Multifandom One-shots

136. The Thin Line of Humanity - Peeta x reader (The Hunger Games)

The forest was eerily quiet—the kind of silence that made every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig feel like a thunderclap. Peeta crouched low behind a thick trunk, his heart pounding in his chest. The Games had a way of making even the most mundane sounds a potential threat. Sweat trickled down his brow, mingling with the dirt on his face as he strained to catch any hint of movement in the oppressive stillness.

He had been on edge for hours, feeling eyes on him but never seeing the source. The other tributes were growing more desperate and dangerous. The dappled sunlight cast deceptive shadows on the forest floor, making it the perfect setting for an ambush.

Peeta's fingers tightened around the handle of his knife. He hated this—the constant fear, the moral compromises. He had resolved to survive without losing his humanity, but each passing moment in the arena tested that resolve.

A sudden crack shattered the stillness, jolting Peeta into a state of heightened alertness. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he whirled around, catching only a fleeting shadow darting through the underbrush. His pulse hammered in his ears—the stalker was closing in.

In a blur of motion, a figure charged at him. Peeta barely had time to raise his knife before the attacker was upon him. Panic surged through him as he braced for impact. But just as the tribute lunged, there was a sharp twang, and an arrow struck the attacker in the back.

The tribute's eyes widened in shock and pain before they collapsed onto Peeta, knocking him to the ground. Blood seeped from the tribute's mouth, splattering across Peeta's face. The warm, sticky sensation felt like a visceral reminder of the violence that enveloped him. Peeta's breath came in ragged bursts, his hands trembling as he shoved the lifeless body off him. The blood smeared on his face felt like a cold, unwelcome touch.

Peeta looked up, searching for his savior, his mind racing with the fear that they might turn their weapon on him next. From the shadows, a figure emerged, bow still poised and ready. Peeta's heart sank as he recognized Y/N, another tribute. For a moment, relief mingled with new tension. He couldn't be sure if they were truly an ally or just another threat waiting for the right moment.

"You alright?" Y/N's voice was steady, but their eyes darted around, scanning for any other threats.

Peeta nodded, still catching his breath. "Yeah. Thanks. You saved my life."

Y/N lowered their bow slightly but didn't let go of it entirely. The tension between them was palpable, and the air thick with the knowledge that trust was a luxury neither could afford. "Don't mention it," they replied, their tone cautious.

The forest around them seemed to exhale, the oppressive silence giving way to the hushed sounds of the natural world. Peeta pushed himself up, trying to steady his racing heart. His eyes flicked to Y/N, who still held their bow with an alertness that spoke of constant vigilance.

"Why help me?" Peeta asked, brushing dirt and leaves off his clothes. He had to know where they stood, especially with their lives hanging in the balance.

Y/N's gaze stayed sharp, their lips curving into a brief, tight smile that didn't reach their eyes. "Let's just say I'm not ready to become the monster they want us to be."

Peeta nodded, his heart still pounding but beginning to steady. He could see the sincerity in Y/N's eyes, even if their words were cautious. "I get it. The Capitol does a good job of turning us against each other. But it doesn't have to be that way."

"It doesn't." Y/N's eyes flicked towards the dense forest surrounding them, as if expecting another ambush at any moment. Their expression remained guarded, but there was a small, almost imperceptible shift in their demeanor—a sign of understanding, perhaps. They kept their bow drawn, but their stance relaxed a fraction, allowing a bit of the tension to drain from their posture.