This was written for a Ron and Hermione Images Fic Challenge using a photo prompt.
A/N: Many thanks to lauryne78 for the beta work and Dove for the cheerleading! Enjoy! PLEASE REVIEW!
Ron Weasley followed his wife into their bedroom, continuing the rather lively discussion they had begun in the kitchen mere moments earlier.
"I don't get to say this very often, but Hermione, you're wrong. Simple as that. You. Are. Wrong."
"How dare you, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione was rapidly unbuttoning her shirt, which Rose had stained with grape juice during lunch, leaving her in only a red cotton camisole.
"H-how dare I? Are you serious? You're the one being completely ridiculous here."
"Me? I'm being ridiculous? You're the one willingly spending every day with ... with her!" Hermione unbuttoned her jeans and kicked them off as she ranted.
Ron watched as she bent over to gather her clothes for the hamper, his eyes involuntarily falling to her rounded arse framed perfectly in her black knickers. Tugging on his trousers to create some breathing room, he carried on his argument, "I didn't hire her Hermione, and you know that. There's nothing I can do about it."
"Of course there's something you can do about it! Tell them you won't work with her!"
"See, this is what I mean - ridiculous! I cannot go to the Head Auror and tell him I will not work with his choice for the new departmental assistant because I dated her for all of three months when I was sixteen and my wife is jealous." Ron ripped his baby vomit covered tee shirt over his head and threw it to the floor before stomping to the wardrobe to grab another.
"I am not-"
He pulled the fresh shirt over his head and as his face reappeared he was rolling his eyes, "Oh please, don't even bother denying it."
"You're a fine one to talk. What if I started working with Viktor? Seeing him everyday, spending long hours together. How would that make you feel?"
"I'd feel pretty frigging amazed that the ministry would hire a foreign national to work in such a high-security department such as yours. Not to mention he can barely fucking speak English!"
"There is no need for that kind of language. What about Cormac McLaggen? I've heard good things about his work at the ministry ... maybe I should see if he's interested in a transfer!"
"Dammit Hermione! Why are you doing this? I'm sorry Malcolm hired Lavender, but what's done is done. You don't have to bring up Vicky or McLaggen just to get at me. I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Ugh! You insufferable, absolute, total-"
Before Hermione could fully articulate her response, the cries of nine month old Hugo Weasley rang out through the house. "Now look what you've done! You've woken the baby."
"I woke the baby? You're the one shrieking like a kneazle in heat."
"Must you always be so crass?"
"I don't know. Must you always be such a shrew?"
Hermione just glared at her husband, her mouth open in astonishment.
"I'll take Rosie over to Mum's now," he said through gritted teeth as he spun around and headed out the door.
"Don't you walk away from me Ron Weasley!"
Ron turned to face her, "I'm not 'walking away' Hermione. I'm taking our daughter to her scheduled playdate with her cousins. I think maybe I'll go for a fly while I'm there. Too nice a spring day to stay inside. Hopefully that will give you time to cool off."
"Fine! Maybe I'll just write to Viktor while you're gone!" She picked Ron's rumpled shirt up off the floor with a 'hmpf.'
Ron stopped in his tracks, and his body tensed noticeably. Without turning around he said over his shoulder, "You do that. I suggest you take a moment to check in on our son before you do."
Hermione tossed the discarded shirt in her hand toward his retreating figure. The effect was anticlimactic, as it only fluttered slowly to the ground, despite the furor with which it was thrown. She could hear his deep voice down the hall as he gathered Rose before the faint 'Whoosh' of the fireplace marked their departure.
Hermione made her way down the hall to check on Hugo, whose initial cries had quickly changed to typical infant babble. She stopped and leaned against his doorframe, taking a moment to compose herself. Hugo was lying in his cot, sucking frantically on his toes; he had just discovered them within the last few weeks and they were now his new favorite chew toy.
"Hello there. How's my little man?" Hermione asked as she entered the room. Hugo turned his face and gave her a wide gummy smile. "I'm sorry if Mummy and Daddy were too loud, my love." Hugo clapped his chubby little hands and squealed, "dadadada," causing Hermione to break out into a genuine smile.
"Sorry, dada took Rose to visit Grandmum. Don't worry, he'll be back after he goes for a fly." Hermione's thoughts drifted back to Ron's hasty departure ... and her cruel words; she regretted all of it. She knew that Ron was right in this instance.
She picked him up from his cot and kissed him lightly on his head. "Oh Hugo, Mummy did a very bad thing."
He just smiled happily in response, a long line of spittle running out over his chin and sliding over Hermione's hand. She shook her head and laughed, enjoying the sparkle in Hugo's bright blue eyes. As she set him down to change his nappy she ran a hand over the light brown fuzz on his head. "You may not have his hair colour, but you are definitely all Ron."
Hugo's response was a resounding, "guhguhguh!" and Hermione could have sworn he flashed a fleeting lop-sided grin.
"Let me get you a fresh nappy and something to drink, then it's back to bed for you, Mister; that nap was not nearly long enough. Can't have you fussing from lack of sleep. You need your rest so you can grow up big and strong like Daddy."
After a warm bottle and several turns around the house to the songs on the wireless, Hermione danced Hugo, clad in only his nappy, into her bedroom, in hopes of coaxing the little boy back to sleep. The bedroom was bathed in the strong springtime sun, illuminating the bright coloured stain glass panels behind the bed.
When they had first moved in, Hermione'd had grand plans for creating the bedroom of her dreams, straight out of one of her mum's old decorating magazines. Ron vetoed her ideas for fancy ornate furniture with rich brocade fabrics. He said all he wanted was a big bed with simple covers and orange somewhere in the room. He said he couldn't sleep in a museum or anything too posh.
As Hermione set Hugo down on the cool blue sheets, she surveyed the room, taking in its simplicity and warmth. Ron had actually designed the wall made entirely of stained glass panels. The rectangular panels were each different colours; there were multiple shades of blue and green, with a few red panels, and even the occasional orange. Hermione lay on the bed, curling herself around Hugo, his feet by her head, enjoying the glow of the room and the company of her son.
"Daddy certainly was right about this room, wasn't he Hugo? Of course, he's right more often then I give him credit for, isn't he?"
No response from Hugo except for an attempt to grab Hermione's hair. She took his questing hand away and laid it across his bare belly.
"And he was definitely right today. I don't know why I still get so worked up over her. It's so far in the past and yet ... I just can't stop myself."
"Mummy's being very silly." Hugo turned to Hermione and flashed her a beautiful smile. She looked into the blue eyes of her son - her and Ron's son - and smiled back. He kicked his leg up and ran his toes through Hermione's hair; she ran her hand over his bottom, "I've been an idiot, he's not going anywhere. This," she said, patting Hugo's bum lightly, "is what's important to him, you, me, your sister - our family. We both fought too hard to get here to ever risk it."
"I love you my little man. Thanks for listening." She rubbed his stomach lightly as his eyes began to droop, "We had better get some clothes on, you and I."
"Don't do it on my account," said a deep voice from the doorway.
Hugo turned his sleepy face toward his father and gave him a drowsy grin.
"Hi," Hermione said shyly.
"Hi yourself," Ron said as he stooped down to the low bed and gently stroked Hugo's head. "Ready for some sleep there, Hugh?" He scooped Hugo into his large arms and rose to take him to his room. "I'll be right back," he said, his tone indicating that he wasn't quite over their earlier disagreement.
Hermione waited anxiously for Ron's return, trying to determine the best way to articulate her apology and explain her position. Any reasoned thoughts she may have had were thrown by the wayside once Ron reappeared at the foot of the bed, his hair windswept and face slightly reddened from the sun. His jaw was set, his shoulders back, spine straight - his fighting stance. He'd be a fierce sight if he weren't in his stocking feet with his big toe sticking out of a hole in his sock.
"I'm sorry!" Hermione jumped up and ran the length of the bed and leapt into his arms. With her arms wrapped firmly around his torso she buried her face into his chest, repeating her apology over and over. As he overcame his initial surprise, his body relaxed and he hugged her back, lifting her into the air.
"It's okay," he reassured her, setting her to stand back on the bed.
"No! It's not!" she cried as she wiped tears off her face. "I was awful! I was a big stupid cow!"
She cut him off by taking his face in her hands and kissing him fiercely before saying, "I don't say this often enough Ron ... and it is true more often then you realize..." She looked into his eyes and continued, "You" -kiss- "Are" -kiss- "Right." She threaded her hands into his hair and nipped lightly at his full bottom lip before taking her tongue and sliding it gently into his mouth to swirl with his own. Once she released his mouth, she peppered his face with quick little kisses, as her hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt.
He wrapped his hands around hers and pulled them gently back from his body, "Hermione, wait. I can't believe I'm saying this ... but we should talk about all this."
Hermione, her breath still coming out in small pants, nodded her understanding.
"You have to know, I would never-"
"I know, I know..."
"You and the kids, you're everything to me. You have to trust that; you can't doubt me."
"I don't doubt you Ron. I trust you, I swear I do. It's ... well, it's just ..." Hermione's voice trailed off as her eyes began to well with tears.
Ron gently cupped her face "Tell me."
"I guess it's just her ... I mean you fell for her before and now-"
"And now I'm exactly where I've always wanted to be, with you." He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on her forehead. "Hermione, you know damn well I never 'fell' for Lavender. Hell, I didn't even want her when I had her – you know that."
Hermione laughed quietly, "True…I trust you ... with my life, with my heart." She ran her hand over his cheek, "Guess I just don't trust Lavender with my husband."
He turned his head to kiss her palm, "That's right, Hermione - your husband."
"You're mine Ron, all mine." Hermione slid her hand around to the nape of Ron's neck and scratched her nails through the hairs at the base of his skull. Bringing his head forward, she smiled against his lips. "Only mine," she whispered, before pressing her mouth to his.
Hermione let herself get lost in the sensations Ron evoked in her. From the moment they met, he had been able to make her feel things more strongly than any other person. That ability only intensified as the years had gone by. The passion he was able to bring out of her over silly things like cats and rats was nothing compared to the ardor he could awaken in her with his kisses. As she parted her lips to engage him fully, she sighed in relief at the feeling of coming home – at being exactly where she was always meant to be. His strong hands on her body anchored her while his mouth sent her spirit soaring.
Her hands once again found their way to the hem of his shirt, and this time she met no resistance. Ron chuckled as she ripped the shirt over his head and threw it across the room. Any cheeky comment he may have planned on making was quickly forgotten when Hermione wrenched her own top off as well, leaving her in nothing but her black knickers. Acting on their own accord, Ron's hands immediately cupped her breasts, rubbing his rough thumbs over her hardened nipples.
She threw her head back and moaned, "So good." The sound of her own voice pulled Hermione from her reverie for a moment. She reached around to the back pocket of Ron's trousers and retrieved his wand. She pointed it at the door, which swung closed and momentarily glowed. "We can hear him, but he can't hear us," she explained before tossing the wand onto the bed beside her.
"Now, where were we? Oh yes, I remember," she reached for the button of Ron's trousers, "right here."
She released the button and slowly dragged the zipper down, making sure to press firmly against his bulge as she did so. Once she pushed the material over his hips, she ran her hands admiringly over his buttocks and around to rub his impressive erection. "Mine," she purred before pulling the pants down and releasing his throbbing cock. "Mine," she repeated taking him in hand and stroking him firmly.
Ron closed his eyes and groaned, "Yes, yours, all yours," as his fingers pinched Hermione's nipples, eliciting a squeak. Ron opened his eyes when the breasts in his hands suddenly disappeared as Hermione quickly knelt in front of him. Since she was on their platform bed, when she sat on her haunches her face was level with his penis. Ron's expression changed from one of confusion to awe in a split second as his wife's tongue darted out and took a languorous lick up his shaft. Ron watched with fascination as his cock was engulfed by Hermione's mouth. It was a sight he would never tire of, no matter how many times he witnessed it. After more than ten years together, it was still the hottest thing he could imagine.
"Damn Hermione ... so good," he panted as he curled his hands in her hair.
She expertly moved her mouth, tongue and hand along his shaft, alternately sucking, licking and stroking. Her free hand played with his bollocks, trailing her nails lightly through the soft ginger hairs growing underneath.
"I'm gonna ... shit, so close," he murmured sometime later.
Hermione removed her mouth, but continued her torturous strokes. "You're going to what Ron ... are you going to cum?" she asked with a sly smile.
All Ron could do was nod fervently in response. Hermione sat up tall on her knees and pressed Ron's penis between her breasts. "Go ahead Ron," she invited him.
He began to feverishly thrust into her chest, mumbling to himself, "So beautiful ... love your tits ... so good."
As he approached his climax, Ron suddenly pulled back and wrapped his large hand around his cock and pumped, spilling himself all over Hermione's breasts. Panting heavily, he tried to form words but his brain wouldn't cooperate. Hermione reached for the discarded wand and cleaned them both off while Ron recuperated.
Hermione watched her husband, her own arousal steadily increasing as he stood before her, eyes closed, chest heaving, and skin flushed. She noticed some of his semen still dripping from her breast. She ran her finger through the milky substance and, just as she brought it to her mouth, Ron opened his eyes.
"Mmmmm," she said, meeting his eyes and sucking her finger clean, "so good."
"I know what else tastes good," Ron growled, as he scrambled to remove the trousers and pants from around his ankles. The sexiness of the image he presented was tempered slightly by his hopping on one foot, trying to yank off his socks, his spent member bobbing merrily along. "You," he whispered once he was completely bare, his voice deep and throaty as he gently pushed her back onto the bed until her head was lying on the pillows. He slowly crawled the length of her body, covering her with open-mouthed kisses, until he reached her lips.
He laid his long body completely on top of her, covering every inch. He whispered into her mouth, "I've only ever loved you Hermione," before slowly and thoroughly kissing her fears away, breathing reassurance into her with each swipe of his tongue. He pulled away from her mouth, trailing kisses to her ear where he whispered huskily, "Always you."
Hermione melted into the bed and, closing her eyes, sighed, "Yes." She felt Ron smile into her neck just before he bit lightly on her pulse point. His large, talented tongue quickly flicked against the fresh wound, causing Hermione to shiver underneath him. Hermione tried to squirm and relieve some of the ache between her legs, but she was deliciously trapped under Ron's lean frame.
The rough stubble of his unshaven beard scratched softly on the delicate skin of her neck, causing Hermione to writhe with even more enthusiasm. She was torn between allowing him to continue the tortuous pleasure and seeking more.
"You didn't shave today," she noted breathlessly.
"Sorry," he mumbled into her skin, clearly not sorry at all. He continued his assault, raining kisses along her jawline. When his tongue lapped at the hollow of her throat she couldn't fight her urges any longer; she threaded her fingers through his soft hair and guided his head lower.
"Mmmmm, I'm not complaining," she moaned in appreciation.
"Good." Ron ran his bristly chin ever-so-lightly over the tip of Hermione's erect nipple, causing her to squeal, "That tickles!"
"You say that like it's a bad thing," he teased before repeating the action on her other breast.
Ron's tongue then meticulously traced concentric circles, beginning at the edge of her pink areola and moving slowly closer to her hardened nub, while his hand massaged her other breast, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Your skin is so damn soft," he murmured after feasting on one breast and moving to the other, nipping softly at the underside before he switched sides.
Hermione continued to scratch gently at Ron's scalp as he shifted and began kissing and biting along her torso, stopping to swirl his tongue around her navel. His hands traveled down her sides coming to a stop at the waistband of her simple black knickers. Ron's lips journeyed lower over the front of her knickers.
Hermione spread her legs to accommodate Ron, as he moved his kisses over the wet spot at her center. His teeth grazed the damp fabric, tugging lightly. "You smell so frigging good," he growled into her fanny.
Hermione unconsciously spread her legs open even further, allowing Ron more room to manoeuvre. He looked down at her center, "Damn, you're soaked!" He grabbed the sides of her underpants and yanked them over her hips. "Don't care how sexy these are, they have to go." Far from protesting, Hermione struggled to assist in removing them as quickly as possible. Once Ron had completely removed her knickers, he paused for a brief moment and smiled down at Hermione; his look of awe and reverence almost brought tears to her eyes. How could I ever think, for even a moment, that anyone else could share this with him? He loves me.
In that moment, Hermione remembered how she had begun scolding Ron about his table manners years earlier when they were just children. He still approached every meal with reckless abandon – as if it might be his last. Hermione had been thrilled beyond words when she'd discovered that the passion Ron often demonstrated during their rows translated into the same enthusiasm for her and her body as he showed at any Hogwarts feast. She would easily forgive him any lack of manners forever, so long as she was his main course.
Ron kissed his way up her legs, his hands running over her thighs in slow, sensuous circles. The stubble on his face tickled her inner thighs deliciously and caused her to quiver with need. "Ron," she moaned, seeking the end of his teasing, "please."
"Hmmmm?" he asked as he nibbled at the juncture of her leg and pelvis, leaving a small mark. "Is there something you need?"
"Yes," she threaded her fingers through his hair and scratched lightly, "you."
Ron did not hesitate to fulfill Hermione's desire, which clearly mirrored his own. Laying flat on his stomach, he grabbed Hermione's bum and lifted her up to indulge himself between her thighs. Lacking any restraint, he proceeded to place open mouth kisses on her center. When passion got the best of him, Ron's kisses grew increasingly sloppier, whether on her mouth or on her quim. Hermione had done enough research in the area of sexual relations to know that there was a technique that a man could follow in order to maximize a woman's pleasure during oral sex. Ron had obviously never read the instructions, and he definitely didn't need them. He had no refined 'technique'; he simply lost himself in the experience, like a man possessed. He acted like she was the most delicious thing he had ever put in his mouth, and he always swore that she was.
Hermione was so aroused that it really didn't take long for Ron to have her begging for her release. He swiftly placed two long fingers inside her, hitting just the right spot. While these moved at a pace he had perfected over the years, he placed his full lips over her nub and sucked firmly causing Hermione to clench around his fingers and scream his name in ecstasy.
The experience of tasting Hermione and watching her fall apart had aroused Ron to the point that he was once again aching with need. He hungrily kissed his way back up her body, letting his cock press against her still shuddering center.
Hermione was still recovering from her orgasm when she realized Ron was hovering over her. He kissed her greedily, and whispered against her lips, "I love you," before unexpectedly thrusting forcefully inside her. Hermione's eyes grew wide at the pleasant shock as she gasped her approval. She threw her head back as she arched against him, readily accepting all he had to offer.
Ron initially set a tortuous pace, pulling out slowly only to return to her with a powerful thrust. He punctuated each thrust with an admonishment for Hermione, "Don't. You. Ever. Doubt. Me. Again." She tossed her head from side to side as she tried to respond under the impact of Ron's ministrations, "Never ... so sorry ... love you ... so much."
Ron stopped thrusting, instead grinding slowly against her as he rested deep inside her. He laid his elbows on either side of her head and gently brushed her hair away from her flushed face. Meeting her eyes with an intense gaze he said, "Please Hermione, you have to know how much I love you."
She nodded vigorously, her eyes welling with tears, "I know, I know ... I love you too."
He started moving again, with shallow gentle movements as he explained, "There is nothing and no one in this world that can take me away from you, ever." She pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him deeply, indicating that the time for talking was over.
Ron snaked his hand down her side and ran it along her leg, coaxing it up over his hip, increasing the friction between them. He proceeded to pump into her with untamed zeal until they were both teetering on the edge of release. Ron suddenly pulled up and hooked her knees around his forearms and plunged into her at a frenetic pace, causing Hermione to quiver as her release built up from her toes to her center. Just as her orgasm hit, he released her legs and buried his face in her neck, growling her name; she bit into his shoulder as they came together.
Both lay panting heavily and trying to recover before Ron reluctantly rolled over. Hermione whimpered at the loss of the feeling of fulfillment as Ron withdrew, causing him to chuckle. "Sorry Luv, can't stay inside you all the time."
She curled up at his side, resting her head on his chest, "Sometimes I wish you could."
"Well that certainly would make work awkward for both of us, though it could prove an effective deterrent from any unwanted advances."
She playfully slapped him before raising herself up on one elbow. She ran her hand through his hair and over his face, "I'm so sorry Ron."
He turned and kissed her palm, "No worries." Just as they settled back for a cuddle, the monitoring charms went off in Hugo's room, indicating he had woken from his nap.
"I'll get him," Ron said as he got up to search for his clothes. "We'd better pull ourselves together…we have to be at Mum's for dinner before too long." He leaned back onto the bed, kissing her passionately, "Don't worry, we'll meet back here later after they go to bed."
"Mmmmm, can't wait."