Hunger Games Training Outfits Novels & Stories

I winked and stepped off the elevator, shaking my hips with emphasis earning a cheeky growl from my mate. I threw on a pair of black yoga pants, a neon pink sports bra and my matching black and neon pink running shoes, after tying my hair into a tight pony tail I ran down stairs. Grabbing a fruity granola bar from the snack basket on my way out of the kitchen to the back yard where pack trainings were held. I quickly spotted Devin and Hunter standing beside his head trainer; Julian and the Twins, Connor and Bradley. As I approached them the twins turned towards me and smirked, “Well damn, training just got ten times better.” I smirked back as my pack cheered for me and the Full Moon pack loo

Then, I stepped out of the training pants. The arena went silent. Underneath the tracksuit, I wasn't wearing standard robes or loose linens. I was dressed like a professional MMA fighter - a crisp white crop singlet that showed the lean, hard lines of my midriff and short purple tights that allowed for total, unrestricted movement. The outfit highlighted every cord of muscle in my legs and the predatory set of my shoulders. I looked less like a High Lady and more like a weapon designed for a cage match. “What is she wearing?” a senior hissed, his eyes wide.

I have no idea what to expect from the classes because I’m used to things like English, Maths and Housekeeping. “Training, training.” I mutter the word over and over again as I walk back to the cupboard and start pushing clothes aside. When my father let me watch training sessions, the females always wore leggings and a sports bra. I don’t think I have the confidence to walk around with my massive breasts thrust up under my chin while also being squashed against my chest bone. I end up grabbing a pair of soft grey leggings with a lime green stripe up them, a matching sports bra and an oversized white cotton t-shirt. Once I’m dressed with my hair wrapped in a tight bun, I decide I can’t stall

The system assigns different ranks according to how well one fights. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tension sitting in my shoulders. After dressing up in my training outfit, a black gym set I found in my wardrobe, I step out of the pack mansion, the whole place was buzzing with excitement and nervousness… people talking over each other and pacing the grounds. Some family members who had people in the warrior test were already preparing to watch.

It is how she looks. The training clothes are dark, simple cut, nothing flashy. Exactly what a fighter would wear. And yet every movement shows that her body is no longer what it was. The pants sit at her hips, they do not slide, they do not hang loose. The top follows her shoulders, her arms, her waist. It does not squeeze. It does not hide too much. It shows exactly what training requires. Strong. Shaped. Sexy. That is the first thought that crosses my mind, and I do not like it.

Nicholas listened quietly as I explained the things she couldn’t eat, the types of materials she couldn’t have around, and the medicines that gave her reactions. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, when I was done. Over his shoulder, standing in the doorway of her room, Lena looked at me, a cold gleam in her eyes. I shivered. Over the next few days, I went through intense training to prepare for the game. Both Elva and I were provided with professional stylists to assist in every detail, from our hair to our gowns to the color of our nail polish. Trainers helped me correct the dip of my curtsey, and the straightness of my posture. I had to practice walking with a book on my head, to learn fluid

I'd rather spend time outside the palace and be bullied than remember last night's incident. After washing my face and changing clothes, I went to the training center. This time I wore a pair of tight training pants. Its fabric was light and stretchy. For the top, I wore some kind of cool closed tank top. It was like a swimsuit only without the sleeves. Toby bought me those because he felt sorry for me wearing inappropriate training clothes. I often wore loose trousers made of cloth. It made it hard for me to move like the other trainees. Toby believed I would be the greatest in my new training outfit.

She stated happily. “Ok, let's see what you've got. Go change into training gear, you'll find a few outfits in your closet, then meet us outside of the office when you’re ready.” He told her. “She opened the closet door and found the section where all of the training outfits are, choosing a black sports bra with thick forest green stripes on the sides with a zipper in the front, I then chose black spandex with the same thick forest green stripes in between the stripes were a black crisscross pattern that show the side of my legs between the holes. I put on the pants and sports bra, then picked out a pair of black high-tops. I left My hair in the French braid and made my way down the stairs

I imagined myself donning these stylish outfits while training, feeling a surge of confidence course through my veins. My gaze fell upon a particularly alluring set of training clothes. The fabric boasted a combination of comfort and sensuality, accentuating the curves of my body in all the right places. The thought of my handsome bodyguard, Knight, catching a glimpse of me in these sexy ensembles filled me with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I blushed at the idea, envisioning his gaze lingering on my transformed figure.

The first light of dawn seeped through the cracks in the wooden shutters as Emma dragged herself toward the trunk at the foot of her bed. She lifted the lid slowly, pulling out the clothes she had been given—dark trousers, a long-sleeved tunic, and thick boots meant for training. She hesitated, running her fingers over the rough fabric. It felt foreign. Heavy. Women in the pack didn’t wear things like this. Even the ones who trained wore looser, more delicate versions of the warriors’ uniforms. But she wasn’t just another pack woman anymore. She wasn’t even sure what she was. Swallowing down her unease, Emma pulled off her nightdress and slipped into the training clothes. The tunic hung loos