Hey guys so I actually wrote the Bill is a cuck fic I talked about a year ago. Kind of surprised me too XD. But well here it is. Hope ya'll like.
CHAPTER 1: Who's Fucking Who
There's an indescribable feeling when you allow a person to be primal in their full capacity. In their most basic of needs. The sensation is indescribable and all consuming as you allow them to experience. To feel.
The sensation as a beautiful woman allows you to adore her, to feel her, to lavish her. To devour her.
"Merde,"
Her every fiber underneath your own, the otherworldly feeling as you feel her respond to your thrusts with fluid motions of her own. Meeting you thrust for thrust as you lose yourselves in each other.
As you stare into her eyes and wonder how you could be this lucky. Negating the true reason for your coupling. The reasons that brought you both together in this intimate embrace.
You hear a thud and are glaringly reminded of why you're here.
You're fucking Bill Weasley's wife because he can't get it up to do the deed himself.
You're here to help them conceive.
You fight back the anger that threatens to course through you as you focus on your partner.
And you will yourself to forget that her husband is a grade a cuck.
If only for a moment as you feel her arms wrap around you, feel her gentle caresses. And come to the hard realization that you're absolutely fucked because you think you just might be in love with this woman.
Before you can even begin to think on the matter you feel the familiar sensation of an oncoming orgasm. Feel as Fleur's walls start to contract around you and you mutter "I t-think I'm close"
Fleur's eyes go wide and she fights to suppress a moan that forces its way out, she nods and shudders "come inside me" and you lose all restraint. You thrust into her at a faster pace as you feel her nails dig into your back. Allowing the waves of ecstasy that hit you to course through as you both meet each others thrusts in a frenzy, through your shared orgasm.
You capture her lips in yours as you both come down from your high and allow yourselves to revel in the sensation. In the afterglow.
A thud is heard and you both are brought back to your reality. Bill.
You know what comes next. The same thing that happens every time. Every. Damned. Time.
You look at Fleur and she sighs, "I think you should go,"
The look in her eyes say otherwise and you almost want to argue against the request but you reluctantly nod and pull out. Fleur makes a delicious noise as you remove yourself and you have to will yourself not to climb back atop her and take her again. And again.
With as much haste as you're able to, you put on your clothes, you turn to cast one last look at Fleur before you open the door.
You meet Bill's pool blue eyes, and will yourself not to punch this man in the face. He has a wild look about him; despair, anger, anxiety. The undercurrent of thick lust does not escape you as he rushes past and shuts the door behind him.
You take a shuddering breath as you force yourself to walk away from the moans that start to come out. His moans.
You make your way out of Shell Cottage with all the willpower you can muster and apparate back home to Grimmauld Place.
You can't shake the feeling of regret that remains.
As you appear inside the kitchen of Grimmauld place you hear Harry and Ron's gruff voices.
"Mione that you?" Ron asks.
Making your way through the home you find the boys sitting across from each other in the living room. Beer in each hand.
"Just got in," you say. You dare not tell them where you've actually been.
"A bit late isn't it?" Harry says as he takes a sip from his beer.
Shrugging you say, "had some important paperwork that couldn't wait," this seems to do the trick as the boys take your lie for fact and resume their talks of auror patrols. Harry hands you a beer as you give him a grateful smile and take the bottle in hand.
Settling in for the night you listen on as Ron makes an animated show of hands at a particularly funny incident that occurred while on patrol. You laugh in turn at the punch line and nod at the important bits. While you think on to how you found yourself in this predicament.
It'd all started two months prior.
You'd found yourself talking to Harry and Ron, on an evening much like this one, about your day to day jobs at the ministry, over beers.
After the war and your subsequent search for your parents the three of you had decided to move into Grimmauld place together. You were all adults in all perpetuity and after the shared ordeal you'd all gone through together, it just made perfect sense too. Just three mates supporting each other through adulthood much as you'd done during your formative teenage years. Harry and Ron had each gone on to take positions as Aurors after a rigorous training camp. As for yourself, you'd undertaken a position under the department of magical law and regulations. And where making a proper name for yourself with regards to the long-overdue-overhaul of current magical laws with regards to creature and muggle born rights.
"Overheard mum and dad talking about Bill and Fleur having trouble getting pregnant," Ron had said.
You'd raised your eyebrows in question but had not inquired further, subjects such of that nature were intimate and not meant to be treated as idle gossip.
"This is highly inappropriate Ronald," you'd found yourself saying, Harry nodding alongside.
Shrugging an inebriated Ron had responded with a wink, "Come on Mione, its just us lads, we all got willy waggles here,"
You'd rolled your eyes at the crass terminology and had instantly regretted ever telling the boys about your extra appendage. A fact that you'd had to admit to them while on the run during the war.
As the night had progressed you hadn't touched on the subject of Bill and Fleur's conception troubles further and the topic had progressed to lighter subjects like Ron's mum inviting the lot of you over for dinner at the burrow.
You and Harry had happily agreed. And of course how could you not. It was the Weasley's, the family that had more or less adopted you and Harry as one of their own throughout your introduction into the magical world.
And all of Ron's siblings would be there to boot, what more reason did you have for not attending.
You had of course not counted on a particular set of urgent documents to hit your desk the night of the dinner and you'd found yourself hurring out of your office twenty minutes late, muttering under your breath, "Bullocks,"
Not knowing the plans set in motion in your absence.
—- x —-
Two Months Prior : Burrow
It was pleasant as rain all through the house, there were many a Weasley mulling about. Engaging in small talk and tid bits of fun. No one could have predicted Ron's mouth running amuck.
As William Weasley and his wife Fleur had arrived a tense air could be felt about them. From their rigid postures to the slight sleep deprivation etched on their faces, it was evident to anyone that there was something off about them.
No doubt the result of the rumor mill going about, they'd been having troubles conceiving and the strain had started to get to them. No thanks to Ron's big mouth, it would seem all of the Weasley siblings were aware of the issue and thus had decided not to pry.
"They know," an agitated Bill whispers to his wife.
Fleur tries to reassure her husband, "zey know nozing mon amour,"
This does little to quell Bill's spiking anxiety as he whispers back in turn, "They do, they know that I'm impotent," he'd been having trouble getting it up with regards to their sex life and it had begun to heavily weigh on the couple. Much as the french witch had tried to reassure her husband, that it would come to pass, it had done little to quell the growing agitation in the man.
Fleur sighs at this but tries to reassure her husband once more nonetheless. "Zey do not-
"I'm not saying she's got a sizable trout in her pants bu-" the boisterous voice of Ron Weasley exclaims as Fleur finds herself drowned out by the loud youngest Weasley son.
"Shut it Ron!," Ginny Weasley chastises, "I don't think that Hermione would appreciate you telling her business to everyone!"
This earns her an eye roll from Ron, "Oh come on, I can at least be appreciative of it, after our trip through the countryside during the war and the parade of girls that comes and goes from Grimmauld,"
Harry chimes in at that, "I have to agree with Gin mate,"
Ron huffs, "Wet blankets the lot of you,"
The three soon turn their conversion to other topics unaware of the extra set of ears listening in. Unaware of the wheels beginning to turn in the eldest Weasley son's head. A pensive look about him.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur as Hermione Granger eventually arrives with many an apology for the lateness of her arrival. Mrs Weasley re-assures the harried girl that 'its no trouble at all, just happy you could make it love,' and they all find themselves tucking into a meal fit for a king.
As they all load their respectives plates small talk is exchanged between the various Weasley siblings, their parents and their guests.
"Mione, a letter from that russian girl you brought over the other night arrived before we left Grimmauld," Ron says as he stuffs a chicken leg into his mouth.
This earns him a groan from his friend, "I ended things with Oksana the other day," this earns her several raised eye-brows as all around the table look on with mixtures of amusement at the sheepish looking witch.
Sensing an imminent question she explains, "I'm just focused on my career at the moment, I've no time for a proper relationship,"
Harry chuckles at that, "That's what you said about the last two,"
"H-Harry!" Hermione's indignant protest.
This causes several chuckles throughout the table.
"Sounds like our shy bookworm has become a bit of a heart-breaker," George Weasley states as Charlie chimes in. "Bet you're beating them off with a broom"
Another round of laughs is had as all look on at the blushing young lady.
Across from her the french witch Fleur Weasley nee Delacour looks on, eyes unable to keep away from taking in the visage of the younger witch. Gone is the unmanageable bushy hair, the awkward stance, the uncoordinated manner of being. Replaced with stylish windswept-like hair, with a fashionable pair of black slacks and a proper button up shirt and business robe to boot is the adult Hermione Granger. A war hero. The Golden Girl. And it would seem Dedicated Ministry Official.
The look does not go unnoticed by her husband as the night progresses and a good time is had by all.
It would not be until several days later when an idea would unfold.
One Month and Three Weeks Prior: Shell Cottage
"Shiet" Bill Weasley exclaims as he gets up from his marriage bed. The man groans in frustration as he walks around in bare nakedness.
His wife sighs as she watches her frustrated husband walk about their room. After trying for what felt like the hundred time, they had once again been unsuccessful in engaging in the act of sex. Tried as they might William could not 'get it up' so to speak. No matter how much stimulation he received. They'd tried many different tricks to no avail.
The frustration mounting, they were coming to the conclusion that Bill might be what the texts indicated as a submissive werewolf.
As they'd researched into the cause for Bill's impotency they'd come across several sections in each text designating dominant and submissive werewolves and their various habits and managing their respective designations. While it was widely common for werewolves to be known as aggressive beings not to be trifled with, it was common fact that most did fall under the dominant category. However and much to their hard realization, it was possible for a small number to fall under the submissive side. And would therefore require a different approach to stimulation.
A rather unorthodox approach. As they'd come to understand, a submissive werewolf could only reach satisfaction by watching their partner get serviced by someone of an alpha type disposition. Only then could they hope to appropriately be able to 'get it up' to perform.
The man comes to a sudden stop from his pacing and his wife looks on in rapt attention. "I think I might be a submissive werewolf love," he turns to face his wife and she stares back with conflicting emotions.
"I don't know how to feel about zis William, perhaps we could talk to a healer?" she tries to offer.
The man shakes his head, a crazed look takes over, "Don't you see darling, this is the solution!" he exclaims.
"William, I am not sleeping wiz someone else," Fleur states.
This does little to dissuade the man as he pleads his case, "We want a family, I want that for us more than anything, this could be the only way."
Fleur looks away as she gathers the blankets to cover her naked body.
Seeing the reluctance in his wife's posture does little to dissuade the crazed looking man as he takes a seat beside his wife on the bed, "Darling please, think of our future, our family,"
Fleur does not meet his gaze.
Bill sighs as he reaches over and touches her cheek in a tender hold, "Do you love me?"
Fleur looks at him incredulously, "What kind of question is zat!? Of course I love you,"
Bill smiles at that, "Then please agree to this, for me,"
Fleur looks into her husband's eyes as she sees a multitude of emotions going through him, she stifles her unease and reluctantly nods.
A surge of emotion surges through Bill as he exclaims, "I've the perfect person in mind!"
Too wrapped up in his joy, he misses the look of despair that crosses his wife's face before she stifles it down to be happy for him.
—- x —-
One Month and Two Weeks Prior: Muggle London
Running into a muggle coffee shop in a not so well known section of muggle London, Hermione Granger makes her way towards the back, towards a table that has two occupants already with cups of coffee in hand.
"I'm so sorry for being late," Hermione explains, "I've loads of work at the moment with the upheaval of laws we've been seeing at rectifying for wizarding creatures of all kind,"
This emits an amused smile from Bill and an intrigued one from Fleur.
Hermione takes a seat as she takes in the couple sitting across from her. Bill looks agitated and Fleur looks like she'd rather be elsewhere. Odd.
"You're probably wondering why we asked you to meet us out of the blue," Bill says with firm conviction.
"A little, but I like to be helpful where I can," Hermione says, "So tell me what can I do for you,"
The young witch smiles at the couple and Fleur wants the earth to swallow her whole for what they're about to ask the poor unsuspecting witch.
"You may have heard that we have been having trouble conceiving," Bill says, Hermione uneasily nods.
"And as we've recently been made aware that you are uniquely suited to assisting us with this," Bill says.
Hermione looks on in mild alarm, "What?"
"I would like you to have sex with my wife," Bill states.
"P-Pardon?" Hermione is taken aback at the man's words.
"I would like you to have sex with my wife," he states once more.
This does little to abate the growing agitation on the younger witch as she looks between the two.
"You're serious?" Hermione states.
Bill nods.
Hermione draws an almost shaky breath as she tries to digest the information. She looks at Fleur.
"And you're ok with this Fleur?" she asks.
Fleur nods and utters a simple "Oui" the slightly strained tone does not go unnoticed by the younger witch as she shifts her gaze back to Bill.
"I don't know how I feel about this," she states, the entirety of the situation not quite sitting right with her.
"You would be helping Fleur and I tremendously," Bill states. This does little to quell the uncertainty felt by Hermione.
She does not say a word as the wizard starts to explain their circumstances. His submissive designation and their growing frustration at not being able to conceive their long desired child.
Hermione listens on in silence, not knowing how to proceed. She feels sympathetic to the man's plight and not, at the same time. Fleur's quiet demeanor does little to quell her growing concerns.
"I'll have to think on it," Hermione states as Bill finishes his 6th plea.
"You're the only one we can turn to for this," Bill states.
Hermione looks back with an incredulous look, "I'm sure there's a healer that would be well suited to assisting you both with this?"
Bill shakes his head, "No healer, n-no one can know,"
Hermione raises an eyebrow at that, "Bill I'm sure there are others who have experienced this before,"
"No one can know!" Bill states as he slams his hands on the table. The other patrons in the cafe turn to look at them for a few tense seconds before resuming their attention to their own conversations.
Hermione says nothing for a few seconds before nodding. "Very well, but give me a few days to think it over, yeah?" she gets up to leave.
Bill nods, "And if you could please not mention anything to anyone about this, we'd really appreciate it,"
Hermione looks back at him and nods, "you have my word,"
"We'll be waiting for your response a week from today, we'll leave the porch light on and the door unlocked," Bill says, the insinuation of the invitation does not fall on deaf ears as Hermione thickly swallows the bile that threatens to spill out. The severity of the situation settling in.
She nods and bids Bill and Fleur her goodbyes before making her way out of the cafe and down a discrete alleyway to apparate home.
Only once in the safety of her own room does she rush for the connecting bathroom to splash some water on her face.
'Have sex with my wife,'
The words play over and over in her head as she wills herself to understand. She could see Fleur's reluctance. See it clear as day. As well as the crazed look about Bill.
What had he called himself. A submissive werewolf?
She would have to do ample research on the matter before making her decision. She only had a week.
A week to decide wether or not she'd fuck Bill's wife. The thought does not displease her; she reluctantly admits to herself as she'd had a sizable crush on the french witch her fourth year, but the veela's disposition in the cafe quell whatever feelings she has.
She'd have to talk with Fleur the day of if she chose to do so. If she did agree to the act, she'd only proceed if she had Fleur's consent, no more no less. And Bill could go stuff it if he thought otherwise.
She'd also have to have a long conversation with Ron about telling people about her extra appendage. She had an inkling from where the couple might have heard about her anatomy, it certainly wasn't Harry.
'No one can know'
Right.
Hermione groans in frustration, why did he have to go and open his big mouth.
—- x —-
One Month and One Week Prior: Shell Cottage
Apparating before the beautiful home on the beach Hermione takes in a shaky breath.
After a decidedly long week of research she'd come to her decision. She looks at the lit porch light as she takes careful steps towards the door.
Taking in a calming breath she takes a hold of the door handle, turns the knob and opens it. Walking inside.