wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2008-02-14 13:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, ginny, harry |
Special delivery for da_angel729
Title: Fever Dreams
Author: vorember
Recipient's LJ name: da_angel729
Rating: M
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Word Count:1446
Warnings (if any): Sex
Authors notes: Enjoy!
Harry sighed and looked up at the ceiling, counting the tiles and the minutes and the seconds until he could be out of St. Mungos and back at work. He was a little grumpy that no one had been to visit him all day, but Ginny, understandably, had to work until at least 4 p.m., and the Weasleys were all tied up with the birth of some new baby or other. Bill and Fleur just seemed to keep popping them out at a rate that made Harry nervous and sweaty that Ginny would suddenly decide that she too wanted seven kids.
The number of tiles hadn't changed since yesterday, and just as Harry began to contemplate taking his wand out of the drawer and changing them into more interesting colors, the door to his room opened.
“Ginny!” Harry was pleasantly surprised. “It's only noon.”
She had a wicked smile on her lips. “I know. I'm on my lunch break. How are you feeling? I saw Healer Furdwock on the way in, and he said that you still have a bit of a temperature. They drained all the pus, but I guess there's still some in your bloodstream.”
Harry furrowed his brow and his lips. It was his own stupidity that got him into this mess.
“Anyway, I think it's kinda cute that you're stuck in bed. You try to do too much. Think of this as a sort of break.”
She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, her long red hair falling freely over her neatly pressed robes.
“Thanks to the Crumple-Horned Snorcack?” He asked bitterly.
“How were you supposed to know that they existed? I mean...Luna is my friend and all, but you have to admit that it's sort of hilarious that you, out of the five people on the expedition hunting the dark wizard Welton, you were the only one who got bit.”
“Yeah. Hilarious.” Harry admitted bitterly.
“Are you still paralyzed mostly?” Ginny poked his thigh with one finger.
“I can't move if that's what you're asking. But I can feel most everywhere.”
“Oh? You can't move?” Ginny smiled brightly, and all at once Harry felt that he had said something wrong.
“Are you mad?”
“Nope!” Ginny crawled up onto the bed. “I just think we should experiment and find out what exactly you can and can't feel.”
Harry glanced at the door, which had a rather sizable window smack in the middle of it.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, even though he knew exactly what she meant.
Ginny just shrugged, the bright smile threatening to put out his eyes.
“We'll start slow. Can you feel....this?” She put her hand under the sheet, lightly brushing the hairs on his thigh.
“Yes.” Harry wished desperately that he could move to invite her to try a more sensitive area.
Ginny moved her hand to the bottom of the hospital gown, slipped it under, and felt for the thicker, darker hairs that grew where his legs met, caressing gently.
“How about this?”
Harry smiled. “Yes,” he said.
“Well that's good. Because it would be a pity if I did what I'm going to do and you couldn't feel anything.”
“What are you going to do?”
But apparently, Ginny didn't feel inclined to explain. She stood up and stretched, then took out her wand and pointed it at the door.
“Colloportus.” It was locked against any intruder, Healer or otherwise.
Then she turned back to Harry, a new kind of smile on her face. The wild redhead lifted up the hem of her robes to show Harry what was underneath—nothing whatsoever but her bare skin. No under robe, no stockings, and most importantly, no underwear.
“With you being in the hospital for so many days, I really couldn't stand to use my magic stick any longer. And if we want to start having kids, then we need to keep up our routine, right?”
“Are you going to block the window?”
Ginny glanced back at the door. “No.”
“Ok.” Harry knew that there was no arguing with her. Besides, what would he do? He was completely immobile in the bed, and Ginny seemed very determined to do what she was going to do. Whatever that might be, though Harry had a few good suspicions.
Ginny climbed back on the bed, throwing one leg over Harry's middle and yanking the sheets down roughly as she went. The hospital gown did nothing to hide Harry's substantial arousal. Immobile as he was, apparently venom from the Crumple-Horned Snorcack did not prevent bodily functions such as reproduction.
Ginny raised a satisfied eyebrow at the sight of Harry's tent, then slowly lifted the gown to see what she could see. It was quite glorious, standing tall at attention, red and full and ready. Ginny gave a little humph of approval, then slid her hand down the length, pressing it flat to Harry's legs and keeping extra pressure on the already self lubricating tip. She lowered her own hips to settle right on top of him, her warmth forcing Harry to groan deeply, unable to thrust up into her, or touch her breasts, or do anything at all. And he loved every second of that deep rooted helplessness, from her sexy tease to the perfectly transparent window watching them from the door.
“You don't mind if I have a shag with you, do you?” Ginny asked sweetly, pressing the tip of his penis to her clitoris and closing her eyes. All Harry could manage was a strangled little groan of approval.
“Good,” She rocked her hips forward, taking the very tip inside herself, then lowered, agonizingly slowly, down onto the length of him, as far as she could go. Harry, helpless, was reduced to gasps of pleasure, and an aching need to thrust his hips as hard and fast as he could, to fill her up with his entire self.
But, of course, he couldn't do what he wanted. Ginny clenched her vaginal muscles around him and then slowly pulling up off of him. Then again, she slowly sank down onto him, her hands on either side of his neck, making every second the best it could be for herself.
Ginny groaned, and her thrusts moved faster, clenching around Harry's penis every time she pulled off, until she felt the telltale gush of feeling and fluid, her body raking in all the semen that it could, aching for reproduction, the passing on of genes. She whipped her hair back in a brilliant red arc as she came, pausing her movements, overtaken by exhausted gasps.
When she recovered her breath, She flopped over to lay on top of her husband.
“So. I think I like this paralysis thing.”
“Me too. Though maybe we can try a potion instead of a Crumple-Horned Snorcack next time.”
“Maybe.” Ginny said. She stroked his hair for a moment, until she heard a rap at the door, and curious eyes peering in.
“Just in time.” She slid off of him, gracefully pulling the covers off, hiding his spent condition with her body, back to the door.
A subtle wave of her wand unlocked and clicked open the door.
“Ah, Healer Furdwock,” Ginny greeted the healer with a handshake. “Perfect timing. Harry just woke up.”
“Ah...Hello Mrs. Potter.” The healer cleared his throat, then proceeded to examine Harry, his face lighting up with alarm. “Mr. Potter, you certainly are flushed in the face! I hope you aren't running a fever this late in the healing process!”
“No no!” Harry assured the healer before he could tear off the blankets and gown and begin measuring and analyzing anything that Harry didn't want analyzed. “I feel perfectly fine. Just a...dream. A very good dream.”
“Fever dreams can be very dangerous. Let me at least do some tests. Mrs. Potter, it's nice of you to have stopped by. Harry should be ready to go home in a few days, I hope you understand.”
“Oh, I understand. Just take good care of him. I actually have to go back to work.” She moved towards the door, her smile like a bun with too much cinnamon to be sweet.
“Bye Harry!” Sh waved and sent a little flying kiss.
“Bye,” Harry replied weakly.
Healer Furdwock merely watched the exchange, puzzled, then went back to doing his job.