Fic: Operation Weasley Jumper
Dec. 20th, 2011 02:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mini_festTitle: Operation Weasley Jumper
Author: ???
Rating: Adult
Characters: Ron/Pansy
Prompt(s): Number 169 - Ron/Pansy. Ron's taking Pansy for her first Weasley Christmas, but first, he has to get her into the jumper. :)
Warnings: None
Summary: Pansy is spending Christmas at the Burrow for the first time. There are certain traditions that cannot be ignored. The Weasley Jumper!
Word Count: 2450
Disclaimer: All characters described here and the world in which they live belong to JK Rowling.
A/N: My thanks to R and G who were kind enough to beta for me.
Molly Weasley had never really taken to her youngest daughter in law. She had never really taken to any of the women who had come before this particular one either. She had found Hermione Granger tolerable but otherwise rather too much of a busy-body. Lavender Brown had been a scatterbrained air-head, and Mandy Brocklehurst had been too aloof and anti-social. But Pansy Parkinson, as undesirable daughters-in-law went, really took the cake. Arrogant, snooty and from an absolutely appalling family. Death Eaters, the lot of them.
Molly sometimes wondered if Ronald fell for these women merely in order to bother her. To her dismay, however, Pansy had somehow managed to stick around and was now showing off a modest engagement ring, the size of which Molly was certain Pansy had complained about to everybody else she knew. She seemed like that sort of girl.
Of course Molly had never voiced any of her reservations about Pansy out loud to the girl's face, but she had managed to make her feelings quite well known anyway through excessive politeness and friendliness. She insisted that Pansy was 'one of the family' and that 'it feels like you were always here, dear,' and went out of her way to involve her in every little task around the house. How wonderful it was to watch the hoity-toity pureblood princess peel potatoes. Molly would bet she had never tried that before.
Ron, having noticed his mother's attempts at smothering Pansy in affection and familiarity and hoping the girl would choke on it, had wondered briefly whether or not he ought to intervene. Eventually he decided that, Gryffindor or not, he was rather too much of a coward to confront his mother about it. Unless, of course, Pansy told him to, but he hoped it would never turn out to be necessary. As it was, he was definitely not about to inform his mother that Pansy, who had never had the chance to learn to cook while growing up, was taking full advantage of learning as many of Molly's tricks as she could.
This year would be the first time Pansy would spend Christmas at the Burrow, and Molly was determined not to let Pansy's more expensive ways, tastes and expectations change a single thing about it. Everything would be strictly according to Weasley traditions. Everything. Even if she had to invent some new traditions just to bother the girl.
One of these traditions had just been delivered to Ron by owl post. A large soft package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string in a neat bow around it. When he opened it, Ron found a note and something knitted. Holding it up in front of him with stretched arms, Ron took in the sight of the bright red jumper and the big green P. He did not need to read the note to know that his mother fully expected Pansy to be wearing the jumper for Christmas and that she would be deeply offended if Pansy refused. His mother would act like it did not matter at all, but she would make sure to do it sufficiently badly that everybody knew without a doubt that it did very much matter.
"Oh, bloody hell!"
It was imperative that he did not let anything on. To sound like this was the most natural thing in the world for him to ask of Pansy and that he did not very well know that it was a remarkably hideous jumper and what his mother's true intentions with it were . Cool. Calm. Natural. And for the love of cake, NOT in any way uncertain.
"What was that, dear?" Pansy asked, coming in from the other room.
Dammit! Ron hastily hid the jumper inside the brown paper again. He was not ready. He had to think of some sort of gentle way to broach the subject before he could show her the jumper.
"Oh, it's nothing," he said, a little too quickly and far too panicky.
Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly. She was not buying that for a split second.
"You are the most appallingly bad liar I have ever met, Ronald Weasley," she said and came closer to the table. Ron tried to discreetly pull the wrapping paper down a little more securely over the jumper, attempting with all his might to make it look natural. Despite his best efforts, a few corners of red and green yarn were still sticking out here and there.
"Show me."
It was not a request. Ron reluctantly pushed the whole mess towards her – wrapping paper and everything – and mentally prepared himself for the reaction he knew would come. Pansy's voice had a tendency to turn unpleasantly shrill when she was angry.
As Pansy lifted the jumper out of the wrapping, holding it up in front of her to get a good look at it, she was completely silent. Ron chanced a cautious look at her face, trying to gauge her thoughts. Then she took in a deep breath, neatly folded the jumper, placed it back inside the wrapping paper and pushed the whole thing back towards Ron.
"You can inform your mother," she said calmly, "that she can forget about it."
He had known she would refuse from the moment he had seen the jumper, and he had feverishly struggled to come up with compelling arguments that would make her agree to wear the thing just this once in her life. Myriads of possibilities had been considered and discarded in some of the fastest thinking Ron had ever done. The problem was that for all his attempts, he was still no closer to a solution, and he had absolutely nothing with which to persuade her to do anything at all.
"Oh come on, Panse! It's tradition!" Well, a weak attempt was still an attempt, but he was utterly unsurprised to see it was not working. She merely rolled her eyes and turned to leave.
"Tradition or not, there's always room for reinvention," Pansy said, casting another disparaging glance at the ghastly garment over her shoulder. "I am not wearing that... thing."
Ron sighed. If he pressed the issue, Pansy would get more and more stubborn about it. The more he nagged her, the less likely she was to give in and the more likely she was to be irritated for days. If she did not give in and wore the stupid jumper for Christmas, his mother would take great pleasure in playing mortally offended that Pansy had rejected her present.
Either way Ron was, to put it bluntly, screwed. He just had to get her into that jumper!
******
He found her in the kitchen putting the final touches on an only slightly blackened roasted chicken. With his arms around her from behind, he held the jumper up in front of her chest and nibbled at the side of her neck.
"Have I ever told you," he murmured in her ear, "how hot you look in red?"
"Ronald, I'm cooking!" she protested, squirming away from him. "And I'm not wearing that jumper. How many times do I have to tell you? She's only doing it to humiliate me, and you know it."
Ron tightened his embrace, fondling her breasts through the knitwear.
"Come on, Panse! I bet you'll look really sexy in it."
Pansy turned around, a scowl on her face, although Ron noted that she was careful not to leave his embrace as she did. Before she could deliver whatever remark about the offending garment she had in mind, he kissed her to the very best of his abilities. He enjoyed kissing Pansy under any and all circumstances, the small casual pecks in passing as well as the deeper kisses in moments of passion. These were the latter sort, and he threw every bit of passion he could muster into it.
The effect, he noted with satisfaction when they came up for air, was clear. Pansy was leaning slightly against him, as if she felt uncertain of her own ability to stay upright, and there was a glazed look in her eyes.
It had not been entirely without result on his end either, and he pressed his erection against her hip, making her aware of its presence.
"Try it on, Pansy," he murmured in her ear, grasping her bottom firmly with both hands, pressing himself against her sex. "For me. Please?"
She sighed. It was a sign partly of resignation but mostly of the promise of pleasure. Ron knew he had won the first battle but not yet the war.
"Fine. But just this once."
He held the jumper for her while she took off her shirt and bra and bent down to let his tongue play with her nipple for a brief moment until the jumper slid down to cover her breasts again.
"It's itchy!" she complained with a grimace and squirmed to scratch at her shoulder.
"We'll charm it," Ron said, pulling down the zipper of her skirt, letting that too fall to the floor along with her knickers.
He took a step back to fully take in the sight of Pansy wearing nothing but a Weasley jumper. No doubt about it; his mother really had gone out of her way to make it look as unflattering as she could. The red and green colours made it look almost like a test for colour blindness and neither hue suited Pansy at all. Even Ron could see that. It was also slightly too large and completely hid her figure. He could not tell for sure without measuring, but it was not impossible that the sleeves were not even the same length. It was probably the least sexy garment that Ron had ever seen in his life.
And yet the sight of her in it made his cock strain against his trousers, and he felt short of breath. He had fully expected to lie through his teeth at this point, but to his surprise it did not seem to be necessary at all. She was wearing a Weasley jumper, even though he knew it was very much against her will, and she was doing it for him.
"Phwoar...."
"How eloquent, Ronald," Pansy said dryly, but there was a satisfied smirk pulling at her lips.
"Turn around for me."
Pansy did a small pirouette, but she only managed a half turn before Ron caught her in his arms again, pressing himself against her body. He slid his hands up underneath the jumper to her breasts, cupping them and playing with her hard nipples.
"You look so hot..." he whispered against the skin of her neck.
"Wearing this? You have warped taste..." she moaned and added, "oh yes!" as Ron moved his hand down her stomach and between her legs, his middle finger just precisely not touching her clit. She wriggled in protest, and Ron groaned as her bottom rubbed so wonderfully against his cock.
He was not going to last long if she kept doing that, and he was beginning to suspect that she was doing it on purpose. She knew her arse was his favourite part of her body. All round and just right for the size of his hands, not to mention the way it moved when she walked. He could get hard just watching her walk away. Damn her Slytherin wiles, using it against him like this!
"Stop! Stop!" he gasped, trying hard not to come in his pants.
"Only if you finger me properly." Ron could almost hear the smirk as she said it.
"If I do that, will you wear the jumper for Christmas?"
"No, if you do that, I will stop doing this." He bit his lip as she demonstrated by pressing back against him even harder.
"You're a tough negotiator."
"I'm not negotiating," Pansy said matter-of-factly. "I'm stating demands. Now get on with it, please."
Ron decided it was probably best to do as she said, or this whole encounter would be over very soon indeed. Pansy moaned in satisfaction as he moved his fingers in and out of her body, his thumb attending to her clit. He was smugly pleased by how quickly she was approaching climax, if the sounds she was making were anything to go by. They usually were.
He stopped what he thought must be seconds before she came and finally opened and pushed down his trousers.
"You stopped! You bastard!"
Ron grinned.
"Are you ready for negotiation now?" he asked, pressing his cock against her.
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want you to do, Pansy."
"Fine, I'll wear the bleeding jumper!" she said sharply, her tone of voice somewhere in between irritation and desperation. "Just get on with it!"
Slowly, he let himself slide into her body. She was so soft and warm, it was difficult to keep his wits about him.
"Just think," he told her breathlessly as he started moving, "what Mum would think if she knew what you have been doing while wearing it."
"Oh, yes!" Evidently, Slytherin that she was, Pansy found that an attractive thought. For Ron, though, the subject of his mother was rather a turn off. It took considerable effort to fully banish all thoughts of his mother from his mind and concentrate on Pansy, but before long he was once again struggling not to come too soon.
There was no way he was going to be able to hold it much longer. He reached his hand down and found her clit, hoping that he could send her over the edge first. However, he had barely touched it before he lost all control. As his cock softened and slipped out of her, he kept rubbing her clit until she too came with a shudder.
He had to admit it was not his most elegant performance, but it had still made her promise to wear the jumper. As desperate plans went, this had been a rather successful one.
*****
There was not a small amount of smugness in Molly's smile as she greeted Pansy with an exaggerated display of fondness on Christmas Day, hugging her and calling her 'dearie.' As she was being hugged, Pansy shot Ron an equally as smug smirk over her mother-in-law's shoulder. Ron could only hope that Pansy would never tell anybody how exactly he had finally convinced her to wear the jumper. His mother would have a heart attack if she ever found out.
He smiled back at his fiancée, thankful that he had had enough forethought to cast the glamour on his trousers. It was already hiding the initial stages of his erection.
Pansy really did look sexy in that jumper.
The end
Author: ???
Rating: Adult
Characters: Ron/Pansy
Prompt(s): Number 169 - Ron/Pansy. Ron's taking Pansy for her first Weasley Christmas, but first, he has to get her into the jumper. :)
Warnings: None
Summary: Pansy is spending Christmas at the Burrow for the first time. There are certain traditions that cannot be ignored. The Weasley Jumper!
Word Count: 2450
Disclaimer: All characters described here and the world in which they live belong to JK Rowling.
A/N: My thanks to R and G who were kind enough to beta for me.
Molly Weasley had never really taken to her youngest daughter in law. She had never really taken to any of the women who had come before this particular one either. She had found Hermione Granger tolerable but otherwise rather too much of a busy-body. Lavender Brown had been a scatterbrained air-head, and Mandy Brocklehurst had been too aloof and anti-social. But Pansy Parkinson, as undesirable daughters-in-law went, really took the cake. Arrogant, snooty and from an absolutely appalling family. Death Eaters, the lot of them.
Molly sometimes wondered if Ronald fell for these women merely in order to bother her. To her dismay, however, Pansy had somehow managed to stick around and was now showing off a modest engagement ring, the size of which Molly was certain Pansy had complained about to everybody else she knew. She seemed like that sort of girl.
Of course Molly had never voiced any of her reservations about Pansy out loud to the girl's face, but she had managed to make her feelings quite well known anyway through excessive politeness and friendliness. She insisted that Pansy was 'one of the family' and that 'it feels like you were always here, dear,' and went out of her way to involve her in every little task around the house. How wonderful it was to watch the hoity-toity pureblood princess peel potatoes. Molly would bet she had never tried that before.
Ron, having noticed his mother's attempts at smothering Pansy in affection and familiarity and hoping the girl would choke on it, had wondered briefly whether or not he ought to intervene. Eventually he decided that, Gryffindor or not, he was rather too much of a coward to confront his mother about it. Unless, of course, Pansy told him to, but he hoped it would never turn out to be necessary. As it was, he was definitely not about to inform his mother that Pansy, who had never had the chance to learn to cook while growing up, was taking full advantage of learning as many of Molly's tricks as she could.
This year would be the first time Pansy would spend Christmas at the Burrow, and Molly was determined not to let Pansy's more expensive ways, tastes and expectations change a single thing about it. Everything would be strictly according to Weasley traditions. Everything. Even if she had to invent some new traditions just to bother the girl.
One of these traditions had just been delivered to Ron by owl post. A large soft package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string in a neat bow around it. When he opened it, Ron found a note and something knitted. Holding it up in front of him with stretched arms, Ron took in the sight of the bright red jumper and the big green P. He did not need to read the note to know that his mother fully expected Pansy to be wearing the jumper for Christmas and that she would be deeply offended if Pansy refused. His mother would act like it did not matter at all, but she would make sure to do it sufficiently badly that everybody knew without a doubt that it did very much matter.
"Oh, bloody hell!"
It was imperative that he did not let anything on. To sound like this was the most natural thing in the world for him to ask of Pansy and that he did not very well know that it was a remarkably hideous jumper and what his mother's true intentions with it were . Cool. Calm. Natural. And for the love of cake, NOT in any way uncertain.
"What was that, dear?" Pansy asked, coming in from the other room.
Dammit! Ron hastily hid the jumper inside the brown paper again. He was not ready. He had to think of some sort of gentle way to broach the subject before he could show her the jumper.
"Oh, it's nothing," he said, a little too quickly and far too panicky.
Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly. She was not buying that for a split second.
"You are the most appallingly bad liar I have ever met, Ronald Weasley," she said and came closer to the table. Ron tried to discreetly pull the wrapping paper down a little more securely over the jumper, attempting with all his might to make it look natural. Despite his best efforts, a few corners of red and green yarn were still sticking out here and there.
"Show me."
It was not a request. Ron reluctantly pushed the whole mess towards her – wrapping paper and everything – and mentally prepared himself for the reaction he knew would come. Pansy's voice had a tendency to turn unpleasantly shrill when she was angry.
As Pansy lifted the jumper out of the wrapping, holding it up in front of her to get a good look at it, she was completely silent. Ron chanced a cautious look at her face, trying to gauge her thoughts. Then she took in a deep breath, neatly folded the jumper, placed it back inside the wrapping paper and pushed the whole thing back towards Ron.
"You can inform your mother," she said calmly, "that she can forget about it."
He had known she would refuse from the moment he had seen the jumper, and he had feverishly struggled to come up with compelling arguments that would make her agree to wear the thing just this once in her life. Myriads of possibilities had been considered and discarded in some of the fastest thinking Ron had ever done. The problem was that for all his attempts, he was still no closer to a solution, and he had absolutely nothing with which to persuade her to do anything at all.
"Oh come on, Panse! It's tradition!" Well, a weak attempt was still an attempt, but he was utterly unsurprised to see it was not working. She merely rolled her eyes and turned to leave.
"Tradition or not, there's always room for reinvention," Pansy said, casting another disparaging glance at the ghastly garment over her shoulder. "I am not wearing that... thing."
Ron sighed. If he pressed the issue, Pansy would get more and more stubborn about it. The more he nagged her, the less likely she was to give in and the more likely she was to be irritated for days. If she did not give in and wore the stupid jumper for Christmas, his mother would take great pleasure in playing mortally offended that Pansy had rejected her present.
Either way Ron was, to put it bluntly, screwed. He just had to get her into that jumper!
******
He found her in the kitchen putting the final touches on an only slightly blackened roasted chicken. With his arms around her from behind, he held the jumper up in front of her chest and nibbled at the side of her neck.
"Have I ever told you," he murmured in her ear, "how hot you look in red?"
"Ronald, I'm cooking!" she protested, squirming away from him. "And I'm not wearing that jumper. How many times do I have to tell you? She's only doing it to humiliate me, and you know it."
Ron tightened his embrace, fondling her breasts through the knitwear.
"Come on, Panse! I bet you'll look really sexy in it."
Pansy turned around, a scowl on her face, although Ron noted that she was careful not to leave his embrace as she did. Before she could deliver whatever remark about the offending garment she had in mind, he kissed her to the very best of his abilities. He enjoyed kissing Pansy under any and all circumstances, the small casual pecks in passing as well as the deeper kisses in moments of passion. These were the latter sort, and he threw every bit of passion he could muster into it.
The effect, he noted with satisfaction when they came up for air, was clear. Pansy was leaning slightly against him, as if she felt uncertain of her own ability to stay upright, and there was a glazed look in her eyes.
It had not been entirely without result on his end either, and he pressed his erection against her hip, making her aware of its presence.
"Try it on, Pansy," he murmured in her ear, grasping her bottom firmly with both hands, pressing himself against her sex. "For me. Please?"
She sighed. It was a sign partly of resignation but mostly of the promise of pleasure. Ron knew he had won the first battle but not yet the war.
"Fine. But just this once."
He held the jumper for her while she took off her shirt and bra and bent down to let his tongue play with her nipple for a brief moment until the jumper slid down to cover her breasts again.
"It's itchy!" she complained with a grimace and squirmed to scratch at her shoulder.
"We'll charm it," Ron said, pulling down the zipper of her skirt, letting that too fall to the floor along with her knickers.
He took a step back to fully take in the sight of Pansy wearing nothing but a Weasley jumper. No doubt about it; his mother really had gone out of her way to make it look as unflattering as she could. The red and green colours made it look almost like a test for colour blindness and neither hue suited Pansy at all. Even Ron could see that. It was also slightly too large and completely hid her figure. He could not tell for sure without measuring, but it was not impossible that the sleeves were not even the same length. It was probably the least sexy garment that Ron had ever seen in his life.
And yet the sight of her in it made his cock strain against his trousers, and he felt short of breath. He had fully expected to lie through his teeth at this point, but to his surprise it did not seem to be necessary at all. She was wearing a Weasley jumper, even though he knew it was very much against her will, and she was doing it for him.
"Phwoar...."
"How eloquent, Ronald," Pansy said dryly, but there was a satisfied smirk pulling at her lips.
"Turn around for me."
Pansy did a small pirouette, but she only managed a half turn before Ron caught her in his arms again, pressing himself against her body. He slid his hands up underneath the jumper to her breasts, cupping them and playing with her hard nipples.
"You look so hot..." he whispered against the skin of her neck.
"Wearing this? You have warped taste..." she moaned and added, "oh yes!" as Ron moved his hand down her stomach and between her legs, his middle finger just precisely not touching her clit. She wriggled in protest, and Ron groaned as her bottom rubbed so wonderfully against his cock.
He was not going to last long if she kept doing that, and he was beginning to suspect that she was doing it on purpose. She knew her arse was his favourite part of her body. All round and just right for the size of his hands, not to mention the way it moved when she walked. He could get hard just watching her walk away. Damn her Slytherin wiles, using it against him like this!
"Stop! Stop!" he gasped, trying hard not to come in his pants.
"Only if you finger me properly." Ron could almost hear the smirk as she said it.
"If I do that, will you wear the jumper for Christmas?"
"No, if you do that, I will stop doing this." He bit his lip as she demonstrated by pressing back against him even harder.
"You're a tough negotiator."
"I'm not negotiating," Pansy said matter-of-factly. "I'm stating demands. Now get on with it, please."
Ron decided it was probably best to do as she said, or this whole encounter would be over very soon indeed. Pansy moaned in satisfaction as he moved his fingers in and out of her body, his thumb attending to her clit. He was smugly pleased by how quickly she was approaching climax, if the sounds she was making were anything to go by. They usually were.
He stopped what he thought must be seconds before she came and finally opened and pushed down his trousers.
"You stopped! You bastard!"
Ron grinned.
"Are you ready for negotiation now?" he asked, pressing his cock against her.
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want you to do, Pansy."
"Fine, I'll wear the bleeding jumper!" she said sharply, her tone of voice somewhere in between irritation and desperation. "Just get on with it!"
Slowly, he let himself slide into her body. She was so soft and warm, it was difficult to keep his wits about him.
"Just think," he told her breathlessly as he started moving, "what Mum would think if she knew what you have been doing while wearing it."
"Oh, yes!" Evidently, Slytherin that she was, Pansy found that an attractive thought. For Ron, though, the subject of his mother was rather a turn off. It took considerable effort to fully banish all thoughts of his mother from his mind and concentrate on Pansy, but before long he was once again struggling not to come too soon.
There was no way he was going to be able to hold it much longer. He reached his hand down and found her clit, hoping that he could send her over the edge first. However, he had barely touched it before he lost all control. As his cock softened and slipped out of her, he kept rubbing her clit until she too came with a shudder.
He had to admit it was not his most elegant performance, but it had still made her promise to wear the jumper. As desperate plans went, this had been a rather successful one.
*****
There was not a small amount of smugness in Molly's smile as she greeted Pansy with an exaggerated display of fondness on Christmas Day, hugging her and calling her 'dearie.' As she was being hugged, Pansy shot Ron an equally as smug smirk over her mother-in-law's shoulder. Ron could only hope that Pansy would never tell anybody how exactly he had finally convinced her to wear the jumper. His mother would have a heart attack if she ever found out.
He smiled back at his fiancée, thankful that he had had enough forethought to cast the glamour on his trousers. It was already hiding the initial stages of his erection.
Pansy really did look sexy in that jumper.
The end
