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Chapter Text

Hermione Granger was very wound up and tensed at any given time, but one could hardly fault her that when she had been no more than eighteen during the war.

The constant state of vigilance had a terrible repercussion on her health and she would often flinch when anyone approached her unawares. 

Even the slightest hold on her shoulder would have her pinning the person against a wall with her wand whipped out and aimed at the bob of their throat. 

But Ron was used to it now. The side of his lips tugged up in a smirk and his blue eyes glittered with mischief.

"About to murder me, 'mione?" he teased and she rolled her eyes with a huff, pulling back and stuffing her wand away.

"Stop." She crossed to the set of books she had been going through on her table before he had interrupted her. His low chuckle from behind her made her smile and she had come to expect his heavy footfall following her, that would pause for a moment to admire her from behind before he closed the distance. Strong arms bound around her waist from behind, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

Breathing her in like she was the only thing keeping her alive since their awful days in the war. 

In a way, she had. 

They had been solace for each other in their darkest days, the nights when the fear came about in darkness. Kicking and screaming at an unseeing foe, only to have that familiar love whispered urgently into their skin. 

I'm here. I won't leave. Never again.

And here they were, years later, with the same soft caresses and the gentle graze of lips on shoulders. Slow squeeze of her arms and a kiss where her neck met her shoulder.

A shiver ran down her back and she felt him smile against her skin.

"Cat got your tongue, 'mione?" Her boyfriend purred, so very obviously smug about the reaction he'd elicited from her. She hummed, her eyes falling shut and tried to keep the flush from her cheeks.

They had never stopped bickering, even though they had been together for years now and she couldn't bear to let him one up her this time around. But right now her mind was buzzing with work and research for the book she was writing. Witty retorts were the last thing on her mind right now.

But there was one thing she could do... 

The thought made her cheeks burn brighter and Ron laughed again, thinking it was because of him and his teasing. 

Oh, the terrible tease he was. Still very respectful of the boundary she had laid down. For there was not to be sex till she was comfortable. And now at twenty-two, she willed herself the courage.

If only to shut him up this time.

So she turned in the circle of his arms and gave him a deceptively soft smile that made him arch a brow. 

"Ronald." She tilted her head to a side with a sweet smile. "You've been so very... Naughty. Have you not?"

He tsked, grinning wide. "Best you can do?"

"No." She slid her hand down to cup the placket of his trousers, earning herself a gasp and now she was the one grinning. "Maybe this is?"

His sharp canine bit down on his feral grin. "You sure?" 

She nodded, holding his gaze. Watch those blue eyes she loved so much and for so long turn into something she had only had a glimpse of before. Because he had been careful even when he had wanted her for so long. 

"Fuck, yes." One sweep of his arm and the books on her table crashed onto her floor. 

"Ron!" But Hermione gasped when he scooped her up and planted her on the table, pushing himself between her legs and his face back into her neck, kissing a path up to her ear before he tugged the lobe with his teeth. 

"Sorry." He sighed, pressing her face into the side of hers and her arms made their way around his neck. "I'll make it up to you. Promise. But right now I need you. Merlin, I need you."

The feel of him rocking against her jeans made her suck in a breath and she let it out slowly before she turned to him, searching for his lips and he met hers eagerly.

They kissed away the aches of the past and the worries of the future, nuzzling their love in the promise of the now.

"You can have me," She murmured against his mouth and he groaned, the buldge of him against her, somehow growing larger and for a minute she panicked because how much bigger could it get?

"Hermione." She looked up into his eyes and somehow he knew that was what she needed. The tension in her shoulders ebbed away, soothed by the rub of his palms against her sides under the t-shirt she had on. "I'll make it good for you. I promise, darling."

"I know you will."

They met again in a clash of lips and hands, fumbling with buttons and stewing clothes around the study. And Hermione pressed her thighs together after Ron peeled off her jeans and knickers together in one go, then took a step back to enjoy the view. 

"Gorgeous." His eyes greedily taking in her curves. The he knelt down in front of her, hands on her thighs. 

Always stroking, reassuring her. 

"It's going to be okay." He looked up at her. "I just want a taste."

Her cheeks burned as she sat there, nails digging into the side of the table, but she gave in anyway. Spreading herself open to him. He groaned at the sight and buried his face between her thighs, making her squeak. 

"You smell so good, Hermione." The slow stroke of his tongue along her slit had her eyes rolling back and a moan spilling out from her lips. "So bloody good."

"Ron," She whimpered, her fingers in his hair, tightening as he laved his tongue on her. "Ron."

He hummed into her core, those vibrations adding to the ecstacy it was to feel his tongue against her and she cursed herself for waiting so long.

"Ron, please!" She tugged at his hair, her legs shaking as he slurped her, his tongue circling her clit and a finger sliding into her. It was all so wonder and yet too much.

She couldn't—

A scream rippled out from her throat when she came, the stars erupting in the darkness of her eyes and he kept lapping at her, wanting every drop.

Hermione was trying to catch her breath when he stood up to his full height, his boxers pulled tight against his raging hard on with a damp spot against the navy blue bearing testimony to the leaking cock hidden beneath it.

A soft kiss on her curls and a ragged whisper. "We don't have to."

She shook her head. "No. I want it all."

She vanished his boxers with a snap of her fingers and watched in amazement as his cock slapped against his abdomen, now freed from the prison of cloth. It was thicker than she had expected, with a small curve to the left and a pearl beading at its tip.

It was a gorgeous sight, twitching before her and she reached out to wrap her fingers around it's girth. "I want it."

Softer now, but more determined. 

She led him down into her, watched him push in ever so slowly. Kissing her to remind her that he loved her and she knew he was holding back. 

"Faster," She begged because the stretch of him was so good. It was a warm slide, hurting only at the first stretch of his thick head and he paused when he noticed, allowing her a moment before he pushed in again. The pleasure that followed was earth shattering, her nails tearing a tale of passion into his back as she scooted closer to take more of him that he allowed.

A chiding nip on her ear but she giggled, tightening her legs around him.

"Bossy little thing," Ron grunted before he moved, in and out at a slow, steady pace. "Unbelievable."

She smirked. "I want it all, Ron. Is that all you can give me?"

He bit down on her shoulder hard before pulling back just enough to keep his tip in and then slammed down the whole way, making her head lol back and her arms go slack.

"Not even close, 'mione," He chuckled, looping an arm around her back to keep her steady, the other hand a tight hold on her thigh.

He fucked her hard, making her come on his cock before he joined her, uttering a litany of swears when her walls squeezed down on him. Milking him out.

"Fuck." He rasped, hands on her either sides, holding him up. His eyes grew wide when he realised what had happened, pulling his limp self out of her dripping heat. "Fuck... The spell — I..."

"I'm on Muggle contraception." Hermione purred, kissing his cheek and he laughed lowly, shaking his head. 

"Clever witch."

Chapter Text

It had been a few month since they'd started having sex and Hermione discovered that the bliss that followed being with Ron did wonders to her anxiety and sleep. A warm blanket of peace would pour over her and lull her into a sort of sleep she had yearned for a very long time. 

The kind where she slept deeply and undisturbed, even if Ron was wrapped behind her, snoring into her ear.

Harry had yet to suspect a thing. Even with the four o'clock shadow of a beard on his jaw, he still couldn't shake off his thoughts about Draco Malfoy’s whereabouts on top of his workload as an Auror. Hermione and Ron had moved in with him after the war and the three of them had lived together ever since.

But it amused Hermione to no end that Harry — great Auror that he was — had yet to spot the dark bloom of a hickey that often appeared on her neck of the various scratches across Ron's broad chest. And Ron often walked around shirtless, partly because Grimmauld place was always so hot and partly because he knew that the little trail of hair on his low abdomen did unspeakable things to Hermione.

She was having her regular Wednesday dinner — an order of fish and chips from the shop close by that had the best soggy chips in her opinion — when the two Aurors came home.

Harry first complained loudly about how ridiculous Draco Malfoy was because the man had the audacity to strut through the Auror department that morning in azure blue robes to meet with the chef Robards. Ron dropped with a snort into the seat beside Hermione and stole a few chips off her plate. She smacked his hand away, but he grinned tiredly, poking them into his mouth before he gave her a peck on her cheek.

She smiled at him, Harry raging in the background. "Busy day?"

"The worst," Ron grumbled, opening his mouth when she offered him a fry. "Six potion labs attacked in one night and three of them are Malfoy’s."

"Which is why Harry pissed?" Hermione asked knowingly, popping one into her own mouth. "Because you have to work with Malfoy?" 

Ron's lips twitched. "Because he can't understand why he goes crazy when the ferret is around, yes."

Ron was still upset later, his eyes distant when he exited the bathroom with a towel hanging low on his waist and Hermione watched for a moment from her bed before she snapped the book she was reading shut.

Throwing her legs off the bed, she sauntered up to him and grabbed his face, tiptoed to pull him down for a kiss. 

Ron's hands instinctively settled on her hips and he hummed into the kiss. 

"You need to relax." Hermione tugged his towel free and Ron gave her a tired grin.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Lay down."

"Bossy, " He sang but moved to the bed which creaked under his weight. His cock sat half hard, excited already.

Her heart fluttered — half excited, half anxious as she had only read about it — but she steeled her nerves, following him. Ron reached a hand to tug her shirt, but she slapped it away. 

"No. Today's about you."

His cock lifted its head, excited, and Ron loosed a chuckle, tucking his arms behind his head.

"Alright then." He winked. "Enjoy."

She started at his thigh, her tongue tracing a slow path upwards and he groaned lowly. "Fuccck...."

His cock poked at the side of her cheek as she curved a path up to his hip and she grasped the end of it, giving it a gentle stroke.

"Fuck that's good, darling." He rasped, but she kept moving, letting go of his cock to move her lips up along his stomach and chest, leaving a wake of goosebumps behind her till she happened on his clavicle and sucked a hickey onto his skin.

He was looking at her with those blue eyes so dark, she'd thought they'd turned black, and an admiration that shone in them like she'd hung the sun. 

"Darling." His tone gravelly with need, his arm moved around her and she smiled at the feeling of his large palm on her back. "You're taking charge. I'm so proud."

Hermione's eyes widened at his words because she had not realised it before. She had asked for sex — well, hinted at it mostly — but never had she made a move on him. Completely. Not until today. 

Privately, she had been too self conscious to make a mistake. Because the right touch came from experience, not from books. From exploring the body of your lover with tongue and teeth, learning what makes them feel right. 

"I guess I have." The bob in her throat felt too hard to swallow and he grinned wide, pushing her down towards him by his palm so he could kiss her deeply. 

"Wanted to suck you off," She mewled into his mouth and he hummed back, nipping at her lip. He rolled over, pinning her down and kept licking into her mouth.

"Don't want to hurt your pretty little mouth." Ron murmured back, grinding his hips down against the soft cotton of her shorts. "Sweet as it is. We can take our time, darling. But I can't say I don't like the enthusiasm."

He was teasing her. Again.

"Ron."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Can't help it. I want to fuck you now."

"But—"

"Hermione, we have our whole life ahead of us. I promise you, you can suck my cock as often as you like. Never if you don't. But please don't tell me I can't fuck you now."

His pathetic puppy dog eyes made her laugh. "Fine. But next time, I'm giving you a blow job."

"As you wish, darling."

Chapter Text

Hermione, being the brightest witch of her age and a certified menace to one Ronald Weasley, knew perfectly well that being away from the boys for three weeks would render her boyfriend rather needy.

And Ron Weasley was an obvious terrible mess indeed. 

All of it amused her greatly. Ron had even taken to wearing her beaded bracelet on his left wrist that he had found in her room. 

It wasn't as though they were not in constant communication either. Ron had taken to using mobile phones much easily than Hermione had anticipated, sending her pictures of himself at any odd moment because he was too embarrassed to tell her that he couldn't stop thinking of her.

It wasn't as if she didn't know, but Ron was absolutely pathetic about it this time.

Maybe it had something to do with the endless bikini pictures she had sent him, relaxing at a bungalow in Spain for Pansy's bachelorette.

Or the selfie she had taken of herself in the mirror, kneeling on her bed in just her thongs and an arm covering her tits. 

The catalyst of it all was Ron having to hear Harry complain about Draco Malfoy and his apparent inability to wear a proper pair of trousers that didn't stretch tight around the apples of his arse. There'd had been a lot of complains about said arse, Hermione gathered, reading through her sunglasses as she scrolled through Ron's many messages, lounging on a unicorn floatie. 

Ron: I swear if I have to hear about another arse again, I'm going to Avada myself. 

Hermione smirked before she keyed out a reply. 

Hermione: Including mine? 😇

The reply came almost instantly. 

Ron: Oh, my big booty monster. Yours is a gift. It's a treasure. It's where I wish to be buried when I die.

Hermione: Ron.

Ron: Too much? Alright. I'm sorry, darling. It's just that Harry's driving me mad and I can't think straight.

Hermione: My poor darling. What ever would make you feel better?

Ron: You sitting on my face. For an hour.

Hermione: RON!

Ron: Fuck, Hermione. Tell me you don't miss my tongue in your cunt.

Hermione: Maybe I don't.

Ron: You're such a brat. Fuck, when you get home, I'm going to tie you down and edge you for days.

Hermione laughed before she sent a final message. 

Hermione: You'll have to catch me first.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately for Ron, he didn't have the time to make good on his promise to edge Hermione for days because the situation with the labs had grown more serious than the Auror department had expected.

Hermione was at her own department at the ministry, stifling through pages of old laws and legislations when Pansy came over to her with a cup of tea and the news. Harry and Ron had been apart of a team that had been affected when an unsuspecting object blew up with a powdered potion that had a biological component. They suspected it had been left by the dark wizard who had attacked the labs at the start.

Enraged that the cursed objects hadn't been found when the location was first considered a crime scene, Hermione sent letters to every head at the Auror department but none could told them any more than she already knew. 

That Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were affected by a potion and were being treated at St Mungos. 

So Hermione Granger went home to a empty house and curled up on a cold bed that night, watching the illuminated hands of the clock on her bedside tick away. Worry kept her from sleeping and minutes turned to long hours into the night.

Sometime before dawn, her phone beeped and she sat up in a start, staring a the reply from Ron after she'd sent him a long string of messages begging for a scrap of information. 

His text was short. Cryptic even. 

Ron: Open the floor. Shut it behind me.

Hermione flew down the stairs, wand in hand and was before the fireplace in a matter of minutes. Standing there in just her knickers and Ron's old t-shirt that came down to her thighs, she made a comical sight. All wild haired with fluffy bunny slippers on her feet.

The flames flared up, green and angry, and out stumbled the tall man in the black button up he had worn to work that morning. Except it was singed in many places, like there had been multiple attempts to subdue him by magic. 

Ron tilted his head up, chest heaving and a strange sort of wickedness flashed through his endless blue eyes.

"Hello, darling," He purred, standing up to his full height — somehow bigger than he was that morning. His shirt stretched tight over his chest, a few buttons threatening to pop.

The knots in her stomach eased at the sight of him but didn't dissipate fully. She raised her wand higher, aiming at his face.

Because there was only one way to fathom if it was truly her Ron or if it was some beast in the guise of her man. Age and experience had taught her wariness and vigilance. 

Her voice was steady when she spoke. 

"Where did we have our first kiss?" 

He laughed aloud, tilting his head to a side and surveyed her with an almost animalistic lust gleaming in his eyes. Long fingers scratched the side of his exposed neck in almost talon like fashion. 

"Scared I am another, darling?" He purred, taking a step forward, but she narrowed her eyes, mirroring him with a step back. 

"Answer the question, Ronald." She said icily. 

He sighed dramatically and smiled once more. "The Chamber of Secrets, Hermione. That's where we kissed."

She relaxed, lowering her wand, but he continued in a strange type of madness, closing the distance between them. 

"The taste of your mouth is one I'll never forget." His eyes burning a trail of heat as he shamelessly ogled her. Her back hit the living room wall and she shut her eyes, looking away. 

"Ron," she squeaked and he laughed once more, gutteral and dark. 

"That's right, darling. Say my name."

"Ron!" She gasped again, fingers digging into his biceps at him trailing his tongue up along the length of her neck.

"So fucking sweet." He nipped her ear. "My woman is delicious. Mine. My mate."

"Mate?!" Her brows furrowed. "Ron, what are you talking about? I don't understand."

"Well, understand this. I'm not going to be able to hold myself back if you keep wriggling your hips like this. I want to devour you. Till my knees carve indents into the wooden floors. I am hungry, Hermione. And I swear, if you don't run right now, I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll have my babies in the morning."

He breathed her in deep, nostrils flaring and pulled away with an agonising growl.

Hermione's knees buckled, staring up at him. Unable to comprehend what had happened to him. 

"I don't.."

"Hermione." He sounded strained, his hands tightening into fists on his either sides. A vein along his arm grew taunt. "Its some sort of hormonal potion. It's making me crazy from the inside. I need you. I need to fuck myself into you so badly, darling. It's urging me to, but I can't..."

He broke off, shaking his head and breathed in shakily. "I need you to run."

"Ron," She said urgently, reaching out to touch him but he backed away. It hurt, but not as much as the pain in his eyes from holding himself back. "Ron, you won't hurt me."

"Hermione." He gritted out, lowly. "Run. Because if I catch you, I'll fuck you."

She watched the heavy rise and fall of his chest, the pain beneath his unblinking gaze. His lips pulled back in a snarl. 

And Hermione Granger had never been more wet in her life. 

"It's based on pheromones. On natural instinct." She tried to think. "You need to fuck it out."

He gave her the most incredulous look he could manage in his frenzied state. 

"I am going to wait it out." His voice was steely.

Hard enough to make her squeezed her things and she watched his nostrils flare. So he could smell her arousal. Even better.

"Hermione, don't," Ron warned.

Her Ron. It was her Ron. Even if he looked bigger than usual, like he could tear her apart. But Merlin, did she want him to tear her apart. 

Shaky breath and trembling fingers, her fingers found the hem of the old shirt she had on and Ron hissed when she pulled it up and off, standing there before him in all her naked glory. 

He had been right, she was more daring now. 

Less self conscious that her right breast was slightly smaller than her left, that there was meat on her hips. But he had kissed along the nooks and valleys of her body, teasing out every sinful secret with his tongue. His worship had strengthened her will, steeled it enough so she could tip her chin up defiantly at her Alpha-presenting boyfriend with a dampness in her knickers that would surely have him ravage her given half the chance. 

Fuck. 

She wanted to be ravaged.

"I'm not leaving." She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice and the last she heard was his low chuckle before he pounced on her. Tongue and teeth on her neck, her shoulder, her breast, and Hermione cried out to the ether as his pair of powerful hands grabbed her ass and hauled her up against him. 

A low moan when she felt the tent of his new beast against her with every grind of his hips. 

"Fucking tease." He growl against her neck. It reverberated through her being, had her mewling in need. "You want me to fuck you endlessly, don't you? A little slut for my knot. Waiting to be bred by me like the good little fuck-toy you are."

The magic had rendered Ron into a quite a different person. He wasn't usually like this and yet, with all the filth he was promising her, Hermione discovered she wasn't upset.

If anything, the degradation had her quivering for more. 

"Please. I'll be good. I'll be so good."

"But you haven't." He bit down on her neck — making her yelp — then soothed it with a lick, still humping against her. "And only good girls get to come, Princess."

He ripped her knickers off in a trice, licking into her mouth and moaning into it. A finger — almost talon-like in feeling — slipped into her wet heat, stroking at the slit.

"So wet for me, my little slut." She whimpered as the finger slid further into her, thumb circling her clit. "So perfect for my cock."

She squirmed, the inferno low in her belly growing because of his mouth and fingers for another joined inside, scissoring her while he sucked a bruise onto her breast.

"Ron, please," she moaned, scrambling to undo the buttons of his trousers and discovering that his cock was straining against the confines of his boxers, threatening to rip it open. "Holy fuck!"

She was momentarily startled at the size of him, letting out a squeak when he hauled her over his shoulder and strode across the hallway to the couch, setting her down over the arm with an audible smack on her arse. 

She yelped and he smacked her ass again. 

"The red looks so good on you, darling." He murmured and then she felt the stroke of his tongue where her arse burned. She sighed into the pillow, feeling his tongue move lower, longer than was considering normal to lap at the wet heat gathered between her thighs. One long lick after another and her stomach twisted into a tight knot, ready to snap.

Ready to come. 

But he pulled back. And the high faded into frustration. 

She groaned, trying to glare at him from over her shoulder, but all she saw was an unapologetic smirk followed by the stroke of a monstrous cock between her folds. 

"I told you, my pretty slut," He chuckled a rasp. "Only good girls get to come."

She wanted to answer back, but every response at the tip of her tongue was forgotten the moment his thickness pushed into her, stretching her open in a medley of pain and pleasure. Hermione gasped, moving a trembling hand down to feel her feel stomach when he sheathed himself fully.

"Ron... It's so big." She could have sworn her stomach was budging slightly with the size of him.

He just grunted and moved back till only the head of his cock was inside and then slammed himself down fully. She cried out, but he didn't stop, relentlessly fucking into her.

"Told you to run, precious." He leaned over to nip her ear, the tips of his fingers digging into her hips. "Told you I'd fuck you if you didn't."

"Harder." Hermione mewled into the cushion and Ron growled, snapping his hips quicker till the wet slap of his body on hers was drowned only by her cries.

It was a merciless ecstacy that had her aching back, her breasts bouncing as he pounded into her and then she felt it — the swell of his cock — and she grew louder than ever. Her walls were as unforgiving as her mate and squeezed down on his form hard enough to have him grunting, spluttering warm ropes of come deep into her.

Ragged was her breath as he pulled out slowly, turning her around gently to face him.

The constellations that was her gaze was a map of black and white till it sharpened into Ron. Her Ron, panting and dazed, looking normal as ever. 

Not so normal, she blinked, watching him with a hard swallow. He looked worried. 

"Darling." His tone chiding and concerned, a trembling hand to cup her cheek. "I shouldn't have. I should have waited. I—"

"I would do it again if I have to," Hermione blurt out quickly, then grew flustered at his raised brow. Her cheeks burned and she grew meek. "I'd want to."

Ron laughed deeply and leaned over her, braced on his palms on her either sides and rested his forehead against hers. Their breaths in sync, growing more relaxed.

"You'll be the end of me, darling."

She answered with a giggle. 

Chapter Text

"Listen to my voice."

Darkness was her sight and she squirmed, wishing she could pull her blindfold off. But she couldn't. Not yet. 

He tsked. "Sit still, Hermione. You can do it."

She willed her racing heart to calm down, but she was too flustered to find the words to retort. 

A soft laugh. "You're a good girl, darling. Come on now. Spread those legs. Just like that, baby. Fuck, your cunt is so fucking pretty."

She was sure she was dripping like a juicy peach at this point, waiting to be tasted. 

"Mm.. Now use your fingers. Reach down between your legs and rub yourself slowly. In circles."

Her face burned and she could almost see his smug face on the other side, watching her from his armchair. She had messed up by telling him she had never touched herself and he was determined to watch. 

It was terrible in the best way.

She followed his instructions, rubbing her nub in slow circles with the pads of her fingers. 

"There we go. Atta girl."

A quiver ran down her back as she preened at his praise. 

"Fingers to your lips now, darling. Lick your juice off. Theeeere we go. Now back down. Yes, slowly. I want to see you ache. And slide your fingers insider then out. Yes, baby. Yes."

She let out a gasp, lost to the feeling and his voice. Letting her fingers curl in at his command and tease out an orgasm. 

Finding pleasure in her own touch at the gentle urging by the man she adored. 

Knowing perfectly well that he was tied to his armchair. His cock standing tall, throbbing angrily as beads of white glistened on it's head.

And Ron couldn't do a thing about it. 

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger would never tell anyone, but Pansy Parkinson that her favourite part of being in love with her best friend was how safer his arms felt over the years. 

While his scent and hold was always a comfort, the years had made him taller and wider, perfect for snuggling into and cuddling with. 

They did so while watching some fake drama on television or real drama where Harry paced holes in the old Black family carpets as he spun theory after theory that the potions that had exploded in Draco’s lab had been planted.

Intentionally. 

Targeting him. 

And obviously by Draco himself. 

The duo were thoroughly entertained and when his complains grew tiresome and boring, they retired up to the privacy of their own room to watch television. 

With Hermione watching a rerun of who's line is it anyway and Ron sliding his thick cock between her folds from behind. Propped up on her palms, she giggled at a scene that played out on the screen, pretending to be unaffected by the slow drag of his manhood along her wet heat. 

He hummed, pressing his face into the crook over her neck as he hovered above her, his arms by the side of hers and enveloped her with his size. 

"You're being a menace." He complained and she bit back a giggle, smothering it before it spilled out.

"I don't know what you mean, darling." She forced her eyes on the screen and tried not to give in to his soft kisses along her shoulder blade.

He shifted slightly, allowing his weight onto one arm, the other maneuvering his cock, notching the head to her entrance. 

Hermione bit down on her lip, but moved her legs inconspicuously wider to allow him inside, and he did push in with one go. 

Then he pushed her thighs together, fucking her cunt through her thighs slowly. She gasped, not having expected it and let out a moan when he slid in and out lazily.

"Mmm... Next time." His hand came down hard on her left butt cheek and then he rubbed it. "Next time, remember you can't pretend I don't affect you, darling."

Her fingers curled into the sheets, whimpered. 

"Next time, Hermione —" She made a small sound between a scoff and a groan, sinking down onto her pillow as the pace of his fucking went up a notch. A thrust harder at each word to get his point across. 

"Remember — you. love. me." 

Chapter Text

She didn't mean to at first, but it kind of just kept happening. And Hermione found the whole ordeal a little funny. 

They preferred sex in the morning, slow love-making as they whispered to each other.

Ron tightened his fingers in her hair as she sucked him, laying on bed at the crack of dawn, and told her how he thought Harry might be right about his suspicions about Draco Malfoy. 

Because Draco Malfoy seemed very amused about the whole phenomenon scandal when he arrived at the DMLE for a case update. He was especially ecstatic when he heard how Harry had growled his name while he was stuck at St. Mungos the three days he had to wait out the effects of the magic. They'd given him a teapot to fuck while he was stuck in his room but his mind had been entirely on the blond prat. 

Which Harry would declare after, that it was only because Draco rubbed him the wrong way. 

Hermione pulled her mouth back from his leaking member with an audible pop, licking her lips and asked. 

"Well, does he wish Draco rubbed him the right way then?"

Ron with his chest rising and falling with every breath, threw his head back in a gaffaw. Groaning immediately after when Hermione fondled his balls.

His hand flexed in her hair. "Merlin, Hermione. You're going to kill me. Get onto my lap, darling. I want you to ride me."

She giggled as she moved, dripping onto his lap with a soft moan of her own. Palms placed on his chest, she smiled down at Ron before she slowly rocked her hips.

"You look so good beneath me."

"Mm.. Yeah? I think I look better when I come in you." His large hands left her curls, moving down her slowly as if memorising her curves and softness before they came to settle on her hips.

The slow stroke of his thick cock against her clenching walls had them both flushed and groaning. Hermione knew Ron liked her like this, taking control and using him. They had discovered more things about each other over time and one of them were the wonders of sharing control.

She could tell he was almost there with the way his face contorted and his fingers dug into her hips, and she was about to join him on his wonderful free fall into pleasure when Pansy's Patronus burst into the room.

The panther, all grace and judgement spoke in Pansy's voice and Hermione had to scramble off Ron, her orgasm forgotten in the face of the emergency. 

Ron followed her as she hurried into her closet to get some clothes on, leaky cock still in hand dripping with her essence. 

"Fucking Parkinson, do you have to go so fast? Can't she deal with it for ten more minutes?"

"It's the researcher from Spain, Ron," Hermione pulled a shirt on over her bra, whispering spells to clean herself. "Pansy can't deal with him alone because it's based I have the notes."

"Well, you can send her the notes. Floo it to her." Ron watched as she pulled her skirt on whilst stumbling to the fireplace.

"Ron, I'm sorry." Hermione paused and turned to her very naked and still very much turned on boyfriend to kiss his mouth. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

But the next day was worse. She had to rush to work in the middle of sucking him off and Ron howled in frustration as she dissappeared into the green flames. 

Sitting in her desk at the Ministry, Hermione grinned when she thought of Ron. There was some sadistic joy in keeping him waiting so when the third day came around, she tied him down and teased him with her mouth and cunt before she left him that way.

He texted her that evening and the terrible witch smirked even wider. 

"Oh, darling. I cannot wait to punish you for this."

Chapter Text

Payback was a karmatic bitch.

But fuck if it wasn't a sexy one. 

"Can't hear that last line, darling." His tongue dragged a slow lazy circle around her before he pulled away and smirked at her. A tease and a terrible one at that. "Louder, please."

All Hermione desperately wanted was to close her thighs against the sides of his head and demand he finished what he started, but she couldn't. 

Not even if she tried. 

Because of a well placed sticking charm holding her down onto the bed, legs apart and he teased her mercilessly. He wasn't edging her, not quite. He merely stopped when she did, but it was hard for her to continue to read out loud when she could feel the shake in her legs, the twists in her stomach. 

The high so very close. 

And her breath would stutter out and her mind would be mush. 

Then he would pull away because she had stopped. Because she had not kept her end of the bargain. 

"Fuck you," She gritted out, a bead of sweat trickling down between the valley of her breasts. The ache between her legs weeping for him. "I hate you."

Ron tsked, pressing a soft kiss against her her thigh. "No, you don't."

"Ronald. Please." 

"Read to me, darling. You know how I enjoy hearing about..." He snorted, glancing at the book that sat between them in her arms. "Fifteenth century Goblin politics."

"Its a very interesting subject." She shifted in her seat, grumbling. She hated him making her wait. She loved him making her whine. She was obsessed with their private little game of punishments so sweet.

But fuck him if he thought fifteenth century goblin politics wasn't interesting.

A drag of his tongue along her heat had her throwing her head back again with a loud moan. A nip to her clit had her squeaking. 

"Read to me, or I'll leave you like this."

So she did, her voice unusually high and her eyes swimming as she squeaked across Bladuwud the third's study of Goblin magic and she was sure she read the last line twice before she dropped her book on his head when he lapped and licked and sucked.

The book didn't stop Ron who kept devouring her and didn't stop even when she tipped over, greedy for every drop of her pleasure.

And what glorious pleasure it was. 

Chapter Text

It was at breakfast one Saturday morning when she said it.

Ron was frying some bacon in just his sweatpants sitting low on his waist as usual, the scars Hermione had left on his back still bright against his freckled skin. Harry was there too, nodding into his coffee at the dining table, too drowsy from having spent Friday night having a voluntary stake-out around Malfoy Manor. 

Obviously for the sake of his current case of course. Not because that's what Harry Potter had been doing all his life — stalking Draco Malfoy.

She'd walked in, wild-haired and hungry, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she collapsed into the seat beside Harry.

"Good morning," chirped Ron merrily from the stove, tipping her a cheeky wink. How he was always so bright-eyed in the mornings was beyond her, but at least she woke up to a delicious breakfast. 

"Morning," Harry mumbled, forehead against the table and followed it by a soft snore. The coffee beside him long forgotten. 

"G'morning." Hermione stretched out for the Daily Prophet across the table, turned to the front page and frowned at the headlines. "Harry's had a long night, has he?" 

"Stalking, of course," Ron chuckled as he walked over setting her plate of a full English breakfast before her. "Dig in, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Daddy." Hermione said unconsciously, reaching for a toast to nibble on, still glued to the Daily Propher. Her hand was halted by another, a larger one, wrapping itself around hers. 

"What did you say?" Ron's voice was deceptively quiet, brimming with emotion that she was too sleepy to fathom. She glanced at him, eyes widening and blinked. 

"Huh?" 

"What did you just say, Hermione?" 

"Thank you?" 

"No. Ugh. Yes, but what did you call me?" His impatience was uncharacteristic and she had to rack her brain to remember. 

"I called you... Darling?" 

"Nope. Try again."

"Wait, I didn't call you Malfoy, did I?" 

"Hermione." Ron pulled his hand away, smacking it on his face and then dragged his thumb and forefinger over his eyes. "Darling, you're killing me."

"Oh, you're being dramatic." Hermione scoffed, turning back to her paper, but his fingers cupped her chin, forcing her gaze back at him. He was close, so very close that he breathed his words against her lips. 

"I'll be as dramatic as I fucking want. You called me daddy."

Her breath stilled in her chest. "I did."

"Mhmm." His eyes were a darker blue. The kind that promised her heaven and sin. "Let me ask you this, Hermione. Do you want to carry my babies?" 

Their noses touched lightly and she smirked, setting her palm over his racing heart and knew he felt just the way she did. Jittery and excited. So she kissed him. Slowly, deeply, fully. Pulling away with the tug of his lower lip and his breathless chuckle. 

"May I do." She tilted her head slowly to a side, letting him see the hickey he had left on her neck the night before. "Maybe I want you to be a daddy."

His eyes zeroed in on the bruised spot of skin, then he leaned forward, dragged his tongue lazily along her clavicle, up her neck. Mumbled into the shell of her ear, making every cell in her body tingle. 

"I'm going to fuck you so hard on the breakfast table that you're going to be pregnant before you get off it."

"Promises, Daddy." She giggled softly. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, making her squeak. 

"One I intend to keep." He chuckled, her laughter an infection and his eyes grew bright with love. 

"Daddy." She said again, enjoying the way he groaned, clearly affected by it.

"Tease." He tickled her sides, making her laugh so more, swatting at him. 

"Stop that, Daddy."

They broke apart when Harry woke up with a groan and a hacking cough. He looked at the beady eyed, voice heavy. "Who's your daddy?" 

Ron turned beet-red, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and Hermione laughed. 

"Ron." She said honestly and Harry chuckled, grabbing the newspaper from in front of Hermione. 

"Funny. He'll need a girlfriend first." 

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger had been in a rather cheeky mood all day. 

It was a Sunday and there wasn't much to do except eat some wonderful take out, sit around the telly and fuck her boyfriend. Having done two out of three and currently listening to poor Harry who seemed to be a his wits end with Draco, Hermione decided to have some fun.

"Maybe he's just turned over a new leaf, Harry," she said, nicking the last spring roll from the take-out box. "And his new style of those blue cloaks is definitely from his mum's new French line. Suits his eyes."

She felt Ron — who was sitting beside her, watching a chess tournament on the telly and tugging lazily at her wild curls — stiffen. And that made her smile to herself.

Harry grew thoughtful. "I don't think so."

"You don't think it's from his mum's line? I was thinking of getting some for myself. Especially the one he wore on Friday. Do you think it comes in my size? We could match." There was a little tug at her hair, sharper, but she didn't look at Ron. 

"No, it's definitely Narcissa's and it does come in your size. I have a few in my closet you can check out before you buy your own. Maybe resize them. I remember Cissy said there was an alternation charm and a guide in the box that came with it." Harry said distractedly. "I meant blue really isn't Draco’s colour."

Hermione paused, wondering when Harry had ever purchased from Narcissa Malfoy and why he was so comfortable with calling her Cissy and said as lightly as she could. "Well, I think blue is Draco’s colour. He looks good in it."

Another tug at her hair and because Ron was being a git, she added. "You have to admit, Harry. Draco Malfoy is rather handsome."

"Well, Draco looks good in everything." Harry huffed and scooted back into his armchair with a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. "And he is handsome. That's not the point then."

Yet again came a tug at her hair which Hermione pointedly ignored, too engrossed in her friend's subtle confession. "Yeah? So what really is Draco’s colour, Harry?"

She watched as Harry heaved in a deep breath and whispered. "Green. Bottle green and ebony flecks. A high neck collar and —"

Oh? 

She stared at Harry, wide-eyed, and he remembered himself, growing crimson in his cheeks.

"Harry," She began gently, with every intention of making him see the truth of his feelings but he sprang to his feet instead.

"We need more milk," He said rather loudly. "I'll go get some."

Then he turned on his heel and fled out the front door as fast as his feet could carry him. Hermione watched him go, her lips parted with surprise. 

"Do you think he knows?" She said. "That's he's in love with Draco Malfoy?"

A gentle grasp of her chin turned her face towards Ron's. A smirk tugged his lips. Eyes that dark, stormy blue already.

And Hermione's thighs clenched with anticipation under her skirt. 

"The question is..." Ron leaned closer, exhaling his words against her lips. "Why have you been watching Draco Malfoy so much?"

A giggle squeaked out of Hermione. His head tilted, sinking into the crook of her neck to nuzzle her. Breathe her in. Strong arms bound around her and her own slipped around his neck. 

"Darling, are you jealous?" She whispered with a smirk of her own, watching the tips of Ron's ears turn red. She let him push her down onto the couch, ran her fingers through his hair when he ran his nose down her, moving down the valley of her breasts, her stomach, till he came to her skirt and ripped it off her with one swift move.

She gasped loudly, pressing her thighs together, rather surprised at his act. 

Ron was sheepish. "Are you okay? I'll fix your skirt, I was trying to be like one of those guys from the books you read."

She rolled her eyes at the man, her smile growing gently, fonder and she cupped his cheek when he raced himself on his palms on her either sides and hovered over her. "You're doing great, love. Keep going."

A sparkle in his eyes. "Oh, you're going to enjoy this."

He moved lower, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on the cotton of her knickers. "Because... This is mine. All mine."

Hermione hummed, her nails grazing his scalp and her eyes fluttered close. Ron tugged her knickers to a side and kissed her softly again. 

"I don't like you thinking of Draco Malfoy when you could instead be thinking of me." The slow drag of a tongue against her slit had her moaning softly.

"Yes, darling." She mumbled.

He pulled back, mischief dancing in his eyes. "And you knew what you were doing."

"I did."

"Terrible witch." He reached for the wand — Harry's — that sat abandoned on the centre table. "Can't believe Harry left this behind. He truly is his father's son." He plucked it up. "Do you trust me, Hermione?"

She watched him twirl the wand in his hand, testing the tip and the breath stuttered in her chest. "I.. Do. Are you–?"

"Yeah." He raised his brows at her faltering confidence. "It's not very unusual. Fred and George told me once that Percy used it on himself all the time."

He paused, growing thoughtful. "They could have been lying though."

"Ronald." Almost impatiently.

"Yes, yes." He said hurriedly, holding her knickers to a side to bare her pretty cunt and let the tip of the wand slide along her slit. She sighed at the unexpected coolness of the wand tip.

Then Ron whispered a spell and the wand started to vibrate.

"Ron." Hermione held his biceps when he teased the wand tip between her folds.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable, darling." He whispered, casting another spell — this time of a lubricant.

She moaned loudly when he pushed it in, the vibration growing a temp and the feeling had a familiar fire building low in her belly. "Ron."

"Yes, darling." He praised, pushing it deeper into her. "There you go. Look how beautiful you are."

"Fuck." She gasped, her nails digging into his arms and she arched her body. "Fuck. Oh, Ron!"

"Such a filthy mouth for such a pretty girl." He teased, leaning down to press a soft kiss on her lips. "Let go, darling. Come for Daddy."

Hermione wanted to laugh, but the vibration from the wand moving in and out of her had her clenching her non-existent abs. "Ron. Please."

"Shhhh.." The vibration grew stronger and she cried out. "You look so pretty, crying out my name."

She was tethering on the precipice of her most intense orgasm. Then he kissed her clit and sucked on it gently, pushing her over her freefall.

Her chest rise and fell with the intensity of it all, trembling as she came down from her high with Ron kissing her all over her face and telling her what a good job she did. He lifted her into his arms easily, holding her against him in a bridal fashion and carried her up to her room.

He would get her water and cuddle her under the duvet, making her feel safe. 

And Harry's wand sat abandoned once more in the living room where Ron had left it. 

Chapter Text

Hermione wished had taken a picture of Ron's expression when she voiced the thought she had brewing in her mind over the days.

He raises a finger in question, puts it down again as he thinks about it with his lower lip between his teeth and then sits up straight.

Gives her the kind of look she'd seen him giving Harry a fair few times over the past week or so when Harry kept mumbling random ferret facts under his breath. 

What fun, Ron thought she had lost her mind too. 

So she throws her head back with a laugh.

Then she explains again and now he's sure she has lost her mind. 

"Hermione," He began, tugging her onto his lap "While I'm all for sexual discovery, I don't understand why we've got to experiment with giving me a cunt. Why not just sleep with a woman?"

"And cheat on you?" Hermione gasped, hand on her heart in a dramatic fashion.

Ron rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. "It would be just one night." He spoke gently. "I know you still love me."

She melted when he gathered her into his arms, hauled her against his chest and brushed his lips on her forehead. She breathed him in, pressing her face into his shirt. The scent so familiar, so... Home.

"No, darling." Hermione glanced up to look at him. "If I ever sleep with a woman, it will have to be you."

She didn't ask him again. Or talk about the potion she had procured for the very circumstance, knowing fully well that she needed to give him time to think about and talk (vaguely) to Harry about it.

Hypothetically the conversation would go with Ron asking Harry what he would do if he ever had a cunt and hypothetically, Harry would say he'd push the button to cum or stick things inside to see how deep it was. Proving he wasn't a wizard for the women.

But this conversation was not really hypothetical and Hermione hid behind the door of the kitchen, doubled up and wheezing with laughter as she listened to the boys talk about it and to Ron trying to tell Harry the clit wasn't exactly a cum button.

She did feign obliviousness when Ron came to find her a while later and declared he would go as far as to having a cunt, but he drew the line at breasts. And that it would only happen once. 

Hermione grinned at him. It was going to be brilliant.

Ron laid down on Hermione's bed, not daring to look between his parted thighs. 

"I feel like I've dropped my balls." He groaned, pressing his palms to his eyes. "And why is it so sensitive? Even the bloody fan is making me clench something inside."

But Hermione was too busy staring at the sweet little bud to explain anything to him. She stroked a light finger along the swell, watching him react with a shudder and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on it.

Ron made an indiscernible sound between a whimper and a moan, and Hermione took it as a sign to keep going. She flattened her tongue along the soft skin, then used her thumb and index finger to part his folds so she could lap at the heady sweetness inside.

He grew louder now. Arching his back and squirming so much that she had to press her arm across his waist to hold him down while she licked and sucked, dipping both her tongue and finger into his core. 

"I'm so close." Ron's fingers tightened into her sheets, but she didn't want him to come. Not like this. Moving to straddle him, bracing her small palms on his knee, she lowered herself gingerly, gasping when their cores touched.

"Fuck," Ron hissed, pushing his hips up and she moaned again. "Fuck, Hermione. That feels so good. I need more."

She rocked herself on him, their voices a call to the heavens and she felt his warmth squirt against her core, moaning and moving faster to join him. She came soon after and Ron grabbed at her hips, forcing her down as he ground up against her. Riding out her high.

Hermione collapsed onto Ron's chest, listening to his ragged breathing that matched her own. His arms bound around her tight. Lips brushed against the crown of her curls.

A hoarse whisper. "Was that good, darling?"

"So good." She was boneless, barely able to mumble back. Sleep was heavy on her eyelids.

A large hand stroked down the length of her spine. "How did you even make a potion like that?"

"Didn't make it." She mumbles.

"Oh? Where did you buy it from then? I've never heard of something like this before."

"Didn't buy it." She was almost asleep, lulled by the cosiness of her orgasm and the warm arms of her lover. 

"Hermione?"

"Stole it from a lab making hormonal potions. I know where that Alpha one came from."

"Where?"

"Malfoy’s." And she was asleep.

His hands stilled on her back. Then Ron Weasley swore softly. 

"What... The fuck?" 

Chapter Text

She smiled when she heard him stir behind her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and tightening his arm around her waist by a bit. Just enough to hold her against him. 

"Morning," He rumbled into her neck and she hummed in response.

"Morning. I see you've got your cock back." She pressed her hips back against him and the hardness that had been poking into her, sliding between her thighs even before Ron was awake.

"Mhm." He nibbled on her neck, slowly thrusting his cock between her thighs. "Can't say I didn't miss it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Missed fucking you with it."

His arm loosened, moved away. The calloused tips of his fingers trailing down the curve of her body to her hip and held her in place as he continued to fuck her thighs. 

It was a delicious torment, the grind of his cock against her weeping cunt — giving but not enough. And she wanted to squirm but he had a strong, albeit gentle grasp on her. Keeping her where he wanted her. 

"Terrible, delicious witch." His tongue dragged across her shoulder and she arched her back, wanting, needing, so much more and squeezed her own breasts. Growing wetter with every tormenting drag of his hard warm cock, slick with her essence. 

"Ron," She mewled at his low growl, at the tease of his teeth on her neck, grazing along her pulse. 

"The things you have me do, witch." He bit down, soothing it immediately with a lick. "The way you drive me barmy. I have no brain cells left when it comes to you."

She wanted to laugh, to scream. Because he wouldn't fuck her. And it was so good even though it wasn't. 

His tempo grew as did her frustration and he grunted when his pace stuttered, pooling warmth between her legs, her cunt woefully empty.

She grinned at him when he pushed her onto her back. He winked at her when he spread open her thighs. A kiss to her stomach. Another lower, on her waist. The third to her clit. 

"What a good morning it is." Ron said, dipping his head to taste her, to taste him on her. "And now, it's time for breakfast."