Haymitch and Effie try not to be caught for obvious reasons when having sex so they keep the volume of their "love making" to a minimum but could you do a one-shot where they simply go "screw it" and have crazy loud unrelenting Hayffie sex as if the world was theirs? That would be magical. XD

So, as some of you have noticed, I've been having troubles keeping up with a prompt a day lately, due to a certain number of reasons ranging from inspiration, passing through 'it's spring so I want to do stuff outside' and I'm playing dragon age again, and ending with I'm totally binge writing a huge hayffie story right now and I'm obsessed with it, which means I have less time to actually tackle prompts.

So I will keep to two prompts a week for now (I'm thinking Tuesday and Thursday because I have those afternoons free usually but it may vary from week to week) but probably not four anymore for the time being. It's not a carved in stone rule, obviously, if I've got time and inspiration I might publish one a day but… For now, I prefer warning you that it might stick to 2 a week for a little while. I hope nobody mind =)

Thirteen's Rules

"Quiet." Haymitch reminded her when a low whimper passed her lips. "Be quiet for me, Princess…"

He soothed that reprimand with a kiss, keeping his thrusts deep and almost brutal, more frustrated than aroused by the way she was fighting not to make a sound. It couldn't be good for Effie. She was so focused on trying to keep a hold on herself, there was no way she was going to relax enough to actually enjoy it.

Fucking District with its fucking rules…

Thirteen had taken everything from them. They had taken his alcohol and his knife. They had taken her blinding armor of colors and her cheerfulness. They would not take away the sex. Not if he had anything to say about it. It was his last derivative, his last guilty pleasure in this life, and he would fight for it as long as he could.

So, of course, contraception wasn't available at all in this place and abstinence was the only way to prevent a pregnancy – they had tried that, it had lasted a good total of two days before driving them crazy and up against the nearest wall, which had prompted them to agree that with her fertility problems and his years of alcohol abuse, they would probably be fine if they were careful about what they did. Of course, with a security as tight as it was and with people coming and going to find him and drag him back to Command at every hour of the day, they were now more or less an open secret. Of course, Effie was angry and he was desperate and it made for a bad mix of rough hate sex.

Of course.

But it wasn't enough to stop them.

Even if they had been forced to sit through a very embarrassing lecture from a guard the other day about keeping it down for the neighbors.

It seemed they were being too loud and that there had been multiple complains from the adjoining compartments.

Effie had sat through the whole thing looking stoical, with a touch of polite interest on her face but not much else. The whole thing had enraged Haymitch to no end. The lecture had been given on the threshold of her compartment, public enough that he was sure a few people passing by had heard, and had so clearly be meant to humiliate them or to make them feel ashamed – well, her mostly, he figured, because he wasn't that vocal in bed – that it was all he could do not to punch the guy.

And he had never been prouder of Effie than when she had simply smiled at the soldier at his end of his little speech, had thanked him for sharing his concerns and had simply shut the door in his face.

They had avoided having sex again for a few days because, as much as it annoyed him, he knew it wouldn't be that easy.

And there they were, with Effie keeping her eyes shut tight, breathing hard through her nose, her neck strained, so red in the face, her hands clenching the crumpled standard sheets under her back…

He pressed a kiss on her throat, not quite enjoying himself either. He didn't like seeing her like that, restraining herself. She was so beautiful when she lost control…

"Don't." she croaked. "Just… Finish, please."

"You ain't going to come like that, sweetheart." he sighed, slowing down his pace. He hooked his elbow under her knee, forcing her leg higher, switching angle, hoping that maybe… What came out of her mouth was almost a sob. She bit down on her hand and he frowned, immediately prying it loose from her teeth. "None of that." he chided her.

"I hate this place." she spat. "I hate it."

"Yeah." he agreed wholeheartedly, resting his forehead on her collarbone, trying to convince his hips to stop their rocking. "Look, we're just gonna…"

"You can finish." she cut him off, snatching the pillow from under her head to press it against her face.

With each new thrust, she hugged the thing tighter and he was afraid she would suffocate. He held on for a couple of minutes and then took it away and tossed it on the floor, far enough that she wouldn't accidentally kill herself out of frustration.

"What do you need?" he asked, lips pursed in irritation. "What can I do to help?"

She shook her head. "If I let go, I won't be quiet, Haymitch. It is not you. You are doing it very right, which is the problem…"

He stared into her blue eyes, calculating, and then came to a decision.

"Fuck them." he declared, punctuating that statement with a brutal thrust. "Scream for me."

A strangled noise escaped her throat but she bundled the sheets in her hands even more, as if trying to find purchase.

"We will get in trouble." she reminded him in an urgent whisper. "It is not worth it. You will…"

"Oh, yeah, it's worth it." he grumbled. "If they've got a problem with us having fun in bed, maybe they need to loosen up a little, have a good fuck of their own. Might even take that pole off their collective ass."

"But…" she argued and it morphed into a long moan when he bit down on her neck.

"I'll take care of anyone who complains." he promised. "Don't worry your pretty little head…" The tension slowly left her body to replaced by another, more pleasurable, kind. He could have gotten high on the little sounds she made before it became full moans and whimpers. He rewarded each and every one of them with open-mouth kisses on her sweaty skin, tongue poking at her flesh. "So beautiful…" he coaxed against her mouth, slipping his free hand between their bodies when she started wriggling a little under him. "Come for me, sweetheart…"

"Haymitch!" she shouted, loud enough to be heard two compartments away probably.

It made him smirk and he sunk his teeth on her neck in a kiss that would leave a mark, somehow answering to the primitive urge to claim her as his. His thrusts were frantic now and he hooked her leg even higher, thankful that she was so flexible because she was boneless under him and no help at all, lost to her own bliss.

He felt her fingers run in his hair and down his sweaty back, felt them trail lower until they shamelessly grope him hard, nails digging into the tender flesh of his butt cheek…

"My name." she requested. "Say my name…"

It was more than he could take.

He barely had time to pull out before he came on her stomach and breasts with a rare loud groan that vaguely sounded like her name. For a moment, he rested his whole weight on her, too far gone to think or care.

She kept him there, one hand coiled at the back of his nape, her legs hooked around the back of his thighs. Eventually he looked up, feeling the sticky mess on their chests resisting the pull, and licked his lips because she was so beautiful, so sexy, he could almost go for a second round. She had tossed her free arm over her head on the mattress and she had that particular spark in her eyes that she always got after a good fuck.

He felt sorry for anyone who could ever think stopping her from being loud in bed was a good idea.

As far as he was concerned, it was part of the fun and he loved it.

And he didn't care if it was bothering the neighbors.

It was one thing to be quiet when they were having a quickie in the restrooms, in a supply closet or in a locked room in a public place but it was completely another to be quiet in bed, where they could take their time and where it wasn't about the rush of a hasty affair.

"I used my allotted hot water time for the day already." she pouted.

"Yeah, me too." he winced.

Five minutes of hot water every day wasn't much.

She groaned even as he pressed an apologizing kiss against her throat. He should have known better and aim to the side. It was easier to clean messes from sheets or the floor than from themselves.

"I am so not in the mood for a cold shower…" she complained. "I am finally warm…"

"We're sweaty anyway." he pointed. "We'll catch a cold. Come on."

He dragged her out of bed. She followed more or less willingly, knowing he was right but not happy about it.

He didn't like cold shower any more than anybody but he didn't mind them so much either. Cold water was all that often had been available in his childhood and Twelve wasn't exactly Four, you didn't grow up there and not develop a tolerance for low temperature. Effie, on the other end, was sensitive to the cold and was forever complaining about the lack of proper heating in Thirteen.

The shower was small.

It was barely more than a square on the floor – and it left water everywhere in the tiny bathroom every time they used it. He usually had to duck his head if he wanted to get it under the streaming freezing water – which he wasn't keen on at the moment. Fitting together in there was a feast they had yet to perfect but Effie didn't quite seem to mind that her back wasn't completely under the spray. She cleaned herself up very quickly and stepped away, leaving him room to do the same.

Since she had yet to be assigned a roommate, there was only one towel and they were forced to share – which she grumbled about a little. By the time she was back in woolen socks, the long-sleeves undershirt she had stolen from him and a pair of loose grey cotton pajamas bottoms – with which she had a love-hate relationship with because she hated sleeping in pants even though it kept her warmer than anything else she owned – her teeth were still chattering.

She hurried back into bed and under the blankets, immediately snuggling up against him when he eventually joined her. She trapped her cold feet between his legs, sneaked her freezing hands under his shirt and buried her nose in his neck. It wouldn't be comfortable to sleep but he knew she would shift at some point after a few minutes, probably insisting on him draping his whole body over hers by spooning her, so she could sleep in a warm cocoon.

Thirteen had forced them to adopt domestic habits he wasn't quite sure about.

He disliked sleeping in his own compartment if she wasn't there. He didn't even mind just going to bed without anything happening if it meant having her close at night. He was slowly being forced to acknowledge feelings he had been denying for so long it almost was ridiculous…

Yeah…

Thirteen sucked.

"Will they punish us, do you think?" she whispered, sounding a bit worried.

With good reason, he guessed. Punishments around there hardly fitted the crimes.

"They won't touch you." he mumbled, turning his head to her hair. Something else he wouldn't really have done before. Gestures of affection were getting out of hand on his part lately. Somehow, they had started to become natural responses and…

"You do not know that." she breathed out.

"Oh, yeah, I do." he snorted. "They need me and Katniss. Coin's not a fool enough to go after you now… It's not a total free pass but… She won't go after us just 'cause we…"

"Have enthusiastic sex?" she finished, a teasing note in her voice.

"Yeah, that." he chuckled briefly.

She chuckled too, right into his neck and he tried not to love the intimacy of it as much as he truly did.

"I love having enthusiastic sex with you." she teased. "It is the best sex."

"The best, yeah?" he smirked, probably a bit too smug.

Her chuckles turned to giggles and she shifted on her other side, pulling his arm over her waist, effectively forcing her to become a human blanket. He wrapped himself around her willingly enough, mainly because with the war raging outside and so much of their friends missing, he couldn't help but feel overprotective of the ones he had close.

He was drifting off, lulled to sleep by the distracted patterns her nails were drawing on his forearm, when she finally answered.

"The very best." she murmured, almost to herself. "The only kind I want for the rest of my life."

Months earlier, it would have sent him in a panic.

Now, it still unsettled him but not enough that he bolted from the bed.

He kissed her nape instead.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart." he muttered. "Maybe we can get you to wake the neighbors tomorrow morning…"

It would certainly be more fun than the siren that passed for an alarm clock in this place.