Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, and torture... so far. Now adding: depression, cheating, heartbreak, underage, implied prostitution, suicidal thoughts, someone having acid thrown on them, smut, implied rape/non-con. I'll add more as the story wears on, just in case.

Disclaimer: Credit goes to HannahSongla for the story idea. Please go check out her Hayniss story similar to this - Sweetheart. Credit goes to Suzanne Collins for the verse and the characters. I don't really own anything but the text of these one-shots. And no, that doesn't mean the song lyrics or the playlist. Enjoy c:

AN: Shoutout to theRadBrad on YouTube for helping me find this song. You should go watch his gameplays - he's the reason I'm able to complete video games without breaking something. If you love video games and either a) need help beating a level or b) are afraid to waste your money buying a game you may not like, go check him out!

AON: I'm going to forewarn you, because I'm 50% sure that you didn't read the warning again. This is smut. But, it doesn't feature going all the way (mostly because it was four in the morning when I started writing this but I was damn set on finishing it). So, it's just oral and a bit of (well I couldn't find a technical term for it) finger-banging. I won't do Hayniss going all the way for another dozen or so chapters - mostly because I want to practice writing smut before I actually put it here.

Song: Persia by Until The Ribbon Breaks

Persia

We're not really done, I'm just gentleman
Let's go shopping for a future, I'll pick you one
Those people talking, just puppets on a rope
I've cleaned my conscious no need for soap

Their first time is rough and angry - but really, could you expect it to be anything else? He was ice and she was fire and if they got too close they'd send the world into a hot steam that could only be penetrating by unfeeling words in the night and the sound of her tears against his skin. She comes to him the night before the Games - Oh, how people go it confused. The mentor goes to his tribute, desperate for a quick release before she met her end. The tabloids twisted the events of that night into something they thought made sense - her eyes glistening the shame and her olive skin reflecting the moonlight and the stars. He'd sat up in bed, confusion written all over his face and not enough alcohol for him to be asleep yet. It was way too early in the morning for anyone besides him to be awake, but way too late in the night for her to be awake. Not to mention in his bedroom - dripping wet and wrapped in nothing but a towel. Was it wrong to think she was beautiful? For him, yes.

"I don't want to die a virgin," she says, her voice cracking on the end a bit. It was said as a statement, but there's something nesting in her declaration that makes it sound like a question. Was it the fear? Or maybe it's just him rationalizing in his head that a sixteen-year-old-girl would have enough confidence and courage in herself to seek him of all people.

He smirks, his eyes wandering to the back of his head for a moment. Why did it seem like whenever someone wanted something from him, it ended in booze, drugs, sex or money? Maybe it's because that's all he ever had to offer. "Sounds like a personal problem sweetheart," he sneers, aiming for his words to cut. He was a Victor - he knew how to make something hurt with nothing but a mere glance and a few sourly placed words. "Go to the boy - you two are the same age. No one will blame two horny kids about to face their deaths for getting freaky before the arena. It's happened before." Like with him and Maysilee. And him and every other male or female tribute who didn't want to go in that arena with their virginity still wrapped around their waists. Especially since District 2 had a history of rape and pillage during the Games.

"No. I want someone with... experience?" Again with the uncertainty in her voice. He isn't sure if this kid wants use him as an emotional punching bag or a sexual one. Either way, he's only a stress reliever for people with enough money to buy his services for the night - not some poor girl who didn't have a devil's clue on how things really worked if she won.

"Go away, come back when you're eighteen," he chuckles darkly, because he doesn't want to deal with this sort of shit. She'd have to win for that to happen - and then survive two years of inevitable prostitution. By then, coming back to him would be just as pointless as coming to him now would be. He leans over to turn off the light, but then he hears the sound of fabric against carpet and lightning fast, his back is pinned to the bed with her on top of him, her wet hair dripping onto his bare chest and face. He wants to curse her, but he's a bit distracted. She is wearing nothing under her towel - just as he'd expected. He licks his lips and tries to control the excitement growing in his pants - damn this girl for that.

"Katniss," he remembers suddenly, her name falling from his lips like a plea. Why is that he remembered the important things much too late? "You don't want this, sweetheart. Trust me."

"My god, I know you're attracted to me," she huffs in frustration, moving so that her bottom rested against his groin and she hovers over him with a pout that could move mountains. Her arms cross over chests - her cleavage is doing nothing to protect it's modesty, but he won't tell her that - and for some reason, she looks oddly adorable. If it weren't for the highly sexual position that they were, he would have had to resist the urge to squish her cheeks. Now he's resisting the urge to fuck her senseless on his booze-stained sheets. "So what're you waiting for? Just... get it over with already."

He goes to open his mouth but she places her hands on his chest and bounces - no, she bounces and he isn't even fucking around - and her breasts bounce along with her. He watches with something akin to enthrallment as a droplet of water falls from her neck and down into the canyon of her breasts. Damn this girl, damn, damn, damn because now he actually wants her? What the fuck is wrong with him? She's a fucking child.

"No," he insists, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "You're sixteen. I'm forty-one. You're still a baby, Katniss. A little girl. Do you realize how fucked up this is?"

"It's fucked up that I'm going to go kill other children too, but no one's attempting to stop that," she'd replies coolly. "As for being a little girl, I shed that title when I became the head of household and started putting food on the table for my family. I haven't been a 'baby' since I was ten. So come on, Haymitch. Just do it."

"You're an awful flirt," he says, before yielding and flipping so that he's pinning her to the bed. He stares at her for a moment - at her wet dark hair splayed across his pillow and her scared yet explosive grey eyes, and at the small scrapes and scars that litter her arms and legs. She's fucking beautiful and it's not okay for him to think that. "I mean, if you weren't fucking naked and sitting on my goddamned lap, I would not be doing this. What the fuck?" he groans - mostly to himself -, before dropping his lips to the hollow over her neck and peppering kisses up and down her throat. She'd shuddered, because it was a wonder - how good his mouth felt on only her neck. Imagine the wonders it would cause in place where she'd never even ventured.

"Oh, I know anyone else on this train would kill for a moment like this," she hisses back, giving as good as she gets by tangling her fingers into his hair. He chuckles, moving a hand up to palm at her breast. His hand teases the soft flesh - flicking and pulling at her nipples. It elicits a hiss of both pain and pleasure that comes from somewhere between her teeth.

His lips find hers, and she expects the kisses she'd seen traded between Gale and his long list of lovers. Kisses like small pecks or chaste lip brushes. But she expects nothing like this. This is much more heated and passionate, a kiss that only two lovers would share. It's intoxicating - his tongue probes at her lower lip and she opens both her lips part with an inaudible gasp. Then suddenly his tongue is exploring everywhere in her mouth, and it takes her a long moment to get over her shock and react. She forces her mouth to move against his, her tongue darting out to meet his and push back - she's not weak, and she's refusing to be seen as so.

Unfortunately, Katniss pulls away first. She's gulping breaths of air and staring at him like he had just told her all the secrets of the world. How could something with a dirty old drunkard feel so... stimulating. She doesn't know what's head, but if whatever above is as electrifying as this, she doesn't want it to stop. And he doesn't stop, nibbling on her bottom lip and peeking up at her with knife-edge eyes. Haymitch worries the soft flesh between his teeth, before pulling away sharply and dropping his mouth to meet one of her breasts.

A loud gasp escapes her now swollen and bruised lips as the feeling of his warm mouth over her nipples sent electric shock through her body. Her spine tingles with sensation at the feeling of him pulling one of her hardened nipples between his teeth gently - not hard enough to hurt her, but rough enough to bruise and swell them.

"Haymitch," she sighs, her legs wrapping around his lower back in blindness, pulling him against her. Katniss can feel the thick bulge poking out of her pajama pants and she swallows past her desire. That would come soon, she promises herself. Live for the now. "More."

"So eager, sweetheart," he says, his voice rustic and heavy with need. While his mouth works on teasing her breasts, his hands slide over her stomach and down to her pelvic area - all while he pushes himself from in between her legs and readjusts to the side of them. Anticipation knots in and sits beside the lust in her stomach. She knows what's coming - the blasé sex education classes had spoken of it a million and one times.

His skilled fingers dance over her pelvic bone, grazing over the soft flesh between her thighs before fluttering back to splay against her stomach. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as he parts her legs further apart. Teasingly, one of his fingers run up her entrance and a shiver crawls it's way down her spine. Haymitch presses gently with his finger and pushes past her entrance, down to the soft pink folds below. Katniss cries out, pushing her hips against his hand in a plea for more friction. Haymitch obeys, plunging one finger inside of her and curling it in, causing her to moan his name and a victorious smirk to dance across his lips.

"How?" she breathes, when her legs have stopped quivering from the sudden exhilaration. He removes his lips from her breast - giving a final lick that has her shaking again - and presses a small kiss to the corner of her mouth before raising an eyebrow - as if asking her to continue..

She doesn't know how she's supposed to speak while his finger is still working wonders on her that would make a blind man be able to see again.

"How... how the hell do you know what to do so smoothly?" she asks, her voice accompanied with a tremor. Katniss damns her inability to control her emotions in the best of times.

"It's because I listen," he replies, kissing the spot just under her ear. The kiss sends another shiver down her spine and she wonders just when the hell did ears becomes so sexy? Maybe they were never sexy, and maybe it's just him. But that's a dangerous thought - a thought that is pushed to the back of her mind.

"I didn't say anything," she insists, and his hand pauses it's work.

"You didn't have to. Your body spoke for you. You pushed yourself against my hand and I knew what you wanted. It's about body language, sweetheart. Reading your partner and finding what they want. Like your hand is fisting at the carpet, so I know that if I do this," he flicks his wrist and a finger hits a spot inside of her that has her eyes rolling back in hear head. A scream comes from her throat, a scream he uses his mouth to swallow. He pulls away when she's stopped writhing. "you'll scream. It's easy sweetheart."

Katniss is about to tell him to go to hell when another finger plunges inside of her and hits that spot, and suddenly she's quivering, and shaking, and it feels like a thousand fireworks are dancing across her body. His eyes found her face - her eyes scrunched closed, her mouth open in a silent plea, a look of serenity that he'd never seen on her before - and he almost sighs in contentment. She was beautiful and he was actually feeling happy that she'd come to him instead of Peeta?

He would worry about the dangers of that thought later.

Right now his hand isn't enough for her. Right now, he needs to light dynamite behind her eyelids and make her see into another dimension. Right now, his worries mainly consist of Katniss and pleasure. His mouth finds hers and he kisses her again - gentler this time, something that he should not do -, before drawing his lips down the side of her neck and down to her collar bone. He trails a path of kisses over and between her breasts, nibbles at her ribs and continues the path down over her well-toned and flat stomach. Haymitch kisses each of her hip bones before tossing her legs around his shoulders and giving a tentative kiss on the inside of each of her thighs.

"No!" she yelps, bolting up and attempting to scramble away. He startles a moment - "No, Haymitch! Please, god, don't do this!" - before he chuckles and stares at her with arrogance laced through his eyes the color of slate. Katniss wasn't Maysilee - Katniss actually wanted this. And he wasn't sixteen and driven mad by an arena - he was forty-two and he knew damn well what he was doing with this girl.

"What good is sex without a bit of foreplay?" he asks, caressing her outer thigh with his hand - a clever attempt to soothe and coerce her. Katniss' cheeks burn a fiery red and he smirks at her prudishness - poor girl didn't know the perks have someone go down on her. How cute.

"You don't have to," she says, that fire long gone at the idea. Before him is a sheepish girl who didn't have a first clue about sex, or life, or how anything worked. Before him was not a girl that had fed and protected her family for years on end - but a girl with pink cheeks and pink pigtails in her hair.

"I want to, sweetheart," he coos, caressing her cheek gently.

"I... what about you?" Katniss asks, realizing how much attention had been on her. Haymitch shakes his head, dark bangs falling into his eyes and hiding them from her. She relaxes a bit, but doesn't ease down - instead, continuing to stare at him in skepticism.

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart. We'll get to that eventually. It's about you, right now. You asked for this, sit back and enjoy it." His hand finds her stomach and he presses down, allowing her to relax back onto the sheets of his bed. Katniss' hands bunch into the sheets as she prepares herself for whatever is coming.

Haymitch's stubble scratches at her entrance as he takes a bold lick into her folds. Katniss can't help it - her hands tangle into his hair and push - begging him for more. Haymitch is only happy to comply, digging his tongue deeper into her sweet mound and lapping up her juices like a thirsty dog. God, she tastes so good. His name slips from her lips as suckles into her folds. It's euphoria between the two of them - Katniss' body is prickling with a sensation she'd never experienced before - something she's almost sure she'd never experience again. Haymitch's mouth is working wonders he'd practiced on a hundred different women, but somehow this is different and new - somehow it's like his first time all over again.

He curves his tongue up, attempting to hit that spot he'd been hitting with his fingers. It's a bit far-fetches, but it really only takes a little adjustment until he's poking that spot perfectly. Above him, Katniss places the edge of his pillows in her mouth to hide the loud scream that burns it's way through her throat. Something sparked with an impatient tick blooms in her lower belly at his work.

"Haymitch," she whines, tugging at his hair as she realizes what this feeling is. Haymitch doesn't stop though - he can already taste her pre-cum on his tongue, there's no way in hell he quits at this point. "Haymitch."

She tries to pull him away, to spare him, but another swift suckle sends electricity sizzling through her body. It burns like whiskey down a cold throat - heating up her entire body. Firecrackers burst on her skin, exploding and illuminating her body with iridescent sparkles. Haymitch lights her on fire, sending this strange tingling sensation up and down her spine, making her feel alive like the city lights outside his bedroom window. Katniss' entire body crackles, her pupils dilate until her irises are no longer visible, and Haymitch's name continues to skitter and tumble from her throat like a prayer to some sort of God. Light fills her entire being - for a moment, she's reaching towards the moon and falling upon the stars that sting and yet feel so fucking good.

It must be a crime to be in so much bliss.

When she comes down from her high, tears are streaming down her cheeks and Haymitch's hand is covering her mouth. She glances at him - the effects of her first orgasm fading but never quite leaving. They simply dance into the background to hide for a few moments.

"Shh, sweetheart. Be quiet, before you wake the entire damned center. Just be quiet - I got ya," he drawls, brushing back her hair and holding her quivering body. "Oh c'mon, it ain't that good."

"Haymitch," she whispers, her tongue unable to form anymore words. He nods, holding her close and pressing his lips against her forehead.

"I know sweetheart. I know."

"Y-you," she stutters, reaching for the zipper of his pajamas. His member is rock hard through his bottoms and his pajamas splotched with dark spots - pre-cum? "W-what a-about y-you?" Her hands are shaking, so he takes them in his own and kisses the knuckles.

"Another time, sweetheart. Go to sleep." Another time, she almost snorts. Another time would imply her surviving the arena, and really, what were the odds of that? But she doesn't want to ruin the moment with bitterness - not to mention she doesn't want to think about tomorrow because thinking in the now has gotten her everything so far. So she slumps back into the sheets and allows him to tuck her into covers of his bed - ignoring the soft kiss pressed against her temple or the way his arm drapes across her waist in something way too intimate for just a quick 'don't-die-without-being-fucked' screw. Katniss curls into a ball, with her knees to her chest, and he kisses her shoulder soothingly, allowing her body to relax against his and melt into deep sleep.

Katniss falls asleep too quickly and too hard to dream, but she wishes she would have dreamt of the taste of whiskey on her lips, luminous olive skin that glistens with stars and all-too-real stubble against her inner thighs.

Those olive eyes are good enough to pick in winter time
So did I say too much, if that's my crime
I will zip, shut my mouth, won't forget about you
Just one more whisper, to see me through