On Our Way To Camp Out

My Camp name is Texas and when kids ask my real name I tell them "Tejas". None of them speak Spanish and they seriously believe it.

Okay, I’ll admit I’m a late bloomer when it comes to playing BG3 so I need someone to be happy for me. This nose boop had me ROLLIN’! 😂💖

This lives in my head rent-free. A truly iconic line.

THE PRINCESS DIARIES 2001 | dir. Garry Marshall

I AM SO STOKED!!!!

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.

Masterlist

A great weekend to end a not so great week.

I’m SO excited!!!!

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

He's as useful as the "G" in lasagna.