Prompt: Character A to Character B, "You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?"

Warning— this is very, very explicit. Please don't read if you don't like smut!

"You shouldn't be here, Mr. Hawthorne." The Mayor's eyes met Gale's steely gaze over the corner of a newspaper. They were alone in the Mayor's office but that didn't mean their conversation would remain private. Nothing in politics ever stayed private. The Mayor casually thumbed to the next page. "Your presence has the potential to be… detrimental to my campaign."

"And that's all you care about, isn't it? Your campaign?" Gale let the door fall shut behind him, trapping them both in the the office. Or rather, trapping him in the office with one very dangerous public servant. It was just the two of them and the 4 walls, which eagerly listened for the slightest hint of scandal. Politics in District 12 was a dirty business full of people with gleaming, white smiles and blood-stained hands. It was all made even dirtier by the gloomy coal dust in the air.

Gale held the Mayor's gaze and approached the heavy oak desk. He was confident in his steps, too confident for the Mayor's comfort. In Mayor Undersee's opinion, the son of a coal-miner had no business being so self-assured in the presence of old money and an even older family name. But that didn't stop Gale Hawthorne. Other people's opinions seldom did. It seemed like nothing would ever stop him. The man was a force of nature, raging at the pillars of secrets and lies which bolstered the roofs of the high-society homes. He was a storm, howling at the windows of the Mayor's office. Like his namesake, Gale thundered and crashed, dismantling the archaic institutions, brick by brick.

As far as the Mayor was concerned, Hawthorne needed to be stopped.

Gale entered the Mayor's sanctum and glanced at what deep-pockets could buy.

Apparently quite a lot.

Everything screamed money. Bronze (probably real bronze) light fixtures, glowing warm with dim, golden light; dense, emerald-green rugs sprawled across glossy wood; and most importantly, paintings of old white men (probably all long-dead) hanging on the walls. Cold, marble-hard faces glaring down at him with disapproving eyes. Yet somehow, the most severe pair of eyes in the room belonged to the person sitting on the other side of the desk.

Gale supposed that the decor was specifically chosen to make wealthy people feel at home, but for someone like Gale, someone who didn't come from money, it was the furthest thing from home. He had the strangest thought that when he died, his personal hell would feel very similar to this.

"I am not ashamed to admit that I am concerned about my campaign, Mr. Hawthorne." The Mayor replied casually, snapping the newspaper closed and folding it into a sharp-edged rectangle. "So it would be best if you leave."

"Can't. We have a lot to discuss."

"I'm afraid this just isn't a very good time." The Mayor remained seated as if the desk could ward off the unwanted questions.

Gale could feel the Mayor's judgmental gaze on his coal-stained cuffs. He briefly thought of the crisp white button-down hanging from his bathroom door and was instantly glad that he hadn't gone through the effort to change. He was proud of the work he did, even if it left smudges on his shirts and an ache in his back, and he wasn't going to let some fat-cat politician shame him into presenting a false image. And if the evidence of hard work happened to make the politician uncomfortable, well then that was just the cherry on top.

"From where I'm standing, Mayor Undersee, this looks like the best time." Gale dropped into the seat across from the Mayor's desk and very deliberately leaned back, making himself comfortable in the stiff-backed chair. "It's becoming very difficult to get ahold of you." He reached across the desk and fished a campaign button from a decorative crystal jar. 'Undersee-The People's Choice'. Overall, it was a surprisingly tame token to represent such a mercenary individual. But Gale considered the old-fashioned button. It was deeply reminiscent of a bygone era of camera-ready politicians who made dirty deals in exchange for support. A time when the poor stayed poor and the rich got richer. Maybe it was an appropriate symbol for the Mayor's vision, after all.

He imagined that many people looked at it and remembered a scrubbed-up version of the past. Anyone who looked beneath the surface, however, saw the truth- rivers of filth flowing through the veins of the elite.

"What can I say? My supporters demand my attention." The Mayor shrugged away any accusation in Gale's tone. "I would think someone like you would appreciate a politician who appeals to the masses."

"You don't appeal to the masses. I highly doubt you've ever even met 'the masses'." Gale scoffed and tossed the button in the Mayor's direction. They both watched as it skittered across the desk to an uneasy halt.

"Well I'm sitting here with you, aren't I? And according to the miners' union, the papers and my advisors, you're the leader of the masses." The Mayor sat back with a patronizing smirk, baiting Gale into a twisted game of words.

"And yet somehow you've avoided me for the past two weeks. So either I'm a very poor leader… or you are." Gale tilted his head knowingly. "But I'm not here to debate my merit as a leader, I'm here to tell you that there's a lot of people waiting for answers from you. And I'm one of them."

"I'd like nothing more than to give you your answers. I suggest you attend the next town hall- we'll be sure to make time for your questions."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Ignore me for long enough and you won't have to deal with the Worker's Union."

"I'm not ignoring you. It's just that my campaign staff happens to be very particular about whom I am seen with. You know how it is." The Mayor added with a negligent shrug. "Politics."

"I don't see any of your campaign staff here. So how 'bout it?" Gale leaned in as if they were sharing a secret. "Lets talk, off the record."

"Oh, Mr. Hawthorne, you of all people should know, 'off the record' means it's very much so 'on the record'." Mayor Undersee laughed. She looked vastly amused by his proposition.

"Well, what am I supposed to do? You won't answer my calls, you change your number. I mean, I'm not gonna be ignored, Mayor Undersee." Gale pressed his palms to her desk and stood, looming over her, forcing her to look up to meet his eyes.

"Yes, I hardly think a man of your considerable… stature has ever been ignored." Her eyes dismissively flicked over his wide shoulders and glowering expression. "And I assure you, I'm not ignoring you now." She stroked her finger over a minuscule scratch in the arm of her chair. "As I said earlier, this isn't a good time for a conversation."

"I'm not leaving. Not until you give me what I want." He remained standing, fists pressed to her desk, a silent threat hanging between them.

"Don't you understand? I can't give you what you want." The Mayor voice went flat. She stood and rounded the desk, her fingers gently skimming the the wood, just a whisper away from his hand. Gale tensed as she moved closer to stand behind him, lips inches from his ear. Her voice taunted him. "Even if I could, I wouldn't." He could hear the callous smile in her voice. "So if you don't mind Mr. Hawthorne, I'm going to have to ask you please leave."

She brushed past him without a second glance and made her way to the door. The harsh click of her heels on the mahogany floor echoed through the silence. Gale's fingers curled into tight fists, feeling more out of control by the second. He watched over his shoulder as she walked away with a straight spine and iron will. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew her place in the world- at the very top.

Gale scoffed and turned to lean against the desk, crossing his arms across his chest. His eyes met hers through the silence of the office. She, at the door, looking every inch the queen she though she was. Madge Undersee truly believed that this office, the ridiculous title of Mayor, could protect her from the world.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes expectantly as her hand curved over the door handle. "Oh, and Mr. Hawthorne, if you would, please take the back door." The words sounded like a polite request, but he knew she wasn't asking. She was ordering. "It wouldn't do for anyone to misunderstand your presence here." She opened the door to let in a sliver of white light from the hallway and turned to face him with an arched brow. "I'm sure you understand."

Madge swung the door open and propped her hip against it, resting one small hand on the opposite waist. Waiting, watching, as Gale pushed off the desk and approached her with long strides. Her face took on a meticulously practiced expression of bored indifference but every nerve in her body lit up when he stepped in front of her. His face was impassive, but she could tell by the way his lips were ever-so-slightly pressed together that she had crossed the line.

You didn't dismiss a man like Gale Hawthorne. He absolutely wouldn't let you.

Of every adversary she had encountered on the twisted road to her success, he was the single most formidable one. A former soldier, a war hero. Gale Hawthorne was the reason District 12 still existed. He had lifted the people to his capable shoulders and given them a reason to hope- a reason to hold their heads high as they fought the war for peace. And when it was all over and the dust had settled, he had returned to his home, more beloved than ever before.

If there was ever anyone who could destroy her future, it was him.

Gale's flat gaze flicked over her, taking in her hair, glowing a burnished bronze in the low light; her impeccable skirt suit, pressed into sharp creases; and her polished leather heels. Perfect. Always so perfect. He moved slowly with great intention and jerked the door toward him, pulling it away from her hip. His big hand slid up the wood and pressed the door shut with a quiet snick.

He took one step closer, now they were toe-to-toe, breathing the same air.

Another step, he blocked out the light from her desk lamp, casting her into shadow.

She had no choice but to retreat.

"If you're trying to intimidate me, Mr. Hawthorne, it won't work. I've gone head to head with some real mean sons of bitches. You're a walk in the park compared to them." Her voice was supremely unperturbed but she knew she was treading the line with a very dangerous man.

One who had done whatever was necessary in the name of freedom.

"Hmmm." he hummed, a rumble that vibrated through her body- low and deep.

He took another step closer, now she was pressed to the wall. Her back against wood and her front just inches away from a hot, hard deadly man. He smelled of smoke and grass. It was a dangerous combination. One with potential to cloud her judgement.

Some tiny part of her, the part that had forgotten how to admit defeat lit up. Let it go, Madge, it told her, This is one fight you might not win. The rest of her, the adamance and willpower that had won every election, muffled that voice and shouted, DON'T GIVE IN. NOT ONE INCH.

"Or maybe you think you can threaten me and I'll drop to my knees begging for mercy."

He ignored her vitriolic tone and dropped his gaze to his wrist to unbutton his cuffs. Every movement was deliberate. Madge found that she couldn't tear her eyes away from his agile fingers, grey around the fingernails where coal had permeated his skin. A flick of his wrist here, and turn there, and his sleeve was neatly rolled up to his elbow.

He still didn't look at her.

He brought the other wrist between them and began the hypnotic process again- button, button, fold, straighten, and repeat. Madge's vision blackened at the edges as she realized how shallow her breaths had become.

"I'm not trying to intimidate you, Mayor Undersee. And I won't threaten you." Gale's lips quirked up as he finally, finally met her eyes. His flinty, even gaze met her calculating one. "As for you dropping to your knees," He glanced down her body, burning a hot path with his eyes. "I don't expect that either. But I can't pretend I wouldn't enjoy seeing that." Gale leaned into her body, surrounding her with heat and muscle. He gently stroked the backs of his fingers up her arm, grinning when her eyes slid shut. "I'm going to make you a deal."

Magde's lips opened wordlessly as his fingers skated across her collarbone and curved around her neck. Her head fell back against the wall when Gale ducked his head to press a slow, wet, open-mouthed kiss to her throat. "You couldn't possibly offer me anything," she gasped into his hair as her fingers slid up to grip his head.

"Hmmm," Gale's tongue smoothed over her pulse as his hands slid lower, lower, lower. "We'll see." He pulled away, still squeezing handfuls of her ass, and took in her glazed eyes and flushed skin.

"Mr. Hawthorne, You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?"

"Would you like me to seduce you?"

"I think I would enjoy that," her gaze raked over him, lingering a moment too long at his messy hair. "I'd enjoy it quite a bit."

"Far be it from me to spoil your fun." He tugged at her skirt, pulling it up inch by inch.

Madge wondered what he wold do next, slide his fingers between her thighs? No, that was too tame. Hoist her up and grind against her until she came all over him? Maybe… definitely, maybe.

Gale rucked her skirt up to her waist and slid his fingertips into the waistband of her panties, flicking them to snap against her hips. Maybe he was going for tame, after all. He pressed himself against her belly, he was already hard. Then he did the unexpected and slowly lowered himself to his knees.

As she attempted to steady herself, she felt his warm hands circle her bare ankles. At once, awareness raced up her calves and weakened her knees. Her breath hitched in her throat as those hands stroked higher up the backs of her legs, fingers dragging lightly on her skin and shooting lightning up her back. The hands went higher, until they reached her thighs, which were already flexing in anticipation. Then she felt damp pressure trail over the inside of her knee. She glanced down, but could only see the black of his hair between her feet. Was that his mouth? When the unmistakable sensation of a tongue licked over the flesh of her inner thigh, she slumped back onto the wall with a breathy moan.

Briefly, she wondered why this felt so right, when seconds ago, the idea of being along with Gale had felt infinitely wrong. Rational thought fled as his seeking, reckless hands followed in the past of his tongue, kneading and smoothing as they went. They could have only one destination. She needed to be touched there so badly, she ached badly. Almost enough to beg. Madge's thighs began to part when it registered how fast they were moving. How, in mere seconds, she'd gone from controller to controlled. Before the door had closed, she'd had every intention of throwing him out, yet now this Gale's touch had transformed her into a willing participant. His roughness felt unfamiliar, but her body responded as though it had been…expecting this kind of treatment from him.

Her heartbeat accelerated as the hands, the mouth on her legs grew hotter. Oh, God. Lust twisted in her belly. A man like Gale would move fast, give her one choice only. To receive pleasure. She shouldn't like it. Shouldn't need it. Confusion shone through the growing need. They needed to slow down so she could figure out where it was coming from.

She stayed his ascending hand, the one creeping under the edge of her panties, with her own. "Wait. Aren't you going to…"

His growl of frustration vibrated against her thigh and she sucked in a breath. Madge's brow furrowed as desperately tried to organize the chaos of her thoughts.

"Aren't you going to at least kiss me first?" No answer.

He sighed loudly and she felt him rise to his feet. His larger frame crowded her against the door, fitting them together in a way that was blatantly indecent. She felt his arousal, thick at her belly. Her breasts flattened against his chest in a way that felt sinful and divine simultaneously. Warm breath skated over her cheekbone and sent shivers down her neck.

"Kiss you where?" Gale's voice was a rough, almost inaudible whisper that bathed her in blistering heat. "Your mouth? Or the slick little pussy you're hiding from me?"

Madge gasped loudly in the darkness, her entire world tilting on its axis. No one had ever dared to speak to her in such a crude manner. She heard her chief of staff, Effie's voice, echoing through her thoughts, "He's a coal miner, what did you expect? He has a filthy mouth to go with those filthy hands of his."

She opened her mouth to demand an apology when a loud sound echoing in the room brought her back to reality. She realized it was her own heavy, panting breath. No. No way. It couldn't have turned her on. She couldn't actually like his dirty words. Could she? Her body hummed like a swarm of bees, the body she continued to press against him so very intimately. Begging for even more contact.

What are you going to do, Madge? Walk away when you're finally feeling something with a man? When someone has finally succeeded in evoking an emotion other than tepid interest?

"Both." She swallowed hard, unable to keep the words to herself. His mouth. His tongue. She wanted them so bad it pained her. She wanted him. "Just kiss me. I don't care."

She felt a ripple of shock go through him, and her body answered it. With a loud groan, his mouth came down on hers, hard and punishing. He kissed her almost angrily, forcing her lips apart and sweeping his tongue inside in a way meant to provoke her. Incite her. Madge couldn't get enough of his hard mouth moving like a brand over hers. She dug her fingers into the collar of his shirt and tugged him down as she pushed higher on her toes to meet him. They kissed furiously until breath ran scarce, pausing to draw air and bite at each other's lips. Not one single coherent thought broke through the haze coursing through her. She felt needy, out of control, hot. With a sound of frustration, she clutched his shoulders and slung one leg around his thigh, pulling him in until the hard muscle pressed to the dampness of her panties.

If she had been in anything resembling a normal state of mind, she might have been disgusted by her lack of finesse, the artlessness of it all. But there was no space in her head for those thoughts. All she needed was more, more, more.

She ground against his leg in tiny circles, pressing the wetness through his slacks. She rode him with a single minded determination.

An animalistic groan tore from his throat as his fingers dug into her hips and held her there. Wanting. Desperate for more. Madge opened her mouth to issue a demand for more pressure, but her backside slammed into the door as he shoved her away, breaking the vice-like grip of her leg. She cried out into the encompassing darkness as he growled into her neck.

"No."

She heard a pathetic moan leave her lips. Or maybe it was a whine? If she could, she knew she would ignore his order and get back to what she had been enjoying moments earlier. But his grip was too strong. Gale maneuvered her backwards, pressing her shoulders to the wall, then kicked her feet apart. He dropped to his knees between them and nipped at her thigh as he slid a hand over her hip to hold her in place. Her scent clouded his head, and he lost himself in the moment. Turning his head, he nipped the other thigh, and slid his fingers into the waistband of her panties. He slid them to the floor and slipped one foot out of them. Rather than letting her foot back down to the floor, he hooked her knee over his shoulder and held her wide open.

She glistened in the low light, pink and soft and wet. So wet. Everything he wanted to lose himself in. He spread her open with his thumbs and blew a soft stream of hot air against her clit, filling with pleasure as her thighs trembled. He wedged his shoulders between her legs to keep them open as he licked his way up the inside of her thighs. She felt so open, so exposed and wanton as he stroked his thumbs through her folds.

"You're so wet and I barely even touched you." He spread her wider and laved one long, languid stoke of his tongue against her. She gyrated against him, her muscles straining, small whimpers echoing on her sighs.

He caressed her thigh and pressed his fingers up into her. He filled her in one deep, gentle thrust and she fell back, moaning when his fingers began pull out again. Madge closed her eyes and let sensation take over. When his middle finger crooked and rotated, finding that delicious spot inside her, her back arched on a cry. She felt the heat of his breath between her thighs. He flicked her aching clitoris with his thumb, in perfect rhythm with his pumping fingers. Madge could feel herself begin to clench, the heat within her rising to a boiling point. Gale's fingers moved faster, in and out, urging her closer. Dangling over the edge, she felt him suck her clitoris into his mouth, rolling it on his tongue and growling. His fingers pushed deep and held, tethering her to the edge of orgasm. Too close to back down and to far away to finish.

Her breath choked on a frustrated gasp as she scraped her nails over his scalp, intending to cause him pain for leaving her empty.

Her desperate sounds roared his in his ears. There were so many things he wanted to do so badly.

He sucked her swollen clit into his mouth. Flicking her softly, then harder, until her hands fisted in his hair. She bucked against him, holding him in place with her leg over his shoulder as her hips sawed back and forth.

"How bad do you want it?" As much as she wanted more, she could only move as much as Gale would let her. And right now, he wanted her to ride his tongue. He wanted to watch as she lost control with his mouth on her pussy.

"Bad, please Gale. Please, please, please." She was begging. Madge Undersee never begged for anything. Until now, apparently.

He slid his index and middle finger up through her folds and clamped them down on either side of her clit. She cried out, sparks of light flashing behind her eyes as he held her clit captive. He continued to pound into her without even a hitch in his pace, his fingers on her clit sliding, plucking, and pinching. Sensation upon sensation whirled through her, taking over, stealing her will. She rose higher and higher, her breath catching, her heart maybe stopping. He released her clit and hooked his hand around her thigh as he buried his face between her legs. His stubble scraped at her raw skin and her juices dripped down his chin but he didn't stop. She was nearly there. Every stroke took her higher, higher until she was about to burst.

Then- nothing. No hands. No fingers. No tongue or lips or mouth. Just Gale- gently sliding her thigh off his shoulder and rising to his feet.

Startled, Madge blinked. "I'm so close—"

"Yeah, I gathered that." Gale glanced at his right hand. The one that had been inside her, the one that had fucked her to the edge of insanity, and raised his eyebrow. He sucked his index and middle finger between his lips, tasting her. "Don't worry, Mayor Undersee, I'll take the back door- can't have anyone misunderstanding what happened here." He stepped back, unfazed by her appearance, skirt around her waist, panties abandoned on the floor, pussy still dripping down her thighs. "You know where to find me."

Next Prompt: TBD!

If anyone has suggestions for a prompt, send them my way!

-M-