Bandaids for the Boxer.

Pairing: Boxer!Ron x Personal Assistant!Reader (mostly platonic)

Description: As ron’s personal assistant and one of his closest friends he’s very overprotective over how people talk to you

Warnings: Cursing, catcalling, blood, fighting, Ron being over protective, she/her pronouns

Word count: 1.0k

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

The sound of leather smacking different objects radiated through your already pounding head as you were working through your third hour in the gym with Ron. He promised it’d be quick “an hour and a half, tops” is what he told you before you showed up to the forsaken building. You kinda hated it here.

There was never any quiet. The whole gym smelt like a men’s locker room and some of the guys that worked out there were more than a little creepy. You mostly kept to yourself and worked on your laptop.

You were Ron’s personal assistant, helping him with anything from water bottles to answering his phone when he didn’t feel like it. He paid you good money but you were always a little surprised that he wanted you to be his assistant. You didn’t know anything about boxing, besides the stereotype of two overconfident men standing in front of a crowd and hitting each other till one dropped.

Ron had taken off his gloves as he and one of his friends decided to go for a round for fun. You hadn’t been paying attention then but as you looked up to see Ron sink the final punch. Blood stained his opponent’s face and it dripped from Ron’s knuckles. You stood up, grabbed your bag, and walked over to the bloody fighter.

“You know if you stopped getting hurt it would make my job easier.” You pulled his water bottle from your bag and handed it to him.

“Aw, but where is the fun in that doll?” You looked at his hand and he had a couple of gashes on his knuckles. He took his water bottle and sprayed the water in his mouth. You squeezed harder over his hand so water went all over his face and shirt.

“Oops.” you chuckled at the look on Ron’s face. “That’s what you get for making me come over here to clean your wounds,” You shrugged and reached into your bag for the antibiotics and bandaids.

“Look everyone, Weasley has his own nurse,” one guy shouted from a chair and a couple of others laughed.

“Damn straight. Best nurse in the world.” Blush coated your cheeks as you cleaned the dried blood from his calloused hands. A few moments passed and one of the creepier regulars strutted into the gym. You made a point to never tell Ron when men, especially men at that gym, were weird. You knew he would probably kill them.

His eyes met yours as you looked up to the sound of the opening door. You looked down quickly and started spreading little dots of antibiotics across the cuts.

“Ouch!” Ron said, ripping his hand away from you.

“Don’t be a baby, give it back,” you held out your hand for him. You finished with the antibiotics and as you went to put the bandaids on you realized they were the princess bandaids you had bought for home. You didn’t say anything about it, there wasn’t any way to fix it now so he would have to suffer with the pink bandaids. He had been talking to a few guys as they watched two more spar and didn’t look at his hand till you were done.

He looked at his hand and then back up at you. He raised his eyebrow, “Pink?”

“Yeah. You got a problem with it?” You said playfully.

“Not at all.” he stood from his seat and started walking back towards his friends. You stood too before bending over to collect your things.

“I don’t know how you guys get any work done with that thing walking around.” You didn’t even need to look up to know who was talking. That’s when you realized the grave mistake this man had made. Everyone was looking at Ron as his eyes burned into the man.

“What’s your name?” Ron said through a calm and even tone.

“Jacob. Why?” The man was almost as tall as Ron but not as muscular.

“Jacob. Well, Jacob, if you ever speak to or about my girl like that again you won’t be able to get work done at all. Ever.” He was fuming, anger coursed through him and it was evident. You walked over to Ron and put your hand on his shoulder gently.

“He’s just some gym bro who thinks he can say anything he wants, don’t let him get under your skin,” you whispered.

“And you are gonna be the guy to do that? You’ve got pink bandaids on your hand that your little bitch put on you.” One of Ron’s friends moved to intercept him before he could land a punch on this asshole.

“Ron it’s okay,” you said, hoping you could snap him out of it.

“No y/n it really isn’t. I think he needs a lesson in how to speak to women and when to gauge when he’s gonna get his ass beat.”

“Well then step up pussy.” Jacob had so much confidence in himself that even Ron’s manager stepped back. Ron took two big steps toward him and they were face to face.

“Hit me and we will see who the real pussy is, bitch.” Ron knew just the buttons to press to get what he wanted without initiating the fight. “Or are you just a little pussy gym bro who thinks he can treat women however he wants?” That’s when Jacob hit him. Ron felt adrenaline shoot through his body. His fists were automatic after that, Jacob landed two more punches before Ron had him incapacitated on the floor. Jacob’s face was bloody and covered in tears when Ron decided he had enough.

“Learn from this experience Jacob. If y/n here ever says you say anything to her or even look in her direction it’ll end much worse. Understand?”

Jacob groaned in agreement from the floor and that’s when you finally asked if you could leave for the day.

“Whatever you want, doll.” You both gathered your things and left the gym.

“So I’m your girl now?” You smirked up at the redhead.

“You’ve always been my girl, darling.”

Taglist:@anti-zippy-snoot@sourpatchpills@fanfictioniseverything@wh0reforthemarauders@sunshinexhotchner

<3Some moots: @papillon-mechant@dr4cking@weasleytwinscumslut@spicypisceshit@dlmmdl@malfoysgem@bukoffski@enviedear@horrorxweasley@bttycpper@carnationbasement@weaselbrownie@thecastlewitch@phuckinphia@multiqts@shespeaksinsongs@littlemissnoname13@mellifluousart@banquetwriter@weasleyapologist@ronweasleysgf@saintlike78@fqlkrore@draconisxcaput@nevsluvr@sereinegemini

Death Eaters : We’re holding you for ransom!

Ron : Oh no

Harry : How much is the ransom?

Death Eaters : 500.000 galleons

Hermione : That’s absurd!

Y/n : Yeah! That’s absurd!

Y/n : Can you raise it? I’m worth so much more than that

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Death Eaters :

Is This Falling?

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader

Word Count:1.2k

Warnings:Swearing?

Requested: Yes! I forgot by who though :( It’s a song fic for Is This Falling? by Charlie Bennett. also this is kind of bad.

Summary:Oh, Darling, there’s so many things I wish I could say.

Is this falling?

I don’t know yet

It’s too early to tell what you’re thinking

Or how I feel

Was this falling?

Ron Weasley had no idea.

What exactly was falling in love? He was familiar with the feeling of physically falling due to the many times his brothers had pushed him around. It left a soaring sensation and a rush of adrenaline to the mind. It was scary yet peaceful. For a moment you’re not touching the ground, completely unsupported by anything with mass. Simple, but beautiful.

Ron wasn’t sure if this was falling. He remembered when he first met you that was what it had felt like. It was stares in between classes and red cheeks when you caught him. Harry teasing him shamelessly and you giving him an excuse to study.

The light feeling in his stomach was saying that this was falling. The effects were mirrored so intricately. But there were also the moments the two of you spent together where the world stood still. Everything seemed to slow down and the feeling in his stomach eased into warmth that reminded him of home.

“Hey, Ron?” you asked.

His cheeks scraped against the blades of grass as he turned to look at you. “Yeah?”

Your finger pointed towards a cloud in the sky. “That looks like a Bowtruckle, right?”

His eyes squint as a giant grin comes over his face. He shoves you lightly. “You’re joking? That’s most definitely a Kniffler.”

Your laugh echoed into the open fields of the Hogwarts grounds. It was gorgeous and he felt the light feeling in his stomach return. “A Kniffler? That’d take a much fatter cloud.”

He wasn’t sure if this was falling. But Ron swore he felt something whether it was the light feeling in his stomach or the warmth that came after. He didn’t know what it was and he’s pretty sure you didn’t know either.

But he liked whatever it was.

But I like you

That much is true

Could we hold hands and row down the street in a canoe together?

Hogsmeade weekends hadn’t been this fun in a while.

But somehow just hanging out with you made it better.

“You’re so bad at this, Ronald.”

You threw another Pepper Imp at him, watching as he tried to catch it in his mouth with no success. “It’s much harder than it looks.”

He held one between his fingers. “You give it a try.”

Ron threw the candy, watching sulkily as it landed perfectly in your mouth. You smirked, “Difficult, huh?”

He shoved you as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Want to get a Butterbeer?”

“Sure.” you say, intertwining your fingers in his. “Rock, paper, scissors to see who pays?”

Ron squinted. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

You smile. “It’s a Muggle game. Rock is a fist.” you make a fist. “Scissors are like this.” you leave out your index and middle fingers. “Paper is just your palm.” you stick out your palm. “Rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper and paper beats rock.”

“That makes no sense.” Ron chuckles.

“That’s the point.” you rolled your eyes. “Ready?”

Ron nodded.

“Rock, paper, scissors. Shoot!”

You ended up losing, surprisingly enough to Ron. The game made no sense. But your fingers were intertwined as you walked down the cobbled streets and all he could feel was you.

He came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t mind feeling you all the time.

I like you, that’s true

Well, darling would you hold me?

Kiss me like you told me?

Darling, would you?

Sleep was hard during such trying times.

War was rising, people were dying. Nightmares were a given and curled together was the cure. Your arms were wrapped around him and thunder rumbled outside the window. He could hear you murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” he sighed, turning red as your lips met his neck. “Why, are you scared of storms?”

You smirked. “I can’t be afraid of storms for I’m learning to sail my ship.”

He grinned stupidly. “What?”

You pecked him on the lips. “You need to catch up on your Muggle literature.”

Ron groaned. “Y/N, you know I don’t read.”

You laughed into his neck, the thunder fading from mind.

Pick me up, up, up

Throw me away

I don’t know what to do or what to say

“Ron! Are you ready?”

He hears your shouts from the top of the stairs. Your footsteps thud as you scramble for your purse. Ron straightens his tie with trembling fingers. He could hear you running down the stairs and he turned to you with wide eyes.

You stood before him wearing your favorite color and your favorite outfit. Hair done flawlessly and the aura you gave off could only be described as ethereal. You smiled widely and it caused his heart to stop. The breath no longer left his lungs the way it should and his eyes couldn’t blink for fear he’d miss even the slightest movement.

“Ron?”

He couldn’t say a word and he cursed himself mentally for it.

You smirked, fixing his crooked tie. “I think I’ve rendered you speechless.”

“You… you look gorgeous.” he stammered.

Sometimes he questioned how someone like you would ever like someone like him. He stammered over his words and couldn’t tie a tie properly. His hair stuck up in all the wrong places and his cheeks dusted red at the slightest inconvenience. But here you were, readjusting his tie and kissing the dust off his cheeks and despite his lack of words, you felt him all the same.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

We’re sat here holding hands on the floor

Listening to the ‘Cars 2’ movie score

Darling, would you push me away?

“What music is this?”

Ron was not Muggle savvy. He didn’t know the Rolling Stones from The Beatles or who McJagger was. He didn’t know David Bowie or the sounds of R&B that emerged from America. But you knew it all and he didn’t know that discovering it with you would be so magical. Unlike anything in the wizarding world.

“This is Frank Sinatra.” you say. “He’s big in America and pretty old.”

“Ancient?” Ron said.

“Definitely.” you laugh.

Come Fly With Me came on and the trumpets picked up. Jazzy and light. You picked yourself off the floor, turning the dial up on the stereo. Your hand extended down at the floor. “Dance with me, Ronald?”

His cheeks stained red. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Does it have to matter?” you grin.

He took your hand and you held each other close. The music lightly blared in the background and neither of you spoke but it was peaceful that way. Words weren’t necessary and hands intertwined supplused enough unspoken feelings between you two.

These little things were enough.

Just to help me lose feelings

Or darling, would you hold me?

Kiss me like you told me?

Darling would you?

Was this falling?

Ron Weasley still wasn’t sure.

Watching you be beautiful made his stomach twist and fill with hollow light. Being held by you made him feel warm and heavy in all the best ways. He had always thought falling would be scary. It seemed as though he’d be stuck but you made falling easy. What he could hope for was that you’d be there through the rest of his life. Holding his hand, keeping him sane.

It was all he could ask for.

Was for you to be there with him.

Darling, would you?

—

Let me know what you thought? Send an ask to be added to the taglist.

Forever Friends: @coperative@awritingtree@officiallydarkgeek@exhsle@elenapatricia99@readzwith-xol@a-candle-maker@datrie@temporaryissue@coffeewithoutcaffeine@magicalxdaydream

Harry Potter Taglist: @amrtxntia@seggsyvampire@lxncelot@theravenclawgal@iamninaanna@onyourgoddamnleft@irlpadfoot@chaotic-fae-queen@swanimagines@lunalovegoodisgay@whyisallthecoolstufftaken@inglourious-imagines@amourtentiaa

The End of The World

Pairing:Ron Weasley x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 506 (short blurb)

Warnings:Death, Discussion of Death

Requested:Yes, by an anon

Summary:The end of the world fogged over the sky and there you were, a lightning strike, to signal beginning of the pain.

The end of the world came in the way one would expect.

The air was ash-coated and smelled of embers. Small rumbles quaked the ground as though you were under the earth as bombs scratched the surface above you.

Chaos. Doesn’t the world typically end that way? With people flooding up and down the stairs of the castle. You could hear screams and cries of help and all you could feel was your hand clutched in Ron’s as he guided you through the halls.

“Come on.” he panted, tugging you along. “We’ve got to regroup with everyone.”

“I know.” you cry, fumbling for your wand. “I see them.”

Thunder shook and wisps of light blue magic shimmered in the air, beautiful but a warning. They were losing their defenses. Ron’s hair was the same stark ginger color it had always been since the day you had become his childhood friend. Same warm scent, same cold eyes. The end of the world made you think about these things and you wondered if he was doing the same.

You regrouped and there stood Ron’s siblings; Percy, Fred, George and beside them stood Harry and Hermione. Your mind was blank and you couldn’t distinguish the chatter that ensued. All you saw was Ron’s face light up at Percy’s words.

Then there was the rumble that ended it all.

You don’t know how you caught on to it but you did. There was the wall and it was crumbling into fragments and Fred Weasley stood right under it. With a jump, a brave jump you were surprised was rooted in you, you pushed Fred aside, drowning yourself in a thunderous pile of rubble.

—

“No!”

Ron rushed through the group, hands digging into the pile of rubble that buried you. “No!”

Your body was unearthed in seconds, limp with a proud expression on your face as though you couldn’t believe that you had been so brave. But the expression differed on Ron’s face, a shaky frown on his face as he looked down at your corpse.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die and there was no way to test that theory. However, your life, one that was interconnected with Ron’s since childhood, flashed before his eyes as he shook you. Holding hands as toddlers, running down the hills and tumbling over into flower patches. Playing Quidditch with apples and buying sweets at Honeydukes. After every disagreement with Harry or Hermione he always came to you because despite not always agreeing with him you were always there.

Another perfect allegory for the circumstance would be that of an ecosystem. If you remove a vital portion of a thriving ecosystem it will begin to fail. What happens when you remove someone from your life? What happens when they are removed without your consent? Grief flooded, the ecosystem failed until it finally was able to thrive once more without the part that was removed.

Was this how it was going to be like?

Your lifeless eyes provided the answer.

—

Let me know what you thought? Send an ask to be added to my taglist!

Forever Friends: @angelxnaa@coperative@awritingtree@officiallydarkgeek@exhsle@elenapatricia99@readzwith-xol@a-candle-maker@datrie@temporaryissue@coffeewithoutcaffeine@magicalxdaydream

Harry Potter Taglist: @amrtxntia@seggsyvampire@lxncelot@theravenclawgal@iamninaanna@onyourgoddamnleft@irlpadfoot@chaotic-fae-queen@swanimagines@lunalovegoodisgay@whyisallthecoolstufftaken@inglourious-imagines@amourtentiaa

without me? | ron b. weasley(request)

summary;you and ron say goodbye.

tagged;@partr1dge<3

word count; 1.6k

content;this is really fucking sad, arguing, angst galore, making out, mention of horcruxes, no foreplay y'all i’m sorry, unprotected sex (let’s say she’s on birth control), sad sex(smut), riding, fluff/angst.

a/n;i know this is serious but now i can’t stop thinking about all those fuckboy memes like “a haha….. fuck, without me?” also this physically hurt me to write !! i’m sorry anon, this is way too sad, and i know you mentioned them having their first time, but i hope you don’t mind that i changed the story a little so they were together for the ‘last time’!!

you and ron had been arguing, and yelling, and crying, for hours now. it wasn’t intense, nor heated. it was cold, it was brash, it was heartbreaking and earth-shattering. you could feel a harsh weight in your chest much akin to a gaping hole that made your limbs feel heavy, and your head hot. that made you feel utterly weak. your face felt warm and swollen from all the tears that had run down it, and his cheeks were flushed pink, face blotchy.

you think, now, that you weren’t really that angry, just desperate. you just wanted an excuse, to create an argument, an argument that could very well have been your last. and you wanted to make him feel the way that you did, being left here while he went off to get himself killed, at least a little bit. but not too much. merlin, you wouldn’t have wished this feeling of hopelessness on anyone else.

ron weasley had a strong heart, so strong that it chipped away at himself with every person he loved. his friends, his family, you.

and he had a strong head on his shoulders, determined, courageous, yet burdened by endless insecurity.

and you loved him.

your voice cracked for what felt like the millionth time, as the argument reached its shallow peak, where you two were just silent, before finding another reason to argue again, “why can’t i just go with you, please, ron?”

“you wouldn’t be safe! i’ve told you this, it’s bloody dangerous!”

“you say that as if i haven’t always gotten you out of something dangerous! i was there when you got those stupid scars up your arms, i was there for you —”

“i know, i know—”

“merlin, ron, i’m always there! i’ve always been there when you do stupid shit with harry and hermione!” you pointed to your side, as if an invisible audience were observing you, “why on earth is it — is it up to you to decide now that you want to protect me?”

“because i don’t want you to get hurt, not because of me!”

“well, you’re doing a pretty fucked up job of that.”

you both swallowed, then sighed heavily, sitting down on his bed. he sat, hands clasped in his lap, body tensed. you pressed your hands into the mattress, leaning over it and letting your hair fall down into your face. this was so messed up. reaching over silently, without looking up, you took his hand in yours.

“don’t go,” you croaked, “i love you.”

“i love you too.” he whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke any louder. but he didn’t give you an answer. he didn’t need to. you both knew there was no turning back on his decision, that it was something he had to do, that it was something you’d have to accept.

sniffling, you finally lifted your head, looking over at him with tears blurring your vision. you picked up his hand in yours, brushing your lips over it, and shutting your eyes.

he took you in his arms, gently grasping your jaw and kissing you softly. when he pulled away, you carefully pushed him back to you, fingers ghosting the nape of his neck as you both tilted your heads, breathing ragged, cheeks wet. you could taste the salt in your mouth as your tongue swiped over his, not in a battle for dominance, but a cautious waltz of need.

you climbed into his lap, bending down to meet his lips, arms wrapped tightly around the nape of his neck, desperate to just be close. he clutched your waist, kissing down your jaw to your neck, not feverishly, tenderly — he wanted to memorise every piece of you, and guard it with his life. for you, he would. for you, it was worth it. it was worth everything.

sliding down your tank top to your hips, he placed more wet kisses to your exposed breasts, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell, licking over your nipples and suckling gently on the buds as you slowly rolled your hips into his.

you didn’t want to think of it as a goodbye. but he’d left you no choice, informing you just a day before his departure that he’d be going to hunt for horcruxes to help his friends. and it was such a selfless thing to do, and it was so ron, running into a battle with no armour on. it was an act of wavering courage. yet you couldn’t help but feel fury burst through you, entangling with your worst fears, your pity, your desperation, your sadness.

you wanted to keep ron weasley protected, away from everyone else, away from hurt, away from the trials of life and death. it was unrealistic, but you craved it nonetheless, and you let that want course through your veins, blood burning. you could feel it in your wrists, at your pulse, at your throat, in your stomach, simmering. these were shallow, scalding waters that you waded through, knees giving in, heart giving out.

he moved you to the centre of the bed, taking off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground; you studied him for a moment, broad shoulders, freckled skin — you thought he was beautiful. then you eyed his arms as he leaned over you, covered in deep, white scarring, circling up to his bicep, the cause of the scars even having lashed out at his waist, licks of ivory decorating the sides of his torso. and, pulling your tank top and shorts down, his eyes devoured all the newly exposed skin too.

you didn’t speak — you couldn’t speak. your hearts were still aching and this was merely a distraction, a last dance.

he trailed desperate kisses down to your waistline, then hooked your panties down, kissing over your inner thighs, making you squirm. then to your hips, and your waist, lengthening the distance between you and what you wanted most.

not wasting another second, he kicked off his own pants and underwear, and slowly dragged the head of his cock over your slit.

he found his voice somewhere, buried in the pit of his stomach.

“are you ready?” he rasped, swallowing.

“mhmm.” you nodded, and wrapped your legs around him, hands grasping his shoulders as he eased himself in, just like he’d done many times before.

you groaned quietly together, closing your eyes and savouring the feeling one last time. you clenched tight around him as he set a slow pace, hips gently thrusting against you, both letting little moans slip from your mouths, throats dry from all the shouting and crying. the feeling of fullness enveloped you as he thrust in as deep as he could go, making you gasp and wrap your arms around him tighter.

“so good for me, love. feels so good.” he muttered between pants, the words only making you pulse around him tighter. you had a bizarre urge to both cum and hold off as long as you could so this would go on as long as possible, as long as you needed him on you, inside you.

the sex was soft, bittersweet, filled with random kisses, both rolling your hips against each other. sometimes with ron, it was urgent, needy, desperate, brutal. and despite feeling all of those things at once, you grasped onto each other and never picked up the pace, clammy hands and warm skin, quiet groans and pounding hearts.

“ronnie, i wanna ride you.” you mumbled against his lips, as he allowed you to ease off him, finally straddling his hips once he was slouched against the headboard. you lazily rocked your hips against his, dragging your soaked folds over his shaft, finally letting up and sliding onto his cock once he pinched at your hips and gave you a desperate look.

“fuck, y/n. so tight around me, riding me like that.” he groaned, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, head buried in the crook of it, bouncing steadily and moaning every time the new position made the thick head of his cock hit your g-spot.

“i love you.” you groaned, hips meeting his and no longer bouncing, just rocking back and forth, rolling your hips against his slowly.

“i love you too. so fucking much. never wanna leave you.”

“don’t.” you sniffled again, eyes filling with tears once more.

“i don’t want to.” you began riding him properly again, slowly, as he met your thrusts, rutting up into you. the crack in his voice was evident, and you avoided sobbing again by pressing your head even further into his neck, kissing the pale skin softly.

moaning, you bit your bottom lip, “i’m gonna cum, baby.”

“cum for me.” he breathed as you obliged (without much choice), body twitching as your orgasm washed over you powerfully, eyes screwed shut, thighs squeezing against his.

sensitive, he kept rocking up into you slowly, shallow moans building up from the back of his throat, voice raspy, “gonna cum, shit.”

you felt the sudden warmth as he pumped load after load of cum into you, and you kept your eyes closed, holding onto ron tighter than you thought possible as his trembling hands caressed your waist.

“can we stay like this, a sec’?”

his cock began to soften inside you, and he mumbled against your shoulder after a moment, “yeah.”

so you just held each other, breathing and hearts slowing down.

you mumbled into his neck. “promise you’ll be safe?”

you could feel him smile softly against your shoulder.

“if it means coming back to you? i promise.“

Ron Weasley Imagine

Short n’ Sweet with Ron.

Prompt by me: Water the plants with Ron Weasley.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡┈┈☂︎┈┈┈☂︎┈┈⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆

Heading down the stone corridors of the castle knowing it was that time of day when you meet Ron. Walking into a little sunroom kept on the fourth floor by professor sprout. You did it more as a hobby then anything else when you asked professor if you could do it.

Setting your bag down knowing he would be late like always because of his twin. Getting to work, there was never much to do anyways. He would accompany you because it never took much time during free period. It was relaxing. You loved the feeling and look of the watering can so you always did it by hand. It never felt right using magic.

Ron would walk in and sit in the corner trying not to bother you. He loved the way you leaned over the plants whispering words to them. Words of encouragement or just how your day went. He could appreciate you fully silently when you watered plants. He could never get enough.

When you finally noticed him, you would run over to jump into his arms and he swirl you around in his arms. Your guys robes would swish around and he would bury himself in your neck breathing in your scent as you bury yours into his ginger hair. When he would pull back from your neck, he would notice some dirt that made its way on your cheek and use his thumb to rub it away. Kissing it afterwards.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡┈┈☂︎┈┈┈☂︎┈┈⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆

Please don’t take my work or post it anywhere!