⟢ pairing. ron weasley x fem!reader ⟢ summary. you, oblivious as ever, hadn’t caught on to ron’s not-so-subtle signals about his feelings for you. ⟢ friends to lovers. he fell first, he fell harder. ⟢ wc. 1,8k ⟢ masterlist!
ron was someone who was obviously terrible at masking his feelings. he was so awfully bad at it, that even neville had managed to catch on; at this rate, the fat lady probably knew too; everybody seemed to know, except for the one person thick enough not to notice, the one person who he actually wanted to.
harry and hermione, who from the very start had always knew about ron’s secret, sometimes wondered how long it would take before you finally caught on. as hermione once said, “honestly, i’ve never met such a thick person as to not notice you making it so ridiculously obvious.”
and she wasn’t wrong.
it was in the way ron always saved you a seat beside him, even if it meant shoving his books across the bench or glaring at anyone who dared to sit too close. it was in the way he slid the last roast potato onto your plate at dinner, ignoring the fact that food was practically sacred to him. it was in the way he lingered by the portrait hole in the mornings, pretending to retie his shoelaces just so you wouldn’t have to walk to class alone. it was in the way he carried your books when you looked tired, muttering something about how “they weren’t heavy anyway” even as his ears turned scarlet.
every single thing he did was a miserable attempt at making his feelings known, though you never once caught on. hermione, in particular, had long abandoned subtlety; she no longer bothered with knowing looks and had moved straight into exasperated sighs and muttering under her breath whenever you missed yet another painfully obvious signal. harry, on the other hand, found the whole thing hilarious and had even roped ginny into betting on how long it would take before you finally noticed.
fred and george, of course, never missed a chance to make things worse. they teased ron mercilessly, dropping not-so-subtle comments whenever you were around or nudging him dramatically whenever you walked past. the twins, however claimed that they were doing him a favor.
“you gonna finish that toast, or are you saving it for a special someone? y/n, perhaps?” fred, who leaned over the table with a grin, snickered loudly. “shut it, fred.” ron scowled, already red in the ears.
“special someone? me? what d’you mean?” you blinked, completely stupid enough not to understand as ron choked on his roasted turkey. “oh, you know..” george suddenly chimed in, but ron cut him off quickly before he managed to utter a single word.
“don’t you dare, george,” ron warned sharply, his face turning crimson as he shoved another bite of toast into his mouth to avoid looking at you. fred raised his brows in mock innocence. “what? we were only going to say you’re his favorite study partner. right, george?”
“absolutely,” george agreed, smirking. “his very favorite. can’t stop talking about her, can you?” ron nearly dropped his goblet, choking out, “i do not!”
doing him a favour, they said. not to ron, no. but either way, ron couldn’t help but silently hoped you had caught on. he would rather die than admit his feelings to you aloud. he’d much rather you pieced it together yourself. oh, yes, that would save him the humiliation of confessing his feelings out loud.
it came to a point where hermione, already exasperated beyond belief, had enough.
“honestly ron, just tell her how you feel! or—or ask her out on a hogsmeade weekend or something—alone, this time..” hermione trailed off awkwardly recalling the last time ron had did exactly that, but didn’t quite go exactly as planned.
“i was, you know.. um.. wondering, if you’d wanna spend the day toromow—i meant, tomorrow,” he stammered, ears already turning red. he cleared his throat, fumbling over his words. “with—with me, i mean—well, if you’d like, of course! we can also go anywhere you want.” he then awkwardly fiddled with his sleeves out of nervousness; he could practically hear his heart thudding loudly in his chest.
please say yes.. oh, help me..
“of course we can,” you shrugged, smiling softly. it was then that ron froze for a moment, blinked, and stared at you in disbelief. he had thought it ought to be more difficult than this. “wait, really? you—you mean it?” his heart thumped painfully fast, and his stomach did that weird twisty thing whenever you looked at him that he couldn’t quite name.
“of course i do!” you beamed. “ooh, you can accompany me and hermione at honeydukes! we’ve been craving some chocolate frogs lately,” you added cheerfully, clasping your hands together in excitement at the thought.
what? hermione?
ron felt as though a thunder had struck him completely. his eyes were practically bulging at this point.
“but—” he sighed, deciding not to say anything. “well.. that’s fine, i suppose.. yeah. sure, brilliant idea.” he forced a smile, shoving his hands into his pockets, shifting from foot to foot, looking like a dramatic puppy pouting from disappointment.
oh, hermione didn’t want to remember that, and neither did ron, who sank onto his fluffy armchair near the fireplace in the common room as he painfully replayed the scene in his head.
“don’t—even—remind—me.” ron said, burying his face in his hands. he needn’t remember that mortifying moment; the memory alone made his ears burn. from behind, he could hear muffled, stifled laughter. “oh, shut up, harry.” he groaned, finally lowering his hands just enough to glare over at his best friend, who was trying—and failing to look innocent.
hermione, too, stifled a laugh upon seeing harry. though, she quickly recovered once she saw how serious ron actually was. “well, maybe.. this time, you can go and ask her to go to hogsmeade together again. just make sure it’s only the two of you this time.” hermione suggested, looking over towards harry, awaiting for any sign of approval.
“yeah, go get her ron.” harry urged. “d’you reckon she’d say yes?” he asked, his voice dripped with uncertainty. harry and hermione exchanged glances, before hermione spoke up. “well, i suppose she would. i mean, she has to, wouldn’t she?” ron swallowed hard.
the morning after, precisely when the whole school had gathered for breakfast, ron managed to inch his way toward your table, shoving down his nerves like they were a particularly nasty potion. he clutched his tray like it was a shield, muttering under his breath, and stole quick glances at you, trying to work up the courage to speak without turning into a complete disaster.
fred and george, conveniently seated a few tables away, were already grinning like the cat that got the cream, clearly anticipating the spectacle about to unfold. hermione shot ron a quick, pointed look from across the hall, silently urging him to just go for it before you wandered off or someone else interrupted.
ron cleared his throat loudly, attracting a few curious glances, which he was too preoccupied to even notice. “hey, um.. y/n, can i talk to you? like—alone?” he managed. you turned around, now facing him. “sure, what’s up?” your full attention was now at ron, who, once again, cleared his throat.
“well.. maybe we can talk outside? be—because it’s quite noisy here, don’t you think?” he suggested. you tilted your head slightly, smiling. “oh, alright, we can go outside.”
you hadn’t noticed ron exchanging looks with harry and hermione, who both gave him a thumbs-up. you then followed him out of the great hall, the clatter of trays and chatter of students soon blurred, where the two of you settled in a corner, far enough from the great hall.
“so, what d’you wanna talk about?” you asked curiously, a crease forming between your brows. you thought it was unusual for ron to want to talk to you away from the others. ron, who’s face was almost as red as his robes, suddenly spoke.
“well, i.. just thought we could—uh, you know, talk,” he muttered whatever popped up into his brain, glancing at the ground before quickly looking back at you.
you chuckled. “you’re acting really funny, what’s going on?” he swallowed hard. “would you..” he trailed off, his heart beating so loudly he swore you could hear it. you tilted your head.
“would you like to go to hogsmeade with me later this afternoon?you know.. just—just the two of us..” he mumbled, rubbing the nape of his neck as he avoided your gaze. suddenly the solid stone floors were interesting.
you widened your eyes, taken aback, but soon broke into a soft smile. “sure, that sounds fun.” and for some reason, you felt a little flutter of excitement at the idea of spending time with ron—though you couldn’t have known why.
“really? brilliant!” he beamed, then tried to steady himself. “i mean, yeah—cool.” he added quickly, running a hand through his hair and shoving the other into his pocket, trying desperately to act casual, completely ignoring his now flushed cheeks.
you laughed softly. he sure was acting weird today, you thought. “we should probably get back, shouldn’t we? before food’s all gone.” you suggested. “food? oh, right.” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you.
the blurred noise of clinking plates and laughter swelled again, and before you knew it, you were stepping back into the great hall. fred, who saw ron’s unmistakable grin—which ron tried to hide, but is obviously failing miserably—wore a smug smirk as he nudged george.
you quickly slid back into your seat, picking up your abandoned spoon to resume your breakfast as ron followed suit. hermione studied your face, which looked usually fine, before turning to ron, who seemed as if he had just won the quidditch cup, and so she took it as a good sign.
three heads away, fred and george wore a wicked grin. “looks like little ronniekins has got himself a date,” george whispered back, just loud enough for ron’s ears to burn all over again as harry bit back a laugh, before it quickly turned into a grunt. hermione had apparently kicked him under the table to shut him up, her expression schooled into feigned innocence as she buttered her toast. harry had a good feeling he was about to win his bet against ginny.
Summary: Ron is running out of time to find a good birthday present. But what do you get the girl he's in love with? He has to make sure he doesn't mess it up.
wc: 4.3k
N/A: I'm back with something quite long, I hope you like it. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors; I'm not fluent in English.
Would anyone be interested if I opened requests?
Likes and reblogs are appreciated.
Masterlist
“What do you get a girl for her birthday?”
The room fell silent after the question. Harry looked up from his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages to watch his friend fidgeting in his seat.
“Which girl?” he asked curiously. Ron’s cheeks burned bright red at the question. “Ah… I see… That kind of girl.”
“So?” Ron asked again anxiously. “What do you get them?”
“Well… I have no idea what she might like.” Harry hesitated for a moment. “Hermione likes books.”
“Yeah, but she’s not Hermione,” Ron complained as he rummaged through his trunk, looking for something that might give him an idea. Time was running out, and if he couldn’t find anything to get you, he’d look like a complete loser. “Well, I don’t know, Ron. Maybe you should ask her what she wants.”
“Yeah, right, and that’ll prove I’m such a fool that I don’t even know what to get her for her birthday. Good idea, Potter. Brilliant.” He slammed the trunk lid shut in frustration. “Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.
Harry watched him with a mixture of pity and amusement. “If you don’t want to ask her directly… You could ask Hermione, she always has good ideas,” he said, shrugging.
Ron’s eyes lit up with hope. It was true, Hermione always had good ideas that ended up saving their skins, and besides, SHE WAS ALSO A WOMAN, a perfect combination. She would have the answer.
Without wasting any more time, he dashed out of the dormitory, nearly tripping Neville, who was coming down the stairs. The common room was almost empty, except for Hermione. She was right where he expected to find her, curled up in the armchair closest to the fire with her hideous cat in her lap and her nose buried in an advanced magic book.
“Hermione,” he called, approaching, trying to hide the short dash he'd made just seconds before.
She didn't even look up from her book. “What's wrong, Ron? Another Potions assignment you didn't understand?”
“No, it's not that,” Ron denied immediately, although the truth was he did have a Potions assignment he needed help with. “This is much more important.” Hermione watched him intently over the edge of the old book. “I'm listening.”
Ron swallowed hard. “What do you get a girl for her birthday?”
Surprised by the question, Hermione dropped the book on Crookshanks, who meowed in annoyance but didn't move.
“Well, it depends on the girl,” she finally said.
“Yeah, well, a girl, a girl… Normal?” “Oh, is this a present for your sister?” she asked innocently, enjoying seeing him flustered.
“For Ginny? No!” Ron replied irritably. “Merlin, why would I want to get her something?”
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who it’s for,” she insisted.
“That doesn’t matter,” Ron replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though he knew his cheeks were starting to betray him.
“Well, if you’re looking for a present for who I think it is…” Hermione continued, suppressing a smile, “I know she lost her scarf last week, maybe that would do.”
“I can’t give her a scarf. I’m not my mother,” Ron protested again, frustrated. “Besides, I want it to be something special… And I don’t have much money.” He let his head fall into his hands with a sigh; this task was proving more difficult than he’d expected. Hermione ran her hand down his back, trying to comfort him. It was no secret to anyone who Ron was in love with, even though he didn't want to talk about it. Hermione had noticed how her friend's eyes always wandered in your direction whenever you passed by, how he tried to maintain physical contact as much as possible, and how he'd even given you the last of his Chocolate Frogs just last week. Without a doubt, Ron was completely smitten.
"You don't need to spend a fortune to give a special gift," she said kindly, setting aside the jokes. "A thoughtful gesture can mean so much more than an expensive present, you know?"
"A thoughtful gesture? What exactly does that mean?" Ron felt even more lost than before.
"Something with sentimental value, Ronald," Hermione explained, losing patience. "For example, what do you notice when you're around her?"
"Um... Well, she has a really nice laugh," he murmured after thinking for a few seconds.
"Uh-huh. What else?"
"She also has really beautiful eyes."
"Okay, we're making progress... And what things does she like?" “Well, I have no idea,” Ron muttered, somewhat lost. “She’s always drawing something in a notebook she carries around… She always wears her hair tied back with a red ribbon and she likes to look out the window when it rains.”
“Okay, I think you’ve got it.”
“I’ve got it? Are you kidding me?” He huffed in annoyance. “You still haven’t told me what to get her.”
“I’m not going to tell you,” Hermione replied, going back to her reading. “Otherwise it would be a present from me, and I already have to get her something.”
“So what are you going to get her?”
“Forget it, Ron, you’ll have to figure this out yourself,” Hermione said. She buried her nose in her book again. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m busy right now.”
“So what?” But he didn’t get a response. Annoyed, he continued, “You’ll have to figure this out yourself.” He mimicked her in a low voice with an exaggerated grimace, but Hermione just carefully turned the page. “I’m Hermione Granger, and I’m a know-it-all, only I’m not going to help you because it’s more interesting to read my book on…” She glanced quickly at the cover of the book. “Evolution and Reproduction of House-Elves?” she said with disgust. “Are you ignoring me because of that awful book?”
“It’s a fascinating and informative book,” Hermione defended herself. “If you read anything other than those stupid Quidditch magazines, you’d understand.”
“Yeah, right…” Ron slumped back against the sofa. “I once heard her mention that she likes chocolate frogs.”
“Don’t you dare!” Hermione angrily put her book aside again, but at that moment the portrait hole opened.
You swept into the common room with your group of friends. Ron immediately fell silent and glared at his friend to make sure she didn’t say anything. Hermione, pleased with the situation, raised her free hand to get your attention. Seeing them, you couldn’t help but smile and quickly approached them.
Ron thought he would faint right then and there. The annoyance he felt with his friend quickly transformed into a knot of nerves in his stomach and a burning heat in his cheeks. He prayed internally that Hermione wouldn’t open her mouth at that moment. “It’s so good to find you,” you said, relieved. “For a moment I thought I’d have to send you both an owl.”
“An owl?” Ron repeated nervously. “Why?” He had to stifle a cry of pain when he felt Hermione’s foot dig into his ankle.
“Well, I don’t know if you knew, but tomorrow is my birthday.”
“Yes, we knew,” Hermione said.
“No, I had no idea,” Ron replied at the same time. They both glared at each other, trying to get the other to shut up.
“Um… Well,” you continued, oblivious to the silent exchange, “Tomorrow is my birthday and I wanted to celebrate. It’ll be something low-key, right here. Fred and George promised they’d get me some snacks. And well, of course, you’re both invited.”
“Oh, that sounds great!” Hermione exclaimed immediately. “Count us in.”
“Cool,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be a good night.” You winked at them. One of your friends came over to where you were to take you with her towards the stairs to the bedrooms. You hadn't even disappeared from sight before Ron slumped back down on the sofa, feeling defeated.
"Well," Hermione said, unable to hide her smile, "You have at least 24 hours to figure out what to get her. You should hurry."
The night was agonizing; the idea of showing up empty-handed made Ron's stomach churn uncomfortably.
It wasn't that you'd be angry if he arrived with nothing, of course not; you were too kind. He'd seen it many times, like when you let him keep your notes indefinitely, or when you shared your favorite sweets, or how you never laughed at him whenever he managed to embarrass himself by saying something silly.
But if he managed to find a good gift, one that would impress you, there was a chance he'd get more than just kindness from you. Perhaps you could see him with the same eyes he saw you with.
However, nothing came to mind, and every small idea that seemed even remotely viable instantly became unfeasible due to the meager amount of Galleons in his purse. Harry hadn't been any help, and he was sure the rest of his friends hadn't either, and Hermione was too stubborn in insisting that he should figure it out for himself.
There was only one last option left to ask for advice, one he had tried to avoid because of the consequences it would bring. But desperate times call for desperate measures. His brothers had always been successful with girls; surely they (after teasing him relentlessly) could help him.
The next morning, for the first time that year, Ron was the first of his classmates to get up and head towards the Great Hall. Fred and George were in their usual spot, chatting about something related to explosives and some itching powder. “Good morning, little brother,” Fred greeted him with a grin that was a bit too big for that time of day. “Did you fall out of bed? Nightmares about spiders again?” Ron bit his tongue to keep from answering. Yes, he’d had a horrible nightmare where he gifted you a box full of spiders and everything ended in disaster… But he wasn’t going to admit it, not with them.
“No, I was just thinking.”
“Merlin’s beard!” George exclaimed. “I’m sure we’ll have a storm tonight.” Both twins laughed as if it were the funniest joke they’d ever heard.
He was about to get up and leave, but Fred placed his hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. “Come on, little brother, don’t be angry. Why were you looking for us?”
“I need some advice,” Ron grumbled.
“Advice,” Fred repeated. “What kind?”
“Skipping class?” George interrupted.
“Teaching some idiot Slytherin a lesson?” Fred continued.
“Escaping Filch?”
“Cheating in Snape’s class?”
“Girls?” Ron didn’t answer the question, but the change in his expression was enough to know that George had hit the nail on the head. “Girls!” he confirmed again, and the twins burst into laughter once more, attracting the attention of some students at other tables. Ron was about to get up, convinced that it had been a bad idea to ask them for help, but both brothers forcibly sat him back down.
“You should have started there. We’re experts on the subject,” Fred began. “So tell us, who is this unlucky girl?” George asked.
“I’m not looking for that kind of advice,” he lied. “I just want to know what I can get a girl for her birthday.”
“Her birthday?” Fred repeated, leaning towards him with a mischievous grin. “And she’s the one I’m thinking of.”
“I have no idea who you’re thinking of,” Ron said quickly.
“I think I’m thinking of a girl too,” George added, also leaning towards him.
“Are we thinking of the same girl, George?” Fred asked with feigned innocence.
“I think so, Fred.”
“This was a mistake,” Ron lamented, dropping his head into his hands.
“A mistake? You’ve come to the right place, little brother,” George patted him on the back, trying to cheer him up. “What’s more, we thought you were taking your sweet time,” Fred added. “We bet you’d take until next year to confess your feelings for Miss.”
“Damn it, now I owe Lee 10 Galleons,” George complained.
“You were betting on that?!” Ron exclaimed indignantly.
“Well, it’s not like you’ve been very subtle,” Fred said in a half-whisper.
“When you comb your hair every time she appears, it’s a bit obvious,” Lee commented, sitting down across from the three redheads.
“Or when you always look for a seat near her.”
“Or when you stare for long minutes when she ties her hair up.”
“Or when you stutter every time she speaks to you.”
“Or when…”
“Stop it! I don’t do any of those things!” Ron shouted, completely red-faced. “Sometimes it’s a bit creepy,” George added in a whisper. “But you’re in love, what can you do…”
Ron remained in his place, staring at the plate in front of him, unable to believe how obvious it had been.
“Anyway,” George continued, “you came to the right place, we’ll help you.”
“Yeah, right,” Ron scoffed, already despondent.
“Come on!” Fred slammed his fists on the table, making the plates rattle. “She’ll be so impressed with your gift that she’ll have no choice but to run straight into your arms, won’t she, George?”
“Of course, Fred.”
“Listen, Romeo,” George continued, “She’s a very pretty girl and she also seems to have class, you have to give her something worthy of her.”
“I think I still have some Glow Powder…” Fred rambled.
“Isn’t that the one that almost made the Prefects’ bathroom explode?” Lee chimed in, his mouth full. “Yeah, but we already adjusted it, it’s less flammable now… In theory,” Fred defended himself.
“I’m trying to surprise her, not start a fire,” Ron quickly explained.
“But you have to make your gift stand out from everyone else’s,” George said.
“And romantic,” his twin added.
“And make an impact.”
“There’s a shop in Hogsmeade near Zonko’s,” Jordan interrupted, his mouth full of toast. “They have things like bracelets, necklaces, and all that nonsense girls like… And it’s not too expensive.” Ron’s eyes widened; for the first time in the entire conversation, someone had given him a concrete idea. He stood up so quickly that he accidentally bumped his brother’s elbow as he was drinking from his glass, causing the liquid to spill all over him.
“Holy crap!” Fred exclaimed, jumping out of his seat as pumpkin juice dripped down his uniform. Ron didn’t turn to look at the mess; after all, he knew he’d get charged for it later. He reached Gryffindor Tower in record time and raced up to the dormitories, pulling all the Galleons, some Sickles, and a Knut he'd kept from his own birthday out of his trunk. There was no sign of Harry anywhere, so with a swift movement, he borrowed the Marauder's Map and the cloak hidden under the bed. He was sure he could repay him later. Without wasting any more time, he ventured through the passage, where a strong, icy gust nearly ripped the cloak off his back. It wasn't the first time he'd traveled through these tunnels, but he swore he'd never done it at such speed. It took him no more than a few minutes to reach the other end. Luckily for him, the Honeydukes cellar was completely deserted, which allowed him to remove the cloak before leaving.
Hogsmeade was completely covered in a white blanket of snow, and a familiar, sweet smell filled the air. He walked down the street trying not to attract attention; after all, this wasn't a day when Hogwarts students were allowed to visit the village.
Following Lee Jordan's words, he reached Zonko's shop and began to pay closer attention to the nearby stores. Truthfully, he'd never noticed the old bookstore next door or the old-fashioned women's clothing store beside it, but just a few meters away was what he was looking for.
A small shop, with peeling pink paint on the front and a crooked sign. The window was crammed with strange, shiny objects: rings with tiny pulsating hearts, necklaces that changed color according to the wearer's mood, and even matching bracelets that glowed when one of the two wearers pressed them. Everything seemed designed to impress a girl and perhaps also to ruin any wallet. Ron nervously eyed the shop window. Lee had lied to him; absolutely everything was either out of his budget or too tacky. He was about to give up and desperately search through that secondhand clothing store when a small butterfly caught his attention. The tiny iridescent blue insect fluttered delicately among the other items, held by a thin silver chain. Right where it was attached was a small, handwritten, almost imperceptible sign: “Special Offer!” For a moment, Ron remembered the notebook you carried everywhere, the one with the pretty butterfly you had drawn yourself.
Inside the store, a woman with grayish hair dozed behind the counter. Ron cleared his throat, trying to get her attention, making her jump.
“Oh, dear, how can I help you?” she asked in a calm, kind voice; for a moment, it reminded him of his own grandmother. Ron pointed to the shop window. “I’d like to see the butterfly pendant.”
The woman smiled before searching for what he was looking for. When she brought it out, the butterfly was still clumsily trying to escape. “Good eye, young man,” she laughed. “This is the last one left, that’s why it’s on sale.”
“On sale?” Ron repeated, trying to sound casual as he felt the money in his pocket.
She nodded and told him the price. Ron felt a lump in his throat and emptied everything he had on the counter. He counted it carefully so as not to miss a single coin under the watchful eye of the shopkeeper. Every Galleon, Sickle, and even the last Knut ended up in the shop’s register.
The shopkeeper nodded with satisfaction and tapped the butterfly once with a wand. It fell stiffly onto a small velvet box. “It will last a few minutes,” she explained as she tied a gold ribbon around it. “When your girlfriend opens it, it will fly away again.”
Ron blushed to the tips of his ears, but he didn’t correct her. He carefully tucked the small box into his pocket and said goodbye with an awkward “Thanks.”
The walk back seemed shorter, perhaps because he felt like he was floating. He wasn't in a hurry this time; the snow fell silently, clinging to his hair, but he couldn't care less. He was convinced he was carrying the best possible gift, one that would bring a smile to your face that took his breath away.
When he finally passed through the statue of the one-eyed witch, he dusted off his cloak and walked to the common room. Just as he stepped through the portrait, his brothers came up behind him, laughing and joking, carrying boxes full of snacks and drinks.
“What's with that face, Romeo?” George teased when he saw him.
Fred raised an eyebrow. “Looks like Lee's advice did some good. Although I still think you should have listened to us.”
Ignoring them, Ron went up to the room where he put the map and cloak back in their place. Harry, who was sitting on his bed leafing through a copy of the Daily Prophet, looked at him in surprise. “Did you get a present?” Ron just nodded, blushing. Harry shrugged with a smile, but didn't press the issue.
After a few minutes, they both went down to the common room. The fire was warming the room pleasantly. They had arranged a quiet get-together with a few close friends, and the twins had kept their word about getting snacks and drinks from the kitchen.
He looked around for you; you were standing by the sofa with a glass of Butterbeer in your hand, your hair loose and shining in the firelight. Hermione had just finished telling a joke that made you laugh uproariously, that laugh he loved so much, and it gave him the strength to approach you. He walked toward you with the small box in his hand. He felt like his heart would burst as he got closer; he was afraid that if he got any closer, you might even hear it. When he reached you, he reached out and gently touched your shoulder.
You turned around, and Ron froze. A small pink butterfly pendant, identical to the one he held in his hand, rested on your collarbone, glowing faintly.
“Hi! For a moment I thought you'd fallen asleep,” you said, laughing, but noticing his expression, your smile faded slightly. He just lowered his gaze, speechless.
You followed his gaze to your neck and took the small pendant between your fingers, showing it to him. “Do you like it?” you said tenderly. “It's very original, a friend gave it to me.” Ron felt his stomach sink. “Happy birthday,” he managed to say as he discreetly put away his own gift.
“Thanks, Ron,” you tried to smile at him, but his disheartened expression puzzled you.
You both remained in an awkward silence. From across the room, Ron felt the sharp gaze of his brothers, waiting for the gift to be presented, but that wasn't going to happen. “Hope you enjoy the party,” he muttered before walking away towards Harry and the twins. Fred watched him approach, disappointed. “What’s with that face? Didn’t you get her a present?” Ron didn’t answer, just slumped down in the empty space next to his best friend. Lee Jordan, who was standing with the twins, ventured to ask, “So… did you find that shop I told you about?” “Yeah,” he replied in a low murmur. “And the present? Bro, her birthday’s today. I know you want to surprise her, but I don’t know if you’ll manage it if you give it to her any other day,” George insisted. Ron clenched his jaw, but didn’t reply. Instead, he jumped up and stomped across the common room, passing by the portrait of the Fat Lady. The change in temperature was noticeable, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to be away from everyone. He slumped down on one of the steps with a heavy sigh. The hallway was silent; only the murmur from inside the room could be heard.
With his elbows resting on his knees, he took the small box from his pocket. He opened it carefully, and the small butterfly took flight. "What an idiot," he whispered to himself, watching the little creature trying to escape. He was so focused on the small glass insect that he didn't even hear the frame open behind him. He only noticed your presence when you sat down next to him, staring at you intently.
"You left early," you said, a little uncomfortable. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," he replied with a sigh. "I'm just tired."
"Oh," you murmured. "For a moment I thought you were upset... with me." He looked up to meet your eyes, bright and curious, and felt his heart melt at them.
"Don't be silly," he quickly replied. "I'm just tired of being such a... fool." Ron hesitated for a moment, but finally handed you the small, open box. With extreme care, you took the box in your hands, your warm fingers brushing against his. “I thought you’d like it, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Oh, Ron, I love it,” you said. “This one’s the same color as my notebook. Thank you so much.”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” he hastened. “Or use it, it’s silly.”
“No, it isn’t,” you interrupted. You took your wand from your pocket and tapped the chain, which, after glowing faintly, shortened considerably. “Now it definitely isn’t,” you assured him. “Will you help me?”
Ron looked at you in surprise. The necklace was now the perfect size to wrap around your wrist. He fastened it carefully, trying to keep his hands from trembling with nerves. You moved it to show it to him; the butterfly fluttered its shimmering wings. “I loved it, Ron,” you insisted again. “Thank you so much.”
“I… I’m sorry I left like that,” he apologized awkwardly. “I just… I spent all afternoon looking for something special, and I wanted it to be unique.” He paused, hesitating to continue. “I think you’re unique.”
You both remained silent, your hand still resting on his, and neither of you seemed inclined to remove it.
“Well,” you said softly, “there’s a gift that no one has given me yet.”
“Really? What—What?” He looked at you, confused.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. Ron quickly returned your kiss, gently releasing your hand to place his own on your cheeks. At first awkward and hesitant, Ron began to feel more confident when he felt your hands become entangled in his hair. He pulled back a few millimeters to check that this wasn't a dream, and without letting go, you smiled broadly before your lips met again. This time, Ron's hands ventured to your waist, caressing you more freely.
It was at that moment that the portrait of the Fat Lady creaked open again.
"I'm telling you, there's still cake in the kitchen, George," Fred complained, coming out of the passageway. "Besides, we didn't have enough..." Both brothers froze at the scene before them. You and Ron broke your kiss with a start, but remained in place. The twins, clearly surprised by the scene, opened their mouths to speak. But before you could say anything, a voice cut you off from inside the portrait.
“Fred, George! Come back here!” Hermione leaned half her body through the painting's frame to lead both brothers back into the living room. Neither resisted the young woman, and the portrait closed again, plunging the corridor back into darkness.
You looked at him again; Ron was still staring at you, his hands still on your waist. “Happy birthday,” he said again.
“This is the best birthday present,” you said before he silenced you again with a kiss.
request(ed): yes. “one day ron & harry are visiting hermione & reader in their dorm, where the girls are on hermione‘s bed, reading. reader‘s wearing the school uniform with a short skirt and when ron & harry come into the room they have a direct view of readers clothed pussy, because the skirt is so short. harry & ron are very flustered & ron can already feel the boner coming. harry takes this chance & says that him & hermione have to go get something & that ron & reader just stay here until they come back. idk how but somehow smut ensues where he’s fucking her soooo good & hard”
changed the request a bit but more or less the same lol.
————————————————————————
Ron almost couldn’t, no wouldn’t, well, didn’t want to, look away. You just looked so pretty. He and Harry had just come from the common room where they were playing games with Neville. After a few hours of it, they grew weary and thought of no better idea than to come bother the two of you. That was no small feat, of course, they had to do some sneaking and snooping as boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms - but, sneaking was their specialty.
Now he was regretting it. You were sat on your bed, in a tight cami that hugged your torso - more specifically your breasts, where you wore no bra, and had short shorts on that left little to nothing to the imagination. Your smooth legs were pulled up so that your knees were in front of your chest, and you were reading a book that was laid lazily on the top of your knees. Your feet were tucked under the covers, but after no serious inspection there was no doubt that you weren’t wearing any panties.
Ron wanted to groan where he stood. There was no reason you had to look so good. He looked over to Harry. He wasn’t seeing what he was seeing. He was too busy arguing with Hermione about who knows what. That didn’t matter right now. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed careful not to shift the blanket away from your feet. He knows how you get about your feet being cold - even though you didn't bother with socks at the moment. From this angle, he could see the way your knees pushed against your breasts making them perkier and bigger. He wished he could just reach out and touch them - feel the softness under his fingers. When he sat, you shifted to make room leaving him with a quick view of your hardened nipples. No doubt from the slight breeze in the room.
Ron felt like he was going to faint if he didn’t get this out of his system…and soon.
”How’s your book y/n?” He asks.
Unlike Hermione, the books you read were anything but educational and filled with knowledge. Most of the time they were pure sin on paper. Other times it was teeth rotting sweetness that would make any girl swoon to her knees. Right now, you were reading something that had a little bit of both with just a little more of that sin. You would never admit that to Ron though. I mean, how could you? It’s sort of embarrassing. What would he think if you knew you were reading such things? And what would he think if he knew that when you read the words on those pages…you were really thinking about him?
So you pivot. You close the book quickly and shove it under the pillow next to you.
”Nothing! I mean…nothing interesting…just science.”
“What's scientific about “Passions Promise?”
Fuck. He saw the title. You look over to Harry and Hermione and could see them talking. Much different than the bickering they were doing moments before. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying - they were being unusually quiet, but before you could attempt to eavesdrop or question them, they were getting themselves up and readying to leave.
“Hey!” You nearly leap out of bed - eager to put some distance between you and Ron. “Where are you guys going?”
When you got up, your shorts shifted so that he caught a quick glimpse of what was underneath. And not sure how possible, he was even harder than he was before. Unbeknownst to you, Harry shot Ron a wink before escaping through the door - luckily escaping your interrogation. You didn’t know it yet, but he was doing you a favor. He and Hermione were both sick of the two of you. The awkwardness, the tension. All because you couldn’t admit your feelings.
“Oh you know, we’re just taking a stroll. I’m hungry. Harry’s hungry. We’re going to go find something to eat.”
”But you hate sneaking around at night.”
”Well, yes, yeah, I know. If anything I won’t go much further than the common room. We’ll see, and we’ll be back.”
”But -“ Before you could finish she shut the door in your face and left you alone.
Well, not quite alone.
Ron watches as you turn around and loves the look on your face when you notice what he has in his hands. “Passions Promise.” He watches you take a step forward towards him and can’t help admire your body on the way over. Even though he could tell you were probably embarrassed and that just made him even more giddy. And horny. The things he would do to have you under him right now.
You were horrified. And he was smug. You could tell.
”Her body was on fire, his fingertips lit a blaze amongst her skin she had never felt with any man before. He pressed kisses down her stomach she swore could make her cum had he continued -“
”Ron!” You exclaimed cutting him off. You tried to snatch the book from him and found yourself between his legs while he held it over his head and away from you. Even though you had the height advantage, he was stronger. So so strong. That’s one of the things that turns you on about him. You know if he wanted to, he could have you off of him and away from the book in a second. But he wasn’t…he was playing a game.
You stopped trying to fight against him. It was no use. You were out of breath and so was he. His cheeks were a rosy color and his lips were puffed and bitten from trying to hold you back. He does that a lot. Bites his lip. It drives you crazy.
He looks at you and it’s as if his eyes are saying a million things his mouth aren’t. And boy did you wanna hear what his mouth had to say. You wanted to feel it too.
As soon as he walked into the room pajama pants low, sweater a bit baggy on his arms, and his hair disheveled in the way you loved - you wanted to jump his bones. He was the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen - and he didn’t even know how handsome he was.
You felt as his hand - warm and comforting, made its way to the back of your thigh and pulled you forward. You took that as a hint to place both of your knees on either side of his waist and straddle him. He helped you get comfortable and you felt his hands wander.
Ron was in heaven. The girl of his dreams was in his lap and he honestly didn’t have any thought to be nervous. He just wanted you. His hands made his way up and down your thighs until finally he felt comfortable enough to grab your ass and squeeze. He smiled when he heard you softly moan. He could feel your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“So is that what you want Y/n?”
”What?”
He brings one of his hands to your stomach lightly massaging the area.
”Kisses down your stomach you swear could make you cum?”
”Ron…”
He started kissing your neck and he could feel as you started to grind against him.
Why have you guys never done this before? Why did he wait so long?
He made his way down your neck and then down your chest. He started sucking a spot onto the top of your breast he knew would leave a mark but he didn’t care
“Tell me Y/N…”
“Yes Ron, please.”
And honestly, that’s all he needed before he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on your back. He kissed you - it was hot and sweet and feverish. He went back to trying to kiss his way down but you had other plans.
You can admit that you were a little impatient. You had waited so long for this the foreplay was the anticipation of you two finally being able to do this. Your hands went down to find the waistband of his pants and he bucked forwards once he felt your hand accidentally, or not so accidentally brushing his dick.
He helped you take them off and went to kiss you before grinding himself against you. Your shorts were long gone. You both moaned at the contact. You needed more.
“Please Ron, please just fuck me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
As he pulls down his underwear you grab a condom from your bedside drawer. He raises his eyebrows at you cheekily but takes it. You watch as he rolls it on and your mouth waters. He was big, curved and just…perfect.
You pull him down to your for a kiss by his neck and he kisses you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He prods as if asking for permission and you nod. You both moan when he’s fully inside and before you know it he has a rhythm going and he’s hitting that spot inside of you. This was better than any words on paper or scenario you could imagine.
This was real, this was tangible. What you’ve wanted for so long was finally happening. It felt so good that you never wanted it to stop. His moans were like music to your ears and you started to think of things you could do just so you could hear them again.
There wasn’t a prettier picture to Ron then what was under him. Well, who was under him. He swore he would love to see your beautiful face twisted up in pleasure for the rest of his life, as long as he was the one who could always pleasure you.
His hand trailed down to your clit which caused you to squeeze around him tighter. He nearly came on the spot but he wanted to wait until you came first.
You were shaking. The penetration plus the stimulations was just too much for you to handle and quickly you were cumming around his dick.
“Fuck, Ron, please fuck I’m cumming.”
“It’s okay baby let it go. Cum for me.”
You came and felt as Ron gently pulled out to cum as well. If you weren’t so tired you’d make a move to cover up but, you were properly fucked out.
Once Ron caught his breath he found your shorts and helped slide them back onto you.
“You’re so beautiful Y/N.”
“Shut up.”
He smiles to himself and gets himself situated as well. Before he could talk to you and and try and discuss where you guys stood now, the door was creaking open and Fred, Harry, and Hermione were coming through.
“God it reeks of sex in here what on Earth -“ Fred starts before eyeing you and Ron. “Oh finally I was starting to think you didn’t have the balls Ronny boy I -“
Ron leaps up and starts to push Fred out of the room.
“Alright that’s enough of that everyone! Show’s over. Y/N, I will see you tomorrow love and I’m expecting a recap of that wonderful novel of yours. We can talk about what it all means -“
“Or maybe reenact what it all means.” Fred interrupts cheekily.
Summary: Ron surprises you with something very special in the Weasley household.
⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰
You were only half joking one evening in the Gryffindor common room when you’d said, “Honestly, Ron, I’m starting to feel left out. Where’s my Weasley sweater?”
You were curled up on the couch, watching as Fred and George wrestled over something ridiculous while Ron lounged beside you, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. He’d glanced over at you with a crooked smile, laughing lightly. “Yeah? I’ll tell Mum to put you on the list.”
But what you didn’t notice was how his smile lingered a little too long after your words—or how his gaze dropped thoughtfully to your hands as you tugged your sleeves over your knuckles, looking almost wistful.
You’d forgotten the comment by the next morning.
But Ron… hadn’t.
⸻
A few weeks later, you came back to the common room after a long day of classes, ready to collapse into your usual spot by the fire. But as soon as you stepped inside, something felt different.
Ron was there—standing by the fireplace, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, his cheeks flushed pink. His eyes locked onto yours the moment you walked in, and he stiffened, gripping something behind his back like he was hiding a weapon.
“Hey,” you greeted, raising a curious brow, sensing the nerves rolling off him in waves. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m—fine,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “Just… uh… actually—wait.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling something out from behind his back and holding it up between you.
It was a sweater.
A big, chunky, obviously handmade sweater.
Your heart actually skipped.
It wasn’t perfect—in fact, it was hilariously imperfect. The stitching was uneven, the sleeves looked slightly mismatched in length, and the maroon wool had random streaks of mustard yellow running through it. But there, front and center, were your initials—crooked but unmistakable—stitched right onto the front.
You stared, mouth falling open.
“Ron…” you said softly, reaching out to take it from him, “is this—did you…?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, staring determinedly at the floor. “I mean, yeah. I did. Well—Mum helped a bit with the… magic bits. But I—I did most of it. Thought you deserved your own Weasley jumper if you were serious about wanting one.” He glanced up quickly, eyes flicking to yours, then back down just as fast. “It’s not… y’know, perfect or anything.”
Your heart swelled in your chest.
“It’s perfect,” you said, barely getting the words out before you were tugging it over your head. It was huge, hanging past your hips, and the sleeves were way too long. But it was warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon and woodsmoke, and you honestly couldn’t have loved anything more in that moment.
You stretched out your arms, grinning. “How do I look?”
Ron’s grin bloomed, wide and proud, his freckles practically glowing with how red his face got. “Like a—like a proper Weasley,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse.
You laughed, stepping closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing tight. You felt him freeze for a second in surprise before he melted into the hug, his arms coming around you with that same awkward, sweet gentleness that was so him.
You pulled back just enough to kiss his cheek—soft and lingering—and when you stepped away, he looked completely stunned, blinking down at you like you’d just set off a firework between you.
“Best gift I’ve ever gotten,” you said, resting your chin on his chest and beaming up at him.
He gave a breathless little laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah? Well… good. I’ve got years of practice ahead if you’re gonna keep asking for stuff like that.”
“Careful,” you teased, leaning into him again. “I might start making demands.”
Ron chuckled, tightening his arms around you as he pressed his nose into your hair, warm and content. “Anything you want,” he mumbled against your temple, voice low and sincere. “You’re worth it.”
And as you stood there, wrapped in both his sweater and his arms, you couldn’t help but think you’d never felt cozier—or more loved—in your entire life.
Description: short headcanons including Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Remus Lupin (young). They’re all touch-starved bastards.
Female!reader
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Harry Potter
✬༄ we all know this boy got some major issues that’s nit his fault. And being touch starved is one of them.
✬༄ he doesn’t even realizes he craves comfort and affection he never got until you two started getting closer and he felt odd urges to hold you or even just hold your hand to ground him.
✬༄ once you start dating, he’ll constantly ask for consent and even when you tell him he doesn’t have to ask, he just feels the need to do so.
✬༄ he respects you immensely and never wants to make you uncomfortable, he’s feel like the worst person ever if he did and he wants to avoid that for a very long time if possible.
✬༄ honestly he melts into any touch you give him, but he especially finds himself craving your hands in his hair playing with it or holding your hand. He doesn’t know why, it’s just something about them that really does it for him.
✬༄ sometimes he’s scared you’ll reject his touch. He asks as always, mad at him or not, but there’s this tone in his soft voice when asking for consent that makes you fold and let him touch you. No matter how upset or irritated you are.
✬༄ he finds it hard to sleep without you now. Harry says you keep the nightmares away but you believe he just needs to make sure you’re still there and okay.
✬༄ overall, Harry loves you down heavily and would never be embarrassed if you. Public or private, everyone will know you’re dating him. Even if he has to apologize when his fame gets too overwhelming for you.
Ronald Weasley
✬༄ oh boy. He’s such an ass
✬༄ I have a feeling he has an avoidance attachment issue but I also feel like if he’s truly in love and it’s the one, he won’t push back as much.
✬༄ he’s a complicated character, but let’s say yall somehow end up dating and he’ll definitely have an avoidance attachment issue with you, but the longer the relationship goes on and when he’s comfortable and confident in the relationship he’ll be more affectionate towards you.
✬༄ only in private at first though, he’s so odd. You’ll have to slowly get him used to holding hands, kisses, hugging, all of it. He’ll be so awkward like always but it’ll get better. Eventually.
✬༄ let’s say you finally got him to be comfortable with showing you physical affection and vise versa, now he’s overthinking with pda.
✬༄ honestly he’s stubborn so it’ll take a long time to be ok with small amounts of pda. If he’s jealous though all of it flies out the window and suddenly his arm is around your shoulders pulling you closer to his side.
✬༄ in general, he needs the physical affection more than he’d ever admit. Only from you though.
✬༄ But you have to know him well enough cause he’s too prideful sometimes to ask for what he wants. He grumbles, but never stops you.
Remus Lupin
✬༄ poor boy doesn’t think he deserves a lot of things simply because of his condition.
✬༄ one if those things being you. Maybe he doesn’t verbalize it often but he always thinks how he doesn’t deserve your kindness, selflessness, your love and attention and unlimited affection. And he certainly doesn’t deserve your understanding and patience.
✬༄ it took longer than it should have getting together, simply because he was too cowardly to ask you out, out of fear of rejection. He couldn’t lose you even if it meant only friendship.
✬༄ once yall finally start dating in 6th year, he’s still so anxious to be so close to you. He’s just so nervous at the possibility of making you uncomfortable he comes off as standoff-ish.
✬༄ you eventually talk to him to clear the air and he breaks, and you realize there’s a lot more than what meets the surface. You comfort him warmly, and after that day he can’t help but feel a craving for more of your touch.
✬༄ he slowly stops being so withdrawn and actually holds your hand in halls or presses his knee against yours when sitting together. He asks sometimes, he can’t help it, but with your reassurance he begins to feel confident within the New Romantic dynamic.
✬༄ after the first month of dating, he can’t help but want to always be touching or near you. You quickly see he wants you to initiate because it makes him feel needed and wanted. Yes, as simple as a cheek kiss or hand holding will make him feel greedily satisfied and calm.
✬༄ by 5 months, it’s expected for pda, even small amounts. You’re both comfortable with it and it helps you both feel content and a sense of belonging. And Remus knows no matter what, werewolf or human, you’ll always be there for him to lean on.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Any feedback or requests are heavily appreciated!🫶🏻
Also I feel like this was inspired by reading someone else’s fic but I can’t find anything so if anything seems familiar lmk cause I’m not trying to copy at all. (This was started late at night, ion remember nothing😭)
Staying at the Burrow for the first time as Ron’s girlfriend felt like stepping into a warm, chaotic embrace. Molly Weasley had welcomed you like you’d always belonged, fussing over your favorite foods, offering second helpings before you even finished the first.
She couldn’t stop beaming. Every other sentence was about how well Ron had done for himself.
“Such a respectful young man,” she said proudly over dinner, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder. “No wonder he got such a lovely girl. Fred, you could learn from your brother. Ladies like polite, considerate boys.”
Ron had nodded, ears red, doing his best to live up to the praise.
You smiled, heart full, but it was hard not to laugh every time Molly praised him like some angelic schoolboy. Especially knowing what he was really like when no one else was watching.
Later that night, as soon as his bedroom door shut behind you, the change was instant.
His hands were on your waist before you could speak, lips hot against your neck, breath warm and eager. The look in his eyes was anything but gentlemanly.
“Been dying to do this all day,” he whispered, voice low, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your jumper.
You barely managed a reply before he pulled you into a kiss, deep and slow, his body pressed close like he couldn’t stand another inch of space between you.
From downstairs, Molly’s voice rang out a cheerful, “Goodnight, dears!”
You both froze, stifling laughter, and Ron grinned against your cheek.
summary: when ron's been locked in his dorm trying to finish an essay all afternoon, you decide to help motivate him a little
cw: SMUT, established relationship, unlocked door
1.2k+ wc
You'd been sitting with Hermione in the common room after having finished all your work, waiting for Harry and Ron to come down from their dorm and join you downstairs, making mental notes of the silly stories you had to tell them. You furrowed your eyebrows when you checked the clock again, noticing how late in the afternoon it was becoming. Leaving Hermione to check on your boyfriend, you began walking up to his dorm when Harry suddenly came running down the staircase in his Quidditch uniform, carrying his broom in one hand and yelling "I'm so late to practice!" A laugh bubbled in your chest as you continued trekking to the right dorm.
You waited for Ron's call to come in after knocking twice on the door, cracking the door open slightly to see him crouched over his desk, completely still while whispering things to himself under his breath. You stalked over him, careful not to make any noise before sighing at the sight. He was absolutely precious, unusually stressing himself over his care of magical creatures essay.
Wrapping your arms over Ron's shoulders behind his spot at his desk, you pressed fluttering kisses all over his cheeks and the side of his neck. The boy groaned, leaning his head back to allow you more space as he shut his eyes tightly, taking a short break from his homework. "Baby I don't get it." He whined, rubbing his eyes tiredly. You ran a hand through his messy fiery hair, pressing another kiss on Ron's temple before he was twisting in his chair to wrap an arm around your waist, guiding you around his chair so you could stand next to him. Shifting his chair backwards slightly, Ron tugged you to the space between his legs.
Resuming your soft massage on Ron's hair, you hummed slightly as he rested his hands on the back of your thighs, head leaning forward against your stomach. "What are you struggling with sweetheart?" "Everything. I don't get this stupid essay." He complained again, pulling you impossibly closer to him. "D'you need help? I finished mine not long ago." Ron shook his head against you, looking up at you with a pouty face. "This is something I need to do alone." You giggled slightly, leaning down to peck his lips quickly. Ron chased your lips the second you pulled away, trying to pull you back in. You smiled against his lips when they finally found yours, pulling away to laugh happily.
Your arms slung over Ron's shoulders squeezed him closer to you, letting him hug you as tightly as he wished. Ron moaned in annoyance against your jumper, and you grinned, an idea popping into your head. "Hey, bet you could some motivating though." Curiously, Ron's face was peeking up to look at yours, a pink tint forming on his cheeks. "Yeah, what kind of motivation?" You leaned in once again, lips barely touching his, moving your hands down to Ron's thighs. His muscles flexed under your touch, and he swallowed thickly, hands coming down to rest atop yours.
"I think you have a good idea of that." Ron was pulling you onto his lap before the words even left your mouth, hands positioning your legs so you straddled him, the both of you barely fitting on the desk chair. Your knees were uncomfortably tucked into the space below the arms of the chair, digging into the leather. Cupping Ron's jaw, you kissed him slowly, pulling back every time he tried speeding up the kiss, breathing heavily into your mouth. You giggled, lightly biting his bottom lip before retreating and unbuckling his thick belt. Ron's fingers wandered underneath your skirt, pushing your panties to the side while you freed him from his boxers. He watched intensely as you spat on your hand before stroking his length, waiting for him to fully harden before guiding his cock towards your hole.
Lifting your hips up to push his tip into you, you sunk down on his cock slowly, biting your bottom lip to suppress a loud moan. "Fuck. Should've locked the door." You muttered, digging your head into the crook of Ron's neck while you adjusted to his size, feeling his chest vibrate with a chuckle. Slowly beginning to lift your hips up, you gained momentum to bounce on your boyfriend's dick. Ron met your movements, snapping his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, hands loosely holding your waist just in case you lost your balance. Ron shut his eyes, taking pleasure in the feeling of your cunt against every ridge of his cock. You gasped, reaching a hand out to grab the back of the unsteady chair as a wave of pleasure shot through you, panting loudly.
One of Ron's hands left your waist, finding a path under the untucked shirt of your uniform to grope at your breast, tweaking your nipple to harden the sensitive nub. You arched your back towards his chest, cursing as you leaned down to suck on the soft skin of Ron's neck - a desperate attempt to silence your cries. The burn in your thighs paired with the uncomfortable pinch of the warm leather on your pace had you readjusting yourself above your boyfriend before recommencing your movements, only slower. Ron groaned as you began grinding down on his cock, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging your body into his chest, where you leant your head on his shoulder, stilling your movements.
A sharp thrust of his hips up into your core had you whining, nails digging into the sides of his shoulders as he jerked himself into you with a fast pace. You bounced upwards with every snap of Ron's hips, but he hugged you close to him, only making you brush against his chest. Taking the easy access to Ron's neck, you resumed your kisses there, biting and sucking occasionally to leave red hickeys in their wake. Licking over a spot below his ear you just kissed, you firmly bit down, leaving a stinging pain in Ron's neck. Your boyfriend gasped at the sudden sear, harshly forcing his hips upwards into you with a loud "Fuck!" Your high pitched moan filled the room, your cunt clamping down again Ron's cock as you reached your high. A string of curse words left Ron's mouth as his hips uncontrollably twitched, releasing his orgasm into you while his arms squeezed you tighter against him.
Breathing heavily, you bit your lip to try and suppress your moan as Ron shuddered against you, urging his arms to loosen up against you so you could breathe. "Oh my god." You panted, grabbing the desk behind you to help you stand up as Ron's arms fell to his side, slumping against the chair. "Shit, baby." He mumbled as his hand reached out to shove your skirt up, watching his cum dribbled down your thighs. You separated your legs in discomfort, bending down to take your soiled panties off before placing it on Ron's desk, leaning your hips against it while you scanned his working space.
"I'm gonna go clean myself off and read a book in my dorm. Come find me when you're done with this essay." Ron nodded, dumbfounded, accepting the short kiss you gave him before strutting away, slowly reaching out for the panties on his desk to shove them in his pocket and zip his pants back up.
