You finally find (NC-17)
Category: Pink Sheep RPG
(This is going up early loves, because I fully intend to be asleep when this occurs)
"So," Bill sat forward on his desk, his hands folded in front of him. "Madamoiselle Delacour, do you know why I called you in here?" He studied the young woman in front of him, an unreadable look on his face.
Fleur nervously ran her hands over the smooth silk of her blue robes before folding them in her lap. "No, Professor, I do not," she said, eyes flashing to his. "'Ave I done something to displease you?"
"Stand up, s'il te plaît." Bill stood as well, circling around the desk. "You're violating the dress code, Madamoiselle Delacour." He reached out, his fingers brushing the hem of her skirt.
"Mais, Professeur, Fleur protested, intensely aware of his proximity, "I chose zis outfit with special care zis morning. And you 'ave never said anything to me about it before," she finished with a nonchalant shrug.
One of his hands rested on her hip as his other helped to remove the blue robes. "Other professors are beginning to notice. They suggest," his fingers dug into her side, "that I take you in hand and correct your behavior."
"Ah bon?" she queried, blue eyes alight with dark mischief. "And what did you 'ave in mind, Professor?"
One of his legs nudged in between hers, making her spread her legs. "I think you already know," he whispered into her ear as he began to unbutton her shirt. Bill's hand snuck under her skirt. "You're not wearing knickers," his voice was strangled.
Her lips curled into a wicked smirk, although he could not see it. "You like?" she murmured, tongue sneaking out to caress the shell of his ear. "I guess I must 'ave forgotten zem zis morning." Her hands went to his belt, impatiently undoing the silver buckle there.
"I could not stop thinking about you, Professor," she gasped as one finger slid over the sensitive nub hidden between her legs. "All during ze class. I am a bad, bad girl."
He plunged a finger into her. "You're soaking wet," he hissed, nudging her legs wider. The fingers resting on her hip dug in. "Did you think about how I'm going to touch you? How I'm going to make you fall apart with just my fingers? How I'm going to bend you over the desk and fuck you?"
Fleur moaned, loving his gravely, commanding tone of voice. "Oui," she breathed, clenching around his finger. "All of it, and 'ow I wanted to push you against ze wall, in front of ze 'ole class and take you with my mouth, 'ow I want to bring you to your knees because of me."
"You've been a very naughty girl." Bill's fingers sped up as a wicked grin crossed his face. "I think you need to be punished." He nipped at the base of her neck. "And you're not the one giving the directions, little flower."
She moaned, hips rocking into his hand as his ministrations grew faster. "Punish me zen, chéri," she gasped, head falling back in pleasure.
He withdrew his fingers and flipped up her short skirt, landing a few slaps over her arse, grinning at her squeaks of outrage. "You asked to be punished, little flower," he reminded as his fingers flicked over her pleasure spot, trying to smooth over her temper.
Her eyes flared with irritation even as her knees grew weak with arousal. "I did not mean zat you should 'it me," she moaned, eyes flickering open to look at him through her long lashes.
"I thought I told you." He nipped at her shoulder. "You're not the one in charge here." He turned her around to face him, pulling her shirt off as she went.
"Per'aps not," she replied, nimble hands making quick work of the button and zip of his trousers, "but I can assure you zat if you 'it me again, you will not like ze future repercussions."
He knocked her hands away, pulling his erection out. "On your knees," he directed, pushing down on her shoulders. "Time to fulfill one of your fantasies."
She needed no further encouragement as she kneeled in front of him, eyes sliding up to meet his. "As you wish, Professor," Fleur said, giving the tip of his member a chaste kiss before taking it into her mouth, one hand moving to grasp the base while her other dug into his hip as she began to move up and down over him.
Bill groaned in pleasure as Fleur's mouth wrapped around him. His hands twisted in her hair, his hips moving in tandem with her movements. "Don't stop," he gasped. "Don't you dare stop."
Her teeth scraped over him at his commands, lips curling into a smirk as he groaned. His hands in her hair added a tinge of pain to her pleasure, and she moaned around him knowing that he would feel the vibrations up and down the length of his member.
He could feel his orgasm building and he pulled her off him, much to his chagrin. "Stop." As much as he wouldn't mind achieving release in her mouth, he wanted this to last much longer. He helped her stand, pulling off her shirt and unzipping her skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
Fleur stood before him, unabashedly naked save for her thigh-high socks and black high-heeled shoes. "You are overdressed, Professor," she murmured, hands going to his tie. She quickly undid the silk accessory and tossed it onto the desk, fingers moving to the buttons of his Oxford shirt next.
He shrugged out of his shirt, but left his trousers on. "Over the desk," he ordered, pushing her down gently. Bill grasped at her hips, lined up, and sunk in. His pace was quick and punishing, not giving her much time to catch her breath.
She gasped and grasped at the polished wood of his desk as he pounded into her from behind, finding herself filled with the impressive length of his member very quickly. "Chéri," she moaned, pushing back against him in an attempt to increase the friction between them.
He leaned over her back, pressing a kiss in between her shoulder blades. Bill grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. "Yes, little flower?" His breath was hot against her ear.
"More," she pleaded, "'arder, please."
He thrust harder, holding there for a few moments before beginning to move again. He began to rain kisses down her back, tracing random patterns with his tongue. "So sweet..." he breathed.
Fleur cried out as the force of his thrusts pushed her harder into the sleek wood. "Mon dieu," she whimpered, hands struggling to get free from being pinned to the desk. She was so close to release, but she needed more.
"Yes?" Bill whispered against her ear, his hips jerking wildly. "You called?"
She turned her head to the side to kiss him, lips and tongue dueling with his own. "Bill, please," she murmured, pushing back against him and meeting his thrusts.
Letting go of her wrists, one of Bill's hands traveled in between her legs, ghosting over her clitoris, smiling as she mewled. The other rested on her hip. He grinned to himself. As much as his wife declared that she hated to beg, she did it quite often. And it was quite hot. He stilled his thrusts as his fingers continued to tease her.
Fleur's forehead dropped to the desk as her body tensed, that familiar tightening in her hips signaling her oncoming release. Her breathing was erratic and harsh as his fingers played, alternating between pinching and stroking the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs. She rose up on her tiptoes, pushing against his hand until finally, her climax broke, making her cries echo throughout the room.
He could feel her climax around him, nearly sending him over the edge. He moved his hips experimentally, trying to see if he could hold on. Her muscles gripped at him, making it that much harder. Gathering his wife in his arms, he collapsed in his chair, Fleur in his lap. His hips continued to move slowly, as not to cause her any discomfort as he sought his own completion.
She moved back against him, turning her head to the side to capture his lips with hers as she helped him towards his climax. "Bill, chéri," she breathed, one hand coming up to cup his cheek as she moved her hips against his, "come for me, mon amour."
He continued to move slowly, his own pleasure building. "Fleur," he groaned softly, as he thrust up, his movements stilling as he let the climax overtake him.
Fleur smiled against his lips as she felt him release inside of her. "Je t'adore," she whispered, nuzzling his cheek.
"Love you," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her. Her skin was cool to the touch and he ran his hands over back, trying to warm her up. He slipped out of her and grasped for his wand, casting a freshening charm over the two of them. He yawned slightly, feeling satiated and sleepy.
"Did you 'ave your fun, chéri?"
"Hmm, yes." He pressed his faced into the crux of her neck. "Do I even want to know where you got the uniform?"
She laughed. "Mon chou, you are married to a fashion designer. Naturellement, I made it."
"Naturally," he laughed. "Sorry. I'm just tired. My wife kept me up all last night and then demanded that I get up early this morning." He nuzzled her neck.
"Ah bon?" Fleur queried, sighing when his lips found her throat. "She sounds 'orrid. I can't imagine why you married 'er."
"Well, she smells good and she cooks for me." Bill pressed a kiss to her cheek and summoned her robe. She was probably freezing in the cool air of his office.
She shrugged her robe on and pulled it tight around her. Turning to face him, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, their breaths intermingling in the minute space between them. "Well, I am sure zat she will be 'appy you think she smells good," she teased.
He grinned at her, but was stopped from saying anything when there was a knock on the door. Bill's eyes widened comically. "Oh, fuck," he hissed, scrambling up and nearly dumping his wife on her arse.
"Merde!," Fleur exclaimed softly, tugging her robe even tighter around him and looking around for somewhere to hide. She spotted the door to his storage closet and quickly hid herself in there, ear pressed to the door to hear her husband greet whoever had knocked on his door.
He stumbled towards the door, tucking himself away and pulling on his robes as he went. Turning around, he banished the articles of clothing laying on the floor to where he thought his wife was hiding. Bill opened the door.
"Professor Weasley," Minerva McGonagall said with an arched brow. "I'm surprised to see you here on a Saturday morning."
"Well, you know." He gave the headmistress a weak grin. "I take my duties very seriously."
"I see." McGonagall sniffed.
Fleur snickered softly behind her hand as she listened to Bill talk with the headmistress. As much as she respected her husband's boss, she couldn't but think that if only the older woman would get herself someone to shag, she might be a bit less severe.
"Well, I am thrilled that you are taking your teaching duties so seriously, Professor Weasley." A small smirk played on the older woman's lips, "I must say, you were very lucky in that very few students choose to be up this early. May I suggest a silencing charm the next time you decide to take your husbandly duties just as serious?" She turned to go. "I do hope to see you at the next staff meeting, William." McGonagall called over her shoulder. "Good day."
Bill closed the door, a mortified look on his face. "That was probably the single most mortifying moment of my life, except possibly when my father walked in on me with Ashley Walker right before our clothes came of, between sixth and seventh year."
"And 'o is zis 'Ashley Walker'?" Fleur queried as she stuck her head out from the closet.
"A girl in my year. Come to think of it, I have no idea where she ended up." He shook his head. "It's safe to come out now, the coast is clear."
"Mmm, per'aps I should find 'er and 'ex 'er," Fleur said, gingerly stepping out and snickering at her husband. "Did you forget the silencing charm, chéri?"
"Maybe?" He made a face. "But in my defense, you wearing that skirt made it pretty hard to remember much of anything." He wrapped his arms about her waist. "And no hexing. If I can't hex your past flings, you can't hex mine. Besides, you're the only one who matters now."
"Mmm, bien," she murmured. She ran her fingers through his hair lovingly as she tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "Do you 'ave to stay long 'ere?"
He smirked, pulling her close to him. "No. I think I can afford to procrastinate for a day or so."
She looked up at him, corners of her lips lilting up in a wicked smirk before jumping up into his arms, legs locking around his waist. "I think I like zis procrastination thing," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him.
"Ah." He looked around. "Perhaps a change of venue?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I can handle another round in here. Not with the idea that McGonagall can hear us."
Fleur laughed. "Take me away, chéri."
Grinning, he grabbed his shirt, shrugging it on. "Just grab your things and we can Floo home before you can say, 'Oh,Merlin. More'."
"Oh, Merlin, more," Fleur teased, summoning her skirt and shirt from the closet where she'd stowed them. "Prêt?"
Laughing, Bill nodded. "Ready," he affirmed, heading towards the fireplace. Glancing around the room to make sure everything was in its place, he warded his office door and threw some Floo powder into the fire. "Ladies first."
"Merci," she said, giving him a winning smile as she stepped into the grate and called out "'Ome!" As soon as she tumbled out from the fireplace and righted herself, she let her robe slip off her shoulders and waited for Bill to join her.
Bill stumbled from the fireplace, catching a sight of his wife. "Dear Merlin," he groaned. "You're going to kill me."
"But what a way to go," she said, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and crooking a finger at him.
"What a way to go," he murmured as he began to pull at his own clothes. They didn't have to pick Claire up from The Burrow for another few hours. Plenty of time.
{Summary: Bill and Fleur use and abuse his office as professor. Luckily, nobody quite catches them in the act.}
(This is going up early loves, because I fully intend to be asleep when this occurs)
"So," Bill sat forward on his desk, his hands folded in front of him. "Madamoiselle Delacour, do you know why I called you in here?" He studied the young woman in front of him, an unreadable look on his face.
Fleur nervously ran her hands over the smooth silk of her blue robes before folding them in her lap. "No, Professor, I do not," she said, eyes flashing to his. "'Ave I done something to displease you?"
"Stand up, s'il te plaît." Bill stood as well, circling around the desk. "You're violating the dress code, Madamoiselle Delacour." He reached out, his fingers brushing the hem of her skirt.
"Mais, Professeur, Fleur protested, intensely aware of his proximity, "I chose zis outfit with special care zis morning. And you 'ave never said anything to me about it before," she finished with a nonchalant shrug.
One of his hands rested on her hip as his other helped to remove the blue robes. "Other professors are beginning to notice. They suggest," his fingers dug into her side, "that I take you in hand and correct your behavior."
"Ah bon?" she queried, blue eyes alight with dark mischief. "And what did you 'ave in mind, Professor?"
One of his legs nudged in between hers, making her spread her legs. "I think you already know," he whispered into her ear as he began to unbutton her shirt. Bill's hand snuck under her skirt. "You're not wearing knickers," his voice was strangled.
Her lips curled into a wicked smirk, although he could not see it. "You like?" she murmured, tongue sneaking out to caress the shell of his ear. "I guess I must 'ave forgotten zem zis morning." Her hands went to his belt, impatiently undoing the silver buckle there.
"I could not stop thinking about you, Professor," she gasped as one finger slid over the sensitive nub hidden between her legs. "All during ze class. I am a bad, bad girl."
He plunged a finger into her. "You're soaking wet," he hissed, nudging her legs wider. The fingers resting on her hip dug in. "Did you think about how I'm going to touch you? How I'm going to make you fall apart with just my fingers? How I'm going to bend you over the desk and fuck you?"
Fleur moaned, loving his gravely, commanding tone of voice. "Oui," she breathed, clenching around his finger. "All of it, and 'ow I wanted to push you against ze wall, in front of ze 'ole class and take you with my mouth, 'ow I want to bring you to your knees because of me."
"You've been a very naughty girl." Bill's fingers sped up as a wicked grin crossed his face. "I think you need to be punished." He nipped at the base of her neck. "And you're not the one giving the directions, little flower."
She moaned, hips rocking into his hand as his ministrations grew faster. "Punish me zen, chéri," she gasped, head falling back in pleasure.
He withdrew his fingers and flipped up her short skirt, landing a few slaps over her arse, grinning at her squeaks of outrage. "You asked to be punished, little flower," he reminded as his fingers flicked over her pleasure spot, trying to smooth over her temper.
Her eyes flared with irritation even as her knees grew weak with arousal. "I did not mean zat you should 'it me," she moaned, eyes flickering open to look at him through her long lashes.
"I thought I told you." He nipped at her shoulder. "You're not the one in charge here." He turned her around to face him, pulling her shirt off as she went.
"Per'aps not," she replied, nimble hands making quick work of the button and zip of his trousers, "but I can assure you zat if you 'it me again, you will not like ze future repercussions."
He knocked her hands away, pulling his erection out. "On your knees," he directed, pushing down on her shoulders. "Time to fulfill one of your fantasies."
She needed no further encouragement as she kneeled in front of him, eyes sliding up to meet his. "As you wish, Professor," Fleur said, giving the tip of his member a chaste kiss before taking it into her mouth, one hand moving to grasp the base while her other dug into his hip as she began to move up and down over him.
Bill groaned in pleasure as Fleur's mouth wrapped around him. His hands twisted in her hair, his hips moving in tandem with her movements. "Don't stop," he gasped. "Don't you dare stop."
Her teeth scraped over him at his commands, lips curling into a smirk as he groaned. His hands in her hair added a tinge of pain to her pleasure, and she moaned around him knowing that he would feel the vibrations up and down the length of his member.
He could feel his orgasm building and he pulled her off him, much to his chagrin. "Stop." As much as he wouldn't mind achieving release in her mouth, he wanted this to last much longer. He helped her stand, pulling off her shirt and unzipping her skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
Fleur stood before him, unabashedly naked save for her thigh-high socks and black high-heeled shoes. "You are overdressed, Professor," she murmured, hands going to his tie. She quickly undid the silk accessory and tossed it onto the desk, fingers moving to the buttons of his Oxford shirt next.
He shrugged out of his shirt, but left his trousers on. "Over the desk," he ordered, pushing her down gently. Bill grasped at her hips, lined up, and sunk in. His pace was quick and punishing, not giving her much time to catch her breath.
She gasped and grasped at the polished wood of his desk as he pounded into her from behind, finding herself filled with the impressive length of his member very quickly. "Chéri," she moaned, pushing back against him in an attempt to increase the friction between them.
He leaned over her back, pressing a kiss in between her shoulder blades. Bill grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. "Yes, little flower?" His breath was hot against her ear.
"More," she pleaded, "'arder, please."
He thrust harder, holding there for a few moments before beginning to move again. He began to rain kisses down her back, tracing random patterns with his tongue. "So sweet..." he breathed.
Fleur cried out as the force of his thrusts pushed her harder into the sleek wood. "Mon dieu," she whimpered, hands struggling to get free from being pinned to the desk. She was so close to release, but she needed more.
"Yes?" Bill whispered against her ear, his hips jerking wildly. "You called?"
She turned her head to the side to kiss him, lips and tongue dueling with his own. "Bill, please," she murmured, pushing back against him and meeting his thrusts.
Letting go of her wrists, one of Bill's hands traveled in between her legs, ghosting over her clitoris, smiling as she mewled. The other rested on her hip. He grinned to himself. As much as his wife declared that she hated to beg, she did it quite often. And it was quite hot. He stilled his thrusts as his fingers continued to tease her.
Fleur's forehead dropped to the desk as her body tensed, that familiar tightening in her hips signaling her oncoming release. Her breathing was erratic and harsh as his fingers played, alternating between pinching and stroking the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs. She rose up on her tiptoes, pushing against his hand until finally, her climax broke, making her cries echo throughout the room.
He could feel her climax around him, nearly sending him over the edge. He moved his hips experimentally, trying to see if he could hold on. Her muscles gripped at him, making it that much harder. Gathering his wife in his arms, he collapsed in his chair, Fleur in his lap. His hips continued to move slowly, as not to cause her any discomfort as he sought his own completion.
She moved back against him, turning her head to the side to capture his lips with hers as she helped him towards his climax. "Bill, chéri," she breathed, one hand coming up to cup his cheek as she moved her hips against his, "come for me, mon amour."
He continued to move slowly, his own pleasure building. "Fleur," he groaned softly, as he thrust up, his movements stilling as he let the climax overtake him.
Fleur smiled against his lips as she felt him release inside of her. "Je t'adore," she whispered, nuzzling his cheek.
"Love you," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her. Her skin was cool to the touch and he ran his hands over back, trying to warm her up. He slipped out of her and grasped for his wand, casting a freshening charm over the two of them. He yawned slightly, feeling satiated and sleepy.
"Did you 'ave your fun, chéri?"
"Hmm, yes." He pressed his faced into the crux of her neck. "Do I even want to know where you got the uniform?"
She laughed. "Mon chou, you are married to a fashion designer. Naturellement, I made it."
"Naturally," he laughed. "Sorry. I'm just tired. My wife kept me up all last night and then demanded that I get up early this morning." He nuzzled her neck.
"Ah bon?" Fleur queried, sighing when his lips found her throat. "She sounds 'orrid. I can't imagine why you married 'er."
"Well, she smells good and she cooks for me." Bill pressed a kiss to her cheek and summoned her robe. She was probably freezing in the cool air of his office.
She shrugged her robe on and pulled it tight around her. Turning to face him, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, their breaths intermingling in the minute space between them. "Well, I am sure zat she will be 'appy you think she smells good," she teased.
He grinned at her, but was stopped from saying anything when there was a knock on the door. Bill's eyes widened comically. "Oh, fuck," he hissed, scrambling up and nearly dumping his wife on her arse.
"Merde!," Fleur exclaimed softly, tugging her robe even tighter around him and looking around for somewhere to hide. She spotted the door to his storage closet and quickly hid herself in there, ear pressed to the door to hear her husband greet whoever had knocked on his door.
He stumbled towards the door, tucking himself away and pulling on his robes as he went. Turning around, he banished the articles of clothing laying on the floor to where he thought his wife was hiding. Bill opened the door.
"Professor Weasley," Minerva McGonagall said with an arched brow. "I'm surprised to see you here on a Saturday morning."
"Well, you know." He gave the headmistress a weak grin. "I take my duties very seriously."
"I see." McGonagall sniffed.
Fleur snickered softly behind her hand as she listened to Bill talk with the headmistress. As much as she respected her husband's boss, she couldn't but think that if only the older woman would get herself someone to shag, she might be a bit less severe.
"Well, I am thrilled that you are taking your teaching duties so seriously, Professor Weasley." A small smirk played on the older woman's lips, "I must say, you were very lucky in that very few students choose to be up this early. May I suggest a silencing charm the next time you decide to take your husbandly duties just as serious?" She turned to go. "I do hope to see you at the next staff meeting, William." McGonagall called over her shoulder. "Good day."
Bill closed the door, a mortified look on his face. "That was probably the single most mortifying moment of my life, except possibly when my father walked in on me with Ashley Walker right before our clothes came of, between sixth and seventh year."
"And 'o is zis 'Ashley Walker'?" Fleur queried as she stuck her head out from the closet.
"A girl in my year. Come to think of it, I have no idea where she ended up." He shook his head. "It's safe to come out now, the coast is clear."
"Mmm, per'aps I should find 'er and 'ex 'er," Fleur said, gingerly stepping out and snickering at her husband. "Did you forget the silencing charm, chéri?"
"Maybe?" He made a face. "But in my defense, you wearing that skirt made it pretty hard to remember much of anything." He wrapped his arms about her waist. "And no hexing. If I can't hex your past flings, you can't hex mine. Besides, you're the only one who matters now."
"Mmm, bien," she murmured. She ran her fingers through his hair lovingly as she tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "Do you 'ave to stay long 'ere?"
He smirked, pulling her close to him. "No. I think I can afford to procrastinate for a day or so."
She looked up at him, corners of her lips lilting up in a wicked smirk before jumping up into his arms, legs locking around his waist. "I think I like zis procrastination thing," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him.
"Ah." He looked around. "Perhaps a change of venue?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I can handle another round in here. Not with the idea that McGonagall can hear us."
Fleur laughed. "Take me away, chéri."
Grinning, he grabbed his shirt, shrugging it on. "Just grab your things and we can Floo home before you can say, 'Oh,Merlin. More'."
"Oh, Merlin, more," Fleur teased, summoning her skirt and shirt from the closet where she'd stowed them. "Prêt?"
Laughing, Bill nodded. "Ready," he affirmed, heading towards the fireplace. Glancing around the room to make sure everything was in its place, he warded his office door and threw some Floo powder into the fire. "Ladies first."
"Merci," she said, giving him a winning smile as she stepped into the grate and called out "'Ome!" As soon as she tumbled out from the fireplace and righted herself, she let her robe slip off her shoulders and waited for Bill to join her.
Bill stumbled from the fireplace, catching a sight of his wife. "Dear Merlin," he groaned. "You're going to kill me."
"But what a way to go," she said, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and crooking a finger at him.
"What a way to go," he murmured as he began to pull at his own clothes. They didn't have to pick Claire up from The Burrow for another few hours. Plenty of time.
{Summary: Bill and Fleur use and abuse his office as professor. Luckily, nobody quite catches them in the act.}