An Aversion to Sharing
Title: An Aversion to Sharing
Author:
enchanted_jae
Characters: Ron/Pansy
Rating: R
Warning(s): Corporal punishment
Additional warning: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Mind the rating and warning(s).
Word count: 725
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for
vix_spes, using the prompts surprise, spanking, possessive
Summary: When Ron stumbles home late, reeking of perfume, Pansy reminds him that she doesn't share.
Pansy was fuming. She hadn't argued when Ron wanted to go to Finnigan's stag party, but Pansy had expected her boyfriend to be home sometime before two in the morning. By the time Ron finally did stumble out of the Floo, he reeked of ale and something else.
Ron smelled like another woman's perfume.
Pansy had been raised an only child. She'd never learned how to share, and she'd be damned if she was going to do so now. After bustling Ron into the shower, she lay in wait on the bed. Pansy could hear Ron belting out a song. He only ever sang when he was pissed, which only served to prod her temper. Pansy hated it when Ron drank too much. He would get randy, paw and grope her, then fall asleep just when things began to get interesting. Well, not tonight.
Ron staggered out of the bathroom, wet hair standing up in clumps and a towel falling off his hips. "Let's shag, Pans," he beamed.
Pansy gritted her teeth. Ron wouldn't call her Pans if he were sober; he wouldn't dare. Mustering a smile, Pansy patted the bed beside her. "I have a surprise for you, darling," she said.
"Does it involve tits?" Ron asked with a leer.
"That depends," said Pansy. "Have you been a good boy?"
"I can be very good," Ron said. He fumbled his way to the bed and fell across it, barely avoiding squashing Pansy in the process.
She scooted away from him and tugged his towel off, leaving him nude on the bed. "Roll over," Pansy instructed.
"Why?" whined Ron, reaching for her.
Pansy evaded his grasping hands. "I told you, it's a surprise," she said.
Ron grumbled beneath his breath, but he rolled over. "This hurts my dick," he muttered.
Pansy planted a hand in the middle of his back and leaned over to speak in his ear. "That's my dick," she said, "and don't you forget it."
"You're a kinky-"
"Incarcerous!"
"Bloody hell, Pansy!" Ron cried, struggling against his bonds. "What're you doing?!"
"Were you cheating on me with another woman, Weasley?"
"What? No!" denied Ron.
"Whose perfume did I smell on you when you got home?" asked Pansy.
"I...there was a stripper," said Ron. "She plastered herself all over each of us. I didn't touch her, I swear."
Pansy didn't reply. She retrieved Ron's trousers from the floor and pulled the belt through the loops. "Who does your dick belong to?" Pansy demanded.
"Are you mental? Ow!" Ron yelped when Pansy struck him across the arse with his own belt.
"You didn't answer my question," said Pansy. She folded the belt in half and pulled it taut, making an ominous crack.
"You're a crazy bitch. Ouch! Fucking hell, that hurt!"
Pansy paused to admire the two red welts that stood out vividly on the pale skin of Ron's arse.
"Untie me," growled Ron.
Pansy swung the belt again, drawing another pained cry from her boyfriend. "You're in no position to be giving orders," she said. "Apologize at once."
"Fuck you! Ow! Ow, ow ow-alright! I'm sorry."
Ron's arse was now cherry-red, and Pansy was panting slightly with exertion. "Sorry for what?" she asked.
Ron seemed to think it over. "I'm sorry I called you a crazy bitch," he said. "Ouch!"
Pansy drew her arm back, poised to deliver another stinging swat. "That's it?" she sneered. "You're only sorry for calling me names?"
"I'm sorry I let another woman touch me," Ron babbled.
"And?"
"And, and I'm sorry I got pissed and stayed out so late," added Ron.
"That's better," said Pansy. She smirked when the tension visibly left Ron's shoulders. "Now tell me, who does your cock belong to?"
"You," muttered Ron.
"Very good," Pansy praised. She caressed her boyfriend's arse with one hand, feeling the heat of his abused flesh. "Do you still want to shag?" she asked.
Ron craned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "Yeah," he replied with an affable grin. To demonstrate, he shifted his hips, frotting against the duvet.
"Well, go fuck yourself," said Pansy. "I'm spending the night in the guest room with my vibe."
The Consequences
Author:
enchanted_jae
Characters: Ron/Pansy
Rating: R
Warning(s): Corporal punishment
Additional warning: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Mind the rating and warning(s).
Word count: 725
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for
vix_spes, using the prompts surprise, spanking, possessive
Summary: When Ron stumbles home late, reeking of perfume, Pansy reminds him that she doesn't share.
Pansy was fuming. She hadn't argued when Ron wanted to go to Finnigan's stag party, but Pansy had expected her boyfriend to be home sometime before two in the morning. By the time Ron finally did stumble out of the Floo, he reeked of ale and something else.
Ron smelled like another woman's perfume.
Pansy had been raised an only child. She'd never learned how to share, and she'd be damned if she was going to do so now. After bustling Ron into the shower, she lay in wait on the bed. Pansy could hear Ron belting out a song. He only ever sang when he was pissed, which only served to prod her temper. Pansy hated it when Ron drank too much. He would get randy, paw and grope her, then fall asleep just when things began to get interesting. Well, not tonight.
Ron staggered out of the bathroom, wet hair standing up in clumps and a towel falling off his hips. "Let's shag, Pans," he beamed.
Pansy gritted her teeth. Ron wouldn't call her Pans if he were sober; he wouldn't dare. Mustering a smile, Pansy patted the bed beside her. "I have a surprise for you, darling," she said.
"Does it involve tits?" Ron asked with a leer.
"That depends," said Pansy. "Have you been a good boy?"
"I can be very good," Ron said. He fumbled his way to the bed and fell across it, barely avoiding squashing Pansy in the process.
She scooted away from him and tugged his towel off, leaving him nude on the bed. "Roll over," Pansy instructed.
"Why?" whined Ron, reaching for her.
Pansy evaded his grasping hands. "I told you, it's a surprise," she said.
Ron grumbled beneath his breath, but he rolled over. "This hurts my dick," he muttered.
Pansy planted a hand in the middle of his back and leaned over to speak in his ear. "That's my dick," she said, "and don't you forget it."
"You're a kinky-"
"Incarcerous!"
"Bloody hell, Pansy!" Ron cried, struggling against his bonds. "What're you doing?!"
"Were you cheating on me with another woman, Weasley?"
"What? No!" denied Ron.
"Whose perfume did I smell on you when you got home?" asked Pansy.
"I...there was a stripper," said Ron. "She plastered herself all over each of us. I didn't touch her, I swear."
Pansy didn't reply. She retrieved Ron's trousers from the floor and pulled the belt through the loops. "Who does your dick belong to?" Pansy demanded.
"Are you mental? Ow!" Ron yelped when Pansy struck him across the arse with his own belt.
"You didn't answer my question," said Pansy. She folded the belt in half and pulled it taut, making an ominous crack.
"You're a crazy bitch. Ouch! Fucking hell, that hurt!"
Pansy paused to admire the two red welts that stood out vividly on the pale skin of Ron's arse.
"Untie me," growled Ron.
Pansy swung the belt again, drawing another pained cry from her boyfriend. "You're in no position to be giving orders," she said. "Apologize at once."
"Fuck you! Ow! Ow, ow ow-alright! I'm sorry."
Ron's arse was now cherry-red, and Pansy was panting slightly with exertion. "Sorry for what?" she asked.
Ron seemed to think it over. "I'm sorry I called you a crazy bitch," he said. "Ouch!"
Pansy drew her arm back, poised to deliver another stinging swat. "That's it?" she sneered. "You're only sorry for calling me names?"
"I'm sorry I let another woman touch me," Ron babbled.
"And?"
"And, and I'm sorry I got pissed and stayed out so late," added Ron.
"That's better," said Pansy. She smirked when the tension visibly left Ron's shoulders. "Now tell me, who does your cock belong to?"
"You," muttered Ron.
"Very good," Pansy praised. She caressed her boyfriend's arse with one hand, feeling the heat of his abused flesh. "Do you still want to shag?" she asked.
Ron craned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "Yeah," he replied with an affable grin. To demonstrate, he shifted his hips, frotting against the duvet.
"Well, go fuck yourself," said Pansy. "I'm spending the night in the guest room with my vibe."
The Consequences