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cheesyficwriter · 2 years

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Gorgeous

Hi, Romione lovers! I wrote this short ficlet for the @cruelsummer-ficfest! I was given the song "Gorgeous" by Taylor Swift to use as inspo for my favorite HP couple. While the theme of the story doesn't exactly follow the song, some of the lyrics are represented through characters/lines in the fic. Also, fully expect some Ron thirst from Hermione's POV.

Thank you to the mods for hosting such a fun and creative fest. Go check out the other awesome stories already released. Hope you enjoy! ❤

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

It’s a warm, cozy early autumn evening, perfect for a small and intimate affair. Guests mingle amidst the garden, surrounded by floating candles and flower motifs. Every single witch and wizard is out of their designated seat, cheering and dancing between bursts of high energy songs as glasses of Firewhiskey and champagne are passed around in merriment.

Harry and Ginny’s wedding reception is a fabulously good time.

The newlywed couple glides around the open space with the biggest spotlight following them. Hermione glances over at Ginny, who is absolutely glowing and conveying an admirable amount of confidence and beauty as she nestles into the crook of Harry’s arm. Given all that Harry has gone through, the simplicity and privacy given to them in this moment is what he truly deserves.

Witnessing their bliss brings an ache to the forefront of Hermione’s chest. The music transitions to a slow tempo, and her thoughts drift to one particular Weasley with ginger hair and ocean blue eyes.

Ron, her best friend and boyfriend of almost five years, and the person who she couldn’t have planned Harry and Ginny’s reception without driving herself mental. She lost him somewhere in the small crowd earlier, and hasn’t seen him since the food table. Figures.

Deep inside, she’s more than comfortable with the life they have together. So blissfully happy—almost to the point of delirium—that it’s very audacious of her to crave more. That’s not to say their goals have always aligned. If anything, their relationship has been on a twisted trajectory ever since they met.

But it still poses the question. Does Ron ever picture what’s next for them? Now that Harry and Ginny are married, all eyes will likely be on Ron and Hermione, looking for the next commitment. It’s a thought she’s certainly had before, but one that never took up much space in her brain until this evening.

Why is she so motivated now? It certainly can’t be jealousy. She’s very happy for Harry and Ginny, thrilled even. But it’s not a race to the altar. It never has been. As hard as she’s tried to find a suitable justification for making this commitment, all she can work out is that there is no justification not to.

Is he waiting on her signal? She’s progressive enough to have no qualms being the one to propose to him, but she has a feeling that Ron would take pride in having that task himself.

A cluster of flobberworms flutter through Hermione’s stomach. Does she imagine growing old with him? Absolutely. She can’t imagine not having him in her life. The sheer thought of them breaking up—a hard lump works its way down her throat. She doesn’t want to ever think about that.

There is no other choice for her. There is no other person.

She almost considers gazing into the depths of one of Trelawney’s barmy crystal balls to see what the future holds for them. Ha! Almost.

A part of her is compelled to stumble on home and curl up into a ball next to Crookshanks as she continues to contemplate her life. Instead, she snags her third floating glass of champagne from the air and downs it in two gulps.

When Hermione cranes upright again after draining the contents of her glass, she finds herself gazing straight into the depths of Ron’s baby blues. Her heart pulses twice as fast, realizing that he has been watching her from afar, and all at once self-conscious over not knowing how long she has held his attention. He tilts his head, his eyes raking up and down her body, as if he’s appreciating her more than a homemade cauldron cake.

Ron’s confident, unwavering presence is a far cry from the shy, awkward boy she knew at age 11. Their unabashed intimacy into adulthood is still new to her. It certainly wasn’t instantaneous infatuation when they first met—more like instantaneous annoyance, a feeling that lasted for several weeks before they got a chance to truly get to know each other and she went on to consider Ron one of her dearest friends. She hasn’t always liked that infuriating man at all times, but she’s always loved him, even if she didn’t know it in her early years.

But is that enough to say they are ready now? Is there anything else they want to accomplish before settling down?

Hermione chuckles to herself. They’ve won a war, for Merlin’s sake. They’re both very satisfied with their career paths. They’ve had an extraordinary run as individuals before having a real chance at being a couple. And that right there is the information she needs to be secure in what she wants.

She wants to marry Ron Weasley.

As if hearing her sing his name in her thoughts, Ron breezes through the crowd in Hermione’s direction. A distinct smirk forms upon his lips, the soft candlelight illuminating the freckles on his face. Hermione analyzes his every movement, enjoying the way his rolled up dress sleeves reveal the taut muscles along his forearms. Her hunger for him is so intense, it knocks the air straight out of her lungs. She inhales a shaky breath, making a feeble attempt to alleviate her roaring sex drive.

Good luck with that.

Too late. The lust she has for her boyfriend overpowers any rational thinking right now. Her brain is not doing well in this particular situation.

Ron approaches, looping one of his thumbs through the belt of his trousers before offering the palm of his other hand. “Come and dance with me?”

Hermione grins. At least he managed to form some semblance of a question this time, instead of blurting out a demand in a hilarious effort to drag her away from Viktor Krum.

“I thought you would never ask.”

He frowns, a blush reddening his cheeks. “Really? I—”

“Relax, Ron,” she laughs, biting down on her lip as she turns her gaze down to the gold ballet flats on her feet. “I would love to.”

A rhythm of classical music flutters in the background as Ron takes her hand, leading Hermione over to the center of the crowd. Her olive green dress swishes against the ground as she walks. The air around them is warmer now, despite the cool evening. Although the many glasses of champagne pulsating through her veins may be contributing to her flushed cheeks.

Ron’s arms draw her close until their chest to chest, his breath warm against her neck. She falls into his embrace with trained ease, resting her head on his shoulder. They sway back and forth during the first few minutes of the ballad, filling the space with easy smiles and gentle touches.

It’s still amazing to Hermione that they’ve even made it this far, here, to this very moment where she feels comfortable enough showing affection for someone else, and receiving the same amount in return. The last time she danced with Ron like this—well, it was a perfect moment until their world spun into darkness and the Horcrux Hunt began.

Now it’s all over—it’s been five years, to be exact—and there’s a calmness, a sense of security, hanging in the air.

She lifts her head in amusement as Charlie Weasley swings by, guiding a giddy Professor McGonagall—a sight she thought she’d never see—around the dance floor. The tempo of the next song picks up, but not enough for swaying to be considered unusual, so she and Ron remain steady at their pace.

Ron’s hands glide slowly up and down her spine, eliciting tiny goose pimples along the expanse of his touch. He’s remained silent throughout, they both have, but as his fingers slide to trace the scar on the inside of her arm, Hermione wonders what he’s possibly thinking at this moment.

“Tell me what’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours.” Ron’s husky murmur, right next to her ear, catches her off guard. He knows her so well, and she shouldn’t be surprised that he notices her deep in thought.

For a beat, she says nothing. They continue to rock side to side, cheek to cheek, as Hermione mulls over the voices in her head screaming at her that it’s time. She can’t put off asking about their future just because she’s afraid of not having the answer she wants. Even if she specializes in making critical decisions based on raw fear.

Hermione pulls back slightly to meet Ron’s gaze, noticing his eyebrows knitted together in fierce contemplation. His long locks of ginger hair fall into his eyes, and she fights the desire to sweep them away, only mildly annoyed that Ron had ignored her request for him to cut his hair prior to the wedding.

“What do you mean?” she finally works up the courage to ask.

Ron scans her face as if he’s waiting for the glimmer of truth to shine through her eyes. “I know you’re happy for Harry and Ginny. I know you are pleased with how all of this came together with such little time to plan.”

It may seem like Ron is only stating the obvious, but it’s clear that he’s trying to rule out possible conclusions.

“That’s Harry and Ginny,” she agrees. “Always spontaneous, those two.”

He squeezes her elbow. “But…”

“But what?”

“There’s something else.”

What is she afraid of? Judgment or ridicule? She knows Ron better than that. He would never make her feel embarrassed over sharing her feelings. He may not always understand them right away, but to be fair, neither does she.

She needs to be completely honest with herself here. She needs to be completely honest with him.

“We should talk.”

Any hint of a smile on his face flashes away faster than a lightning bolt. His mouth opens, poised to respond, but she places a hand on his chest.

“No, no. It’s nothing bad, I promise. At least, I hope it’s not.”

No. Stop it, Hermione. She’s in a good place with Ron. A really, really good place. Why would she want to ruin that? All of the bells ringing in her head warn her to keep quiet.

His hand tightens in hers. They continue to sway, oblivious to the other couples nearby, but Ron’s movement stiffens. “Hermione, what’s going on?”

It’s time for a serious discussion, but is this really the right place? Judging by the defined crease between Ron’s lips, he’s decided that it is and she can’t convince him otherwise.

Before Hermione can speak, a tug on her dress redirects her attention towards the ground. Victoire, Bill and Fleur’s young daughter, beams up at her. The small girl fiddles with the ends of her long, blonde hair, pulled back into a seamless plait.

“You’re gorgeous,” Victoire says through a toothy grin, highlighting the adorable dimples on her cheeks.

Hermione’s heart pitter patters in her chest. Not just pretty. Gorgeous.

“Aren’t you a clever one?” Ron bends over, giving the part-Veela’s hair a tousle.

“Uncle Ron!” Victoire squeals, swatting his hand away. Turning back to Hermione, she offers one last parting wave before skipping off, calling over her shoulder, “Bye, Aunt ‘Mione!”

Hermione’s knees buckle, very aware that Ron’s grip on her is the only reason why she remains standing.

Aunt. She called me her Aunt.

For a young girl, it’s not surprising. When Victoire sees her Uncle Ron, Hermione is usually in tow. It’s only natural that she draws that conclusion. But still, it doesn’t stop Hermione’s heart from skipping a beat.

“She’s right, you know,” Ron murmurs, and Hermione’s head snaps to meet his gaze. The way he is looking at her, his eyes twinkling…she swallows hard, diverting her eyes to her shoes once more.

She’s right. She’s right. She’s right.

“Hey.” Ron hooks a gentle thumb under Hermione’s chin, lifting her head back up to eye level. “What are you getting insecure about?”

“I’m not.”

He raises a questionable eyebrow at that blatant lie, and Hermione’s shoulders sag in defeat. “I just—I don’t know. Maybe it’s the atmosphere. Being here, at a wedding, seeing Harry and Ginny so happy, and—Ron, it’s okay if you want to wait, or maybe our relationship isn’t what you expected…”

She’s rambling now, and Ron is gaping at her like she’s morphed into a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but she can’t seem to convey what she really means in a single sentence. She wants to shout I’m ready for you to propose, you dolt. But the way he tilts his head, a smile curling up around the edge of his lips, makes her wonder if she even has to.

Ron leans closer, brushing his nose against Hermione’s before pulling back mere inches. She can taste cinnamon from the shots of Firewhiskey he’s undoubtedly consumed this evening, his breath hot on her face.

“I would have thought it was obvious by now.” His voice drops low, as if he’s sharing a secret just for her. He grasps her hip, pulling her a fraction closer. “But in case it’s not, let me make myself very clear. I love you. I am very happy with where we are, but also, you are it for me, Hermione.”

The expression on his face is so tender and warm, she can’t believe that he’s looking at her like that. Everything he says points to you’re delusional, you barmy witch, and it’s suddenly sobering, despite her champagne-filled musings.

“Oh.”

Ron chuckles. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just,” Hermione bites her lip, shrugging a shy shoulder. “We’ve never really discussed it, and it occurred to me recently, well, maybe there’s a reason why. Maybe you weren’t sure—well, nevermind that now.”

“Are you joking?” Ron’s eyes bulge out. “I was trying not to pressure you.”

Hermione tucks a lock of delicate hair behind her ear. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that.”

The comment must please Ron, because his trademark lopsided smile turns into an all out grin. “Okay. Note taken.”

“Okay.”

And somehow he vanishes every single one of her fears in a matter of seconds, as if it is really that simple. Perhaps it is. They could have avoided a lot of frustration if they were open and honest with each other from the beginning. But still, they wouldn’t have had the chance to move apart and come back together, like they always do, over and over again.

“So…” Hermione curls her fingers around Ron’s neck as she buries her face into his chest. “Are we doing this?”

“Hold on there.” He plants a kiss into her hair before resting his chip atop her head. “Trust me.”

A rush of excitement floods her bones, receiving Ron’s hint loud and clear. Of course she trusts him. It’s the foundation of any successful relationship, and beyond their minor hiccup during the Horcrux Hunt—that definitely does not need to be addressed ever again—she’s never once questioned Ron’s loyalties. Not to Harry, and certainly not to her.

Ron spins Hermione around, pressing her back against his chest. His arms envelop her into a circle of warmth. She falls into his embrace, closing her eyes while releasing a content sigh. When his nose nuzzles her cheek, she swivels her head just enough to meet his lips, which feel impossibly soft against her own. His kiss is dizzying, all-consuming, and so Ron.

“Oi!” Harry yells, bursting through the warm glow they’ve cast around themselves. He dips Ginny in his arms. “Stop trying to steal the spotlight at my wedding, yeah?”

Ron disregards his best friend completely, intertwining his fingers with Hermione’s as he gives her a twirl. She lets out a breathless giggle, amazed at how effortlessly her boyfriend spins her around. Full of surprises, isn’t he?

“Keep dancing with me, gorgeous?”

“Always.”

#romione #Romione fanfic #Romione ficlet #Romione drabble #Ron x hermione #Ron weasley #Hermione granger #Ron Weasley x Hermione granger #wedding #minor Harry Potter x ginny weasley #cruel summer fic fest

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vilentia · 1 year

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The Cafe Romance

Ron Weasley x reader

Ron Weasley had always imagined that life after the second wizarding war would be easier. But the truth was that things were far from simple. The war had taken a toll on everyone, especially those who had fought in it. They had seen and experienced things that had changed them forever. They were now trying to adapt to a world that was no longer in a state of war, which was not an easy thing to do.

He had expected to continue dating Hermione Granger, his girlfriend since their Hogwarts days. But as they started to settle into the real world, they began to realize that their expectations of their relationship were entirely different. Ron wanted to focus on settling down, finding a job, and starting a family, whereas Hermione wanted to continue her education and pursue her career goals. Ron felt that he had already done enough fighting and wanted to focus on the quieter aspects of life, while Hermione felt that there was still work to be done to make the world a better place. Additionally, they also had different personalities and communication styles, which led to misunderstandings and arguments. They had come to an amicable decision to end their relationship.

One day, while out for a walk in the heart of London, you stumbled upon a quaint little cafe that you had never noticed before. You decided to go in and ordered a coffee, settling down at the bar to enjoy your drink.

Meanwhile, Ron was also at the cafe, sitting at the bar and staring off into space. He had been feeling lost and aimless since his breakup with Hermione and had decided to take a walk to clear his head. When he saw you walk in, he couldn't help but notice you. You were beautiful, with a bright smile and sparkling eyes that seemed to light up the room.

As you settled in, you couldn't help but notice Ron, who was sitting just a few seats away. You recognized him immediately from the many articles and pictures in the Daily Prophet. You felt a little starstruck but tried to act casual and not draw too much attention to yourself.

For a while, neither of you said anything. You were both lost in your own thoughts, sipping your drinks and staring off into space. But eventually, Ron worked up the courage to strike up a conversation with you. You started talking about the weather, but soon the conversation moved on to your interests, likes, and dislikes. You talked about everything from books to music, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

It wasn't until later that you revealed to Ron that you were a witch, something he hadn't suspected before. He was pleasantly surprised and felt even more drawn to you now that he knew you shared a similar background.

Despite the undeniable chemistry between you, Ron refused to admit that he had feelings for you. He was still trying to come to terms with his breakup with Hermione and didn't want to rush into anything new. However, the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was falling for you.

One day, while sitting at the same café where you had first met, you asked Ron what he was thinking. Ron had been feeling nervous all day, wondering how he would tell you how he felt about you. When you asked him what he was thinking, he knew that it was the perfect opportunity to finally confess his feelings.

He took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with you," he said, his voice shaking a little. He couldn't believe he had said it, but he also knew that it was the truth.

Your eyes widened, and you looked a little surprised, but also incredibly happy. You put your hand on his, and your touch sent shivers down Ron's spine. "I've been waiting for you to say that," you said, your smile reaching your eyes.

Ron's heart swelled with happiness. He couldn't believe that you felt the same way. You had been spending so much time together, getting to know each other, and it had all led to this moment.

"I know we've only been seeing each other for a short time," Ron continued, "but I can't imagine not having you in my life. You make everything feel so much better, and I can't help but feel like we were meant to meet."

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. "I feel the same way," you said. "I don't know what the future holds, but I know that I want to be with you."

Ron felt like he was on top of the world. For the first time in a long time, he felt like everything was falling into place.

From that moment on, Ron and your relationship flourished. You went on adventures, explored new places, and laughed together. Ron had always imagined that life after the second wizarding war would be easier. But he realized that it wasn't about things being easy; it was about finding the right person to got through life with. And in you, Ron had found his forever.

#ron weasley #ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fic #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley art #ron weasley x hermione granger

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voldemorts-tap-shoes · 9 months

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Sneaking in my second submission for era #5 of @cruelsummer-ficfest at the last minute!

A brief follow up to my last fic 💜

you still would’ve been mine, we would’ve been timeless

Even though the waiting room chairs at St. Mungo’s are horribly uncomfortable, and Hermione has been stuck in the same position for the past hour while Ron snoozes on her shoulder, and her mouth burns with the bitter taste of some of the worst coffee she has ever had the displeasure of consuming, there is no place else Hermione would rather be.

Home.

Her mind was made up before she even made it back to her hotel after meeting with Ron, and as soon as she got back to Sydney, she had set about making arrangements. After three weeks and a lot of Floo calls, she had a job and a flat ready to go, and she was on another plane to London. For good this time.

Harry bursts into the waiting room then, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear, and Hermione shakes Ron awake. “She’s here,” Harry announces. “Baby and Ginny are both doing great.”

“What are you going to call her?” Hermione asks as she and Ron both rise to hug Harry in congratulations.

“Lily of course, and Ginny picked Luna to be her middle name.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.”

“You couldn’t give one of your kids a name that wasn’t a mouthful?” Ron teases, earning him a sharp elbow to the side from Hermione.

Harry just laughs, and Hermione’s not sure anything could dim his happiness at the moment. “Come back and meet her.”

By the time they’re through visiting with Harry and Ginny and the new baby and are heading for the exits, it’s nearly three in the morning. “Y’know, every one of their kids was born in the middle of the night,” Ron says with a yawn. “They’re bound to be trouble.”

“Is that some superstition about children born during a witching hour?”

“Well, that and they’re Harry and Ginny’s so they’re just bound to be trouble regardless.” Ron laughs as he yawns again. “I guess I’ll take the Floo home, I think I’m too tired to Apparate.”

“My place is closer,” Hermione says, though the offer is far from selfless. The only thing that hasn’t settled itself since she returned home two months ago is where things stand with Ron, and maybe this is her chance to fix that. “You could just…crash with me.”

Although he’s been there for her throughout the whole process and they see each other nearly every day, neither of them has made any sort of move to take things to the next level. On the one hand, she appreciates Ron’s sensitivity, and his willingness to give her time and space while she settles into her new-slash-old life.

On the other, haven’t they waited long enough?

Ron smirks, a sure sign that he’s thinking exactly what she is, that their respective homes are the exact same distance via Floo—nearly instantaneous—even though Hermione’s is technically closer to the hospital. She’s about to laugh it off, tell him to get some sleep and that she’ll see him tomorrow, but then Ron reaches for her hand.

“You should know,” he says softly, “if I come with you, I have no intention of sleeping on the couch.”

Hermione squeezes his hand and leans up to whisper in his ear. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #cruel summer fic fest #harry potter #romione fanfiction #ron weasley x hermione granger

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