Push-Pull-Bang
Title: Push-Pull-Bang
Author: l3petitemort
Pairing/Characters: Percy/Ginny
Prompt: greed & wrath (and throw in some lust for good measure!)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 499
Warnings: Incest. Rough sex & possible chan-ish-ness, I suppose.
Notes: This was written for Weasleycest Weekend over at hp_cestfest! Yayyyy!
"Ginny," he says, his eyes dark behind his glasses, white-knuckled hands gripping the side of the chair like it's going to save him.
(It's not.)
Percy's using his Prefect voice. Ginny likes it. She reads the warning in it, and it goes straight between her legs and makes her pulse race. Better than a broom-ride. Better than too much firewhiskey and not enough sleep. Better than the stomach-lurch-push-pull-bang of Apparition.
She makes up her mind right then that she's going to push him until he slaps her and calls her a greedy little whore. Then she's going to suck his cock with her split lips to show him that he's right.
(He is.)
For years when she was small, Ginny would follow no one's directions but his. It infuriated her mother; amused Bill; befuddled the twins, but Percy's word was Law. Sometimes, it still is.
When she was old enough to know better, she crawled into his bed without an invitation. He was hard enough to crucify her and she was wet enough to drown him, and the more he said get off the more she did, scratching and pulling and biting until he finally smacked her and she gasped like she was being fucked. And then she was, right into the mattress that used to be Charlie's, too hard to be safe. Afterwards she stretched across him, murmuring tell me I'm a good girl.
(He did.)
She says it again now, sliding a hand up her skirt while he watches with a cautious, smouldering wrath. "Tell me I'm a good girl."
She leans against the table, pulls one knee up, spreads her legs.
"Am I, Percy?"
By the time she's got three fingers knuckle-deep, he's standing and the chair is shaking under his hands and Ginny can barely keep her eyes open because she can feel him from here, his energy like a hex on her nerves, and she doesn't want to come before he gives in.
(She doesn't.)
She doesn't get to suck his cock, because when he can't take it anymore he grabs her and spins her around and fucks her with her knickers pulled sideways, her hipbones bruising against the table-edge, one hand on her collar like she's being dragged to detention, the other leaving a ferocious purple mark along her thigh.
Sometimes she thinks she could come just from his voice, that growl of authority when he says come on, but he's always fingering her, too, so she never knows for sure. This time, he pulls out and uses the head of his cock to bring her off, bumping roughly against her clit until she howls and shudders, and that's where he comes, too, right against her: hot, silent, and messy.
Spent, he pushes his forehead into her neck and kisses her, and it's chaste like it should be. For a second, shame flares up around them, but he snuffs it out when he whispers, "I love you, good girl."
(He does. She is.)
Author: l3petitemort
Pairing/Characters: Percy/Ginny
Prompt: greed & wrath (and throw in some lust for good measure!)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 499
Warnings: Incest. Rough sex & possible chan-ish-ness, I suppose.
Notes: This was written for Weasleycest Weekend over at hp_cestfest! Yayyyy!
"Ginny," he says, his eyes dark behind his glasses, white-knuckled hands gripping the side of the chair like it's going to save him.
(It's not.)
Percy's using his Prefect voice. Ginny likes it. She reads the warning in it, and it goes straight between her legs and makes her pulse race. Better than a broom-ride. Better than too much firewhiskey and not enough sleep. Better than the stomach-lurch-push-pull-bang of Apparition.
She makes up her mind right then that she's going to push him until he slaps her and calls her a greedy little whore. Then she's going to suck his cock with her split lips to show him that he's right.
(He is.)
For years when she was small, Ginny would follow no one's directions but his. It infuriated her mother; amused Bill; befuddled the twins, but Percy's word was Law. Sometimes, it still is.
When she was old enough to know better, she crawled into his bed without an invitation. He was hard enough to crucify her and she was wet enough to drown him, and the more he said get off the more she did, scratching and pulling and biting until he finally smacked her and she gasped like she was being fucked. And then she was, right into the mattress that used to be Charlie's, too hard to be safe. Afterwards she stretched across him, murmuring tell me I'm a good girl.
(He did.)
She says it again now, sliding a hand up her skirt while he watches with a cautious, smouldering wrath. "Tell me I'm a good girl."
She leans against the table, pulls one knee up, spreads her legs.
"Am I, Percy?"
By the time she's got three fingers knuckle-deep, he's standing and the chair is shaking under his hands and Ginny can barely keep her eyes open because she can feel him from here, his energy like a hex on her nerves, and she doesn't want to come before he gives in.
(She doesn't.)
She doesn't get to suck his cock, because when he can't take it anymore he grabs her and spins her around and fucks her with her knickers pulled sideways, her hipbones bruising against the table-edge, one hand on her collar like she's being dragged to detention, the other leaving a ferocious purple mark along her thigh.
Sometimes she thinks she could come just from his voice, that growl of authority when he says come on, but he's always fingering her, too, so she never knows for sure. This time, he pulls out and uses the head of his cock to bring her off, bumping roughly against her clit until she howls and shudders, and that's where he comes, too, right against her: hot, silent, and messy.
Spent, he pushes his forehead into her neck and kisses her, and it's chaste like it should be. For a second, shame flares up around them, but he snuffs it out when he whispers, "I love you, good girl."
(He does. She is.)