Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide 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, self-harm. 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: A little post-Mockingjay banter & fluff for ya nerve! Yes, I'm back. Hi. Hello. Hola. Salutations. Greetings. And all that jazz.

Song: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck
I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet
And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now
Kiss me like you wanna be loved

Katniss inhales the familiar scent of pine deeply and bundles herself tighter against the sharp tang of cold air. Outside, in the chill of an October morning, Haymitch has set to the task of chopping fireplace wood that he'd been putting off since August. Despite the cold, beads of sweat trickle down his forehead and through the back of his thin shirt. His muscles flex and work with the weight of the axe, each swing sending more heat to the depths of Katniss' stomach.

Damn, she loved herself a good, hard-working man.

"You know, I could get used to this sight," she calls to the very man working hard in the backyard. Haymitch stops mid-swing, the axe coming to rest near his thick winter boots and a sly smirk dancing on his features.

"I could get used to that sight," he replies, nodding towards her. She's still in her pajamas - an old black t-shirt of his and a pair of raggedy flannel pants. Her hair has been pulled into a messy ponytail, and she'd stolen one of his leather jackets on the way outside. She probably looked a damned mess.

Haymitch always liked her best when she'd just woken up, not yet so put together and sharp-tongued. Just the right amount of messy snark.

Katniss dips her head to hide her smile, something she did rarely now that all was said and done and they'd been exiled to the deep dark pits of District Twelve.

"Yeah, well, extra treats for extra wood, love," she says. Haymitch raises his eyebrows and wiggles them seductively, grinning at her.

"I always knew you loved my wood."

"Oh shut up," Katniss laughs - another rare thing that came in the morning - turning back and letting the screen door slam behind her. Knowing he'll be hungry when he comes in, she busies herself with making breakfast - nothing too hearty, for the man could pack it down but he always got drowsy after a good meal - and getting the house warmed up for him.

By the time Haymitch comes back in - carrying six bundles of wood and stacking them near the fireplace - bacon, pancakes and hot coffee await him. He's more than happy to stow away the axe in the cellar and kick off his winter boots, settling into the dining table to eat.

"You should put that firewood to good use instead of burning up all this heat," he comments when she's returned from changing into more winter appropriate clothing. She notices that he's turned off the heater, and rubs her hands on her arms. The house hasn't quite gotten cold again, but she can feel the gentle nip when she walks pasts windows or the door.

"Well, I didn't have any firewood to put to use before, now did I?" Katniss retorts easily. "I told you, if you chop the wood in the summer, you wouldn't have to freeze your ass off out there."

"If I chop it in the summer, it won't have that fresh wood smell. It'll be stale, and the house'll smell stale," Haymitch says around a mouthful of flapjacks. Katniss rolls her eyes, goes to toss some wood into the fireplace.

"I'd rather the house smell stale than you risking catching your death," she mutters. Haymitch shakes his head and grins at her.

"Ah, just start the fire, Kat. It's cold."

"If you were so cold, why did you turn the damn heater off?"

"Perfectly good firewood there. There's no need on earth to run gas like that."

"You know money ain't an issue, Haymitch." With the penance given to both of them after the war, and the little kinda-sorta trade she still had going down at the Hob, there was a chance their great-grandchildren would be sitting pretty for the rest of their lives.

"I know, sweetheart, but let me worry, alright?"

Katniss drops her hands from her hips and rolls her eyes again. Haymitch was always a worrier - no matter how long they'd known each other, how much she'd proven she could take damn good care of herself, how many times she'd been the one to save his ass, he still worried after her.

Didn't make sense in Katniss' eyes, but she knew it put him at ease to be mindful of every possible outcome. No matter how many years he'd been out of the life - he would always account for everything that could possibly go wrong before he could consider anything going in his favor.

"I'm not a child, Haymitch. I'm not sixteen anymore. You don't have to-"

"Yeah, I know I don't have to," he snaps. Katniss narrows her eyes and pauses in her lighting of the fire - Haymitch was a grown ass man but no grown ass man took that tone with her and got away with it.

Sighing, he shakes his head and joins her over by the fireplace. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But you're… I can't… even if it's the smallest things, just let me worry. 'Cause if I'm worrying, at least I know that I got somethin' to worry after. Can't worry after you if you're dead, yeah?"

Katniss rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to die, Haymitch."

"That's what my ma and my brother said. And look what happened," he grins, but Katniss knows how much he aches to say that. Pressing a kiss to the edge of his jaw, she smiles. She knows she can argue him into the grave over the subject, but sometimes it's just best to let it go. Besides - it'd just be worse if he were sour the rest of the day. And she still needed to drag him down to the city to meet Effie and Peeta.

"Hey, didn't I promise you a treat after you did the wood?" she asks, pretending to just have remembered it. Haymitch's eyes light up, and the argument seems to have already been put behind him.

"Besides the breakfast?"

"Besides the breakfast."

"Well, yes ma'am, I believe you did," Haymitch murmurs, standing so that his arms can encircle her waist. "Does that treat include what I think it includes?"

"Only if you want it to."

Haymitch's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and Katniss can only laugh at the look of a child on Christmas morning that blankets his face. She's nothing short of dragged towards the stairs, and in the excitement, the rest of Haymitch's breakfast is quickly forgotten on the table and left to go cold.

Oh no
My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck
I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet
And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now