Title: Anatomically Impossible
Pairings: Ron/Hermione, possible implied Ron/Hermione/Harry
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Bad Porn theme prompts: “bad porn language” and “best friends who never realized there was anything more until...”
Other Warnings: hapless!Ron sex (does that need its own warning?)
Word Count: ~2000
Summary/Description: Ron hadn't quite realised what Hermione had been reading...
Author's Notes: Many thanks to lovely lovely drachenmina
for a very swift beta. Trust me to come back from hiatus with a fic pairing no one likes – start as you mean to go on, eh? :)
It had seemed like a sensible idea for the trio to flat share, post-Hogwarts, post-final-battle. Only as friends, of course, just as they’d always been. Ron sometimes wished there was a bit more going on, at least between himself and Hermione, but Hermione (in Ron’s private opinion) could freeze the fires of hell and he didn't fancy getting turned into an ice statue. They were Just Good Friends, and that was fine. Fine. Really fine. As fine as it possibly could be.
It was Thursday evening, and Harry was out practising Quidditch. Ron had considered trying to cook something, decided to wait for Harry (who could actually make things without forgetting about them or rendering them inedible, which made his cooking a distinct improvement on Ron’s), and was mooching about the sitting room, failing to settle to anything. Hermione, not unusually, was curled up on the sofa, nose-deep in a book and oblivious to the world. Or so Ron thought, until she spoke aloud.
“Oh, that’s ridiculous!” Hermione lifted said nose out of the book to look at Ron, who decided that probably meant an answer was required.
“I mean, listen to this,” she continued.
“What?” said Ron, again.
,” said Hermione impatiently. “Listen.”
She read out a section of writing so sexually explicit that Ron found himself blushing. He tried a defence - just out of principle, of course.
“Well, you know, people do read porn, Hermione. It might not be your sort of thing, but -”
“I know that,” Hermione interrupted. “That’s not the point.”
“It’s not? Erm, what is the point, then?” asked Ron, leaning over the back of the sofa to look down dubiously at the book in Hermione’s hands.
“It’s anatomically impossible
,” Hermione said. “I mean, unless she’s going out with an octopus, which would make it quite a different sort of story.” Ron took a moment to wonder how Hermione knew about such stories, and decided he didn’t want to know. She continued, “How can he possibly have one hand ‘massaging her gorgeous fat titties’, another ‘flicking her dyed blonde locks with the roots of brown out of her sultry, long-lashed grey-blue eyes’ and still have a third one to ‘open up the roaring gap between her legs’? Quite apart from the fact that the prose is almost unreadable.”
“I think you’re…” Ron had been about to say ‘missing the point’ but decided that in some things discretion was the better part of valour.
“Come here,” she ordered.
Obediently, Ron did as he was told, sliding round the sofa and sitting next to Hermione. She put the book down; Ron couldn’t help but think that was an ominous sign.
“Now look,” said Hermione briskly, “you’ve got one hand on my breasts, yes?”
“Oh, come on
, Ron,” she said, grabbing one of his hands and planting it squarely on her left breast.
“Um…” said Ron for a third time.
“And you’ve got another hand in my hair,” Hermione continued, moving his other hand to her head. “So please tell me how you could possibly have a hand ‘opening up my roaring gap’?” She added, “And by the way, no woman would ever appreciate having her vagina described like that, so please don’t. Honestly, it makes the word ‘cunt’ sound almost lyrical.”
Ron decided he had wandered into an alternate universe. Hermione just wasn’t the sort of person who said ‘cunt’, and certainly not at 6pm on a Thursday evening.
“I move a hand?” he suggested, deciding that it was definitely worth taking advantage of the current situation.
He moved the hand from her hair, experimentally, bringing it down under the waistband of her skirt and into her knickers.
“Yes, but - ” Hermione was in the process of saying, but she was cut off by Ron rubbing his fingers experimentally along her… well, since it seemed to be the word of the day, along her cunt
“Mmm-hmm… Mmm.” The last “mmm” from Hermione was of a different nature to the first, and she wriggled a little bit away from Ron. “Ron Weasley,” she said, her voice a tone or so higher in pitch than was usual, “how did you
get so good at this?”
That was somewhat unanswerable, but Ron had a gradually building warm feeling inside him that suggested it wasn’t a bad thing to be asked. To get away from actually having to say anything, he made the choice to go for the kill and to snog Hermione while he might be able to get away with it. A slight miscalculation meant that to start with he missed her lips, catching her somewhere between the nose and the cheekbone, but Hermione seemed unperturbed by the attempt, turning her head obligingly so that her mouth met his.
Ron realised, with a shot of depression, that this was a dream. Clearly this was a dream. He should’ve known, really, from the first: after all, how likely was it that (a) Hermione would be reading porn, (b) she would encourage him to ‘act it out with her’ and (c) that she would then apparently enjoy
Ron touching her? On the other hand, as this was likely to be his best chance of getting anywhere with her, he might as well make the most of it. It was, after all, a pretty good dream.
“The book described another scene,” said Hermione, breathlessly, a few minutes later. “It said…” - for a second she reached for the book, but apparently decided better of it - “well, to paraphrase it,” (Hermione, Ron thought in a glow of happiness, was the only person who would use the word ‘paraphrase’ in the middle of sex, even in her dream-version,) “it said that if I were to do this…” She pushed Ron’s shirt up and buried her head against his chest, sucking and nibbling with a tentative air of exploration on his nipples.
“Urg,” said Ron, discovering that his nipples had a one-way connection leading straight to his cock.
“Yes,” said Ron hastily, as Hermione went to pull away. “I mean - very yes!”
Hermione made what sounded like a happy humming noise, and Ron felt the vibrations right through him. Or, rather, right through certain parts
“Also,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest, “it said that I should 'worship at the shrine of your manhood'.”
That was enough to bring Ron back to the present moment. “Huh?”
“I think it meant” - there was a teasing note in Hermione's voice - “that I should do this...”
She wriggled further down his body and, undoing his trousers, gave a quick tug to them and his underpants until they lay unromantically around his knees. Thinking this was perhaps not the best place for them, Ron assisted her by squirming out of them altogether. He was rewarded by – oh bugger, this really was a dream – Hermione placing her mouth around his cock and sucking on it.
“Fuck me!” Ron said, the words slipping out accidentally.
Hermione licked her way up to the tip of his cock and then, smiling, said “I think that comes later – and possibly the other way around, although I have
been reading about strap-ons lately...”
Before Ron had time to wonder what books on earth Hermione's nose had been buried in, she had resumed her ministrations with her mouth and his prick, which frankly took precedence. Hermione appeared to be under the impression that his cock was an ice-cream, and was swirling it round in her mouth in an absolutely fabulous...
“Uuuhhhhhhhhhhh.” Ron came. He hadn't intended to, not when there might have been masses of other glorious possibilities to act out with Hermione before he woke up, but with Hermione doing just – that – he... Well, yes. That. There was a space of time in which Ron might either have been flying to the moon or have had no body at all apart from a cock, and then suddenly he was back to earth and realising that he was on the sofa in the flat, with Hermione kneeling between his legs.
Hermione raised her face, and it was covered in his come, and Ron felt that he ought to think that was a bit disgusting, but actually it was one of the hottest things he'd seen in a long time, possibly ever.
“Sorry,” he apologised, reaching down for his pants and dabbing incompetently at Hermione's face. “I mean, er...”
“You mean ‘my turn’,” Hermione said helpfully, and whilst that hadn’t precisely been the words Ron had intended, he was at least bright enough to catch their drift.
“Um, yeah!” he said enthusiastically.
Ron had quite enjoyed having his fingers inside Hermione the first time, and frankly it wasn’t precisely a hardship to consider doing it again, especially when he felt like he could probably conquer the whole bloody world right now, not just get off with the most gorgeous witch he knew. He tried a kiss again on his way over, getting an unexpected taste of his own come (which again wasn’t as weird and dodgy as he might’ve expected), and a most encouraging response from Hermione. Then he was exploring Hermione’s lower depths (Ron tried not to recall the ‘roaring gap’ phrase, as it was almost enough to put him off) and and and…
And that would be Harry, Apparating into the middle of the sitting room.
Ron jerked his hand out of Hermione’s underwear so quickly that he distinctly heard something rip. So, it seemed, had Harry.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Harry asked, evidently trying to conceal a grin.
“No… I mean, well, yes… I mean… er…” Ron looked helplessly at Hermione.
“Actually,” Hermione said brightly, “you’re just in time to help us.”
Harry took an involuntary step backwards. “Um, it didn’t look like you were involved in an activity meant for three.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “I’ve discovered all sorts of fascinating stories involving three people. It’s amazing what the human body can do - not to mention the human imagination. Though I have to say I find Muggles more imaginative when it comes to sex than wizards and witches. The wizarding world seems to rely far too heavily on magic.”
Ron, glancing at Harry, was grateful to see that his friend looked no better equipped to deal with this conversation than he had been. He also discovered, rather to his surprise, that he rather liked the plan. Ron had never really been into blokes all that much (well, except for the crush on Victor Krum, and Ron didn’t like to think about that, considering that Hermione had got a lot further with the guy than he had), but actually Harry was… well, quite fit
. Especially all sweaty after Quidditch training. And he had a cock, and - well, as Hermione might have put it, the possibilities were endless.
“Ri-ight,” Harry said slowly.
“Take off your clothes,” Hermione instructed him briskly, “and come over here. I think we’re going to need you.”
It said a lot for Hermione’s strength of mind, Ron thought absently, that Harry did exactly as he was told. All the same, Ron was quite interested to find out what might happen. With Hermione in this sort of mood, Merlin knew what was going to go on next…