100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,648
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,648
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Breakfast
Title: Breakfast
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: None
Summary: #56 – Breakfast. Breakfast by Harry Potter was a culinary reward.
Word Count: 646 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Companion piece to #45 – Guilt.
Prompt 56 – Breakfast
Cho awoke to the smell of frying bacon. She sat up in bed, looking around, wondering where she was, and realizing that she was in her own flat. The smell of bacon…was the flat on fire?
Wrapping a sheet around her, she padded toward the kitchen, peeking around the corner to see a shirtless man with untidy black hair humming to himself while breaking eggs to place next to the large pan of bacon. Cho was slow to recall why there was a man in her flat, and then she looked about her small living room.
Articles of clothing were thrown about, on the floor, on the sofa, even a pair of underwear hanging over the table lamp. It was then she remembered.
Harry Potter was standing in a pair of boxer shorts; making breakfast, toast popping up at that very instant, startling her.
They had been to lunch, had reconnected after several years, and Cho remembered, with a blush, pulling him into her flat. It was an assault, almost, the way she tumbled with him into the floor, kissing his mouth. Everything escalated from that point.
As she watched Harry’s back as he moved to pull the bread from the toaster, placing them on two chipped plates, she smirked. It was not exactly how she wanted things to go. She had fully expected him to leave as soon as she was asleep.
Then again, Cho did not know Harry Potter as well as she thought. Beneath the polite exterior was something more, something darker, something passionate. She knew she had bruises on her hips and thighs where his hands grasped her. She could feel that her lips were still swollen from kisses.
Harry continued to hum as he flipped the bacon and eggs. Cho could only admire how his muscles rippled at the motion. Slipping back into the bedroom, she sat on the edge of her low bed, blinking in the morning sunlight coming in from the windows on her side of the bed. The white sheets and blanket were rumpled; there was another lingering piece of clothing near the door.
Cho brushed her fingers through her mussed hair and then touched her lips.
She was not sure what to make of Harry Potter or his motivations. He was still a celebrated figure in the Wizarding community, and she was still nobody.
However, the way he responded to her advances, it still surprised her. He had acquainted himself with every inch of her body, overwhelming her senses, bringing her to a mind-blowing climax several times over.
He made her feel beautiful.
“Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, sound appealing?”
He was standing in the door, hands grasping the jambs, gazing at her. He was not wearing his glasses. The sound of his voice startled her, and the sheet slipped from her hands.
Cho blushed as Harry’s emerald eyes moved over her skin, to her small breasts, to her tight belly and along the curve of her back.
“Then, again, if you’re not hungry…”
She snorted a laugh and pressed her hand to her mouth, embarrassed. He chuckled, a nice deep chuckle that made her toes curl into the rug under her feet.
The guilt she had felt was gone, as if Vanished, and she let her hand drop to her lap.
“There are such things as Stasis Charms,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at Harry, but a smile curling her lips.
He moved, gliding across the room, and suddenly she was in his arms, his hands peeling away the sheet wrapped about her waist.
“Astute suggestion,” he muttered, his eyes glittering in the morning light as he settled her over him, knees in the mattress, his erection pressing against her through his boxer shorts.
Breakfast, made by Harry Potter, was a perhaps a culinary reward, but quickly forgotten as he grasped her face and kissed her soundly.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: None
Summary: #56 – Breakfast. Breakfast by Harry Potter was a culinary reward.
Word Count: 646 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Companion piece to #45 – Guilt.
Prompt 56 – Breakfast
Cho awoke to the smell of frying bacon. She sat up in bed, looking around, wondering where she was, and realizing that she was in her own flat. The smell of bacon…was the flat on fire?
Wrapping a sheet around her, she padded toward the kitchen, peeking around the corner to see a shirtless man with untidy black hair humming to himself while breaking eggs to place next to the large pan of bacon. Cho was slow to recall why there was a man in her flat, and then she looked about her small living room.
Articles of clothing were thrown about, on the floor, on the sofa, even a pair of underwear hanging over the table lamp. It was then she remembered.
Harry Potter was standing in a pair of boxer shorts; making breakfast, toast popping up at that very instant, startling her.
They had been to lunch, had reconnected after several years, and Cho remembered, with a blush, pulling him into her flat. It was an assault, almost, the way she tumbled with him into the floor, kissing his mouth. Everything escalated from that point.
As she watched Harry’s back as he moved to pull the bread from the toaster, placing them on two chipped plates, she smirked. It was not exactly how she wanted things to go. She had fully expected him to leave as soon as she was asleep.
Then again, Cho did not know Harry Potter as well as she thought. Beneath the polite exterior was something more, something darker, something passionate. She knew she had bruises on her hips and thighs where his hands grasped her. She could feel that her lips were still swollen from kisses.
Harry continued to hum as he flipped the bacon and eggs. Cho could only admire how his muscles rippled at the motion. Slipping back into the bedroom, she sat on the edge of her low bed, blinking in the morning sunlight coming in from the windows on her side of the bed. The white sheets and blanket were rumpled; there was another lingering piece of clothing near the door.
Cho brushed her fingers through her mussed hair and then touched her lips.
She was not sure what to make of Harry Potter or his motivations. He was still a celebrated figure in the Wizarding community, and she was still nobody.
However, the way he responded to her advances, it still surprised her. He had acquainted himself with every inch of her body, overwhelming her senses, bringing her to a mind-blowing climax several times over.
He made her feel beautiful.
“Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, sound appealing?”
He was standing in the door, hands grasping the jambs, gazing at her. He was not wearing his glasses. The sound of his voice startled her, and the sheet slipped from her hands.
Cho blushed as Harry’s emerald eyes moved over her skin, to her small breasts, to her tight belly and along the curve of her back.
“Then, again, if you’re not hungry…”
She snorted a laugh and pressed her hand to her mouth, embarrassed. He chuckled, a nice deep chuckle that made her toes curl into the rug under her feet.
The guilt she had felt was gone, as if Vanished, and she let her hand drop to her lap.
“There are such things as Stasis Charms,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at Harry, but a smile curling her lips.
He moved, gliding across the room, and suddenly she was in his arms, his hands peeling away the sheet wrapped about her waist.
“Astute suggestion,” he muttered, his eyes glittering in the morning light as he settled her over him, knees in the mattress, his erection pressing against her through his boxer shorts.
Breakfast, made by Harry Potter, was a perhaps a culinary reward, but quickly forgotten as he grasped her face and kissed her soundly.