summary: zombie apocalypse au. after hitting his head, sirius thinks you've been bitten by a walker.
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ content: graphic descriptions of blood, gore and violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, injury, bomb/explosion, nobody dies
author's note: not proofread, sorry!! i'm lazy
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ navigation
Sirius blinked.
His head throbbed, and for a dizzying moment, he saw eight pairs of hands in front of him rather than two. His tattoos seemed to shift around and slither up and down his skin, even sliding off onto the debris-littered pavement.
A ringing screamed in his ears, borderline popping his eardrums, and he clenched his eyes shut, willing the limited contents of his stomach to stay down as acid rose to his throat. He was sure his palms and his knees were bleeding, and he was only just refilling his lungs with smoky air.
Somebody was yelling.
His eyes darted open, watering as he coughed. He turned over, wincing at the way his face burned just from the frown that migrated to it, littered with small scrapes. The crown of his head felt hot, his fingers shakily reaching up to touch it.
Sirius blanched at the twenty fingers that hovered from his right palm. He blinked hard. Five fingers. Two of them were slick with crimson blood. He touched his head again and hissed at the sharp sting. He looked back at his hand. More blood.
He must have smacked his head when the blast had gone off.
Someone yelled again. The ringing in his ears was fading as he clambered to his feet, disorientated and woozy. His knees almost buckled.
The building to his left was on fire, flames licking at the windows and walls, engulfing the scattered bodies of walkers who had been too close when the bomb had gone off.
He could hardly remember what the original plan had been—he just remembered hesitating, their last homemade explosive in his hand, and he had seen you and James nearly swallowed by the jaws of a dozen walkers—
He realised what the shouting was.
“Y/N?” Sirius screamed, his hand darting to the knife around his waist as he circled in his spot, trying to look for you. “James? Guys?”
“Sirius!”
His heart thumped harder than usual and he was nearly sick when he heard James’ voice come from a few feet away. Sirius hurried over, gasping at the sight of James beneath rubble, but he did not hesitate for more than a second before he was reaching down to hoist the metal sheet that had fallen onto him.
Sirius grunted with effort. James used the last of his upper body strength to help him shove it off of his legs. His face was completely scraped on the left side, bleeding, his lip cut and already slightly swollen. James coughed, welcoming the thick air.
“My glasses,” James panicked. “I’ve no idea where my glasses have gone.”
Sirius thought he saw the circular frames propped neatly on a few broken bricks, but his hand went through nothing when he attempted to grasp them. He swallowed, and chewed his lip desperately, and then he saw them—crushed.
“They’re fucked, Jamie,” Sirius breathed out and watched James’ face crumble. “I know, I know. We can—we just need to find Y/N, and we can get back to the house. Rem will know what to do. He’ll—he’ll know what to do.”
“Where’s Y/N?” James panicked.
“I don’t know,” Sirius exclaimed, and ran a hand through his messy hair, which was a big mistake because it only made his head throb worse, and his hand came back even bloodier.
“That explosion’s gonna attract more walkers,” James warned. “We need to find her quickly.”
“Shit,” Sirius cursed.
As if on cue, there was a shriek from inside one of the buildings—one that undoubtedly belonged to a human rather than a monster, and one that Sirius and James had grown to, unfortunately, recognise as yours.
“Come on,” Sirius urged, and grasped James’ wrist.
He yanked him towards what used to be a hotel. He thanked his sort-of lucky stars that James was athletic, so his coordination was still fine despite his lack of sight, and the curly-haired boy did not complain once, just as eager to get to their girlfriend who could be in trouble.
The revolving door of the hotel had the body of a walker wedged half through it. The black blood trickling from its forehead was fresh as Sirius hurried over it. James almost tripped, but released Sirius’ hand as soon as he saw the blurry shapes in front of him.
“James, get back,” Sirius urged, his voice wobbling.
He hoped he wasn’t imagining the six walkers that you were trying to fight off. The floor was littered with five or so bodies, so it was a miracle you were still in one piece, surviving a small herd all by yourself.
You’d found refuge behind the reception desk, which the walkers were too stupid to climb over, their hands reaching out as they groaned and cried for you. You reached forward and plunged your blade through the skull of one, the soft crunch like a survival song as it dropped like bricks to the floor.
“Sirius,” you called out anxiously. “Behind you.”
Sirius whirled around. He hadn’t even heard the walker snarling behind him, just the faint ringing in his ears from the explosion. He was quick to drive his knife into its temple. It staggered backwards and dropped lifelessly. The noise attracted the attention of a couple of walkers who broke away from the group around you to come to him instead.
Sirius adjusted the grip on his hand. “Yeah, come on,’ he beckoned them, and he hoped that you and James couldn’t hear the anxiety in his tone. “Right here.”
His arm collided with one of their chests, pushing it back so he could stab it through the eyes. Another tried to come for his shoulder at the same time, but Sirius was quickly spinning so the knife made an immediate home in a new head.
By the time both were down, you had dealt with the few still around you. They lay slumped over and in front of the hotel desk. He breathed out in relief as you wasted not a second to climb over the desk, nearly slipping in blood, stumbling over to him.
“James,” you gasped, and reached your other arm out, grabbing him by the trim of the plaid shirt he wore open. “Your glasses.”
“I’ll be fine,” James swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Sirius warned.
The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and he could feel himself growing woozy again. He felt panic grip him like icy fingers, plunging into his chest and ripping apart his ribcage like a chicken carcass. He swallowed back the sick and placed a hand to the top of his chest where his shirt didn’t cover his skin, wincing at the cool sweat.
Sirius couldn’t help but worry about you and James. If he fainted now, he’d be utterly useless. He still had to work out how you were both going to get James home in one piece—you didn’t need the responsibility of both of your boyfriends being in bad shape. You wouldn’t make it home alive.
Remus would never know what had happened to the three of you, and it would all be Sirius’ fault.
He noticed then that you were wincing at your arm as you pulled it away from James. He could feel the panic rising.
“Baby,” Sirius murmured when he saw the look on your face—all twisted, like you’d bitten into a lemon. “What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Not my arm,” you mumbled. “Just my shoulder. I think I whacked into something during the explosion. I haven’t been able to look—it’s on the back. I had to just–I ran to get those walkers away from you two, I thought you’d both been knocked out—I had to lure them away.”
James pressed a hard kiss to your hairline. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—that must’ve been so scary.”
“There was no other way,” you said, and both boys felt their hearts pang, because before all of this, you had been much more of a sensitive soul. The sight of blood used to make you feel sick, and now you drew it as if you were paid to.
James suddenly froze. Sirius noticed, and his heart fell into his stomach, because the look of terror that flashed across his vision was almost uncanny. He had never seen James look that way before. All the colour drained from his face, and his lips trembled for a split second.
“James?” Sirius whispered.
“Baby, your shoulder—” James began, and his face crumpled. “Can I look?”
Your face melted quickly, the corners of your mouth dragging downwards as if somebody had strings attached. “What? We can look when we get back,” you said, and Sirius knew you were smart enough to read James’ expression, too.
His heart was pounding so hard he thought he might be sick. He grasped you, whirling you so your back was to him before you could protest. His breath hitched—the white shirt that you wore was slightly ripped by your shoulder blade, stained with fresh blood.
You went rigid. James watched Sirius, though he couldn’t see his face in much detail. The three of you were deathly still for a few moments, a thick silence engulfing the room. Sirius’ fingers touched the edge of your tank top and pushed it to the side, just past your bra strap.
The air left his lungs. Sirius choked and dropped your shirt immediately, backing away with his bloody fingers to his face. He dropped his head into his hands and listened to the unbearable noise of absolute agony that shredded past James’ throat.
“No!” James pleaded, and then he heard you start to cry, too. “No, Sirius. It’s not—don’t tell me—”
Sirius crouched on the floor, breathing hard, rubbing the heels of his violently-shaking hands into his eyes. He gritted his teeth, suddenly so, so angry at the world for doing this to you. He was furious with himself for setting off that bomb, he was angrier that he suggested you come with him that morning.
It was so avoidable. It had all been so avoidable.
“Am I bit?” You panicked, and let James lift your shirt.
He buried his forehead against the top of your head, and you only felt worse at the tears that fell onto your skin. Your heart was in your throat. Your shaky fingers tried to reach around to touch it, but you couldn’t reach.
“I didn’t even—I didn’t feel it,” you babbled, wiping your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise," James whispered, and kissed your forehead. “Don’t—Don’t ever apologise, baby.”
He froze when he felt you pass him the handle of your most-used blade. He stared at your blurred features in horror.
“I don’t want to feel the change,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to feel any less human than I feel now, and I don’t want Remus to see. I don’t want the three of you to watch me go like that.”
Sirius was suddenly off the floor. He yanked the blade from James’ grip, nearly cutting himself.
“Don’t,” he spat. “We are not putting you out of your misery. We’re taking you back to Remus.”
“I can’t!” You begged him. “I don’t want to say goodbye.” You cried harder. “I’m so stupid!”
“No,” Sirius’ voice broke, and he grabbed you into a hug so bone-crushing that you both felt the twinges of every bruise throughout your body. “You did everything right.”
James swallowed the lump in his throat. “You could have hours left. I—I met someone at the start, they said one of their people lasted three days before the change.”
Sirius closed his eyes. He wanted to tell James his words weren’t as useful as he thought they were, but he supposed it was also his own way of comforting himself. He gripped your arm, your eyes burning into one another, and he kissed your lips tenderly.
“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Sirius suggested scratchily, and interlaced your fingers together, James on his other side.
.✦ ݁˖
Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as the camp bled over the horizon. Dread wedged itself in every corner of your being, your hands trembling on James’ from where you and Sirius had moved so he was in the middle, guiding him through the river you had to cross.
Your shoulder ached, but you kept your mouth shut. There was no point in complaining, especially when it would only make the others feel worse. Besides, Sirius had a nasty cut on his head that you were concerned about, and you stressed about James’ glasses, and where everybody else might find him new ones once you were gone. All of the optician shops were in town centres, which were predominantly overrun by walkers.
Sirius led the three of you around the back of the camp, and through the wired fence. You bolted it back up behind you, a finality that felt like an ice bucket settling over you. It would be the last time you came back to camp, and the last time you locked up behind you.
You could hear Pandora and her guitar. Barty’s voice was raised louder than the others, and there were even some cheers coming from the courtyard area of the nursery you’d managed to empty and fix up into a safe camp. You yearned to go and join them.
James knew exactly what you were thinking, and he crushed you into his chest. You were always the first to go bounding over after a run, excited to come back to the found family you’d all created.
“Come on,” Sirius said solemnly.
You pushed open the door to one of the many rooms that had been renovated into a bedroom. Sure enough, Remus lay where he had been that morning, a book in one hand, his other massaging his knee absentmindedly. He lurched up when he heard the door open, his eyes softening before widening at the state of the three of you.
“What the fuck happened?” Remus urged.
He went to Sirius first, who looked the worst off, tutting as he brushed a thumb over the dried blood that had dripped from his head, down his temple. He noted that you all had rimmed red eyes, and that you looked like ghosts of yourselves—a thick tension in the room that Remus would be oblivious to ignore.
“What happened?” He demanded, one hand still on Sirius as he looked at you and James. “Jamie, love, what happened to your glasses?”
“They broke,” James muttered sadly.
Remus made a sympathetic sound, but then he seemed to notice the way you wouldn’t look at him, your eyes averted to the floor as if you were guilty of something. His thumb and forefinger found your chin and he tilted you upward, his hazel eyes burning into yours, so warm they felt like pools of honey. You almost couldn’t stand it. Your eyes brimmed with tears quickly.
“Oh, baby,” Remus gasped, and you choked as you were pressed to him immediately, his arms wrapping around you and practically swaddling your shaking form. You grasped onto his jumper for dear life, sobbing into the wool.
“What happened?” He demanded, his voice suddenly firm, and you might have flinched if you thought it was aimed at you. “For fuck’s sake, will somebody answer me!”
“I got bit!”
Remus went rigid around you. For a moment, he couldn’t believe that the words had left your lips. His frozen arms hesitated to unravel from you, his mouth parting, and he searched your face for signs of some sort of sick prank, but all he saw was swollen lips and teary eyes.
“What?” He whispered.
“It’s my fault,” Sirius sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “We were surrounded. I tried to distract them with an explosion—I—I broke James’ glasses and Y/N got bitten because of me. And now—and now I don’t know what to do—I don’t know what to do—I don’t know how to—how much I can tell you how fucking sorry I am.”
He clung to you, and your heart shattered even more. You felt sick from nerves as you peppered kisses to his wet face.
“It’s not your fault,” you promised him shakily. “It was going to happen to one of us at some point.”
“It didn’t have to!” Sirius exclaimed, almost pleadingly. “It didn’t have to!”
James placed a supportive hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “You’re scaring her, love.”
Sirius froze, and he planted his face into your side. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure him, and you met Remus’ eyes. “It’s alright.”
Tears streaked down his cheeks, dribbling silently, and your heart snapped because you weren’t sure you had ever seen Remus cry before, except when he’d hurt his knee at the start of the apocalypse.
“It doesn’t hurt,” you murmured, stroking the ends of Sirius’ hair in the way he always liked.
Remus crumbled back onto the bed and watched you as you soothingly rubbed James’ arm, too. He had to look away, his gaze burning out of the window where he could see the sun beginning to set past the rising hills.
“We should do it before nightfall,” you said, and felt both James and Sirius go so rigid that they were like mannequins between your arms. Remus watched you carefully. “I’d appreciate it if maybe it was one of you, but I understand if it’s too much. I can do it myself, or ask one of the others.”
“No,” James whimpered.
You stroked his hair as if it would soothe him. It only made him feel worse.
“Let me see it,” Remus said softly.
“You shouldn’t,” you murmured. “I don’t want you to see me any other way—I don’t want you to remember me and even think about those monsters in the same beat. I don’t want to be one of them—I don’t want to be associated with them at all.”
Remus swallowed painfully. “I don’t think I can do it.”
Silence filled the room, because Remus was always the person who made the difficult decisions at camp. He kept a level head unlike Barty, who reacted out of anger first, and he had the ability to switch everything off to make the inhumane choice, which James did not.
He was sort of a leader to them all—and Remus had killed people before, when they had tried to take over an old camp they’d had. He’d killed Marlene when the bite had taken over her, and he’d killed his father at the start of all of this, too. He had no choice.
“Remus,” you tried.
“I can’t do that to you,” he warned testily, and you backed down.
You’d hate to spend your last moments arguing with him.
“I want to go my own way,” you said.
“Let me see it,” Remus declined. “Maybe we can—maybe it’s not too late. We might be able to cut it out.”
You scoffed and turned around so he could see the blood all over your white shirt. “Good luck hacking half my back from my body.”
You heard him make a strangled noise in the back of his throat. His knee audibly cracked as he shifted over to you. You felt one of his warm hands on your shoulder, his breath on top of your heard, and your heart stopped as he moved your shirt to the side.
The deathly silence made your body tremble. You saw the frown on Sirius’ face as he looked past you at Remus.
“What is it, Rem?” Sirius asked. “Is it spreading already?”
Remus’ eyes narrowed, and then he pursed his lips and dropped down onto the bed. His hands were shaking so hard that he forced them to cover his kneecaps, just for something to hold.
“Baby, when did the walker bite you?”
Your nerves flared. “I don’t—I don’t remember, particularly. It must have been right after the explosion. It shocked me, and I couldn’t hear anything for a moment, and then there were about twelve surrounding me at once. I thought maybe it got me then. I didn’t even feel it, I swear.”
“Why did you think you were bitten?”
Your brows knitted together at his tone, and you slowly blinked. “Because—well, because Sirius said I had a bite on me.”
Remus swallowed thickly, and glanced over at Sirius. “Sirius, why would you think this was a bite?”
“It’s not a bite?” Sirius beat you to the question, and you watched his face crumble as he jolted over to you, grasping your shirt and pulling it back. “No, no, no. Look. No. I saw—I saw the teeth marks.”
“There’s no teeth marks?” You gasped, and tried to touch it again, even though you knew you couldn’t reach. “Am I alright?”
“There’s no teeth marks,” Remus confirmed, and James choked, grabbing onto you and pulling you into him.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “I saw it. I saw it, Remus! Do you—do you promise–?”
“Take a look!” Remus urged, a roughness behind his voice as he grabbed Sirius and redirected him to your back. “It’s round, but it’s nowhere near deep enough. That’s a scratch—look, it grazes up to her neck. It’s from glass or something.”
You weren’t sure if you felt relief or confusion. You sank to your knees with James, dizzy.
“Sirius, are you alright?” Remus asked carefully.
“I hit my head,” Sirius breathed out, his eyes wide and trained on you, distant. “I am so fucking—I am so sorry, I was seeing things before, I was—I thought it was a bite—I swear it was a bite. I didn’t—I didn’t know!”
James made a soft noise. “Sirius, why didn’t you say you’d hurt yourself?”
“We had to find Y/N,” Sirius sniffled. “I was just worried about getting you both back safely—I didn’t think I could imagine something like that—something so fucking—Oh my god. I could have gotten you killed. If Remus hadn’t checked, you’d have been dead! For no reason! Because of me!”
You crawled towards him from where he had collapsed to the floor too, and you grabbed him into a tight hug, careful of his head, which, now that you looked at it, was worse than you had thought before. You let a few tears roll onto his neck, stroking his skin delicately.
“You’re hurt, sweetheart,” you whispered to him. “And your mind was playing tricks on you. God knows it’s happened to all of us at some point.”
“Never to that extent,” Sirius swallowed, his throat bobbing. “That was fucking dangerous.”
“It’s okay,” Remus murmured, and reached across to squeeze his hand. “Sirius, you brought both of them back, thinking Y/N had been bitten and James was blind. You put them first—everybody knows you would never have done anything like that on purpose. It’s not your fault.”
James nodded quickly, and kissed the side of Sirius’ head. “You saved our lives with that explosion. We’d have been walker food if you hadn’t done that.”
Sirius sniffled and nodded, leaning into your chest as he shut his eyes. His whole face was a mix of grey and red, so pale and raw it looked painful.
“You can’t go to sleep, Sirius,” you murmured to him. “You probably have a rotten concussion. We need to get you to Pandora.”
“You too, for your shoulder,” Sirius said weakly.
“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” you squeezed his hand.
Once Pandora had checked the three of you out, you all went back to your room. Remus had selected himself for duty to wake Sirius up every couple of hours to check on his head, but Pandora had ordered him plenty of rest for the next week, and as if on command, Sirius had fallen asleep as soon as you got back to your room.
Remus kissed you and James, and then saddled up in the second bed beside Sirius. Your head rested on James’ chest, your fingers tracing patterns on his arm.
“We’ll find you some glasses tomorrow,” you promised him.
“You should rest, too, you know,” James murmured.
You only hummed back.
There was a long silence before James spoke again. “Are you still awake?” He whispered.
“Yeah,” you murmured. “Struggling to fall asleep.”
You’d never been so grateful to be alive in such a horrible world, but you’d also never been so scared of being bitten for real next time, or if it happened to one of the boys.
“I was terrified,” James whispered, stroking your face. “I was angry with myself that I couldn’t help you, and I…It’s stupid, but all I could think about was that if you were going to go, I couldn’t even see your face properly to give you a goodbye.”
You cooed, and felt your eyes burn. You squeezed him so tight you felt his bones.
Eddie x (f) reader
Loosely inspired by the song “I was made for lovin’ you” by Kiss.
Set in the 80s, but Eddie is aged up for my sanity 😂 late 20s - early 30s.
Eddie meets reader by chance, a proper meet cute.
18+, smut ahead. Minors DNI.
Word count: 10.4k
Small towns are stifling, backwards and completely regressive in lots of ways, but without a family or much ambition to reinvent yourself, to find your calling in this big bad world, you had somehow found yourself both adrift and simultaneously tethered to a world you knew almost too intimately. Your mind couldn't stretch to the possibility of leaving the comfort and familiarity of the place you grew up, and when it did, the fear of the unknown ultimately took over so you'd found yourself stuck. Sometimes being comfortable means you’re lost, that is until something wrenches you from that cosy bubble and turns your world upside down. In your case it came in the form of an ostracised stranger who lived on the fringe of society quite happily. He barrelled into your life, quite literally, and upset the narrow path you found yourself unwittingly trudging.
Sometimes there comes someone who changes your world views, who literally flips your idea of your life on its edge and challenges everything you believed about yourself, everything you’d sat in so comfortably for a long time. Change isn’t always a bad thing, though you were resistant to it for an unreasonable amount of time. It’s not that you were scared, you were stuck, accustomed to the boring begrudgery of small-town life and hesitant to introduce chaos into something that worked. But that’s exactly what Eddie Munson introduced - pure, unadulterated chaos.
It was 6pm on the button, and as usual you were in the store long past the end of your shift. Your idiotic manager had absconded once again, leaving you to complete the vast list of closing duties alone. Delayed and irritated, you danced around the store in a blur of limbs and frustration, eyes darting to the waxing hands of your wristwatch. Darting pain shot through the soles of your feet, weary from a day of rushing around after clueless customers, restocking shelves and carrying boxes of inventory - all by yourself, naturally. As those hands ticked by and time passed all too quickly, so too did your patience. He was always doing this, forcing you to close up, by yourself, at the very last minute - leaving you crazed and frantic trying to count coins and sort the lodgements, to clean the mess left by bored teenagers and somehow lock up, with only a miniscule amount of time left to sprint for your bus.
Was it ignorance or plain stupidity? You always thought he was lacking brain cells, but maybe that’s what a lifetime confined within a small town does to a person, perhaps he knew your situation but simply didn’t care. He was a man consumed by his own four-by-four world, never considering the differing circumstances of others. All scenarios were equally likely. It did mean you'd have to absolutely hotfoot it the six minutes to your bus stop, or you'd be waiting ages in the pouring rain for the next one. It beat down violently behind the crystal clear windows, battering against the glass storefront and providing a rather rhythmic soundtrack to your frustrated coin counting. Had you not been in a rush, it may even have been soothing; the white noise of fat raindrops against the window panes now only proved more irritating than comforting. You often loved lying in bed and listening to the sound of water tapping the glass of your bedroom window to its own tempo, but in this situation it only proved to cement your anger. The pitter patter of heavy raindrops mimicked the ticking of the clock, only further highlighting how late the hour grew.
Having finally finished your last task, you breathed a sigh of relief before gathering your personal items. It was finally, FINALLY time to leave. A hasty hand reached for the light switch, flicking the interior lights to the off position and leaving you standing momentarily in relative darkness. You threw up your hood, which was a little too big but would shield you from the majority of the thick droplets falling from the scarily blackened storm clouds overhead. It obscured your vision a little, but you could see your feet and a few steps in front of you, enough to find your way down a straight footpath to the bus stop. Your aching feet scurried down the neatly organised aisles of cassette tapes and vinyl records towards the glass store-front at warp speed. You'd barely cracked the door an inch wide when suddenly it flew out of your hand and you were met face first with a wall of flesh and muscle.
In a split second your world was thrown unceremoniously off its axes. As soon as you’d collided with this mysterious object, you were spun off balance, hurtling backwards onto the thread bare carpet of the store floor. You fell, bouncing on the cold hard ground, but hurting no more than your fragile pride. Falling on your ass wasn’t exactly the most graceful of maneuvers but it saved you from further injury, so you were grateful for little mercies, you supposed.
When you looked toward the door, finally facing the obstacle that stood in your way, that mercy suddenly seemed to dwindle quickly, plunging you headfirst into pure and utter mortification.
Eddie Munson, the infamous metalhead that plagued the small minded folk of your little town stood in the doorway of your record store, tall and imposing from your vantage point on the floor. You’d seen him on occasion, passing in the street or wandering the aisles before plucking a vinyl disc from its perch, rushing to pay and scampering away before wandering eyes could interrupt his day, but generally he kept to himself - out of the reach of idle mouths. He rarely even glanced in your direction, yet now he’d bounded into the store and quite literally swept you off your feet. He didn’t look like the menace he was made out to be, in fact he was quite handsome, but as you sat, ass cheeks smarting from the force of hitting the ground, he definitely didn’t lay in your good graces.
When the initial shock subsided, your face contorted into a scowl, a string of expletives escaping your lips, muttered under your breath before you pulled yourself upright and faced your attacker. Even fully outstretched, Eddie Munson stood about a foot taller than you, and more than a little intimidating. Dark ringlets framed a chiselled face, leather and denim cladding his sculpted torso. Somehow the bubbling anger under the surface didn’t allow you to shrink away from the inevitable confrontation.
“What the hell’s your problem asshole, we’re closed!” you blurted out, though your tone was a little harsher than you intended, volume raised to drive the message home.
“Shit, shit, sorry sweetheart, hey…I uh didn’t mean to scare you, I uh, I was running late and had a record to collect…” he swiftly responded, hands in the air as if you’d confronted him with a loaded gun. You were a little surprised by his meek response, with brown eyes widened in shock, and flushed cheeks, he truly seemed apologetic - even a little embarrassed.
His eyes inevitably drew you in, two pools of thickened molasses that glistened under the stark neon lights beside the front door, bewitching you without a thought. They tempered your growing tantrum somewhat, but he’d have to do more than throw those puppy eyes at you to earn your forgiveness. His eyes reflected the truth of the matter; that he was genuine and not trying to launch you into next week on purpose, and mirrored the fury of yours right back at you.
Eddie was running late, as always. Some days he just couldn’t drag his head from the pillow, it called to him like a siren; his eyelids leaden, heavy and unwilling to open to a world that despised his very existence. Some days the insomnia weighed so heavily on his shoulders that even while awake, his mind couldn’t possibly focus on the task at hand. Even on a job he enjoyed. There was a simple serenity about tending to an engine, tinkering with each part to restore a machine to perfect harmony. Even through the grime and grease, Eddie found beauty amongst the moving parts, each one working together, each one important in the overall machine. He found peace in the art of bringing a car back to life.
Despite the chaos that pursued him through life, Eddie could always lose himself in a project, immersing himself in a world outside his own as he gave aged machinery a new lease on life. And though it was a field that punished his aching body relentlessly, Eddie couldn’t see himself doing anything else - except perhaps music, his other great joy in life.
After each arduous day, his body teetering on the precipice of giving in, riddled with deep seated aches and pains, nothing brought him more bliss than the crackle of a fresh record as that needle hit. There was something unique about the experience of vinyl, something intoxicating. This day brought entirely new horrors to his aching limbs however; a fresh engine block had to be wrestled into the gaping maw of a very pretty Dodge Challenger, a task difficult enough for two men, let alone one on his own. His shoulders had screamed under the weight, his back buckling even with the assistance of several chains and a rusty hoist. Yet somehow, he eventually accomplished his goal and was able to leave the garage in his rear view at the end of the day, satisfied yet entirely exhausted. Now Eddie desired nothing more than to relax with a record he’d had on backorder for months. To lose himself in the dulcet tones of Morrissey in a haze of thick smoke.To melt into the worn cotton sheets and drift off to lyrics of woe and the twang of acoustic guitar strings.
He was a metalhead at heart but Eddie collected music of all kinds; though admittedly his soul truly belonged to the darkside. He could scarcely wait for his next purchase, the long awaited Master of Puppets by Metallica. They’d been advertising it for a year, teasing him, tantalising his earholes with snippets across the radio…but it was only a few weeks until the big reveal, until he could hear the satisfying static of fresh vinyl before succumbing to their particular strand of hefty riff, before losing himself in a realm of guitar strings and kick drums. Till then, the soothing melancholia of The Smiths would see him through, along with the other options in his vastly eclectic collection. The choices depended heavily on his mood, there was a record for any and all feelings adorning his sagging shelves.
Typically though, on the one day Eddie desperately needed some musical relief, his journey to the fountain of music was delayed; traffic sprawled for miles around Hawkins, delayed by a crash on the freeway just outside the town. Vehicles inched at a torturously slow pace, each one purposefully placed in his path to further the frustration of a heavy work day. It brewed with each minute that passed, bubbling over with each newly illuminated brake light. To stop himself from developing total road rage, Eddie switched on his custom-built stereo system, his pride and joy, and drowned out any lingering thoughts in his head. A familiar voice boomed through the speakers - the soothing tones of Robin Buckley reporting the evening news before setting Hawkins alight with her own particular brand of indie and pop rock. Though it wasn’t his usual style, Eddie often tuned in just to catch up with an old friend. Rockin’ Robin occasionally snuck in a heavier track, and though she never said it outright, exposing him even further to the ire of the masses across the airwaves, Eddie knew it was for his benefit alone. A small rebellion to the status quo. Some days it was that little personal touch that painted a much needed smile across a weary, oil streaked face. Knowing he wasn’t entirely alone was a comforting thought. Although he was used to being on the fringe of society, at times it did become tiresome, the constant stares and idle chatter wore away at his psyche, draining his enthusiasm for life bit by bit. He saw less and less of his old school friends, even those who remained in Hawkins long past their time seemed to drift away, but moments like this brightened the gloom of isolation.
Eventually he inched his way up main street, and with only a few short minutes to go till closing time, Eddie recklessly double parked, hopping from his van as if his life depended on it and sprinting towards the slightly ajar doorway of his favourite place in sleepy Hawkins. His fervour soon came to a screeching halt though, when he was met with some resistance, a missile of flesh and bone barrelling into him at warp speed. He didn’t know what hit him at first, all he could register was the thump and the sudden throbbing from his chest bone. He stumbled a bit, his feet wavering from their tentative spot on the thin carpet, but he remained upright; albeit dazed by the very sudden strike to the sternum. Eddie looked down to see where the impact came from, only to be incredibly surprised by the sight before him. Two wide glassy eyes stared up at him from the floor, limbs sprawled out where they fell. For a grief moment, eyes met, reading each other’s mutual surprise painted across flash-frozen features. It was a brief glance, a minuscule moment, before your face contorted into a grimace and your anger bubbled over the top, emerging from your mouth in a string of profanity.
He didn’t hear a word that came after that point. Eddie could only stare, lips falling agape like an idiot. He was instantly smitten. In all his years treading holes in the carpet of this record shop, he’d never noticed the pretty lady behind the counter - he was usually too preoccupied with avoiding the drama of small minded gossips and running late for dinner with his uncle to stop and admire what was always right in front of him. How had he been so blind? He barely heard the barrage of poison leave your lips; had he not been looking directly at them, he wouldn’t have even registered the existence of the words. He’d have stood staring and silent, wordless like a fool. Judging by the intensity etched into your soft features, it seemed only right to apologise for storming into the store like a freight train and knocking you across the aisle. He wanted..no, needed to make it right, and perhaps even improve his chances of securing a potential date in the future. Besides, pissing off one of the few dealers of his musical addiction in townwas a bad idea in any universe.
Eddie Munson was not an unknown entity in the small town of Hawkins - far from it. His name alone was infamous. Not only did he come from a long line of rather nefarious swindlers and cheats - like his father before him, but Eddie had his own demons to outrun. Though the accusations of devil worship and murder were a little more farfetched in the scheme of criminality, they still followed him, hanging over his head like a guillotine - ready to drop at any minute. Like a dark raincloud, his reputation preceded him, followed him into every aspect of life. There was no escape when you presented yourself so far outside the norm, when your lifestyle and fashion choices didn’t fit in with the well groomed, beige version of life expected of a Hawkins native.
Despite his infamy, Eddie always tried his best (certainly as an adult at least) to refute his reputation. To behave like a proper gentleman and give the locals no more reason to talk, no more reasons to stare. He wouldn’t change himself, or the way he presented to the world, but he was careful to never draw unwanted attention.
You remembered him, the brief glances you’d caught of his unruly thatch of curls ducking through the aisles. Any time he’d graced the record store as a patron, he’d been polite and courteous, albeit quite distracted by the whispers of the closed-minded locals.
You’d always had a certain amount of pity for him, trouble seemed to follow him like a dark cloud throughout life, for the fact of his name alone, let alone the way he presented himself. Though unlike your fellow townsfolk, you didn’t find his very presence offensive. In fact you’d always thought him quite handsome, if a little rough around the edges.
This encounter did little to soften that hard image, but despite your annoyance and irritation, you saw a glint of sincerity in Eddie’s eyes, even after your rather uncharacteristically angry outburst. Even as you stood pin straight before him, doing your best to ignore the pain blooming in your hip, Eddie seemed to shrink under your heavy stare. You saw the truth of his character reflected in those dark irises.
“You alright? Sorry again..could I uh, maybe offer you dinner? Reckon I owe you at least a meal for the inconvenience”
“Absolutely not Munson, I'm fine. Now get out of my shop, I’m gonna miss my bus!”
Eddie took a step back, visibly deflated, shrinking inwards before your eyes, yet to his credit he persisted anyway.
“I could give you a ride, if you want…”
“Christ, you don’t get the hint do you?” in your frustration becoming more animated than usual.
“So I’ve been told..” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the awkward tension.
“What did you want anyway, can’t it wait?” your voice cut through the darkness, sharp and to the point.
“I…I had a record on order, just wanted to pick it up..I can come back..” he directed his gaze towards the floor, all traces of bravery and bravado fading quickly.
“Fine..” you relented, walking back into the store begrudgingly, flicking one set of lights on and digging through the pre-ordered items behind the counter. You were late anyway, no point in sprinting down main street only to miss the bus regardless. You’d take his offer of a ride, only because he was the source of your tardiness. And that little fall hurt more than you'd ever reveal publicly; that too was the fault of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.
However, you unwittingly found yourself fascinated by the freak, the handsome weirdo that stood before you. The more you looked, the more you saw. His hands drew your eye, more than once. Heavy tarnished rings adorned long thick fingers. His pale skin illuminated the bulging veins just beneath the surface. The first time you caught yourself staring unabashedly was right there in the store.
Whether out of impatience or merely habit, as you rifled through a box of pre ordered records, Eddie stood at the edge of the counter, drumming his digits absentmindedly against the glossy laminate counter top. An indistinguishable tune formed on his lips, no louder than a hum, but you were solely focused on his bejeweled fingers tapping rhythmically at eye level. They became an immediate fascination, something your eyes were innately drawn to. You couldn’t help but stare, imagining all the uses he’d have for those digits. You didn't know that he'd spotted your shameless ogling, you didn't know that he could almost hear the thoughts whirring through your mind as he now purposefully flexed and drummed a more complex rhythm against the counter, waiting for his precious vinyl sleeve to emerge from the pile under your hesitant hand.
The next time you found yourself mesmerised by Eddie's hands, he was driving you home.
The passing streetlights illuminated his fingers against the dark, cracked leather steering wheel. Well-loved jewellery reflected the amber glow of the bulbs overhead, glinting and glimmering in the darkness. You couldn't help but notice the way his fingers curled around the wheel, the way the veins in his forearm stood proudly under his pale skin, pulsing and jutting as he squeezed the steering column. This time though, Eddie caught your brazen staring and decided to have some fun.
With a grin threatening to break through, the corners of his mouth fighting against his usual stoicism, Eddie started moving his fingers more purposefully - bending and contracting each one around the worn leather to the rhythm of the track playing at a murmur across the stereo system. Each squeeze of that softened fabric forced the veins in his arms to the surface, each flex made them dance under the dim light. The shadows intensified in the darkness, making them look even more prominent against his ink stained skin. He took pleasure in knowing your eyes were firmly fixed on his thick digits, though Eddie dearly wished he could hear the thoughts going through your mind in that moment. Oh to be a fly on the wall of your mind, to hear lewd thoughts about his body from such a specimen of beauty. To feel wanted would be an intoxicating thing. To be lusted after came a close second. Without even glancing over, Eddie could sense the heat rising in your cheeks. He could see you fist your skirt in his peripheral, a clear sign of frustration and suppressed desire. Acutely aware of the warmth growing exponentially within you, Eddie made a play yet again, pushing his carefully crafted luck under the cover of night.
“So eh, would now be a good time to ask for a date sweetheart or should I just let you keep staring for free?” Eddie grinned. Even in the dark he could tell that you’d turned crimson, fire burning up the column of your neck to the tips of your ears.
“I uh….I guess…yeah, okay Munson. One meal.” you spluttered, caught between mild embarrassment and total mortification. Audibly gulping, you buried your lustful thoughts behind the shame of getting caught. Though somehow the punishment didn’t seem the most awful prospect, not anymore at least.
Having finally relented to Eddie’s request for a date, and agreeing to a time, you settled on a casual setting, nothing fancy or high stakes. It was only a meal after all, and neither you nor Eddie could afford anything extravagant. Eddie was a man of more than modest means - despite working a full time job, and living practically rent free in his uncle’s old trailer, he was unequivocally broke, all the time. Luckily, he enjoyed a rather simple lifestyle; eating spaghettios from a tin was a typical night-in these days. He’d never had much growing up, and though money meant very little to him, he’d been acutely aware of his status in society, even as a child. Now that he had his own stream of income, his own money and independence, he realised how difficult it was to keep it in his pocket.
It was only when he caught a glimpse of you through the vast glass windows, the neon light illuminating you from the darkness, that he immediately regretted his choice of venue and questioned his sanity - was this even real or just another messed up dream? He started to question why a woman like you was giving him the time of day, but before the doubts got their hooks in too deep, you appeared in front of him, the door of the diner swinging wide, a high pitched bell announcing your arrival.
Eddie’s eyes widened as you walked towards him, bulging from their sockets as if straight out of a cartoon. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him, as goofy as he was. Though you didn’t know him well, you found it slightly endearing how theatrical Eddie could be. Even as a nerdy teenager, he was always drawing people’s eyes with his antics, though sometimes for the wrong reasons.
“Well shit sweetheart, don't you brush up well?”
Ever the gentleman, he stood and greeted you with a peck to the cheek, stepping back a few paces afterwards to admire your outfit. His whole face lit up like a kid on Christmas, glowing like he won first prize at the fair. Like he'd been given a gift merely by basking in your presence. It did wonders for your confidence, such a simple gesture from such an unexpected source sparked a warmth in your chest you never thought would come from Eddie Munson of all people.
“heh, thanks Eddie, not lookin’ too bad yourself” you chuckled, immediately blushing at the over zealous compliment. He was in his typical attire, donning double denim as always, though underneath the patched battle jacket lay a rather crisp black shirt. He even seemed to have put product in his hair, each curl bounced across his shoulders, perfectly defined ringlets in their jet black form. “Flattery works with me sweetheart” he winked, before shaking his head in disbelief. Eddie muttered “Look like you were made for me, you're gonna be trouble, I can tell..” before chuckling heartily and once again cracking the widest smile you’d ever seen, cheeks stretching wide with a grin. In his typically over dramatic fashion, Eddie showed you to a free booth, one hand hovering at the small of your back, the other expressively gesturing towards the open chair, before bowing and waiting for you to take a seat. Everything he did was so exaggerated but you couldn't help but blush at his most unexpected gentlemanly behaviour. Even if it was an act, put on just for your enjoyment, it was working wonders.
Even as Eddie moved around the table to his own seat, leaving your orbit, his scent lingered in your nostrils; smoke, cheap cologne, and the faintest hint of engine oil. It was uniquely his, and seemed to stick around even as he moved briskly through the space. As he sat across from you, he had a look you could only describe as pride plastered across his face, it was honestly adorable. Not a word you thought you’d ever use in describing him, before that night. But life has a funny way of subverting everything you thought you knew to be true, and sometimes throwing the most pleasant of surprises your way.
Sitting across from Eddie in that tight booth was an experience in itself; your knees brushed against each other under the table, subtle acts of physical connection. He was tall and awkward, all limbs. Though you suspected he was crowding your space on purpose, using his height as a convenient excuse to feel the warmth of your skin seep into his own. These small, unexpected cracks in an otherwise gentlemanly facade were certainly surprising, yet not altogether unwanted. Throughout the date, Eddie occupied your space in every aspect, leaning forward as you talked, hanging on your every word, his scent wafting across the table and thoroughly engulfing you. Never before had a man been so attentive when you spoke, never had someone paid such undivided attention to your words. He seemed genuinely interested, despite his very obvious attempts to get closer physically. You did catch his eyes dart to your mouth more than once, his tongue popping between plump lips to dampen his desire. Small cracks in his restraint, tiny slivers of a carnal appetite breaking through an otherwise convivial front.
He was even more charming still when he chimed in on the conversation, though more than a little dramatic. Still, as he talked with his hands, each word punctuated with grandiose expressions and thoroughly animated gestures, his chunky rings glinted in the harsh diner light, highlighting his hands once more. You couldn’t help but let your attention drift occasionally away from his pretty face to those long, girthy fingers. Familiar feelings rose to the surface at the sight, feelings you tried desperately to stifle, at least until the date was over and you could take care of them in the privacy of your own home. You weren’t quite as brazen about your staring in public this time, and Eddie had yet to notice.
You had to admit, the date was going well. You hadn’t been enthusiastic about it originally, in fact you’d barely given him the time of day on your first meeting and now regretted the harsh words you’d thrown at him that evening. It was fun, light and almost seemed innately natural to be around Eddie. He had a way of instantly relaxing a slightly awkward situation like a first date. Despite his theatrics and mild eccentricities, Eddie had a calming aura, you couldn’t explain it or rationalise it to yourself, but you couldn't help but lose yourself wholly in it. Conversation ebbed and flowed, naturally dipping into topics like each other’s interests over plates of perfectly crispy fries and two vastly different flavoured milkshakes.
“I’m sorry, I don’t really listen to Metallica…” you mumbled, before popping another heavily sauced fry into your open maw. Despite running a record store, you didn’t much listen to the heavier bands. It was a rather niche market in a small town like Hawkins, where even the heartthrob Bon Jovi was considered risqué. Folks would’ve been clutching their pearls if you blasted Ride the Lightning at full volume across the store speakers. It wasn’t that you didn’t like metal, but it just didn’t appear in your usual rotation, especially in a job where you consumed so much music your ears practically throbbed at the end of the working day.
A deep, overexaggerated gasp followed, drawing your attention away from your plate and back towards the rather comical Eddie, who was now leaning to one side, his hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as if his heart physically hurt from your very tame and matter-of-fact statement. You couldn’t help but laugh, a thoroughly hearty, full bellied laugh to which Eddie responded “Sweetheart, you wound me.”
“I uh, I have heard some Black Sabbath before…you like Ozzy right? Their records do well at the store with the eh..alternative crowd”. You immediately saw the twinkle return to Eddie’s eye. “Ozzy’s the Prince of Darkness…he’s a legend…shit! I can’t believe a girl like you would know his name..but of course, you’d know more about music than most…” He leaned back into the cushioned facade of the booth, fully relaxing into the conversation. “Yeah, it’s kinda my job to know…” you smirked back, once again shovelling fries past your lips before washing them down with a mouthful of strawberry milkshake. This time you caught Eddie red-handed; his eyes drifted unabashedly to your mouth, watching how you wrapped your lips around the red and white striped plastic straw. How hints of milkshake were left behind before you swiped them away with the tip of your tongue. He was mesmerised, entirely and thoroughly bewitched by you.
Instead of embarrassing him, you kept up the charade, pretending like you didn’t notice, internally kicking your feet at capturing the attention of the infamous metalhead. Before now, you didn’t even know that was a thing you wanted, but to be truly seen is a wonderful aphrodisiac. It’s intoxicating, being sincerely appreciated and adored; to have someone look at you and actually see the person, not just the mask or the painted exterior. Eddie didn’t exactly create the best first impression, but more than made up for it on this date. His intentions were crystal clear from the beginning, and to give him credit, he never wavered in his quest, not even once. And on top of that, he made you laugh. Not just a superficial giggle, no, he made your bones rattle beneath the surface, he made your abs hurt and your cheeks ache without even trying too hard. It was refreshing, and certainly a welcome experience when dating had been an absolute hellscape in your adult life. Eddie was such a breath of fresh air, you hardly felt the ticking of the clock. That night time was measured not in hours but in heartbeats, loud and full.
The night eventually came to an end, despite stretching every minute to its last. Every step out of the diner was hesitant, every step away from Eddie harder as your heart pulled you back. It wasn’t until he offered you a ride home that the thought of going back to his place graced your mind. Perhaps it was ill-advised and rash, perhaps you were simply following your instincts, but it didn’t take much persuading to have Eddie drive back to his place, your body trembling with anticipation in the front seat.
Admittedly, you hadn’t wanted the night to end, but the further out from town that rickety van travelled, the more you began regretting your rather impulsive choices. The darkness closed in around Eddie’s vibrating van, long stretches of blackness peppered with faded ochre road markings. The rattling of metal from the depths of his humble van did little to help the anxiety welling within, a sickening unease bubbling from the depths of your stomach. Outside, the night lay black and still, the trees lining the roadside swayed with the gentle breeze. The only other sound came from Eddie’s radio, the buttery smooth tones of Prince playing on a random radio station, just loud enough to break the silence, yet not loud enough to drown out any disquiet in your mind. Still the thoughts swirled, like mist rolling in over calm hills, like smoke billowing from a newborn flame. Was this a stupid decision? It was only the first date, only a casual dinner…And despite your change of heart, it was still the infamous Eddie Munson. Who knows what you’d be walking into, with no means of transport to escape. He was a wildcard, a bit of an unknown, and you had walked blindly into the night with him. As you sat mere inches away from the man who’d charmed you into his van, you kept those anxieties inside, never once betraying your innermost fears on your face.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the crunching of gravel signalled the end of your journey, and your arrival at your inevitable destination. The night swallowed all within your eyeline, with only the faint flickering of porchlight illuminating the neighbours on either side of Eddie’s home. A trailer park drenched in night, steeped in blackness which pulled you from safety and into uncertainty. That black night somehow enhanced those most unfounded fears, and allowed your apprehension to fully drag you under.
Your feet moved of their own accord, mounting several concrete steps until they crossed the worn metal threshold. Eddie’s home immediately invited you in, despite the growing unrest bubbling within you. Everything about this seemed foreign and strange. You weren’t the type to follow men home blindly, especially after only the first date. Besides, finding a man interesting enough to occupy more of your time was rare, very rare..but this was dangerous, let alone reckless for multiple reasons. In a town of busibodies and judgemental small-minded folk, you couldn’t help but overhear the nasty rumours, the stories of poor Chrissy Cunningham who was found in this very trailer - no doubt a sordid event that haunts Eddie to this day. And though he was cleared of any wrongdoing or involvement, you couldn’t help but let that doubt creep in as you crossed the threshold. “Lead the way, Munson” you giggled, your bravado ringing utterly false and short lived. He noticed your nervous shuffling immediately, the impermanence of your gaze and shift in demeanour as you stood in the centre of the small living space, awkwardly surveying your surroundings before deciding where to perch.
“There's nothing to worry about love, okay? You're safe, I promise. We’ll throw some music on yeah?” he threw a half hearted smile your way, trying to quell any anxieties with the warmth of his smile.
You didn’t answer, just looked around at the various collectables cluttering the walls, at the couches that looked comfy and well worn in. It didn’t seem like the type of place that could see such horror, it didn’t seem like the home of a killer.
“Sorry for the mess, maid took the week off…” he laughed nervously, fixing the haphazardly strewn pillows and picking up stray socks from between the couch cushions. You could only give a half hearted chuckle, as nerves overwhelmed your anxious mind.
“Sit, you look like you’re waiting for a drug deal or something…not that kinda date sweetheart” Eddie winked, slightly putting you at ease as you sniggered with a little more enthusiasm. He was so ridiculously cheesy and somehow his larger than life personality managed to break the tension, one stupid joke seemed to calm some of the nerves building under the surface. You didn’t know why you let one vague rumour cloud your judgement, why you let whispers and idle gossip cloud the facts. You’d spent hours in his presence now, and not one red flag was raised, not one. You had to trust that your instincts were right, that he was in fact a good guy who’d just been handed a raw deal in this small, narrow minded town.
It seemed all too easy to fall into the trap of believing the fantastical tales you’d heard about Eddie, without any of the facts to back them up. It was all too easy to condemn a man you barely knew. So you summoned your bravery, and more importantly your common sense, and relaxed back into the threadbare sofa. You followed your heart here, your mind would just have to scramble to keep up. He'd been nothing but a gentleman the entire night, nothing but kind and unexpectedly gentle for a man with such a fearsome reputation. Perhaps underneath all the chains and bravado, this was Eddie.
Eddie whirred around the cosy space, plucking a vinyl record from a stacked shelf and placing it carefully onto a record player. There was something unique about the sound of the needle hitting vinyl for that first time, the artifacts and imperfections never detracted from the experience, they merely enhanced it.
“Beer?” he offered, nimbly making his way around the island and into the miniature kitchen.
You nodded, and heard rattling somewhere behind you, before he threw himself down on the couch, his movements large and embellished. Two tall bottles coated in frigid condensation sat delicately between his fingers, clinking against one another as he slumped into the worn fabric of the sofa. As he handed you the beverage, your fingers brushed against calloused knuckles. Neither one of you flinched, neither one recoiled. Your eyes met briefly, the air between you charged with all the unspoken emotion of the day. Silent yet palpable tension lingered, yet neither one of you were brave enough to break it just yet.
Eddie couldn't quite believe his luck, every touch, every stolen glance, every brush of his knee against yours felt electric and even better still, you didn’t pull away. In fact, you leaned into it, your pupils blowing wide and your body subconsciously tilting towards him. Good things didn’t come to men with a burdensome past, men with ghosts haunting their narrative, and yet there you were. It seemed surreal to have someone listen and truly hear his words. To have someone look at him with desire sparkling in their eyes, to truly lust after him and find value in his company. It had been a long time since he’d had a date, a girlfriend…his infamy had tainted the dating pool in Hawkins, had turned many against him or had people afraid of ruining their own opportunities by associating with the ‘freak’. He couldn’t help but lean in to you, mirroring your stance,crowding across the cheap aluminium diner table, head propped up against the hands that you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from. Nose so close that he could smell your subtle floral perfume, your clean and slightly fruity shampoo, the fresh lotion you’d lathered onto your skin. Eddie wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by you, to be engulfed by everything so uniquely you.
His mind hummed sweetly from the endorphins coursing through his veins, a natural high he’d never felt quite so intensely before. His steps felt weightless, even as he left that diner, when most would be disappointed with the end of the night, his heavy boot clad feet hopping around the side of his van to open your door, even as he scooted around the dented bonnet and slid into his molded leather seat, steering wheel adjusted just to his liking. Every movement buzzed, his skin tingling with excitement and a rare cheery disposition. However, the minute he sat in beside you, he could hear the cogs turning in your head, the atmosphere instantly shifting,his blood running cool beneath the surface with the change.
An all too familiar sense of unease set in. A sense that everything had changed, that his past had caught up with him once more, tainting everything good. A shaking hand reached for the worn knobs on the stereo, adjusting the volume just to drown out the deafening silence. To at least pretend that he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from you. He could tell something had happened between that diner booth and the front seat of his van. Was it just cold feet? Second thoughts? Had he done or said something to scare you off? Or was it simply the ghosts of rumours past coming back to haunt him - to ruin yet another date, to cause yet another pretty woman to flee.
He was sick of this town’s idle gossip and hushed threats upscuttling the course of his life. His trauma had become a topic of whisper and rumour, yet nobody dared ask him for the truth. They assumed what they wanted to, and forced their opinions upon him on a daily basis. It had been at least ten years since the night he found Chrissy in the trailer, ten years and still he felt eyes upon him wherever he went. Still he felt the sting of blame and disapproval from people he grew up with, people who knew his character and still let prevailing theories overshadow the truth. Eddie hoped that his past hadn’t come back to ruin yet another relationship, but he’d seen the look on your face before. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he should’ve insisted on bringing you home, not back to his place and pushing his luck. But now, to brooch that subject felt like a monstrous task. So the van stayed true to its course, his hands gripping the leather bound wheel as if it would run away.
The walls in his humble home seemed to close in around the two of you, the already cosy space now feeling smaller and intensely claustrophobic. It wasn’t until you felt Eddie’s warmth beside you, the ice cold bottle placed gingerly between your fingers, that your mind snapped back to reality. It was only then that you met his eye, your hands hovering close. For a moment neither of you dared to move, both stuck in a rather awkward silence, that is until Eddie decided to push his luck, to make the first move and grasp onto your shaking hand. Calloused fingers wrapped around soft trembling ones, steadying them against the chilled surface of a damp beer bottle. You could barely rationalise your feelings, barely comprehend your own conflicting emotions. There was a heat bubbling within you, a growing desire to follow your earlier instincts, yet your mind warred with itself, a battle between reality and fear. A conflict of the known and unknown. Eddie was certainly an unknown, a walking mystery in a cute candy coating. You had to decide in an instant whether you were willing to take the risk.
Now was the time to pull back, to give in to the niggling doubts and recoil from Eddie’s tender touch. Yet the warmth from his hands grounded you, settling your mind on one course of action.
“You okay?” Eddie probed, his doe eyes meeting yours as your hands lingered together on that bottle. You nodded, releasing a simple “mhm”, mesmerised as he looked at you. There was something special about Eddie, something intriguing and captivating. Something that calmed your nerves with one look, one touch.
Hearing that little noise, Eddie couldn’t help but crowd your space on the couch, leaning into your sphere before whispering against the shell of your ear.
“Tonight I wanna give it all to youIn the darkness
There's so much I wanna do”
A shiver ran the length of your spine at those honeyed words. They were familiar, perhaps you’d heard them in a song before, but the way they came tumbling from his lips pulled a deeply held desire from within. Something stronger than the tingle you’d felt at the sight of his fingers drumming around his steering wheel. Something more intense than the heat that built earlier in the night as he brushed against you, under the table. And as you looked into his eyes, you noticed that they too were blown wide with lust, his pupils jet black and the size of saucers, dark and all consuming. It was the first time that day you’d seen the raw, carnal side of Eddie.
It seemed to devour the brown in his eyes, swallow the sweet, jovial part of him and replace it with an insatiable hunger. He hadn't even touched you properly yet, but you felt the ghost of his hands everywhere, your body anticipating the sensation of their calloused pads against your skin. His warmth surrounded you, enveloped you so that there was nothing else but him. Eddie stole your senses from you with only a few words, he snatched the air from your lungs with little more than a whisper. Need coiled in your gut, a restless serpent that shifted every time his eyes shifted. It seemed as if Eddie wasn't immune to the call of lust either, you could see the visible effects of desire etched into his skin. The furrow of a frustrated brow, the clench of a jaw under strain. “Touch me Eddie, before I change my mind..” you whispered, a smirk appearing on your face as you watched his eyes light up. He wasted no time in doing just that.
His hands were impossibly gentle, one moving to cradle your jaw as if you would break beneath his roughened fingertips, the other anchoring itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you close. You mirrored Eddie’s actions, one hand ghosting beside your jaw, the other exploring the breadth of Eddie’s trembling body as far as you could reach without shifting too much - running the length of his denim clad thigh, feeling the muscle twitch and tense beneath your hand. The closer you got to his groin, the prettier the sound he made.
“Careful sweetheart, drivin’ me wild here..” Eddie laughed breathily, before sucking air in once more. Your hand followed its course, moving up towards his belt before settling at his crotch.
This time it was your turn to gasp, to draw breath in disbelief. You had an inkling that Eddie would be well endowed, he was tall, muscular, generally brawny…but you’d no idea how it’d feel under your hand. His erection strained against the work worn denim. It felt thick, girthy beneath your svelte fingers. You could feel the warmth escaping through the stretched fabric, the heat emanating from a cock trapped behind a cloth prison. It had been a while since you’d felt such a fine example of manhood. You took your time with him, running your fingers across the rough denim, enjoying the sounds he made while squirming beneath your gentle hand.
He expressed his frustration by closing the gap between you, his lips now only a breath away from yours. You could feel the hitch in his breath as you ran your fingers across the surface of his shaft, you felt his heart speed up, his blood pump faster until he finally captured your lips in a kiss. The kiss started soft, coaxing, both of you relaxing into the feel of each other's body. It was a chaste meeting of flesh, a pressing of lips together in a testing of the waters. Once Eddie saw how you melted into him, when he felt how you enjoyed it and even pulled him closer, only then did he feel okay deepening the kiss. Only then did he probe further with his tongue, lapping at the incredibly soft skin of your lips, before they parted and allowed him in. Before tongues danced around each other, only cementing his unrelenting need. One large palm explored the dips and curves of your body, moving from its place on your jaw, down the long column of your throat and over the crest of your breast. This time it was your turn to squirm, to wriggle beneath the tender weight of Eddie’s roaming hand. Your pulse jumped under the skin, frantic and frenzied under the surface of your throat, your heart vigorously pumping blood through your system as a response to his delightful stimuli. The room around you seemed to spin, your world tossed into a rather enjoyable chaos and all you could focus on was him.
Eddie noticed your racing heart, the thrum of your ribs beneath his fingers, rattling the solid silver rings against your chest, and was instantly concerned.
“Hey, hey, are you okay? We don't need to do this, just uh, gimme the word and I'll walk away okay? Can even drive you back to your place” Eddie softly whispered, his lips tearing themselves from yours to check in. “I’m fine, no, it’s not that…I don’t wanna go ..I’m just a little nervous I guess…”
“I’ll be gentle sweetheart, promise” Eddie winked, his grip loosening just a little.
Soft lips met willing ones once again. This time it wasn’t restrained, or innocent, this time it was passionate and hungry. Raw desire spilling from unfiltered souls. This time, all doubts and fears leeched into Eddie's skin, his warmth and good nature just reinforcing your choices. Large palms grasped your waist, hoisting you upwards and onto his lap with one swift movement. A surprised gasp left slightly swollen lips, swallowed by Eddie’s fervour.
You wriggled in his lap, finding a comfortable position while also feeling Eddie’s tumescent cock beneath you, trapped beneath layers of ragged denim and cotton, as the growls grew heavy in his chest. Each undulation of your hips against him, driving him closer and closer to madness. The blood in his body rushed directly to his groin. His hands started to wander, palms flat against your smooth skin. They felt possessive, yet strangely gentle, like Eddie was holding back for your sake. It wasn't long until one rounded the dip of your lower back, venturing boldly across the curve of your arse. Time moved almost too swiftly from that point, in a flurry of clothing and guttural moans. You reached for the hem of Eddie's shirt, pulling it across a broad chest to reveal skin littered with ink, dark artwork standing proudly against a stark canvas.
Your fingertips traced the inky black outline of a spider gracing the side of his neck, delicate and spindly. You followed the drawings downwards, each delicate touch coaxing a shiver through Eddie's exposed skin. Had it not been for the oh so prominent feeling of featherlight fingertips tracing the artwork across his body, Eddie would've sworn this was all a dream. A torturous, delicious dream. If it wasn't for the heat emanating through his jeans, a warmth spreading from your core, Eddie would've slapped himself to test his theory. But he could feel you, all too real and entirely smitten, riding his lap like he was a bucking bronco. He couldn't quite believe his luck, especially with how you met. But Eddie knew when to count his blessings, and savour every minute of this absolute miracle.
Warm hands pulled you closer, repositioning your body atop his tented lap. Brown eyes stared, silently asking permission to explore further, to go beyond the barriers of cotton and lace. Eddie’s work-toughened palms encased the underside of your breasts, tenderly cradling their weight before tracing the outline of your nipples through the thin layers of cotton and delicate black lace. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly where to touch you to coax a reaction from your pliant body.
It didn’t take long to have you a wriggling mess beneath skillful hands. To have your hips seeking out their own source of friction against a burgeoning erection. Even Eddie’s ring clad hands soon weren't enough, not enough to sate his burning desires or enough to quell your impatient nature. Though the moments in between seemed like a lifetime, it was mere seconds until gaping lips locked onto peaked nipples. Your whole frame leaned into the intense heat from an enthusiastic mouth; back arched, eyes shut to all other sensations. Even the awkwardness of fabric bunched around your chest couldn’t distract from the mastery of Eddie Munson’s mouth at work.
“Just take it off Eddie…for the love of god take it off” you panted, reaching around to pinch the clasp of your bra, before Eddie ripped the undergarment from your torso, tossing your bra and top aside in one swift move. “No need to tell me twice love” Eddie grinned, before resuming his place, suckling at your pebbled nipples while his hands enveloped your back. You could feel the cold metal of each and every ring pressed into your skin, and the path they traced across your flesh. You could feel the tip of a textured tongue sweeping, pressure building with each sloppy swipe.
Something broke within Eddie, a feral ferocity taking control. The way you held him, the grip of your fingers through the root of his wild curls, the innate reaction of your body to his unrelenting ministrations, it spurred his every move. His lips claimed every inch of exposed skin, tracing searing paths across a goosebumped surface. Your body melted beneath him, reacting viscerally to every touch, bending and moulding to the shape of his hands. Eddie had never felt so melded with another human, he’d never felt so totally wanted. Even in previous relationships, it didn’t feel quite this easy, this natural. He craved your body with every fibre of his being, longed to be closer, to feel you in the most intimate way possible. But you had to want it, you had to crave him just as much. Judging by the swell of your hips against his lap, and the muffled squeals as he devoured your flesh, Eddie had a feeling you felt the same…he just needed more definite confirmation.
“M’ not gonna last if you keep that up, shit, feels too good sweetheart” Eddie mumbled into the column of your throat. “Well then, better get to it” you giggled, your hands fidgeting with the pewter buckle clasping his all too skinny jeans closed.
Eddie’s mouth fell agape, both in shock and silent prayer. “Need a hand there sweetheart?” he huffed, the air from his nose fanning your cheek. “Don’t worry big boy, I’ve got two” you winked, laughing immediately at your ridiculous attempt at flirting.
From that first meeting in the record store, you knew that this slightly disheveled metalhead’s hands would be your undoing. Though back then you certainly never imagined that those steel clad digits would end up roaming between your legs, probing between folded flesh in pursuit of your pleasure. The cool metal of each ring affected the very texture of your skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface as they brushed against your inner thigh.
Eddie’s movements were restrained, methodical, his heart beating in time with his gentle hand. They were everything you imagined, and despite the evidence of manual labour etched into his skin, his fingers worked nimbly and with great skill. You hadn’t expected him to hold back, to touch you with such reverence, a silent worship in smooth, measured movements. The heel of his palm provided a little friction as his fingers worked their way within, gathering fluid to ease their journey. Eddie’s tender onslaught didn’t cease until you were practically begging for relief, until he could feel your body humming beneath his hands, the coiled tension evident through your skin, your cunt thoroughly slick and ready for him.
With a quick, silent nod, a gentle pop and an unavoidable scrunch of your nose as you lowered yourself into his lap, Eddie just about came undone in a single moment. He’d never heard a more wondrous noise than the breathy little gasp that escaped from your lips as your body settled into the feeling, the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate his girth. He’d truly never heard anything sweeter.
Even as the springs creaked beneath the both of you, a strained metallic whine, the threadbare couch cushions rough under his skin, Eddie couldn’t help but be overtaken with warmth. A fuzzy bloom burned deep within his chest at the very sight of your breathless mouth hanging open. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot, sat in his cluttered living room with the most beauteous creature perched atop him, joined skin to tingling skin, flesh to sweat veiled flesh. In that moment, there was nothing more perfect, nothing Eddie wanted more than the person nestled into his bare body. And to feel so wanted in return, it was intensely intoxicating.
Little did he know, a similar heat bloomed within you, the same affection growing with each tender caress,each minute shift of the thick cock within you. In that room, there was only Eddie and the sensation of him engulfing you. He was everywhere - buried deeply within, thighs firm and steady beneath you, grounding you to that spot. His hands held you close, fingers spread wide across the span of your back, grasping for an anchor to reality.
His breath fanned your throat, hearts racing as the two of you settled into that initial union.
As soon as Eddie could think clearly, as soon as he could vocalise his satisfaction, broken words came tumbling from a slack jaw.
“Jesus christ love, you were practically made for me…so good…so perfect…fuuuck” Eddie grunted, his head thrown back onto the couch cushions, mind far away from himself.
Like the tide, the sharp edge of the initial sting subsided, ebbing into a subtle yet satisfying ache. Eddie was lost under a wave of bliss, until he felt soft fingers guiding his eyes back to you, not wanting him to miss a thing. Softened brown eyes took in every detail, the flush adorning your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell with each laboured breath. But as his eyes wandered the span of your body, Eddie became transfixed by the spot where your bodies met, a perfect entwining of radiant skin and writhing muscle. A union he never expected to happen but certainly delighted in. The glistening sheen of precum was painted across his tumescent cock as it disappeared into your body; Eddie knew it wouldn't be a lengthy session but christ, he'd go again and again, all night if you needed him to. It was worth every ounce of physical effort for this view, for the sensation of your body wrapped around him.
He let you control the pace initially, not wanting to push his luck by totally giving in to his feral desires. It took self-control (and a lot of it) to restrain his hips from moving of their own accord; to stop them pistoning at a monstrous rate. Instead, Eddie used your hips as leverage; guiding you up and down in smooth languid undulations, torturously slow at first, then picking up a little quicker when your face relaxed into the feeling. The record player in the corner rang through the silence, a driving beat that measured Eddie’s tempo, a steady pulse that his hips naturally fell in line with. The texture of vinyl ambrosia to your ears, perhaps even more so than the sound of Eddie’s enjoyment in the moment.
You could feel Eddie’s hips stutter beneath you occasionally, giving away the extent of his desperation for release. You knew he wouldn’t last long, so increased your pace slightly.
“Jesus Christ, I could never get enough of this…don’t stop, please for the love of god, don’t stop…” through ragged breath, Eddie pleaded. Every miniscule movement was heightened, each squeeze and contraction of your body, every deep breath, every ragged moan reverberated through his very soul. He’d never felt anything like it, it wasn’t just the pleasure of fucking, it was something else entirely. It was how thoroughly you gave yourself over to the experience, over to him. It was the way you looked at him, your eyes hazy and heavy yet transfixed by him. In that moment, he was your world, the source of your pleasure and the person cradling you in an entirely vulnerable state. To have so much trust placed in him, to see such beauty unguarded and raw, it touched Eddie more than he ever thought possible, more than any meaningless tryst ever had. To have someone see past his chequered reputation and judge him for his character alone, to put their faith and their body in his hands, there was no intimacy quite as profound. These were the thoughts that pushed Eddie over the edge towards blissful release,these were the thoughts that swirled as his hips rutted uncontrollably upwards, trimmed nails clawing at your skin, sure to leave their mark. Though his mind wasn't so clouded as to chase his pleasure at your expense, so at the last minute, Eddie reached a hand between you, applying pressure just where it was needed and dragging you along with him.
I am so fucking late getting to finally read this (Even if I did have a sneak peak) I wanted to consume it all again and I honestly cannot get over how much you brought Eddie to life.
The tone, the conversation, the goddamn flirting oof.. Chefs kiss 😏 😏
What can I say another piece of amazing work my love and I just am constantly and always will be in awe of the way you write 🖤 🖤 🖤
Author's Note: This idea came to me watching the famous Club Scene in Heated Rivalry and it sort of wrote itself honestly. I'm also kind of in love with how I wrote Regulus and Barty in this fic.
Summary: Remus has spent his entire life believing he is something to endure, not something to love, So when he finally makes a move on the best friend he has been in love with for years he panics, utterly panics and ruins everything. And works very hard at convincing himself (and you) that he doesn't want you. But jealousy always has a way of bringing the truth to light- so when he sees you with somebody else, he just can't bring himself to pretend anymore.
Warnings: Remus has body and scar insecurities
As soon as you’d made it safely inside your apartment you let out a strangled gasp as the tears you had been holding in all night finally burst free.
It was a great ferocious flood of tears and for a moment you struggled to catch your breath.
You could pinpoint the exact moment your heart had broken clean in half in your chest, watching Remus pressing his lips to another woman’s neck on the dancefloor, while she grinded against him, cast in perfect hues of green and purple while the strobe lighting ahead matched the pulse of your racing heart.
The very same Remus Lupin who had pressed his lips to yours not three nights ago.
The very one you had been painfully and insufferably in love with for more years than you could count.
Who had so confidently crossed the threshold of your shared kitchen and pressed his lips to yours and laid you bare and made love to you, only to wake up the next morning to an empty bed and walls higher than the Burj Khalifa around the man you loved.
“We can just pretend it never happened,” he’d said over his coffee cup as if that didn’t fucking kill you.
“Is that what you want?” you’d tried carefully, trying not to sound as pathetic and small as you felt, and he nodded so quickly you wondered how he didn’t get whiplash.
“Yeah I mean..absolutely. We’re such great friends and I would hate for this to get in the way of that.”
“Okay,” you’d said, because that was all you’d been able to make yourself say, and the rest of the morning you’d spent hunched over the toilet bowl throwing up sporadically, happy enough for him to think you’d simply had too much to drink the night before.
But you had managed to do an okay job at pretending this whole thing wasn’t making you want to die, or at least you had been until tonight.
You’d turned up for work every day.
You’d even managed to eat a few bites of dinner yesterday and when you’d agreed to go out tonight you thought at least getting drunk and dancing with your friends might make you forget about him, even for a moment- and for the most part it had worked, until your traitorous eyes sought him out just like they always did.
And of course they’d found him, arms around her, lips attached to her neck, smiling at her like his lips were made just for hers and you just couldn’t do it anymore.
You just couldn’t pretend you were okay anymore when it felt like the whole world was spinning too fast on its axis and you were one misstep away from being sucked out into the void.
Not when for days now you’d been carrying a heartbreak so strong you barely ate a bite, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten a full night’s sleep.
Your sheets still smelled like him and some sick sadistic part of your brain refused to change the bedding, refused to wash the smell of him away in case it was the last time you ever fell asleep to his scent again.
You’d walked home alone, you hadn’t even said goodbye to your friends and here you were heaving giant sobs alone in the entryway of your shared apartment.
And then laughter in the corridor spurred you into action.
Surely not…
Surely he wouldn’t bring her here, to your shared space. The place of cosy fires and old books and board games and coffee and knitted sweaters and the second hand sofa you’d lugged up three flights of stairs laughing endlessly when you’d dropped it on his toe, and the kid on the second floor went around for weeks, repeating the profanities Remus had yelled in that moment.
And quiet nights curled under blankets, hands entwined wondering if finally he would see what had been right in front of his nose all this time.
Surely he wouldn’t…
You just managed to get into your room when the jingle of keys in the front door interrupted the giggling for the briefest of seconds.
“Shh. Shh,” Remus drawled outside your door, “I have a roommate.”
A roommate…
You’d gone from best friend, to lover, to roommate in a mere matter of days.
“Okaaay,” she’d whispered dramatically and then his door across the hall clicked shut and you were bolting out of the apartment before you could even think about what you were doing.
In your haste you remembered that you had left your keys in the little bowl on the cabinet in the entryway and silently cursed yourself for that.
You walked around the city for a few hours, shivering and pulling your coat closer around your body.
You’d eventually stopped crying after what felt like days, too numb to keep it up, and for that at least you were grateful.
Two people spilled out of a nightclub door and nearly knocked you off your feet.
“Watch where you’re going!” one of them snapped and you were apologising before you’d even registered the fact they had been the ones who had knocked into you.
Someone called your name, and when you drew your eyes up you were startled to find you were looking into the slightly concerned eyes of Regulus Black.
“I’m sorry Reg, I didn’t see you both,” you said pitifully and he gently untangled himself from the arms of the man he was with.
“Are you okay?” he tried gently and you really did try your best to smile, you did, but even you knew it wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Why are you out here alone? Where is everyone?” he tried gently and your mouth opened and closed a few times but you honestly couldn’t find the right thing to say.
“Come on Reggie. I’m getting cold,” his companion was demanding, very obviously bored by this whole interaction.
Regulus gave him a look that could cut glass, “This is my friend and she’s very clearly not alright. Could you have some patience?”
“She’s fine, aren’t you?” he demanded and you were nodding quickly, “There she’s fine, lets go!”
“You know what?” Regulus said, sounding bored “I think you should just leave us. Maybe another time..”
“If you do this now, there won’t be another time Reg!” his companion warned, and Regulus shrugged nonchalantly and his companion huffed and stormed off “Nice knowing you Black!” he’d shouted back, and Regulus, unaffected, turned his full attention back to you.
“Shall we get you somewhere warm?” he said gently and you were looking at him in bewilderment.
“Regulus your date..I didn’t mean to ruin your night!” you tried to argue but he was having none of it.
“A) Not a date, I was just bored and B) You matter more to me right now.”
You were sure you looked a mess in your clubbing makeup, tucked into one of Regulus’ oversized, grey cashmere sweaters, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
You were sipping on a hot cup of tea and slowly beginning to thaw out.
Regulus had made grilled sandwiches when you’d got back to his, and you’d pecked at it, a little like a small bird, but couldn’t bring yourself to eat much.
You’d been friends with Regulus before you’d even known Lily, Sirius, Remus, James and Peter.
You’d been in the year below them in school and even though you’d been sorted into their form house, you’d been in Regulus’ year and he’d never been anything but kind to you, even throughout all the Black brothers’ drama, when Sirius was determined to paint him as a villain, even when they weren’t speaking, Regulus had been your friend.
“Is it something to do with Remus?” he said softly and your tired eyes shot to his, and you sniffed gently for a moment before you nodded, just once, briefly and your eyes filled with tears.
“Oh my darling,” he sighed, reaching forward to place his hand on your leg.
“How did you know?” you said softly and he leaned back in his chair again.
“You honestly think I don’t know what unrequited love looks like? I’ve watched you pine after that man for years now and I’ll tell you what I’ve always thought, he doesn’t deserve an ounce of it. You keep leaving yourself on the shelf for him, waiting, hoping, that he’ll pick you up. That he’ll choose you. And I’m not judging- trust me I know this feeling better than anyone.”
“James?” you said softly and he nodded, swirling his glass of whiskey.
“James,” he confirmed.
“How do you do it?” you cried, searching his grey eyes for some answers that could break you out of this perpetual hell you were in.
“You saw my great plan tonight darling. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
“Does it work?” you cried and a tear rolled down your cheek and he reached across and wiped it away.
“Not a bit,” he whispered and pulled you to him, offering you a safe space to fall apart.
Over breakfast the next morning you finally confided to him what had happened, the night in your apartment, what he’d said the next day and bringing back another girl to the apartment last night.
To his credit he didn’t blow up. Didn’t call Remus an array of bad names, and didn’t overly coddle you, instead he looked at you honestly.
“Staying in that apartment is a form of self harm,” he said brutally, and you paused stirring your coffee, “If Remus can’t be a big boy and admit his feelings, or lack there of, then you need to get out of there, look at you love, you can’t even eat, it’s not going to end well.”
“Where would I even go, Reg? I’d be breaking my lease and I wouldn't get my deposit back.”
“Hello? Rude! I’m sitting right here, and who’s very lovely spare room did your arse sleep in last night?”
“I couldn’t!” you argued and he gave you that Regulus look that he gave to anyone he deemed stupid.
“Oh, but you could. And you can. You’re never going to get over him when you literally see him all the time. Come stay with me until you at least get back on your feet.”
As you carried the last of your moving boxes down to your car and came back up to leave your key in the little bowl on that cabinet in the entryway, Remus finally appeared in the kitchen, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.
“I guess this is it then,” he said awkwardly and you smiled a small but genuine smile his way.
“We had some great times here,” you said honestly, determined to at least leave on a good note.
“I- Look, I'm sorry. I know I made things awkward between us,” he said.
“Look,” you said, cutting him off. “I think maybe this is for the best, we couldn’t stay roommates forever could we?” You said the word roommates like it was acid on your tongue.. “And I’m sure a little bit of space between us right now would be a good thing. It’s hard to just forget about that night if we’re seeing each other all the time, at least this way we have a chance at fixing our friendship.”
“Right,” he was blinking rapidly like he was trying to get his brain to catch up with his mouth. “Right,” he said again “Okay. Yeah that makes sense. Very practical. Responsible even,” he shook his head at his own stupidity and lack of vocabulary.
You held the keys out to him and he took them in a state of stunned silence and you smiled genuinely his way.
“Be seeing you,” you smiled and fixed the strap of your bag on your shoulder and turned to leave.
You'd only made it a few steps when you heard his hurried steps behind you.
“Wait. Wait -” he called and when you turned up to face him he froze, nothing came out. No pleas to stay. No grand declarations of love…Nothing.
You steadied yourself with a solemn nod and continued your descent downstairs.
“Goodbye Moonman,” you called and he stood watching your head disappear down the winding steps.
“Fuck,” he cursed when he heard the door to the lobby close behind you, “Fuck,” he said again and a little voice on the landing below started shouting “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” and he ran inside and slammed the door before the lady in number 12 gave him another bollocking for teaching her kid even more swear words.
Regulus became your shoulder to cry on, and you had embarrassingly cried on him more times than you could count on both hands.
He was adamant about not allowing you to wallow in your heartbreak but he was a kind ear and a gentle place to land when the world felt too rough.
And he was respectful in the sense that he never took his conquests home with him, just a cheeky “Dinner's in the oven. Don't wait up,” was enough to let you know you'd have the place to yourself for the evening.
Weeks passed like this and you were beginning to feel like your old self again.
You both took turns cooking dinner and you even slowly began to mingle with some of your old friends, who you had admittedly neglected since you’d moved in with Remus.
A tiny bit of your spark was beginning to come back and you found yourself slowly piecing yourself back to the girl you had been before him.
“B.L”, Regulus affectionately coined it, Before Lupin, and you couldn't help but find the humour in that.
But it was impossible to deny that you were ignoring your friends and Lily was quite literally threatening to kidnap you if you didn't meet her soon. Even Sirius who notoriously hated phone calls had called you.. Called you.. To make sure you were still alive.
You really hadn't meant to punish your friends, it's just wherever they went Remus went too, and you'd somehow convinced yourself if you saw him, it would set back all the hard work you had been doing in trying to get over him.
Meanwhile Remus was falling apart.
He had that constant, overwhelming feeling in his stomach that he’d always had throughout his childhood that he had done something wrong, that there was something inherently wrong and unlovable about him.
A great gangly, scarred and contrary man that not even you could bring yourself to love.
He never checked his phone more, never lay awake as much listening to the quiet sounds of the apartment praying he would hear the jingle of your keys in the door, but they never came.
He didn’t even bother trying to replace you, or find somebody else to take your room, instead it lay empty and waiting for you to come back, just like his heart.
But he was beginning to understand with a sickening finality that maybe this time you were never coming back.
“Please get her to call him, he's a wretch without her,” Sirius had texted Regulus who read the message in a rare moment he had looked away from his work laptop and he sighed, gathering himself before replying “Tell him to be a big boy and call her himself.”
It was Lily's birthday and you absolutely could not refuse her request to come out for drinks, not on her birthday.
Regulus had to work late, it was auditing season at his firm and he had been pulling in a crazy number of hours this week.
“I don't want to go on my own,” you whined dramatically, arm thrown over your eyes and he sighed exasperated.
“Take Barty with you. He'd only jump at the chance to annoy my brother and his stupid friends.”
You sat with that for a moment, finally relenting and once you called him, Regulus was right he was more than happy to accompany you.
“Will you dance with me?” you said loudly over the music and Barty extended his hand in a mock bow and said “M’lady,” before he was pulling you onto the floor, spinning you away and pulling you back again, and you couldn't help it, you were laughing like a child and it felt good to let your hair down a little.
Your friends had not been happy initially when you had turned up with Barty, but you were here, and so they decided to choose their battles.
And you were having fun, truly having fun for the first night out in a long time.
You were merrily drunk and Barty loved to dance as much as you did, he twirled you to him and dipped you low and when he pulled you back up your smile was as bright as the sun.
“She's with Crouch now?” Remus spat bitterly, watching you from his seat, nursing his drink and Sirius bridled beside him.
“Enough with the jealousy and moping, Moons. She looks happy.”
“I'm not jealous!” Remus barked.
“No?” Sirius challenged “Because you were gunning for Reg last month even though you know for a fact he plays for the other team.”
“Yeah not so much that he wouldn't try his luck with her!” Remus muttered sourly.
“Well at least if he did try it with her, he actually did something about his feelings and gave it a shot,” Sirius spat and Remus went stiff.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“You sit and pine and moan and get mad when anybody else shows her the slightest bit of interest but you’ve never actually tried for her Moony,” Sirius deadpanned,
“I did!” Remus cried and then he was spilling his guts about the night he'd finally manned up enough to kiss you, the night you'd slept together and the next morning he'd been freaking out and suggested you just forget the whole thing.
“Did you even give her a chance to speak?” Sirius said, looking at his friend with sympathy written all over his face.
“She agreed to just staying friends, she said okay,” he cried.
“Because you said it first! How in the hell was she supposed to say anything else to that if the first words out of your mouth were, let's just pretend the whole thing never happened?”
Remus' eyes were wide in horror, had he really gotten it so wrong, that you hadn't understood that he was scared out of his mind that you didn't feel the same? That he'd tried to give you a way out, but instead you'd read it as if he didn't feel anything for you?
“Oh Moons,” Sirius deadpanned and Remus turned his frantic eyes to him “That night we were all out, she couldn't get out of here fast enough. And you.. You brought that girl back to your place.”
“No…Sirius. No!” Remus felt like he was going to cry, or throw up- or possibly both at the same time. Definitely both!
“I'm an asshole. A certified, genuine asshole.”
And the worst part about the whole fucking thing was he'd only been with her in the first place to try and get over you.
“Look, you need to tell her the truth,” Sirius prompted “Tell her and put you both out of this misery.”
“But she's here with Crouch,” Remus whined pathetically.
“Moons,” Sirius snapped. “You and I both know that her and Shithead Junior are just friends, man up and go get your girl!”
Remus was on his feet in an instant and they were moving of their own accord.
He made it precisely to the dance floor before his eyes locked with yours.
Your back was pulled flush against Barty’s chest, your hips swaying with his, his hand splayed across your abdomen, pulling you closer and your head was leaned back against his shoulder, if either of you moved just a fraction you could kiss him over your shoulder and it looked like that's where it had been headed before your eyes locked on Remus and your face hardened for a moment.
Crouch leaned forward to whisper something in your ear and the smile was back on your face again and you turned in his arms, allowing him to take your hand and lead you off the floor.
Remus’ stomach dropped painfully and it was only in that moment he realised how much he had truly hurt you. Because if you had felt even a fraction of what he was feeling right now, that night-he must have absolutely broken your heart.
“I'm an asshole,” he spoke aloud to nobody but himself as he watched your retreating form, hand firmly placed in Crouch’s.
You rolled around in the sheets giggling and Barty couldn't help but watch you fondly.
“This was the best idea you've ever had,” you said. You were drunk, curled up in one of his hoodies, your heels abandoned by the door and stuffing your face with chicken nuggets you'd ordered for delivery on Evan’s bed.
“Chicken nuggets in bed is never a bad idea, and the best part is all the crumbs will be on his sheets and I can sleep blissfully and crumb free in mine.”
“You ever gonna tell him you have a thing for him?” you asked kindly.
“If by thing you mean hopelessly and sadly besotted with him since we were 11?”
“Precisely!” you giggled and he couldn't help but laugh along too.
“If you tell anyone I will torture you slowly and painfully..”
You gave him your pinky and he took it in his in a silent promise.
“We kissed last week. Well, we haven't stopped kissing since then really.”
You beamed, jumping up on the bed and Barty laughed bouncing from the movement of your jumping as you squealed in excitement.
As you collapsed down and stole one of his chips he teased, “Are you ever gonna tell Lupin?”
“I tried to,” you said sadly, “We had a thing - a night, a few months ago. We slept together, but he made it abundantly clear the next morning he just sees me as a friend. And that's okay,” you slurred drunkenly “Cause he is beautiful, and smart and funny and I'm - well I'm me. So that's that really.”
Barty flung a nugget at you and it hit you square in the face, you looked at him shocked and he was suddenly very cross and serious.
“You are wonderful. So fucking wonderful. In fact you may have been the only woman to ever turn Reggie’s head when we were kids. You're so funny and beautiful without even trying, and Lupin, well he's a fucking idiot, always has been, but he's an even bigger one to let you go! Why do you even waste your time on him?”
“I love him,” you said simply and then flung the nugget back at Barty “And all the fit men I know are gay and don't fancy me.”
“Sorry about that,” he laughed.
“No you're not,” you threw back.
“No I'm not,” he grinned but pulled you to him anyway.
By the time you got an uber back to your apartment it was just a little after 3am and you were trying to be as quiet as possible, but you had stumbled in the door, knocked a lamp off a side table and fallen down until you'd laughed so much you were in danger of peeing.
But it didn't matter, you hadn't needed to be quiet. There was a little post it note stuck on your water bottle, already lovingly filled and left on the island.
“Gone to blow off a little steam. Emphasis on the blow. Don't wait up and drink all of this before bed xx”
Your heart surged in affection for Regulus and you grasped the bottle pulling it into your room with you, collapsing face down on the mattress, not even bothering to remove your makeup or dress.
Something was irritating you.
Some relentless sound that wouldn't let you stay asleep, and you realised much too late it was someone banging on the door.
“Reggie,” you sighed, covering your head with your pillow “Use your key Reggie,” you cried but the knocking continued.
You dragged yourself out of bed and pulled yourself down the stairs and to the hall, flinging the door open.
“Reggie I swear to god,” you barked but you were met with two amber eyes and a mop of auburn curly hair instead of grey eyes and black hair.
“Remus?” you gasped taking a step back and his frantic eyes raked over your bare legs and Barty’s hoodie still draped loosely over your frame. Your hair was slightly bed tussled but your makeup was still absolutely perfect. You were absolutely perfect.
He was swaying on the spot and using the door frame as a lifeline to hang on to, but his eyes were smouldering with unbridled jealousy.
“Is he here?” he said frantically, eyes searching the scene behind where you were standing, “Crouch, is he here?” His voice was tinged in desperation and wildness. “Love, please?” he begged, and instantly you were furious.
“Don’t call me that!” you snapped and his eyes went wide with hurt, “You don’t get to show up here in the middle of the night after all these months of nothing, and call me that.”
He flinched, like you had actually stuck him, and hell if you had raised your hand he would have let you.
Anything was better than the way you were looking at him right now.
“I know,” he said hoarsely, “You must hate me after that night.”
“Remus,” your voice cracked, despite yourself. “I gave all of myself to you that night. And the next morning you acted like it was nothing. Like it was some mistake we should just erase. As if that didn’t make me want to fucking die.”
He looked stricken at that, mouth opening and closing but no sound came out.
“You made me feel like I meant nothing to you!” you added sadly.
“No,” he rasped, too fast, too raw, “It meant everything to me. You mean everything to me,” he dragged a hand through his already unruly hair, beginning to pace with pent up restless energy.
“After you fell asleep I just..I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept thinking you would wake up and regret it. Regret me. I thought if I gave you an out-”
“An out?” you repeated, incredulously.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he cried, “If you had wanted to pretend that it never happened, I’d let you. I’d swallow it. I would have swallowed all the shame if it meant you didn’t feel trapped to be with someone like me. And when you agreed-”
“You are unbelievable,” you shrieked, releasing a sharp, disbelieving laugh, “You think I agreed because I wanted an out? Remus what was I supposed to do? The first thing you said to me was that we should forget about it. I’d already made enough of a fool of myself without begging you to love me too.”
He felt himself break at this.
“I never wanted you to beg..God..I thought I was protecting you- from being tied down by someone like me.”
He tried to take a step forward but you took one just as quickly backwards, hand raised between you in a silent gesture, don't come any closer.
“I was scared,” he said softly.
And because you were furious-because fury was easier than hurt, you snapped, “What?”
“I was scared,” he rasped more desperately this time, “Scared and stupid. I thought I was alone in my feelings, I thought mine ran deeper than yours,” his jaw tightened and his hands flexed. “I thought you’d wake up and regret ever touching me.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, but he pressed on.
“You..You’ve seen me,” he said like the words physically pained him, “All of me. The scars. I know it’s not pretty,” he said, gesturing to his body. “I kept waiting for you to pull away and when you didn’t I figured you were caught up in the moment of it all. But in the morning, in the light of day- I thought you would be disgusted. I thought you would regret ever letting me touch you.”
“You would really think that of me?” you cried, hurt beyond belief that that could truly be what his opinion of you would be.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he rushed, shaking his head, “But I’ve spent my whole life being something people endure. I couldn’t find it in me to believe that you could actually want me..Not like that.”
His hands flexed again by his sides and he continued.
“And so I thought if I pulled away first. If I created the distance and gave you a way out, it would hurt less. For me. For both of us.”
“Oh yeah?” you cried, hurt now visible across all your features, “And how did that work out for you, Moons?”
The nickname hit him like a blow to the gut and he went still.
“I suppose,” you added, voice laden in betrayal “You were still protecting me when you brought that girl back to our apartment too? When I had to stand there, right across the hall and listen to you be with someone else, a few nights after I gave you all of me.”
All the colour drained from his face now.
“I didn’t-” his voice fractured, and he dragged a hand through his hair, feeling sick with himself. “I didn’t realise that you were home,” he admitted weakly, “But I knew you had seen us at the club and I thought if you saw me with someone else it would make it easier…For you to move on. And for me to get you out of my head.” His laugh was hollow and full of self-disgust, “I didn’t know it at the time but some sick part of me thought if I ruined it enough, closed the door firmly enough, it wouldn’t feel so impossible to let you go.”
Remus wanted to be sick and he was in real danger of throwing up right outside your door as he felt white hot shame coursing through him.
She- Lucille- had been a coward’s attempt to bury his feelings for you, to make him feel anything but the ache he’d had in his chest since he’d finally gotten to be with you after years of longing for you, and then very swiftly lost you.
“I don’t know how I could have been so stupid and cruel,” he said, hanging his head, “Bringing somebody else into our home. I’m ashamed beyond words and I’m more sorry than I can ever say. But I need you to know, as stupid as it was, it was to try and forget about you for just one night. To forget that I had you in my hands for that one beautiful night and I fucked it all up and I truly did not know you were there, but I know..I know that’s irrelevant and that I hurt you.”
He felt like he was drowning, truly- gasping for breath, kind of drowning. He took a step forward tentatively and this time you didn’t stop him.
“I was a fool,” he spat, “A stupid, stubborn fool who couldn’t accept that someone like you- Perfect, like you would want somebody as broken and fucked up as me. And even worse than that I was a coward.”
You still hadn’t softened into the girl he loved yet, you were fierce, jaw set in place defensively and arms wrapped around yourself, in Barty fucking Crouch’s hoodie, and you sniffed and looked away from him.
“How could you truly think those things of me?” you cried, voice trembling, thick with heartbreak and disbelief, “That I could ever be disgusted by you? By your body- your scars? God.. to hear you think that I could hate any part of you when I’ve spent all these years loving you and wanting to be with you more than anything in the world... That you could believe I even had an ounce of capacity to be disgusted by you when you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
Remus went to argue but you cut him off, “You were projecting the worst of yourself onto me! By thinking so little of yourself you wanted me to think it too without even giving me the chance to prove you wrong.”
There truly was nothing he could say to that, because you were right.
Of course you were right.
“I should tell you to go,” you said sadly, “You break my fucking heart and you turn up here tonight finally spilling all of this on me because you saw me with somebody else. You think I don’t know that? You saw me with Barty tonight? That’s what this is.”
Remus took a deliberate step back, his face a mixture of hurt and shame, but he nodded once in confirmation.
He swallowed hard and his voice was low and gravelly, “I know I’ve hurt you beyond repair- and I’ve broken everything between us..God, I should be on my fucking knees,-” before he could even stop himself he sank deliberately to his knees, looking up at you through his lashes and palms upturned as if awaiting your order, and you gasped because he had never willingly submitted himself to anyone like this before.
“I’m more sorry than you can ever know,” he choked out, “For thinking so little of you- of myself. For her. For all of it! And if this is what it takes, I’ll stay here for as long as you want me to. I’ll carry all the guilt on my knees before you if it means you will just look at me again like you used to.”
Tell me the truth, you begged, “Is all of this just because you saw me with Barty tonight? I need you to be honest with me. We can’t move forward without it.”
“Seeing you with him tonight absolutely destroyed me. I was so focused on my own insecurities that I never stopped to think about how any of this felt for you, having been dismissed the morning after we slept together or having to hear me be with her,” he bowed his head in shame. “But seeing you tonight with him- If you felt even a fraction of that heartbreak, I’ll carry that guilt with me for a long time. Forever if you tell me to.”
You looked at him for a long moment, but to him it felt like hours, your expression was unreadable and for the first time in his life he felt the overwhelming urge to beg.
“Please,” he rasped, “Please love. I know I’m a coward who pushes away the things I love when I’m afraid. Because I hate myself more than anyone ever could. I know that I don’t deserve you and I never will. But I’m here. On my knees begging. Even though every part of me is screaming at me to run. I won’t..not this time. I won’t leave again until you tell me to.”
A tear slipped down your cheek and you wiped it away hastily.
“I know I hurt you,” he continued, “The only person who has ever shown me real love, even though I was too blind to see it. Just.. please. Please give me the chance to earn it back and I will never run from it again.”
More tears slipped down your cheeks and it nearly undid him to know he was the cause of them.
“I will never- never hurt you like that again,” he swore, “If you give me another chance, even when I’m terrified. Even when it would be easier to run, I’ll stay and fight for you. I swear.”
Without warning, you threw yourself into his arms. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs but his arms locked around you instantly, holding you so tightly like he was afraid you would disappear.
For a long time, you just let him sway you gently, his fingers brushing loving ministrations through your hair,
When you pulled back to look into his amber eyes, he swallowed thickly.
“I kicked her out the moment I heard the door slam,” he confessed quickly, “I tried to go after you but you were already gone. I never slept with her. I lay awake all night wishing it was you I had come home to instead.”
Your heart pounded so hard in your chest it was almost painful, and you sniffed.
“Nothing happened with me and Barty,” you said softly, “We went back to his place and ate chicken nuggets on Evan’s bed. And laughed about how hopelessly in love we are with our best friends.”
Relief washed over him so visibly you would have laughed under any other circumstances, his hands came up to cradle your face and he leaned his forehead against yours.
“The truth is Remus, no matter how much I tried to lie to myself. No matter how many times I swore I was done with you, I was still hopelessly- pathetically in love with you.” Your voice wavered, heavy with tears, “Please,” you begged “Please don’t break my heart again.”
“Never,” he rushed, “Never, again,” he swore it like it was a vow, something sacred.
“And please,” you begged, “Don’t you dare ever talk about your body- your scars- like they are something shameful. They are not something to be endured. You are not something to be endured, Remus. You are worthy of being loved and worshipped. Every part of you, including your scars.”
“I want you so bad,” he confessed, gripping you tightly, “Let me show you!” he murmured, lifting you effortlessly, your legs wrapped around him as he carried you towards the bedroom.
His hands roamed your body before he paused looking at the material bunched up in his hands like it had personally offended him, Barty’s hoodie, “Get this fucking thing off you,” he growled and even though it was playful jealousy he didn’t even bother to zip down the zipper he simply tore it open, breaking it at the seam, and he pulled it from your body and flung it across the room.
“Remus?” you gasped at his outwardly display of jealousy but you would be a liar if you thought it wasn’t the sexiest thing you had ever seen.
He moaned appreciatively at the sight of your clubbing dress, and his hands were everywhere on you again.
He attached his lips to your neck and sucked at the soft skin there as you arched up into his touch.
You tugged at his sweater and he understood what you wanted, pulling the garment over his own head in haste and you sighed looking at the expanse of his chest, tracing one of his most prominent scars with your lips, as you fumbled with his belt, pulling it free and he eased himself out of his pants, pinning you down again.
“Fuck, this is all I think about,” he confessed, “For years, picturing what you would look like, gasping underneath me as I make you fall apart.”
“You could’ve had it all this time if you weren’t such a giant pratt,” you joked but gasped when he suddenly pulled your dress down, sliding it down your torso and legs, and your underwear was swiftly disposed of by his hands too.
“Fuck,” he mused drinking you in, “Look at you.”
You surged up to kiss him again and he settled between your legs.
“You gonna make it up to me?” you cooed and he smiled devilishly.
“Gonna make you forget everything else except for me and how good I make you feel,” he promised.
And you threw your head back in invitation, and he wasted no time.
He’d already pulled you apart with his fingers twice by the time he eventually slid inside and you grasped his back with your fingers, cementing him in place, as he began to move.
“Darling, why is every single light in the house on?” Regulus’ voice suddenly interrupted and everyone in the room froze.
“Oh god,” he deadpanned. “Oh my fucking eyes! I can never unsee Lupin’s pasty arse as long as I live!” he cried, hands flying up to cover his eyes so nothing else could offend him, “I want to claw my own eyes out,” he fumed, “What did I ever do to deserve this?”
Remus couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him when you hastily gripped for the duvet to cover you both.
“Reg!” you cried clearly mortified and he pointed an accusing finger at you, though his eyes were still clamped shut.
“We will be talking about this in the morning!” he shot and then the same finger was pointed in the general direction of where Remus had been, “As for you Lupin, we will also be having a little talk about how if I ever find her in tears because of you again I will personally chop off your own cock and feed it to you!”
“Both understood and deserved,” Remus said meekly, even if there was a hint of a smile there.
“And for the love of God, you’ve already assaulted my eyes tonight, please leave my ears in peace. I don’t want to hear a peep.”
He turned to face the door, eyes still covered until he knew the coast was clear and he would deny this until the day he died but his voice softened, “Lupin for the love of God, be here in the morning, don't abandon her again,” and with that he disappeared out into the hall and closed your door behind him.
You and Remus waited until you heard his retreating steps before you both erupted into a fit of giggles.
“I'm sorry about Reg. He's sort of taken on the role of my protector lately, he's actually really sweet once you get to know him.”
“I'm glad you've had him,” Remus said honestly, “You deserved somebody in your corner while I was busy being an asshole. I am very, incredibly grateful that he is gay though, I nearly went insane with jealousy when you moved in with him.”
“So now probably isn't a good time to tell you that we were each other's first kiss?” you teased and Remus mock frowned before you countered, “Before he realised he was into men. And I realised I was into Remus Lupins.”
“Since school?” Remus said, eyes wide with shock.
“Since the first day I met you,” you told him honestly, “Remember that Valentine's day in your final year when someone gifted you that leather bound notebook and fountain pen?”
“Everyone thought it was Marlene, but she swore it wasn't?”
“That was me,” you admitted shyly, and he reached for your hand.
“Baby, I was seventeen, you would have been sixteen? All this time?”
“It's okay,” you reassured, hooking your leg over his and climbing on top of him, “You were just busy being an asshole.”
“A fucking oblivious one,” he countered but trailed off because you were positioning yourself on top of him, sinking down and beginning to move your hips and he was gasping up into your mouth.
“We have to be quiet,” you warned, snapping your hips when he gasped again and the only way he trusted himself not to cry out was by capturing your lips with his, so he did.
“Fuck,” he panted, pulling you to lie on his chest and stroking featherlight touches along your bare arms, “How could I have ever convinced myself to walk away from this?” he deadpanned.
“I want to make it very clear,” you whispered against his skin, “I love you. I don't regret this. I don't want a way out and my answer will still be the same in the morning.”
His arms tightened around you as he let your words sink in and truly allowed himself to believe it this time.
“And for the record, I’ve been crazy about you since school too. I was just too chicken to do anything about it," he confessed.
“I may need to move back in with you,” you teased, “I don’t think I can look Reggie in the eye anymore.”
“Come home,” he said simply, squeezing you like that was the most natural thing in the world.“Everything is as you left it. As if I could ever bring myself to replace you.”
Tagging: (Just based on people who have interacted with my previous fics, but please feel free to ignore or ask to be removed)
Summary: Seven years after Voldemort was defeated for good on that faithful Halloween night the Potters were murdered, Sirius Black is declared innocent and reunited with his love Remus Lupin, but what of their other love who has by all means vanished from the wizarding world with her child to live a life of seclusion? Can they forge a peaceful existence from the heartache and betrayal of the past? Or are some hurts too much to heal?
Title Comes From This Song:
Warnings For This Chapter: Brief mentions of child abuse of Harry at the Dursley's hands. Smut- minors dni!
This is a long chapter and realistically probably should have been split in two, I just didn't know quite where to split it so I hope you're okay with this essay instead!
When you put the jeep into park, you were suddenly shaking with nerves and were glued to your seat staring out at the crashing waves behind your tiny cottage.
You hadn’t even registered Remus climbing out, but when your door opened and he reached across to unbuckle you, you were shook from your trance.
“Remember what I said,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Whatever awaits us in there, we face it together.”
“Together,” you confirmed and allowed him to lift you down and kiss you properly.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight you would find inside.
Sirius was sitting up on the sofa head thrown back over the edge with Teddy clutched to his chest, both of them sleeping soundly, looking so at peace it made your chest hurt.
“Perhaps we ought to do this tomorrow,” you suggested hopefully to Remus and he shook his head softly.
“It has to be tonight, my love. I won’t lie to him a second night, he deserves to know.”
He was right. Of course he was right but your heart was beating out of your chest a mile a minute.
Teddy let you untangle him from Sirius’ arms without fuss and you carried him gently up the stairs to his bed while Remus put the groceries away.
You placed a gentle kiss to Teddy’s tiny forehead and hoped someday he could forgive you for all the mistakes you had made along the way.
“It was all for you,” you cried “Everything I did, was all for you.”
Gathering your courage at the top of the stairs, with a solemn nod of your head you descended ready to face the battle that was awaiting you in the Living Room.
Sirius was groggy, but awake, wiping sleep from his eyes and you went to stand beside Remus and he watched you both warily.
“Spit it out,” he snapped irritably, “You’ve both got that look on your face whenever you have to tell me something you know I’m not going to like.”
“I need your word that you’ll hear us out. That you won’t fly off the handle,” Remus said sternly.
“Oh for fuck sake,” he sighed “Teddy is the child here Remus, not me, you don’t get to tell me how to behave.”
You folded your arms around yourself protectively, Remus could see you were bracing yourself and he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.
Sirius’ eyes narrowed in on the movement and for a moment he looked a bit heartbroken.
“Why is it you two can only ever be a united front when it’s to gang up against me?”
“Sirius, that’s not-”
-”Spit it out,” he commanded again over whatever it was you were going to say.
You took a deep breath and readied yourself, “I wanted to be honest with you, to tell you the truth, but I was so scared and I didn’t know if me and Moons were ever going to be okay again -” your huge worried eyes turned to Remus and he read the words you begged him to speak aloud with your eyes and he nodded.
“But Teddy is my son,” he said softly, “She didn’t know until after..after I destroyed everything. She tried to tell me before he was born but I was so off my head on drugs. She had no choice but to do it alone.”
Sirius was quiet for a moment, eyes blown wide in what you couldn’t quite read.. Hurt? Surprise? Betrayal?
“You fucking hypocrite,” he finally spat eyes glassy, “All the shit you gave him for being a coward and you were the biggest of them all!”
This was the reaction you’d expected from Remus. The one you’d prepared for. The one you felt you deserved. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
“How could you keep something like that from him?” he demanded “It’s selfish. And cruel!”
“Sirius, that’s enough!” Remus warned and Sirius laughed pitifully.
“Of course! Of course you’re not mad. Fucking pushover Remus. Nothing ever makes you angry anymore. You should be crawling out of your fucking skin with anger. Instead you're like a kicked dog, rolling over and showing your belly.”
“I am angry,” Remus bit back “For leaving her to deal with this on her fucking own. For being such a monumental mess that when she tried to tell me, I was too off my head to even talk to her. They both deserved better and I am furious… at myself that I didn't give it to them.”
“But she lied to us,” Sirius cried although it looked like the fight was leaving him, “All this time my fucking heart has been broken thinking she found love with someone else, thinking I had no right to be falling in love with her and Teddy because they weren't really mine to love anymore, and all this time, all this fucking time she was keeping that secret?”
It happened in a blur of auburn curls and swiftness that has Sirius yelping and hopping back and forth rubbing his leg.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, frantically rubbing at the spot the kick had landed, and Teddy was standing defensively between you both.
“Teddy… You-You kicked me!” Sirius said in disbelief and Teddy squared his shoulders and stood his ground “You were shouting at my Mum,” he said defiantly.
You surged forward and grasped him by the shoulders “Teddy Lyall, you do not ever attack someone,” you were scolding, fury written all over your face, but Remus started laughing behind you and then Sirius couldn't help the smile that broke out all over his face as he began laughing too.
“He kicked me,” he said again in disbelief through this laughter and you were suddenly scolding them too.
“Stop it. Stop it, both of you. It's not funny. He can't just go around doing that!”
“But he was shouting at you!” Teddy whined, giving you his huge puppy dog eyes, “We don't shout in this house, you always say that!”
“Well we certainly don't hit or kick either, Teddy. I honestly don't know what has gotten into you.”
“I was just trying to protect you Mama..He was shouting at you and you looked sad. I didn't like it, I just wanted to make him stop.”
Suddenly, the room went very still, Remus and Sirius weren't laughing anymore.
“Baby,” you said, dropping down to his level, “Baby, you don't protect me. That's my job. It's my job to protect you, not the other way around.”
He flung himself into your arms and your arms locked around him, hands threading through the curls on the back of his crown, he was crying now and you held him to you.
“I'm sorry Sirius,” he cried into your shoulder.
“No, little man,” Sirius said softly, running his hands through his little curls too. “You were right I shouldn't have been shouting at your Mummy, I would have kicked me too.”
Teddy chuckled a little through his tears and he untangled himself from your arms and flung up into Sirius’ who twirled him around “No more shouting at your Mummy, I promise okay.”
“No more kicking you either,” he promised.
“Okay, how ‘bout I take you back up to bed and you let me, Rems and your Mum talk, and I do mean talk this time.”
“No more shouting?” Teddy confirmed and Sirius nodded seriously, pouting in sincerity, “No more shouting!”
He sat a good half an hour with Teddy, reading to him and promising him over and over again that he would not raise his voice at his mum any more, and his heart had caught in his chest as he thought ‘I want to do better’. For this kid who was the mirror image of the man he loved and the woman who never gave up trying for him, even when it cost her everything.
When sleep finally took over Teddy, he gently untangled himself from Teddy's long limbs, ‘He's going to be tall’, he thought to himself..just like his Father.
Sirius descended down the stairs to see you sitting on the sofa with your head in your hands, Remus was sitting on the arm on the sofa running soothing patterns on your back and Sirius softened at the sight.
His two loves.
“So, I handled that all wrong,” Sirius said softly, leaning down on his hunkers and running his hands over your thighs, when you looked up at him your face was streaked in tears.
“I'm sorry,” you cried and he was shaking his head quickly.
“No…No, love. Do not apologise for doing what you could for that little boy. You were right neither me or Moony were here for you and you did the best you could. And my god what a fucking job you've done I mean look at him, he's.. Well there's no other word for him, he's marvelous. And you did that all on your own. You're not a coward, you're the bravest person I've ever known. And yet again my selfishness has upset you tonight and I promise I will try to do better. I guess I was hurting because all this time I’ve been so angry at Moons for letting you go, thinking he caused you to fall in love with another man and that Teddy should have been his, that I didn’t stop for a second to hear what you were actually telling me.”
You slid off the couch and straight into Sirius’ arms, and he held you, rocking you gently for a moment.
His eyes locked with Remus behind you and the warmth that spread through his chest when he smiled his way made his knees go weak.
He ran his fingers through your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead “And I already loved that boy before you told me but let me tell you, now that I know he is made from half of the people I love the most in the entire world, it makes my heart so fucking full. Everything we went through… If Teddy was what was waiting at the end I'd go through it all again, a million times over just to be a tiny part of your lives.”
Remus handed you a glass of Malbec and broke you off a square of dark chocolate, and passed another glass to Sirius before he returned to the kitchen to grab one for himself.
You were curled up on the sofa leaning into the warmth of Sirius’ side and Remus sat down beside you and pulled your feet onto his lap.
For a moment none of you said anything, until Sirius chucked beside you, which eventually turned into a full stomach laugh and despite not knowing what he was laughing at, you and Remus had joined in, his laughter was so infectious.
“Can you believe he actually kicked me?” Sirius laughed, “There could be no doubt in the world that he’s your boy Remus!”
“It’s really not funny,” you deadpanned but Remus and Sirius were laughing so hard you couldn’t even pretend to be mad about it anymore.
“Come on he was like a mini Moons, with his little shoulders squared, like he was daring me to try it again.”
“He should have kicked you into the head and knocked some sense into it,” Remus laughed and Sirius reached around you to swipe at him, but Remus caught his hand and brought it to his lips instead.
Teddy took in what you had said with an overwhelming sense of nonchalance and you cleared your throat “Teddy do you understand what we’re telling you?” you said cautiously, “Remus..is your dad.”
“Okay,” he said simply, and all three of you stood watching him in bewilderment as he continued pulling on his coat.
“Can we go see Harry now?” he asked as if the news was nothing.
“Ted,” you said exasperated and he finally gave you his full attention.
“Mama, I already knew,” he said honestly and your mouth flew open in surprise.
Remus stared at him wide eyed and shrank down to his hunkers, to Teddy’s height, “You..You knew?”
“Yes,” Teddy said shyly, reaching out to touch Remus’ cheek, “You have the same eyes as me, and the same freckles. And cos your daddy’s name is my middle name I figured it out. I’m really good at figuring things out,” he shrugged.
“Of course you are,” Remus mused, “Because you’re wonderful, and so smart.”
“Darling, why didn’t you say anything?” you cried and he shrugged.
“I was just waiting.”
“For what?” Remus said gently.
“To see if you were going to stay," he said simply.
Remus choked up for a moment and Sirius squeezed his shoulder.
“Are you going to stay?” Teddy said, voice small and unsure.
Remus’ heart broke right open and he had to clutch his chest, this mattered, this moment really mattered.
“If it’s alright with you, I would very much like to stay with you and your mummy. I would love to be a part of your life.”
Teddy smiled huge and bright and leaned in to hug Remus, who froze for a moment before locking his arms around his son.
“I know something else,” he added bravely and turned to face all three of you again.
“I know that you love each other, I know most kids only have a mummy and daddy like Ron, but I would be okay with having a Mum and two daddies, you don’t have to pretend in front of me anymore.”
The three of you were stunned into complete and utter silence, and he was looking at you all shyly.
Until Sirius turned to face Remus and whispered "Definitely your kid!”
“Can we please go see Harry now?” he demanded, and that was that, today’s order of business had been conducted.
Harry, Ron and Teddy were running around the kitchen squealing and Sirius kept waiting for either you or Molly to shout at them.
Children should be seen and not heard, his mother’s horrid voice taunted, but no shout ever came, instead you both sipped on your tea and watched them fondly.
Remus was out in the shed talking with Arthur and Sirius was enjoying the freedom of watching Harry play.
Molly was telling him in hushed tones about the night you had stolen Harry away from Lily’s godawful sister and if he thought he couldn’t have fallen in love with you any more, he'd have been sorely mistaken.
“There were bruises all over his little arms,” Molly said, eyeing the children to make sure none of them were listening, “His glasses were broken and they hadn’t even bothered to replace them.”
“So what did you do?” Sirius asked in shock.
“I picked him up and apparated to the cottage, sent for Molly and Arthur, Alastor, Kingsley and Hagrid. Dumbledore couldn’t argue with all six of us.”
“Although he did try,” Molly added and you agreed, “He did try.”
“He stayed with me and Ted for a while, until we all agreed he would be safer with Molly and Arthur.”
“And he’s the happiest little boy,” Molly beamed and you couldn’t help but agree, his cheeks were glowing and he looked well fed, not the skeletal, frightened, pale little boy you had snatched away in the night.
You were helping Molly peel vegetables for dinner when laughter from outside pulled you both to peer out the kitchen window.
Harry, Ron, Teddy and the Twins were chasing a great shaggy black dog around the corn field out the back, Remus and Arthur were taking turns throwing sticks that he would catch and return to them.
“Padfoot!” Harry would squeal every time he stopped to place slobbery licks all over his little face.
Remus stopped laughing at the tiny tug at his side and leaned down to listen to what Teddy was trying to say.
“I said can you turn into an animal too?”
Remus swallowed, his heart was beating a million miles out of his chest.
Would Teddy be scared of him?
Would he hate him?
The thought alone made the blood run cold in his veins, he didn’t want his little boy to be plagued at night by visions of his Father turning into a monster that would kill him in his own bed if given the chance.
It didn’t help that Teddy wasn’t too far off the age he had been when he was bitten.
He was sweating- bordering on a panic attack and Teddy was still staring at him with those huge eyes and he couldn’t lie to him.
“I’m not like Sirius,” he said finally, “I can’t turn whenever I want to. But every full moon I turn into something a bit scary, something I wish I didn’t turn into-”
-"A werewolf?” Teddy gasped and once again Remus had to shake his head in bewilderment at the intelligence of this kid.
“Does that scare you Ted?” His voice wobbled and he hated it.
Teddy was silent for a moment before he asked “Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” Remus said honestly.
“And somebody bit you?”
“Yes,” Remus said again, swallowing thickly.
“Was that very scary?”
“Yes,” Remus repeated because he wasn't capable of forming any other coherent sentence, and goddamn it where were you because he was absolutely spiralling out here.
“I’m not scared,” Teddy said then, bravely setting his jaw.
“It’s okay if you are Ted,” Remus told him honestly, “It is a scary thing. But once the full moon goes I am myself again and I would never hurt you.”
“Is that why Mummy and Sirius call you Moony?”
“Yes,” Remus laughed, and Teddy considered him for a moment.
“I’m not scared,” he repeated, “But maybe I don’t want to see the wolf.”
Remus laughed again at that, “Well how about this, how about I go away the night of the full moon so you don’t see the wolf?" It was always Remus’ plan to aparate away into the Highlands the night of every full moon but for now he was happy to make Teddy think it was simply because he didn’t want to see the wolf- and not because it-he was a blood thirsty beast.
“And in the morning when you are dad again we can have Moony toast and tea and we can read my books together on the couch.”
Remus wanted to cry, at Teddy’s kindness and willingness to accept him completely, and because it was the first time he had called him dad.
Padfoot nudged his hand out of nowhere wanting scratches and he was glad of the feel of his shaggy fur to ground him because he felt like he was drowning.
Dinner was a perfectly noisy affair, and little Ginny had crawled up into your lap midway through dessert and fallen asleep.
“I’m her favourite Aunt,” you had boasted with pride and Arthur had smiled at you fondly.
“And ours,” the Twins said in unison.
“Bill has a crush on you,” Charlie said cheekily and Bill went beetroot red and flicked Charlie in the ear violently, “I don’t!” he mumbled but was resolutely refusing to meet your eye.
Bill was 17 and was fit to finish Hogwarts in the Summer and Charlie loved nothing more than to embarrass his brother.
“At least I don’t fancy dragons,” he shot back and Charlie thumped him before Arthur cut them off with a warning.
“It’s alright,” Sirius whispered to Bill mischievously, “I fancy her too.”
“So what is the story there?” Molly asked after you had come down from putting Ginny to bed.
Something defensive or frightened must have crossed your face because she was reaching out for you and squeezing your arm, “Darling, I am not judging you at all. God knows after everything you’ve all been through you deserve a bit of happiness.”
“We are figuring it out,” you said honestly, “But we are.. Together.”
“Does Teddy know?” Molly asked, still kindly.
You nodded, “Apparently he’s fine with having two dads,” you were laughing but realisation dawned on you too late when Molly’s face pulled into a slightly confused frown.
“Molly,” you rushed in speed to try and explain yourself but she laughed like suddenly everything made sense.
“He looks just like his dad,” she said knowingly and that was that.
The December full moon was two days before Christmas.
The fire was lighting and all the fairy lights in your cottage were twinkling, presents already stocked under the tree that Sirius and Teddy had lovingly decorated.
Remus had lifted Teddy up to put the topper on the tree, it was a Moon and Star that you had spotted in the local Garden Centre and nearly cried when you’d brought it home and seen Remus and Sirius’ reaction.
You and Teddy had gotten up early, he’d insisted you wake him up as early as possible so he could be ready for Remus and Sirius to return, dawn was barely breaking and you’d lit the stove in the Living Room.
“He might want to go straight to bed Teds,” you’d warned him but he was adamant to be awake when his dad got home.
And sure enough once you spotted the two tiny dots in the distance on the beach, Teddy was about to take off running.
“Wait! Remember what we talked about. He might be in pain, you have to be gentle with him. Let him come to you!”
“Okay,” he said and stood by your side waiting for them both to come inside.
“Dad! Dad!” he burst out when Remus came in looking pale and tired but thankfully in better shape than usual, no new scratches or wounds.
“Teds,” he grinned and leaned down to accept him gently into his arms.
“Dad, are you okay? Does it hurt? Was it scary?”
“Teddy,” you warned and he stopped his questions, instead he said simply “I knew you would come home.”
“Always. I will always come home to you.”
As much as you’d tried to convince Teddy to give Remus some breathing room, you’d found him sprawled out on top of Remus’ chest from where he was lying on the sofa in front of the fire.
Sirius had wisely chosen to go up to bed to catch some sleep.
You decided to leave the boys sleeping on the couch and made your way upstairs to try and catch an hour or two of sleep yourself.
As you padded by the spare room you heard Sirius call your name and you opened the door to see if he was okay.
As soon as you stepped into the room, he was holding the duvet open inviting you to crawl into bed with him, and you gladly accepted the offer sliding into the warmth of his naked torso.
“Gods, I missed this. Missed you,” he mumbled into your neck from his position, spooning you from behind and squeezing you gently.
“You don’t know how many nights in Azkaban I dreamed of you. Dreamed I was holding you instead of in that fucking god awful place. You always gave me hope, even on my darkest of days.”
You turned in his arms and looked into his eyes, tracing your fingers along the tattoos that adorned his body, he was thinner, that was for sure but finally the colour was seeping back into his skin and there was light in his eyes again.
He looked up at you through his long lashes and your breath hitched.
Emboldened by the reaction he was having on you he pressed his lips to yours and you moulded your body into his.
He trailed his hands down your sides and pulled one of your legs over his own, as he kissed you deeper.
“You have entirely too much clothes on love,” he said seductively and heat flushed in your stomach as his hands slid under your shirt to push the cloth over your head, without meaning to your hands grasped his to stop his efforts and his eyes flashed to yours in a look of horror, like he was afraid he’d pushed you too hard.
You lay on your back, and swallowed thickly and he propped himself up on his side to look at you.
“Sirius,” you swallowed, “You’re so beautiful, you’ve always been beautiful, even Azkaban couldn’t take that away from you. But I- I’m not the same girl I was back then. My body has changed, I mean I had Teddy and all those years of grief,” you felt such shame and embarrassment as you said “You might not like what you see anymore.”
Sirius was silent for a moment, his hands moved to hook under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet his.
“I want you to listen to me,” he said softly, “You are and always will be the most beautiful woman in the world to me. There is nothing, nothing about your body I'm not attracted to.”
He didn't even give you a chance to argue against him, instead his lips were upon yours in an instant and this time you found you didn't want to argue, you wanted him so badly, the stupid voice in your head be damned.
He ran his hands deliberately over the skin of your stomach and when you tried to look away again he hooked his finger under your chin to look into your eyes.
“Don't hide yourself from me love, I want to see all of you,” he commanded and then his lips were trailing from your collar bones, between the column of your breasts and down to your stomach before he hooked his finger into the waistband of your leggings and slid them down your legs.
“You have no idea,” he said breathlessly “No idea how much I've thought about this. Doing this, with you again. Wanted to do it from the first moment I saw you on the beach. Let me show you how crazy I still am for you.”
“Sirius,” you panted but he had dived beneath the covers to slide your underwear down and then his mouth was on your skin again and you couldn't think anymore, hands flying down to tangle in his mop of soft, black curls, and he hummed in appreciation, and you knew what he wanted you to do, tug harder, so you did, while he lapped and sucked and brought you closer and closer to release.
You came with a broken cry and he climbed up your body with a triumphant grin and kissed you again, even though you were seeing stars and your whole body felt limp.
“I'm not done with you,” he teased, and you ran your hands along the plains of his abdomen. He was and always would be, the most beautiful man you had ever seen.
A sliver of light in the room caught both of your attention to where Remus had slid in and even though he was pale and exhausted looking, his face was pure adoration and hunger.
“Don't stop,” he said breathlessly, and then Sirius beckoned for him to come over and they were kissing hungrily above you and your heart was racing a million miles a minute.
“Kiss her,” Sirius commanded and suddenly Remus’ lips were on yours, long fingers ghosting down your sides and you felt the goosebumps rise on your skin.
This is how it had always been, Sirius was the puppeteer pulling the strings and commanding you and Remus and both of you were always more than willing to oblige.
“Remus. Remus,” you gasped against his lips, “You need rest. You haven’t slept properly.”
“I’m not tired,” he drawled against your jaw, “Never too tired for this.”
You hooked your leg around his waist and flipped him over so you were on top.
“Let us do all the work then,” you commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Sirius’ mouth ran dry but he was agreeing quickly with a thick swallow, “A wonderful idea darling,” he agreed, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“Lie back love,” he commanded Remus, “Let us look after you.”
Remus wasn't sure if he’d died last night and gone to heaven under the full moon, or just how exactly he had ended up in this position, but he was not one to look two gift horses in the mouth.
His hands had fumbled and grasped at bare skin,but now they were held tight above his head in those beautiful, delicate hands of Sirius.
He could have easily broken free of his grasp, but why on earth would he have possibly wanted to when Sirius was sucking bruises into his neck and your lips were around his cock- he was exactly where he wanted to be.
When you finally sank down on top of him, his eyes had rolled back in his head and he’d begged, begged Sirius to release his arms so he could touch you.
“Do you think he’s earned it?” Sirius asked you cockily and fuck you didn’t care if he had or not, you just wanted his hands on you.
“You see that love?” he teased Remus, “She wants your hands all over her. Who am I to refuse?”
Remus had burst free of Sirius’ grasp and sat up, hands clasping painfully on your hips as he guided your pace, and you turned your hands on Sirius’ grasping him and working him as quick as Remus was fucking you.
All his cockiness evaporated as he panted in your hands.
“Fuck I’m not gonna last long,” Remus gasped and just before he came he pulled out and Sirius eased himself inside, picking up the pace Remus had started and soon enough that familiar feeling of knotting started in your stomach and you were crying out as you came apart and Sirius followed soon after.
You felt like you were made of jelly. Entirely boneless, as Sirius settled you down against Remus’ chest.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he laughed breathlessly, looking down at you both, and Remus smiled lazily up at him.
“That’s what I’ve been missing all this time?” he mused, “Even my most vivid Azkaban dreams, and trust me they were vivid, could not live up to whatever the fuck that just was.”
You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply snuggled tighter into Remus’ side.
“Come lay down love,” Remus said gently to Sirius but he was pulling his boxers on and disappearing into the bathroom wordlessly, cleaning you both up with a warm washcloth before he finally settled down behind you and encased you between the two of them.
“This works doesn’t it?” you said sleepily, and Remus tilted his head down to look at you lying on his chest.
“The three of us,” you mused, “It just works?”
“It works love,” he reassured and Sirius squeezed you in confirmation.
“Teddy loves you both,” you said as sleep was finally beginning to win out, “And that’s good, because I love you too.”
You were out for the count before either of them could respond, but Sirius grasped Remus’ hand in his.
18 Months Later...
“How are my girls?” Sirius’ gentle voice pulled you from your sleep deprived state, as Stiorra nursed happily from her bottle.
It was Harry’s birthday and the Burrow was full of children whizzing around laughing loudly and you smiled contentedly.
“We’re okay love,” you affirmed and he ran a gentle finger along his daughter’s cheek, and instantly her chubby fingers were reaching for him.
“I can take her for a bit,” he said softly, already reaching for her and she happily went to him.
“Go find Remus and have him grab you a plate of food, you look exhausted.”
You rose wearily from your seat and Sirius took it, settling Stiorra against his chest and allowing her to return to her bottle.
Her head was already full of black ringlets and you sighed.
You had carried both of your children and gone through all the pains of labour, only for both of them to come out mirror images of their dads.
“Come on love,” Remus' gentle voice called out to you, “Let’s get some food into you.”
You were half asleep eating your food but you had never felt more at peace, or content in your entire life.
Teddy was suddenly by your side and he lingered for a moment before he placed a tiny bundle of wild flowers in your lap, he’d evidently plucked them from the fields around the Burrow and you smiled gratefully at him.
“They’re beautiful Ted,” you told him honestly, holding the little bouquet in your hands and smelling them, revelling in the woody scent of wildflowers.
“You’re beautiful Mama,” he said with a little blush to his cheeks, and then he was gone again, chasing after Harry and Ron.
“That’s my boy,” Remus said fondly, eyes following him for the longest time, before his amber eyes landed on yours and you noted fondly the tears gathering there.
And for possibly the thousandth time since both Sirius and Remus had turned up on the beach outside your little cottage on a cold winter's morning you thought to yourself “I can’t believe this is my life.”
Fin:
Tagging: (Just based on people who have interacted with my previous fics, but please feel free to ignore or ask to be removed)
Summary: Seven years after Voldemort was defeated for good on that faithful Halloween night the Potters were murdered, Sirius Black is declared innocent and reunited with his love Remus Lupin, but what of their other love who has by all means vanished from the wizarding world with her child to live a life of seclusion? Can they forge a peaceful existence from the heartache and betrayal of the past? Or are some hurts too much to heal?
Title Comes From This Song:
Remus didn't sleep a wink that night. He tossed and turned while Sirius snored softly beside him.
“I showed him Regulus’ star,” he'd murmured into the dark long after Remus had thought he was already asleep, “He was so excited and, fuck-it felt so good to have him be remembered by someone as incredible as Teddy. He says he'll talk to him for me, tell him that I miss him.” Sirius had choked up at this. “Fuck,” he choked out a sob “James would have absolutely loved him. I'm so mad at you Moons and I know -it's not your fault but I can't help it. Every time I look at him- That should be our little family. I would have doted on him, I would have adored him. I’m falling in love with him and he’s not even ours to love. And she's had to do it all on her own all this time. We should have been there. You should have been there."
“Sirius-” Remus found himself wanting to confide in Sirius what he had discovered on the beach that night but he had gotten so many things wrong with you, and Teddy, up to this point he wanted to at least do something right and not jump the gun on this. He wanted to give you the dignity of talking to you about it first.
“Sirius,” he’d sighed again and Sirius huffed and turned away from him, he was crying and he didn't want Remus to see him crying.
“Forget it.”
And so he'd laid in silence for hours with Sirius turned away from him and a huge weight burning in his chest.
His mind was running through a million things a minute, but the overwhelming feeling that settled in his chest was guilt.
Guilt that he had left you to face it all alone. Guilt that you clearly felt so utterly abandoned by him that you couldn't even come to him about it and guilt because in his heart of hearts he could admit to himself that it wouldn't have changed a thing even if you did, he sincerely doubted he would have been capable of stepping up to to the mark and the result would have been precisely the same, you on your own raising Teddy without him…
And guilt that despite everything he had done to you, the multiple ways he'd hurt and abandoned you, you'd honoured him by giving Teddy his father's middle name, like a tiny door you'd left open for him if he'd only had the balls to come knocking.
And perhaps worst of all, was that Teddy had come out a mirror image of him, his eyes, his curls and the same smattering of tiny freckles over his tiny cheeks, so every time you looked at him you were reminded of the man who had smashed your heart to smithereens and left you to pick up all the pieces alone.
Your voice from yesterday hit him like a punch in the chest now, “He looks like you, I know. It stops my heart in my chest sometimes.”
God, what a mess he had made of absolutely everything…
After long having given up on sleep Remus rose and dressed, he left Sirius a curled up pile of messy curls sleeping in the bed.
He’d placed a long, slow kiss upon his cheek and whispered “I love you, even when you’re mad at me, I love you.”
Sirius had shuffled slightly in his sleep but he didn’t wake, and Remus made his way downstairs.
He thought about flicking on the kettle, thought about lighting the little stove in the Living Room so everyone would wake up to warmth, dawn was just breaking and it was already freezing cold.
But the waves were crashing on the shore in ferocious reams of angry white and Remus, despite his need for warmth, found himself venturing out and gravitating towards them.
He realised with a start after he’d been standing on the beach staring out at the stormy sea for longer than he’d care to admit that his cheeks were wet, and fuck he couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. Truly cried.
Not since perhaps the days after he’d broken your heart, when he’d cried himself utterly raw for days, cried himself empty until he simply could not cry anymore, and then he’d locked away part of himself for what he thought would be forever. He’d drank and fucked, and let himself be fucked raw, until he admittedly felt nothing at all, perhaps for years.
And here he was, great hot tears rolling down his cheeks, unlocking all the softest parts of himself that he thought he had gutted from the inside out.
He had a son, a tiny little version of himself born from the only woman he had ever truly loved, and the only man he had ever loved was devastated at the thought that he wasn’t allowed to love him.
How had he managed to fuck everything up so badly?
He startled at the little warm hand that slid into his and through the blur of tears he spotted the mass of unruly auburn curls and those little dinosaur pyjamas, and perhaps most heartbreakingly of all was the worry laced in Teddy’s huge honey eyes, his own eyes reflected back at him.
“Don’t cry Remus,” he said, voice heavy with sleep and sadness, “Whatever it is we will figure it out together, that’s what Mummy always says and it makes me feel better. And my Mummy will look after you, and Sirius and me will help,” Teddy swayed their joint hands and smiled up at Remus reassuringly “Together.”
“Oh Teddy,” Remus couldn’t help himself sobbing, swooping down to pull the little boy, his little boy to him in a bone crushing hug.
Sirius padded down the stairs to the sound of a record crackling in the corner, the stove was lighting and Remus and Teddy were dancing around the coffee table in their socks and for a moment he allowed himself the luxury of just watching fondly before Teddy spotted him and launched himself at him and he scooped him up into his arms, spinning him across the floor and dipping him upside down repeatedly, much to Teddy’s delight who giggled loudly every time.
“I’m sorry I was an ass,” Sirius said to Remus and Teddy who was dangling upside down repeated the word ass cheekily through giggles, and Sirius dangled him upside down again, shaking him lightly “Do not repeat that or your mother will kill me.”
Teddy thought for a moment and then said “Mummy only gets mad at Remus, she never gets mad at you!”
“Aint that the truth,” Remus quirked an eyebrow and Sirius smirked cheekily.
“It’s my devilishly handsome good looks,” Sirius shrugged.
“Well I can’t deny that,” Remus smiled fondly and just like that their argument the night before was forgotten.
Once it was established that you and Remus would head into town to get groceries and some of Sirius’ list, you began loading up the car with reusable shopping bags and Remus went to fetch a warmer jumper.
“You ready to go Teddy bear,” you called and from where he was stood beside Sirius who had turned down the invitation of a trip into town because he wasn’t quite ready for crowds yet, he almost looked shy.
“I want to stay with Sirius,” he admitted and you looked between them both.
“Honey, I think you should give Sirius some alone time,” you chided and he shook his head ferociously, curls swaying back and forward with the movement, “No, I want to stay with him,” he was adamant and for a moment you considered telling him off but Sirius’ warm voice cut across, “Actually I would love for you to stay with me Teddy. After all, I can't do any work without my best assistant, can I?”
“Nope,” Teddy agreed, popping the p and you gave Sirius a look that said ‘Are you sure?’ and the smile he sent your way told you everything you needed to know.
And so you and Remus clambered into your Land Rover and watched your two loves wave you off from the doorstep.
“There's a really cute little bookshop we could take a look in if you'd like,” you offered and by way of answering Remus simply grabbed your hand from the gear stick and brought it to his lips to kiss the soft skin of your knuckles, and he delighted in the soft flourish of colour that dusted your cheeks.
“Then if you don't mind there's somewhere I'd like to take you.”
“I'm in no rush love,” he mused “Our boys seem perfectly fine without us, so the day is ours to make the most of.”
You wandered arm in arm around the little bookshop with a takeaway coffee in hand and Remus kept pressing little kisses to your face when you weren't expecting them, it felt like it had before, back when things were good, back when you both spent lazy Saturday mornings wandering around the market on the Portobello Road in Notting Hill while Sirius slept off a hangover, or on the very rare occasion he joined he insisted on buying you anything your hand landed on, just because you were young and in love, just because he could.
Remus was flipping through a leather bound version of the Picture of Dorian Gray and you watched as his long slender fingers slid down the spine and for a moment your mouth went dry.
“Does Teddy like to read?” he asked suddenly and you were immediately shaken from your impure thoughts.
“Yes,” you replied “So much so the only way I can effectively punish him when he misbehaves is to threaten to take his books away, not his toys mind you, his books.”
Remus looked wistfully at the book in his hand but didn't say anything further.
You laughed and for a moment his honey eyes met yours in question “I had been reading fairytails to him at bedtime but do you know what he insisted I read to him instead? The Lord of the Rings trilogy, he's six!” you exclaimed and Remus couldn't help the flush of warmth that raced through his chest.
That's my boy.
After the groceries were bagged and placed in the boot, and a serious dent had been made in Sirius’ motorbike repair list you asked Remus if you could take him to the place you wanted to show him and he replied “Of course,”
You drove for about 15 minutes in silence and the air was charged with something Remus couldn't quite put his finger on as you drove further and further up the cliffs before pulling onto a little dirt road that led up to the headland where the lighthouse you could see from your cottage was located.
For a few moments you both sat in silence, dusk was rolling in along with a fog rolling in from the sea, the beam from the lighthouse sweeping across the wide expanse of ocean and crashing waves, lighting the car each time it turned towards you, and casting shadows every time it returned to the sea.
“This place is beautiful in the summer,” you finally said, breaking the silence and Remus turned to face you in the car, “I guess what I'm asking is will you still be around in the summer to see it?”
He considered you for a moment before he found the right thing to say “I would like to be,” he admitted softly “In fact I'd like to never be parted from you again for as long as you will have me.”
“Remus,” you cried tears rushing to your eyes, “There's something I need to tell you. Something so awful I don't think you'll ever be able to forgive me and the reason I brought you with me today is because I just wanted to have one last nice day with you before it's all ruined again, and this time it's all my fault.”
He said your name so softly it physically hurt because you knew once you told him what you were about to tell him he would never speak to you like that again, and you hated that you were crying but your time was up and it was time to tell him the truth. He deserved to know.
“Teddy,” you began and then choked on a sob “Teddy is yours.”
“I know. Sweetheart, I know.”
You looked at him in utter bewilderment as he reached for your hand and took it in his own larger one, “You know?” you stuttered.
“I think if I'm honest with myself I've known from the moment I saw him. But last night-fuck darling you gave him my Father's name-” he trailed off voice catching, tears collecting in his own eyes.
You were silent for a long moment, frantic eyes flicking between his face where you had expected to see fury and your hand still held in his.
“I wanted him to have a piece of you,” you finally admitted “Something that belonged to you. Something he could carry with him to know where he came from. Even.. Fuck- Even if he never got the chance to know you, he would always have a piece of you with him.”
“It's more than I deserved,” Remus cried, you went to shake your head but his gentle eyes stopped you in your tracks.
“I made a mess of everything. I left you to face everything on your own. I was a mess, a failure, I wasn't someone you could even trust back then. Even if you had told me I don't think I would have been able to step up to the mark, I would've run. Too scared. Too fucked up to have been brave enough to stand by your side through it. And I know I hurt you so fucking badly and still, still you did that for me.”
“I did come to tell you,” you confessed. “We came by the flat to tell you just before he was born but.. Some other guy answered the door half dressed and very clearly strung out on something, and told me you were too fucked up to talk at the moment, and I know it was the wrong decision because I still loved you, but you have to understand I loved Teddy more, and I couldn't have him around that.”
“It wasn't the wrong decision my darling girl,” he shocked you by admitting, “It was the only decision you could make in the shit storm I left you in. Not one part of me is angry with you darling. I'm angry with myself for letting you both down. For missing all the milestones, for allowing you to go through it all alone but not at you–never at you!”
The lighthouse kept turning, sending its light out towards the vast darkness of the stormy sea, and Remus couldn't help but warm at the thought that its beam lit the way to the sanctuary of your little cottage where at the moment your little boy was under the watchful eye of the man you both loved more than anything in the world. The very man who had cried himself to sleep the night before because he had fallen in love with Teddy and it was breaking his heart.
He ran his thumb across your knuckles before he brought your hand to his lips and placed a delicate kiss to your skin and the tears in your eyes glistened in the dark.
“You did the best thing you could with the circumstances you had. You did the bravest thing, and I could never, never hate you for that. You built him a safe home. A safe life. You raised him to be the beautiful, kind, intelligent boy that he is and I don't want to ever take that away from you. But I would like to be there for you now- both of you- if there is space for me in your lives.”
“I always saved a space for you, I never lost hope that one day you would find your way back to us, and I have to be honest he's always known that Edward wasn't his Father, we never lied to him about that, we didn't want to dishonour either of you that way.”
“I'll be eternally grateful that you had him love,” he said and you searched his face but found no dishonesty or malice there.
“Moons I need you to know that while I loved Edward wholeheartedly, he looked after me like nobody had before, and he was the best dad to Teddy, it wasn't like that with us. I loved him in every single sense, except romantically.”
Remus quirked his eyebrow so you continued even though your voice was shaking.
“Edward was a fisherman and here in this tiny village, and in his line of work it wasn't always necessarily..safe.. to be who he truly was. He'd always wanted to be a dad and I guess he felt safe enough with me to confide about who he really was, so we agreed to anyone else it concerned, we were a couple and Teddy was ours, but to us we were just life partners, there was never anything between us aside from that.”
You were crying again and Remus squeezed your hand tighter, “And I know I should have been honest with Sirius about that, I know it’s a sore spot for him and it breaks his heart to think I moved on from you both, but it’s only been a few days and I wasn’t sure if things could ever be okay with me and you again. I was scared. So scared.”
“You don’t have to be scared anymore my love. Whatever comes, however Sirius reacts, we will face it together.”
“He’s going to be so angry. I lied to both of you.”
“We face it together,” Remus said with a tone of finality and you trusted him.
“What happened to Edward?” he said after a few moments of silence, pulling you from your worry.
“There was a horrific storm, all the electricity was blown out in the village for days and their boat got blown into the rocks out there on the headland. None of the crew survived. Teddy was three, and I was alone again. I’ve been on my own ever since- until you both turned up.”
“You’ll never be alone again,” Remus promised.
“Please Rem, please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Remus' heart ached at the sorrow in your voice, the desperation you so rarely showed, the rawness, the vulnerability.
He knew now that words, no matter how much he meant them, no matter how much he would tear his chest open and let himself bleed for you, they would not be enough to prove how much he meant it when he said he would never leave you again.
So he reached across the distance between you and grasped your face in his hands and kissed you, slowly, tenderly, hoping that he could pour every ounce of promise and devotion into your lips.
I’m not going anywhere.
Never going anywhere ever again.
It was awkward in such a tight space but you were unbuckling your belt and climbing across the space between you until you were settled on his lap, his long legs encased in your soft thighs and his hands were on them before he could even process what he was doing.
His lips were back on yours as soon as was physically possible, his hands moving to your hips to grip you in place as he trailed his lips along the column of your neck, and delighted at your little gasps.
“My darling,” he mumbled against your skin “I’m never leaving you again.”
“Remus please,” you were begging and he attached his lips to the skin of your neck again, hands snaking up to gather your hair and pulling slightly to expose more of your skin to him, and biting gently at the skin and you opened up like putty in his hands with a little gasp.
Emboldened by the effect he was having on you, his hands slid down to the waistband of your jeans and popped them open, sliding the zipper down slowly, giving you enough time to put a stop to this or halt his movements but he found no resistance there.
He slipped his hand inside and his long fingers made quick work of pulling you apart, and he nearly halted when in a quick flurry your own hands found the button of his corduroy pants and popped it open, your own hands making quick work of him too.
He was gasping open mouthed against your skin as you brought him closer and closer to his climax, his fingers matching your pace before he quickly pulled out and commanded you to climb into the back seat.
In a flurry of impatience clothes were discarded of, and you were lying across the back seat of your jeep and Remus had settled in between your legs, covering your body with the weight of his own.
“Fuck, love,” he stuttered as he slid inside and stilled all actions for a moment, trying to compose himself, until slowly he began to move and in that moment you couldn’t focus on anything except the feel of him inside, the years of wanting and missing, dissipated with each thrust of his hips.
The windows were beginning to fog up and the lighthouse still spun around as you cried out and he swallowed down your cries with his mouth over yours but he did not relent until he pushed you over the edge, his name wrangled from your lips and he collapsed a panting weight on top of you after he reached his own climax.
For a long time you lay there, encased in each other’s arms, watching the beam from the lighthouse turn round and round and feeling the weight of Remus on top of your and all around you.
When he finally looked into your eyes he was shier, less certain of himself than he’d been moments before, “I love you. Thank you for telling me about Teddy. I love you.”
“I love you too,” you admitted, gently smoothing the soft curls from his face.
“Sirus-” you began and he cut you off with a gentle kiss to your lips.
“Together... We face him together.”
Tagging: (Just based on people who have interacted with my previous fics, but please feel free to ignore or ask to be removed)
Summary: Seven years after Voldemort was defeated for good on that faithful Halloween night the Potters were murdered, Sirius Black is declared innocent and reunited with his love Remus Lupin, but what of their other love who has by all means vanished from the wizarding world with her child to live a life of seclusion? Can they forge a peaceful existence from the heartache and betrayal of the past? Or are some hurts too much to heal?
Summary: Seven years after Voldemort was defeated for good on that faithful Halloween night the Potters were murdered, Sirius Black is declared innocent and reunited with his love Remus Lupin, but what of their other love who has by all means vanished from the wizarding world with her child to live a life of seclusion? Can they forge a peaceful existence from the heartache and betrayal of the past? Or are some hurts too much to heal?
Sirius found you on the beach the next morning, staring out at the waves again and unable to read your facial expression.
“I’m sorry about last night,” you eventually murmured, unable to meet his eye and he moved to stand beside you, shoulder to shoulder.
“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I pushed too hard.”
“And I pushed Remus too hard. I did and I knew I was doing it I just didn’t know how to stop, I guess if I did it would have meant accepting that you were gone, really gone, and it was easier with everyone else but you were still out there, and I didn’t know how to go about grieving you when you were still alive.”
“I’m here now, love. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m here now.”
That was all it took for you to bridge the distance and be pulled into his familiar embrace, he brushed his nose along your skin until you were nose to nose and then his lips were on yours and you were kissing, soft and sweet and gentle with the sound of crashing waves in the background.
When you gently pulled away he was looking down at you gently, “Can you forgive me? For not telling you about the Fidelius Charm? For planting doubt in your mind that Remus was the traitor? For confronting Peter without telling you first, and most of all for leaving you?”
“I’d forgive it a thousand times just to have you back,” you replied honestly.
“Do you think you can forgive Moons?” he asked softly and you trembled slightly in his arms.
“I don’t know. Do you think he can forgive me?”
Sirius considered you for a moment and then mirrored your earlier sentiments “I think,” he smiled softly, “He’d forgive it a thousand times if it meant he had you back.”
You kissed him once more for good measure and let him take your hand in his and fell into a gentle pace beside him.
You walked the beach hand in hand for what felt like hours and Remus watched you both from the window, sipping on a cup of tea.
“If this is as good as it gets,” he thought, “It’s enough.”
“Remus?” a little voice behind him caused him to whip around to where Teddy was standing, rubbing his eyes tiredly, curly hair all wild and askew from sleep, in tiny dinosaur pyjamas and his heart fluttered in his chest from Sirius’ words the previous day, "He should have been yours."
“Your Mummy will be back soon, she’s just talking with Sirius,” he said softly.
“I’m hungry,” he said, and Remus glanced back out the window to trace yours and Sirius’ tiny dots along the distance.
“Well how about I fix you up some toast?” he offered gently and Teddy grinned up at him widely.
“Can you make Moony toast?” Teddy asked coming to stand beside him, looking up at him with big, hopeful, sleepy eyes and Remus stopped all action, spinning to inspect the little boy with an amused smile.
“Moony toast?”
“Mum makes it, she cuts it up into four pieces and she puts different things on all the slices. I want Moony toast,” he begged and then looked up at Remus again remembering his manners he added, “Please.”
“Right,” Remus smiled to himself, popping a slice of bread into the toaster and flicking the switch on the kettle for himself, “One Moony toast coming right up.”
When you both finally returned, hair wind-swept and rosy-cheeked, Teddy lifted up a slice of toast and with his mouth full he beamed “Remus made me Moony toast.”
Your eyes widened in surprise and your mouth formed into the shape of an O, before your eyes met Remus’ and you softened into a grateful smile.
“Thank you,” you mouthed to Remus and he dismissed it as if it was nothing.
After Teddy finished his breakfast and dressed, he saddled up beside Sirius on the couch, who sat up straight like a poker at the kid’s proximity.
He was flipping through an old motorcycle magazine he’d found in the Living Room, and Teddy was peering over his shoulder.
“My daddy had a motorbike,” he said after a few moments of careful watching.
“I- I had one too.”
“Really?” Teddy squealed, pushing up onto his knees and you watched Sirius visibly relax a little and smile fondly.
“Here,” Sirius beamed, turning the pages to show Teddy a photo in the magazine, “It looked exactly like this!”
Teddy looked in awe at the picture, his eyes lighting up as he ran his little finger over the glossy page.
“Do you want to see my Daddy’s bike?” he asked hopefully, and goddamn when Sirius looked into his little face, it was the same pleading expression you always used on him, the very one that he could never say no to.
“Sure,” he found himself admitting before he could help it and Teddy was running to pull on his coat and grabbing the keys to the garage.
Once they had slipped outside you and Remus were left sitting in an awkward silence until he cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry-”
“No Rem- I’m sorry. Really sorry,”
“Can we just..Can we just be okay please?” he begged.
“Just like that?” you cried and he reached out a hand for you. You took it.
“We can’t change what happened, what we did, or how we acted, but we could start again, we have a second chance at it all, we have him back and I don’t want to waste another second of it going over things that we cannot change.”
“Can you forgive me?” you tried softly after a moment and he nodded instantly.
“Can you forgive me?” he replied but he couldn’t quite meet your eye, “For making you believe our love never mattered, for walking away. For all of it?”
You threw yourself into his arms in reply and just like he always did, he caught you. Strong arms locking around your middle and lifting you from the floor, spinning you around as you buried your face in his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said one last time and turned to look up into your eyes.
“How sorry?” you tried warily-it was a stupid thing you both used to do whenever you’d fought with each other, but you weren’t sure if he would remember.
“This sorry,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye, leaning up to kiss you on the lips, “And this sorry,” he repeated kissing you again, “And this sorry,” he chuckled but this time you didn’t let him break away, he kissed you softly until it made your head spin, and when you whimpered into the kiss he felt his knees go weak.
“I missed you so much,” he admitted honestly against your lips, his face a mixture of pain and sadness.
And you kissed him again for good measure.
“Should we go save Sirius from Teddy?” you asked from your position, head laid on Remus’s lap as he was playing absentmindedly with your hair, and he hummed contentedly.
“He really is a great kid,” he said, eyes still closed and head thrown back, “You’ve done such a marvelous job with him.”
“I don’t think Sirius has particularly warmed to him yet,” you said softly, “I think he sort of sees him as a betrayal.”
Remus wanted to disagree, to reassure you otherwise but he wouldn’t do you the disservice of lying to you ever again.
“It’s just-”
“- He looks like you,” you interrupted. “I know. It stops my heart in my chest sometimes.”
“Sirius said yesterday, that he should have been mine, that it would have been easier to accept if he had been.”
You sat up suddenly, hurt etched across all your features, “Teddy is innocent in all of this. It’s not his fault that Sirius got locked up and you abandoned me. It’s.. none of this is his fault and I won’t allow him to be punished for it.”
“Love that’s- No, that’s not what I meant at all!”
It didn’t matter now, the magic of the moment was ruined, you ran your hands through your hair and Remus felt it, felt the moment all your walls went back up and you were refusing to look at him again.
“Mum! Mum!” Teddy shouted, bursting in through the door and you were up off the sofa in heartbeat and Remus could hear the franticness in your voice.
“What? What is it?” you shrieked, grabbing him by the shoulders.
“Sirius got dad’s bike to turn on again, and he says he’s going to fix it up and that I can help him. I’m his assistant!” he beamed widely and his joy was contagious.
You turned slowly to look at Remus, and he watched as your shoulders visibly relaxed, and you pulled your boy into a bone crushing hug, as he giggled into your embrace.
Sirius arrived in moments later, wiping oily hands in an old rag and he began listing things he would need to do to actually get the bike on the road again, you didn’t mind, truly it was a shame for Edward’s bike to sit going to waste in the garage and if it brought Sirius some joy to tinker away with something, you wouldn’t stop him.
“If you write me a list I could take the car into town tomorrow and pick up some bits, I need to go in and get some groceries anyway,” you said after a while and Sirius grinned the widest you had seen him smile since he'd arrived.
“Would you really? God it would be so great to do something with my hands again,” he beamed and Remus was watching him with a soft expression as you handed him a notebook and pen.
“Come on then my little assistant,” he called to Teddy who was by his side in an instant bouncing up and down on his feet and following him out the door back to the garage.
You busied yourself making tea and things had become a little bit awkward with Remus again, the silence was deafening and neither of you were sure what to say to bridge the gap again.
So you kept your hands busy, throwing ingredients together to bake some soda bread and when you finally popped it into the oven you risked a glance over at your small living room where Remus was adding logs to the fire and prodding it with a poker to keep it lit.
You moved to stand behind him and sighed.
“Remus, I'm sorry I made things weird again. It's just-with Teddy he's so pure and kind hearted, I just don't want him dragged into our shit..if either of you couldn't accept him,” you let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, “I just won't have him be made to feel like he was a mistake because he is the best thing that ever happened in my life and he's already suffered enough. I apologise if I get defensive over him sometimes.”
“I understand. Of course I understand love, you've been doing this all on your own for so long, I shouldn't have made that comment about it being easier to accept if he was mine, he isn't and it's not for me or Sirius to comment on.”
You smiled sadly and nodded, still not quite sure what to say. In the past this might have become an explosive argument, getting Remus to see your point of view hadn’t always been his forte, so you just smiled shyly his way instead.
“He’s really, truly a great kid and you are a fantastic mother,” he smiled softly and you felt yourself blush, “But you don’t need me to tell you that,” he smiled again and you found yourself moving towards his warmth.
“I don’t know,” you joked, “I would quite like to hear you say it again.”
He closed the distance between you and gently brushed a hand through your hair as he tilted your head back, “Let me tell you again,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck, his voice low and husky, “You,” he mumbled against your skin, “Are a fantastic mother.”
“Remus,” you gasped, surprising even yourself as he finally placed his lips on yours and your body arched into his of its own accord.
“Can I touch you?” he begged and you were gasping “Please,” before you could even stop yourself, and suddenly his hands were everywhere, in your hair, on your waist, trailing up underneath your shirt to trace along the soft skin of your sides, his lips never left yours, mouth hot and open as you gasped into it.
“Shit Moons,” you hissed as he attached his lips to the skin above your collarbone and he stilled all actions, pausing to look at you with giant, hopeful eyes.
“Say it again?” he pleaded.
“What?” you gasped, pulled from your lust filled haze, confusion written over your features trying to work out why he had stopped.
“Moony,” he mouthed but didn't speak and soon you caught on to what he meant “Please, you haven't called me that in so long,” he should have been embarrassed about how much he needed to hear it but with you looking at him with those huge, gorgeous eyes he just couldn't bring himself to care.
“I know it's intimate and I know– I know I don't deserve it but you stopped calling me it months before we.. Before I fucked everything up-it's been so long. Too long-”
“Moony. Moony. Hey, it's okay,” you reassured him, hand rushing up to cup his face, rubbing small, reassuring patterns on the freckles on his cheek.
He looked at you with such a softness you didn't know what to do with it, “My Moony,” you tried and the look on his face made you want to cry.
A movement at the door caught your eye and your attention was pulled to where Sirius was stood, arms folded protectively around himself watching you two with tears in his eyes.
“I uh, I finished the list I just wanted to give it to you,” he said, voice cracking, “I didn't mean to interrupt.”
“You're not interrupting love,” Remus reassured, “Never.”
You watched Remus pull Sirius into his arms and place a gentle kiss to each of his cheeks, and your stomach fluttered the way it always did when you watched them together.
“Does this mean you're both okay? Please, I really need you to both be okay,” Sirius was pleading and Remus shook his head.
“I've still got a little bit of making up to do,” he said softly.
“But we will be,” you promised, “We're starting to be.”
“Why is everybody sad?” Teddy stood with his hands on his hips “Come on Sirius we have work to do!” he bossed and turned on his heels.
“So apparently I'm the apprentice now,” he deadpanned but his smirk was affectionate.
“He's definitely your kid!” he shouted before disappearing out the door.
You picked up the list and smiled at the familiar neat scrawl.
“Don't suppose you fancy a small road trip tomorrow?” you asked Remus and he was agreeing quicker than a heartbeat.
That night you walked the beach with Remus, he was walking a little slowly and you suspected it was because his hip was ailing him, you didn’t want to push so you fell in line and enjoyed the easy conversation.
Teddy and Sirius were miles ahead, Sirius was pointing out far away constellations to him and showing him through his telescope how to find and distinguish them.
And Teddy really proudly showed Sirius himself among the stars, “The brightest one!” you heard him announce proudly and Remus squeezed your hand.
“And to think you were worried about those two,” he mused
“Why are you back there?” Teddy seemed to suddenly remember that you and Remus existed too and came tearing down the sand to meet you both.
“We’re taking our time,” you laughed at his demanding face, “Remus doesn’t like to walk fast so we’re going at our own pace, thank you very much.”
He seemed to consider that thoughtfully for a moment before he looked up and Remus in consideration.
“You should walk fast with Sirius, I want to stay with Remus.”
“Teddy,” you warned. “We’ve talked about this, you can’t just boss people around to do whatever you want to do. I was enjoying talking with Remus.”
He raised his telescope sadly, “But I wanted to show him our stars,” he said, voice trembling.
“It’s alright love,” Remus said fondly, “I can’t wait to see your stars Teddy,” he said crouching down to ruffle some of your kid’s unruly curls.
And Sirius, who had been watching the interaction with a strange sense of joy extended his hand out for you and so you accepted and left Remus in the bossy hands of your son.
“He’s so like you,” Sirius mused when you had walked a little ahead of the other two, “Bossy, feisty, I think I love him.”
You laughed shyly, wanting to deny that you were bossy but you were self aware enough to know that wasn’t true.
“Does he look like his dad?” Sirius asked softly and you were unsure if you were walking into one of Sirius’ trick questions, the ones that sound innocent until you realised they were a double edged sword, but you looked into his eyes and found no malice or trickery there.
“Yes,” you said honestly and stopped to look at Remus and Teddy walking hand and hand along the sand, “Yes he does.”
“What does this mean?” Teddy was swiping his little finger along the engraving on Remus’ brass compass.
“It’s my name see,” Remus was leant down on his hunkers and he pointed to each initial “RJL- Remus John Lupin.”
“Was John your dad’s name?” Teddy asked and Remus shook his head and smiled affectionately, “No, his name was Lyall,” he smiled but it slipped from his face when Teddy’s eyes went wide in a mixture of delight, shock and finally wonder.
“That is my middle name!” he gasped and Remus felt the blood run cold in his veins in an instant, it was like all time stood still for him and he forgot how to breathe as he looked into the warm amber eyes boring back into his. A mirror image of his own.
He released a shuddered breath.
Suddenly Sirius' voice in your spare room seemed to haunt him like a specter “He looks like you...... He should have been yours."
Surely not...
Tagging: (Just based on people who have interacted with my previous fics, but please feel free to ignore or ask to be removed)
Summary: Seven years after Voldemort was defeated for good on that faithful Halloween night the Potters were murdered, Sirius Black is declared innocent and reunited with his love Remus Lupin, but what of their other love who has by all means vanished from the wizarding world with her child to live a life of seclusion? Can they forge a peaceful existence from the heartache and betrayal of the past? Or are some hurts too much to heal?
They took the little coast road together hand in hand, the waves rolled and crashed and the tiny lighthouse in the distance was nothing but a shimmery flicker on the horizon.
There was a storm rolling in, and it mirrored their mood as they continued to climb.
Sirius shuddered in the chilly November air and Remus pulled him closer in an attempt to share some of his warmth with him.
Neither of them spoke, they simply gripped each other’s hands like a lifeline against the storm that was brewing and the inevitable one they were about to face.
Sirius suddenly stopped dead on the coast path and jerked Remus to a stop.
His face was torn up with doubt and worry and Remus wrapped his fingers around his delicate wrists.
His wrists had always been quite dainty, but seven years in Azakaban had them wilted away to skin and bone.
“What if,” he began and shuddered again in the cold, “What if she turns us away?”
Remus considered him for a moment and then moved to cup his face gently, “She would never turn you away love,” he promised brushing reassuring circles on his lover’s gaunt cheeks with his thumbs.
“And if she turns me away, at least I will know that you are somewhere safe.”
“I don’t- I can’t be without you again,” Sirius suddenly cried, glassy eyed and breathing heavily like he was about to have a panic attack.
“She trusted Dumbledore enough to give him the coordinates, we just have to trust her now, alright?” It was all that Remus could do to reassure him because truthfully, if you’d shut the door in his face and hexed him, he couldn’t have blamed you.
Thankfully Sirius allowed Remus to take his hand again and lead him the remainder of the way until the tiny cottage above the grassy dunes emerged and he swallowed his own uneasiness down, Sirius was all that mattered he reminded himself.
The lights were on inside your tiny cottage and smoke was circling up from the chimney but after a few knocks Remus realised that you were not inside, beginning to despair he turned to see Sirius staring down to the beach with a pained expression and tears in his eyes.
Standing on the shore was a tiny figure of a woman in a knitted jumper and jeans, hair whipping around wildly in the wind, staring out aimlessly at the wild expanse of crashing waves, while a little boy with wild unruly curls ran around you, arms outstretched and laughing, his voice carried like birdsong over the wind and up into the dunes.
Your arms were hugged around yourself and you looked impossibly tiny.
Dumbledore had mentioned the child, a boy, and Sirius had wept into Remus’ chest for hours at the prospect that you had moved on without them, and Remus could do nothing but bunch his hands up into his lovers’ hair and swallow down the very same shame and grief.
A grief of his own creation.
The Father, a muggle Dumbledore had said was dead, and Remus wondered for a moment how much heartbreak exactly was one person supposed to endure in this life?
“Let’s go,” Sirius spluttered and made to flee, “Let’s go before she sees us. Before we ruin it all.”
But Remus was transfixed to the spot as he stood watching you, your hair whirling around and the crashing waves before you, he couldn’t get his feet to move, even as Sirius pushed against him urging him to move.
Turn around, he begged as though he could will you to hear him from there.
And then as though the wind had carried his whispered pleas across the dunes and out across the sand, you turned suddenly, hands flying down to your sides and stood watching them warily, and Remus felt the old familiar tug on his heartstrings whenever he thought about you.
And then because you had always been the bravest among them, you began to move and Sirius’ feet began to move of their accord too, until his steps were becoming more frantic, more urgent and you began to mirror his pace until you were both running across the sand towards each other.
In a great collision of tears and whispered names you came together, hands grasping at the other to prove that the other was real.
Sirius wept into your neck and you circled your arms around him to keep him in place, giving him a safe space to fall apart completely in your arms.
When you finally pulled apart to examine him, fingers ghosting over the lines of his face, Remus was too far away to hear what you were saying but Sirius seemed to sag against you in relief, and before he had time to work out exactly what he was going to say to you after so long, you were both on your way toward him, linked arm in arm, Sirius still crying.
To your credit you had tried to smile at him when you finally reached him, but the glisten of tears in your eyes and the pain behind the smile made him want to fall at your feet and atone for everything he had done.
Too late for that, a hateful voice in his head spat. You fucked it all. Too late now.
“Come in,” you said kindly and led them inside into the warmth of your home, your son was still running through the dunes and you called for him to come inside.
Both Remus and Sirius flocked to the little stove that was burning in the corner of the Living Room warming their hands, and you set about putting the kettle on for tea.
Remus stood watching your back, you were enveloped in your knitted jumper and your shoulder’s slouched tiredly, in fact your whole body looked tired as you worked quietly.
And when you returned to the table with a steaming cup in both hands, Remus really honed in on just how tired you looked, there were tiny crinkles around your eyes, and smile lines evident around your mouth when you forced yourself to smile again, not quite wrinkles but evidence of a face that was evidently more lived in than the youthful girl he had once known.
He supposed that was what grief and the passing of nearly a decade would do, but in his mind he’d always expected you to remain the same, you always did in his dreams at night where you haunted him, or whenever you came back to taunt him in his mind.
You’re a coward.
It was always the same message.
“I’ve made up the bed in the spare room,” you said kindly, breaking the silence.
“I figured you would want to sleep together,”
“Yes please,” Sirius blurted, too quickly, grasping Remus’ hand, afraid that someone would try to separate him from his Moony and he’d only just gotten him back. If you noticed his fear you didn’t let it show, you simply nodded and took a small sip from your tea with a gentle “Alright then.”
The door being thrust open pulled both men’s attention away from you, and Sirius visibly stilled when the little figure of your son appeared at the table watching them with wide, curious eyes.
His head was a mass of unruly, auburn coloured curls and his cheeks were red from the cold outside, his little knitted jumper matched yours and Sirius focused on his little red wellington boots, and his heart felt like it could fall out of his chest with grief and he couldn't help the influx of tears that sprang to his eyes.
“Teddy, these are my friends Remus and Sirius, you remember I told you they would be coming to stay with us?” you told him, unable to meet either of their eyes.
“Yes. Like the night sky,” he squeaked, words tumbling out in a rush of childlike wonder as he climbed up onto your lap, almost spilling the tea from the cup in your hand but you smiled affectionately as you settled him on your knee.
Both of them looked at you in question and your cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.
“Like the night sky?” Remus quirked but mercifully Teddy answered for you both.
“Every night, we take a walk on the beach before bed time and Mummy shows me her friends in the sky. Sirius is the brightest star of course, and Remus is the moon so I always know how to find him, and Daddy’s star is there too, that’s the second brightest star in the whole sky after Sirius. But Remus is always the easiest to find, I don’t even need my telescope to find him.”
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, but when you chanced a look in Sirius’ direction his face had completely softened and he was looking at Teddy with warmth instead of contempt, even though his eyes were glassy.
Remus wanted to burn alive from the shame that welled up inside of him, he had treated you so badly, bad enough that he thought you would never dare to speak his name aloud to anyone again, and here was your little child brimming with excitement telling him you spoke to him every night.
Teddy suddenly began to giggle and continued, “Mummy talks to the stars, every night she says goodnight my loves, and I tell her that stars can’t talk back, but she says it’s okay because they are always listening. She says Daddy can hear me when I tell him I miss him.”
“Okay, bud that’s enough,” you said, rising but your cheeks were now a deep shade of red and neither of them missed the glassiness of your eyes.
Remus thought his heart was going to combust in his chest.
“Give the grown ups a chance to finish their tea,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and guided him towards the hall, “Take off those boots and go wash your hands.”
“I’ll make us some supper,” you said after your tea was finished and showed them up to their room, having left fresh towels on the bed in case they wanted to freshen up, and while Sirius showered, Remus lay staring at the ceiling listening to the water running in the bathroom and you tinkering around the kitchen, interrupted by the sound of Teddy’s giggles every now and then. Guilt settled in his stomach as it always did whenever he thought about how things had ended between you, he hadn’t even been able to work up the courage to tell Sirius exactly how it had all gone down yet, despite his gentle asking.
“We just fell apart without you,” he kept repeating every time.
Coward, your voice always cut in right after.
Sirius emerged from the shower, towel slung around his waist and water falling in droplets from his black curls and Remus’ mouth went dry.
Sirius seemed to follow his gaze and then looked away shyly, where once he had been beautiful and he knew it, now he was skin and bone, collarbones and hipbones jutting out sharply and he felt haggard, none of that seemed to matter to Remus who insisted on telling him he was beautiful, always.
Remus reached out a hand and was grateful when Sirius took it and allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed.
The smell of dinner cooking wafted into the room where they lay on the bed, legs entwined and hands joined.
“Smells amazing,” Sirius mused, breaking the silence and Remus hummed in agreement.
“Tell me,” Sirius begged “Tell me what happened, and please don't give me the same response you’ve been giving since I got back, I want to know. I deserve to know.”
Remus sighed and pulled their joined hands over his chest to rest there so Sirius could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat.
“It was my fault,” he admitted to the ceiling because it was easier than admitting it to Sirius, “It was all my fault.”
But they both startled at the gentle knocking on the door and Teddy’s voice calling through “Mummy says supper will be ready in five!”
It made Sirius’ chest ache and he rose and dressed quietly while Remus remained staring at the ceiling a little longer.
“He looks like you,” Sirius said suddenly accusatoryly, and Remus felt his heart catch in his throat.
“He’s not mine Sirius,” Remus said sadly, little Teddy had startled Remus too when he’d come bounding into the kitchen, looking like a mirror of the rare photographs Remus had seen of himself as a kid.
Sirius sniffed sharply, “He should have been yours. Then it wouldn’t be so hard to swallow.”
Remus didn’t know what to say that would ease Sirius’ anger so he simply swallowed and continued staring at the ceiling while Sirius huffed and pulled the rest of his clothes on.
You all ate in a comfortable silence, Sirius freezing every now and then, eyes closed and head thrown back to truly enjoy the food and Remus could tell that made you happy, but he found that neither of you could quite look the other in the eye yet.
And just after you served dessert, you quickly tucked Teddy into bed, who thankfully went to bed without fuss under the promise that tomorrow he could show Remus and Sirius ‘themselves’ in the sky through his telescope.
“This place is beautiful,” Sirius eventually said after a long swig from his wine glass, and you smiled appreciatively.
“Thank you,” you said shyly, “After I left the Aurors I figured I needed somewhere with a bit of peace.”
“You’ve certainly found that here,” Sirius mused.
“Externally anyway, we’re still working on the internal,” you laughed and took a small sip of your own wine, Remus couldn’t help the short burst laughter that escaped his lips but his stomach fluttered when he was rewarded with, albeit a brief, but genuine smile his way.
“Still working on that myself,” he mused and you smiled his way again before you caught yourself and looked away like you had been burned.
Suddenly a chair scraping startled you both and Sirius was rising like a bolt and knocking over his chair and both you and Remus were on your feet in an instant.
“How could you both let it happen?” he demanded venomously, and you both looked at him like he was a wild animal that had been cornered.
“You were supposed to be happy! That’s- that’s all I had for seven years. That’s all I had to cling to..that at least you had each other. That at least you weren’t out there alone, and we’re sitting here now and you can’t even fucking look at each other! It’s bullshit! Such bullshit! I was pulled away from you both against my will but what..You gave up on each other just because what is it you say Remus..’We just fell apart without you’ Bullshit!”
“It’s the truth,” you tried to calm Sirius but Remus had not been expecting you to back him up in the slightest, “I’m so sorry but we did fall to pieces without you there. It was awful, truly awful and we nearly destroyed each other.”
Suddenly Sirius had erupted into tears “It’s not fucking fair. None of it is fair, you were supposed to be there, waiting for me, and I can’t even kiss you both, I needed you both together and you let it all fall apart.”
You moved away from the table to stare out the window and Remus could see from the way you gulped in air that you were forcing yourself to calm down.
“You gave up on me!” Sirius wailed and that was the precise moment Remus knew he was done for, you whirled around anguish etched across every feature and Remus felt like he was going to throw up because here it came, the moment all his failings would all come bursting out into the light.
“I never gave up on you!” you cried, looking at Remus like the piece of shit that he was.
Coward.
Coward.
Coward.
And so he’d had no choice but to stand there with his head down as you spat it all out.
All of his shame out there in the open now for Sirius to pick apart.
You’d joined the Auror’s office. You had fought on, bringing Rowle, Dolohov and Karkaroff to justice while Remus had drank himself into oblivion in the flat.
When Remus had had nothing left to give, you didn't know how to stop fighting.
While Voldemort was gone it wasn’t enough for you, you had been hellbent on catching every death eater you could get your hands on and Remus was never sure when the news was going to come through that you’d gotten yourself killed and he’d have lost you too.
“Revenge won’t bring them back,” he’d cried in his hundredth attempt to get you to slow down, “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“It’s all I have left!!” you’d screamed back.
You have me. You Still have me…he’d wanted to cry but even he knew it that moment it wasn’t enough.
“And I kept applying for visitation and they kept refusing me, over and over again, they wouldn’t even let me see you just once. I just had to see you, and then you could tell me that it wasn’t true, I knew it wasn’t true! I knew!!”
You were crying now and here it came Remus thought, chancing one last look at Sirius because he wasn’t sure if he would ever let him look upon him again after he found out just how badly he had treated you.
“I never gave up on you! Ever. But we started fighting all the time. It was like he just gave up on everything, on life itself. He was drinking himself to death and it was like he just didn’t feel anything anymore.”
“That’s not- I felt everything, all the time, it was too much and you were relentless, you were going to end up missing or dead and I couldn’t lose you too! I wouldn’t have survived losing you too!”
“You lost me anyway!” you spat and he shook his head, tears in his own eyes.
Sirius who had been watching with frightful eyes finally spoke, “So what happened that was so bad that neither of you could go back from?”
Remus thought back to the night it had all blown up, the night he had destroyed it all beyond repair..
“Fine then leave. If you’re not going to fight for him, leave like the coward you are”.
Coward! Coward!
The words had haunted his every single step since the day he’d walked away.
And Remus had spat the words that had destroyed it all. Killed any love you had ever held in your heart for him stone dead.
“I never wanted this, any of this. I only did it for him, to make him happy!”
“Remus,” you had cried “I love you, and I thought- I thought that you loved me?”
His laugh had been bitter- jarring even, “Love you? Look at you, you can’t even admit to yourself that we’ve lost. He’s never coming back and you can’t stop fighting a losing battle for the bastards that cost us everything- how could anyone love that?”
“He told me the truth,” you said, voice soft and laden in shame, “That he had never loved me, he’d only agreed to open the relationship because you had wanted it, and now that you were gone he didn’t have to pretend to love me anymore,” you cried.
Sirius’ eyes widened in horror and hurt and Remus moved toward you and you didn’t stop him, chest heaving and looking like you wanted to slap him.
He would have let you.
“None of it was true,” he pleaded, “You were right when you’d called me a coward and I lashed out, I just wanted you to hurt the way that I was hurting, and I wanted to take it back the moment it left my mouth but I could see the damage I had done.” he cried, “I couldn’t bare it. You were right, I was a coward, but I loved you more than anything and I couldn’t stand to lose you too, but I had been so fucking hateful I knew there was no coming back from that so I left first before I truly lost you.”
“But I lost you,” you cried and Remus was crossing the threshold and pulling you to him in two strides, grateful when you let him, allowing yourself to be pulled against his chest you sagged against him and cried “I lost you!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry,” he repeated, swaying you in his arms and you cried silently, “None of it was true, I was a selfish bastard, none of it was true, I loved you so much it hurt, and I was disgusted with myself for what I’d said, and was too coward to put it right. But none of it was true.”
You weren’t sure how long you’d allowed yourself to be held in Remus’ arms, your mind went numb as you cried, seven years of grief came stumbling out in one outburst and now you felt nothing.
“Why did you do it?” you finally asked, voice tiny and scratchy from crying.
“I couldn’t carry the weight of it all anymore,” he finally admitted honestly.
“The grief. The loss. The fear. I was fucking terrified all the time and you just wouldn’t stop, you nearly died taking Dolohov in and I know it was cowardly and selfish, and I knew you were disgusted with me because I was a fucking shell of a person who wasn’t doing enough but I need you to understand that I genuinely had nothing left to fucking give Dumbledore, the war- not even to you and I knew I was going to lose you one way or another and I guess in my stupidity I thought if I made you hate me, if I left you, if it was my choice, it would hurt less, and I just wanted the hurting to stop. I needed all of it to stop.”
“I believed you,” you whispered, “All this time I believed you. Believed I was this unlovable thing. I built entire versions of myself around the belief that you never loved me, that our whole relationship had been a lie. I drove myself crazy wondering how I had gotten it all so wrong. How I could have misread everything so badly, I nearly drove myself crazy.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, because he meant it. Because it was true, “But I’m telling you the truth now, you’ve always deserved the truth- and I’ve always been a coward.”
You stepped away from him to look out the window at the waves crashing onto the beach in the distance and ran a hand through your hair.
“I promise I won’t ask you for forgiveness, I know it’s the last thing I deserve,” he said to your back and your shoulders shook slightly as you cried silently.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” you cried but still wouldn’t face him.
“Mummy?” a little voice called from the bottom step of the stairs and you were hastily wiping your tears and turning to face your little boy, “I had a bad dream,” he cried, chin wobbling, and you crossed the room to scoop him up.
“I’m going to take him back up and turn in for the night myself,” you said holding Teddy to you tightly, “We’ll talk more in the morning,” you promised and you were disappearing up the steps before either of them could get a chance to reply.
“I need a cigarette,” Remus choked, watching your retreating figure and he slipped out the back door and into the cold, sea-air.
He found Sirius washing the dishes in the kitchen and he stood a little distance away unsure if he was allowed to touch his lover anymore or not.
“I’m sorry,” he tried eventually and Sirius stilled all actions before turning to shoot him a pleading look.
“No,” he gasped, “I’m sorry. I pushed you both to breaking point tonight.” Sirius said regretfully “It was selfish of me. But I’ve always been selfish,” he deadpanned, “I guess I had this vision of you both all this time, like what you’d gone through couldn’t have been worse than what I did. Like how could you both have let yourselves be so miserable when you had the chance to be happy? But now I understand, of course it would have been just as awful for you both. It’s all pointless fucking suffering. We’d lost everyone that ever mattered. Including each other.”
“I know I was a coward to leave her, to let her think that I didn’t love her, but I just couldn’t stand back and watch her get herself killed. I couldn’t bear the thought of another gravestone that I wasn’t strong enough to visit and I just didn't know how to make it all stop.”
“She was the only one who fought for me,” Sirius sniffed, feeling a strange surge of heartbreaking appreciation for you, but then he thought of Remus, trying to navigate everything through the grief of losing everyone he ever loved with the threat of losing you too.
“But you were right Moony, it had to end.”
Remus reached out and hugged Sirius around the middle, placing a relieved kiss to his shoulder.
“You really did fall apart without me,” he whispered.
“You were always the glue,” Remus whispered, “As if we could ever have gone on without you.”
“I mattered,” Sirius said more to himself than to Remus.
“You matter,” Remus corrected.
And Sirius allowed himself to be pulled closer and closer until Remus pressed his lips delicately to his and he eased himself slowly into the familiarity of Remus’ lips on his, and sighed contentedly into the kiss.
“Take me to bed,” he finally whispered shyly, glancing up at Remus through his lashes. And Remus clasped his hands in his and they took the stairs together, neither sure of what they would be facing tomorrow, but Sirius was somewhat relieved in the fact that at least they would be facing it together.
Tagging: (Just based on people who have interacted with my previous fics, but please feel free to ignore or ask to be removed)
TW: Murder, explicit smut, erotophonophilia (deriving sexual excitement from killing), face fucking, manipulation & slight stockholm syndrome..overall he’s not a good dude.
Thanks to the lovely @volklana for collaborating with me on this! And always being such a fantastic support 🖤 and @mintwrit3z for beta reading.
Word count: 9.6k
There’s something about the quiet reflection of smoking alone, while a party rages on behind thick concrete walls, that you’d always found incredibly relaxing. Your focus lay solely on your breath and the object balanced delicately between your fingertips. For a few short moments, it seemed like it was just you and the night, in silent communication.
Autumn was your favourite time of year. Crisp, cold nights and fresh days with the sun dipping lower in the sky. You felt the magic of this season hanging heavy in the night air, it was as if it spoke to you. Perhaps it was because you were born in autumn, perhaps it was the mystical nature of the season. The veil between the worlds was thinner, and as Halloween approached, you felt the subtle shift in the elements. Taking a large lungful of smoke, you communed with the darkness, enjoying a brief moment of peace in a night full of frivolity and alcohol fuelled debauchery. But the black night shrouded all manner of sins from your eyes, and in that moment, your only focus was on the glowing embers dying at the tip of your cigarette. You had no idea what horrors lingered in the shadows, what terror lay only inches from your feet.
With your back propped up against the heavy wooden door, music boomed from inside, penetrating the thick oak slab behind your head, yet your mind was caught in a thick fog. The night air was cool, your breath and smoke mingling in the frigidity around you. For once, you weren’t overthinking how you looked or dissecting a conversation you just had. For a brief few minutes, you had true calm descend over you in the form of cold evening air and invigorating substances in smokable form. That is, until the door swung open, sending you hurtling into two veined arms that quickly righted you upright and encapsulated your torso.
“Jesus…shit…you scared me…”
Your asshole of a boyfriend simply laughed, a rumbling display of amusement spurred on by your skittish reaction. He simply nuzzled his chin into your neck, huffing in delight against the delicate skin and inhaling a nosefull of your scent.
“What's the matter, baby? You look like you've seen a ghost..”
“Aem, quit it, you know I'm normally not scared so easily” you scowled, your face painted with fake displeasure. Though you couldn’t help but squeal as his hands wandered your sides, hitting every ticklish spot on their way, breaking your face into unrestrained smiles. Aemond was always incredibly handsy, though as touch starved as you were, you never complained. You loved getting attention from the prettiest man you’d ever encountered, you felt blessed to have his hands roaming your flesh, his good eye trained on you and only you.
You'd only been together a few months, and though the relationship was relatively fresh, you'd fallen…hard.
Aemond was unconventionally attractive. His face, though it looked like it had been carved from pale white marble, was marred by blanched pink scars, which spanned the length of his right cheek. One eye had been damaged in an accident as a kid, so in its place sat a prosthetic painted in the most dazzling shade of sapphire blue. Somehow, it only added to his ethereal nature, never detracting from his unusual beauty. That, alongside an entirely black wardrobe consisting mostly of band shirts and leather, complimented his stunning features. He was a man of great contrast, his look most striking, while his personality was more reserved. He was the most captivating, yet troubled young man you'd ever laid eyes on, and you couldn't help but fall face first into quite an intense entanglement after being introduced.
Aemond was always the most attentive partner, always paying heed to even the smallest details. He noticed things most boyfriends would completely ignore: changes in your expression & body language, slight shifts in your mood, and he always anticipated your needs before you’d even have to ask. When you were around friends, Aemond’s hands stayed connected to your skin at all times, holding your hand, tracing delicate patterns against the back of your palm, or running his spindly fingers along the column of your neck. His eye would always be on you, following you around the room. In private, he was even more impassioned. He loved feeling your body pressed against him, the warmth of your flesh against his own. Instead of psychoanalysing these slightly possessive traits, you leaned into them, rivalling his intensity with your own eccentricities. You were a rather odd, but well balanced match.
On this night, as you stood in the dark, your face only highlighted by the glow of your cigarette, Aemond took advantage of the privacy the shadows afforded and peppered your neck with kisses, pulling you tightly against his chest as you stood resolutely, facing into the black night. You loved how needy he was, but also domineering in equal measure. He never used those sculpted muscles against you, except to further your pleasure, to satisfy you in every way you desired. And now he cuddled you against the cold, sheltered you from the chilled wind blowing through the trees. “It’s such a nice night out…you thirsty baby?” his warm breath vibrated against your skin. He extended a hand out, a chilled beer bottle grasped between several graceful fingers. Even the sight of them made you shiver, though that could’ve also been the bitter breeze swirling around your ankles. “Thank Aem, I'm parched.” You happily snatched the slim bottle from his hands, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary against his digits, which earned a smirk, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as the fermented amber liquid ran down your throat. The familiar quenching of thirst came with a promise in itself, you could see the hints of mischief present in his smile.
In return for his generosity, you extended a frigid hand, the end of your cigarette blooming between your dainty fingers. He didn’t even need to say anything; instead, Aemond leaned down, wrapping his plump lips around the thin paper. One sharp inhale and his body filled with an addicting sense of elation, one he sought out in other avenues of life. He found it touching your body, pulling you close, and feeling each curve and valley of your perfectly sculpted frame under his fingertips. He found it in coaxing those pretty mewls from your lips, a soundtrack he’d gladly play on repeat. Yet there was always the pull towards something darker, something a little more… taboo.
As he stood with you in that doorway, the swell of your arse pressed against his quickly growing bulge, Aemond realised that the evidence of his other, perhaps more niche hobbies lay only inches away, neatly tucked around the shadowy corner.
It was only sheer luck that you hadn’t noticed a pool of sticky crimson blood inching across the damp mud, crawling towards your feet - but the night had long descended, the sun had fallen from the sky, replaced by the heavy blackness of an autumn night. The dark provided cover for his lurid savagery, shrouding the horrors from your sight.
With one drag, Aemond filled his lungs with the delicious sting of nicotine. There was only one languid last puff left, one draw of the bitter nectar he so often craved. With a sharp exhale into the night, he dropped the butt of the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, the heel of his shoe squelching the dying embers into the damp earth. Not too far away, the mud was stained red with blood, a pool slowly forming beneath the corpse of a man who dared lay his beady eyes on you across a packed dancefloor earlier that same night.
Warm hands kept you pressed to his chest, pulled close to a heart beating softly beneath leather clad skin. In that darkened doorway with the man of your dreams hanging on your every breath, you found yourself smiling like an idiot. Your eyes were drawn to the curve of Aemond’s mouth as it encased the last of your cigarette. You marvelled at the swell of his cheeks as he billowed smoke into the crisp night air. He always stole your focus, captured your attention simply by existing. You were utterly entranced by his sharp, angular features. Such beauty in a man was rare, but he had both softness and a sharp edge, a traditional pretty boy look laced with danger and the added oddity of his disfigurements. He somehow appeared angelic and devilish in equal measure, an enigma wrapped in the most beautiful packaging. And as he held you against the frigid wind, the darkness encroaching on your romantic moment, you couldn't help but be completely taken with the man you called yours once more.
Yet the wind brought with it a certain anxiety, a subtle foreboding that settled in your mind. As he crushed the remains of your cigarette under his boot and pulled you tightly into his arms, sandwiching your body between his hardened chest and the wall, you utterly fell to his wiles, melting like butter under his smoldering gaze. You couldn't help but see a glint of mischief in that unyielding stare. As if he had a plan you were not yet privy to, but it was wrapped in warmth, in a certain affection that you sought out in every room.
Before long, strong hands dragged you from the chill of night and guided you back into a sea of drunken bodies, each one swaying to their own rhythm, some with the music, some following a tempo of their own design. Each one moved like a branch in the breeze. The intoxicating scent of liquor billowed from inebriated lungs, mouths that messily combined on the dance floor, swapping saliva and the lingering traces of whatever they'd been drinking. Bodies undulated like the tide, a swell of flesh to music, yet even that couldn't distract you from those dazzlingly blue eyes piercing into your flesh as his searing grip held on and led you across the crowded room. The atmosphere numbed any unease in your mind, the sense of frivolity and joy contagious. Even under the haze of alcohol, you felt Aemond’s eyes trained on you as he walked you through a sea of drunkards. Never once did you suspect distrust in your relationship, yet he kept his eyes on you as if you’d disappear into the night.
Instead of allowing you to wander into the haze of debauchery that surrounded you both, Aemond pulled you flush to him, and began to sway along with the other bodies in the pool.
His hands wandered to your hips, feeling in the dark for anywhere he could grasp onto. Moving in tandem with the pulsing rhythm, his hips were pinned against your own, undulating in time with one another. You allowed your mind to go blank, to exist solely in the moment with Aemond, his eyes as hypnotising as the thrumming beat over the speakers, the swell of want between his legs enough to send waves of desire through your body. It was almost intoxicating, surrendering to the music and the feeling of uninhibited bodies around you. It was a certain type of freedom, a complete departure from your regular life.
It took a while for people in their drunken stupor to notice that someone was missing, and inebriated people eventually tottered around the room in search of a man who’d never walk through those doors again. Aemond noticed the commotion, yet remained cool and collected, instead channeling his focus towards you, as your body mirrored the mindless drones around you, swaying in time with the music. He was never one to dance, usually opting to prop up the wall with a beer in hand instead, but he'd follow you anywhere, would do anything you asked. That included grinding on the dancefloor to the dulcet tones of ‘Don't Fear the Reaper’, well lubricated by several shots of whiskey beforehand. You'd have never realised that he also had an ulterior motive for his compliance. Participating in such a charade was a small price to pay, to keep certain secrets hidden.
It took several more minutes for you to notice the panicked faces wandering around the dance floor, yet the gravity of the situation didn't quite register, your mind had been swallowed by lust and alcohol. Lipsticked lips sloppily met Aemond’s warm cheek and you hurriedly dragged him by the hand over to a group where his sister had been standing. The music rumbled on, though you leaned into Helaena’s shoulder, whispering into her ear. “Hel, what's going on?”
Helaena shrugged, clearly too lost in her drink to comprehend the situation. “It's really weird, isn't it, to think this fuss is all because of you?”
You loved the bones of her, but she was scattered at the best of times, let alone when she had imbibed on her favourite beverages. Sometimes she simply made no sense and spoke words into the ether without any context at all. “I love you, Hel, but you make no sense sometimes..” you laughed, before returning to Aemond and snuggling into his waiting arms.
Gossip made its way around the room - unfounded words swirling in the mouths of drunk people like the ice clinking in their cups. Young men had been going missing in your neighbourhood the last few months, some turning up disfigured, some slashed and beaten beyond recognition. But all undeniably dead. It was enough to strike fear into the coldest of hearts, and Aemond hadn't left you out of his sight since. You found it strange, some names you’d even recognised, but they weren’t close friends, only people you’d encountered in passing. Friends of friends, faces you'd have recognised in social situations like tonight. A strange sense of foreboding settled in your gut, but the alcohol numbed any immediate reaction to the chatter, dulling your usually acute intuition.
Still, the atmosphere inside had changed, and despite something gnawing at your mind, a subtle warning sign that you pushed to the side, your immediate desires took control, and you pulled Aemond upstairs. To your chagrin, the bedrooms were already occupied, so you headed outside, perhaps the dark would shield you from prying eyes. It seemed Aemond had the same thought, his voice carrying above the din of some cheesy rock song, “Wanna play a game?” and he nodded in the direction of the back door, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.
Out in the dark with Aemond, despite the stinging chill in the air, you couldn’t keep your hands off him. The night provided adequate cover for your lewd activities, though at any moment someone could walk through the door and catch you in the act. Somehow, the danger made your boyfriend that much hotter, his perfectly sculpted body that much more irresistible. Only the stars were witnesses to your ravenous appetite, to the dip of your tongue into the warm caverns of Aemond’s mouth, exploring each other as if it were the first time. Those twinkling lights saw every grinding thrust of hips and wandering palm, searching for friction against a willing body.
The heat of his breath stung like frostbite, while the wind nipped at your cheek. Yet you only leaned into his warmth, you soaked up every ounce of affection this beautiful man bestowed upon you. You never imagined feeling so wanted, so seen. Aemond always made you feel like the only woman in his life, the only one he saw. His hands carved a path through skin, warm fingertips frantically grasping at flesh as if you’d soon disappear into the night, vanish like a puff of smoke beneath frenzied fingers.
He was always passionate, desperate to have you close, but in the biting darkness, he seemed more frenzied, less controlled than you’d seen him before, as if a fire burned within him that couldn’t be quenched. Or perhaps it was the whiskey. Either way, he was insatiable. His movements were messy, frantic. Plump lips captured yours in an impassioned embrace, your back braced against the pebbledashed wall of the house, the embers of the party slowly dying inside. Aemond’s fire roared brightly, the flames of passion swelling in his eyes.
You moved in tandem in a messy celebration of limbs and spit, neither one of you cognisant of your surroundings, both oblivious to the position of your feet as you danced in passionate unison. Your steps were clumsy as Aemond flung you from wall to wall, your back taking the brunt of his zealous maneuvers. He was a man possessed by desire, but there was something far darker driving his insatiable lust, something you’d very quickly be confronted with, face to face.
In a whirlwind of tangled limbs and blundering footsteps, you managed to lose your footing and your grip on your boyfriend's muscular frame somehow. You stumbled in the dark, losing your balance over something dense on the ground. Tumbling forwards without anything to grip onto, your knees immediately hit the damp earth, taking the brunt of the fall. They squelched into some wet mud, no doubt ruining your favourite dress, but other than that, only your pride was hurt. It was only when you stood up and inspected your hands under the dim flickering light over the back door that you realised it was more than mud; it was thick and sticky, coagulated into revolting globules.
Under the warm, fading light of a lone bulb, you saw your hands covered in a deep crimson substance, which you quickly recognised as blood - even under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol. It wasn’t an illusion, your mind wasn’t playing tricks. It dripped from your fingers into the earth below your feet, staining the ground as it fell. You cast your gaze towards the object that hindered your steps in the dark, and immediately noticed a pale hand dislodged from the mess of grass and sodden muck. Earth encrusted digits led your eyes towards a face, ghostly and drained of life, smothered and half-buried in the damp soil. Two vacant eyes stared into the night, their colour leeched from their place, a result of a throat slashed, and left to drain the contents of his body into the earth below. His body had been mercilessly butchered, cast aside into the mud, and left to rot under the watchful gaze of the moon. Left to the elements, as if nothing more than rubbish. Though you didn’t recognise his face, reality quickly set in.
A blood-curdling scream bubbled up from your lungs, spurting from two kiss-swollen lips, before being quickly silenced by a large hand. The sound didn’t even get the chance to echo into the night before the man you loved grabbed you and gripped your skin so hard it was sure to bruise. Aemond had wrapped himself around you again, one hand clasped around your mouth, the other holding your waist tight. “Shh,” he hissed in your ear, as if the shock would subside on command, as if you'd not just stumbled across a fucking dead body at a party. What was his name? His face looked familiar, but so pallid and pale, with his skin reflecting the bitter chill of death, you couldn't quite tell who it belonged to.
“Sshhhhh…I couldn’t just let his eyes defile you, I had to teach him a lesson...see” he teased, while sniffing at your neck. The hand around your mouth directed your gaze downwards once more, as if looking upon the icy cold flesh of a dead man once wasn’t enough. No, you were forced to look upon a man you scarcely knew, but who had the audacity to look in your direction just a minute too long for Aemond’s liking. You wriggled under his grasp, desperate to run away, to find an escape from his clutches. “That's insane, why? Why would you kill him for simply looking at me? You know I only have eyes for you, Aem, but this…this is nuts..”
“You belong to me,” he murmured, the words serving as both a promise and a sure threat. “And I do. not. share.” His voice rumbled against your skin, vibrating through your bones and settling deep within you. Those words, staccato against the cold night air, each consonant emphasised, would be imprinted in your psyche, committed to memory in flesh…if you survived the night that is. His eyes sparkled with something close to amusement. You’d never seen this side of your boyfriend before, a whole new person emerged from behind those eyes. One who relished in danger, who delighted in inflicting fear. He revelled in the terror he caused, drank in every drop of panic pouring from your face. It seemed a switch had flipped in Aemond, where once was Jekyll, now shone Hyde. He’d become the monster, the bump in the night. Where once lay affection, deep seated and genuine, his eyes now only reflected his delight in your terror. They were devoid of any true emotion, any connection you once shared, if you indeed ever did, was now replaced by sheer derision and ridicule.
“I will make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
Every word emphasised by sharp sibilance, every consonant harsh and unexpectedly aggressive. You loved Aemond’s voice once, only minutes earlier infact, each rumbling low note and how he could command with such minimal effort. Yet with one sentence, he managed to erase any trace of love, and instead instill fear; chilling you to the bone with words alone, whispered into the crisp night air. Despite the chill running through your veins, nipping at your skin and drawing goosebumps to the surface of your flesh at Aemond’s cold glare, and despite the corpse lying mere inches from your feet, that one line was enough to stir something within you.
The thought of Aemond taking you in the open air, claiming your body with cold steel pressed against your skin, although wicked and slightly deranged, forced a need you never knew you had to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps deep down, you always knew who he was, perhaps you liked his possessive nature, his forceful and domineering personality. As reserved and well tempered as he was, it always lingered just beneath the surface, waiting to rear its head. Something in his voice let you know he meant it, let you know that you weren’t getting out of this house without him utterly claiming you, flesh and bone.
The rest of the world melted away as he pulled you closer, constricting his arms around your chest like a python. The party slipped into the darkness, clouded by dizziness and fear. All you could hear was the sound of your breath, as it was squeezed from your lungs, right before Aemond released his grip and allowed you to draw air once more. It was all a game, your life a frivolity. Even still, you couldn’t help but let arousal wash over you. Arousal mixed with fear proved to be an intoxicating combination, a drug you had never experienced before.
Seeing that glimmer, that faint light in your eyes as he laid claim to your body, Aemond was emboldened to push onwards, to find his pleasure in a body willing, pliable, and waiting in his grip. Yet he needed to know just how far he could push, just how much he could take from you before you’d recoil in disgust. He needed to know just how far he could push you before you’d break. Delving one hand slowly into his jacket pocket, Aemond withdrew a knife, its handle settling into the curve of his deft hand. Even in the dying light, its blade danced and glittered, shining menacingly against the blackness. Your eyes widened, yet you didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe against the shining silver he drew to your pale flesh.
With a sharp knife to the throat, the steel pressing against your delicate flesh, you trembled beneath its pointed blade. Aemond tested your mettle, pressing it hard enough to break the skin and draw a minuscule drop of blood to the blade. A hiss escaped your lips, swallowed quickly by Aemond’s plump mouth. No sooner had you made a sound, he wrapped his pouting lips around yours, taking his pleasure from your pain. He’d never given you cause to be afraid before, but now, with hardened steel slicing at your throat, and a sparkle you’d never seen before gracing his natural eye, Aemond looked every bit the villain. “I never took you for a sadist…but you seem to be enjoying this a little too much..”
“There's a lot you don't know about me, darling.” he whispered, a menacing smirk creasing the pale skin of his perfectly chiselled face. Despite the hairs at the back of your neck standing on edge, and your nervous system all of a sudden plunged into a state of fight or flight, you couldn’t help but succumb to the wiles of this perfectly handsome man. Even with his flaws and his newfound savagery, your body ached to feel him, to feel his warmth and that deliciously familiar sting as he ravaged your body.
The driving bassline of ‘Psycho Killer’ thumped through the brick walls, a fitting soundtrack for Aemond’s mindless ravaging of your helpless frame. There was nothing you could do to stop him in this moment, nothing you could do to escape…but if you were truthful with yourself, you really didn’t want to. Even with fear licking at the edges, your nerves pulsing in time with the groovy bassline thundering through the concrete walls, you abandoned all reasonable judgement in favour of potential pleasure. You lapped up his undivided attention, his utterly deranged attempts at securing your affections. And no matter how much your mind sought to escape his greedy clutches, how desperately a rational part of you wanted to flee, another part of you craved Aemond’s touch, no matter the circumstances, no matter how grim your surroundings may have been. Your body instinctively knew how crazy he was for you, how deeply he craved the comfort of your flesh, and how he’d kill to keep you all to himself. A part of you loved it; a voice that sounded when his hands roamed your body, all controlling and all enveloping. And now it was that part of you that drove you further into his embrace, that relinquished control of your flesh to his greedy hands. As you closed your eyes and shut the world out, you could only feel his slender fingers worshipping your body, every touch a prayer to your depraved soul. They traced a path through your skin, gripping at every inch as if his hands could strip it from your bones. It wasn’t long before you felt the evidence of his appetite pulsing against you, a thick bulge caressing your abdomen, searching for friction and warmth, searching for its target.
In a flurry of raw passion and craze-fuelled lust, Aemond’s hands flew to your head, grasping your hair at the root and tugging at it until your scalp throbbed; an undeniable stinging sensation that forced you to do its bidding. He pushed you down, your knees once more hitting the blood sodden earth. Once again, your eyes fell on the dead body lying only inches from you, yet Aemond forced your eyes upwards, tugging at your hair until he had your undivided attention.
It was obvious what he wanted, and he knew just how to make you squirm while getting it. Before long, his cock had sprung free of its tight denim prison and hung heavy before your face.
You could never quite grasp how well endowed he was for a petite man. It seemed so disproportionate to his body, yet you never once complained, except for the moments in that initial intrusion of course. The crisp night air nipped at the delicate skin. It was this cold air that only intensified the pleasure when your lips wrapped around his shaft, when the warmth of your mouth enveloped his cock, drawing him into your throat as far as you were physically able. His hips immediately chased a rhythm which mirrored the music from the other side of the wall, pistoning relentlessly, pounding your throat, causing you to gag and choke around him. There was no time to tease, no time to accommodate his size in your throat. Yet he didn’t let you move. His fingers flexed at your scalp, coaxing your mouth deeper still. The pain prickled, a sharp stinging sensation, yet it was dulled by the force of his merciless thrusts. His hips kept up an unforgiving pace, chasing a release that all too quickly approached.
Before long, your throat was painted by his unending supply of semen, as unrelenting and demanding as the tempo of his hips against your jaw. You greedily swallowed each and every drop, milking his cock with hollowed cheeks. He was stunned at your veracious appetite for his cum, the haze of orgasm washing heavily over his tired eyes, yet you kept up your enthusiastic pursuits. Even after release, Aemond stayed rock hard. His solid phallus throbbed in your mouth, veins pulsating against the muscle of your tongue even as he pulled out and let it rest on the tip, the protruding vasculature quivering against the warmth of your lips. The thought of ruining your cunt as one of his victims lay alongside you had him ready almost immediately, every inch of his body thrumming at the prospect. To see the woman he craved and the man he so furiously butchered laying side by side became part of the fantasy, part of the game.
The fear present in your eyes, mixed with a shameful desire for what he had to offer only spurred his arousal, the war raging in your mind between sheer terror and a desire for absolute pleasure evident in tear-stained eyelids. Your mascara had run down your cheeks, painting your face as it fell. Aemond admired his work, yet he was only getting started. His desire to ruin you, to take exactly what he wanted from your pretty cunt and have you fall apart around him was titillating.
For months, he watched you play the part of the dutiful girlfriend, yet you entertained lustful stares from random men. Holding their leering gazes across a room. It was a shame, but he simply had to punish you, to mark you as his own. If you didn't submit, if you wouldn't behave…well..Killing you was never part of the plan, but his blade was thirsty, and brats must be shown the error of their ways. Perhaps he'd show some mercy if you were good.
His hands remained interwoven with your scalp, fingers tugging at the roots tightly to keep you in line. The sting provided a sharp reminder that your boyfriend had in fact killed a man, who laid face down in the dirt only inches from your feet. Yet you couldn’t help the heat of arousal building with every tug. As Aemond dragged you from your knees to your feet, pulling you tight to his chest before spinning you around and pinning you against the wall, the coil in your core grew increasingly tight. He didn’t even have to fuck you to make you a quivering mess beneath him. Any trace of fear left seemed to leak down your leg with evidence of your arousal. Your face grazed the pebbledash finish on the side of the house, but it wasn’t long before he forcefully arched your back, pulling your head backwards by the hair and pressing your cunt against his tumescent cock. He didn’t even need to undress you; he had easy access once your panties were pushed aside. Aemond loved it when you wore such short dresses; he fantasised about moments like this. Your underwear was sodden, you didn’t even need to be touched to be ready for Aemond’s intrusion into your body. “Hm,” he snickered, that knowing smirk plastered firmly onto his chiselled face. It was amusement, laced with derision and mocking, something completely foreign to your ears from a man you only knew as loving, though truthfully, you had clearly ignored many aspects of his personality, perhaps you saw it and ignored it in favour of his more amorous qualities. Desire can cloud judgement, and you’d definitely misjudged Aemond.
He took full advantage of the ample lubrication. Nudging the folds of your cunt with his spongey pink tip, he tilted his hips and found the right angle so that he could easily plough into you with devastating effect. In one swift motion, Aemond speared your cunt with his impressively thick cock. Another ear-splitting scream left your lips, this time caused by the force of being impaled by your boyfriend's egregiously large penis rather than a corpse scaring the life out of you. Usually, he gave you time to adjust, inched his way in, and let your walls stretch to accommodate his size, but tonight he saw fit to punish you, to brutally defile your body as he saw fit. Perhaps it was retribution for letting your eyes linger on another longer than appropriate, perhaps this was bubbling within him for a long time. He didn’t stifle your screams this time, he let them ring out for everyone to hear.
Time passed in a blur, your body no more than a vessel for containing Aemond’s rage. You were pinned against the wall by his veined forearms, blood pumping through his body with the exertion. You could do little to adjust to his onslaught, your body didn’t have time to get used to the feeling. His sharp hips pistoned against the plump curve of your arse, the sound of skin slapping echoing out into the hollow night. You knew you’d be bruised, your skin would bear the mottled remnants of his anger for days, stained with multicoloured blotches. You let your mind wander, settling into the thick fog of pain and numbness. It’d be over in just a minute, with the pace Aemond had set; he was sure to come undone quite quickly. There was no restraining raw, animalistic desire and his was on full display. Eventually, the pain of his forceful penetration dulled, the sharp sting muted, and all too soon you felt the familiar coil settle in your core. You knew there’d be no relief, yet you allowed yourself to hope, to picture the sweet release that could come, if he was merciful.
This wasn’t reminiscent of any other time you’d fucked, any other time he used your body for his pleasure. There was no love present here, no affection, only crude carnal desire. Raw, unfiltered, tainted with ego and testosterone. Pure adrenaline coursed through his system, driving each callous thrust. There was no hint of gentility in his movements, no trace of the man you’d once made love to. This monster chased his own high, using your flesh as he saw fit. Your skin would bear the evidence; it’d remind you of this night even when the memory dulled. Even when the haze of potential pleasure clouded your recall of his brutality. Mottled bruising would stain the surface, remind you of the sudden appearance of this alter ego, this second self Aemond had long hidden. A bloodthirsty creature that lingered underneath the surface, and reared its head when jealousy spilled over. Considering the alternative, being used as no more than a fleshlight was a preferable outcome. Considering the violence you’d seen at his hand, the body that day in the dirt as a result of his rage, being used for his sexual release was the least egregious path.
Yet, even though your mind knew all this was wrong, that you were upset and betrayed, that you wanted the gentle man you loved back, you couldn’t deny the physical response your body had to being so roughly handled. You couldn’t deny the burning between your legs, the ever tightening coil as his cock ravaged your cunt. And though your mind had slightly more trouble overcoming the whole jealous rage-murder-thing, your body seemed more than capable of withstanding each revenge fuelled thrust, each slap of skin and bone against your delicate flesh. Even the sound of his pale skin smacking against yours drew goosebumps to the surface and sent a fresh shiver through your bones. You knew you’d fall apart around him soon. The question was, would he find his high before your banks burst around him?
Aemond certainly wasn’t shy about making noise, letting his guttural grunts ring out into the night. He didn’t care who heard, he didn’t care who witnessed the punishment he inflicted upon you for casting your eyes towards another. He watched your body swallow his cock, over and over, as his hips kept up their punitive pace. Somehow, the sight of his cock disappearing into your body, sheathed within such warmth, it pulled emotion from him that he never knew he had. He didn’t think he was capable of forgiveness, of being anything but cold and vengeful. Yet this seemed like a fitting punishment for you, taking his length over and over, taking him so deeply into your body that he felt the very essence of you coming apart around him. The moonlight danced on your juices, which coated his cock from tip to base. It was mesmerising, hypnotising, evidence of your arousal and devotion, even under such gruelling circumstances. Aemond felt the familiar flutter of your walls around his shaft, the telltale sign that you were on the precipice of release. Yet you held yourself together, you held your peak back. And he would drag you there, he’d show you just how merciful a violent man could be, with the evidence of his passion staring at them from the cold ground.
Aemond’s change of heart was sudden and rather shocking. Instead of verbalising his ideas, instead of communicating, he halted his brutal assault all at once, pulling his pants up around shaking knees and leaving you empty, without warning or any thought for your building pleasure.
You just stood, in a state of shock and right on the edge of release, desperate for relief, when it stood tantalisingly close. He hadn’t finished, he didn't even wipe himself off, he just…stopped. And before you could comprehend why, Aemond’s hand found the nape of your neck. His grip was tight, consuming, his touch like tongues of flame against the contrasting chill of the night air, yet he didn’t grab tight enough to cause you pain. Just to bend you to his will, to let you know that you belonged to him, and him alone.
He pulled you into the warmth of the house once without a word, ignoring the sheen of sweat on your brow, and the red hot flush that burned beneath your skin from his efforts. As you walked through sticky swathes of drunken people, you kept your eyes trained on the beer stained floor, hoping that nobody would notice your disheveled state. The crowd were too engrossed in their bottles to notice, but you were certain everyone had heard your lurid activities outside, even above the din of the playlist that blasted through crackling speakers in the living room. Approaching the one person you knew would miss your presence, you said a quiet goodbye to Helaena before disappearing through the sea of inebriated bodies, into the ink-black night with Aemond guiding your way. His hands gripped your spine like a vice, directing every step, controlling the depth and pace of every breath you took. Yet there was something oddly freeing about it. Something strangely comforting about removing your autonomy and giving complete control to this unhinged human.
He controlled your every move, even when his hands weren’t on your body. You felt his red hot stare lingering as he rounded the bonnet, making his way to the driver door.
The dark leather creaked as he sank into the plush seat, the material shifting under his weight, accommodating and molding to his shape as he settled into it. It gave way to him like clay, fitting to his svelte yet strangely dense and muscular form. He didn't reach for the radio, didn't force small talk where it wasn't needed. From the minute the key turned in the ignition, Aemond had you right where he wanted you; unsatisfied and on the edge of reason. He left you empty and confused, waiting on tenterhooks for his next move.
As he steered into the night, with only the glow of the headlights shining against the tarmac, his hand moved to rest on your thigh, long fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving crescent shapes in their wake. He may as well have branded you, his touch felt like flames nipping at your skin. Not once did that hand leave your thigh, not once did he lift his fingers from their resting place.
Each squeeze made your breath hitch in your chest, each time getting a little tighter, pinching the skin just a little more. You knew there was a chance those marks would be permanent, scars to remind you exactly who you belonged to, like a tattoo carved into flesh.
Passing streetlights illuminated the smirk permanently painted onto his face. The pale glow from the outside glinted off of his prosthetic eye, catching the sapphire hue and somehow making Aemond look even more menacing. Each flickering bulb formed a rhythm; you found yourself tapping your fingers to the beat of each one as it whizzed by. Perhaps it was a way to distract from the sting of nails digging into your thigh muscle, perhaps it was a coping mechanism - a way to make sense of all that had happened tonight, and all that was sure to come in the early hours of morning. Despite the pleasure you were denied, and the lingering ache within you from Aemond's onslaught, you couldn't help but recall the horrors you had seen also.
You’d left that man lying face down in the dirt. Would he be found by some other drunken soul, stumbling over his chilled corpse as they sparked up a cigarette? Wound someone find out who had led him to his inevitable death?
The torturous silence stretched into the night, the only sound underneath that metal roof were the mingled hushed tones of your combined breaths.
No door could contain Aemond's fervour, no barrier of wood could keep him from his plans. As soon as his feet crossed the threshold, he pulled you down the hall, pulling you into the bathroom hastily. He didn't verbalise his carefully crafted plans, he never once let you know where his mind was going, you simply followed wordlessly, accepting your fate as it came.
You certainly didn't expect plump lips to meet your own in an unusually passionate embrace, before backing you into the shower, still fully clothed. You didn't question it, but your eyes clearly communicated your confusion, ad Aemond answered with a familiar cheeky grin.
His hand reached behind you, releasing the water from its chamber. It was hot, like fire in liquid form. Like dragon fire, tongues of flame licked at the surface of your skin. Aemond didn't seem to notice, it didn't seem to faze him, and immediately crowded around you, backing you against the glass wall. He had less grip under the running water, his hands couldn’t get purchase on your skin. Clawing hands slipped under the flow of running water, yet that didn't hinder his frenzied actions.
He crowded you against the glass, held your body tightly with one hand, while the other wandered to the slick column of your throat. Nimble fingers wrapped around delicate skin, pressing slightly on either side. Just enough to remind you of his power, just enough to keep you malleable under his touch.
He’d already punished you that night, taken his anger and malice out thoroughly on your pliant cunt. So instead of abusing his power and alienating the one good thing he had, he decided to incentivise good behaviour. To show you he could be the devoted man you thought he was, as well as the one you found tonight. To keep you truly under his thumb, he needed to be merciful as well as vengeful. Besides, it was fun to watch you fall apart under his touch, to watch your eyes roll back in your head as his body brought you immense pleasure. Dropping to his knees, Aemond hooked one of your thighs over his shoulder as you braced yourself against the glass, eyes widening with each surprising development. You could scarcely believe the vision before you, it was a shocking u-turn, a swift pivot back to the passionate, tender man you called yours only hours earlier, though that sharp edge remained. The man you thought you knew so well was not lost, merely buried beneath the thin veil of a monster. You just let it happen, not daring to question his intentions, not daring to interrupt.
A hot tongue darted from his jaw, catching the falling water on its rough surface before plunging to its purpose. His jutting chin nuzzled between your legs, his pointed nose angled slightly upwards to stimulate your sensitive clit. Aemond knew what he was doing, he always did, but this night he set about devouring you with renewed purpose and surprising enthusiasm. One dazzlingly blue eye peered up at you from between your folds. He seemed to know just where to apply pressure, how to stimulate the most sensitive spots that would make you melt into his mouth. He was still the man who devoured you at every turn, who took pleasure in pleasuring you. But this time seemed different, this time he seemed determined to watch you come undone, to assert dominance in the most unlikely of positions. Every breath, every sweet exclamation and high pitched whine only fed his ego further. You were truly and devastatingly under his thumb, and you knew it. With one swipe of his tongue, you’d fallen into his trap. There was no escaping it now.
So instead of fighting the pleasure that welled deep within, that wrung tighter with each lapping sweep of his textured tongue you gave yourself over to it. You resigned yourself to the duality of his wanton violence, to his murderous tendencies and slightly insane possessive nature, with the man that knelt before you, the one you'd fallen for. You even allowed yourself to enjoy it, to lose yourself in it and lap up each and every ounce of tainted love Aemond deemed fit to give.
Even over the patter of running water, your exclamations of ecstasy echoed between the thick glass panes keeping you aloft. Your knees had long buckled beneath your tired frame, you were only kept upright by Aemond's strong shoulders and one solid sheet of glass behind your back.
It wasn't long before you found the pleasure you were earlier denied in a warm supping tongue, ravaging your cunt as if it’d never taste your flesh again. As if your skin contained the sweetest of nectar, a delicacy Aemond sought out most fervently.
It was merely minutes before you were spilling into the open caverns of his mouth, your body succumbing to his expert ministrations, seceding its battle with guilt and fear to an overwhelming blanket of ecstasy. Aemond sucked every drop from your dripping cunt, licked and sucked your swollen clit long past the point of release, until he had you writhing around his head, begging for relief from the almost painful overstimulation. It was only then, as your pleading rang in his ears, that Aemond finally relinquished his efforts, and made his way back up your body, to share his reward with your waiting mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his searing kiss. He claimed every inch of you, everything you had was his.
And now, as he gave you everything you wanted, you were more than willing to succumb to his every whim.
Though when the haze of pleasure wore off, when the coil in your gut had been let loose and you could think clearly, your mind reeled, remembering every gory detail the night held.
You were truly stuck, wedged firmly under his thumb, and Aemond knew exactly how to keep you pliant and willing, he knew exactly how much your body yearned for his hands, how you couldn’t possibly resist the call of his body, even when your mind fought to escape.
The next morning, knuckles rapped on sagging wood that could tell a multitude of stories. Glazed eyes opened the door to reveal local police, investigating a missing person's report.
The man without a name, the corpse in the cold, who everyone assumed had Irish goodbyed, never made it home. Yet another young man in recent weeks who never graced their own front doors again, who disappeared without a trace. His body had been discovered tossed onto the side of a blackened road, far from anyone who loved him, or even knew his name. His roommates called it in, knowing he was supposed to walk home that night. They knew he'd never stay out, never leave his cat unattended without saying anything. It was out of character for him to stay out without so much as a text, or posting about his night. They knew something was very wrong when he didn’t grace their flat by 4am, and they raised the alarm.
Two level headed cops interviewed every hungover face in that living room, every person that stayed and slept where they stood. As expected, memories were foggy, clouded by alcohol and recreational drugs, now wreaking havoc on tired bodies. Yet despite hazy recollections of that night, Aemond’s name came up a few times for having disappeared throughout the night. Sore heads and cloudy memories all pointed to Aemond as acting suspiciously, though nobody outrightly suspected him of being a killer. A few names graced tired lips, a few people who had left early, some who had a reputation for trouble, some who were known to disappear without saying anything. Yet it was Aemond that drew attention, it was him that stuck in the clouded minds of everyone who attended that night.
It wasn’t long before trouble graced your doorstep, the hollow sound of knuckles knocking at your door stirring you from sleep, and bringing you out into the hallway. You were groggy, moving slowly, but you heard someone at the door. Aemond was already up, and had answered the front door clad in nothing but his boxers. To some it might have been seen as pure laziness, you knew better. You knew that the sight of his sculpted body would throw off whoever was on the other side of that door, knocking at an ungodly hour as a migraine rattled through your brain. You could barely hear what they were saying from your perch atop the stairs, but you did hear several questions being asked, and so out of curiosity, you wandered to the landing to get a better view. It was the police. Shit.
Every morose detail came flooding back to you, in grotesque clarity. The blood, his face under the pale moonlight, the wound that spanned the breadth of his neck. The violence and brutality of it all. You’d honestly forgotten most of it, the vivid details were diluted by alcohol and knocked loose by Aemond’s bipolar behaviour afterwards. But seeing two officers in uniform grace your apartment door brought it all back, including the overwhelming sense of horror. It was all you could do to run to the bathroom and rid yourself of the guilt before someone spotted you.
After you’d expelled your guilt into the porcelain bowl, washing your face with cold water and tidying yourself up to the best of your ability, you decided to join Aemond downstairs. It was better than hiding. You only caught part of the conversation, and even as you descended the stairs, you heard pointed voices echoing in condescending tones.
“You’re not in any trouble,” one of them said kindly, ‘the good cop,’ Aemond thought distastefully, though he didn’t for one second let his face reflect his true thoughts. “Right now we’re just following some lines of inquiry and your name has come up a lot.”
Another, more stern voice chimed in quickly after. “Seems enough people were concerned about your disappearing acts on the night in question that they thought it worthwhile mentioning.”
“Am I under arrest, officers?” he sighed, almost bored at their probing line of questioning. You cringed at his blatant display of ego, you knew that this alter Aemond was different, somewhat maniacal but you never thought what would happen when he was confronted with true authority. Even still, you made your way over to them and stood by his side, giving a polite nod to the officers.
“Well that depends son, you have anyone else that can account for your whereabouts on the night, anybody who can solidly swear they were with you the entire time?”
Silence. He looked to the side, throwing his eyes in your direction, slightly confused, but also betrayed by your hesitance.
Aemond deflated, he thought of the fear in your eyes when you'd discovered the true depths of his depravity last night, the look of betrayal when he’d pressed the metal of his blade to your skin and watched the trickle of blood there. Somehow he expected obedience.
“I will make sure you never forget who you belong to,” he’d said at the time and he’d hoped his actions last night were enough to enforce upon you that no matter what happened now: no cuffs, bars or barbed-wired fences would ever change the fact that he had killed and would kill again to remind you of this fact.
“That’s what I thought..” the tougher cop smirked after a few moments of uneasy, weighted silence, “Aemond Targaryen you are under-”
Realising the opportunity before you, seeing your chance at escape from this dire situation of your own making, you kept your mouth firmly shut. You never anticipated just how viscerally your body would react to the jingling of handcuffs though, the cold metal struck a chord within you, pulling something along the lines of guilt and sending a feeling akin to pity bubbling to the surface. Your resolution to stay silent broke in a matter of seconds, your steel will crumbling before you could stop yourself.
Just as he was about to be placed in cuffs, his eyes locked with yours once more and disappointment turned to rage in an instant. There was no pleading to be found there, just a look, a look that made your stomach clench and the words were wrenched from you before you even had time to think. One glance from dazzlingly blue eyes was all it took for the words to come tumbling from your lips. "He was with me all night” you blurted and the cop stopped mid arrest-speech. You regretted it as soon as you heard the words form in the air before you, but it was too late. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at you in a way that made you feel small and far too bare. You had given Aemond a way out, an escape from a fate he truly deserved.
“All night you say?” he asked, tone mocking and you were nodding wide-eyed and heart racing.
“And you would be willing to swear that before a judge now would you sweetheart?”
Something about his mocking tone, or his condescending use of the word sweetheart had you bridling and you stuck your chin out stubbornly.
“I’ll swear it to anyone you want me to, he never left my sight all night. I can even go into the details of what exactly we were doing when we ‘disappeared’ each time if you’d like.”
‘That’s my girl’, Aemond thought as the police officer was forced to unclasp the bracelets from his narrow wrists and he grinned knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. You’d had your chance to escape him, and now he knew resolutely that you were lovestruck, even in the face of everything you’d seen and he had you undeniably stuck, under his thumb.
With an alibi now firmly in place they had no choice but to take your statements and be on their way, any hope they had of pinning it on Aemond dissipated with your sworn statement and their demeanour toward him completely changed.
Aemond himself had switched into charming mode, you’d seen it a thousand times before, you had yourself been victim to it, but it still scared you how easily he slipped into it and how capable he was of making people believe him and bend to his will.
“Whoever the killer’s after, I'm glad they have you guys to protect them” Aemond uttered to the retreating police, flashing a fake smile their way before turning his back.
“City’s finest…” he whispered under his breath, as they walked in the opposite direction, leaving you to a fate of your own making. As he pushed past you, once more entering the cosy apartment, Aemond whispered a final sentence that made your blood run cold at the utterance.
“You can't run from who you are baby ..none of us can”
Taglist: (no pressure) @volklana @thenameswinter99 @suntizme @zaldritzosrose @dreamilypurplepillar
TW: Murder, explicit smut, erotophonophilia (deriving sexual excitement from killing), face fucking, manipulation & slight stockholm syndrome..overall he’s not a good dude.
Thanks to the lovely @volklana for collaborating with me on this! And always being such a fantastic support 🖤 and @mintwrit3z for beta reading.
Word count: 9.6k
There’s something about the quiet reflection of smoking alone, while a party rages on behind thick concrete walls, that you’d always found incredibly relaxing. Your focus lay solely on your breath and the object balanced delicately between your fingertips. For a few short moments, it seemed like it was just you and the night, in silent communication.
Autumn was your favourite time of year. Crisp, cold nights and fresh days with the sun dipping lower in the sky. You felt the magic of this season hanging heavy in the night air, it was as if it spoke to you. Perhaps it was because you were born in autumn, perhaps it was the mystical nature of the season. The veil between the worlds was thinner, and as Halloween approached, you felt the subtle shift in the elements. Taking a large lungful of smoke, you communed with the darkness, enjoying a brief moment of peace in a night full of frivolity and alcohol fuelled debauchery. But the black night shrouded all manner of sins from your eyes, and in that moment, your only focus was on the glowing embers dying at the tip of your cigarette. You had no idea what horrors lingered in the shadows, what terror lay only inches from your feet.
With your back propped up against the heavy wooden door, music boomed from inside, penetrating the thick oak slab behind your head, yet your mind was caught in a thick fog. The night air was cool, your breath and smoke mingling in the frigidity around you. For once, you weren’t overthinking how you looked or dissecting a conversation you just had. For a brief few minutes, you had true calm descend over you in the form of cold evening air and invigorating substances in smokable form. That is, until the door swung open, sending you hurtling into two veined arms that quickly righted you upright and encapsulated your torso.
“Jesus…shit…you scared me…”
Your asshole of a boyfriend simply laughed, a rumbling display of amusement spurred on by your skittish reaction. He simply nuzzled his chin into your neck, huffing in delight against the delicate skin and inhaling a nosefull of your scent.
“What's the matter, baby? You look like you've seen a ghost..”
“Aem, quit it, you know I'm normally not scared so easily” you scowled, your face painted with fake displeasure. Though you couldn’t help but squeal as his hands wandered your sides, hitting every ticklish spot on their way, breaking your face into unrestrained smiles. Aemond was always incredibly handsy, though as touch starved as you were, you never complained. You loved getting attention from the prettiest man you’d ever encountered, you felt blessed to have his hands roaming your flesh, his good eye trained on you and only you.
You'd only been together a few months, and though the relationship was relatively fresh, you'd fallen…hard.
Aemond was unconventionally attractive. His face, though it looked like it had been carved from pale white marble, was marred by blanched pink scars, which spanned the length of his right cheek. One eye had been damaged in an accident as a kid, so in its place sat a prosthetic painted in the most dazzling shade of sapphire blue. Somehow, it only added to his ethereal nature, never detracting from his unusual beauty. That, alongside an entirely black wardrobe consisting mostly of band shirts and leather, complimented his stunning features. He was a man of great contrast, his look most striking, while his personality was more reserved. He was the most captivating, yet troubled young man you'd ever laid eyes on, and you couldn't help but fall face first into quite an intense entanglement after being introduced.
Aemond was always the most attentive partner, always paying heed to even the smallest details. He noticed things most boyfriends would completely ignore: changes in your expression & body language, slight shifts in your mood, and he always anticipated your needs before you’d even have to ask. When you were around friends, Aemond’s hands stayed connected to your skin at all times, holding your hand, tracing delicate patterns against the back of your palm, or running his spindly fingers along the column of your neck. His eye would always be on you, following you around the room. In private, he was even more impassioned. He loved feeling your body pressed against him, the warmth of your flesh against his own. Instead of psychoanalysing these slightly possessive traits, you leaned into them, rivalling his intensity with your own eccentricities. You were a rather odd, but well balanced match.
On this night, as you stood in the dark, your face only highlighted by the glow of your cigarette, Aemond took advantage of the privacy the shadows afforded and peppered your neck with kisses, pulling you tightly against his chest as you stood resolutely, facing into the black night. You loved how needy he was, but also domineering in equal measure. He never used those sculpted muscles against you, except to further your pleasure, to satisfy you in every way you desired. And now he cuddled you against the cold, sheltered you from the chilled wind blowing through the trees. “It’s such a nice night out…you thirsty baby?” his warm breath vibrated against your skin. He extended a hand out, a chilled beer bottle grasped between several graceful fingers. Even the sight of them made you shiver, though that could’ve also been the bitter breeze swirling around your ankles. “Thank Aem, I'm parched.” You happily snatched the slim bottle from his hands, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary against his digits, which earned a smirk, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as the fermented amber liquid ran down your throat. The familiar quenching of thirst came with a promise in itself, you could see the hints of mischief present in his smile.
In return for his generosity, you extended a frigid hand, the end of your cigarette blooming between your dainty fingers. He didn’t even need to say anything; instead, Aemond leaned down, wrapping his plump lips around the thin paper. One sharp inhale and his body filled with an addicting sense of elation, one he sought out in other avenues of life. He found it touching your body, pulling you close, and feeling each curve and valley of your perfectly sculpted frame under his fingertips. He found it in coaxing those pretty mewls from your lips, a soundtrack he’d gladly play on repeat. Yet there was always the pull towards something darker, something a little more… taboo.
As he stood with you in that doorway, the swell of your arse pressed against his quickly growing bulge, Aemond realised that the evidence of his other, perhaps more niche hobbies lay only inches away, neatly tucked around the shadowy corner.
It was only sheer luck that you hadn’t noticed a pool of sticky crimson blood inching across the damp mud, crawling towards your feet - but the night had long descended, the sun had fallen from the sky, replaced by the heavy blackness of an autumn night. The dark provided cover for his lurid savagery, shrouding the horrors from your sight.
With one drag, Aemond filled his lungs with the delicious sting of nicotine. There was only one languid last puff left, one draw of the bitter nectar he so often craved. With a sharp exhale into the night, he dropped the butt of the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, the heel of his shoe squelching the dying embers into the damp earth. Not too far away, the mud was stained red with blood, a pool slowly forming beneath the corpse of a man who dared lay his beady eyes on you across a packed dancefloor earlier that same night.
Warm hands kept you pressed to his chest, pulled close to a heart beating softly beneath leather clad skin. In that darkened doorway with the man of your dreams hanging on your every breath, you found yourself smiling like an idiot. Your eyes were drawn to the curve of Aemond’s mouth as it encased the last of your cigarette. You marvelled at the swell of his cheeks as he billowed smoke into the crisp night air. He always stole your focus, captured your attention simply by existing. You were utterly entranced by his sharp, angular features. Such beauty in a man was rare, but he had both softness and a sharp edge, a traditional pretty boy look laced with danger and the added oddity of his disfigurements. He somehow appeared angelic and devilish in equal measure, an enigma wrapped in the most beautiful packaging. And as he held you against the frigid wind, the darkness encroaching on your romantic moment, you couldn't help but be completely taken with the man you called yours once more.
Yet the wind brought with it a certain anxiety, a subtle foreboding that settled in your mind. As he crushed the remains of your cigarette under his boot and pulled you tightly into his arms, sandwiching your body between his hardened chest and the wall, you utterly fell to his wiles, melting like butter under his smoldering gaze. You couldn't help but see a glint of mischief in that unyielding stare. As if he had a plan you were not yet privy to, but it was wrapped in warmth, in a certain affection that you sought out in every room.
Before long, strong hands dragged you from the chill of night and guided you back into a sea of drunken bodies, each one swaying to their own rhythm, some with the music, some following a tempo of their own design. Each one moved like a branch in the breeze. The intoxicating scent of liquor billowed from inebriated lungs, mouths that messily combined on the dance floor, swapping saliva and the lingering traces of whatever they'd been drinking. Bodies undulated like the tide, a swell of flesh to music, yet even that couldn't distract you from those dazzlingly blue eyes piercing into your flesh as his searing grip held on and led you across the crowded room. The atmosphere numbed any unease in your mind, the sense of frivolity and joy contagious. Even under the haze of alcohol, you felt Aemond’s eyes trained on you as he walked you through a sea of drunkards. Never once did you suspect distrust in your relationship, yet he kept his eyes on you as if you’d disappear into the night.
Instead of allowing you to wander into the haze of debauchery that surrounded you both, Aemond pulled you flush to him, and began to sway along with the other bodies in the pool.
His hands wandered to your hips, feeling in the dark for anywhere he could grasp onto. Moving in tandem with the pulsing rhythm, his hips were pinned against your own, undulating in time with one another. You allowed your mind to go blank, to exist solely in the moment with Aemond, his eyes as hypnotising as the thrumming beat over the speakers, the swell of want between his legs enough to send waves of desire through your body. It was almost intoxicating, surrendering to the music and the feeling of uninhibited bodies around you. It was a certain type of freedom, a complete departure from your regular life.
It took a while for people in their drunken stupor to notice that someone was missing, and inebriated people eventually tottered around the room in search of a man who’d never walk through those doors again. Aemond noticed the commotion, yet remained cool and collected, instead channeling his focus towards you, as your body mirrored the mindless drones around you, swaying in time with the music. He was never one to dance, usually opting to prop up the wall with a beer in hand instead, but he'd follow you anywhere, would do anything you asked. That included grinding on the dancefloor to the dulcet tones of ‘Don't Fear the Reaper’, well lubricated by several shots of whiskey beforehand. You'd have never realised that he also had an ulterior motive for his compliance. Participating in such a charade was a small price to pay, to keep certain secrets hidden.
It took several more minutes for you to notice the panicked faces wandering around the dance floor, yet the gravity of the situation didn't quite register, your mind had been swallowed by lust and alcohol. Lipsticked lips sloppily met Aemond’s warm cheek and you hurriedly dragged him by the hand over to a group where his sister had been standing. The music rumbled on, though you leaned into Helaena’s shoulder, whispering into her ear. “Hel, what's going on?”
Helaena shrugged, clearly too lost in her drink to comprehend the situation. “It's really weird, isn't it, to think this fuss is all because of you?”
You loved the bones of her, but she was scattered at the best of times, let alone when she had imbibed on her favourite beverages. Sometimes she simply made no sense and spoke words into the ether without any context at all. “I love you, Hel, but you make no sense sometimes..” you laughed, before returning to Aemond and snuggling into his waiting arms.
Gossip made its way around the room - unfounded words swirling in the mouths of drunk people like the ice clinking in their cups. Young men had been going missing in your neighbourhood the last few months, some turning up disfigured, some slashed and beaten beyond recognition. But all undeniably dead. It was enough to strike fear into the coldest of hearts, and Aemond hadn't left you out of his sight since. You found it strange, some names you’d even recognised, but they weren’t close friends, only people you’d encountered in passing. Friends of friends, faces you'd have recognised in social situations like tonight. A strange sense of foreboding settled in your gut, but the alcohol numbed any immediate reaction to the chatter, dulling your usually acute intuition.
Still, the atmosphere inside had changed, and despite something gnawing at your mind, a subtle warning sign that you pushed to the side, your immediate desires took control, and you pulled Aemond upstairs. To your chagrin, the bedrooms were already occupied, so you headed outside, perhaps the dark would shield you from prying eyes. It seemed Aemond had the same thought, his voice carrying above the din of some cheesy rock song, “Wanna play a game?” and he nodded in the direction of the back door, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.
Out in the dark with Aemond, despite the stinging chill in the air, you couldn’t keep your hands off him. The night provided adequate cover for your lewd activities, though at any moment someone could walk through the door and catch you in the act. Somehow, the danger made your boyfriend that much hotter, his perfectly sculpted body that much more irresistible. Only the stars were witnesses to your ravenous appetite, to the dip of your tongue into the warm caverns of Aemond’s mouth, exploring each other as if it were the first time. Those twinkling lights saw every grinding thrust of hips and wandering palm, searching for friction against a willing body.
The heat of his breath stung like frostbite, while the wind nipped at your cheek. Yet you only leaned into his warmth, you soaked up every ounce of affection this beautiful man bestowed upon you. You never imagined feeling so wanted, so seen. Aemond always made you feel like the only woman in his life, the only one he saw. His hands carved a path through skin, warm fingertips frantically grasping at flesh as if you’d soon disappear into the night, vanish like a puff of smoke beneath frenzied fingers.
He was always passionate, desperate to have you close, but in the biting darkness, he seemed more frenzied, less controlled than you’d seen him before, as if a fire burned within him that couldn’t be quenched. Or perhaps it was the whiskey. Either way, he was insatiable. His movements were messy, frantic. Plump lips captured yours in an impassioned embrace, your back braced against the pebbledashed wall of the house, the embers of the party slowly dying inside. Aemond’s fire roared brightly, the flames of passion swelling in his eyes.
You moved in tandem in a messy celebration of limbs and spit, neither one of you cognisant of your surroundings, both oblivious to the position of your feet as you danced in passionate unison. Your steps were clumsy as Aemond flung you from wall to wall, your back taking the brunt of his zealous maneuvers. He was a man possessed by desire, but there was something far darker driving his insatiable lust, something you’d very quickly be confronted with, face to face.
In a whirlwind of tangled limbs and blundering footsteps, you managed to lose your footing and your grip on your boyfriend's muscular frame somehow. You stumbled in the dark, losing your balance over something dense on the ground. Tumbling forwards without anything to grip onto, your knees immediately hit the damp earth, taking the brunt of the fall. They squelched into some wet mud, no doubt ruining your favourite dress, but other than that, only your pride was hurt. It was only when you stood up and inspected your hands under the dim flickering light over the back door that you realised it was more than mud; it was thick and sticky, coagulated into revolting globules.
Under the warm, fading light of a lone bulb, you saw your hands covered in a deep crimson substance, which you quickly recognised as blood - even under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol. It wasn’t an illusion, your mind wasn’t playing tricks. It dripped from your fingers into the earth below your feet, staining the ground as it fell. You cast your gaze towards the object that hindered your steps in the dark, and immediately noticed a pale hand dislodged from the mess of grass and sodden muck. Earth encrusted digits led your eyes towards a face, ghostly and drained of life, smothered and half-buried in the damp soil. Two vacant eyes stared into the night, their colour leeched from their place, a result of a throat slashed, and left to drain the contents of his body into the earth below. His body had been mercilessly butchered, cast aside into the mud, and left to rot under the watchful gaze of the moon. Left to the elements, as if nothing more than rubbish. Though you didn’t recognise his face, reality quickly set in.
A blood-curdling scream bubbled up from your lungs, spurting from two kiss-swollen lips, before being quickly silenced by a large hand. The sound didn’t even get the chance to echo into the night before the man you loved grabbed you and gripped your skin so hard it was sure to bruise. Aemond had wrapped himself around you again, one hand clasped around your mouth, the other holding your waist tight. “Shh,” he hissed in your ear, as if the shock would subside on command, as if you'd not just stumbled across a fucking dead body at a party. What was his name? His face looked familiar, but so pallid and pale, with his skin reflecting the bitter chill of death, you couldn't quite tell who it belonged to.
“Sshhhhh…I couldn’t just let his eyes defile you, I had to teach him a lesson...see” he teased, while sniffing at your neck. The hand around your mouth directed your gaze downwards once more, as if looking upon the icy cold flesh of a dead man once wasn’t enough. No, you were forced to look upon a man you scarcely knew, but who had the audacity to look in your direction just a minute too long for Aemond’s liking. You wriggled under his grasp, desperate to run away, to find an escape from his clutches. “That's insane, why? Why would you kill him for simply looking at me? You know I only have eyes for you, Aem, but this…this is nuts..”
“You belong to me,” he murmured, the words serving as both a promise and a sure threat. “And I do. not. share.” His voice rumbled against your skin, vibrating through your bones and settling deep within you. Those words, staccato against the cold night air, each consonant emphasised, would be imprinted in your psyche, committed to memory in flesh…if you survived the night that is. His eyes sparkled with something close to amusement. You’d never seen this side of your boyfriend before, a whole new person emerged from behind those eyes. One who relished in danger, who delighted in inflicting fear. He revelled in the terror he caused, drank in every drop of panic pouring from your face. It seemed a switch had flipped in Aemond, where once was Jekyll, now shone Hyde. He’d become the monster, the bump in the night. Where once lay affection, deep seated and genuine, his eyes now only reflected his delight in your terror. They were devoid of any true emotion, any connection you once shared, if you indeed ever did, was now replaced by sheer derision and ridicule.
“I will make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
Every word emphasised by sharp sibilance, every consonant harsh and unexpectedly aggressive. You loved Aemond’s voice once, only minutes earlier infact, each rumbling low note and how he could command with such minimal effort. Yet with one sentence, he managed to erase any trace of love, and instead instill fear; chilling you to the bone with words alone, whispered into the crisp night air. Despite the chill running through your veins, nipping at your skin and drawing goosebumps to the surface of your flesh at Aemond’s cold glare, and despite the corpse lying mere inches from your feet, that one line was enough to stir something within you.
The thought of Aemond taking you in the open air, claiming your body with cold steel pressed against your skin, although wicked and slightly deranged, forced a need you never knew you had to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps deep down, you always knew who he was, perhaps you liked his possessive nature, his forceful and domineering personality. As reserved and well tempered as he was, it always lingered just beneath the surface, waiting to rear its head. Something in his voice let you know he meant it, let you know that you weren’t getting out of this house without him utterly claiming you, flesh and bone.
The rest of the world melted away as he pulled you closer, constricting his arms around your chest like a python. The party slipped into the darkness, clouded by dizziness and fear. All you could hear was the sound of your breath, as it was squeezed from your lungs, right before Aemond released his grip and allowed you to draw air once more. It was all a game, your life a frivolity. Even still, you couldn’t help but let arousal wash over you. Arousal mixed with fear proved to be an intoxicating combination, a drug you had never experienced before.
Seeing that glimmer, that faint light in your eyes as he laid claim to your body, Aemond was emboldened to push onwards, to find his pleasure in a body willing, pliable, and waiting in his grip. Yet he needed to know just how far he could push, just how much he could take from you before you’d recoil in disgust. He needed to know just how far he could push you before you’d break. Delving one hand slowly into his jacket pocket, Aemond withdrew a knife, its handle settling into the curve of his deft hand. Even in the dying light, its blade danced and glittered, shining menacingly against the blackness. Your eyes widened, yet you didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe against the shining silver he drew to your pale flesh.
With a sharp knife to the throat, the steel pressing against your delicate flesh, you trembled beneath its pointed blade. Aemond tested your mettle, pressing it hard enough to break the skin and draw a minuscule drop of blood to the blade. A hiss escaped your lips, swallowed quickly by Aemond’s plump mouth. No sooner had you made a sound, he wrapped his pouting lips around yours, taking his pleasure from your pain. He’d never given you cause to be afraid before, but now, with hardened steel slicing at your throat, and a sparkle you’d never seen before gracing his natural eye, Aemond looked every bit the villain. “I never took you for a sadist…but you seem to be enjoying this a little too much..”
“There's a lot you don't know about me, darling.” he whispered, a menacing smirk creasing the pale skin of his perfectly chiselled face. Despite the hairs at the back of your neck standing on edge, and your nervous system all of a sudden plunged into a state of fight or flight, you couldn’t help but succumb to the wiles of this perfectly handsome man. Even with his flaws and his newfound savagery, your body ached to feel him, to feel his warmth and that deliciously familiar sting as he ravaged your body.
The driving bassline of ‘Psycho Killer’ thumped through the brick walls, a fitting soundtrack for Aemond’s mindless ravaging of your helpless frame. There was nothing you could do to stop him in this moment, nothing you could do to escape…but if you were truthful with yourself, you really didn’t want to. Even with fear licking at the edges, your nerves pulsing in time with the groovy bassline thundering through the concrete walls, you abandoned all reasonable judgement in favour of potential pleasure. You lapped up his undivided attention, his utterly deranged attempts at securing your affections. And no matter how much your mind sought to escape his greedy clutches, how desperately a rational part of you wanted to flee, another part of you craved Aemond’s touch, no matter the circumstances, no matter how grim your surroundings may have been. Your body instinctively knew how crazy he was for you, how deeply he craved the comfort of your flesh, and how he’d kill to keep you all to himself. A part of you loved it; a voice that sounded when his hands roamed your body, all controlling and all enveloping. And now it was that part of you that drove you further into his embrace, that relinquished control of your flesh to his greedy hands. As you closed your eyes and shut the world out, you could only feel his slender fingers worshipping your body, every touch a prayer to your depraved soul. They traced a path through your skin, gripping at every inch as if his hands could strip it from your bones. It wasn’t long before you felt the evidence of his appetite pulsing against you, a thick bulge caressing your abdomen, searching for friction and warmth, searching for its target.
In a flurry of raw passion and craze-fuelled lust, Aemond’s hands flew to your head, grasping your hair at the root and tugging at it until your scalp throbbed; an undeniable stinging sensation that forced you to do its bidding. He pushed you down, your knees once more hitting the blood sodden earth. Once again, your eyes fell on the dead body lying only inches from you, yet Aemond forced your eyes upwards, tugging at your hair until he had your undivided attention.
It was obvious what he wanted, and he knew just how to make you squirm while getting it. Before long, his cock had sprung free of its tight denim prison and hung heavy before your face.
You could never quite grasp how well endowed he was for a petite man. It seemed so disproportionate to his body, yet you never once complained, except for the moments in that initial intrusion of course. The crisp night air nipped at the delicate skin. It was this cold air that only intensified the pleasure when your lips wrapped around his shaft, when the warmth of your mouth enveloped his cock, drawing him into your throat as far as you were physically able. His hips immediately chased a rhythm which mirrored the music from the other side of the wall, pistoning relentlessly, pounding your throat, causing you to gag and choke around him. There was no time to tease, no time to accommodate his size in your throat. Yet he didn’t let you move. His fingers flexed at your scalp, coaxing your mouth deeper still. The pain prickled, a sharp stinging sensation, yet it was dulled by the force of his merciless thrusts. His hips kept up an unforgiving pace, chasing a release that all too quickly approached.
Before long, your throat was painted by his unending supply of semen, as unrelenting and demanding as the tempo of his hips against your jaw. You greedily swallowed each and every drop, milking his cock with hollowed cheeks. He was stunned at your veracious appetite for his cum, the haze of orgasm washing heavily over his tired eyes, yet you kept up your enthusiastic pursuits. Even after release, Aemond stayed rock hard. His solid phallus throbbed in your mouth, veins pulsating against the muscle of your tongue even as he pulled out and let it rest on the tip, the protruding vasculature quivering against the warmth of your lips. The thought of ruining your cunt as one of his victims lay alongside you had him ready almost immediately, every inch of his body thrumming at the prospect. To see the woman he craved and the man he so furiously butchered laying side by side became part of the fantasy, part of the game.
The fear present in your eyes, mixed with a shameful desire for what he had to offer only spurred his arousal, the war raging in your mind between sheer terror and a desire for absolute pleasure evident in tear-stained eyelids. Your mascara had run down your cheeks, painting your face as it fell. Aemond admired his work, yet he was only getting started. His desire to ruin you, to take exactly what he wanted from your pretty cunt and have you fall apart around him was titillating.
For months, he watched you play the part of the dutiful girlfriend, yet you entertained lustful stares from random men. Holding their leering gazes across a room. It was a shame, but he simply had to punish you, to mark you as his own. If you didn't submit, if you wouldn't behave…well..Killing you was never part of the plan, but his blade was thirsty, and brats must be shown the error of their ways. Perhaps he'd show some mercy if you were good.
His hands remained interwoven with your scalp, fingers tugging at the roots tightly to keep you in line. The sting provided a sharp reminder that your boyfriend had in fact killed a man, who laid face down in the dirt only inches from your feet. Yet you couldn’t help the heat of arousal building with every tug. As Aemond dragged you from your knees to your feet, pulling you tight to his chest before spinning you around and pinning you against the wall, the coil in your core grew increasingly tight. He didn’t even have to fuck you to make you a quivering mess beneath him. Any trace of fear left seemed to leak down your leg with evidence of your arousal. Your face grazed the pebbledash finish on the side of the house, but it wasn’t long before he forcefully arched your back, pulling your head backwards by the hair and pressing your cunt against his tumescent cock. He didn’t even need to undress you; he had easy access once your panties were pushed aside. Aemond loved it when you wore such short dresses; he fantasised about moments like this. Your underwear was sodden, you didn’t even need to be touched to be ready for Aemond’s intrusion into your body. “Hm,” he snickered, that knowing smirk plastered firmly onto his chiselled face. It was amusement, laced with derision and mocking, something completely foreign to your ears from a man you only knew as loving, though truthfully, you had clearly ignored many aspects of his personality, perhaps you saw it and ignored it in favour of his more amorous qualities. Desire can cloud judgement, and you’d definitely misjudged Aemond.
He took full advantage of the ample lubrication. Nudging the folds of your cunt with his spongey pink tip, he tilted his hips and found the right angle so that he could easily plough into you with devastating effect. In one swift motion, Aemond speared your cunt with his impressively thick cock. Another ear-splitting scream left your lips, this time caused by the force of being impaled by your boyfriend's egregiously large penis rather than a corpse scaring the life out of you. Usually, he gave you time to adjust, inched his way in, and let your walls stretch to accommodate his size, but tonight he saw fit to punish you, to brutally defile your body as he saw fit. Perhaps it was retribution for letting your eyes linger on another longer than appropriate, perhaps this was bubbling within him for a long time. He didn’t stifle your screams this time, he let them ring out for everyone to hear.
Time passed in a blur, your body no more than a vessel for containing Aemond’s rage. You were pinned against the wall by his veined forearms, blood pumping through his body with the exertion. You could do little to adjust to his onslaught, your body didn’t have time to get used to the feeling. His sharp hips pistoned against the plump curve of your arse, the sound of skin slapping echoing out into the hollow night. You knew you’d be bruised, your skin would bear the mottled remnants of his anger for days, stained with multicoloured blotches. You let your mind wander, settling into the thick fog of pain and numbness. It’d be over in just a minute, with the pace Aemond had set; he was sure to come undone quite quickly. There was no restraining raw, animalistic desire and his was on full display. Eventually, the pain of his forceful penetration dulled, the sharp sting muted, and all too soon you felt the familiar coil settle in your core. You knew there’d be no relief, yet you allowed yourself to hope, to picture the sweet release that could come, if he was merciful.
This wasn’t reminiscent of any other time you’d fucked, any other time he used your body for his pleasure. There was no love present here, no affection, only crude carnal desire. Raw, unfiltered, tainted with ego and testosterone. Pure adrenaline coursed through his system, driving each callous thrust. There was no hint of gentility in his movements, no trace of the man you’d once made love to. This monster chased his own high, using your flesh as he saw fit. Your skin would bear the evidence; it’d remind you of this night even when the memory dulled. Even when the haze of potential pleasure clouded your recall of his brutality. Mottled bruising would stain the surface, remind you of the sudden appearance of this alter ego, this second self Aemond had long hidden. A bloodthirsty creature that lingered underneath the surface, and reared its head when jealousy spilled over. Considering the alternative, being used as no more than a fleshlight was a preferable outcome. Considering the violence you’d seen at his hand, the body that day in the dirt as a result of his rage, being used for his sexual release was the least egregious path.
Yet, even though your mind knew all this was wrong, that you were upset and betrayed, that you wanted the gentle man you loved back, you couldn’t deny the physical response your body had to being so roughly handled. You couldn’t deny the burning between your legs, the ever tightening coil as his cock ravaged your cunt. And though your mind had slightly more trouble overcoming the whole jealous rage-murder-thing, your body seemed more than capable of withstanding each revenge fuelled thrust, each slap of skin and bone against your delicate flesh. Even the sound of his pale skin smacking against yours drew goosebumps to the surface and sent a fresh shiver through your bones. You knew you’d fall apart around him soon. The question was, would he find his high before your banks burst around him?
Aemond certainly wasn’t shy about making noise, letting his guttural grunts ring out into the night. He didn’t care who heard, he didn’t care who witnessed the punishment he inflicted upon you for casting your eyes towards another. He watched your body swallow his cock, over and over, as his hips kept up their punitive pace. Somehow, the sight of his cock disappearing into your body, sheathed within such warmth, it pulled emotion from him that he never knew he had. He didn’t think he was capable of forgiveness, of being anything but cold and vengeful. Yet this seemed like a fitting punishment for you, taking his length over and over, taking him so deeply into your body that he felt the very essence of you coming apart around him. The moonlight danced on your juices, which coated his cock from tip to base. It was mesmerising, hypnotising, evidence of your arousal and devotion, even under such gruelling circumstances. Aemond felt the familiar flutter of your walls around his shaft, the telltale sign that you were on the precipice of release. Yet you held yourself together, you held your peak back. And he would drag you there, he’d show you just how merciful a violent man could be, with the evidence of his passion staring at them from the cold ground.
Aemond’s change of heart was sudden and rather shocking. Instead of verbalising his ideas, instead of communicating, he halted his brutal assault all at once, pulling his pants up around shaking knees and leaving you empty, without warning or any thought for your building pleasure.
You just stood, in a state of shock and right on the edge of release, desperate for relief, when it stood tantalisingly close. He hadn’t finished, he didn't even wipe himself off, he just…stopped. And before you could comprehend why, Aemond’s hand found the nape of your neck. His grip was tight, consuming, his touch like tongues of flame against the contrasting chill of the night air, yet he didn’t grab tight enough to cause you pain. Just to bend you to his will, to let you know that you belonged to him, and him alone.
He pulled you into the warmth of the house once without a word, ignoring the sheen of sweat on your brow, and the red hot flush that burned beneath your skin from his efforts. As you walked through sticky swathes of drunken people, you kept your eyes trained on the beer stained floor, hoping that nobody would notice your disheveled state. The crowd were too engrossed in their bottles to notice, but you were certain everyone had heard your lurid activities outside, even above the din of the playlist that blasted through crackling speakers in the living room. Approaching the one person you knew would miss your presence, you said a quiet goodbye to Helaena before disappearing through the sea of inebriated bodies, into the ink-black night with Aemond guiding your way. His hands gripped your spine like a vice, directing every step, controlling the depth and pace of every breath you took. Yet there was something oddly freeing about it. Something strangely comforting about removing your autonomy and giving complete control to this unhinged human.
He controlled your every move, even when his hands weren’t on your body. You felt his red hot stare lingering as he rounded the bonnet, making his way to the driver door.
The dark leather creaked as he sank into the plush seat, the material shifting under his weight, accommodating and molding to his shape as he settled into it. It gave way to him like clay, fitting to his svelte yet strangely dense and muscular form. He didn't reach for the radio, didn't force small talk where it wasn't needed. From the minute the key turned in the ignition, Aemond had you right where he wanted you; unsatisfied and on the edge of reason. He left you empty and confused, waiting on tenterhooks for his next move.
As he steered into the night, with only the glow of the headlights shining against the tarmac, his hand moved to rest on your thigh, long fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving crescent shapes in their wake. He may as well have branded you, his touch felt like flames nipping at your skin. Not once did that hand leave your thigh, not once did he lift his fingers from their resting place.
Each squeeze made your breath hitch in your chest, each time getting a little tighter, pinching the skin just a little more. You knew there was a chance those marks would be permanent, scars to remind you exactly who you belonged to, like a tattoo carved into flesh.
Passing streetlights illuminated the smirk permanently painted onto his face. The pale glow from the outside glinted off of his prosthetic eye, catching the sapphire hue and somehow making Aemond look even more menacing. Each flickering bulb formed a rhythm; you found yourself tapping your fingers to the beat of each one as it whizzed by. Perhaps it was a way to distract from the sting of nails digging into your thigh muscle, perhaps it was a coping mechanism - a way to make sense of all that had happened tonight, and all that was sure to come in the early hours of morning. Despite the pleasure you were denied, and the lingering ache within you from Aemond's onslaught, you couldn't help but recall the horrors you had seen also.
You’d left that man lying face down in the dirt. Would he be found by some other drunken soul, stumbling over his chilled corpse as they sparked up a cigarette? Wound someone find out who had led him to his inevitable death?
The torturous silence stretched into the night, the only sound underneath that metal roof were the mingled hushed tones of your combined breaths.
No door could contain Aemond's fervour, no barrier of wood could keep him from his plans. As soon as his feet crossed the threshold, he pulled you down the hall, pulling you into the bathroom hastily. He didn't verbalise his carefully crafted plans, he never once let you know where his mind was going, you simply followed wordlessly, accepting your fate as it came.
You certainly didn't expect plump lips to meet your own in an unusually passionate embrace, before backing you into the shower, still fully clothed. You didn't question it, but your eyes clearly communicated your confusion, ad Aemond answered with a familiar cheeky grin.
His hand reached behind you, releasing the water from its chamber. It was hot, like fire in liquid form. Like dragon fire, tongues of flame licked at the surface of your skin. Aemond didn't seem to notice, it didn't seem to faze him, and immediately crowded around you, backing you against the glass wall. He had less grip under the running water, his hands couldn’t get purchase on your skin. Clawing hands slipped under the flow of running water, yet that didn't hinder his frenzied actions.
He crowded you against the glass, held your body tightly with one hand, while the other wandered to the slick column of your throat. Nimble fingers wrapped around delicate skin, pressing slightly on either side. Just enough to remind you of his power, just enough to keep you malleable under his touch.
He’d already punished you that night, taken his anger and malice out thoroughly on your pliant cunt. So instead of abusing his power and alienating the one good thing he had, he decided to incentivise good behaviour. To show you he could be the devoted man you thought he was, as well as the one you found tonight. To keep you truly under his thumb, he needed to be merciful as well as vengeful. Besides, it was fun to watch you fall apart under his touch, to watch your eyes roll back in your head as his body brought you immense pleasure. Dropping to his knees, Aemond hooked one of your thighs over his shoulder as you braced yourself against the glass, eyes widening with each surprising development. You could scarcely believe the vision before you, it was a shocking u-turn, a swift pivot back to the passionate, tender man you called yours only hours earlier, though that sharp edge remained. The man you thought you knew so well was not lost, merely buried beneath the thin veil of a monster. You just let it happen, not daring to question his intentions, not daring to interrupt.
A hot tongue darted from his jaw, catching the falling water on its rough surface before plunging to its purpose. His jutting chin nuzzled between your legs, his pointed nose angled slightly upwards to stimulate your sensitive clit. Aemond knew what he was doing, he always did, but this night he set about devouring you with renewed purpose and surprising enthusiasm. One dazzlingly blue eye peered up at you from between your folds. He seemed to know just where to apply pressure, how to stimulate the most sensitive spots that would make you melt into his mouth. He was still the man who devoured you at every turn, who took pleasure in pleasuring you. But this time seemed different, this time he seemed determined to watch you come undone, to assert dominance in the most unlikely of positions. Every breath, every sweet exclamation and high pitched whine only fed his ego further. You were truly and devastatingly under his thumb, and you knew it. With one swipe of his tongue, you’d fallen into his trap. There was no escaping it now.
So instead of fighting the pleasure that welled deep within, that wrung tighter with each lapping sweep of his textured tongue you gave yourself over to it. You resigned yourself to the duality of his wanton violence, to his murderous tendencies and slightly insane possessive nature, with the man that knelt before you, the one you'd fallen for. You even allowed yourself to enjoy it, to lose yourself in it and lap up each and every ounce of tainted love Aemond deemed fit to give.
Even over the patter of running water, your exclamations of ecstasy echoed between the thick glass panes keeping you aloft. Your knees had long buckled beneath your tired frame, you were only kept upright by Aemond's strong shoulders and one solid sheet of glass behind your back.
It wasn't long before you found the pleasure you were earlier denied in a warm supping tongue, ravaging your cunt as if it’d never taste your flesh again. As if your skin contained the sweetest of nectar, a delicacy Aemond sought out most fervently.
It was merely minutes before you were spilling into the open caverns of his mouth, your body succumbing to his expert ministrations, seceding its battle with guilt and fear to an overwhelming blanket of ecstasy. Aemond sucked every drop from your dripping cunt, licked and sucked your swollen clit long past the point of release, until he had you writhing around his head, begging for relief from the almost painful overstimulation. It was only then, as your pleading rang in his ears, that Aemond finally relinquished his efforts, and made his way back up your body, to share his reward with your waiting mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his searing kiss. He claimed every inch of you, everything you had was his.
And now, as he gave you everything you wanted, you were more than willing to succumb to his every whim.
Though when the haze of pleasure wore off, when the coil in your gut had been let loose and you could think clearly, your mind reeled, remembering every gory detail the night held.
You were truly stuck, wedged firmly under his thumb, and Aemond knew exactly how to keep you pliant and willing, he knew exactly how much your body yearned for his hands, how you couldn’t possibly resist the call of his body, even when your mind fought to escape.
The next morning, knuckles rapped on sagging wood that could tell a multitude of stories. Glazed eyes opened the door to reveal local police, investigating a missing person's report.
The man without a name, the corpse in the cold, who everyone assumed had Irish goodbyed, never made it home. Yet another young man in recent weeks who never graced their own front doors again, who disappeared without a trace. His body had been discovered tossed onto the side of a blackened road, far from anyone who loved him, or even knew his name. His roommates called it in, knowing he was supposed to walk home that night. They knew he'd never stay out, never leave his cat unattended without saying anything. It was out of character for him to stay out without so much as a text, or posting about his night. They knew something was very wrong when he didn’t grace their flat by 4am, and they raised the alarm.
Two level headed cops interviewed every hungover face in that living room, every person that stayed and slept where they stood. As expected, memories were foggy, clouded by alcohol and recreational drugs, now wreaking havoc on tired bodies. Yet despite hazy recollections of that night, Aemond’s name came up a few times for having disappeared throughout the night. Sore heads and cloudy memories all pointed to Aemond as acting suspiciously, though nobody outrightly suspected him of being a killer. A few names graced tired lips, a few people who had left early, some who had a reputation for trouble, some who were known to disappear without saying anything. Yet it was Aemond that drew attention, it was him that stuck in the clouded minds of everyone who attended that night.
It wasn’t long before trouble graced your doorstep, the hollow sound of knuckles knocking at your door stirring you from sleep, and bringing you out into the hallway. You were groggy, moving slowly, but you heard someone at the door. Aemond was already up, and had answered the front door clad in nothing but his boxers. To some it might have been seen as pure laziness, you knew better. You knew that the sight of his sculpted body would throw off whoever was on the other side of that door, knocking at an ungodly hour as a migraine rattled through your brain. You could barely hear what they were saying from your perch atop the stairs, but you did hear several questions being asked, and so out of curiosity, you wandered to the landing to get a better view. It was the police. Shit.
Every morose detail came flooding back to you, in grotesque clarity. The blood, his face under the pale moonlight, the wound that spanned the breadth of his neck. The violence and brutality of it all. You’d honestly forgotten most of it, the vivid details were diluted by alcohol and knocked loose by Aemond’s bipolar behaviour afterwards. But seeing two officers in uniform grace your apartment door brought it all back, including the overwhelming sense of horror. It was all you could do to run to the bathroom and rid yourself of the guilt before someone spotted you.
After you’d expelled your guilt into the porcelain bowl, washing your face with cold water and tidying yourself up to the best of your ability, you decided to join Aemond downstairs. It was better than hiding. You only caught part of the conversation, and even as you descended the stairs, you heard pointed voices echoing in condescending tones.
“You’re not in any trouble,” one of them said kindly, ‘the good cop,’ Aemond thought distastefully, though he didn’t for one second let his face reflect his true thoughts. “Right now we’re just following some lines of inquiry and your name has come up a lot.”
Another, more stern voice chimed in quickly after. “Seems enough people were concerned about your disappearing acts on the night in question that they thought it worthwhile mentioning.”
“Am I under arrest, officers?” he sighed, almost bored at their probing line of questioning. You cringed at his blatant display of ego, you knew that this alter Aemond was different, somewhat maniacal but you never thought what would happen when he was confronted with true authority. Even still, you made your way over to them and stood by his side, giving a polite nod to the officers.
“Well that depends son, you have anyone else that can account for your whereabouts on the night, anybody who can solidly swear they were with you the entire time?”
Silence. He looked to the side, throwing his eyes in your direction, slightly confused, but also betrayed by your hesitance.
Aemond deflated, he thought of the fear in your eyes when you'd discovered the true depths of his depravity last night, the look of betrayal when he’d pressed the metal of his blade to your skin and watched the trickle of blood there. Somehow he expected obedience.
“I will make sure you never forget who you belong to,” he’d said at the time and he’d hoped his actions last night were enough to enforce upon you that no matter what happened now: no cuffs, bars or barbed-wired fences would ever change the fact that he had killed and would kill again to remind you of this fact.
“That’s what I thought..” the tougher cop smirked after a few moments of uneasy, weighted silence, “Aemond Targaryen you are under-”
Realising the opportunity before you, seeing your chance at escape from this dire situation of your own making, you kept your mouth firmly shut. You never anticipated just how viscerally your body would react to the jingling of handcuffs though, the cold metal struck a chord within you, pulling something along the lines of guilt and sending a feeling akin to pity bubbling to the surface. Your resolution to stay silent broke in a matter of seconds, your steel will crumbling before you could stop yourself.
Just as he was about to be placed in cuffs, his eyes locked with yours once more and disappointment turned to rage in an instant. There was no pleading to be found there, just a look, a look that made your stomach clench and the words were wrenched from you before you even had time to think. One glance from dazzlingly blue eyes was all it took for the words to come tumbling from your lips. "He was with me all night” you blurted and the cop stopped mid arrest-speech. You regretted it as soon as you heard the words form in the air before you, but it was too late. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at you in a way that made you feel small and far too bare. You had given Aemond a way out, an escape from a fate he truly deserved.
“All night you say?” he asked, tone mocking and you were nodding wide-eyed and heart racing.
“And you would be willing to swear that before a judge now would you sweetheart?”
Something about his mocking tone, or his condescending use of the word sweetheart had you bridling and you stuck your chin out stubbornly.
“I’ll swear it to anyone you want me to, he never left my sight all night. I can even go into the details of what exactly we were doing when we ‘disappeared’ each time if you’d like.”
‘That’s my girl’, Aemond thought as the police officer was forced to unclasp the bracelets from his narrow wrists and he grinned knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. You’d had your chance to escape him, and now he knew resolutely that you were lovestruck, even in the face of everything you’d seen and he had you undeniably stuck, under his thumb.
With an alibi now firmly in place they had no choice but to take your statements and be on their way, any hope they had of pinning it on Aemond dissipated with your sworn statement and their demeanour toward him completely changed.
Aemond himself had switched into charming mode, you’d seen it a thousand times before, you had yourself been victim to it, but it still scared you how easily he slipped into it and how capable he was of making people believe him and bend to his will.
“Whoever the killer’s after, I'm glad they have you guys to protect them” Aemond uttered to the retreating police, flashing a fake smile their way before turning his back.
“City’s finest…” he whispered under his breath, as they walked in the opposite direction, leaving you to a fate of your own making. As he pushed past you, once more entering the cosy apartment, Aemond whispered a final sentence that made your blood run cold at the utterance.
“You can't run from who you are baby ..none of us can”
Taglist: (no pressure) @volklana @thenameswinter99 @suntizme @zaldritzosrose @dreamilypurplepillar
When I tell you this fic was all I have been able to think about for days, and now it's finally out here in the world and it's everything I could have ever dreamed of and MORE. I honestly don't know how you do it but you genuinely have me on the edge of my seat with your writing 🖤🖤🖤
Passing streetlights illuminated the smirk permanently painted onto his face. The pale glow from the outside glinted off of his prosthetic eye, catching the sapphire hue and somehow making Aemond look even more menacing
Your descriptions are so amazingly vivid, like I could actually see this in my mind like a film scene, I just think you captured his smugness so well here and it felt cinematic, I don't even know how else to describe this!
Once again I'm in awe of you. This was amazingly well written and had me gripped from the moment you told me about it! You worked your arse off on this and I really hope it does the numbers it deserves!
I'm gonna come back to this fic again and again I just know it 🖤🖤🖤
TW: Murder, explicit smut, erotophonophilia (deriving sexual excitement from killing), face fucking, manipulation & slight stockholm syndrome..overall he’s not a good dude.
Thanks to the lovely @volklana for collaborating with me on this! And always being such a fantastic support 🖤 and @mintwrit3z for beta reading.
Word count: 9.6k
There’s something about the quiet reflection of smoking alone, while a party rages on behind thick concrete walls, that you’d always found incredibly relaxing. Your focus lay solely on your breath and the object balanced delicately between your fingertips. For a few short moments, it seemed like it was just you and the night, in silent communication.
Autumn was your favourite time of year. Crisp, cold nights and fresh days with the sun dipping lower in the sky. You felt the magic of this season hanging heavy in the night air, it was as if it spoke to you. Perhaps it was because you were born in autumn, perhaps it was the mystical nature of the season. The veil between the worlds was thinner, and as Halloween approached, you felt the subtle shift in the elements. Taking a large lungful of smoke, you communed with the darkness, enjoying a brief moment of peace in a night full of frivolity and alcohol fuelled debauchery. But the black night shrouded all manner of sins from your eyes, and in that moment, your only focus was on the glowing embers dying at the tip of your cigarette. You had no idea what horrors lingered in the shadows, what terror lay only inches from your feet.
With your back propped up against the heavy wooden door, music boomed from inside, penetrating the thick oak slab behind your head, yet your mind was caught in a thick fog. The night air was cool, your breath and smoke mingling in the frigidity around you. For once, you weren’t overthinking how you looked or dissecting a conversation you just had. For a brief few minutes, you had true calm descend over you in the form of cold evening air and invigorating substances in smokable form. That is, until the door swung open, sending you hurtling into two veined arms that quickly righted you upright and encapsulated your torso.
“Jesus…shit…you scared me…”
Your asshole of a boyfriend simply laughed, a rumbling display of amusement spurred on by your skittish reaction. He simply nuzzled his chin into your neck, huffing in delight against the delicate skin and inhaling a nosefull of your scent.
“What's the matter, baby? You look like you've seen a ghost..”
“Aem, quit it, you know I'm normally not scared so easily” you scowled, your face painted with fake displeasure. Though you couldn’t help but squeal as his hands wandered your sides, hitting every ticklish spot on their way, breaking your face into unrestrained smiles. Aemond was always incredibly handsy, though as touch starved as you were, you never complained. You loved getting attention from the prettiest man you’d ever encountered, you felt blessed to have his hands roaming your flesh, his good eye trained on you and only you.
You'd only been together a few months, and though the relationship was relatively fresh, you'd fallen…hard.
Aemond was unconventionally attractive. His face, though it looked like it had been carved from pale white marble, was marred by blanched pink scars, which spanned the length of his right cheek. One eye had been damaged in an accident as a kid, so in its place sat a prosthetic painted in the most dazzling shade of sapphire blue. Somehow, it only added to his ethereal nature, never detracting from his unusual beauty. That, alongside an entirely black wardrobe consisting mostly of band shirts and leather, complimented his stunning features. He was a man of great contrast, his look most striking, while his personality was more reserved. He was the most captivating, yet troubled young man you'd ever laid eyes on, and you couldn't help but fall face first into quite an intense entanglement after being introduced.
Aemond was always the most attentive partner, always paying heed to even the smallest details. He noticed things most boyfriends would completely ignore: changes in your expression & body language, slight shifts in your mood, and he always anticipated your needs before you’d even have to ask. When you were around friends, Aemond’s hands stayed connected to your skin at all times, holding your hand, tracing delicate patterns against the back of your palm, or running his spindly fingers along the column of your neck. His eye would always be on you, following you around the room. In private, he was even more impassioned. He loved feeling your body pressed against him, the warmth of your flesh against his own. Instead of psychoanalysing these slightly possessive traits, you leaned into them, rivalling his intensity with your own eccentricities. You were a rather odd, but well balanced match.
On this night, as you stood in the dark, your face only highlighted by the glow of your cigarette, Aemond took advantage of the privacy the shadows afforded and peppered your neck with kisses, pulling you tightly against his chest as you stood resolutely, facing into the black night. You loved how needy he was, but also domineering in equal measure. He never used those sculpted muscles against you, except to further your pleasure, to satisfy you in every way you desired. And now he cuddled you against the cold, sheltered you from the chilled wind blowing through the trees. “It’s such a nice night out…you thirsty baby?” his warm breath vibrated against your skin. He extended a hand out, a chilled beer bottle grasped between several graceful fingers. Even the sight of them made you shiver, though that could’ve also been the bitter breeze swirling around your ankles. “Thank Aem, I'm parched.” You happily snatched the slim bottle from his hands, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary against his digits, which earned a smirk, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as the fermented amber liquid ran down your throat. The familiar quenching of thirst came with a promise in itself, you could see the hints of mischief present in his smile.
In return for his generosity, you extended a frigid hand, the end of your cigarette blooming between your dainty fingers. He didn’t even need to say anything; instead, Aemond leaned down, wrapping his plump lips around the thin paper. One sharp inhale and his body filled with an addicting sense of elation, one he sought out in other avenues of life. He found it touching your body, pulling you close, and feeling each curve and valley of your perfectly sculpted frame under his fingertips. He found it in coaxing those pretty mewls from your lips, a soundtrack he’d gladly play on repeat. Yet there was always the pull towards something darker, something a little more… taboo.
As he stood with you in that doorway, the swell of your arse pressed against his quickly growing bulge, Aemond realised that the evidence of his other, perhaps more niche hobbies lay only inches away, neatly tucked around the shadowy corner.
It was only sheer luck that you hadn’t noticed a pool of sticky crimson blood inching across the damp mud, crawling towards your feet - but the night had long descended, the sun had fallen from the sky, replaced by the heavy blackness of an autumn night. The dark provided cover for his lurid savagery, shrouding the horrors from your sight.
With one drag, Aemond filled his lungs with the delicious sting of nicotine. There was only one languid last puff left, one draw of the bitter nectar he so often craved. With a sharp exhale into the night, he dropped the butt of the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, the heel of his shoe squelching the dying embers into the damp earth. Not too far away, the mud was stained red with blood, a pool slowly forming beneath the corpse of a man who dared lay his beady eyes on you across a packed dancefloor earlier that same night.
Warm hands kept you pressed to his chest, pulled close to a heart beating softly beneath leather clad skin. In that darkened doorway with the man of your dreams hanging on your every breath, you found yourself smiling like an idiot. Your eyes were drawn to the curve of Aemond’s mouth as it encased the last of your cigarette. You marvelled at the swell of his cheeks as he billowed smoke into the crisp night air. He always stole your focus, captured your attention simply by existing. You were utterly entranced by his sharp, angular features. Such beauty in a man was rare, but he had both softness and a sharp edge, a traditional pretty boy look laced with danger and the added oddity of his disfigurements. He somehow appeared angelic and devilish in equal measure, an enigma wrapped in the most beautiful packaging. And as he held you against the frigid wind, the darkness encroaching on your romantic moment, you couldn't help but be completely taken with the man you called yours once more.
Yet the wind brought with it a certain anxiety, a subtle foreboding that settled in your mind. As he crushed the remains of your cigarette under his boot and pulled you tightly into his arms, sandwiching your body between his hardened chest and the wall, you utterly fell to his wiles, melting like butter under his smoldering gaze. You couldn't help but see a glint of mischief in that unyielding stare. As if he had a plan you were not yet privy to, but it was wrapped in warmth, in a certain affection that you sought out in every room.
Before long, strong hands dragged you from the chill of night and guided you back into a sea of drunken bodies, each one swaying to their own rhythm, some with the music, some following a tempo of their own design. Each one moved like a branch in the breeze. The intoxicating scent of liquor billowed from inebriated lungs, mouths that messily combined on the dance floor, swapping saliva and the lingering traces of whatever they'd been drinking. Bodies undulated like the tide, a swell of flesh to music, yet even that couldn't distract you from those dazzlingly blue eyes piercing into your flesh as his searing grip held on and led you across the crowded room. The atmosphere numbed any unease in your mind, the sense of frivolity and joy contagious. Even under the haze of alcohol, you felt Aemond’s eyes trained on you as he walked you through a sea of drunkards. Never once did you suspect distrust in your relationship, yet he kept his eyes on you as if you’d disappear into the night.
Instead of allowing you to wander into the haze of debauchery that surrounded you both, Aemond pulled you flush to him, and began to sway along with the other bodies in the pool.
His hands wandered to your hips, feeling in the dark for anywhere he could grasp onto. Moving in tandem with the pulsing rhythm, his hips were pinned against your own, undulating in time with one another. You allowed your mind to go blank, to exist solely in the moment with Aemond, his eyes as hypnotising as the thrumming beat over the speakers, the swell of want between his legs enough to send waves of desire through your body. It was almost intoxicating, surrendering to the music and the feeling of uninhibited bodies around you. It was a certain type of freedom, a complete departure from your regular life.
It took a while for people in their drunken stupor to notice that someone was missing, and inebriated people eventually tottered around the room in search of a man who’d never walk through those doors again. Aemond noticed the commotion, yet remained cool and collected, instead channeling his focus towards you, as your body mirrored the mindless drones around you, swaying in time with the music. He was never one to dance, usually opting to prop up the wall with a beer in hand instead, but he'd follow you anywhere, would do anything you asked. That included grinding on the dancefloor to the dulcet tones of ‘Don't Fear the Reaper’, well lubricated by several shots of whiskey beforehand. You'd have never realised that he also had an ulterior motive for his compliance. Participating in such a charade was a small price to pay, to keep certain secrets hidden.
It took several more minutes for you to notice the panicked faces wandering around the dance floor, yet the gravity of the situation didn't quite register, your mind had been swallowed by lust and alcohol. Lipsticked lips sloppily met Aemond’s warm cheek and you hurriedly dragged him by the hand over to a group where his sister had been standing. The music rumbled on, though you leaned into Helaena’s shoulder, whispering into her ear. “Hel, what's going on?”
Helaena shrugged, clearly too lost in her drink to comprehend the situation. “It's really weird, isn't it, to think this fuss is all because of you?”
You loved the bones of her, but she was scattered at the best of times, let alone when she had imbibed on her favourite beverages. Sometimes she simply made no sense and spoke words into the ether without any context at all. “I love you, Hel, but you make no sense sometimes..” you laughed, before returning to Aemond and snuggling into his waiting arms.
Gossip made its way around the room - unfounded words swirling in the mouths of drunk people like the ice clinking in their cups. Young men had been going missing in your neighbourhood the last few months, some turning up disfigured, some slashed and beaten beyond recognition. But all undeniably dead. It was enough to strike fear into the coldest of hearts, and Aemond hadn't left you out of his sight since. You found it strange, some names you’d even recognised, but they weren’t close friends, only people you’d encountered in passing. Friends of friends, faces you'd have recognised in social situations like tonight. A strange sense of foreboding settled in your gut, but the alcohol numbed any immediate reaction to the chatter, dulling your usually acute intuition.
Still, the atmosphere inside had changed, and despite something gnawing at your mind, a subtle warning sign that you pushed to the side, your immediate desires took control, and you pulled Aemond upstairs. To your chagrin, the bedrooms were already occupied, so you headed outside, perhaps the dark would shield you from prying eyes. It seemed Aemond had the same thought, his voice carrying above the din of some cheesy rock song, “Wanna play a game?” and he nodded in the direction of the back door, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.
Out in the dark with Aemond, despite the stinging chill in the air, you couldn’t keep your hands off him. The night provided adequate cover for your lewd activities, though at any moment someone could walk through the door and catch you in the act. Somehow, the danger made your boyfriend that much hotter, his perfectly sculpted body that much more irresistible. Only the stars were witnesses to your ravenous appetite, to the dip of your tongue into the warm caverns of Aemond’s mouth, exploring each other as if it were the first time. Those twinkling lights saw every grinding thrust of hips and wandering palm, searching for friction against a willing body.
The heat of his breath stung like frostbite, while the wind nipped at your cheek. Yet you only leaned into his warmth, you soaked up every ounce of affection this beautiful man bestowed upon you. You never imagined feeling so wanted, so seen. Aemond always made you feel like the only woman in his life, the only one he saw. His hands carved a path through skin, warm fingertips frantically grasping at flesh as if you’d soon disappear into the night, vanish like a puff of smoke beneath frenzied fingers.
He was always passionate, desperate to have you close, but in the biting darkness, he seemed more frenzied, less controlled than you’d seen him before, as if a fire burned within him that couldn’t be quenched. Or perhaps it was the whiskey. Either way, he was insatiable. His movements were messy, frantic. Plump lips captured yours in an impassioned embrace, your back braced against the pebbledashed wall of the house, the embers of the party slowly dying inside. Aemond’s fire roared brightly, the flames of passion swelling in his eyes.
You moved in tandem in a messy celebration of limbs and spit, neither one of you cognisant of your surroundings, both oblivious to the position of your feet as you danced in passionate unison. Your steps were clumsy as Aemond flung you from wall to wall, your back taking the brunt of his zealous maneuvers. He was a man possessed by desire, but there was something far darker driving his insatiable lust, something you’d very quickly be confronted with, face to face.
In a whirlwind of tangled limbs and blundering footsteps, you managed to lose your footing and your grip on your boyfriend's muscular frame somehow. You stumbled in the dark, losing your balance over something dense on the ground. Tumbling forwards without anything to grip onto, your knees immediately hit the damp earth, taking the brunt of the fall. They squelched into some wet mud, no doubt ruining your favourite dress, but other than that, only your pride was hurt. It was only when you stood up and inspected your hands under the dim flickering light over the back door that you realised it was more than mud; it was thick and sticky, coagulated into revolting globules.
Under the warm, fading light of a lone bulb, you saw your hands covered in a deep crimson substance, which you quickly recognised as blood - even under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol. It wasn’t an illusion, your mind wasn’t playing tricks. It dripped from your fingers into the earth below your feet, staining the ground as it fell. You cast your gaze towards the object that hindered your steps in the dark, and immediately noticed a pale hand dislodged from the mess of grass and sodden muck. Earth encrusted digits led your eyes towards a face, ghostly and drained of life, smothered and half-buried in the damp soil. Two vacant eyes stared into the night, their colour leeched from their place, a result of a throat slashed, and left to drain the contents of his body into the earth below. His body had been mercilessly butchered, cast aside into the mud, and left to rot under the watchful gaze of the moon. Left to the elements, as if nothing more than rubbish. Though you didn’t recognise his face, reality quickly set in.
A blood-curdling scream bubbled up from your lungs, spurting from two kiss-swollen lips, before being quickly silenced by a large hand. The sound didn’t even get the chance to echo into the night before the man you loved grabbed you and gripped your skin so hard it was sure to bruise. Aemond had wrapped himself around you again, one hand clasped around your mouth, the other holding your waist tight. “Shh,” he hissed in your ear, as if the shock would subside on command, as if you'd not just stumbled across a fucking dead body at a party. What was his name? His face looked familiar, but so pallid and pale, with his skin reflecting the bitter chill of death, you couldn't quite tell who it belonged to.
“Sshhhhh…I couldn’t just let his eyes defile you, I had to teach him a lesson...see” he teased, while sniffing at your neck. The hand around your mouth directed your gaze downwards once more, as if looking upon the icy cold flesh of a dead man once wasn’t enough. No, you were forced to look upon a man you scarcely knew, but who had the audacity to look in your direction just a minute too long for Aemond’s liking. You wriggled under his grasp, desperate to run away, to find an escape from his clutches. “That's insane, why? Why would you kill him for simply looking at me? You know I only have eyes for you, Aem, but this…this is nuts..”
“You belong to me,” he murmured, the words serving as both a promise and a sure threat. “And I do. not. share.” His voice rumbled against your skin, vibrating through your bones and settling deep within you. Those words, staccato against the cold night air, each consonant emphasised, would be imprinted in your psyche, committed to memory in flesh…if you survived the night that is. His eyes sparkled with something close to amusement. You’d never seen this side of your boyfriend before, a whole new person emerged from behind those eyes. One who relished in danger, who delighted in inflicting fear. He revelled in the terror he caused, drank in every drop of panic pouring from your face. It seemed a switch had flipped in Aemond, where once was Jekyll, now shone Hyde. He’d become the monster, the bump in the night. Where once lay affection, deep seated and genuine, his eyes now only reflected his delight in your terror. They were devoid of any true emotion, any connection you once shared, if you indeed ever did, was now replaced by sheer derision and ridicule.
“I will make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
Every word emphasised by sharp sibilance, every consonant harsh and unexpectedly aggressive. You loved Aemond’s voice once, only minutes earlier infact, each rumbling low note and how he could command with such minimal effort. Yet with one sentence, he managed to erase any trace of love, and instead instill fear; chilling you to the bone with words alone, whispered into the crisp night air. Despite the chill running through your veins, nipping at your skin and drawing goosebumps to the surface of your flesh at Aemond’s cold glare, and despite the corpse lying mere inches from your feet, that one line was enough to stir something within you.
The thought of Aemond taking you in the open air, claiming your body with cold steel pressed against your skin, although wicked and slightly deranged, forced a need you never knew you had to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps deep down, you always knew who he was, perhaps you liked his possessive nature, his forceful and domineering personality. As reserved and well tempered as he was, it always lingered just beneath the surface, waiting to rear its head. Something in his voice let you know he meant it, let you know that you weren’t getting out of this house without him utterly claiming you, flesh and bone.
The rest of the world melted away as he pulled you closer, constricting his arms around your chest like a python. The party slipped into the darkness, clouded by dizziness and fear. All you could hear was the sound of your breath, as it was squeezed from your lungs, right before Aemond released his grip and allowed you to draw air once more. It was all a game, your life a frivolity. Even still, you couldn’t help but let arousal wash over you. Arousal mixed with fear proved to be an intoxicating combination, a drug you had never experienced before.
Seeing that glimmer, that faint light in your eyes as he laid claim to your body, Aemond was emboldened to push onwards, to find his pleasure in a body willing, pliable, and waiting in his grip. Yet he needed to know just how far he could push, just how much he could take from you before you’d recoil in disgust. He needed to know just how far he could push you before you’d break. Delving one hand slowly into his jacket pocket, Aemond withdrew a knife, its handle settling into the curve of his deft hand. Even in the dying light, its blade danced and glittered, shining menacingly against the blackness. Your eyes widened, yet you didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe against the shining silver he drew to your pale flesh.
With a sharp knife to the throat, the steel pressing against your delicate flesh, you trembled beneath its pointed blade. Aemond tested your mettle, pressing it hard enough to break the skin and draw a minuscule drop of blood to the blade. A hiss escaped your lips, swallowed quickly by Aemond’s plump mouth. No sooner had you made a sound, he wrapped his pouting lips around yours, taking his pleasure from your pain. He’d never given you cause to be afraid before, but now, with hardened steel slicing at your throat, and a sparkle you’d never seen before gracing his natural eye, Aemond looked every bit the villain. “I never took you for a sadist…but you seem to be enjoying this a little too much..”
“There's a lot you don't know about me, darling.” he whispered, a menacing smirk creasing the pale skin of his perfectly chiselled face. Despite the hairs at the back of your neck standing on edge, and your nervous system all of a sudden plunged into a state of fight or flight, you couldn’t help but succumb to the wiles of this perfectly handsome man. Even with his flaws and his newfound savagery, your body ached to feel him, to feel his warmth and that deliciously familiar sting as he ravaged your body.
The driving bassline of ‘Psycho Killer’ thumped through the brick walls, a fitting soundtrack for Aemond’s mindless ravaging of your helpless frame. There was nothing you could do to stop him in this moment, nothing you could do to escape…but if you were truthful with yourself, you really didn’t want to. Even with fear licking at the edges, your nerves pulsing in time with the groovy bassline thundering through the concrete walls, you abandoned all reasonable judgement in favour of potential pleasure. You lapped up his undivided attention, his utterly deranged attempts at securing your affections. And no matter how much your mind sought to escape his greedy clutches, how desperately a rational part of you wanted to flee, another part of you craved Aemond’s touch, no matter the circumstances, no matter how grim your surroundings may have been. Your body instinctively knew how crazy he was for you, how deeply he craved the comfort of your flesh, and how he’d kill to keep you all to himself. A part of you loved it; a voice that sounded when his hands roamed your body, all controlling and all enveloping. And now it was that part of you that drove you further into his embrace, that relinquished control of your flesh to his greedy hands. As you closed your eyes and shut the world out, you could only feel his slender fingers worshipping your body, every touch a prayer to your depraved soul. They traced a path through your skin, gripping at every inch as if his hands could strip it from your bones. It wasn’t long before you felt the evidence of his appetite pulsing against you, a thick bulge caressing your abdomen, searching for friction and warmth, searching for its target.
In a flurry of raw passion and craze-fuelled lust, Aemond’s hands flew to your head, grasping your hair at the root and tugging at it until your scalp throbbed; an undeniable stinging sensation that forced you to do its bidding. He pushed you down, your knees once more hitting the blood sodden earth. Once again, your eyes fell on the dead body lying only inches from you, yet Aemond forced your eyes upwards, tugging at your hair until he had your undivided attention.
It was obvious what he wanted, and he knew just how to make you squirm while getting it. Before long, his cock had sprung free of its tight denim prison and hung heavy before your face.
You could never quite grasp how well endowed he was for a petite man. It seemed so disproportionate to his body, yet you never once complained, except for the moments in that initial intrusion of course. The crisp night air nipped at the delicate skin. It was this cold air that only intensified the pleasure when your lips wrapped around his shaft, when the warmth of your mouth enveloped his cock, drawing him into your throat as far as you were physically able. His hips immediately chased a rhythm which mirrored the music from the other side of the wall, pistoning relentlessly, pounding your throat, causing you to gag and choke around him. There was no time to tease, no time to accommodate his size in your throat. Yet he didn’t let you move. His fingers flexed at your scalp, coaxing your mouth deeper still. The pain prickled, a sharp stinging sensation, yet it was dulled by the force of his merciless thrusts. His hips kept up an unforgiving pace, chasing a release that all too quickly approached.
Before long, your throat was painted by his unending supply of semen, as unrelenting and demanding as the tempo of his hips against your jaw. You greedily swallowed each and every drop, milking his cock with hollowed cheeks. He was stunned at your veracious appetite for his cum, the haze of orgasm washing heavily over his tired eyes, yet you kept up your enthusiastic pursuits. Even after release, Aemond stayed rock hard. His solid phallus throbbed in your mouth, veins pulsating against the muscle of your tongue even as he pulled out and let it rest on the tip, the protruding vasculature quivering against the warmth of your lips. The thought of ruining your cunt as one of his victims lay alongside you had him ready almost immediately, every inch of his body thrumming at the prospect. To see the woman he craved and the man he so furiously butchered laying side by side became part of the fantasy, part of the game.
The fear present in your eyes, mixed with a shameful desire for what he had to offer only spurred his arousal, the war raging in your mind between sheer terror and a desire for absolute pleasure evident in tear-stained eyelids. Your mascara had run down your cheeks, painting your face as it fell. Aemond admired his work, yet he was only getting started. His desire to ruin you, to take exactly what he wanted from your pretty cunt and have you fall apart around him was titillating.
For months, he watched you play the part of the dutiful girlfriend, yet you entertained lustful stares from random men. Holding their leering gazes across a room. It was a shame, but he simply had to punish you, to mark you as his own. If you didn't submit, if you wouldn't behave…well..Killing you was never part of the plan, but his blade was thirsty, and brats must be shown the error of their ways. Perhaps he'd show some mercy if you were good.
His hands remained interwoven with your scalp, fingers tugging at the roots tightly to keep you in line. The sting provided a sharp reminder that your boyfriend had in fact killed a man, who laid face down in the dirt only inches from your feet. Yet you couldn’t help the heat of arousal building with every tug. As Aemond dragged you from your knees to your feet, pulling you tight to his chest before spinning you around and pinning you against the wall, the coil in your core grew increasingly tight. He didn’t even have to fuck you to make you a quivering mess beneath him. Any trace of fear left seemed to leak down your leg with evidence of your arousal. Your face grazed the pebbledash finish on the side of the house, but it wasn’t long before he forcefully arched your back, pulling your head backwards by the hair and pressing your cunt against his tumescent cock. He didn’t even need to undress you; he had easy access once your panties were pushed aside. Aemond loved it when you wore such short dresses; he fantasised about moments like this. Your underwear was sodden, you didn’t even need to be touched to be ready for Aemond’s intrusion into your body. “Hm,” he snickered, that knowing smirk plastered firmly onto his chiselled face. It was amusement, laced with derision and mocking, something completely foreign to your ears from a man you only knew as loving, though truthfully, you had clearly ignored many aspects of his personality, perhaps you saw it and ignored it in favour of his more amorous qualities. Desire can cloud judgement, and you’d definitely misjudged Aemond.
He took full advantage of the ample lubrication. Nudging the folds of your cunt with his spongey pink tip, he tilted his hips and found the right angle so that he could easily plough into you with devastating effect. In one swift motion, Aemond speared your cunt with his impressively thick cock. Another ear-splitting scream left your lips, this time caused by the force of being impaled by your boyfriend's egregiously large penis rather than a corpse scaring the life out of you. Usually, he gave you time to adjust, inched his way in, and let your walls stretch to accommodate his size, but tonight he saw fit to punish you, to brutally defile your body as he saw fit. Perhaps it was retribution for letting your eyes linger on another longer than appropriate, perhaps this was bubbling within him for a long time. He didn’t stifle your screams this time, he let them ring out for everyone to hear.
Time passed in a blur, your body no more than a vessel for containing Aemond’s rage. You were pinned against the wall by his veined forearms, blood pumping through his body with the exertion. You could do little to adjust to his onslaught, your body didn’t have time to get used to the feeling. His sharp hips pistoned against the plump curve of your arse, the sound of skin slapping echoing out into the hollow night. You knew you’d be bruised, your skin would bear the mottled remnants of his anger for days, stained with multicoloured blotches. You let your mind wander, settling into the thick fog of pain and numbness. It’d be over in just a minute, with the pace Aemond had set; he was sure to come undone quite quickly. There was no restraining raw, animalistic desire and his was on full display. Eventually, the pain of his forceful penetration dulled, the sharp sting muted, and all too soon you felt the familiar coil settle in your core. You knew there’d be no relief, yet you allowed yourself to hope, to picture the sweet release that could come, if he was merciful.
This wasn’t reminiscent of any other time you’d fucked, any other time he used your body for his pleasure. There was no love present here, no affection, only crude carnal desire. Raw, unfiltered, tainted with ego and testosterone. Pure adrenaline coursed through his system, driving each callous thrust. There was no hint of gentility in his movements, no trace of the man you’d once made love to. This monster chased his own high, using your flesh as he saw fit. Your skin would bear the evidence; it’d remind you of this night even when the memory dulled. Even when the haze of potential pleasure clouded your recall of his brutality. Mottled bruising would stain the surface, remind you of the sudden appearance of this alter ego, this second self Aemond had long hidden. A bloodthirsty creature that lingered underneath the surface, and reared its head when jealousy spilled over. Considering the alternative, being used as no more than a fleshlight was a preferable outcome. Considering the violence you’d seen at his hand, the body that day in the dirt as a result of his rage, being used for his sexual release was the least egregious path.
Yet, even though your mind knew all this was wrong, that you were upset and betrayed, that you wanted the gentle man you loved back, you couldn’t deny the physical response your body had to being so roughly handled. You couldn’t deny the burning between your legs, the ever tightening coil as his cock ravaged your cunt. And though your mind had slightly more trouble overcoming the whole jealous rage-murder-thing, your body seemed more than capable of withstanding each revenge fuelled thrust, each slap of skin and bone against your delicate flesh. Even the sound of his pale skin smacking against yours drew goosebumps to the surface and sent a fresh shiver through your bones. You knew you’d fall apart around him soon. The question was, would he find his high before your banks burst around him?
Aemond certainly wasn’t shy about making noise, letting his guttural grunts ring out into the night. He didn’t care who heard, he didn’t care who witnessed the punishment he inflicted upon you for casting your eyes towards another. He watched your body swallow his cock, over and over, as his hips kept up their punitive pace. Somehow, the sight of his cock disappearing into your body, sheathed within such warmth, it pulled emotion from him that he never knew he had. He didn’t think he was capable of forgiveness, of being anything but cold and vengeful. Yet this seemed like a fitting punishment for you, taking his length over and over, taking him so deeply into your body that he felt the very essence of you coming apart around him. The moonlight danced on your juices, which coated his cock from tip to base. It was mesmerising, hypnotising, evidence of your arousal and devotion, even under such gruelling circumstances. Aemond felt the familiar flutter of your walls around his shaft, the telltale sign that you were on the precipice of release. Yet you held yourself together, you held your peak back. And he would drag you there, he’d show you just how merciful a violent man could be, with the evidence of his passion staring at them from the cold ground.
Aemond’s change of heart was sudden and rather shocking. Instead of verbalising his ideas, instead of communicating, he halted his brutal assault all at once, pulling his pants up around shaking knees and leaving you empty, without warning or any thought for your building pleasure.
You just stood, in a state of shock and right on the edge of release, desperate for relief, when it stood tantalisingly close. He hadn’t finished, he didn't even wipe himself off, he just…stopped. And before you could comprehend why, Aemond’s hand found the nape of your neck. His grip was tight, consuming, his touch like tongues of flame against the contrasting chill of the night air, yet he didn’t grab tight enough to cause you pain. Just to bend you to his will, to let you know that you belonged to him, and him alone.
He pulled you into the warmth of the house once without a word, ignoring the sheen of sweat on your brow, and the red hot flush that burned beneath your skin from his efforts. As you walked through sticky swathes of drunken people, you kept your eyes trained on the beer stained floor, hoping that nobody would notice your disheveled state. The crowd were too engrossed in their bottles to notice, but you were certain everyone had heard your lurid activities outside, even above the din of the playlist that blasted through crackling speakers in the living room. Approaching the one person you knew would miss your presence, you said a quiet goodbye to Helaena before disappearing through the sea of inebriated bodies, into the ink-black night with Aemond guiding your way. His hands gripped your spine like a vice, directing every step, controlling the depth and pace of every breath you took. Yet there was something oddly freeing about it. Something strangely comforting about removing your autonomy and giving complete control to this unhinged human.
He controlled your every move, even when his hands weren’t on your body. You felt his red hot stare lingering as he rounded the bonnet, making his way to the driver door.
The dark leather creaked as he sank into the plush seat, the material shifting under his weight, accommodating and molding to his shape as he settled into it. It gave way to him like clay, fitting to his svelte yet strangely dense and muscular form. He didn't reach for the radio, didn't force small talk where it wasn't needed. From the minute the key turned in the ignition, Aemond had you right where he wanted you; unsatisfied and on the edge of reason. He left you empty and confused, waiting on tenterhooks for his next move.
As he steered into the night, with only the glow of the headlights shining against the tarmac, his hand moved to rest on your thigh, long fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving crescent shapes in their wake. He may as well have branded you, his touch felt like flames nipping at your skin. Not once did that hand leave your thigh, not once did he lift his fingers from their resting place.
Each squeeze made your breath hitch in your chest, each time getting a little tighter, pinching the skin just a little more. You knew there was a chance those marks would be permanent, scars to remind you exactly who you belonged to, like a tattoo carved into flesh.
Passing streetlights illuminated the smirk permanently painted onto his face. The pale glow from the outside glinted off of his prosthetic eye, catching the sapphire hue and somehow making Aemond look even more menacing. Each flickering bulb formed a rhythm; you found yourself tapping your fingers to the beat of each one as it whizzed by. Perhaps it was a way to distract from the sting of nails digging into your thigh muscle, perhaps it was a coping mechanism - a way to make sense of all that had happened tonight, and all that was sure to come in the early hours of morning. Despite the pleasure you were denied, and the lingering ache within you from Aemond's onslaught, you couldn't help but recall the horrors you had seen also.
You’d left that man lying face down in the dirt. Would he be found by some other drunken soul, stumbling over his chilled corpse as they sparked up a cigarette? Wound someone find out who had led him to his inevitable death?
The torturous silence stretched into the night, the only sound underneath that metal roof were the mingled hushed tones of your combined breaths.
No door could contain Aemond's fervour, no barrier of wood could keep him from his plans. As soon as his feet crossed the threshold, he pulled you down the hall, pulling you into the bathroom hastily. He didn't verbalise his carefully crafted plans, he never once let you know where his mind was going, you simply followed wordlessly, accepting your fate as it came.
You certainly didn't expect plump lips to meet your own in an unusually passionate embrace, before backing you into the shower, still fully clothed. You didn't question it, but your eyes clearly communicated your confusion, ad Aemond answered with a familiar cheeky grin.
His hand reached behind you, releasing the water from its chamber. It was hot, like fire in liquid form. Like dragon fire, tongues of flame licked at the surface of your skin. Aemond didn't seem to notice, it didn't seem to faze him, and immediately crowded around you, backing you against the glass wall. He had less grip under the running water, his hands couldn’t get purchase on your skin. Clawing hands slipped under the flow of running water, yet that didn't hinder his frenzied actions.
He crowded you against the glass, held your body tightly with one hand, while the other wandered to the slick column of your throat. Nimble fingers wrapped around delicate skin, pressing slightly on either side. Just enough to remind you of his power, just enough to keep you malleable under his touch.
He’d already punished you that night, taken his anger and malice out thoroughly on your pliant cunt. So instead of abusing his power and alienating the one good thing he had, he decided to incentivise good behaviour. To show you he could be the devoted man you thought he was, as well as the one you found tonight. To keep you truly under his thumb, he needed to be merciful as well as vengeful. Besides, it was fun to watch you fall apart under his touch, to watch your eyes roll back in your head as his body brought you immense pleasure. Dropping to his knees, Aemond hooked one of your thighs over his shoulder as you braced yourself against the glass, eyes widening with each surprising development. You could scarcely believe the vision before you, it was a shocking u-turn, a swift pivot back to the passionate, tender man you called yours only hours earlier, though that sharp edge remained. The man you thought you knew so well was not lost, merely buried beneath the thin veil of a monster. You just let it happen, not daring to question his intentions, not daring to interrupt.
A hot tongue darted from his jaw, catching the falling water on its rough surface before plunging to its purpose. His jutting chin nuzzled between your legs, his pointed nose angled slightly upwards to stimulate your sensitive clit. Aemond knew what he was doing, he always did, but this night he set about devouring you with renewed purpose and surprising enthusiasm. One dazzlingly blue eye peered up at you from between your folds. He seemed to know just where to apply pressure, how to stimulate the most sensitive spots that would make you melt into his mouth. He was still the man who devoured you at every turn, who took pleasure in pleasuring you. But this time seemed different, this time he seemed determined to watch you come undone, to assert dominance in the most unlikely of positions. Every breath, every sweet exclamation and high pitched whine only fed his ego further. You were truly and devastatingly under his thumb, and you knew it. With one swipe of his tongue, you’d fallen into his trap. There was no escaping it now.
So instead of fighting the pleasure that welled deep within, that wrung tighter with each lapping sweep of his textured tongue you gave yourself over to it. You resigned yourself to the duality of his wanton violence, to his murderous tendencies and slightly insane possessive nature, with the man that knelt before you, the one you'd fallen for. You even allowed yourself to enjoy it, to lose yourself in it and lap up each and every ounce of tainted love Aemond deemed fit to give.
Even over the patter of running water, your exclamations of ecstasy echoed between the thick glass panes keeping you aloft. Your knees had long buckled beneath your tired frame, you were only kept upright by Aemond's strong shoulders and one solid sheet of glass behind your back.
It wasn't long before you found the pleasure you were earlier denied in a warm supping tongue, ravaging your cunt as if it’d never taste your flesh again. As if your skin contained the sweetest of nectar, a delicacy Aemond sought out most fervently.
It was merely minutes before you were spilling into the open caverns of his mouth, your body succumbing to his expert ministrations, seceding its battle with guilt and fear to an overwhelming blanket of ecstasy. Aemond sucked every drop from your dripping cunt, licked and sucked your swollen clit long past the point of release, until he had you writhing around his head, begging for relief from the almost painful overstimulation. It was only then, as your pleading rang in his ears, that Aemond finally relinquished his efforts, and made his way back up your body, to share his reward with your waiting mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his searing kiss. He claimed every inch of you, everything you had was his.
And now, as he gave you everything you wanted, you were more than willing to succumb to his every whim.
Though when the haze of pleasure wore off, when the coil in your gut had been let loose and you could think clearly, your mind reeled, remembering every gory detail the night held.
You were truly stuck, wedged firmly under his thumb, and Aemond knew exactly how to keep you pliant and willing, he knew exactly how much your body yearned for his hands, how you couldn’t possibly resist the call of his body, even when your mind fought to escape.
The next morning, knuckles rapped on sagging wood that could tell a multitude of stories. Glazed eyes opened the door to reveal local police, investigating a missing person's report.
The man without a name, the corpse in the cold, who everyone assumed had Irish goodbyed, never made it home. Yet another young man in recent weeks who never graced their own front doors again, who disappeared without a trace. His body had been discovered tossed onto the side of a blackened road, far from anyone who loved him, or even knew his name. His roommates called it in, knowing he was supposed to walk home that night. They knew he'd never stay out, never leave his cat unattended without saying anything. It was out of character for him to stay out without so much as a text, or posting about his night. They knew something was very wrong when he didn’t grace their flat by 4am, and they raised the alarm.
Two level headed cops interviewed every hungover face in that living room, every person that stayed and slept where they stood. As expected, memories were foggy, clouded by alcohol and recreational drugs, now wreaking havoc on tired bodies. Yet despite hazy recollections of that night, Aemond’s name came up a few times for having disappeared throughout the night. Sore heads and cloudy memories all pointed to Aemond as acting suspiciously, though nobody outrightly suspected him of being a killer. A few names graced tired lips, a few people who had left early, some who had a reputation for trouble, some who were known to disappear without saying anything. Yet it was Aemond that drew attention, it was him that stuck in the clouded minds of everyone who attended that night.
It wasn’t long before trouble graced your doorstep, the hollow sound of knuckles knocking at your door stirring you from sleep, and bringing you out into the hallway. You were groggy, moving slowly, but you heard someone at the door. Aemond was already up, and had answered the front door clad in nothing but his boxers. To some it might have been seen as pure laziness, you knew better. You knew that the sight of his sculpted body would throw off whoever was on the other side of that door, knocking at an ungodly hour as a migraine rattled through your brain. You could barely hear what they were saying from your perch atop the stairs, but you did hear several questions being asked, and so out of curiosity, you wandered to the landing to get a better view. It was the police. Shit.
Every morose detail came flooding back to you, in grotesque clarity. The blood, his face under the pale moonlight, the wound that spanned the breadth of his neck. The violence and brutality of it all. You’d honestly forgotten most of it, the vivid details were diluted by alcohol and knocked loose by Aemond’s bipolar behaviour afterwards. But seeing two officers in uniform grace your apartment door brought it all back, including the overwhelming sense of horror. It was all you could do to run to the bathroom and rid yourself of the guilt before someone spotted you.
After you’d expelled your guilt into the porcelain bowl, washing your face with cold water and tidying yourself up to the best of your ability, you decided to join Aemond downstairs. It was better than hiding. You only caught part of the conversation, and even as you descended the stairs, you heard pointed voices echoing in condescending tones.
“You’re not in any trouble,” one of them said kindly, ‘the good cop,’ Aemond thought distastefully, though he didn’t for one second let his face reflect his true thoughts. “Right now we’re just following some lines of inquiry and your name has come up a lot.”
Another, more stern voice chimed in quickly after. “Seems enough people were concerned about your disappearing acts on the night in question that they thought it worthwhile mentioning.”
“Am I under arrest, officers?” he sighed, almost bored at their probing line of questioning. You cringed at his blatant display of ego, you knew that this alter Aemond was different, somewhat maniacal but you never thought what would happen when he was confronted with true authority. Even still, you made your way over to them and stood by his side, giving a polite nod to the officers.
“Well that depends son, you have anyone else that can account for your whereabouts on the night, anybody who can solidly swear they were with you the entire time?”
Silence. He looked to the side, throwing his eyes in your direction, slightly confused, but also betrayed by your hesitance.
Aemond deflated, he thought of the fear in your eyes when you'd discovered the true depths of his depravity last night, the look of betrayal when he’d pressed the metal of his blade to your skin and watched the trickle of blood there. Somehow he expected obedience.
“I will make sure you never forget who you belong to,” he’d said at the time and he’d hoped his actions last night were enough to enforce upon you that no matter what happened now: no cuffs, bars or barbed-wired fences would ever change the fact that he had killed and would kill again to remind you of this fact.
“That’s what I thought..” the tougher cop smirked after a few moments of uneasy, weighted silence, “Aemond Targaryen you are under-”
Realising the opportunity before you, seeing your chance at escape from this dire situation of your own making, you kept your mouth firmly shut. You never anticipated just how viscerally your body would react to the jingling of handcuffs though, the cold metal struck a chord within you, pulling something along the lines of guilt and sending a feeling akin to pity bubbling to the surface. Your resolution to stay silent broke in a matter of seconds, your steel will crumbling before you could stop yourself.
Just as he was about to be placed in cuffs, his eyes locked with yours once more and disappointment turned to rage in an instant. There was no pleading to be found there, just a look, a look that made your stomach clench and the words were wrenched from you before you even had time to think. One glance from dazzlingly blue eyes was all it took for the words to come tumbling from your lips. "He was with me all night” you blurted and the cop stopped mid arrest-speech. You regretted it as soon as you heard the words form in the air before you, but it was too late. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked at you in a way that made you feel small and far too bare. You had given Aemond a way out, an escape from a fate he truly deserved.
“All night you say?” he asked, tone mocking and you were nodding wide-eyed and heart racing.
“And you would be willing to swear that before a judge now would you sweetheart?”
Something about his mocking tone, or his condescending use of the word sweetheart had you bridling and you stuck your chin out stubbornly.
“I’ll swear it to anyone you want me to, he never left my sight all night. I can even go into the details of what exactly we were doing when we ‘disappeared’ each time if you’d like.”
‘That’s my girl’, Aemond thought as the police officer was forced to unclasp the bracelets from his narrow wrists and he grinned knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. You’d had your chance to escape him, and now he knew resolutely that you were lovestruck, even in the face of everything you’d seen and he had you undeniably stuck, under his thumb.
With an alibi now firmly in place they had no choice but to take your statements and be on their way, any hope they had of pinning it on Aemond dissipated with your sworn statement and their demeanour toward him completely changed.
Aemond himself had switched into charming mode, you’d seen it a thousand times before, you had yourself been victim to it, but it still scared you how easily he slipped into it and how capable he was of making people believe him and bend to his will.
“Whoever the killer’s after, I'm glad they have you guys to protect them” Aemond uttered to the retreating police, flashing a fake smile their way before turning his back.
“City’s finest…” he whispered under his breath, as they walked in the opposite direction, leaving you to a fate of your own making. As he pushed past you, once more entering the cosy apartment, Aemond whispered a final sentence that made your blood run cold at the utterance.
“You can't run from who you are baby ..none of us can”
Taglist: (no pressure) @volklana @thenameswinter99 @suntizme @zaldritzosrose @dreamilypurplepillar
Summary: Remus has spent his whole life pushing people away. Before they could get fed up of him. Before they realised the weight of loving him. Before they could leave first.
Afterall, how could anyone ever choose to actually stay with him?
But when his fears threaten to actually push away the only people he's ever truly wanted to stay, he's forced to face the fact that maybe all this time he had been the one running away.
You wrapped your arms around Sirius from where he was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming hot mug of tea in hand and placed a kiss to his unruly black mane.
He hummed at the contact and turned in your arms to kiss you properly, hands sliding up to cup your face and you smiled into the kiss.
“You look shattered love,” you said softly, pulling away to look into his tired eyes, hunkering down to rest your hands on his thighs.
“Why don’t you catch some sleep while I’m out?”
“Where are you going?” he whined needily, reaching for you.
“I’ve got that cooking class,” you laughed “Remember I told you and Remus during the week that I was going to learn to make those dumplings that you both love so much.”
Sirius shook his head and sighed, “You’re too good for us.”
“Is everything okay, between you both?”
Sirius sighed and ran a tired hand over his face, and you pried his hands away and held them in yours.
“He’s moody, snappy. I feel like I can’t ask him anything without getting my head bitten off.”
You nodded in silent agreement, you had been getting the same treatment for the past few days too.
“Wanna come to the class with me, might be a bit of a laugh? The Christmas lights are up in town. We could take a little wander after class and have a look?”
“Maybe a cheeky pint too?” he tried gently and you laughed a little.
“Definitely a pint!”
“I’ll grab my coat,” he rushed and you smiled in his absence.
When Remus was like this, it was so easy to get sucked into the misery and quietness of the flat, it would do Sirius good to get out for a bit.
Sirius returned with his black leather coat and scarf on and you momentarily considered skipping the class altogether.
“Told Rem we were heading out,” he said as you pulled the door closed behind you and pulled your own coat tighter around you.
“What did he say?” you mused.
“Piss off then and turn the light off,” Sirius laughed and you laughed too, you just couldn’t take offence to what Moony said when he was in these moods before the full moon.
The class actually ended up being a laugh, there was free wine and Sirius strangely took it very seriously, face pulled into a concentrated frown, tongue poking out as he worked on his batch.
You couldn’t help but reach out and place a dusting of flour on his nose, only to lean forward to kiss it away.
And then blanching when he flicked his own dusting of flour all over your hair.
You didn’t even get into trouble for laughing and you sort of wondered if maybe you and Sirius should make this a regular thing.
Hours later after you were both warm with wine and the dumplings you’d gotten to cook and eat, you wandered down Oxford Street arm in arm, looking in awe at the twinkling lights and into shop windows, making mental lists of presents for Lily and James, Peter and Mary and most excitedly, little Harry.
“Do you want to wander down Carnaby Street love, I know it’s your favourite,” you had walked on a little and turned sharply when you realised that Sirius wasn’t beside you, he was looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite read, eyes almost glassy.
“What?” you asked slightly panicked.
“I really love you. You know that don’t you? I really, really love-”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his and he relaxed, “So that was a yes to Carnaby Street?”
“Should we get this for Rem?” you wondered out loud to Sirius showing him the red and green tartan blanket in your hands “It looks really cosy and he’s always happier when he’s cosy.”
Sirius laughed and extended the goods in his own hand, a collection of honeycomb chocolate bites made in the Highlands, “For our Moony,” he smiled.
“Should we get home to him then?” you replied after finishing another glass of wine, the little pub you had stopped off in was beginning to get busier now and you were both just the right level of merry.
“Yeah I’m missing him,” Sirius admitted and you agreed.
“Me too!”
When you landed back into your flat, all rosy cheeked and still slightly buzzing from all the wine you’d both drank, the soft lamps were on and Remus was sat reading on the sofa.
“Hello love,” you purred, reaching forward to press a kiss to his forehead and he gruffly huffed “How nice of you both to remember me!”
“Remus-,” Sirius deadpanned, “I stuck my head in to tell you we were popping out!”
“Hours ago!” he snapped.
“Don’t be like that Moony,” Sirius said hunching down on his hunkers and looking up into Remus’ eyes lovingly “Our love had booked a cooking class to learn how to make those dumplings we’re obsessed with, you weren’t feeling well so I tagged along, that’s all.”
“And the wine threw itself down your throats did it?” he snarked, butting Sirius’s hands off.
“I- I’m sorry,” Sirius muttered, shrinking in on himself, all traces of the tipsy high you’d both been on fading quickly, “I thought getting out of your hair for a bit would make you happy.”
“Yeah well thinking isn’t always your strong point Black is it?”
“Remus,” you pleaded and then raised the small plastic bag in your hand, “I bought everything I need to make the dumplings, I thought we could make them for you tomorrow, it might make you feel better, or- I could do them now it would take an hour or two but I’d do it for you-”
“-I’ve gone off them, don’t waste your time.”
You couldn’t help the sting of tears in your eyes as you made your way into the kitchen to put the ingredients away, biting your lip hard so you wouldn’t cry.
Remus when he was like this always had the distinct ability to make you feel like you’d done something wrong even when you hadn’t.
You could hear Remus and Sirius arguing in the Sitting Room, and you braced yourself against the counter.
He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it.
You were repeating it like a mantra in your mind, but it didn’t make it any easier.
You made your way back into the room, hoping to ease the tension.
“My moods?” Remus leered and Sirius was pacing.
“Yes Remus! Your moods, you’ve been in one for days, sulky and snappy. We can’t say or do anything that you're not biting our heads off. So what is it, is it just the moon coming up or is there actually something wrong?”
Remus rolled his eyes and scoffed “You wouldn’t get it!”
“Well not if you don’t try me! All this brooding in silence doesn’t help anyone, it doesn’t make you noble!"
“Well you’d know all about noble wouldn’t you?” he shot back and Sirius stopped pacing and went straight as a poker.
You both knew what Remus was jabbing at with that, The Noble House of Black.
“You really can’t help yourself when you’re like this can you?” Sirius cried and the look of hurt that crossed his features, made your heart sink into your stomach, “When you're suffering everyone around you has to suffer too, because god forbid there was one ounce of fucking joy in this flat when you’re suffering!”
“Don’t you dare!” Remus spat, “Don’t you dare lecture me about suffering as if you have the faintest fucking clue!” suddenly Remus was up out of his seat, long slender finger pointed towards Sirius’ chest “All you do is need and need. Need us to love you! Need James to validate every little fucking thing you do. Need me to forgive you. Need her to fucking Mother you because your own one fucked you up so badly! And you’ve spent years now playing the bloody victim and I don’t have space for it tonight- do you understand that? I. Don’t. Have. Space” he snapped, jabbing his pointed finger and stepping towards Sirius and you were shouting out of nowhere, shrill and frantic.
“Enough!”
It was enough to make both of them stop in their tracks, wide eyed and frozen.
“You can be so cruel sometimes!” you cried and both of them turned to look at you, tears in your eyes, both of them equally shocked because you never raised your voice, and you certainly almost never cried.
You picked up the discarded bundle of things Sirius had carried home, the blanket, the chocolates and a book of crossword puzzles he had spotted in the store when you were buying the ingredients to make the dumplings, and flung them at Remus one by one, he flinched trying to dodge the missiles you were flinging at him.
“I went out of my way to try to learn to cook the things you like to make you happy. The only fucking things we bought tonight were for you, to try and make the next few days a little easier for you, and you can't even speak to us nicely. You shoot to kill- you go for the jugular every single time. Your words hurt and I've had enough!”
Your chest was rising and falling in poorly concealed anger and Remus was looking at you horrified.
“Sirius is not your emotional punchbag, and it's very clear that there is something more than the moon wrong but you'd rather lash out and make us feel like we can't do anything right by you than let us be there for you and that's fine. I'm not going to try wrangle it out of you anymore,” you spat hands flying up in surrender, and moving towards the coat rack and pulling your coat on harshly “In fact I don't have anything else to say to you tonight!” you snapped and reached for the Floo Powder.
“Where are you going?” Sirius asked gently and you sniffed.
“James and Lily’s,” you huffed, “Don't worry I won't tell them about what a right prick you've been,” you shot at Remus, and neither of them attempted to stop you and so you stepped into the fireplace and disappeared.
Remus collapsed down onto the couch in what looked like a state of shock and Sirius stood looking at the fireplace you had disappeared through seconds before.
“You should go after her,” Remus said eventually, softly, all his earlier anger completely dissipated.
“And leave you on your own, you great prat?” Sirius said affectionately.
“It's what I'd deserve,” he said exhaustedly, running a hand over his face, “Because she's right.”
Sirius collapsed in an armchair across from Remus and spoke tentatively “She's just hurt. And she hates it when we're cruel to each other.”
“She has every right to be, I have been a ‘right prick’ the last few days, and the worst part is I know I've been doing it, I just didn't know how to stop.”
“Remus,” Sirius bit his lip, “Try to explain it to me. I won't butt in or argue. I just want to understand.”
“I'm difficult to love, don't deny it because it's true - with you and her it's so easy and I guess I had got it into my head this week that both of your lives would be so much easier without the weight of me in it.”
“Don't say that, please don't say that,” Sirius was on the verge of tears.
“It's true though,” Remus sighed “I'm a great bloody black cloud pissing on everything.”
“That's not true, not all the time at least, this week has been tough mate I won't lie, but I fucking adore you, I couldn't live without you.”
Remus smiled shyly “Even now?”
“Especially now, and you only have to look at the effort our girl goes to on the daily to look after you to know she feels the same.”
“I've never seen her that angry before,” Remus sighed.
“I've been on the receiving end of it once before and it is scary,” he didn't need to say when-they both knew he was referring to the Prank he had pulled in their fifth year.
“I-” Remus began and then decided to go for it anyway “I've been so jealous all week, I guess I wanted you both to fuss over me and I didn't know how to ask for it, and the more I pushed you both away the easier it was to lie to myself that you were both leaving me out.”
Sirius reached around the floor to pick up the items you had flung at Remus and organised them neatly and placed them gently on his lap.
Remus eyed the items carefully, a soft tartan blanket, some chocolates and the crossword book and he couldn't help the tears welling in his eyes and the ache in his chest.
“Our every and only thoughts are of you,” Sirius said and reached down to kiss him.
“I promise to try to stop using you as my emotional punchbag, I'll do better for both of you, I promise.”
“I love you,” Sirius said, hunkering down before Remus and looking up into his eyes, pleading with him to see it as the truth and Remus released a shaky breath.
“God I love you too,” he rushed and then he was surging forward to kiss him.
Remus slept fitfully that night, as he always did the night before a full moon but it was even worse tonight because you hadn’t come home yet.
Sirius was asleep soundly beside him, nestled into him for warmth and he was eternally grateful that no matter how hard he pushed, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that his beautiful love would get fed up and leave him, Sirius was always steadfast and resolute in the fact that he was going nowhere.
Remus realised with a jolt that he had been taking that for granted.
But you were not Sirius, what if you genuinely had had enough of the sour moods, of the brooding and the snappy comments.
He had to do better for you, you deserved better.
He thought of the way you always gave without taking, the way you gave yourself wholeheartedly to whoever you loved and never asked for anything back in return, and he had to admit to himself that he had taken your love and care for granted this past week, pushing and pushing until he had pushed you to your breaking point and it wasn’t good enough. He was so worried about you both leaving him that he suddenly realised that he had been the one who was running.
"Come home love, come home and let me make it right," he whispered into the night and Sirius rustled beside him.
The next day as Remus was brewing tea, your patronus appeared in the Living Room, stating a few words that had his heart in his mouth.
“Moody was here. Going on a mission with James, will be back after the moon. Take care.”
Remus halted all actions and stared at Sirius horrified, “She- mission? She won’t be back tonight?”
“She’ll be with James,” Sirius tried to reason but his own face was pulled into a worried frown, “He won’t let anything happen to her.”
“I wanted to put everything right before the transformation,” Remus almost whined, “I wanted to know that everything would be okay.”
“Love,” Sirius sighed, stepping into the kitchen and placing his arms around the taller man, “She is coming home alright? When you get back in the morning she will be here waiting for you as always.”
“I just- fuck- I need her. I really need her.”
“She’s coming home Moony,” Sirius promised into the shoulder of his lover, “She’s coming home.”
The transformation was awful and he very barely mustered the strength to apparate home.
There were fresh nail marks down the skin of his arms where he’d clawed at his own skin, and as soon as he landed in the kitchen of your tiny flat Sirius was fussing over him, cleaning his wounds and bandaging them.
“Where is she?” Remus croaked, voice raspy from howling at the moon all night.
“She’ll be here,” Sirius promised and had to force Remus to drink the sleep potion promising him he would try to wake him as soon as you got in.
The sun was beginning to set, casting dark shadows across the apartment and there was still no sign of you.
Remus was curled up on the sofa with the new blanket you had bought him pretending to read, and Sirius was wearing a line into the floor from pacing with worry.
You should have been home hours ago. You would never willingly not be here for Remus’ return.
You were always insistent on being the one to care for him after a full moon, there was no way, no matter how mad you were at him, that you would willingly make him suffer like this.
They both startled at the green burst of flame in the fireplace Remus rising to his feet immediately before you stumbled out, flinging yourself towards Remus, crashing into him and engulfing him in your arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” you were crying, rocking him in your arms for a few seconds before you pulled away to inspect him for any damage, huge worried eyes raking every inch of skin and cringing at the fresh marks on his arms.
“I should never have lost my temper with you. I should never have thrown those things at you- I wanted to take it back the moment I left but I was so ashamed of myself. I wanted to come straight back and apologise but then Moody was there and then there was the mission. I thought I would be back. I’m sorry I’m so sorry Moony.”
“It’s alright- it’s all alright my sweet girl, there is nothing to apologise for,” he promised, brushing his fingers through your hair. “It should be me who is apologising, I was absolutely rotten to you and Sirius all week.”
“But I knew what you would think,” you cried, “I knew that you would think that you were too hard to love, that you would be beating yourself up and thinking I’d left for good.”
Remus chuckled wryly because you had always had the uncanny ability to see right through him, to see his innermost darkest thoughts and reassure him otherwise.
“That’s why I wanted to be here first thing- I wanted to show you that none of it was true.”
“What happened love?” Sirius pressed gently.
“It was awful,” you admitted, “They were on us from the start, if James hadn’t been there, I’d be a gonner,” you admitted, there was no point in lying to them because you knew James would only tell them the truth, you untangled yourself from Remus’ arms to slip the arm of your cardigan down and showed them the huge gash that ran across the expanse of your collarbone in a diagonal line across your chest and down your arm to your elbow, where you had been sliced open with a severing charm, both of them were staring with the same horrified expressions, both of them afraid to move.
“James apparated us out of there, we did it five times just to be safe but he damn near nearly splinched himself in the process.”
Remus, who had already been pale from the previous night’s transformation had turned a deathly shade of white and Sirius collapsed down to his knees in front of you and ran a tentative finger along the healing line. You would be scarred for life because it was a magical wound and there were tears in his eyes.
“Who was it?” he asked, voice shaking.
“They were all masked, but it was Crouch who cursed me, I would recognise his weaselly voice anywhere.”
“Was Regulus there?” he asked horrified and you were shaking your head.
“I don’t know,” you said softly and his face hardened, as he rose to his full height again.
“Was he there?” he spat again and all you could do was nod, and he hissed, rising to his full height and pulling his eyes away from the red mark across your perfect skin.
The air was electric between the three of you now indicating that something would explode at the tension as it always did.
“Sirius,” you said softly, “None of that matters tonight. What matters is if something serious had happened to me you both would have doubted how I feel about you,” you said both but your eyes were boring into Remus.
“This war is about to get darker and more dangerous and I don’t want a single day to go by where you ever doubt how I feel again.”
“But something serious did happen,” Remus cried and your face softened.
“Come here,” you instructed and when he stepped into your arms you kissed him gently at first, but then wrapped your hands into the soft curls at the nape of his neck and grasped his hair and pulled hard to expose the skin of his throat to you and you latched your teeth onto the soft skin you found there, sucking and lapping at the skin until he melted into your arms, all gentle gasps and soft moans-argument forgotten.
You slid your arms under the hem of his jumper before you grasped it, and with a gentle tug pulled it over his head exposing the glorious pale and scarred skin of his chest to you, and for a moment he couldn’t meet your eye so you pressed your lips to every scar you could reach.
“‘I’m not going anywhere,” you promised him between kisses and when he was a gasping mess, you shoved him back down onto the couch and Sirius, who had been watching you with dark eyes moved over.
He was not as gentle as Remus had been, grasping you by the neck and crashing his lips onto yours.
“Darlings,” Remus whined, dragging a tired hand over his face.
“Shh,” Sirius husked “Just lay back and let us look after you.”
“Let us quell any doubts in that beautiful mind of yours about who we belong to.”
The argument could wait, this could not, and in the urgency of discarded clothes and bruising kisses, you were sure you had not left an ounce of room in Remus’ mind about you going anywhere else but here.
“I am sorry,” he muttered into your hair and you splayed a hand across his naked abdomen.
“We’re not going anywhere,” you promised and felt Sirius stir beside you from where he had collapsed in the bed post-sex.
“Going nowhere,” he mused half asleep in his post- orgasm bliss.
“I don’t mean to push you both away,” he whispered into the dark, “In fact that’s the complete opposite of what I want, but I know that I’m heavy and with the war getting more and more suffocating -I don’t know if I can change myself overnight, it’s going to take time and it’s okay to let me go if that’s what you need.”
“Just need you Rem,” you whispered against his chest, “Our thing. The three of us, that’s all I’ve ever needed.”
Your lips found his in the dark and soon you were drowning in the comforting weight of his much larger body on yours again as his hands slipped down your sides, claiming every inch of skin as his own, suddenly Sirius was wide awake and his own hands began to tug at your body, still satisfiedly sore from the last round.
“No more talking about anyone leaving,” he commanded, tugging Remus by the neck until they were kissing and Remus hands slipped down between your legs moving at an incredibly slow teasing pace as you arched up into his touch, gasping and Sirius grinned into the kiss.
“See Rem, she’s got no doubt in her mind where she belongs. But just in case, let’s remind her one more time.”
Authors note: based on this lovely request. I just hope it will live up to your expectations and thank you so much for trusting me with this story. I've missed writing for Sihtric
Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, loss of virginity, one bed trope with a mix of angst and miscommunication
Word Count: 10K
Summary: Traveling with Sihtric is easy, until it isn’t. The handsome Dane would fight a bear for you, but refuses to share a blanket? It all seems clear enough, especially when a delicate silver ring slips from his pouch and you realize his heart must already belong to someone else.
Rain drove you off the road long before sunset. The track had turned into brown and glitchy soup, the steady downpour soaking through every seam of your cloaks. Even the carefully rolled message under Sihtric’s cloak was damp at the edges despite the wrapping. By the time the inn came into view both of you were shivering hard enough that any conversation came out as chattering teeth.
“Thanks God,” you breathed, pushing your heels into the sides of your mare, to speed it up, although you instantly regretted your foolish eagerness, feeling the rain lashing harder against your face.
Sihtric pushed the inn door open, and the heat and smell of stew hit your face.
“If the gods are kind, they have dry beds,” he murmured, and you silently agreed.
Bits of rain clung to the dark threads of Sihtric’s braids, water slicking the sharp angle of his jaw, he shook himself like a dog on the threshold, trying and failing not to splash you.
The common room was surprisingly bright and tumultuous, illuminated by candles and the fire, burning low and steady in a clay-bricked hearth, casting a soft copper light over the people.
The rain had forced more than just one traveller to seek refuge in the small inn.
The innkeeper looked up from the counter, eyes first suspicious at the sight of the sword and Thor’s pendant on Sihtric’s chest, but softening at the sound of coins in the pouch you carefully placed on the old wood.
“Rooms?” Sihtric asked. He always did the asking. People answered him.
“Lucky you came when you did,” the woman said, wiping her hands on her apron. “One room left. Good mattress. Roof tight.” She cut you a knowing smile that included the rain on your hair and the mud-streaked hem of your damp cloak. “You’ll be wanting it.”
You glanced at Sihtric; he was already nodding. The agreement fell between you as easily as it always did: he handled the bargaining, you handled the coin. He handled the horses; you chose the road. He scouted; you observed. He checked your boots for thorns; your fingers rebraided his hair by firelight.
Neither of you named the way his eyes sometimes lingered, or how your pulse answered. He was your big brother. You were not bound by blood, but by something equally strong: by death.
After Osferth fell, word reached you late and crooked, carried by a monk who could not quite meet your eyes. You came to Bebbanburg with your brother’s rosary in your palm and questions burning your throat. The world had torn you apart when you were still small, yet Osferth had found you, had shown you there was life beyond the convent’s walls and pressed hope into your hands.
You were afraid that hope had died with him.
Sihtric was the one who had met you in the yard. You’d known him in passing from those rare days Osferth wrung free to come to visit or take you to the market, or smuggle you in the alehouse one evening. Even then, the broad-shouldered, quiet Dane’s gaze had warmed you like the sun, finding you in a crowded room without trying. Those big, mismatched eyes that once lit when they landed on you were shadowed now with grief.
There, in Bebbanburg’s inner yard while you waited for his lord to speak the hard truth, Sihtric swore softly, to Osferth as much as to you, that you would not be left unguarded.
Uhtred did not turn you away and soon enough you proved you were not just another mouth to feed. The sisters had done at least one thing right as they’d taught you your letters, whether out of principle or because Osferth’s persuasive look and a discreet handful of silver had helped, you never learned. Your talent was welcome in your new lord’s hall.
Sihtric took the sword-work and the scouting; you took the parchments and the listening. You were good at being overlooked, good at catching fragments of conversation and fitting them together to give Uhtred the right answers, not the obvious ones.
Suddenly there were three big brothers where you’d had one: the loud Irishman with a bear’s hug and a bigger heart; Uhtred, who wouldn’t let you call him lord, and Sihtric, steady as a star in the sky, rarely more than an arm’s length away.
Riding with Sihtric was easy. Sometimes it seemed you understood each other without words. One glance, one small nod, and it was settled, just like tonight.
You were taking that last room.
You slid a small stack of coins across the counter, and the woman’s fingers made them vanish before you could even blink.
The room was at the end of a narrow stair and a tighter hall, the door stuck halfway swollen with weather and Sihtric had to set his shoulder to it, pushing until the wood gave with a sigh.
It was small with one three-legged stool, a small table and a single hook hammered into the wall. One single bed sat at the wall opposite to the window with a straw-stuffed but clean mattress and one blanket from good thick wool. The fire in the small hearth had been let to embers and needed coaxing.
“It will do,” you said, because it had to. The roof did not drip, and the wind and rain were locked out at least for now. Maybe you were lucky and the weather would settle tomorrow.
Sihtric’s mouth did that brief, almost-smile that you were so used to as you smoothed water from his braids, retwisting one loosened plait behind his ear. He leaned into your touch with the trust of a big furry hound, eyes half-closed. You loved the feel of his hair, it was warm and thick, and silk-soft.
“I’ll see to the fire,” you whispered, drawing your hands away, and for one tiny moment his breath hitched, or so it seemed. You shook the thought off with a sigh. There was no reason, there was never any reason, to think he could see something more in you than a child that needed his protection.
You lowered yourself near the hearth, added a few logs to the embers and tried to coax the flame back to life with your breath. It took a while but it worked and the flame finally picked up.
When you rose, smoothing your damp tunic over your hips, Sihtric had already shrugged out of his wet cloak and hung it on the hook. You followed his example and watched water dripping steadily from its hem to a small dark circle on the floor before your eyes landed on the bed.
It looked even narrower than it had a heartbeat ago, not much wider than Sihtric’s shoulders, and you felt your stomach folding itself into a neat, complicated knot.
Sihtric’s eyes flicked to the bed, then to you, measuring the space, measuring you with something like caution banked behind his pupils, like a warrior assessing the tightness of a pass.
“You take it,” he said, too quickly. “I’ll…” He glanced at the cloak he’d hung on the hook, at the stool. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Don’t be foolish. There’s room…”
“There’s room for you,” he cut in, soft but firm.
It was not the words alone but their speed, the way he kept his eyes on the bed and never once on you. Heat rushed up your throat, then settled like a stone behind your ribs.
Sihtric took his cloak, dropped to the floor and spread it, smoothing it with his palm. “I’m used to it,” he said, and because he was trying to be kind, he added, “Truly.”
Of course he was. He had slept in ditches and under carts and upright with his back to a wall and his hand on a blade more times than you could count. Of course he would choose the cold floor, he would always choose your ease and comfort over his without thinking.
And you were supposed to be grateful, and you were, you really were, but something in you flared up at the same time, a mean little voice muttering: he will never see you differently, you’re just not enough… you know nothing of men… a wallflower…
“Don’t, be silly,” you said, and your voice came out softer than you meant. “You’ll wake with your joints cursing you and we both will freeze.”
“I’ve woken to worse,” he said, raking a hand over his hair. He looked at the bed again and then away, as if it might bite him. “We’ll eat,” he said finally, as if that were a solution to a problem neither of you would name. “Get warm. After that, we’ll see. I like the floor.”
You nodded because you didn’t trust your mouth with better words.
Sihtric stole a glance as you turned to the hearth, and the furrow between his brows eased, the way it always did when he watched you fuss over small tasks. For a heartbeat he let himself imagine those motions somewhere else: not in a small and cool, rented room but in a hall that was his and yours, a small house with a strip of garden, your hands busy with the ordinary chores of living. He exhaled and set the thought aside like a blade he wasn’t ready to draw.
It was getting harder to set it aside. The more miles you shared, the thinner that line felt. He’d told himself a hundred times he was your shield now because Osferth could not be. That was it, there was no place for anything else. But lately, he didn’t always trust himself to be just that. He looked from the bed to his cloak on the floor.
He had even considered asking Uhtred to send another companion on the road with you, someone safer, someone wanting less, but the thought burned him the moment it formed. If he didn’t trust his own restraint, how could he trust another man’s? He couldn’t risk you to a stranger.
The cloak on the floor would have to do. Some parts of a man obeyed less readily than his sword hand, especially when you stood too near, when your fingers threaded his braids, when your breath warmed the back of his neck. He would not touch you, he’d sooner bind his hands, but one careless shift and you would know it all the same, a treacherous confession against your thigh, his body speaking where his mouth would not.
He flexed his hand once, grounding himself in the simple work ahead: food, fire, sleep. Keep your wits, he told himself. You have a promise to keep.
Rain surged against the window shutters and somewhere below, the scrape of benches and a burst of laughter rose from the common room, rich with warmth you could almost feel through the boards. Your stomach, unhelpfully literal, chose that moment to complain.
Sihtric’s mouth tipped. “Stew before your belly declares war.”
“Stew,” you agreed, grateful for the way he could turn the air to something easy when he chose. “And an ale. Maybe two.”
“Two,” he said, and this time the smile reached his eyes. “But I’ll keep my wits.” He lifted a brow at your look. “So one of us remembers how to find the bed in the dark.”
You opened your mouth and then closed it again, because you did not know how to answer without saying more than the walls should hear.
“Come on,” you said instead and pushed past him to the door; it stuck again and he reached over your shoulder to set it free, his palm braced against the wood beside your cheek. The closeness came sudden and whole, his heat and the scent of him crowding your senses. Your breath tripped, his did too and for a suspended second you felt the weight of every almost-touch you’d ever shared.
He drew back a fraction, as he always did. “After you.”
Down the narrow stairs and into the din, Sihtric set his hand at the small of your back. You shivered but didn’t shrug him off. Of course you didn’t. It was a simple, protective touch telling you: I’m here, I’ve got you. You would have given anything for it to mean more, but you knew it didn’t.
“Stew?” the innkeep called.
“Two,” Sihtric answered, then added, “And two ales.”
You slid onto a bench by the fire, shoulder-to-shoulder, the place was crowded and there wasn’t much choice left. Heat from the hearth seeped through your damp clothes until your fingers remembered they were yours. The ale came and you took a sip. Mmm, it was sweet and strong, and warmed you all the way down.
Sihtric watched you over the rim of his mug.
“I really don’t mind the floor,” he murmured, low for you alone. “I don’t want you feeling crowded. Besides… I snore.”
“We’ll speak on it later,” you said, pretending your heart didn’t soften at the care in his voice. You bumped his elbow. “For now, feed me.”
The stew came thick and steaming, and you were halfway through the first bowl when Sihtric tipped his coin pouch over the table to see if there was enough for a second. A small clatter of pennies and clipped silver scattered in all directions and among them, something bright rolled out and flashed – a narrow band of worked silver, delicate and beautiful. You blinked.
Sihtric’s hand darted, quick as a hawk, as he scooped the ring back into his palm and swept it into the pouch with the coins. “Plenty,” he said a shade too lightly, already nodding at the innkeeper for another bowl.
Before you could ask, a man shouldered in from behind, pressing close to your elbow under the pretense of no space. “Crowded night,” he said with a loose grin. “Such a pretty voice in this place is a rare thing. Can I buy you another ale?”
You drew back an inch, looking for a gap on the bench that did not exist. Sihtric didn’t even bother to look up all the way, his voice came quiet and flat, sharp as the knife on his belt. “The lady is set.”
The man flicked his gaze over Sihtric as if weighing the risk, but the moment Sihtric finally met his eyes, the man’s grin thinned, he muttered something about touchy company and peeled off toward another table.
Sihtric’s attention returned to you as if the interruption had been a fly. “You all right?”
“Fine,” you said, though your skin buzzed with the aftertaste of being looked at like a thing on a shelf. The innkeeper put a fresh bowl and two second ales before you. You wrapped your hands around the cup to let your breath settle.
You should have let the moment go, except that you couldn’t.
“What was that?”
Sihtric tilted his head, wary. “The man? Don’t worry about him, he’s gone.”
“The ring,” you said, keeping your tone even, as if discussing the weather. “In your pouch.”
Sihtric went very still, he hadn’t expected you to have seen it. “A trifle,” he said at last, too casual. “Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.” You tried to make it sound like simple curiosity, but it came out too steady to be casual. “It was… pretty.”
He cleared his throat, eyes dropping to his ale. “Just a thing I… found,” the corner of Sihtric’s mouth tugged, annoyed with himself for lying poorly. “Bought,” he corrected, softer.
“For someone?” The question surprised you with how quickly it left your mouth.
A flush climbed the line of his throat, that surely had nothing to do with the heat of the drink. “It’s not…” He stopped, started again. “It’s nothing you need to fret over.”
You forced a small laugh. “I’m not fretting.” You were absolutely fretting. “It was just… delicate.”
His fingers tightened on the mug. “It is,” he said, and the admission sounded like it had cost him. His gaze skated to your hands where they cradled the cup, then jerked away. “I shouldn’t… It was foolish. I haven’t… worked out how… ” he bit the end off the sentence and took refuge in his ale, the swallow audible.
How to what? Gift it? To whom? The answer arrived in your chest like a punch. Of course, he’d found someone – some woman who had space for a man like him, the kind of space that wasn’t built on grief and old vows, a woman who would look right wearing a slim band of silver, who would know what to do with a man’s devotion, who would know how to please him.
You felt your stomach drop and then catch, the way it does when a cart hits a tree root. It made perfect sense of everything that didn’t. Of course that’s why he doesn’t see you.
“Well,” you said, amazed at how even you sounded. “She’s lucky.”
Sihtric’s head lifted as if you had struck him, confusion and alarm flaring at once. “Who?”
You stared at him, you couldn’t say the woman you bought the ring for without sounding ridiculous, so you just shrugged instead. “Whoever you mean to give it to.”
Sihtric’s mouth opened and closed without a single sound. The color in his face deepened and his hands flattened on the table as if he needed something solid to hold.
“It’s… I’ve not… It isn’t…” He shook his head, a small, helpless motion that looked nothing like him. “I’m making a muddle of it.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” you tried to hide behind your mug of ale.
“I know,” he said quickly, too quickly, and his gaze dragged to the pouch again. “I only… It’s not the right moment.” The last words came out raw enough to be true, and they didn’t help at all.
You drank to keep your mouth busy. “Right moments are like beds in this place,” you said lightly. “Hard to find, smaller than you want.”
He tried to smile. “Eat before it gets cold,” he added, nudging the second bowl of stew toward you like a peace offering.
You picked up your spoon and made it move even if you had suddenly lost the appetite. The room sounded far away and under the table, Sihtric’s thigh brushed yours and stayed there. It didn’t soothe, if anything, it made the ache sharper.
Upstairs, the bed would still be small, but down here, the world had narrowed to the weight of a silver ring you would never wear and a man who would prefer sleeping on the floor to sharing a blanket with you.
The second ale sat untouched by Sihtric’s elbow, while you’d drained yours to the dregs just to have something to do with your mouth besides ask questions you weren’t entitled to.
Sihtric watched you tip the cup, watched the frown you didn’t mean to wear and the crease between his brows deepened. He didn’t know where he’d misstepped, only that he had, and that the knowledge didn’t help, just made him clumsy.
You lifted the empty. “Another,” you called to the innkeep, too bright.
Sihtric’s hand came down just a touch to the table, steady. “We should go up,” he said quietly. “We need some rest.”
You blinked at the ale by his elbow. “You’ve not touched yours.”
“I’m keeping my wits,” he said, and the gentleness in it made something spark in you, not kind.
“I don’t need you to keep them for me,” you said, the bitterness in your voice making it sound low and rough. “I’m not a child.”
His jaw flexed. “I didn’t say you were.”
“You don’t have to,” you hissed much sharper than you had intended. “You decide. You always decide. Roads. When we stop. Bed. How much I drink, apparently.”
He breathed in like a man about to plunge himself into cold water. “I decide what keeps you safe.”
“Do you?” Your laugh was a small, brittle thing. “And why do you think you’re entitled to? You’re not my father, you’re not my brother,” you didn’t really want to say it, but the words escaped you before you managed to tuck them back, the hurt you didn’t even want to recognise burning a hole in your chest.
Sihtric went very still, contrition moving over his face like shadow, as his eyes flicked to your empty cup and then to your face. You stared back at him.
The innkeeper had caught your call and was already bringing another ale, but Sihtric cut it off with two fingers and a tiny shake of his head, then looked instantly stricken, realizing he’d done the very thing you accused him of. He swallowed.
“Please,” he amended quickly, turning back to you. “Let’s go up. Let me try again where there’s less noise between us. We need some sleep, the road ahead is still long.”
You wanted to argue, you wanted to stay and drink until the sting dulled and the ring turned into a simple circle of metal in a pouch belonging to someone else’s story, but the truth was your bones ached, you were tired and the room’s warmth had turned you sleepy, so the thought of climbing the stairs wasn’t that unappealing as you wanted it.
“Fine,” you said, which meant no, but I don’t know how to make this better here. You stood, the bench scraped the floor and Sihtric rose a heartbeat later. His untouched ale winked at you from the table as you left it behind.
The hall upstairs was colder, your breath showing in the air, the stuck door surrendered under Sihtric’s assertive palm, and the stubbornly small bed greeted you from its place at the wall.
Sihtric fed the fire this time while you slipped out of your boots and aligned them near the bed before sliding under the blanket without a word, turning your back to the room and to him, making yourself a stripe along the far edge, as if trying to blend in with the wall.
The mattress bowed, tugging you meekly toward the middle but you refused the slide by sheer will.
Sihtric lingered at the foot of the bed, hands loose at his sides. He didn’t move at first, but you could still feel him there.
You’d never turned cold on him before, and the shock of it rattled his bones as he spun the evening back.
The room breathed with the ember-glow from the heart, rain drumming against the shutters, and your small, stubborn stillness under the blanket.
Sihtric scrubbed a hand over his face. The pouch at his belt nudged his hip. Did it start there? He’d tried to speak and only stammered like a boy caught with warm bread under his tunic. How could he tell you he’d bought it for you? That he’d seen a delicate, beautiful thing and thought of your hands at once? He had no right to say that, and no good moment to give it. There wouldn’t be one.
He pictured you downstairs at the bench, the way your mouth had tried to smile and couldn’t quite, the flinch when he’d cut off your ale, the way your voice had gone careful. He hated that careful, he wanted your easy, your laugh, your elbow in his ribs and your cheeky feed me and the warmth you gave him without even noticing it, but it all came more and more seldom lately.
Sihtric sat on the edge of the bed as if it might buck him, careful not to jostle you, but the frame answered with a low, traitorous creak. He kept his eyes on the floor, looking at your turned back hurt too much.
You shivered under the thick wool, and he knew you’d been right, it would be warmer to share it. You’d offered. He’d refused, out of fear, not of you, but of himself. Had his clumsy excuses already betrayed him? Gods, let them not. He wanted you warm and he wanted you not angry with him.
“I don’t mean to make your world smaller,” he said into the half-dark. “Or to choose for you things that are yours to choose. If I do it, it’s fear that makes me.” He huffed a breath that might have been a laugh if it had any light in it.
You said nothing, the blanket rasped under your chin and your eyes burned in a way that had nothing to do with smoke from the heart.
“I don’t want you to feel kept,” he added, softer. “Only…kept safe.”
You pressed your lips together in a thin hard line. This was not what you wanted to hear.
“May I lie here?” he finally asked. “On top of the blanket. I’ll keep still.” He forced himself to wait for the beat where you could say no. You didn’t, but you also didn’t say yes.
He lowered himself slowly, staying on the wool, leaving a good hand’s width of air between you. The bed dipped and tried to pull you together, but he braced against it.
He studied the space between your shoulders, breathed in and reached, then stopped, swallowed, reached again, only his fingertips to the back of your hand, a touch light enough to take back as if it hadn’t been there.
You flinched, he reeled, withdrawing, fear spiking clean through his chest.
You didn’t want him to notice how your whole body trembled and ached for something you didn’t even know a name for, just that it had to do with his warm breath at your neck.
“I’m cold,” you whispered, and the tight band around Sithric’s ribs loosened a little.
“May I?” he asked again, quieter. “You choose. All of it. If you want me on the floor, say it and I’m there. If you want me to leave the room, I’ll take the rain. If you want…”
You didn’t answer with words, but you moved, you inched closer, just a finger’s width.
Your back still didn’t speak to him, and he hated it. Carefully he slid his forearm across your middle, letting the mattress dip and shift him closer. He could always tell it wasn’t him, it was the treacherous straw shifting beneath his weight. He held his breath like a man who had stepped onto thin ice and wasn’t sure it would hold.
He felt your fingers find his and press, small but sure, and relief ran through him so hard it stung his eyes.
“Say something,” he asked at last, not command but plea.
You didn’t trust what would come out if you tried, so you let your hand slide over his and pressed it closer to you, answer enough. The heat of him poured in through the thick wool between you, but you shivered only more.
Sihtric eased closer, the length of him fitting to the line of you as if the bed had been carved for this.
“I just want you warm. If you want me to let go, say it,” he murmured in your ear.
You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t push him away either, you just lay silently until your breaths found a shared rhythm, the kind that would have embarrassed you to notice in the daylight.
“For what it’s worth,” he said after a while. “I don’t think you’re a child. I think you are brave and clever. I think…” He swallowed whatever was supposed to come next. “Sleep,” he said instead. “Please.”
You closed your eyes, feeling the careful way he held himself, muscle by muscle reined in, so you wouldn’t mistake warmth for something else and all you wanted was to cry, because you didn’t want the warmth, you wanted that something else, that thing he held back, that was not yours to ask for, that must already belong to the lucky woman whose finger would fit that delicate ring.
You meant to sleep, you almost did, muscles loosening, as you shifted, not intentionally, just reaching for the warmth radiating off his body and pressing your back towards Sihtric a fraction more. The bed answered with a low creak, the mattress dipping even more and pressing you tighter together in the middle of it and his body, human and tired, answered too, a slow, involuntary rock of his hips against you that drew a silent curse from him and a startled spark from you.
Sihtric went rigid, everything in him stilled but his heartbeat against your spine.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, and you swore you could hear the scrape of his teeth against the word. “I shouldn’t… It won’t happen again.”
You swallowed and before you could think better of it, your body moved of its own accord with a slow, deliberate rock of your hips back into him and against the unmistakably hard bulge in his crotch now pressing firmly against your ass. You both drew in a ragged breath and went very still.
His breath broke, his arm twitched to release you, and the mattress dipped as he began to pull away.
“I’ll go,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “I’ll take the floor, no… I’ll take the stables I’m… I’m sorry.”
You turned and caught his wrist before he could retreat. “Wait, please.” The words surprised you with how quickly they came, with your heart a war drum and mouth suddenly dry.
“I won’t touch you,” he said, hoarse. “I didn’t mean… I…” he stammered.
“Sihtric,” the dark made you brave. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He tried to laugh and couldn’t.
“I… I don’t have experience with this,” you admitted, clumsy, honest, tugging the words out one by one “but… but does that mean… does that mean that you want me? Like a man wants a woman…”
He breathed once, deeply, and then again, as if relearning it.
“I can’t make it stop,” he said. “Not with you here, not with the bed pulling us like this.”
His eyes were huge in the low light, mismatched and stricken.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Your voice was steadier now. “I need you to tell me the truth.” You wet your lips. “Do you want me?”
He shut his eyes like a man awaiting the executioner’s blade. “Yes,” he answered quietly.
“I know I shouldn’t, I have no right to… I just… I can’t stop it.” A breath, ragged. “I’ll ask Uhtred to send someone else with you next time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
His jaw tightened before he answered. “Because you trusted me.”
“I still do.”
“You shouldn’t,” he whispered, the words tasting like ash.
You held his gaze. “And if I told you I want you too?”
For a moment, he didn’t breathe, not properly, not in any way that would give his lungs air, he sat up abruptly and then scrambled to his knees ready to flee. His voice cracked and failed, his fingers curled into the bedding.
“You don’t mean that,” he managed at last, hoarse and frayed.
“I do,” you said, as steady as you could make it, following him upright.
Your hand reached out, it trembled, but it found him anyway, cupping his cheek, stubble rasped your palm, and Sihtric’s breath caught audibly. Your thumb hovered, then grazed the soft part of his lower lip, unsure of what to do.
“Tell me to stop,” you whispered, because you had to, because you needed to give him the way out, even if your whole body prayed he wouldn’t take it.
He shook his head, a small, stunned movement.
“Don’t,” he breathed, almost soundless and your palm stayed on his cheek. You felt the rough nap of stubble under your thumb, the fine give of muscle clenching and easing as he held perfectly still for you.
You let your thumb trace the bow of his mouth once more, slower this time, learning the shape you’d been pretending not to study for months.
Your mouth went dry and you wet your lower lip and saw his eyes flick there and back, the tiniest betrayed hunger, gone as soon as it showed.
You leaned in and missed the angle by a breath, your nose brushed his in an awkward bump and you pulled back a finger’s width, mortified and breathless.
He reached for you then, two fingers first, cautious at your jaw, then the rest, warm and trembling, cradling your face as his thumb traced a slow line along your cheek.
You let the world blur and closed the final distance with your mouth, pressing your lips to his.
God, the sound that escaped him, a low, helpless moan, that vibrated softly against your mouth, setting every fine hair along your neck on end.
He tasted of rain and warmth, of ale and the faint smoke that clung to his skin from the hall, the press of his mouth deepened against yours and the warmth of him rolled over you in slow waves.
His lips moved over yours in a tender and searching rhythm, his tongue brushed the seam of your lips gently, making your breath catch and heat blossom between your ribs, spreading outward in waves that made your skin hum.
His hand shifted from your jaw to your neck, fingers brushing the delicate sweep just beneath your ear, and his thumb traced the edge of your throat.
You exhaled through your nose, slow and shaking, and leaned into the touch.
He broke away for breath, and your fingers slid into his hair, still slightly damp, thick and soft at the roots, and you tugged gently, not wanting to let him go.
“Sihtric,” you said softly, feeling the way his body went alert at the sound of his name on your lips.
“Mm?” he murmured.
“Again,” you said.
He groaned softly against your lips, a low, fractured sound that sent sparks tripping down your spine. He kissed you again and this time it was exactly how you always imagined he would, like he was starving for it, like he’d been holding this back for far too long.
You parted your lips for him, not because you knew how to ask, but because it felt right, and he answered by slipping his tongue between them. You let him in and a soft moan escaped you the moment his tongue brushed yours, making your pulse suddenly pound between your thighs.
His mouth never truly left yours, just shifted, tasting you, learning you, returning over and over like he couldn’t bear the space between breaths. You sighed softly against him when his tongue brushed against yours again, coaxing, tender, and then dipped to graze your bottom lip.
Then he sucked, lightly, deliberately, drawing your lip between his, tugging it with the faintest edge of playfulness that sent a shiver straight down your spine.
He pulled back just enough to let you breathe, and you did, just barely, your lips tingled, kissed-sore and trembling.
“Too much?” he whispered against your throat, his lips brushing the place where your pulse fluttered.
“Not enough,” you breathed, barely able to speak around the ache in your chest. “Please!” You begged leaning into him, your whole body feeling on fire and the only balm – his mouth.
He blinked, slowly, as if the words cost him something to hear. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I think I do.”
“You’ve never…” He broke off, gaze skidding away. “You’ve nothing to measure this by. It could be…” he swallowed, “A mistake. I could be too much, or not enough.”
“That makes no sense, Sihtric, you know it does not,” your mouth tilted, humor and hurt in equal parts. “Do you truly want someone else to touch me first so I can bring you a comparison?”
You reached for him again and your palm found his chest, fingers curling into the linen at his collarbone. His heart hammered against your hand, but he didn’t pull back.
“I don’t want a comparison,” you said. “I want you. Exactly as you are.”
“We cannot undo it if you regret it,” he warned.
“Then let me decide. Don’t take it from me again, let me, for once, choose for myself.”
His hand still cradled your hip like a fragile thing. “You think you’re ready for what this means, but … but you don’t even know what that truly is…”
“Then I want you to teach me,” you continued, your voice softer now, but unshaking. “I want you to be the one to show me.”
Sihtric closed his eyes, as if the weight of your certainty was harder to bear than rejection.
Your lips brushed his cheek, then his temple, your breath trembling but sure. “I trust you.”
His hands moved again, one rising to your face, the other curling fully around your waist now, no longer feather-light, firm, claiming, holding you like a man surrendering.
You pressed your forehead to his, your lips just brushing the edge of his mouth, your voice barely more than a breath:
“I want to feel safe in your hands. I want to learn what it means to be loved because of who I am, not in spite of it.”
His hand moved, hesitated a heartbeat and then slid from your waist to the small of your back as he pulled you toward him.
You let him, your hands found the edge of his armor, fingertips grazing the rough leather, the ridges of laces and buckles as you slowly, clumsily started to work them open. He didn’t say a word, only watched your fingers move, as if your hands stripping him down were some kind of miracle he didn’t dare interrupt.
You loosened the first strap across his chest, then the next, the armor began to fall away, piece by piece and you ran your hands up under his tunic next, fingertips skating over the ridges of old scars, the dip between ribs, the steady rhythm of his breath against your palms. You pulled the garment upward and over his head and Sihtric drew in a sharp breath and stilled. You paused, looking at his bare torso.
You had never thought about it, never let your mind wander so far as to what you would find beneath that leather armour.
Sihtric’s broad chest rose and fell in fast and unsteady rhythm as you took him in. He was scarred and, God, he was beautiful.
Sihtric’s first instinct was to hide, but your gaze was so soft, unafraid, you didn’t flinch from the scars, you didn’t ask where they came from, you just… touched.
You reached out, tracing a pale gash over his ribs with the soft pad of your finger and his breath hitched and picked up. No one had ever touched him like that before, like his wounds deserved reverence instead of shame.
And then you leaned in and pressed your lips there, his breath broke, a sound escaped him that he didn’t recognize, like something trapped in his chest had finally found its way out.
Your lips were soft, warm, human. His cock twitched in his pants and he had to bite back a groan.
Sihtric’s hand came up, cupped the back of your neck, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw and he bowed his head, eyes closing and lips parted.
You kissed higher, up his chest, to the hollow of his throat, tasting salt and skin, and something that felt like home. He moaned quietly into your mouth as you pressed your lips to his again.
He guided you gently back onto the bed and your legs parted instinctively, his thigh slid between yours, and your knee curled around his hip, anchoring him close, closer than you'd ever imagined being with anyone, closer than you thought your heart could bear.
That made him shudder, visibly, completely, a sound caught low in his throat, something like a groan and a gasp tangled together. He pressed forward again, hips shifting without thought, and you felt him hard and pulsing against you.
Your hands slid down his broad back, feeling the strength beneath the fine tremors in his muscles, he was holding himself back with everything he had.
Sihtric’s body began to move over yours, learning you by the way you softened beneath his weight, or how your breath caught when his hips nudged forward again, how your hands clung to him in quiet desperation.
He kissed your cheek, your shoulder, the soft spot beneath your ear that made your breath stutter.
You tilted your head back, offering your throat to him, not because he asked, but because you wanted it, you craved that soft touch of his lips on your racing pulse.
His mouth trailed lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, warm and wet and slow. His hands slid down your sides, palms warm through the linen, as he pushed the hem of your tunic upward, inch by inch.
His knuckles brushed the underside of your breast, and his breath faltered sharply.
“Can I…” he didn’t finish, you nodded eagerly, your lips parted, your chest rising in anticipation as you lifted your arms wordlessly, helping him to pull the tunic over your head.
“You're… gods, you're perfect,” he whispered, when the fabric slipped away exposing your breasts to him.
He cupped your breast with both hands, his thumbs brushing over your stiff peaks. His lips followed, trailing down to the center of your chest. He took you in his mouth, sucking softly at your nipple, and a sharp wave of pleasure made your hips shift against him.
You moaned, soft and surprised, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your skin.
You gasped when his fingers found your waistband, then whimpered as he eased your trousers down. His palms callused and rough skimmed your thighs with a gentleness that made your breath catch. He bent to your neck, you raked your fingers through his hair as he kissed and sucked lightly at the tender place there, and you arched into him, greedy for more.
“Beautiful… so so beautiful,” he whispered into your ear and your breath stuttered when his hand slid between your legs. You opened for him without thinking, a soft, helpless sound left you as Sihtric fit himself between your thighs and his fingers dipped into your core.
A low satisfied chuckle left him as he parted your folds and found slick.
Your eyes widened in surprise and you drew a sharp breath as he teased your entrance with one finger and then pressed it inside. The stretch was new and startling. He groaned low in his throat as your tightness closed around him.
His thumb found the small, aching knot of pleasure at the top of your cunt and circled gently, you bit your lip to swallow the sound that rose, failed and let it out anyway. The noise that clawed through you was raw and unguarded, your head snapping back onto the pillow. Shame flickered, then vanished at Sihtric’s pleased hum.
“Good girl, don’t keep it inside,” he coaxed softly. “Let it out, let me hear you.”
His thumb drew slow, coaxing circles around your perl as he slid a second finger in. You gasped and he stilled, waiting for your body to welcome it before he started to move them and your thoughts scattered.
You had never felt anything like this. Your hands fisted in his hair, your back arched against the mattress and your breath stuttered, melting into wild whines and whimpers as he began to stroke, steady and patient, his fingers gliding in and out, thumb rubbing that sweet spot. You held onto him and rocked your hips to meet him, to chase that insane feeling you had no words to describe.
“Greedy little minx,” Sihtric hummed as he dipped to kiss the skin between your breasts, then took your nipple back into his mouth, tongue and lips teasing in time with his fingers.
You whined when Sihtric’s mouth left your breast and started traveling lower. Fingers still sliding in and out of your wet cunt, his lips traced your ribs, your belly, the soft flesh in the inner of your thigh.
The first soft lap of his tongue against your slick made you jolt, your back bowing off the mattress.
“God, Sihtric, what…” you whimpered, but the question dissolved into a long, broken moan as his lips sealed around your pearl and sucked. You cried out, fingers tangling harder in his hair, trying to squirm away, but he didn’t let you. Sihtric’s large palms on your hips pinned you down while his tongue continued its onslaught on your cunt.
You pushed up on your elbows just enough to see him settled between your thighs, face buried in your cunt, eyes glassy and half lid as his tongue worked you in quick, sure strokes.
You fell back, thighs trembling and he groaned against you, his tongue flicking over your perl.
“Good girl, my perfect, sweet, beautiful girl,” he breathed against you, just as his third finger slid inside.
You let go of his hair and dug your fingers into the blanket beneath you in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. Sihtric’s hand kept moving in a steady rhythm while his tongue and lips licked and suckled your pearl. You felt your body clenching around his fingers and he moaned into you at the grip, the sound vibrating through your skin.
The wanton sounds spilling from you surprised you even as they kept coming, tangled with his low groans and the faint grind of his hips against the bed. He curled his fingers against the inner wall of your cunt, digging them into a place that made you cry out as heat coiled tight and then bursted with sparks behind your half lid eyes and butterflies in your bones as indescribable pleasure tore through you hot and shaking. Your jaw slacked, your head snapped back and your body shook in waves of pleasure.
He stayed with you, fingers deep, letting you ride out the high, his mouth gentled only when the last shudder loosened, when your body sank back into the mattress limp, pliant and spent and the last of your moans faded away into the dark.
“The sweetest girl,” he murmured, kissing a path up your belly toward your mouth. You whined when he eased his fingers free, he soothed the sound with a kiss to your forehead, then your lips.
“What was that?” you breathed when your wide eyes found his. For all you’d been told, all you knew – being with a man was supposed to hurt and yet this had been the most breathtakingly, sinfully, devastatingly beautiful sensation you’d ever known.
“Shhh,” he hushed, threading his fingers through your damp, tumbled hair. “You asked me to teach you. That was your first lesson, sweet girl.” His mouth brushed yours. “Your pleasure comes first. Always.”
“But… what … what about you?” you whispered.
“Don’t worry for me, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Another time.”
You shook your head, stubborn and certain, and reached for the waistband of his breeches. “I want to see you,” you said, barely above a breath. “Please.”
He paused, his hand covering yours, eyes searching your face. With a sigh that sounded like surrender, he gently moved your hand aside and undid the laces himself. His cock throbbed against the fabric, begging, and still he didn’t rush.
You watched him stand and push the breeches down, kicking them aside before turning back to you. Your eyes widened at how long and thick, flushed and veiny he was, beautiful in a way you hadn’t known to imagine.
“You don’t owe me anything. You’ve already given me too much,” he said as he came closer.
“May I… may I touch you?” Your gaze stayed fixed, wonder-struck.
“You… want to?” Bewilderment colored his voice, tender and raw.
“Please!” you asked again.
Sihtric swallowed and nodded, you reached, fingertips running the length of him, silk over heat, smooth and impossibly soft-skinned, red at the slightly leaking tip. He shivered, breath catching, and the darkness in his eyes made you brave.
“Tell me what to do,” you asked, wrapping your hand around him. It felt heavy and hot in your hand.
“What… wait…” Sihtric breathed as you suddenly leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, your tongue flicking out as it licked the bead of precum at the tip.
He almost lost it then and there. By gods, he had never even dared to imagine your lips near his cock.
Sihtric’s cock twitched heavily in your palm and you let it go, afraid you had done something wrong.
“You kissed me there,” you whispered crimson creeping up your neck. “and it felt heavenly. I thought… I thought it would feel the same for you.”
“It does… oh gods, it does… I just…. ” Sihtric stuttered, his fingers curled under your jaw as he pushed your chin up to meet your eyes.
“Tell me… teach me,” you whispered, looking up at him, licking your lips and inching closer again.
Sihtric’s thumb skimmed your bottom lip, and you parted your mouth just slightly, your tongue flicking against his thumb.
“I… I will put it in your mouth…,” Sihtric’s voice almost cracked and you felt his fingers shiver under your chin. You opened your mouth wider, waiting, eyes up on him.
He took his cock in his hand and put the tip on your tongue. You licked it, circling his sensitive tip with your tongue just as you remembered his tongue circling your perl. He moaned, loud and unrestrained, his hips jerked forward, pushing more of him into your mouth and you gagged on it.
Sihtric pulled back and his hand reached for yours, placing it at the base of his length, wrapping your fingers around it.
“You can guide me, if it gets too much,” he said as his cock slid back deeper inside your mouth. Instinctively you closed your lips around him and his breath hitched audibly.
His hand tangled in your hair and you let him guide you as he slowly started to fuck into you mouth. You were quick to catch the movement, your grip on him tightened as you took over bobbing your head up and down his length, letting your tongue slide over his underside and lick at his tip.
Sihtric’s head snapped back, as he hissed, muffled and restrained at first, but after a few moments he couldn’t hold it back anymore. You felt his cock throbbed in your mouth and encouraged by the sinful sounds that started to leave him you fastened your pace until his grip in your hair tightened and he pulled you off him with a wet plop.
Sihtric breathed heavily as he leaned down and kissed you, pushing you slowly back onto the bed as he held your legs open and crawled between them.
He took his cock in his hand and dragged it through your wet and swollen folds. You whimpered, your head tipping back as he stopped at your entrance.
He pushed just the very tip inside you and you whined. It was hot and pulsing, and huge.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered against your throat. “Mark me up.”
You nodded, holding on to his broad shoulders.
His other hand found your pearl and rubbed it, making your back arch again, and then he pushed forward. Your walls stretched around him and you whimpered.
He didn’t stop. He groaned and pressed further. It stung. Your body protested the intrusion, the unusual stretch, you whined as tears popped in the corners of your eyes. Sihtric groaned and paused, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.
“It… it doesn’t fit …” you whined, digging your nails into his flesh with full force, certain to leave marks.
"Shh... just a little bit more," Sihtric murmured against your lips as he stilled within you and then with one sharp motion he thrust into you, breaching the thin barrier that was holding him back and sliding deep inside you.
You felt him, all of him, filling the space inside you, stretching you beyond possible, you cried out and felt Sihtric’s arms instantly wrapping around you.
“That’s it, you have me,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “I‘m yours. I’m forever yours." He held you tight against him, kissing away the few salty tears that had rolled down your cheeks.
Your breath evened out as the sting slowly faded, leaving only the feeling of impossible fullness, as you felt his cock pulsing and twitching inside you, yet he didn’t move.
“Are you good?” he whispered into your ear and you nodded, swallowing hard, equally afraid and eager of what was to come next.
You felt him slowly drag his cock from you, the sudden feeling of emptiness making you whine. He mistook it for pain and stilled again completely.
Your lips searched his. “More,” you pleaded against them, as Sihtric kissed you and thrusted back into you, filling you completely again.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. From the very first moment I saw that warm smile hiding behind Osferth’s back,” he breathed out as he did it again, the slow drag of his cock against your walls lightening up every nerve in your body. It was as if your senses had suddenly sharpened to the impossible. You felt every ridge of his cock, every shudder, every pulse of him inside you. You felt his breath burning your skin, and the soft press of his thumb against your pearl sent your senses reeling.
He kissed you again, and you moaned softly against his lips. It spurred him on, he groaned against your mouth and fastened his pace.
He buried his face into the crook of your neck and you felt his ragged breath on your skin. It didn’t take long before pleasure bloomed again in your abdomen, spreading all along your body till the very ends of your fingertips.
It was different, sharper, hotter. His cock thrusted in and out of you, brushing against your swollen walls, and with every thrust his pelvis rubbed up against your pearl. You felt heat flowing through your veins and you began to push back against his thrusts, wanting and needing more.
He could feel it, the way your impossibly tight walls pulsed around him and squeezed him. Your breath was picking up with each drag of his cock, your muffled whines and whimpers fading into moans, turning him on to the brink of madness. Sihtric gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to ground himself, to prevent himself from starting to wildly pound into you.
“Feel it, embrace it, let go,” he whispered in your ear. “Give into the pleasure,” he groaned, breath getting more ragged with every thrust. You were too gone already, too drunk on the heat and pleasure.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, your jaw slacked again and all you could do was to hold on to Sihtric’s shoulders as you shattered with a broken moan against him. Climax washed over you in hot pulsing waves sweeping everything in their wake.
Sihtric’s pace slipped loose, it got harder, then uneven, before he buried a gasp against your neck and seized, shuddering, release racing through him in long, helpless beats as he spilled inside you, filling you with endless spurts of his hot seed.
He kept rocking his hips slowly against you, until the last tremor faded and you went still in his arms. You felt his cock growing limp inside you but he did not make the move to pull it from you and when he finally moved, it wasn’t to leave but to pull you closer, to shift next to you, while his hand smoothed over your back, tracing small circles that had no purpose except to remind you he was real.
You felt the tremor leave his body, the weight of him soften, and for a long time, you simply breathed together.
At last he shifted carefully, gently sliding out of you, but still keeping you close, gathering you into his arms like something he meant to carry even in sleep. You went with him, tucked beneath his chin, your leg slipping between his as if your bodies already knew how to rest together.
“Was I…” he began, then faltered, and you looked up at him.
“You were good,” you said. “You were careful and you didn’t let me go.”
His throat worked, a flicker of emotion moving through him too quickly to name. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“It hurt a little,” you admitted, honest as breath. “But not the wrong kind and not the way I was expecting it.”
Morning found you warm and weightless, naked, your legs tangled with Sihtric’s under the blanket, his cloak draped over you both like a second hush. The hearth had gone to a soft red heart and the rain was only a memory on the shutter. Your cheek rested on Sihtric’s shoulder, his arm lay heavy at your waist, hand tucked into the hollow above your hip as if it had always belonged there.
You shifted and his palm tightened, drawing you back until your spine met his chest. He made a small sound, half-groan, half-contentment, and pressed two drowsy kisses to your shoulder, the rasp of his stubble a soft scrape that raised a shiver.
Careful not to jostle the narrow bed, you eased his arm down and unwound your legs from his. He let you go, slow and reluctant, fingertips tracing once along your side as you turned to face him.
Light from the shuttered window cut a pale line across his cheekbone, and his mismatched eyes seemed to glow in that soft shimmer, but something in his expression made your brow crease. It was the look of a man bracing for a thing he meant to say, courage gathering behind it.
“If you want,” he murmured, thumb brushing a stray strand from your brow, “if it’s easier… if you want me to forget last night, to pretend nothing happened, just tell me.”
You went very still as the quiet between you changed shape, getting thin, sharp and painful.
He swallowed. “I mean…, ” the sentence faltered, but he tried again, softer. “Daylight is… unkind and certain things look different… If… if you need quiet, I’ll keep it.”
“Of course,” you said, the words orderly, the hurt beneath not, as you put all your willpower into them to sound at ease. ““Daylight is honest,” you continued, sharper than you meant. “It shows things as they are. I won’t remind you of anything.”
Your lashes lowered to keep the tears from spilling and you missed the quick flicker of hurt that crossed his face just to be tucked away in the next heartbeat.
Sithric’s hand withdrew, falling to the blanket.
“Right,” he said, voice careful to be nothing at all. “Of course.”
What a fool he had been to hope. Deep down he had known you would regret it came the daylight and Sihtric was not the kind of man who asked to keep what he did not think he deserved. If you wanted last night folded away, he had no right to do anything else than to tuck it as far as he could and throw away the keys to the drawers.
You heard only his agreement and took it for relief.
He’s glad I said it, you thought, and the thought stung worse than you’d braced for. Of course he is, there’s someone else, you knew it. You knew it the moment you had seen the ring. It had been so foolish of you to ask for something that wasn’t yours to have.
You sat up, drew the blanket to your chest and turned away. He let his arm slip from your waist, moving like a man careful not to break what was already cracked.
You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, letting his cloak slip away and embracing the chill threading your skin.
You both dressed without looking at each other.
He found his breeches by the bed and laced them with fumbling fingers. You pulled your shirt over your head and cursed at the stubborn ribbons that didn’t want to yield to your shaking hands. He almost offered help, and then didn’t, because help now would be presumption.
He found your boots and set them by your foot without meeting your eyes. You took them with a small nod but you didn’t thank him, because thanks now would be a confession.
His knife went back to his belt.
Your hair was twisted back into something passable with hands that trembled.
She regrets it, he told himself, and tasted iron.
He wants someone else, you thought, and the ring in his pouch burned a hole in your heart.
When you were both buttoned back into the people you knew how to be, your eyes betrayed you and, despite yourselves, you both glanced toward the narrow bed.
The blanket still held the hollow where your bodies had met, his cloak lay rumpled like a second shadow.
Longing clawed through you like a tide, threatening to drown you, a matching ache crossed his face and vanished, as if it had never been, but neither of you noticed it, your eyes glued to the simple straw mattress.
He cleared his throat, softening his voice to the one he used with skittish horses.
“We should get breakfast,” he said. Not a question. Safer ground. Daylight words.
You nodded, not trusting your voice not to tremble. You turned and suddenly the room tilted, you stumbled and Sihtric was there before the thought could finish, his hands closing around your elbows.
“Easy,” he murmured. You caught your breath. He didn’t let go.
Up close, you saw it clearly: the fine tremor in his fingers, the way he made himself smaller, shoulders drawn inward, like bracing for a blow.
“I’m sorry…” he began, apology already forming.
“Don’t,” you said, too quickly, your voice splintering. You tried to swallow it down but failed, the tears welled anyway, hot and unbidden. “It was my decision. All along.”
You dragged in a breath that scraped the inside of your throat. “I knew there was someone else.”
He froze.
“Someone… else?” he echoed, blank, stunned, as though you’d spoken a language he no longer understood.
You laughed, a single, small sound that broke on the way out.
“The ring, Sihtric. I’m not blind,” you shook your head hard, blinking fast. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t want… comparison.”
Sihtric’s jaw clenched once, then again, as though he’d bitten into something sour.
“The ring,” he said, quietly and felt you flinch.
“Breakfast,” you said, slipping from his arms, and your hand reached for the door handle.
Sihtric’s fingers closed around your wrist and turned you. The door caught your back with a soft thud and he stopped a breath away, shoulders squared as if holding up a collapsing roof, then forced himself to ease.
“I won’t crowd you,” he said, voice roughened. “If you say go, I go. But…” he swallowed. “You have to tell me what I’m standing in.”
You blinked and he drew a breath like preparing for the final judgement.
“When I said we could pretend nothing happened, I didn’t mean I want to forget it,” he went on. “I meant, if you feel you made a mistake, if you regret it, I can’t undo the night, but I can refuse to make it a debt. If keeping your smile means I pull out my heart and bury it, I’ll do it.”
He searched your face as if for a sign he’d missed in the dark. “I gave you everything I had last night – all the care I know, all the truth I’ve swallowed for months. If I’ve mistaken you or if I’ve hurt you, say it clean and I will take it. I’ll take anything you say, but I can’t take guessing.”
“Sihtric…”
“Everything I said to you last night is true. I love you, I’ve always had,” he released your wrist only long enough to reach for the pouch on his belt.
He laid the ring in his palm between you, hands trembling.
“This,” he said, eyes on you, not the metal. “This has always been yours. There is nobody else. I meant it for you the first moment I saw it, I only lacked the courage to say it.”
You felt your bottom lip tremble as you fought for any coherent words that stubbornly refused to leave your throat.
“Say you believe me,” he asked and your breath snagged.
“I do,” you managed at last. “I believe you and… and I love you too,” you sobbed and watched the ache and the awe move through his mismatched eyes like weather breaking.
“Good,” he breathed, lifting your hand and putting the small delicate ring on your finger.
And then he kissed you.
Not cautious, not this time, he kissed you like a man who had been careful for years and had finally been handed permission to be whole. His mouth was warm and sure, the press honest and hungry. The door steadied you when your knees went foolish, his hand steadied you more, sliding from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you flush.
You opened to him and he deepened the kiss, a rough sound escaping into your mouth. His palm lifted to cradle your jaw and your own hands rose without thinking, one fisting lightly in his shirt, the other tangling in his hair.
The kiss said what both of you had tried and failed to name – no one else; never anyone else; mine if you want; yours if you’ll have me – until the last of the old doubts ran out of places to hide.
“Breakfast?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at you, one hand sliding up your spine to cradle the base of your neck. His thumb brushed your jaw.
“Food is overrated,” you whispered, catching your bottom lip between your teeth, as you pulled him back into the kiss.
Holy sweet jesus I feel like Christmas has come early!!
How do you always do it? You had me on the edge of my seat and I wish you could feel the way my heart was beating when I was reading this! Liga..I have no words for how beautiful this was.
Sihtric...sweet sweet Sihtric you have no idea how much I have missed you baby.
Part II to I Don't Have a Choice. But I Still Choose You
Remus Lupin x Reader
Title is based on this song:
Request:
If you are taking requests could I please request a Remus one, where during the Battle of Hogwarts reader survives but Remus dies?
I've recently been re-reading ATYD and in Grant's chapters at the end you know with the pictures, I think it would be cute to see some snapshots of their relationship in the form of flashbacks.
It would be an amazing follow on from the one you wrote where they were reunited in Prisoner of Azkaban.
I'm not going through a good time at the moment and I'm in the mood to have my heart absolutely blown to pieces...please.
Warnings: Remus's death is addressed from the very opening lines. Grief and Despair.
Somebody was screaming.
Somebody was screaming and it was muffled and pained and you couldn’t place where it was coming from.
It was like a bomb had gone off beside you and everything was muffled and tinny and your ears were ringing.
But still somebody was screaming.
All of the sound seemed to rush back into your ears all at once as you collapsed to your knees beside him, reaching for him and realising with a jolt, that you had been the one screaming.
“No. No. No. You promised. You promised!” you were crying, scooping up his lifeless body and clinging to him.
“You promised. You promised. You promised,” you were repeating over and over into his hair as you rocked him in your arms, and barely even registered the gentle touch upon your shoulder as Poppy Pomfrey ducked down on her hunkers reaching out to steady you, tears streaming down her own cheeks and face twisted into a perfect mixture of horror and grief.
“He promised he’d never leave me on my own again,” you were wailing and she burst into tears of her own as she nodded, and reached out a hand to cup his cheek in her shaking hands.
“I loved him like he were my own child,” she cried and then rose to her full height again, clutching her chest and you didn’t think your heart could break any more.
“We had no time,” you cried and she reached for you again, “I thought we would have forever to make up for all those years that we lost, but it was no time at all.”
You weren’t quite sure how long you stayed like that, holding him to you and praying relentlessly to whatever God was listening to bring him back.
“Just bring him back, I will do anything. Bring him back. Bring him back to me. Please.”
People began to flurry around you filing out into the corridors and outside.
Poppy was before you again, coaxing you up.
“I can’t. I can’t leave him,” you clung to him tighter.
“You have to, otherwise it’s all for nothing. Otherwise, he died for nothing. We fight on, and we fight for him.”
Later, when the War was won, and Voldemort was dead, you could admit to yourself that you had fought for him, for Remus, to give Harry the best chance at surviving, and to do the man you loved proud.
You had been seriously wounded in your efforts, and sat nursing a healing potion from Poppy when Harry appeared before you indicating that he wanted to talk, and so you followed him out of the Great Hall, among the ruins of the courtyard and out along the viaduct.
“I’m so sorry, I never wanted Remus to die for me,” he said finally and you wanted to rush forward and scoop him into your arms, and so you did, pulling him to you in a fierce embrace and he sagged into your touch.
“I held you when you were just a few hours old,” you told him, pulling apart just enough to look into his eyes, Lily’s eyes, “Both of us did, and we swore we would do whatever it took to keep you safe. Remus would have given his life a thousand times over if it meant you had just the slightest chance. That was our choice and we made it willingly, you cannot carry the burden of that blame Harry.”
“But you had no time,” Harry mirrored your words from earlier, and you realised with a jolt that he must have heard you when you had been crying to Poppy.
“A thousand lifetimes with Remus would not have been enough for me,” you smiled through your tears “And I believe I will see him again some day,” you cupped Harry’s cheeks and he smiled through tears of his own.
“He appeared to me in the Forbidden forest, they all did, Mum. Dad. Sirius. I believe wherever they are, in the next world or wherever, they are all together.”
You smiled genuinely and with a warmth that bubbled up through your chest.
“I believe so too,” you reassured him and you walked together back into the castle, knowing you had put his young mind somewhat at ease and a strange feeling of peace washed over you too, knowing that Remus wasn’t alone, he'd spent too much time on his own in this life.
Four Months Later
“Thanks for meeting me,” you rushed breathlessly jiggling with a set of keys and Harry smiled.
“Of course,” he smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I know Grimmauld place was Order HQ, so you might associate it most with Sirius but this,” you said finally getting the door to open and stepping into the little entry way of a tiny flat, “This was Remus and Sirius HQ,” you smiled and you watched Harry take in the surroundings of the tiny flat.
“The three of us lived here,” you continued fluttering around and flicking on the lights, “Some of my happiest memories are here, ” you told him honestly and he was smiling.
You beckoned him to come sit down on the couch, and on the coffee table were piles and piles of leatherbound albums and he looked at you puzzled.
“I left these here when Remus and I separated,” you explained “But they go the whole way back to our times at school together, I wanted you to have them, there’s loads of your Mum and Dad, of Sirius and Remus and some of our happiest times before the War-and during, because life went on in the midst of it all, there’s even some of you in there too.”
“Thank you,” Harry cried diving in and reaching for one of them, flipping it open to a random page and that just so happened to be Remus and Sirius in their red and gold Gryffindor colours in the middle of the Quiddich pitch, hoisting James up on their shoulders while Lily laughed, red nosed and rosy cheeked.
“There are loads of records too, this place was always filled with music and I thought you should have those too, most of them belonged to Sirius, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to listen to them yet,” you smiled and Harry looked at you sadly.
“There’s one more thing Harry,” you said softly and handed the keys of the apartment over to him without amble, and he looked at you with something akin to surprise and horror.
“Sirius bought this place for us when neither myself or Remus had a penny to our names, and I know he would have wanted you to have it. I know you’re on track to becoming an amazing Auror and things are serious with Ginny, so I figured you would like somewhere to call your own, somewhere that could feel as safe as Hogwarts did to you, and I think this could be it.”
He looked completely stunned for a moment, so you continued “Remus and I should have both tried harder for you, we should have made ourselves known to you long before you ever had to encounter us as your teachers, we should have made sure you were safe and loved with the Dursleys but we didn’t, all I can do now is offer this place to you as a home that nobody can ever take away from you again.”
“What about you?” he cried and you smiled, even though your eyes were brimming with tears.
“I’ve got the cottage, Remus and I spent two really lovely years together there, we got married underneath the rose bush in the garden” you told him, “And well, I think I’m gonna need the space really.”
He looked at you in question before you were unbuttoning your cardigan to reveal the swollen skin of your stomach, and you rubbed your hand across the bump affectionately “He did promise he would never leave me on my own again,” you spoke through tears- although these ones were happy ones and Harry dove forward to hug you.
One Year Later
Doing life with two Newborns was not an easy feat by yourself.
There were times when you grieved for Remus so hard, it was hard to nail the basics like brushing your teeth, or showering- some days it felt impossible to even get out of bed, but then you would hear one of the twins start to fuss and you would remember you couldn’t let them down. Couldn't let him down.
Nobody could have imagined your surprise when you pushed your first baby into the world, a beautiful baby girl that you called Hope.
Hope had been Remus’ mother’s name, and from the day you found out you were expecting it had given you a new lease of hope in the darkest of times. What you hadn’t been suspecting was the sudden and uncontrollable urge to push again, and into the world arrived your boy Teddy Lupin.
The night feeds were what you found the toughest and it was always in these moments you would imagine Remus whispering “Sleep love, I’ll take this one,” the ghost of his presence was everywhere in the house and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have cherished his two babies it was another of life's cruelties that he never had the chance to know them.
Today felt like any other day, except it was your birthday, your owl arrived with your Daily Prophet, some birthday cards and a package with a note in a scrawl you would have recognised anywhere and your heart momentarily stopped beating in your chest.
The twins were sleeping peacefully in their cot and you opened the wrapping paper gingerly, it was a vinyl and your heart stopped in your chest when you read the title Love You ‘Till The End by the Pogues.
The note read:
‘Happy birthday, my darling girl. Here’s another record to add to our collection. Together, or apart there’s only ever been you for me. The only woman I have ever loved, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my days with you. As the song suggests and rather romantically might I add, I will love you ‘till the end. Forever. Your Remus xxx’
You read the note through red hot tears, and you read it again and again until you willed it to memory, clutching it to your chest as if your heart was breaking all over again.
You made your way over to the record player and gently placed the needle down, sinking to your floor you lay down, the way you and Remus had always done whenever he insisted there was a song you needed to listen to.
“Close your eyes,” he’d instruct with a whisper and you would always comply, hand grasped tightly in his and eyes fluttering closed, this time your hand remained clutching the note firmly to your chest, missing him today more than ever.
“Grief is the proof that we have loved,” he used to say, well based on your grief for him alone, my god you had loved!
You let your eyes slip closed as the opening lines played.
“I just want to see you when you’re all alone,”
And for a moment you weren’t in your Sitting Room, you were a teenage girl running barefoot down a sandy beach in Cornwall, throwing sticks to a black shaggy dog who would return them time and time again for you to throw again, Remus laughing alongside you as the wind swept through his hair, and then he pulled you in for a kiss that stole your breath away.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” he laughed but was promptly nudged in the legs by Padfoot returning with the stick you had thrown.
And then the rest of the memories began to flood in.
You were drunk on cheap wine as your friends sat around the Living Room of your old flat laughing. Lily and James had just gotten engaged and Sirius had insisted on throwing a party.
“You’ll be next,” Lily had whispered as she saddled up beside you on the settee and Remus who had been topping up glasses around the room sent you a knowing smirk, at the two of you giggling on the couch.
“If I’m lucky,” you mused, meeting his eye and looking at him like he hung the moon and stars.
You were a crying mess as Remus got down on one knee, at the edge of the lake in St. James’ Park, and asked you to marry him.
You’d thrown yourself at him so hard, you’d knocked him off his feet and you both ended up a crumpled mess on the ground as you kissed every single inch of his face, and he was laughing so much he couldn’t even speak.
“Shall I take that as a yes?” he finally huffed, looking up into your eyes with a softness that you could only describe as Remus.
“It’s a thousand yesses,” you told him, kissing him right there and then where he lay on the ground surrounded by orange, fallen leaves.
You were slow dancing in the flat to a record he had put on, hand clasped in his, and head on his chest.
“Some day we will have children, playmates for little Harry, and they will look like me but they will be the best of you,” he promised and you had only hugged him tighter.
You were two lovers reunited, on the night he turned up at your cottage asking you to give him another chance.
And as you’d made love to him, you realised it didn’t matter how much time you’d been apart, your body responded to him as it always had, like it simply belonged to him and had just been waiting for him to return.
You were standing under the rose bush in full bloom in your garden, as you finally joined hand as man and wife, and when Remus leaned in to kiss you a great black shaggy dog barked and barked until you were both laughing into the kiss.
“All I ever wanted was this,” you cried and Remus looked at you with great glassy eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, love,” he apologised, resting his head against yours.
“We got there in the end,” you’d whispered, reaching up on your tiptoes again to press your lips to his.
And finally it was in the moments before the Battle of Hogwarts began and you ran to fling your arms around him.
“For James and Lily,” you cried.
“For Sirius,” he returned and then at the same time you both agreed out loud,
“For Harry!”
“I love you,” you’d cried cupping his face in yours.
“I love you forever,” he promised, pressing his lips to yours, one final and last kiss.
The song began to fade out and you squeezed your eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but failed miserably and sobbed where you lay on the rug of your Sitting Room floor.
“I love you ‘till the end,”
Fifteen Years Later
“Mum?” Teddy called as he rushed down the stairs, “Mum is this okay?”
He appeared before you all gangly and long limbed, taller than you by a solid foot, he looked so like his Father it made your heart leap in your chest sometimes.
You looked up from the manuscripts, you were researching for your new book and smiled at his shy expression before you, he was wearing one of Remus’ knitted sweaters.
“Is it okay,” he asked shyly again and you were rising to cup his face in your hands, smiling gently.
“I just want her to think I’m cool,” he admitted, freckled cheeks turning slightly pink.
“Just be yourself Ted,” Hope said kindly from her spot reading on the sofa, “You are the coolest guy I know.”
“You are Remus Lupin’s son, that makes you automatically cool!” you agreed and he blushed even further.
“She told all her friends she fancied you,” Hope chimed in again and Teddy whirled his head around, “They were all talking about it in the common room.”
“There you go then, you can stop worrying,” you told him, “Come on you don’t want want to keep James and Victoire waiting with your date all alone,” you mused and grabbed your car keys.
He was silent and jittery in the car and you couldn’t help but remember your own nerves on the walk to Hogsmeade for your first date with Remus.
“Mum,” he asked voice small and you turned to look at him out of the corner of your eye, “Could you put on Dad’s song?” he asked, biting on the skin of his thumb, nervously.
“Of course,” you replied, pressing play on the CD function of your car radio and he visibly relaxed into his seat when the opening lines kicked in, staring out the window and stopped the bouncing of his knee, and you watched him pull the jumper closer around his body.
I just want to see you when you're all alone
I just want to catch you if I can
I just want to be there when the morning light explodes
Part II to I Don't Have a Choice. But I Still Choose You
Remus Lupin x Reader
Title is based on this song:
Request:
If you are taking requests could I please request a Remus one, where during the Battle of Hogwarts reader survives but Remus dies?
I've recently been re-reading ATYD and in Grant's chapters at the end you know with the pictures, I think it would be cute to see some snapshots of their relationship in the form of flashbacks.
It would be an amazing follow on from the one you wrote where they were reunited in Prisoner of Azkaban.
I'm not going through a good time at the moment and I'm in the mood to have my heart absolutely blown to pieces...please.
Warnings: Remus's death is addressed from the very opening lines. Grief and Despair.
Somebody was screaming.
Somebody was screaming and it was muffled and pained and you couldn’t place where it was coming from.
It was like a bomb had gone off beside you and everything was muffled and tinny and your ears were ringing.
But still somebody was screaming.
All of the sound seemed to rush back into your ears all at once as you collapsed to your knees beside him, reaching for him and realising with a jolt, that you had been the one screaming.
“No. No. No. You promised. You promised!” you were crying, scooping up his lifeless body and clinging to him.
“You promised. You promised. You promised,” you were repeating over and over into his hair as you rocked him in your arms, and barely even registered the gentle touch upon your shoulder as Poppy Pomfrey ducked down on her hunkers reaching out to steady you, tears streaming down her own cheeks and face twisted into a perfect mixture of horror and grief.
“He promised he’d never leave me on my own again,” you were wailing and she burst into tears of her own as she nodded, and reached out a hand to cup his cheek in her shaking hands.
“I loved him like he were my own child,” she cried and then rose to her full height again, clutching her chest and you didn’t think your heart could break any more.
“We had no time,” you cried and she reached for you again, “I thought we would have forever to make up for all those years that we lost, but it was no time at all.”
You weren’t quite sure how long you stayed like that, holding him to you and praying relentlessly to whatever God was listening to bring him back.
“Just bring him back, I will do anything. Bring him back. Bring him back to me. Please.”
People began to flurry around you filing out into the corridors and outside.
Poppy was before you again, coaxing you up.
“I can’t. I can’t leave him,” you clung to him tighter.
“You have to, otherwise it’s all for nothing. Otherwise, he died for nothing. We fight on, and we fight for him.”
Later, when the War was won, and Voldemort was dead, you could admit to yourself that you had fought for him, for Remus, to give Harry the best chance at surviving, and to do the man you loved proud.
You had been seriously wounded in your efforts, and sat nursing a healing potion from Poppy when Harry appeared before you indicating that he wanted to talk, and so you followed him out of the Great Hall, among the ruins of the courtyard and out along the viaduct.
“I’m so sorry, I never wanted Remus to die for me,” he said finally and you wanted to rush forward and scoop him into your arms, and so you did, pulling him to you in a fierce embrace and he sagged into your touch.
“I held you when you were just a few hours old,” you told him, pulling apart just enough to look into his eyes, Lily’s eyes, “Both of us did, and we swore we would do whatever it took to keep you safe. Remus would have given his life a thousand times over if it meant you had just the slightest chance. That was our choice and we made it willingly, you cannot carry the burden of that blame Harry.”
“But you had no time,” Harry mirrored your words from earlier, and you realised with a jolt that he must have heard you when you had been crying to Poppy.
“A thousand lifetimes with Remus would not have been enough for me,” you smiled through your tears “And I believe I will see him again some day,” you cupped Harry’s cheeks and he smiled through tears of his own.
“He appeared to me in the Forbidden forest, they all did, Mum. Dad. Sirius. I believe wherever they are, in the next world or wherever, they are all together.”
You smiled genuinely and with a warmth that bubbled up through your chest.
“I believe so too,” you reassured him and you walked together back into the castle, knowing you had put his young mind somewhat at ease and a strange feeling of peace washed over you too, knowing that Remus wasn’t alone, he'd spent too much time on his own in this life.
Four Months Later
“Thanks for meeting me,” you rushed breathlessly jiggling with a set of keys and Harry smiled.
“Of course,” he smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I know Grimmauld place was Order HQ, so you might associate it most with Sirius but this,” you said finally getting the door to open and stepping into the little entry way of a tiny flat, “This was Remus and Sirius HQ,” you smiled and you watched Harry take in the surroundings of the tiny flat.
“The three of us lived here,” you continued fluttering around and flicking on the lights, “Some of my happiest memories are here, ” you told him honestly and he was smiling.
You beckoned him to come sit down on the couch, and on the coffee table were piles and piles of leatherbound albums and he looked at you puzzled.
“I left these here when Remus and I separated,” you explained “But they go the whole way back to our times at school together, I wanted you to have them, there’s loads of your Mum and Dad, of Sirius and Remus and some of our happiest times before the War-and during, because life went on in the midst of it all, there’s even some of you in there too.”
“Thank you,” Harry cried diving in and reaching for one of them, flipping it open to a random page and that just so happened to be Remus and Sirius in their red and gold Gryffindor colours in the middle of the Quiddich pitch, hoisting James up on their shoulders while Lily laughed, red nosed and rosy cheeked.
“There are loads of records too, this place was always filled with music and I thought you should have those too, most of them belonged to Sirius, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to listen to them yet,” you smiled and Harry looked at you sadly.
“There’s one more thing Harry,” you said softly and handed the keys of the apartment over to him without amble, and he looked at you with something akin to surprise and horror.
“Sirius bought this place for us when neither myself or Remus had a penny to our names, and I know he would have wanted you to have it. I know you’re on track to becoming an amazing Auror and things are serious with Ginny, so I figured you would like somewhere to call your own, somewhere that could feel as safe as Hogwarts did to you, and I think this could be it.”
He looked completely stunned for a moment, so you continued “Remus and I should have both tried harder for you, we should have made ourselves known to you long before you ever had to encounter us as your teachers, we should have made sure you were safe and loved with the Dursleys but we didn’t, all I can do now is offer this place to you as a home that nobody can ever take away from you again.”
“What about you?” he cried and you smiled, even though your eyes were brimming with tears.
“I’ve got the cottage, Remus and I spent two really lovely years together there, we got married underneath the rose bush in the garden” you told him, “And well, I think I’m gonna need the space really.”
He looked at you in question before you were unbuttoning your cardigan to reveal the swollen skin of your stomach, and you rubbed your hand across the bump affectionately “He did promise he would never leave me on my own again,” you spoke through tears- although these ones were happy ones and Harry dove forward to hug you.
One Year Later
Doing life with two Newborns was not an easy feat by yourself.
There were times when you grieved for Remus so hard, it was hard to nail the basics like brushing your teeth, or showering- some days it felt impossible to even get out of bed, but then you would hear one of the twins start to fuss and you would remember you couldn’t let them down. Couldn't let him down.
Nobody could have imagined your surprise when you pushed your first baby into the world, a beautiful baby girl that you called Hope.
Hope had been Remus’ mother’s name, and from the day you found out you were expecting it had given you a new lease of hope in the darkest of times. What you hadn’t been suspecting was the sudden and uncontrollable urge to push again, and into the world arrived your boy Teddy Lupin.
The night feeds were what you found the toughest and it was always in these moments you would imagine Remus whispering “Sleep love, I’ll take this one,” the ghost of his presence was everywhere in the house and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would have cherished his two babies it was another of life's cruelties that he never had the chance to know them.
Today felt like any other day, except it was your birthday, your owl arrived with your Daily Prophet, some birthday cards and a package with a note in a scrawl you would have recognised anywhere and your heart momentarily stopped beating in your chest.
The twins were sleeping peacefully in their cot and you opened the wrapping paper gingerly, it was a vinyl and your heart stopped in your chest when you read the title Love You ‘Till The End by the Pogues.
The note read:
‘Happy birthday, my darling girl. Here’s another record to add to our collection. Together, or apart there’s only ever been you for me. The only woman I have ever loved, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my days with you. As the song suggests and rather romantically might I add, I will love you ‘till the end. Forever. Your Remus xxx’
You read the note through red hot tears, and you read it again and again until you willed it to memory, clutching it to your chest as if your heart was breaking all over again.
You made your way over to the record player and gently placed the needle down, sinking to your floor you lay down, the way you and Remus had always done whenever he insisted there was a song you needed to listen to.
“Close your eyes,” he’d instruct with a whisper and you would always comply, hand grasped tightly in his and eyes fluttering closed, this time your hand remained clutching the note firmly to your chest, missing him today more than ever.
“Grief is the proof that we have loved,” he used to say, well based on your grief for him alone, my god you had loved!
You let your eyes slip closed as the opening lines played.
“I just want to see you when you’re all alone,”
And for a moment you weren’t in your Sitting Room, you were a teenage girl running barefoot down a sandy beach in Cornwall, throwing sticks to a black shaggy dog who would return them time and time again for you to throw again, Remus laughing alongside you as the wind swept through his hair, and then he pulled you in for a kiss that stole your breath away.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” he laughed but was promptly nudged in the legs by Padfoot returning with the stick you had thrown.
And then the rest of the memories began to flood in.
You were drunk on cheap wine as your friends sat around the Living Room of your old flat laughing. Lily and James had just gotten engaged and Sirius had insisted on throwing a party.
“You’ll be next,” Lily had whispered as she saddled up beside you on the settee and Remus who had been topping up glasses around the room sent you a knowing smirk, at the two of you giggling on the couch.
“If I’m lucky,” you mused, meeting his eye and looking at him like he hung the moon and stars.
You were a crying mess as Remus got down on one knee, at the edge of the lake in St. James’ Park, and asked you to marry him.
You’d thrown yourself at him so hard, you’d knocked him off his feet and you both ended up a crumpled mess on the ground as you kissed every single inch of his face, and he was laughing so much he couldn’t even speak.
“Shall I take that as a yes?” he finally huffed, looking up into your eyes with a softness that you could only describe as Remus.
“It’s a thousand yesses,” you told him, kissing him right there and then where he lay on the ground surrounded by orange, fallen leaves.
You were slow dancing in the flat to a record he had put on, hand clasped in his, and head on his chest.
“Some day we will have children, playmates for little Harry, and they will look like me but they will be the best of you,” he promised and you had only hugged him tighter.
You were two lovers reunited, on the night he turned up at your cottage asking you to give him another chance.
And as you’d made love to him, you realised it didn’t matter how much time you’d been apart, your body responded to him as it always had, like it simply belonged to him and had just been waiting for him to return.
You were standing under the rose bush in full bloom in your garden, as you finally joined hand as man and wife, and when Remus leaned in to kiss you a great black shaggy dog barked and barked until you were both laughing into the kiss.
“All I ever wanted was this,” you cried and Remus looked at you with great glassy eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, love,” he apologised, resting his head against yours.
“We got there in the end,” you’d whispered, reaching up on your tiptoes again to press your lips to his.
And finally it was in the moments before the Battle of Hogwarts began and you ran to fling your arms around him.
“For James and Lily,” you cried.
“For Sirius,” he returned and then at the same time you both agreed out loud,
“For Harry!”
“I love you,” you’d cried cupping his face in yours.
“I love you forever,” he promised, pressing his lips to yours, one final and last kiss.
The song began to fade out and you squeezed your eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but failed miserably and sobbed where you lay on the rug of your Sitting Room floor.
“I love you ‘till the end,”
Fifteen Years Later
“Mum?” Teddy called as he rushed down the stairs, “Mum is this okay?”
He appeared before you all gangly and long limbed, taller than you by a solid foot, he looked so like his Father it made your heart leap in your chest sometimes.
You looked up from the manuscripts, you were researching for your new book and smiled at his shy expression before you, he was wearing one of Remus’ knitted sweaters.
“Is it okay,” he asked shyly again and you were rising to cup his face in your hands, smiling gently.
“I just want her to think I’m cool,” he admitted, freckled cheeks turning slightly pink.
“Just be yourself Ted,” Hope said kindly from her spot reading on the sofa, “You are the coolest guy I know.”
“You are Remus Lupin’s son, that makes you automatically cool!” you agreed and he blushed even further.
“She told all her friends she fancied you,” Hope chimed in again and Teddy whirled his head around, “They were all talking about it in the common room.”
“There you go then, you can stop worrying,” you told him, “Come on you don’t want want to keep James and Victoire waiting with your date all alone,” you mused and grabbed your car keys.
He was silent and jittery in the car and you couldn’t help but remember your own nerves on the walk to Hogsmeade for your first date with Remus.
“Mum,” he asked voice small and you turned to look at him out of the corner of your eye, “Could you put on Dad’s song?” he asked, biting on the skin of his thumb, nervously.
“Of course,” you replied, pressing play on the CD function of your car radio and he visibly relaxed into his seat when the opening lines kicked in, staring out the window and stopped the bouncing of his knee, and you watched him pull the jumper closer around his body.
I just want to see you when you're all alone
I just want to catch you if I can
I just want to be there when the morning light explodes
Summary: You're tired of pretending that you don't see the way Sirius and Remus look at each other. Tired of lying to yourself and them that you're not in love with both of them. But will the confrontation in the kitchen of your shared flat drive a wedge between yours and Remus' relationship or drive the three of you closer than ever?
It all started with a phone call back to your flat, you knew Remus was off work today and you really needed him to pick up, but as the line rang and rang you were getting more and more upset.
You held a hand to your mouth to stifle the sob that was threatening to escape, and in the confines of the four walls of your tiny office you felt like the walls were closing in on you.
“Hello?” the voice on the other line finally came through and you were full on crying out-
“Remus…”
“No, love it’s me what on earth is the matter?” It was Sirius and he sounded distraught and you couldn’t help it, the whole sorry story of your day and what you had learned when you stepped foot into your office that morning came spilling out in an instant, and he was shuffling in the background, pulling on his jacket and fumbling with his boots.
“Have you had lunch yet?” he asked gently and you sobbed out a no.
“I’ll be there in fifteen!” he said simply and didn’t leave room to argue even though you tried.
And exactly twelve minutes later his worried head popped around the glass partition you had for a door and he was pulling you into his arms like he was a lifeline for you to cling to, he was.
“I’m so sorry love,” he whispered into your hair and you clung to his leather jacket, crying like a child as he stroked reassuring patterns on your back.
“She was so young,” you cried and he was attempting to shush you gently.
“Motorbike accident,” he managed to understand, and something about her boyfriend but your sobs were wracking your body so hard he found it hard to understand the rest.
You were gently slapping his chest, “That’s why I get so scared every time you take yours out,” you said looking up at him with huge worried eyes and he shook his head reassuringly.
“I’m always careful love,” he tried to reason and you shook him gently, "I always come back to you both."
“Twelve minutes Sirius, I timed you!”
“Well you needed me love,” he whispered softly, so earnestly it made your heart beat out of your chest.
For a moment neither of you said anything else, just stood looking into each other’s eyes and then you were sure your breath caught in your chest when his eyes flicked down to your lips, you were keenly aware of his hand on your lower back and the desire to close the distance was eating you alive and you felt his gentle tug closer, lips inches apart before in the final second he placed his lips to the side of your mouth, merely millimeters from your lips and both of having seemed to come to your senses pulled apart.
“Let me take you out to lunch,” he whispered and you nodded, pulling your jacket on and followed him out the door to the elevator.
When Remus finally called you back hours later, apologizing profusely for having gone out for the day and forgotten his phone, he begged you to come home early and all you wanted to do was climb into his arms and have him make you forget about the rest of the world, but it would have to wait.
Your keys jangled in the door as you unlocked it and you toed your heels off in the entryway before you headed into the Living Room, and you followed the smell of dinner cooking into the kitchen.
Remus was stirring something that smelled amazing in a pot on the stove and Sirius was flitting around laying the table, you didn’t miss the way his hand would rest gently on your boyfriend’s back each time he passed, or the way Remus looked at him affectionately, not minding his hand there, like it simply belonged there.
You watched them in silence for a moment, seeing them this way always felt oddly domestic, like they were an old married couple simply pottering about their daily routine.
You said nothing as you slipped into your shared bedroom with Remus and rummaged for a pair of your comfiest leggings and one of Remus’ oversized, extra baggy knitted jumpers, it smelled like him and you allowed yourself to be drowned completely in the comforting scent of him for a few moments.
You made your way back into the kitchen, announcing yourself this time with a little clearing of your throat.
Suddenly both men were flocking towards you, arms outstretched and you felt a slight glimmer of guilt when Sirius hung back to let Remus scoop you up into his arms and kiss you.
“Dinner is nearly ready,” Remus said, voice low, “Food always helps,” he nodded and you nodded back, and finally Sirius took his turn to hold you and you leaned a little too heavy into his embrace.
You rummaged through the cupboard until you found the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon Sirius had brought home two nights ago and your hands shook as you emptied the bottle between three huge glasses.
Both men shared worried glances at how abnormally quiet you were being as you passed the glasses out, this only intensified when you took a monstrous gulp of wine and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
You had thought of nothing else but this moment since Sirius had left your office earlier and the sudden death of your colleague had really put into perspective how short life could be, so you had to do this and you had to do it tonight.
Now.
“We need to talk,” you said and both men stood to attention immediately.
Sirius went to move as if to say I’ll leave you to it, but you stilled him with a pleading gesture of your hand, eyes desperately begging him to stay exactly where he was.
“Both of you,” you rushed, “I need to speak to both of you.”
Both of them stood looking at you with the wide eyed anticipation of two schoolboys who were about to get a telling off from their headteacher, but you had their attention.
You took another abnormally large gulp of wine and nodded, it was now or never.
“Today put a lot of things into perspective for me, life is short- too short. And even more than that it’s too short not to be happy.”
You watched the terror wash over Remus’ face and you wanted so desperately to reach out to him and reassure him but if you didn’t say this now, you didn’t think you’d ever find the nerve to say it again.
“And you both so desperately deserve to be happy,” you cried, tears rushing to your eyes again and both of them made to move towards you but you held up both hands to stop them in their tracks.
“I feel as though we’ve been dancing around this for months and I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep lying- pretending that I don’t feel this way but I do, I really do.”
“Darling,” Remus cried and you wanted so badly to kiss the worried frown lines off his forehead “You’re beginning to frighten me-”
“-I’m in love with you,” you cut him off, “Both of you,” the words came out broken and shaky, like they’d been wretched out from you but they were out in the world now and you couldn’t take them back.
The silence in the kitchen was deafening, like a bomb had gone off in your chest, ears ringing and chest aching, and Sirius’ eyes were boring into yours, laced with longing to understand.
“And I think,” you continued “I think you have been in love with each other for even longer. I see the way you are drawn to each other like magnets, I see the lingering looks and the way you always have to be touching. The way you both stop breathing when I walk into the room, like I’ve almost caught you in the act of something you shouldn’t be doing. And I think subconsciously you have both made me the reason you can't be together. You won’t act on it Remus because of your loyalty to me, and Sirius because of your respect for our relationship, but you two are meant to be together, it’s so painfully obvious to me.”
Neither of them spoke so you finished the rest of your wine in one swoop.
“Remus I love you,” you finally spoke and the tears were back again, “I will never, ever not love you and there’s no possible future I would want if you’re not in it, but whenever I imagine our future Sirius in always in it, always with us, and I think if you are honest, really honest with yourself you feel that way too.”
“You love me?” Sirius finally broke the silence, but you found he could not look into your eyes, and all you could do was nod.
“So say it. Tell me I’m wrong- or that I’m insane. But we just work. The three of us, it makes perfect sense to me and I don’t want to wait a second longer without saying how I feel, in case you’ve both felt that way too and were just too scared to say it.”
Nobody moved and you felt your heart hammering in your ribcage as you pulled Remus’ knitted jumper closer to your body allowing his familiar scent to bring you some comfort, even if this was the last time you would ever be allowed to steal his clothes again.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Sirius finally spoke, breaking the silence and moving forward, “You’ve had a shock today and you’re not thinking clearly.”
You rounded on him, hurt etched across your features, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life- I’ve never seen things more clearly!” you defended, “Remus?” you begged turning your attention to him and he stood watching you wide eyed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“You can’t just spring something like this on us love, and expect us to have the answers, don’t you see what this could do to us all? You can’t throw something like that out there like it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” you cried, pleading “It’s everything,” you placed a hand against your chest to try and calm yourself but your anxiety was on overdrive, “I- I’m not asking you to love me back, I love you both, and I will be here if there is space for me, but I’m asking that you stop pretending that you are not in love with each other..like you haven’t been in love with each other for years.”
“She’s right,” Sirius’ voice was tiny and you almost missed it, but he cleared his throat and spoke up again “I’ve loved you from the first day I met you,” he admitted and Remus’ expression softened before him, any traces of anger melting away into a look of pure and pained hopefulness, “And I’ve loved her for almost as long as that, but she was your girl, and I loved you both too much to ever admit it out loud in case I lost you both. You’ve always been the bravest amongst us, our darling girl and you’re not wrong. You’re not insane, you are painfully and terrifyingly right about it all. But please don’t speak as if you are in the way, or as if we would need to make space for you, there is no us, figuratively or metaphorically where there is no space for you. There is no us without you.”
He reached out a hand tentatively to you and you grasped it, squeezing it three times in a silent promise I Love You
Remus was abnormally quiet and it shattered your heart when he turned back around to the stove and shut the hob off.
He wiped his hands on his corduroy pants and shrugged his apron off.
“We’re out of wine,” he said suddenly, “Might just nip out to the shops and grab another bottle.”
“Remus?” you tried and he was moving so fast you had to whip your neck around to follow him.
“Won’t be a tick!” he was shouting over his shoulder before he disappeared down the corridor and slipped out the door.
You ran a worried hand over your face and the tears began to flow down your face, had you just blown your whole relationship apart?
“He just needs a moment,” Sirius said pulling you into his arms, “You know he’s no good with this kind of thing. Took him six months to work up the courage to even ask you on a date.”
You laughed through your tears and Sirius looked at you like you’d gone insane. “I asked him on a date..got tired of waiting.”
Sirius laughed fondly and squeezed you, “Like I said bravest among us.”
Remus walked the short distance to the corner shop with his hands tucked into the pockets of his cardigan, the rain swallowed him almost instantly, soaking him through to his skin but he didn’t care.
The November air was biting and he bitterly regretted not grabbing his coat on the way out but he had to just put some distance between what was waiting for him in the kitchen when he returned. Not what...who.
He thought back to school, how he and Sirius had slapped each other, clambering over each other to speak to you the first day you appeared in their fifth year. Transferred from another school.
How your eyes had lit up when they landed with a crash before you and spoke over each other to introduce themselves.
How Lily had barked at them to back off and give you room to breathe, and how the three of you had been almost inseparable from day one.
You were serious about lessons and you always did your homework in the common room with Remus, you loved to pace up and down the floor whenever a test was coming up and have Remus quickfire questions your way, you claimed it was the only way you could study without wanting to throw up.
He thought of Sirius, how he had been his first kiss in a drunken haze, before the fireplace once everyone else had gone to bed after a party in their fourth year, how the next day both of them acted as though nothing had changed and before they’d even really had a chance to discover what it meant, you had arrived, and he had been so confused to have feelings for two people at the same time.
Living together after school had always been the plan and he and Sirius had been so excited when they viewed the flat, it was perfect, tiny but perfect, two bedrooms across the hall from each other and a tiny kitchen but a living room that would and in the time you’d all lived there hosted many a dinner and boardgames night for your small group of friends.
You and Sirius were the perfect hosts, flitting around filling up glasses and bringing little nibbles out on platters, dancing around the room like the perfect couple and something akin to pride always swelled in Remus’ chest, mine it said.
Mine.
He thought back to you both in the kitchen now, your face a mixture of terror and hope twisted into one as you’d so bravely said it out loud.
He felt it, of course he felt it, the way things had changed since you’d all moved in together, the way the air in the room changed whenever you walked into it, the way Sirius looked at you sometimes with such warmth and something lingering on sadness.
The way Sirius looked at him sometimes like he was the centre of his entire universe.
The way he tried to control himself around you both so much sometimes he forgot which one he wasn’t supposed to be touching and ended up stuffing his hands into his pockets simply to avoid pulling either of you into his arms.
His mind was utter chaos.
He stopped just outside the corner shop and pressed his palms to his face, the water dripped unceremoniously from his mop of curls and he was utterly soaked to his skin.
He loved you both, and he had been terrified to admit it for the longest time, he had foolishly thought that things could carry on this way forever, he had made peace with the fact that he could never have Sirius in that way and if stolen glances and lingering touches was all he could ever have he thought he had made peace with that.
But he loved you both, that was what he was running from, that single truth that he never dared to admit out loud- but it was out there now, you had blown the truth up like an atomic bomb in your kitchen, and it felt like you had taken the whole roof of your flat along with it and he didn’t know what to do.
If he went back, you would both be expecting an answer from him, he would have to make a choice that would affect your relationship from that moment on and it was tearing him apart.
He dipped inside the warmth of the shop and headed towards the alcohol section.
Fifteen minutes had passed and Remus had not returned, you were sick, inconsolable and Sirius himself was beginning to feel like maybe he should go out and look for him.
“I shouldn’t have done it,” you eventually spoke, voice soft and guilt laden.
Sirius shook his head and reached for you, “You did what all of us were too afraid to do.”
“But I should have spoken to him alone first, you know how shy he is, I shouldn’t have ambushed him in front of you, maybe he wasn’t ready. What if he never is?”
But then the unmistakable jingle of keys in the door had you leaping to your feet and your boyfriend appeared before you, wet clothes clinging to his tall and lanky frame, making him look thinner and paler than ever, bottle of wine clutched under his arm that Sirius carefully removed from his grasp and carried into the kitchen.
“I don’t know how to do this,” Remus finally admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
“I don’t know how to love both of you without feeling like I’m going to destroy everything. Y/N it is nothing short of a small miracle that I landed you in the first place and Sirius, I have wanted you since I was old enough to know what wanting another person like that was, and both of you are standing here before me, telling me that you want me? You two who could have anyone in the world you wanted and you want me? I’ll mess it all up. I don't know if I'm strong enough to exist like that without worrying I'll mess everything up.”
“We already are like that,” Sirius whispered, taking a tentative step towards Remus and relishing in the fact that he let him and didn’t take a step back. “We’ve been living like we are for so long, all of us afraid to admit that that’s what it was. You don’t have to do anything Rem, you just have to be, it’s as simple as breathing,” he told him closing the remaining distance and placing a gentle hand on Remus’s wrist, and he allowed himself be pulled closer and closer until Sirius pulled up onto his tip toes to press a kiss to the side of Remus face, and neither of you missed the gentle whimper that escaped his lips at the contact and then Sirius turned to press his lips to his and he leaned into the kiss sagging his whole weight into Sirius, hands flying up to tangle into his mass of black curls, and when they broke apart the shy smile that broke out across his face made your heart flutter in your chest.
“C’mere,” Remus husked and you made your way over tentatively and allowed him to pull you into an all encompassing, Remus hug.
“Have I ruined everything?” you whispered against his neck and he shook his head, his voice vibrating from somewhere deep within his chest.
“No, my sweet girl. You were amazing- I’m sorry I ran.”
He cupped your face in his large hands and smiled reassuringly at you, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“You love us both?” he said simply and you nodded in his hands, “We’ll figure it all out eh?”
Remus went to shower and Sirius set about re-heating the chilli Remus had been making and when he emerged from the room, looking slightly lighter than he had moments before, you poured the wine and the three of you sat at the table.
You ate in contented silence and you smiled to yourself when Sirius reached for Remus’ hand under the table and then catching themselves they lifted their joined hands and placed them softly upon the table.
With his free hand Remus lifted his wine glass indicating he was about to make a toast.
“To our brave girl,” he mused looking at you like you hung the moon and stars,
“Our brave girl,” Sirius parrotted and you couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that settled in your stomach.
Everything would be alright.
The door to your bedroom opened, sending a sliver of light into the room, Remus was snoring beside you and you sat up and followed Sirius’ retreating figure out into the Living Room.
“Can’t sleep?” you mumbled, eyes trying to adjust to the light.
“No love,” he smiled sadly and then admitted, “Didn’t want to be alone.”
“C’mere,” you mumbled and he slid easily into your arms.
Remus had been having one of his really bad migraine days and had been bedridden for most of the day and you knew these days hit hard for Sirius who felt helpless to do nothing.
“And he’s in pain with that hip and he won’t admit it.”
“I know,” you sniffed “I tried to talk to him about it earlier and he nearly took my head off.”
“He doesn’t mean to,” Sirius said quickly and you smiled as warmth filled your chest, he was always the first one to defend him.
“I just wish there was something we could do, he doesn’t deserve it.”
“Why don’t you sleep in with him tonight?” you offered and Sirius stopped rolling a cigarette to look up you through his lashes, “He called your name in his sleep tonight and I know it would bring you both comfort to sleep together.”
“What about you love?” he asked so gently it made your heart flutter.
“We could pull all the cushions in from the sofa and take the duvet from your bed and I’ll sleep right beside you on the floor,” you said warmly, “It’ll be like a sleepover.”
“Or,” a deep sleepy voice behind you both pulled your attention to the tall man leaning against the doorframe “We pull both mattresses into the Living Room, push them together and we make a little sandwich with you in the centre.”
“I like the sound of that,” Sirius wiggled his eyebrow and who were you to argue with such a proposition?
“Roll me up one too,” Remus demanded, “And one for the Lady.”
After cigarettes were had and the mattresses were struggled with, you settled in the middle of the two men you loved and both of them cuddled into you, Remus sighing deeply against your chest, when Sirius ran his fingers against his scalp to try ease the pain in his head.
“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping for a bigger bed,” Sirius mumbled against your neck, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep alone again,” he mused.
And nestled up between the two of your loves you slept better than you ever had in your entire life.
If you are taking requests could I please request a Remus one, where during the Battle of Hogwarts reader survives but Remus dies?
I've recently been re-reading ATYD and in Grant's chapters at the end you know with the pictures, I think it would be cute to see some snapshots of their relationship in the form of flashbacks.
It would be an amazing follow on from the one you wrote where they were reunited in Prisoner of Azkaban.
I'm not going through a good time at the moment and I'm in the mood to have my heart absolutely blown to pieces...please.
Oh my god honey, I remember the first time I read those additional chapters I sobbed so hard I nearly threw up, genuinely I nearly had to take time off work the next day.
So look I will do my best with this honey, it might have to wait until I'm sort of in that headspace to be down for a little while, but I promise I will try!
Also I'm really sorry you're feeling so down, honey my dms are always open if you need to talk xx
