Prompt : I am so IN to read a story where Effie is the one in charge and Haymitch cant convince her to do what they both want. yes that was a request PLEASEEEE! *puppy eyes*
Warning: This isn't quite M but it's as close as I'm ever going to get (never say never, I know but still, be warned there's some things implied)
Also I'm going on a trip tomorrow until Friday so there won't be any prompt published this week but you can still leave me a message if you want to submit one =)
Beg
"That's cheating, sweetheart." Haymitch didn't even try to hide the effect her dress was having on him. He straightened up slightly on the barstool, his drink forgotten in front of him, as he took in the sight that was Effie Trinket that night. He wasn't the only one, every set of eyes at the victory party were on her, she was absolutely gorgeous.
"How is a simple dress cheating, Haymitch?" she asked innocently enough but he wasn't fooled. The triumphant smile on her dark cherry-red lips gave her away. She twirled slowly, so he could better admire the true master-piece she was wearing. There was nothing simple about that dress, it was designed to seduce and entice the imagination and he was completely gone. The red fabric was hugging her chest tight and even though it wasn't really showing her cleavage, it was hard to look at anything else but her breasts; it stuck to her waist like a second skin and then flew around her legs freely down her knees, her legs looked endless; but the best part was the see-through lace that covered her back. The dress in itself wasn't indecent in any way but, boy, was it a call for indecent ideas… She had even toned down the make-up and adorned one of her less-eccentric wig – dark black synthetic hair trimmed here and there with shiny white diamonds, that fell down to her chin in a short bob. As for her trademark heels… They were the same red as the dress with straps that circled her calves. He was still gaping when Chaff leaned around him to see what the commotion was about.
"You actually don't look ridiculous, love." Chaff said, looking her up and down. "I would even do you if I was drunk enough." Effie didn't roll her eyes because it would have been rude but Haymitch knew it was hard for her to refrain. He kicked Chaff in the shin anyway. "So what's this 'cheating' thing about? You two made a bet?"
Chaff was bored and the cocktails the bartender had been pouring them for the last hour weren't getting the job done. Neither Chaff nor Haymitch were even close to being drunk.
"Not your business." Haymitch replied. "Beside, the bet's over."
Effie's smile grew predatory. "I don't think so, Haymitch. The terms of the bet were clear."
He cursed his drunken self for the bet and the situation that had prompted it in the first place. It had been going on for three days now. Those Games had been as tense as they always were but for some reason, he and Effie had been at each other's throats even more than usual. Harsh words and cruel insults had been thrown back and forth since the Reaping, Haymitch had drank more and she had been nastier in her comments. How and why they had found themselves half-naked on the couch after a particularly bad quarrel, he didn't know but he did know that they had started arguing again about who had started what between them when they just should have shut up and have sex right there, right then. But Haymitch's drunk self had insisted that it was her who had jumped on him because he wouldn't even dream of sleeping with her otherwise and she had claimed the exact opposite and thus the bet was born if you could call bet the absolute torture that it was. He had bet she would come begging him to sleep with her and she had retorted that he would be the one who would break first.
There were a few things drunk Haymitch hadn't taken into account, too focused on winning their little bantering spar, and that was that Effie had a wicked, wicked mind when she wanted to. Three days of her parading around the penthouse clad in towels – I was taking a shower when I heard a noise, Haymitch, I thought you might have fallen was a bloody cheap excuse – satin nightgowns or dresses that looked more like belts than skirts, not to mention the innocent way she would press against him to grab something or the way she insisted on licking the chocolate from her spoon with a moan while staring right into his eyes, and Haymitch was slowly but steadily becoming hot, bothered and crazy.
Oh, he had tried to fight back. Gripping her waist to steady her when she didn't need steadying, brushing his lips against her ear under the pretext of telling her something that should remain privy to Twelve's representatives only, openly picturing her naked until she blushed… But truth was, Effie was better at that game and that cherry-red dress was the icing on the cake.
"Sweetheart, you won." he growled, getting off the stool to whisper in her ear. "Tour the room once, say you're feeling under the weather, I will wait for you by the elevators."
She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I don't think so. You forgot the magic word."
She sauntered away to a small group composed of sponsors and escorts, leaving him gaping at her retreating – particularly tempting – back.
"Someone's got it bad…" Chaff sing-songed, not bothering to hide his amusement. "So this bet of yours…"
He marched towards Effie and her silly friends and snatched her away easily enough.
"That was rude, Haymitch." she chided him. "Viola was in the middle of a story."
"You hate that bitch." he reminded her because the feud between Eleven and Twelve's escorts was a subject of gossip every year. Flickerman always did an interview with each of them that only add fuel to the fire.
"Even so." She smoothed his creaked jacket with obvious displeasure at his disheveled appearance. Her hand lingered longer than it ought to though.
"Let's get out of here." Haymitch growled. "You won. I lost. I want to tear that dress off you." It wasn't such a blow to his pride to admit it. Three days of incredible frustrating fantasies had made him think that his pride wasn't worth the price.
"You won't do a thing to that poor dress." she denied. "It costs more than your house and I happen to like it."
"I like it too." His hands were itching to touch her, he wanted to kiss every inches of her creamy skin and… "I will like it better off you."
"But Haymitch, you still didn't say please…" She batted her lashes with fake innocence. "You know how I care about manners…"
He rolled his eyes. "Are you fucking serious?"
She tilted her head and waited.
She was serious.
"You won. I'm hornier than you." he sighed "What more do you want from me?"
"Why, Haymitch." she smiled. "I want you to beg, of course."
Because if their role had been reversed, he would have made her beg and plead forever before he finally yielded to his lust for her. Effie could hold a grudge like no one else and wasn't that just perfect.
"No." he spat.
She shrugged with polished sophistication. "As you wish." She turned on her heels and went back to the small group he had dragged her off from. He slowly made his way back to the bar and Chaff who had obviously been watching with interest.
"Want to tell me what this is all about?" Chaff asked, pushing a glass full to the rim of that pink stuff in front of him. Haymitch was longing for whiskey.
"I hate Trinket." he mumbled, before downing the glass in one go. Those cocktails were disgusting.
"No you don't – which I don't get." Chaff snorted. "But there's nothing new there, so… What about that bet."
He considered telling his friend everything for a few seconds and then thought better of it. The less people knew he liked Effie, the safer it was. He didn't want Snow or anyone else to think they could use her against him. Haymitch was untouchable because he had nothing to lose after all. "Bet I could go a day without a drink."
Chaff obviously saw the lie for what it was but he didn't comment on it. Eleven's mentor turned his stool so he could watch the party in full swing. They drank in silence for a while.
"Your girl is doing a number of the dance floor." Chaff said, after some time.
"Not my girl." he mumbled in his ridiculous pink liquor. But his eyes betrayed him and searched her in the big wall mirror behind the bartender. She wasn't hard to find, a red dress wrapped around some guy dressed in blinding yellow with whom she was languidly swaying left and right.
"I think you're meant to watch and die of jealousy." Chaff mused, he seemed to find the whole business funny. "She doesn't usually let guys paw at her that way."
"Don't care." he lied. Oh, but he did. He didn't miss anything in the mirror, neither the way the guy's hands were roaming all over her nor her obvious flirting.
"She's kind of sexy in that dress." His friend observed. "Almost makes you forget she's Capitol. She looks like a real woman."
She always looked like a real woman to him despite the make-up and the ridiculous clothes. She was too fiery, too bent on meeting him taunt for taunt, too stuck-up for him to forget. He wasn't attracted to her because she could be gorgeous under all her stupid attires, he was attracted to her despite all that. And wasn't that a scary thought…
Their eyes met in the mirror, dark blue and smoky grey, as different as they could get. Her smile was challenging but it disappeared when she saw he wasn't seething with jealousy. He wasn't jealous, he wasn't jealous because he knew he could go over there and kill that man before he could even make a move and, of course, that would probably sentence him to death but the fact remained that he could. And that was the worst case scenario. Because as much as she wanted him to yield, he also knew that if he went over there and told her to choose between yellow guy and him, she would choose him. There was nothing to be jealous about.
He watched as she whispered something to the guy and made her way to the bar. The bartender was busy serving a group of giggling women but Chaff's last drink was still untouched.
"May I?" she asked.
"Be my guest." Chaff handed her his glass.
She sipped the vile pink stuff slowly and Haymitch pretended not to see the way Chaff was ogling her. She did look more human that night. It was the wig, he decided. She was almost underdressed by Capitol standards.
"My friend invited me to a private party." she said, out of the blue, staring right at him. "A more intimate setting, he called it. Should I go, I wonder?"
Haymitch should have told her to go to hell and stay there for all he cared, but he couldn't. He couldn't because, jealous or not, the idea of that man touching her…
"Please." he sighed.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Effie asked politely, putting down her drink.
Chaff was looking from her to Haymitch with a growing hilarity.
"Please, sweetheart." he said again, meeting her eyes.
"Perhaps I shouldn't go, after all." she told Chaff. "I'm feeling a bit unwell suddenly."
Haymitch didn't need much more to get off the stool and out the room. He barely caught Chaff's laugher and his "You bet you could make him beg, didn't you, love?" and elected to pretend he had never heard it because, well, he wasn't sure his ego could take a blow like that.
He waited by the elevators. It took a few minutes for her to join him, grinning like a fool. He had to physically restrain himself from kissing it away because it was bloody irritating but stopping himself from kissing her wasn't hard. Stopping himself from jumping on her on the other hand… When the doors finally slid open he was ready to swear he was going insane, he blindly pushed the twelfth floor button and stared at her, breathing hard. She was enjoying his frustration too much.
When the doors closed, he pinned her to the wall. His mouth crashed on hers and his hands clenched at her waist, groping her curves and trying to locate the zipper that must have been hidden somewhere, because she had said she didn't want him to tear the dress off and he didn't want another fight. His lips trailed down her jaw to her throat. Her breathing was quick now but still she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back.
"Your 'please' didn't sound very sincere, Haymitch." she pouted.
"No?" He tried to kiss her again but her hands kept him firmly at a distance. "You're being a tease, Effie." he whined.
"You said I would come to you begging." she retorted.
He cursed his drunken self to hell and back before licking his lips. "And I was wrong. Should I get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?" he smirked, dropping to the ground and kissing the soft skin of her leg. His hands ran up and down her thighs and he pulled up the rim of her dress slowly, intending to make her beg for a change.
"Stop." she said, gripping his shoulder and trying to pull him up. He looked up, frowning but the elevator took the decision for him when it chimed to signal they had arrived. They had barely set one foot in the penthouse before she was pushing him against a wall and kissing him aggressively.
"You're sending mixed signals here, sweetheart." he grunted, when she bit his neck. He finally managed to locate the zipper of her dress but she whacked his hand away before opening his shirt with such brutality that most of the buttons were ripped and bounced on the floor. Her hands stroke his chest and came to rest on the slight bulge of fat around his waist. She paused and he wondered if her aim was to arouse him until he died of frustration.
"How much do you want me ?" she asked, looking him straight in his eyes and god…
"You would already know if you just let me show you…" he retorted, putting his hand on her ribs. She grabbed his wrists. "Effie…" he moaned in sheer irritation. "It's not funny anymore." He wanted to touch her. He wanted her naked. He didn't care if she wanted to call the shot and be the one in control but he wanted her now.
"Beg." she ordered.
"Please." he yielded and, at that point, it was a plea. "Please." he said again, leaning in to kiss her throat softly. "I want you." She let go of his wrists to pull him in a kiss that left him breathless. "Please." he whispered against her lips. "I need you."
"I win." she relaxed against him and he got the feeling this game had been as hard for her as it had been for him.
"You win." he confirmed, kissing her again. She didn't stop him when he blindly unzipped her dress. Just this once, he was happy to lose.