A/N:So the other day I posted a short drabble called "Heat," which was written for a prompt on tumblr. Well, I probably should have waited and posted it with these as well, but I'm known to make rash decisions. :P Anyway, here are eight relatively unrelated drabbles about various types of kisses, not in chronological order and of various lengths. They all fit into the FAL universe - and it should be pretty obvious as to where, haha - but can obviously be enjoyed separately. The first was written for justwanttogethere, the second, fourth, and seventh were written for emmawatsonisnotfuckingaround, the third and eighth were written for bitternovembersoul/coyotelaughingsoftly, and the fifth and sixth were written for an anonymous user. :)
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling has better things to do than write drabbles about Ron and Hermione kissing. Though really, I'd pay her large sums of money if she would.
Forceful Kiss.
"Look, I fucked up, and I'm sorry!" Ron shouted, flinging his arms around in exasperation."I should have told you!"
Hermione folded her arms over her chest and glared at him."I know you are, but that's not the point, Ron! The point is that I was worried sick about you, and all because you decided I didn't need to know your plans for the evening!"
"We've been over this, Hermione!" Ron groaned, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I went out for a drink with the blokes after work. It happened, and it shouldn't be this big of a deal!"
"I thought you were going to be here more than two hours ago!" Hermione shrieked. "How am I supposed to trust you, Ron, when you don't tell me where you've gone off to?"
"Oh, so now you don't trust me?" Ron bellowed incredulously. "For fuck's sake, Hermione, the only reason I didn't mention it to you is because I knew you'd go bloody mental over me drinking on a weeknight."
"I'm only going mental," she retorted mockingly, "because you didn't tell me! I'm sitting here, wondering if you've got yourself hurt or worse, and you're off at some pub getting pissed! I had to find out from Ginny where you'd gone, and that's because Harry had the good sense to tell her!"
"I said that I'm sorry!" Ron yelled. "I really am. I don't want you thinking that I didn't tell you because I wanted to…I dunno, mess around or anything."
"Well, of course," Hermione replied, lowering her voice to a slightly more reasonable level. "I know that, Ron, I do trust you, but it doesn't change the fact-"
"I'd do it over if I could," Ron interrupted. "I only wanted to avoid a row, and clearly that didn't work."
"But I wouldn't have been angry in the first place if you'd just told me the truth!" Hermione pointed out wearily. "We're in a relationship now, Ron; we can't be keeping secrets from each other, no matter how small they are."
"I know," Ron sighed. "I'm sorry, I really am. It won't happen again."
"Good," Hermione said shortly. "I forgive you. Your dinner will have gone cold by now, but you're welcome to heat it up a bit in the oven," she finished, gesturing toward the bowl of spaghetti on the table.
"You made me dinner?" Ron asked softly, his guilty conscious weighing on him just a little heavier.
"Yes, I did. I thought you might like something to eat, after work," Hermione replied in a clipped, cold tone as she turned to make her way toward the bedroom.
Ron groaned miserably, rubbing his eyes and wishing, not for the first time, that life came with a redo option. "Why are you even with me?" he asked, speaking before the full impact of his words could register in his brain.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione turned back around, frowning slightly.
"You could do so much better, you know," Ron laughed humorlessly, gesturing at the air around him as though he were surround by suitable bachelors. "Somebody that doesn't make stupid mistakes all the time, somebody you can trust-"
"I do trust you, Ron," Hermione cut in, her voice a bit gentler now, taking a few tentative steps toward him. "I was just angry, I didn't mean-"
"Somebody like Harry, y'know? Somebody that's not going to piss you off every other day-"
But then he was cut off by a pair of lips pressing insistently against his mouth. Hermione was kissing him harder and more forcefully than she ever had before, quite possibly bruising his lips in the process, though he wasn't about to complain. Her hands gripped his face roughly, and he reached blindly for her waist to pull her closer.
"How many times have I told you," she positively growled when they broke apart a moment later, "that I don't want anybody else?"
"Yeah, but-"
"And I'm never going to want anybody else," Hermione continued in a very serious voice. "You shoot yourself in the foot, Ron, when you belittle yourself like this! I'm angry that you didn't tell me where you were, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop loving you!"
"I know, Hermione, it's just…you made me dinner," he said helplessly.
She frowned. "What's that got to do with-"
"I don't fucking deserve you," Ron said emphatically, shaking his head slowly.
Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "See, this is what I'm talking about! Everybody makes mistakes, Ron, Merlin knows I have, but you - you beat yourself up about it for so long, long after the rest of us have forgiven you!"
"You're too good to me," Ron groaned, tightening his embrace in the hopes of distracting her, but she wasn't having it.
"And you're too good to me!" Hermione insisted fiercely as she pounded her fists once against his chest. "But neither of us has ever been perfect, so stop doubting yourself for being human, Ron."
Unsure how else to properly convey what he was feeling for her, what he'd always felt for her, Ron simply kissed her. He applied a little less pressure than she had, but it lacked nothing in intensity. "I love you," he breathed when they broke apart.
"And I love you," she repeated, leaning in to kiss him fiercely one more time. "And don't you forget it," she added, before she turned on her heel and walked back toward the bedroom. "Your dinner's only getting colder," she called over her shoulder, as though she could sense him gaping at her back.
"Hermione," he called just before she turned out of the hallway.
She paused for a moment before turning her face toward him. "Yes?"
"We're okay, yeah?" he asked, meeting her eyes meaningfully.
She twisted her mouth wryly into an almost-smile. "I'm still a bit upset," she said honestly, "but I imagine I'll have cooled off by the time you've finished eating."
Then, she shot him a look that was….well, sultry, as she flickered her eyes up and down his body, offering a quick wink before she retreated into the bedroom. A wink. Hermione had just…winked. At him.
Chuckling incredulously as he made his way toward the kitchen table, ready to shove the cold noodles in his mouth as quickly as possible, he supposed there was at least one good thing about rowing - the make-up sex was bound to be fantastic.
Eyelid Kiss.
"Hey."
Hermione glanced up from her book to see Ron, standing in the doorway of Ginny's bedroom looking quite nervous. "Hi," she replied uncertainly.
"Mum says lunch is almost ready," Ron told her shortly.
"Okay," Hermione said with a small smile, placing a marker in her book and setting it neatly on the bedside table. She made to follow Ron out the door, but she had barely crossed the threshold when he swiveled back around to face her.
"I'm sorry about last night," he said suddenly. "That I was pissed, I mean. It's just-"
"It's fine," Hermione said automatically. It had been Fred's funeral, after all; she couldn't blame Ron for overindulging just a bit. It had been the most drunk she'd ever seen him, but really, it hadn't been so bad; he had been much less obnoxious than Lee Jordan, for instance.
"I don't…I mean, I remember most of it, but I didn't know if I'd done anything…y'know, regrettable," he stammered awkwardly, bringing a hand up to nervously mess with his hair.
"Oh," Hermione said, unable to mask her surprise. She thought he'd have remembered, after the way he treated her this morning…but maybe she was just imagining things. "Nothing I think you ought to regret, no," she told him carefully.
"Oh," Ron repeated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, I do remember some things. One thing in particular, anyway, that I know I didn't regret. As long as you didn't, anyway."
"And what's that?" Hermione asked breathlessly, remembering the way his lips had felt pressed against hers the night before. Was it her imagination, or was he drawing closer to her?
"Well, it was something…like…"
Yes, he was definitely drawing closer; he was very close now, so close she could see the freckles on his eyelids, which were now closed…oh yes, closed; she allowed her eyes to flutter shut as well as she waited, hardly daring to breathe as his lips came ever closer…
…Until they came to rest. On her closed eyelid. They pressed there for only a moment before Ron jumped back, as if scalded. "I'm sorry!" he nearly shouted. "I'm sorry; you're really short, you know, I didn't realize…"
Hermione couldn't help but laugh softly as Ron continued to stammer; deciding it was about time to put him out of his misery, she stepped up to him, braced her hands on his shoulders, and hopped up onto her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.
"You're wonderful," she said with a smile when she pulled back and returned to sure footing.
A slow grin spread across Ron's temporarily stunned face; and then, he reached out to grip her waist and pull her into him. This time, when he leaned down to kiss her, she had to admit that he did it more than properly.
Stomach Kiss.
Pregnant. Ron wasn't sure he'd quite wrapped his head around it yet, even after their happy tears had led to hugging, which had led to one hell of a kiss, which had led to where they were now - in bed, clothes forgotten, celebrating the life they'd created by reenacting how they'd managed it in the first place.
Hermione moaned in protest as he pulled his mouth away from hers, but he quickly reattached his lips to her neck, and she sighed and threaded her fingers through his hair in appreciation. Content to take his time tonight, he kissed his way down her body, lingering a bit longer over her breasts, until he reached her stomach. He pulled back a bit then, taking a deep breath before tracing his fingers slowly over her soft skin. There was a baby in there - a tiny person, equal parts him and Hermione, growing inside of her. He lowered his head to place a kiss just above her belly button. His lips were almost reverent as they brushed her skin, as though they, too, were aware of the miracle that was occurring just beneath them.
Ron swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat (wasn't it the women that were supposed to get overly emotional during pregnancy?) and pressed one more kiss to Hermione's stomach before working his way back up, stopping once he could properly look into her eyes, which had grown teary once again.
"Quit it," he protested half-heartedly, pressing another kiss to the corner of her left eye, out of which a single tear had leaked.
"I can't help it," she retorted, with no real malice in her voice. Her hands slid from his hair to tenderly rub his back.
"I know," Ron breathed on half of a laugh. "I can't either, and that's why you've got to stop it."
"You're allowed to be emotional, you know," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, a bit of amusement in her tone. "We are having a baby, after all."
An almost involuntary grin spread across Ron's face at her words, and he leaned in to kiss her soundly on the mouth. "But can you imagine what my brothers would say if they found out I'd cried during a shag?" he murmured against her lips.
"Mm. Let's not talk about your brothers right now," Hermione suggested cheekily before capturing his lips once again. Ron smiled into the kiss, and all thoughts were wiped from his mind, so that he might focus solely to making love to the most important woman in the world, Hermione Weasley, his amazing wife, and now - if he could dare to believe it - the mother of their unborn child.
Upside-Down Kiss.
"May I ask what you're doing?" Hermione asked, clearly amused.
"Lying down, if that's alright with you," Ron retorted, keeping his eyes clamped shut in an unsuccessful attempt to fall asleep immediately.
"And your head is at the foot of our bed because?" Hermione asked, the hint of a laugh in her tone.
Ron opened one eye to see his wife staring down at him with raised eyebrows, just as he'd suspected. Her position standing at the foot of the bed made her face appear to be upside-down, a sight that caused him to snort lightly in amusement.
"Too tired to turn around," he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut once again. "Work is shit."
"Rough day?"
"Shit day."
"Want to talk about it?"
"No. Talking is shit."
There was a beat of silence, and then, Ron felt Hermione's lips press against his, but it felt different than it ever had before - she was still upside-down, and the familiar sensation of her kiss felt strangely backwards...but very nice, he decided almost immediately. He could feel her nose brushing against his chin, and his nose seemed to be pressed somewhere along her neck, though he didn't dare open his eyes to check. He briefly wondered whether he could try for some tongue in this position, but quickly decided it would be decidedly un-sexy to slobber all over her.
"I guess we're sleeping down here, then," she murmured against his lips a moment later. As she moved one of their pillows down to the foot of the bed and crawled in next to him, transfiguring their other pillow into a quilt to draw around themselves, Ron was quite certain that so long as Hermione was around, things would never be complete shit.
Neck Kiss.
"What do you think?" Ron asked his wife, wrapping his arms around her from behind and smiling as she leaned back against him.
"What do I think about what?" Hermione replied, bringing her hands up to rest on his and squeezing lightly.
Ron leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder. "D'you think we did good?" he reiterated, nodding his head forward toward their back garden, where an auburn-haired little girl was chasing a skinny toddler with bright orange hair and shouting out threats to tickle him. Both children were screeching with glee as they ran around in the grass, the boy dragging a stuffed bunny rabbit behind him as he went. A moment later, the girl caught up to the boy and tackled him lightly to the ground, each of them giggling wildly as they playfully poked and prodded at each other.
"Yes," Hermione said softly. "Yes, I think we did very well."
Chuckling with amusement, Ron brought a hand up to shift her wild hair away from her neck and pressed a quick kiss to the newly revealed skin. "Have I mentioned that I'm mad for you?" he murmured against her skin as he kissed her once again, this time closer to her jaw line.
Hermione laughed happily. "A few times," she said, twisting around in his arms to kiss him firmly on the mouth, just as she had exactly twelve years previously. They broke apart then, smiling so widely their cheeks might start to hurt if they kept at it. Ron took care to memorize the moment - his wife in his arms, her eyes shining, his children laughing merrily in the background - and he reflected that it was the simple, relaxing, contented moments like these that made everything they'd gone through to get here so completely worthwhile.
And then there's tongue.
She wasn't really sure how she'd ended up in this position. One moment, she and Ron had been walking hand-in-hand back toward the Burrow after a pleasant evening walk and conversation. The next, she had found herself pressed up against a wide tree trunk, being kissed like there was no tomorrow.
Hermione had always been an avid learner, and her latest lesson had been that being in a relationship with Ron Weasley involved a lot of kissing. She supposed she ought to have known as much, given his previous romantic experience, but this was…different. For one thing, they did surface every now and then to have the meaningful chats they needed - especially now, given everything that had happened. For another…well, Hermione was pretty sure that their brand of kissing was far more intense than anything either of them had done before. There was a difference, she supposed, between marathon snogging sessions and kisses with some emotion behind them, and she and Ron seemed to be sharing a lot of the latter - often in the context of the former. A perfect combination, really.
There were many kinds of kisses, too, Hermione had discovered. Ron and Lavender had seemed to keep exclusively to sloppy, face-eating kisses, while Hermione had never ventured much beyond chaste pecks with Viktor. But now, with each other, there were sweet kisses, fierce kisses, short kisses, long kisses…and somehow, they were all perfect in their own way. Hermione was quite sure she'd never get tired of kissing Ron, no matter how she did it. It was the feel of his lips covering hers, his hands on her waist or wrapped around her torso, her hands on his face, or in his hair, or against his chest…
And then, his tongue slipped into her mouth, and every rational thought was wiped clear from Hermione's mind as she let out a moan and focused on kissing him back with every ounce of passion and love she felt for him. Eventually, they'd make it back to the Burrow, but until then…well, Hermione was going to enjoy every second.
"Intimate" Kiss.
Hermione was still breathing heavily as Ron began to trail kisses back up her body; she was hardly aware of anything as he reached the column of her neck and eventually pressed his lips back to hers - but those lips had just been…and had she screamed?
"So you liked that, then?" Ron murmured against her cheek; she could practically feel his smirk.
"Shut it," Hermione scolded, swatting at his arm, which was wrapped securely around her stomach. "I still can't believe you wanted to do…that."
"Well, why not? It was fucking hot.I mean, you always are, but that was something else entirely, let me tell you."
"Oh, stop it," she muttered as they shifted so that he was lying on his side next to her.
"Can't," Ron said cheerfully, leaning in and kissing her softly again. "I love you, you know."
"I know," Hermione replied, unable to keep a joyful laugh out of her voice. "I love you, too."
"And I'm going to do that again and again and again, so you best get used to it," he added matter-of-factly.
"Well, I certainly won't object," Hermione replied in her best attempt at a flirtatious voice.
"Knew you liked it," Ron said, the self-satisfied smirk more pronounced than ever. Hermione decided very quickly that it was about time to wipe it off; in fact, she knew just the way to rile him up. Rolling over so that she was hovering on top of him now, she pressed a kiss to his lips before trailing her way down, just as he had fifteen minutes previously. She smiled against his chest as she felt his breath catch; all was fair in love and war, and it was about time she returned the favor.
Underwater Kiss.
Hermione squealed girlishly as Ron chased her down the sandy beach, away from her chuckling parents. Mum and Dad had decided to return to Australia on holiday this year; they really had liked it, though not quite enough to call it home. Hermione had been incredibly pleased when they had asked her to come along with Ron; she had been excited to spend a week away with her boyfriend and her parents, of course, but it was more than just that. She hadn't really got to appreciate the country the last time she'd visited, two and a half years previously; there had been more pressing matters to attend to at the time. But this time, with her parents and Ron happy and whole at her side, had been very nearly perfect, and today had been the best of all.
The sun was shining, warm and bright, and the foursome had decided to spend the day lying on the beach. But of course, Ron had other plans - Hermione had just finished the first chapter of the novel she'd brought along when he'd pried it from her hands and begun to tickle her sides. Naturally, she'd done the dignified, mature thing and run away, flailing her arms and squealing with glee.
But he was much faster than her, even when he was trying to be a gentleman about it, and soon, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her stomach, bare in her two-piece swimsuit. She laughed merrily as he squeezed her sides again; she turned round to look in his eyes, which bore a mischievous glint. She didn't have time to run away now; she merely shrieked as he hoisted her up over his shoulder, almost as though she were weightless, and began to walk hastily toward the water.
Ron apparently had no sympathy for her; he merely patted her bum consolingly as he waded into the ocean. The tips of her fingers and toes skimmed it as they went deeper and deeper - perhaps it wasn't as chilly as it looked, she reflected; in fact, the cool water felt rather nice against her sun-kissed skin. But she'd barely had the time to make that observation before Ron had quickly and unceremoniously dunked her into the water.
She emerged seconds later, gasping for air and shivering from the shock of being completely immersed. Well, she certainly wasn't going to stand for that, Hermione thought with a scowl; standing on her tiptoes, she began to splash him in earnest, moving her arms as quickly as she could to move the water in his direction. He shouted in protest, but he was smiling in a way that told her he was ready to return the favor in a heartbeat. Determined not to let him win, she dunked herself under the water of her own accord, knowing she would be able to stay under much longer now that she was beginning to grow acclimated to the temperature.
But she was underwater for barely a second before she felt something firm pressing against her lips. There was no mistaking the source of it, because she'd committed those lips to memory years ago - Ron. She tried to kiss him back on reflex, shifting her head to the side a bit as she usually did, but kissing underwater apparently led to a lack of coordination, and their noses bumped together almost painfully. Hermione inhaled sharply, and the unpleasant sensation of water filling her nose reminded her that they were, in fact, underwater. So she began to kick upward, hitting Ron's legs a few times in the process, and they surfaced together. Ron's lips were still touching hers as they clung to each other, laughing hysterically from some combination of amusement, exhilaration, and love.
Sometimes, one had to search for the good things in life, like trying to find the silver lining to a particularly dark cloud. The last time they'd been to Australia had been one of those times - in Ron's words, it had been complete shit. But other times, things fell perfectly into place, and there was so much happiness that one didn't quite know what to do with it all. And in these sorts of times, Hermione reflected as she moved to kiss Ron properly, life was really fucking beautiful.
A/N: Because even Hermione can appreciate a good swear, so long as her pristine reputation is upheld. :) Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you thought!