Prompt: I have a prompt and I think you haven't done it before. I couldn't find it in the tag list. It's Games' time, Effie and Haymitch are already a thing or whatever and she wants to go to an event in a dress which is very improper in his opinion, too short, too much skin and he wants her to change. She doesn't understand his problem and he has to admit his possessive thoughts in awkward Haymitch style. :D

The No-No Dress

"Would you hurry!"

His escort's shrill voice echoed throughout the penthouse and Haymitch rolled his eyes in front of the mirror mounted on the wardrobe's door, focused on the tie he was trying to knot. Although he didn't know why he bothered because Effie would insist on doing it again as soon as she would see him. She was annoying like that.

"I swear, Haymitch!" she screeched from wherever she was – probably pacing in front of the elevator, checking her watch every five seconds. "Given how long you are taking, you better have shaved!"

He rubbed his palm against the scruffy stubble covering his cheek with a satisfied smirk. Rattling her up was a guilty pleasure of his. Not only watching her get flustered over nothing was always enjoyable but it kept her on her toes.

He liked keeping her on her toes.

He gave up on the tie. It looked crooked and he was fairly sure it wasn't the right color anyway – she had left an outfit out for him, of course, because she always did when they were supposed to attend an official party, but he had balled it up and tossed in a corner just to irk her up further.

"Haymitch!"

With a sigh, he tugged the tie from around his neck and dropped it on the bed. He gave himself a glance over in the mirror and decided it would work well enough. He took a last gulp from the bottle of vodka he had stashed on his nightstand and finally left his bedroom, unable to drag it out any longer. He estimated they must have been a good fifteen minutes late at this point anyway – not his best but not his worst either.

"Do not make me come and get you !"

"Calm your tits!" he barked back, rounding the corner that led to the hall. "What happened to ladies and raised voi…"

His taunt died on his lips when he caught sight of her.

She was wearing… Nothing. There was no other way to describe that dress. It wasn't even a dress, it was… nothing. The fabric, whatever that was, was completely see-through, it covered her entire body but it might as well not have been there for the good it did her. There were a few golden embroideries here and there, in strategic places but it hid nothing and it actually made it worse because it attracted attention, made you wonder at what was underneath and…

Her lips were moving fast and it occurred to him she was ranting – of course, she was ranting, enraging her had been the whole point – but he didn't hear a single word of it. He wasn't sure what a stroke felt like but it might have been something like what he was experiencing at the moment. He was hot and cold at the same time.

He would have loved the dress if it had been intended as a way to induce a booty call.

"No way in hell you're going out wearing that." he spat.

She blinked, stopping in the middle of a sentence, clearly confused.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her chest in a severe posture that didn't suit her.

It didn't suit the dress either. It made the fabric shift and he could glimpse the dark pink of her nipple.

He didn't even want to see what the dress wasn't hiding at her back. The front was giving him a clear enough idea.

"Not fucking enough to let you go out in that." he growled.

She narrowed her eyes, her fake feather eyelashes fluttering up and down.

"Let me." she huffed, her lips pursed. "I was not aware you were my keeper, Haymitch."

He waved that away, not feeling even the slightest bit guilty despite her offended tone.

"You ain't going out like that." he insisted.

"I will go out however I please." she hissed, not at all amused. "You, on the other hand, will wear a tie."

He almost burst out laughing. As it was, his chuckles were more bitter than amused.

"You're seriously going to have a fit over a tie when I can see your tits?" he accused. "You go to that party in this dress, I swear, Effie…"

"What do you swear?" she cut him off. "I am curious. There is nothing wrong with my dress. It is the latest rage and…"

"Why don't you just go naked then?" he scowled.

"Do not be preposterous. I am perfectly decent." she retorted.

"For a whore maybe." he snapped.

"Are you calling me a whore?" She tilted her head to the side, glaring daggers at him. "Be very careful when you answer."

He ignored the question.

"You can't go out in public like this." he declared, his tone more forbidding than he was actually comfortable with. "I'm not letting you."

"Again with the letting me do things." she scoffed. "Honestly, Haymitch, this behavior…"

"The fuck am I supposed to say when you want to waltz out there wearing fucking nothing?" he shouted, losing the meager amount of patience he had left. "The fuck am I supposed to do out there when everyone gawks at you? The fuck?" The thought was unbearable. All those men and women who would stare and picture her naked… All those men and women who would imagine themselves with her… It made him growl and he pinned her against the wall before he could stop himself, a hand possessively coiled around her hipbone, the other pressed flat on her collarbone. "They don't get to see you like this. They don't get to fucking see you like this. That's mine."

With her heels, they were roughly the same height and they stared at each other hard. Her blue eyes were blown, when she licked her lips, his gaze darted down.

"As I was saying, this is the behavior of a possessive caveman." she stated, less aggravated than turned on. "And this is ridiculous. Everyone is wearing the same thing those days. I won't be any more exposed than…"

"Get a dress with more lace." he ordered. "'Cause you ain't leaving like this. I'll tear it in two I have to."

"You wouldn't dare." she snorted.

His fingers clenched a little on the fabric, itching to do just that… And he would have if they hadn't been due at that party – as much as he didn't want to go, he didn't want to antagonize the Gamemakers over nothing either, their absence would be noticed.

"You're sure about that, sweetheart?" he challenged.

"You are being unreasonably possessive." she accused.

"Not unreasonably. No." he scoffed.

Not denying the other part of that statement was already admitting to a lot and she seemed pleased with that. Her smile was smug.

"Very well, then." she surrendered. "For your peace of mind, I will change."

"And never wear that dress in public." he added. She narrowed her eyes. He wasn't going to take her attitude though, he stepped in her space, brushing his mouth against hers. His fingers left her collarbone to pinch the pink bud the dress wasn't completely hiding – not enough for his taste anyway. "That's mine to look at."

It was obvious she was having a fight with herself but, in the end, she sighed. "Your atrocious behavior really should not arouse me so much. Fine. You win. This dress won't see the light of day again." He rewarded that statement with a kiss that she immediately made dirty. She didn't let it escalate though. She pushed him away firmly. "None of that. If you will excuse me for a moment, I need to find a dress that won't force me to change my wig and my make-up." She pursed her lips and looked at him up and down with open annoyance. "The things I do for you."

He obediently stepped aside and let her go.

The dress wasn't hiding much at the back either and, while the sight was glorious, he was happy to have won that particular war.

"Hurry up, sweetheart." he called after her, in a much better mood. "We're gonna be late."

That warranted a sharp glare over her shoulder.

He didn't care.

Rattling her up was still sweet.