Haymitch Abernathy X Reader - Blog Posts

Capitol Punishment Masterlist

Haymitch Abernathy x Reader ~ Completed (before SotR)

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships. 

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol. 

Warnings: Canon level violence, , inconsistent with SotR lore, rape (though not explicit at first), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, pregnancy, miscarriage

The 67th Hunger Games

Prologue | Prologue (II)

The Hunger Games: 

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Catching Fire:

Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X

Mockingjay:

Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV

O sweet november,

your winds gale, akin to the melancholy you carry.

a distinct smell of cedar-wood and fir fights to mask the notes of vomit and white liquor wafting through the home of the ash black haired man who rests disheveled on the couch, bottle tightly clutched in hand.

it’s more charcoal under this light, you think as you take your coat off and notice how the dim lighting darkens his hair a shade or two. you hang your coat and make your way to the fireplace, long accustomed to the gag inducing stench of the place. you've also grown accustomed, no, fond of haymitch abernathy. ever since you lost an impromptu bet to him at the hob upon meeting which declared you personal housecleaner for a week, he decided he liked the few times his home did not look like a rat feast. and so, he started paying you for it, and you began to visit more often.

this was a personal record, though. you came by the victor's village just two days ago to continue this routine, yet the smell you so diligently scrubbed and disinfected layers of had returned. haymitch wouldn't notice the difference in odour, though. the alcohol he associates with cleanliness smells the same as the alcohol he seeks to dirty himself.

throwing two more logs into the dying fire, you turn to the noiret. if there's one thing you've learned through your visits, it is that haymitch looks more peaceful awake. maybe peaceful is not the word. relaxed. there is a certain scowl that pulls on his features when he's asleep, as if he's living an entirely different life in his dreams. haunting, torturous dreams. his breathing is deep, his snores heavy.

you mindlessly retrieve the bottle he's got a vice grip on to set on the table, but the loss of it jolts haymitch awake, bringing his other hand concealed under the pillow out, slashing the air with a kitchen knife. this has you jumping back with a scream, falling to the floor. luckily, the knife did not claim you.

"fuck!" you breathe out between pants. "what the fuck was that?!"

haymitch is also panting, his grey eyes wide. a tinge of a desperation you can't place behind them. appearing dangerous for the first time in a while. upon registering your face, the knife drops to his side, and his features slightly soften, but the feeling this has instilled in him, or rather the memories evoked, are still there. you can tell by the inhuman dilation of his pupils, his hands shaking.

"shit, are you... are you okay?" he asks, caught between reaching out for you or letting you gather yourself. letting you piece together what he is. letting you finally understand why this big estate houses only him.

"who the hell sleeps with a knife under their pillow? that was so fucking close, haymitch! and why does your house stink already, i just cleaned it two days ago!" you know you shouldn't be yelling at him like this, piling it all on, but your heart is still trying to re-enter your chest. the adrenaline has gotten to both of you. haymitch slumps back on the couch, head in his hands, not able to look at you or the knife. his body is still trembling, and it is clearly not from the cold that november has brought over. as you pick yourself up, you hear haymitch's voice, hoarse, small,

"two days... for two days." he says. his mouth is partially covered by his palms, so the words come out muffled.

"what?"

"you didn't come for two days." haymitch repeats, putting his hands down to look up at you with an expression that throws all of your anger out the window. pure woe. his curly hair looked utterly frazzled, gaze begging to look away in shame but needing to drink you up. oh, how that is the only thing he knows to do. you weren't sure if the glossy reflection threatened tears, or was simply an adverse affect of his nighttime drinking routine, and you did not want to know. both answers you could not bear. both answers highlighted the deprivation that follows haymitch like a shadow.

you didn't dare touch the knife. instead, you again try to set the bottle on the table, most of its contents now spilled. raw and distilled. something else you'll have to clean up. "i've got other jobs, you know. can't just live off of this." you finally look back at him. a little playful at first, then solemn. "that made you drink more?"

"no, just... i got used to having you around. my voice doesn't echo in the room as much when you're here." the noiret smooths his hair out. rubs his eyes. fixes his sleeves. anything to look collected. he wordlessly slides the knife back under the pillow when you go to bring a mop, and pretends to fluff it when you come back.

"i'll always be around, haymitch. you need to take care of yourself more though, okay? i still worry for you like all-fire." this stiffens every limb, joint, and muscle in haymitch's control as though a blizzard has teared down the roof. his hands clench into fists before flexing instinctively to reach for the bottle once again, the tremor in them not abandoned. has not been abandoned in a long time. you finish cleaning up the spill and turn on your heel to put the mop back, and haymitch's last-second decision is to instead grab your wrist. his latest liquor of choice.

"no. stay." he pleads. two words. so much said. the pauses, the breathing, the tone. his voice hitches at the end, and his entire body is leaning forward, engulfed by yearning, but kept at a distance as to not cross any invisible lines he has drawn between you. lines that his hand has already overstepped.

“i’ve got the rest of the house to clean, i can’t—“

“the mess will still be here tomorrow. please.”

how can a boy so familiar with poison and punishment allow history to repeat itself? allow this feeling to overtake him again, and subjecting you to it? because he is a selfish rascal. haymitch knew that. it has been so long since he reached his hands out for something other than a drink or a knife. so roughly he has wrestled to keep this submerged within, barely floating; the warmth that radiates off another human being, and not just the fireplace in his house that on most days, he could not even look at.

haymitch doesn't say another word, but his grip does not falter. he awaits. and awaits and awaits. seemingly all he does. all he is good at. all he can do. people have so hastily come in and out of his life, he no longer can fathom object permanence. if he is not touching you, you will leave. disappear. another mourning dove cooing in his night terrors.

you perch the mop's stick against the table and settle next to haymitch. "of course. always." you whisper. and you sound so sure of this declaration that his head dizzies and his chest tightens with an ache that will never part from him.

haymitch drops his head to your shoulder. maybe from exhaustion, maybe from grief. you don't know. you don't ask. he will come around. and maybe sometime in the future, he can find a way to commemorate this grief and pass it. a safer future. a future where he no longer feels the need to sleep with a knife under his pillow.

The Pink Rose - Part 8

Part Eight- July 15th, 74 ADD

Masterlist

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 3,019

Warnings: televised death, hetero relationship, cuddles, dirty talk, piv sex, trauma response, panic attack, memory of assault

Katniss and Peeta had been in the arena for four days now. That they had made it four days astounded many and made it that much easier for Haymitch and [Y/n] to drive any doubt the sponsors had away. The only problem left was that Peeta and Katniss didn’t stick together. [Y/n] couldn’t understand it. First Peeta had declared his feelings for Katniss on a Panem-wide broadcast and then he joined the very group of careers who wanted to kill Katniss.

“There’s only one winner,” Haymitch had said to her on more than one occasion. It still didn’t make sense.

[Y/n] and Haymitch had a scheduled lunch soiree with several of their current and potential sponsors. Due to this, Effie allowed them to skip a public breakfast and just keep up with the Games from the comfort of the District 12 penthouse. [Y/n] was grateful for this brief break from schmoozing with the very people she despised- the Capitol Elite. 

Her body was so used to waking up early, she physically could not stay asleep no matter how much she wanted to. She put on a robe and slippers over her small nightgown. At the end of the hall, she stopped when she heard the voice of Caesar Flickerman giving an update on the previous days highlights. She then noticed Haymitch’s salt and pepper curls sticking out above the couch. She walked over and plopped down next to him before cuddling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Mornin’ Sweetheart,” he said before kissing the top of her head. His gaze never left the screen. 

Noticing his seriousness, [Y/n] sat up and followed his eyes, “Did something happen?”

“Not yet. Peeta and the Careers are camped out under the tree Katniss climbed. Peeta convinced them to ‘wait it out’ instead of them tryin’ to shoot her,”

“Shoot her?”

“Yeah, that District 1 girl has the bow and arrow,”

Oh. The weapon that would’ve benefitted Katniss was a tree height away and she couldn’t get it. The camera suddenly cut from the Careers to a little girl who had climbed up a tree adjacent to where Katniss was beginning to stir. The young girl- Rue- was only 12 years old and from District 11. The odds were completely out of her favor. [Y/n] wondered whose idea it was for Rue to get close to Katniss. Rue was the same age as Primrose and that was bound to be a weakness for Katniss. [Y/n]’s mind began to wander until she heard Caesar say “tracker jackers”. [Y/n] and Haymitch now watched intently as Katniss evaluated the hive of lethal, genetically engineered wasps. If Katniss were stung, she would experience intense hallucinations; or if stung enough she would not survive the encounter.

“What the hell is she doing?” Haymitch said with an elevated voice and slight tone of concern.

“Oh hell… is she- she’s gonna drop it on them!” [Y/n] didn’t know why she panicked, but she knew Haymitch saw this as a stupid risk where Katniss could be stung too.

Sure enough, as Katniss used her knife to saw the tree limb, the tracker jackers became aware of her and emerged from the hive. One found her leg first, another her neck, a few more her hands. Finally, the limb dropped and crashed to the ground in the middle of the camp where Peeta and the Careers slept. Katniss already looked out of sorts and the group below screamed in terror at the tracker jacker attack. They completely abandoned their site, forgetting their belongings and forgetting Katniss to run for the water. The camera tried to get a glimpse of everyone before a cannon sounded- and then a second one. The female tribute from District 4 had been stung too many times. The second cannon was the female from District 1- the girl with the bow and arrows. [Y/n] and Haymitch were stunned to silence. In a few short minutes, Katniss indirectly caused the death of two other tributes and managed to evade the others trying to kill her.

“Well… not what I expected to see before breakfast,” [Y/n] said quietly.

Haymitch put his arm around her shoulders and said, “It’s not over; let’s see what else she does,”

Katniss stumbled down the tree, almost falling about halfway down. Her torn pants displayed the large purple welt on on her knee that had started to ooze a green tinted pus. The District 1 girl was swollen beyond recognition from head to toe by the time Katniss got to her. Using all the strength she could muster, Katniss ripped the bow and arrows off the girl’s lifeless body. Katniss’ face contorted into something of fear- she was undoubtedly hallucinating.

“Poor kid; I don’t envy whatever she’s seeing,” Haymitch mused sadly. 

Suddenly, a noise came from the nearby brush and out jumped Peeta with a spear. 

“Shit,” [Y/n] said with a flat tone.

“Katniss! What are you still doing here?” Peeta hissed at her- he began to prod her with the handle of the spear, “Are you crazy? Get up! Get up!” he began to yell at her, “Run! Run!”

Katniss was absolutely hallucinating. Peeta finally got her up and shoved her forward to get her moving. He was trying to save her from the returning Careers.

Haymitch threw his hands in the air as he and [Y/n] watched Peeta shove Katniss away into the brush. Katniss stumbled into the plants and down the nearby slope before passing out. Her body was still except for the rise and fall of her chest. After a moment of stunned silence that no doubt resonated across Panem, Rue entered the screen. She tiptoed to Katniss’ body as she looked around for anyone else. 

Rue used all of the strength her body could muster and dragged Katniss into a hidden area, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,”

*  *  *  *  *

“So, how do you feel about Miss Everdeen’s newest ally?” Plutarch asked as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“Well, she’s an interesting choice that’s for sure,” Haymitch said before plucking a finger sandwich into his mouth. 

“I think what Haymitch means to say is that we never discussed the possibility of Rue or Thresh as allies because we were busy prepping them to go into the arena,” [Y/n] interjected.

Plutarch chuckled, “Districts 11 and 12 have historically been allies given how poorly they’re treated. Even after Rue made the salve for Katniss’ stings and Katniss shared her burn medicine, one would imagine they’d had some sort of conversation,”

“What’s your point?” Haymitch asked with suspicion. 

“Why do you think dialogue between Katniss and Rue was never aired?” Plutarch challenged. 

[Y/n] studied her nail as she thought about it, “They were talking about home, they were discussing their struggles,” she said without looking up.

“Precisely,” Plutarch nodded, “Now, we know better than most what goes on in other districts and I know what the tributes discuss when they take a moment to sit down,”

[Y/n] and Haymitch nodded as they tried to recall conversations they’d had with other tributes in the arena.

“So again, what’s your point?” Haymitch asked, voice laced with suspicion.

Plutarch chuckled, “Mr. Abernathy, Ms. Bellwood, how much have you heard about the resistance going against the Capitol?”

“Only that it exists- I might know a few, but not what they’re up to,” Haymitch said.

[Y/n] took a deep breath, “They operate quietly out of… well…”

Plutarch and Haymitch looked at [Y/n] while she contemplated what to say next. Had she said too much? She let this information slip and she didn’t even know if she could trust Plutarch. He was a Gamemaker- how could he be considered trustworthy at all? When it seemed as if [Y/n] wouldn’t say anything more, Haymitch placed his hand on her knee to comfort her. 

“I understand your hesitance Ms. Bellwood; you’ve been burdened with knowledge that shouldn’t have been shared with you,” Plutarch said, “But you’re not wrong, the resistance is alive. And it’s looking to build. It’s currently in adolescence, but it needs to grow up- and fast,”

Haymitch’s hand gripped [Y/n]’s knee harder; concern had him on edge and it radiated out of his hand “What happened to make you approach us?” he asked with suspicion.

“The Girl on Fire has sparked some controversy in the outlying districts. Her strength resounds and the sparks just need some oxygen to turn into flames,” 

[Y/n] sighed and chuckled softly, “You’ve really taken a shine to the fire angle,”

Plutarch smiled, “You wouldn’t be the only Victors involved; or people involved in the Games directly,” he pulled a small copper plate from his pocket, “Don’t lose this,”

He squeezed each side of the plate and a small camera opened on one side; he started the camera and looked into it saying, “The Capitol is a dictatorial plague and I am for the resistance,”

Plutarch squeezed the sides again and handed it to Haymitch, “Press the button on the back,”

Haymitch did as he was told and a small image of Plutarch projected from the camera and played back what he had said to it. 

“I hope that convinces you enough- I’m giving you this in good faith and wholeheartedly ask that you don’t lose it,” he smiled grimly.

[Y/n] placed a hand on the table and looked at him, “I appreciate you coming to us for this; we’ll discuss and get back to you tomorrow?”

Plutarch nodded in agreement, “Thank you for joining me, and don’t worry, President Snow doesn’t have cameras in here. One of the perks of being me,” as he walked about, he stopped at the door and half turned towards them, “Ms. Trinket was right- you two are a handsome couple,” he left them in stunned silence.

“Handsome. Couple. Effie said that?” Haymitch asked aloud.

[Y/n] kissed his scruffy cheek, “You know she’s an emotional romantic,”

Back at the penthouse, the District 12 crew watch the end of day summary for the Games. Haymitch and Cinna marveled over Katniss’ use of the tracker jackers, while Effie and Portia pondered Peeta’s decision to join the careers and what that would do for his image. [Y/n] picked at her food and pondered the conversation she’d had with Haymitch and Plutarch. Was she supposed to tell Haymitch how much she already knew? Should she introduce him to her contacts. Why didn’t she already know about Plutarch’s involvement?

Standing up, she drew the attention of the table, “I’m going to bed, I have an early start tomorrow,”

The group wished her goodnight; everyone but Haymitch who sensed she wasn’t being completely honest. Once the dinner ended, he made his way [Y/n]’s door and knocked softly.

“Come in,”

“I thought you had to wake early tomorrow?” he smiled

“Well why did you come to my room then?” [Y/n] snapped playfully.

Haymitch walked up and wrapped his arms around her midsection. [Y/n] smiled softly at the goosebumps that rose at the touch of his warm skin. She watched the content look on his face in the mirror as she gazed into the glass.

“Who was winning the staring match before I interrupted?”

[Y/n] scoffed with a smile, “Probably my reflection,”

Her cheeks flushed as she studied Haymitch’s strong arms around her. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked at the sight of her smile

“Oh nothing,” she sighed before slowly pressing her rear backwards and moving it side to side.

A quiet groan came from his throat, “Tell me,” he whispered, “What do you want?”

“I want you to make me feel like you did the morning of Reaping Day,”

“You mean the part before Effie interrupted us?”

“Yes- but don’t be so gentle,”

“Oh?” he said with a small grin. Haymitch put one hand on [Y/n]’s waist turned her around and pushed her against the wall, “Define: not gentle,” He ducked his head down, leaving trails of warm kisses up and down her neck.

[Y/n] bit her lip before letting out a soft sigh, “I want- mmmm,” Haymitch began kneading her chest, “Haymitch- I want you to fuck me, like you’ll never see me again,”

He moved his hands up and placed one on each side of her face, bringing her to him. This kiss was different than others; it was filled with want and need. Appreciation mixed with desire and intention spread about them. He parted their lips by mere millimeters and whispered into her mouth, “Let me know if I cross a line Sweetheart, it’s about you this time,”

[Y/n] melted as her smile kissed him again. Their lips and tongues danced together as she pulled Haymitch closer. He moaned into her mouth and trailed his hands down her body, leaving a line of heat. He lifted the skirt of her dress until it was bunched up at her hips. [Y/n] moaned into his mouth as he used his fingers to run warm circles between her legs. She could feel how wet her lace underwear was.

“Haymitch, I need your cock inside me,” her hips ground into his fingers before she jerked away to remove her underwear. As soon as she did, Haymitch had already removed his pants and briefs. He grabbed [Y/n]’s rear and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He used the wall and one hand to hold her up and the other to aim his tip towards her entrance. 

He looked into her eyes, “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready,” she smiled mischeiviously. 

He slowly lowered her down until he was fully sheathed inside her. They softly moaned simultaneously. He put his other hand back to her rear and carried her across the room. He laid her down on the bed, carefully so not to remove himself completely. Once they were both lowered, he moved his hips back and forth; starting slow but gradually building speed and force. 

“Goddammit Sweetheart,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh my days!” her back arched up and Haymitch’s name softly emerged from her lips.

Both of them mildly concentrating on not being too loud, a symphony of quiet moans, sighs, and ‘I love you’s’ passed between them as their bodies entwined. Haymitch could feel [Y/n] tightening around him and took that as a sign to keep up what he was doing. He felt himself reach the edge of his ability to contain himself. Trying to keep himself together for her, Haymitch placed one hand on her shoulder and stroked the front of her neck with his thumb, “I needed this,” he groaned softly.

Those three words. [Y/n] felt the blood drain from her face and a knot formed in her throat. She gasped and shoved Haymitch off her before nearly jumping from the bed. Haymitch stayed frozen on the bed, utterly confused at what had just happened. Heart dropping to his stomach, he reached towards her- hovering inches from her back, he recognized the reaction. It was too similar to what happened when she awoke from nightmares of the Games. The Games he understood, but this was different. This was something else completely. [Y/n]’s hair parted over her shoulders with the movement of her sobs. Haymitch suddenly noticed a raised edge at her hairline. He couldn’t figure out how he’d never noticed it, but suspected alcohol had a hand in that. Looking closer, he realized that the raised edge was a healed scar shaped like the letter P.

[Y/n] sat on the floor and continued sobbing quietly. Haymitch held out the blanket and she quickly wrapped herself in it. Haymitch put his briefs back on and sat cross-legged and at arms length. He placed his hands on the floor palms up and watched her with a pained expression on his face. He breathed deeply through his nose and out his mouth, creating an audible rhythm for [Y/n] to hear.

[Y/n] kept hearing the phrase in her head over and over again. I needed this. I needed this. I needed this. She replayed the memory of a pair of hands stroking her neck and pinning her down. Shaking and unable to breathe, she tried to focus on Haymitch’s breaths. Her heart pounded in her ears and it took all the strength she had left to change her breathing pattern in an attempt to match Haymitch. Barely moving her gaze, she saw his hands between them. She reached her trembling hands out and gently placed them on his. Haymitch didn’t move, but continued to watch her with worry building inside him.

They sat for several minutes, hands touching and bodies moving only with each inhale and exhale. With her brain almost clear enough to put a simple thought together, she closed her hands around Haymitch’s fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sweetheart… [Y/n]... I don’t know what you’re sorry for,” he cleared his throat softly, “But I have a feeling it’s not a bit your fault,”

[Y/n] crawled forward and curled up in his lap. She leaned into his chest and he felt her tears slowly drip down his body, “Can I hold you?”

“Yes,” whispered softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

She nodded her head ‘no’.

“Do you need to talk about it?”

“Not now,”

“I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m here for you,” Haymitch slowly rocked their bodies back and forth. He kept his body still, soft, and calm. As a Hunger Games Victor, he recognized a response to trauma like a star recognized the sky. He and [Y/n] had taken turns calming each other after nightmares for years. Liquor kept him calm and warm now and for years before her. But this was different. This wasn’t a flashback to the same singular death-defying moment. This was… something repetitive.

He lifted his chin so she wouldn’t feel his jaw clench as rage flashed across his face: Who hurt her?

Masterlist

The Pink Rose, part 7

Part Seven- July 11th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 954

Warnings: reference to danger, anxious/fear/PTSD response, implied history of abuse/assault

Here's a little filler action to move the story along. ✨#Backstory✨

The day had come. The 74th Annual Hunger Games. Katniss and Peeta attempted to mentally prepare themselves to go to the arena. After Effie said her goodbyes, [Y/n]- flanked by Haymitch- approached them. [Y/n] smiled in an almost motherly way and Haymitch crossed his arms and looked them over.

“Any final words of advice?” Peeta asked.

[Y/n]’s face turned serious, “When the gong sounds, get away from everyone- don’t stick around and risk getting caught in that mess. The Cornucopia will be a bloodbath and you’ll need to find water and somewhere to situate yourself”.

“And after that?” asked Katniss.

“Stay alive,” Haymitch said. Everyone knew he was serious this time- there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or humor in his voice.

After leaving their tributes to the airstrip entrance, [Y/n] and Haymitch made their way to public viewing area to watch the start of the Games. As soon as Haymitch was pulled away by a group of potential sponsors, [Y/n] felt a breath in her ear, “Are the odds in your favor?”

Startled, [Y/n] whipped around to see the familiar citrus orange face of Porcius Perfidius. His pompous grin looked down at her, “Hello sweet girl,” he sneered. [Y/n] felt her wall of confidence begin to melt as her palms grew sweaty and her heart began to race. Porcius was more than twice [Y/n]’s age, pear shaped, and weighed somewhere in the realm of two baby elephants. He wouldn’t stand a chance in the arena, but [Y/n] historically shut down whenever she came face to face with him. His pale skin had the slightest tint of orange, but his hair, eyelashes, and goatee were bright coral. Before she could respond, a green, stick-shaped version of Porcius appeared. His partner in crime: Janus Caesonius.

“Come now, Porcius. [Y/n] is a woman, we know that for a fact,” he whispered with crude amusement, “What do you think of your tributes this year? Will we get a woman on fire when this is all done?”

[Y/n] felt her cheeks burn. These men fueled a quiet rage that she didn’t know how to act on. She had to think of something to say to sate or deter these men. They’d been demeaning and harassing her for 13 years and she kept letting them. Her heart skipped a beat when she decided not to please them this time.  

“Don’t you think you’re a little old to keep up with the tributes now? Your stamina can’t possibly be the same,” [Y/n] questioned Porcius with her sweetest smile.

The men looked at her in shock- Porcius glowered at her and hissed through his teeth, “Look here you little bitch, you know exactly how hard I can make life for you and for your tributes. Don’t think the whole Capitol loving you is going to protect 12,”

“Oh I am counting on that, you can’t possibly make things any worse for me,” she shot back.

Janus grabbed her upper arm tightly, “Well if you think-”

“Janus,” a calm voice called from nearby, “It doesn’t look like you asked Ms. Bellwood if you could touch her,”

Plutarch Heavensbee.

“Stay out of this Plutarch!” Porcius sneered

Plutarch looked at him with the demeaning smile he was so good at giving others, “Well, we’re in a very public place right now and it’d be a true shame if a friend of Mrs. Caesonius or Mrs. Perfidius saw you so close and touching another woman. We know how rumors are like wildfire. And it appears District 12 has enough fire to go around right now,”

Janus let go of [Y/n]’s arm; but not before whispering in her ear, “We’ll finish this later,” He directed Porcius to follow, leaving [Y/n] rubbing her arm and standing alone with Plutarch.

With an embarrassed smile, [Y/n] thanked Plutach for intervening. 

“Your boyfriend was gone for mere seconds before the vultures made their descent,” he held out his arm, “Take a turn about the square with me?”

She suspiciously took his arm and followed his lead, “You’re not in my inner circle, you’ve never paid for the pleasure of my company, and I can’t say we’ve had more than a ‘good morning’ or ‘nice to meet you’. So what makes you think I have a boyfriend?”

Plutarch smiled as he looked ahead, “Ms. Bellwood, before you learn the hard way, I’ll let you in on a secret: I know almost everything- I’m in the business of knowing other people’s business. And fortunately for you, I’m quite observant, unlike most of the Capitol.,”

“And you’re quite humble. So who’ve you been talking to?”

“No one,” he could see the confused and frustrated expression on [Y/n]’s face, “It’s about to be confirmed a second time, but you might teach Haymitch to not drool when he looks at you. The Capitol may be full of self-indulgent imbeciles, but I’m not one of them,”

[Y/n] opened her mouth to respond when she heard Haymitch’s voice, “Heavensbee, are you picking a District to sponsor?”

“Not this year. I was simply picking Ms. Bellwood’s brain about the confidence we might hold in your tributes this year. You are noticbly more invested in them,”

“Well, sometimes you get dealt a hand you can work with,” Haymitch gave a half smile. 

Before Plutarch could respond, the countdown started. Ten… nine… eight- the tributes readied themselves- seven… six… five- the camera hopped from panicked to confident tributes- four… three… two… one.

Peeta jumped and ran for the woods.

Katniss hesitated and ran straight into the cornucopia- to the bloodbath.

In a quiet, breathless voice, [Y/n] whispered, “Fuck…”

Masterlist

The Pink Rose, part 6

Part Six- July 8th/9th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,780

Warnings: pet names, arguing, cursing, yelling

July 8th, 74 ADD

Haymitch invited [Y/n] to sit in on Katniss’ interview prep. After lunch, the three of them situated themselves in a triangle in the sitting room. Katniss sat down and hunched over to rest her elbows on her knees. Haymitch stayed standing and [Y/n] gracefully sat down, crossing her ankles. 

“What?” Katniss asked after an uncomfortable brief stare-down from Haymitch.

“I’m trying to figure out what to do with you,” he said, “How’re we gonna present you. Are you gonna be charming? Aloof? Fierce? So far, you’re shinin’. You volunteered to save your sister. Cinna made you look unforgettable. You’ve got the top training score. People are intrigued, but no one knows who you are,” 

“The impression you make tomorrow will decide exactly what we can secure for you in terms of sponsors,” [Y/n] added.

“What’s Peeta’s approach? Or am I not allowed to ask?” Katniss said stubbornly

“Likable. He has a sort of natural self-deprecating humor,” says Haymitch. “Whereas when you open your mouth, you come across more… hostile.”

“I do not!” Katniss almost yelled as her back straightened.

“Please. I don’t know where you pulled that cheery, wavy girl on the chariot from, but I haven’t seen her before or since,” nagged Haymitch.

“And you’ve given me so many reasons to be cheery,” she sneered back.

“Alright, knock it off you two!” [Y/n] demanded, “Katniss, you had to grow up fast and it shows- you’re an oldest child from the Seam. You know the struggle. You have your sister and… Gale? You probably feel comfortable in front of them, but being the center of attention is clearly a place you are not used to,”

Katniss nodded in understanding, “You seem to be pretty comfortable there,”

[Y/n] laughed, “I wasn’t always like that, and being used to it is not the same as being comfortable. Nowadays, I attract less attention if I dress pretty. If I were to show up for interviews wearing my normal 12 style, I think the Capital would riot. Such is the curse of being a beloved victor,”

“Exactly being a disliked victor is better,” Haymitch said proudly, “Besides, you don’t have to please us. we’re not going to sponsor you. So pretend we’re the audience,” he plopped into a chair. “Delight me.”

Haymitch conducted a mock interview with Katniss while [Y/n] took notes. Katniss tried to answer his questions in a likable way, but she was too angry with the whole thing. The longer the interview went on, the more her frustration began to show.

“All right, enough,” Haymitch said, “We’ve got to find another angle. Not only are you hostile, I don’t know anything about you. I’ve asked you fifty questions and still have no sense of your life, your family, what you care about. They want to know about you, Katniss.”

“But I don’t want them to! They’re already taking my future! They can’t have the things that mattered to me in the past!” she complained.

“Then lie! Make something up!” Haymitch almost yelled back.

“I’m not good at lying,” Katniss said.

[Y/n] spoke up, “You should work on that Kat-” 

“Because you’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug,” Haymitch interrupted. Realizing that might’ve been harsh, his voice softened, “Here’s an idea. Try acting humble.”

“Humble,” Katniss said quietly.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” [Y/n] mused, “Yes, you can’t believe a little girl from District Twelve has done this well. The whole thing’s been more than you ever could have dreamed of. Talk about Cinna’s clothes, how nice the people are, how dazzling the Capital is. If you won’t talk about yourself, at least compliment the audience. Gush- these people love themselves and what they have- use it- make them look like fools.”

Even this didn’t work for Katniss. The next couple of hours proved that she couldn’t gush, be cocky or arrogant, funny, sexy (that pained [Y/n] to even try), or mysterious. Somewhere between arrogant and funny, Haymitch started drinking. [Y/n] tried to slow him down, but he wouldn’t listen “I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you hate them.”

“He’s right Katniss-” [Y/n]

“Of course I’m right!” Haymitch shot before reeling back in at [Y/n]’s quick death glare.

She turned back to Katniss, “I was you once- but I made them like and they gave me things that kept me alive in that arena. Medicine. A bottle of fresh water. A blanket. We don’t know what your arena is, but securing sponsors is the most prepared you can be,”

Katniss sighed and nodded in understanding.

July 9, 74 ADD

Cinna, Portia, and Effie joined Haymitch and [Y/n] backstage after making up Katniss and Peeta. Peeta wore a striking black suit with flame accents to keep the theme going. Katniss wore an impressive gown designed by Cinna. The whole thing was covered in fire like jewels that looked like flames when she moved. The girl on fire. The gold accents painted on her skin shined and looked beautifully tasteful in contrast to her gown. Haymitch, [Y/n], and Effie were all dressed up for the occasion. Effie’s lavender dress matched her tall floral high heels and towering curly wig of almost the same hue of purple. Haymitch’s suit was clearly new and he wore a lapel pin that resembled a flame. [Y/n] wore a black jeweled dress that hugged her curves and, to Katniss, looked difficult to breathe in. [Y/n] was the coal supporting Katniss and Peeta’s flames. Effie and Cinna had made it very clear that this was a time for impressions. 

Just before the tributes were paraded onto the stage, Haymitch and [Y/n] walked up behind Peeta and Katniss. Haymitch almost growled as he said, “Remember, you’re still a happy set of kids from District Twelve. So act like it.”

Katniss turned around and opened her mouth to say something, but all she saw was Haymitch and [Y/n] walking away interestingly close together. She furrowed her brow in confusion as Haymitch guided [Y/n] by placing his hand gently on her lower back just above her rear. Katniss couldn’t hear what he whispered to make [Y/n]... giggle?

[Y/n] and Haymitch joined the rest of “Team Twelve” (as Effie coined them) in the backstage waiting area to watch the televised version of the interviews. Peeta looked amazing and Katniss did better than expected- but [Y/n] could still tell she was uncomfortable.

Every citizen of Panem is tuned in to watch their tribute. Caesar Flickerman, the interview host of more than forty years, bounced on stage in an Effie-like fashion. He didn’t appear to have aged in the last four decades. Same full face of makeup. Same hair in a tall bouffant that he dyed a different color every Hunger Games. At least in [Y/n]’s lifetime, he’d always worn the same ceremonial suit of midnight blue. Impressively, it was dotted with a thousand tiny lightbulbs that twinkled like stars. This time, Caesar’s hair was powder blue and his eyelids and lips were coated to match.

Caesar told a few jokes and once he had everyone’s attention, introduced the female tribute from District 1: a provocative looking girl in a see-through gold gown.

“I will never understand the sexualization of teenagers,” [Y/n] whispered to Effie.

“Oh it’s just the fashion,” Effie dismissed.

Every 3 minutes, a buzzer sounded marking the end of the interview and time to move on. Haymitch told [Y/n] to wake him at District 10 and rested his head back. [Y/n] smacked his chest lightly and told him to be an adult. She proceeded to keep Effie at ease by commenting on Katniss’ sitting posture or the effort being made to not look like she’d stepped on something smelly. Tribute after tribute they watched each interview intently and [Y/n] took notes as if she were trying to decipher each one like a puzzle.Some tributes were interesting, a few may have prompted a yawn or two. Twenty-two tributes later:

“Help me say welcome to the lovely Katniss Everdeen: the Girl on Fire!” Caesar shouted.

Katniss walked onto the stage and shook Caesar’s outstretched hand. [Y/n] and Effie gave each other small smiles as Katniss successfully walked out in heels and a gown without tripping.

“So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What’s impressed you most since you arrived here?” Caesar asked with an ear to ear grin.

Haymitch clicked his tongue after Katniss had a delayed response of “The lamb stew,”

Caesar laughed, “The one with the dried plums?” Katniss nodded as the crowd joined Caesar’s enthusiasm, “Oh, I eat it by the bucketful.” He laughed as he held his stomach.

“Now, Katniss,” he said, “When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped,” he turned to the crowd, “Did any of you experience this as well? My heart stopped- What did you think of that costume?”

Much to Team Twelve’s surprise, Katniss smiled, “You mean after I realized I wouldn’t burn to death?”

Caesar and the audience were in stitches, “Yes. Start then,” says Caesar. Katniss was exceeding expectations.

“I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen and I couldn’t believe I was wearing it. I can’t believe I’m wearing this, either- I mean, look at it!”

The crowd oohs and aahs as Katniss shows off the skirt of her gown. [Y/n] realized how much coaching of his own Cinna had done when Katniss spun in a circle.

“Oh, do that again!” Caesar demanded. 

Katniss lifted her arms and spun harder allowing her skirt to fly outwards, covering her in the same flames from the ceremony. The audience broke into cheers, applause, and enthusiastic screams. When she stopped spinning, Caesar gave her his arm to steady herself and begged her not to stop.

“I have to, I’m dizzy!” she giggled, matching his energy. 

“So she is a teenage girl,” Haymitch whispered to [Y/n].

Katniss struggled to take a step from the dizziness so Caesar wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Can’t have you following in the footsteps of the wrong mentor.”

The crowd was in an uproar of laughter as the cameras found Haymitch and [Y/n]: one now famous for his drunken stage dive at the reaping, and the other famous for being a deadly beauty. Haymitch and [Y/n] waved the cameras away good-naturedly and [Y/n] pointed back to Katniss.

Caesar laughs and brings the crowd back in as he and Katniss returned to their seats, “So, how about that training score. Eleven. Whatever happened there?”

The cameras find the Gamemakers and Katniss says, “Um ... all I can say is I think it was a first.” The Gamemakers are laughing and nodding in agreement.

“You’re killing us- details! Details!,” says Caesar.

Katniss looks to the Gamemakers, “I’m not supposed to talk about it, right?” One of them shouts down that she can’t say anything so Katniss looks at the crowd, “Sorry. My lips are sealed.”

Caesar moped then grew uncharacteristically quiet and serious, “Let’s go back then, to the moment they called your sister’s name at the reaping and you volunteered. Can you tell us

about her?”

Katniss gave a small exhale. “Her name’s Prim. She’s just twelve and I love her more than

Anything.” The crowd was silent with emotion.

“What did she say to you? After the reaping?” Caesar asked.

“She asked me to try really hard to win.” 

“And what did you say?” 

“I said I would try. I would try and win for her,”

“And try you shall,” Caesar said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as the buzzer sounded, “Sorry we’re out of time, folks. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve.”

The crowd doesn’t stop clapping and cheering until Katniss is seated backstage. They pause for a moment until Peeta is introduced.

[Y/n] followed Katniss, “I am so proud of you- that is how you get sponsors!’ she said as the crowd laughs at something Peeta said. They missed Caesars question, but heard Peeta ask if he smelt like roses. The crowd cannot contain themselves as Peeta and Caesar sniff each other.

“Seems we won’t have trouble getting things for either of you,” [Y/n] smiles.

Caesar’s voice comes through the backstage TV, “So Peeta, tell me, is there a special girl back home?” Peeta shakes his head side-to-side as he denies having anyone, “Handsome lad like you? There must be a special girl. Come on, tell us?” Caesar sounds like he’ll die if Peeta doesn’t start talking about someone.

Peeta sighed, “Well, there is this one girl I’ve had a crush on forever,” Caesar got a knowing grin on his face, “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t recognize me until the reaping.”

[Y/n] mused as the crowd collectively expressed sympathy, “Ah, he’s taken a sympathetic angle,”

“She have another fellow?” Caesar asked sadly.

“I don’t think so, but a lot of boys like her,” Peeta said.

“Well, you go out there, and you win this thing, and she’ll have to go out with you!” Caesar said encouragingly.

Just loud enough for everyone to hear, Peeta said, “No, I don’t think winning will help too much,”

“Oh? Why not?”

Peeta’s cheeks lit up to match the flames on Katniss’ dress. Everyone- [Y/n] and Katniss included- leaned forward in anticipation of his answer, “Because… because... she came here with me.”

The cameras lingered on Peeta’s heartbroken expression. Suddenly, they are fixed on Katniss and [Y/n], mouths open in shock. Katniss closed her mouth and looked down so the cameras couldn’t see her expression and [Y/n] wrapped an arm around Katniss, trying to appear sympathetic.

“Oh, well that’s bad luck,” Caesar’s expression was full of genuine pain and mirrored on the crowd- half of whom had started crying.

The interview finished as Caesar consoled Peeta and wished him well. The crowd clapped and cheered as the last tribute left the stage. [Y/n] knew Katniss was not blushing from being flattered- the girl was embarrassed. That was [Y/n]’s cue to rush Katniss upstairs. They were back on the twelfth floor for barely a minute before Peeta and Haymitch stepped off another elevator. Before anyone could react, Katniss angrily lunged and slammed her hands onto Peeta’s chest. He stumbled and crashed into the wall. Haymitch shot forward and forced Katniss away from Peeta.

“What the hell was that? You had no right to say that about me!” Katniss yelled.

Haymitch shouted for her to stop as she loudly challenged, “You wanna train alone and now you have a crush on me? Let’s go! Right now!”

Cinna and Effie stepped off the elevator as [Y/n] angrily told Katniss to “knock it off”.

“You’re a fool,” Haymitch said with a disgusted tone, “That boy gave you something

you could never get on your own.”

“He made me look weak!”

“He made you look desirable! And let’s face it, you were about as romantic as the goddamn dirt until he said he wanted you. Now everyone wants you. The talk of the Capital: the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!”

“We are NOT star-crossed lovers!” she shouted.

[Y/n] felt the room get more heated, “Katniss-”

“It’s a television show!” Haymitch interrupted angrily.

“Haymitch, shut up!” [Y/n] yelled- the room grew quiet as everyone stilled in shock by the angry sound, “You!” she pointed at Katniss, “Be grateful that you have people who care about you and let go of your goddamn ego. You!” she pointed at Peeta, “Don’t say anything else about your feelings for her until you’re in that arena and don’t listen to Haymitch for emotional romantic advice. And YOU!” she stood up straight and faced Haymitch, “Go to your fucking room and sober up! I cannot take this dysfunctional group for the rest of the night!” [Y/n] stormed off to her own room.

Everyone was shocked to silence for a few minutes. Katniss was surprised and had been having a hard time imagining [Y/n] as anything but a glamor woman. Haymitch and Peeta looked at their feet like schoolboys who’d just been told off. 

Effie broke the silence, “Well she didn’t need to curse,”

Haymitch, Cinna, and Peeta groaned at the comment and left the room. Effie announced that she needed to leave and bounced into the elevator, leaving Katniss alone in the entryway. 

Masterlist

The Pink Rose, part 5

Part Five- July 7th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,119

Warnings: heterosexual relationship, light smut, fluff, reference to violence, arguing

It had been three days since [Y/n] and Haymitch had accompanied their tributes to the Capitol. Three days since Haymitch’s bad first impression had potentially revealed what the tributes were capable of. [Y/n] sat staring at her plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. She had a notebook and pen for notes as she listened to Haymitch explain the importance of the training days and knowing what their skills are. 

As in most things, Katniss was conservative about her skills. Peeta emphasized how good of a shot she was with a bow and arrow. Katniss responds by mentioning Peeta could throw hundred pound bags of flour and that he knows how to wrestle. 

“What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?” Peeta said with a grimace.

Katniss shot back with an angry tone, “There’s always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you’ll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I’m dead!” 

“But you won’t! You’ll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn’t mean me, she meant you!” Peeta shouted.

“Oh, she meant you,” Katniss dismissed.

“She said, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’She is,” Peeta said quietly.

The room stood still. [Y/n] felt her heart drop and an instant dislike of Mrs. Mellark. Who in Panem tells their own child they’re going to die after being selected in a reaping. The farewell opportunity is a time to wish for their safety and build them up. That bitch tore him down- she berated her son for someone else’s daughter.

After Peeta and Katniss calm down, Haymitch hesitantly restarts the conversation and insists that they spend their training days learning a new skill and under no circumstances showing the other tributes what they’re capable of- to save that for the Gamemakers.

“One last thing. In public, I want you by each other’s side every minute,” says Haymitch. The two teens start to object before Haymitch makes everyone jump by slamming his hand on the table, “Every minute! It’s not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training.”

The two of them left the room and the sound of Katniss’ bedroom slamming echoed through their quarters.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors in her eyes,” [Y/n] said.

“I’m not here to be her friend, I don’t even want to be a mentor. But since she threw a knife and you’re more invested in what you see, I’m willing to play along,” Haymitch explained., “What are you doing?”

[Y/n] looked at him out the side of her eye and saw he was referring to her notes, “I’m writing what I know. I’m trying to see what I can confidently say or twist for the sponsors. But I need to be careful,”

“Careful? I think you mean ruthless,”

“No. Careful. The deepest pockets always want something in return. I also need to remember who I have dirt on,”

“You sound like Finnick Odair,”

“Not necessarily a bad thing in this scenario. He’s good at getting sponsors and since we’re good friends, it might be entertaining to see who we can snag this year,” [Y/n] smirked.

Haymitch chuckled in unison. The idea of pulling a fast one on some of the other tributes was an entertaining thought. He didn’t realize how fast time had gone until Peeta and Katniss emerged from their rooms, ready to go find Effie.

Once they were truly alone, Haymitch rose from his chair to stand behind [Y/n]’s chair, “You should really loosen up Sweetheart,” Haymitch whispers as he starts to rub [Y/n]’s neck and shoulders. As excitable as having beloved tributes is, it is almost more stressful than having tributes who fly under the radar. [Y/n] gave a quiet moan of pleasure as Haymitch somehow gave an excellent shoulder massage. His strong, rough fingers ran up and down the stiff muscles in her shoulders, attempting to break up the solid tension that had built there. Suddenly, Haymitch’s hands slowly made their way over her shoulders and over the front of her dress. In the same instant, his lips rest just under her jawbone. He began to kiss her neck with enthusiasm; lightly sucking the skin and running the tip of his tongue over the same spot. [Y/n] felt a shiver run through her body. The heat where he kissed her neck resonated through her torso and went down between her legs. The burn increased as his hands cupped her breasts and found their way under the fabric.

Haymitch whispered against her skin, “It’s been a while since we tried this,”

[Y/n] responded with soft chuckle, “It’s been less than three days,”

“Less than three days too long,” he whispered as hands massaged her breasts.

[Y/n] reached around and ran her fingers into his curls. Her back began to arch as Haymitch circled her nipples with his thumb. His lips left her skin and he trailed his nose up until she felt his warm breath on her ear, “I wanna take you on this table,” he growled. [Y/n] melted at the sound of his lowered voice.

“This better not become a regular occurrence!” a familiar voice trilled prompting [Y/n] and Haymitch to immediately separate. Effie quickly walked across the room muttering quietly, “You’d think they own the place!”

[Y/n] stood up and placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest, “She’s right, we really should be more careful,” 

“We still have an hour to be careful,” Haymitch said as he scooped her up.

“Haymitch!” [Y/n] squealed as he quickly headed towards his bedroom.

“At least be quiet!” Effie yelled from the other room.

*     *     *

After six days in the Capitol, six days of [Y/n] schmoozing sponsors, mediating conversations between Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta, and having a few short interviews with Caesar Flickerman, came private session day. The day where Katniss and Peeta show what they can do. The sessions started after lunch, but Katniss and Peeta would go last since they were from District 12. [Y/n] remembered how infuriating that was. If you were from 12, it was likely that the Gamemakers had indulged themselves on food and drink by the time it was your turn. They were either drunk, tired, or passed out after watching over 20 other demonstrations. 

Effie and Haymitch were engaged in a conversation about the sponsors they’d already gained when Cinna and Portia got off the elevator. It was almost dinner time and they’d want to be hearing about how the sessions went. After about 20 minutes, Peeta got off the elevator and walked to his room to change clothes. Roughly 15 minutes later, Katniss burst out of the elevator and nearly sprinted to her room. Effie, Haymitch, and Portia call after her from the sitting room, but she doesn’t stop. Peeta was in the hall when she passed him, “Hey, was she crying?” he asked with concern. [Y/n] and Effie tried to get Katniss to open the door, but she just yelled for them to go away.

Effie tried again at dinner time and this time returned with Katniss. Katniss avoided eye contact with everyone, including Cinna and  [Y/n]. After a few minutes of small talk, the Avoxes bring dinner to the table and Haymitch starts:

“Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?” [Y/n] rolled her eyes and gave him a look of utter disbelief. 

Before Katniss could respond, Peeta said, ““I don’t know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go.”

“Figures,” scoffed [Y/n].

Cinna shook his head in disappointment, “If they’re going to send them all into the same arena, they could at least afford the same attention instead of acting like that,”

“And you, sweetheart?” asked Haymitch.

Katniss’ eyes remained on her empty plate, “I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers,” the room silenced immediately.

“You what?” Effie yelled angrily, face draped in uncharacteristic horror. 

“I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It’s like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just ... I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig’s mouth!” Katniss said with a matter of fact tone of defiance.

“Are you crazy?” Effie almost yelled and saw Haymitch looking at her with a smirk, “I don’t think we’re going to find this funny if-”

“If what?” Haymitch interjected, “If they decide to punish someone?” he gestured to Katniss and Peeta with one hand and himself and [Y/n] with the other, “I think they already have, loosen your corset, have a drink,”

Cinna turned back to Katniss and carefully asked, “And what did they say?”

“Nothing. Or I don’t know. I walked out after that,” she responded

“Without being dismissed?” [Y/n] probed

“I dismissed myself,”

“Are you crazy?!” Effie trilled.

Haymitch ripped off a hunk of meat from his pork chop and leaned over to take a bite before stopping and chuckling,”What were their faces like?”

[Y/n] could see the twitch of a smile on the edges of Katniss’ mouth, “Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch.”

Everyone but Effie burst into a fit laughter. Haymitch even looked as if he were going to cry. [Y/n] had not had a laugh that good in a long while.

Effie looked as if she were trying to avoid smiling, “Well, it serves them right. It’s their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you, that’s what I think,”

“I’ll get a very bad score,” the smile slowly fell from Katniss’ face.

“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones,” Portia chipped in.

“For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy all the time,” [Y/n] said with a reassuring smile.

[Y/n] turned her attempt at motherly reassurance to Peeta as he followed her with, “I hope that’s how people interpret the four I’ll probably get… if that,”

After dinner, the group settles in the sitting room to watch the scores be announced on television. A photo of the tribute appears on the screen and after they’ve been introduced, their score appears below them. The Career Tributes all score between 8 and 10. Most others score around 5. [Y/n] reminds Peeta and Katniss that this is normal. Then remembers most District 12 tributes generally score 4-6 and hopes that Katniss and Peeta don’t remember that.

Twenty-two tributes go across the screen when they finally see Peeta. The group celebrates while Peeta comes to terms with his score of 8. Katniss remained stoic in her seat, radiating anxiety before her number flashes underneath her picture:

“Eleven!” Effie squeals.

Cinna and Portia cheer and congratulate her. [Y/n] and Haymitch excitedly give each other a hug and then join the congratulations.

Katniss is still in disbelief, “There must be a mistake. How ... how could that happen?”

“I guess they liked your guts,” Haymitch said. 

“They’ve got a show to put on. They need some players with heat.” [Y/n] added.

“Katniss, the girl who was on fire,” says Cinna, “Oh, wait until you see your interview

dress.” 

“More flames?” Katniss asked 

“Of a sort,” he chuckled mischievously.

The group wrapped up the congratulations, discussed their schedules for tomorrow, and headed off to their rooms. 

Back in his room and uncharacteristically brushing his teeth before bed, Haymitch felt a pair of arms wrap around him. He looked down and recognized the carefully manicured hands of [Y/n]. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,”

[Y/n] nuzzled her forehead between his shoulder blades, “Do you think they can do it?”

“Well I know you don’t mean ‘can they both win’. So, do what?”

“Work together. Can one of them overcome this?”

“I guess we’ll see. There’s something there in both of them,”

Masterlist

The Pink Rose Masterlist

Hunger Games AU fanfic / Haymitch Abernathy x reader fanfic. (*) means it's got some spice.

Part 1 (*)

Part 2

Part 3 (*)

Part 4

Part 5 (*)

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (*)

UPDATE: Hello hello my lovelies- So I know The Pink Rose has gained a small following recently (which I absolutely appreciate). I am currently taking a small hiatus to read Sunrise on the Reaping. I hope to be back and ready to share Part 9 with you by June 1, 2025.

Thank you all.

The Pink Rose, part 4

Part Four- July 5th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader (vaguely, part 4 is mostly filler- sorry)

Word count: 1,444

Warnings: Brief violence, weapons, and reference to death

[Y/n] had slept too late, she knew Effie was going to be upset with her. She quickly readied herself to make a Capitol appearance when they arrived. Making her way to the dining car, she prepared herself to get some snide remark about punctuality from Effie. As soon as the car door opened, [Y/n] saw Peeta slap the glass of wine from Haymitch’s hand as Peeta said, “Only not to us!”

A half second later, Haymitch punched Peeta’s jaw, knocking him to the ground before reaching for the liquor cart. Without missing a beat, [Y/n] and Katniss each grabbed a knife from the nearest place setting. Katniss drove her knife into the table between Haymitch’s hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers. In the same second, [Y/n] expertly threw a knife and sent it directly through the space between Haymitch and Katniss causing them to lean apart from each other.

Haymitch sat back in his chair, first raising an eyebrow at [Y/n], then looking at their tributes, “Well, what’s this?” he said, “Did we actually get a pair of fighters this year?”

Peeta rose to his feet and reached for the ice for his jaw, but Haymitch stopped him.

“No,” Haymitch smirked, “Let the bruise show. The audience will think you’ve mixed it up with another tribute before you’ve even made it to the arena.”

“That’s against the rules,” Peeta shot back.

“Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought but you weren’t caught, even better,” 

[Y/n] opened her mouth to protest but Haymitch held up a finger and turned to Katniss. “Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?”

With an eerily blank expression on her face, Katniss removed the knife from the table and flicked it away, lodging it directly between two of the decorative wall panels. [Y/n] and Haymitch exchanged impressed looks.

“Both of you come stand over here,” [Y/n] said seriously, nodding to the middle of the room. Not being Haymitch, the tributes obeyed. [Y/n] and Haymitch examined Katniss and Peeta. They weren’t completely malnourished and seemed strong enough.

“Well, you’re not entirely hopeless. Seem fit,” Haymitch said.

[Y/n] added, “And once the stylists get hold of you, you’ll be attractive enough for the sponsors… I would know,” 

Peeta and Katniss didn’t question this, the Hunger Games weren’t a beauty contest, but the best-looking tributes always seemed to pull more sponsors.

“All right, I’ll make a deal with you two, actually, all of you,” He looked directly at Effie that time, “You don’t interfere with my drinking, and I’ll stay sober enough to help [Y/n] help you. But you have to do exactly what I say.”

“Fine,” says Peeta.

“So help us,” Katniss interjected, “When we get to the arena, what’s the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone—”

“One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we’ll be pulling into the station. You’ll be put in the hands of your stylists. You’re not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don’t resist,” says Haymitch.

“But —” Katniss began.

Haymitch opened his mouth and [Y/n] held up her hand that time, “No buts- just let them do their job,” she nodded at both tributes, “But if they make you too uncomfortable, you tell me and I’ll handle it,”

Haymitch left the car and the train entered the last tunnel before the Capitol. As soon as the train left the tunnel, the Capitol came into view. Peeta and Katniss ran to the window to see the ruling city of Panem. As they pulled into the station, the people begin to point at Katniss and Peeta eagerly as they recognized a tribute train rolling into the city. Katniss stepped away from the window, but Peeta stayed, waving and smiling at the crowd. He stopped once out of view.

He turned to Katniss and said “Who knows? One of them may be rich.”

[Y/n] chuckled at how fast Peeta was learning and he seemed to be ready to fight in every way. Haymitch definitely misjudged him. But [Y/n] still worried about Katniss. That girl must have a hard time trusting anyone.

*     *     *

Katniss and Peeta had an interesting introduction to the Capitol- one [Y/n] still cringed at the thought of. [Y/n] at least had an idea of what Katniss would experience- exfoliated, waxed, tweezed, and practically hosed down. Then they would take her barely covered body to go meet a stranger who would decide what she wears in front of Panem. Unlike other years, [Y/n] liked the District 12 Stylist, Cinna. Even Haymitch didn’t seem to mind him. They hoped this up-and-coming stylist would make their tributes something worthwhile.

Haymitch joined [Y/n] and Effie outside the building where the chariots were kept, but he didn’t enter with them. Finally, Effie and [Y/n] saw Cinna leading Katniss and Peeta towards the chariot. Cinna’s assistant, Portia, followed behind, fussing over every strand in Katniss’ hair. The two tributes were dressed in a simple, conservative black unitard with an uncommonly high neckline. [Y/n] remembered that she had mentioned to Cinna that for her own ceremony, she’d hated how much cleavage they made her show. The unitard was accompanied by a pair of shiny leather boots laced up to their knees. [Y/n] was most surprised to see the long billowing capes and matching headpieces. The red, orange, and yellow were an impressive contrast to the black. [Y/n] heard Cinna telling them about a synthetic fire for the costume. Of course- they weren’t coal miners this year, they were the coal!

As Katniss and Peeta’s chariot took off, [Y/n] could see them whispering to each other. She couldn’t help but hope that they would do great things. As the opening music played, [Y/n] wished Haymitch would participate more. He did say he would help- but maybe he didn’t mean public appearances. [Y/n] knew she was forcibly comfortable in the public eye, but Haymitch was not quite the flavor the public eye favored. His consistent public drunkenness was not something District 12, much less the rest of Panem was happy to accept. 

Effie, Portia, and [Y/n] watched the ceremony on their own screen where they would wait to collect their tributes. Each district’s chariot crossed the screen as they listened to the commentators give their opinions on the designs. District 1: luxury items- wore fashionable, jeweled tunics and had their skin spray painted silver. A hard act to follow for the attention of the capitol- hopefully Cinna had something extraordinary up his sleeve. [Y/n] looked around wondering if she’d get a glimpse of Haymitch when suddenly she heard the gasps and cheers for District 12! Effie and Portia were beaming as [Y/n] whipped her head around and saw her tributes on fire! Cinna and Portia’s synthetic fire was just the combination of danger, beauty, and excitement that reeled in the sponsors. The ceremony music could barely be heard behind the overwhelming cheers of Katniss and Peeta’s names, the screams of appreciation, and clapping of thousands of hands.

[Y/n] jumped as a hand rested on her shoulder and the owner said, “I didn’t know she could smile,”

Haymitch could always be counted on for a sarcastic comment. Although, it was good to see Katniss helping herself and Peeta by playing to the crowd: catching a rose, blowing kisses, and proudly holding hands- Katniss was coming out of her shell. She was going to fight. 

After the ceremony, the tributes chariots were brought inside. Effie and [Y/n] rushed to meet Katniss and Peeta with the intention of beating everyone who would want to meet them. It didn’t take long for Katniss to point out that she had made several enemies already. She’d stolen sponsors from Districts 1, 2, and 3. 

Cinna and Portia helped put out the flames. Tributes weren’t usually worried about relationships, especially because there was only one winner. But [Y/n] felt like there was something between Katniss and Peeta and wondered if she should shut that down before they literally have to try killing each other. To solidify her wondering, Peeta said something that made Katniss smile and reach up to kiss his cheek. Oh no, [Y/n] couldn’t allow that- or could she? Should she let them die happy? Or risk one of them losing the other? She figured they were 16 and it wouldn’t lead to anything anyway- at least one of them would die feeling like they’d felt something for the other. 

Masterlist

The Pink Rose, part 3

Part Three- July 4th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,972

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, couple argument, slapping, guilt, age gap, pet names, heterosexual relationship

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins. And please be nice. Warning line marks 18+ part

[Y/n] had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit in the plush, velvet seats on the train that would take them to the Capitol. Haymitch was on the train somewhere; probably the bar car, and Effie would be escorting Katniss and Peeta to the train station about now. [Y/n] had boarded the train early to make herself up to Effie and the Capitol’s standards. She pinned her hair up with a hairpin that had a snake on one end and it’s eyes made of green stones. Her silk dress was a deep emerald color and wrapped around her shoulders was a sheer, matching shawl. On her feet were a set of black high heels with what might have been the sharpest toe point in history. Starting today and until the end of the games, [Y/n] would have to step into the role of the glamorous, voluptuous, female victor from District 12. The diamond in the rough who had been extracted from 12 by the Hunger Games. This was an embarrassing way to be seen and [Y/n] hated it. She felt dirty wearing an outfit that could no doubt have been sold to feed a family of 4 for at least a month. But the other Victors would only see her for what she was: a formidable opponent who had defied the odds in her own game, but never had tributes who could do the same.

Shaking her head away from the superficial complaints she’d kept to herself, she thought of Katniss and Peeta. Would they be receptive to her help? To what extent did they even have a chance? How long would they last? [Y/n] felt evil thinking that last part; but as Haymitch had said in the past, the earlier they die, the longer you have to drink about it. 

After an eternity of waiting, the silver door to the train car slid open, and in walked Katniss, followed by Peeta and Effie. The two teens had identical looks of shock on their faces. It would’ve been quite the sight to a young person from District 12. Nothing in their District was this shiny or immaculate. Even with Peeta being the son of a baker, [Y/n] doubted that neither he or Katniss had ever seen such an array of baked goods and fruit in their lives. The two took seats near [Y/n]. They moved slowly as if they were afraid they might break something. No doubt the very color of the fabric on the chairs was foreign to them.

Effie poured two cups of tea- one for herself and one for [Y/n]. She brought the cups over and made herself comfortable.

“200 miles per hour and you can barely feel a thing,” she mused excitedly to the teens, “I think it’s one of the wonderful things about this opportunity- that even though you’re here and even though it’s just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this!”

[Y/n] smirked because Peeta and Katniss did not appear to fully share Effie’s excitement at their “opportunity”. 

Effie could only stand so much awkward tension before she got up and walked out of the car, “I’m going to find Haymitch; he’s probably in the bar car!”

[Y/n], Katniss, and Peeta sat in silence for several minutes, just observing each other and glancing around the car so as not to make eye contact. Just when the silence was about to break, the car door slid open and in walked Haymitch. He had the slightest sway when he walked, but other than that he was still in a functional stage of drunkenness. 

He looked at Katniss and Peeta and with a hint of sarcasm said, “Congratulations,” before walking to the small liquor cart to pour himself another drink. [Y/n] rolled her eyes at the snide comment from her fellow victor. The group continued to sit in silence, this time all watching Haymitch as he rummaged through the cart and mumbled, “No ice? Why can’t they get ice?” he slammed down the lid on the ice bucket, making Peeta jump in his seat. With a glass in one hand, Haymitch decided to just drink straight from the bottle if he couldn’t have his drink iced. Katniss’ eyes followed him suspiciously as he walked towards them and sat down next to [Y/n]. Katniss was just worried that he’d try and hug her again.

Peeta looked at Haymitch and [Y/n], cleared his throat and asked “Okay, when do we start?”

Haymitch immediately held up one hand, “Whoa! So eager!” [Y/n] placed a hand on his shoulder as he continued his sarcastic remark, “Usually you all aren’t in such a… hurry,”

Before [Y/n] could open her mouth, Peeta looked right at Haymitch and without missing a beat, “Yeah, well, you’re our mentor, you’re supposed to tell us how to get sponsors and give us advice!”

Haymitch looked at him with an irritated expression, “Oh, well then, embrace the possibility of your imminent death and know- in your heart- that there’s nothing I can do to save you,”

Peeta glared at him as Katniss shot back, “So why are you here then?”

“For the refreshments,” Haymitch got up, put his hand on [Y/n]’s shoulder and then walked back towards the bar car.

Peeta shot up before calmly stating, “He’ll come around, I’m gonna go talk to him,”

“Peeta!” [Y/n] called, but he ignored her and followed Haymitch out. 

[Y/n] and Katniss stared at each other for a second before [Y/n] sighed, “I’ll apologize for the rude welcoming; not that the whole idea of the Hunger Games is welcoming in the first place. But you should at least be able to trust the few people from your District who will be in the Capitol,”

Katniss nodded and quietly thanked her.

“I think we should wait to talk strategy until the boys are less… riled up,” [Y/n] suggested, “Why don’t you go take some time to yourself? Have a snack and a shower- those will be nonexistent in the arena. Might as well use Capitol resources for your benefit while you can,” she smiled at Katniss and declared she was going to take a nap before dinner as she left the car in the opposite direction of Haymitch and Peeta. 

So far, Katniss liked [Y/n] much better than Haymitch or Effie. There was something about [Y/n] that was kind and comforting, but also mysterious and seemingly held some contempt for the Capitol.

*     *     *

After dinner had been cleared, [Y/n] shooed Katniss and Peeta to bed and told them they had a long day tomorrow. The two didn’t hesitate to leave and struggled to drag their bodies- who’d never been this full of food- back to their quarters.

As soon as the doors slid closed, [Y/n] looked at Haymitch and gave him a disapproving look. Effie looked at the two of them and straightened up in her seat, wondering if [Y/n] would finally be taking her side.

Haymitch looked up at [Y/n] with an oblivious look, “What?”

“Really Haymitch? Those kids need people they can trust before they go into that arena. You didn’t have a mentor at all, and I’ll admit you were no help until you realized I actually had a chance! You could at least try. That’s all I ask is you not act like a drunken fool when you’re around kids from our District who’ve been sent to the slaughterhouse!”

“Why do you suddenly care so much about these two?” He stood up and walked over to her side of the table, “Over ten years and all of a sudden,” he put one hand on the table and one on her chair. He leaned in, “You think you can point the finger and be the only one who cares? You, the one who disappeared to the Capitol for months at a time? Boy, the Capitol must really love you- what did Snow offer you to starting caring more for-”

[Y/n] shot out of her seat and slapped Haymitch sharply across the face as Effie gasped her name loudly.

[Y/n] glowered into Haymitch’s face, “Don’t. Ever. Use Snow and the Capitol against me,” Feeling the tears begin to build, she rushed from the car. Haymitch had no idea what he was talking about. After becoming a Victor, she did spends up to 3 months in the Capitol at a time, but not by choice. Haymitch wouldn’t know. There were maybe two other Victors in all of Panem who more or less knew what she had experienced, and [Y/n] didn’t want her tears to tell the others.

*     *     *

[Y/n] lay in her bed staring at the dark ceiling of her chambers. She had enough experience with the Capitol’s trickery to know that at least one of the four sconce chandeliers held a camera. She was one of the desirable victors, so the Capitol used any chance to collect even a glimpse of her body. This was one of the ironies of being spontaneous at Haymitch’s house; the Capitol could not care less about Haymitch or his sex life. [Y/n] chuckled at the thought of someone paying money to see Haymitch pace around his room, drunk. 

Drunk and angry? How upset was he that she had slapped him? The guilt of attacking the only person who meant anything to her began to build. Did she ruin her chances with him? They’d never had an interaction like that before. A tear ran down her cheek- putting on a show, being nice, and then attacking when they’ve upset you. She was no better than the Capitol.

Her mind raced in circles: she’d just been mad at him for being drunk hours earlier. No- not for being drunk, for how he treated Katniss and Peeta. And she acted irrationally when he said something she didn’t like. And despite how they’d acted, she knew neither of them meant it- she hoped he didn’t mean it. The Capitol had done a number on her and every other Victor. No one came out of the arena the same way they went in, and that followed them until the day they died.

[Y/n]’s mind raced through the countless Victors she’d met who were unstable in so many ways. She must’ve seen crazy to someone too. She threw herself out of bed and realized she hadn’t changed out of her dinner dress or taken off her makeup. At least her hair wasn’t a disaster; not that she cared, Haymitch had seen her bedhead before. [Y/n] wouldn’t be able to sleep again until she apologized. Now.

She picked out a pair of black slippers and made her way to the next train car. The train never ceased to amaze her, sneaking around like a delinquent child and she couldn’t feel the train moving beneath her feet. But the train would feel her and it would see her too. Every hall had a camera to watch who was moving where. [Y/n] shrugged, they could know she was going to see Haymitch at 11:30 at night, but they could only assume what would happen once she went inside.

[Y/n] made it to the next car and found Haymitch’s chambers. She lightly knocked on the door and listened for a response. Instead of a voice, the door quickly slid open. Standing in the doorway was a disheveled Haymitch. His shirt was unbuttoned, his pants wrinkled, and his feet bare. His salt and pepper curls were wild and his grey eyes tired. But something about those eyes became brighter when he realized who was at his door.

After a brief moment, Haymitch grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room and embraced her, “I’m sorry for today,” he whispered into her hair.

[Y/n] was stunned, she didn’t come here looking for an apology, “I came to apologize to you… are you still drunk?”

“No,” he said quietly and let go except for her hand, “I know I’m not because I can feel it… I understand if you don’t want to deal with… this,” he gestured to himself. 

[Y/n] sighed, “You must be forgetting, I’m the one who slapped you. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am,”

Haymitch chuckled and pointed at the scars across his abdomen, “Not the worst I’ve had,”

She rolled her eyes, “Haymitch, I still feel bad. It was uncalled for and irrational and -”

Haymitch grabbed [Y/n] by her upper arms, and smashed his lips onto her. [Y/n] placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest. He pulled his mouth a few inches away and touched his forehead to hers, “I love you,” [Y/n] felt the fireworks in her chest leap forth.

“I love you Haymitch,” [Y/n] threw her arms around his neck and resumed the kiss. She was noticeably more enthusiastic this time. Haymitch was much taller than her so when he stood all the way up, her feet came off the ground. When their lips parted for air, [Y/n] felt bold and breathed, “Haymitch, I need you,”

Haymitch set her on her feet and stroked his hands down her sides and around to her back. He pulled the small zipper down and let his fingers lightly trail down her spine before allowing the silky dress to slip down her soft curves with ease. His eyes rested on her breasts as a deep breath caught in his chest. [Y/n] slowly pushed Haymitch backwards until he fell onto the bed. He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked into [Y/n]s deep brown eyes. As she gazed down at him, she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, tossing it aside. Haymitch’s eyes widened, his reaction was like he had never seen her body before.He noticed her underwear were made of black lace and cut into a V shape that was hardly there. Haymitch’s breathing faltered as [Y/n] approached him. Unzipping his trousers, she helped him shimmy them lower with his briefs, and allowed him to spring up at attention.

“Well someone is ready to go,” she smiled devilishly.

[Y/n] crawled up the end of the bed and up over Haymitch until she was hovering above him, nose to nose. Haymitch reached up and ran his fingers into her hair, pulling her face towards his and kissing her deeply. She smiled into the kiss and lowered her hips to lightly grind on Haymitch. He released a deep chesty groan before sitting up and whispering into her mouth, “Damn sweetheart, I wanna fuck you again!”

[Y/n] smiled and bit her lip, “Then do it already!”

Haymitch chuckled lightly before getting up on his knees and roughly flipping [Y/n] onto her stomach, “Is this what you want?” He blew into her ear as he pinned her down by her wrists.

“Yes,” [Y/n] wiggled her rear and felt Haymitch stiffen as he moaned lightly.

Unexpectedly, Haymitch let go and [Y/n] felt the bed move as he leaned away from her. She turned around and gave him a confused look.

He furrowed his brow as he stood up and pulled his briefs back on, “What’re we doin’ Sweetheart?”

[Y/n] hadn’t been this confused in a long time, “Wha-?”

“I mean this is great- you’re amazing- but what is this?” He asked.

“What are you talking about? Not five minutes ago you said you loved me!”

“Which makes sense; you’re beautiful, smart, cunning, fiery, and you put up with me. But you loving me? That makes no sense; I’m a miserable, old drunk who took advantage of a girl who I have more than a decade on!” 

“Haymitch… when you’re not absolutely hammered, you’re also smart and cunning… and you’ve always put up with me. We’ve known each other for 13 years. You might be older than I am, but we didn’t start here- I honestly hated you when we first met,” she got off the bed and walked over to him, placing her hand gently on his face, “But I’ve considered you a great friend for a very long time; and I’ve come to realize  in the last few years that you’re the one person in Panem who has ever cared for me in the last 13 years- and I love you,”

Haymitch wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, “Well, I’m sorry I made you love me,” he said with a hint of amusement.

She pulled back in disbelief, “Haymitch, I just poured my heart out!”

“And I’m not good with the lovey stuff; but I can say I love you too,” They stood locked in their embrace for a moment before Haymitch whispered, “Would you be mad if we finished this another night?”

“Absolutely not,” her smile disappeared, “Are we making this into something?”

“Thirteen years seems good enough… you want a title Sweetheart?”

“If we’re gonna sleep together more, I’d like to get rid of any speculation that could imply ‘desperate whore’ in my Victor description,”

Haymitch threw his head back and laughed, “Well I guess you’re gonna be my girlfriend wether the Capitol likes it or not,”

“Wether anyone likes it or not,” she kissed his jaw, “Get some sleep, you need to be a mentor tomorrow,”

Haymitch shook his head as he tossed her a robe, “Get outta here Sweetheart,”

She chuckled lightly as she put on the robe and gathered her things, “Are we crazy?”

“Crazy?” he questioned, “Maybe a little nuts. I’m a drunk. You don’t trust anyone. But I don’t think we’re crazy,” He walked over and hugged her again, lingering a little longer that time.

Masterlist

The Pink Rose, part 2

Part Two- July 4th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader 

Word count: 2,778

Warnings: drinking, references to sex, threats, implied PTSD

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins.

Effie Trinket stood out like a sore thumb in District 12. Her face was caked with white foundation, colorful lines, and lipstick in classic Capitol style. Piled on her head was a large, curly wig with a pinkish tint. To complete her ensemble was a spring green suit with matching high heels. The only thing that didn’t match was the extremely uncomfortable expression on her face as she stood outside Haymitch’s house.

Not long after being interrupted, [Y/n] emerged from the house and was immediately met with a look of disapproval from Effie. [Y/n] tried to avoid eye contact as she bit her lip, feeling like a schoolgirl awaiting a lecture from the teacher. 

Effie stared her down as if waiting for an explanation until the front door swung open and out came Haymitch, bottle in hand. 

“Can you be sober for one ceremony?” Effie trilled angrily.

“I was sober for a ceremony and once for a ritual,” Haymitch said calmly before taking a swig from his unlabeled bottle.

“Oh really? When was this?” Effie scoffed.

Haymitch licked his lips and then looked down at Effie before saying in a very serious tone, “I was sober at my own reaping ceremony, sweetheart; and as for the ritual,” he quickly kissed [Y/n]’s cheek and smacked her rear playfully, “You just got a front row view of that one,” he laughed.

Effie scoffed in disbelief and marched ahead of them impressively quick. Once she was a reasonable distance away, [Y/n] punched Haymitch’s arm.

“I can’t believe you said that to her!”

“She barged into my house without knocking,” he raised his voice to imitate Effie, “It’s just bad manners,”

[Y/n] then got close enough to Haymitch that she could smell the liquor accumulating on his breath, “Well Mr. Abernathy before you get too drunk, was it a ritual or just a moment of lust?”

He gulped, “Can I say both?”

[Y/n] narrowed her eyes and gave a suspicious half-smile, “That’s acceptable,”

After one last peck on the lips, they returned to their respective houses and readied their appearances for the Reaping Ceremony.

*     *     *

Two hours later, Haymitch, Effie, and [Y/n] made their way to the square for the Reaping. [Y/n] dreaded this every year- and from the smell of Haymitch, he did too. The sickening, sweet scent of Effie’s perfume and the pungent odor of alcohol on Haymitch made for an interesting cloud around the trio.

“I have a good feeling about this year,” Effie said awkwardly, breaking the silence.

“You’ve been saying that,” [Y/n] grumbled, “All morning; tsk, a reaping ceremony- that’s like saying a funeral gala,”

“Oh stop it!” Effie hissed at the same time Haymitch laughed.

District 12’s square was decorated with happy banners that were an unsettling contrast to the sad grey buildings and grim feeling in the air. There were camera crews already situated on the rooftops like gargoyles. This allowed the Capitol to efficiently observe the people of the district under the guise of the televised games.

[Y/n] and Haymitch were seated on the stage. Other districts had rows of chairs for their victors, or at least a cluster. In District 12, they had 2 seats for their living victors, an empty one in memory of the only other victor from 12, one for the mayor, and one for Effie. Haymitch began to slump in his chair- [Y/n] understood the alcoholism, but she really could’ve lived without the public drunkenness on days like today. She sat in her chair and tried to ignore the snoring and muttering from next to her. With a flat affect on her face, [Y/n] watched intently as the youth of District 12 filed in. Only comparable to the livestock she’d seen in District 10, the 12- to 18-year-olds filed into the roped areas and were sorted by age. Like animals set for slaughter, [Y/n] thought, how fitting. The families of the youth lined the square, waiting intently to learn who would be saying goodbye to their children. [Y/n] pursed her lips as she noticed two men off to the side setting bets for whether the names drawn would be from the Seam or not. It was in poor taste- but she knew they weren’t necessarily wrong. Those from the Seam were the poorest in the district. The more times one entered their name, the more tesserae they got. The oldest siblings from the Seam appeared as tributes more often than not- taking the odds out of their favor by supporting their family the best they could. 

The final touches were brought out to the stage. Two large glass orbs with an opening in the top of each; the contents were slips of paper with the names of eligible tributes. One orb was full of the names of every male 12 to 18, and the other was full of the names of their female counterparts. The town clock struck two and the mayor approached the podium and began to read the history of Panem. The history [Y/n] had heard what seemed like a million times before. Disasters- natural and man-made- plagued the land formerly called North America. The war ravaged the land and finally, it all ended, and up rose Panem. Panem: a Capitol and 13 Districts. Then more war, the Dark Days, the loss of District 13 via revolution, and finally current-day Panem. Only one small twist- Panem got the Hunger Games. [Y/n] scoffed quietly as the Hunger Games was referred to as a “pageant”. 24 young people, 1 male and 1 female from each District stuck into an arena to fight to the death until 1 lone victor remained. [Y/n] sighed at the thought of her own hands having killed someone- four someones to be exact. Haymitch got out having killed two- but the Capitol didn’t like his style so they killed his family and his girlfriend. Forgotten by most, [Y/n] had angered President Snow with her post-games interview- coincidently, her mother, father, and four siblings all died of some mysterious illness that no other household caught.

“It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks,” the mayor finished before pausing, “And now a moment of silence in memoriam of the lost and celebration of the victors of District 12: Lucy Gray Baird, Haymitch Abernathy, and [Y/n] Bellwood,” He gave a nod to [Y/n] and a short half smile- a smile that said “sorry I have to keep bringing this up” rather than “thank you”. The crowd briefly hesitated before giving an applause. The applause sounded like no one knew what they were clapping for. 

Haymitch sat up and yelled something unintelligible. Effie flinched away from the sudden sound and [Y/n] sighed. Effie’s face looked like a mother who almost could not tolerate any more of her child’s outbursts. [Y/n] put one hand on Haymitch’s shoulder and whispered calming words in his ear- he sat back down and put his face in his hands. The mayor then redirected the attention of the people to Effie.

Bouncy and bubbly, Effie almost danced to the podium and beamed as she gave her catchphrase, “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!” Her pink wig has gone slightly askew- not noticeably- but [Y/n] knew Effie well enough to tell. Effie kept talking in her unnecessarily happy tone about how honored she was to be there (which no one believed). Suddenly, Effie proudly said, “Ladies first” and waltzed over to the glass orb with the female names. She dug around and pulled out a slip of paper. Despite the over 8,000 people in attendance, you could’ve heard a button hit the ground a mile away from how quiet it was.

[Y/n] gulped- which child was she going to be forced to give advice to and lead down the glitzy, demeaning path of the Capitol to their death in an unfamiliar arena surrounded by strangers who want to kill them?

“Primrose Everdeen!”

The crowd grumbled with displeasure- Primrose must be a young tribute- an under-14. Districts typically dislike it when the young ones get picked. [Y/n] finally spotted her- a tiny, thin girl with blonde braids was slowly creeping up the aisle between the groups. Her face was completely drained of whatever color it once had but she still looked sick at the same time. Her arms were rod straight at her sides and her hands were balled into little fists. [Y/n] could almost feel those little fists grabbing her insides and twisting them. Watching the little ones die was always the hardest- it was never fair for them. [Y/n] bowed her head slightly so any emotion she showed wouldn’t be televised.

A cry choked out from the crowd “Prim!” and every head whipped towards the source.

“Prim!” the girl shouted again. She pushed- with minimal effort- through the sea of 16-year-olds and into the aisle where Primrose was. The peacekeepers were so shocked that the older girl was able to make it all the way to Primrose at the base of the stage. The older girl pushed Primrose behind her and shouted “I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

The crowd rumbled with whispers as if this girl had just committed some great scandal. She hadn’t, but the last time District 12 had a volunteer was well before [Y/n] was ever born. Technically, once a tribute’s name has been drawn, any eligible person of the same gender can step forward to take their place. This was commonplace in Districts like 1 and 2- sometimes 3. But in the outlying Districts of 9-12, this was almost unheard of.

“Lovely!” Effie beamed, “But I believe there’s a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um- uh ...” she faltered, finally experiencing what it’s like when your mouth acts faster than your brain.

The mayor interrupted her, “What does it matter? Let her come forward,”

As soon as it was clear that the volunteer had been accepted, Primrose became hysterical and began to scream.

“No, Katniss! No! You can’t go!” Primrose screamed as she wrapped herself around the older girl.

The older girl- Katniss- had a pained expression as she tried to remain calm “Prim, let go,”

[Y/n] thought these girls must be related or at least indebted to each other in some way. Her eyes happened to glance up at a camera and her thoughts turned to how the citizens of the Capitol would be eating this up as they watched the dramatic scene unfold. However, the other victors could see the emotional situation as a weakness. Yes, this Katniss would be marked off as another easy target from 12 to pick off from the start. [Y/n] thought the presumptions and attention may not be bad for Katniss.

“Let go!” Katniss shouted as a tall young man quickly came forward from the 18-year-old group and pulled Primrose off Katniss’ back. He picked her up off the ground as if she were a doll and Primrose began to thrash as he carried her away.

Katniss slowly made her way up the few steps to the stage as Effie beamed, “Well, bravo! That’s the spirit of the Games! What’s your name?”

“Katniss Everdeen,”

Effie’s face lit up at that dramatic tidbit, “I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don’t want her

to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!”

Effie was the only one to clap.

The square became silent. Not a soul in 12 dared to show even a fake approval of what they had just witnessed. District 12 was always allowed the short end of the stick and [Y/n] thought it a credit to the District when they collectively acknowledged the unfair position they’d been given. No one clapped. Suddenly, an older woman touched the three middle fingers of her left hand to her lips and then held it out to Katniss. One by one, more and more people joined in the salute until nearly the whole square had their hands up pointing at Katniss. [Y/n] was shocked and had never seen such a display of collective respect for anyone out of District 12. [Y/n] had seen this salute at a funeral once before- it was an old and now uncommon gesture of the district. It is a sign of thanks and admiration typically given to one who is deeply cared for.

Appropriate, thought [Y/n]. Welcome Katniss Everdeen. Welcome to the Hunger Games. Goodbye Katniss Everdeen. Say goodbye to District 12 as you know it.

[Y/n] gasped as Haymitch suddenly staggered across the stage and threw an arm around Katniss “Look at her! Look at this one!” he shouted, “I like her! Lots of ... Spunk!” he beamed almost as much as Effie had. He removed his arm from Katniss: “More than you! More than you!” he pointed to the nearest camera. He continued to shout until he stumbled so far forward that he fell off the stage and sprawled out drunk and unconscious. 

Effie groaned with displeasure. [Y/n] massaged between her eyebrows with her thumb and pointer finger as she gave a deep sigh. Katniss impressively placed her hands behind her back and stared into the distance as two peacekeepers moved Haymitch away with a stretcher.

Effie could always be counted on to break the silence- even if it wasn’t required.

“What an exciting day! But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our boy tribute!” 

She floated over to the second glass orb and pecked a name slip out.

“Peeta Mellark.”

There was no dramatic family interference this time. Just a classic, somber silence as the stocky, blonde young man of 16 made his way up to the stage. The realization of his name being selected slowly moved across his face. Effie probed for any other volunteers, but no one stepped up for young Peeta. 

The mayor routinely concluded the ceremony by reading the Treaty of Treason to his District. Upon conclusion, he prompted Katniss and Peeta to shake hands. The two 16-year-olds turned to face the sea of people looking up at them as Panem’s anthem began to play on the loudspeakers. A minute later, Peacekeepers marched the newest tributes through the front door of the Justice Building and out of sight.

*     *     *

[Y/n] followed the small procession into the justice building and a peacekeeper pointed her to a room down the hall. When she entered, she noticed a large translucent vase full of pink roses. This made her freeze where she stood. She suddenly became very hot and her heart began to beat a million miles a minute. She’d once told Cesar Flickerman that she enjoyed the color pink and that it was difficult to find in District 12. But [Y/n] knew these roses were not for her enjoyment; they were a warning to behave herself. 

Haymitch was fast asleep on a dusty gray sofa against the wall. They’d left him in a seated position with his head slumped back. [Y/n] thought his neck would probably ache when he woke up. She glanced back at the roses and felt the tears well up in her eyes. She tried to brush them away as she walked towards the sofa and sat down- she couldn’t be weak or look as if she’d cried before meeting the tributes. Haymitch startled awake at the feeling of someone sitting next to him. He looked at [Y/n] with glassy eyes and smiled a drunk, awkward attempt at a smolder. 

“Just go back to sleep,” [Y/n] chuckled softly, “You’ll need to meet the tributes later,”

[Y/n] knew Haymitch would enter the stage of “functioning drunk” after a nap. He would be able to interact and remember longer snippets of what happened, but he would still be drunk nonetheless. 

[Y/n] put her feet up on the sofa on each side of Haymitch. He stretched out and laid his head down on her chest, immediately falling back asleep. She looked down at him and began to stroke his hair. She smiled to herself at the thought that they’d been intimate only hours earlier. So much had happened in one day. She’d been caught naked with a man by Effie Trinket; a girl volunteered as tribute to protect her sister; the Capitol threatened her with flowers; and she realized she had fallen for Haymitch Abernathy.

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The Pink Rose, part 1

*GIF creator unknown

Part One- July 4th, 74 ADD Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Word Count: 2,462

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, nightmares, witnessed death, implication of death, alcoholism, unprotected sex, sex after drinking, age gap, heterosexual relationship

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins. And please be nice… I’ve never written fanfic or spicy things before- we’re starting vanilla. I will mark where the 18+ part starts and ends.

The cold night air smelled like fire and salt. The arena for the 61st Hunger Games was set up like a quarry next to the sea. [Y/n] was the 15-year-old tribute from District 12. Taking advantage of the low light and tall grass, the only other tributes were in her line of sight and fighting to the death. Spruce Silentsong - District 7 - and Millie Forge - District 2, were engaged in battle and had no idea [Y/n] was watching. Spruce was armed with two hand axes, which served her well-being from the lumber district. Millie had a sword in one hand and a mace in the other. The sword had once been in [Y/n]’s possession, but when Millie and the other careers descended on the District 9, 11, and 12 alliance, [Y/n] was the only one who made it out; without her weapon.

The gurgle of someone choking on blood sounded, followed by the thud of a falling body. [Y/n] thought Spruce must have hesitated. She’d scored high in the assessment, but Millie thirsted for blood. The gong sounded, marking the death of another tribute. 22 down, 1 to go. [Y/n] was still about 12 yards from Millie, but she knew she needed to act while Millie caught her second wind. She looked down to double-check how many throwing knives she had. [Y/n] looked away for half a second and her face rose to lock eyes with a piercing blue set, inches from her face. [Y/n] screamed.

She thrashed for a moment before realizing she was in her bed. She’d left the arena 13 years ago, but the nightmares stuck around. [Y/n] breathed heavily as she sat up and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. Feeling the sheets next to her, she noticed they were cold and suddenly became aware of the early morning light streaming through the cracks in the curtains, highlighting the dust in the air.

Making her way downstairs, the familiar smell of hard liquor hit her nose. It’s too early for this- she thought as she scanned the room for her neighbor. Haymitch Abernathy was the only other living District 12 Victor. He’d won 11 years before her, and the last Victor from 12 was decades before him- it was just them to understand each other in their whole district. It was just them in Victor’s Village. Haymitch and [Y/n] had both lost their families due to their young defiance of President Snow and the Capitol. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to stay at the other’s house in the month leading up to the Reaping. The closer the games got, the more frequent their demons seemed to visit. It was easier to help if they were under the same roof. In the last 2 years, they had taken to sleeping next to each other for comfort. Despite Haymitch’s frequent drunken stupor, they had developed a friendship built on sarcasm, life experience, and a unique outlook on the world that only a Hunger Games Victor could have. About 6 years of friendship later, the relationship turned platonic. This would seem odd to someone outside the relationship, but it was no bother to them. In his moments of being nearly sober, Haymitch was quite charming and a kind man with a sense of humor.

In the last two years, [Y/n] noticed that of all the people she interacted with in District 12, Haymitch was the one who could make her feel happy. He irritated the hell out of her sometimes, but she couldn’t deny that she had fallen for him. She didn’t expect him to return the feelings; people might not like the age gap and think her former mentor had taken advantage of her. Haymitch might be a good friend, but he may also be disgusted at the thought of any romance with someone he’d known since she was a teenager.

She stopped in the living room and found Haymitch asleep in the armchair with a bottle in one hand and what looked to be his shirt in the other. [Y/n] knew better than to get too close when waking up someone who’d been drinking. She stood a few feet away and threw a small couch cushion at him. Haymitch jumped and yelled at the sudden contact. “Dammit [Y/n]- what the hell are you doing?” he shouted after realizing where he was.

“Demons paid me a visit- do you have enough to share?” she nodded to the bottle that was still in Haymitch’s hand.

“Oh,” he faltered, “Help yourself, sweetheart,” She took a long swig before Haymitch reacted, “That bad, huh?”

“Don’t act like we don’t have the same dreams,” she pointed before taking another gulp.

The liquid had a comforting warmth as it ran down her throat but it still burned and created the feeling of stinging in her nostrils. The bittersweet feeling of downing alcohol was enough to take her mind off the Hunger Games. The more she drank, the more she understood why Haymitch kept himself in this state.

After almost an hour, [Y/n] could feel the heat in her cheeks and the chaotic feelings from earlier were almost gone. The dullness of her senses and her subdued anxiety were a treat. She looked over and noticed Haymitch was starting to nod off.

“Hey! Don’t leave me alone,” She said loud enough to bring Haymitch back.

Haymitch sighed, “What do you need sweetheart? You know I’m not the best company after drinking,”

Neither am I, she thought, “Hold me?” she suggested.

Haymitch stared at her before nodding his head and waving her over. [Y/n] climbed into his lap- he was larger than she was; this allowed him to envelope her in his arms with ease. She nuzzled her face into his chest. She could feel the old scars across his abdomen and tried not to think about when he got them. She was almost 5 during his games, but she remembered the vivid sight. Haymitch could feel [Y/n]’s slow, quiet tears run down his chest and he gave her a slight squeeze. Within half an hour, the inebriated duo was asleep.

Haymitch woke up, still mildly intoxicated, but much closer to sobriety than he was normally comfortable with. It was the day of the Reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. He heard the small woman in his lap begin to stir. She looked up at him with her deep [y/e/c] eyes and smiled. This girl- no- this woman was the closest thing he had to a family. He was the town drunk. He had business associates and people who tolerated him. Haymitch was a grown man, he never looked twice at the tributes or considered them family, much less friends. He’d hugged [Y/n] before, but this was different. For the first time in 24 years, Haymitch thought, What if she loved me?

He shook the thought from his head and felt disgusted with himself- she was so much younger than him and he didn’t want to ruin what they had spent the last 13 years building. When they met, he was already 27 and she was 15. The thought that they could be happy together would have been inappropriate then and it should be now. Right? Haymitch thought to himself that just because she was 28 and old enough to make her own decisions, that did not make a shift to intimacy okay. [Y/n] continued to smile at him; it had been a long time since anyone was happy to see him. He knew he irritated [Y/n], but she was never genuinely angry with him and still acknowledged him with kindness. They had developed some kind of relationship that was more than friends, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“Did you sleep alright this time, sweetheart?” he asked.

[Y/n] gave a soft chuckle, “I did- and it seems you did too,”

“What’s so funny?”

[Y/n] gave a little wiggle of her hips to emphasize that Haymitch had an erection and it was pressed right against her rear.

He gave a startled little jump and had a look of horror on his face, “I’m sorry-”

[Y/n] stopped him from getting up, “It’s okay, I don’t mind” She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side “Are you still drunk?”

[Y/n] laughed and quickly swung one leg over him so she was straddling him and he was situated right in front of her. He was so erect that he pressed against her stomach.

“No,” she leaned in and tickled his ear with a whisper, “But I’m quite wet,”

He gulped and tried to control his breathing. She was trying to… seduce him? But he’d been her mentor. But she was suggesting it. But he’d known her since she was 15. But she started this exchange. Conflicting thoughts raced through his mind. [y/n] saw the look on his face that was a mixture of shock and confusion- not someone who was willing to continue.

She turned her face away from him, “I’m sorry- I get it if I overstepped the boundary… I didn’t even ask,” she moved to get off him, but Haymitch grabbed her waist and told her to wait.

“[Y/n]- sweetheart- you’re beautiful and I’m not calming down,” he nodded down towards his erection, “But I’m not a good person. You deserve someone better- someone who won’t make you look bad in public. Not some drunk who takes advantage of a younger woman,”

[Y/n] didn’t know he felt this way. She grabbed his chin and demanded he look into her eyes.

“Haymitch Abernathy- I don’t deserve anything less than the man who is my greatest source of comfort, my biggest ally, my closest friend, and the person who currently has his cock in my lap,”

Haymitch was startled at her direct statement- he didn’t know she felt that way. He cupped her face with one hand and slightly tightened his grip on her waist. [Y/n] was more developed than most women in District 12. Haymitch couldn’t deny that he’d noticed her defined hourglass figure before, but who hadn’t?

“Kiss me” [Y/n] demanded quietly.

Haymitch nodded slowly, hesitated, and pressed his lips to hers. They started slow, and then [Y/n] traced his lips with her tongue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gradually became less gentle in how she kissed him. She felt herself getting more excited and began to move her hips back and forth. Haymitch let out a deep sigh at the feeling of her against him. He ran his rough hands up her torso and his thumbs over her hard nipples. Her soft breasts filled his hands perfectly and felt so good as he cupped them. [Y/n] pulled her face away and swiftly removed her nightshirt. She hadn’t worn pants to bed so she now sat on top of him in her panties. She pulled his face back to hers in the neediest way she could muster.

“Haymitch, I need you,”

“You have me,”

“I need you inside me,” she clarified.

Haymitch’s eyes widened as he paused, but he wasted no time lifting her off his lap to rip off his pants. [Y/n] used this moment to remove her underwear as she noticed he didn’t have any either. They stood there naked for less than a second before Haymitch guided her a few feet over to the sofa. She lay down and Haymitch crawled on top of her. He reached between her legs and ran his thumb in soft slow circles as he made eye contact and used his other hand to line up his aching length with her entrance.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked hesitantly

[Y/n] nodded.

“You have to say it,” he said seriously.

“Yes Haymitch, I want you- are you comfortable with this?” she asked.

“Yes,” he didn’t even hesitate; he hoped he wasn’t coming off as desperate- but that look she gave him was enough encouragement. Haymitch’s eyes turned dark as he slowly slipped into her. [Y/n] gasped as he pushed the rest of his length inside her soaking wet entrance. Haymitch was a little longer than average, but his girth filled her up as he thrust into her. He slowly picked up his pace- [Y/n] leaned her head back and moaned. Her plump lips made the perfect “O” shape before she said his name.

To see the way she reacted to his touch and hear how she moaned his name, Haymitch didn’t want this to stop- but he could feel the blood flowing and the heightened emotions. He didn’t want to be the first one to finish. He started to slow down and [Y/n] gave him a look of confusion. He cupped her cheek, removed himself from her body, and slid down making his face even with hips. [Y/n] looked down at Haymitch and smiled mischievously, biting her lip. Haymitch hooked his arms under her thighs so her knees were over his shoulders. He smiled up at her and then plunged his tongue into her folds. [Y/n] felt the jolt of electricity from the contact with her clit. Her hips bucked closer to his face and her head fell back.

“Oh my days, Haymitch,” she whined.

“How do you want it sweetheart?” he said with his mouth still against her.

[Y/n] smirked, turned around, and said, “Just fuck me, Haymitch,”

He quickly stood up and bent her over. She was so wet that it was much easier to dive his whole length inside her. Making her moan his name more, Haymitch gave it his all with quick hard thrusts. In the back of his mind, he prayed that this felt as good for her as it did for him.

Feeling her whole body tense up, [Y/n] groaned through gritted teeth, “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Haymitch was almost there too, “Yes, beautiful, cum on this cock,”

Suddenly the door flew open, “Haymitch you better not - AHH!!” Effie Trinket covered her eyes and ran out of the room with an impressive speed for someone wearing heels that high.

Haymitch and [Y/n] froze how they were. Still inside her, Haymitch said, “Well that’s an experience I never thought I’d have,”

[Y/n] looked over her shoulder and asked, “What? Fucking me or getting caught doing it?”

Haymitch sighed, “Cumming at the moment I got caught by her,”

They both laughed as Haymitch stood up and walked over to the kitchen to get a towel. They needed to clean up and clear the air with Effie.

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