prompt for HADS : A Capitol magazine comes with an article on which male victors they think have the biggest dicks , and haymitch is in like the top 3 , effie is amused and haymitch is maybe a little embarrassed ( maybe smut ) effie teases him but then tells him she thinks he is number 1
Number Three
Effie was hungry when she came back to the penthouse after a whole night of partying but the sound of laughter coming from the living-room convinced her to go there rather than head to the kitchen. All the better, really. She had deviated from her diet enough in the last couple of days.
"You should all call me King from now on." Chaff declared, triggering a new round of laughter just as she walked in.
Mason, who was sitting on the floor in her underwear – it was a testament to how often it happened that Effie didn't even question why the woman's lovely dress had been tossed on the coffee table – groaned in dismay when she spotted her. From the armchair, Finnick smiled and waved at her. On the other one, Haymitch didn't greet her but he seemed to perk up a little.
"Ah, love…" Eleven's victor leered, patting the empty spot next to him on the couch. "Come sit next to the king."
She preferred ignoring that to go fix herself a drink, aware that they were all tracking her every move. It put a spring to her steps and she made a show of removing her gloves, finger by finger – all very decent, of course, but suggestive all the same. It was mostly for Haymitch's benefit but she didn't think it was lost on the others. The short pink silk dress she was wearing was a nice little number that showed her assets perfectly.
"Can we move on?" Haymitch sighed, eventually bringing back the discussion on tracks while she looked around for the bottle of tequila that Johanna was hogging. Seven's victor lifted one challenging eyebrow and Effie decided it wasn't worth the fight. She settled for rum instead. Not her favorite poison but she was so hungry, she could use the boost of sugar.
"Number three's not so bad, buddy…" Chaff said in a false comforting tone that was mostly teasing.
"Are you still talking about the article?" Effie sighed, not quite surprised. It was all everyone had been talking about all day and the male victors were naturally either bragging about it or shouting at the top of their lungs that the information weren't accurate.
To be fair though, she would have hated it if someone had decided to rank escorts based on their bust measurements so she could understand the fuss for them to have been ranked by the size of their penis.
Chaff had come first and had been letting everyone know since the article had come out that morning. Brutus wasn't being any more humble with his second position. And Haymitch, who had come in third, was both mortified, a little proud, and arguing to who wanted to hear that they had gotten it wrong and that he was bigger than Brutus for sure. As if it was that important.
She had listened and nodded sympathetically for the first half hour, then she had made herself scarce.
"Size doesn't matter so much anyway." Finnick argued, a little brisk. Probably because while he was in the top ten, he wasn't in the same league as the other two. "It's how you use it. Everyone knows that. Right, Jo?"
Effie deliberately avoided the empty spot next to Chaff, wary of just how confident that article had made him because she wasn't in any mood to deal with his wandering hand, and went to perch on Haymitch's armrest instead.
"No. Girls like big dicks." Jo shrugged.
Four's victor rolled his eyes. "Effie, help me out."
She wrinkled her nose a little and took a sip of her cocktail. "As much as it pains me, I am afraid I agree with Johanna." Finnick erupted in protests as Chaff laughed and she seized the occasion to lean a little closer to Haymitch's ear. "Must she be in her underwear?"
"Can strip further if you want." Johanna called out to her with a sneer. "Not like you wouldn't enjoy the view."
Effie pursed her lips in distaste at the very thought. "You are too young for me, actually."
"Bullshit. One thing I learned, you're never too old for a Capitol." Jo scowled.
"Easy." Haymitch demanded. And, just like that, the building tension simply receded. Seven's victor didn't look pleased but she had learned early enough not to attack Effie unprovoked. Not only the escort could hold her own but Haymitch only allowed teasing and mocking up to a point and not on every subject.
"So you like big dicks…" Chaff cut in, focused on that topic.
"I do not like your language." she snapped.
Eleven's victor wriggled his eyebrows. "But I bet you'd like what's between my legs… You've seen my measurements, yeah?"
"Like that's accurate." Haymitch scoffed, glaring at his friend.
"Well…" Effie hummed. "From what I heard, all the measurements are actually really accurate."
"Can vouch for many of them, right, Trinket?" Johanna snickered. "How many victors have you fucked?"
"Are you going to drop that line of accusation any time soon or do you really want Haymitch to get angry?" Finnick asked quietly.
"Just asking." Seven's victor shrugged without a hint of innocence. "I'm curious."
"I would really appreciate it if everyone minded their language." she sighed.
"Why didn't you shoot the whole thing down anyway?" Haymitch grumbled, switching his glare to her. "Aren't you paid to keep on top of my PR?"
"Not what she likes to keep on top of." Johanna muttered, triggering a few snickers.
Haymitch wasn't amused though.
And neither was Effie.
She lifted an eyebrow, sipping from her cocktail, and crossed her legs. His gaze didn't even twitch downwards. He was really annoyed, then.
"I think you misunderstood." she huffed. "I am not paid to keep on top of your PR, I am paid to keep on top of Twelve's PR."
Haymitch rolled his eyes. "I am Twelve."
"Now, I believe that is a huge exaggeration, darling." she deadpanned, batting her fake eyelashes in innocence.
Chaff roared with laughter, Finnick chuckled and even Johanna let out a short laugh.
Haymitch's face darkened before he realized how ridiculous he was being and rolled his eyes again.
"Don't call me pet names." he muttered. She hadn't done it on purpose. She tended to use pet names when she was making fun of him.
"You can call me pet names." Chaff insisted. "So about that size kink of yours…"
"I do not have a size kink." she protested defensively. "Why, according to those measurements, Finnick would suit me very well."
"Why, thank you!" Four's victor huffed. "I'm not small, you know. It's not because they are freakish…" He waved at Haymitch and Chaff. "… that it makes me small."
"You've got nothing to be ashamed of." Johanna grinned with a wink.
"I'm not freakish." Haymitch sulked.
"Well, there's average and there's you." Finnick insisted, before pointing at Chaff. "And then there's him."
Chaff toasted the boy with a very smug smile. "Can't help it, boy. I'm hung like a horse."
"Delightful conversation." Effie lamented. "Couldn't we talk about something else?"
"Oh, please." Haymitch scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at Chaff. "I've known you long enough. I know things about you I really don't want to. And I know those numbers aren't right. Not sure how much you paid that journalist…"
Chaff had a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Jealousy's never a good look on you, buddy."
"Yeah, right." Twelve's victor snorted. "You're gonna argue Brutus' bigger than me too or we can all agree that's bullshit?"
"Is it really that important?" Effie sighed.
"Sure, it is." Jo laughed. "You know what? I've got an idea. Why don't you all pull it out and Trinket and I will measure them. That way, maybe we can all move on to something else 'cause she's got a point, this is getting old. What is it with men and their fucking dicks?"
"I would rather not see horrors I would never be able to forget, thank you very much." she replied, standing up to refill her glass.
She added a couple of cherries in there, in hope it would be enough to keep her from becoming even more tipsy than she already was as well as to stop the sensation of hunger. The boys may all worry about what was hiding inside their pants but she was worrying about what she looked like in her couture dresses.
She barely paid attention to the conversation in the background because it was more or less the same. Haymitch was sulking, Finnick was vexed and Chaff was far too smug. She had been so focused on fixing herself a drink that was more cherries than alcohol that she completely missed Finnick calling it a night and was therefore surprised when they all stood up to leave.
She was a little relieved once the elevator was gone with all of them though. She contemplated the mess they had made of the living-room but dismissed any thought of lecturing Haymitch about it. It would be for Avoxes to clean up after all.
"Those measurements are not inaccurate." she observed, leaning against the wall as he came to the bar cart to get himself another drink.
She studied him attentively, trying to figure out at which level of drunkenness he was. It was becoming harder and harder to pinpoint it, with each passing year his tolerance threshold seemed to increase.
Right now she would have said slightly drunk.
"Yeah, and how did they get those?" he spat, glaring at her as if she had been the one babbling to journalists about what hung between his legs.
She pursed her lips, not liking the accusation at all. "I do not kiss and tell."
His face slowly softened and he sighed.
"I know." he admitted. "I'm just not really thrilled it's out there."
"Well, I am not thrilled either." she huffed. "I had to listen to the most infuriating chatter about you all day. Do you know what the people out there want to do with you?"
And not just the women but that was an information she kept to herself.
"What? Cause I've got a big dick I'm suddenly attractive again?" he scowled.
He didn't sound surprised. He wouldn't be, she supposed. It had been on her mind all day too, the consequences that the article could have. If someone decided to buy him… They had no obvious leverage on him but no man was an island. They could threaten his friends, his District… Her. There were ways to make a man comply.
"You never stopped being attractive." she commented.
His grey eyes darted from his glass to her, clouded with something familiar. He slowly walked back to his armchair and sank on it, legs spread apart, leaving an inviting space between his knees.
"What did you hear, then?" he challenged.
She plopped two more cherries in her mouth, trying not to be too obvious about it but aware he probably knew what she was doing, aware too that once they would be done with the little game he had just started there would probably be an attempt at making her eat something a little more nourishing.
"Well…" she declared, slowly walking toward him, making it a seductive prowl. "Most of them are curious to know if they could take all of you in their mouth…"
He shifted a little and licked his lips before taking a sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving her. "Are they, now?"
She hummed in confirmation as she nodded, still putting one heel in front of the other, accentuating the swaying of her hips. It was harder than it ought to be to walk straight because she was a little tipsy.
"They wonder how you would feel. Inside." she continued. "If it would hurt at first…"
"Does it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.
She waved a dismissive hand. "Sometimes. But it feels good too. Full." She came to stand between his legs and bit on her bottom lip. "I hate having to listen to that, you realize. You are mine."
A spark of annoyance flashed in his eyes but it was gone before he even tried to voice it. He took a deliberately bored sip of whiskey, watching her from shoes to wig. "You think?"
"I know." she growled, propping a knee on the left armrest. Her dress rode up enough that he could probably guess at the white see-through lacy thong underneath.
"Strip." he ordered calmly.
She was the one towering over him and she was the one who had claimed power but she didn't mind playing by his rules. Not when so many Capitols out there were staring at that article and wondering how it felt to be with him.
She worked on the wig first, knowing her hair would be an immediate turn on. She struggled a little with some pins, a little too inebriated to be efficient, and his free hand came to rest on the back of her thigh, gently running up and down… Eventually, she managed to let her hair loose on her shoulders and she tossed the wig on the couch without the care it deserved.
The dress was next. She took her knee off the armrest, disappointed when his hand left her skin but aroused by the obvious desire in his gaze. She unzipped it slowly, making a show of it, grinning when he sucked in a breath once he realized she didn't have a bra, and wriggled out of the tight fabric, standing there in nothing but a white see-through thong that hid nothing and impossibly high pink heels with a white bow on the ankle.
For a long moment he sat there and drank, watching her with a blank expression that the lust in his eyes betrayed.
He was good at restrain when he wanted to be. Usually when she didn't want him to be.
"So gorgeous… You're gonna make me yours, sweetheart?" he dared after a minute.
She didn't need much more incentive to drop to her knees and tear his pants open, not quite surprised when his fingers coiled around the back of her neck. Not tangled in her hair, hardly ever tangled in her hair when she did that, because she had trained him too well for that – a flash of teeth here and there and he had learned not to tug on her hair when she wasn't in the mood for it. He squeezed once, affection and possessiveness all rolled into one, and urged her closer.
He was almost completely hard already so she set to the task with zeal, looking into his eyes all the while, enjoying the way his fingers often accidentally squeezed her neck when she did something really right. He loved it when she sucked him off and she loved torturing him like that. She loved making him lose all common sense. She loved when his eyes glazed over and the only thing that mattered to him was her and what she was doing to him.
She was so completely in control in those moments… Even when she let him bob out of her mouth and teased him with her tongue, tracing letters on the throbbing vein, spelling words that had him snorting when his brain managed to work them out… Even then, she was the one in control.
She was really good at this, too. It wasn't long before he couldn't stop himself from thrusting hard into her mouth. She was willing enough to let him finish like that, almost certain he would return the favor anyway, but she was suddenly pulled up and settled on his lap. She adjusted by reflex, barely having enough time to straddled him properly and grab the back of the armchair before he tugged her thong to the side and guided himself inside her.
Then, his mouth found hers and the kiss was so intense she didn't even notice the unforgiving pace his hands imposed her hips. She rode him hard and kissed him harder, tossing her head back when his lips wandered to her throat and his teeth nicked at the tender flesh…
"Mine." he growled.
"Yours, yours, yours…" she answered in a desperate chant as she got closer to her climax… It washed over her like a powerful wave and she cried out, slumping against his chest. He groaned in frustration because he couldn't switch them over, couldn't change the angle, couldn't really take control… She knew what he needed so she kept on moving her hips, clenching hard… He came fast, his arms loosening a little around her back. Her forehead was pressed against his shoulder, over the thick fabric of his waistcoat, it wasn't a big effort to move her head to the left and nip at his neck. "Mine."
He didn't confirm it but he let out a tired grunt.
As she came back to herself, she became aware of how uncomfortable their position was. They had never really pushed his pants down and the zipper was digging sharply into the inside of her thighs, her legs were cramping and her underwear was digging in her waist. She wished he had just reaped them off.
With a sigh of regret because she would have liked to enjoy the cuddling a little longer, she extricated herself from the armchair. She was grateful he had the foresight of steadying her, between the alcohol, the heels and her wobbling legs she wasn't exactly sure on her feet.
She picked up her dress, aware that he was watching her, and turned around with half a mind to go take a shower and then collapse in bed. She didn't get really far before an arm sneak around her waist, tugging her back against a strong chest.
"Chaff's really not that big." he mumbled as if it was relevant at all. She supposed he was still thinking about that seize kink thing she really couldn't claim to have. She appreciated it, of course, but she couldn't say she had ever broken up with anyone over the seize of their penis.
"Even if he was, you know he is the last man in Panem I would sleep with, yes?" she chuckled.
"Yeah?" he taunted, nuzzling her neck. His tongue poked at her skin. "Nobody on that list's tempting you?"
"I heard number three is quite good with his hands." she teased.
His hand traveled up her stomach and cupped one of her breasts, his thumb toying with her nipple. Her breasts had been far too neglected during that last bout and she was happy to let her head fall back on his shoulder and leave him room to play.
"Tell you what…" he muttered, pressing hot distracting kisses as far down her collarbone as he could reach from behind. "How about we get something to eat and then I'll show you just how good I am with my everything, yeah?"
"Are you hungry?" she frowned, not really fooled.
"Could eat something." he shrugged.
"That implies tracking down an Avox." she hummed. "I am not dressed for that."
"I'll go to the kitchen and snatch something." he countered. "We can have a late dinner."
With all her avoiding him, she had missed dinner. And since he rarely bothered to attend when he was on his own… But, really, it was too late now and the calories…
"Perhaps a salad…" she hesitated.
"Nah, we're not rabbits." he protested, nipping at the flesh of her shoulder. "I'll get us some cold turkey, yeah? Must be some left from lunch. Can do sandwiches. You need to eat, you're gonna need strength for what I've got in mind."
She wasn't quite fooled by that excuse either but she liked that he was covertly trying to take care of her so she agreed quietly, not quite happy when he let her go to go take care of their late dinner.
Still, it was nice.
She wouldn't have exchanged her number three for anyone else. No matter the seize.