Fic Waiting for the Storm to Pass
May. 16th, 2014 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Waiting for the Storm to Pass
Author:alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson.
Summary: What happened when Ron left Hermione and Harry during their year of hunting Horcruxes.
Word Count: 1580
Genre: Erotica.
Warnings: Intoxicated sex.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest.
Day sixteen prompt(s) used: Life isn’t about waiting for the storms to pass, but it’s about learning to dance in the rain, Tequila. Marigold.
Kink: Sex in Water.
This pairing was suggested by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
libco. *g*
Beta:sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Waiting for the Storm to Pass
~
Frustrated, Ron growled. Almost since the moment he’d stormed away from the camping site, he’d known he was wrong. Something had made him say those things, though. Hermione was right, he thought. It was the bloody locket making me say those things.
But now he couldn’t find them! He’d always known Hermione was brilliant at charms, but the sheer enormity of her cleverness hit him then. Not only couldn’t he recall anything about where they had been, but nothing he did seemed to pierce the thick fog that hung over the forest.
Sighing, he lowered his wand. Well, he thought, I can’t go home. That would put my parents in danger. I can’t go to any relatives, really-- He straightened up as something occurred to him. I know where I can go!
When he appeared in Hogsmeade it looked the same. Ron was careful, however, skirting the edges of the town before making his way to the castle. He’d heard Hogwarts was somewhat fortified, but he just needed someplace safe to rest for a bit before trying to find Harry and Hermione again. And apologise, he thought, cringing.
The gates were barred, of course, but Ron wasn’t a Weasley for nothing. Slipping around, he made his way onto the grounds carefully, and once inside skirted the castle in favour of the lake.
It was autumn, but it had been unusually hot, and even as dusk approached he was sweating. My Cooling Charms may not be as good as Hermione’s, but they’ll do the trick, he thought. Sleeping outside didn’t sound too bad.
He’d just settled in, making a pillow of his rucksack and Transfiguring his cloak into a light blanket, when he heard some noise. Drawing his wand, he got up on his knees and peered through some bushes.
There, at the edge of the water, was Pansy Parkinson, and as he watched she swayed on her feet, periodically tipping a bottle to her lips.
Looks like she comes down here to drink, thought Ron.
He must have made a noise, however. Parkinson whirled, fumbling for her wand. “Who’s there?” she said, voice slurred. “Come out!”
Ron didn’t move.
“If you don’t come out I’ll tell the Carrows there’s someone out here and you know they’ll find you.”
Ron bit his lip wondering who she meant.
“Even if they don’t find you, you know they’ll punish the Gryffindors.”
That was it. Wand pointed, Ron pushed through the bushes.
When Parkinson saw him, however, she blinked, lowering her wand. “Well, fuck me,” she said. “You’re the last person I expected, Weasley.” Still swaying on her feet, she looked around. “Where’re your best friend and your girlfriend?”
Ron scowled. “No idea.”
Parkinson raised an eyebrow. “Oh my. Trouble in paradise?”
“Shut up,” Ron ground out. “I should Obliviate you and leave.”
Parkinson laughed. It was a bitter sound. “I almost wish you would,” she said, raising the bottle to her lips for another swallow. “I wish I could forget the past few months.”
Puzzled, Ron watched her.
After she drank more, she collapsed onto a rock. “Put that thing away before you hurt yourself,” she said, nodding at his wand.
Reluctantly, Ron did and, leaning up against a tree, stared at her. “What’s wrong with you, then?”
Parkinson snorted. “Wrong question. The better one would be what’s right with me. And right now, nothing is.”
Ron snorted. “I thought you’d love lording it over the school.”
“Yeah, I thought I would, too.” Parkinson sounded mournful. “But nothing’s how I thought it would be.”
“Why? What’s it like?”
Parkinson looked up at him. “Look, why don’t you come over here?” she said. “I’m not going to hex you. Plus, I hate drinking alone.”
Ron considered that, then nodded. He approached gingerly, settling on a rock across from her. When she handed him the bottle, he looked at the label. “Tequila?”
Parkinson hummed. “Good shit. Stole it from my mum’s larder. She knows her liquor, trust me.”
Shrugging, Ron took a sip and almost choked. “Bloody hell!”
Parkinson giggled. “It’ll get easier.”
She was right. As they traded the bottle back and forth, Ron noticed it went down more smoothly. “So what’s so bad about school these days?” he finally asked.
Parkinson huffed. “Never thought I’d say this, but we’re not actually learning anything good. I mean sure, I can cast a Cruciatus Curse, but I still can’t master a Patronus.”
“Have you asked anyone to teach you?”
She snorted. “Like who? The Carrows would laugh and probably hex me themselves. And your friends--”
“What about my friends?” Ron snapped when she went silent.
“They’re fine, they just won’t have anything to do with me.”
“Do you blame them?”
She sighed, tilting the last of the tequila into her mouth. “I suppose not.” She stared at him. “What about your friends?”
Ron looked away. “We had a fight. I said some pretty bad things.”
“And you left them?” At his nod, Parkinson hummed. “That’s life, isn’t it? My father used to say that life isn’t about waiting for the storms to pass, but it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
Ron frowned. “What?”
Parkinson rolled her eyes. “Go find them and apologise.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Ron snapped. “But they’re good at hiding.”
“I’ll bet.” She stood, swaying on her feet as she spread her arms wide. “Well, since they’re not here, maybe we could have some fun.” And then, she started to strip.
Ron’s mouth fell open. “What are you doing?”
“I’m hot,” she said. “I want a swim. And I refuse to ruin my new marigold robes.”
She was curvy in all the right places, and he could see her nipples clearly through her bra. Ron coughed, trying to will his erection down. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It’s a brilliant idea.” Fixing him with a challenging stare, she walked into the lake. “What’s the matter? Scared?”
Once she was fully immersed, she began to float. Her wet underwear hid nothing. “Are you...coming?” she asked.
Ron stripped quickly, making sure to tuck his wand securely into his robes before walking into the water. It felt lovely against his skin and, closing his eyes, he let himself relax and float. It was nice not to think for a minute, to just let the water lap against him.
When he felt her hand slide up his leg, Ron choked, almost going under. “Relax,” she whispered, breath hot on his ear. “You’ll like this.”
Ron had to admit, her body felt bloody brilliant sliding against him. His cock, which had remained half hard, grew to full hardness as she slipped her hand into his pants to pull him out. “What are you doing?” he gasped.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” she asked, stroking his cock a couple of times.
Ron moaned, closing his eyes, the combination of the tequila still in his system and her touch making his head swim. She managed to get his pants off and somehow her knickers and bra as well, and when she next pressed up against him, she was naked. “We can’t--”
“Why not?” she asked, guiding him inside her. “Who will know?”
Sliding his hands under her arse to support her, Ron stopped fighting. She wrapped her legs around him, and as he moved deeper inside her, she pressed her tits to his chest and tilted her head back.
“Okay?” Ron gasped.
“Yes!” she snapped. “Now move!”
Ron did, finding the water was helping him. As he slid in and out he felt her cunt clenching around him and he groaned, feeling his balls draw up. “I’m going to--”
“Not yet you’re not,” she said, digging her heels into the back of his thighs. “Just a few more...come on--”
Clinging to sanity, Ron managed a couple more thrusts and it was enough. With a low cry, she started trembling against him, her cunt rippling around him, and that was it. His cock pulsed, rhythmically spilling come inside her.
They floated, clinging to each other for a moment before finally it was over and Ron slipped out of her. Parkinson hummed, opening her eyes. “Not bad, Weasley,” she said.
Ron flushed. “Thanks.”
They swam to shore, Ron fumbling with his clothes. He’d lost his pants but couldn’t muster up the energy to worry about it. Parkinson in turn didn’t seem concerned about her missing underwear either. Pulling on her robes, she smiled at him. “You should be safe here for the night,” she said. “But they patrol the grounds early in the morning. If I were you I’d be gone by then.”
Ron nodded. “Thanks.”
She shrugged. “No problem. Oh, and Weasley?”
“Yes?”
“Find Granger and Potter. You need them.” She bit her lip. “We need them. I’ll deny this if you ever repeat it, but the Dark Lord’s world isn’t one I want to live in.”
Ron’s mouth dropped open in shock for the second time that evening. But before he could say anything, she’d melted into the forest. On the ground where she’d been standing sat the empty tequila bottle.
Picking it up, Ron tucked it into his robes. Never know when this may come in handy, he thought. Then, exhausted and still tipsy, he went back to his impromptu bed to sleep.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson.
Summary: What happened when Ron left Hermione and Harry during their year of hunting Horcruxes.
Word Count: 1580
Genre: Erotica.
Warnings: Intoxicated sex.
A/N: Written for
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest. Day sixteen prompt(s) used: Life isn’t about waiting for the storms to pass, but it’s about learning to dance in the rain, Tequila. Marigold.
Kink: Sex in Water.
This pairing was suggested by
libco. *g*Beta:
sevfan and emynn. Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Waiting for the Storm to Pass
~
Frustrated, Ron growled. Almost since the moment he’d stormed away from the camping site, he’d known he was wrong. Something had made him say those things, though. Hermione was right, he thought. It was the bloody locket making me say those things.
But now he couldn’t find them! He’d always known Hermione was brilliant at charms, but the sheer enormity of her cleverness hit him then. Not only couldn’t he recall anything about where they had been, but nothing he did seemed to pierce the thick fog that hung over the forest.
Sighing, he lowered his wand. Well, he thought, I can’t go home. That would put my parents in danger. I can’t go to any relatives, really-- He straightened up as something occurred to him. I know where I can go!
When he appeared in Hogsmeade it looked the same. Ron was careful, however, skirting the edges of the town before making his way to the castle. He’d heard Hogwarts was somewhat fortified, but he just needed someplace safe to rest for a bit before trying to find Harry and Hermione again. And apologise, he thought, cringing.
The gates were barred, of course, but Ron wasn’t a Weasley for nothing. Slipping around, he made his way onto the grounds carefully, and once inside skirted the castle in favour of the lake.
It was autumn, but it had been unusually hot, and even as dusk approached he was sweating. My Cooling Charms may not be as good as Hermione’s, but they’ll do the trick, he thought. Sleeping outside didn’t sound too bad.
He’d just settled in, making a pillow of his rucksack and Transfiguring his cloak into a light blanket, when he heard some noise. Drawing his wand, he got up on his knees and peered through some bushes.
There, at the edge of the water, was Pansy Parkinson, and as he watched she swayed on her feet, periodically tipping a bottle to her lips.
Looks like she comes down here to drink, thought Ron.
He must have made a noise, however. Parkinson whirled, fumbling for her wand. “Who’s there?” she said, voice slurred. “Come out!”
Ron didn’t move.
“If you don’t come out I’ll tell the Carrows there’s someone out here and you know they’ll find you.”
Ron bit his lip wondering who she meant.
“Even if they don’t find you, you know they’ll punish the Gryffindors.”
That was it. Wand pointed, Ron pushed through the bushes.
When Parkinson saw him, however, she blinked, lowering her wand. “Well, fuck me,” she said. “You’re the last person I expected, Weasley.” Still swaying on her feet, she looked around. “Where’re your best friend and your girlfriend?”
Ron scowled. “No idea.”
Parkinson raised an eyebrow. “Oh my. Trouble in paradise?”
“Shut up,” Ron ground out. “I should Obliviate you and leave.”
Parkinson laughed. It was a bitter sound. “I almost wish you would,” she said, raising the bottle to her lips for another swallow. “I wish I could forget the past few months.”
Puzzled, Ron watched her.
After she drank more, she collapsed onto a rock. “Put that thing away before you hurt yourself,” she said, nodding at his wand.
Reluctantly, Ron did and, leaning up against a tree, stared at her. “What’s wrong with you, then?”
Parkinson snorted. “Wrong question. The better one would be what’s right with me. And right now, nothing is.”
Ron snorted. “I thought you’d love lording it over the school.”
“Yeah, I thought I would, too.” Parkinson sounded mournful. “But nothing’s how I thought it would be.”
“Why? What’s it like?”
Parkinson looked up at him. “Look, why don’t you come over here?” she said. “I’m not going to hex you. Plus, I hate drinking alone.”
Ron considered that, then nodded. He approached gingerly, settling on a rock across from her. When she handed him the bottle, he looked at the label. “Tequila?”
Parkinson hummed. “Good shit. Stole it from my mum’s larder. She knows her liquor, trust me.”
Shrugging, Ron took a sip and almost choked. “Bloody hell!”
Parkinson giggled. “It’ll get easier.”
She was right. As they traded the bottle back and forth, Ron noticed it went down more smoothly. “So what’s so bad about school these days?” he finally asked.
Parkinson huffed. “Never thought I’d say this, but we’re not actually learning anything good. I mean sure, I can cast a Cruciatus Curse, but I still can’t master a Patronus.”
“Have you asked anyone to teach you?”
She snorted. “Like who? The Carrows would laugh and probably hex me themselves. And your friends--”
“What about my friends?” Ron snapped when she went silent.
“They’re fine, they just won’t have anything to do with me.”
“Do you blame them?”
She sighed, tilting the last of the tequila into her mouth. “I suppose not.” She stared at him. “What about your friends?”
Ron looked away. “We had a fight. I said some pretty bad things.”
“And you left them?” At his nod, Parkinson hummed. “That’s life, isn’t it? My father used to say that life isn’t about waiting for the storms to pass, but it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”
Ron frowned. “What?”
Parkinson rolled her eyes. “Go find them and apologise.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Ron snapped. “But they’re good at hiding.”
“I’ll bet.” She stood, swaying on her feet as she spread her arms wide. “Well, since they’re not here, maybe we could have some fun.” And then, she started to strip.
Ron’s mouth fell open. “What are you doing?”
“I’m hot,” she said. “I want a swim. And I refuse to ruin my new marigold robes.”
She was curvy in all the right places, and he could see her nipples clearly through her bra. Ron coughed, trying to will his erection down. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It’s a brilliant idea.” Fixing him with a challenging stare, she walked into the lake. “What’s the matter? Scared?”
Once she was fully immersed, she began to float. Her wet underwear hid nothing. “Are you...coming?” she asked.
Ron stripped quickly, making sure to tuck his wand securely into his robes before walking into the water. It felt lovely against his skin and, closing his eyes, he let himself relax and float. It was nice not to think for a minute, to just let the water lap against him.
When he felt her hand slide up his leg, Ron choked, almost going under. “Relax,” she whispered, breath hot on his ear. “You’ll like this.”
Ron had to admit, her body felt bloody brilliant sliding against him. His cock, which had remained half hard, grew to full hardness as she slipped her hand into his pants to pull him out. “What are you doing?” he gasped.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” she asked, stroking his cock a couple of times.
Ron moaned, closing his eyes, the combination of the tequila still in his system and her touch making his head swim. She managed to get his pants off and somehow her knickers and bra as well, and when she next pressed up against him, she was naked. “We can’t--”
“Why not?” she asked, guiding him inside her. “Who will know?”
Sliding his hands under her arse to support her, Ron stopped fighting. She wrapped her legs around him, and as he moved deeper inside her, she pressed her tits to his chest and tilted her head back.
“Okay?” Ron gasped.
“Yes!” she snapped. “Now move!”
Ron did, finding the water was helping him. As he slid in and out he felt her cunt clenching around him and he groaned, feeling his balls draw up. “I’m going to--”
“Not yet you’re not,” she said, digging her heels into the back of his thighs. “Just a few more...come on--”
Clinging to sanity, Ron managed a couple more thrusts and it was enough. With a low cry, she started trembling against him, her cunt rippling around him, and that was it. His cock pulsed, rhythmically spilling come inside her.
They floated, clinging to each other for a moment before finally it was over and Ron slipped out of her. Parkinson hummed, opening her eyes. “Not bad, Weasley,” she said.
Ron flushed. “Thanks.”
They swam to shore, Ron fumbling with his clothes. He’d lost his pants but couldn’t muster up the energy to worry about it. Parkinson in turn didn’t seem concerned about her missing underwear either. Pulling on her robes, she smiled at him. “You should be safe here for the night,” she said. “But they patrol the grounds early in the morning. If I were you I’d be gone by then.”
Ron nodded. “Thanks.”
She shrugged. “No problem. Oh, and Weasley?”
“Yes?”
“Find Granger and Potter. You need them.” She bit her lip. “We need them. I’ll deny this if you ever repeat it, but the Dark Lord’s world isn’t one I want to live in.”
Ron’s mouth dropped open in shock for the second time that evening. But before he could say anything, she’d melted into the forest. On the ground where she’d been standing sat the empty tequila bottle.
Picking it up, Ron tucked it into his robes. Never know when this may come in handy, he thought. Then, exhausted and still tipsy, he went back to his impromptu bed to sleep.
~
