Chapter 11 – When the Parties Over
Don’t you know too much already?
I’ll only hurt you if you let me
Call me friend but keep me closer
And I’ll call you when the party’s over
Quiet when I’m comin’ home and I’m on my own
And I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
when the party’s over, Billie Eilish
I’m sorry that this chapter is almost entirely smut (but not really sorry). I swear you’ll get more plot coming up soon.
Cassiah awoke to the sound of soft snoring in her room, and she startled a bit. She glanced around quickly but found nobody on her bed. It was until she saw him asleep on her floor that her heart rate calmed again – it was just Ron.
But on her floor, not in her bed next to her, like he had been the last time she’d woken up next to him.
She’d woken up to the soft sensation of gentle fingertips on her hips and a tentative tongue pressing little kitten licks to her core. His fingers were always so warm, and she felt him squeeze into the thick flesh of her hips appreciatively.
He ran his tongue in a circle over her most sensitive bundle of nerves and she shivered, letting out a quiet “ah” and leaning further into his touch.
“Good morning, baby,” she heard Ron murmur from under the sheet, his voice thick and raspy with sleep in a way that made her hot all over. Merlin, she loved it when he called her that. It was a nickname only reserved for sex, and it sounded so sinful coming from between his lips.
She wanted to say something back, but he’d buried his face back between her legs and she couldn’t form words. He sucked her clit into his mouth, and she let out a broken moan so filthy that it made him groan against her in return, the vibrations from his sound only torturing her further.
“That’s my good girl,” Ron whispered against her and Cassiah arched her back at his ministrations. He was so talented with his tongue and the best part was knowing how much he loved doing it. She guessed that shouldn’t be too much a surprise. Everyone knew how much Ron loved to eat.
He couldn’t even wait for her to wake up to get a taste of her, and the idea of that drove her absolutely mental. He’d probably woken up already hard and leaking for her.
He lapped at her entrance, pushing his tongue inside her tight walls, and used his thumb to draw quick circles over her clit. He’d only started touching her a little over a minute ago and she was already so close. She was pretty sure that if he stopped, she’d cry.
Ron moved his mouth back up to her clit and began licking and sucking faster over her. She closed her legs around his head, trying to get him as close as possible, and buried her hands in his messy red hair. He whimpered and said in between strokes of his tongue, “I love it when you’re so desperate for me, Cassie. Crushing my head in between your sexy thighs. Tell me how good I make you feel, baby.”
“So good, Ron,” she panted, her voice high pitched and barely above a whisper, “No one makes me feel this good but you.” She knew he loved to hear how she was all his for the taking and how no one could fuck her good as he did.
Ron teased two fingers at her entrance before slowly pushing them in, stretching her, all well never letting up with his tongue. She gasped at the sudden pressure.
“Merlin, you’re so fucking wet for me, Cassie,” Ron moaned, curling his fingers to hit just the right spot and causing Cassiah to cry out loudly. “...Dripping all over me. I want you to come for me,” he urged, quickening the pace with his fingers.
“Ron,” she chanted, feeling the hot pressure build in her core and knowing that she was close, “Don’t stop, please, just keep doing that.”
Ron didn’t let up the torture on her clit or the pounding on her g spot. The sheets had long since been pushed out of the way and he looked up at her, his big blue eyes sinful as he licked a thick stripe over her. “Come for me,” he demanded, and at that, she snapped, her back arching and legs thrashing as she came.
He didn’t let up even as her legs shook, replacing his mouth with her thumb and drawing quick circles over her. She let him go for a minute until she couldn’t take the overstimulation anymore, pushing him away and chanting, “Oh, God” over and over and over.
Ron crawled back up to her face, grinning ear to ear with pride. His face was coated in her juices and she moaned again quietly at the sight, circling her hips for friction. He looked so filthy, she wanted to kiss the little smirk off his face.
She grabbed him by the back of the head, kneading her fingers through his hair, and capturing his lips and a messy, desperate kiss.
“Are you ready for me now?” he asked against her mouth, grinding his hips against hers, “I need you so bad, baby.”
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding assuredly. She could feel his thick length pressing against her side and it made her core flutter. She’d known that Ron wouldn’t be finished with her after making her come just once. He always ate her out before fucking her, making sure she was soaking and shaking before pushing into her.
Ron picked up Cassiah’s legs and heaved them over his shoulders with such ease that she shuddered. She always forgot how strong he was until they were in bed together, when he would get dominant and take whatever he wanted. She locked her legs behind his head, begging for him to push into her. He guided his tip through her folds, coating it in her slick.
“Fuck me, Ron,” she whined, “Please, fuck me.”
“You want me to fuck you?” Ron questioned, still teasing at her entrance, rubbing his tip over her clit and making her gasp. “You want me to make you scream my name?”
“Yes, please,” she was begging now, desperate to feel him inside her.
Without another word, Ron pushed into her, stretching her so she felt every single inch before bottoming out. They both groaned in harmony.
“Merlin, you’re so tight and wet,” he said.
“Do it again,” Cassiah chanted, “I love it so much.”
Ron pulled all the way out and slowly pushing back in, letting her feel him press against every part of her in the most delicious way. She let out a low dreamy, “Ohhh, Ron,” and circled her hips against his.
He started with a relentless pace, hiking her legs even higher over his shoulders so that he could fuck into her a deeply as possible. He was rewarded with her high-pitched cries that never seemed to stop. She was a mess for him, and she knew he loved it.
When she let out a particularly sinful moan, he responded with a harsh spank to her arse, and she moaned even louder.
“That’s my girl,” he praised, “I love how bad you are for me. Just for me. Want me to spank you again?”
Cassiah couldn’t form words, she was too busy crying out his name, and getting the wind knocked out of her, but her whines and whimpers were enough of a “yes” for Ron to know what she wanted. He delivered three more smacks to her backside, and then massaged the red, hot skin he left behind with his big, meaty hands. “I love seeing my handprint on your arse,” he murmured, giving her a squeeze and picking back up with his brutal thrusts.
“Ron, I’m gonna,” she panted, “I’m gonna– Again.” She could barely form a coherent thought. The pressure of his cock sliding against all the right places was too good.
“Come, Cassie,” he said, “Come with me.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Immediately, she was overcome with waves of pleasure and release, and the squeezing of her tights walls around Ron pulled him right over the edge with her.
“That’s my good girl,” Ron was praising her, collapsed on top of her and running a hand through her long, brown hair. Cassiah loved the feeling of his warm chest on top of hers. This was her paradise, her safe place. She reached out to wrap her arms and legs around him, holding him close and they caught their breaths.
Cassiah found her core aching at the memory. She glanced over at Ron, who was still sleeping soundly on the floor, his chest rising and falling.
She needed him so badly, but she couldn’t have him. And she couldn’t do anything about it herself either. Wouldn’t it be wrong for her to touch herself to the thought of her ex?
She considered. There was no way that Ron hadn’t jerked off the idea of her post-breakup. First of all, he was a guy, and second of all, he was Ron. She might as well call it even...
Cassiah let her hand slip under the band of her sweatpants and the lace of her panties, teasing softly over her own folds. She shuddered slightly at her own touch, remembering how it had felt to have Ron be so rough with her.
The moment didn’t last long though. She heard rustling coming from the ground next to her, and a sleepy Ron calling out, “Cassie? Are you awake?”
Merlin, his morning voice. It sounded like sex itself.
She quickly removed her hand from her pants and sat up in bed to face him. He couldn’t have known what she was doing. He couldn’t see anything from down there, anyway. It was a coincidence.
“Yeah, I am,” she replied, trying to calm her voice. So what if she was about to get off to the memory of Ron? She could be cool about this. He never had to know. “You decided to crash on the floor?”
“You don’t remember the walk home?” Ron countered, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he sat up on the carpet and pushed the spare comforter off of himself.
“You know I usually don’t,” chided Cassiah, now sitting up herself.
Ron chuckled to himself, raising his hands to surrender that she was right. He yawned lightly. “I’m sorry about ruining your hookup for you last night. I wasn’t trying to be possessive or anything, we were just both drunk and I wanted to make sure you were oka–”
“Ron, seriously,” Cassiah reassured him, rising out of her bed and putting her feet into her slippers before sitting back down, “I believe you. And I definitely was too drunk, so... Thanks, for realizing,” she said, blushing and ducking her head in embarrassment.
“I’ll always make sure you’re okay, Cassie,” he said simply with a small smile.
He had no idea how much pain that one sentence hurt her – a sentence she was sure he had meant to be kind. But that was what he had said to her the day he left her: If you ever need me, you know I’ll be there. That was the most painful thing she had ever heard, and now here she was, hearing it again.
“I know,” she replied, not wanting to discuss it further. “Do you want to go get breakfast? I’m sure everyone’s already heading down to the hall.”
“Merlin, I thought you’d never ask,” Ron groaned, placing a hand on his stomach, “I could eat a horse. Or two. Please, let’s go.”
Cassiah giggled at that, but also knew that it was most likely true. She’d never seen someone eat like Ron Weasley. She swore he had a hollow leg.
The two of them headed down to the dining hall to meet up with all of their friends at the Gryffindor table. Thankfully, everyone was arriving from different places at the same times – Dean from the Hufflepuff dorms, Fred apparently also from Slytherin where he’d gone home with some girl – so no one noticed that Cassiah and Ron were arriving together.
Fred and George both looked like hell, and so did Seamus. Cassiah found herself feeling thankful that she’d woken up without a hangover. It seemed that Ron, Dean, and Harry were similarly lucky. She also noticed that Neville was nowhere to be found, and when she looked around the hall, neither was Luna. She smiled knowingly to herself.
“Merlin, Ron, just watching you eat all that is gonna make me hurl,” Seamus complained, rubbing his temples. Cassiah looked over, and sure enough, Ron’s plate was already piled high with pancakes and eggs and sausages and the lot. He was tearing into it messily, complete with a bit of syrup on the side of his mouth. Cassiah wanted to kiss it off.
“Wha?” Ron mumbled incredulously through a mouthful of cornbread, “I’m hungry. Sorry that I’m not hungover, Finnigan.”
“Ronnie’s just built different,” George supplied, jokingly messing up his brother’s hair. Ron scowled at him. “Anyways,” he continued, “Fred, where did you disappear to last night?”
Fred looked up from his coffee with a smug smirk on his face, “Down in the Slytherin dungeons. That’s all you wanna know.”
“Gross,” Dean wrinkled his nose and Ron nodded aggressively in agreement.
“So,” Fred continued, “Before we woke up massively hungover, Georgie and I had planned on playing a little pick-up Quidditch if any of you are still interested?”
Everyone in the group agreed to it, even Cassiah, who usually would shy away from sports. It was going to be pretty low-stakes, and they assured her that she could just fly around on a broom if she really felt like it. That was enough of a sell for her. Plus, she’d get to watch Ron play up close.
No. She had to stop thinking like that. She’d seen him flirting with other girls last night, and she’d make a promise to herself that she’d stop trying to win him back. She had to respect his wishes to just be friends. But, she supposed, that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the view?
The said “view” right now was polishing a second, or more likely third, plate of breakfast food and sopping up the extra syrup and jam with a piece of toast. He leaned back in his chair, clutching his stomach and muffling a belch with his fist. Why was it cute and endearing when he did it? Watching anybody consume that sheer volume of fat and carbs should make her feel physically sick. But it was Ron, and this was how he was, and she loved him for it.
“Merlin, that last pancake was definitely a mistake,” he announced to the group, “I’m definitely going to need a nap before we play, lads.”
“Whatever, Weasley,” Seamus rolled his eyes, still grumpy from his presumed hangover, “Why don’t we meet around noon down at the Quidditch pitch?”
“Let’s raise the stakes,” George said with an evil glint in his eye that Cassiah knew all too well.
“H-how?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer. The group fell silent, considering, until Fred broke into the most devious grin Cassiah had ever seen.
“I don’t like that face,” she murmured to Ron, who nodded in agreement as he sipped his orange juice.
Fred wiggled his eyebrows. “Losing team jumps into the Great Lake.”
Cassiah felt her body relax when she heard his words. That was so much more benign than she thought it was going to be.
Cassiah showed up to the Quidditch Pitch with her hair in a braid down her back and Ron immediately knew his concentration was fucked. She looked so effortlessly beautiful in her sweater and her leggings, which cupped her backside perfectly. But it was the hairstyle that really had him screwed. He had vivid memories of her braiding her hair like that and then giving him mind-blowing head. He felt his dick give a weak twitch in his pants and he willed it away. Bloody hell.
“Hey boys,” she said casually as she approached, “Who’s ready to play some Quidditch?”
His heart melted. Even the way she held her broom was cute. It was obvious she wasn’t used to carrying one, let alone maneuvering her way around one. Here she was, though, ready to play.
Ron wasn’t nervous about the little scrimmage. They’d pulled teams, and even with Cassiah on his team, he still thought they were set up to win. It was him, Dean, Harry, and Cassiah against Fred, George, Seamus, and Neville. Sure, Cassiah was a bit of a liability, but the twins were surely out of practice after not being at school for a year, and Ron nearly doubled Seamus in size. Dean himself was pretty decent. But what really mattered was the combination of him and Harry. Harry was an amazing flyer, and quite honestly, in the past few months, Ron had really bloomed as a Quidditch player. At this point, he was easily better than Harry and definitely stronger. He was probably the best player at Hogwarts, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud.
In short, he was planning to show off, and everybody else on the team should just stay out of his and Harry’s way.
The match started and Ron immediately started out rough, barreling straight towards Fred and nearly knocking him off his broom in his mission to get the ball. As a team, he and Harry scored goal after goal and didn’t let a single one in. Dean even got in on it a little bit. Merlin, Ron loved the feeling of playing Quidditch. It made him feel so good about himself.
They were probably halfway through the match when he saw Cassiah fly by, a little shaky on her broom. He couldn’t help but notice the defeated look on her face and the way she hung her head a bit.
Ron didn’t even notice the ball soaring towards him until it had hit him straight in the gut. He grunted and grabbed it, whipping it uncharacteristically aimlessly in any direction. He couldn’t get the image of Cassiah’s sad face out of his face. Sure, he wanted to win the game, but...
“Time out!” he called gruffly, his voice carrying throughout the pitch. Everyone looked at him, confused, but he ignored it and gathered his teammates around.
“What’s the problem, Weasley?” Dean questioned, “We’re winning by a longshot.”
Ron noticed that Cassiah was watching him with big, expecting eyes. It was clear to him how uncomfortable and out of place she felt, and he couldn’t stand to see any of his friends looking like that, let alone her.
“I just think we ought to let everyone get a little action,” he explained with a shrug, “I mean, we’re far enough ahead that it should be fine.”
“Weasley, I don’t want to have to strip naked–”
“Obviously, Dean,” Ron countered, growing frustrated, “Just– Let me show Cassiah a few things.”
Cassiah looked at him, blushing at having to be tutored, but also clearly very relieved and thankful to be included. “Thanks, Ron,” she said quietly.
“Course,” he replied with a crooked smile, “So when we break, you stick with me, Cassie. Harry and Dean will run defense.”
The game came roaring back to life and Ron made sure to keep a slower pace, letting Cassiah keep up with him to ride along his side. The other players whizzed past them, creating a wind that blew through their hair, but he ignored the itch to go knock them off their brooms. It wasn’t all about showing off, after all.
“Wait here,” he told her, and she giggled,
“Where would I go?”
He took off after Seamus, swerving to intersect a pass and grabbing the ball out of the air. He circled back around the Cassiah, dodging both of his brothers in the process. He tossed her the ball gently, and she caught it, her eyes big and questioning. God, those hazel eyes.
“What am I supposed to do with this?!” she cried, completely bewildered.
“Shoot!” Ron responded with a chuckle. When she didn’t move, he flew a bit closer to her to come behind her.
“I’m gonna miss, Ron,” she admittedly defeatedly, “You should just do it.”
He shook his head, “No. Here, I’ll even line the shot up for you.”
He tried to ignore how he heard cheering and scoring happening on the other side of the field. Everyone was pretty much ignoring him and Cassiah.
Ron flew right up behind Cassiah and took hold of both of her arms, gently positioning them to line up the shot for her. Loose hairs from her braid tickled his nose and he inhaled, breathing in her soft, lavender smell. He was so close to her he could feel the warmth radiating off of her skin.
“Okay, if you throw it as hard as you can from here, I promise it will go in,” he reassured, knowing that she was afraid of embarrassing herself in front of everyone. He was just proud that she was playing at all. If she’d done this when they were dating, he would’ve gone mental. His favorite girl playing his favorite sport. That obviously wasn’t the case anymore, though, he reminded himself. He was just happy to see his friend letting go of some of her anxiety.
Cassiah wound up and, as instructed, threw the ball as hard as she could. As promised, it soared through the hoops and counted as a goal.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked with excitement, “I did it!”
“You did it!” Ron crowed, giving her shoulder a squeeze, “I told you!”
It was so worth all of the extra work just to see how excited she was, in comparison to how defeated and upset she had been earlier.
“Bloody fucking hell!” he heard from across the field. He and Cassiah both turned, startled out of their reverie. Dean was throwing down his hat angrily and Harry was running a distressed hand through his hair.
Ron looked at the scoreboard, which had been magically keeping count of the goals. He gulped.
Fred and George had scored a lot without Ron there to fend them off.
So much that they’d actually come back and won the game.
He and Cassiah flew over to the others, who were either celebrating or pouting, respectively.
“Hope it was worth it trying to get your dick wet, mate,” Harry muttered angrily in Ron’s ear.
“Shut up, Harry, I was just trying to be a good friend,” Ron sputtered defensively.
Fred and George were celebrating the loudest, excited to watch the other act out their punishment for losing and make fun of them for it.
“Alright, get to it!” George smirked, gesturing at the lake looming just a little way in the distance.
Ron glanced over at Cassiah, who looked surprisingly calm. He, however, felt sick. He hadn’t considered before that the losing team having to skinny-dip might include Cassiah. He didn’t want everyone seeing her naked. Sure, he wasn’t his girlfriend, but she was his ex, and he knew what she looked like. He knew how good she looked naked. He didn’t want everyone else to get to know, too.
“I dunno, lads, I’m a little bloated today. M’not looking my best. Maybe we should save the stripping for another time,” Ron tried to joke his way out of it, but no one was having it.
The four of them made their way down to the dock like they had been given a death sentence. They knew the water waiting for them was cold, and it was humiliating to have to jump in naked. But these were the terms they’d agreed to – that was before, though, when Ron had planned on winning awesomely and not getting distracted. It had still been kind of worth it though to see Cassiah so happy, even just for a few seconds.
And now, in a few seconds, he was going to be naked in front of Cassiah again. Something so familiar, so comfortable, and yet also everything but familiar and comfortable at the same time.
Harry and Dean stripped down quickly, earning a few wolf-whistles from the others, before diving into the lake as quickly as humanly possible. Ron vaguely recognized the sound of Harry swearing about how cold it was.
He looked over at Cassiah, who was looking at anything but him. He supposed he should probably do the same. He couldn’t believe this was happening – him and Cassiah. Naked.
Ron gulped and reached down to take off his shoes.