#hermione kisses ron

[toorumlk]

this could’ve been them after the slugclub christmas party had they gone together *sighs*

(redraw of a romione art from last year)

[thepetitegoose]

i saw this post a couple months ago (credits go to @goldenromione) and i obviously screenshot it because i love both romione and the cranberries and i just now have the urge to spew my thoughts on it

hermione like HAD to have resonated with that album (everybody else is doing it, so why can’t we?) because there’s no way you’re telling me there’s both sunday AND linger on it like my girl was going throughhhh it just look at these lyrics

every time she saw ron and lavender snogging at least one of these lyrics (you can probably put more, these are just a few that stuck out)

side note these two are so irritating like bro you guys could’ve been together so many times already you both were pining for one another in the first place JUST GET ON WITH ITTTTTTTT

[maybebitterxox]

Rarry fic from Hermione’s POV where she watches Ron being utterly whipped while Harry remains comically oblivious and she secretly tries to help push them together from the sidelines over the course of 7 years

And she nearly cries out of utter frustration with her two dumbass idiot shithead best friends multiple times because they’re so in love with each other but they’re both so fucking stupid and she’s the only one with any common sense

[wafflinglumos]

Hermione Granger is canonically a lightweight and that is absolutely hilarious to me

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

Romione kiss - 1813 edition

From the most recent update to my Regency Muggle AU, The Pride of Burrough House: chapter 23. I love writing Romione kisses and wanted to share this one.

.

“You’re full of odd questions today,” he remarked curiously.

When she didn’t respond, he decided, “No, I take that back — ” He sent her a sly look. “You’re full of odd questions every day — Hey!”

He laughed as she swatted him with her book.

“Now listen here, miss — ” 

Hermione wasn’t expecting it, and the book slipped from her fingers easily when Ron grabbed it, rolling away from her and rising to his knees

“ — that’s no way to treat — ” He paused, appraising the cover. “Now this one I haven’t seen before.

“Pride and Prejudice,” he recited as though reading aloud in class. His eyes glinted wickedly. “Is it about you?”

“Oh!” She lunged, but he was too fast for her, jumping to his feet and tucking it behind his back.

“It’s about a girl who meets a very rude boy,” she informed him pointedly, rising herself and brushing off her skirts. “Now give it here.”

Ron evaded her once again by lifting it high above his own head, feigning indignation. “Well, ask me nicely!”

She huffed. 

“Mr Weasley,” she goaded, saccharine and affectedly courteous, “might I please have my book back?”

She punctuated her request by sticking out her tongue.

His laugh was the sort you couldn’t hear but could see, and he obliged her. When she grasped the small tome, though, her fingers closed over his and he didn’t let go, not right away.

Not for the first time she noticed that something about standing so close to him, face-to-face, set her nerves jangling — something inscrutable between them that made it hard to breathe, and not just because they were still breathless from their play.

Perhaps it was because they’d been so deliberately avoiding talking about it, instead talking in circles around it. Perhaps it was because they’d quietly refused to give it a name, that it grew impatient and decided to declare itself. 

Whatever the reason, Ron decided to see about something, and Hermione decided to let him. She knew what was going to happen almost the moment the idea formed in his mind, just by his little intake of breath. Even so, at the first (somewhat inartful) clasp of their lips against one another, Hermione inhaled sharply. The book tumbled, abandoned, to the ground.

Ron’s face was flushed when he pulled away, and shyer than she’d ever seen him. He struggled to find his voice, and Hermione realised she couldn’t bear to hear him say he was sorry. Because she wasn’t, not at all.

Hermione solved that problem by kissing him again. She saw his clear blue eyes go wide, saw his hands gesture awkwardly at his sides, afraid in that second to do anything with them. Finally, when her hands rested at his shoulders, his came up to softly frame her face.

Hermione had always thought she was too sensible for this sort of thing. That maybe someday there’d be someone, because that was a nice thought, in its way; but not yet, when she still had so much to learn and do.

The trouble was, from that moment on, every minute of every day, Hermione wanted very little else than to be kissing Ron Weasley.

[romionarry]

i love hermione and her beautiful beautiful coping mechanisms

[monkshooded]

So sick of the "independent and feisty" hermione characterisation... this is a woman who smells her crush in love potions, sees him in magical mirrors of desire, calms down at his scent, and threatens to kill him if he even considers divorce

[whinlatter]

That’s how she feels, early Monday, third week of September 1998, listening to a little Muggle man murmur to her on the airwaves: at sea. Like there’s a great wave brewing, swelling on the horizon. It’s not yet broken, but the threat is there – like, soon, it’ll crash against the seashore, rise up, swallow the harbour whole.

🪶 read the author’s note for this chapter

🐾 listen to the playlist

🦉 thoughts & questions? ask me anything!

[blackione]

romione kiss + happy harry <3

[the-sun-is-also-a-star]

Drarry prompt : Physical touch as their love language :)

So this may be like...2 years late. I have no excuses. I am so sorry. I hope you like this lmao, i haven't written for drarry in literal ages. It's short and cute and I wrote it in less than half an hour if im being honest.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Touch was special to Harry.

At first it was terrible, coming from a household where every touch was violent and love was rare.

Hogwarts changed that.

Ron would throw his arm over his shoulder after a quidditch match and Hermione would fall asleep on his shoulder while they studied late. It was odd, but soon it became as easy as breathing.

Soon touch became the way Harry communicate. He'd lightly shove Seamus with his shoulder and press his knee to Luna's when he'd sit on the floor with her to listen to her daily rants. He'd kiss Hermione's forehead before she left a room and tug on Ron's clothes to get his attention. He'd make sure that he was always touching someone at some point.

Harry Potter was not a boy who was shown a lot of love through touch, but he expressed it oh so generously.

When Draco and Harry became hesitant friends in 8th year, Harry was nervous.

The war had not ruined his affinity for physical touch as a means of comfort, in fact, it may have exacerbated it.

But Harry did not know if Draco liked to be touched and with a friendship so rocky, he wasn't willing to risk it.

But like all things with Draco, everything just sort of clicked.

When they sat together for lunch in the great hall (a fact that made Harry giddy with joy for some reason?) he found Draco sitting close enough that their arms pressed together.

When they sat next to each other in class, Draco's leg would be close enough to brush against his every now and then.

When they sat on the couches in the 8th year common room, all of their friends sitting together, squashed up on the couches, Draco and him would sprawl all over each other, limbs entangled and unbearbly comfortable.

All in all, Harry loved it.

It was when they started dating that it all came to a crux.

It was their first year out of Hogwarts, and with Draco begining his time consuming journey of training to become a potions master, a relationship was the last thing that you would assume could work out.

But they made it work, they always do.

Harry didn't care that Draco had odd hours because he had to sometimes check on potions at weird times in the night, he didn't care that sometimes Draco would spend entire afternoons reading on potions textbook or the other, he didn't care that sometimes Draco had to cancel plans last minute because his mentor was an utter ass and had Draco running at his beck and call.

It should have bothered him, especially as early as it was into their relationship as it was, but it didn't.

He didn't care becauss when Draco got back from his odd hours he would always kiss the crown of Harry's head, and get back into bed, going back to spooning him like he never left. He

didn't care because when Draco spent entire afternoons reading, he always did it on the couch next to Harry, his legs curled up next to him and his body leaning into his, and afterwards he would kiss Harry and thank him for being so patient with him. He didn't care because everytime before he got back from his mentor he would kiss Harry on the cheek, and hug him, tightly, promising that as soon as his internship was done he would never cancel plans again because he knew how important stability was for Harry.

Harry was never that good with expressing how he felt, but he loved Draco Malfoy, and he expressed that very clearly. He expressed it in the way he linked their pinkys together. He expressed it the way he hugged Draco from behind when he made coffee in the morning. He expressed it in the way he swung their hands when they walked anywhere.

And Draco loved him, oh how Draco loved him.

Draco loved him in the way he let Harry bury his face in his neck when he was cold. Draco loved him in the way he put his arm around Harry's chair when they went to pub nights with their friends. Draco love him in the way he pulled him close when they were dancing. Draco loved him.

Touch was everything to Harry, it was how he loved and how he wanted to be loved.

And oh, how he was loved.

[toorumlk]

Question, has Ron ever stabbed Hermione's eye with his nose while they were kissing?

lmao probably! they were 18/19 year olds making out after 7 years of pent up feelings, many an eye was poked

[i-gave-all-my-stds-to-charity]

Just saw Daddy Issues The Play™️

[captain-lessship]

Where We Once Were Pt. 5

You walked through the hall, looking for her to tell her that you had told Draco about the two of you and that while he wasn’t happy about it, he would support you the best he could, which mainly was not ratting you out to his parents.

You walked into the library and saw her, you smiled as you walked to her. You tapped her shoulder and she looked at you, shock on her face.

“What happened to your hair?” She asked, reach up to touch it.

Worried that she didn’t like it, you looked down, “I cut and colored it. Do you like it?”

She stared at it. There once was brown curls that you always kept back away from your face. But she would have to had lied to say that she wasn’t obsessed  with the now light wispy relaxed waves, dyed with blonde highlights fell slightly down your neck but stopped at the collar of your shirt. You looked happier in your eyes. 

“I love it! It’s so soft!” She threaded her fingers in it. 

You smiled widely, “I knew you would. I didn’t want to cut all of it, I just needed to get the majority of the length off.”

“It suits you!” He eyes went down slightly.

“What’s wrong?” You picked up on it immediately.

“Don’t be mad,” she began, “but I might’ve, accidentally, told Harry about… us.” She began rambling, “Then Harry told Ron, Ron told Neville, Neville told Ginny, Ginny-“

“Hermione.”

“Ginny told Seamus, Seamus told Pavarti-“

“Hermione, I told Draco.” 

She stopped, “so you aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be mad at you for something I did?” 

“When did you tell him?”

“Last night, he helped with my hair. He talked me into highlights instead of low lights.” 

Hermione stared at you for a moment, “Does this mean?”

“I think it does.” You smiled, knowing exactly what she meant.

In front of the window, the cold crystals of snow fell gracefully as you grabbed her hand. She leaned up and forward and you leaned down, lips gently joining in your first kiss.

That week, you two were inseparable. Young love as Professor McGonagall said. It wasn’t new to see the two of you holding hands or to see your arm draped across her shoulders, talking about nothing and everything. 

It stayed like this til the day she had been upset about. The Execution of Buckbeak. You promised to be with her, you stood in the door way and watched her for a moment, it was going to be soon. You walked to her and her friends, gently tapping on her shoulder. She turned to you and you immediately opened your arms. She fell into them. You held her for a moment til you felt another person join the hug, then another. 

You never thought you’d be group hugging with Harry and Ron but you weren’t going to tell them to shove off. 

“Ah! Scabbers!” Ron shouted out, “he bit me!” 

He immediately dropped the rat and it scurried away, causing the four of you to chase him.

[potentialbreakupscng]

❛ Tell me if I'm bothering you. ❜ { Ron to Hermione } - @semperfcrtis

"Bothering me?" she looks up from her book with her brow pressed together, "Why would you be bothering me? I'm just reading. I am capable of multi-tasking."

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

Romione kiss - post-war edition

Excerpt from Kiss Each Other Clean

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At last, she wiped away the last few smudges from his cheeks and neck.

“You can see your face again,” she pronounced in approval. One hand curled itself around the back of his neck and the other brushed against his day-old stubble.

“Aside from this, anyway,” she added with a little smile which he returned.

And there they were, eyes locked in breathtaking contentment, a sense of tranquillity that had no right to be there, and her hand was still cupping his neck, and when had his finger started stroking her hip like that?

It was slow, satisfyingly slow; she tilted up and he leaned in, with a patience she usually lacked and a sureness he was not known for. And when they paused a half a breath apart, it wasn’t because they were hesitant, but precisely because they weren’t.

There was no adrenaline-fuelled impulse; no urgency; no desperation. There were no catcalls; no clever commentary. No silent outpouring of everything I ever needed to tell you but never did.

There was only you and me and you don’t need to tell me because I know. There was only the sound of water as it finally ran clean off their bodies. There was only impossible comfort and safety.

It was a languid caress of the lips, a flutter of eyelashes, a flick of the tongue here and there as they held one another with feather-light fingertips. He broke away just long enough to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose before coming right back for more. They paused, foreheads resting together, just for the pleasure of starting all over again.

It was an untroubled thing that carried the promise of many more, erasing all worry that there never would be.

Maybe, then — maybe it was meant to be like this. Maybe there was simply no more room for doubt or nerves between them.

Maybe the desire was in the knowing — the familiarity — not the mystery.

After all, it always had been.

[hzry]

The Lip-Lock Jinx: 20.4k

It's a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It's just Harry's luck that he's in love with Draco. HPDM, one-shot, eighth year.