opposites attract ~ ron weasley x oc

artiste

*smut warning*

It had been a couple of days since Ron had become familiar with corn on the cob. He and I were getting on surprisingly well (which did panic me slightly). We had a couple of nights together since the incident, both of us using our time together as a moment to talk about the day and stuff that was bothering us. It was nice, I would lay on his chest talking about my friend's sex lives as he admired my tits from the angle he was sat.

However, our time was slowly coming to an end for a while as the spring holiday approached. Tracey had been going on about it for a while, gloating that she was finally going to meet one of her hookups as Cedric followed suit. They were a weird fucking couple that's for sure, but it definitely worked for them.

"What're you thinking about?" Ron asked, as I sat on top of my bed not wanting to start the packing that I most definitely needed to begin.

"Nothing," I smiled "Why'd you ask?"

"Because you have your weird concentration face on where you look like you're taking a shit" he chuckled as I turned to face him with a raised brow.

"You're acting awfully bold for someone that still needs help with their spring packing"

"Says the girl that invited me over here to clean for her"

"Only because I thought you would look cute in a maid outfit"

He laughed as I sent a cheesy smirk his direction.

Slowly I made my way over to him at the head of the bed, taking my time as his face turned a deep red. Times like this were becoming a lot less rare between us, he would say something rude, it would turn into flirting and more often than not one of us would be leaving awfully satisfied.

However, this time he wouldn't be leaving so lucky.

"Not yet Weasley, you haven't even put the maid outfit on yet" I teased, my face close to his.

"Where the bloody hell is that outfit then?" he called out in urgency, pushing himself off the bed slightly in preparation.

"It was a metaphor," he groaned "you truly thought I had a maid outfit handy?"

"I wasn't sure,"

"But, if you do clean at least one thing on my side or pack my bag in the slightest I may honour you the pleasure of being in my company longer than if you don't"

It was those words that made him break away finally. He opened my closet with the most bashful and determined face I had ever seen him carry and began throwing the many clothes I had stuffed inside into my bag.

"Woah! I didn't say you could just throw everything in there!" I shouted, jumping up from the bed in panic.

"We'll get it done fifty times quicker if we just chuck everything in" he said, continuing to bundle up clothes and shoes in his hands.

"You dare" I warned, as he brought his readied hands down.

"Since when were there so many rules for packing?" he asked in clear discomfort, the amount of stuff in his hands proving to be rather heavy.

"I need to fold them otherwise they'll get wrinkly, did your mother not teach you a thing?" I asked him as he chucked the clothes onto my bed instead of in the suitcase.

"She taught me how to make a pie but the folding thing was clearly missed"

"Probably because she assumed you had a higher level of intelligence" I laughed, him punching my arm lightly at the insult.