Fic Request Fulfilled for lunalovepotter
Title: Victory is the Best Revenge
Author: manda_lalala
Beta: octurusstargazer and lauryne78
Rating: NC17 (you have been warned)
Word count: 2874
Summary: Ron and Hermione are trying to plan a wedding, and as is typical for those two, they fight. But sometimes making up is the best part.
Warnings: NC17! Strong sexual Content. Also a bit of cheesiness. Not plot heavy, but not quite PWP.
Notes: I tried very hard to include all of the wonderful suggestions by lunalovepotter, and I hope she likes my interpretation of her request! I took a risk with the “serenade” and I hope she likes it! I was trying to make it fit all three genres and I think I did. I by no means claim to be a very good writer, just a lover of Ron/Hermione fanfiction!
“I cannot believe you would do this to me, Hermione!” Ron yelled and threw the stack of papers he had been reviewing at her, scattering the pages across the floor.
Hermione huffed and scowled at him as she proceeded to pick up the pages. “Honestly, Ron, I thought you’d gotten over this ridiculousness.” She tried to keep her temper in check. It would not do to start a row now. They had already been arguing on and off for days.
“I just really don’t want him there, Hermione, after everything,” Ron continued, as if he were being perfectly logical.
“After everything? What are you on about, Ron? There was nothing and you know that. How many times do I have to tell you this? It was nothing! He’s my friend. He’s coming. I don’t care what you say. Case closed,” she spat sharply.
“Oh, so now you think that because you’re working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that you can just open and close cases on me?!”
Hermione stared at him in disbelief. “It’s an expression, dear. All it means is that I am not discussing this with you any further,” she cooed in a patronizing, sing-song voice as she finished picking up the stack of papers he had thrown. She then took the pile and left the room and a still seething Ron Weasley behind. She quietly left the house and Apparated to her flat in London and sat down on one of the dining room chairs.
Hermione put the pages down on the table in front of her and put her head in her hands. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle any more of this. It had been like this for weeks. She wasn’t sure why, but it appeared that she and Ron could not agree on a single thing to do with their upcoming wedding. They had been engaged for two years now and Hermione was starting to wonder if they would ever get married. It had taken him long enough to ask in the first place. They had been together as a couple since that awful day at Hogwarts and it had taken him six years to ask her, and now they were still not married. Harry and Ginny had been married for five years now and were working on their first child. Not that having kids was her top priority at the moment, what with her recent promotion to a top position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but she would like finally to get married so that they could have a family some day.
But it seemed like every time she brought up the wedding, it caused another row between them. First they had rowed about when to have the wedding. Hermione wanted a wedding in the winter, and Ron wanted a wedding in the summer. Hermione always loved winter best, but she gave in on that one because Ron did have a point when he said that an outdoor wedding would make it easier to fit his gigantic family without it costing a fortune. Then they had argued about the exact date. After months of debating, the date was finally set. Then they argued about if it should be in the Muggle or magical world and if it should be a traditional Muggle-style wedding or magical, or a mixture of both. They argued about the number of people in the wedding party; Ron wanted all of his brothers and Harry to stand up with him. Hermione complained that she didn’t have enough female friends to match that. Finally, she agreed and decided on Ginny, Luna, Fleur, Molly, and her own mother. Then they argued about the types of flowers they would have, the colors they would use, daytime versus nighttime, buffet versus a sit down meal, and on and on it went for months on end.
She hadn’t expected him to care so much about the details. She was beginning to suspect that he was just fighting with her for amusement’s sake. Or maybe it was because the make-up sex was usually pretty fantastic. She didn’t know, but up until now it hadn’t been a big deal.
This last fight had been worse, though, because it wasn’t about something trivial like colors or food choices. Hermione could not believe that he was still holding onto his childhood grudge about Viktor Krum. She thought they had buried that hatchet years ago. When they finally got together after the war, the first time the subject came up they had sat down and had a serious conversation about it. Hermione had been so proud of Ron for being so mature about it. She had promised that there was never any real attraction to Krum and that she had only done it to make him jealous, much the same way, she discovered, that he had been using Lavender against her. True to his word, after that discussion they never fought about Viktor.
She didn’t know what to do. Viktor was one of her really good friends. He had been there for her when Ron was being a thickheaded prat. He was there for her when she thought Ron would never ask her to marry him, promising that he knew Ron loved her and he was just scared of messing things up. It was funny because those were very similar to the words Ron used when he asked her.
She had to prevent herself from laughing out loud as he said them. She was afraid she would hurt his feelings.
That was it. Hermione had made up her mind. She couldn’t not invite Viktor to the wedding. Ron would just have to suck it up. Naturally, Lavender was invited, being married to Seamus and all. Hermione hadn’t even protested that. So if she could handle Lavender, Ron was going to have to handle Viktor being there, and that was that.
Hermione lay down on the couch and stretched out languidly, thinking. When will Ron Weasley ever completely grow up? she wondered. Probably never. But she couldn’t deny that that was one of the things that charmed her about him. He was innocent from time to time, and it amused her how he could still be childlike and yet be mature at the same time. Especially in the bedroom, she mused with a slight smirk playing on her lips.
~~~,~~~’~~~,’@
“Mmmm…” Hermione groaned and stretched, batting away the hand that was shaking her awake. She opened her eyes to see her fiancé looking down at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. She was still angry with him and she didn’t want to talk about it.
“You look really sexy when you’re angry, love,” Ron cooed, causing Hermione to roll over and face the back of the couch. She had been dreaming about the fabulous make-up sex they often had and she didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on her. “Come on, love, let’s talk it out, and then kiss and make up. I know that’s what you want.”
She swatted at him, annoyed, and pulled the throw pillow over her head. “Go away, Ron. I’m done fighting with you. You promised we wouldn’t have this fight anymore.”
“Sometimes I can’t help it, Hermione. I get so possessive of you.”
She sat bolt upright and fiercely glowered at him. “Ronald Weasley, when are you ever going to grow up and act like an adult?” she spat. “I am tired of this immaturity. You made a promise to me several years ago and I expected you to keep it! I’m tired of this. If we can’t make it through planning a wedding, then how the hell are we supposed to make it through a marriage, or raising a family?” She stopped when she saw the expression of hurt on his face at her last jibe. That was too low, even for one of their notorious rows. She knew that what he wanted most in the whole world was a family. How could she have intentionally inflicted the pain that would cause that look on his face? She was awful. He wasn’t the one with a problem-she was.
Very quietly, Ron spoke up, “Is that what you-is that what you think about-about our f-future?” he whispered so quietly she barely heard the last word. There were very few times Hermione had seen Ron cry and she was afraid she was about to witness another.
“Ron, honey, you know that I don’t really-oh, Ron,” she murmured, pulling him close to her. Ron instinctively wrapped his arms around her and she kissed his hair. “Ron, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I think you will make a wonderful husband and father some day. I really do.”
“This is just part of who we are, Hermione. I don’t think that we would be us if we didn’t fight over silly things sometimes. Besides, I really meant it when I said that I think you are incredibly sexy when you are angry with me.” Ron winked at her.
Hermione blushed, knowing right away what they were about to get up to. “Am I?” she asked fixing him with her best smoldering, sexy, angry look. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered enticingly. “Prove it to me.”
She watched a look of desire pass over her soon-to-be husband’s face as he pushed her down against the arm of the couch. He ground his hips against her and she could feel his firm erection pressing into her stomach.
“Does this prove how sexy I think you are?” he breathed against her ear.
Hermione feigned ignorance. “I’m not sure what you could be talking about, Ron,” she whispered with her best innocent voice and wide-eyed expression. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”
“I don’t know how much harder I can get,” Ron groaned, grinding into her again.
Hermione giggled. This was a game that was familiar to them. Playing hard to get had been something they had both excelled at for too long, and, to Hermione’s pleasant surprise, it was a trick that could get Ron very riled up for her.
“Still not proof enough, Ron,” she smirked, waiting to see what stunt he would come up with next.
Ron stood up slowly and sensually and strutted away from her, leaving Hermione wondering what on earth he was planning. He turned towards her with an exaggerated wink and, without warning, he began a comical-but still very sexy-strip tease. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt and swaying his hips to something he was humming. Hermione didn’t recognize it. He blew her a kiss and continued with his show, adding lyrics to his song.
“I'm a slave for you.” Hermione quickly found herself becoming aroused despite Ron’s comical efforts and mocking voice. He thrust his hips it time with the music he was singing and ripped his shirt off completely. Hermione was acutely aware of a drop of sweat making a path down the side of his neck and slowly rolling down his well-defined chest. She licked her lips.
As he sang the next line, he sensuously unbuttoned his trousers at an excruciatingly slow pace. “I cannot hold it, I cannot control it,..”
Hermione gulped in a deep breath as she noticed just how tight his trousers were, and just how much he was straining against the fabric. She silently thanked George for making sure Ron dressed better when he worked in the shop.
“I'm a slave for you,” he half- whispered, half- groaned, swinging his hips as he struggled to pull the tight fabric down past his arse and still look sexy. Hermione giggled. She couldn’t help it. She knew he was trying to be sexy, but the sight in front of her was more cute and endearing than sexy.
Ron pouted at her giggle and glared at her, but he continued. “I won't deny it, I'm not trying to hide it,” he chanted. It quickly became obvious just how inexperienced he was when he tried to pull off his pants without first having taken off his shoes. He tumbled to the ground pathetically, and looked up at Hermione sullenly. Hermione thought he looked adorable and she encouraged him to keep going. He paused for a second, thinking, and then he grabbed his wand and banished the rest of his and Hermione’s clothing with a sexy smirk.
Ron swung his hips exaggeratedly as he strutted back towards the couch and pulled Hermione up to her feet, pressing their bodies tightly together. “Baby, don’t you wanna, dance up on me,” he sung in quietly in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “To another time and place.” He ran his hands slowly down her back and grabbed her bum, pressing her even tighter against him. “Baby, don’t you wanna, dance up on me?”
Hermione responded by rolling her hips against him in the way she’d often seen women dancing in clubs. She grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his lips to hers forcefully, silencing his song.
“Oh Merlin, Ron, do you realize how gorgeous you are?” Hermione muttered against his lips.
“Mmm… only because you tell me so often,” he groaned as she planted kisses on his throat. “Merlin, that feels nice, love.”
Hermione backed him towards the sofa until he had no choice but to sit down, his knees buckling under him. She moved on top of him, placing her knees on either side of his legs and holding herself just above him. She watched him whimper with anticipation and she smiled. Yes, the make-up sex really is incredible, she thought in anticipation.
She slowly lowered herself down onto him, closing her eyes and breathing deeply at the feeling of him filling her. She paused a moment, just enjoying that sensation before she began to move again, raising and lowering herself up and down his shaft.
Ron reached a hand down between them and searched for her clitoris with two gentle fingers. She bucked her hips reflexively as he ran his expert fingers across her most sensitive spot. They had had a lot of practice at this, and he knew exactly what she liked. When they had first started experimenting, she had been very tense and uptight. It had taken Ron a long time to figure out how to relax her, but now it was second nature to them.
He stroked gentle circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves as she languidly moved above him. He rolled his head back against the couch in ecstasy. She loved the look on his face when she did something right. She watched as his breathing increased and she began to quicken her pace, feeling him bucking against her. She felt a tingling sensation building up inside her and her movements became more and more frenzied. He responded by thrusting harder up into her as she let herself crash down on him. At last she squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure as wave upon wave of tingling sensation washed over her.
Ron increased his thrusting and she tried to maintain her movements, but she couldn’t… it was just too much. Ron saw this and flipped her over onto her back, pounding himself into her over and over to reach his own release. Hermione groaned. She loved when he got a little bit rough with her. He was so big and masculine above her. She watched the flexing of the muscles in his chest as he moved above her and she felt a second orgasm building inside her.
Ron became almost frantic, thrusting erratically several more times. With one final thrust he came, groaning her name against her throat just as Hermione felt her own climax. They collapsed together, completely spent. Ron showered her with kisses, muttering how much he loved her, and Hermione closed her eyes in bliss.
“I’m sorry we fought, I’m sorry about what I said, I’m sorry about everything. If you don’t want Viktor at-”
Ron cut her off with another kiss. “Viktor. Can. Come. Love. I. Don’t. Care. Any. More,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses. “I’m sorry that I ever said otherwise, love. I’ve got the girl now, so I should be happy to rub it in his face.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been the one I wanted and you know it,” she muttered, slapping his arm playfully. “And why do you think I don’t mind having Lavender at the wedding? Victory is the best revenge…”
“Yeah, who’s the Victor now?” Ron teased, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “By the way, what was that song you were singing?”
Ron blushed. “Some Muggle song that Roxanne is often listening to at the shop. George says the singer is ‘one fit Muggle bird.’” Ron made air quotes.
“I see,” Hermione responded, making a face. “George lets his 11 year old listen to that?”
Ron kissed her. “You didn’t even dignify my victor joke with a response,” he pouted, only to be hit with the sofa pillow.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
------------------------
ORIGINAL REQUEST
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive:
An argument (topic of author's choosing), and then making up. Classic Ron/Hermione.
Preferred Genre(s): Romance, Angst, Humor
Preferred Rating(s): R, NC-17
Canon or AU?: Canon
A specific you want: a serenade (doesn't matter who does it)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): As long as Ron isn't portrayed as a bumbling idiot, then I'm fine.
Thanks for participating in the Love in Full Bloom Exchange!
Author: manda_lalala
Beta: octurusstargazer and lauryne78
Rating: NC17 (you have been warned)
Word count: 2874
Summary: Ron and Hermione are trying to plan a wedding, and as is typical for those two, they fight. But sometimes making up is the best part.
Warnings: NC17! Strong sexual Content. Also a bit of cheesiness. Not plot heavy, but not quite PWP.
Notes: I tried very hard to include all of the wonderful suggestions by lunalovepotter, and I hope she likes my interpretation of her request! I took a risk with the “serenade” and I hope she likes it! I was trying to make it fit all three genres and I think I did. I by no means claim to be a very good writer, just a lover of Ron/Hermione fanfiction!
“I cannot believe you would do this to me, Hermione!” Ron yelled and threw the stack of papers he had been reviewing at her, scattering the pages across the floor.
Hermione huffed and scowled at him as she proceeded to pick up the pages. “Honestly, Ron, I thought you’d gotten over this ridiculousness.” She tried to keep her temper in check. It would not do to start a row now. They had already been arguing on and off for days.
“I just really don’t want him there, Hermione, after everything,” Ron continued, as if he were being perfectly logical.
“After everything? What are you on about, Ron? There was nothing and you know that. How many times do I have to tell you this? It was nothing! He’s my friend. He’s coming. I don’t care what you say. Case closed,” she spat sharply.
“Oh, so now you think that because you’re working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that you can just open and close cases on me?!”
Hermione stared at him in disbelief. “It’s an expression, dear. All it means is that I am not discussing this with you any further,” she cooed in a patronizing, sing-song voice as she finished picking up the stack of papers he had thrown. She then took the pile and left the room and a still seething Ron Weasley behind. She quietly left the house and Apparated to her flat in London and sat down on one of the dining room chairs.
Hermione put the pages down on the table in front of her and put her head in her hands. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle any more of this. It had been like this for weeks. She wasn’t sure why, but it appeared that she and Ron could not agree on a single thing to do with their upcoming wedding. They had been engaged for two years now and Hermione was starting to wonder if they would ever get married. It had taken him long enough to ask in the first place. They had been together as a couple since that awful day at Hogwarts and it had taken him six years to ask her, and now they were still not married. Harry and Ginny had been married for five years now and were working on their first child. Not that having kids was her top priority at the moment, what with her recent promotion to a top position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but she would like finally to get married so that they could have a family some day.
But it seemed like every time she brought up the wedding, it caused another row between them. First they had rowed about when to have the wedding. Hermione wanted a wedding in the winter, and Ron wanted a wedding in the summer. Hermione always loved winter best, but she gave in on that one because Ron did have a point when he said that an outdoor wedding would make it easier to fit his gigantic family without it costing a fortune. Then they had argued about the exact date. After months of debating, the date was finally set. Then they argued about if it should be in the Muggle or magical world and if it should be a traditional Muggle-style wedding or magical, or a mixture of both. They argued about the number of people in the wedding party; Ron wanted all of his brothers and Harry to stand up with him. Hermione complained that she didn’t have enough female friends to match that. Finally, she agreed and decided on Ginny, Luna, Fleur, Molly, and her own mother. Then they argued about the types of flowers they would have, the colors they would use, daytime versus nighttime, buffet versus a sit down meal, and on and on it went for months on end.
She hadn’t expected him to care so much about the details. She was beginning to suspect that he was just fighting with her for amusement’s sake. Or maybe it was because the make-up sex was usually pretty fantastic. She didn’t know, but up until now it hadn’t been a big deal.
This last fight had been worse, though, because it wasn’t about something trivial like colors or food choices. Hermione could not believe that he was still holding onto his childhood grudge about Viktor Krum. She thought they had buried that hatchet years ago. When they finally got together after the war, the first time the subject came up they had sat down and had a serious conversation about it. Hermione had been so proud of Ron for being so mature about it. She had promised that there was never any real attraction to Krum and that she had only done it to make him jealous, much the same way, she discovered, that he had been using Lavender against her. True to his word, after that discussion they never fought about Viktor.
She didn’t know what to do. Viktor was one of her really good friends. He had been there for her when Ron was being a thickheaded prat. He was there for her when she thought Ron would never ask her to marry him, promising that he knew Ron loved her and he was just scared of messing things up. It was funny because those were very similar to the words Ron used when he asked her.
She had to prevent herself from laughing out loud as he said them. She was afraid she would hurt his feelings.
That was it. Hermione had made up her mind. She couldn’t not invite Viktor to the wedding. Ron would just have to suck it up. Naturally, Lavender was invited, being married to Seamus and all. Hermione hadn’t even protested that. So if she could handle Lavender, Ron was going to have to handle Viktor being there, and that was that.
Hermione lay down on the couch and stretched out languidly, thinking. When will Ron Weasley ever completely grow up? she wondered. Probably never. But she couldn’t deny that that was one of the things that charmed her about him. He was innocent from time to time, and it amused her how he could still be childlike and yet be mature at the same time. Especially in the bedroom, she mused with a slight smirk playing on her lips.
~~~,~~~’~~~,’@
“Mmmm…” Hermione groaned and stretched, batting away the hand that was shaking her awake. She opened her eyes to see her fiancé looking down at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. She was still angry with him and she didn’t want to talk about it.
“You look really sexy when you’re angry, love,” Ron cooed, causing Hermione to roll over and face the back of the couch. She had been dreaming about the fabulous make-up sex they often had and she didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on her. “Come on, love, let’s talk it out, and then kiss and make up. I know that’s what you want.”
She swatted at him, annoyed, and pulled the throw pillow over her head. “Go away, Ron. I’m done fighting with you. You promised we wouldn’t have this fight anymore.”
“Sometimes I can’t help it, Hermione. I get so possessive of you.”
She sat bolt upright and fiercely glowered at him. “Ronald Weasley, when are you ever going to grow up and act like an adult?” she spat. “I am tired of this immaturity. You made a promise to me several years ago and I expected you to keep it! I’m tired of this. If we can’t make it through planning a wedding, then how the hell are we supposed to make it through a marriage, or raising a family?” She stopped when she saw the expression of hurt on his face at her last jibe. That was too low, even for one of their notorious rows. She knew that what he wanted most in the whole world was a family. How could she have intentionally inflicted the pain that would cause that look on his face? She was awful. He wasn’t the one with a problem-she was.
Very quietly, Ron spoke up, “Is that what you-is that what you think about-about our f-future?” he whispered so quietly she barely heard the last word. There were very few times Hermione had seen Ron cry and she was afraid she was about to witness another.
“Ron, honey, you know that I don’t really-oh, Ron,” she murmured, pulling him close to her. Ron instinctively wrapped his arms around her and she kissed his hair. “Ron, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I think you will make a wonderful husband and father some day. I really do.”
“This is just part of who we are, Hermione. I don’t think that we would be us if we didn’t fight over silly things sometimes. Besides, I really meant it when I said that I think you are incredibly sexy when you are angry with me.” Ron winked at her.
Hermione blushed, knowing right away what they were about to get up to. “Am I?” she asked fixing him with her best smoldering, sexy, angry look. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered enticingly. “Prove it to me.”
She watched a look of desire pass over her soon-to-be husband’s face as he pushed her down against the arm of the couch. He ground his hips against her and she could feel his firm erection pressing into her stomach.
“Does this prove how sexy I think you are?” he breathed against her ear.
Hermione feigned ignorance. “I’m not sure what you could be talking about, Ron,” she whispered with her best innocent voice and wide-eyed expression. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”
“I don’t know how much harder I can get,” Ron groaned, grinding into her again.
Hermione giggled. This was a game that was familiar to them. Playing hard to get had been something they had both excelled at for too long, and, to Hermione’s pleasant surprise, it was a trick that could get Ron very riled up for her.
“Still not proof enough, Ron,” she smirked, waiting to see what stunt he would come up with next.
Ron stood up slowly and sensually and strutted away from her, leaving Hermione wondering what on earth he was planning. He turned towards her with an exaggerated wink and, without warning, he began a comical-but still very sexy-strip tease. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt and swaying his hips to something he was humming. Hermione didn’t recognize it. He blew her a kiss and continued with his show, adding lyrics to his song.
“I'm a slave for you.” Hermione quickly found herself becoming aroused despite Ron’s comical efforts and mocking voice. He thrust his hips it time with the music he was singing and ripped his shirt off completely. Hermione was acutely aware of a drop of sweat making a path down the side of his neck and slowly rolling down his well-defined chest. She licked her lips.
As he sang the next line, he sensuously unbuttoned his trousers at an excruciatingly slow pace. “I cannot hold it, I cannot control it,..”
Hermione gulped in a deep breath as she noticed just how tight his trousers were, and just how much he was straining against the fabric. She silently thanked George for making sure Ron dressed better when he worked in the shop.
“I'm a slave for you,” he half- whispered, half- groaned, swinging his hips as he struggled to pull the tight fabric down past his arse and still look sexy. Hermione giggled. She couldn’t help it. She knew he was trying to be sexy, but the sight in front of her was more cute and endearing than sexy.
Ron pouted at her giggle and glared at her, but he continued. “I won't deny it, I'm not trying to hide it,” he chanted. It quickly became obvious just how inexperienced he was when he tried to pull off his pants without first having taken off his shoes. He tumbled to the ground pathetically, and looked up at Hermione sullenly. Hermione thought he looked adorable and she encouraged him to keep going. He paused for a second, thinking, and then he grabbed his wand and banished the rest of his and Hermione’s clothing with a sexy smirk.
Ron swung his hips exaggeratedly as he strutted back towards the couch and pulled Hermione up to her feet, pressing their bodies tightly together. “Baby, don’t you wanna, dance up on me,” he sung in quietly in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “To another time and place.” He ran his hands slowly down her back and grabbed her bum, pressing her even tighter against him. “Baby, don’t you wanna, dance up on me?”
Hermione responded by rolling her hips against him in the way she’d often seen women dancing in clubs. She grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his lips to hers forcefully, silencing his song.
“Oh Merlin, Ron, do you realize how gorgeous you are?” Hermione muttered against his lips.
“Mmm… only because you tell me so often,” he groaned as she planted kisses on his throat. “Merlin, that feels nice, love.”
Hermione backed him towards the sofa until he had no choice but to sit down, his knees buckling under him. She moved on top of him, placing her knees on either side of his legs and holding herself just above him. She watched him whimper with anticipation and she smiled. Yes, the make-up sex really is incredible, she thought in anticipation.
She slowly lowered herself down onto him, closing her eyes and breathing deeply at the feeling of him filling her. She paused a moment, just enjoying that sensation before she began to move again, raising and lowering herself up and down his shaft.
Ron reached a hand down between them and searched for her clitoris with two gentle fingers. She bucked her hips reflexively as he ran his expert fingers across her most sensitive spot. They had had a lot of practice at this, and he knew exactly what she liked. When they had first started experimenting, she had been very tense and uptight. It had taken Ron a long time to figure out how to relax her, but now it was second nature to them.
He stroked gentle circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves as she languidly moved above him. He rolled his head back against the couch in ecstasy. She loved the look on his face when she did something right. She watched as his breathing increased and she began to quicken her pace, feeling him bucking against her. She felt a tingling sensation building up inside her and her movements became more and more frenzied. He responded by thrusting harder up into her as she let herself crash down on him. At last she squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure as wave upon wave of tingling sensation washed over her.
Ron increased his thrusting and she tried to maintain her movements, but she couldn’t… it was just too much. Ron saw this and flipped her over onto her back, pounding himself into her over and over to reach his own release. Hermione groaned. She loved when he got a little bit rough with her. He was so big and masculine above her. She watched the flexing of the muscles in his chest as he moved above her and she felt a second orgasm building inside her.
Ron became almost frantic, thrusting erratically several more times. With one final thrust he came, groaning her name against her throat just as Hermione felt her own climax. They collapsed together, completely spent. Ron showered her with kisses, muttering how much he loved her, and Hermione closed her eyes in bliss.
“I’m sorry we fought, I’m sorry about what I said, I’m sorry about everything. If you don’t want Viktor at-”
Ron cut her off with another kiss. “Viktor. Can. Come. Love. I. Don’t. Care. Any. More,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses. “I’m sorry that I ever said otherwise, love. I’ve got the girl now, so I should be happy to rub it in his face.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been the one I wanted and you know it,” she muttered, slapping his arm playfully. “And why do you think I don’t mind having Lavender at the wedding? Victory is the best revenge…”
“Yeah, who’s the Victor now?” Ron teased, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “By the way, what was that song you were singing?”
Ron blushed. “Some Muggle song that Roxanne is often listening to at the shop. George says the singer is ‘one fit Muggle bird.’” Ron made air quotes.
“I see,” Hermione responded, making a face. “George lets his 11 year old listen to that?”
Ron kissed her. “You didn’t even dignify my victor joke with a response,” he pouted, only to be hit with the sofa pillow.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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ORIGINAL REQUEST
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive:
An argument (topic of author's choosing), and then making up. Classic Ron/Hermione.
Preferred Genre(s): Romance, Angst, Humor
Preferred Rating(s): R, NC-17
Canon or AU?: Canon
A specific you want: a serenade (doesn't matter who does it)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): As long as Ron isn't portrayed as a bumbling idiot, then I'm fine.
Thanks for participating in the Love in Full Bloom Exchange!