Fic: Love Honour and Obey (Bill/Fleur)
To: andrian1
From: rosesanguina

Title: Love Honour and Obey
Author: rosesanguina aka anjenue
Recipient's name: andrian1
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Bill/Fleur
Summary: Six months after his wedding, Bill doesn't recognise his wife anymore, and he's determined to figure out why.
Warnings: mild BDSM
Author's notes: Thank you to S and A for the betas. Happy Christmas, andrian1!



Fleur was late.

Again.

Bill brought a hand up to his face to rub the bridge of his nose, then winced as his fingertips dragged against the scars that he still sometimes forgot were there. The dull ache beneath the surface of his skin, nerve endings that had never quite healed and edges of skin that would never knit, only added to his grumpiness until he found himself in quite a foul mood altogether.

Every day for the past three weeks, she'd breezed in long after the hour they had designated as suppertime, perfect blonde hair spilling around her perfect white face, pretty French-tinged apologies on her lips as she set down her shopping bags and wrapped her arms around his neck, charm on full-force to distract him from her new hairstyle or manicure or jewelry. And Bill, damn him, had fallen for it every single time. He did love her, desperately, despite the fact that sometimes he felt like he was clinging to her to try and pretend he was still as beautiful as she. But this whole pattern of behaviour had to stop. She was really taking seriously the idea that she had to be beautiful enough for the both of them - she'd had a casual beauty before that he'd adored, knowing that she could roll out of bed in the morning and look just as gorgeous as she did after her full morning ritual, but she didn't do that anymore, didn't even really let him see her first thing in the morning, not until she was perfectly put together.

It had been gradual in its inception: the way she'd slipped out of bed as soon as she'd awoken instead of languishing lazily the way she'd so loved to do before, oftentimes making them both late for work with a kiss too heated to be left at that; the way she'd pulled him into the shower with her and wrapped herself around him such that it was not so much a shower as a very wet reminder of the previous night; the way she'd sleep in until noon on Sundays, allowing Bill the chance to sneak downstairs to make her breakfast in bed, and the way her eyes would light up when he woke her with her favourite crêpes that would quickly be forgotten as she dragged him back into bed for his reward. Little things, the absence of which could easily enough be chalked up to the time of year, the secretive behaviour that always seemed to crop up before Christmas, the work-related stress that seemed to hang over everyone like a dark cloud. But Bill knew her better than that.

He wondered if there were something else there, beneath all that, but when he'd asked her about it, she'd laughed her silvery little laugh and told him to stop being such a silly little cabbage, that everything was fine, that she'd have a surprise waiting for him when he got home. Usually that surprise was new lingerie or new restraints or some other new toy to play with, and Bill's concern and irritation would land forgotten on the floor along with his quickly-discarded clothes. After all, intelligent or not, caring or not, concerned husband or not, he was a man and she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Not this time though. This time he'd had enough. They'd been supposed to go to his mum's house for supper, and it wasn't something he could just let slide; he respected his mum far too much for that, and it wasn't fair to her to keep her waiting. He'd considered just going without Fleur, but he didn't fancy having to explain what was going on there when he himself didn't know, so instead he'd called her up, told her something had come up, and could they please reschedule for later in the week. His mum, of course, had been terribly concerned, but long years of practice at dispelling that concern had ended that conversation fairly quickly.

He shifted in his chair, crossing his legs and glaring at the door. She was three hours late now, his stomach was growling, which already made him cranky, and it was dark outside, which worried him even more, especially these days. There was no knowing who could be lurking around, and she was so light that she'd be easily spotted and such an easy target for...

'Ma chère, I am sorry I am so late!' came her melodious voice, the familiar apologies on her lips as she bustled through the door and set her bags down by it. She drew off her long wool coat, her scarf, her hat, hanging them neatly in the hall closet before checking her clothes and her hair in the hall mirror. She hadn't yet noticed Bill sitting in the armchair not ten feet from her, so engrossed was she in her own reflection. 'The Floo traffic was crazy today - the Noël rush, I should imagine, though I had not expected it so early this year--'

She turned around then and halted dead in her tracks, her smile freezing on her face and her words stuttering to a halt. Bill wasn't surprised. He didn't need a mirror to know that the expression on his scar-twisted face and the ethereal glow of his lycanthropic eyes in the shadows made him rather a terrifying sight.

'...What are you doing in the dark, my love?' she asked him, though her voice was a bit hesitant now, her steps even more so as she made her way across the hall, heels clicking on the marble floor. 'It is cold in here - you will catch your death if you-- William!'

She cried out in surprise as he grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her bodily forward to sprawl in his lap. It was undignified, the way she was forced to sit all askew, and he knew she hated that. And she knew he knew she hated that, which explained the thoroughly irritated look on her face as she twisted to look at him. 'Just what do you think you are doing?' she asked him in that low, dangerous voice that would usually make him cringe.

This time, though, he simply glared back at her, expression stony and grip bruising and unyielding on her delicate wrist.

'You,' he said in a low, dangerous voice, choosing his words carefully, 'have been extremely naughty as of late, Fleur my love. We have an arrangement for a reason, so we can make it a point to spend as much time together as possible, since neither of us knows when we might be called off to other things and maybe never see each other again. Or had you forgotten there's a war on?' he added mockingly, almost relishing the way she flinched at the word.

'I don't--'

'Not only that,' he interrupted her, 'but you've also been behaving like a spoilt child. You spend all of your time and all of your money buying pretty things for yourself when there are much more important things to do, where the Fleur I know and love would never dream of being so flippant about things, and you won't even look me in the eye most of the time these days. You won't even look at me when we fuck anymore, Fleur. Am I hideous? Do you regret marrying me? I may be scarred and damaged, but I'm still your husband, and you promised to love, honour, and obey me. I'm not letting that slide just because you're so beautiful and I'm-- I couldn't pray to win anyone half what you are now.'

'But--'

'No,' he said. 'I'm tired of your excuses, Fleur. If you behave like a child trying to charm me into giving you your way, that's exactly how I'll treat you.'

Catching her around the waist, he jerked her over until she was sprawled across his lap, ignoring her yelps and her struggling as he arranged her over his knees with her arse in the air. He admired her for a moment, struck by the way she managed to be refined and elegant even like this. Then his heart hardened and he slid his hand down from her waist to the hem of her dress.

'Fils de pute de merde du cul de diable...' she cursed as he pulled the expensive fabric up, tucking it around her hips. He'd always thought the tiny knickers she wore were appealing, but now they were even more so, as they left her arse practically bare.

'Language,' he snapped, and then raised his hand, bringing it down against the white skin with a smart smack!

Fleur froze, all her muscles going tense, and then resumed struggling, clawing at his legs (there was a reason he'd worn his leather trousers) and trying to kick him in the head. 'Aux pelotes!' she shrieked, which only earned her another smack, a matching pink handprint filling in on her other arsecheek.

'I suggest you curb your swearing,' he said pleasantly, smacking her again. 'I'm going to teach you a lesson one way or another, but I can keep at this as long as it takes for you to learn it.'

She twisted her head to look up at him, blonde hair a mess around her darkly flushed face and silver-blue eyes flashing, and god he'd forgotten how hot she was when she wasn't trying to be. Then, her expression shifted, and she gave him such a brilliant smile that he almost relented.

'Va t'enculer,' she said sweetly.

Well. So much for relenting. Now he was really pissed off.

'That's it,' he growled, eyes narrowing, and shoved her down with a hand between her shoulderblades. Bracing her there with his forearm against her spine, he began to spank her in earnest, stinging slaps that turned her entire arse and the tops of her thighs bright scarlet. He'd never dared to hurt her before, scared of how the wolf would react, but he was furious enough to almost forget that for the time being. Despite the fact that he was careful enough not to hit her too hard, her muscles tensed every time he brought his hand down, and every smack made her whole body jerk and drew a muffled cry. His prick hardened at her reactions, and when it started to become uncomfortable, he paused and took a deep breath, determined not to let her get to him again until he'd finished making his point known.

On the next smack, though, he noticed that instead of shrinking away from it, she moved with it, into it, letting the force of the movement drive her hips down against his thigh. He blinked, gritting his teeth as he hardened still further, nearly to the point of pain. Surely she wasn't...

He smacked her again, this time across the tops of her thighs, and felt it again, this time coupled with a very soft moan, ragged enough to be mistaken as a sound of pain, but he knew her better than that.

Punishment forgotten, he moved his hand, sliding the heel up to the undercurve of her arse, and stretched his fingers out against the apex of her thighs. The satin of her knickers was soaked through, and she shuddered as his fingertips brushed against her cunt, hips moving in a definite writhe against his thighs.

'Please,' she whispered, the first English word she'd spoken in quite some time. Unsure whether she meant please stop or please more, he parted her thighs just enough so he could work two fingers beneath the flimsy fabric. She moaned again, one hand clutching at his ankle and her forehead pressing against his shin, and his cock twitched at that, hips shifting against the seat of his chair. He knew that he shouldn't be letting her affect him like this, not when he wasn't even sure if she'd learned anything, but it had been so long since she'd been uninhibited in anything that the raw want in her voice left him unable to resist.

Taking a breath to curb the animal lust gripping him, he twisted his hand, pushing his fingers further inside her. She was so tight, tighter than he remembered her being even the first time, and her muscles gripped his fingers fiercely as she writhed, pressing herself against his leg. He shuddered at that, biting back a moan of his own, and let his arm slip from her back. The moment he did, she pressed one hand against the floor and pushed back against him, forcing his fingers deeper still; they hissed in tandem, his hips rocking up against her belly as hers pressed down against his thigh.

'Bill,' she breathed, the word hoarse and hungry on her lips, and he growled, spreading his fingers inside her. When the satin restricted his movement, he snarled, catching hold of the thin string with his free hand and yanking until it snapped. He relished her groan, tugging the ruined fabric free, and dragged his thumb up over the heated flesh of her arse to trace her cleft, teasing the pad against her hole. Her nails dug into his ankle, beneath the leather, as she rocked against him again, down against his fingers, and then back against his thumb.

All of a sudden, he found himself overwhelmed with the need to see her face, to look into her eyes the way he hadn't been allowed these last several weeks, to taste her and smell her and watch her as he fucked her, and he pulled his fingers out, greedily swallowing her whine of protest as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked her juices from his fingers.

She twisted to look at him, confusion and a hint of hurt burning in her eyes, and he sucked in a breath at how wild she looked, wild and untamed and so beautiful it made his heart ache. This was the Fleur he remembered, the one he'd fallen in love with, and he needed to remind himself that he still had her, that she was still here and still his and still real. Sliding an arm beneath her, he lifted her bodily, twisting her so she faced him and settling her in his lap. Immediately, she shifted forward against him, wrapping one arm around his neck and crushing her breasts against his chest as she kissed him roughly, tongue sliding into his mouth. He growled again against her lips, driving his hips up against her body as her hips twisted down against his. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging at it and making her writhe, as her free hand slid between them to find the fastenings of his trousers. They were worn and comfortable, which is why he had chosen these particular trousers, but notoriously difficult to unfasten, also on purpose, and he lost patience after a moment, yanking his wand from his sleeve and banishing both his trousers and his shorts.

That was all the incentive Fleur needed. With a barely-human groan, she caught hold of the base of Bill's cock and held it still, rubbing her wet lips against the head before pushing straight down onto it in one sharp movement that made them both groan. He tightened his arms around her and thrust up into her, snarling at the way she clenched around him and writhed in his embrace; her head fell back at his sudden movement, and he sealed his mouth against her throat, sucking until he could taste blood. Her nails bit into his shoulders, fingers twisting in his hair and pulling as she snapped her hips down against his in fast, brutal counterpoint.

Desperate for more, Bill found the zipper of her dress and dragged it down so he could pull the fabric off her shoulders; letting it fall to her waist, he bent his head to suck on her clavicle as he tugged her bra down enough to free her breasts. She hissed, hips jerking and nails digging into his scalp as he took her nipple into his mouth and bit down. He wanted to devour her, to mark every inch of her, to reclaim her so she would be his Fleur again and not the stranger he'd been living with of late, and she seemed to be receptive enough, his name falling unchecked from her lips as she clutched his head to her and fucked herself on him harder and faster.

One of his hands dragged up her spine to palm the back of her neck while the other slipped beneath her dress to rest against the heated flesh of her arse, fingers seeking out her hole and moving over it in rhythm with their thrusts against each other. Fleur cried out, muscles tightening around his cock, and he growled, teeth clamping down inadvertently against her nipple until she screamed, fingers twisting in his hair hard enough to pull tears from his eyes and arm clutching at his neck suffocatingly as her hips jerked and her cunt clenched in a delicious rhythm that dragged his orgasm from him as well in violent white-hot pulses.

Fleur slumped against him, breathing hard, and the sudden dead weight knocked him back against the back of the chair, pinning him there. He didn't care though; he felt so alive, the tension of the last several weeks drained from his body and the worry and anger and concern sapped from him along with his strength. His hands moved over her back in soothing, patternless strokes, and he opened his eyes as she lifted her head, smiling at her and thrilling as she smiled back. She looked completely undone, her lipstick smeared, her hair a mess, her skin flushed and mottled with heat and the purpling bruises where his mouth had been, and he thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

'I love you,' he murmured, voice hoarse but rife with honesty as he looked straight into her silver-glistening eyes, brushing her hair back from her face. 'I love you, the Fleur I married, the Fleur I fell in love with all those months ago, the Fleur who laughs with me and jokes with me and doesn't care about morning breath when I kiss her and drags me into the shower and sucks me off before work. I miss that. I miss the way we used to be before you started...'

The smile on her face wavered, and then suddenly she was clinging to him, silent sobs wracking her body. Shocked and suddenly concerned, he held her tightly, murmuring soothing nonsense to her as he smoothed her hair and stroked her back. After a few long moments, she pulled back, tears in her eyes.

'I thought...I thought maybe you would not think I was beautiful anymore,' she said, voice thick with emotion, as she studied the movement of her fingers over the freckled skin of his shoulder. 'That you would...that I wouldn't...'

Bill stared at her, totally lost. 'What are you talking about?' he asked in confusion, pulling her close again. 'All I know is that all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, you stopped letting me see you anymore, and you always had to be perfectly put together and perfectly made up, and you're always beautiful, but like that you feel like a stranger. I think you're gorgeous just the way you are, just like this, and I miss it. I miss you.'

Fleur shivered, arms tightening around him for a moment, and then leaned down, clenching around his softened cock to keep him inside her. She picked up Bill's wand from where he'd dropped it and straightened, Summoning her shopping bags from the door. Bill watched curiously, hands sliding down to the small of her back, as she took a deep breath and reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tiny, soft dress in pale pink, handing it to him with a worried smile.

Bill blinked, staring at the dress, and then his eyes widened and he stared up at her. 'You're...'

She nodded, brow furrowed and teeth sinking into her swollen lip. 'With...with the war going on and all, I know it is not really the time, so I did not know how to tell you, but...'

The confusion and worry twisting through Bill's chest turned into sudden excitement and happiness, and he grinned, wrapping his arms around her tightly and burying his face against her throat. She stiffened for a moment, startled, and then relaxed into his embrace with one last sob.

'You are not angry?' she asked him, her voice muffled against his hair.

'Angry?' he repeated, and pulled back to look at her. 'I just wish you'd told me sooner. I've been so irritated all this time and I...'

He flinched, remembering what he'd just done, and turned white. 'Oh god. Did I hurt you?' he asked in a whisper, feeling his heart clench as he awaited her response with dread.

She smiled though, and brought her hand up to his cheek. 'No,' she said softly. 'I am fine. I promise. I promise,' she repeated when he obviously looked unconvinced, eyes flashing in an echo of the old fiery Fleur. 'You did not hurt me. In fact, I was getting tired of you treating me like you were going to break me, so I am glad that's out of the way. And if you start doing that to me now or make any other reference to me being in a "delicate condition", I swear to you you will regret it.'

'As you say, mademoiselle,' Bill replied. He still felt awful about what he'd done though, and he was about to apologise again when she lifted her hand and smacked him across the face.

'Ow!' he protested, though it hadn't hurt so much as surprised him. 'What was that for?'

'You were going to apologise,' she said. 'I know you, William Weasley. Do not try to feign innocence.'

'Okay, okay,' he said, grinning at her. There was his Fleur, and having her back made him feel so exultant he thought he could fly. He held her closer for a moment, one hand sliding between them to brush against her belly, and then furrowed his brow, giving her a curious look. 'There's one thing I don't understand though. Why all this shopping? I mean, I can understand the...the hair thing and the jewelry thing and all if you were trying to look...less whatever, but...I haven't seen you wearing any new clothes lately. Surely there isn't any need for you to have bought so many clothes for one little baby.'

Fleur smiled at him, and leaned down again, pulling out something else and handing it to him. He stared at it, fingers sliding over the blue fleece, and then stared up at her again, making her laugh, but a real laugh this time.

'Two,' she murmured. 'We are having twins.'