Look What You Made Me Do

This erotic story excerpt by accio-broom from Look What You Made Me Do was originally published by Archive of Our Own and is the Good Sex Awards Winner of the Readers' Choice Category.

Best Sex in Fan Fiction

Ron and Hermione have agreed to test the new Adult range from Weasley Wizard Wheezes. When he hands her a pair of knickers that morning, she unknowingly lets herself in for a morning of fun.

Hermione Granger pressed her legs together and clutched the edge of her seat. She was sitting in the bustling Ministry cafeteria, trying to enjoy her lunch with Harry and Ron, when the sudden sensation took over her. A short gasp escaped her lips before she’d even realised what was happening.

Lifting her head, she glanced at her boyfriend. If he knew what was going on, he was acting nonchalant about it. He looked completely normal, using one hand to lift a sandwich to his mouth as he discussed his new mission with Harry. The other hand was somewhere under the table, probably on top of his bouncing knee. Hermione might have scolded him for the habit if she wasn’t otherwise distracted.

Hermione had felt the first buzz of pleasure during an important meeting with the Minister of Magic that morning. The shock disappeared just as quickly as it had started, and luckily, it seemed Kingsley hadn’t noticed. A tight clench of her quill helped her to keep her outward appearance completely neutral, despite the knot of tension clenching in the bottom of her belly.

Ron and Harry’s conversation died down as Robards stalked past their table. The cafeteria was busier than usual, full of their colleagues and friends. A strong scent of curry filled her nostrils, quelling her passion only momentarily.

And then it happened again.

“You okay, Hermione?” Ron shifted his attention to her, distracted by her whimpers.

“Yeah, I just realised I need to go. Uhm, important meeting.”

Before either boy had a chance to question her, Hermione collected her things and hurried towards the cafeteria loos, barely getting the door locked behind her before the next wave crashed over her body. Her toes curled in her smart court shoes, and she bit hard on her arm to prevent a loud moan reverberating around the cubicle.

The sensation was unbearable, and she yearned to do something about it, desperate for some sort of friction to ease the ache. Her fingers itched to slide beneath her wool skirt, to seek out that tiny bundle of nerves that would alleviate her frustration, but she resisted. There was no way her career would survive being caught fingering herself in a Ministry bathroom.

The pulses of pleasure continued, merging into one continuous assault, almost driving Hermione to the edge. Her muscles tightened, and she braced herself against the toilet wall, ready for her orgasm to take control, but the feeling of relief she was now desperate for never came.

⁂

It was those fucking knickers; she just knew it.

Ever since Ron came back from the pub a month or so ago, the tips of his ears burning bright pink and an almost bashful look on his face, Hermione knew she would regret the day she agreed to help out.

“George is creating an adult line of Weasley Wizard Wheezes,” her boyfriend said, pleasure lighting up his eyes. “He needs people to test his products, and he only trusts a handful of us.”

At first, Hermione had been adamant that it wasn’t for her, but seeing the excitement on his face (and how hard his cock had grown as he discussed toys and lubricant), she had eventually decided to say yes. How awful could it be?

She was about to find out.

Whilst getting changed that morning, Ron had handed her a seemingly innocent pair of knickers.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Of course I trust you, love.”

Hermione had been rushing. If she had been paying more attention, she would have thought his question was a little bit odd and that the wicked smile on his face indicated that maybe she trusted him a little too much.

⁂

Hermione left the cubicle, grateful that the loos were still empty.

“I will kill him!” she exclaimed as the waves of pleasure started to subside.

“That’s the spirit, my love,” a nosey mirror said in response.

Hermione took in her appearance. Her nipples strained against her white blouse, and her hair was surging with electricity and doing its best to break free from its tight bun.

She splashed her red face with water, willing herself to calm down before casting a quick cleaning charm on herself, just in case. As soon as she slipped her wand back into her bag, another jolt coursed through her body, and she let out a frustrated growl.

There was only one way to get what she needed.

Pulling her bag onto her shoulder, she left the bathroom with her head held high, trying her best to ignore the now almost continual assault against her clit. Her journey across the atrium felt like a marathon, the pleasure waning and waxing as she moved. Each jolt pushed her closer to the edge without rewarding her with that elusive orgasm. By the time she escaped from the elevator and locked herself in her office, she could barely stand.

“Jesus, this is a nightmare,” she told the empty room as she rifled through her planner.

Hermione said a small thanks for circumstance as she clutched hold of her desk, her knuckles turning white with effort as her knees threatened to buckle. Her secretary, Felicity, was out for the rest of the day but had cleared Hermione’s diary so that she could focus on her report on Goblin Working Rights. Hermione sat down before she found herself on the floor and crossed her legs, her hands shaking as she dug out an internal memo and scribbled a quick note.

The moments ticked by as Hermione waited for a response. She got up, then sat back down again before flicking through her report, looking for anything that might distract her from her growing need to come.

If she didn’t find release soon, she would have to take matters into her own hands.

Finally, there was a short rap on the door. Hermione listened, counting her breaths until she got to seven, and she heard the second rap. She pushed herself up from her seat and pulled open the door.

“Ronald Weasley, you are in a fuck load of trouble.”

She was grateful that her boyfriend was on the other side of the door and not some poor Ministry worker. She reached for the collar of his Auror robes, pulling him into her office before anyone else could see.

His cheeks were red, and a light sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He must have run to Hermione as soon as he received the note. His wand was in his hand, and as soon as she laid eyes on it, Ron twisted it, muttering a quiet charm and grinning as she immediately let out a groan.

“You sent me a memo, Miss Granger?” He stepped further into the room, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “It sounded pretty urgent. What could you need an experienced Auror for?”

“I just…” Hermione backed away from the door until her legs hit her desk, her hands still on his robes, pulling him with her. She was breathless, her words replaced with an almost feral growl from the back of her throat. Her hands slid to his belt buckle, nimble fingers making quick work out of it. “I just need to come so badly.”

She sought out his lips, but Ron wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he moved his mouth to her neck and started to kiss against her skin, taking his sweet time. It was agonising, and Hermione let out an impatient huff. He edged his way from the collar of her blouse to her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

“I need to hear you beg for it.”

“Please,” she whimpered as she freed his cock, wrapping her hands around it and stroking it. “Please, Ron, make me come.”

In one swift movement, Ron lifted her onto the desk. Usually, she would joke about how smooth he was acting, but she was too far gone for that. Every inch of her skin burned for him. She was desperate to be kissed, to be fucked, but instead, he continued to tease her, pushing a finger past those damned knickers to slide along her folds.

“Bloody hell, you’re so wet.”

Hermione moaned in response. She loved it when he spoke like this, so dirty and far from her usual prim and proper expectations. Ron loved to swear, loved to tease her with the words she usually chastised him for using. He loved it even more when she swore in return.

He pulled her tights and panties down in one pull and threw them aside with her heels before dropping his head between her legs and running his tongue along her.

“Fuck, Ron!” She wanted to lock her legs around his shoulders, to hold his head there until she got what she needed from him, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She needed more.

Lacing her finger into his hair, Hermione pulled Ron into a hungry kiss, not allowing him to tease her any further. As her tongue battled against his, she tasted herself, and it only served to drive her crazier.

“Now,” she groaned into the kiss as he pushed down his boxers and trousers, letting them pool around his ankles.

“Bossy witch.” Ron smirked as he took his wand once more, and the moment seemed to pause as Hermione watched him cast all the charms he now knew by heart, locking the door, silencing the room, and sorting out their contraception.

Finally, Ron gave her what she’d been craving all day, her back arching towards him as he thrust into her. His cock rubbed against the tender spot inside her, and she lifted her hips to his.

“You gonna come for me then?” His thumb found her clit, and he rubbed circles around it. “I bet you’ve been desperate for me all day. Sat in your meetings, imagining my cock deep inside you.”

He gripped her hips and changed the angle of his thrusts. She swore, then dropped her head to his shoulder, reeling at the sensations threatening to push her over the edge.

“Oh, Merlin. Fuck! Yes, I’m coming, Ron!” she cried out as the tension that had been building all day snapped.

He didn’t stop his thrusts, not even willing to give her a chance to come down as her second orgasm came chasing after the first—harder and louder. The feel of her inner walls clenching around him and the sound of her cries must have gotten too much to bear, as he finally started to tremble on top of her.

Starting to slow down, Ron pulled Hermione into a sitting position, his hands sliding up her back. They glided against her sweat-soaked shirt and into her damp curls as he pressed his lips to hers. Winding down together was always the best part of their sex, hands caressing each other and lips whispering words of love.

It didn’t matter how passionate or hard their sex got or how much they teased each other—they always ensured they ended it with care and comfort.

She collapsed into his chest as she fought to catch her breath, looking up to admire Ron through long eyelashes. When she finally spoke, her voice was husky and low.

“I guess you better tell George the knickers were a success.” She smirked. “You owe me, Ron Weasley.”

Ron pulled away from her, letting her lie back against her desk as he chuckled. He located his wand under her desk and removed the spell on her knickers. Finally, he moved back to Hermione, casting a cleaning spell on the both of them. Once he’d fastened his trousers and straightened out his robes, he leaned over her and pressed a hard but loving kiss against her lips.

“You’re welcome, my love.”

With one last kiss and a smirk, Hermione was left alone in her office. Although she knew she should focus on the report for the rest of the afternoon, it was going to be tough, even without her magic knickers.

 

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Accio-broom is a mid-30’s civil servant from South Wales, who turned to writing fanfiction to help deal with the pandemic. In her downtime (when restrictions allow), she plays Roller Derby, crochets and is a mother to two cats – Luna and Ginny.

Find out more: Author website