Chase You Anywhere

Valkyrie had always been responsive, and this time was no different. As his mouth journeyed down her body, he left her arching up into him, his groan mixing with the gasping moan tearing from her throat as his lips touched her cunt. The blonde’s hands fisted in the bedsheets, her toes curling when her eyes met his. Val’s lips parted and she automatically splayed her thighs wider to allow him more room.

His face was buried against her, the sounds and the movements she gave forth feeding a fire in him. He stayed that way, skilled mouth bringing her closer and closer to that edge, drawing her in until he could feel her getting close, and he backed off. Panting, he broke away from her enough to get some air. He brushed kisses over her thighs, up her hips and across her belly. The movement was more like worship than anything else, loving and devoted and passionate. When he reached them, he closed his lips around the peak of her nipple again, nibbling and sucking before he moved on to come up. 

She never got tired of kissing him. Not against the wall or going double-time anymore, she had plenty of time to appreciate that. Her palms slid over the skin of his arms, his well-built shoulders, his defined torso, everywhere as she kissed him back slowly, plenty of heat and absolutely no rush. No one had touched her like this in five years and she wanted to savour every moment of his touch now. Val walked backwards until the back of her knees hit the mattress and then fell back, pulling him down on top of her and immediately arching up into his body.

A long groan accompanied her grip on him, the long strokes and the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek. He kissed her hard and long, keeping their lips sealed and their tongues twining until he had to let go to catch his breath, the combined headiness of her and her touch and her actions all making him too dizzy to continue. Slowly, his kisses moved downward, lips leaving a wet trail behind them, down her neck, her chest, her stomach, until he was kneeling at the side of the bed, kissing down further until his lips met hers. 

His laugh made a different kind of warmth – one that didn’t have a direct relation to the arousal flooding her senses – pool in the pit of her stomach. It made her heart stop for a moment before he made it race when their lips collided once more. It helped that they moved like experts together. He knew her, knew exactly what she liked and how she liked it. His deftness at undoing the buttons of her deep purple blouse didn’t surprise her since it wasn’t even close to the first time they had done this. Her robes were a useless weight still hanging off her shoulders as a raw moan tore from her the moment he pushed aside her obstacle of a bra and his mouth latched around her nipple. Arching up into him as he continued his journey down her body, she made quick work of shrugging both robes and blouse off of where they’d been stuck on her shoulders. It took the simple snap of a hook of her bra before the lacy black garment was sent flying in a random direction. “Fuck,” she hissed, her black skirt inconsequential when it came to being much of a barrier concerning the bulge she felt him grinding in return against her.

He nearly stumbled when she withdrew her legs from him, pressed a kiss to his lips that made him dizzy and breathless and all the things that only she had ever been able to make him do. Merlin, he loved her. He wasn't letting her go again. It had been a mistake before and he was not prepared to relive it. He could not let those wounds be slashed open again. He couldn't handle it. 

Love Runs Out - OneRepublic

I think I could get to know a new body in twenty minutes.. if you know what I mean [Winks] BUT- I’m not the flirtatious playboy with a reputation to uphold now, am I? Anyway, I stand firm with my belief that once the Love Potion wore off Aunt Audrey just couldn’t be bothered to go elsewhere and just stuck it out. That’s why Uncle Percy slipped it to her in the first place, see? Knew she was a perfect candidate [Laughs] Beats me- must have been the other Weasley genes that kicked in with those two. Uncle Percy is clearly odd man out when it comes to Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur’s kids, so it’s only logical the awesome came back with them… especially since it was lost on you [Touches her arm] Ohhh sick burnnnnn

[Laughs] OK- not a problem. But see, if I win- you accept the same punishment. Fred Weasley with a tramp stamp… can you even imagine? [Bursts out laughing while holding out her hand for a shake]

Oi, you don't know shit madam. Getting to know your own body and all it's little faces it makes and what's good about it takes time, yeah? You think you can just toss a smile with any old face and get your way? No, you have to know your strengths. [He rolls his eyes.] Yeah, suppose that's probably the way of things, yeah. He's always been good to her, at the very least. [He stares for a moment, then gives a disbelieving snort and laughs wildly.] You can't toss out that insult in the middle of forming a bet where I have to lose my good looks to charm a girl, mate. Doesn't work out. 

Oh. Oh nooooo, no no no. See, if you get caught with one, it's a funny story with you and your bloke, right? If I get caught with one, it's the cover of Witch Weekly with a picture of my back and the caption "Guess Which Quidditch Bon-Bon Has A Taste For The Wild Side" or something and I hate it when they call me a bon bon. Not to mention that every single time I go out after that, I have to hear about it. No, I will change mine to ass if you will.

As he reeled her in and pressed her against the wall — with support she was grateful for in case her knees decided to give out — she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him- hell, she was past want, she needed him, this, tonight. All the training she had been doing since she had walked away from this very same man holding her right now paid off now, because it took no struggle at all to wrap her other leg around him easily, her calf muscle flexing against his hip as her ankles crossed just over his arse.

He let out a soft laugh as the shirt was ripped open, a kind of light chuckle that only Fred Weasley could fit into sex and still make it seem right. It was followed quickly by a low groan, the friction she was creating against him bringing forth the noise. He pulled her closer, pressed her harder against the wall so that he could angle her and make sure she felt exactly what she was doing with that grind. "Just like them,yeah" he breathed, head tilting to the side as she kissed along his neck. He dipped again, turning to catch her lips and kiss her hard, returning every ounce of that serious, devastating passion to her.

It was the sound of a shutter clicking that broke the spell next, though. Val’s head snapped up immediately to catch the man who took the picture – grinning like Christmas had come early, the smarmy bastard – and leaned her forehead against Fred’s, catching her breath. “That’s probably going to make the paper- I forgot you got famous, Mister Quidditch Player Stud,” the blonde witch muttered wryly. She got up off his lap and stepped out of the booth. Her eyes never left Fred’s as she tugged him up and shrugged slightly. I am so going to regret this later, she thought as she apparated them back to her flat.

The shutter click didn't register at first, not until she pulled away from the kiss. He blinked a couple of times, turning to look at the man and taking another to moment to register that it mattered that he was seen kissing her. He was somebody, he was a heartthrob of sorts, and he was likely supposed to be worried about scandals. Of course, he wasn't, but he was supposed to be. "Do you want me to get that taken care of?" he murmured, face earnest, but eyes glinting with that hint of danger he held, a warning that when he was angry and had something to protect, he could be ruthless. A slight reminder that it was her he was going to be ruthless for, that she was the one he wanted to protect. It wasn't him he was concerned after. It was her.

His question was a moment too late. She was on her feet, pulling him behind her, and just before they apparated away, he shot a look at the camera man, one that was stern and dangerous and aloof the way he was before a game, not in a bar. His arm was still protective around her and as the shutter clicked again and they disappeared with a pop he wondered if it was going to be the kiss or the game face that would be in the papers. Would his scandal be about the girl he was bedding or the girl he was serious about? 

[Grins] Oh, I can’t make any promises. Besides, two hours is far too long- an hour of prep is more than generous for someone of your, ahem, “skill level.” As for Uncle Percy, you know that Love Potions exist, right? It’s the only explanation… forget his face. Think about how he speaks. Man could put a fucking dragon to sleep with his stories! 

What, you think you could get to know a new body in an hour? Dragon shit, Weasley. But fine, fine. Yes, but Love potions don't last forever and he and Aunt Audrey are still going strong, innit? Moreover, how the hell did Mols and Luce get so damn pretty and cool with him as their pops the way he is? Weird. 

Alright, fine, fine. If I win - get a muggle to come home with me without my status or my face... you get a tattoo. A tramp stamp. Haven't decided what yet.

Her eyes widened for a moment before they fell shut; all the noise of the bar, every other person in existence, they all faded away. The only thing that was there — the only thing that mattered even a little — was that Fred was kissing her and it felt like the last few years hadn’t happened. But they had, hadn’t they? And she missed him so much. It shouldn’t have felt like a part of her fell back into place, but it did. His tug on her lower lip drew a soft moan from her slightly parted lips and she tilted her head back, eyes still shut. She couldn’t look at him or she would run as far away from his as she could. The ringing alarms in her head sounded far away as she murmured, “You shouldn’t have done that, Fred.”

"I know," he mumbled. "I know, I'm sorry, I just- Val?" He had reached up after her, ready to try and pull her back and this time he wasn't sure he would have the willpower to let her walk away again, but she was next to him and her hand was pulling him closer and god, he was whole. She fit against him like a puzzle piece that finished him out. He was painfully aware of the rest of the bar, the place he frequented so much, and the fact that he was never so uncouth as to kiss a lady while they were still there. He always took them home first. This was Val, though, and she wasn't just a lady, she was his leggy, beautiful, blonde snake and his arms were around her and he was pushing back from the table enough to turn and tug her nearly into his lap. 

Her eyes momentarily fell shut and she breathed out softly, evidently affected. When she opened them, she licked along her bottom lip, knowing her fire-engine red lipstick wouldn’t fade with it, and raised her eyebrows while she heard him. “Who said I was faking at being fine?” Valkyrie asked, and this trick tended to work on everyone: just answer with a question. Involuntarily scrunching her nose up at his concern, Val shook her head, blonde waves shaking with it. “I know my mother is dead, love, but that doesn’t mean you get to play the role. I’m not only fine, I’m great. And my job is my life. I just have a lot of time to do it- doesn’t mean I am working too much,” she added, the first part a bold-faced lie that neither of them believed for a second. Then, as an afterthought, she said, “But thanks.” The words were quiet but that hushed, warm appreciation was something she knew he would be able to understand for what it was. That was an advantage of him knowing her.

Fuck, was she leaning in? She was leaning in. The soft tone of her thanks reverberated in his chest, shivered down his spine, the color of her lipstick against her skin and her tongue burning into his eyes, the shake of her hair sending a wave of shampoo scent over the odor of the bar. 

What the problem was- well, fuck it, it was that she didn’t know what part of her was which – which one that was right and needing – because if it was the one that wanted to just touch him because it felt like he wasn’t real, then she was so beyond screwed she might as well burst into hysterical laughter.

Realizing that she zoned out a little and that her reply was a little delayed, she bit her lip hard before smiling at him, just slightly. “Good. I’ll let you live then,” she replied, a corner of her mouth perking up. Thankfully, she had zoned back in to hear his response to the latter part of their conversation. The babes he added made her want to grab his hand and drag him back to her too-big, too-empty flat and kiss him until she was breathless, and then keep bloody kissing him.

If the endearment wasn’t enough, the way he challenged her was. He was always so fucking hot with that. She knew this part of Fred- the smart part. The one that could give her a run for her money and match her too-fast steps every step of the way. This was why they had worked so well together. This, right here. That challenge in his eyes made her hand inch towards his and curl her fingers against him, daring him back with her eyes to pull away from her. She needed him to need him back, and she didn’t even know it. “Babe, if you saw me on the field, you would know that I am anything but unstable. I don’t know if you know it or not, but I am so damn good that I got out of training and became a full-fledged Auror a year into training. It’s supposed to be two, in case you didn’t know,” there was a teasing lilt to her tone that didn’t let any condescension drip from her tone the way it might have with someone else. “And honestly, you should be the last person to question my sensibilities when it comes to myself and my life; you do know what happens to those who do.” She hadn’t meant for the term of endearment that was only his to roll off her tongue the way it had, or the words after it that hinted at the history they had together. He shouldn’t know anything. Words she said shouldn’t have been dragging memories of the many times they had battled wits just like this. But it didn’t change that he knew her or that her words did just that.

Still in that bad-decision-making, instinct-driven mode, he leaned forward, his other hand closing over hers and thumb brushing over the knuckles. "I know that you have always been good at faking that you're fine." His easy grin was still there, now looking almost tempting, almost alluring, and to anyone in the bar, it probably seemed like the look in his eyes and the hushed tones meant he was trying to draw her back to his place already. "No, I didn't know that, and I don't doubt you're the best there is, but I also know that no, you don't take care of yourself, not like you ought to, and that's the only reason anyone else in the world has got a fighting chance. You're a fucking force of nature, Valkyrie Challiet, and you always have been."

Is that a wager? Because I love bets, sir, but I don’t take ones that I’m destined to lose. I’ve seen you sweet talk enough girls to know that your success rate largely outweighs your failures. Let me give you some Polyjuice Potion beforehand, however, and that would be a fair bet!

Oh really? Polyjuice Potion? Give me enough for like two hours to get used to the new face and I can do it, I bet. What face are we talking? Long as it's not Uncle Percy's. Don't even know how he made that face work for him long enough to land his wife.