100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,569
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,569
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Spring
Title: Spring
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Oral, M/F
Summary: #62 – Spring. Spring made her blood burn.
Word Count: 672 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 62 – Spring
“Fleur!”
Bill’s voice rang out, but she could not see him as she ran. Her laughter was quiet, but she knew that he was on her trail. Through a copse of trees near the River Otter, Fleur Weasley glided along to the bank of the slow running river until her bare feet splashed into the shallows.
Springtime always made her blood burn.
“Fleur?”
Bill was close and she took off again, back into the trees and the budding branches to a clearing of blooming cherry trees. That was where he pounced.
“What am I to do with you?” he asked, his body over hers in the high grass, cherry petals on the air.
“Love me,” she whispered, her pale hands moving to touch his long blood red hair, the silken strands a balm to her boiling blood.
Springtime, it was when her Veela blood called to her the strongest. She knew it was a buried natural instinct, inherited, and hard to deny.
Bill grinned, his blue eyes gleaming in the afternoon light. “Love you? Why, I do, my little flower…”
Fleur pursed her lips, feel Bill’s hips slide between her hips. “More than that,” she whispered.
His hands brushed away silvery locks from her face, and he kissed her quickly.
“Then…you mean something like this?”
Fleur hummed as his hand slipped under her blouse, reaching up to cup her breast still swollen from nursing Louis months before. The little Weasley was toddling, and with the rest of the children back at the Burrow down the river.
“More than that,” she whispered, watching cherry petals fall into Bill’s hair.
He moved to unbutton her blouse, and unhooked her brassiere in the front, sliding the clothing away to expose her chest to the sunlight.
“Like this?” he whispered as his mouth descended to a puckered nipple, suckling.
She hissed, the flesh still tender, her breast still full. The sensation of her husbands’ mouth was heavenly, but it was still not enough. Her fingers laced through his hair, stripping away the band that held the long red hair back and let the cool strands fall about her ribs.
Fleur whinged was Bill pulled his mouth away, grinning down at her, deviously. His scarred face was devilishly handsome.
“Not enough?” he asked in a husky whisper.
She shook her head, letting it roll in the grass under her. “More.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed seductively. “As my lady wishes…”
He pulled his body upward, pulling his old tee shirt over his head to reveal his well-defined chest and belly. Fleur licked her lips as he threw the shirt aside to undo his belt and the front of his Muggle denims. The sight of him made her mouth literally water.
Bill slid her skirt up her long legs, and pulling her knickers down. Fleur had to bite her lower lip to keep from cursing her husband to move faster, touch her, fuck her. However, his when large hands gripped her bottom, lifting her hips from the ground, she moaned at the caress of his breath against her soaking slit.
His tongue swiped widely across her flesh and her eyes shut. Bill was ever so talented, she thought. It was no wonder that she had chosen him over all men to be her husband and the father to her children.
A sharp nip on her clit made her cry out, tremulously.
“More…” she gasped as he lowered her hips from his damp mouth, long tongue licking at her juices.
His grin was wolfish, feral, and his eyes blazed in the sunlight. They were so flawed, she thought, but when they moved together, it was perfection. In the spring daylight, her pale eyes widened at the sight of his cock, the purple head and the pearl of moisture on the tip. Fleur wanted to eat him.
And she did, her body taking very hard inch until she whimpered as he began to move. Fleur’s blood burned and her eyes rolled back into her skull as cherry petals sprinkled over her skin.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Oral, M/F
Summary: #62 – Spring. Spring made her blood burn.
Word Count: 672 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 62 – Spring
“Fleur!”
Bill’s voice rang out, but she could not see him as she ran. Her laughter was quiet, but she knew that he was on her trail. Through a copse of trees near the River Otter, Fleur Weasley glided along to the bank of the slow running river until her bare feet splashed into the shallows.
Springtime always made her blood burn.
“Fleur?”
Bill was close and she took off again, back into the trees and the budding branches to a clearing of blooming cherry trees. That was where he pounced.
“What am I to do with you?” he asked, his body over hers in the high grass, cherry petals on the air.
“Love me,” she whispered, her pale hands moving to touch his long blood red hair, the silken strands a balm to her boiling blood.
Springtime, it was when her Veela blood called to her the strongest. She knew it was a buried natural instinct, inherited, and hard to deny.
Bill grinned, his blue eyes gleaming in the afternoon light. “Love you? Why, I do, my little flower…”
Fleur pursed her lips, feel Bill’s hips slide between her hips. “More than that,” she whispered.
His hands brushed away silvery locks from her face, and he kissed her quickly.
“Then…you mean something like this?”
Fleur hummed as his hand slipped under her blouse, reaching up to cup her breast still swollen from nursing Louis months before. The little Weasley was toddling, and with the rest of the children back at the Burrow down the river.
“More than that,” she whispered, watching cherry petals fall into Bill’s hair.
He moved to unbutton her blouse, and unhooked her brassiere in the front, sliding the clothing away to expose her chest to the sunlight.
“Like this?” he whispered as his mouth descended to a puckered nipple, suckling.
She hissed, the flesh still tender, her breast still full. The sensation of her husbands’ mouth was heavenly, but it was still not enough. Her fingers laced through his hair, stripping away the band that held the long red hair back and let the cool strands fall about her ribs.
Fleur whinged was Bill pulled his mouth away, grinning down at her, deviously. His scarred face was devilishly handsome.
“Not enough?” he asked in a husky whisper.
She shook her head, letting it roll in the grass under her. “More.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed seductively. “As my lady wishes…”
He pulled his body upward, pulling his old tee shirt over his head to reveal his well-defined chest and belly. Fleur licked her lips as he threw the shirt aside to undo his belt and the front of his Muggle denims. The sight of him made her mouth literally water.
Bill slid her skirt up her long legs, and pulling her knickers down. Fleur had to bite her lower lip to keep from cursing her husband to move faster, touch her, fuck her. However, his when large hands gripped her bottom, lifting her hips from the ground, she moaned at the caress of his breath against her soaking slit.
His tongue swiped widely across her flesh and her eyes shut. Bill was ever so talented, she thought. It was no wonder that she had chosen him over all men to be her husband and the father to her children.
A sharp nip on her clit made her cry out, tremulously.
“More…” she gasped as he lowered her hips from his damp mouth, long tongue licking at her juices.
His grin was wolfish, feral, and his eyes blazed in the sunlight. They were so flawed, she thought, but when they moved together, it was perfection. In the spring daylight, her pale eyes widened at the sight of his cock, the purple head and the pearl of moisture on the tip. Fleur wanted to eat him.
And she did, her body taking very hard inch until she whimpered as he began to move. Fleur’s blood burned and her eyes rolled back into her skull as cherry petals sprinkled over her skin.