FIC--La Playa--Harry/Ginny
Mar. 28th, 2006 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: La Playa
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry and Ginny
Words: 1457
Summary: Originally written for the
hpgw_ficafest. Harry and Ginny have differing ideas about how to spend their time on a private beach. Part of the Future Plans Universe.
Notes: I forgot that I hadn't posted this here, so I am rectifying hte situation. Thanks to
velvethope for the beta on this and
bibliophile20 for the idea...

I let my head fall back against the sand in release. I can’t believe we just did that. On a beach. In Mexico. But that was the best damned way to be alone, if you ask me. He falls to the side with his arm across me and breathes into my ear.
“You. Fabulous,” he whispers. He sounds like he just ran a marathon or chased Ron across the paddock for taking his Firebolt without asking. I prefer ‘Breathy from Shagging’ Harry.
“So, what’s next? You said you had the whole day planned.”
“Just this.”
I furrow my brow. “Sex? That’s all you wanted to do here is shag?” I sigh, wondering what in the world possessed him to think that. We’ve had sex in our state room on the ship, the elevator—THREE times, no less, and in a stupid little bathroom stall after brunch yesterday. “All you want to do today is have sex on a private beach?” I sit up and look down at him. Bugger’s almost asleep, so I give him a good slap on the shoulder. “Harry! I want to see Cancun! You booked this bloody cruise for me, and now I want to enjoy the sites.” Well, the site of Harry lying naked in front of me on a white sand beach was a fabulous one, but that just wasn’t the point.
“Ginny, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any energy right now, okay? Leave me alone unless you want to do it again.” He rolls over and pulls the towel over him. Dammit!
Great, we’ve been married a whole four days, and we’re fighting about sex. I didn’t think that was supposed to happen for another five years or something. I pull my bikini back on and attempt to wipe the sand off my body. Whose stupid idea was it for us to leave our wands at home? Hermione. I remind myself to mess with her when I get home. I’d give anything for a Cleansing Charm right now.
I look down at Harry and notice he’s sleeping. Figures. Now what am I supposed to do? I pick up my bag off the beach, looking for my sunglasses and the sunscreen Hermione told me to buy, because again, without my wand, I can’t do a Protection Charm. I see something at the bottom of the bag that draws my attention and I dig around and pull it out. The Mickey Mouse ears. Perfect.
I look back over at Harry and notice he’s rolled onto his back. “You’re making this too easy, love.” I kneel down next to him in the sand and place the childish hat on his head and begin to pile the fine sand against his body. I grimace when the sand starts to fall back, but I am encouraged to find the sand a bit damp the further I dig. I continue piling sand on him and then move to the other side. If he moves, my work will be ruined.
Once on the other side, my hands make quick work of burying him. He’s covered now with a good amount of sand from the waist down. He’ll have a hell of a time getting all of that sand out of his orifices and the like, but oh well. Somehow, though, it’s not enough. I need to do more.
When we were at Disney World, Harry was really taken with the bird that was dressed up as a mermaid. What was her name? I pace back and forth, trying to remember the character.
“Ariel! The Little Mermaid!” I scream for joy and fall back onto the sand, piling sand onto my new husband’s chest with a mischievous smile on my face. Fred and George will be so proud of me. “Under the sea, under the sea. Darling, it’s better, down where it’s wetter, take it from me!” I sing. Good thing Harry’s asleep or he’d tell me I sound worse than Crookshanks in a battle.
The sand isn’t sticking the way I’d like it to, so in desperation, I retrieve my water bottle from the bag and mix it with the sand. It’s just the right consistency now. I am giddy with anticipation as I scoop the wet sand onto him where breasts would be, if he were female. I add a bit more water and he’s got a set that would rival Padma Patil’s. The finishing touches, the nipples, are done with little shells from my bag. Perfect mermaid complete with tail and scales.
I look at Harry the Mermaid and stifle a laugh. His after-sex naps are never long, so I don’t have much time left. I open my bag again and pull out the Muggle camera Dad got for us. I close my eyes, trying to remember how Hermione showed me how to use it, and once satisfied with my recollections, I look through the view finder and click the shutter. Eight times.
Satisfied that I have enough blackmail material for the early years of our marriage, I pull on my tank top, tie the sarong around my waist and wait for him to wake up.
----------------
It’s hot. How long have I been asleep? I open my eyes and see Ginny sitting on my right, reading a book. She looks hacked off at me, and I decide to try and make amends.
I try to sit, but feel like I’m in a full Body-Bind. I scowl at her. “What did you do? Didn’t you give your wand to Hermione?”
“You know I did.”
“So why can’t I get up?” Before the words are off my lips, I look down. Now she’s done it. I have sand breasts with perky little sea shell nipples. “Funny, Gin, real funny.” I pick the ‘nipples’ off me and brace myself while I bend at the waist. “A tail, too? Oh you are so dead, Weasley.”
“Potter! I’m Potter now. How could you forget?” I can’t quite tell if she’s mad or not. The sun’s in my eyes. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
With great effort, I pull myself up and stand. There’s sand all over me. Everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE. I look down at my bits and shake my head. “Well, that’s never going to come out!” I’ve got sand in the hair on my legs and on my chest. And in my butt. “Damn it, Gin! How’d it get up my arse? That itches something fierce, you know!” I reach back and begin to scratch. There’s really no dignified way of digging sand out of your arse, and I soon join in with Ginny’s laughter.
“Did I take the mickey out of you, Mickey?”
“Huh?” I groan. The ears. I reach up to my head and remove the Mickey Mouse ears she bought for me and throw them to the ground. The same ears she put on me this morning. She even had the balls to take pictures of my role-playing. “Oh no.” She better not have. However, the smile on her face tells me otherwise. “Where’s the camera, Gin? Please tell me you left it in the room.”
“Oh, don’t get all Auror on me, Harry. You deserved it.” She stands up and moves in front of me. “You knew how much this meant to me, and all you wanted to do was…”
She never finishes her accusation. I pull her to me and plant a big wet kiss on her luscious mouth. She tastes so damn good. She relaxes against me and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. For someone who didn’t like the idea of shagging on a beach all day, she sure is receptive. And so am I.
“Harry, no! We are NOT having sex on the beach again!” I start to laugh. “It’s not funny, Harry!”
“I’m not laughing at you, love. Sex on the Beach. That drink you like so much,” I remind her.
“Oh, you are just bad,” she says with a pout. “And…deflate that…thing.” She shakes her finger, pointing at my saluting cock.
“Thing? You’re calling The One-Eyed Wonder a ‘thing’? I’m gonna get you for that!” I march towards her and she breaks out in a run toward the ocean. The waves crash against her as I give chase, salt water washing the blasted sand off me. I catch her around the waist and release the skirt-thing she’s wearing and let it float along the ocean breeze. “Help me wash up, please.” I nuzzle her neck and run my hands over her now damp skin, dipping my fingers into her bikini bottoms.
“Fine,” she moans. “But not on the beach. In the waves.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, love.”
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry and Ginny
Words: 1457
Summary: Originally written for the
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Notes: I forgot that I hadn't posted this here, so I am rectifying hte situation. Thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
La Playa
~*~-
~*~-
I let my head fall back against the sand in release. I can’t believe we just did that. On a beach. In Mexico. But that was the best damned way to be alone, if you ask me. He falls to the side with his arm across me and breathes into my ear.
“You. Fabulous,” he whispers. He sounds like he just ran a marathon or chased Ron across the paddock for taking his Firebolt without asking. I prefer ‘Breathy from Shagging’ Harry.
“So, what’s next? You said you had the whole day planned.”
“Just this.”
I furrow my brow. “Sex? That’s all you wanted to do here is shag?” I sigh, wondering what in the world possessed him to think that. We’ve had sex in our state room on the ship, the elevator—THREE times, no less, and in a stupid little bathroom stall after brunch yesterday. “All you want to do today is have sex on a private beach?” I sit up and look down at him. Bugger’s almost asleep, so I give him a good slap on the shoulder. “Harry! I want to see Cancun! You booked this bloody cruise for me, and now I want to enjoy the sites.” Well, the site of Harry lying naked in front of me on a white sand beach was a fabulous one, but that just wasn’t the point.
“Ginny, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any energy right now, okay? Leave me alone unless you want to do it again.” He rolls over and pulls the towel over him. Dammit!
Great, we’ve been married a whole four days, and we’re fighting about sex. I didn’t think that was supposed to happen for another five years or something. I pull my bikini back on and attempt to wipe the sand off my body. Whose stupid idea was it for us to leave our wands at home? Hermione. I remind myself to mess with her when I get home. I’d give anything for a Cleansing Charm right now.
I look down at Harry and notice he’s sleeping. Figures. Now what am I supposed to do? I pick up my bag off the beach, looking for my sunglasses and the sunscreen Hermione told me to buy, because again, without my wand, I can’t do a Protection Charm. I see something at the bottom of the bag that draws my attention and I dig around and pull it out. The Mickey Mouse ears. Perfect.
I look back over at Harry and notice he’s rolled onto his back. “You’re making this too easy, love.” I kneel down next to him in the sand and place the childish hat on his head and begin to pile the fine sand against his body. I grimace when the sand starts to fall back, but I am encouraged to find the sand a bit damp the further I dig. I continue piling sand on him and then move to the other side. If he moves, my work will be ruined.
Once on the other side, my hands make quick work of burying him. He’s covered now with a good amount of sand from the waist down. He’ll have a hell of a time getting all of that sand out of his orifices and the like, but oh well. Somehow, though, it’s not enough. I need to do more.
When we were at Disney World, Harry was really taken with the bird that was dressed up as a mermaid. What was her name? I pace back and forth, trying to remember the character.
“Ariel! The Little Mermaid!” I scream for joy and fall back onto the sand, piling sand onto my new husband’s chest with a mischievous smile on my face. Fred and George will be so proud of me. “Under the sea, under the sea. Darling, it’s better, down where it’s wetter, take it from me!” I sing. Good thing Harry’s asleep or he’d tell me I sound worse than Crookshanks in a battle.
The sand isn’t sticking the way I’d like it to, so in desperation, I retrieve my water bottle from the bag and mix it with the sand. It’s just the right consistency now. I am giddy with anticipation as I scoop the wet sand onto him where breasts would be, if he were female. I add a bit more water and he’s got a set that would rival Padma Patil’s. The finishing touches, the nipples, are done with little shells from my bag. Perfect mermaid complete with tail and scales.
I look at Harry the Mermaid and stifle a laugh. His after-sex naps are never long, so I don’t have much time left. I open my bag again and pull out the Muggle camera Dad got for us. I close my eyes, trying to remember how Hermione showed me how to use it, and once satisfied with my recollections, I look through the view finder and click the shutter. Eight times.
Satisfied that I have enough blackmail material for the early years of our marriage, I pull on my tank top, tie the sarong around my waist and wait for him to wake up.
----------------
It’s hot. How long have I been asleep? I open my eyes and see Ginny sitting on my right, reading a book. She looks hacked off at me, and I decide to try and make amends.
I try to sit, but feel like I’m in a full Body-Bind. I scowl at her. “What did you do? Didn’t you give your wand to Hermione?”
“You know I did.”
“So why can’t I get up?” Before the words are off my lips, I look down. Now she’s done it. I have sand breasts with perky little sea shell nipples. “Funny, Gin, real funny.” I pick the ‘nipples’ off me and brace myself while I bend at the waist. “A tail, too? Oh you are so dead, Weasley.”
“Potter! I’m Potter now. How could you forget?” I can’t quite tell if she’s mad or not. The sun’s in my eyes. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
With great effort, I pull myself up and stand. There’s sand all over me. Everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE. I look down at my bits and shake my head. “Well, that’s never going to come out!” I’ve got sand in the hair on my legs and on my chest. And in my butt. “Damn it, Gin! How’d it get up my arse? That itches something fierce, you know!” I reach back and begin to scratch. There’s really no dignified way of digging sand out of your arse, and I soon join in with Ginny’s laughter.
“Did I take the mickey out of you, Mickey?”
“Huh?” I groan. The ears. I reach up to my head and remove the Mickey Mouse ears she bought for me and throw them to the ground. The same ears she put on me this morning. She even had the balls to take pictures of my role-playing. “Oh no.” She better not have. However, the smile on her face tells me otherwise. “Where’s the camera, Gin? Please tell me you left it in the room.”
“Oh, don’t get all Auror on me, Harry. You deserved it.” She stands up and moves in front of me. “You knew how much this meant to me, and all you wanted to do was…”
She never finishes her accusation. I pull her to me and plant a big wet kiss on her luscious mouth. She tastes so damn good. She relaxes against me and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. For someone who didn’t like the idea of shagging on a beach all day, she sure is receptive. And so am I.
“Harry, no! We are NOT having sex on the beach again!” I start to laugh. “It’s not funny, Harry!”
“I’m not laughing at you, love. Sex on the Beach. That drink you like so much,” I remind her.
“Oh, you are just bad,” she says with a pout. “And…deflate that…thing.” She shakes her finger, pointing at my saluting cock.
“Thing? You’re calling The One-Eyed Wonder a ‘thing’? I’m gonna get you for that!” I march towards her and she breaks out in a run toward the ocean. The waves crash against her as I give chase, salt water washing the blasted sand off me. I catch her around the waist and release the skirt-thing she’s wearing and let it float along the ocean breeze. “Help me wash up, please.” I nuzzle her neck and run my hands over her now damp skin, dipping my fingers into her bikini bottoms.
“Fine,” she moans. “But not on the beach. In the waves.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, love.”