Leigh!fic- 9 Crimes (1/1)- Ron Weasley/Lavender Brown
Title: 9 Crimes (1/1)
Author: leigh_adams
Characters: Ron Weasley/Lavender Brown
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,946
Summary: After an argument with his wife, Ron goes looking for a distraction and finds Lavender.
Author’s notes: So, this was pushing it a bit for me. I’m not a fan of cheating!Ron (or cheating period), but it was good to get the exercise as a writer. This was written for luvscharlie as part of the Summer Activity at hp_wishes. She requested Ron/Lavender smuts with the prompt ‘infidelity.’ I hope this was close to what you were looking for!
Ron hadn’t meant to be unfaithful to Hermione. He loved his wife; truly, he did. She was all he’d ever hoped to find in a woman. It was just... ever since Ginny had given birth to James, Hermione had been nagging him about having a baby. And while it wasn’t that he didn’t want children with her, he just wasn’t sure that he wanted them now. They were still young, after all. There was plenty of time for babies to come.
Later.
Hermione was nattering on about something- house elf rights or some other Ministry rot- over dinner, and it was all too easy to slip into old habits. All he had to do was nod occasionally and hum in agreement, and she never stopped to ask him what he was thinking. It was certain a blessing because if she’d known what he was thinking about...
Ron slammed the empty tumbler down onto the old wooden bar as his Firewhiskey burned its way down his throat. After another row with his wife, he just needed to get out of the house and get completely, utterly pissed. He was well on his way to that goal as the nearly-empty bottle behind the bar attested.
Merlin, but this was the second time this week that Hermione had kicked him out of bed! All because he had tried to explain, in a calm, collected manner, that he wasn’t ready for a baby. That didn’t make him juvenile, it made him human. But no, his perfect wife thought him childish because he still wanted to wait before they tried for children.
It was enough to give him a severe case of blue balls.
Under normal circumstances, he’d have called Harry to go with him, but his best mate and sister were busy with their newborn, so that was out of the question. Besides, if Ginny knew that he and Hermione had rowed again, she’d have his neck. Motherhood was making her wand hand even more twitchy than usual.
Lack of Harry was another reason he’d chosen this bar. The Shady Lady was an old, dilapidated pub halfway down Knockturn Alley. It was quiet, and all the other patrons kept to themselves. Of course, there were probably outstanding warrants on most of them, so Ron completely understood.
“Well, Ron Weasley,” a familiar feminine voice said behind him, “this is the last place I’d expect to see you.”
Ron turned and blinked several times. “Lavender?” he said, his reaction delayed from intoxication. “What’re you here?”
The blonde laughed and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, overwhelming him with the familiar scent of her hair. “I was just on my way home from work, and I thought I’d stop by and have a drink. You’re the last person I’d expect to see here, though.”
“Eh, I just needed some drink,” he said, waving his hand in a vague motion towards the surly old barkeep, who merely rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning mugs.
“I think you’ve had more than enough drink,” Lavender replied, eyes alight with amusement. Reaching out for him, she took his hand in hers and pulled him towards her. “Come on, you can have a drink at my place.”
If his internal sensors had been funcitoning properly, he would’ve known that this was bad, that he shouldn’t want to follow after her. But they weren’t, and Lavender’s hand was soft in his, and her perfume was sweet to the smell. “You live close?”
“Very,” she promised. She fished a few coins out of her small handbag and tossed them across the bar. “Thanks, Lucian.”
Ron didn’t hear the grumbled words from the barkeep. All he could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other as Lavender led him out into the dingy alley. The night air was cool, and a sharp wind whistled along the close confines, causing the lit torches to flicker and dance.
Lavender kept a tight grip on his hand as she led him further back into Knockturn, past Borgin and Burkes, and down to an old, decrepit building. She pushed the creaky wooden door open and tugged him inside, shutting it behind them.
Two flights of stairs later, and she finally tugged him into her flat. If it could even be called that; it was more of a bedroom with a small kitchen in one corner.
“Welcome home,” she said lightly, releasing his hand. “Want to sit down on the bed while I get us something to drink?”
“Hmm.” Ron didn’t form any coherent answer, but instead took her advice, flopping down onto the squeaky mattress. The bed was soft, with a worn quilt spread atop it, but it smelled like her. The entire flat did, really.
Though the untidyness of the room would make Hermione... No, he thought, not thinking ‘bout her right now.
“Here we are,” Lavender announced brightly, levitating two glasses of red wine across the room to him. “I’m out of whiskey, so I hope you don’t mind wine.”
“I dun mind,” he said, taking his glass from where it floated. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” she said, sitting down next to him. Her thigh was pressed against his, and she gave him a flirty smile as she took a sip of her own drink. “So, where’s Hermione?”
Ron made a noise in the back of his throat. “Dun wanna talk about her,” he slurred. “Bloody woman’s giving me blue balls.”
Lavender’s expression changed quickly, going from surprise to coy in a matter of seconds. “She won’t have sex with you? Why on earth not?”
“Wants a baby.”
“And you don’t?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. She does, and is all that matters now. Won’t shag me... hasn’t for a week.”
“Oh my,” the blonde replied over the rim of her glass. Her blue eyes were intent on his face before her gaze dropped down to his lap. “That must be painful.”
He nodded firmly. “Very.” Taking another sip of his wine, he didn’t even notice that Lavender had set her own glass down on the floor. He wouldn’t have noticed that she’d stopped talking or drinking except for her hand- her warm, small hand- on his thigh.
“You know,” she murmured, leaning in closer to him, “I can take care of that for you...”
Ron turned glassy eyes towards the blonde, surprised to find that her face was mere inches from his own. “Dun think is a good idea,” he managed to get out despite his keen awareness of her touch, her proximity.
“Why not?” she whispered, moving closer still. “Even when you were with her, my feelings for you... they never went away, Ron.” Before he could react, she closed the gap between them and pressed her soft lips against his.
He opened his mouth to protest, but before the words could get out, her tongue slipped between his lips, coaxing his own to come play. Her scent, her touch, her very being was overpowering his lowered inhibitions, and he groaned into her mouth as one hand slid into her long blonde tresses.
Lavender’s free hand took his wine from him and set it down on the floor next to her own before she placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. Her lips broke from his, and she trailed kisses down his neck as her hands went to his shirt, nimble fingers undoing the buttons one by one.
Again, he opened his mouth to protest but could only gasped when she flicked her hot tongue against a taut nipple. The hand in her hair fisted tighter, holding her lips against him, and his hips rolled against hers. He’d be suffering through a half-erection since she’d walked into the bar and now, with her body on top of his, his member was fully erect and straining against his trousers.
The little minx on top of him smiled and continued to trail her lips down his stomach. A whispered spell undid the button and fly of his trousers, and she hooked her fingers in the waistband to draw them down his long legs.
“Hermione’s loss is my gain,” she murmured seductively, rolling her gaze to meet his as she leaned over and took him deep into her mouth.
Ron moaned and jerked his hips against her lips, thrusting further into that pretty mouth of hers. If she kept this up much longer- kept scraping her teeth against him, swirling her tongue around him like he was a lolipop- then he wasn’t going to last long at all.
Gritting his teeth, he fought to maintain control for a few precious minutes before it became too much to bear. “Stop,” he gritted out, tugging at her hair.
She licked at him a few, tantalizing times more, then pulled away. “What’s wrong, Ron?” she asked innocently.
He tugged again, this time harder. “Wanna fuck,” he murmured.
Her smile turned into a cheshire cat grin, and she pulled back, peeling her little blue dress off to reveal creamy, white skin- and no bra or knickers.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Lavender replied as she slid up his body, straddling his waist and taking him into her warm, pliant body.
There was a hurried rhthym to their coupling, and Ron was mystified by the way Lavender’s petite breasts bounced as she rode him. Unable to resist, he slid his hands up to cup them, strumming his thumbs over her nipples.
“Again,” she moaned, and Ron’s lips twitched as he did as she requested, pinching and plucking at the dark buds. The breathy sighs and moans that fell from her lips were testaments to her desire, the desire that matched his owns as he thrust- faster, harder- into her wet heat.
Her body was tightening around him, gripping his member as her climax crept closer and closer. He let his hands slide over her body, one around to the small of her back to coax her to lean in closer. When she did, he reared his head up to take a pink nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around it as his other hand slid between her legs, fingers circling her swollen, sensitive nub.
“Oh, oh, Ron!” she screamed, back arching as her orgasm overtook her. Her body shuddered over him, and she continued to ride him as little waves of pleasure still coursed through her body.
Her release trigged his own, and he spilled into her with a ragged groan. With a few languid thrusts of his hips, he let himself flop back onto the bed, completely spent with a naked, nubile blond splayed out on top of him. He’d just cheated on his wife.
And it was the best sex he could remember in a long, long time.
“Ron?”
His gaze snapped up from his plate to find Hermione looking at him, waiting for his response. Fuck. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, what did you say?”
Hermione huffed and gave him a significant look. “I said that your mother owled and wanted to know if we’d be able to make it to Sunday dinner. Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”
He made an apologetic noise. “We’ll be there on Sunday,” he said, “I’ll owl her.”
“Good.”
His wife went back to her chattering, and Ron couldn’t help but steal a glance at the simple gold band on his left hand. It what he’d done had been so wrong, then why did it still feel so good?
Author: leigh_adams
Characters: Ron Weasley/Lavender Brown
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,946
Summary: After an argument with his wife, Ron goes looking for a distraction and finds Lavender.
Author’s notes: So, this was pushing it a bit for me. I’m not a fan of cheating!Ron (or cheating period), but it was good to get the exercise as a writer. This was written for luvscharlie as part of the Summer Activity at hp_wishes. She requested Ron/Lavender smuts with the prompt ‘infidelity.’ I hope this was close to what you were looking for!
Ron hadn’t meant to be unfaithful to Hermione. He loved his wife; truly, he did. She was all he’d ever hoped to find in a woman. It was just... ever since Ginny had given birth to James, Hermione had been nagging him about having a baby. And while it wasn’t that he didn’t want children with her, he just wasn’t sure that he wanted them now. They were still young, after all. There was plenty of time for babies to come.
Later.
Hermione was nattering on about something- house elf rights or some other Ministry rot- over dinner, and it was all too easy to slip into old habits. All he had to do was nod occasionally and hum in agreement, and she never stopped to ask him what he was thinking. It was certain a blessing because if she’d known what he was thinking about...
Ron slammed the empty tumbler down onto the old wooden bar as his Firewhiskey burned its way down his throat. After another row with his wife, he just needed to get out of the house and get completely, utterly pissed. He was well on his way to that goal as the nearly-empty bottle behind the bar attested.
Merlin, but this was the second time this week that Hermione had kicked him out of bed! All because he had tried to explain, in a calm, collected manner, that he wasn’t ready for a baby. That didn’t make him juvenile, it made him human. But no, his perfect wife thought him childish because he still wanted to wait before they tried for children.
It was enough to give him a severe case of blue balls.
Under normal circumstances, he’d have called Harry to go with him, but his best mate and sister were busy with their newborn, so that was out of the question. Besides, if Ginny knew that he and Hermione had rowed again, she’d have his neck. Motherhood was making her wand hand even more twitchy than usual.
Lack of Harry was another reason he’d chosen this bar. The Shady Lady was an old, dilapidated pub halfway down Knockturn Alley. It was quiet, and all the other patrons kept to themselves. Of course, there were probably outstanding warrants on most of them, so Ron completely understood.
“Well, Ron Weasley,” a familiar feminine voice said behind him, “this is the last place I’d expect to see you.”
Ron turned and blinked several times. “Lavender?” he said, his reaction delayed from intoxication. “What’re you here?”
The blonde laughed and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, overwhelming him with the familiar scent of her hair. “I was just on my way home from work, and I thought I’d stop by and have a drink. You’re the last person I’d expect to see here, though.”
“Eh, I just needed some drink,” he said, waving his hand in a vague motion towards the surly old barkeep, who merely rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning mugs.
“I think you’ve had more than enough drink,” Lavender replied, eyes alight with amusement. Reaching out for him, she took his hand in hers and pulled him towards her. “Come on, you can have a drink at my place.”
If his internal sensors had been funcitoning properly, he would’ve known that this was bad, that he shouldn’t want to follow after her. But they weren’t, and Lavender’s hand was soft in his, and her perfume was sweet to the smell. “You live close?”
“Very,” she promised. She fished a few coins out of her small handbag and tossed them across the bar. “Thanks, Lucian.”
Ron didn’t hear the grumbled words from the barkeep. All he could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other as Lavender led him out into the dingy alley. The night air was cool, and a sharp wind whistled along the close confines, causing the lit torches to flicker and dance.
Lavender kept a tight grip on his hand as she led him further back into Knockturn, past Borgin and Burkes, and down to an old, decrepit building. She pushed the creaky wooden door open and tugged him inside, shutting it behind them.
Two flights of stairs later, and she finally tugged him into her flat. If it could even be called that; it was more of a bedroom with a small kitchen in one corner.
“Welcome home,” she said lightly, releasing his hand. “Want to sit down on the bed while I get us something to drink?”
“Hmm.” Ron didn’t form any coherent answer, but instead took her advice, flopping down onto the squeaky mattress. The bed was soft, with a worn quilt spread atop it, but it smelled like her. The entire flat did, really.
Though the untidyness of the room would make Hermione... No, he thought, not thinking ‘bout her right now.
“Here we are,” Lavender announced brightly, levitating two glasses of red wine across the room to him. “I’m out of whiskey, so I hope you don’t mind wine.”
“I dun mind,” he said, taking his glass from where it floated. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” she said, sitting down next to him. Her thigh was pressed against his, and she gave him a flirty smile as she took a sip of her own drink. “So, where’s Hermione?”
Ron made a noise in the back of his throat. “Dun wanna talk about her,” he slurred. “Bloody woman’s giving me blue balls.”
Lavender’s expression changed quickly, going from surprise to coy in a matter of seconds. “She won’t have sex with you? Why on earth not?”
“Wants a baby.”
“And you don’t?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. She does, and is all that matters now. Won’t shag me... hasn’t for a week.”
“Oh my,” the blonde replied over the rim of her glass. Her blue eyes were intent on his face before her gaze dropped down to his lap. “That must be painful.”
He nodded firmly. “Very.” Taking another sip of his wine, he didn’t even notice that Lavender had set her own glass down on the floor. He wouldn’t have noticed that she’d stopped talking or drinking except for her hand- her warm, small hand- on his thigh.
“You know,” she murmured, leaning in closer to him, “I can take care of that for you...”
Ron turned glassy eyes towards the blonde, surprised to find that her face was mere inches from his own. “Dun think is a good idea,” he managed to get out despite his keen awareness of her touch, her proximity.
“Why not?” she whispered, moving closer still. “Even when you were with her, my feelings for you... they never went away, Ron.” Before he could react, she closed the gap between them and pressed her soft lips against his.
He opened his mouth to protest, but before the words could get out, her tongue slipped between his lips, coaxing his own to come play. Her scent, her touch, her very being was overpowering his lowered inhibitions, and he groaned into her mouth as one hand slid into her long blonde tresses.
Lavender’s free hand took his wine from him and set it down on the floor next to her own before she placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. Her lips broke from his, and she trailed kisses down his neck as her hands went to his shirt, nimble fingers undoing the buttons one by one.
Again, he opened his mouth to protest but could only gasped when she flicked her hot tongue against a taut nipple. The hand in her hair fisted tighter, holding her lips against him, and his hips rolled against hers. He’d be suffering through a half-erection since she’d walked into the bar and now, with her body on top of his, his member was fully erect and straining against his trousers.
The little minx on top of him smiled and continued to trail her lips down his stomach. A whispered spell undid the button and fly of his trousers, and she hooked her fingers in the waistband to draw them down his long legs.
“Hermione’s loss is my gain,” she murmured seductively, rolling her gaze to meet his as she leaned over and took him deep into her mouth.
Ron moaned and jerked his hips against her lips, thrusting further into that pretty mouth of hers. If she kept this up much longer- kept scraping her teeth against him, swirling her tongue around him like he was a lolipop- then he wasn’t going to last long at all.
Gritting his teeth, he fought to maintain control for a few precious minutes before it became too much to bear. “Stop,” he gritted out, tugging at her hair.
She licked at him a few, tantalizing times more, then pulled away. “What’s wrong, Ron?” she asked innocently.
He tugged again, this time harder. “Wanna fuck,” he murmured.
Her smile turned into a cheshire cat grin, and she pulled back, peeling her little blue dress off to reveal creamy, white skin- and no bra or knickers.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Lavender replied as she slid up his body, straddling his waist and taking him into her warm, pliant body.
There was a hurried rhthym to their coupling, and Ron was mystified by the way Lavender’s petite breasts bounced as she rode him. Unable to resist, he slid his hands up to cup them, strumming his thumbs over her nipples.
“Again,” she moaned, and Ron’s lips twitched as he did as she requested, pinching and plucking at the dark buds. The breathy sighs and moans that fell from her lips were testaments to her desire, the desire that matched his owns as he thrust- faster, harder- into her wet heat.
Her body was tightening around him, gripping his member as her climax crept closer and closer. He let his hands slide over her body, one around to the small of her back to coax her to lean in closer. When she did, he reared his head up to take a pink nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around it as his other hand slid between her legs, fingers circling her swollen, sensitive nub.
“Oh, oh, Ron!” she screamed, back arching as her orgasm overtook her. Her body shuddered over him, and she continued to ride him as little waves of pleasure still coursed through her body.
Her release trigged his own, and he spilled into her with a ragged groan. With a few languid thrusts of his hips, he let himself flop back onto the bed, completely spent with a naked, nubile blond splayed out on top of him. He’d just cheated on his wife.
And it was the best sex he could remember in a long, long time.
“Ron?”
His gaze snapped up from his plate to find Hermione looking at him, waiting for his response. Fuck. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, what did you say?”
Hermione huffed and gave him a significant look. “I said that your mother owled and wanted to know if we’d be able to make it to Sunday dinner. Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”
He made an apologetic noise. “We’ll be there on Sunday,” he said, “I’ll owl her.”
“Good.”
His wife went back to her chattering, and Ron couldn’t help but steal a glance at the simple gold band on his left hand. It what he’d done had been so wrong, then why did it still feel so good?