THG Fic: "Yes" (Haymitch/Johanna, R)
For the District Five (power play) prompt at Wicked Winter.
Chars: Haymitch/Johanna
Title: "Yes". (Apparently to counter my long M'n'S titles, I'm now going for sheer brevity)
Rating: R. Hide the small children.
Warnings: Vague refs to more extreme D/s aspects in the past in the context of forced prostitution
Spoilers: Pretty much none.
When it came to figuring whose job it was take the lead here in crossing that one off the list, he looked at Johanna with an amused expression. “Wait, you’re not just jumping to take it? You really want me bossing you around?” he said, that smirk crossing his face. “Really?”
“Hey, I figured it was only fair since I’m the boss of you almost all the time,” she taunted.
He let out a derisive snort at that. “Like hell you are, darlin’. We both know you never wanted someone who just lets you walk all over him. Too boring.”
“So?” she drawled the word out, gesturing for him to go on. The pause finally got awkward, neither of them in a hurry to step up, too many memories of roles they’d been forced to play. “If it’s too much…” she said finally, almost hesitantly. He thought about how fucked up her own role had been, all domination and pain, and thought maybe she wasn’t ready to try to skirt the edge of that. Not yet. Maybe he wasn’t ready to run the risk of what might happen there either, given he had plenty of hurts and humiliations to remember. It was all too tangled up still, so it was safer for him to take the lead on this. His role had been less violent, he’d done it longer, though given how burned out he’d gotten on playing the arrogant seducer over and over, he’d really been fine to just let her be the one generally moving things along since she tended to be the eagerly impatient one most of the time anyway.
“Too much still to ask you to do it, I think,” he said frankly, seeing she didn’t disagree. “So we’ll try.” That was all either of them could ever ask. “Go head upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.” It came out too casual, he heard it. “Wait for me,” and there it was, the subtle pressure of a command, soft rather than barked, but a command all the same rather than a request. Carefully opening that door, he really wasn’t quite sure what he’d find inside. She heard it too, and for a moment she hesitated, but then turned to go.
She paused with her hand on the doorframe and said, “Don’t keep me waiting too long.” Pushing right back against him, which was classic Johanna, but not defying him, which was new. He shook his head, smiling to himself. That wasn’t how this game worked, as he remembered it. Still…she wasn’t his patrons.
He took a minute to finish the last of his coffee and headed up the stairs after her. She was standing in front of the window, arms folded over her chest. “So?” she said, and he could tell she was deliberately trying to provoke him to cover her own uncertainties.
“So we’ll stop this any little interlude any time you decide to not do as I say,” he told her, the words coming out with that old velvet edge. Back then it had been a veiled threat: obey or I’ll leave and you won’t get off. He’d seen how they squirmed in excitement at that. Now, though, he made it more of a promise: if you don’t want to do anything, we’ll stop. “So shall we begin?”
“Your wish is my command,” she snarked at him.
Kicking off his shoes, sitting down on the bed and leaning back against the headboard, he said, testing it out, trying to carefully delve back into that mindset without diving too deep, “Always so mouthy. But I’m in charge today, so let’s try a little experiment. There are only four words I want to hear from you until I tell you otherwise. Yes, no, please, and more.” He almost added Stop but that didn’t have to be said, she knew those were always an option between them, because that word, and no, always meant exactly that to the two of them, no pretend bullshit.
She cocked one eyebrow and he could see her expression was caught between amusement and wanting to tell him off. He was surprised to see a faint stirring of excitement there in her eyes alongside some trepidation. “Agreed?” She could stop this right here. She could say no and they would shelve this idea for another day.
Taking in a deep breath, she said, “Yes.” Defiant, almost proud in how she said it, so utterly Johanna as she pushed on ahead, determined to be brave and test the waters. It caught him with both a sense of tenderness and arousal at the same time.
“All right then. Come here.” He patted the bed beside him. Half expecting a protest of But sitting beside you on a bed, that’s hardly proper, he was ready to issue it as a command. He was startled to realize he was falling back into the old rut, because they’d always wanted to play helpless and reluctant and innocent, gasping in mock outrage every step of the way. Protesting with every button he undid, every kiss he gave, trembling not in supposed fear but arousal, lost in the fantasy of their objections being overpowered and seduced away by an experienced, arrogant man.
He’d been screwing even people far too old for that game, forty-year-olds who along with their face lifts and fat suctions wanted to feel young by always playing the ignorant childlike virgin, and he’d been so fucking sick of it, of being made to pretend he was the one with all the power when he was really the one with none. It got the point where even his sole moment of rebelliousness in being able to say, I want you to fuck yourself, silently adding the necessary go in there, hadn’t elicited that dark, cynical amusement any longer. It was just another step in a script.
This wasn’t like that. As she took a step towards him, her eyes were steady on his, still trusting him. He held up a hand. “Changed my mind.” Get away from that fucking script, he thought. But with her somehow it was becoming easier to imagine that because she was nothing like them, she was looking at him with steadiness and confidence rather than fake ignorance. He looked at her, standing there near the foot of the bed. “Take off your clothes.” He smirked. “You always did have a talent for stripping, as I remember.” He said it lightly, though, so she would know it was meant in affection rather than as a cruel reminder.
She let out a quick laugh at that, and her fingers went to the first button of her shirt, slipping it loose from the buttonhole. The collar gapped just a little, showing a bit more of her skin. She waited, hands on the next button, waited until he was about ready to tell her to undo it, and she smirked back at him when she obviously saw it on his face, deftly undoing that one. He’d given the order, true, but she was choosing the pace, teasing him with the slow agony of it. He could tell her to go faster, but he decided not to do that. Better to let her keep some control of things here, better to let her keep that look of enjoyment on her face. And really, he was enjoying the subtle pushing back. She’d listen but unless he specified things she would follow his orders on her own terms, and he felt an odd rush of mingled pride and pleasure at that. He wanted her to still be Johanna, not a puppet.
Leisurely, unhurried, she let the shirt slide from her shoulders down to the floor and toyed with the button on her jeans. She looked up at him, cocked an eyebrow as if to ask, These next?
“All your clothes,” he said softly. He watched as she shed the rest of it and then stood there in the morning sunlight without any shred of awkwardness or modesty. Looking up at her face, he told her gruffly, “Lovely.” He caught her quick smile. “Come lie down.”
She stretched out on her back, looking up at him, a hint of impatience on her face. He knew given the chance she’d probably just be urging him to come over and fuck her already.
“Want to stop?” he asked.
She thought about it and shook her head. “No.” There was a look of determination on her face, daring him to test her further. He thought about that a moment himself, how to work with it. She never wanted him to go easy on her.
“Raise your hands. Over your head.” Hesitating only a moment, she did it. “Keep ‘em up there until I say otherwise.” He wouldn’t grab, wouldn’t pin her hands; he could only imagine how she must have had it done to her by other men. Still, the sight of her lying there, waiting for him to make the move, brought more of that dual feeling, the desire to cherish her trust in him even as he really wanted to fuck her. Moving closer, he asked her, “Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” She looked at him with that smirk, giving a faint roll of her eyes, and he realized he’d slipped up. Given that she had only four words to work with, she couldn’t tell him, though the fact she didn’t break away from what they had going and just start speaking her mind told him she was still OK and enjoying this. Though that made him realize, startled, he’d stepped enough away from the old role, the overdone arrogance and the voice and all the bullshit of it, he hadn’t even seen that misstep. It hadn’t felt like the tired burden of having to deliberately boss every single aspect of someone protesting the entire way, it had been just him and her, a delight rather than a chore. What she gave to him now with that trust, she gave out of joy and confidence. “Here?” he asked, pressing two fingers to her lips.
She nipped them lightly, her tongue against his skin for a moment. “Yes.”
He leaned down to oblige, kissing her, feeling her respond to it with eagerness. It took him a moment to realize one hand was on his shoulder to grip him, the other tangling in his hair, because it felt so damn good and normal. Then he remembered. Raising his head, he told her, “I thought I said to keep your hands up?”
Her expression said, Make me, because I know you liked that. “Hands up again or we stop.” With a low grunt of frustration, she reluctantly put her hands back up again. “There we go.” He kissed her again.
By the time he finished with that he was enjoying the chance to stretch this out as long as he liked. Usually trying to make her take it really slow took catching her in a particular mood where he could coax her into it. But she still wasn’t calling a halt. He touched her breast next, fingertip circling one nipple, feeling it respond and form a hard peak. “How about here?”
“Yes.” She arched her back into it, though he was gratified to see her hands stayed where they belonged.
“The other one too?”
“Yes,” and she was getting louder and more impatient with that. So he gave her what she wanted there, kissing and suckling and feeling the way she responded to it, her body trembling and rising against his mouth as she urged him, “More.”
“More here?” He delicately laved one nipple with his tongue and looked up at her.
She hesitated, a look of vaguely irritated confusion on her face as she said, “Yes?” He pretty much interpreted to mean she wouldn’t turn it down, no, but that wasn’t exactly what she was after. She didn’t have a good way to phrase it and she couldn’t grab his hand and show him-which meant it was up to him to ask it so she could tell him.
Fortunately he had a pretty good idea. “Ah. I know what you want.” He slipped his hand between her legs, feeling that she was more than wet already there. His fingertip gently brushed her clit and she moved her hips against his hand, seeking more. “Here?”
“Yes,” and if that didn’t sound downright enthusiastic to his ears in a way he couldn’t help but respond to, he didn’t know what did.
“You want me to kiss you here?” Just to tease her a little, he gave her another slow stroke, feeling her try to follow the contact of it.
“Yes,” the word was a drawn out hiss between her teeth. Sliding down her body, he bent his head to the task, hearing the way her breath caught just before a low groan as his tongue touched her, the taste of her all sweet and salt and musk.
At one point he glanced up to see her fingers were gripping the headboard for dear life, but she didn’t ever drop her hands, not even when she shuddered and cried out as he felt the first pulses of her pleasure.
Breathing hard himself, he looked up at her face, her eyes watching him with the fever-bright daze of pleasure, and asked, his voice a bit rough, “You want me to fuck you?” He had to ask, had to hear her say it, though he admitted it was as much for his own desire as for the reassurance of hearing her affirm that in this situation. He’d never had the chance to just ask this where it felt right rather than awkward. Usually he would have figured it would end with her giving a snort of amusement and saying, No, Haymitch, I’m naked and rubbing up against you like this because I really want you to read me the fucking newspaper.
Her brown eyes were locked on his, seeing him, wanting him. “Yes,” she said it softly. That did it. One simple little Yes was about the most erotic thing he’d ever heard her say, the power of that almost stunning to him. With the fierce need to be inside her about thirty seconds ago, he undressed as hastily as she had slowly. He leaned down to kiss her again, knowing she could taste herself on his lips, as he pushed inside her and felt her hips rise against his in welcome, settling him in.
But it wasn’t quite right. He glanced up at her hands, clutched in the pillow now where he’d insisted she keep them so she wouldn’t reach down and touch him or grab him. She’d given him the upper hand, but she’d made him work for it, and fuck, it had felt so good to find another way of playfully testing each other, and in doing so, pushing each other beyond the boundaries of what they’d previously thought they could handle. He hadn’t played a part with her at all, hadn’t been what he’d feared, and he had taken the power she gave him and hadn’t misused it either.
Now, though, he didn’t want anything of her held back from him by his own commands. What they did as foreplay was one thing, damn fine as it had been, but in the intimacy of this moment, he wanted them to be equals without restraint. Maybe he actually needed it that way. “Talk to me,” he told her. “Put your hands on me. Do whatever you want to do.” Releasing her, he could see the recognition of that freedom on her face, the relief and the joy as she wrapped her arms around him, tugged him down to her and kissed him fiercely.
“Now will you please just hurry up and fuck me?” she whispered in his ear.
Impatient as ever, he thought with a laugh, though he whispered back, “Yes.”
Chars: Haymitch/Johanna
Title: "Yes". (Apparently to counter my long M'n'S titles, I'm now going for sheer brevity)
Rating: R. Hide the small children.
Warnings: Vague refs to more extreme D/s aspects in the past in the context of forced prostitution
Spoilers: Pretty much none.
When it came to figuring whose job it was take the lead here in crossing that one off the list, he looked at Johanna with an amused expression. “Wait, you’re not just jumping to take it? You really want me bossing you around?” he said, that smirk crossing his face. “Really?”
“Hey, I figured it was only fair since I’m the boss of you almost all the time,” she taunted.
He let out a derisive snort at that. “Like hell you are, darlin’. We both know you never wanted someone who just lets you walk all over him. Too boring.”
“So?” she drawled the word out, gesturing for him to go on. The pause finally got awkward, neither of them in a hurry to step up, too many memories of roles they’d been forced to play. “If it’s too much…” she said finally, almost hesitantly. He thought about how fucked up her own role had been, all domination and pain, and thought maybe she wasn’t ready to try to skirt the edge of that. Not yet. Maybe he wasn’t ready to run the risk of what might happen there either, given he had plenty of hurts and humiliations to remember. It was all too tangled up still, so it was safer for him to take the lead on this. His role had been less violent, he’d done it longer, though given how burned out he’d gotten on playing the arrogant seducer over and over, he’d really been fine to just let her be the one generally moving things along since she tended to be the eagerly impatient one most of the time anyway.
“Too much still to ask you to do it, I think,” he said frankly, seeing she didn’t disagree. “So we’ll try.” That was all either of them could ever ask. “Go head upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.” It came out too casual, he heard it. “Wait for me,” and there it was, the subtle pressure of a command, soft rather than barked, but a command all the same rather than a request. Carefully opening that door, he really wasn’t quite sure what he’d find inside. She heard it too, and for a moment she hesitated, but then turned to go.
She paused with her hand on the doorframe and said, “Don’t keep me waiting too long.” Pushing right back against him, which was classic Johanna, but not defying him, which was new. He shook his head, smiling to himself. That wasn’t how this game worked, as he remembered it. Still…she wasn’t his patrons.
He took a minute to finish the last of his coffee and headed up the stairs after her. She was standing in front of the window, arms folded over her chest. “So?” she said, and he could tell she was deliberately trying to provoke him to cover her own uncertainties.
“So we’ll stop this any little interlude any time you decide to not do as I say,” he told her, the words coming out with that old velvet edge. Back then it had been a veiled threat: obey or I’ll leave and you won’t get off. He’d seen how they squirmed in excitement at that. Now, though, he made it more of a promise: if you don’t want to do anything, we’ll stop. “So shall we begin?”
“Your wish is my command,” she snarked at him.
Kicking off his shoes, sitting down on the bed and leaning back against the headboard, he said, testing it out, trying to carefully delve back into that mindset without diving too deep, “Always so mouthy. But I’m in charge today, so let’s try a little experiment. There are only four words I want to hear from you until I tell you otherwise. Yes, no, please, and more.” He almost added Stop but that didn’t have to be said, she knew those were always an option between them, because that word, and no, always meant exactly that to the two of them, no pretend bullshit.
She cocked one eyebrow and he could see her expression was caught between amusement and wanting to tell him off. He was surprised to see a faint stirring of excitement there in her eyes alongside some trepidation. “Agreed?” She could stop this right here. She could say no and they would shelve this idea for another day.
Taking in a deep breath, she said, “Yes.” Defiant, almost proud in how she said it, so utterly Johanna as she pushed on ahead, determined to be brave and test the waters. It caught him with both a sense of tenderness and arousal at the same time.
“All right then. Come here.” He patted the bed beside him. Half expecting a protest of But sitting beside you on a bed, that’s hardly proper, he was ready to issue it as a command. He was startled to realize he was falling back into the old rut, because they’d always wanted to play helpless and reluctant and innocent, gasping in mock outrage every step of the way. Protesting with every button he undid, every kiss he gave, trembling not in supposed fear but arousal, lost in the fantasy of their objections being overpowered and seduced away by an experienced, arrogant man.
He’d been screwing even people far too old for that game, forty-year-olds who along with their face lifts and fat suctions wanted to feel young by always playing the ignorant childlike virgin, and he’d been so fucking sick of it, of being made to pretend he was the one with all the power when he was really the one with none. It got the point where even his sole moment of rebelliousness in being able to say, I want you to fuck yourself, silently adding the necessary go in there, hadn’t elicited that dark, cynical amusement any longer. It was just another step in a script.
This wasn’t like that. As she took a step towards him, her eyes were steady on his, still trusting him. He held up a hand. “Changed my mind.” Get away from that fucking script, he thought. But with her somehow it was becoming easier to imagine that because she was nothing like them, she was looking at him with steadiness and confidence rather than fake ignorance. He looked at her, standing there near the foot of the bed. “Take off your clothes.” He smirked. “You always did have a talent for stripping, as I remember.” He said it lightly, though, so she would know it was meant in affection rather than as a cruel reminder.
She let out a quick laugh at that, and her fingers went to the first button of her shirt, slipping it loose from the buttonhole. The collar gapped just a little, showing a bit more of her skin. She waited, hands on the next button, waited until he was about ready to tell her to undo it, and she smirked back at him when she obviously saw it on his face, deftly undoing that one. He’d given the order, true, but she was choosing the pace, teasing him with the slow agony of it. He could tell her to go faster, but he decided not to do that. Better to let her keep some control of things here, better to let her keep that look of enjoyment on her face. And really, he was enjoying the subtle pushing back. She’d listen but unless he specified things she would follow his orders on her own terms, and he felt an odd rush of mingled pride and pleasure at that. He wanted her to still be Johanna, not a puppet.
Leisurely, unhurried, she let the shirt slide from her shoulders down to the floor and toyed with the button on her jeans. She looked up at him, cocked an eyebrow as if to ask, These next?
“All your clothes,” he said softly. He watched as she shed the rest of it and then stood there in the morning sunlight without any shred of awkwardness or modesty. Looking up at her face, he told her gruffly, “Lovely.” He caught her quick smile. “Come lie down.”
She stretched out on her back, looking up at him, a hint of impatience on her face. He knew given the chance she’d probably just be urging him to come over and fuck her already.
“Want to stop?” he asked.
She thought about it and shook her head. “No.” There was a look of determination on her face, daring him to test her further. He thought about that a moment himself, how to work with it. She never wanted him to go easy on her.
“Raise your hands. Over your head.” Hesitating only a moment, she did it. “Keep ‘em up there until I say otherwise.” He wouldn’t grab, wouldn’t pin her hands; he could only imagine how she must have had it done to her by other men. Still, the sight of her lying there, waiting for him to make the move, brought more of that dual feeling, the desire to cherish her trust in him even as he really wanted to fuck her. Moving closer, he asked her, “Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” She looked at him with that smirk, giving a faint roll of her eyes, and he realized he’d slipped up. Given that she had only four words to work with, she couldn’t tell him, though the fact she didn’t break away from what they had going and just start speaking her mind told him she was still OK and enjoying this. Though that made him realize, startled, he’d stepped enough away from the old role, the overdone arrogance and the voice and all the bullshit of it, he hadn’t even seen that misstep. It hadn’t felt like the tired burden of having to deliberately boss every single aspect of someone protesting the entire way, it had been just him and her, a delight rather than a chore. What she gave to him now with that trust, she gave out of joy and confidence. “Here?” he asked, pressing two fingers to her lips.
She nipped them lightly, her tongue against his skin for a moment. “Yes.”
He leaned down to oblige, kissing her, feeling her respond to it with eagerness. It took him a moment to realize one hand was on his shoulder to grip him, the other tangling in his hair, because it felt so damn good and normal. Then he remembered. Raising his head, he told her, “I thought I said to keep your hands up?”
Her expression said, Make me, because I know you liked that. “Hands up again or we stop.” With a low grunt of frustration, she reluctantly put her hands back up again. “There we go.” He kissed her again.
By the time he finished with that he was enjoying the chance to stretch this out as long as he liked. Usually trying to make her take it really slow took catching her in a particular mood where he could coax her into it. But she still wasn’t calling a halt. He touched her breast next, fingertip circling one nipple, feeling it respond and form a hard peak. “How about here?”
“Yes.” She arched her back into it, though he was gratified to see her hands stayed where they belonged.
“The other one too?”
“Yes,” and she was getting louder and more impatient with that. So he gave her what she wanted there, kissing and suckling and feeling the way she responded to it, her body trembling and rising against his mouth as she urged him, “More.”
“More here?” He delicately laved one nipple with his tongue and looked up at her.
She hesitated, a look of vaguely irritated confusion on her face as she said, “Yes?” He pretty much interpreted to mean she wouldn’t turn it down, no, but that wasn’t exactly what she was after. She didn’t have a good way to phrase it and she couldn’t grab his hand and show him-which meant it was up to him to ask it so she could tell him.
Fortunately he had a pretty good idea. “Ah. I know what you want.” He slipped his hand between her legs, feeling that she was more than wet already there. His fingertip gently brushed her clit and she moved her hips against his hand, seeking more. “Here?”
“Yes,” and if that didn’t sound downright enthusiastic to his ears in a way he couldn’t help but respond to, he didn’t know what did.
“You want me to kiss you here?” Just to tease her a little, he gave her another slow stroke, feeling her try to follow the contact of it.
“Yes,” the word was a drawn out hiss between her teeth. Sliding down her body, he bent his head to the task, hearing the way her breath caught just before a low groan as his tongue touched her, the taste of her all sweet and salt and musk.
At one point he glanced up to see her fingers were gripping the headboard for dear life, but she didn’t ever drop her hands, not even when she shuddered and cried out as he felt the first pulses of her pleasure.
Breathing hard himself, he looked up at her face, her eyes watching him with the fever-bright daze of pleasure, and asked, his voice a bit rough, “You want me to fuck you?” He had to ask, had to hear her say it, though he admitted it was as much for his own desire as for the reassurance of hearing her affirm that in this situation. He’d never had the chance to just ask this where it felt right rather than awkward. Usually he would have figured it would end with her giving a snort of amusement and saying, No, Haymitch, I’m naked and rubbing up against you like this because I really want you to read me the fucking newspaper.
Her brown eyes were locked on his, seeing him, wanting him. “Yes,” she said it softly. That did it. One simple little Yes was about the most erotic thing he’d ever heard her say, the power of that almost stunning to him. With the fierce need to be inside her about thirty seconds ago, he undressed as hastily as she had slowly. He leaned down to kiss her again, knowing she could taste herself on his lips, as he pushed inside her and felt her hips rise against his in welcome, settling him in.
But it wasn’t quite right. He glanced up at her hands, clutched in the pillow now where he’d insisted she keep them so she wouldn’t reach down and touch him or grab him. She’d given him the upper hand, but she’d made him work for it, and fuck, it had felt so good to find another way of playfully testing each other, and in doing so, pushing each other beyond the boundaries of what they’d previously thought they could handle. He hadn’t played a part with her at all, hadn’t been what he’d feared, and he had taken the power she gave him and hadn’t misused it either.
Now, though, he didn’t want anything of her held back from him by his own commands. What they did as foreplay was one thing, damn fine as it had been, but in the intimacy of this moment, he wanted them to be equals without restraint. Maybe he actually needed it that way. “Talk to me,” he told her. “Put your hands on me. Do whatever you want to do.” Releasing her, he could see the recognition of that freedom on her face, the relief and the joy as she wrapped her arms around him, tugged him down to her and kissed him fiercely.
“Now will you please just hurry up and fuck me?” she whispered in his ear.
Impatient as ever, he thought with a laugh, though he whispered back, “Yes.”