Title: One Woman and One Man
Rating: NC-17 I think
Pairing(s): Molly/Arthur
Word Count: 1,519
Warnings: Vanilla sex and love
Authors notes: I don't own them. JK Rowling does.
“Mollywobbles?”
I can see Arthur out of the corner of my eye, nervous and twitchy but I can’t be too bothered with the smell of clean grass is bearing its full weight into me. We’re lying on the grass by the lake, the sun beating down on us with a light spring breeze and it’s everything I’ve wanted in a day like this.
So I just burrow my nose into his shoulder, ignoring my odd angle. I do hope it’s answer enough.
“Are you paying attention?” I crinkle my nose against the freckles of his neck and lazily press my lips against him. He’s always so warm; my fingers feel like they are catching flame as they dance up his arm to draw circles around his elbow.
“Molly, this is serious!” But I chuckle and un-tuck his white, button up shirt with my hands and move quickly to play with the trail of hair that disappears into his jeans. If I close my eyes hard enough I can picture the freckles that litter his chest and the way his flat but muscle-less stomach seems to ripple under my attack.
“Please stop.” But I’ve taken to his collar bone now, flicking my tongue across it and dipping into the hole where they meet until he moans and twitches slightly. I love to play this game when Arthur is going on about some muggle invention, I do respect him and his passion, but he can get carried away. So I find out how long it takes him to lose his train of thought and give up entirely to my advances.
“Honestly, witch! We’re-“ I’ve cut him off, my fingers dipping beneath his waist band while the other hand is twirling a pale pink nipple in between my fingers. I’m sure he was going to say how we were in public or how whatever he was trying to say was devastatingly important but we all know that a war is starting, everyone can feel it even if they are ignoring it and time spent in peace without worrying, which is precisely what I do, is hard to come by. The lake is peaceful, being with Arthur is peaceful.
Which is exactly why I shift positions, abroad his lanky form and letting my hair create a shield from the rest of the world. His blue eyes look nervous and a bit scandalized, sometimes I still wonder if he believes I’m truly his. I can feel the grin on my face as I press kisses to his face, slowly letting my hips rotate against his. I can see the flush begin to rise on his cheeks, even before I place a hard and clearly indicative kiss on his lips.
“Arthur dear, what if I don’t want to talk?” I arch a famous eyebrow at him before devouring his mouth with mine. I can feel a bit of his resistance, the way his hands stay light around my waist and how his lips are tentative and it takes me only a few moments to realize that the cat-calling is probably distracting him from the important task of being ravished.
So before he can utter a word, I’m off running back into the castle. Arthur just manages to follow my laughter as I run to Gryffindor tower, I pause at the bottom of the stairs to wait for him to climb into the common room before I wink and ascend the stairs and walk into the boys’ seventh year dormitory. Surprisingly I don’t have to kick anybody out and so I busy myself with opening all the windows to let the breeze in.
“Molly- what…” Arthur’s face is lovely when it’s all flushed and his chest is rising and falling with puffy air. And I love him. But he knows that already because I tend to tell him entirely too often but I am a Prewett and these things happen. He’s so sweet and wide eyed as I walk towards him in a very sexy manner, if I do say so myself, because I truly adore him when he’s trying so desperately to get me to pay attention.
“Arthur, I don’t want to talk right now.” I’ve pressed myself against him; it still amazes me that after being with me for just a bit past too years he still shakes when I’m near him. But his nervousness always leads to things beyond my imagination. I’m not the least bit surprised to feel him whisper against my ear, running his tongue along the edge because I always bring out the lion in this Weasley.
Before I can register the perfect way he fits against me, or the press of his hands on my waist, Arthur’s pushing me back against the bed. I scoot back, pulling the bed hangings closed on one side while he levitates a tie to outside the dorm door. It’s just courtesy, really. I’ve wiggled out of my new trainers by the time he climbs on top of the bed and settled himself on top of me. It is the most delicious weight, this man fits perfectly against me and a smile hitches my lips. Arthur’s too busy to notice my contentment because he has taken to divesting me of my shirt and steadily getting more distracted the more of my chest that is revealed.
He stares, tracing with rough but wonderfully freckled fingers the way my black lace compliments my pale skin tone. His eyes glaze over and make me feel as if I deserve all the worship I receive from this truly fascinating young man. But dwelling on his face soon disappears and my eyes slide shut when he takes a pert nipple into his mouth and all I can process is the way his fingernails feel as they trace my freckles and the way his lips feel pressed against my chest and how the glorious glow in between my thighs is raising the room’s temperature much more than the spring breeze can handle.
I can’t help but pant his name as he inches his lips across my stomach, applying just the right amount of pressure to make me twist my hands into his ginger hair. He’s delightfully wonderful in all the right ways and I’m sure I’m telling him in the unintelligible murmur that I’m sure is coming from my mouth but I can’t help it any more than I can help loving Arthur.
I can’ t remember my skirt or my knickers being peeled from my body but I’m naked by the time I come to any sort of coherency, to see Arthur grin wickedly from between my thighs and then put his sweet mouth on me. He’s sucking and licking in all the right places before slipping two fingers inside of me, I can hear the way his tongue slaps against my skin and I can feel the white hot heat curl up into me from the bottom of my toes and inside my ribs and explode behind my eyes.
My body is heavy as he presses kisses up my skin again and lays his head against my shoulder. He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met and I don’t need to tell him how great he is in bed, I just need to return the favor. I wrap one arm around his back and take the other to guide him into me; his head is buried into my shoulder in the most intimate way as he pushes into me with a friction that makes both of us cry out. Arthur is so still for long enough to make me ache with want, and I circle my hips in the tiniest of ways before his blue eyes flash open to lock onto mine.
And in this moment I know everything has changed. I can’t close my eyes, even if the sensation of him filling me over and over again with every slow thrust of his hips is making me go mad with pleasure. He’s so close, our lips barely touching as he arches over me, rolling his hips and making mine rise up to meet his. I got lost. So lost that it could have been moments, hours or several sun lit days before a second climax hit me so hard I couldn’t help but scream, even with my eyes open the lights seem to come from everywhere.
I barely register the last lazy pumps of his hips as Arthur comes with a silent scream and collapses beside me, rolling me to face him. There is something in the air that has changed, some sort of spell that has reached an unimaginable height and created something entirely too beautiful to describe. But before I can ponder it too long, Arthur’s eyes flutter open and I’m lost to the ever present sea of emotions. His hands find mine without looking and he tangles them together as well as pulling me closer until I can’t tell where his pale skin ends and where my freckles begin.
“Marry me,” he says.
Like I said, we were made for each other.
