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wook77Title: In the Dark of the Night
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Characters: Remus/Tonks + a mystery pairing, click the second cut if you absolutely have to know in advance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: het, mystery pairing, present tense
Kinks chosen: Trichophilia, mystery pairing, bondage
Word Count: ~3100
Summary: Tonks wants Remus. Remus resists but Tonks always gets what she wants. At least, that's what she thinks.
Author's notes: Beta'd bywhy_me_why_not, sassy_cissa and nomeci. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Thanks to the mods at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
daily_deviant for the invitation!
Finally - Although I urge you to read this without the spoilers, if you must know what the mystery pairing is before you read, please click the second cut.
She's spent far too much time staring at him across the table and she knows it. Tonks is sure that Molly's caught on to her mooning – no pun intended – over Remus. Slightly ashamed of herself, Tonks has tried the direct approach but the "too old and too poor" brush off still stings. All she's left with is the traditionally girly sort of reaction to her attraction to him. She stares and she watches and she puts herself right in front of him at any and all opportunities. Maybe if he sees her often enough, if she's supportive enough, he'll come to her and she won't have to take a knock to her pride again.
Her mooning about also stings her pride. She's not the sort to just sit here and wait; it makes her think that she's just as young and silly and weak as Remus thinks she is. It's time for her to make a move so she sends a message to him, using an anonymous owl.
Dear Remus,
I'm stronger than you think. You're the one I want. Can't we talk about this? Will you come to my room?
Tonks
~~**~~
When she smiles at him from across the table, heat curls in his gut. When their hands touch as they pass the salt, that heat builds until it's all he can concentrate on. The tingle of her flesh touching his, combined with the wink and flirtatious looks, fuel his wanking on an almost-nightly basis.
If she looks at others, he ignores it because what they have is special and true. It's forbidden and entrancing. It's theirs and no one needs to know what would eventually happen behind closed doors. They are dancing around one another and that dance is enjoyable although he's about at the end of his patience.
The dance has lasted over a year now and he's going to break if it goes on much longer. How many more times would he watch her hair switch from pink to green to brown? It's the brown, the lackluster brown when she's normally so vibrant and alive, that upsets him the most. Tonks isn't meant for browns.
Leave your door unlocked tonight. Wear a blindfold. It's time. ~R.
That night at dinner, the table is full. Molly watches everyone and he swears that she watches him more than the rest. It's like she can read his mind and sees his plan to bring the colour back to Tonks's hair. Tonks does her part by talking to others though she occasionally sends a grin his way. He thinks it a bit of a risk when she winks at him, sly and knowing and tempting.
His appetite, normally voracious, plunges as the meal drags and they are closer and closer to the moment he's barely been able to hold back from. When the meal is finally finished, he escapes to the library, where he is cornered by Harry. Their conversation is stilted and he knows that is his fault. He's so close to the moment that he can taste it and his brain can't focus on much besides what Tonks's hair will feel like under his hands, what her skin will feel like as he brushes down her body. As Harry rambles on about Sirius and something to do with something else that he hasn't heard, he wonders about the weight of her breasts in his hand, if she can change their size like she changes her nose or hair colour.
Finally, Harry yawns and mentions that he's off for bed. They exchange pleasantries and then Harry leaves him alone in the room. Time drags while he waits, shifting chess pieces or pulling books from the shelves at random. He pauses to look at the tapestry on the wall, his finger rubbing against the fabric and wonders if Tonks will be wearing clothes or if she is waiting for him, naked and willing.
~~**~~
When the owl arrives, she's giddy. It's just after dinner and she dances about her room. It's a silly, girly gesture but she doesn't mind it here, in the privacy of her room. She hums a tune as she waltzes with herself though she pretends that Remus is dancing with her. As she sashays past the mirror, she sees her drab hair. She hates it when it's brown. Her nose scrunches slightly as she concentrates and then it's the bright pink that she had when she first met Remus. Well, Remus, Harry, Ron and Hermione, really, but it's mainly Remus.
She continues her dancing until she's in front of the small chest of drawers. She doesn't have much that's alluring; she's normally too practical for that. Had she had a bit of warning, she would've gone out and bought something special, just for tonight. Their first night should be special and she sighs when she realises that the only really sexy thing she has is a slightly transparent diaphanous robe.
Further searching doesn't reveal anything else that's even remotely in the same league so she decides on it. She strips quickly before grabbing a small bottle of lotion, scented like spring, and applies it everywhere. When she sniffs the air, she thinks that perhaps it's a bit strong, especially since she's not sure if Remus's sense of smell is stronger because he's a werewolf.
There's nothing for it, though, the deed is done and he'll be here soon. She just needs to find a blindfold. The request strikes her as odd. In fact, his owl is odd as he's never owled her before except to update her on Harry's status. Something in her own owl had to have changed his mind and whatever it is, she's thankful for it. She's been waiting for a year now, a year of mooning and subjugating herself.
She gives a triumphant cry when she finds an old House tie in a drawer and she slides it over her eyes and tightens it. Barely after she sits on the edge of the bed, the silky fabric of the robe sliding off a shoulder, there's a noise at the door. A moan spills out as she wonders just what he has planned for the evening.
~~**~~
After he decides that the house has settled for the night, he skulks through the dark along the halls he's memorised during his stay. It's a matter of moments before he finds himself outside Tonks's door. He knocks and her voice answers. He can tell from the way she says, "Come in" that she's been waiting for as long as he has.
His hand shakes as he grasps the doorknob and pulls it open. She is sitting on the bed wearing a sheer robe that shimmers in the wavering light of the fireplace. As she fidgets, crossing and uncrossing her legs, crossing her arms over her chest before reaching down to shift the fall of her robe, the light plays all over her body, giving him a glimpse of her breasts with her nipples dark and hard. Her thatch is a dark blur surrounded by the lightness of her skin and he wonders if she can change that colour at will like she can the rest of her hair.
He would ask but that will ruin this moment. The game and dynamics between them would shift and he'd rather have this moment than the knowledge for now. He'll find out the next time, when their relationship isn't so forbidden and tenuous. For now, he's satisfied with the way she strains to hear him as he moves across the room, tugging at his belt, pulling it from the loops of his denims.
"Remus?" Her voice shatters the moment and he's angry with her. Doesn't she know that she's to remain silent? How dare she call out that name? In his rage and upset, he's rougher than he'd planned as he grips her hands between his and loops his belt around them, tight and restrictive. She gives a distressed moan and he's tempted to slap her for her insult but instead, he presses his lips against hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth and ravaging across her lips. His teeth bruise as he kisses her and he tastes blood as his hands open her robe.
She smells of lavender and he much prefers her normal scent of vanilla. Lavender reminds him of Hogwarts and he doesn't appreciate the reminder that they will be separated in a few short weeks. Her skin, though, doesn't disappoint as his hands drift down her sides before tracing their way back up. His thumbs rub the underside of her breasts while his mouth ravages and she succumbs to the pressure by dropping back to the bed.
Her legs are splayed, wantonly displaying everything to his view while her blindfold stays fixed over her eyes. She's more than he'd thought and he strips quickly. He wants to feel that skin against his own skin. He's tired of his own hand, tired of his need and his want and her teasing.
His groan sounds far too loud in the hushed quiet of the room. Her breath picks up as he lowers himself onto her, pressing his hips against hers and trapping his cock between their bodies. Her head arches back, offering up her neck and he takes advantage, biting down and leaving a mark. "Yes, right there, again, Remus," she breathes out and the betrayal courses through him, lightning quick. She's called him that again when it isn't her place and it certainly isn't his.
His teeth aren't gentle the second time he bites down, just to the right of her nipple. She shrieks into the room while his hand cups her breast and holds it steady, biting it again before sucking in her nipple. She arches off the bed, driving their hips even closer together.
~~**~~
When he enters the room, her nervousness increases to the point that her pulse sets off racing. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. She's not sure which looks better. She figures she must look like a little girl with her legs demurely held together at the knees so she crosses them again.
The robe slips off her shoulder again and she crosses her arms to hold it in place. There's no sound of movement and her nervousness increases again. She needs to know what's going on and so she calls out, "Remus?"
Suddenly, it's all teeth and hands while her wrists are trapped inside leather. The bindings are too tight and her hands start to go numb. She gives a distressed moan but his mouth is over hers and she doesn't have a chance to ask for them to be loosened.
His hands rove over her body, pushing her arms out of the way before plunging into the robe and gripping at her flesh. He's forceful, dominant. She hadn't quite expected that but she enjoys it just the same. She likes him taking charge and the feel of the teeth on her flesh.
When he clasps her breasts, she feels him urging her to fall back. Hands falling over her head, she drops back onto the bed and spreads her legs but he's gone and she wonders what he's doing. She opens her legs further and hears him groaning. Her lips curl into a sultry smile and then his weight is pressing her into the mattress. His cock is hard and thick between their bodies and she wants it, wants him to continue ravaging her. The need's been building for too long and this hard fuck is just what she wants. She arches her neck, invitation clear, and he bites down. The pain combines into a thrill.
"Yes, right there, again, Remus," she breathes out and this time, the bite comes close to her nipple. She knows it's going to mark and she wants it. It's in a hidden place, one that only she'll see as she steps in and out of the bath or when she's changing. It's a mark that will prove this moment happened even if things shift back to before.
His weight is off her again and she mewls, missing the warmth and feel of his body on hers. His hands grip her hips and they're urging her over, onto her knees and she obeys. She's willing to do almost anything tonight if it means that they can be together. There's time, later, for softness.
He slides into her while she's on her knees and bound hands.
His fingers thread through her hair, brushing up her scalp before suddenly tightening and yanking. Her neck arches and she cries out. Her senses are in overload. This is more than she'd dreamed of or hoped for.
~~**~~
He smiles around the mouthful of flesh trapped between his teeth. It pleases him that she likes the roughness as the need's taken control and it's hard enough to control the urge to pound into her, fucking her hard enough to send her sliding up the bed until she hits the wall.
Her legs shift, trapping one of his and that won't do. She isn't to be moving like this. He decides that the only way to keep her from moving unless he wants her to move is to place her on her hands and knees. He stands back up and then flips her over. She's on her knees and her legs are still open and he can see everything. His finger brushes along her ass delving deeper until it touches her clit. She's wet and he drops to his knees on the bed and is thrusting into her as quickly as he can.
She arches her neck, bringing her head closer to his and he grips her hair, holding her steady and unmoving. She's trapped and he enjoys her position. His other hand grasps her hip and he's sure that there will be five bruises on her flesh tomorrow. The idea makes him smile.
She moans when he changes the angle of his thrusts and he repeats it. She's panting and his breath is soon matching hers. When he slides out, she clenches him. When he thrusts in, she mewls. He speeds up and she matches. He leans forward, nose pressed into her hair and there is the vanilla scent that he loves. Her hair tickles his nose and his face. He's always loved her hair, hadn't thought that he could love it more but this moment shows him just how wrong he'd been. His fingers let go before rubbing along her scalp and tightening once more.
The feel of her surrounding him and taking him in, her hips pushing back against him when he sinks in, is almost too much. It's been He's wanted this for too long and his control isn't the greatest. He spills into her, shouting hoarsely as he clenches his hands on her body.
He's fairly certain that she came but he doesn't have the experience to know for sure. He just knows that there were conversations in the girl's dorms about faking that had trickled down the stairs. They're enough to make him wonder but she seems boneless enough, sinking into the mattress when he lets go of her hair and hips.
Somewhere else in the house, a clock chimes one and Ron knows he's spent too much time in here. Harry will wonder where he's been, especially since they have to go to Bill and Fleur's wedding on the morrow, or, he corrects himself, later this morning. He quickly pulls on his denims and walks out of the room.
When he makes it into the safety of the room they share, Harry's snoring and dead to the world. Ron's thankful for it as he hadn't been able to think of a proper excuse for his delay.
~~**~~
His grip on her hair, tightening and tugging roughly, sends her over the edge, muscles clenching and releasing too fast for her to even know which to expect. She's too spent to do much more than collapse onto the bed when he lets go of her. Her arms slide up so that they're held above her head, wrists still bound.
A clock chimes and then the sound of the door shutting follows closely. She's confused and still bound. The air is chilly and her damp skin erupts in gooseflesh. She waits for him to come back, perhaps he's just checking on Harry, but he doesn't come back. Finally, she flops over and nudges the blindfold off her eyes. She doesn't recognise the belt that traps her wrists but that doesn't mean anything as Tonks is quite sure that she doesn't have Remus's wardrobe memorised.
Her nose scrunches as she shrinks her hands down to child sized and the belt comes off easily. Hands back to normal, she lays the belt on the top of her dressing table and slips on a more substantial robe. She peeks out into the hallway and is quite glad there's no one out there. She showers and marvels at the nips and bruises. She wonders if the werewolf in him makes him so forceful and that's what he'd meant by 'too dangerous'.
She enjoyed it, though; she loved the feel of him taking control and she hopes that it will happen again, sooner rather than later. She falls asleep with a smile on her face, sure in the knowledge that he'll have a proper explanation for leaving her so quickly afterwards.
The next morning at breakfast, she fingers a bruise on her wrist while she smiles at Remus. He smiles back and she blows him a kiss. He flushes and looks away. She beams at the table and offers to help with the dishes but Molly waves her off.
She hums as she follows Remus into the library. She doesn't see the glare directed at their backs. When they reach the library, Remus is acting coy, pushing her hand off his arm and when she goes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, he steps back and says, "We've discussed this, Nymphadora. I'm completely inappropriate for you."
She's crushed and makes her way back to her room. Flopping onto her bed, she closes her eyes and tries her best not to cry. The sheets still smell like them and she lays her hand where they'd been entwined. Something tickles and she opens her eyes to look.
She expects a brown hair or even a gray one. Instead, it's red, bright red.
The secondary pairing, for those that want spoilers before reading is Ron/Tonks.
Author:
wook77Characters: Remus/Tonks + a mystery pairing, click the second cut if you absolutely have to know in advance
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: het, mystery pairing, present tense
Kinks chosen: Trichophilia, mystery pairing, bondage
Word Count: ~3100
Summary: Tonks wants Remus. Remus resists but Tonks always gets what she wants. At least, that's what she thinks.
Author's notes: Beta'd by
why_me_why_not, sassy_cissa and nomeci. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Thanks to the mods at daily_deviant for the invitation! Finally - Although I urge you to read this without the spoilers, if you must know what the mystery pairing is before you read, please click the second cut.
She's spent far too much time staring at him across the table and she knows it. Tonks is sure that Molly's caught on to her mooning – no pun intended – over Remus. Slightly ashamed of herself, Tonks has tried the direct approach but the "too old and too poor" brush off still stings. All she's left with is the traditionally girly sort of reaction to her attraction to him. She stares and she watches and she puts herself right in front of him at any and all opportunities. Maybe if he sees her often enough, if she's supportive enough, he'll come to her and she won't have to take a knock to her pride again.
Her mooning about also stings her pride. She's not the sort to just sit here and wait; it makes her think that she's just as young and silly and weak as Remus thinks she is. It's time for her to make a move so she sends a message to him, using an anonymous owl.
I'm stronger than you think. You're the one I want. Can't we talk about this? Will you come to my room?
Tonks
When she smiles at him from across the table, heat curls in his gut. When their hands touch as they pass the salt, that heat builds until it's all he can concentrate on. The tingle of her flesh touching his, combined with the wink and flirtatious looks, fuel his wanking on an almost-nightly basis.
If she looks at others, he ignores it because what they have is special and true. It's forbidden and entrancing. It's theirs and no one needs to know what would eventually happen behind closed doors. They are dancing around one another and that dance is enjoyable although he's about at the end of his patience.
The dance has lasted over a year now and he's going to break if it goes on much longer. How many more times would he watch her hair switch from pink to green to brown? It's the brown, the lackluster brown when she's normally so vibrant and alive, that upsets him the most. Tonks isn't meant for browns.
That night at dinner, the table is full. Molly watches everyone and he swears that she watches him more than the rest. It's like she can read his mind and sees his plan to bring the colour back to Tonks's hair. Tonks does her part by talking to others though she occasionally sends a grin his way. He thinks it a bit of a risk when she winks at him, sly and knowing and tempting.
His appetite, normally voracious, plunges as the meal drags and they are closer and closer to the moment he's barely been able to hold back from. When the meal is finally finished, he escapes to the library, where he is cornered by Harry. Their conversation is stilted and he knows that is his fault. He's so close to the moment that he can taste it and his brain can't focus on much besides what Tonks's hair will feel like under his hands, what her skin will feel like as he brushes down her body. As Harry rambles on about Sirius and something to do with something else that he hasn't heard, he wonders about the weight of her breasts in his hand, if she can change their size like she changes her nose or hair colour.
Finally, Harry yawns and mentions that he's off for bed. They exchange pleasantries and then Harry leaves him alone in the room. Time drags while he waits, shifting chess pieces or pulling books from the shelves at random. He pauses to look at the tapestry on the wall, his finger rubbing against the fabric and wonders if Tonks will be wearing clothes or if she is waiting for him, naked and willing.
When the owl arrives, she's giddy. It's just after dinner and she dances about her room. It's a silly, girly gesture but she doesn't mind it here, in the privacy of her room. She hums a tune as she waltzes with herself though she pretends that Remus is dancing with her. As she sashays past the mirror, she sees her drab hair. She hates it when it's brown. Her nose scrunches slightly as she concentrates and then it's the bright pink that she had when she first met Remus. Well, Remus, Harry, Ron and Hermione, really, but it's mainly Remus.
She continues her dancing until she's in front of the small chest of drawers. She doesn't have much that's alluring; she's normally too practical for that. Had she had a bit of warning, she would've gone out and bought something special, just for tonight. Their first night should be special and she sighs when she realises that the only really sexy thing she has is a slightly transparent diaphanous robe.
Further searching doesn't reveal anything else that's even remotely in the same league so she decides on it. She strips quickly before grabbing a small bottle of lotion, scented like spring, and applies it everywhere. When she sniffs the air, she thinks that perhaps it's a bit strong, especially since she's not sure if Remus's sense of smell is stronger because he's a werewolf.
There's nothing for it, though, the deed is done and he'll be here soon. She just needs to find a blindfold. The request strikes her as odd. In fact, his owl is odd as he's never owled her before except to update her on Harry's status. Something in her own owl had to have changed his mind and whatever it is, she's thankful for it. She's been waiting for a year now, a year of mooning and subjugating herself.
She gives a triumphant cry when she finds an old House tie in a drawer and she slides it over her eyes and tightens it. Barely after she sits on the edge of the bed, the silky fabric of the robe sliding off a shoulder, there's a noise at the door. A moan spills out as she wonders just what he has planned for the evening.
After he decides that the house has settled for the night, he skulks through the dark along the halls he's memorised during his stay. It's a matter of moments before he finds himself outside Tonks's door. He knocks and her voice answers. He can tell from the way she says, "Come in" that she's been waiting for as long as he has.
His hand shakes as he grasps the doorknob and pulls it open. She is sitting on the bed wearing a sheer robe that shimmers in the wavering light of the fireplace. As she fidgets, crossing and uncrossing her legs, crossing her arms over her chest before reaching down to shift the fall of her robe, the light plays all over her body, giving him a glimpse of her breasts with her nipples dark and hard. Her thatch is a dark blur surrounded by the lightness of her skin and he wonders if she can change that colour at will like she can the rest of her hair.
He would ask but that will ruin this moment. The game and dynamics between them would shift and he'd rather have this moment than the knowledge for now. He'll find out the next time, when their relationship isn't so forbidden and tenuous. For now, he's satisfied with the way she strains to hear him as he moves across the room, tugging at his belt, pulling it from the loops of his denims.
"Remus?" Her voice shatters the moment and he's angry with her. Doesn't she know that she's to remain silent? How dare she call out that name? In his rage and upset, he's rougher than he'd planned as he grips her hands between his and loops his belt around them, tight and restrictive. She gives a distressed moan and he's tempted to slap her for her insult but instead, he presses his lips against hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth and ravaging across her lips. His teeth bruise as he kisses her and he tastes blood as his hands open her robe.
She smells of lavender and he much prefers her normal scent of vanilla. Lavender reminds him of Hogwarts and he doesn't appreciate the reminder that they will be separated in a few short weeks. Her skin, though, doesn't disappoint as his hands drift down her sides before tracing their way back up. His thumbs rub the underside of her breasts while his mouth ravages and she succumbs to the pressure by dropping back to the bed.
Her legs are splayed, wantonly displaying everything to his view while her blindfold stays fixed over her eyes. She's more than he'd thought and he strips quickly. He wants to feel that skin against his own skin. He's tired of his own hand, tired of his need and his want and her teasing.
His groan sounds far too loud in the hushed quiet of the room. Her breath picks up as he lowers himself onto her, pressing his hips against hers and trapping his cock between their bodies. Her head arches back, offering up her neck and he takes advantage, biting down and leaving a mark. "Yes, right there, again, Remus," she breathes out and the betrayal courses through him, lightning quick. She's called him that again when it isn't her place and it certainly isn't his.
His teeth aren't gentle the second time he bites down, just to the right of her nipple. She shrieks into the room while his hand cups her breast and holds it steady, biting it again before sucking in her nipple. She arches off the bed, driving their hips even closer together.
When he enters the room, her nervousness increases to the point that her pulse sets off racing. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. She's not sure which looks better. She figures she must look like a little girl with her legs demurely held together at the knees so she crosses them again.
The robe slips off her shoulder again and she crosses her arms to hold it in place. There's no sound of movement and her nervousness increases again. She needs to know what's going on and so she calls out, "Remus?"
Suddenly, it's all teeth and hands while her wrists are trapped inside leather. The bindings are too tight and her hands start to go numb. She gives a distressed moan but his mouth is over hers and she doesn't have a chance to ask for them to be loosened.
His hands rove over her body, pushing her arms out of the way before plunging into the robe and gripping at her flesh. He's forceful, dominant. She hadn't quite expected that but she enjoys it just the same. She likes him taking charge and the feel of the teeth on her flesh.
When he clasps her breasts, she feels him urging her to fall back. Hands falling over her head, she drops back onto the bed and spreads her legs but he's gone and she wonders what he's doing. She opens her legs further and hears him groaning. Her lips curl into a sultry smile and then his weight is pressing her into the mattress. His cock is hard and thick between their bodies and she wants it, wants him to continue ravaging her. The need's been building for too long and this hard fuck is just what she wants. She arches her neck, invitation clear, and he bites down. The pain combines into a thrill.
"Yes, right there, again, Remus," she breathes out and this time, the bite comes close to her nipple. She knows it's going to mark and she wants it. It's in a hidden place, one that only she'll see as she steps in and out of the bath or when she's changing. It's a mark that will prove this moment happened even if things shift back to before.
His weight is off her again and she mewls, missing the warmth and feel of his body on hers. His hands grip her hips and they're urging her over, onto her knees and she obeys. She's willing to do almost anything tonight if it means that they can be together. There's time, later, for softness.
He slides into her while she's on her knees and bound hands.
His fingers thread through her hair, brushing up her scalp before suddenly tightening and yanking. Her neck arches and she cries out. Her senses are in overload. This is more than she'd dreamed of or hoped for.
He smiles around the mouthful of flesh trapped between his teeth. It pleases him that she likes the roughness as the need's taken control and it's hard enough to control the urge to pound into her, fucking her hard enough to send her sliding up the bed until she hits the wall.
Her legs shift, trapping one of his and that won't do. She isn't to be moving like this. He decides that the only way to keep her from moving unless he wants her to move is to place her on her hands and knees. He stands back up and then flips her over. She's on her knees and her legs are still open and he can see everything. His finger brushes along her ass delving deeper until it touches her clit. She's wet and he drops to his knees on the bed and is thrusting into her as quickly as he can.
She arches her neck, bringing her head closer to his and he grips her hair, holding her steady and unmoving. She's trapped and he enjoys her position. His other hand grasps her hip and he's sure that there will be five bruises on her flesh tomorrow. The idea makes him smile.
She moans when he changes the angle of his thrusts and he repeats it. She's panting and his breath is soon matching hers. When he slides out, she clenches him. When he thrusts in, she mewls. He speeds up and she matches. He leans forward, nose pressed into her hair and there is the vanilla scent that he loves. Her hair tickles his nose and his face. He's always loved her hair, hadn't thought that he could love it more but this moment shows him just how wrong he'd been. His fingers let go before rubbing along her scalp and tightening once more.
The feel of her surrounding him and taking him in, her hips pushing back against him when he sinks in, is almost too much. It's been He's wanted this for too long and his control isn't the greatest. He spills into her, shouting hoarsely as he clenches his hands on her body.
He's fairly certain that she came but he doesn't have the experience to know for sure. He just knows that there were conversations in the girl's dorms about faking that had trickled down the stairs. They're enough to make him wonder but she seems boneless enough, sinking into the mattress when he lets go of her hair and hips.
Somewhere else in the house, a clock chimes one and Ron knows he's spent too much time in here. Harry will wonder where he's been, especially since they have to go to Bill and Fleur's wedding on the morrow, or, he corrects himself, later this morning. He quickly pulls on his denims and walks out of the room.
When he makes it into the safety of the room they share, Harry's snoring and dead to the world. Ron's thankful for it as he hadn't been able to think of a proper excuse for his delay.
His grip on her hair, tightening and tugging roughly, sends her over the edge, muscles clenching and releasing too fast for her to even know which to expect. She's too spent to do much more than collapse onto the bed when he lets go of her. Her arms slide up so that they're held above her head, wrists still bound.
A clock chimes and then the sound of the door shutting follows closely. She's confused and still bound. The air is chilly and her damp skin erupts in gooseflesh. She waits for him to come back, perhaps he's just checking on Harry, but he doesn't come back. Finally, she flops over and nudges the blindfold off her eyes. She doesn't recognise the belt that traps her wrists but that doesn't mean anything as Tonks is quite sure that she doesn't have Remus's wardrobe memorised.
Her nose scrunches as she shrinks her hands down to child sized and the belt comes off easily. Hands back to normal, she lays the belt on the top of her dressing table and slips on a more substantial robe. She peeks out into the hallway and is quite glad there's no one out there. She showers and marvels at the nips and bruises. She wonders if the werewolf in him makes him so forceful and that's what he'd meant by 'too dangerous'.
She enjoyed it, though; she loved the feel of him taking control and she hopes that it will happen again, sooner rather than later. She falls asleep with a smile on her face, sure in the knowledge that he'll have a proper explanation for leaving her so quickly afterwards.
The next morning at breakfast, she fingers a bruise on her wrist while she smiles at Remus. He smiles back and she blows him a kiss. He flushes and looks away. She beams at the table and offers to help with the dishes but Molly waves her off.
She hums as she follows Remus into the library. She doesn't see the glare directed at their backs. When they reach the library, Remus is acting coy, pushing her hand off his arm and when she goes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, he steps back and says, "We've discussed this, Nymphadora. I'm completely inappropriate for you."
She's crushed and makes her way back to her room. Flopping onto her bed, she closes her eyes and tries her best not to cry. The sheets still smell like them and she lays her hand where they'd been entwined. Something tickles and she opens her eyes to look.
She expects a brown hair or even a gray one. Instead, it's red, bright red.
The secondary pairing, for those that want spoilers before reading is Ron/Tonks.
