Pretty One
Title: Pretty One
Pairing: Fleur/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2200+
Warnings: To state the obvious, femmeslash & sexual content
Summary: Clearing her throat, she stood up slowly and discreetly made to follow Fleur’s delicate footsteps. Her heart pounded and her thoughts spun with curiosity as she turned down the line of books Fleur had hidden herself behind.
A/N: Written for witchwinter. Kinks include school uniforms and library!sex.
Pretty One
A group of girls giggled as they peered past the bookshelf they were ‘hiding’ themselves behind; Hermione rolled her eyes for the fifth time in thirty minutes as she tapped her fingers impatiently and tried to focus on the text in front of her. Her homework was feeling like a chore. And Viktor wasn’t making it any easier, sitting there and watching her dumbly as if - in a library full of books - he had nothing to better entertain his attentions.
If he would just leave, she thought, it would simplify everything. She wouldn’t have his eyes boring into her, and his pack of admirers would totter off behind him. Two birds with one stone.
Viktor coughed and the girls gave high-pitched squeals as if he’d stood up and stripped off all his robes; Hermione ground her teeth in frustration and glared fiercely down at the information in her book, imploring it to soak into her brain quickly so she could move on.
It was an awful Christmas. The Yule Ball had been a disaster, with Ron’s jealous fit over her ‘fraternising with the enemy’, and now she had Viktor following her around everywhere so, between him and his groupies, she couldn’t get a moment’s peace. Then, of course, there was Rita Skeeter who was being a right pain the arse with her gossip-mongering. Hermione was really starting to wish she’d just skipped out on the Yule Ball and Triwizard festivities and, instead, just spent Christmas with her parents.
She had almost shut out the inane twittering, and adjusted to the leering of her Bulgarian companion when another distraction arrived. She only caught a glimpse of that silver hair as Fleur Delacour swept into the library, and it was enough for Hermione to feel her body temperature rise.
Hermione blinked a few times and tried to refocus her attention, but she could see the French girl moving closer to her. Her cheeks flushed and she tried very hard to pretend as though she had not noticed who had just entered the library. She tried even more desperately to push back the memory that had quite suddenly jumped to the forefront of her thoughts.
“You ar’ a pretty one.”
Hermione blinked and turned her gaze from the dance floor to the older girl that stood poised beside her. “Excuse me.”
“You,” Fleur repeated, dropping her voice and grazing Hermione’s lips with a single finger. “Ar’ very pretty. And you ‘ave such soft lips. And such beautiful curves.”
Hermione’s breath stopped short as she felt her face flush, and she found her eyes travelling over the older girl’s face - such beautiful eyes, seductive lips, glowing skin - and down along her elegant neck, to the dipping neckline of her dress robes that revealed subtle, teasing cleavage.
“What eez your name?” Fleur asked softly.
“Hermione.”
“And, ‘ow old ar’ you, ‘ermione?”
“Fifteen,” Hermione said faintly, feeling slightly warmer, enjoying the way her own name rolled off the French girl’s tongue.
“Mmmm,” Fleur murmured with a knowing smile. She looked at Hermione fondly and then whispered. “I ‘ope to see more of you, soon.”
Hermione’s attention snapped back to the present time and place, and she saw Fleur pass behind her, her lips curved in a mischievous smile. She brushed her hand across Hermione’s shoulder and slipped off behind a shelf. Hermione hesitated a moment, glancing cautiously at the brooding Bulgarian that sat only feet from her, and the girls that stood only feet from him.
Clearing her throat, she stood up slowly and discreetly made to follow Fleur’s delicate footsteps. Her heart pounded and her thoughts spun with curiosity as she turned down the line of books Fleur had hidden herself behind.
There she was, standing against one of the library’s windows, frosted over with ice, though Hermione wouldn’t have been surprised if it had melted clean away from Fleur Delacour’s touch.
“Mm, I knew you would follow,” the silver-hair girl said with a seductive smile, reaching out and running a finger along the side of Hermione’s face. “Zat your curious little mind could not resist.”
Hermione’s breaths were uneven and she looked at Fleur with wide eyes; she swallowed audibly as she thought of what to say, but Fleur saved her the trouble by leaning in and kissing her gently on the lips. Hermione closed her eyes and savoured the sweet touch of the French girl’s lips and the warm taste of her tongue.
It was so different than kissing Viktor. So much better.
“Mmm,” Fleur laughed softly. “I am glad I ‘ave finally found somezeeng to keep me warm in ‘zis awful, draughty castle.”
Fleur’s hand drifted to the bottom hem of her top and lifted it up, revealing her bare breasts to Hermione, who almost whimpered at the sight of them. “Kiss me,” Fleur asked throatily. Hermione gave a soft murmur of assent and pressed her mouth to the soft skin of Fleur’s breast, pressing her tongue against her hard nipple before beginning to suckle gently. Fleur gave a satisfied moan and Hermione felt as two soft hands travelled upwards along her burning thighs and gripped her arse.
“Meet me ‘ere,” she rasped. “Tonight.”
Hermione moved her kisses up to Fleur’s neck and gave a murmur of assent.
“Wear nu’zing, but ‘zis tie,” she instructed, “’zese skirt, and ‘zese socks.”
Hermione swallowed hard, feeling completely breathless at the request. She gazed with excited astonishment at Fleur’s flushed porcelain face, and nodded. Fleur pulled her top back down, stealing the sight of her bare breasts away.
“I will see you tonight, ’ermione.”
Hermione’s heart pounded as she slipped out of the dormitory that night. She had on a dressing gown, but underneath she wore exactly what Fleur had asked: nothing but her uniform skirt, her Gryffindor tie, and her Gryffindor knee socks. Her thoughts were enough to keep her warm against the winter chill, though Hermione was quite sure she would die of mortification if anyone caught her out in such attire, or lack thereof.
Of course, she reassured herself, It’s highly doubtful that any Professor stop and ask me to take off my dressing gown.
And so, with trembling limbs, Hermione set out quietly for the library. She crept in, stopping for a moment to watch as snow fell gently from the sky, then gazing with appreciation at the soft moonlight cast on the sleeping books. She gave a slight smirk because it was definitely not the first time she’d been in the library after hours; though, certainly never for this reason.
Her first instinct was to go back to the corner where she and Fleur had kissed earlier that day; she found it easily, but Fleur was not there. Hermione bit her lip, troubled and starting to doubt her own sanity. Oh, I’m such a fool, she began to chide herself - until she saw someone moving past the shelves.
Hermione crept carefully towards the figure, and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Fleur, clothed in a silk nightgown. A shiver ran through Hermione’s spine at the vision, and she felt herself tingle with a spark of desire and anticipation.
Fleur stopped right under a cast of moonlight; it washed over her, making her seductive beauty even more enchanting. She caught Hermione’s eye and flashed her that curved smile again, before slowly pulling her silk nightgown off and letting it fall to the floor, where it pooled around her graceful feet.
Hermione gave a small, appreciative gasp as her eyes rested on Fleur’s nude body; she wore nothing but the light of the moon. Fleur lifted her hand, motioning for Hermione to come to her, and Hermione beckoned, stripping off her own nightgown and dropping it to the floor.
Fleur smirked at the sight of the younger girl’s breasts and the red and gold tie that had settled itself between them. Her eyes feasted longingly on the thighs that peeked out from under her pleated skirt. “You follow instructions very well, ’ermione..”
Fleur slid onto the table before them, and Hermione followed her lead. “Lie back for me,” Fleur asked, and again, Hermione did as she was told.
Fleur moved her hands up along Hermione’s socks, then grazed her thighs with her manicured fingernails before finding her way to Hermione’s bare arse. Hermione moaned as one of Fleur’s fingers slid down along her arse, towards the top of her inner thigh. Then she whimpered and closed her eyes as she felt Fleur begin to massage her with a gentle touch, but torturous rhythm.
“Open your eyes,” Fleur commanded. Hermione did, and she saw Fleur in front of her, on her knees, her hands occupied with Hermione’s body. Hermione watched her as she licked her lips and moved her fingers faster, and Hermione felt herself getting hotter and wetter with each passing movement. She felt herself desiring more. She didn’t want to just watch Fleur, she wanted to touch her. She wanted to grip her arse, she wanted to taste that perfect kiss again, as well as those perfect breasts.
“Fleur,” she begged. “I want… to feel you against me.”
“As you wish,” Fleur said with a smile, and she crawled closer to Hermione, opening her path with her mouth, trailing along Hermione’s hot skin. She was soon pressed on top of Hermione, and Hermione wrapped her legs around her, glad to feel Fleur’s heated body between her thighs as she worked her closer to an orgasm.
Fleur’s mouth found Hermione’s and their tongues met in a passionate kiss as Hermione arched herself upwards, grinding her hips eagerly against Fleur’s hand for more. Suddenly, Fleur took her hand away and Hermione let out a disappointed moan, but she was soon relieved with another ripple of pleasure as Fleur dipped her head down between Hermione’s legs and licked her with her talented French tongue. Hermione felt her swirl and suckle at her, and she grunted with frustration as she felt beads of sweat forming on the surface of her skin.
“Fleur,” she cried, grabbing a fistful of the silk-like silver hair as she felt Fleur’s fingers slide against her arse. She felt the pleasure build inside her, and she begged and cried for a climax; finally, she came with a shudder, and as the last wave of pleasure washed over her, she felt Fleur lay gentle kisses on her thighs as she sat back up.
She smirked as she watched Hermione lay panting on the table. Then, sitting with her legs propped open, she reached forward and pulled Hermione’s tie, tugging her towards her. Hermione’s hands found Fleur’s thighs and she gripped her tightly as she brought her lips to Fleur’s breasts and began to suckle hungrily upon her hardened nipple.
“You ar’ so eager, ‘ermione,” Fleur breathed.
“You’re enchanting,” Hermione said, pulling her mouth away from Fleur’s nipple tracing her open mouth along her chest, causing the French girl to tremble.
“And such a fast learner,” Fleur gasped.
“I’ve always been a good student,” Hermione said with a smirk.
“And ‘ere I ‘zought you were shy,” Fleur laughed, leaning over and returning Hermione’s favour, nipping slightly at her breast before stopping and looking at her with a burning power in her eyes. “Get on your knees.”
Hermione obeyed and once, a ripple of exhilaration rushing through her as Fleur sat behind her. Hermione’s bare arse was revealed from under her skirt, and Fleur ran her hands along it, kissing her thighs, wet with the come of her orgasm. She fingered her again, and Hermione thought the sensation was almost too much to bear. But Fleur continued, her lips now travelling along the bare skin of Hermione’s exposed bottom. She gave her a small spank and Hermione gasped before biting her lip with a grin of enjoyment. She arched her back upwards, pushing herself against Fleur’s clever fingers, and her eyes rolled back as she felt herself come again.
“Oh,” she moaned.
Fleur then slid her body underneath Hermione’s, stopping so that Hermione’s head was at her hips. Hermione did not hesitate to echo Fleur’s earlier demonstration, dipping her head downwards between her thighs to find her wet and begging for her own wave of ecstasy.
Fleur’s hands moved forward to Hermione’s neck, encouraging her head’s downward movement; she moved her hips in a rocking motion as Hermione’s tongue took soft, delicate tastes before moving again with a fiercer hunger. She enjoyed the sounds of Fleur’s throaty moans and whimpers as she brought her closer to her climax, and let herself be guided by Fleur’s rocking motions, telling her how she wanted to be licked.
Hermione dug her fingernails into Fleur’s soft thighs as she brought the girl to her orgasm, and listened with satisfaction to Fleur’s gasp as her body shook with pleasure.
As the heat of the afterglow receded, the wintry temperature rushed upon them, and Hermione found herself quickly pulling her thick nightgown back over her goosebump-ridden skin.
“You are ‘ere in ‘ze library often, no?” Fleur said quietly, kissing Hermione’s neck.
“Yes,” Hermione said with a nod. “I’m here a lot.”
“’Zen,” Fleur whispered huskily in Hermione’s ear, her sly smile reappearing. “I shall wait in ‘ze corners, and watch you, and ‘zink about what I would like to be doing to you. And, when you least expect me, I will pull you off to ‘ze side and show you what I’ve been fantasising.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Hermione said breathlessly, and she watched as Fleur Delacour walked gracefully out of the library. She decided it was going to be a very warm winter after all.
Pairing: Fleur/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2200+
Warnings: To state the obvious, femmeslash & sexual content
Summary: Clearing her throat, she stood up slowly and discreetly made to follow Fleur’s delicate footsteps. Her heart pounded and her thoughts spun with curiosity as she turned down the line of books Fleur had hidden herself behind.
A/N: Written for witchwinter. Kinks include school uniforms and library!sex.
Pretty One
A group of girls giggled as they peered past the bookshelf they were ‘hiding’ themselves behind; Hermione rolled her eyes for the fifth time in thirty minutes as she tapped her fingers impatiently and tried to focus on the text in front of her. Her homework was feeling like a chore. And Viktor wasn’t making it any easier, sitting there and watching her dumbly as if - in a library full of books - he had nothing to better entertain his attentions.
If he would just leave, she thought, it would simplify everything. She wouldn’t have his eyes boring into her, and his pack of admirers would totter off behind him. Two birds with one stone.
Viktor coughed and the girls gave high-pitched squeals as if he’d stood up and stripped off all his robes; Hermione ground her teeth in frustration and glared fiercely down at the information in her book, imploring it to soak into her brain quickly so she could move on.
It was an awful Christmas. The Yule Ball had been a disaster, with Ron’s jealous fit over her ‘fraternising with the enemy’, and now she had Viktor following her around everywhere so, between him and his groupies, she couldn’t get a moment’s peace. Then, of course, there was Rita Skeeter who was being a right pain the arse with her gossip-mongering. Hermione was really starting to wish she’d just skipped out on the Yule Ball and Triwizard festivities and, instead, just spent Christmas with her parents.
She had almost shut out the inane twittering, and adjusted to the leering of her Bulgarian companion when another distraction arrived. She only caught a glimpse of that silver hair as Fleur Delacour swept into the library, and it was enough for Hermione to feel her body temperature rise.
Hermione blinked a few times and tried to refocus her attention, but she could see the French girl moving closer to her. Her cheeks flushed and she tried very hard to pretend as though she had not noticed who had just entered the library. She tried even more desperately to push back the memory that had quite suddenly jumped to the forefront of her thoughts.
“You ar’ a pretty one.”
Hermione blinked and turned her gaze from the dance floor to the older girl that stood poised beside her. “Excuse me.”
“You,” Fleur repeated, dropping her voice and grazing Hermione’s lips with a single finger. “Ar’ very pretty. And you ‘ave such soft lips. And such beautiful curves.”
Hermione’s breath stopped short as she felt her face flush, and she found her eyes travelling over the older girl’s face - such beautiful eyes, seductive lips, glowing skin - and down along her elegant neck, to the dipping neckline of her dress robes that revealed subtle, teasing cleavage.
“What eez your name?” Fleur asked softly.
“Hermione.”
“And, ‘ow old ar’ you, ‘ermione?”
“Fifteen,” Hermione said faintly, feeling slightly warmer, enjoying the way her own name rolled off the French girl’s tongue.
“Mmmm,” Fleur murmured with a knowing smile. She looked at Hermione fondly and then whispered. “I ‘ope to see more of you, soon.”
Hermione’s attention snapped back to the present time and place, and she saw Fleur pass behind her, her lips curved in a mischievous smile. She brushed her hand across Hermione’s shoulder and slipped off behind a shelf. Hermione hesitated a moment, glancing cautiously at the brooding Bulgarian that sat only feet from her, and the girls that stood only feet from him.
Clearing her throat, she stood up slowly and discreetly made to follow Fleur’s delicate footsteps. Her heart pounded and her thoughts spun with curiosity as she turned down the line of books Fleur had hidden herself behind.
There she was, standing against one of the library’s windows, frosted over with ice, though Hermione wouldn’t have been surprised if it had melted clean away from Fleur Delacour’s touch.
“Mm, I knew you would follow,” the silver-hair girl said with a seductive smile, reaching out and running a finger along the side of Hermione’s face. “Zat your curious little mind could not resist.”
Hermione’s breaths were uneven and she looked at Fleur with wide eyes; she swallowed audibly as she thought of what to say, but Fleur saved her the trouble by leaning in and kissing her gently on the lips. Hermione closed her eyes and savoured the sweet touch of the French girl’s lips and the warm taste of her tongue.
It was so different than kissing Viktor. So much better.
“Mmm,” Fleur laughed softly. “I am glad I ‘ave finally found somezeeng to keep me warm in ‘zis awful, draughty castle.”
Fleur’s hand drifted to the bottom hem of her top and lifted it up, revealing her bare breasts to Hermione, who almost whimpered at the sight of them. “Kiss me,” Fleur asked throatily. Hermione gave a soft murmur of assent and pressed her mouth to the soft skin of Fleur’s breast, pressing her tongue against her hard nipple before beginning to suckle gently. Fleur gave a satisfied moan and Hermione felt as two soft hands travelled upwards along her burning thighs and gripped her arse.
“Meet me ‘ere,” she rasped. “Tonight.”
Hermione moved her kisses up to Fleur’s neck and gave a murmur of assent.
“Wear nu’zing, but ‘zis tie,” she instructed, “’zese skirt, and ‘zese socks.”
Hermione swallowed hard, feeling completely breathless at the request. She gazed with excited astonishment at Fleur’s flushed porcelain face, and nodded. Fleur pulled her top back down, stealing the sight of her bare breasts away.
“I will see you tonight, ’ermione.”
Hermione’s heart pounded as she slipped out of the dormitory that night. She had on a dressing gown, but underneath she wore exactly what Fleur had asked: nothing but her uniform skirt, her Gryffindor tie, and her Gryffindor knee socks. Her thoughts were enough to keep her warm against the winter chill, though Hermione was quite sure she would die of mortification if anyone caught her out in such attire, or lack thereof.
Of course, she reassured herself, It’s highly doubtful that any Professor stop and ask me to take off my dressing gown.
And so, with trembling limbs, Hermione set out quietly for the library. She crept in, stopping for a moment to watch as snow fell gently from the sky, then gazing with appreciation at the soft moonlight cast on the sleeping books. She gave a slight smirk because it was definitely not the first time she’d been in the library after hours; though, certainly never for this reason.
Her first instinct was to go back to the corner where she and Fleur had kissed earlier that day; she found it easily, but Fleur was not there. Hermione bit her lip, troubled and starting to doubt her own sanity. Oh, I’m such a fool, she began to chide herself - until she saw someone moving past the shelves.
Hermione crept carefully towards the figure, and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Fleur, clothed in a silk nightgown. A shiver ran through Hermione’s spine at the vision, and she felt herself tingle with a spark of desire and anticipation.
Fleur stopped right under a cast of moonlight; it washed over her, making her seductive beauty even more enchanting. She caught Hermione’s eye and flashed her that curved smile again, before slowly pulling her silk nightgown off and letting it fall to the floor, where it pooled around her graceful feet.
Hermione gave a small, appreciative gasp as her eyes rested on Fleur’s nude body; she wore nothing but the light of the moon. Fleur lifted her hand, motioning for Hermione to come to her, and Hermione beckoned, stripping off her own nightgown and dropping it to the floor.
Fleur smirked at the sight of the younger girl’s breasts and the red and gold tie that had settled itself between them. Her eyes feasted longingly on the thighs that peeked out from under her pleated skirt. “You follow instructions very well, ’ermione..”
Fleur slid onto the table before them, and Hermione followed her lead. “Lie back for me,” Fleur asked, and again, Hermione did as she was told.
Fleur moved her hands up along Hermione’s socks, then grazed her thighs with her manicured fingernails before finding her way to Hermione’s bare arse. Hermione moaned as one of Fleur’s fingers slid down along her arse, towards the top of her inner thigh. Then she whimpered and closed her eyes as she felt Fleur begin to massage her with a gentle touch, but torturous rhythm.
“Open your eyes,” Fleur commanded. Hermione did, and she saw Fleur in front of her, on her knees, her hands occupied with Hermione’s body. Hermione watched her as she licked her lips and moved her fingers faster, and Hermione felt herself getting hotter and wetter with each passing movement. She felt herself desiring more. She didn’t want to just watch Fleur, she wanted to touch her. She wanted to grip her arse, she wanted to taste that perfect kiss again, as well as those perfect breasts.
“Fleur,” she begged. “I want… to feel you against me.”
“As you wish,” Fleur said with a smile, and she crawled closer to Hermione, opening her path with her mouth, trailing along Hermione’s hot skin. She was soon pressed on top of Hermione, and Hermione wrapped her legs around her, glad to feel Fleur’s heated body between her thighs as she worked her closer to an orgasm.
Fleur’s mouth found Hermione’s and their tongues met in a passionate kiss as Hermione arched herself upwards, grinding her hips eagerly against Fleur’s hand for more. Suddenly, Fleur took her hand away and Hermione let out a disappointed moan, but she was soon relieved with another ripple of pleasure as Fleur dipped her head down between Hermione’s legs and licked her with her talented French tongue. Hermione felt her swirl and suckle at her, and she grunted with frustration as she felt beads of sweat forming on the surface of her skin.
“Fleur,” she cried, grabbing a fistful of the silk-like silver hair as she felt Fleur’s fingers slide against her arse. She felt the pleasure build inside her, and she begged and cried for a climax; finally, she came with a shudder, and as the last wave of pleasure washed over her, she felt Fleur lay gentle kisses on her thighs as she sat back up.
She smirked as she watched Hermione lay panting on the table. Then, sitting with her legs propped open, she reached forward and pulled Hermione’s tie, tugging her towards her. Hermione’s hands found Fleur’s thighs and she gripped her tightly as she brought her lips to Fleur’s breasts and began to suckle hungrily upon her hardened nipple.
“You ar’ so eager, ‘ermione,” Fleur breathed.
“You’re enchanting,” Hermione said, pulling her mouth away from Fleur’s nipple tracing her open mouth along her chest, causing the French girl to tremble.
“And such a fast learner,” Fleur gasped.
“I’ve always been a good student,” Hermione said with a smirk.
“And ‘ere I ‘zought you were shy,” Fleur laughed, leaning over and returning Hermione’s favour, nipping slightly at her breast before stopping and looking at her with a burning power in her eyes. “Get on your knees.”
Hermione obeyed and once, a ripple of exhilaration rushing through her as Fleur sat behind her. Hermione’s bare arse was revealed from under her skirt, and Fleur ran her hands along it, kissing her thighs, wet with the come of her orgasm. She fingered her again, and Hermione thought the sensation was almost too much to bear. But Fleur continued, her lips now travelling along the bare skin of Hermione’s exposed bottom. She gave her a small spank and Hermione gasped before biting her lip with a grin of enjoyment. She arched her back upwards, pushing herself against Fleur’s clever fingers, and her eyes rolled back as she felt herself come again.
“Oh,” she moaned.
Fleur then slid her body underneath Hermione’s, stopping so that Hermione’s head was at her hips. Hermione did not hesitate to echo Fleur’s earlier demonstration, dipping her head downwards between her thighs to find her wet and begging for her own wave of ecstasy.
Fleur’s hands moved forward to Hermione’s neck, encouraging her head’s downward movement; she moved her hips in a rocking motion as Hermione’s tongue took soft, delicate tastes before moving again with a fiercer hunger. She enjoyed the sounds of Fleur’s throaty moans and whimpers as she brought her closer to her climax, and let herself be guided by Fleur’s rocking motions, telling her how she wanted to be licked.
Hermione dug her fingernails into Fleur’s soft thighs as she brought the girl to her orgasm, and listened with satisfaction to Fleur’s gasp as her body shook with pleasure.
As the heat of the afterglow receded, the wintry temperature rushed upon them, and Hermione found herself quickly pulling her thick nightgown back over her goosebump-ridden skin.
“You are ‘ere in ‘ze library often, no?” Fleur said quietly, kissing Hermione’s neck.
“Yes,” Hermione said with a nod. “I’m here a lot.”
“’Zen,” Fleur whispered huskily in Hermione’s ear, her sly smile reappearing. “I shall wait in ‘ze corners, and watch you, and ‘zink about what I would like to be doing to you. And, when you least expect me, I will pull you off to ‘ze side and show you what I’ve been fantasising.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Hermione said breathlessly, and she watched as Fleur Delacour walked gracefully out of the library. She decided it was going to be a very warm winter after all.