(no subject)
Title: Wand and Bone
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 1893
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: If you have mental or emotional issues with seeing a physician, please don't read this. It's a bit ... creepy. (that's a great promo, isn't it?)
A/N or Prompt: This has no redeeming value whatsoever.
For my One Year LJ Anniversary prompts, both amieam and jocap asked for R/Hr, and since neither of you provided a prompt, this is what you get.
Unbetaed.
~^~
It was after normal office hours when Ron and Hermione entered the office.
“I just need to collect these parchments, then we can leave. …Hermione?” Ron called.
“I’m back here,” she called, with an intentional luring tone of voice.
Ron entered the tiny examining room from the reception area and she came out from behind the dressing-screen wearing only a very chartreuse cotton patient’s gown.
“What are you doing?” He gasped at the sight of her long bare legs and bust threatening to escape the flimsy covering.
“I thought maybe since I was here, I should have a visit with the Healer.”
He stammered and blushed.
“But I, I’m not your Healer.”
“I know that, Ron,” she said slightly annoyed that he wasn’t playing along more easily, but she returned to the flirty tone. “And it’s such a shame, too! I’m the one who watched you study all those years. You were so sexy when you bit the tip of your tongue while revising. And now all these witches want you for their Healer.”
Ron snorted. “Most of the witches I see are my Mum’s age. It’s not sexy, I assure you.”
“Oh come on! When did you become so boring? Examine me!”
“I am not boring!” Ron grinned at her challenge. “All right, then, Ms. Granger. But I’m warning you,” he pointed a long finger at her, “I’m a very thorough Healer.”
“I’m counting on it!” she quipped and hopped onto the table.
Ron locked the door.
“Ooh! Wait!” She stopped him. “You’re not in uniform yet.”
He shook his head. The back of his neck blazed red as he slipped on his crisp, lime-green robes bearing the crossed wand and bone Healer insignia that he’d worked so hard to earn.
“All right then, Ms. Granger,” Ron said, once he was suitably attired. “Lie back on the table, please,”
Hermione did her best to compose her blush and smile. Ron’s ability to control his facial expressions made it easier. His eyes reflected only the gentle, compassionate professionalism that he showed his patients.
Hermione leaned back, pausing on her elbows. He was standing a respectable distance from her with his hands folded together, waiting patiently for her to comply. “All the way down, please,” Ron said again.
She did as he asked, lying on her back, looking straight up at the ceiling. The sense of submission she felt sent a nerve-wracking tickling down the backs of her legs and she curled her toes. She took a deep breath, realizing how shallow she’d been breathing.
“There we go, now.”
Hermione bit her lip when Ron stepped in close, his presence looming over her, which was alternately intimidating and exciting.
“What are you going to do … Healer Weasley?” she asked, almost taunting his professional title.
“We’ll begin with the breast exam.” His voice was deep and steady, making her heart rate increase.
Ron took one of her arms and raised it over her head. He slid one hand under the opening of the garment, and the pads of his long fingertips sought the outer curve of her breast. He confidently pressed into the flesh, kneading small circles.
She glanced up at his face. He had a tiny vertical crease between his brows, and his mouth drawn tight in concentration, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Very good,” he said simply, lowering one arm and raising the other. He began the same procedure on the opposite breast, still letting the material of the gown to preserve her modesty. “Yes, very good,” he said again. “Now,” the timbre of his voice altered slightly, “I must make a visual inspection as well, you understand?”
Hermione giggled but cut it off quickly. “Oh, yes, of course.” She nodded sagely.
“Breast health is very serious, Ms. Granger,” he chided.
“Yes, yes. Very serious.”
Ron carefully opened the gown, exposing her upper body while the light sheet was still draped over her legs. It wasn’t being naked for Ron that caused any discomfiture, but having her breasts bared under the bright lights in the cool room that made her feel so … deviant.
He cupped her breast firmly then, using the fingers on his other hand to squeeze and swirl over her nipple.
“That’s the reflex I wanted to see,” Ron said, teasing his finger around and around the puckered, ruby skin.
Hermione closed her eyes, letting a high, nasal whine escape.
Ron cleared his throat and removed his hands.
“Is that all?” Hermione raised her head up, not intending to sound quite so disappointed.
“No, we’re not quite through just yet,” Ron answered with a raised brow as he moved to the end of the table by her feet. Hermione instinctively began to close the gown again.
“Oh, please,” he stopped her, “leave the gown open for me, just as it is. Thank you.”
Hermione licked her lips and lie back down again.
She stared at the decorative plaster design molded onto the ceiling and listened as Ron took a seat by her feet and levitated a silver tray of - somethings - to his side. She could have watched him, she could have spoken with him, but the silence added to the nervous thrill of anticipating his first touch.
“Okay now, bend your knees and place your feet flat by your bottom, please.” Ron’s request sounded pat and rehearsed, and made her almost ashamed for being so excited.
Almost.
“I need you to come further down the table, if you don’t mind? Scoot your bottom all the way to end.”
She huffed, thinking he was pushing this a bit far! However, she acquiesced to his instruction, inching herself towards him feeling a dash of humiliation.
Once in place, his face blocked from view by her bent knees, she heard him make a slightly unsure sounding ‘hmm.’
“Is everything alright? … Ron?”
Breaking character, he peeked around her knees, looking himself again, and whispered, “I’m not sure if I should wear gloves or not?”
“Yes! Do it properly!” she hissed, trying not to laugh.
“Okay!”
She heard the snapping sound of latex as he proceeded and then he cleared his throat.
“I’m going to touch your thigh now.” He did. “Now you’ll feel my hands on you.” His fingertips touched over her folds and then with both hands, he gently pushed and parted the outer skin.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight, feeling a flush warm her body as she was exposed.
“Let your knees fall open for me, there you go.”
They’d been intimate for years now. But always with kissing, and sliding hands, his warm body pressed against hers feeling secure and loved. Breaking their personal contact down to his hands and her sex alone was disturbingly scary and still erotic because it was Ron.
“I’m going to check your, er, body’s response to stimuli now.”
“Yes - I understand.” Her response came out in a husky whisper.
The pad of his finger stroked gently over her clit, and back again.
She gasped and clamped her legs shut.
“Easy, Ms. Granger, try to relax. Open your legs for me again, please?”
Hermione did so, feeling him press gentle pulses against her clit.
“Very nice,” he soothed. “Very, nice.”
She was gasping and resisting the urge to squirm when he suddenly removed his hands.
“Just a moment, while I prepare …” he said.
“Prepare?” she gasped, not intending to say that out loud.
He tried to suppress his own rumbling chuckle.
Hermione peeked around her knee to catch a glimpse of what he was doing and saw him working a dollop of clear lubrication around his fingers with his thumb. She snapped her head back, looking up at the ceiling again, trying to relax herself.
“Now, you’ll feel my hand again … there. And now you’ll feel some pressure, lots of pressure.”
She’d been expecting his fingers, and jumped, quite startled when something narrow and hard and wooden entered her body.
“Ron! Your wand isn’t sterile!”
“Neither is my dick, but you don’t complain about that! I wouldn’t risk your health. Now hush, this was your idea.”
Didn’t think he’d be so bloody good at it, she grumbled in her head but quickly became distracted as he manipulated the wand inside of her. She turned her head to the side, blushing. This wasn’t supposed to feel so good. She hadn’t felt a wand inside of her since - well, that was a very long time ago.
He removed the wand then, and it rattled on the tray as he set it down. Then without warning, his long fingers slid inside of her.
“Oh,” she moaned, gulping for air.
“Are you alright?” he asked, moving his hand so that his fingers surged in again.
“’Mfine. ‘mfine. Just do whatever you, need to.”
“Very well, let’s see if you have a healthy reaction to this.” Ron hooked his fingers upwards inside of her, expertly pressing on her g-spot, making her feel as if her insides had boiled and melted in an instant.
Hermione twisted and arched with voluble intake of breath. “Oh, God-ric!.”
“Yes, just ride it out.” he soothed. Ron’s voice was something between professional calm, and loving encouragement. “Won’t take very long. … Just a bit more.”
She whined and struggled for …something, as his fingers surged and pressed against the spot that sent waves of heat radiating outward and he used the thumb on his other hand to circle around and rubbing over her clit.
Hermione clamped her eyes shut, not caring about the environment anymore, consumed only by the effect those skilled fingers were producing.
“Ron! Ron!”
“Healer Weasley, if you please,” he corrected. The sound of his admonishment and the authoritive way he manipulated her body created a burst of energy and she climaxed with a stifled shriek. She shuddered and let her arching body collapse on the examining table.
“Oh, Healer Weasley!” she moaned.
“Merlin fuck!” he muttered under his breath. “I - Herm - Ms. Granger, I need to-”
“Yes! Ron, just shut up, and yes!”
She sat up with her legs dangling off the end of the table. The sheet covering her fell to the floor and he kicked it aside as he quickly pulled open the lime-green robe. His belt buckle clinked and he moved so fast she only caught a brief glimpse of ginger and pink before he placed his hand on her thighs and pressed inside.
“Ungh,” they both keened. His cock was thick and hard, he must have been aching for her. Ron began pumping his hips while Hermione slipped her hands around his waist, pulling his tightly arse into her.
“Ah, fuck, yes!” he growled into her hair, the movement rattling the examining table. Clutching her firmly, he came only a moment later.
“Godric,” he panted. “I didn’t mean to go so fast. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. That might be a problem.” Hermione snickered against his chest. “You might want to see a Healer about that.”
“Bloody hell,” he moaned pitifully, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “I’m a mad pervert, aren’t I? I should get my ugly green robe taken away for this.”
“No! You’re a good man, and an honorable Healer.” She tipped his head up and kissed his lips for the first time since they entered the room. “We could play Magical Archivist if you want, but that’s probably not as fun.”
~^~
A/N - Yeah, sorry. Did you squirm?
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 1893
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: If you have mental or emotional issues with seeing a physician, please don't read this. It's a bit ... creepy. (that's a great promo, isn't it?)
A/N or Prompt: This has no redeeming value whatsoever.
For my One Year LJ Anniversary prompts, both amieam and jocap asked for R/Hr, and since neither of you provided a prompt, this is what you get.
Unbetaed.
~^~
It was after normal office hours when Ron and Hermione entered the office.
“I just need to collect these parchments, then we can leave. …Hermione?” Ron called.
“I’m back here,” she called, with an intentional luring tone of voice.
Ron entered the tiny examining room from the reception area and she came out from behind the dressing-screen wearing only a very chartreuse cotton patient’s gown.
“What are you doing?” He gasped at the sight of her long bare legs and bust threatening to escape the flimsy covering.
“I thought maybe since I was here, I should have a visit with the Healer.”
He stammered and blushed.
“But I, I’m not your Healer.”
“I know that, Ron,” she said slightly annoyed that he wasn’t playing along more easily, but she returned to the flirty tone. “And it’s such a shame, too! I’m the one who watched you study all those years. You were so sexy when you bit the tip of your tongue while revising. And now all these witches want you for their Healer.”
Ron snorted. “Most of the witches I see are my Mum’s age. It’s not sexy, I assure you.”
“Oh come on! When did you become so boring? Examine me!”
“I am not boring!” Ron grinned at her challenge. “All right, then, Ms. Granger. But I’m warning you,” he pointed a long finger at her, “I’m a very thorough Healer.”
“I’m counting on it!” she quipped and hopped onto the table.
Ron locked the door.
“Ooh! Wait!” She stopped him. “You’re not in uniform yet.”
He shook his head. The back of his neck blazed red as he slipped on his crisp, lime-green robes bearing the crossed wand and bone Healer insignia that he’d worked so hard to earn.
“All right then, Ms. Granger,” Ron said, once he was suitably attired. “Lie back on the table, please,”
Hermione did her best to compose her blush and smile. Ron’s ability to control his facial expressions made it easier. His eyes reflected only the gentle, compassionate professionalism that he showed his patients.
Hermione leaned back, pausing on her elbows. He was standing a respectable distance from her with his hands folded together, waiting patiently for her to comply. “All the way down, please,” Ron said again.
She did as he asked, lying on her back, looking straight up at the ceiling. The sense of submission she felt sent a nerve-wracking tickling down the backs of her legs and she curled her toes. She took a deep breath, realizing how shallow she’d been breathing.
“There we go, now.”
Hermione bit her lip when Ron stepped in close, his presence looming over her, which was alternately intimidating and exciting.
“What are you going to do … Healer Weasley?” she asked, almost taunting his professional title.
“We’ll begin with the breast exam.” His voice was deep and steady, making her heart rate increase.
Ron took one of her arms and raised it over her head. He slid one hand under the opening of the garment, and the pads of his long fingertips sought the outer curve of her breast. He confidently pressed into the flesh, kneading small circles.
She glanced up at his face. He had a tiny vertical crease between his brows, and his mouth drawn tight in concentration, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Very good,” he said simply, lowering one arm and raising the other. He began the same procedure on the opposite breast, still letting the material of the gown to preserve her modesty. “Yes, very good,” he said again. “Now,” the timbre of his voice altered slightly, “I must make a visual inspection as well, you understand?”
Hermione giggled but cut it off quickly. “Oh, yes, of course.” She nodded sagely.
“Breast health is very serious, Ms. Granger,” he chided.
“Yes, yes. Very serious.”
Ron carefully opened the gown, exposing her upper body while the light sheet was still draped over her legs. It wasn’t being naked for Ron that caused any discomfiture, but having her breasts bared under the bright lights in the cool room that made her feel so … deviant.
He cupped her breast firmly then, using the fingers on his other hand to squeeze and swirl over her nipple.
“That’s the reflex I wanted to see,” Ron said, teasing his finger around and around the puckered, ruby skin.
Hermione closed her eyes, letting a high, nasal whine escape.
Ron cleared his throat and removed his hands.
“Is that all?” Hermione raised her head up, not intending to sound quite so disappointed.
“No, we’re not quite through just yet,” Ron answered with a raised brow as he moved to the end of the table by her feet. Hermione instinctively began to close the gown again.
“Oh, please,” he stopped her, “leave the gown open for me, just as it is. Thank you.”
Hermione licked her lips and lie back down again.
She stared at the decorative plaster design molded onto the ceiling and listened as Ron took a seat by her feet and levitated a silver tray of - somethings - to his side. She could have watched him, she could have spoken with him, but the silence added to the nervous thrill of anticipating his first touch.
“Okay now, bend your knees and place your feet flat by your bottom, please.” Ron’s request sounded pat and rehearsed, and made her almost ashamed for being so excited.
Almost.
“I need you to come further down the table, if you don’t mind? Scoot your bottom all the way to end.”
She huffed, thinking he was pushing this a bit far! However, she acquiesced to his instruction, inching herself towards him feeling a dash of humiliation.
Once in place, his face blocked from view by her bent knees, she heard him make a slightly unsure sounding ‘hmm.’
“Is everything alright? … Ron?”
Breaking character, he peeked around her knees, looking himself again, and whispered, “I’m not sure if I should wear gloves or not?”
“Yes! Do it properly!” she hissed, trying not to laugh.
“Okay!”
She heard the snapping sound of latex as he proceeded and then he cleared his throat.
“I’m going to touch your thigh now.” He did. “Now you’ll feel my hands on you.” His fingertips touched over her folds and then with both hands, he gently pushed and parted the outer skin.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight, feeling a flush warm her body as she was exposed.
“Let your knees fall open for me, there you go.”
They’d been intimate for years now. But always with kissing, and sliding hands, his warm body pressed against hers feeling secure and loved. Breaking their personal contact down to his hands and her sex alone was disturbingly scary and still erotic because it was Ron.
“I’m going to check your, er, body’s response to stimuli now.”
“Yes - I understand.” Her response came out in a husky whisper.
The pad of his finger stroked gently over her clit, and back again.
She gasped and clamped her legs shut.
“Easy, Ms. Granger, try to relax. Open your legs for me again, please?”
Hermione did so, feeling him press gentle pulses against her clit.
“Very nice,” he soothed. “Very, nice.”
She was gasping and resisting the urge to squirm when he suddenly removed his hands.
“Just a moment, while I prepare …” he said.
“Prepare?” she gasped, not intending to say that out loud.
He tried to suppress his own rumbling chuckle.
Hermione peeked around her knee to catch a glimpse of what he was doing and saw him working a dollop of clear lubrication around his fingers with his thumb. She snapped her head back, looking up at the ceiling again, trying to relax herself.
“Now, you’ll feel my hand again … there. And now you’ll feel some pressure, lots of pressure.”
She’d been expecting his fingers, and jumped, quite startled when something narrow and hard and wooden entered her body.
“Ron! Your wand isn’t sterile!”
“Neither is my dick, but you don’t complain about that! I wouldn’t risk your health. Now hush, this was your idea.”
Didn’t think he’d be so bloody good at it, she grumbled in her head but quickly became distracted as he manipulated the wand inside of her. She turned her head to the side, blushing. This wasn’t supposed to feel so good. She hadn’t felt a wand inside of her since - well, that was a very long time ago.
He removed the wand then, and it rattled on the tray as he set it down. Then without warning, his long fingers slid inside of her.
“Oh,” she moaned, gulping for air.
“Are you alright?” he asked, moving his hand so that his fingers surged in again.
“’Mfine. ‘mfine. Just do whatever you, need to.”
“Very well, let’s see if you have a healthy reaction to this.” Ron hooked his fingers upwards inside of her, expertly pressing on her g-spot, making her feel as if her insides had boiled and melted in an instant.
Hermione twisted and arched with voluble intake of breath. “Oh, God-ric!.”
“Yes, just ride it out.” he soothed. Ron’s voice was something between professional calm, and loving encouragement. “Won’t take very long. … Just a bit more.”
She whined and struggled for …something, as his fingers surged and pressed against the spot that sent waves of heat radiating outward and he used the thumb on his other hand to circle around and rubbing over her clit.
Hermione clamped her eyes shut, not caring about the environment anymore, consumed only by the effect those skilled fingers were producing.
“Ron! Ron!”
“Healer Weasley, if you please,” he corrected. The sound of his admonishment and the authoritive way he manipulated her body created a burst of energy and she climaxed with a stifled shriek. She shuddered and let her arching body collapse on the examining table.
“Oh, Healer Weasley!” she moaned.
“Merlin fuck!” he muttered under his breath. “I - Herm - Ms. Granger, I need to-”
“Yes! Ron, just shut up, and yes!”
She sat up with her legs dangling off the end of the table. The sheet covering her fell to the floor and he kicked it aside as he quickly pulled open the lime-green robe. His belt buckle clinked and he moved so fast she only caught a brief glimpse of ginger and pink before he placed his hand on her thighs and pressed inside.
“Ungh,” they both keened. His cock was thick and hard, he must have been aching for her. Ron began pumping his hips while Hermione slipped her hands around his waist, pulling his tightly arse into her.
“Ah, fuck, yes!” he growled into her hair, the movement rattling the examining table. Clutching her firmly, he came only a moment later.
“Godric,” he panted. “I didn’t mean to go so fast. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. That might be a problem.” Hermione snickered against his chest. “You might want to see a Healer about that.”
“Bloody hell,” he moaned pitifully, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “I’m a mad pervert, aren’t I? I should get my ugly green robe taken away for this.”
“No! You’re a good man, and an honorable Healer.” She tipped his head up and kissed his lips for the first time since they entered the room. “We could play Magical Archivist if you want, but that’s probably not as fun.”
~^~
A/N - Yeah, sorry. Did you squirm?