Just ask me
Inspired by this wonderful prompt I received from @mercuryinvenus!
3,276 words
Haymitch Abernathy x Reader
No use of y/n, but second person perspective
Warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, occasional swearing, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, very fluffy smut with a little bit of angst at the beginning
This was supposed to be a short one-shot but I got carried away...
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Things between you and Haymitch were complicated. You liked him, you really did, but every time you made a move, he became awkward. The irritating thing was that you knew that he cared for you too. On more than a few occasions, you had fallen asleep with your limbs entwined, trying to keep one another’s demons at bay. You gravitated towards each other at social occasions and found yourselves calling each other from your respective districts just to hear the other talk. A few times, you had kissed him, but he always pulled away too soon and had this sort of guilty look in his eyes which made you uncomfortable.
You and Haymitch were sat on the damp grass as far away from the raucous of yet another Capitol party. Your client had only paid until midnight, and now it was one in the morning, and you were free to mingle as you pleased. “How long do you think these stars have been up there for?” You asked, nudging his foot with yours. “I don’t know.” he replied. “A few thousand years? I’ve heard that they’re so far away that by the time their light reaches us, they’ve already died.” “That’s some sort of poetic metaphor just waiting to be overused.” You replied, crossing your legs and turning to face him. “Yeah, I guess so.” Haymitch mused, turning to face you, too. He looked at you properly for the first time all evening. The part of you that liked him would have felt self-conscious in another life, but you had got so used to people admiring your body that it didn’t phase you. “You want my jacket?” He asked, somewhat out of the blue. You frowned a little. He had done this once before when you had met him after seeing a client. It wasn’t cold, and you couldn’t work out whether it was supposed to be some sort of romantic gesture or whether he felt uncomfortable that you wore such a revealing outfit. Nevertheless, you nodded, fearing that he would feel hurt if the former was true.
Haymitch removed his jacket and leant over to you, draping it around your shoulders and buttoning it over your chest. He just looked too perfect under the soft light of the full moon, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him. It was a soft, tentative kiss. His lips were warm and a little chapped. You forced yourself to savour the few seconds of contact before he pulled away, as usual, avoiding eye contact with you. “Is everything okay?” You asked. “Yeah,” he replied, still avoiding eye contact with you, “it’s just getting late. Maybe we should head home.” “Oh,” you replied, a little hurt. “Yeah, I guess so.”
~~~
Three weeks had passed since the last time you had seen Haymitch. He knew you were coming to District 12. You hadn’t explicitly told him why, but it was easy enough for him to guess. It had been a horrendous few days. You had been sent on loan as a gift to the District’s Head Peacekeeper for whatever reason, and he had allowed you to be shared amongst his highest-ranking officers. The only silver lining was that your request to remain for a few days in District 12 to recover had been approved.
You knocked on Haymitch’s door, suitcase in hand, feeling physically and emotionally drained. Before you had even finished knocking, the door swung open and Haymitch pulled you into a tight embrace. His sweater was soft against your cheek, and he smelled comforting. He held you for a while, his chin resting on top of your head. You breathed deeply, the tension leaving seeping out of your body the longer his arms were around you.
“I drew you a bath.” He stated, breaking the silence. You leant back, but he kept his arms around your waist. “Thought it might help you relax.” He continued, failing to conceal his concerned expression. “Thank you.” You replied. You felt touched that he seemed to know exactly what you would need.
Haymitch took your suitcase and led you to an upstairs bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. He brought your case inside, then left swiftly, muttering, “let me know if you need anything,” before quickly shutting the door behind himself and leaving you alone. You thought his behaviour was a little strange but brushed it off - Haymitch was always a little strange with you.
Making your way into the bathroom, you couldn’t suppress the smile which had plastered itself across your face. The room was warm, steam dancing in tendrils above the water. Lavender bubbles, the kind you could usually only find in luxurious hotels in the Capitol, floated on the surface of the water, the room was dimly lit by dozens of candles, and a tall glass of a deep purple liquid perched on the edge of the tub.
You quickly stripped yourself of your clothes and sunk into the warm water, feeling your muscles immediately begin to relax. You reclined backwards and took the glass from the edge of the tub, taking a sip and smiling again. The only other time you had visited District 12 was on your victory tour. You had told Haymitch years ago that the best thing you consumed on that tour was the juice he had made you from wild blackberries which grew on an unkempt bush in his garden. Now, four years later, he had remembered your compliment and made you the same juice.
You spent a long time in the bath, and by the time you had drained the tub, re-dressed in pyjamas and braided your wet hair down your back, you felt relaxed for the first time in days. You made your way downstairs and found Haymitch on his sofa, pulled close to the fire in his hearth. He noticed you and opened his arms. You gladly accepted his invitation and curled up on his lap, your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for that,” you began once you had settled, “it was exactly what I needed.” “It was nothing, really.” Haymitch insisted. You knew it wasn’t nothing. You knew that he had cleaned and tidied his house for you, which was a big deal because he barely looked after himself when you weren’t around. He had gone to a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable.
After a few moments, you noticed that there wasn’t an alcoholic drink in sight. Come to think of it, his breath didn’t smell of alcohol either. It occurred to you that, for the first time since you had met him, he was actually sober. You couldn’t articulate the feeling that bloomed inside you as you realised this. It was warm, but also something like giddiness. Haymitch had gone to all this effort for you.
Without thinking, you shifted in Haymitch’s lap and pressed your lips against his. At first, he kissed you back, but after a few seconds, he pulled away. He slipped his arm beneath your legs and lifted you off his lap, depositing you a few inches away from him on the sofa. “Why do you always pull away?” You asked before you could stop yourself, your hurt getting the better of you. Haymitch seemed taken aback. “What do you mean?” He asked, avoiding eye contact with you. You swivelled to face him, deciding that now was as good a time as any to have this conversation. He was sober, after all. “I mean, every time I kiss you, you pull away and act all guilty. I’m getting mixed signals because it feels like you like me, but you won’t let me kiss you.”
There, it was all out in the open. A pained expression passed over Haymitch’s features. He was quiet for a moment, before murmuring, “I don’t want to be as bad as the men who use you.” You frowned for a second, digesting his confession. “Why would kissing me put you on the same level as my clients?” Haymitch winced as you called them your clients. “I guess I don’t think you’d want anything physical after… you know.” He replied quietly. Your expression softened. “Haymitch,” you sighed, smiling, “you’re not like them at all. I’m not with you because I’m forced to. I want to be here. And if we do anything physical, I’d hope it’s because we both want to.” Again, Haymitch was quiet for a few seconds. “I just don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, or make you think about times where you’re forced to do things you don’t want to do.” You smiled even wider and climbed back into his lap, this time straddling his hips and cupping his face in your hands. “Haymitch Abernathy, I like you, and I would like to engage in all manner of physical intimacies with you, if you would also like that.” Haymitch smiled a little, then frowned again. “How do I know if you want something, or if you’re just too scared to tell me that you don’t want something?” You smiled even harder. God, he was perfect. “Just ask me.” You replied. Haymitch took a moment to think, then his expression softened. “Can I kiss you?” He asked. “You can.” You replied, leaning into him. For the first time, Haymitch initiated a kiss, and didn’t pull away. It was soft, but you could also feel his desperation as the kiss became sloppier the longer it lasted. You realised that he must have been holding himself back for a long time.
Eventually, Haymitch broke the kiss. His cheeks were flushed, his lips a little puffier than usual, and his pupils blown wide. “Can I take you upstairs?” He asked, his breath warm against your lips. You nodded your consent, and he slipped his hands underneath you, lifting you off the sofa as he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his middle, and Haymitch resumed kissing you, stumbling up the stairs and down the corridor into his bedroom. He sat you on the edge of his bed, and knelt between your legs, his lips still attached to yours. You needed more. You pulled at the hem of his shirt until he realised what you wanted and reached over his head, removing the garment in one swift movement. As he did so, you removed your own shirt, leaving you completely naked from the waist up. Haymitch sat on his heels and you both eyed each other. He was beautiful. Broad shoulders, strong arms, a soft stomach, a light dusting of hair over his chest and down his stomach to the waistband of his trousers. He was staring at your bare chest, and for the first time since you had won your Games, the sight didn’t turn your stomach. In fact, you felt your underwear becoming damp with your arousal. He wasn’t looking at you like you were something to own or conquer, he was looking at you with love.
You reached out and grabbed Haymitch, pulling him close to you again. He let you take his hands and place them on your breasts but removed one hand once his mouth met yours again and instead snaked it around your back, pulling you as close as possible to him. You were growing impatient and broke the kiss to stand up in front of him and remove your pyjama shorts and underwear. You ran your hands through his hair as he looked up at you, eyes full of adoration. You could sense that he was holding back. “What is it?” You asked, gently. Haymitch was breathing heavily. “I want to taste you.” He stated, voice low. A bolt of arousal shot straight to your core. In your four years of being pimped out, for lack of appropriate euphemism, you had never slept with a man who was interested in pleasuring you. Evidently, Haymitch misinterpreted your silence for discomfort as he quickly added, “only if you want me to, though.” “Yes!” You managed to blurt out, leaning down to kiss him again. You felt Haymitch’s lips twist into a smile against yours. Gently, he gripped your hips and guided you to sit back on the edge of his bed. He slowly pushed your thighs open and began to pepper little kisses from your knee all the way up the inside of your thigh. He paused when he reached your core, and you heard the quietest of moans escape his lips as he sat back and looked at how wet you were. He locked eyes with you, and with a flat tongue, licked a thick stripe from your hole to your clit. Immediately, you let out a loud moan and one of your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tightly. It was unlike anything you had felt before. He repeated the motion a few times before focusing in on your clit. At first, he licked at it slowly, letting you get used to the feeling and watching your face contort in pleasure. After a while, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, which earned him even louder moans and a grip on his hair so tight you weren’t sure how he wasn’t in pain. Briefly, he detached his lips from you to ask, “this okay?” You nodded in response, your eyes screwed shut. “Need to hear you say it.” He pressed. You forced yourself to open your eyes and the sight of him kneeling between your parted thighs, the lower half of his face glistening with your arousal, almost made you come. “Yes!” You breathed, “please keep going.” You tugged at his hair, shoving his face back between your thighs. Haymitch complied, sucking a little harder this time and beginning to flick his tongue over your clit inside his mouth. It was bliss. It took barely a few seconds of this new sensation before you were coming on his tongue. Haymitch lapped up your arousal, and you groaned. You had never been this aroused in your entire life.
Once he had finished cleaning you up with his tongue, Haymitch knelt up again, bringing his face back up to yours and kissing you softly. “Was that okay?” He asked.
“It was more than okay.” You replied, smiling so hard your cheeks were beginning to hurt. “Do you want to go any further?” He pressed. Again, this was a first. Even though you could tell from a brief look at his crotch that he definitely wanted to go further, there was no implication in his tone that he did. That brief look was enough to make you want all of him. “I do.” You replied, fingers raking through his hair. He was so goddamned pretty. “How can I make sure you’re comfortable?” He asked. You pondered this for a moment. You had never really considered what it would take for you to actually feel comfortable having sex. “Keep talking to me.” You decided. Haymitch nodded. “And make sure I can see you. People usually want me bent over or with my face in a pillow or whatever, so I think I’d like to be able to see you the whole time.” “I’m sure that can be arranged.” Haymitch replied, making you laugh a little.
Haymitch kissed you again, softly and sweetly. You felt as if your heart might actually explode. He was so careful with you - so loving and gentle and so different from anyone you had been with before. He pulled away and stood up, motioning for you to shuffle back on the bed. You did so, and lay down with your head resting on soft pillows. “Want me to take my pants off now?” He asked. “Please.” You replied, mouth watering as you imagined what rested beneath the fabric. Haymitch complied, unbuttoning, unzipping, and finally dropping his pants to the floor and stepping out of them. He was big. Not so big that it would hurt, but big enough that it had you clenching around nothing, desperate for it inside you. Haymitch chuckled a little when he noticed you staring. He crawled on top of you and placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. He kissed you again and slowly began to rub his cock against your arousal. “This okay?” He asked. “Yes!” You replied quickly, making him chuckle again. Your hips bucked upwards involuntarily as the tip of his cock poked your clit. Haymitch leant down, bringing his lips close to your ear. “Do you want me inside you?” He whispered. You shuddered. “Please.” You replied. You seemed only to be able to reply with one-word answers, but in your current situation who could blame you?
With your consent, Haymitch reached over to his nightstand, grabbed a condom and rolled it on, then slowly pressed himself into you. His face was barely inches above yours, and he made sure to hold eye contact with you as he did so. It was quite possibly one of the hottest things you had ever experienced. The two of you groaned in unison as your tight walls swallowed him up. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He murmured, his words making you clench around him. “Want me to start moving?” He asked as your hips began to buck again. “Yeah.” You whined, struggling to wait any longer. Haymitch complied and began to slowly thrust in and out of you. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around your waist and your legs around his middle, pulling you impossible close to him. As he began to speed up his movements, he pressed his forehead to yours. You had had a lot of sex, but this was something else entirely. This was intimate. It wasn’t just sex, Haymitch was making love to you, as you had heard one of your friends refer to it as once. You hadn’t understood then, but you did now.
Haymitch shifted a little, and his cock pressed into a spot you had only ever found by yourself. You moaned particularly loudly. “That spot feel good?” He asked. You nodded. “Want me to keep hitting it?” You nodded more vigorously, moaning loudly again when he began to repeatedly hit that same spot inside you. The more he hit it, the closer you came to coming again. You were almost there, when Haymitch groaned. “I’m gonna come soon,” he began, “do you want me to?” He asked. “Yes,” you replied, breathily, “just don’t stop, please.” Haymitch moaned at your words and his movements became more frantic. You felt your walls begin to spasm around him, and you felt Haymitch twitch inside you. As your orgasm began to wash over you, Haymitch groaned and came inside the condom. He continued to thrust into you, helping you to ride out your orgasm. When your walls had finally stopped contracting around him, he stilled. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” He warned. You nodded, letting him pull out of you. Haymitch lay down beside you and pulled you into him, kissing you softly. “Was that okay?” He asked. “More than okay.” You replied, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.
You lay like that for a while. At some point, Haymitch got up to discard of the condom and bring you a glass of water as you pulled on his shirt and made yourself comfy under his duvet, and you ended the evening falling asleep curled up together in his bed. You had known that you wanted a physical relationship with Haymitch, but what you hadn’t realised was that he would show you that sex could actually be something enjoyable and safe.
