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The Good Wife

Title: The Good Wife
Characters/Pairing: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Story Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~600
Summary: "Nymphadora…” he slurred. “You look quite dykish tonight! Purple, spiky hair. What the hell, Dora? You know I like it longer…darker. What’re you playing at?” His words were no surprise; nine out of ten times he got drunk, he came home to abuse and insult her. She wanted to defend herself against him, but she couldn’t.
Warnings/Notes: I wrote this for  snegurochka_lee's Least Favourite Character/Pairing Drabble/Drawble & Ficlet Challenge over at IJ. I got a little carried away, both with the content and with the word count. Seriously, this is hardcore. Be warned.  

Nymphadora Tonks Lupin was in her kitchen, pretending to read a book whilst sitting at her table. Remus wasn’t home yet and it was long past midnight. Dressed only in a robe, she kept flipping the pages, trying to digest the words on the page. She was worried, to say the least, but not about his safety. She just prayed to every higher being that she knew of that Remus was not out drinking. 
However, her worst fear came true when she heard the keys jingling in the lock. He was home, sloshed most likely. She confirmed that he was definitely drunk when he walked into the house, his steps unsteady, his expression angry. 
“Nymphadora…” he slurred. “You look quite dykish tonight! Purple, spiky hair. What the hell, Dora? You know I like it longer…darker. What’re you playing at?” His words were no surprise; nine out of ten times he got drunk, he came home to abuse and insult her. She wanted to defend herself against him, but she couldn’t. He was her Remus, her Remus Lupin. During the day, he was calm, sweet, he was wonderful. It was only now that he lost control, and she couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything to stop it. 
“I hate you, you know. You’re name’s stupid. It means promiscuous slut, you know. It’s not the right name. It’s not Sirius…it’s not even Snape. Nymphadora…it’s the wrong name.” 
This was also typical of him, but it didn’t make it easier for her to take. Her husband wished she were one of two men; one was dead, the other, a traitor. She was neither of those things, and yet…he preferred them to her. 
He stumbled over to her and untied the belt around her robe. He pushed the fabric off of her so that she was stark naked. He threw her down to the ground, laughing as she cried, and pulled his cock out of his pants. 
“Suck it, nymph.” 
She did, of course, as tears slowly fell from her eyes. She had a moment of wonder; why did she give in? Then she remembered; the one time she tried to resist, he got much, much worse. He hit her, hard, and slapped her across the face. Yes, this was much better than having to charm away the black eyes. At least this wouldn’t last too long. 
As she closed her mouth around his cock, his hands flew into her hair and pulled her face against him. She gagged, which only made him pull harder.  She couldn’t breathe, literally. He kept her head against his torso with one hand while the other moved to plug her nose. She was choking; gasping for air when he started to thrust into her. 
When he finally let go, it was to slap her across the face and call her a ‘little whore’. He quickly shoved his dick back into her open mouth and moved his hips quickly and hard. She was sobbing now, the tears smearing the remains of her makeup down her face. He didn’t care; he continued to drive into her mouth, grunting with every forward push. When he finally came and walked a few steps away, Tonks threw up. 
“Clean that up, you little…” She knew what he was going to say, but instead, he fell to the ground beside her and passed out. She sat on the floor for another hour, her sobs growing louder. She buried her face in her hands and fell asleep next to her loving husband, just as a good wife should. 

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