Nipples
Title: Nipples
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione, brief mentions of Ginny/Harry and Hermione/Ron
Rating: Probably somewhere between PG-13 and R
Word Count: 983
Disclaimer: Thank you to JKR for providing these wonderful characters for me to play with.
Summary: When Hermione found out she was going to be sharing a bed with Ginny for most of the summer, she figured she'd get to know her friend a little more intimately. But she didn't mean this sort of intimacy.
Notes: Takes place the summer after HBP.
Hermione heard a groan as she crawled into bed. This didn’t surprise her as much as it would most other nights, since she was sharing a bed for most of the summer with Ginny at the Burrow. Nevertheless, she figured she should make sure that her bunkmate was all right.
“I’m fine,” Ginny said with a terseness that somewhat frightened Hermione.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Ginny replied, and an awkward silence fell over the room. “I always moan like that when someone accidentally rubs against my nipples crawling into bed.”
“Oh my goodness,” Hermione gasped, her face beet red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind.” Hermione couldn’t help but notice that her friend’s face didn’t carry the same reddish hue. “I just wish that if you were going to do that, you’d finish the job.”
This was either the most glorious thing or the most hideous thing about Ginevra Weasley, depending on one’s point of view. She did not embarrass easily, at least now that she was no longer twelve, and she could be as blunt as she wanted to be without thinking twice.
“Finish the job?” Hermione asked in a whisper that was equal parts confusion and fear.
“You know…” Ginny relied as she made a universally recognized gesture involving her tongue waggling between outstretched fingers.
Hermione’s face by this point felt redder than Ginny’s hair, and she buried her face in her pillow - whether it was to hide her blushing or stifle her laughter, she didn’t know.
“Sorry if I embarrassed you,” Ginny said once they regained their composure.
“It’s okay, you didn’t.”
“Really?” she asked, the skepticism dripping from her voice, letting Hermione know that the blushing and head-burying did not effectively hide her embarrassment.
“Well, yes, you did, but it was funny.”
“You thought it was funny?” The skepticism remained.
“I have a sense of humor,” Hermione replied indignantly, sitting straight up and slamming her fists into the mattress.
“Clearly,” Ginny replied with an eyeroll that thankfully went unnoticed by Hermione. “I’m just a little on edge right now.”
“On edge?”
By way of response, Ginny simply groped one of her own breasts, gently flicking her nipple through the thin camisole she was wearing, and plastered a devilish smirk on her face. “’Cause of Harry. He suddenly kisses me in front of the entire house, practically the moment I’ve been waiting for since I set foot at Hogwarts. And then Dumbledore dies, and the next thing I know, we’re standing out by the lake and he’s breaking up with me. And I know that any day now he’s going to randomly show up at our door, and he’ll either whisk me up in his arms and everything will be glorious, or he won’t, we’ll stay broken up, and I’ll have to pretend that I don’t want to jump his bones all summer.”
Hermione smiled. “I know how you feel.”
“What?”
“Your brother,” she replied. Then with a groan, she added, “Ronald…”
“Oh yeah. Well, he’s always been the prattiest of the lot I think.”
“Seriously. I’ve liked him since our third year, and Harry’s noticed, you’ve noticed, everyone’s noticed, but Ron - he’s just completely oblivious most of the time.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, he’s a prat.”
“Well, he might be an oblivious prat, but if I didn’t think he’d go into conniptions, I’d march down the hall and snog the life out of him right now.”
The girls cackled for a few moments, then Hermione rolled away from Ginny, figuring it was time to sleep. She was still giggling to herself as she did so, but she noticed that Ginny’s laughter had stopped suddenly the moment she’d turned away. When she turned her head back toward Ginny to make sure she was all right, her jaw dropped, and she stared, her mouth remaining agape for longer than was polite, as Ginny peeled off her camisole, revealing her small pert breasts.
Generally speaking, this was not terribly unusual. Hermione learned fairly quickly that Ginny had few qualms about stripping off in front of her friends. She’d idly wondered whether this was confidence gained from showering after Quidditch practice, or simply a habit she’d learned dealing with the lack of privacy in the Hogwarts dormitories, but it wasn’t the sort of question one asked in the course of normal conversation. Seeing Ginny’s breasts was not new for Hermione, although that night Ginny had chosen to remain facing away from her as she stood in front of the dresser changing into her pajamas, so Hermione was treated to a view of Ginny’s perfectly shaped and toned arse instead.
So it was not necessarily unusual that Ginny removed her camisole as Hermione watched. No, what was unusual was that Ginny was doing it in bed. It was unusual that Hermione’s eyes were immediately drawn to the bare breasts, where she noticed her pink nipples standing at attention. And perhaps most unusual was that Hermione’s careful study of Ginny’s topless form was causing her own nipples to react in much the same way.
As these thoughts ran through Hermione’s head, she realized why Ginny’s laughter had stopped, and why she was now sitting before her with an inviting look on her face - and an even more inviting state of undress.
“I grazed them again, didn’t I?”
“Mm-hmm,” Ginny groaned through bitten lip.
Without warning, Hermione gently pushed Ginny back against the wall and lunged at her neck, the kiss resulting in a moan that was the sweetest music Hermione had ever heard. She knew immediately that if their bodies allowed it, she would listen to that music the whole night through. When Ginny could take the kisses no more, she nudged Hermione away and whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Finishing the job,” she replied, stripping her own shirt off, praying that Ginny accepted the invitation.
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione, brief mentions of Ginny/Harry and Hermione/Ron
Rating: Probably somewhere between PG-13 and R
Word Count: 983
Disclaimer: Thank you to JKR for providing these wonderful characters for me to play with.
Summary: When Hermione found out she was going to be sharing a bed with Ginny for most of the summer, she figured she'd get to know her friend a little more intimately. But she didn't mean this sort of intimacy.
Notes: Takes place the summer after HBP.
Hermione heard a groan as she crawled into bed. This didn’t surprise her as much as it would most other nights, since she was sharing a bed for most of the summer with Ginny at the Burrow. Nevertheless, she figured she should make sure that her bunkmate was all right.
“I’m fine,” Ginny said with a terseness that somewhat frightened Hermione.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Ginny replied, and an awkward silence fell over the room. “I always moan like that when someone accidentally rubs against my nipples crawling into bed.”
“Oh my goodness,” Hermione gasped, her face beet red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind.” Hermione couldn’t help but notice that her friend’s face didn’t carry the same reddish hue. “I just wish that if you were going to do that, you’d finish the job.”
This was either the most glorious thing or the most hideous thing about Ginevra Weasley, depending on one’s point of view. She did not embarrass easily, at least now that she was no longer twelve, and she could be as blunt as she wanted to be without thinking twice.
“Finish the job?” Hermione asked in a whisper that was equal parts confusion and fear.
“You know…” Ginny relied as she made a universally recognized gesture involving her tongue waggling between outstretched fingers.
Hermione’s face by this point felt redder than Ginny’s hair, and she buried her face in her pillow - whether it was to hide her blushing or stifle her laughter, she didn’t know.
“Sorry if I embarrassed you,” Ginny said once they regained their composure.
“It’s okay, you didn’t.”
“Really?” she asked, the skepticism dripping from her voice, letting Hermione know that the blushing and head-burying did not effectively hide her embarrassment.
“Well, yes, you did, but it was funny.”
“You thought it was funny?” The skepticism remained.
“I have a sense of humor,” Hermione replied indignantly, sitting straight up and slamming her fists into the mattress.
“Clearly,” Ginny replied with an eyeroll that thankfully went unnoticed by Hermione. “I’m just a little on edge right now.”
“On edge?”
By way of response, Ginny simply groped one of her own breasts, gently flicking her nipple through the thin camisole she was wearing, and plastered a devilish smirk on her face. “’Cause of Harry. He suddenly kisses me in front of the entire house, practically the moment I’ve been waiting for since I set foot at Hogwarts. And then Dumbledore dies, and the next thing I know, we’re standing out by the lake and he’s breaking up with me. And I know that any day now he’s going to randomly show up at our door, and he’ll either whisk me up in his arms and everything will be glorious, or he won’t, we’ll stay broken up, and I’ll have to pretend that I don’t want to jump his bones all summer.”
Hermione smiled. “I know how you feel.”
“What?”
“Your brother,” she replied. Then with a groan, she added, “Ronald…”
“Oh yeah. Well, he’s always been the prattiest of the lot I think.”
“Seriously. I’ve liked him since our third year, and Harry’s noticed, you’ve noticed, everyone’s noticed, but Ron - he’s just completely oblivious most of the time.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, he’s a prat.”
“Well, he might be an oblivious prat, but if I didn’t think he’d go into conniptions, I’d march down the hall and snog the life out of him right now.”
The girls cackled for a few moments, then Hermione rolled away from Ginny, figuring it was time to sleep. She was still giggling to herself as she did so, but she noticed that Ginny’s laughter had stopped suddenly the moment she’d turned away. When she turned her head back toward Ginny to make sure she was all right, her jaw dropped, and she stared, her mouth remaining agape for longer than was polite, as Ginny peeled off her camisole, revealing her small pert breasts.
Generally speaking, this was not terribly unusual. Hermione learned fairly quickly that Ginny had few qualms about stripping off in front of her friends. She’d idly wondered whether this was confidence gained from showering after Quidditch practice, or simply a habit she’d learned dealing with the lack of privacy in the Hogwarts dormitories, but it wasn’t the sort of question one asked in the course of normal conversation. Seeing Ginny’s breasts was not new for Hermione, although that night Ginny had chosen to remain facing away from her as she stood in front of the dresser changing into her pajamas, so Hermione was treated to a view of Ginny’s perfectly shaped and toned arse instead.
So it was not necessarily unusual that Ginny removed her camisole as Hermione watched. No, what was unusual was that Ginny was doing it in bed. It was unusual that Hermione’s eyes were immediately drawn to the bare breasts, where she noticed her pink nipples standing at attention. And perhaps most unusual was that Hermione’s careful study of Ginny’s topless form was causing her own nipples to react in much the same way.
As these thoughts ran through Hermione’s head, she realized why Ginny’s laughter had stopped, and why she was now sitting before her with an inviting look on her face - and an even more inviting state of undress.
“I grazed them again, didn’t I?”
“Mm-hmm,” Ginny groaned through bitten lip.
Without warning, Hermione gently pushed Ginny back against the wall and lunged at her neck, the kiss resulting in a moan that was the sweetest music Hermione had ever heard. She knew immediately that if their bodies allowed it, she would listen to that music the whole night through. When Ginny could take the kisses no more, she nudged Hermione away and whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Finishing the job,” she replied, stripping her own shirt off, praying that Ginny accepted the invitation.