Eros & Psyche Chapter 2C: Ron & Pansy, a harry potter fanfic

CONTEST WINNER THIS CHAPTER: User El-El-El recommended the song, "Crashed" by Daughtry for Ron & Pansy this go around, and I thought it a perfect complement to Ron's thoughts here. So, this chapter is dedicated to El-El-El - congratulations! Lyrics for that song appear at the bottom of this chapter. Hope you'll find this song somehow and give it a listen.

Remember, I'll accept song suggestions for each couple, as well as digitally manipulated images of live people and your original hand-drawn or digitally drawn fanart for this story up until the end of this fic is published. SEND ME YOUR LISTS OR ARTWORK! I'll pick my favourites, and reward you, as promised!

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CHAPTER TWO (#3): RON & PANSY

As soon as they entered the room, Pansy scoffed. "Oh, hell no," she stated rather emphatically and with a thought, changed the entire room. Gone was the square bed. In its place, a simple rug lay on the floor. No pillows, no comfort. "No one will be enjoying this," she told him rather flatly.

Gritting his jaw at her imperious tone of voice and her grating attitude, Ron narrowed his eyes. "Fine by me, baby doll. It's not like I wanted any of this anyway."

"Forfeit then," she challenged with a malicious smirk.

"You forfeit!" he countered back, clenching his fists at his side, reminding himself how much bigger he was than her, and that if he smacked her on the snoot—as he was aching to do—he would hurt her. Ron didn't like hurting girls. It was his number one rule: no hitting a girl, ever. He'd never done it, even in Quidditch (it's why he'd picked the position of Keeper – because the contact with other players was limited physically, and the majority of his time was spent on blocking Quaffles lobbed at the goals or Bludgers aimed at his head).

"Never!" Parkinson hissed at him, her fists equally clenched. "You'd just love to see me quit, I'm sure, but you can choke on it, Weasley. I will never give in to the likes of someone like you!"

Smirking, Ron stepped closer. "We'll see about that." He flipped his card up and taunted her by not showing her the Deed on the other side, letting her imagination run wild. "So, shall we get to it? We haven't got all night, you know."

Fuming mad, Pansy stomped over to the little scrap of fabric she'd put on the floor and crossed her arms. "I drew first, but I'd rather not touch you yet. Have to work my way up. You go."

"Why? So you can get the last laugh on me? Forget it, Parkinson. You go first," he challenged.

Smirking just as viciously at him as he had at her, she read off her card:

DEED: You get to go down on your partner. Have fun!

Ron blanched. She was going to bite his dick off. That shark-like grin with those little, sharp teeth promised it.

OH, FUCKING HELL!

Unless… He looked across at Slytherin's Bitch Queen and was inspired. If he didn't make his card unpleasant for her, perhaps she'd be less inclined to make her card unpleasant for him. Besides, he thought, as he read his card again, maybe he could even knock her off her pedestal as 'Mione had suggested earlier this week…

"Parkinson? Perfect. I'd love to see her squirm for one of you, too. How galling would it be to her pride for any one of you three to touch her 'precious pureblood limbs,' much less make her squirm under your mouths and hands?"

Yeah, good plan, that. He could really work her up with his card, pretend it wasn't so bad and he liked it even. Maybe charm her in the doing. Then, she'd be more willing to go easy on him. Or maybe even run off scared (despite her vow of two seconds ago not to be outdone by him).

It was a workable plan. A potentially fun plan. A very Slytherin-like plan.

HA! He'd use Parkinson's own way of playing against her. He'd beat her using her own tactics!

"Forget it. I'll go first," he insisted, and read his card aloud to her:

DEED: Lick the beverage or food of your choice off your partner's body.

As he'd expected, his partner balked, but after a minute of letting her pace back and forth, swearing, he finally put his foot down. "Either forfeit or take the dress off," he said in the most even voice he could muster. "It's too pretty to ruin."

She stopped on a dime and looked up at him like he'd gone daft.

"Or, I could just get chocolate sauce all over it," he offered instead. "If you don't mind, that is."

Snarling, she reached around and pulled down the zipper of her dress. It was an awfully loud, rather ominous sound in the quiet, bare room, and sweat broke out on his upper lip unexpectedly. With a shrug of her shoulders, the straps fell and then the dress was pooling at her feet.

Circe's holy tits!

Her strapless bra and lacy black panties with the garters that attached to lacy, sheer black thigh-highs covered her so that no hint of nipple or bush was visible, but the rest of her mouth-watering body was fully exposed to his gaze, and for the first time, Ron had an opportunity to see what really had lain under Parkinson's robes. Large C-cup breasts, long torso that was peachy-golden, flat tummy with a tiny bump at the bottom to give it a nice rounding out, hips that were wide enough to want to grab onto as you thrust away, and long, toned legs. He even thought her belly button pretty.

"Take a picture, you lecher," she scowled. "It'll last longer." With that, she lay down on the floor, resigned, staring up at the ceiling with jaw tightly snapped shut.

If she wasn't such a shrew, he might actually think Pansy Parkinson quite a beauty. Too bad she was a raving harpy with a foul mouth, though.

Removing his jacket and summoning a chair to lay it over (he wasn't going to throw it on the floor, carpet or no carpet), he then thought up what single food item he'd most like to lick off that smooth, untouchable skin of hers. The perfect idea came to him, and into his hand popped a bowl of fluffy dairy product – his favourite. Parkinson snorted.

"Original, Weasley," she snidely commented. "Really original. Whipping cream."

Scooping up some with two fingers, he put it to her lips and smirked. "Not just any whipping cream, sweet cakes." He smeared it all over her darkly-tinted mouth. "Strawberry heavy whipping cream." She sputtered in reaction, and as soon as her lips parted, he thrust a finger in. "Try some."

She bit him and growled, but not hard enough to hurt, just to warn him off. A half-second later, her eyes widened and she let him go. He removed his fingers and licked his lips, knowing she'd had a taste of the lightly sweet, fruity cream.

As if cued by his action, she mimicked him, and swept the cream off her mouth with a flick of her pink tongue, then hummed in surprise. "Not bad, I suppose," she grudgingly approved. "At least it won't be too sticky."

Suddenly realizing how much fun this actually could be, Ron dipped his fingers back into the bowl and, scooping up a goodly amount of the dessert accompaniment, began smearing it across her belly button. Slytherin's Queen jumped and gasped, then clenched her teeth, trying to pretend disinterest.

Oh, he was going to wipe that indifference away, all right. He was going to make her squirm like a worm on a hook, just as 'Mione had predicted.

Putting the bowl at his side, he leaned over and began lapping the cream off of her body. Within three small strokes of his tongue, he had to reach for more to replenish what he'd taken, and her body shuddered, tightening up. Goosebumps prickled her skin all over now. He took his time licking the second batch off, and then the third, which he smeared up her belly and sternum to the point where the bra cut him off.

His neck was starting to hurt because of the angle. Straddling her body instead, looming over her, he licked and sucked the cream off that tasty, quivering skin of hers. When he looked up, he threw her a seductive smirk. "Yum," he said in a deep rumble and made a show of licking his lips again.

For her part, Pansy was trying not to look affected, but a blush was staining both cheeks and up her throat now, and her dark eyes were a little too wide. Her breathing had also picked up some. He thought, looking down on her, that she was rather lovely this way. Pushing her boundaries was definitely turning out to be a lot more enjoyable than he'd expected.

Smearing cream across her collar, breastbone and throat, he slowly laved and suckled his way up her skin. She turned her head when he got too close to her lips. "Thanks," he cheerfully offered. "Better access."

Closing her eyes, Parkinson was clearly trying to pretend that this whole humiliating thing was just going to go away. Oh, no, you little snake, he thought, I plan to lick strawberry off your 'strawberry creams'... and there's still your card to do after this. We're not done by a long-shot, baby doll.

He daubed more over her pulse point and nibbled, and finally got a reaction worth remembering: she gasped, and then bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Feel good?" he whispered in her ear with a sinful snicker.

"Hardly. I'm trying not to vomit all over myself," she snapped back, her tone bitter.

"Hmmm… really?" he asked, licking again, "because you taste kicking delicious to me."

She growled again.

Merlin, that was a cute sound!

"Pervert!" she snarled.

Ron chuckled, smearing cream over her cheek and jaw, sucking and licking his way closer to her mouth. She tried very hard to refuse him, but this was his card, and he wasn't going to let her deny him anything he wanted. Cupping her jaw and turning her head, he had to remind her again that she had to submit or forfeit – which earned him the blackest, most hateful look he'd ever received.

"If you dare put your mouth over mine–" she began, but he cut her off by covering her lips with sugary goodness. Staring her in the eye, he leaned in for the kill. Parkinson actually whimpered, her expression changing from one of hatred to fear in an instant. "Don't!"

"You're going to suck my cock in less than fifteen minutes and you're worried about a kiss?" he asked, a bit incredulous. It was only a kiss. What was the big deal?

Her face flushed, turned white, and then the anger was back. "I hate you, Ronald Weasley," she spat.

Licking his lips, he grinned. "Back at you, Parkinson," he mocked. "Not too novel a sentiment on your side, though. Heard it before – a million times, in fact. Can't come up with another way to say you loathe my guts, hmmm?"

He moved off then, not removing the cream from her mouth, scooting back down her body and pulling her bra down with a yank to both sides. She hissed in astonishment, and threw her hands over her exposed breasts to cover up. "Nuh-uh, baby doll. Anywhere I want to lick, I get to. Card says so," he cruelly reminded her, taking delight from her discomfort. "Since you're going down on me in a few, I figured it might be fun to sample you as well."

Gently, he pried her hands off her chest and took a good, long look. Bloody hell, her tits were beautiful, too! Dark purple areolas, perfectly shaped, big nipples. They were breasts made for snacking.

He smeared cream all over them and dipped his head downwards. When his lips came into contact with a taut bud, he twined his tongue around it, bringing it to full prominence. Parkinson cried out, but stifled the pleasure-filled gasp with the back of her hand. She covered her mouth to keep her reactions as quiet as possible, trying to deny that what he was doing to her was actually enjoyable.

He licked, circled, and flicked her nipples one at a time, making them hard, excited points, and when that wasn't enough for him, he wrapped his lips around each one and sucked – hard. Beneath him, his partner shuddered, squirmed, and moaned with arousal. The sound shot straight into his pants, making his prick as solid as an iron bar and causing his bollocks to tighten with need. He reacted by suckling harder and gripping a nipple between his teeth, gently tugging on it as he pulled back.

Another series of deep moans were dragged from his partner's throat as he dipped to the other nipple for an instant replay, and her hands were suddenly gripping the sides of his thighs, her sharp, painted fingernails digging into him. Her back arched, thrusting her breasts forward, giving him permission to keep going.

Man, this was seriously turning him on! Like, to the point where he wanted to shag Parkinson until she got rug burns on that pretty arse of hers, not caring that they couldn't stand each other. It was time to take back a bit of control over the situation before he lost his mind and became the seduced, rather than the seducer.

Trailing cream up her throat, he followed the path with his tongue and lips. "Are you sure you don't want me to kiss you?" he teased as he hovered over the shell of her ear. "Or maybe… you want me to put my lips somewhere else?" His fingers trailed down her hip to the crease of her knickers as he sucked on her throat. "What do you think, Parkinson? Shall I make you come before you make me?"

"You're a Gryffindor," she accused him, her whole body shaking with fury and unwanted desire, her nails digging harder into his thighs. "You're not supposed to be this cruel."

He snickered. "I take that as a 'yes,' then."

With that, he slipped down her body, tonguing her as he went, careful to put cream in his path so he wouldn't violate the card's requirements. When he got to her knickers, he released the garters and slipped the whole set down her hips. Parkinson wasn't going to make it easy for him, though. She refused to lift her bum, so he had to pull her knicks down harder than he'd wanted, stripping them from her ankles after a bit of a wrestle, leaving her stockings and heels in place as he spread her thighs apart.

Merlin's balls, was there any place on Pansy Parkinson that wasn't physical perfection?

Dark, neatly trimmed curls were damp with her arousal, and she had a tiny beauty mole on her left front hip that just begged for kissing. He dragged the bowl of whipped delight closer to him and dipped his fingers in. Slowly and with a light touch, he brought them between her lower lips, separating the flesh, coating it with sugary goodness.

Slytherin's Queen cried out, and released him to bite the back of her hand again, but she made no other protest.

If she really hated this, why didn't she just quit? "Will you forfeit?" he asked softly, running his cream-coated fingernails over her clit. "I'll stop now if you want. Just say it."

She glanced down her body at him, her chest heaving up and down in quick succession, and slowly bent her knees, opening herself up to him. "If you stop now, Weasley, I'll bite your dick off for sure when it's my turn, and to hell with the rules," she promised him.

He tore his gaze from her pussy and looked up into her face… and finally saw what she'd been holding back: lust for him, heady and strong in her sparkling, dark eyes. Pansy Parkinson wanted him.

His brain switched off, and the game suddenly didn't matter anymore. Damn the consequences, he really wanted her back.

Dropping his gaze to focus on her pleasure, he teased the entrance to her quim, rubbing cream all over it and the soft, fleshy lips surrounding it, and used his free hand to encourage her to drop her knees to the sides so she would be wide open for him. She complied without resistance.

He nearly lost his sanity then as he stared straight into the heart of the most perfect pussy he'd ever seen: swollen lips, a button-shaped, engorged clit, dark rosy skin, and a glistening core.

All for him.

A slave to his own lust now, Ron pressed forward, letting his mouth have at her for the first time. He swiped up the middle with a tongue thick with saliva, and pressed a deep, thorough kiss to her centre. "Bloody hell," he swore as he pulled back, licking his lips to capture the salty-lemony-strawberry essence that glossed them. "Shite, you taste so good," he murmured, liking the flavour. He licked her again, pressing his nose into her and inhaling at the same time. "Fuuuuck. That's… oh, man. So good." Throwing her calves over his shoulders, he lifted her hips off the floor, angling his face closer. "Want more," he growled, and set his mouth to the task of devouring her.

Pansy absolutely wailed in pleasure as he latched onto her clit and gave it a good draw. She thrust her pelvis at him in a rocking motion, rubbing her pussy all over his chin and lips. "Yes! Don't stop! Oh, gods, don't you dare stop!" she begged.

Her legs tightened around his neck and she bucked against him with strength, nearly squeezing him to death between her thighs. Ron didn't mind in the least, though; it was actually a serious turn-on for him knowing he could so completely unhinge the Ice Queen of the Hogwarts Dungeon. He continued his ruthless exploration as she quivered all around him, lapping over every inch of her cunnie, sucking her tender flesh into his mouth, and thrusting his tongue deep inside her channel.

Gods, she tasted of perfection as well. And her scent…

Her fingernails scrabbled across the carpet, seeking purchase as he tilted her world upside down and within moments, he made her come so hard that she actually screamed to the ceiling and arched her back until her hips locked straight out. He drank her warm, shuddering orgasm up, muffling his moans into her flesh as he swallowed her delicious essence.

"Let me… at you!" she pleaded, reaching for him as her orgasm released her and she relaxed at last in his grip again. "Damn you, Weasley, I want you! Let me down!"

He raised his head from his feast and lowered her bottom to the floor, scrabbling up her body until only inches separated their mouths. They stared at each other, fast breaths mingling, hearts pounding in a compatible rhythm, dawning realization taking them both away in that moment.

In a flash, she was on him, thrusting her fingers into his hair and pulling him down on top of her, claiming his lips for their first kiss. It was as wild and out of control as they were in that moment, as they equally moaned and gasped around pulls of skin, reveling in the madness of their lust.

Wrapping her legs about his waist, and with strength he didn't think she had, Pansy rolled them to her left and suddenly Ron was underneath her.

"Your turn," she panted.

Flipping around so that her quim was back in his face, she unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, freeing his aching, hard cock from his pants and taking him up in a tight, feminine fist. Fuck, her grip felt good! Watching between their bodies, he caught the whole show as she lowered her mouth onto him, stretching her darkly-rouged lips around his head and sinking low, taking him down her throat in one glorious motion.

Ron lost the last of his marbles at that. He reached for the bowl of cream, smeared it all over her exposed skin, grabbed onto her hips, and lowered her onto his face once more.

They moved in perfect tandem, and Merlin, the witch knew what to do! Parkinson gave him the best blow of his life, her mouth plummeting down to the hilt with each quick downward stroke, creating hard suction that bordered just this side of pain with each upstroke, just as Ron liked. He wasn't a big man, he knew, but he was a decently sized bloke at six inches. Still, she took the whole length of him into the moist cavern of her mouth, licking and sucking at his prick like he was some kind of Honeyduke's lolly. And every time she moaned, it vibrated straight up his shaft, making his sac clench.

For his part, Ron gave as good as he got, utilizing every trick in the book, even running the tip of his tongue over her clit, signing out his name as if to prove to himself that he'd possessed at least this much of her.

Very quickly, they were both on the edge, ready to explode together.

"Parkinson, I'm gonna come!" he warned her. "Pull off if you don't want–"

She sank down low on him again and tickled his base with the bottom of her tongue as she pulled back up. That did it. His knees folded up of their own accord, his back arched off the floor and he roared his pleasure as he released. Pansy took down every drop of him, swallowing convulsively, moaning right along with him. Clearly, she liked his taste, too.

Panting as he released the last of his spurting seed into her warm, wet cavity, he belatedly realized she hadn't found her own fulfillment yet. That just didn't seem quite right to him, especially given what she'd just done to him, so pressing his tongue into her entrance, he fucked her with it again, and played with her clit with his fingers. With a few swipes, he had her moaning, squirming, and tightening up around him as before. "Come on, baby doll," he mumbled, coaxing her, wanting fervently to pleasure her a second time. "Give yourself to me."

Apparently, that was the magic phrase, because Pansy climaxed again, shouting and bowing her back like a cat in heat. Her blissful cry was loud and she was completely uninhibited in that moment… and Ron found that he really dug that. He held her hips still as he greedily drank her up, and when she was finally done convulsing, he placed kisses over her soaked lips, her inflamed clit, and her sopping entrance before letting her go.

As soon as his hands released her, Pansy crawled off of him and to the side, turned away from him. She rolled up into a little ball and started crying.

The sound of her sincere anguish slashed at Ron's heart. What had happened? What had gone wrong? That just shared a mind-blowing experience. They'd both orgasmed really hard and enjoyed it, right? So, what was up with the boo-hooing?

Staring over at his partner's curved, naked spine, sanity returned, bringing with it sickening dread. This was Pansy Parkinson, one of his bitterest rivals, and she'd just allowed him to make her climax twice – she'd begged for it, in fact. And she'd sucked him off and swallowed his come, too, gulping him down with an eagerness that matched his. Fuck, but they'd completely lost their fecking minds there for a few minutes, becoming animals, pawing and biting at each other in desperation! She was probably feeling really embarrassed and very vulnerable right about then as a result. He knew he the hell was!

Sitting up, Ron tucked his tired, flaccid member back into his pants and zipped up his trousers, crawling over to the weeping witch's side, unsure as to what to do now. She had her arms wrapped about her middle, her lids were squeezed tightly shut, and she was sobbing as hard as she had been the morning he'd ran into her in the hallway on his way to Transfiguration. He thought she looked very small and defeated.

A wave of shame swept over him, killing the satisfied buzz he'd had going after coming.

Shite, he'd hurt her. Not physically, but in a much more powerful, terrible manner: he'd toyed with her emotions by using sex as a weapon. Although it had been his intention to teach her a lesson tonight in just such a manner, seeing her like this now… well, it hurt him, too. Facing the consequences of his revenge, Ron knew in that instant that he'd done the wrong thing. A queer need to take responsibility, to comfort the crying woman erupted in his conscience and forced him to act.

Taking a risk, he snuggled up behind Pansy in a spooning position on the floor, and wrapped both arms about her, pulling her slight form against him to both comfort and provide warmth. She didn't resist, but simply cried harder. "I'm sorry that I hurt you," he whispered in her ear, his voice catching slightly as he felt remorse weigh heavily upon his chest. "Merlin, I don't understand any of what just happened, Parkinson, but… gods, you're so fucking beautiful, every bit of you. Did you know?" He pressed a chaste kiss to her throat. "I know you hate me, but… fuck, I loved what we just did! You were abso-bloody-lutely wonderful. I've never come so hard in my life. That was the best I've ever felt. I… I thought you liked it, too. I'm sorry if you didn't."

He held her in silence after that as her crying eventually tapered off. Finally, lying limp in his arms, she sniffed away the last of her sorrow.

"The best? Really?" she asked in a tentative whisper. "Are you lying?"

Ron huffed. "Hell, woman, I could die happy after that. You taste like the sweetest dessert I've ever had and you suck cock better than any fantasy I could dream up. What wasn't there to love about it?"

Parkinson chuckled. "You want to know something funny, Weasley? I've never come so hard in my life either. And twice! I've never done that. I'd be lucky to get it once most of the time."

His ego gave a rousing cheer in his head. At least he'd done something right.

Parkinson turned in his arms and poked him in the chest, giving him an arch look. "But you're not allowed to tell a soul I said that, or I'll hex off your brass ones."

He lifted his hands from around her waist and put them up between them, as if to ward off potential evil. "Yes, ma'am," he automatically replied, having been taught from a young age not to argue with an authoritative woman, if possible.

After that, they lay on the floor, not touching anymore, just looking at each other, measuring up the other's intentions, considering future options.

Would he want to repeat what they'd just done? Hell, yes! If the oral stuff was that good, what would the fucking be like?

The irony of that thought struck him when the chime rang to tell them their time was over and they got up to dress. As he helped her look presentable once more, even going so far as to helping her re-zip her dress and assuring the front chains of the costume hung properly, he realized that his earlier answer to the Interrogations card from the first round had been the truth: he had liked going down on his partner.

No, not just 'liked'. He'd loved it.

Now, wasn't that the hell of it?

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Musical Selection for this Chapter: "Crashed" by Daughtry. Lyrics are as follows…

Well I was moving at the speed of sound.
Head-spinning, couldn't find my way around, and
Didn't know that I was going down.
Yeah, yeah.
Where I've been, well it's all a blur.
What I was looking for, I'm not sure.
Too late and didn't see it coming.
Yeah, yeah.

And then I crashed into you,
And I went up in flames.
Could've been the death of me,
But then you breathed your breath in me.
And I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away.

Somehow, I couldn't stop myself.
I just wanted to know how it felt.
Too strong, I couldn't hold on.
Yeah, yeah.
Now I'm just tryin' to make some sense
Out of how and why this happened.
Where we're heading, there's just no knowing.
Yeah, yeah.

From your face, your eyes
They're burned into me.
You saved me, you gave me
Just what I need.
Oh, just what I need.

And then I crashed into you,
And then I crashed into you,
And then I crashed into you,
And then I crashed into you,
Then I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away.