I was prompted: #84 needy clingy sex set in District 13. The prompt called for it to be first time. I hope this is ok- it became a bit like to one shot that did not want to end!

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It's his first night in his new living quarters after his enforced stay at the finest rehab facility in all of District Thirteen, and Haymitch is not at all surprised when he hears a knock at his door.

He's been expecting it and so he's not made any real effort to go to sleep, despite the fact that he's been alone in this windowless room for the last two hours with only his own thoughts for company.

"Come in Sweetheart. I get this place all to myself."

His door opens halfway, and a figure slips in before closing the door as silently as it had been opened, and when the figure turns around and steps into the dim light of the room he's alone with Effie Trinket for the first time since they left the Capitol.

Sure, he'd seen her briefly in the boardroom when they'd gone over the propos that Katniss had filmed. He'd even indulged in a spot of flirting with her before turning back to the task at hand.

But when she'd got up, pushed her chair back neatly under the table and walked out of the room, she'd paused at the doorway and turned back to give him a fleeting look. It had been a loaded look, full of longing, and promise and something, and he'd felt it resonate deeply in his chest.

That look had been enough for him to know that she'd come knocking tonight.

She's fidgeting, hands smoothing over the front of her customised tunic as she makes her way towards him, eyes flitting around to focus on the floor, the walls, the ceiling; anywhere but him. It's only when she's come to a stop in front of him that she slowly lifts her face and lets her eyes meet his.

He looks at her face, and he's immediately reminded of his earlier comment. It's true; she really does look better without all of that makeup. She no longer looks like some sort of fantasy, some Capitol doll. She looks real, and Haymitch doesn't want to dwell on why exactly he finds that so attractive.

Her mouth opens and then promptly closes again, and she looks like she's got a thousand thoughts running through her head that she can't voice.

Haymitch pats the bed next to him and she sits down gracefully, hands smoothing over the leggings she's wearing, and Haymitch really tries not to let his eyes linger on the way the fabric is drawn tight against her thighs. Trust Effie to take something as unflattering as the uniform of this District and make it look like... that.

He's drawn from his thoughts when he hears her clearing her throat delicately, finally breaking the silence that seems to have settled over the room like a dense fog.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you properly after... well, after. How are you feeling?" she asks, voice soft and cautious, and one of her hands comes to rest tentatively next to his in the space between them on the bed, close but not touching.

"Sober," he deadpans, and he waits for her to voice her disapproval at his flippant manner, but no disapproval comes. She's silent again, and when Haymitch looks up at her face he's horrified to see that her bottom lip is shaking tremulously, and her eyes are shining with unshed tears.

"Shit sweetheart, I didn't mean... what's wrong?" he asks, and his hand moves before he can stop it to cover hers, squeezing in a way that he hopes comes across as reassuring.

Effie takes a shuddering breath, and she brings her other hand up to swipe at her eyes, brushing away the tears that threaten to fall.

"I'm sorry Haymitch. I came here to see how you were, and once again I've managed to make it all about myself. I just.. I haven't had a chance to speak with you properly, since.. since we arrived here," she exhales shakily, and she shifts her hand under his so that their fingers entwine.

Haymitch tries not to focus on how her small hand feels in his, and how her thumb is brushing against his hand almost absent mindedly, and how the hell is her skin still this soft without all of her fancy lotions and stuff?

"It just feels like..like, one minute we were watching the games and then the next minute we were in the hovercraft, and then we were here, and you were gone, and I was alone, and.." she breaks off mid sentence, taking a deep breath as her hand grips his.

"Well, you're not alone now. I'm here."

Effie turns to look at him, and she looks lost, uncertain, and her hand grips onto his tighter as she starts to speak.

"Can.. can I stay here for a little while? With you, I mean. I had to avoid about three guards doing night patrols on the way here, and I'm worried that I'll run into them if I try and go back. And.. and I want to stay here with you," she rushes the last part out, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she holds his gaze, the hand that's entwined with his shaking slightly.

Haymitch realises with a jolt that this is it. His answer to this single question will determine where their relationship stands. If he makes a sarcastic comment, if he mocks her after she's laid her feelings on the line, they'll go back to the way they were before. But if he gives in and tells her to stay, he'll be admitting something to her and to himself; he doesn't know what exactly, hasn't made sense of it in his head, but it's something and the thought terrifies and thrills him in equal measure.

Mind made up, he opens his mouth and speaks.

"You can stay here. Room's a bit quiet when it's just me. And I'd like you to stay," he admits, and her answering smile is soft and genuine and trusting, and Haymitch feels a tightening in his chest at the thought of her trusting him. At the thought of anyone trusting him.

Effie's leg bumps up against his as she shifts closer, and her thumb resumes its earlier brushing across his hand, and Haymitch wonders if this night is headed where he thinks it might be headed .Where he hopes it's headed. The light from the lantern on his desk is casting a flickering light across her face, and her gaze seems to be flitting between his eyes and his lips.

"Should we - I mean shall we - do you want to um.. lie down? It's late," and her voice is hushed, a shy whisper of a thing, but Haymitch thinks the intent behind her words is clear, and he feels his heart start to beat a little faster.

He nods his head and untangles their fingers as he shifts, turning around to pull back the covers on the narrow bed, and when he turns back to face her she's standing in front of the bed, shoes off and hands smoothing down the front of her tunic nervously. She seems tiny, vulnerable with her bare feet, and she's close enough that if he reached his hands out, he could rest them on her hips.

He's trying his very best not to think about how it would feel to stroke over her skin with his fingers, to feel her come alive under his touch, and he's grateful when her hands start to move upwards, giving him something else to focus on.

He follows her hands, and when they stop at the scarf wrapped around her head he lets his eyes settle on hers, but she's avoiding his gaze, eyes focused on a spot on the wall just above his head.

"If we're going to...lie down," she explains falteringly, hands starting to unwrap the twist, "then I think I'll take this off. It's more comfortable."

He makes a noise that he hopes sounds like approval, but really he doesn't have a clue what it actually sounds like when it comes out of his mouth, and after what seems like an age, the scarf falls away from her head, and suddenly he's seeing her properly for the first time.

Her hair is pinned up onto the top of her head, and it's blonde, and now that he's seeing it he thinks he has a dim memory of stumbling into the wrong room on the train once and being faced with blonde curls spread across a pillow, but he isn't sure if he's imagining that.

Effie reaches her hand up and busies herself removing the clips and pins that are holding her hair in place, and when she's finished, and her hair falls around her face, Haymitch has to push down the sigh that nearly escapes from his mouth because holy shit, she is beautiful. She's wearing no makeup, her hair is unstyled, and even with her adjustments there's still no escaping the fact that she's wearing a uniform, and yet the sight of her threatens to steal the breath from his lungs.

She's searching for somewhere to put the hairclips that she's holding in her hand, and she seems oblivious to his awestruck expression as she takes the couple of steps over to the table where she leaves the contents of her hand before making her way back over to him.

She stands in front of him, hands fiddling slightly as she looks at him expectantly, and he belatedly remembers that they were going to lie down. Right. Lie down. Haymitch moves the blankets back from the bed, shuffling along slightly so that he's laying on his side with his back up against the wall.

There's a blush spreading across her face as she climbs into the bed, and there's not enough space for two, barely enough space for one, so she has no choice but to press herself up against him lightly as she lies down next to him and he draws the blanket up and over them. They're both still wearing all of their clothes, but he can feel her heart beating, and her feet are cold as they brush against him, and she's biting her lip as the blush on her cheeks intensifies.

He's still speechless, lost for words at the sight of her like this, and he hesitantly brings a hand up to touch her hair, coiling a lock of it around his finger as his thumb brushes against her face softly.

"Is this.. is this ok?" she asks hesitantly, and he doesn't know if she's referring to the way they're pressed together, or the way she looks, but he's answering for both when he replies, "It's more than ok."

Haymitch brings his hand down so that it's resting on her hip under the blanket, and Effie grips his shoulder tightly as she licks her lips, and suddenly the air between them feels charged. He lets his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips, and he feels the beat of her heart increase where she's pressed up against him.

"Effie, I," he starts, but that's all he manages to get out because suddenly she's surging forward and crashing her lips against his in a messy and forceful kiss. It feels as if it's coming from a place of desperation, of yearning, and Haymitch licks his tongue against the seam of her lips until she opens for him, mouth softening slightly under his.

Their tongues slide against each other for a while, and Effie's clinging to him, fingers tangled in his hair, and he's not sure if the moans he can hear are coming from her or from himself.

Haymitch opens his eyes, wanting to see the look on her face, and he's greeted with the sight of tears filling her eyes again.

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't.." he starts after he's torn his lips away from hers, a frown stealing across his face as he regards her with concern.

"No! No, please don't apologise," she rushes out, hand leaving his hair and coming to rest at the side of his face, fingers lightly stroking across the stubble she encounters at his jaw. "I just.. it's been so long Haymitch, and I didn't know when I was going to see you again, and I've felt so alone without you here, and I thought maybe we'd missed...I want this. I need you, please."

Effie brushes her lips against his, hand still stroking over his jaw, and Haymitch tries to tamp down the wave of pure arousal that shoots through him at her admission. She grabs onto his collar and urges him towards her, and when Effie rolls onto her back Haymitch goes with her, settling above her as both of her hands come to rest on his shoulders.

Effie's leg lifts up off the bed to hook over his, and when she tips her head back slightly Haymitch takes his cue, bringing his head down to brush his lips lightly over the exposed skin of her neck. The little sigh she makes spurs him on, and he peppers kisses along soft skin on display, his hands remaining at the neutral territory of her waist. She's breathing heavily, chest heaving under his, and when he swirls his tongue around her thundering pulse she whimpers, and Haymitch feels his cock stir within the confines of his pants.

He carries on with his teasing touches for a couple of minutes until she's panting beneath him. One of her hands has come up to tangle in his hair at some point, and she yanks him up to claim his lips in a fiery kiss, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him down so that his hardness is pressed up against the apex of her thighs. She gasps into his mouth and her hips rock up slightly so that she brushes against him, and Haymitch breaks the kiss with a groan, forehead coming to rest against hers.

"Christ Effie. Can I see you? I need to see you," he pants, and it takes a second but then she registers the meaning of his words, a blush on her cheeks as she nods her head against his.

He knows that his hands are shaking as he brings them down to grasp the edge of her tunic, and he's not sure if it's because of the withdrawal or if it's because he's finally seeing her like this, but as he pulls the material upwards and inch after inch of her milky white skin is exposed before his eyes he thinks that if this is what sobriety looks like, maybe he'll keep up with it after all.

Effie's obviously losing patience with his slow work, and before he can tease her further she's batting his hands away, pulling the tunic over her head and untangling her arms before throwing it across the room in an uncharacteristically careless move.

Then she's lying in front of him, District issued bra simple but still displaying a faint hint of cleavage, and Haymitch can feel his hands starts to shake once more as he smooths them up and over her stomach to rest at the edge of the black fabric.

Effie's back lifts up off the bed, and her arms reach behind her back awkwardly, and it takes a few seconds of movement but then she's removing the garment and dropping it to the floor, and her top half is completely bare before him, and Haymitch thinks he may have just lost the ability to speak.

His hands are still in place, only now he's a millimetre away from the curve of her bare breast, and her nipples are straining and erect, and when he brings his thumbs up to swipe lightly across the rosy peaks, a gasp of his name tumbles from her lips. Haymitch cups her breasts gently, thumbs still swiping across her, and on the next swipe when he flicks slightly he's rewarded with her breathy "Please!"

"Tell me what you like?" he requests, and he wants to please her, wants to watch her coming apart and writhing under his hands, and he's not sure what he's done to deserve this, but he's sure as hell not going to mess it up. His mouth meets hers in a short and almost chaste kiss, and then he draws back slightly to look at her as she opens her mouth to speak.

"Oh. When you flicked, I.. do that again? And your mouth, oh God Haymitch your mouth please, I want you so much," she manages to choke out, her face flushing almost scarlet under the scrutiny of his gaze, and Haymitch flicks both thumbs over her nipples simultaneously, rewarded by a hitch in her breath and her eyes fluttering closed.

Haymitch leans his head down and Effie fists her hands in his hair, back arching up to meet him, but he avoids her nipples, instead pressing open mouthed kisses over the swells of her breasts until she's squirming underneath him, the little noises that are escaping from her mouth almost constant now.

When he's teased her enough, when she's shaking and quivering below him, Haymitch lets his mouth fall hungrily on her breasts, tongue swirling around one nipple before sucking it deeply into his mouth, lips pulling as he twists and teases the other with his fingers. When he releases her nipple from his mouth, he lets his teeth scrape lightly across the hardened peak and is rewarded with a high pitched "oh yes, that, that!"

He switches to her other breast and repeats his motions, her hips jerking up towards him and her hands pulling lightly on his hair. Then suddenly she's pushing his head away, gasping and bringing his mouth up to meet hers. It's not a refined kiss; it's somewhat sloppy, and they're both slightly short of breath, but she's clinging to him like he's the last good thing on earth, and Haymitch thinks that maybe this is what dying feels like. Or living; in this case, he's not sure which is the better analogy.

It takes him a few seconds before he realises that her hands are tugging at the collar of his shirt, and when he pulls back to look at her quizzically, her shy request of "Take this off?" has him pausing.

Haymitch thinks of the men she's probably been with in the past, and then he thinks of his own scars and he wonders what her reaction will be when she sees them. Will she be shocked, he wonders? Speechless in the face of his battered body, and unable to look him in the eye? Her whispered "Please Haymitch," has him acquiescing, and once he's unbuttoned the shirt and deposited it on the floor, he lets his eyes meet hers, and waits.

She makes no comment on what she sees, but her soft hands map out the contours of his body, cataloguing every scar, every badly healed wound, and once she's completed her inspection she tips her head up so that their lips meet in a ghost of a kiss, noses brushing against each other lightly. She brings his hands down to rest at the waistband of her leggings, and when she mumbles "take these off too" against his mouth, Haymitch takes a deep intake of breath and wills himself to stay calm.

Despite the shaking of his hands, Haymitch manages to work remarkably quickly, pulling the leggings down her legs as she shifts to undo the fastenings of his pants, and after some awkward shuffling on both parts suddenly there's only the thin fabric of their undergarments separating them.

Effie's now bare legs come up to wrap around his waist and pull him towards her, moaning aloud when his hardness meets her center, and when Haymitch shifts forward experimentally, her hips surge up to meet his, and he can feel the heat of her through the cotton of her panties.

Their hips work in tandem for a few minutes, lips and tongues sliding against each other with an increasing sense of urgency, and when Haymitch brings his hands down to rest at the edge of her panties Effie moans into his mouth, head nodding frantically against his.

Haymitch slides the panties down and off Effie's legs, and when he sees her completely bare before him for the first time he has to remind himself how to breathe. Her skin is soft and smooth, unmarred and free of any blemishes, and not for the the first time, Haymitch feels a pang of anxiety as he's reminded of the two completely different worlds they inhabit. Or inhabited, as the case may be.

But then Effie's hand hesitantly closes around his wrist and draws him closer towards her, and Haymitch pushes those thoughts out of his mind. He lets his fingertips edge towards her, and when he finds her warm and wet he moans lowly in his throat, and her breath hitches as he lightly trails a finger around the circumference of her clit.

Her gasp of his name is high pitched and needy and it spurs Haymitch on, his fingers continuing their teasing touches to her clit before pausing to flick it slightly, and the noise that comes out of Effie's mouth is somewhere between a sob and a moan.

The sound shoots straight to Haymitch's cock, and he crushes his mouth to her neck again, groaning against the slightly salty skin, and when he combines a deep sucking kiss with a particularly firm rub of her clit, Effie's nails dig into the skin of her shoulders and her hips jerk up against him sharply.

She breathes out a "Please!" and when he says Tell me? she hisses "Inside" and Haymitch lets his fingers shift down through her wetness until they're resting at her entrance, pausing for a beat before letting his middle finger slide inside and withdraw before easing two fingers back in.

Effie's mouth drops open slightly, her tongue coming out to moisten her bottom lip as he maintains his slow thrusts in and out, and she's so wet, so warm around his fingers, and Haymitch can't help but moan when he thinks of what she would feel like around his cock.

The thought has him speeding up his thrusts, fingers sliding in and out with ease and curling slightly to massage that slightly roughened patch of skin he encounters. Her reaction is instantaneous, hands flailing slightly as her hips thrust up against his hand with more vigour.

Haymitch can tell she's close, on edge after his previous teasing, and so he lets his fingers thrust harder and his thumb comes up to swipe firmly over her clit and then she's gone, crying out and shattering below him as she tenses around his fingers. He brings his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply and swallowing her gasps as his fingers continue moving inside of her.

His fingers are still moving within her steadily when her hands start to travel down his back, stopping when they reach the edge of his underwear and Haymitch has to break their kiss to pant "Are you sure?" against her lips, and her breathy I'm sure Haymitch, now please has him bringing one of his own hands down to help her.

There's some shuffling, some kicking of legs as they work in tandem to free him of his last remaining garment and then it's gone, and Effie's wrapping her legs around his waist and reaching down for his cock.

Haymitch has to suck in a deep breath as her thumb comes up to stroke across the tip, and then her hand is encircling him, lazily stroking him up and down a few times before moving her hand away and bringing both arms up to wrap around his neck.

Haymitch takes his cue, gripping his cock and letting it slide through her wetness a couple of times and then he's pushing forward, sliding into her agonisingly slowly, Effie's lips parting as he fills her. He breathes through his nose, forcing himself to stay still as he allows her a few seconds to adjust to the feel of him, and then she's gripping those arms tighter around his neck, teeth biting down into her bottom lip as she thrusts up against him.

He keeps his movements slow and unhurried at first, hands on the bed holding him upright as he shallowly thrusts in and out of her wet heat. She's making these noises, little moans and sighs of his name, and she's enjoying this, that much is obvious, but Haymitch wants to see her fall apart again, wants her to reach that peak and lose control beneath him, and so after a few minutes he draws back so that he's on his knees, arms hooking under her thighs and hands coming to rest at her hips, pulling her forward so that her ass is resting against his thighs and her hips are tilted slightly upwards towards him.

When he enters her again, one long thrust so that his cock is buried to the hilt inside of her wetness, it's immediately apparent that the change in angle has been one of his better ideas, as Effie's breath catches audibly and her mouth drops open again.

He shifts her thighs upwards slightly, not bothering to stifle his moan when he feels her tighten around him, and then he withdraws almost completely, waiting a beat of a second before slipping back inside her, and the noise she makes is unlike anything he's ever heard from her before, her eyes fluttering shut and jaw trembling as her nails rake lightly against his chest in a move that has his own eyes closing momentarily before opening to focus on her.

Haymitch thinks she's possibly the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life; face and body bare before him, skin flushed and covered with a light sheen of sweat, her stomach muscles twitching slightly as he slides in and out of her. He wants to carry on with his teasing strokes; wants to stretch this out for as long as he possibly can, bringing her to the edge over and over again before he lets her hit that peak. But his body is still weakened from the withdrawal and he thinks he can probably only go a few more minutes on his knees before he has to change positions, lest he collapse.

Tightening his grip on her hips, Haymitch gives a deep thrust that has her crying out below him, his tempo increasing as he groans out "Touch yourself, please?" and he can hear the pleading tone of his voice but he can't bring himself to care how he sounds at this moment in time, focusing instead on Effie, and the way her head is tipped back, neck exposed and breasts bouncing slightly as his cock moves within her.

He half expects her to refuse, her body already so open and on display before him but he's blown away when she not only brings a hand down to rub against her clit, but also lets her other hand trail up her stomach and cup her breast, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger before releasing and flicking against it lightly.

He watches her for as long as he can; watches the way she touches herself, the way her thumb slides against her swollen clit as his cock continues its slide in and out, but then his knees start to protest at holding his weight for so long, and he pitches forward, arms and elbows resting on the bed alongside her head as he leans over her and lets his mouth settle against hers. His fingers fist in her hair as his cock drives into her, and he's fucking her hard now, his hips pounding against her and he's lost the ability to hold back, can't hold back, not when she's so tight and hot and he thinks that maybe he wants to feel this every day for the rest of his life.

She's close, he can tell from the way she's clenching around him and moaning into his mouth, her hand moving jerkily against her clit where it's trapped between them, and Haymitch can feel his own climax approaching, and he's damned if he's going to come before she does.

"Come, Eff. I need you to come for me, please," he groans against her lips, and the movement of her hand against her clit intensifies as he thrusts into her deeply, and he wants to tell her she's beautiful, wants so much to tell her that she's all he'll ever need, but his lips won't form the words and then suddenly she's coming, back arching as she lets out a strangled moan of his name, and Haymitch is dimly aware that the bed frame is scraping against the floor, and if someone were to walk past right now they'd know exactly what's going on in here but he can't stop, and when he spills himself inside of her, he does so with a shout of her name.

Their movements slow until they come to a stop, mouths still pressed together softly, and when he breaks away and gasps out "You...I..." before faltering, Effie seems to understand and cuts him off with a kiss, lips brushing tenderly against him as she whispers "later."

Haymitch rolls off her, not wanting to crush her with his weight and she rolls with him, legs tangling together and lips moving against each other in a languid kiss as she settles against his side, and Haymitch wishes he had some of her positivity right now.

There may not be a later; he knows that and he thinks that deep down, Effie must know it too. She'd come here after all, laid her feelings on the line in front of him as if she had nothing left to lose. So she must know there's a possibility of no tomorrow.

But for now they're here, and Haymitch can almost pretend they're the only ones. And when tomorrow night comes, and for as many nights that they're in this District, she'll be here.

And that's enough.