Fic Request Fulfilled for naiad8
Title: Forget-Me-Not
Author: lunalovepotter
Beta: the_vixxmeister
Rating: R/NC-17
Word count: 4401
Summary: Hermione believes that Ron has forgotten Valentine's Day. But she is very wrong.
Warnings:
Disclaimer: All characters are property of JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Notes: Happy Valentine's Day to naiad8, and thanks a bunch to my beta, the_vixxmeister!
On principle, Hermione Granger-Weasley did not subscribe to the idea of 'manufactured romance'; the preconceived notion that a person had to buy gifts to show his or her love for their partner simply rubbed her the wrong way. However, that didn't stop her from waking up every Valentine's Day with a sense of anticipation, because her husband did in fact subscribe to the idea, to the point of excess. She would always feign astonishment at the plethora of little gifts and gestures he would bestow on that particular day, but secretly deep down she loved every second of it; and on some level Hermione knew that Ron knew her true feelings about Valentine's Day, which was why he went overboard.
Since Valentine's Day fell on a Saturday that year, Hermione was fully expecting - and looking forward to - a quiet, romantic day with just her and Ron. She'd purposely stayed late at work last night to make sure everything was done and that she wouldn't have to go into the office at all, as she usually did on Saturdays. But when she turned onto her side in bed, intending to nestle her five months' pregnant belly against Ron's back, she was startled by the sight of an empty pillow, and blankets that had been haphazardly pushed down on Ron's side of the bed. The sheets were still fairly warm so she could assume that he hadn't been up very long, but the mere fact that he had left the bed was mildly disconcerting.
Then she smiled; he'd probably gotten up early to prepare her breakfast in bed. Appeased, she sat up, propped herself against the pillows and pulled the blankets to her waist. She folded her hands in her lap with her eyes trained on the door, and waited. Ron had inherited almost none of his mum's aptitude for cooking - his specialty was toast with marmalade - but the effort he put into it made up for that.
It was only after several minutes had passed in which she heard no sounds coming from the other side of the bedroom door that Hermione finally took it upon herself to get up, put on her robe, and go out to investigate.
"Hermione - George managed to get his hands on two tickets to the Cannons-Hornets match today in Hampshire. The match is at ten, and we'll probably go for beers afterward so I expect I'll be home by four o'clock tonight. See you later. Kiss the baby for me. I love you, Ron. "
Hermione's shoulders tensed and she pursed her lips as she read the note again. Quidditch. He'd gone to a Quidditch match. On Valentine's Day. With George, no less. She didn't expect Angelina would be happy about that either, until she remembered that Angie was away visiting her ill grandmother until Wednesday, so George was essentially free to do as he pleased.
"Ruddy Quidditch!" she grumbled, her eyes tearing up. Angrily she wiped the tears away, crumpled the note and performed the Inflagrante spell. He hadn't even left her any flowers - bluebells were her favorite, and he always showered her with them on Valentine's Day; at least he usually did. No, there wasn't one single mention of the fact that it was the most romantic day of the year. Granted, Ron had been swamped lately, shuttling back and forth between the Auror Department and George's shop, but one would think that he would have remembered to give her flowers on Valentine's Day.
Hermione had half a mind to go into the office and get a head start on her next case and therefore not be home when Ron returned. But at the moment she didn't much feel like working; her head wasn't in the right place, and there was no point in putting any effort into something that would more than likely end up being scrapped.
Instead she decided to get dressed, have breakfast and then take her book of Shakespearean Sonnets to read out on the back patio with a cup of tea. The weather was lovely, and she certainly didn't want to stay indoors pouting. It was only a manufactured holiday anyway.
* * *
At five-thirty, Ron still wasn't home. By then the sky was thick with clouds, and the smell of rain lingered in the air. Hermione was curled up on the worn burgundy armchair that her father had given her, with one of Molly's handmade blankets thrown over her legs. Crookshanks dozed on the sofa nearby.
By now she wasn't just disappointed, she was downright furious. She'd briefly considered going out to Hampshire, taking Ron by the collar and dragging him out of whatever pub he and George were cavorting in, but she was too tired even after a nearly two hour nap earlier in the afternoon, so she'd made herself a bowl of soup with some crackers, and another cup of tea and settled in to look through the latest edition of Matilda Magpie's Rare and Unique Baby Names; she'd marked several of the pages with tabs - all of the names she'd chosen were for a girl, since she was convinced that was what they would be having, despite what Ron said - but she'd long since lost interest in that project.
How could Ron possibly be so inconsiderate?
"Ruddy Quidditch," she muttered thickly. Again, the tears stung her eyes and again, she wiped them away angrily.
* * *
The next thing she was aware of was sounds coming from the kitchen. A cabinet door opened and closed, a pot was put on the stove, and silverware clinked. She also noticed that she had been moved from the armchair to the sofa, and her head was cushioned by a soft bed pillow. Rain was falling, and a low rumble of thunder rippled across the sky. Picking herself up off the sofa, she wandered to the kitchen where she found Ron in his stocking feet, poring over a cookbook.
"What time did you get home?" she asked, folding her arms across her front.
Ron looked up, startled. "Hey, love - I got home about six thirty. Did you have a nice rest?" He smiled and started for her, but then stopped short when he saw the expression on her face. He looked confused, which while endearing at the same time only served to make Hermione more frustrated.
"Your note said that you would be home by four," she said.
"Yeah, well…erm, we lost track of time. I'm sorry. But I thought I'd make it up to you by cooking us dinner. How does that sound?" he raised his eyebrows hopefully. "I'm using one of mum's recipes, it's that shepherd's pie you like."
She pursed her lips together, her hands clenched into fists. "Ron, what day is this?"
"It's Saturday. Why, what's going on?"
"I might ask you the same thing. I thought we'd be spending the day together, seeing as it's Valentine's Day." She put particular emphasis on the last two words, and waited for his reaction.
Ron's jaw dropped. "Bloody hell, I forgot…"
"But instead you ran off to a ruddy Quidditch match and not only that, you weren't home when you said you'd be." Hermione set her jaw and looked at him with what she hoped was an accusatory expression, but from the hurt she was feeling, she doubted it came out that way. She could already feel the tears stinging the back of her eyelids. If there was one thing she would change about being pregnant, it was the hormones that made her cry at the drop of a hat. She wiped the tears away, as heat rushed to her face.
"I'm sorry, love, I really am. You have no idea how sorry…" His mouth twitched, and she realized that he was trying not to smile, which only infuriated her more.
"So this is funny now?" she blurted. "You've totally ruined Valentine's Day for me, and all you can do is laugh about it?"
"Hermione, love, wait a second-" he took a step toward her, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. "It's not that, really. I can explain everything."
"What's to explain, Ron? Clearly Quidditch is more important to you than-what's that?"
Ron had lifted his hand from his pocket and taken out a small black velvet box. "This is the real reason I'm late," he said.
"What do you mean, the 'real' reason?" She took a step closer, and turned her eyes up to his. "You weren't at a Quidditch match?"
He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. "The Cannons aren't even playing today. I spent the entire day going all over London looking for the perfect present for you. I honestly didn't expect it would take this long, but none of the bloody shops had what I was looking for, so I had to go all the way out to Warwickshire…I'm sorry, love. Forgive me?"
"Oh Ron! Of course I do." She threw her arms around his neck and he caught her around the waist, dropping the box on the floor. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, it's just that when I didn't see any flowers, I thought you'd forgotten all about it…"
"How could I forget about Valentine's Day, Hermione? I've been married to you for almost seven years - it's burned on my memory."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I feel foolish."
"There's nothing to be sorry for, love." He took her face in his hands, and brushed away the tears that were rimming her eyes. Then he kissed her. His hands dropped down her front, resting on the slope of her belly.
"It's just a silly holiday anyway," she murmured, and she put her hands on top of his, following them as they stroked her belly in a circular motion.
"It's not silly if it's important to you." He kissed her again, his lips light and tender as they shaped around her lower lip and then eased up to cover her mouth. She deepened the kiss, and thrilled to the feeling of his tongue sliding between her teeth and onto the roof of her mouth. It was amazing to her that she could still feel like a schoolgirl around her husband, even after all the years they'd been together.
"I love you," she whispered into his mouth, fisting her hands in his hair.
"I love you, too." He lifted her slightly off the ground, holding her at the small of her back with her belly firmly settled between them.
Then without thinking twice, she grabbed the hem of his sweater and began to pull him out of the kitchen, toward the bedroom.
"What about dinner?" Ron put in.
"Is food all you ever think about?" she teased, grinning.
His cheeks flushed crimson. "Of course. Except when I'm thinking about you…"
"Well, we'll eat later. I'm not really that hungry right now anyway."
"Don't you at least want your present, the one that caused all this trouble to begin with?" He took her hands away from his sweater and he raised them to his lips, kissing each one. "I'm interested to see how you like it."
She stood on her toes and gave him a long, lingering kiss. His breath tasted like Butterbeer. "I'm sure I'll love it. Right now, you're the only thing I want." She dropped her hands and grabbed the belt loops of his jeans. His growing erection nudged her thigh.
Ron chuckled, his voice vibrating against her lips as he gently took her hands away from his waist. "Believe me, I want you too. But I really want you to see the present first." He knelt down and picked up the box, which he then handed to her. "Open it, love."
It was a ring. And not just any ring - it was an antique silver Victorian-era design with her birthstone set in the center, and surrounded by two very small diamonds. "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful," she said and looked up, her eyes swimming with tears.
"I wanted the gift to be special this year, you know because of the baby…" He touched the crest of her stomach, almost reverentially. "You're really amazing, going through all this so we can start our family."
Hermione touched his face, trailing her fingers along the ridge of his cheekbone. There was so much emotion contained inside her at that moment that it was hard for her to think coherently. "Only for you, Ron," she whispered. He smiled faintly, lightly stroking her belly.
"You really do have that glow, you know, that one they always say witches get when they're expecting."
She nudged him teasingly. "Oh that's rubbish, it's just my hormones-"
"It's not rubbish, and it's not hormones. You're beautiful."
Hermione blushed, and averted her eyes for a moment to focus on a thread protruding from his sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her throat tightened. She felt almost as giddy as the day he had proposed to her. When she regained her composure, she looked up and held up her right hand, lifting her ring finger slightly higher than the rest. "Will you put the ring on me so I can thank you properly?"
Ron took the box, picked up the ring and slipped it on her finger. Her fingers were slightly swollen so it felt snug. "I'll never take it off," she declared, and then she grabbed the hem of his sweater, pulling him toward the bedroom. "Now, come with me, Mr. Weasley."
"Ooh, I bloody love it when you call me that." He grabbed her waist and nuzzled her neck. Hermione giggled.
"Well then how about this? Come with me…Ronald," she said, and raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"Watch out, you've pulled the trigger now." He scooped her up. With her arms draped around his neck, he carried her the rest of the way to the bedroom and set her down on the bed. His eyes were dark with desire as he hovered over her. She watched, her heart pounding, as he pulled the sweater over his head, revealing a faded Chudley Cannons t-shirt, and tossed it on the floor.
"Your turn," he said gruffly, and he trained his attention completely on her hands as she began to work the buttons of her blouse. She parted the fabric and her fingers brushed against her left breast, which was snugly encased in a simple but pretty white brassiere that was verging on being too small for her now; her nipple was hard, the shape of it visible against the fabric. She shrugged off the blouse and plucked at her right breast for good measure before she leaned back on her elbows and idly stroked her bare stomach.
Ron's eyes widened, and a wicked grin spread across his face. He unfastened the top button of his trousers, and slowly pulled down the zip, little by little revealing the light blue cotton of his boxers. Hermione growled impatiently, and one hand drifted between her legs, rubbing the fabric of her loose cotton trousers. His eyes followed her hand, and he groaned when she moved it back.
"Sorry, it's not my turn," Hermione said with a wink.
He stripped off his trousers and kicked them away almost in one quick motion. "Now it is," he said, grinning like a schoolboy.
She lifted her hips off the mattress, unfastened the button at her waist and slowly pushed the trousers down her legs. With the fabric gathered at her ankles, she kicked her feet rapidly to make the pants fall onto the floor. Before she'd even resettled herself on the bed, Ron had pulled the t-shirt over his head.
"I remember how you used to complain about how hard the Auror training was…" Hermione let her gaze drift slowly across the expanse of his shoulders and down over his chest, following the tantalizing trail of ginger hair that disappeared under the elastic of his boxers. "…but I for one think it was well worth the effort."
"Wow, you really are randy tonight."
"Are you complaining?" She sat up, fingering the clasp at the front of her bra, and smiled when the bulge between his legs grew just a little bigger. With a little flick of her finger the clasp came open, and her breasts slipped a little farther out, her areolas now starkly visible against the clean white fabric.
Ron exhaled, his hands gravitating toward his crotch. "Far from it, love. Keep going."
She did, lightly nudging the bra until it moved completely off her chest and allowed her full and swollen breasts to spill out. She sat up and shrugged off the rest of the undergarment, and then put her hands under her breasts, raising and lifting them together.
"Bloody hell, I love pregnancy. Your breasts are enormous," Ron remarked, tracing his tongue along his lower lip as she shimmied out of the boxers. His erection popped out, looking almost as eager as he was.
"Was something wrong with them before?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, but her little smile gave her away. While at first she'd been uncomfortable with her expanding breasts, she was beginning to grow fond of them.
"What do you think?" He edged closer, and eyed her knickers.
Hermione slipped one finger under the elastic of her knickers, and stroked it back and forth. She dipped her finger a little farther down, brushing over the edge of her hair. "I think…I want you to come here and take these off for me." When she lifted her hand out, the tips of her fingers were wet.
Ron knelt at the foot of the bed and eased forward, slowly peeling the knickers away from her skin, sliding them down her legs and over her feet. She opened her legs a little more, urging her hips slightly forward. A small mewling sound escaped her lips as she gazed as his erection which was lingering frustratingly close.
"Ron…"
He smiled in the sexy way of his that told her he was going to take his time. When her hands drifted toward her cunt which was throbbing and aching to be touched, he moved her hands away. "No," he said simply. "Not yet. I want to look at you first."
She sighed impatiently, but this only made him smile wider. He curled his fingers around her ankles, and then he ran his hands up her shins, up and over her knees then down the front of her thighs to the base of her stomach. She moaned from somewhere deep in her throat; his touch was like fire spreading through her limbs. He gazed on her swollen belly, while his fingers tickled her hips.
"Merlin, you are so beautiful. I can't believe you've got our baby inside you right now." If his fingers were like fire, his voice was like cool water.
"Believe it, love." She moved her right hand to cover his, and held it flush against her hipbone. She guided his fingers down and over her lower abdomen, inching him closer to the place she most wanted him to be. She was so wet for him now she was leaking. But her heart sank when he eased her hand back in the other direction.
"Not yet."
"Ron-nnn…" she whined, and urgently arched her hips. Her left hand drifted over her breasts, tweaking her nipples.
"All in good time."
She sighed. "Just don't take too long, all right?"
"I'll do my best," Ron said, although he was clearly enjoying his advantage. She had to admit she was impressed with his composure; usually it was all she could do to keep him from pouncing on her before she'd even fully undressed. So she contented herself with fondling her breasts, stroking them and playing with them while his gaze roamed freely over the rest of her body, drinking her in. He smoothed his hands over her legs, along her waist and across her stomach, lingering for a moment to put his finger on her navel where he gently tickled her. Quite suddenly Hermione felt a rustling sensation not unlike popcorn in her belly.
"The baby likes that," Ron murmured with a smile.
"She's not the only one," Hermione purred, as she put her hand on top of his to hold it right where she'd felt the baby move.
Ron crawled up onto the bed. "What makes you so sure it's a girl?"
"A mother knows." She gazed over the ridge of her belly at his cock, hovering over her open legs. The sight of it made her salivate. "Now come on…"
"Not yet, there's something else I want to do first."
"Oh for Merlin's sake-oohhh…." The flick of his tongue against her clit sent waves of heat all through her lower extremities. "Now I definitely like that."
"Mm, I thought you might." He continued to stroke her, his tongue sliding into her crevice and circling over her clit before his mouth closed over it completely and he began to suck in earnest. Hermione emitted little gasps of pleasure, while she feverishly worked her nipples into hard rosy peaks.
"Remember, be gentle and don't blow air inside…"
"Don't worry, love." He moved his mouth away, and then spread her folds with his fingers. She inhaled sharply as his tongue slipped into her, delicately swirling around. He made little grunting noises as his tongue moved; when he needed to breathe, he lifted his head and smiled at her from between her legs. "I love how you know things," he said.
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that you know exactly what we can and can't do while you're pregnant. Imagining you reading a book on how to have sex makes me so bloody hot."
Hermione's cheeks flushed, and an aching need spread up from her pelvis to her belly; she groaned, her fingers pushing harder into her breasts. She pulled at her nipples, mostly to distract her from the fact that she desperately wanted her husband to be inside her.
"Bollocks, woman, you're driving me mad doing that."
Ron was hovering over her, his strong muscular arms on either side of her head. She felt the tip of his cock tickling her clit. He smiled down at her through his tousled fringe, and wiggled his hips. His cock slid over her cunt, and around her lower belly. It felt so good, she impulsively maneuvered her hips as if trying to catch him between her legs.
"Don't you know it's never a good idea to tease a pregnant witch?" Hermione arched her eyebrows, and ran her hands up and down his arms. "Now get on with it, Weasley."
He moved his lower body and she braced herself for the feeling of his cock sliding into her, but instead she felt his soft, warm mouth on her left breast. His tongue circled her nipple, and then his lips closed around it and gave it a gentle tug. She gasped; he smiled, and moved to her right breast. Meanwhile he continued to tease her with the tip of his erection, letting it touch her just enough to make her groan.
"If you don't fuck me right now, so help me-"
"I'll do you one better," he murmured into her ear, and then took hold of her upper arms, and slowly rolled her on top of him. "I've always liked the view from down here. Now let's get on to business."
She leaned forward just slightly, opened her legs and closed her eyes as she felt the exquisite sensation of his firm, velvety shaft sliding inside her. She clenched him hard, rolling her hips slowly forward and back; the underside of her belly glided over his pelvis. He groaned, a deep animal sound, as his hands smoothed sensually over her stomach and then cupped her breasts. He kneaded the soft flesh between his fingers, applying gentle pressure to her nipples. Hermione bit down on her lower lip, bearing down on the base of his cock.
"You are the hottest, sexiest pregnant witch on the face of the planet." He kissed her stomach.
"Well Harry might disagree with you on that one." Hermione smiled, closing her legs around his.
"Hermione, love, you know how much I hate it when you discuss my sister and my best friend's sex life...especially when we are having sex." Ron smoothed his hands down her arms, over her stomach and down between her legs where he found her swollen clit and proceeded to push his finger against it, and then swirl it around.
"Oh! Blimey..." she groaned, as the hot numbness poured out from the pressure of his finger and all through her body. Seconds later she felt his body tense beneath her; his throat clenched, his neck arched, and he gave one more thrust before releasing himself inside her. She followed suit, and then gently he eased her off him and she settled against his side.
"Cold?" he asked, peeling strands of hair off her face and curling them around her ear. He kissed her forehead.
"No, I'm just fine. You keep me warm." Nevertheless she shivered, and he curled his arm around her back more tightly, while his other arm curled around her belly in an almost protective manner.
"I take it I'm forgiven, then."
"You are more than forgiven." Hermione smiled and lifted her right hand to admire the ring. Then she closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin - a perpetual blend of grass, sweat, and soap and something else that she couldn't describe other than as being uniquely him. "Well, except for the bluebells..." she teased.
"Oh don't worry, love, I got bluebells." From the tone of his voice she could tell that Ron was smiling. "I ordered them this morning. They ought to have arrived by now, in fact; two vases of them. One of them is for you, and the other for the baby. I was expecting us to be eating dinner when they came so you could see them straight off..." he paused to kiss her. "But that's not to say I'm unhappy that our plans changed."
Again the tears flooded Hermione's eyes. She lifted her head. When Ron moved to wipe the tears away, she moved his hand from her face. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said, and smiled.
------------------------
Original Fic Request:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive: late on V-day, Hermione is upset, as Ron seems to have forgotten. He makes up for it.
Preferred Rating: R-NC-17
Specifics Wanted: Preggers-Hormonal Hermione, sex god ! Ron, flowers (but not roses)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): roses (too cliché), slut! Ron or slut! Hermione in the past, weird kink (but a little is ok), threesomes -
Thanks for participating in the Odds 'n' Ends Exchange! Happy Valentine’s Day! ♥
Author: lunalovepotter
Beta: the_vixxmeister
Rating: R/NC-17
Word count: 4401
Summary: Hermione believes that Ron has forgotten Valentine's Day. But she is very wrong.
Warnings:
Disclaimer: All characters are property of JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Notes: Happy Valentine's Day to naiad8, and thanks a bunch to my beta, the_vixxmeister!
On principle, Hermione Granger-Weasley did not subscribe to the idea of 'manufactured romance'; the preconceived notion that a person had to buy gifts to show his or her love for their partner simply rubbed her the wrong way. However, that didn't stop her from waking up every Valentine's Day with a sense of anticipation, because her husband did in fact subscribe to the idea, to the point of excess. She would always feign astonishment at the plethora of little gifts and gestures he would bestow on that particular day, but secretly deep down she loved every second of it; and on some level Hermione knew that Ron knew her true feelings about Valentine's Day, which was why he went overboard.
Since Valentine's Day fell on a Saturday that year, Hermione was fully expecting - and looking forward to - a quiet, romantic day with just her and Ron. She'd purposely stayed late at work last night to make sure everything was done and that she wouldn't have to go into the office at all, as she usually did on Saturdays. But when she turned onto her side in bed, intending to nestle her five months' pregnant belly against Ron's back, she was startled by the sight of an empty pillow, and blankets that had been haphazardly pushed down on Ron's side of the bed. The sheets were still fairly warm so she could assume that he hadn't been up very long, but the mere fact that he had left the bed was mildly disconcerting.
Then she smiled; he'd probably gotten up early to prepare her breakfast in bed. Appeased, she sat up, propped herself against the pillows and pulled the blankets to her waist. She folded her hands in her lap with her eyes trained on the door, and waited. Ron had inherited almost none of his mum's aptitude for cooking - his specialty was toast with marmalade - but the effort he put into it made up for that.
It was only after several minutes had passed in which she heard no sounds coming from the other side of the bedroom door that Hermione finally took it upon herself to get up, put on her robe, and go out to investigate.
"Hermione - George managed to get his hands on two tickets to the Cannons-Hornets match today in Hampshire. The match is at ten, and we'll probably go for beers afterward so I expect I'll be home by four o'clock tonight. See you later. Kiss the baby for me. I love you, Ron. "
Hermione's shoulders tensed and she pursed her lips as she read the note again. Quidditch. He'd gone to a Quidditch match. On Valentine's Day. With George, no less. She didn't expect Angelina would be happy about that either, until she remembered that Angie was away visiting her ill grandmother until Wednesday, so George was essentially free to do as he pleased.
"Ruddy Quidditch!" she grumbled, her eyes tearing up. Angrily she wiped the tears away, crumpled the note and performed the Inflagrante spell. He hadn't even left her any flowers - bluebells were her favorite, and he always showered her with them on Valentine's Day; at least he usually did. No, there wasn't one single mention of the fact that it was the most romantic day of the year. Granted, Ron had been swamped lately, shuttling back and forth between the Auror Department and George's shop, but one would think that he would have remembered to give her flowers on Valentine's Day.
Hermione had half a mind to go into the office and get a head start on her next case and therefore not be home when Ron returned. But at the moment she didn't much feel like working; her head wasn't in the right place, and there was no point in putting any effort into something that would more than likely end up being scrapped.
Instead she decided to get dressed, have breakfast and then take her book of Shakespearean Sonnets to read out on the back patio with a cup of tea. The weather was lovely, and she certainly didn't want to stay indoors pouting. It was only a manufactured holiday anyway.
* * *
At five-thirty, Ron still wasn't home. By then the sky was thick with clouds, and the smell of rain lingered in the air. Hermione was curled up on the worn burgundy armchair that her father had given her, with one of Molly's handmade blankets thrown over her legs. Crookshanks dozed on the sofa nearby.
By now she wasn't just disappointed, she was downright furious. She'd briefly considered going out to Hampshire, taking Ron by the collar and dragging him out of whatever pub he and George were cavorting in, but she was too tired even after a nearly two hour nap earlier in the afternoon, so she'd made herself a bowl of soup with some crackers, and another cup of tea and settled in to look through the latest edition of Matilda Magpie's Rare and Unique Baby Names; she'd marked several of the pages with tabs - all of the names she'd chosen were for a girl, since she was convinced that was what they would be having, despite what Ron said - but she'd long since lost interest in that project.
How could Ron possibly be so inconsiderate?
"Ruddy Quidditch," she muttered thickly. Again, the tears stung her eyes and again, she wiped them away angrily.
* * *
The next thing she was aware of was sounds coming from the kitchen. A cabinet door opened and closed, a pot was put on the stove, and silverware clinked. She also noticed that she had been moved from the armchair to the sofa, and her head was cushioned by a soft bed pillow. Rain was falling, and a low rumble of thunder rippled across the sky. Picking herself up off the sofa, she wandered to the kitchen where she found Ron in his stocking feet, poring over a cookbook.
"What time did you get home?" she asked, folding her arms across her front.
Ron looked up, startled. "Hey, love - I got home about six thirty. Did you have a nice rest?" He smiled and started for her, but then stopped short when he saw the expression on her face. He looked confused, which while endearing at the same time only served to make Hermione more frustrated.
"Your note said that you would be home by four," she said.
"Yeah, well…erm, we lost track of time. I'm sorry. But I thought I'd make it up to you by cooking us dinner. How does that sound?" he raised his eyebrows hopefully. "I'm using one of mum's recipes, it's that shepherd's pie you like."
She pursed her lips together, her hands clenched into fists. "Ron, what day is this?"
"It's Saturday. Why, what's going on?"
"I might ask you the same thing. I thought we'd be spending the day together, seeing as it's Valentine's Day." She put particular emphasis on the last two words, and waited for his reaction.
Ron's jaw dropped. "Bloody hell, I forgot…"
"But instead you ran off to a ruddy Quidditch match and not only that, you weren't home when you said you'd be." Hermione set her jaw and looked at him with what she hoped was an accusatory expression, but from the hurt she was feeling, she doubted it came out that way. She could already feel the tears stinging the back of her eyelids. If there was one thing she would change about being pregnant, it was the hormones that made her cry at the drop of a hat. She wiped the tears away, as heat rushed to her face.
"I'm sorry, love, I really am. You have no idea how sorry…" His mouth twitched, and she realized that he was trying not to smile, which only infuriated her more.
"So this is funny now?" she blurted. "You've totally ruined Valentine's Day for me, and all you can do is laugh about it?"
"Hermione, love, wait a second-" he took a step toward her, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. "It's not that, really. I can explain everything."
"What's to explain, Ron? Clearly Quidditch is more important to you than-what's that?"
Ron had lifted his hand from his pocket and taken out a small black velvet box. "This is the real reason I'm late," he said.
"What do you mean, the 'real' reason?" She took a step closer, and turned her eyes up to his. "You weren't at a Quidditch match?"
He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. "The Cannons aren't even playing today. I spent the entire day going all over London looking for the perfect present for you. I honestly didn't expect it would take this long, but none of the bloody shops had what I was looking for, so I had to go all the way out to Warwickshire…I'm sorry, love. Forgive me?"
"Oh Ron! Of course I do." She threw her arms around his neck and he caught her around the waist, dropping the box on the floor. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, it's just that when I didn't see any flowers, I thought you'd forgotten all about it…"
"How could I forget about Valentine's Day, Hermione? I've been married to you for almost seven years - it's burned on my memory."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I feel foolish."
"There's nothing to be sorry for, love." He took her face in his hands, and brushed away the tears that were rimming her eyes. Then he kissed her. His hands dropped down her front, resting on the slope of her belly.
"It's just a silly holiday anyway," she murmured, and she put her hands on top of his, following them as they stroked her belly in a circular motion.
"It's not silly if it's important to you." He kissed her again, his lips light and tender as they shaped around her lower lip and then eased up to cover her mouth. She deepened the kiss, and thrilled to the feeling of his tongue sliding between her teeth and onto the roof of her mouth. It was amazing to her that she could still feel like a schoolgirl around her husband, even after all the years they'd been together.
"I love you," she whispered into his mouth, fisting her hands in his hair.
"I love you, too." He lifted her slightly off the ground, holding her at the small of her back with her belly firmly settled between them.
Then without thinking twice, she grabbed the hem of his sweater and began to pull him out of the kitchen, toward the bedroom.
"What about dinner?" Ron put in.
"Is food all you ever think about?" she teased, grinning.
His cheeks flushed crimson. "Of course. Except when I'm thinking about you…"
"Well, we'll eat later. I'm not really that hungry right now anyway."
"Don't you at least want your present, the one that caused all this trouble to begin with?" He took her hands away from his sweater and he raised them to his lips, kissing each one. "I'm interested to see how you like it."
She stood on her toes and gave him a long, lingering kiss. His breath tasted like Butterbeer. "I'm sure I'll love it. Right now, you're the only thing I want." She dropped her hands and grabbed the belt loops of his jeans. His growing erection nudged her thigh.
Ron chuckled, his voice vibrating against her lips as he gently took her hands away from his waist. "Believe me, I want you too. But I really want you to see the present first." He knelt down and picked up the box, which he then handed to her. "Open it, love."
It was a ring. And not just any ring - it was an antique silver Victorian-era design with her birthstone set in the center, and surrounded by two very small diamonds. "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful," she said and looked up, her eyes swimming with tears.
"I wanted the gift to be special this year, you know because of the baby…" He touched the crest of her stomach, almost reverentially. "You're really amazing, going through all this so we can start our family."
Hermione touched his face, trailing her fingers along the ridge of his cheekbone. There was so much emotion contained inside her at that moment that it was hard for her to think coherently. "Only for you, Ron," she whispered. He smiled faintly, lightly stroking her belly.
"You really do have that glow, you know, that one they always say witches get when they're expecting."
She nudged him teasingly. "Oh that's rubbish, it's just my hormones-"
"It's not rubbish, and it's not hormones. You're beautiful."
Hermione blushed, and averted her eyes for a moment to focus on a thread protruding from his sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her throat tightened. She felt almost as giddy as the day he had proposed to her. When she regained her composure, she looked up and held up her right hand, lifting her ring finger slightly higher than the rest. "Will you put the ring on me so I can thank you properly?"
Ron took the box, picked up the ring and slipped it on her finger. Her fingers were slightly swollen so it felt snug. "I'll never take it off," she declared, and then she grabbed the hem of his sweater, pulling him toward the bedroom. "Now, come with me, Mr. Weasley."
"Ooh, I bloody love it when you call me that." He grabbed her waist and nuzzled her neck. Hermione giggled.
"Well then how about this? Come with me…Ronald," she said, and raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"Watch out, you've pulled the trigger now." He scooped her up. With her arms draped around his neck, he carried her the rest of the way to the bedroom and set her down on the bed. His eyes were dark with desire as he hovered over her. She watched, her heart pounding, as he pulled the sweater over his head, revealing a faded Chudley Cannons t-shirt, and tossed it on the floor.
"Your turn," he said gruffly, and he trained his attention completely on her hands as she began to work the buttons of her blouse. She parted the fabric and her fingers brushed against her left breast, which was snugly encased in a simple but pretty white brassiere that was verging on being too small for her now; her nipple was hard, the shape of it visible against the fabric. She shrugged off the blouse and plucked at her right breast for good measure before she leaned back on her elbows and idly stroked her bare stomach.
Ron's eyes widened, and a wicked grin spread across his face. He unfastened the top button of his trousers, and slowly pulled down the zip, little by little revealing the light blue cotton of his boxers. Hermione growled impatiently, and one hand drifted between her legs, rubbing the fabric of her loose cotton trousers. His eyes followed her hand, and he groaned when she moved it back.
"Sorry, it's not my turn," Hermione said with a wink.
He stripped off his trousers and kicked them away almost in one quick motion. "Now it is," he said, grinning like a schoolboy.
She lifted her hips off the mattress, unfastened the button at her waist and slowly pushed the trousers down her legs. With the fabric gathered at her ankles, she kicked her feet rapidly to make the pants fall onto the floor. Before she'd even resettled herself on the bed, Ron had pulled the t-shirt over his head.
"I remember how you used to complain about how hard the Auror training was…" Hermione let her gaze drift slowly across the expanse of his shoulders and down over his chest, following the tantalizing trail of ginger hair that disappeared under the elastic of his boxers. "…but I for one think it was well worth the effort."
"Wow, you really are randy tonight."
"Are you complaining?" She sat up, fingering the clasp at the front of her bra, and smiled when the bulge between his legs grew just a little bigger. With a little flick of her finger the clasp came open, and her breasts slipped a little farther out, her areolas now starkly visible against the clean white fabric.
Ron exhaled, his hands gravitating toward his crotch. "Far from it, love. Keep going."
She did, lightly nudging the bra until it moved completely off her chest and allowed her full and swollen breasts to spill out. She sat up and shrugged off the rest of the undergarment, and then put her hands under her breasts, raising and lifting them together.
"Bloody hell, I love pregnancy. Your breasts are enormous," Ron remarked, tracing his tongue along his lower lip as she shimmied out of the boxers. His erection popped out, looking almost as eager as he was.
"Was something wrong with them before?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, but her little smile gave her away. While at first she'd been uncomfortable with her expanding breasts, she was beginning to grow fond of them.
"What do you think?" He edged closer, and eyed her knickers.
Hermione slipped one finger under the elastic of her knickers, and stroked it back and forth. She dipped her finger a little farther down, brushing over the edge of her hair. "I think…I want you to come here and take these off for me." When she lifted her hand out, the tips of her fingers were wet.
Ron knelt at the foot of the bed and eased forward, slowly peeling the knickers away from her skin, sliding them down her legs and over her feet. She opened her legs a little more, urging her hips slightly forward. A small mewling sound escaped her lips as she gazed as his erection which was lingering frustratingly close.
"Ron…"
He smiled in the sexy way of his that told her he was going to take his time. When her hands drifted toward her cunt which was throbbing and aching to be touched, he moved her hands away. "No," he said simply. "Not yet. I want to look at you first."
She sighed impatiently, but this only made him smile wider. He curled his fingers around her ankles, and then he ran his hands up her shins, up and over her knees then down the front of her thighs to the base of her stomach. She moaned from somewhere deep in her throat; his touch was like fire spreading through her limbs. He gazed on her swollen belly, while his fingers tickled her hips.
"Merlin, you are so beautiful. I can't believe you've got our baby inside you right now." If his fingers were like fire, his voice was like cool water.
"Believe it, love." She moved her right hand to cover his, and held it flush against her hipbone. She guided his fingers down and over her lower abdomen, inching him closer to the place she most wanted him to be. She was so wet for him now she was leaking. But her heart sank when he eased her hand back in the other direction.
"Not yet."
"Ron-nnn…" she whined, and urgently arched her hips. Her left hand drifted over her breasts, tweaking her nipples.
"All in good time."
She sighed. "Just don't take too long, all right?"
"I'll do my best," Ron said, although he was clearly enjoying his advantage. She had to admit she was impressed with his composure; usually it was all she could do to keep him from pouncing on her before she'd even fully undressed. So she contented herself with fondling her breasts, stroking them and playing with them while his gaze roamed freely over the rest of her body, drinking her in. He smoothed his hands over her legs, along her waist and across her stomach, lingering for a moment to put his finger on her navel where he gently tickled her. Quite suddenly Hermione felt a rustling sensation not unlike popcorn in her belly.
"The baby likes that," Ron murmured with a smile.
"She's not the only one," Hermione purred, as she put her hand on top of his to hold it right where she'd felt the baby move.
Ron crawled up onto the bed. "What makes you so sure it's a girl?"
"A mother knows." She gazed over the ridge of her belly at his cock, hovering over her open legs. The sight of it made her salivate. "Now come on…"
"Not yet, there's something else I want to do first."
"Oh for Merlin's sake-oohhh…." The flick of his tongue against her clit sent waves of heat all through her lower extremities. "Now I definitely like that."
"Mm, I thought you might." He continued to stroke her, his tongue sliding into her crevice and circling over her clit before his mouth closed over it completely and he began to suck in earnest. Hermione emitted little gasps of pleasure, while she feverishly worked her nipples into hard rosy peaks.
"Remember, be gentle and don't blow air inside…"
"Don't worry, love." He moved his mouth away, and then spread her folds with his fingers. She inhaled sharply as his tongue slipped into her, delicately swirling around. He made little grunting noises as his tongue moved; when he needed to breathe, he lifted his head and smiled at her from between her legs. "I love how you know things," he said.
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that you know exactly what we can and can't do while you're pregnant. Imagining you reading a book on how to have sex makes me so bloody hot."
Hermione's cheeks flushed, and an aching need spread up from her pelvis to her belly; she groaned, her fingers pushing harder into her breasts. She pulled at her nipples, mostly to distract her from the fact that she desperately wanted her husband to be inside her.
"Bollocks, woman, you're driving me mad doing that."
Ron was hovering over her, his strong muscular arms on either side of her head. She felt the tip of his cock tickling her clit. He smiled down at her through his tousled fringe, and wiggled his hips. His cock slid over her cunt, and around her lower belly. It felt so good, she impulsively maneuvered her hips as if trying to catch him between her legs.
"Don't you know it's never a good idea to tease a pregnant witch?" Hermione arched her eyebrows, and ran her hands up and down his arms. "Now get on with it, Weasley."
He moved his lower body and she braced herself for the feeling of his cock sliding into her, but instead she felt his soft, warm mouth on her left breast. His tongue circled her nipple, and then his lips closed around it and gave it a gentle tug. She gasped; he smiled, and moved to her right breast. Meanwhile he continued to tease her with the tip of his erection, letting it touch her just enough to make her groan.
"If you don't fuck me right now, so help me-"
"I'll do you one better," he murmured into her ear, and then took hold of her upper arms, and slowly rolled her on top of him. "I've always liked the view from down here. Now let's get on to business."
She leaned forward just slightly, opened her legs and closed her eyes as she felt the exquisite sensation of his firm, velvety shaft sliding inside her. She clenched him hard, rolling her hips slowly forward and back; the underside of her belly glided over his pelvis. He groaned, a deep animal sound, as his hands smoothed sensually over her stomach and then cupped her breasts. He kneaded the soft flesh between his fingers, applying gentle pressure to her nipples. Hermione bit down on her lower lip, bearing down on the base of his cock.
"You are the hottest, sexiest pregnant witch on the face of the planet." He kissed her stomach.
"Well Harry might disagree with you on that one." Hermione smiled, closing her legs around his.
"Hermione, love, you know how much I hate it when you discuss my sister and my best friend's sex life...especially when we are having sex." Ron smoothed his hands down her arms, over her stomach and down between her legs where he found her swollen clit and proceeded to push his finger against it, and then swirl it around.
"Oh! Blimey..." she groaned, as the hot numbness poured out from the pressure of his finger and all through her body. Seconds later she felt his body tense beneath her; his throat clenched, his neck arched, and he gave one more thrust before releasing himself inside her. She followed suit, and then gently he eased her off him and she settled against his side.
"Cold?" he asked, peeling strands of hair off her face and curling them around her ear. He kissed her forehead.
"No, I'm just fine. You keep me warm." Nevertheless she shivered, and he curled his arm around her back more tightly, while his other arm curled around her belly in an almost protective manner.
"I take it I'm forgiven, then."
"You are more than forgiven." Hermione smiled and lifted her right hand to admire the ring. Then she closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin - a perpetual blend of grass, sweat, and soap and something else that she couldn't describe other than as being uniquely him. "Well, except for the bluebells..." she teased.
"Oh don't worry, love, I got bluebells." From the tone of his voice she could tell that Ron was smiling. "I ordered them this morning. They ought to have arrived by now, in fact; two vases of them. One of them is for you, and the other for the baby. I was expecting us to be eating dinner when they came so you could see them straight off..." he paused to kiss her. "But that's not to say I'm unhappy that our plans changed."
Again the tears flooded Hermione's eyes. She lifted her head. When Ron moved to wipe the tears away, she moved his hand from her face. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said, and smiled.
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Original Fic Request:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive: late on V-day, Hermione is upset, as Ron seems to have forgotten. He makes up for it.
Preferred Rating: R-NC-17
Specifics Wanted: Preggers-Hormonal Hermione, sex god ! Ron, flowers (but not roses)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): roses (too cliché), slut! Ron or slut! Hermione in the past, weird kink (but a little is ok), threesomes -
Thanks for participating in the Odds 'n' Ends Exchange! Happy Valentine’s Day! ♥