mj !

The Hunger Games

- Haymitch Abernathy

wymitch college au drabble

'to be loved is to be seen' (haymitch abernathy x donner!reader)

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au hcs

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au drabble

‘WANTED’ a wild west wymitch au

- Maysilee Donner

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au hcs

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au drabble

- Wyatt Callow

wymitch college au drabble

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au hcs

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au drabble

covey! wyatt callow x reader

‘WANTED’ a wild west wymitch au

- Lenore Dove Baird

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au hcs

maydove + wymitch college/roommates au drabble

Oc Works

'of course i feel too much, i'm a universe of exploding stars.'

heres some art ive done of wyatt and maggie peach !!

‘life of a victor’ (victor!wyatt callow x reader)

pairings: victor! wyatt callow x reader

warnings: mentions of the games and events/aspects occurring within, traumatized wyatt and reader, a bit angsty 😣

synopsis: the victor of the second quarter quell, wyatt callow, has finally arrived in district twelve after a grueling experience in the capitol. determined to return to his love, he avoids the citizens of his district and the promise of a better life.

w/c: ~1.9k words, not proofread

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i’ve been thinking about victor wyatt for a while and i even made an edit of him so i am soso glad i get to write about him now!! also i lowkey cried writing this soooo have fun

the train was eerily silent. wyatt hated how it left him all alone with all his thoughts, and how memories of what used to be crept in. when he saw the empty table in the main compartment, where he and maysilee sat next to one another during breakfast, he had to close his eyes and keep walking.

night rolled around slower than wyatt had anticipated. he curled up in the same bed he had rested in on the way to the capitol, but sleep never came to him easily. all that filled his mind was louella, and how her tiny voice had filled the air that one night. when she pleaded to haymitch about not wanting wyatt as an ally, and how haymitch so easily agreed. it stung when wyatt heard it the first time, but he found himself missing it—wyatt had found himself missing a lot recently.

wyatt’s evenings in the train were usually restless. his mind was on complete alert, and he wasn’t sure why. perhaps it was the aftereffects of the games lingering in his head, plaguing his thoughts and causing such depravity of sleep. that sounded the most plausible in wyatt’s opinion.

wyatt was never the type to dream or have nightmares before. not even after a particularly bad night with his father, where bottles were thrown around following a mishap in wyatt’s calculations.

wyatt’s time spent on the train felt like an eternity, and the addition of paranoia never helped. he felt as if he were a string pulled taut, tension flooding his veins. sometimes, he even believed he was being stalked, even in places where he double checked cameras weren’t installed. what if snow was watching? was he enjoying how utterly wrecked wyatt was? was this punishment for his family’s doings? if that was the case, he understood.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

wyatt was sure he was losing his mind when the train pulled into district twelve. he hadn’t even realized they had come to a stop, and it took a peacekeeper to rattle him from his dazed state. he was hauled off the train, and wyatt was somewhat satisfied that they hadn’t cuffed him like when he was getting on the train days ago.

wyatt was greeted with the sight of many district twelve civilians huddled in the station. some cheered, some weeped, some stared, but it made no difference to wyatt. he pushed through the crowd, muttering out small apologies as he shoved and bumped into people by accident.

a large hand grabbed wyatt by the shoulder, and he whipped his head around in return. a face too similar to his own stared back at him, conflict in the man’s eyes. it was jethro callow, wyatt’s father.

wyatt wasn’t sure what to do. he would never consider embracing the man, even after almost losing his life and his sanity. so wyatt pushed away from his dad, eyeing him once before focusing on moving forward. with the guarantee of an improved life, maybe wyatt could get away from jethro callow and end the cycle of being his father’s bastard.

district twelve is quiet, just like the train ride. the only answer to such silence was grief. wyatt knew everyone would be feeling it, even if he had just come home, and it wasn’t just because they had lost three of their own. wyatt callow was alive, which meant the booker boys’ legacy lived alongside him.

he should’ve died in that arena. he should’ve accepted his fate, maybe even eaten the poisonous fruit, or smelled the poisonous flowers like lou lou.

lou lou. oh, poor lou lou. a child taken from the world too soon. wyatt didn’t even know her real identity, and neither did she. he would have to live with that for the rest of his life; and it would only get worse each year. a new pair of tributes was awaiting him around this time next year, and there was absolutely nothing wyatt could do about it.

wyatt stumbles into his family home, and there’s no one to greet him. its odd, dreadfully so. usually his ma would be in the kitchen, reading a book or making dinner for him and his siblings, but there’s no one. wyatt never minded being alone because it came so naturally to him. he never had a crowd growing up, never had that comfort of a best friend. he was always the outcast, and the world had ensured that would be true for his remainder of years.

a shaky breath fills the air as wyatt lets out a deep exhale. the wood creaks beneath his feet as he takes slow steps towards the kitchen table. one of the chairs is on it’s way to ruination, the legs wobbly and almost as thin as a toothpick. the sight is homey, though.

another pair of footsteps descending the staircase awakes wyatt from his daze. his posture straightens automatically, assuming his ma or one of his older brothers would appear in the room with him. he’s wrong, however.

“wyatt,” your voice comes out as a gasp, a frail hand flying to cover your mouth as you greedily drink in the sight of him, hair tousled and clad in clothes too fancy to be wyatt’s. your approaching frame makes wyatt want to punch himself. you were so distraught, so hysterical, and he could only assume it was because of him and his absence.

“hey,” wyatt answers. it’s a rather foolish way to respond to the love of your life standing before you— however, it’s an incredibly wyatt thing to do. he was never good with words, you picked up on such when his confession of love came out as more of a stammered mess, but you loved him for that. wyatt became good at showing his affection in other ways than words, like teaching you card games and showing you his favorite deck.

your response is choked, and wyatt barely has time to process what you said before your arms are wrapping around his body. he lets out a noise of surprise, and his body involuntarily locks up. he hadn’t been touched like this, not since he was reaped and taken to the capitol without any say-so.

wyatt isn’t sure how to process your tears and the way you grip on his shirt, and he hates himself for that. he used to comfort you so well, before he was damned to the life of a victor. wyatt wondered what would change. would he hold you differently? would he love you differently? would you realize this and find him of no use anymore? it scared him, right down to his bones. that lingering feeling of anxiety never fully washed away after his name was drawn.

perhaps you had realized how stiff wyatt had become because you were pulling away before he had time to wrap his arms around you. he saw that look in your eyes, the one that told him that you were upset but couldn’t muster up a way to project it. he had seen it plenty of times before and every time he had known what to do, but now he was hopeless.

wyatt’s hand shakily came up to rest upon your face, calloused fingers warm against your skin. he was tense with it, but you could feel the love in his actions nonetheless. your eyes fluttered shut and absorbed his presence.

“are you angry with me?” wyatt asked. your heart sunk at his question. he sounded so small, so vulnerable. almost like he was a little boy again, begging for father’s love and instead being given a pencil and paper in place of a hug. you’ve heard such before, when wyatt came to you after a bad night with his dad. he always tried not to cry, but it always ended with tears soaking your shirt. it pained you to see him act so tough, knowing that deep down that little boy inside of him never knew affection or care, not before you came along.

“of course not,” you whispered in return. your eyes opened once again and you rested your hand against the one pressed against your cheek. wyatt’s shoulders relaxed at your confirmation, but only momentarily before he remembered why he was still standing here and how he was able to see you again.

wyatt nodded his head and answered you with a tight-lipped smile. you wished you could take his hurt and endure it yourself, because he didn’t deserve any of this. he never asked to be reaped, and he never asked to be born into such a rotten family. he was just a child, yet treated as if he were twenty five.

“you came back,” you said with a voice full of disbelief. at first glance, you thought you were hallucinating wyatt standing here. maybe it was your mind playing cruel jokes on you once again. your dreams were full of him ever since he left, like he was trying to reach for you across all those miles.

wyatt turns fidgety. he always got like that in the absence of something familiar, like his coin or a deck of cards; sometimes your hands. knowing this, you reach for him and lace your fingers together, letting him squeeze and caress your skin. wyatt seems to loosen up at this.

“i had to come back to you,” he says, swallowing and rolling his shoulders back, “i couldn’t… i couldn’t leave you alone; especially when everything’s so hard.” wyatt takes in your appearance again and it was obvious you weren’t properly nourished.

“you would work so much harder if i were gone. probably work yourself to death, at that. i couldn’t let that happen.” wyatt continues on and you weren’t sure if he was convincing you or himself. you give his hands a sure squeeze and a nod of your head, showing the oddsmaker that you believed him. an observant one, he is.

instead of responding verbally, you step forward and wrap your arms around wyatt again. you were cautious not to startle him, knowing how vulnerable he must be. he hesitates like before. his body tenses and his breath hitches, yet the soothing motion of your nails trailing up and down his back give him a sense of comfort and he finally relaxes and hooks his arms around your waist. progress, you thought to yourself, it was small, but there.

“i love you,” you whisper. your fingers come up to rake through his dark hair, a familiar thing wyatt grew to love. you feel his breath against your neck as he shakily exhales, and then smiles. it wasn’t a big smile, but just enough to prove his content.

“i love you too,” wyatt buries his face in your shoulder and holds on tighter. his body is warm and secure in your embrace, and it’s almost as if nothing had happened at all. almost like he was never ripped from your arms in the first place.

the capitol could never touch wyatt again now; at least from what you’re aware of. in your remainder of years, you silently vowed to keep wyatt callow more than an arms length away from danger and violence—god knows he’s had enough to supply many lifetimes.

in this moment, wyatt was safe in your arms. he was smiling and holding you so sweetly. you wondered if the life of a victor could ever truly be peaceful, and you knew the answer immediately—but you wanted to be wyatt’s sunshine that broke through the dark clouds.

you were going to protect him, the way no one had ever protected him.

a wild west wymitch au

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO (in progress)

CHAPTER THREE (in progress)

a wild west wymitch au

pairings: haymitch abernathy x wyatt callow

warnings: drinking, mention of ma and sid’s death and haymitch feeling guilty for it, haymitch feeling unloved/unlovable

w/c: 2.7k

a/n: hello… i haven’t posted in a bit i know but this fic has been biting me in the ass recently so i decided to seperate it into chapters. basically the premise is wild west au wymitch and haymitch is an outlaw kinda. i didn’t touch on more of those aspects in the chapter because i was lowkey more focused on getting it done ….. anyway, i hope you enjoy!!! (i am working on two other fics rn so yall will be fed i promise)

haymitch abernathy had never met wyatt callow. at least, not properly. sure, he had seen him in bars and passed him by on the street, but he had never actually spoken to wyatt before. maybe it was because haymitch was too busy laying low from the police and bootlegging. he had gotten in trouble with the law a few times because of it. a rascal, they called him. he never received a real punishment for it, more like a slap on the wrist and a half-assed warning. everyone here loved their alcohol, no doubt about it, which was why he never got in trouble. besides, haymitch was young and handsome, and he knew how to charm someone when needed. most of the police didn’t even realize he had pickpocketed them too.

haymitch had always been a little troublesome growing up. his ma would always have to redirect his focus to his chores because he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off. adding to that, his family wasn’t the richest growing up. haymitch made a habit of bargaining for prices too low for comfort and using his charisma for the wrong things, and that’s how he ended up in the bootlegging business. was it really wrong if his family thrived off of it? his ma told him so, but haymitch disagreed. he’d do anything for her and his little brother, sid. he wanted to give his ma a good life while she still stood and to grant sid a comfortable childhood—one he didn’t really have after his father’s death.

the fire was inevitable, though. haymitch knew it. he knew that his procrastination and how he got distracted were the reason ma and sid were dead. that’s why he moved towns. he couldn’t stay there, knowing that his family’s ghosts were just next door. knowing that the townsfolk always lowered their gaze when they saw haymitch pass by. it was like he was asking to be pitied, and he hated that. he hated feeling weak.

but that was years ago, and haymitch had convinced himself that he was over it. he found peace in this new town and more so with drinking.

now, haymitch remembers watching wyatt from across the room one night, in a tavern on the west side of town. it was like wherever he went, wyatt was trailing behind. not that haymitch minded at all. he liked having that little gambler around, even from a distance. however, his suspicion did rise each time he sighted wyatt. he never looked happy to be in a bar, which confused haymitch. it was impossible to not be pleased, especially with the presence of alcohol.

haymitch peered over the rim of his glass as he finished his drink. wyatt was at a gambling table, like usual, standing upright and scribbling things down into that notepad. haymitch could only wonder what he was writing down. was he keeping count of the bets? maybe he was keeping a record of moves in the games? haymitch had no clue, but he was interested all right.

he continued to stare at wyatt for the remainder of the night, immediately glancing away when wyatt sensed his gaze. haymitch had to admit he was being a bit creepy, but he had a good reason to! wyatt has this mysterious feel about him, and haymitch can't resist. he wished he could muster up the courage to speak to him, but wyatt looked pretty focused on that game of poker. or was it blackjack? whatever. that was the least of haymitch’s concerns.

maybe haymitch had a few too many drinks that night, because he never remembered walking up to wyatt. he sauntered over to the boy at the table with flushed cheeks and messy curls. he placed a hand on wyatt’s lower back, watching the game from beside him.

“can i get ya a drink? ” haymitch drawled lowly and tipped his hat. he turned his head to meet wyatt’s eyes, in which he realized how pretty they were. they were dark brown, which contrasted with haymitch's own light-colored eyes. haymitch hadn’t noticed he was staring again.

wyatt whipped his head up as haymitch’s hand made contact with his lower back. it seemed to startle him, because he almost dropped the pencil in his right hand. wyatt began fumbling over his words, averting his eyes from haymitch and warily eyeing the older man in front of him.

“i’m alright, thank you,” wyatt had answered curtly and regained focus on the game of cards before him, jotting down numbers and percentages. an oddsmaker, haymitch came to realize, made more sense now. no wonder wyatt looked so engaged.

haymitch’s hand slowly trailed up the oddsmaker’s back and landed on his shoulder. haymitch wasn’t clear on why, but he enjoyed the warmth of wyatt’s skin beneath his fingers. it made his body tingle delightfully and his head spin. maybe it was just the alcohol, he convinced himself.

wyatt seemed to shiver under haymitch’s touch, a soft hitch in his breath. his shoulders tensed and his posture straightened out, as if someone had splashed cold water on him. his dark eyes trailed up to meet the other boy’s, and haymitch couldn’t tell if wyatt was glaring at him or just looking. either way, haymitch just enjoyed having wyatt’s eyes on him.

“wyatt,” a sharp voice called, cutting through the tension in the air. haymitch turned his head and saw the older man eyeing the two of them carefully. embarrassment seemed to wash over wyatt, and he frantically nodded his head, stepping out of haymitch’s grasp and scribbling down more numbers.

after that night, haymitch couldn’t get wyatt out of his head. not a day passed without his mind wandering off to places he couldn’t repeat out loud. he knew it was stupid; they had just met, and haymitch was clearly tipsy. hell, he probably wouldn’t have even gone up to wyatt if it weren’t for the influence of alcohol. he had basically gotten rejected, too. even so, haymitch was incredibly glad that he talked to wyatt after months of staring and wondering.

haymitch lay awake some nights, thinking about wyatt and what he was doing at the moment. was he staring at the stars above, counting each one and pointing out constellations? was he lying awake restlessly like haymitch was? maybe he was calculating odds in a dimly lit room, his pretty eyes tracing over parchment and his fingers trembling with the grip on his pencil. haymitch pictured his dark hair being tousled as usual, his face glowing in the warm light.

haymitch then wondered what wyatt wore to sleep. he might wear an old, flimsy shirt that didn’t quite fit him perfectly. or perhaps he just wore bottoms, as haymitch did; it got quite hot in some parts of the year. maybe wyatt didn't wear anything to bed, the sheets being the only thing covering his body. haymitch had to bury his face in his pillow to seize those thoughts—and the redness on his cheeks.

it would be safe to assume that haymitch didn't return to that bar for a few weeks. he needed to unwind and most certainly get wyatt out of his head.

one person haymitch always went to when he had an issue was lenore dove. she was a very sweet girl, with an even sweeter voice. haymitch swore it was like listening to an angel when she sang. lenore dove and he had been friends for years and even had a romantic history at one point before they mutually ended it. besides, lenore dove had found herself a nice gal from the wealthier part of town. haymitch thought lenore dove's girl was quite snobbish, but as long as she was happy, he didn't care.

“so, when did ya meet him? ” lenore dove asks with the sweetest tone she could manage. she and haymitch were seated on a swing on the porch of her house. the humidity outside made a sheen of sweat accumulate on her mahogany skin and her wild curls stick up in places. her skirt hung low on her shins. there were multiple areas where she had patched tears and frays in the fabric with an array of colors, making it look like she was wearing a rainbow.

“the bar a few nights ago,” haymitch answered honestly, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. he noticed the growing annoyance in lenore dove’s voice, which signaled that he was in for a long lecture.

“and you’ve been thinking ‘bout him ever since?” she follows up with another question, crossing her leg over her other and leaning back against the swing. her tone still forced that same sweetness, but now it took on a more playful stance.

haymitch grumbled and nodded his head. he leaned forward to rest his elbows against his knees and bury his face in his hands, fingers running through his blonde curls. they were damp from the swelter and stuck to his forehead stubbornly. lenore dove chuckled and planted a hand on his back, rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his worn-out jacket.

“you’re a dear boy,” lenore dove snickered. her other hand came up to fan herself frantically. "do you even know his name? does he know yours?”

haymitch rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. he mirrored lenore dove's actions, sitting back on the swing, his legs spreading involuntarily. his fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh, seemingly in deep thought. lenore dove retracted from haymitch and examined him. his brows furrowed stubbornly, forming a crease between his eyes.

"i don't think i've ever seen you this worked up over someone." lenore dove admitted. haymitch lifted his head to meet her gaze. she wasn't completely wrong. he hadn’t recalled the last time he glanced someone’s way; not since lenore dove and the death of his family. haymitch wondered why he was like this, why he could never see himself in another relationship. he labeled himself as broken. maybe romance wasn’t cut out for him. perhaps he was too difficult to love.

“yeah, but i don’t think he was interested,” haymitch countered with another sigh leaving his lips. he turned his head to meet lenore dove’s eyes and was met with another skeptical stare. haymitch’s brows furrowed in response.

“did he say that?” she questions once again. she sure could talk up a storm in private. haymitch bit down on his bottom lip as he pondered over her inquiry.

“he said no to a drink,” he responds.

“he didn’t say no to you.” lenore dove reaches over to poke at haymitch’s chest to accentuate her point. haymitch chuckles and shakes his head, not believing what is coming out of lenore dove’s mouth right now. despite that, she did have a point.

“are you saying i should ask him if he wants me instead?” haymitch raises a brow.

lenore dove goes back to fanning herself with a wide grin. “whatever must be done.”

whatever must be done.

maybe haymitch had taken that too literally, because he found himself at that same bar the same night. admittedly, he was desperate, but could you blame him? heaven forbid a man wants some action after all this time. frankly, he thinks he deserved it too.

surely enough, wyatt was there. he and his crew sat at the same table, and a round of cards ensued shortly after. wyatt was still scribbling numbers and collecting bets like he always did. his appearance was more collected than the other times haymitch had seen him, though. maybe someone had pointed it out, and wyatt took it personally. it made haymitch frown to himself.

in hopes of not being a creep this time, haymitch tried his best not to stare down wyatt tonight. he planned to wait until the other man was alone so he could talk to him—sober as well. the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself.

and so he waited. he made small talk with other people in the establishment, having conversations about simple things like the weather and where and what they did for work. haymitch wasn’t fully immersed in the chatter. his mind was too busy putting restraints on his body, restricting him from turning his head and looking over at wyatt or using his feet to even walk over to him.

the empty seat at the bar next to haymitch creaked as someone sat down in it. haymitch turned his head curiously, running a hand through his curls. his brows shot up in surprise at the sight of wyatt before a smile plastered itself across haymitch’s face.

“still don’t want that drink?” haymitch leant closer and spoke lowly, his chin propped up against his hand as his elbow rested on the bar. wyatt looked over at haymitch with a small grin, ducking his head down and chuckling to himself.

“i don’t drink,” wyatt responded, curt and simple like the first time haymitch had interacted with him. haymitch cocked his head to the side and looked wyatt up and down.

“then why are you over here?” he asks in response.

wyatt pauses for a few moments. he bites the inside of his cheek before taking in a long breath.

“my father wanted me to bring him somethin’. i also saw you, so i wanted to say hi.” wyatt shrugged his shoulders and pressed his arms against the bar, his body facing forward while haymitch faced wyatt.

“father?” haymitch looked at wyatt in bewilderment before peering over at the gambling table. that same man sat there, a cigarette between his fingers as he laughed with a group of people. it all made sense now. haymitch glanced between wyatt and his father, finally seeing the resemblance. he felt a bit foolish for not understanding it sooner.

wyatt noticed the realisation in haymitch’s gaze, and a small laugh escaped him, but the amusement didn’t quite appear on his face.

“you’re not the only one,” wyatt says, turning his body to mirror haymitch’s. haymitch looks back over at wyatt and his gaze lingers on his appearance. wyatt’s cheeks were a tad bit flushed, maybe from haymitch finding out about his dad, or maybe because wyatt’s knee brushed against haymitch’s every time one of them moved.

wyatt moves to pin down the bartender and order a glass for his father. haymitch wants to reach out and ruffle the dark locks belonging to wyatt, adjusting them in that messy way he liked so much; however, that wouldn’t be so kind of him. haymitch reaches for the hat on his head and takes it off, placing it on the bar while maintaining his gaze on wyatt.

wyatt received the drinks shortly after, but he made no effort to move. instead, he leant his forearms against the bar and stared ahead.

“you stopped coming here for a few days. why?” wyatt asks.

haymitch’s brows rose in surprise. wyatt had noticed his absence? for someone who seemed entirely engaged in the acts of gambling—or odds-making, whatever—he was strangely observant. almost frightfully so.

“i…” haymitch found himself speechless. he couldn’t tell wyatt about the thoughts he’s been having. he’d rather let his own horse trample over him than do such a thing. “i don’t know. guess i got tired of drinkin’.”

it was a terrible lie, and wyatt was no idiot. he glanced at haymitch sideways with an unimpressed expression.

“you come to this bar basically every night."

“i know,” haymitch shrugged, itching to reach for one of the glasses in front of wyatt.

“you’re a terrible liar,” wyatt replied with a ghost of a smile.

instead of responding, haymitch gave a lazy smirk and winked at the man in front of him. wyatt’s face molded into something close to shock before he cleared his throat. grabbing the cups of alcohol, wyatt got up from his seat and gave haymitch one last nod.

haymitch watched as wyatt walked away and found himself staring again. lord, what was this man doing to him? it was as if wyatt were a siren and haymitch were the ‘unlucky’ sailor pulled into his song. haymitch chewed on his bottom lip as he observed the way wyatt’s hips swayed as he drew closer to the gambling table, as well as how he kept his head down. all it did was make haymitch more and more curious about wyatt, and haymitch abernathy was incredibly stubborn when he had his mind set on something.

warnings: none

w/c: 0.5k (very short 💔)

a/n: really small (not proofread 😣) wymitch college au fic so i can feed you guys while i work on a bigger wymitch fic <3 hope you enjoy!

“haymitch,”

wyatt huffs as haymitch flops onto the bed beside the other boy, his arms effectively blocking the computer screen in front of wyatt.

“you’ve been working for forever. it’s, like, midnight.” haymitch groans and slides up across the bed to lean against wyatt’s side and bury his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. haymitch then closes wyatt’s laptop for him and tosses it to the side where it lands at the foot of the bed. wyatt’s head falls back against the headboard in defeat and he finally allows haymitch to divert his attention from college work.

wyatt had always had a tendency to overwork himself, and not even noticing himself sometimes. he could work on assignments for hours and never let up until someone, specifically haymitch, had to drag him away from whatever device he was using. wyatt was always a hard worker, and haymitch admired that, but sometimes it got out of hand.

“i was almost done,” wyatt protests, even though he’s already reaching to take off his glasses and place them on the nightstand. he puts an arm around haymitch’s shoulder and presses his cheek against the other boy’s head.

haymitch’s body is warm and grounding against wyatt’s. wyatt could feel his own heart rate speeding up just at the close proximity, and he frantically prayed to himself that haymitch couldn’t feel or hear it.

the apartment was quiet, which was a given for this time of night. lenore dove and maysilee had probably been asleep for hours now, considering the silence. it made wyatt realize how late it truly was, and how much he had been working recently.

“you’ll finish it tomorrow, you’re super smart,” haymitch mumbles into wyatt’s sweatshirt, voice muffled by the fabric. wyatt felt a small smile twitch at the corner of his lips at the praise. he could tell haymitch was already half-asleep in his arms, and wyatt assumed that he had probably stayed up and waited for wyatt to be finished with his assignment. the thought made wyatt’s heart clench a bit, half from guilt and half from admiration.

even in his tired state, haymitch was incredibly sweet. he always was, even when he was trying to be smug and flirtatious with wyatt. the sheer kindness of haymitch had always made wyatt flush and smile like some kind of teenage girl. he hated it, but haymitch adored it.

wyatt reached for the nightstand again, flicking off the lamp sitting there and filling his room with darkness. he then adjusted his and haymitch’s position on the bed, where the both of them were laying down and facing each other.

haymitch blinked his eyes open and observed the man before him. he then brushed a stray piece of hair away from wyatt’s eyes before wrapping an arm around his torso and burying his face in wyatt’s chest.

“goodnight,” haymitch muttered as a yawn slipped from him.

“goodnight,” wyatt repeated in a hushed tone, hugging haymitch closer to his chest and letting his own eyes flutter shut.

maybe something where they get caught together and everyone finds out about their relationship

“to be loved is to be seen.” (haymitch abernathy x reader)

pairings: haymitch abernathy x donner!fem!reader

warnings: none!

synopsis: haymitch abernathy and you have been trying to keep your relationship a secret, knowing your family wouldn’t approve of you dating a boy from the seam, but it turns out that you both were unable to keep a secret.

a/n: thank you for requesting!! this idea is so adorable!!! this also may be ooc, this is my first-ish time writing for haymitch!

w/c: 1.6k

you tossed a bag of sweets into haymitch’s lap. he was sitting in the meadow, back facing you and seemingly relaxed. he hadn’t even noticed you coming up to him. the two of you frequently met in the meadow, because it was the one place where your secret wouldn’t be compromised.

haymitch jumped and whipped his head around with wide eyes, and then they softened as he caught sight of you. your hair was done in two braids that sat on top of your shoulders, just the way he liked. he smiled up at you charmingly before patting the space beside him.

“hey,” he smirked, leaning forward as you seated yourself to press a kiss to your cheek. a soft giggle escaped from your lips and your eyes shone as you looked up at him. haymitch’s curls were a tad messy, and you could only imagine he had been running his hands through them as he awaited your arrival. the thought made you smile to yourself.

“hi,” you responded simply. you moved closer to haymitch until your shoulders brushed together. even after all this time, a small jolt cascaded through your body at the feeling, as if you two had just touched for the first time.

haymitch looked down at you with a fond grin before turning his attention to the bag of sweets in his lap. he curiously took a look at it before untying the ribbon at the top and popping one into his mouth. he then offered one to you, which you had a hard time denying.

“how’s sid doing?” you asked after swallowing the candy. you turned to your side to completely face haymitch. he leaned back on one hand in response and gazed at you. he almost looked dazed in a way.

“he’s doing good. he always asks if i have candy when i get home.” you giggled in response to that. sid was probably the only person who knew about you and haymitch, with the exception of his mother. he had a hard time keeping secrets from his family. besides, they both loved you.

“well, i’ll make sure to bring some more next time; since someone can’t help themselves.” you eyed haymitch, and then the bag of candy in his lap. it was already half empty, and he had a sweet in his mouth right now.

haymitch followed your gaze and then looked back up at you. he rolled his eyes, yet a fond smile spread across his face. the sight made a swarm of butterflies erupt in your stomach.

days like these were your favorite. you loved doing absolutely nothing with haymitch, besides talking and listening to the birds sing their songs above. it was so peaceful, and you wouldn’t mind living like this for the rest of your life.

unfortunately, time does fly when you’re having fun.

evening sneaked upon you both quicker than you had anticipated. one moment you were admiring how the late afternoon sun illuminated haymitch’s features and painted him in a heavenly way, and then the next you were awestruck at how the orange tints of the sunset turned his curls into a warmer shade and danced on his handsome face. you almost forgot that you had to go home.

like always, haymitch walked you back to the merchant section of district twelve. you disliked how eager he was about it, because you knew he could get scolded for wandering so far from home. however, very much like him, he did not give a damn.

haymitch helped you through the fence that separated the wilderness from the rest of the district, making sure you didn’t cut or injure yourself on the opening. the both of you then walked through the streets, heading towards the part of town where your house was located.

you looked down at where your hand brushed against haymitch’s. you yearned to reach out and intertwine his fingers with yours, to feel the warmth of his hand seep into your skin. you knew you couldn’t, though. not with your whole ‘secret relationship’. sometimes, you wished you were more like haymitch. he was so daring and didn’t care about consequences half the time. a rascal, if you must. that was something you couldn’t afford to be.

you let out an audible sigh as you finally reached the opening of the merchant section. you turned to face haymitch before an idea popped into your head. a sly smile appeared on your face, and haymitch immediately recognized it.

you pulled haymitch into an alleyway between buildings, where no one could see you unless they got close. haymitch stared down at you with a surprised yet teasing raise of his brows.

“it’s not like i’m disappearing forever, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “you’ll see me tomorrow.” despite his words, haymitch felt the exact way you did. he didn’t want to leave you already. he craved your presence every waking moment.

you laughed in response before tugging on the front of haymitch’s shirt and pulling him down into a kiss. the movement of your lips was slow, like you were savoring the moment. haymitch returned the kiss almost immediately, one hand cupping your cheek while the other took purchase on your hip. his thumb rubbed into the fabric of your dress, smooth and softer than any material he had ever felt before. your own hands moved to cradle the boy’s jaw, pulling him closer and closer until no space was left between you two.

however, your moment was not savored like the way you would’ve liked it to been, because a voice calling out your name made you part from haymitch swiftly.

you whipped your head around and you were met with the sight of maysilee standing at the opening of the alleyway. she looked at you, bewilderment spread across her perfect face before she took notice of haymitch standing there with his hands still on your waist. her surprised expression deepened and a shocked scoff escaped her.

“haymitch?!” she exclaimed as her arms crossed over her chest. haymitch immediately stepped as far away from you as the alleyway would permit and cleared his throat, on the brink of mortification. on the other hand, you were about there already.

“is that where you’ve been sneaking off to?” maysilee turned her attention back to you, and you found yourself wishing you’d just sink into the pavement to avoid this.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, haymitch,” you flashed him one last smile before walking away toward maysilee. you didn’t bother responding to her solely because you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your boyfriend. maysilee grabbed your wrist and hastily turned around with you, but not before shooting haymitch a glare over her shoulder. you could hear him groan in response before your sister dragged you back home.

“i really don’t care that you have a boyfriend, or whatever, but haymitch? out of any boy you could have?” maysilee chided, and you forced yourself not to roll your eyes. like before, you decided to keep quiet and let her guide you to your house.

for the next few days, you were genuinely considering burying yourself underground and never showing your face again. maysilee had ran her mouth at school, and somehow everyone knew about you and haymitch. there were mixed reactions; some were jealous and some complimented the both of you together. all you did was force a smile at them and nod. most importantly, you pushed down the urge to slap maysilee across her face.

what was done was done though, and you could not be the one to change that. despite your bitterness, and the fact that you had every right to, you refrained from acting petty towards maysilee. instead, you found comfort in your boyfriend.

“i just can’t believe she did that,” you scoffed, head resting against haymitch’s chest as you laid between his legs. you both were located in the meadow again, the afternoon sun warming your skin and the breeze cooling it down. haymitch was fumbling with a singular braid in your hair, one that merrilee had insisted you wear to match with her and maysilee. he ran his fingers down it, feeling the texture as he listened to you rant.

“she’s the meanest girl in town for a reason.” haymitch muttered with a low chuckle, brushing a stray piece of hair from your cheek. you moved your head to look up and him and you smiled softly. you knew maysilee could be mean, and you were no stranger to her ways, but she was your sister; someone you’d have a relationship with for your entire life. you couldn’t stay mad at her forever.

“hey, at least i can hold your hand in public now.” haymitch added, giving you that smirk that made a giggle bubble in your throat. you were pleased with how well he was taking it. you were sure he had strong feelings towards maysilee’s actions, but he never acted upon them. maybe he was scared of her.

you were aware of how haymitch felt about the whole ‘secret relationship’ arrangement, and how it hurt him as much as it hurt you sometimes. you knew he wanted to kiss your cheek in public without people commenting on how odd it was for a merchant girl to be with a seam boy. however, you also knew he was sometimes content with the secrecy. no one nagged him about how he charmed a merchant girl, or how he didn’t deserve you — because trust me, he knew.

but even with maysilee’s entitlement, you found yourself relieved. you could endure your parents’ scolding and the looks people gave you on the street, as long as it meant that after the day, you’d meet haymitch in the meadow.