Title: And Werewolf Makes Three
Music: Indifference – Pearl Jam
Relationship: Hermione/Remus
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: Mature
Warning(s): Sexual Content, Strong Language
Word Count: 797
Summary: The man, the monster, and the woman who loves them.

And Werewolf Makes Three

There should be bad memories here. Dark and haunting, cutting him down to the depths of his soul and tearing out the heart that so readily begged to no longer beat. Instead, he makes new memories; he paints these grounds with the beauty of something far more memorable. Full moons are forgotten as he lays her out on the spread black robe, hasty hands make quick work of her clothes, laughing lightly as they catch on twigs and thorny branches that reach out with gnarled fingers.

She smiles up at him, her angelic face bathed in what had in the past sent him to dark places. The moon shines on her now like a beacon, calling him to her sweet tender-heart. She lay beneath him with her legs spread on either side of him, her hips tilted tauntingly and her bra still covering lush breasts. A rosy hue colors her chest; from wanting or the cold, he doesn't know. He can smell her heady warmth as she willingly arches up toward him, hips thrusting at her invisible lover. Her hair is spread across his discarded robe in lush curls of tangled chocolate. As he leans over her, light no longer graces the plains of her beautiful body, she's shadowed now while he suckles her rosy peak through the white cotton of her brassiere.

She whimpers; such a soft, delicate sound compared to the rustling in the trees, the creatures hunting in the woods surrounding them. And yet, neither of them fear what lies out there. For inside he is the wildest of all beasts, the one to cause tremors of fear through those who dare come across his path. She tremors not in worry but with desire. Her thighs tremble as they wrap around his waist, her fingers shake as they dig into his bare shoulders, urging him on. Her insides quiver as he buries inside her, thrusting, imprinting himself on every fluttering inch of her heat. Her entire body jolts with each penetration, her breasts arching to his mouth as his teeth tear through fabric to surround the puckered pink nipples aching for his tongue.

Her blunt nails score down his front; these scars, these red wounds, are worth showing off, worth admiring in the mirror the next day. Her hands fan across his waist, grip his hips, drag him against her harshly, wanting more, deeper, all he can give. She never pleads in mercy, never looks at him in fear or disgust. She wants the man, the beast, the both of them, at all times. She grips Moony's hair, squeezes the back of his neck, forcing him to bite and nibble at her in pleasured haste. She strokes Remus' back, trails her fingers down his spine like she knows he enjoys; watches as he loses more control, grunting and crying her name as he fucks her into the ground while tenderly kissing her throat like a lover relishing the smallest of touches.

His large calloused palms fit beneath her arse perfectly, lifting her up into the air and holding her in place as he kneels on the unforgiving ground, his length pressed against her clit just right as he quickens and slows to keep her from that much desired edge. She falls into him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, hands burying in his hair as she whimpers against his ear. His eyes are unfocused, seeing only the moonlight on the forest floor as he seems to thicken inside of her, his body tensing beyond comfort, his hands bruising as they squeeze the soft flesh of her bum. She cries out, unmoving as he hurries; three more thrusts and they're both done. She's flying, breathless, murmuring his name like a sweet heavenly prayer. She goes limp, incapable of anything more than hitching breaths and soft murmurs of love.

He wraps her in his robe, hikes her up into his tired arms and carries her along to their cabin. It's a short walk but his body is exhausted, his knees shake with each step and his body rails at him for not taking a moment to rest. But he moves forward, wanting to hold her in their bed, wrap around her warmth in the safety and comfort of their home. She's good to let him do this, to mark the woods he spends so many full moons raging in. Her scent will linger, it'll calm him through the nights where he wants nothing more than to tear flesh from bone. And when he wakes in the morning, he won't feel that distraught ache as he once did. Instead, he'll look for her, knowing she'll soothe the terror with the knowledge that she will always be there, to love and cherish both the man and the monster.