Get them, puppy.

Haymitch sat slumped deep in his arm chair. The crackling fire casting a deep orange glow across every surface. The house was hot, but Haymitch didn't bother opening any doors or windows, letting the heat make him sweat out the alcohol. He brought the bottle to his lips, taking a deep swig.

This year's quarter quell was a kick in the teeth, nothing came close. Being in the games was one thing, killing, maiming, surviving; they'd all come at a steep price. But knowing all that it took to be the last one standing, reliving memories night after night, only to be taken and put right back in that arena. Knowing that a lifetime of fresh new horrors could be visiting you nightly.

Haymitch laughed at himself, he took another swig. He was getting way ahead of himself, it was highly unlikely to survive the games once. To win twice? Might as well be impossible….

A door opened elsewhere, some slow shuffling steps crossed his home. Haymitch swallowed, pretending he didn't hear it. There was some clattering, bottles knocked over and trash thrown to the side. Haymitch sniffed, going to swallow another gulp of fiery liquor…empty.

Before he could throw the bottle against his wall a firm hand gripped the bottle. Haymitch didn't let go right away, tugging for a brief moment before signing and letting go.

You gently set the bottle down on the floor, “Still no answers at the bottom of those bottles, hm? Maybe after the next 50 you'll finally find it.”

“The drink isn't answers. It's a grave, sweetheart.”

“Doesn't seem very restful.”

His eyes finally meet yours. He'd been avoiding it. You were no stranger to his wounds, his pain, and the way he numbed them, but…he didn't want you to see him like this. Not now.

You were probably in enough pain, the shock and despair of knowing you'd be going back into that arena. And now there was concern there on top of it all.

Your brows furrowed, reaching out you grabbed Haymitch by his jaw, tilting his head to one side then the other.

“When's the last time you slept?” you asked.

“When did they announce the quarter quell…?”

it had been a few days.

you sighed, your thumb caressing underneath his eyes, they were dark and heavy. Then you traced his lips, chapped, ran your fingers through his hair, dirty.

“Oh, Haymitch.”

Haymitch grabbed your hand, pushing it away before struggling to push himself off of his chair, bottles clattered and he shuffled towards the kitchen.

“Don't…don't say my name like that you know how I-” Haymitch stopped himself, it was better if he didn't talk right now. Not when he felt he couldn't control what came out of his mouth. It could easily be screaming, yelling, or begging or sobbing. No best to keep his lips preoccupied with drinking.

Haymitch walked over to his liquor stash, a large pantry that was frustratingly lacking in food and annoyingly abundant in alcohol. He rummaged around for something strong, something that wasn't watered down. His hands shook and the bottles and cabinets shuttered and slammed.

You walked over, talking to Haymitch took patience. Having a conversation was something that required creativity and tact. You had joked before that it was similar to being in the games, it was an act of survival to learn how to talk to him without getting your head bitten off. You leaned against the pantry, watching him rummage, making it difficult for him to ignore your presence. He wasn't going to get rid of you.

“Haymitch.” you said.

He paused for a moment, before continuing, uncorking a small bottle before emptying what small amount of liquid was in it.

“Haymitch. Look at me.”

Haymitch rubbed his face, he could feel the tears stinging behind his eyes, and the pain in his throat as he swallowed. He rubbed fiercely, trying to remain deep under the liquor, but your voice seemed to sober him. All the thoughts and fears he had been avoiding dwelling on were all coming up. He was desperate to look at you, at the same time he wished he could throw you out and lock the door.

He sighed, before finally looking at you again.

You smiled, his eyes looked red, and he looked so so tired, but you smiled. Moving closer to him, you ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Linking your hands around his neck. Your smile remained.

Haymitch looked at you like every touch caused a bone deep ache. but he didn't stop you.

“Do you remember when we first met?” you asked.

Despite the aching, Haymitch gave a weak smile, followed by a scoff, “No.”

You tutted at him, “Liar.”

“It was the moment before they parade the tributes, I saw you watching me. You were wearing this…horrible green dress. It's was layers and layers of this…tulle fabric…” Haymitch reminisced, suddenly it was like he right back there, on that very day, seeing you in person for the first time, “It's was like…grass, littered with flowers…you looked like a bush.”

You laughed slightly, “You must have a unique way of hating things because you couldn't keep your eyes off me after that.”

“I could say the same about you. I remember you hating me at the time.”

“I'd…heard a lot of rumors. You looked…well you looked how you look now. I was curious” you smiled.

“And now it's your favorite thing about me…” Haymitch breathed, you caught a glimpse of a smirk before his fingers settled against your chin, tilting your lips to his.

You breathed in deep, he was drunk, he was desperate, and deep in despair but you didn't dare push him away. You were in no better state, all you needed was a drink. You decided to drink him in, letting his kiss make your heart swell, letting it deepen until you were moaning against his lips. You opened your mouth, letting him explore your tongue, your teeth, your lips, your neck.

Haymitch sucked a little spot near your ear, a spot he knew would make your knees buckle.

“Mm- ah- Hay- Haymitch…w- wait…”

Haymitch hummed, wilfully ignoring you, shutting you out completely. You were clever, you knew how to get to him. But you were nothing compared to him. If he had decided there would be no talking then there would be no talking. You could usually get what you wanted from Haymitch, but rarely would there be a situation where you didn't later realize that he was the one with the upper hand the entire time.

You were a survivor, same as him, but one thing people always underestimated about Haymitch, including you, was that he knew the game better than most. And before you knew it, you were playing by his rules all along.

Haymitch easily lifted you off the ground, he feet suddenly steady as he walked you towards the couch. You clinged to him, tucking your head against his neck, breathing him in deeply.

“I love you.” you whispered against his ear.

Haymitch nearly dropped you on the couch, but he set you down as gently as he could, before pushing you down, your back flat. He raised your hands above your head, his eyes clenching shut, biting his lip as if he were about to say something hurtful.

He put his hand over your mouth, and you stared at him indignantly, his breathing was laboured, heavy.

“Don't talk sweetheart. Just- not tonight.” Haymitch pleaded, his hand over his mouth moving to caress your face, and tuck your hair behind your ear. He leaned down, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you down against the cushions before his lips connected with yours again.

He kissed you hungrily, desperate to shut you up. You felt the heat and ache radiate up your legs, and chest, you whimpered. His hand crawled up your stomach, your chest, and face, kissing you again and again, compelling you to obedience, begging you to surrender to him.

You moaned his name, “Haymitch…” your hands clawing at his back as he kissed your neck.

“I'll allow that. Keep saying my name sweetheart.”

Haymitch eventually let you catch your breath, hovering over you he watched your chest heave, he took in your bruised lips, his thumb running against your mouth. You ran your tongue against his finger, wrapping your lips around him, before teasing him with your teeth, planting a small bite on his thumb.

He chuckled, a small act of rebellion against him. You'd let him have his way for now, but he knew the clock was ticking.

Haymitch sat next to you, motioning for you to come to him. You sat up, moving closer, until you threw a leg on either side of his, straddling his lap.

You sighed, feeling his body, hot and languid between yours. He seemed to melt against you, and you against him.

“I missed you.” you said between kisses.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Haymitch suddenly hissed, you couldn't help but move your hips against his, it seemed to happen naturally, without a single thought. You didn't concern yourself with him, moving your hips, seeking friction from his body.

You moved, a fluid motion against him, and he groaned, his hands flying to your hips with a shaky grip. His fingers trembled, but it did little to stop you, your mouth hovered over his, your heaving breath intoxicating him. You moved again, feeling him get harder against you.

It punched the air out of him, he growled, frustrated that you were inflicting sensation upon him, instead of him onto you.

Your heart raced, your thighs clenched.

You kept grinding against him, making him fall apart.

“M- Shit-” Haymitch moaned, “You're killing me, sweetheart.”

You rode him again and again, your lips clashing against his, “Haymitch, I need you.”

your hands frantically went to unzip his trousers, fumbling with the buttons, desperately trying to get at when you wanted most.

“You got me, sweetheart, I'm here.”

Haymitch’s hands went to help you speed up the process, successfully getting buttons and zipper out of the way.

His eyes locked onto yours, he watched your face as you reached into his trousers, your hands curling around his manhood. He winced, a bone deep ache radiating his entire body. His eyes lided heavily as you stroked him. He was hard for you, all you needed to do was sit.

You hurriedly stood up off of him, thumbing off your winter clothes as quickly as you could. Haymitch watched you, his gaze lazily tracing your body, as if the world outside had ceased to exist, his eyes took all they could from you.

In only your underwear you took a seat back on his lap, he grunted as your weight was back on him, and your hands back on his cock.

You pulled your underwear to the side, sliding yourself on him. His hands flew to your hips again, groaning as he felt your wet folds against his cock.

“Don't do this to me, sweetheart. Please.” Haymitch pleaded.

His begging made your body burn with such an intensity, you felt you might come just from that.

You kept grinding against him, wrapping yourself as tightly around him as your could, you kissed him, consuming every grunt and groan he sent your way.

His hands pressed you tighter against him, his hands gripped your hips, pushing and pulling you as you ground your hips against him. You clit rubbing against his cock over and over, you couldn't take it anymore, you lifted yourself slightly on your knees, and angled him against your entrance.

Haymitch barely had time to take in a breath before you sunk yourself down onto his lap, his cock deep inside you. You felt every inch of him fill you up, stretch you slightly with a satisfying fullness. Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling and squealing moan.

Haymitch moaned, he clenched his mouth shut, trying not to let such a pathetic sound ring out past his teeth. “Fuck-” he cursed, before taking both your hands and wrapping them around his neck, his hands gripping your hips, prompting you to move.

“Fuck me already.” he commanded.

Through your whimpering and moaning you managed enough concentration to start moving your hips, riding him over and over again. Feeling him hit a spot deep inside you that made it hard to breathe.

“You're extremely difficult to talk to, you know that?”

“You're more simple than you think, doll. It's not hard to distract you.”

“You forget that I'm stubborn too. I'm not leaving till this ends, one way or another.”

“I know.”

“Everything is gonna be alright, Haymitch.”

“You're the only female victor in your district. How the hell is this gonna be alright?” “I hope they draw my name.”

“Don't say that. What are we going to do if we're both on the games?”

“I'll kill for you.”

“And what about katniss?”

“I'll kill for her too.”