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wistfulcynic · 5 years

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Another Brick In The Wall: Chapter 8

a/n: Effusive thanks to @hollyethecurious for the artwork! I love it so much! Thanks also to everyone for reading, commenting, kudos-ing, and reblogging! I'm so pleased by the way people have been engaging with this story. Love you all xxx

Summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with.

Rating: T

Tags for: @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 and @resident-of-storybrooke

Chapter 8:

Killian was out of school for a week, for a “mental health break” he called it with a chuckle, apparently a term he’d gotten from Dr Hopper. He saw the psychiatrist daily during this break and spent the rest of his time at the harbour with Liam, working on their boat, reading, playing his guitar, and talking with his brother about everything that had happened.

“We’ve hashed it all out in excruciating detail,” he told Emma as they sat together in the boat’s cabin, she working on her college essays while he practiced a new song. “It’s such a relief to be able to really talk to Liam again. There was a time when we had no secrets between us. He showed me all the information he had collected on Milah and her situation. Apparently her divorce is almost finalised and next month she’s starting a job teaching English in Japan.” He smiled. “She’ll like that, a chance to travel. What she always wanted.”

“Hmmmph,” said Emma, glaring at the screen of her laptop as she typed rapidly.

“Swan,” he admonished, giving her a mock scowl as he strummed a chord at her.

Emma slammed her hands down on the keyboard. “Killian, I just don’t know how you can be so forgiving after what she did to you.”

He set the guitar aside and his expression became serious. “I have to be, don’t you see?” he asked, looking at her intently. “I can’t hold on to my anger or it will eat me alive. I didn’t even realise how angry I was until Dr Hopper helped me see it, and how by not acknowledging it, allowing myself to feel it, and then letting it go, I was only hurting myself. Besides, I did genuinely care about Milah, and I’m glad she’s finally in a place where she can be happy.”

“Hmmmmph.” Emma concentrated on deleting the gibberish she’d produced by her attack on the keyboard.

“A place that doesn’t include me,” said Killian brightly, picking up the guitar again and plucking out a cheery tune. “That’s good, isn’t it Swan?”

“I suppose so,” she grumbled. “Though I’d still prefer if the place was dark and scary and full of nettles.” He laughed heartily at that and she couldn’t hold back an answering smile. “Hey, I’m nearly done with this, will you read it over and make sure it’s okay? Just check my grammar and punctuation and stuff.”

“Of course, love, though I’m sure it’s already brilliant.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Freed from the weight of his worry and guilt, Killian gradually began to smile more easily, and his witty, teasing nature (“cheeky git,” Liam called him, his voice irritated but with a relief so profound it bordered on joy in his eyes) came more readily to the fore. When he returned to school the following Monday, he moved through the halls with a swagger that Emma had never seen on him before. Unlike the arrogant, bullying one that Neal always had Killian’s evoked a simple self-assurance that she had to concede looked really good on him. Despite how much emotional baggage he still had to work through he clearly wasn’t burdened by shame anymore, and equally clearly did not intend to take any crap from anyone.

This made itself evident that morning when he shut his locker and turned towards his first class, only to find himself confronted by Felix and Rufio.

“Really, chaps?” he said, raising an eyebrow at them. “You couldn’t even wait until after school so you could chuck me into the bins, like proper high school bullies?”

This mockery went clean over the other boys’ heads, and they continued to block his path, trying to look intimidating while also trying not to be intimidated by Killian’s calm demeanor and his amused expression.

Felix, the sligtly cleverer of the two, suspected he was being laughed at but couldn’t put his finger on why. He didn’t like it.

Bristling, he sneered at Killian. “Bet you think you’ve won,” he snarled. “Now that Neal’s in jail and out of the way. Now you can move in on Emma like you did on that—” he broke off as Killian stepped into his space. There wasn’t much difference in height between them, but somehow Felix had the impression of Killian towering over him, his face calm but his eyes darkly furious, and for once in his life he felt a stab of genuine fear.

“I’m only going to say this once,” growled Killian in the new, lower register his voice had taken on more often of late, “So you’d better listen carefully. Your mate Neal is a criminal, and not even a good one. He’s in jail because he’s stupid, and that’s nothing to do with me. I have no doubt it’s where he’d always have ended up eventually. Bit of advice: If you’re going to steal confidential information, don’t take pictures of the evidence on your phone, and definitely don’t then show those pictures to the sheriff’s daughter. Neal got what he deserved. I now consider this matter closed, and if you or anyone else—” he raised his voice so that the rapidly assmbling crowd of onlookers could all hear, “—tries to take it any further, you will not care for the repercussions.”

Felix wasn’t sure what “repercussions” were, but the hint of repressed violence in Killian’s manner made him keen not to find out. He had always been content to follow Neal, less out of respect for the other boy than a simple unwillingness to make a thing out of Neal’s belligerent insistence that he should be the one in charge, but he’d always sensed that there wasn’t much substance underneath Neal’s bluster. Killian however didn’t bluster. He simply stated facts, and Felix could tell that he was not the sort of person to make a threat he couldn’t back up with action. Perhaps it was time to step out of Neal’s shadow, thought Felix, and take over leadership of their little gang. He certainly couldn’t do a worse job of it than Neal had, and escalating a pointless conflict with a guy who looked prepared to fight dirty if necessary was much more Neal’s style than Felix’s. He nodded at Killian, and stepped back. Rufio looked surprised but followed his lead.

Killian nodded back then transferred his glare to the crowd of onlookers, which had grown considerably in the past thirty seconds and now included Emma and Ruby, he could see out of the corner of his eye. “As for what you may have heard about me,” he said, loudly enough for all to hear. “It’s all true.” He smirked for a moment as a gasp went through the crowd, then his expression hardened. “It’s also no one’s business but mine, and those in whom I choose to confide. This is all I have to say on the subject. Now, if you’ll all excuse me I don’t wish to be late for class.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder and headed down the hall, turning his head briefly to shoot Emma a wink. People moved aside to let him pass and as soon as he had turned the corner furious whispering erupted in his wake.

Ruby pursed her lips. “I may have underestimated him,” she remarked.

Emma’s heart was pounding, a familiar occurrence where Killian was concerned, but this time it felt different. She’d been worried about how he would react to the ineveitable curiosity and questions from their classmates, but this smooth handling of a potentially explosive situation instead of calming her fears instead filled her with the wild desire to run after him, to fling herself into his arms and kiss them both breathless.

“He’s just so wonderful,” she sighed, and Ruby laughed.

“Down, girl,” she teased. “I’ll grant you this one’s worth your time, unlike the douchemaster general, but remember we’re in school. No one wants to see that.”

Emma rolled her eyes and gave her friend a shove, but the butterflies continued rhumba-ing around her insides, this time accompanied by an odd, hollow sort of ache as she remembered her resolution not to pursue Killian anymore. She was now all but certain that she loved him, that beyond the hot, tingly sensation she always felt in his presence lay a profound devotion. She would do anything for him, sacrifice anything to give him what he needed, and that terrified her. For the first time in her life Emma felt vulnerable, exposed, as though her chest were torn open and her heart lain bare to the mercies of fate and one gorgeous, troubled boy. She hated it. Even knowing that Killian would never intentionally hurt her was no consolation when the truth was that he could hurt her simply by caring deeply for her as a friend. If that was all she could ever have from him she would take it, she knew, without pushing for more, but it would be a wound on her heart that would never heal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He’s a bully,” shrugged Killian at lunchtime, when Emma, this time accompanied by a very inquisitive Ruby, found him in the library. “Bullies are just cowards at their core, and cowards are easy to intimidate. He won’t do anything because he won’t want to call my bluff. I might not be able to back it up but he’ll be too scared to risk finding out.”

“And what would you have done if he had called your bluff?” inquired Ruby.

Killian shrugged again. “Probably got the shit kicked out of me.”

“Would you have, though?” Ruby pressed, watching him through narrowed eyes.

He returned her stare with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “There were two of them to only one of me. Seems inevitable.”

“Does it?” Ruby’s disbelief was almost palpable, and having fenced with Killian for months now Emma shared her friend’s suspicion that he was deliberately underplaying his fighting skills.

“Let’s hope we never have to find out,” said Killian with a small smile, in a tone of voice that made it clear he would answer no more questions on the subject. “I quite like my face arranged the way it is.”

“It is a nice face,” said Ruby with a wolfish grin that widened as Killian’s ears turned pink. “But I didn’t come here just to flatter you. Victor asked me to ask you if he could have your phone number.”

“My number?” Killian blinked in surprise.

“Yeah, there’s some concert in Portland and he doesn’t have anyone to go with and he thought you might be interested.”

“Um, sure, I guess.” Killian rattled off the number and Ruby sent Victor a text. A minute later his phone buzzed and he looked at it, snorting as he read the message. “Bit of a wanker, your boyfriend,” he remarked to Ruby.

“I don’t know what that is but I’m somehow sure that Victor is one,” smirked Ruby. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“Not at all, I’m rather fond of wankers,” said Killian absently as he typed his reply. “My brother is one, after all.” His phone buzzed again almost instantly and he raised an eyebrow at what he read on it.

“Ems, I think maybe we should leave the boys to their chat,” said Ruby, and as much as she hated to sacrifice free time with Killian, from the way he was fixated on his phone, his expression almost gleeful as he typed rapidly, Emma had to admit she was probably right.

“Okay,” she said. “See you in class in a few minutes, Killian. And maybe hang out after school?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I have an appointment with Dr Hopper at four, but I can text you when I’m done.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him but his attention was back on his phone, so she followed Ruby out of the library trying not to feel too disgruntled. Killian should have other friends, she told herelf firmly, male ones who shared his interests. That was normal, and he could use some normal in his life right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few weeks, things at school settled back into a routine, albeit one that was markedly different than it had been. Neal had been officially arrested after David’s investigation, charged with burglary, theft, and theft of a medical record, and was facing up to five years in prison. His parents had put up their house as collateral to pay his bail, but weren’t allowing him to return to school.

“Not much point when he’ll just go straight back to the slammer after he’s sentenced,” said Ruby viciously. “So much for that football scholarship he was so cocky about.”

Emma tried to find some compassion for Neal and what was basically the wreck and ruin of his future, but couldn’t dredge up a single particle of it. He had committed several felonies for no other reason than to stick it to Killian for outsmarting him and for becoming her friend, and he’d committed them flagrantly and with no thought to the consequences. He’d probably thought there wouldn’t be any consequences. Killian was right: Neal deserved everything that was coming to him, if only for being so colossally, arrogantly stupid.

People still whispered about Killian as he walked through the halls but true to character he paid little attention. He did, however, gradually began to open up more and allow more of himself to show through his defences, willingly participating in classes and talking to people other than Emma and Ruby. By the time finals week arrived had actually made a few friends.

Killian reflected wryly that in a twisted sort of way Neal had done him a favour. With all his secrets now out on the open he was free to embrace the opportunity for a new life he’d found in Storybrooke. Not that there had been anything particularly wrong with the old life, at least since his father had finally left. He’d been a mean old drunk, Brennan Jones, and by the time he’d been forced to flee his creditors for good, stealing a boat from Bristol harbour and melting into the offshore underworld, his sons had been glad to see the back of him. Killian thought about what he himself had been like back then, before Milah, and even though it had only been about a year since he’d first become involved with her so much had changed both in his circumstances and in himself, he feared that hopeful, enthusiastic boy was lost forever. Who exactly had taken his place was the question Killian had asked himself daily for weeks now, and he still wasn’t sure how to answer it. He’d become so used to holding everything in, to keeping such a tight rein on his thoughts and feelings that letting them out, accepting that it was okay to express them had become almost unbelievably difficult. The only person he felt even remotely comfortable being fully himself with aside from Liam was Emma, whose support and friendship remained unwavering as he bumbled and struggled thorough the reclamation of his life, and he remained intensely grateful for it.

Only one thing about Emma troubled him-- that she no longer seemed to be interested in anything beyond his friendship. All the little hints and cues she had been giving him since they’d met were suddenly gone, and while he was relieved to be free of the added stress of constantly resisting something that part of him desperately wanted, he couldn’t help wondering if there was a darker motivation for this abrupt about-face. Perhaps, whispered an evil little voice in his head, Emma was actually more disgusted by his past than she let on and was simply too kind to tell him directly. Maybe the thought of him touching her turned her stomach now. He certainly couldn’t blame her if it did.

“What do you want from your relationship with Emma?” asked Dr Hopper one afternoon, after Killian had finally brought himself to mention the change in her behaviour. “Do you want it to be romantic?”

Killian frowned, struggling to sort through the complex tangle of his feelings about and for Emma. “I don’t want a romantic relationship with anyone,” he said finally. “I still feel too messed up for anything like that. But I— I’m still really attracted to her. I think about her all the time, about how we kissed at her party, and I want to kiss her again pretty much constantly, but then I remember Milah and how I thought I felt about her, and I just—”

“You don’t trust your judgement.”

“Yeah.”

“Killian, it’s important for you to remember that you have a much more equal relationship with Emma than you ever did with Milah.”

“Equal, with Emma?” Killian snorted. “You have met her, right?”

Dr Hopper smiled patiently. “I understand that you feel she’s beyond your reach, and that’s a separate issue, but what I mean by equal is that she’s your age and at your stage of life. With Milah you were constantly struggling to relate to her life and her experiences, and when you couldn’t you attempted to make up for that by offering her the affection and sexual attention she craved. You forced yourself to offer these things even though you didn’t genuinely feel them because you feared the consequences of not offering them. But with Emma there is no need to manufacture anything. She is placing no demands on you and therefore any attraction and affection you feel for her is genuine.”

“But what should I do about it?”

“Why should you have to do anything? You said you’re not ready for a romantic relationship, and that’s fine. Let yourself heal. The process is slow and frustrating, but believe me you are making progress. Let your feelings for Emma and your relationship with her develop at a pace that is comfortable for you. From what you’ve said it sounds like she will still be there when, if, you’re ready for more.”

“It’s more than likely she no longer wants more. And even if she did, what happens when she meets someone who isn’t so hopelessly fucked up? Then where does that leave me?”

“Why don’t you worry about that if —not when— it happens?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the last day before winter break, Emma nervously approached Killian’s locker and handed him an invitation to her parents’ annual Christmas party addressed to him and Liam.

“It’s just a thing they do every year for their friends and our neighbours,” she began to ramble as he examined the card, certain he would refuse and wanting to delay that painful moment. “My mom loves to entertain, and my dad says it’s good for building a rapport between law enforcement and the community, and—”

“Swan,” interrupted Killian, giving her that soft, indulgent look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I’m sure we’d love to attend. Thank you for inviting us.”

The butterflies soared in a grand jeté, and she felt like she was flying with them. “Great,” she said trying to keep her voice calm, “I guess I’ll see you then.”

Her delighted smile made his breath catch, and his answering grin set her heart galloping. Their eyes met and held, and as the end of semester chaos whirled around them they stood a breath apart, swathed in frustrated yearning and brittle tension, the only two people in the world.

Then the final bell rang, and they leapt apart, Emma smoothing her skirt with shaking hands while Killian ran his own trembling fingers through his hair.

“So, onion rings at Granny’s?” ventured Emma, wanting to kick herself for making him nervous again, after all her resolutions, hoping desperately he wouldn’t pull away.

Killian sighed in relief, tinged with a hint of disappointment. Granny’s was safe. “Sounds perfect, love,” he said.

#cs au ff #high school au #teenage captain swan #captain duckling #lieutenant duckling #another brick in the wall #profdanglaisstuff

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years

Note

prompt: the guys take haymitch to a strip club, but he doesnt like it and just wants to go home and be with effie, so he does ( you can make it smut if you want)

I did want xD Get ready for the crack crappy smut ‘cause I still can’t write that but watch me try [X]

Striptease

Effie glanced up at the clock when she heardthe chime of the elevator and made a face before quickly crushing the bud ofher cigarette in the ashtray. It was early still, much earlier than Haymitchusually came back. She barely had time to feel around her purse for the smallbottle of perfume and to spray some in the air to mask the odor of tobacco –she didn’t fancy a lecture on smoking that night. The ashtray was deftly hiddenunder a magazine.

When her victor stumbled in the room, itappeared as though she was filing her nails.

“Busy night, I see.” he mocked, going straightfor the liquor cart.

“Haven’t you had enough?” she rebuked,wrinkling her nose. “Where were you? You smell… even worse than usual.”

And it was putting it mildly. He smelt like sweatand smoke and liquor.

“Strip club.” he mumbled, pouring himself awhiskey. “Chaff and Jo’s great idea.”

She wasn’t quick enough to hide her annoyanceand he lifted his eyebrows at the irritated look she shot him. She filed hernail harder – and she would have to make an appointment at the beauty parlorthe next day because she was ruiningher manicure – focusing on the task rather than on him.

“I see.” she huffed. “I won’t ask if you hadfun then, will I? I do hope you werediscreet at least. It won’t do for Twelve’s good name to be dragged in the mudbecause its victor visits houses of ill-repute.”

He chuckled, perching himself on the armrest ofthe couch instead of properly sitting next to her. “Twelve’s got no good nameand I said strip club not brothel… Might have been a special orderon the menu though. Can’t say. I left when the dancers became too friendly.” Hecoiled his free hand around the back of her neck, squeezing once. “Why the longface, sweetheart… You’re jealous?”

“Hardly.” she huffed, shrugging his hand off.“Why did you leave then?”

“Don’t like having women on my lap.” hesnorted. “Even if they’re naked and ready for the taking.”

The image he was describing made her blood boilfor exactly no good reason at all. She snatched the glass of whiskey from hishand and stood up, storming to the window and taking a sip of the liquor. Itdid nothing to cool her temper. She hatedwhiskey – so obviously it had to behis poison of choice.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” he smirked and herirritation grew when she realized he was amusedby her reaction. “Don’t like the idea of me looking at pretty young nakedthings? Should have seen them, sweetheart… Perky breasts, tight nipples… Firmasses… And the legs…”

“Will you stop?” she snapped. “I have nointerest in listening to this. You are a pig.”

And the idea of him doing exactly that, of him watching women wrigglingand writhing in front of him, begging for his attention…

“Maybe.” he granted, dropping in the seat shehad just vacated. “You’re going to giveme my booze back?”

“No.” she declared, taking a pointed sip fromhis glass. “You do not deserve it.”

Damn him, his smirk and his twinklingeyes.

He knewshe was annoyed and he also knew whyalthough the reason would remain unvoiced and unaddressed as usual. There werethings too dangerous to be acknowledged. As long as they could pretend…

“You’ve got the best ass this side of thecountry.” he said, almost placating. “Didn’t see a better one.”

“This side of the country?” she repeated with ahuff. “Haymitch, I have been elected sexiest woman of the year, three years ina row. I do think I look a littlebetter than mere strippers.”

He chuckled. “What year was that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and he lifted hishands in a defensive gesture. He was in a good mood, she observed, and shewondered what exactly had happened at that club.

“Are you sure you did not enjoy it?” she asked,trying to keep the ice out of her voice because she had no business policinghim. He was free to enjoy whatever he wanted to enjoy and to do whatever hewanted to do.

“Enjoyed the view for a while.” he admittedwith a shrug. “Then it got boring. It’s like foreplay with no actual… You know.”

A little assuaged by that, she took another sipof whiskey. “You are not fond of foreplay.”

“Depends with whom.” he smirked. “Can’t say Iwouldn’t like you stripping for me…”

“I do not think you deserved that either.” she commented.

He tilted his head to the side and watched her,the smirk deepening a little. “Kept my hands to myself.”

“Common decency is hardly a feat worth atreat.” she declared, finishing the liquor and abandoning the glass on a tablenext to a vase for the Avoxes to clean up.

“Kept imaging it was you in front of me…” hecontinued, his voice dropping to a rough tone that always made her a little aroused – not that she wouldadmit that much. “Say, you can do the stuff on the pole?”

“Since there is no pole in the penthouse, youare unlikely to find out.” she hummed – and immediately put it on her to-dolist to take some discreet classes because one could not have too many skills.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you since that girltried to rub her ass on me.” he told her.

It was crass. And awful. And she shouldn’t havebeen as arousing as she found it to be.

“Let me make sure I understand…” she growled.“I should let you take me to bed because you are turned on by another womantrying to seduce you?”

He slumped a little on the couch, his gaze byfar too knowing. “Lose the wig.”

His voice wasn’t as much teasing as commandingnow and her automatic response was to lick her lips. “I am not playing thisgame, Haymitch.”

They stared at each other steadily for a whileand the certainty she read in his eyes angered her. He was convinced she wouldcave.

“Lose the wig.” he repeated.

“Not until you learn proper manners.” sheretorted. “Say please and I mightconsider it.”

“You don’t want proper manners.” he mocked.“You want to be fucked so hard you can’t think anymore.”

“You are so vulgar.” she scoffed with openloathing.

“And it makes you so wet.” he taunted.

“Do not talk to me like I am a stripper or aprostitute.” she hissed. “I am a lady and I will not…”

“You’re no lady, sweetheart.” he cut her off.“Cause ladies don’t get off being fucked from behind the way you do…” The smirkwas back, cocky and smug. “Maybe I’ll take you that way tonight… Bent over thecouch… You’d like that?”

She probably would. And wasn’t that anirritating thought?

“You won’t take me at all.” she scowled. “Youhave annoyed me. I am not your sex toy.”

She folded her arms over her chest and glaredat him.

“Lose the wig.” he demanded again.

“Say please.”she challenged right back.

Amusement flickered on his face. “You’realready soaked, yeah?”

“Just like you are already hard, I suppose.”she dismissed, because it was of little consequence how aroused they both were,the only thing that mattered was who would win this particular verbal spar. Shedidn’t mind giving up eventually because he did like to be in charge and sheloved how dominant he could be but she didn’t like the assumption that shewould simply hand power over like it was a given. She liked the struggle forcontrol. She liked the fight.

He studied her for a moment and then shrugged.“Please, lose the wig, sweetheart.”

“Muchbetter.” she beamed, quickly pulling pins out and letting them ping on thefloor.

Soon, the wig joined the pins and she tousledher natural curls, crushing down her insecurities. Any other man in the Capitoland she would have been mortified by her plain blond hair but Haymitch… Hisgaze darkened and he licked his lips because her hair, for some reason, was animmediate turn on to him.

“The dress now.” he commanded.

For a second, she almost made him ask politelyfor it once more but then she forgot the thought. It wouldn’t be as fun. Shecould wriggle the power back later.

She unzipped the dress and let the purple silkflop to the floor, slowly stepping out of the pool of fabric. She stood there,proud and victorious, offering herself to his hungry stare. She was wearing acorset and matching navy blue panties embroidered with golden arabesques. Sheknew she looked amazing and it made her feel powerful. The way he looked at hermade her feel powerful.

It wasn’t the healthiest, what they were doing. And often she thought they shouldstop while they were ahead. But sex was a drug of its own, just like his liquoror her cigarettes. It made them crazy and weak for each other. She simply couldn’t resist.

She brushed the tip of her fingers along theswell of her breast, looking straight at him. “Should I take the corset off ordo you want to do it yourself?”

She made it sound innocent and he growled, hisright hand falling between his legs. It was cheating, she wanted to argue,because she wanted to do that herselfbut she couldn’t deny she enjoyed the thought of him touching himself becauseshe was just… too much.

“Do it.” he said.

The corset was tied on the front and she made ashow of undoing the knot and then on pulling on the laces, going very slowly. He squeezed himself withevery new flash of creamy white skin and when the corset dropped at her feet,he was obviously flushed. He chucked his waistcoat away and unbuttoned hisshirt.

“Don’t.” she warned when he moved to open hispants. “That’s mine.”

He snorted and then shrugged. “Then come andget it.”

“But I have clothes on still.” she hummed.“This is a complete striptease.”

He shot her a look that let her know he knew what she was doing and he didn’tenjoy having the power stolen back like that.

“Panties off.” he demanded anyway.

She strode closer, swinging her hips, thegolden bangles on her wrist clinging together with every step. He opened hislegs for her without her having to ask and she stepped in between them, herintent clear. His hands briefly rested at the back of her thighs and thenroamed up to knead her ass.

“Take them off.” she requested. “With yourteeth.”

“Bossy.” he commented.

“Do you want me bent over the couch or not?”she challenged, lifting an eyebrow.

She hadn’t been expecting the small slap on herass and so she startled and yelped. Haymitch simply smirked. “I’m in charge,sweetheart.”

“Aren’t you always?” she replied innocently.“Now, pull my panties down. With your teeth.”

He wasn’t delicate when his mouth closed on thewaistband of her panties and she almost regretted that particular idea becauseshe was rather fond of that underwear set. Of course, she stopped secondguessing when his nose nuzzled her mound on his way down. With the pantiesstuck around her thighs, preventing her from fleeing, he forced her legs apartand, before she could say anything, his tongue was poking at her core.

“Haymitch.” she breathed out, all thought oftheir game deserting her mind. There was a more pressing concern: pleasure.

“Like I said…” he chuckled between her thighs.“I’m in charge.”

His tongue was too talented for his own good.

When he stopped torturing her, her legs wereshaking, she was gripping his shoulders so tight her nails had probably leftcrescent shaped marks on his skin and she was far too gone to think. He had taken her to the brink andhe had left her hanging.

She barely registered when he slid herunderwear off or pulled her down so she would straddle his lap.

“My heels…” she reminded him.

“Leave them on.” he mumbled.

“I thought you did not like women sitting onyou.” was the only gibe she could muster and it was muttered under her breath becauseshe was too busy rubbing herself on him, trying to create friction, to find release.

It didn’t take a long time for him to be ready.When he pushed her off his lap, she got into position without being told, herstomach wedged on the armrest, her legs spread as wide as she could. She heardthe zip of his pants and the ruffling of fabric, she felt him move in akneeling position behind her and she closed her eyes in anticipation.

He didn’t touch her at once and it was evenbetter.

He teased her.

Breathing down her back…

Kissing and nipping at her spine…

Kneading her ass…

When he finally thrust into her, it took her bysurprise and she gasped in pleasure.

Of course, it also prompted him to bend overher, face pressed against her lower back to muffle his chuckles. She didn’tcare. At that point, the only thing she cared about was triggering her climax.She sneaked a hand between her legs but Haymitch grabbed it and trapped it atthe small of her back. He grabbed her other wrist and held it secure too.

“Don’t cheat, sweetheart.” he teased. “You wantsomething, you beg for it.”

“No.” she protested with the last shred ofsanity she had.

He gave one powerful thrust and she whimpered.Another and she was wriggling, trying to rub herself against the leatherarmrest of the couch. She got another small slap on her ass for her troubles.

“None of that.” he growled. “What do you want,Effie?”

The use of her name was a rare one. He usuallypreferred pet names. And in that context…

“Fuckme.” she breathed out. “Please, fuckme.”

“Why, Princess…” he mocked. “You only had toask.”

The thrusts were deep and brutal and she lovedevery moment of it. The whimpers turned to screams without her truly realizingit, she had no control over her body or what was going out of her mouth – encouragements, pleas and threats alike.

When she came, she came hard, slumping over the armrest without a care, the upper part ofher body dangling down. She didn’t even notice when he found his release, onlyrealizing he was done when he pulled her back properly on the couch. There wasa sticky mess between her legs but she didn’t even care, she was bone deepexhausted for all the right reasons and so she laid on the couch on her back,panting a little, naked except for her high heels. Haymitch was sitting next toher hip, still half undressed, pants around his knees, watching her, pantingtoo.

“He’s a fool.” he muttered suddenly.

“Who?” she asked, rolling on her side so thathe would have enough room to lie down if he so wished. They didn’t cuddle but, sometimes, he would allowthem to ride the afterglow together. She loved it more than she should have.

He didlie down but not before kicking his pants and his shirt off properly. It wasbetter that way. She got to snuggle close to his naked body.

“Chaff.” he sighed. “Thought those girls weresexy… Clearly, he hasn’t met you.”

“If you are saying I ruined you for otherwomen, don’t expect me to apologize.” she teased. “I am simply that exceptional.”

He snorted but turned his head so his nosewould be buried in her hair. His hand ran up and down her side for a moment andthen wandered down to her bottom, rubbing the spot he had slapped twice.

“You did not hurt me.” she hummed. “Do notfret.”

“I ain’t.” he scorned.

“I would have your head on a plate if you had,you know that.” she insisted. “I am not helpless. Everything I do with you, Ifully consent to.”

“I know.” he granted. “Not sure it’s quiteclever of you, but I know.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder anddid her best to just enjoy the instant. Peaceful moments were too fleetingduring the Games.

Next year, she thought… She would find a way tosneak a pole in the penthouse.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #games time #coconuts #crack #hbic effie #effie & cigarettes #coconuts friends #jealousy

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