Fic: 555 Minutes (HP: Ron/Padma, NC-17)
Nov. 14th, 2005 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_water_clockAuthor: Clio
Title: 555 Minutes
Pairing: Harry Potter: Ron Weasley/Padma Patil
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ron has been working so much lately that he's barely seen his wife. So Padma brings him a dinner that is a little spicier than he expected.
Length: 1800 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: I'd been thinking lately that I wasn't giving this pair enough love, so this month's challenge gave me the kick I needed. Thanks as always to the delightful master-beta-o'-dreams,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
evil_erato; without her demanding and discerning eye my smut would be merely average.
All things considered, Ron thought his first big case as Lead Auror was going rather well. To be sure, it was complicated, and had required many late nights from both his team and the Wizengamot people, pouring through surveillance records and statements from potential witnesses and paperwork from the goblins. Ron’s natural inclination was to speed things up, but this was a corruption case, a money case, and Sirius’s advice to build slowly and carefully from the outside in rang in Ron’s ears and guided how he guided his team. Still, he wished that he could go home and have dinner with his wife, something he hadn’t done in almost three weeks.
To be honest, he wished that he could go home and fuck his wife, something he also hadn’t done in almost three weeks. But that—well, that was more complicated than his current case, by far.
He wasn’t even sure that Padma had noticed, though he was very sure she hadn’t been counting the days (20) or hours (490) as he had been. Padma was, of course, absolutely gorgeous and heart-stoppingly sexy in an unconscious, natural way, and he would fuck her every night if he could. But she was also a bit reserved. Not cold, thank you, as she nearly always said yes when he propositioned her, but she needed a lot of warming up and that took time. He suspected that their usual two to three times a week was really plenty for her and didn’t push it.
Of course, there was also the matter of Padma’s qualms about his, well, his size. This was so typical of his life as to be symbolic; only he could turn such a blessing into a curse. Dean had said that boys were different, eager rather than reluctant, which Ron felt was unfair for several reasons, not the least of which that boys were of course less “accommodating” than girls were. While he was very happy for Dean, he was not only hopelessly straight but hopelessly Padma’s, so he had to make the best of things.
Not that those things were bad by a long shot. Once Padma’s engines were going she was flat-out amazing, better than any fantasy. He just didn’t think she thought about it much when they weren’t in the middle of it, or craved it when circumstances led to a drop in frequency. He’d been living on memories of her touch for these long three weeks, pulling one off in the shower once he finally got home so he could spoon behind her in the bed in the most non-threatening way possible.
He stared at the column of figures again, trying to make sense of it, then rubbed his eyes. He was losing focus, which likely meant it was time to order dinner and give his team a break. He was just looking up to say something when he heard young Gary say, “Hullo, Mrs. Weasley!”
What on earth in my mother doing here? he thought, turning to the door, but that woman was not his mother. His mother didn’t have long black hair and green-yellow eyes and high cheekbones and a perfect little chin.
“Hello, Gary. How does it feel to be out of training and working on your first real case?” Padma asked.
It was odd, but watching other men reacting to Padma never gave Ron more than a tiny twinge of jealousy; more like a vague confidence. He smiled, listening to Gary’s stumbling answer and a more senior auror’s joking reply that Gary was very good at fetching coffee and said, “Gary is doing very well for himself.”
Padma turned. “Hello, darling. I thought I’d bring your team a pasta dinner. You’re probably all sick of curry by now. It’s out in the hall; shall I bring it in here?”
“Yes, please, thank you,” Ron said, helping the others to carefully clear the meeting room table of documents. Trays of pasta, bread and salad floated into the room, along with all necessities. Ron backed away from the table to allow the team to dig in while he gave a proper greeting to his wife. “What’s in the basket?”
“That’s for you,” she whispered. Louder, she said, “I’m stealing your boss away but I promise to bring him back.”
The team thanked her for their dinner and Padma led Ron down the hall and around the corner into his small office, closing and locking the door behind them. He stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders as she unpacked individual containers of veal marsala, spinach and garlic, and bread from the basket. “Oh, this is perfect,” Ron said, sitting down in one of the chairs facing his desk.”
“I left out the wine, as you need to work,” she replied. “Hey, now, don’t open those.”
“Why not?”
“I have an appetizer for you. Sit in your desk chair.”
Ron scowled in confusion but did as he was told.
Padma lowered the lamps to a softer, more romantic glow. Turning back to him, she unfastened her cloak, letting it fall to the floor, and Ron gasped.
“The green one is your favorite, right?” Padma asked, pointing to the filmy, almost sheer babydoll negligee.
“You-you’re not wearing the panties,” Ron said. His cock, which he’d been talking down since she walked into the meeting room, was taking immediate interest in this unexpected situation.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“NO! No, I just—you were out on the street like this?”
Padma slipped off her misleadingly sensible flats and sat on Ron’s lap, her legs straddling his. “I had the cloak on,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. “I missed you.”
“Mmm, I missed you too. But we don’t have much time—”
“I know,” she said between kisses. “I thought we’d have a quickie.”
Ron pulled back to look into her eyes. “Padma, quickie means fast. You don’t like fast.”
Padma smiled. “I haven’t had you for three weeks. That’s a bit long, even for me.” She kissed him again, sliding his right hand between her spread legs. “I need you now.”
Ron groaned as his fingers slipped into her. “You’re so wet already,” he whispered into her neck.
“Standing in the restaurant with no knickers was surprisingly exciting.” She arched her back, thrusting her quim against his hand and squeezing her thighs as best she could.
Ron pushed his thumb firmly across her clit, keeping his other hand on her back to keep her from falling. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he whispered, sucking one ear lobe into his mouth
“I’ve been th-thinking about you all d-day.” She bucked against him, pressing her soft breasts into his chest.
Ron licked at the beads of sweat on her collarbone. “My naughty girl thinking naughty thoughts about me,” he whispered as she squirmed against him, making him harder with every movement. “Naughty girl with no knickers in public and all wet between her legs.”
Padma tried to get even closer, working herself against his large, strong hand. “Harder!” she gasped.
Ron pushed and rubbed his thumb against her clit. “My naughty girl likes it hard and fast,” he whispered. His words and actions must have pushed her over the edge; he could feel her muscles contract around his fingers, and she let out the sweetest of little sighs and collapsed against his shoulder.
After a moment, she sat up again, looking at him with dazed eyes. “See?” she asked in her husky sex-voice. “Quick. Your turn.” She arched backwards, reaching over her head into the basket and feeling around for a moment. Ron took advantage of this, moving his now slippery right hand up to rub against the dusky nipple enticing him through the gauzy green fabric of her negligee.
Padma sat up again, a tube in her hand, and stood up. “Budge up your robe,” she said, and he pulled it above his hips and opened the fly in his shorts, letting his hard cock jut through the fabric.
She looked down and grinned. “You’re going to be quick too, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t know how long I can last, actually,” he said.
She smiled at him as she squeezed some lube into her palm. With a fast light touch she thickly coated his hard, red cock with the slippery substance, then wiped her hand on one of the napkins. “Ready?” she asked him.
All Ron could do was nod.
Padma straddled his legs, her hands on his shoulders, and he supported her waist as she bent her knees, taking in his thickness. Thanks to the lube, she slid down faster than she ever had, and was soon sitting flush against his thighs. “See?” she asked, breathlessly. “Quick.”
He nodded again, still not trusting himself to talk. Ron held her firmly in his strong hands as she worked herself up and down, knowing that he had neither the time nor the ability to last much longer, after all her costuming and writhing on top of his cock.
“Oh, I missed this,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “I missed your cock stretching me open.”
She arched her back just enough that he could slip one of her nipples into his mouth, making her hum low in her throat. She was so tight and so soft around him that he gritted his teeth, struggling to last long enough for decency by concentrating on her, on the feel of her tit between his lips.
Padma noticed his tension as she ran her hands along his neck and chest and then up to his face. “You don’t have to last, darling,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “Come for me.” She squeezed around his large cock as best she could.
He whimpered at her words, at her actions and finally let go, holding her down and pushing up into her as he came.
After a moment, she kissed the tip of his nose, then disentangled herself and stood up. Retrieving her wand from her cloak she cleaned up her husband, then opened the window and cleaned the air of the smell of sex. “Eat your dinner, Ron,” she said, sliding the veal in front of him and helping herself to some spinach. “I think we should always use lube,” she declared.
Ron stirred. “I think I’m going to have to get used to you talking about sex.”
Padma shrugged. “I think I’ve let you do the heavy lifting long enough.”
“Surely dinner’s gone cold by now.” he replied. “And I should get back to the team.”
“Ron, look at the clock.”
His eyes flew wide. “It’s only been fifteen minutes?”
She smiled. “See? Quick.”
Title: 555 Minutes
Pairing: Harry Potter: Ron Weasley/Padma Patil
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ron has been working so much lately that he's barely seen his wife. So Padma brings him a dinner that is a little spicier than he expected.
Length: 1800 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: I'd been thinking lately that I wasn't giving this pair enough love, so this month's challenge gave me the kick I needed. Thanks as always to the delightful master-beta-o'-dreams,
evil_erato; without her demanding and discerning eye my smut would be merely average.All things considered, Ron thought his first big case as Lead Auror was going rather well. To be sure, it was complicated, and had required many late nights from both his team and the Wizengamot people, pouring through surveillance records and statements from potential witnesses and paperwork from the goblins. Ron’s natural inclination was to speed things up, but this was a corruption case, a money case, and Sirius’s advice to build slowly and carefully from the outside in rang in Ron’s ears and guided how he guided his team. Still, he wished that he could go home and have dinner with his wife, something he hadn’t done in almost three weeks.
To be honest, he wished that he could go home and fuck his wife, something he also hadn’t done in almost three weeks. But that—well, that was more complicated than his current case, by far.
He wasn’t even sure that Padma had noticed, though he was very sure she hadn’t been counting the days (20) or hours (490) as he had been. Padma was, of course, absolutely gorgeous and heart-stoppingly sexy in an unconscious, natural way, and he would fuck her every night if he could. But she was also a bit reserved. Not cold, thank you, as she nearly always said yes when he propositioned her, but she needed a lot of warming up and that took time. He suspected that their usual two to three times a week was really plenty for her and didn’t push it.
Of course, there was also the matter of Padma’s qualms about his, well, his size. This was so typical of his life as to be symbolic; only he could turn such a blessing into a curse. Dean had said that boys were different, eager rather than reluctant, which Ron felt was unfair for several reasons, not the least of which that boys were of course less “accommodating” than girls were. While he was very happy for Dean, he was not only hopelessly straight but hopelessly Padma’s, so he had to make the best of things.
Not that those things were bad by a long shot. Once Padma’s engines were going she was flat-out amazing, better than any fantasy. He just didn’t think she thought about it much when they weren’t in the middle of it, or craved it when circumstances led to a drop in frequency. He’d been living on memories of her touch for these long three weeks, pulling one off in the shower once he finally got home so he could spoon behind her in the bed in the most non-threatening way possible.
He stared at the column of figures again, trying to make sense of it, then rubbed his eyes. He was losing focus, which likely meant it was time to order dinner and give his team a break. He was just looking up to say something when he heard young Gary say, “Hullo, Mrs. Weasley!”
What on earth in my mother doing here? he thought, turning to the door, but that woman was not his mother. His mother didn’t have long black hair and green-yellow eyes and high cheekbones and a perfect little chin.
“Hello, Gary. How does it feel to be out of training and working on your first real case?” Padma asked.
It was odd, but watching other men reacting to Padma never gave Ron more than a tiny twinge of jealousy; more like a vague confidence. He smiled, listening to Gary’s stumbling answer and a more senior auror’s joking reply that Gary was very good at fetching coffee and said, “Gary is doing very well for himself.”
Padma turned. “Hello, darling. I thought I’d bring your team a pasta dinner. You’re probably all sick of curry by now. It’s out in the hall; shall I bring it in here?”
“Yes, please, thank you,” Ron said, helping the others to carefully clear the meeting room table of documents. Trays of pasta, bread and salad floated into the room, along with all necessities. Ron backed away from the table to allow the team to dig in while he gave a proper greeting to his wife. “What’s in the basket?”
“That’s for you,” she whispered. Louder, she said, “I’m stealing your boss away but I promise to bring him back.”
The team thanked her for their dinner and Padma led Ron down the hall and around the corner into his small office, closing and locking the door behind them. He stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders as she unpacked individual containers of veal marsala, spinach and garlic, and bread from the basket. “Oh, this is perfect,” Ron said, sitting down in one of the chairs facing his desk.”
“I left out the wine, as you need to work,” she replied. “Hey, now, don’t open those.”
“Why not?”
“I have an appetizer for you. Sit in your desk chair.”
Ron scowled in confusion but did as he was told.
Padma lowered the lamps to a softer, more romantic glow. Turning back to him, she unfastened her cloak, letting it fall to the floor, and Ron gasped.
“The green one is your favorite, right?” Padma asked, pointing to the filmy, almost sheer babydoll negligee.
“You-you’re not wearing the panties,” Ron said. His cock, which he’d been talking down since she walked into the meeting room, was taking immediate interest in this unexpected situation.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“NO! No, I just—you were out on the street like this?”
Padma slipped off her misleadingly sensible flats and sat on Ron’s lap, her legs straddling his. “I had the cloak on,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. “I missed you.”
“Mmm, I missed you too. But we don’t have much time—”
“I know,” she said between kisses. “I thought we’d have a quickie.”
Ron pulled back to look into her eyes. “Padma, quickie means fast. You don’t like fast.”
Padma smiled. “I haven’t had you for three weeks. That’s a bit long, even for me.” She kissed him again, sliding his right hand between her spread legs. “I need you now.”
Ron groaned as his fingers slipped into her. “You’re so wet already,” he whispered into her neck.
“Standing in the restaurant with no knickers was surprisingly exciting.” She arched her back, thrusting her quim against his hand and squeezing her thighs as best she could.
Ron pushed his thumb firmly across her clit, keeping his other hand on her back to keep her from falling. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he whispered, sucking one ear lobe into his mouth
“I’ve been th-thinking about you all d-day.” She bucked against him, pressing her soft breasts into his chest.
Ron licked at the beads of sweat on her collarbone. “My naughty girl thinking naughty thoughts about me,” he whispered as she squirmed against him, making him harder with every movement. “Naughty girl with no knickers in public and all wet between her legs.”
Padma tried to get even closer, working herself against his large, strong hand. “Harder!” she gasped.
Ron pushed and rubbed his thumb against her clit. “My naughty girl likes it hard and fast,” he whispered. His words and actions must have pushed her over the edge; he could feel her muscles contract around his fingers, and she let out the sweetest of little sighs and collapsed against his shoulder.
After a moment, she sat up again, looking at him with dazed eyes. “See?” she asked in her husky sex-voice. “Quick. Your turn.” She arched backwards, reaching over her head into the basket and feeling around for a moment. Ron took advantage of this, moving his now slippery right hand up to rub against the dusky nipple enticing him through the gauzy green fabric of her negligee.
Padma sat up again, a tube in her hand, and stood up. “Budge up your robe,” she said, and he pulled it above his hips and opened the fly in his shorts, letting his hard cock jut through the fabric.
She looked down and grinned. “You’re going to be quick too, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t know how long I can last, actually,” he said.
She smiled at him as she squeezed some lube into her palm. With a fast light touch she thickly coated his hard, red cock with the slippery substance, then wiped her hand on one of the napkins. “Ready?” she asked him.
All Ron could do was nod.
Padma straddled his legs, her hands on his shoulders, and he supported her waist as she bent her knees, taking in his thickness. Thanks to the lube, she slid down faster than she ever had, and was soon sitting flush against his thighs. “See?” she asked, breathlessly. “Quick.”
He nodded again, still not trusting himself to talk. Ron held her firmly in his strong hands as she worked herself up and down, knowing that he had neither the time nor the ability to last much longer, after all her costuming and writhing on top of his cock.
“Oh, I missed this,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “I missed your cock stretching me open.”
She arched her back just enough that he could slip one of her nipples into his mouth, making her hum low in her throat. She was so tight and so soft around him that he gritted his teeth, struggling to last long enough for decency by concentrating on her, on the feel of her tit between his lips.
Padma noticed his tension as she ran her hands along his neck and chest and then up to his face. “You don’t have to last, darling,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “Come for me.” She squeezed around his large cock as best she could.
He whimpered at her words, at her actions and finally let go, holding her down and pushing up into her as he came.
After a moment, she kissed the tip of his nose, then disentangled herself and stood up. Retrieving her wand from her cloak she cleaned up her husband, then opened the window and cleaned the air of the smell of sex. “Eat your dinner, Ron,” she said, sliding the veal in front of him and helping herself to some spinach. “I think we should always use lube,” she declared.
Ron stirred. “I think I’m going to have to get used to you talking about sex.”
Padma shrugged. “I think I’ve let you do the heavy lifting long enough.”
“Surely dinner’s gone cold by now.” he replied. “And I should get back to the team.”
“Ron, look at the clock.”
His eyes flew wide. “It’s only been fifteen minutes?”
She smiled. “See? Quick.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-14 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-16 11:11 pm (UTC)Chief Beta doesn't say the same thing though.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-18 05:34 pm (UTC)Ohh - and you rhyme, too! You are multi-talented! But then I knew that. ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-15 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-16 11:12 pm (UTC)Also the world needs more het porn generally, I reckon. Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-18 09:18 am (UTC)thanks ;-)