#sinnners

credit goes to @thlaylisden ( the og creator / mastermind of Knight! Remmick )

it's been a long night and you're husband needs help undressing..

When Remmick had been knighted as Lord Commander of the King's personal guard, you had been ecstatic for him. This was everything that he had been clawing his way towards. All the months of training, the working back-to-back shifts, the sore muscles, the endless tourney’s⎯that nearly sent you to a grave. All of it had finally paid off. The only thing neither of you accounted for was how strenuous being Lord Commander would be. The long nights. The grueling early mornings. The waking up and going to bed not seeing each other. The growing loneliness. It was no wonder why the last Lord Commander had been unwed. It was hard to be a husband and  Lord Commander of the King's personal guard at the same time.

But, you weren’t ready to admit defeat just yet. This was what Remmick wanted. This was what he had worked so hard for. He wanted to be Lord Commander. You weren’t going to ask him to relinquish the title just because you were upset at not seeing him as often as you used to. You’d meet him halfway. You’d find a way to make it work, because you loved him with every fiber of your being. Hearing the creaking of the door opening, you lift your gaze up from the fireplace, hand resting on your swollen belly out of instinct. Taking off his helm with a tired sigh, you weakly smile at the sight, watching him discard his helm and sword at the door. His feet dragging and armor clinking together slightly.

“You’re awake.” He sighs, his face falling at the sight of you awake. 

“I am.” You nod, smiling at him softly.

“But, you shouldn't be awake, ( Y/n ).” He argues softly, a soft defeated sigh escaping his lips. “It’s not good for you or the babe, you need rest. More than I do.” 

“I will be fine if I miss a few hours of sleep to see my husband.” 

“You shouldn’t have.” He shakes his head, instantly rushing towards you.

Kneeling down in front of you as if you were something to be worshiped, he peels the leather gloves off his hands with his teeth, placing a tender hand on your baby bump. He was always so sweet⎯always so doting on your baby bump. The few moments where you woke up when he was in the middle of leaving, he always made sure to kiss the bump goodbye. You could tell that he was looking forward to being a Father, even if he wasn’t able to be around as much as you both had wanted. Cracking a soft smile at the sight, you cup his tired face into your hands, your thumb stroking his chin. His head rests just above the bump, as if he was trying to listen to the baby.

“You should be asleep.” He complains, his voice slightly muffled.

“I know.” You nod, “But, I wanted to see you. So did the babe.”

“That’s cruel to use the babe against me.” He frowns, shooting you a look.

“It is. But, so is not seeing my husband.” You grin softly, “So..Now, I am awake and able to see you once again.”

“Cruel woman.” He presses kisses down to your bump, “You have a cruel Mother, my little one. Denying you and herself sleep just so you can hear your Papa speak.”

Biting back a chuckle at his words, he lingers on your bump for a beat too long, his eyes shutting softly. For a man, who adored armor and wielded a sword with ease, he was such a softie. Slowly smiling at the heartwarming sight, his whole demeanor shifts, like the exhaustion of his day was no longer weighing down on his shoulders. His brows unfurrowed. His shoulders relaxed. His breathing slowed down. His grip releasing on your skirts. Tilting your head to the side, he presses one last lingering kiss onto your bump, slowly pulling away. His lips curled down softly.

“Come, come.” You motion for him to scoot back a little further, “Let me undress you, that armor must feel horrid after the day you have had.”

“You can barely stand on your own.” 

“Then, you will have to kneel for me. Don’t tell me this is your first time being on your knees for me, Remmick?” You jest, earning a snort from him. 

“Don’t start.” 

“Come on, let me undress you.” You click your tongue, tapping his chest. 

Begrudging scooting back a little bit for you, you begin to unbuckle the leather straps of his armor, carefully handing the iron plates back to him. Placing them down at your feet carefully, you eye the sweat soaked doublet underneath, your nose wrinkling up at the stench involuntarily. God almighty, he needed a good bath and you’d need to soak those clothes in lavender oil.  Tilting his head up with a hum, he catches your wrist, pressing a swift kiss onto the skin. Chuckling at his insistence to keep smothering you with affection, you pull at the laces roughly, unraveling the front of his doublet and tunic underneath. Trailing your fingers over his chest, you could feel the rapid beating of his heart, the warmth of his skin against yours after what felt like forever. Thump. Thump. Thump. He always did say that his heart beat only for you.

Slowly cracking a grin at you, you lean in before he could make a remark, pressing a kiss onto his lips. Letting out a hum of delight into the kiss, he slowly pulls back from the kiss, his hands to your waist. Fisting at the fabric of your skirts, he presses another kiss onto your lips, less rough and demanding than the previous. You couldn’t remember the last time that you had kissed him like this. Not a quick kiss to the cheek or forehead, but a real kiss. Pulling you off the chair, you snort against his lips, nearly topping on the floor as he was still on his knees before you. It was impractical and you were dangling precariously. But, he didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Breaking the kiss slowly, he eases you to sit on the ground, your butt hitting the cold tile.

“The last time you undressed me like this⎯” He starsts, a mischevious glimmer in his eyes.

“It was five moons ago, and now I am with child.” You cut him off, rolling your eyes playfully. “Who is kicking me in the ribs vary hard.”

Looking down with a smug smile on his face, he nods his head in agreement, his hands slowly trailing down from your bump to your knees. Cheeky little git. Fiddling with the thick linen of your skirts, he slowly pushes them, his thumb brushing against ribbon holding your stockings up. The fabric tight and barely fitting your growing body⎯though, little of anything fit nowadays. Your ankles grew swollen with each day. Your thighs were more plump and muscular from having to carry your newly added weight. Your once baggy dresses grew to be skin tight. You almost wanted to lay in bed in nothing but you're small clothes. Flicking your gaze between him and his wandering hands, his face softens, his eyes lingering on your bump. 

“Aye. Kicking Mummy in the ribs, are you?” He chuckles, rubbing a hand over your bump. “Making it hard for your Mummy to undress me. Naughty, naughty.”

“You do not need to scold them, lovely, I will continue to undress you for the rest of your life.” You smile, pushing his tunic off his shoulders. 

“My life?”

“Aye, I intend on life longer than you.” You tease, “I’m more important."

“That you are..” He whispers, his gaze softening. "You hear that? Your Mummy's very important, little one. And I cannot wait for you to meet her."

---