Written for the Truth Or Dare flash competition on Dumbledores Armada discord hosted by DarkAngelofSorrowReturns.


My Claim: Truth (action) cooking breakfast

Remus stirred in his sleep, the mouthwatering smell of bacon filling his nose as the soft sizzle in the iron skillet on the hob reached his ears from beyond the door. His eyes opened, blinking heavily several times before he pushed himself up, the blankets pooling around his hips, the left side of the bed cold. A small smile played on his lips as he inhaled again, this time the soft smell of vanilla and coconut from her pillow, cutting through the smoky smell of the pork.

It wasn't often that Hermione cooked breakfast. Typically, she preferred to sleep in on the weekends, groaning as she pulled herself from their bed around ten in the morning. Remus was the early riser, of course. He never did sleep well, laying flat often caused his hips to ache or his back to feel stiff. Admittedly, in recent years, he found it much easier to sleep with Hermione's head on his chest and their legs tangled together.

He could hear the sharp crack of the eggs against the counter as she broke them into a bowl, could hear the soft swishing of the yolk and the whites as they combined. The bacon continued to sizzle away, small popping sounds from the grease escaping the confines of the pan and a softly muttered "oh, shoot" as Hermione's footsteps moved away from the counter and back toward the hob.

Perhaps it would be a bit off putting, to anyone else's standards, but Remus loved to listen to Hermione. Not only to her talk- he could listen to her talk on transfiguration theories for hours, honestly. But the way she mumbled in frustration to herself when she mucked something up or the soft (and horribly off key) humming she did as she did menial tasks. He liked the way her footfalls always seemed to be in a rhythm and how she tapped the countertop with her fingertips as she tried to decide what to do next.

Finally, he decided he had better pull himself from the bed and go check on his witch, nervous that she may start a grease fire again. He pulled back the blankets, groaning a bit as his back popped and his shoulders twinged as he pushed up from the mattress and stretched his arms above his head, giving his head a scratch.

Remus padded out into the kitchen, a modest room with not an abundance of counter space and all the appliances were second hand when they got them, but they were theirs and Hermione had absolutely lit up at the prospect of putting things into their home. Remus watched her as she danced about the small kitchen wearing an old Pink Floyd t-shirt of his that had certainly seen better days and a pair of sleep shorts that were loose in the legs and incredibly short. He smiled to himself at the sight of her fluffy socks and the way her hair was mussed about her head, her wand stuck through the bun in a futile attempt to keep it all in place.

"Set the table if you're going to just stand there, then!" Hermione said, flashing a coy smile over her shoulder as she flipped the bacon in the pan.

Remus rolled his eyes and moved to the cabinet, pulling down two plates, a couple of mugs, and getting the silverware from the drawer, "You're up early and in a good mood?" He mused, moving toward the table and placing the dishes at their preferred seat. "Should I ask a question to make sure you aren't polyjuiced?"

Hermione huffed and he could practically see her eyes roll, even if she wasn't facing him. "It's September first and I just fancied making breakfast for my Professor husband on his first day teaching!"

"It's not my first day teaching, as you very well know."

Hermione laughed, a sound that Remus would swear was more gorgeous than the sound of robins alerting spring had come, and turned to face him, waving her spatula about. "Yes but that was nearly fifteen years ago!"

He laughed as she turned her back to him, pulling the bacon out of the pan and cutting the heat. Remus stepped behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss into her neck, just below her ear, "Thank you."

Hermione hummed in approval and leaned back, pressing her back into his chest and letting him envelop her in his arms. He continued pressing kisses into her neck, wondering if he would ever tire of the feel of her skin against his lips, the scent of her in his nose, or the taste of her on his tongue. He certainly hoped not.

"Remus," she attempted to chastise as he nipped at the juncture of her throat and shoulder. "You need to eat breakfast before you have to go in!"

"Mm, but the train won't be in until late and there's other things I'm much more interested in attending to right now." He shifted his hips against her backside to show her exactly what needed the attention.

Hermione twisted a bit against him, her neck craning so that her lips could meet his. He would never understand how she always tasted sweet and fiery, like cinnamon and honey. He could still taste the coffee she must have drank this morning lingering on her tongue as he delved into her mouth, seeking more of her. Remus was hungry, but it had nothing to do with the food on the counter or the growl in his belly and everything to do with the insatiable appetite he harbored for his wife.

His hands slinked up her stomach, shoved under the worn material of the shirt she had stolen from him to sleep in. Her skin was warm and soft and he could feel the gooseflesh pimple across it as his fingers brushed a trail to the waistband of her shorts. He broke their kiss and moved his way across her jaw, back down the column of her throat, to continue his assault on the spot near her pulsepoint that he knew drove her wild.

Remus would have never imagined in a million years he'd be so lucky to be pressed against a beautiful woman in the house that they owned before he went off to work at a job he knew he was going to love. It was because of Hermione that all of it was possible, her persistence, her perseverance… And he would spend his entire life lavishing her with kisses to show her how thankful he was.

He shifted his foot between hers, shoving her own apart and smirked against her neck as she gasped when his hand finally dove beneath the fabric of her pyjama shorts and stroked against her mons, teasing the neatly trimmed curls before sinking further down to find her already coated in arousal. He groaned in her ear, nipping at her throat before brushing his fingers against her clit.

Hermione's hips jerked backward and she let out a soft moaning sigh as he continued to tease her, pressing slow circles against her clit while he sucked at the delicate skin on her throat. He worked his way up, capturing her lips again as he slipped one finger inside of her, and then another, and swallowed her moans of approval. She was slick and warm, encasing his fingers in damp velvet, her back arching against him as she whimpered into his mouth.

"Please, Remus!" She cried.

The sound of his name in the drawn out pleading whine of her voice made his eyes roll in his head. "I can never deny you," he whispered into her skin.

He removed his hand from her center and wasted no time yanking down the shorts she wore, along with his own pyjama bottoms and guiding himself to her entrance. She leaned forward, grabbing the counter, and when he sheathed himself inside of her she threw her head back and cried out. Her wand fell from her hair, clattering onto the floor and Remus gripped her hips, holding her tightly in place as he began thrusting into her.

Like ships in the ocean, their bodies moved, hips rocking and flesh slapping; a melody of consonance sounds sung from their throats. Low growling groans and sopranic mewls that vastly overshadowed the whistling kettle and the sizzle of the eggs as they burned in the pan. Forgotten was the stiffness of his back and the pinch between his shoulders. The only ache he felt, he chased after, the tightening in his groin that begged for release.

Finally, as his pace became furious and the warm center in which he was gloved began to tighten and flutter around him, she yelled his name, crying out to Gods he knew she didn't believe in and he lost himself in the sound of his name on her lips. Remus slumped forward, pulling Hermione's back against his chest as he twitched and spilled himself inside of her, whispering praises and swears into her ear and tasting the salt of the sweat against the sweet skin of her neck.

After several moments, they stood, panting and trying to collect themselves. Giddy with their releases, Remus smiled and peppered Hermione's face in kisses. He pulled away, instantly craving to be joined with her again- I will never tire of this. He pulled his cotton pyjama bottoms back up over his hips as Hermione did the same, covering her rear with flowy, shorts.

Hermione laughed, shoving her hair from her face and wrinkling up her nose as she turned the heat off and pulled the pan of eggs from the burner. "That was the last of the carton," she said.

Remus gave a shrug and reached past her, pulling a piece of bacon from the small platter she had moved it to. He bit into it and smiled in return, "I'd rather have you for breakfast any day of the week."



A/n: thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little smutty slice of life! Thank you for anyone who voted for me and even more to DarkAngel for handpicking it!