[Fic] The One Where Harry's a Dolt and Ginny's Fucking Fierce (R) HP: Harry/Ginny
Title: The One Where Harry's a Dolt and Ginny's Fucking Fierce
Author: faynia
Pairing: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Warning: Liberal mention of the word 'cock' in unsexy contexts, great misuse of Quidditch uniforms, and a serious lack of actual porn
Word Count: 1699
Rating: R
Summary: In which, Harry's pining, Ron's a twat, Hermione is tired, and Ginny's too hot for words.
A/N: Written for pasty_pants here first because she claimed there was no such thing as Harry/Ginny engagement fic. 8D I still don't believe her.
Ron had Hermione pinned to the back of the sofa, one hand inching along the waistline of her jeans and inching up under her shirt only to be swatted away without much heat. Harry stood against the opposite wall and tried not to watch them go at it for the fifteenth bloody time since Ron had shown up that evening.
"Ron, if we really wanted to hear those kinds of noises, we would have rented porn." Ginny slid along the wall and took Harry's hand, pried it really, it was kind of tucked underneath his armpits in a pathetic attempt at hugging himself, when she managed it though, she squeezed it firmly and beamed up at him like she hadn't noticed anything funny about that at all.
Harry sort of re-fell in love with her and if the tiniest bit of softness around her eyes said much of anything, it was telling him she'd noticed it and that he really couldn't hide his emotions for shit.
Ron yelped and withdrew from Hermione like he'd been jabbed in the ass with a white-hot poker. "Merlin's tits, Gin, make noise when you enter a room, would you?"
"I don't know how you'd have heard me with the racket you were making."
"Still."
"It's nice to see you, Ginny," Hermione said, smoothing over Ron's blustering and face-pulling while straightening her top and bunching her hair behind her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed and rosy and her lower lip looked puffed and angry. Harry wasn't sure Hermione could even feel her lips anymore, what with the way Ron kept dragging her up against walls and sucking her face off. It was nice, in a way, Harry guessed, to know they were doing okay. Because they'd been hit or miss for a while, but when they were hit, not even burning buildings could separate them.
Well, burning buildings or Ginny. Ginny who was currently rolling her eyes and petting Harry's arm like he needed soothing, he DID, but that wasn't the point, the point was that Ginny was rolling her eyes, petting his arm and making to go hug Hermione. Which meant she'd pull away from Harry. While Harry wasn't anywhere near as demonstrative as Ron was, he'd seen Ginny even less than Ron had seen Hermione and he was reluctant to let her go. Just like that. She'd come back. Obviously she'd come back, but he found himself pouting down into her upturned face, earning himself a kiss on the nose for his efforts.
He supposed that would have to do for now.
Ginny crossed the room and flung her arms around Hermione's neck with a laugh until she caught sight of the rock set on her ring finger and then an ear splitting shriek echoed around the downstairs parlor of Grimmauld place and the both of them dissolved into a rapid flurry of girly noises that Harry managed to interpret as extreme excitement and details.
Ron gave Harry a helpless look and wobbled over to Harry's side, propping himself up against the wall.
They shared a long look, full of deep inner meaning that really boiled down to one word: 'Girls'.
Harry closed his eyes, hands folding back across his chest and under his armpits. "When'd that happen?"
"You remember when you went to the loo?"
"That fast?"
"What? It was an easy question, mate." Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. "'You'll marry me, yeah? Please?' Obviously, she said yes. Can't get enough of me and my--."
"Er, right. Thanks for that, Ron. I don't really need to hear about you and your..." Harry gestured crudely southward, rolling his head toward his best mate. "But I'm happy for you. Can't do much better than Hermione."
"What about me? You're not marrying Hermione, Harry. Only Ron gets to."
It was then that Harry noticed the room was silent but for the occasional pop, rustle, crack of the fire and his cheeks went flaming. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
"Ginny!" he cried, awkward and helpless and wondering if maybe just kissing her to shut her up would erase these last few seconds but then they were gone because Ginny was standing on his toes and cupping her hands around his neck, pulling his big head down to meet hers and their mouths met.
Harry's arms went right around her waist, tugging her as close as she could come, because she was finally right there where he wanted her to be, and Ron could go fuck himself with his own self-proclaimed magnificent cock. He wasn't going to stop.
Ginny seemed to feel the same way, if you took into consideration the way she smushed her breasts into his chest and tangled her fingers into his hair, gripping him tight. Her engagement ring cut into the back of his neck, catching at his skin and he groaned low and messy into her mouth.
Maybe Ron had this right. Him and his magnificant woman catching cock. He gripped at Ginny's back, fingers catching on the thin fabric of her Quidditch jersey, scraping over the plastic decal #7.
"Get a room, Harry. I think I've gone blind."
"Oh, Ron, honestly."
"What? You can't want to see this!"
Harry lashed out at Ron, kicking him in the shin and earning a most satisfying, 'Ow! Fucking Hell, Harry!'
Ginny gestured rudely over Harry's shoulder, hooking her ankle around his and arching her back, plastering her to him. Harry couldn't think beyond where her mouth ended and her jaw began. Quidditch season needed to end. It needed to end right now, because he was pretty certain this wasn't something he'd normally do if Ginny was around more often.
But she wasn't around more and it was becoming a bit of a problem to his continued mental health. He needed Ginny like he needed his job and a good wank on the nights when Ginny was in some fantastic hotel in Germany or South Africa or where the hell ever she was that night and all he wanted was for her to be lying beside him, pliant and warm and happy to be there.
Not that she often got to spend the night. Molly would cut off his balls for defiling her precious baby girl and then keeping her all to himself. He was rather fond of his balls, really very fond of them and wanted to keep them for a long, long time. He suspected Ginny felt the same way, which was why she hadn't been pushing him in every letter they passed between them, frequently inappropriate, often burned right after being read, because who knew who had been snooping through Harry's wastepaper basket at work. Seeing how neither of them fancied seeing their non-existent sex life flashed across the cover of the Daily Prophet burning was really the best solution.
Which led them to their current situation where they were both hard up and about to rub off on each other like two frantic teens, which they weren't anymore, thanks ever so, but Harry's heart was beating too fast and his brain wasn't in communication with his cock and his cock was talking nice to that space between Ginny's legs that was hot and made Harry's palms damp just thinking about it.
"Let's go and find something to eat." There was a pause, possibly, Harry couldn't be sure, but it was swiftly followed by a, 'Come on, Ron. We're going. So you can stop shuddering in terror like a child.' and the sound of the next door over opening and shutting.
"Harry." The moan burst from Ginny's lips, sweet and low and it hit him right in the chest, slow burning throughout him. "Breathing is important," she chided in a less than composed, but more composed than Harry could have done, tone. "They're gone."
"Good. Er, brilliant. Can we just--" Harry's whole hand shook as he made for the top button of her jeans. "God, Gin, it's been near a month. Can't we please just--"
One slim and roughened finger touched his lips to silence him. "You might think we were in a race or something. We're not. We've got time now."
"Your mum is going to kill me if she knows we've been doing this."
Ginny gazed up at him with large, incredulous brown eyes and she tossed her hair idly over one shoulder. "You're seriously bringing up Mum at a time like this." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his forehead. "Don't you think that's something best left until after we take care of this?"
She brushed her hand over the bulge in his trousers, squeezing once playfully before linking her hands behind his neck and bringing him forward.
He groaned into the hollow of her neck, kissing her fluttering pulse point. "I love you, Ginny. You're fucking amazing. You know? I missed you so much."
She chuckled and pulled him back from the wall, leading him like the lovesick fool he was toward the sofa which was really uncomfortably lumpy in the center but would suit their purpose just fine.
Better than fine actually. The idea had immediate appeal to Harry.
"I know."
When Ginny toppled backward onto it, he followed after her and settled between her thighs, panting and flushed dizzy with need so strong he felt sick with it.
"Don't go back?" he begged, slipping his hands under her shirt, aiming for the clasp of her bra and set to the task of getting the thing undone. "Please?"
Ginny kissed his cheek in a fond gesture that went at odds to the way her hips were rolling into his, mindless and consistent. Her eyes glittered gold in the firelight, hypnotizing Harry into a stillness he hadn't experienced since she'd arrived and when she drew him into a languishing kiss, he knew her answer, had probably known it since she'd shown up not really fully showered and smelling like broomstick polish and grass.
She was fucking gorgeous, amazing, and would stay for him, just like that, no questions asked, and he knew he'd never love anyone else, ever, like he did her.
Author: faynia
Pairing: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Warning: Liberal mention of the word 'cock' in unsexy contexts, great misuse of Quidditch uniforms, and a serious lack of actual porn
Word Count: 1699
Rating: R
Summary: In which, Harry's pining, Ron's a twat, Hermione is tired, and Ginny's too hot for words.
A/N: Written for pasty_pants here first because she claimed there was no such thing as Harry/Ginny engagement fic. 8D I still don't believe her.
Ron had Hermione pinned to the back of the sofa, one hand inching along the waistline of her jeans and inching up under her shirt only to be swatted away without much heat. Harry stood against the opposite wall and tried not to watch them go at it for the fifteenth bloody time since Ron had shown up that evening.
"Ron, if we really wanted to hear those kinds of noises, we would have rented porn." Ginny slid along the wall and took Harry's hand, pried it really, it was kind of tucked underneath his armpits in a pathetic attempt at hugging himself, when she managed it though, she squeezed it firmly and beamed up at him like she hadn't noticed anything funny about that at all.
Harry sort of re-fell in love with her and if the tiniest bit of softness around her eyes said much of anything, it was telling him she'd noticed it and that he really couldn't hide his emotions for shit.
Ron yelped and withdrew from Hermione like he'd been jabbed in the ass with a white-hot poker. "Merlin's tits, Gin, make noise when you enter a room, would you?"
"I don't know how you'd have heard me with the racket you were making."
"Still."
"It's nice to see you, Ginny," Hermione said, smoothing over Ron's blustering and face-pulling while straightening her top and bunching her hair behind her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed and rosy and her lower lip looked puffed and angry. Harry wasn't sure Hermione could even feel her lips anymore, what with the way Ron kept dragging her up against walls and sucking her face off. It was nice, in a way, Harry guessed, to know they were doing okay. Because they'd been hit or miss for a while, but when they were hit, not even burning buildings could separate them.
Well, burning buildings or Ginny. Ginny who was currently rolling her eyes and petting Harry's arm like he needed soothing, he DID, but that wasn't the point, the point was that Ginny was rolling her eyes, petting his arm and making to go hug Hermione. Which meant she'd pull away from Harry. While Harry wasn't anywhere near as demonstrative as Ron was, he'd seen Ginny even less than Ron had seen Hermione and he was reluctant to let her go. Just like that. She'd come back. Obviously she'd come back, but he found himself pouting down into her upturned face, earning himself a kiss on the nose for his efforts.
He supposed that would have to do for now.
Ginny crossed the room and flung her arms around Hermione's neck with a laugh until she caught sight of the rock set on her ring finger and then an ear splitting shriek echoed around the downstairs parlor of Grimmauld place and the both of them dissolved into a rapid flurry of girly noises that Harry managed to interpret as extreme excitement and details.
Ron gave Harry a helpless look and wobbled over to Harry's side, propping himself up against the wall.
They shared a long look, full of deep inner meaning that really boiled down to one word: 'Girls'.
Harry closed his eyes, hands folding back across his chest and under his armpits. "When'd that happen?"
"You remember when you went to the loo?"
"That fast?"
"What? It was an easy question, mate." Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. "'You'll marry me, yeah? Please?' Obviously, she said yes. Can't get enough of me and my--."
"Er, right. Thanks for that, Ron. I don't really need to hear about you and your..." Harry gestured crudely southward, rolling his head toward his best mate. "But I'm happy for you. Can't do much better than Hermione."
"What about me? You're not marrying Hermione, Harry. Only Ron gets to."
It was then that Harry noticed the room was silent but for the occasional pop, rustle, crack of the fire and his cheeks went flaming. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
"Ginny!" he cried, awkward and helpless and wondering if maybe just kissing her to shut her up would erase these last few seconds but then they were gone because Ginny was standing on his toes and cupping her hands around his neck, pulling his big head down to meet hers and their mouths met.
Harry's arms went right around her waist, tugging her as close as she could come, because she was finally right there where he wanted her to be, and Ron could go fuck himself with his own self-proclaimed magnificent cock. He wasn't going to stop.
Ginny seemed to feel the same way, if you took into consideration the way she smushed her breasts into his chest and tangled her fingers into his hair, gripping him tight. Her engagement ring cut into the back of his neck, catching at his skin and he groaned low and messy into her mouth.
Maybe Ron had this right. Him and his magnificant woman catching cock. He gripped at Ginny's back, fingers catching on the thin fabric of her Quidditch jersey, scraping over the plastic decal #7.
"Get a room, Harry. I think I've gone blind."
"Oh, Ron, honestly."
"What? You can't want to see this!"
Harry lashed out at Ron, kicking him in the shin and earning a most satisfying, 'Ow! Fucking Hell, Harry!'
Ginny gestured rudely over Harry's shoulder, hooking her ankle around his and arching her back, plastering her to him. Harry couldn't think beyond where her mouth ended and her jaw began. Quidditch season needed to end. It needed to end right now, because he was pretty certain this wasn't something he'd normally do if Ginny was around more often.
But she wasn't around more and it was becoming a bit of a problem to his continued mental health. He needed Ginny like he needed his job and a good wank on the nights when Ginny was in some fantastic hotel in Germany or South Africa or where the hell ever she was that night and all he wanted was for her to be lying beside him, pliant and warm and happy to be there.
Not that she often got to spend the night. Molly would cut off his balls for defiling her precious baby girl and then keeping her all to himself. He was rather fond of his balls, really very fond of them and wanted to keep them for a long, long time. He suspected Ginny felt the same way, which was why she hadn't been pushing him in every letter they passed between them, frequently inappropriate, often burned right after being read, because who knew who had been snooping through Harry's wastepaper basket at work. Seeing how neither of them fancied seeing their non-existent sex life flashed across the cover of the Daily Prophet burning was really the best solution.
Which led them to their current situation where they were both hard up and about to rub off on each other like two frantic teens, which they weren't anymore, thanks ever so, but Harry's heart was beating too fast and his brain wasn't in communication with his cock and his cock was talking nice to that space between Ginny's legs that was hot and made Harry's palms damp just thinking about it.
"Let's go and find something to eat." There was a pause, possibly, Harry couldn't be sure, but it was swiftly followed by a, 'Come on, Ron. We're going. So you can stop shuddering in terror like a child.' and the sound of the next door over opening and shutting.
"Harry." The moan burst from Ginny's lips, sweet and low and it hit him right in the chest, slow burning throughout him. "Breathing is important," she chided in a less than composed, but more composed than Harry could have done, tone. "They're gone."
"Good. Er, brilliant. Can we just--" Harry's whole hand shook as he made for the top button of her jeans. "God, Gin, it's been near a month. Can't we please just--"
One slim and roughened finger touched his lips to silence him. "You might think we were in a race or something. We're not. We've got time now."
"Your mum is going to kill me if she knows we've been doing this."
Ginny gazed up at him with large, incredulous brown eyes and she tossed her hair idly over one shoulder. "You're seriously bringing up Mum at a time like this." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his forehead. "Don't you think that's something best left until after we take care of this?"
She brushed her hand over the bulge in his trousers, squeezing once playfully before linking her hands behind his neck and bringing him forward.
He groaned into the hollow of her neck, kissing her fluttering pulse point. "I love you, Ginny. You're fucking amazing. You know? I missed you so much."
She chuckled and pulled him back from the wall, leading him like the lovesick fool he was toward the sofa which was really uncomfortably lumpy in the center but would suit their purpose just fine.
Better than fine actually. The idea had immediate appeal to Harry.
"I know."
When Ginny toppled backward onto it, he followed after her and settled between her thighs, panting and flushed dizzy with need so strong he felt sick with it.
"Don't go back?" he begged, slipping his hands under her shirt, aiming for the clasp of her bra and set to the task of getting the thing undone. "Please?"
Ginny kissed his cheek in a fond gesture that went at odds to the way her hips were rolling into his, mindless and consistent. Her eyes glittered gold in the firelight, hypnotizing Harry into a stillness he hadn't experienced since she'd arrived and when she drew him into a languishing kiss, he knew her answer, had probably known it since she'd shown up not really fully showered and smelling like broomstick polish and grass.
She was fucking gorgeous, amazing, and would stay for him, just like that, no questions asked, and he knew he'd never love anyone else, ever, like he did her.