Fleur couldnt stand it. It was horrid, abominable, and just plain wrong. Harry had never been to the beach before. It was a travesty of the most epic proportions, and something had to be done. So it was decided. She and Harry would go to the beach. And not just any beach. The beaches of Rio de Janeiro. At the beaches, Fleur had gone to pick up some drinks from a nearby stall. In and around the stall, men and women alike turned and stared at the gorgeous french woman, dressed in a strappy, revealing onepiece as she waited in line for her drinks. A couple of young men, who had been outright ogling her for the past few minutes, finally plucked up the courage to approach the beauty, were suddenly frozen in their tracks by an ominous aura that seemed to emanate from the blonde. Everyone around her instinctively took two steps back, yet she didnt notice, her eyes locked on the sight that had inspired this feeling of dread. A distance away from the stall, two young women, dressed in two piece bikinis, were talking to her harry. Even now, she took a moment to admire her boyfriend. Having always been fit (out of necessity), Harry’s body was now a sight to behold, thanks in part due to her insistence that he work out, and a proper amount of food that helped his body truly develop. Lean and toned, Harry's body was to Fleur a work of art. Biceps that she loved to trap between her breasts, hard planes that she would worship at any point, abs she would gladly drizzle caramel over and feast on, those defined hipbones that led downward into the wonder that was hidden in his trunks, and so. Much. More. A small tattoo wrapped around his upper right bicep, the only blemish on his skin aside from his scars, a thick line of black, written in an archaic language that few knew of, and fewer could read, proclaimed “Property of Fleur Delacour.” Yes, Harry’s body was one she could ogle forever and worship endlessly. And it. Was. Hers.
No two bit thots would lay a single finger on her man. As she approached ogling all the while, she saw both of them lean into Harry’s personal space. He leaned back slightly, obviously uncomfortable, yet still unfailingly polite. As soon as she was close enough, she spoke, her voice louder than needed, but drawing the attention of those *sluts away from her man. “‘Arry. Zere you are!” She embraced him from behind, body molding to the back of his frame as she peeked over his shoulder at the two women, eyes narrowing dangerously, “and just who might you two be?”
The entire day continues in the same vein, with Harry and Fleur just trying to enjoy the beach, and Fleur gladly ogling Harry, while beating away the numerous girls who approached her boyfriend with a stick. The men on the beach don't even dare try to approach her, due to the aura of death she’s giving off. Harry either doesn't notice, or does not comment. He’s just happy to spend the day with his Fleur, especially when she’s wearing something so….. fitting. Could be part of a larger work featuring possessive!Fleur, or just remain a oneshot.