Hunger Games Training Outfits Novels & Stories

"Are you going to keep making yourself less than who you are? I will not let you. No one gets it right the first or the second or the third or even the fiftieth time. What matters is passion, consistency and self confidence. You need to train to be able to control your shape shifting abilities and also train your mind to avoid being mentally manipulated." "But everyone is experienced already." "Which is why you'd be joining the junior team. I want you to get ready for this evening's training." "I don't have a costume. I've seen them train." "I will make sure two exact combat clothing are provided for you. Athena, once she settles all tomorrow will have your time because I'll talk to her, oka

I burrow back down into my blankets but am barely able to doze off again before my alarm goes off for training. I force myself out of bed and shower before putting on a tank top and black capri leggings. Micah borrows some of my dad’s clothes because he refuses to leave me long enough to go to the pack house to change. “Why do you shower before training?” He asks curiously as he slips a shirt over his head and I pretend not to check out his chest. “Because it helps wake me up.” I answer, throwing my hair up into a ponytail. He watches the movement before his eyes trail the rest of my body, his fists clenching and eyes darkening.

I saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his breathing changed just a little. He wanted me. Badly. The thought sent a rush of heat straight between my legs. "Get dressed. You have ten minutes." I tried to sit up, but my muscles screamed in protest. Hunter watched me struggle for exactly three seconds before he stood and walked to my dresser. "Which drawer?" "What?" "Training clothes. Which drawer, Inka." Oh. He was going to dress me. "Second one," I whispered, my voice already breathy. He pulled out black leggings and a sports bra, tossing them onto the bed. Then he came back, holding the sports bra open.

It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as Ghost nipping on my skin. “Let’s get you some clothes for training exercises.” Tyree looks satisfied with the condition of the harness. While I put on a sports bra and shorts, Bronx gets things prepared in the ring. Hana and I go through the motions of standard combos and work our way up like we always have. Even with everything going on and the uncertainty of the future, there is a sense of calm in the training pavilion that makes it easy to focus.

The trace of a long night—and an even longer morning. In her suite, the room was dark and cool. Morning light filtered in through the cracks of the drawn curtains. Her suitcase waited by the wall, half-open. Every item folded with military precision—just the way she always did. Because when there's a war inside, there must at least be order outside. She pulled out a new outfit. Grey-black training set, long-sleeved top with a reflective strip down the center—not for fashion, but so she could track body alignment in motion. Every piece was functional. Like her. Designed for use.

A natural flush colored her cheeks and her porcelain skin practically glowed. She was wearing a worn-out pair of sweatpants and an old sweatshirt I was fairly certain had once belonged to her brother. But even the baggy attire couldn’t hide her body from me. Seth had told me she’d started training with the pack warriors and the effects were evident. She’d always been thin, the years of training had made her lean but shapely. I could tell by the way the loose material clung to her that her thighs were toned and her ass was rounded and firm. I couldn’t wait to see her with much fewer clothes on.

The warrior inquired. "Yes, can you tell me where your Alpha is?" She asked as she couldn't think of anything else. "His Highness is at the training grounds, Luna." He responded, and she entered the room after a brief thank you. She sat on the bed, her mind racing with the prospect of training. She hadn't trained or done any kind of practice or exercise in a long time. She was aware that a war was approaching and she needed to be in top physical condition. It was a great time to start sweating again. She entered the closet and, after rummaging through the small selection of clothes, discovered a pair of black yoga pants and a sports bra. The yoga pant ended just above her belly button, and t

“All right, get ready.” I grab my outfit, a somewhat Flashdance inspired number—the movie I was addicted to when I was a kid. It's all red, with a small top that barely covers my tits and a slit halfway down, splitting open and showing more of my stomach; a pair of panties, exposing the curve of my ass; and one red stocking up to my right knee. I tore a number of holes in the stocking, giving it a beaten-up look. I thought it would convey all the energy and work daddy and I have put into our training.

She was already dressed for the training, wearing dark, fitted trousers, sturdy boots laced tightly, and a sleeveless top that left her arms free. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and she turned and crossed to the closet, disappearing inside. When she returned, she carried a bundle of clothes. "It's your training gear," she explained, placing it on the bed. "There are several sets. You can order more if you want."

she snapped. “What the hell is she wearing?” Ryker asked. “Looks the sparing gear the young ones use when they start training.” Dad said rubbing his head. “I’m ready,” she said standing with head gear, mouth guard, knee and elbow pads. “Uh, Alpha Drake, is this sparing or is it a fight?” Dad asked. “Heather, why are you wearing all this TRAINING gear?” Alpha Drake asked. She scoffed, “duh! I don’t want to get hit in the face.” she huffed.