Title: Barefootin'
Author: misfit_ragdoll
Characters: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley
Rating: R to NC-17
Warnings: fluff, pregnancy
Themes/kinks chosen: foot massage
Word Count: ~1675
Summary: Arthur finds a way to distract Molly from the summer heat
Author's notes: Thanks to katesque, inell and r_grayjoy for their unbelievable support and cheerleading. Note that despite my best efforts, Bill found his way into this fic too (however peripherally...)



He came home from work at the regular time, exhausted and drained, the sweltering summer heat already causing him to wilt. Luckily, the house was cool, at least cooler than his tiny broom cupboard sized office at the Ministry. Not surprisingly, the Climate Charms in that section of the building were on the fritz, effectively reducing his work area to a scorching oven.

"Arthur? Arthur, is that you?" he heard his wife call from the parlour.

"Yes, Mollywobbles, it's me," Arthur called, struggling out of his all too warm robes and dusting off some stray Floo soot from his trousers before going to her. "How are you, love?"

Molly lay on the sofa in the parlour, her round face pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her bright red hair sticking to her temples in unruly, damp curls. Arthur couldn't help but smile as he caught sight of his lovely bride, her arms resting across the swell of her belly, the thin cotton sundress she wore accentuating her curves. "I'm tired," she finally admitted, lifting her head up to look at him, "and my feet are swollen something awful. I've spent most of the day trying to tidy up this place and set it to rights. I'm not certain I've gotten very far."

"Now, now, Molly, remember what the Healers said," Arthur chided, coming over to kiss her gently on the forehead. "You're not supposed to exert yourself. You need to take care of yourself and the baby."

"Well, someone's got to do it, haven't they?" Molly snapped. "And seeing as how I am the only person here while you're off at work till all hours, it all boils down to me, doesn't it, Arthur Weasley?" The Burrow was most certainly a fixer-upper, given to them as a wedding present by one of Arthur's uncles, but it was all they could afford at the moment given Arthur's salary.

"Of course it does, dear, but you mustn't push yourself," Arthur crouched down, smoothing her damp hair back. He felt guilty about leaving her here on her own to make the house liveable but he couldn't take any more time off, not if he wanted to put food on the table and buy things for the baby's nursery. "You're no good to me or our babe if you wear yourself out completely."

Molly frowned, then let out a sigh of frustration. "I just want us to have a nice home, Arthur. A place you can be proud to come home to every night, where our children can grown up and not be embarrassed by—"

Anything else his wife was going to say was cut off as Arthur leaned over, covering her mouth with his own, kissing her intently. He had been in love with the woman from the first time he'd laid eyes on her, a first year to his second, proudly joining him at the Gryffindor table, but sometimes, she drove him mad. Their time together had taught him that there were very few ways to keep her quiet, this being one of the most effective. Of course, it had taken several years in order to suss that out.

However, right now, it had the desired effect. By the time Arthur came up for air, Molly had calmed down, lying against the cushions with a slightly dazed look in her eyes, her breathing slow, if a little heavy.

"Now," Arthur said slowly, tracing his fingertip along the line of her jaw and down her neck to brush between the cleft of her breasts. "You've clearly had a hard day, my love. What can I do to make it better?"

She flashed him a pointed look and then snorted. "Honestly, Arthur, if you don't know the answer to that by now then there's just no hope for you, is there?"

Arthur felt himself his cheeks growing warm. "Well, considering the state you're in, I'd say I might know it a little bit too well." They'd certainly been intimate before they'd gotten married; it was what had prompted their elopement only two months before. He and Molly had always intended to get married once she'd left school. The surprise of a baby on the way had only moved their plans up a little bit as well as ending any hint of parental disapproval, especially from the Prewett side. Molly's father could hardly say he was unsuitable as a husband when he'd rushed to make an honest woman of her. There were times when Arthur wondered whether Molly had planned all of that, but he didn't like to think of his bride as being quite that calculating.

"There is that," Molly murmured, sighing with contentment as Arthur's hands roamed over the curve of her breasts, full and round. He kneaded the soft globes gently, feeling her nipples hardening at his touch.

"Like that, do you?" Arthur skimmed his hands down further, caressing her full belly, just six months along, planting kisses in their wake. He thought he could feel the baby move beneath them; his boy, their boy, strong and healthy and aware.

"Mmm, yes," she replied, leaning back, her eyes fluttering closed.

Arthur continued to caress her, moving down further, along her firm thighs, her shapely calves, her slim ankles, her delicate feet. Kneeling on the rug next to the sofa, he took her feet in hand. He began to knead them firmly, using his thumbs to press hard against her arches, smiling to himself as he heard more contented sighs and soft moans from Molly's lips.

Lavishing attention on his wife was one of the things Arthur loved best in the world, especially when she made such delightful noises; the sounds travelled straight to his groin, causing a familiar tightening sensation. He pressed his lips to the top of her foot, kissing his way up to her ankle, then down again along her warm, smooth skin until he reached her toes. Each toe was covered with soft kisses and quick brushes of his tongue, lapping between them, Molly responding with growing fervour.

Sliding her big toe into his mouth, he sucked gently, letting his tongue swirl around it as he continued to massage her instep with deft fingers. He felt Molly's other foot snaking down his chest to his waist, saw her knowing smirk as she planted it squarely on his crotch and began to move it in a slow, circular motion. Arthur stifled a groan, sucking harder now, unable to keep his hips from rocking forward as her bare toes teased him through his trousers, her heel creating exquisite pressure on his bollocks.

He ran the flat of his fingernail along the bottom of her foot, eliciting a girlish squeal from his wife. However, it didn’t do the slightest in terms of deterring her from what she'd been doing to him. "Molly…" he moaned, his eyes locking on hers.

"Yes, Arthur-dear?" she asked, blinking at him in feigned innocence.

"You're driving me mad," he managed, unable to keep himself from rubbing against her flat of her foot.

"I think that was rather the point."
"Well, I think we should do something about it, shouldn't we?"

"And by we, you do mean I should, don't you?" Molly replied silkily, moving her foot just so, causing Arthur's breath to catch in his throat.

"Not q-quite, my dear," he stammered, leaning forward to run one hand up the length of her leg to caress her inner thigh, still cradling her foot tenderly with the other. The crotch of her knickers was damp and warm as it brushed against his wrist. He pushed aside the sodden fabric, letting his fingertips explore along coarse curls and against slick, soft flesh.

Molly mewled, writhing at his touch, increasing the pressure of her foot against his now aching erection. Arthur responded by drawing her other foot back up to his lips, licking at her plump toes, his thumb moving in slow circles along the sole while the fingers of his wand hand worked in tandem around the nub of her clit.

"Oh, Arthur!" She bucked up against his hand, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm, her cries growing louder as he continued relentlessly, determined to make her feel as good as was humanly possible.

He couldn't stop if he'd wanted to, not when her movements were growing more and more frantic, her moans more urgent…and then she was climaxing, throwing her head back and keening his name, her back arched, her ripe body shaking with pleasure. Arthur waited until she slumped against the sofa cushions, a beatific smile on her now-flushed face before removing her foot from his still throbbing crotch and making his way painfully back to the other end of the sofa.

"There, there, now…feel better?" he asked, kissing her softly, his heart skipping a beat as Molly gazed up at him with a dazed expression.

"Mmm, quite." She reached up lazily, mussing his hair. "You really are the best husband in the whole world."

"I do try, my love," he replied, kissing her again.

"What about you?" she asked, struggling to get into a sitting position. "You haven't…"

Arthur blushed. "Well, no. Not as yet. I thought we might continue somewhere more comfortable for the both of us. Besides," he added, "I didn't want to get my clothing dirty. No use in giving you more laundry to do, is there?"

Molly laughed. "Attentive and considerate. I knew there was a reason I married you, Arthur Weasley." She put a hand on her belly. "Aside from this, of course. And before you ask, no, I'm not sorry. Not sorry in the least. Now let's get somewhere more comfortable so we can continue. I'd hardly be a proper wife if I didn't attend to my husband's needs."

The almost-feral glint in her eye let Arthur know she'd be doing far more than merely 'attending'. He offered her a hand up, once again utterly grateful for such an amazing girl as Molly in his life.