Fic: The Trouble with Splinching That" (Ron/Hermione, Adult)
Title: The Trouble with Splinching That Pairing: Ron/Hermione, with others Rating: Adult Words: 1525 Warning: Threesome in which one couple is married A/N: I posted this in my own LJ/IJ but hadn't posted it to any comms. This is from a moderately cracked-out epilogue theory of mine.
The Trouble with Splinching That
It's a simple enough arrangement, and Ron doesn't exactly mind it, in principle. Well, no, he does, he minds a hell of a lot letting his wife fuck other men, but it was kind of partly his idea, sort of, and it's okay. He's okay with the outcome and the reason and such. But this time, it's bothering him quite a lot more than last time, which doesn't really make that much sense. It isn't as if they ever see the man socially, so unlike with Neville, there won't be any weird awkward learning to get along again.
Of course, with Neville, he was present, because that was better for Neville.
Neville doesn't like girls, and, well, Ron doesn't like boys, not like that, so it was a little weird, but a couple of shots of firewhisky took care of their nerves, and honestly it wasn't as though there hadn't been times, over the years, when Muffling Charms failed and curtains gapped open and whatnot, so it wasn't that hard to watch Neville slide his cock into Hermione. Sort of.
This time is different. He crosses the room in front of the couch and goes back, then starts again.
Stupid Splinching. He'd really rather they made babies all by themselves. Hermione says there's a different way to do this, a Muggle way, but Ron can't quite stand the concept of her going to some sterile cold clinic, and besides, it's expensive, and besides even that, there's nothing wrong with mixed blood, not at all, but Hermione's Muggle-born, and the odds of a non-magical child, in their very magical family, would be high, and it would just be hard. Not that it couldn’t happen anyway. They could have a Squib, just like anyone else, but it just seems a bad idea to court that.
And no wizard is going to go squirting into a cup for this.
Well. One wizard; Ron was willing to try it (which, for the record, was the most bizarre part of this entire endeavor and honestly, it had been just as well Hermione was in the little room with him to remind him not to Tergeo the cup), but they said the odds of success, given the damage he'd done the second time he Splinched (and who the hell managed to Splinch that, anyway?), were minute.
Damn it.
So they talked about alternatives. One was adopting, and they were basically willing; it wasn't as though Teddy was the only child orphaned. However, something Hermione said early in the conversation stuck with Ron. Her parents' memories had been irretrievable and they were well in Australia, but that meant she was effectively without any blood kin, and it bothered her. In the end, he was unable to deny her having children of her own blood. Even if they weren't his.
The list of men she was willing to fuck--and she called it that deliberately because it was just mechanical, purposeful, and not about love or really, even, fun--wasn't all that long, and finally they'd talked to Neville to see if he even would.
He didn't mind, though he told Ron he ought to just stay right there, both to provide something interesting to look at--no offense, Hermione--and because he didn't know a bloody thing about making it at least not awful for a girl, so.
They all got naked together and Neville and Hermione fucked every couple of days for a week one month, and then another when she wasn't pregnant yet, and that was the end of that.
Mostly.
Though Hermione smiled when she suggested they name Rosie for Neville's hybrid hobby. Not Augusta or Alice--too obvious--but Rose was innocuous enough.
But now, well, it's not Neville upstairs, and this time it's not exactly that he's unwelcome in the room, but he'd be a distraction. Or they would be. Or something.
He decides to focus on the positive. Rosie is beautiful, and smart, and has her mother's eyes, though her hair is tamer, smoother, lighter--all of which is from Neville. She's also placid in a way Ron doesn't understand very well, but considering she's saying her letters and has a vocabulary that already exceeds the best Vincent Crabbe ever did, he doesn’t think it's a lack of intellect. This one will surely be smart too, and probably bloody athletic, but not so calm. Which is fine.
He sits down on the couch, because pacing is getting old, and tries not to hear muffled sounds. He should put up a Muffling charm. He shouldn’t be listening. He shouldn’t be imagining Hermione with her legs spread wide, her heels digging into the mattress, her breasts jutting up toward him.
He shouldn’t be getting hard thinking about watching her get fucked.
He shouldn’t be imagining the dark bush of hair and thick hard cock, wet from her body, pushing into her. He shouldn’t be remembering watching her encouraging Neville as her narrow waist arched up toward him. He shouldn’t be imagining how this isn't like Neville. This time, it's a man who likes women, who has been photographed with dozens of them over the years. He's probably a better lover than Ron is. He's probably more skilled at getting a woman to gasp and moan--is that a moan now? It's hard to tell, and he shouldn’t be listening. This is a man who's going to make his wife writhe and come, maker her shudder and flutter around his cock, make her sweat.
He shouldn’t be sitting on the couch in his sitting room which his hand down the front of his pants, his fist wrapped around his half-hard cock, considering whether he can hear enough from here, or whether he should go up the stairs and listen from the landing, listen to broken English and heavy deep chuckles and the breathy little moans Hermione makes when she's close.
He shouldn't be going up the stairs.
He shouldn’t be straining to hear.
He shouldn’t be thinking about what if Krum's on his back, Hermione riding him, her hair loose down her back.
He shouldn't be thinking about her exhausted and sated and still lifting her hips to fuck up onto his thick cock.
He shouldn’t be biting his lip and squeezing himself, fully hard, thinking about Krum on his knees behind her on the bed, thrusting into her, gripping her pretty arse with his thumbs and long fingers.
He shouldn’t be wondering whether Krum will find out how much she likes it when a finger goes up her arse.
He shouldn't be pushing the door ajar to look, to see she is, indeed, on her hands and knees, rocking back onto a cock every bit as wide and dark as Ron's imagination has guessed.
He shouldn’t be surprised when they notice.
"Come in," Krum tells him. "Come in, and help, as I fuck your vife."
Ron freezes in the doorway, but Hermione looks at him and nods, and he's being stupid. Krum pulls out of her to lie on his back next to her, and Ron can see she's dripping wet, her arms shaking, but she straddles Krum and looks over her shoulder at Ron. "Join us?" She sinks down onto his cock again, and Ron lets his trousers fall to the floor, then crawls up behind her.
She rests on Krum's chest, both of them flexing slightly until Ron's in place, and then he's pressing the head of his cock into her arsehole, and if she likes a finger in there, she likes a second cock even better. Her hole is slick from her own fluids, and while they've never done exactly this before, it's tight and hot and her whimpers are the kind that Ron knows mean she's going to come blindingly hard soon. He pushes in further, gasping as he realizes he can feel the change in pressure inside her as Krum's cock pushes and pulls.
When she comes, she says words she never uses, and Krum says something in Bulgarian, and Ron can't help himself, spurting inside her arse. He slumps forward, trying not to crush her, kissing her hair. "Good?"
"Fuck," she mumbles succinctly. Krum chuckles underneath her, and Ron pushes his way up and eases out of her, then flops down next to the two of them, still joined. Hermione's hair is stuck to her all over, and Krum is grinning at him.
He supposes if he can't quite do this on his own, this isn't a bad alternative. He waits for his breathing to calm, then says, "So. Wednesday?"
Krum nods. "I vill have punctual."
Hermione rolls off him and lands between them. "If you're not, maybe we'll start without you. You can join us when you get here.
Krum nods. "I understand." He stands and pulls on his trousers to go. "I am think, to say, is good time, but is odd to say, for this. Still, is good time. I am see self out."
Hermione turns and snuggles up against Ron and closes her eyes, and Ron pulls up the blanket over them. "See you Wednesday."