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warnings: afab reader, breeding kink, baby fever, established relationship, piv, cowgirl, creampie, lion has a stupid big dick, discussion of having kids/settling down, reader is mentioned to have an accounting job & is the nerdy type, having kids is treated lightheartedly bc they’re in love and know what they want, slight fluff, reader has some body/self-image issues
a/n: no beta. loosely inspired by @spikedfearn’s excellent girldad!lion fic series. also based on “sillyfun” by doja cat bc it rips and screams lion to me. even though there’s an interracial pairing in the fic banner, there is no race specified for reader
divider creds @softandsleepyboy
It was palpable whenever the two of you went to the supermarket and happened to pass by the ‘baby section’. The way your bottom lip stuck out in awe at every one of the products specially designed for the little humans. Whether it was a bassinet, a bouncer, or one of those rubber bibs that could catch food, you were obsessed. Anything jungle or “Lion-themed” in the slightest sent you over the edge. Your own Lion—your Walter—tried to remain impartial, merely nodding along warmly at every tiny, cute thing you presented to him in adoration. But even he couldn’t stave off his own genuine curiosity.
“Wonder how much use you’d really get outta this kinda thing,” Lion arches his eyebrow skeptically.
He holds up a medium-sized box containing a 3-in-1 baby bottle warmer. Its inoffensive pastel yellow packaging and loopy-de-loop bumblebee design has you endeared to the product instantly. You shrug, clearly never having had any firsthand experience with items like it.
“I dunno,” you say, “My co-worker Becca had like six different versions of these on her gift registry when she was preggers. You remember Becca, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Lion says.
He does not.
“Guess there’s some that sanitize and defrost and others that can only do breastmilk or only formula—it’s just, like, a lot,”
“And that’s just for warming up bottles,” he sighs with exasperation, a faint drag of a smile forming on his face.
Lion sets the box back on the shelf, watching as you smooth your fingers over the cottony four-pack of onesies hanging on a rack of other unisex baby clothing. You had both made your desires to have kids somewhere down the line clear from damn near the first date. Even still, the two of you carried on like the consummate adults you both claimed to be. For the first few months of dating, Lion wore condoms whenever the two of you were intimate. You had been and still were on the pill, even three years later.
While you had found stability with your career in accounting and Lion, with his limited formal education background, managed to secure a job in management at your local youth rec center, the goal was to wait until after you were married. As that was the orthodox way. But the more you’d been mulling on it, the more it truly occurred to you just how unorthodox what you and Lion had was.
For starters, he moved in with you in less than a year, much to the dismay of your mom and dad. He was, of course, a big-time sports fan and ex-boxer who still grappled with the physical consequences to this day. You barely ran the mile in under twenty minutes in high school P.E. By some of your friends’ accounts, you and Lion were an odd couple. Many found you akin to a 2000s teen romcom, with Lion subscribing to the knucklehead jock stereotype,e and you embodying the geeky mathlete profile.
But you loved him to the moon and back, and he loved you, and you alone lit up the sun. It was deeper than date nights, consisting of takeout or putting on scary movies he hid in your chest for the entirety of. Though those didn’t hurt either. From his shaggy copper-brown locks to his crooked nose to his shaky hands and his bouncing knee—those eyes were home. And you never, ever wanted to leave.
Not without some little footsteps trailing behind you, at least.
You peer back over your shoulder, eyeing the progress Lion’s been making with the zipper of your midi bodycon floral print dress. He was struggling a fair bit with it on account of his arthritic fingers, and you were beginning to feel bad.
“D-Do you need…? Lion, I can just—”
“N-N-No, I-I got it. Y’asked me to. I can do it,” he says in a determined tone.
“Babe,” you chuckle, “Seriously,”
“...think it’s caught,” he mutters.
You roll your eyes, not believing him at first, redirecting your focus to securing one of your hoop earrings to your ears. A few more moments pass, and you sigh, wanting to just do it yourself. You nudge his hands away, awkwardly wrangling the zipper into your hand from behind your back. The angle makes your shoulders ache,e but you soon realize the zipper is indeed caught on something, more than likely the dress itself.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Li. I thought you were just messing around,” you cringe.
“Who? Me? Messing around? Never,” he jokes in his thick Bostonian accent you love.
You scoff and let the dress sleeves hang limp off of your shoulders, the zipper barely stretching up over the curve of your ass. You pivot on your heel to face Lion, half-dressed, while he looks swell in his baby blue button-up and navy tie.
“Guess I could just show up to dinner like this?” you say, eyebrows raised.
He snorts at your blatantly exposed torso and pastie-covered nipples, bobbing his head along to your suggestion. With open arms, he takes you in, grinning and pressing a kiss to the crown of your scalp. Then he humorously begins to lightly sway with your figure, sashaying to some imaginary music in his brain.
“At least then this cheap ass dress might look half-decent,” you muse.
“Please. Y’could show up in a burlap sack and you’d still knock ‘em dead,” he murmurs into your hair.
“Uh-huh. Totally. I’m no Marilyn Monroe, that’s for sure,”
“You are to me,” he says, candidly, “You are,”
You gaze up at him, mustering a tender smile while a lump grows in your throat. You clear it, shaking off any impending teariness.
“You make me weepy with my makeup done while I’m also out of that good waterproof mascara, and it’s your ass, just so y’know,” you chuckle, playfully nudging his shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am,” he folds, releasing you.
Before he can so much as blink, you’re pulling off your dress and tearing into your closet, flinging various garments onto your shared bed. He watches in amusement and occasionally picks up a piece of clothing to look at it.
“Gimme a color,” you huff, hands on your hips.
“What?”
“A color. To wear.”
“…ehm…pink,”
“Pink,” you snort, “Any particular reason, my love? Feelin’ romantic?”
“Something like that,” he says, sheepishly, beaming down.
After a few more moments of indecision, you land on a pale pink ruched, off-the-shoulder milkmaid style dress that you hadn’t worn since last spring.
A daring choice for dinner, but it was comfortable and hugged your curves in all of the right spots. Its skirt flared out just above your tummy in a way that didn’t make you feel self-conscious and instead put emphasis on your shape. Its hem ended just above your knees. You decided to pair it with your maroon Mary Janes and some white knee-high ribbed stockings. The whole outfit was darling, and you felt cute in it. Lion did make a mental note of you going braless.
In fact, for the entire dinner, his gaze remained fixed on your chest, his mind preoccupied with nothing else. He sat opposite you as you insisted on sitting next to your girlfriend Maya, while Lion, in turn, sat next to her fiancée Derek.
While your dress was by no means revealing or left little to the imagination, Lion was mesmerized by the way the fabric ghosted over your breasts. It sort of gave the illusion that they were larger and more pronounced. Full.
It made the end of his cock bob in his pants, dribbling into his boxers. Derek had to repeat himself multiple times, as you’d overheard. You catch Lion staring at one point,t and he flinches, looking elsewhere out of embarrassment. This causes you to giggle and take the short heel of your shoe, gliding it over the top of his sneaker flirtatiously.
It was not long after that that Lion hastily asked for the bill.
Lion fumbles with his keys more than usual as he attempts to unlock your shared apartment’s front door. You spectate with amusement, playing with one of the belt loops on his jeans.
“You’re cute when you’re anxious, y’know that?”
He looks over at you, eyelids fluttering like he needs to focus extra hard to process each one of your words. You wonder if he even heard you over the blood thumping in his ears, the bulge in his jeans not having waned in the slightest.
He manages to unlock it, propping it open for you as you slink in. You busy yourself with setting your purse down on the small table nearest to the door as Lion secures both the doorknob and doorchain. It's as if he wants to ensure not a single soul would be able to interfere with the two of you. Before you can even say a word, he’s on you. Groping, grasping all the softness your body has to offer.
“Easy, tiger!” you giggle, “Haven’t even gotten my shoes off,”
“Not a tiger…I’m your boy…I’m your Lion,” he mumbles, against the skin of your neck.
You take his face into both hands, his gentle, tealish eyes finding your own.
“Mmm… my Lion. That’s right, baby. You’re my Lion. My sweet, sweet boy. Aren’t you?”
He whimpers against your collarbone, hands supporting your lower back.
“Really think I’m pretty, Lion?”
He nods, trembling
“Prove it.”
“B-B-Baby, f-fuck, you’re takin’ it. You’re takin’ it so good. D-Didn’t think it-it’d—but y’did,” Lion babbles, cheeks flushed, “Fuck.”
His hair was matted with sweat while his Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp. His quivering fingertips were clinging onto the flesh of your hips for dear life as you bounced up and down on him ceaselessly. You being on top took some maneuvering due to his size, and there were many times when you had to tap out because it was just too uncomfortable.
This was not one of those times.
“I-I-It’s s-so deep, fuck. Fuck. Li, I mean it, I feel it in my chest, oh my god,” you sob, lip trembling.
You clutch at your bare tits that have been strewn about wildly with your reckless pace. Ever since you began riding him this time, you noted how his eyes had been tightly wound shut out of fear of finishing too quickly. It was typical when you were on top of him in any fashion—riding his cock, holding him when he was rather anxious, plucking his brows—for his eyes to take on a floaty, frantic appearance.
Like he couldn’t decide where to look first because you were just that gorgeous to him.
“Lookit me, Li,” you pant, “Look at me. I’m bouncing on it so good, aren’t I? Huh?”
Those nails grip your sides suddenly while his tongue darts out to swipe across his lips, mouth agape and breathy.
“Yes, baby. Yes, yes, yes, it’s so good,” he whines, eyes still closed.
“Oh, yeah? How come y’ain’t looking at me? Hm? Not pretty enough for my little kitty cat?” you tease.
In an instant, Lion’s eyes snap open to defy your claim, borderline insulted that you would say such a thing about yourself. Just when you think he couldn’t pry at you any harder, Lion takes over, ramming you down onto him repeatedly.
Tears prick your eyes at the pink scratches his short nails dig into your plush hips. The head of his dick bores deeper into you more and more, your cervix taking the brunt of his ruthless pace. The wet, sloppy noises of your cunt quickly gliding over his length overtake the room. It’s downright pornographic. You nearly feel betrayed by your pussy, the way it squelches and grips around him. The way it sings for him.
“So fuckin’ pretty, takin’ it like that. Say you’re so pretty takin’ this dick,” he grunts, “Go on, say it,”
“Mmngh, I-I’m s-so pretty…” you whimper into his neck, bracing your weight against him.
“No…,” he says in a low voice, correctively.
It's a warning tone you’ve never really heard his voice take on before. It makes you sigh high-pitched and pitifully into his ear out of embarrassment. Usually, he was the shy one.
“I-I’m s-so f-fuckin’ pretty, takin’ t-this dick,” you cry.
Several sharp brisk spanks hit your asscheek and you yelp.
“Yeah, you are! Yeah, you fuckin’ are!” he says through gritted teeth.
His pumps lose force more and more with every passing buck of his hips. That fighter’s stamina was something else, but Lion could hardly deny himself the release he’d wanted the second you nonchalantly climbed into his lap during the game. Your bedroom TV may as well have been muted with the creaking of the mattress and the ridiculous smacking of skin and your moans that have melted into his own, drowning it out.
“W-Where? Where, baby? Where d’you want it?” he groans.
“In here,” you lean back on him, pressing your palm over your lower stomach, “In here. Gimme it. Gimme a baby, Lion—”
Like a hairpin trigger, Lion stiffens as if the wind just got knocked out of him, his thrusts becoming more sparse and punctuated but deep. You take everything he gives you, biting your lip through the almost unbearable pressure being hammered into your core.
He clings to you like you’re going to fade away out of existence, weeping your name into your chest. You coax him back to a more relaxed state by stroking his hair and cooing in his ear. The aftershocks come, manifesting in the form of random, reflexive jolts of his hips. You suck and kiss his neck, smirking at the mess you’ve made of your favorite boy.
Perhaps Lion was more on board with this ‘having a baby idea’ than you’d thought.
End.
{thank you for reading!! now taking requests and ideas for future fics! check my fandom list in my pinned post for more info!}
sir lord jimmy crystal x fem!reader midsommar (movie) au
word count: 8,417
HAPPY MIDSUMMER EVERYONE! sooo @spikedfearn wrote a lovely midsommar au fic for jimmy and now i’m doing it too🤭 no but rosie you’re SUCH AN INSPIRATION for me i think under the blood moon was the whole reason i started writing🥹❤️ also i wanted to kinda follow the plot of the movie so sorry a24 for copying pls don’t sue mwah<3
synopsis: your boyfriend and his friends invite you to a rural commune in the scottish highlands for midsummer. once you arrive, their leader seems to take an immediate interest in you. between the festivities you start noticing strange things.. people disappearing, the feeling of being watched at night. once you realize what’s going on, is it already too late?
WARNINGS‼️: dead dove, noncon, cult dynamics, power imbalance, piv, oral on f, oral on m, vaginal fingering, breeding kink, forced marriage, forced orgasm, pregnancy, childbirth, lactation kink, painful sex, drugged sex, reader being unable to move during sex, watersports, gore, minor character death, period blood drinking, period sex, cum drinking, drug use
tags: @theabhartachsbride
song:
”a commune?” you chuckle at your boyfriend, christian. ”yeah, it’s this secluded community! snake here was raised there”, he says, pointing to his friend, who everyone calls snake.
”it’s an incredible place, you’d love it”, snake says with a genuine smile. ”and we’d be there for how long?” you ask, still a bit suspicious of the whole thing. ”about a month and half, if you end up hating it you can leave earlier”, snake says, smirking.
a commune, in the middle of nowhere. seems like something straight out of a horror movie, but hey, you love horror movies. and getting some romantic time with christian doesn’t seem bad, either. you two have been having a bit of a rough time lately. you’re not really sure whose fault is it, but you really don’t want to break up. you love him.
so it’s decided, you’re all going. you, christian, snake and two others. a couple, josh and mark. josh is doing his thesis on midsummer traditions, so that’s the main reason the group decided to leave. and of course snake, whose visiting his family.
you’re in bed with christian, the night before your trip. ”babe..” you coo, grabbing his arm. ”not now, baby”, christian sighs. ”it’s been a while..” you say, eyes wide. ”i know, i’m just stressed”, he says. ”fine”, you say, rolling onto your side.
it’s been two weeks since you’ve had sex. you’re really frustrated, since at the beginning of your relationship he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. it’s fine, maybe the scottish highlands would bring out his freaky side again.
the trip was exhausting, but you’re finally in a car, almost at your first destination. snake promised you some mushrooms before you arrive at the commune. you first arrive at a green field, with some tents and others visiting the commune. you meet another couple there, connie and simon.
”so like.. is this some sort of tradition?” josh asks. ”it’s just drugs, mate”, snake answers.
you all take the mushrooms and go lie down on the grass. you have no idea how much time has passed but you swear that the grass is growing on you.
”i don’t feel good”, mike whines. ”just relax”, snake says, his voice calming.
you close your eyes, and images of your dead sister immediately start flashing before your eyes. great, it’s that kind of trip. a lot of time has passed since her death, but it still haunts you. how you found her, vomit all over her face and neck. she was a drug addict, ironically. you never say no to drugs yourself but at least you’re not addicted.
the trip fades as the hours pass, soon you’re all tired and kind of nauseous.
then it’s time to go to the actual commune. you start hiking with your backpacks. the mountains are green, some highland cattle here and there. it’s beautiful. you feel like you can actually breathe.
your mouth drops wide open when seeing the commune.
wooden houses in the middle of the green fields, a huge maypole full of flowers, sheep and cows.
beautiful women in white dresses and flowers in their hair, men almost as beautiful and in white outfits as well.
and a fucking bear in a cage. ”is everyone gonna ignore the bear?” josh asks. ”it’s a bear”, snake chuckles.
”what do you think?” snake asks you. ”it’s beautiful”, you say.
”what’s that?” josh asks, pointing at a yellow, triangle building.
”that’s a temple, but no one’s allowed in”, snake says.
”snake, you fucker!” a young man approaches you, jumping in snake’s arms. ”fox, you little shit!” snake says, embracing the man.
”this is jimmy fox, everyone”, snake says.
jimmy fox. he’s wearing a white outfit like everyone else, with a little fox embroidered on his shirt.
”why are you all called jimmy?” josh asks. snake grins. ”it’s just a thing we have, we’re called the fingers. our leader is-”, he starts, but gets cut off.
”jimmy snake!” a voice calls. a man, walking towards you. he’s dressed in a white shirt and white pants, some strange-looking letters embroidered on the fabric.
he has blonde, shoulder-length hair. he wears a tiara, along with golden jewelry and rings on each finger. an upside down cross on his neck. he looks strange to say the least.
”sir!” snake says, smiling. he shakes the man’s hand. ”good tae see ye”, the man says. ”snake here has a good eye for people..” the man says. ”so.. who did ye bring?” he asks. his teeth are yellow, some of them black. it grosses you out.
jimmy snake introduces you all to the man, who seems to be the leader of the community. he has a strange smile on his face. kind, but unsettling somehow.
”this is sir lord jimmy crystal, our leader”, jimmy fox says. you see sir jimmy eyeing you, longer than anyone else in the group. his eyes are blue, piercing.
”call me jimmy”, sir jimmy says with a smile. he’s looking straight at you. you feel uneasy. ”we hope ye will enjoy the celebration”, he says. he has a thick, scottish accent like jimmy snake and jimmy fox.
”show our guests their sleeping arrangements!” sir jimmy says to snake and fox. they nod. ”come on!” snake says, leading you all to a wooden building. it’s absolutely massive. blue walls with paintings all around, many of them very sexual. beds without any privacy or walls, all out in the open.
”what if i wanna jerk off?” mike chuckles. ”with all these dicks on the wall…” josh points out. you chuckle and look at christian, but he’s too busy eyeing one of the commune girls outside the building. you frown.
you’re very hot, so you can’t believe how christian doesn’t seem to see that anymore. you always get hit on when you’re out, you would have men lined up if you broke up with christian. maybe he’s just bored of you. but you’re determined to bring the spark back between you two.
as you’re done unpacking it’s already time for dinner.
you all sit at a huge table, in a strange formation. you’re all standing, waiting for a permission to sit down.
sir jimmy is standing at the front. then you see two older people walking towards the table. they go stand next to jimmy, and as they sit down everyone else does. when they start eating, everyone else does.
the food is good, a lot of vegetables. you swear that sir jimmy is eyeing you, though. at some point he fucking winks at you. you don’t smile, don’t look him in the eye. he kind of freaks you out. there’s another one who’s eyeing people he shouldn’t be eyeing.. christian. he’s busy smiling at the same, red-haired girl he saw outside your sleeping place.
you try not to lash out at him, that would be embarrassing in front of everyone. you just gently take his hand, bringing his attention back to you. he smiles coldly, doesn’t kiss you.
”after dinner we’re gonna have a.. umm.. ceremony”, jimmy fox says. ”what kind of ceremony?” you ask. ”it’s for the elders, you’ll see”, fox says.
the elders suddenly stand up. the man starts making a strange, throaty sound while the woman starts talking in what you assume is old, scottish gaelic. she’s breathing loud in between words. as you’re looking at the woman you see sir jimmy staring right at you again.
then the elders leave, and everyone follows. ”where are we going?” christian asks. ”you’ll see”, snake says.
you follow the people to a high cliff. you don’t see the elders anywhere anymore.
sir jimmy is standing at the front with a wooden, large hammer. you have a bad feeling.
”what’s the hammer for?” mike asks. ”just watch”, fox says, he looks serious.
you gaze at the cliff, and let out a gasp as you see the old woman standing at the edge.
for a second there’s silence. then she jumps. her body crashes against a large stone, breaking her face into pieces.
you scream, so do connie and simon. ”what the fuck?” simon sobs. but it’s not over yet. you let out another gasp as you see the old man standing at the edge of the cliff.
he jumps. but he doesn’t die. his leg smashes into pieces, leaving him laying on the ground, breath coming in shaky.
sir jimmy goes to him with the hammer. he says something in scottish gaelic, then he smashes his head in. blood splatters everywhere.
you let out another scream, grabbing christian’s arm. he holds you this time. simon and connie leave, cursing. ”this is fucked up!” connie says, tears covering her cheeks.
a woman goes to connie and simon, trying to get them to stay. ”you don’t understand, the elders are happy to give their life like this!” she says. ”happy? happy? this is the most messed up thing i’ve ever seen, we’re leaving!” simon hisses, teary eyed.
”babe.. i think we should leave too”, you whisper to christian. ”let’s just take it easy”, christian says. ”the elders have reached the end of their life cycle, this way they won’t be a burden to the community”, snake explains. ”that’s horrible!” you whimper. ”it’s a long tradition”, snake says.
after the ceremony you start packing. you wouldn’t stay in this place for a second longer. as you’re packing you don’t notice sir jimmy coming in.
”leaving so soon, lass?” he asks you. ”oh! sir.. i didn’t-”, you start, but sir jimmy cuts you off. ”call me jimmy”, he says. ”jimmy”, you say. he smiles at you. ”i just- i can’t stay here anymore, i’m sorry”, you say.
”sit”, jimmy says. ”what?” you ask. ”sit down”, he repeats. he sits you down on the edge of the bed, taking your hand. ”i know it’s a lot for you”, he says gently. ”a lot? i don’t understand it at all”, you respond. ”we would appreciate if ye stayed”, jimmy says calmly. ”i-”, you start, but are cut off by christian entering the room.
”babe?” he says. ”christian”, jimmy says with a cold smile. ”we were just talking about ye staying”, he adds. ”yeah, we’re gonna stay, aren’t we, babe?” christian says. you freeze. why the fuck does he wants to stay? for the redhead? ”s-sure, we’ll stay”, you accept your defeat. ”wonderful!” jimmy says, clapping his hands together once. ”i’ll leave ye to it”, he says, releasing your hand, leaving the building.
”what the fuck was that?” christian asks you. ”what do you mean?” you ask. ”that fucking weirdo holding your hand!” christian hisses. ”i- i didn’t ask him to! he just-”, you say, tears begging to form in your eyes. ”what’s with you and that redhead?” you ask him. ”what redhead?” he asks, acting oblivious. ”oh come on, don’t play dumb”, you hiss. ”what? i can’t look?” he asks. ”i’d appreciate if you’d look at me sometimes”, you mumble.
christian sighs. ”come on babe.. you know i don’t mean it like that”, he says. you roll your eyes at him.
you’re forced to stop fighting as everyone else enters the room. outside you hear connie arguing with a man from the commune. ”what? he wouldn’t leave without me!” you hear her say. ”what’s that about?” you ask fox. ”simon left to the train station, they’re gonna pick up connie soon”, he says. ”why would he leave without her?” you ask. ”there wasn’t room in the truck”, fox explains. seems suspicious, but whatever. you’re too busy thinking about christian and that redhead.
as night falls you don’t see connie in the building, she must’ve left. without saying goodbye?
”babe.. i’m sorry”, you say to christian. ”it’s alright”, he answers. a simple ”i’m sorry too” would have been nice in your opinion.
”josh, do you have a sleeping pill for me?” you ask. ”sure”, josh says, handing you a pill. you feel uneasy, so you really want to sleep well.
but even after the pill you can’t sleep. images of the old people getting their heads smashed in keep appearing in your mind.
then you feel it, someone’s watching you. they’re at the door. you can’t see who it is, but you feel their presence. you try to squint, but there’s no one there. you sigh, whatever. maybe it’s your imagination.
you dream of your sister, of the elders. you see a car driving away, with everyone in it. you try to scream to take you with them, but your voice doesn’t come out. only smoke.
you wake up sweaty and crying, you had horrible nightmares all night. everyone else is already awake. ”babe, you alright?” christian asks. ”yeah… just nightmares”, you answer. he doesn’t take your hand, doesn’t kiss you. doesn’t even offer kind words. fuck, do you hate him?
at breakfast everyone is quiet. no more connie and simon. ”wait.. where’s mike?” you ask. ”he went with some girl earlier”, fox says with a grin. ”really? he’d tell me”, josh says with a frown. they have an open relationship. ”i’m sorry, bro”, christian says, tapping josh on the back. ”oh he’s gonna hear about this…” josh hisses.
you can’t explain it, but your drink tastes salty. and it’s thick somehow. ”babe, is your tea salty?” you ask christian. ”nope”, he says. you shrug. you bet the tea has some mushrooms in it, since you feel blurry all day.
you go help the commune women cook, everyone’s super nice to you. you meet a girl named jimmy ink. an older woman says something in scottish gaelic, smiling. ”she said you’re very beautiful”, ink says. ”thank you, she is too”, you say.
at noon you can’t find josh. ”you think he’s with mike and that girl?” you ask christian. christian shrugs. ”i wouldn’t be too worried”, he says.
you get your period. fuck. why now? you start wandering around the commune, searching for a place where you could find a tampon.
you bump into sir jimmy on your way. ”what are ye looking fer?” he asks. ”i- nothing”, you say. ”i think i know, come”, jimmy says. ”what?” you ask. ”come wi’ me”, jimmy says. ”i’m- i’m good”, you say. ”ye should listen tae me”, jimmy says, voice low. you’re kind of terrified of him, so you go along.
he brings you to a small cabin. on the table you see two glasses, must be that mushroom tea again.
”do you have tampons?” you ask jimmy, your cheeks warming up.
”ye won’t be needing those”, jimmy says. ”what?” you ask, confused.
”take this”, jimmy says, offering you the tea. ”i’m good.. i don’t want a bad trip”, you say. ”drink”, jimmy orders. you take the glass, bringing it to your lips. you gulp it down in one go. you taste salt again, and it’s thick. ”i’m gonna go, christian-”, you say, but jimmy cuts you off. ”aye, christian. that one hasn’t been looking at ye for a while”, he says. ”ye deserve someone that sees ye”, he whispers.
then he kisses you. you whimper and try pushing him off, but he grabs your head, holding you in place. his beard is scratching your skin. he moans into the kiss passionately, trying to force his tongue inside your mouth. you don’t let him.
”ye’re so pure, father told me ye would come”, jimmy says, pulling away from your lips.
”what- father? what are you-”, you gasp, wiping your mouth. he’s still holding onto you.
”father told me a young girl would come, pure as an angel”, he rambles. ”he promised ye tae me”, he whispers the last part.
”i’m not-”, you start, but jimmy cuts you off with another kiss. ”n-no”, you blurt out in between kisses. that’s when he shoves his tongue inside your mouth, dragging it against your teeth and gums, then against your tongue.
he’s moaning again, caressing your body. your hips, your ass, your belly. you shudder. that’s when you start crying, feeling blurry.
”oh no, my angel, donnae cry”, jimmy coos, gently kissing away your tears. his face is blurry, you can’t see his expression. you can only hear his voice, soft and gentle.
jimmy sits you down on the table, peeling off your jeans. you can’t see properly, you can’t move. your body feels numb. everything feels confusing, almost unreal. you almost don’t notice him pulling away your underwear, but as he starts twirling his fingers on your clit you snap back to reality.
”no!” you cry. ”shh, lamb”, jimmy coos. he takes the other glass and brings it down to your crotch. you cry as he gathers your period blood inside the glass, the color of the tea turning dark.
he brings it to his lips. ”ye drank something from me, now i drink something from ye”, he says. ”what do you mean?” you sob. he doesn’t answer, just drinks the whole thing. you gag at the sight.
”now let me drink it from ye”, he says, spreading your shaking legs. ”no, stop!” you whine. ”help!” you scream. ”christian!” you cry out. ”he won’t be helping ye anymore”, jimmy says, voice low.
he brings his mouth to your bloody cunt, licking a slow stripe. ”ye taste so sweet, like summer”, he purrs. then his mouth crashes onto your cunt. you cry as he feasts on you like he’s starving, tongue going everywhere it can.
he brings his lips to your clit and closes them around it, sucking with a lot of enthusiasm. he’s moaning, his lips and chin full of your fresh blood.
you just sob, your vision still foggy. ”what’s happening?”, you cry. ”i’m pleasuring ye, aren’t i?” jimmy purrs. ”ye’re shaking, my sweet wee lamb”, he adds. he’s right, your whole body is trembling, mostly your legs.
he keeps eating you like a starved man, moaning and groaning against your leaking cunt. you don’t register it, but you squirt on him. jimmy lets out a moan and drinks it all up, like you’re the fountain of youth.
he takes two, ringed fingers and shoves them inside your bloody cunt, keeping his mouth on your clit. you cry out, arching your back. he hooks his fingers inside you, pushing them deep.
”s-stop”, you sob. jimmy groans as a response and keeps eating you, fingers working inside your cunt, red with your blood.
you wish you could move, wish you could push him off you. but your body is completely frozen, if the trembling doesn’t count.
your vision starts coming back. you gaze between your legs, finding jimmy, mouth glued to your pussy. you sob at the sight, tears completely wetting your face, eyelashes sticking together.
”come fer me, my sweet lamb”, jimmy coos. you cry as your release is ripped from you, violent. you keep sobbing as jimmy wipes his bloody mouth and licks his fingers clean.
”we’ll wait fer the ceremony”, he says, standing up, giving you a kiss on the forehead.
”what ceremony?” you cry. ”i think ye know”, jimmy says, kissing you again. ”my sweet lamb”, he coos, taking you into his arms. you try to squirm, but your body is still numb. ”shh, ye’re home now”, jimmy purrs.
he suddenly scoops you up, carrying you to another cabin. not yours. he lays you down on a bed, kissing your forehead again. ”ye’ll bleed freely”, he says. ”where’s christian?” you sob. ”donnae worry about him”, jimmy says.
he leaves the room, and some women enter. they wipe your bloody thighs and cunt, bring you water and give you a wet towel on your forehead.
you start sobbing again. to your surprise the women start mimicking your cries, sobbing with you. one even sheds tears. it feels weirdly comforting. it’s like they know how much you’re hurting. this goes on for multiple minutes, your cries filling the cabin.
after the women leave you’re left alone, naked, bleeding and crying. after a while you fall asleep. you have a nightmare about jimmy raping you, about him making you eat his cum. you can taste the salt even in your dream.
you wake up to the feeling of needing to pee. you try standing up, but can’t. what was in the water they gave you? your bladder is about to fucking burst.
the bed is soaked with your blood, your thighs are stained with it.
”help!” you sob. the door opens, it’s jimmy. the last person you want to see. ”go away!” you hiss. ”ye called fer me”, he says, sitting next to you on the bed. ”my wee, bleeding angel”, he says, petting your head.
”can you- can you please get someone to bring me to the bathroom?” you ask, swallowing your shame.
jimmy smiles and brings his hand on your lower stomach, where your bladder is. ”go ahead”, he says. ”or d’ye need tae shit as well?” he asks, almost hopeful. you shake your head with teary eyes. ”please..” you sob.
”shh, angel”, jimmy purrs, starting to press on your bladder. ”stop!” you sob. but he just keeps going. he climbs on the bed, putting his head between your thighs.
you feel like your bladder is about to explode, but you keep holding it in.
jimmy hums, pleased and shoves two fingers inside you, pressing harder on your bladder. you cry out.
that’s when it happens. you start peeing on jimmy’s face and fingers. jimmy lets out a moan and opens his mouth, starting to drink your piss.
you gag at the thought alone.
he puts his mouth on your cunt, drinking straight from the source. he’s gulping it down, moaning like it’s the most delicious juice.
the bed is soaked, so are your thighs. jimmy is drenched as well, his mouth, chin, neck and chest are wet from your piss.
you start bawling as you finish peeing, feeling humiliated. jimmy’s fingers are still inside you. he slowly withdraws them, popping them inside his mouth.
”ye taste so sweet, my angel”, jimmy coos. you keep sobbing loud, vision blurry from all the tears.
”shh, shh, wee lamb, no need tae cry, ye’re wi’ yer future husband now”, he purrs.
”future husband? no way!” you cry. ”aye, it’s true. it’s decided, ye’re tae me my wife, my wee broodmare”, he rambles. ”ye’ll give birth tae my sons and daughters”, he adds. then he forces a wet kiss on your lips.
mwah
you taste your own piss and period blood on his lips, you gag.
you keep crying as jimmy starts kissing away your tears, lips smacking grossly on your skin. ”stop, please stop!” you sob. jimmy chuckles, kissing your nose. ”ye’re gonna have tae get used tae my kisses, angel”, he says.
”c’mon, open yer mouth”, jimmy purrs, coaxing your chin. you spit on his face. he chuckles, bringing your spit to his lips. "no kisses fer ye?" he asks. you shake your head. "too bad", he says, forcing your mouth open, locking lips with you again. his tongue pushes in immediately as he starts sloppily making out with you.
you whimper and try to squirm, but he’s holding you in place. you try turning your head, but he follows every time, not letting you part your lips from his.
he climbs on top of you, continuing kissing you with loud smacks, making you shudder.
"how i wish i could fuck ye now, i bet ye’d feel so nice and warm fer me", jimmy coos against your lips. you can feel his clothed boner pressing against your cunt.
"my wee angel, my baby, i can already see ye pregnant, father told me ye’ll bring me many children", he rambles. "ye’re so young, still so fertile, poor baby, must be tough being locked away wi’ an old man like me", he continues tormenting you. "but ye’ll get used tae it, learn tae love me, like i love ye", he whispers the last part.
"that’s not love! you don’t know me!" you sob. "i know ye, angel", jimmy says. "know how ye’re stuck wi’ grief, ye need someone tae take care of ye", he adds. "i have christian, i love him!" you cry. "no ye don’t", jimmy says, his eyes darkening.
"i could kiss ye fer hours", jimmy purrs, squeezing your cheeks together, giving you yet another wet kiss. "rest now, angel, soon ye’ll participate in the competition", he says. "what competition?" you ask. "where we choose our may queen", jimmy says with a gentle smile. "i don’t wanna, i wanna go home!" you cry. "shh, ye are home", jimmy coos.
he leaves you alone, for now.
hours pass. women come in, cleaning you up, changing the piss and blood stained sheets. despite your protest you’re given a white dress and a flower crown. "come!" one of the women says, taking your hand.
you’re taken to the maypole, where every young woman of the community is already waiting. you’re given more tea, one of the women has to nearly force it down your throat.
then you see christian. "baby!" you yell. "i know what you fucking did!" he yells back at you. you freeze. what?
"ignore him", one of the women says. she’s blonde, blue eyed. she has blue details on her dress. "i’m jimmima", she says. then she embraces you. "it’s starting soon", she says with a smile.
you look at your feet, and see grass growing on them. you’re not sure where you are and why.
an older woman starts speaking in scottish gaelic, then the music starts. everyone starts going around the maypole, you with them. you have a feeling you can’t stop.
your vision is blurry, you try to take peeks at christian, but he’s gone. you feel tears forming in your eyes again. but you can’t stop, you won’t stop.
the music suddenly stops, some girls are already on the ground. the woman says something again. jimmina looks at you with a smirk. when the music starts this time, everyone changes direction. you feel nauseous, like you could actually throw up. your legs are burning already.
but you keep dancing, going around the maypole. when the music stops this time, you’re left with seven other girls. "we’re only eight!" jimmima squeals in joy. you smile at her.
when you start dancing again you can hear the other girls talking to each other in scottish gaelic, but you can suddenly understand them.
"wait, i can understand you!" you say, in perfect scottish gaelic.
"of course ye can, ye’re home!" jimmima says.
when the music stops for the last time you don’t register your surroundings. you don’t notice how all the other girls are on the ground.
"we have our may queen!" the old woman screams in scottish gaelic.
everyone runs to you. jimmima kisses your cheek, embracing you. the women all touch you in some way. your shoulder, your hand. the men smile and congratulate you.
then you see her. your sister. she walks past you. "jenny!" you cry out, but she’s gone in the crowd.
you’re surrounded by crazy people, you understand that much. you had to find a way out of there, you and christian could still escape.
then he’s there. sir jimmy. you frown and try to make a run for it, but he grabs you. "my queen!" he says and kisses you, long and passionate. "i need to see christian!" you say. "ye’ll see him soon", jimmy says, kissing your cheek.
that’s when you make a run for it. you push jimmy out the way and start running like crazy, not really knowing where you’re going. you see a small cabin and decide to hide.
you open the door, but are shocked to see what’s inside. it’s simon, hanging from the ceiling by his back, ripped open. his eyes have flowers on them. a blood eagle.
you scream and run out the cabin, bumping into jimmy. "get away from me!" you scream. but jimmy blows something on your face, blurring all your senses. suddenly you can’t remember where you are.
you’re brought to a carriage, forced inside. some women start carrying you towards a field with cows.
you don’t realize what’s happening at all, but suddenly you’re outside again. jimmima is suddenly holding your hand, making you repeat some scottish gaelic words. it seems like you’re blessing something.
after that you’re brought to the dinner table, forced to drink more mushroom tea.
"eat this, it’s good luck", jimmy ink says, trying to force a raw fish down your throat. you gag and spit it out immediately, and everyone starts laughing, like it’s the best fucking joke ever.
you don’t see christian anywhere.
time starts passing by in a weird way, you’re dragged from one place to another, without you knowing what’s happening. you’re drowned in flowers, a huge dress covered in them. you’re wearing a different flower crown now, a bigger one.
soon you’re brought to yet another cabin, a white room. jimmima and jimmy ink are with you. ”we must get ye ready”, jimmima says. ”for what?” you ask. ”fer yer ceremony, silly!” jimmima chuckles. they undress you from the flower dress and start washing you, rubbing you with wet cloths. they wipe your bloody cunt, you don’t resist them. you’re too out of it.
they put you in a white, long dress. jimmy ink puts some flowers in your hair. ”what a beautiful bride”, jimmima says with a smile. ”bride… what?” you start panicking. ”oh, don’t worry, sir will treat ye so good”, jimmima says. ”right, ink?” she asks. ”sure”, ink says coldly. she doesn’t seem too convincing.
they walk you to the maypole again, where everyone is waiting. sir jimmy is standing there with an older woman. the same woman that tried convincing simon and connie to stay. simon…
you don’t have time to start spiraling before ink and jimmima plant you next to jimmy.
the woman starts speaking in scottish gaelic, you can’t understand anymore.
she takes you and jimmy’s hands, wrapping them together with a red ribbon. you immediately try slapping his hand away, but he grabs your wrist, squeezing painfully.
she says something in scottish gaelic, looking at jimmy.
”aye”, jimmy says.
”do you take this man?” the woman suddenly asks you.
”what… no! not in a million years!” you whine.
”that’s alright”, the woman says, looking at jimmy. ”we will go ahead with the ceremony”, she says.
”no, no! i didn’t say yes!” you cry. ”i want christian!” you start bawling. ”ye’ll see him”, jimmy says coldly.
the woman takes a silver cup and gives it to jimmy. he drinks from it, then he hands it to you. you don’t take it. ”donnae be difficult”, jimmy says. when you don’t drink he forces the liquid down your throat. you gag, whisky.
then he grabs you and forces a kiss on your lips. not a normal kiss. hungry, claiming. he’s swallowing your cries, lips glued hard on yours. everyone cheers, jimmima definitely the loudest. jimmy ink doesn’t make a sound.
the kiss lasts forever in your opinion. when he finally pulls away it with a loud smack and a line of drool connecting your mouths.
you start getting really angry, so you try to run off. you would not stay here. that’s when jimmy takes something out of his pocket and blows it on your face again. your vision immediately blurs.
you wake up, sitting on a wooden wheelchair. you can’t move your legs. you can barely talk.
you’re brought in front of a temple, the yellow one where no one was allowed.
there’s a dead bear on a table. the bear you saw when you first arrived. you hear screaming. it’s christian. you look, and see him being dragged by two fingers towards the table.
"babe! help me!" he yells. you can’t do other than cry, suddenly noticing your voice coming back. "c-christian!" you screech, your throat dry. you can’t move.
the other finger knocks christian out. you let out a desperate scream. the thing you see next is so horrifying you wish you could gauge your eyes out.
christian, unconscious is forced inside the gutted bear. you scream and cry, trying to get your legs to move.
then, to your horror you see all the others, being pushed in wheelchairs. no limbs, tree branches on where their limbs would be. stomachs open, fruits instead of guts.
you’re sure that this is some nightmare, had to be. a bad trip.
but as sir jimmy stands next to you, putting his hand on your shoulder you’re brought back to reality. "donnae cry, lamb, it’s all tradition", he coos.
they’re all brought to the yellow temple. you can hear christian waking up, starting to scream.
the temple is then lit on fire. you can hear christians screams. you just bawl, devastated.
everyone else starts screaming, mimicking christian. for a while all you can hear is screaming.
the temple burns, the screams fade. and you’re still crying, mourning your asshole boyfriend.
"time fer the ceremony", jimmy says, starting to push you towards a dark cabin.
"no, no, please no!" you sob, already guessing what’s awaiting you.
you’re brought to a white room, the walls covered in strange, erotic paintings. there’s a man, fabric covering his face. he opens a pot, bringing it to your face. there’s smoke coming out.
"breathe in", he says. you try to hold in your breath, but the smoke covering your face makes you want to cough. and so you breathe it in.
women come in the room. they undress you, leaving you naked, trying to crawl out the door. your legs don’t work. you see jimmima. "don’t fight it", she says.
jimmy scoops you up, starting to carry you towards an ominous-looking door. "no, no, no, no..." you keep repeating, tears completely wetting your cheeks.
there’s no bed, no furniture. just flowers.
jimmy gently lays you down on the floor, so you’re surrounded by flowers. the wooden floor feels hard against your back.
he starts removing his own clothing. soon it all drops on the floor, and you see his cock. it’s fucking massive, hard as hell, oozing precum. the thought alone makes him like that.
someone closes the door, you’re left alone with him. "no, no, no, no... please stop", you sob, desperately moving your head, the only thing in your body that you can move.
"shh, wee lamb, lemme fill ye up", jimmy coos, kissing your teary cheek. "i’ll do anything, just please let me leave!" you beg. "ye aren’t leaving, ever", jimmy says. "ye’re gonna die in this place, wi me", he says.
you keep sobbing as jimmy kisses you, soft and gentle. you bite his lip, the only way you can keep fighting him. jimmy lets out a huff and pulls away, licking the blood off his lip. "feisty wee lamb", he chuckles.
he kisses you again, so you bite him again. he doesn’t pull away this time, just grunts and keeps kissing you. so you try biting him again, harder. you taste his blood.
he pulls away, looking at you with a frown. "i’m a patient man, angel", he says. "but if ye keep testing me i’ll have tae knock ye out", he says. "do it", you say. surely being raped by him and not knowing it would be better than feeling it.
jimmy grits his teeth in annoyance. "ye’re impossible.." he says. "see, i donnae wanna do that. i could break yer legs, would ye want that?" he asks.
you freeze. "that’s what i thought", jimmy says with a grin. "now be a good lamb and let me kiss ye", he says, leaning in, puckering his lips.
you accept your defeat. jimmy keeps eagerly kissing you while softly teasing your clit. even though you can’t feel your legs, you can feel every single twitch of his finger on your cunt.
"they say getting the woman aroused helps wi’ the breeding", jimmy says, like he’s discussing the weather. like raping you is the most natural thing in the world.
jimmy spits on his fingers and brings them back on your clit, rubbing soft circles. you let out an involuntary moan. jimmy smiles and gives you a loving kiss. like he’s your fucking husband. wait... is he?
"my beautiful wife", he coos, rubbing his thumb on your clit.
and then it comes back to you. the wedding, christian. so you start bawling loud. "no, no, no, no.. christian", you sob. jimmy lets out an annoyed huff. "donnae speak his name during our moment", he hisses. "ye’re my wife now, ye’re not his anymore. he’s ashes", he torments you.
he’s seemingly upset that you’re crying so loud, but he keeps teasing your clit, making your legs shake involuntarily.
"ye’re gonna come fer me", he says, like it’s an order. you shake your head, sobbing loud. but you can’t ignore the burning feeling between your legs.
it’s like he knows exactly how to touch you. nothing like christian. he’s driving your body insane, and you hate it so much. hate how your legs shake, how your body twitches even though you can’t move by yourself.
you squirt hard on his fingers then. so you cry louder, humiliated. "stop crying", jimmy says, clearly upset. he doesn’t like the fact that you’re not enjoying this. sure, he can still get off. but he’d prefer if you were into it, into him.
"i want ye docile, i want ye tae kiss me, tae touch me", he says. "fuck you", you spit through your tears. jimmy grunts and slaps your clit, hard. you whimper. then he goes back to rubbing it, like he’s forcing it out of you. and he is.
one more twitch of his thumb and you come, hard, legs shaking uncontrollably. "there she is", jimmy purrs, satisfied.
then he lines up, rubbing the thick head of his cock on your cunt. "no, please, i don’t wanna.. please no", you sob, trying to appeal to his soft side.
but he doesn’t budge, just starts pushing inside. you whimper as the tip enters, way too big to fit properly. he surely was not going to put it in all the way, right?
but he keeps shoving himself inside you by force, brutally splitting you open. you actually scream a bit from pain as he bottoms out.
"shh.. baby", jimmy coos. he sets a brutal pace, slamming inside you hard and fast. it’s like he’s punishing you for crying. his cock is red from your blood.
"stop, it hurts!" you bawl. jimmy ignores you. "at least go slower!" you whine. he ignores you again, like he’s angry at you.
his hips are slamming against yours, his balls hitting your ass as he fucks into you like he wants to break you from the inside.
"ye shoulda been a good wee lamb, maybe then i would’ve been gentle.." he grunts.
"i’ll be good, please, go slower!" you cry. "too late", jimmy says.
jimmy starts moaning and shaking on top of you. his cock hits your g-spot again and again, mixing the intense pain with pleasure.
he wasn’t lying when he talked about filling you up. he really is filling you up, uncomfortably so.
you start dissociating, only feeling pain. throbbing, stinging pain. you stare at the ceiling, flowers painted on it. in the middle of the flowers, a naked man and a woman in an embrace. they look happy, like lovers, unlike you. this was not love. this was something sinister, something cursed. something you hear in stories, where a prince comes to save the princess from the devil. but no one is coming to save you, no one knows where you are.
”look at me”, jimmy’s voice brings you back. you squeeze your eyes shut. he forces them open, plants more kisses on your cheeks. like you’re making love.
he starts going rougher, faster, almost clumsy. he’s close. ”ye were made tae be bred”, he says. ”made fer me, my wife, my soul”, he rambles, planting another kiss on your lips.
he’s panting hard. he leans in, moaning in your ear. you feel even more violated somehow.
”yes- fuck yes- my angel”, he moans, softly nibbling on your ear.
then he says something you don’t understand. ”a thasgaidh”, he whispers.
a few more thrusts and he comes, shaking and moaning your name. his cock is buried deep inside you, his warm cum pouring inside your cunt. he comes a lot.
you cry as he pulls out. cry as he forces you to put your legs up, so that you will surely get pregnant. you’re still bleeding, the floor under you is bloody.
”i’ll be fucking ye every morning, afternoon and night from now on”, jimmy says. ”even more than that”, he adds. ”so ye better get used tae it, ye must at least pretend tae enjoy it”, he orders you.
”i won’t”, you sob. ”never”, you add. jimmy looks at you, almost with pity. it’s like he doesn’t want to hurt you, yet he still did it. and will keep doing it. until you break.
he kisses your forehead. for a while there’s just you and him, your new husband. then the door opens.
you spend all night crying. the women cry with you, jimmima and jimmy ink with them. you’re in your new home, a white cabin in the middle of the commune. painted walls, a large bed. that’s where you’ll spend your life with jimmy.
you try to escape, once, twice. so they tie you to the bed. they keep you naked, so that you’re ready for jimmy.
and when he comes in again you bawl, beg, scream, thrash. he holds you down and fucks you soft, gentle this time. cooing, kissing away your tears. telling you how much he loves you, rambling something in his language. like you’re his whole world.
you wake up with a throbbing pain between your legs. jimmy’s next to you, snoring. you try to wiggle of the restraints, but it’s impossible.
you imagine your life here. as jimmy’s wife, more like his prisoner. is every day going to be just him raping you? you start crying so loud you wake up jimmy.
”my poor wee lamb, crying first thing in the morning?” he purrs, giving you a kiss on the cheek. that makes you cry harder.
”ye must keep quiet, yer bawling will wake everyone up”, he says.
when you don’t stop he climbs on top of your face, pulling down his pants, revealing his hard cock.
”can’t cry wi’ yer mouth full, can ye?” he says with a smirk.
”d-don’t-”, you start, but jimmy’s quick, shoving his cock deep down your throat in one go.
you gag, spit and bile bursting out of your mouth. he starts mouthfucking you, brutally slamming inside your throat.
his balls slam against your chin, wet smacks and your gagging filling the room.
you grind his cock with your teeth, planning on biting. ”if ye bite i’ll really break yer legs, make ye bedbound”, jimmy hisses.
he starts going faster, moaning your name. you hate hearing him say it, it sounds wrong.
he grabs your head and starts moving you, slamming inside your throat even harder. you feel like you need to vomit, but it never comes up. you don’t remember the last time you ate.
his cock tastes like salt on your tongue, precum already oozing out the tip. you have no choice but to swallow, he’s suffocating you.
”that’s it, my good girl”, jimmy moans, getting closer to his release.
then he stops, coming inside your mouth with a loud moan. you can feel his cum pouring straight down your throat. so you start gulping it down.
when he pulls out you’re still crying, your mouth covered in snot, bile and drool.
jimmy starts licking the filth off you, his tongue even going to your nose. you shudder.
”ye did so good”, he praises you. ”i’ll be fucking ye after breakfast”, he says. ”make sure ye’re properly bred”, he adds.
you notice the bump one morning as you stare in the mirror. you’ve been losing weight, so it’s noticeable. you start crying immediately. yeah, you’ve been vomiting and your period didn’t come, but you didn’t want to believe it. not until now.
jimmy is over the moon. he knew you were pregnant, but now he has proof. he drags you around the commune, or what you now call the cult, showing your belly to everyone. everyone is overjoyed, expect for ink. she seems to feel sorry for you. ink is always going somewhere, to the city. you wish she’d take you with her.
jimmy can’t stop kissing on your belly, trying to listen and feel kicks. of course, it would be a while until that would happen.
he spends hours just giving your belly kisses, stroking your thighs, eating you out. that’s how you spend most your days, in bed with jimmy.
he doesn’t let you even work in the garden anymore. most you can do is kitchen work, sitting down. he watches over you at all times, not leaving you out of his sight.
and no one else touches you but him. not even a hug. you crave for human connection, for something real. you still cry every time jimmy touches you.
you have fantasies of burning the whole place down, of sinking a knife in jimmys chest. fantasies of christian coming to rescue you. but he’s dead.
you start producing early milk at week 18. jimmy is overjoyed, eagerly suckling on your milk every time he has the chance.
he massages your nipples to get the milk to come out and latches on like a baby, moaning and purring like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
”nothing sweeter than a young mother’s milk”, he coos.
he treats you like you’re sacred, his touch always gentle and loving. now that you’re pregnant he sees you as easily breakable.
he loves fucking you in doggy, your swollen belly bouncing from him slamming inside you. and he fucks you every morning, afternoon and night or more, exactly like he said he would. every single day.
your water breaks as you’re cutting carrots in the kitchen. you had begged jimmy to let you do some cooking.
you’re quickly rushed to a temple, made for giving birth. you’re surrounded by flowers again.
jimmy holds your hand, kissing your cheeks and encouraging you.
you scream and cry, cursing at everyone around you. you curse at the cult, insulting everything they do. and you tell jimmy how much you despise him.
”baby, ye’re doing so good-”, he starts, but you cut him off.
”fuck you! i fucking hate you, i hope you die!” you curse at him.
no one gets upset. the women mimic your cries as you push out the baby, blood gushing out on the floor.
the baby pops out surprisingly easy, even though it feels like you’re ripping in half.
jimmy cuts the umbilical cord, taking the baby in his arms. you can hear it crying.
”it’s a babygirl”, jimmy says, overjoyed.
oh no. a girl? you really had hoped for a boy. you hate the idea of raising a girl in this fucked up environment. but maybe she wouldn’t be a prisoner, like you. maybe she could go out into the world, like jimmy snake did.
you cry as jimmy hands you the baby. for a moment you despise her, you have a thought about choking her to death. but then she starts searching for your breast, fussing and wiggling like a little worm.
”don’t worry, i’ll make sure you’ll be free”, you whisper.
everyone takes care of the baby, you don’t get much alone time with her, only when you’re breastfeeding.
jimmy keeps drinking your milk, praising you for how sweet you taste. you spend more time with him than your baby, who jimmy named isla.
jimmy gets his sexual satisfaction from sucking on your milk or fucking your mouth, since the elders advised to wait at least four weeks, even more before having sex again. he fucked your ass a couple of times, but you cried so loud he didn’t want to keep doing it, afraid that you’d get hurt.
the days go by in a haze. you in bed, jimmy giving you kisses, praising the new mother. you and jimmy with isla, her grabbing your finger, looking at you with blue eyes, jimmy’s eyes. you hate that she has his eyes.
you’re pregnant again in no time, jimmy says that’s how you were meant to be. he adores your milk, the way your belly and breasts get swollen. he loves seeing you pregnant, it turns him on.
you hope for a boy this time. for someone who won’t suffer the same fate as you.
one night, like all the others you’re in bed with jimmy. isla is asleep in her bed in the other room. she’s surprisingly independent.
jimmy’s kissing on your swollen belly, stroking his cock. then he leans in, pulling your dress to the side, exposing your breasts.
”ye’re gonna beg fer me tae stop again, ye’re gonna cry?” jimmy asks.
you say nothing, staring at the window. you can see the moonlight.
”good”, jimmy says. ”ye’re getting better”, he adds.
he starts rubbing your nipples between his fingers, until your milk starts pouring out. he latches on, sucking on your nipple, gulping down your milk.
you let out a small whimper, which seems to arouse jimmy even more.
”good girl, sing fer me”, he mumbles, mouth full. ”father promised me a boy this time”, he says, looking at you lovingly. ”he’ll be strong, like ye”, he says.
as jimmy pins you down on the bed and starts lining up, you start thinking about christian. the very beginning of your relationship. he was so gentle with you, so loving.
you can’t stop the tears this time. jimmy frowns. ”oh?” he sighs. ”that’s alright, cry all ye want, sweet wife, but donnae wake up isla”, he says.
you cry quiet and soft. every thrust hurts, every slam of his hips makes you whimper. you’re reminded that this is your life now. forever. soon it will be you on that cliff, with some poor girl watching.
and that poor girl will be forced to marry your son, and so the cycle will continue.
you have nightmares that night, terrible ones.
and when you wake up, jimmy’s there, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. your tears don’t stop, you’re afraid they’ll never stop.
your boyfriend and his friends invite you to a rural commune in the scottish highlands for midsummer. once you arrive, their leader seems to take an immediate interest in you. between the festivities you start noticing strange things.. people disappearing, the feeling of being watched at night. once you realize what’s going on, is it already too late?
Greetings to all the team behind JOC Library! This is my latest and final submission to my fanfic “Sharp Daggers”, the previous parts you were so kind to share on this blog too! A thousand thanks to your support.
Remmick x Witch! Reader
Summary. A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they’ve been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
Summary. A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they've been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
Tags. Vampire x Witch Pairing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst-Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut. Warnings. Violence and blood, mentions of murder and mutilation, explicit sexual content.
Notes. I'M BACKK, it took me almost a month to finish this. To be fair, most of this chapter was ready around the time I posted the previous one, I just suck writing smut (I'm a begginer, as you probably already noticed). Anyways, thank you so much for following this silly story, means a lot!
Chapter 3/3 AO3 Previous
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
CHAPTER 3. A CHUISLE MO CHROÍ / PULSE OF MY HEART
Remmick kept his word and visited you the very next evening. Then the next one, and the next. A whole season passed with him getting closer and closer, earning your trust again. Not that you were keeping it from him, you were determined to never push him away again. In exchange, he limited himself to drinking from animals, unless the prey was a Klan member or a damned pervert. Two exceptions he was perfectly willing to make.
Meanwhile, you searched in visions and dreams for the answer to Remmick’s longing: to reconnect with his ancestors. The ritual was simple: you sang the words he told you to, and both entered in a trance. Images of hills, stones and rain played in your head. Somewhere in there, he was visiting the places of his human life. You brought him there, to a time that does not exist anymore.
Remmick refused to talk about it in detail after the session was finished. You allowed him that silence, you could tell how painful it was for him. All you wished to do after that was to hold him and, by God, it was mutual.
Whenever autumn arrives your lifestyle begins to slow down, and this year was no exception. There was a necessity of warmth that Remmick desired to fulfill. You started to share your bed on the colder nights, on those occasions he would feed on a rabbit and let you cook the rest for you.
He would hug you and touch you so delicately, he was tender and soft. Sometimes you would rest on his chest hearing his heartbeat synchronize with yours. On other times, it was so agitated, especially when you would massage his shoulders or hug him from behind. None of you acknowledged what you were doing, and at the same time, neither could stop from doing it.
But this domesticity hid in its innocence a whirlwind of desires and doubts. Remmick convinced himself that you didn’t long for him the way he did for you. Most of the time that was fine by him, he found it was enough to have you as a friend, to have your touch. After all, no other man saw you the way he did. No one else held you through the cold of night.
But there were times like tonight in which you saw him a second too much or touched him far too good, that made it impossible for him to stay. To stop from imagining things could mean something else, he’d just leave.“Goodnight, honey” he would say and he’d return until the very next sunset. You never asked him what was the matter, but tonight would be different. You couldn’t stand the tension, and it worried you that something else could be happening.
Tonight, the visions felt more intimate, since the beginning you could tell Remmick was expectant. At first, familiar images passed in your mind: his family, nature and his home. But then another face of the Irish countryside manifested. And… you were there.
The hills raised above, you ran laughing and Remmick was about to catch you. It was the memory of a wish, a longing. You could recognize it, but it wasn't precisely yours…
Remmick held you and you had nowhere to run to, not that you were looking to escape. You touch his face tenderly in the dream, and he’s getting closer to your mouth. That’s when you notice you’re wearing his clothes “My sweet witch” and he finally kisses you tenderly.
Remmick breaks the spell back in the real world, gets up from the bed and practically runs.
“You were not supposed to see that…”
“Rem… please don’t leave” you begged, catching him by his hand.
He turned from the threshold of your door.
“That was embarrassing, I can’t stay a moment longer.”
“Have I hurt you? Have I done something wrong?”
“What?” He laughed.
“I’m serious, what's wrong? Is there something wrong with me?”
“Do you think I'm leaving because of you?”
“Yes, Rem… please, don’t” You couldn't believe how emotional you were getting, it was painful that he seemed so offended by the idea of wanting you. Unless…
“There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s me. I'm just… so ashamed, goddamn”
“Does it bring you shame to think of us together like that?… ”
“What? That’s not what I meant. Stop… You’re by far the best woman I know- No, the best human being I’ve ever encountered. And I… I just can’t let myself hope that you-” would not want the same?
“Why would you leave? Stay, please”
“Look, dove, there are… necessities that I don’t wish to share. You really were not supposed to see that…”
“Is there someone else?”
“What?”
“I know there’s a woman, I just… I’m sorry”
“A woman?” he's laughing with the sound that you have loved since the first time you met him. “Darling, you’re the only one for me…”
“Remmick! Don’t mock me, answer me” he looked at you with tenderness but also surprised by this display of jealousy.
“I’m being honest… and I'm serious” You could swear his cheeks started to blush. “You’re the woman I…” he rubbed his neck and looked at the floor. “...I appreciate the most”.
“Oh… Hm, Then… the feeling is mutual, Remmick”
You should feel grateful for him to consider you his closest friend, yet you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment. Like you wished he said something more… Before you could say anything else he turned away and conjured:
“There’s no one else, I promise you”
Leaving you all alone, thinking of you both running free in the land of his youth.
Damn you for your insecurities, your jealousy, but mostly, because you brought those questions up. Remmick stopped visiting for a couple of days and now that he’s back, things feel uneasy, uncomfortable. You prayed it was only you, but you could tell he walked around you with extra care. As if he was afraid of upsetting you.
You hated the feeling. Feeling like your peace was at the mercy of a man, worried about becoming this insecure needy being. But was it really being needy? Or were you only judgemental to a perfectly natural human desire? The desire of being loved by the object of one’s affections.
Maybe what you needed was a confession, but it brought you great anxiety to even consider asking him questions about the state of his heart. If you only knew that deep down the swamp laid a heartbroken Remmick, dreaming of your touch once more.
Usually he starts caressing his chest, imagining it was you, he wonders if you'd enjoy touching him, if his body could inspire desire in you. At first, he tried to find release quickly, but his rituals became extensive soon enough. He would undress and lay over his back somewhere deep in the woods of the swamp, all alone. He would think of your body barely covered by a thin fabric -a dress or a bed sheet-, imagining the color of your nipples, your pubes looming over the cover. His heart rate accelerates by this point.
Remmick imagines you straddle over him, whispering into his ear, and this gets him so hard. Thinks of your sweet voice calling him petnames, praising his body and his devotion for you. He starts to elevate, and so the stroking begins. First, from the base to the tip, then slaps it against his belly. Imagines that you're satisfied with his length and width. He’d open you fully if you allowed him to.
His strokes only gets him so far, rapidly his moans and begs fill the air, but there’s no one that would listen to him. He’ll be so good to you, if you ask him to. He can be rough too, if you like it better. He longs to become the type of lover that you'd crave for all the time. He’ll be anything you wish for.
Lately, what gets him off is thinking that you use him. You ride his face and he uses his tongue to conjure your yells and curses, his strokes become faster and more erratic. You move your hips deliciously and he gets his face covered in your honey. Not much time passes when he’s already spilling his seed. Such a waste. He’s ready to beg that you allow him to pour it inside of you.
After he’s all done and his cleaning needs become more pressing, he wonders what crosses your mind while touching yourself. He only hopes you think of him, it would break his heart if your fantasies involved anyone else. He doesn’t own you, but oh gods, the things he would do to change that.
Since you both became friends again, he’s masturbating more frequently. At the beginning it was only a couple of times each week, but after the vision of you together in the land of his youth, he’s been fantasizing about domestic scenarios that always end up in sex. So, daily. He’s been finding release even a couple of times per session. He can feel the animalistic side of his desire take a hold of him even when he’s with you at your home.
If you ever get on your knees, or say, if you drop something and bend down to pick it up, if you get too close to him while taking a nap, if you hug him whenever you feel sensitive and need comfort, he would lose his mind. He imagines he’s your man, and you desire him too, and that gets him so heated. He doesn’t know how much he can last like this.
Weeks passed once more, and autumn gave in to winter. It wasn't particularly cold as other places, but you both decided it was for the best if Remmick stayed in your house for the time being. He was elated by this decision. Both of you made the effort of trying to hide your excitement. It was like a sweet temptation.
People started to talk about your potential lover, that you now shared your home with a man. And even if you denied it, there was something deep inside of you that longed for it to be true, for people to know that you belonged to someone. Maybe you have a thing for possessive love.
It took you a while to admit that your feelings for Remmick were romantic love since almost the beginning. Surely, it started as an attraction: the shape of his body, the particular shine of his eyes, the way he moves and conducts himself around you, around nature, around his former victims. But you also grew affectionate of his jokes and his determination to make you laugh, maybe it’s the way that he’s smarter than what he’d like to prove, and the times he scares you -truly terrifies you- instead of running away, it pulls you to him even more. It’s the way he knows exactly where to push to put you on your knees.
The confession you so desperately needed happened without any of you looking for it. But to be completely honest with yourself, it was impossible to resist it anymore. The house wasn’t as big and both of you started a game of tempting one another.
Since winter began, you started to wear lingerie-alike nightgowns at night and clothes that hugged your shape by day. On the other hand, Remmick helped around and took care of the house, working only in his trousers and leaving the bathroom door halfway open whenever he took a bath for you to watch him. It was a matter of time, really. The night it happened you had probably released so many pheromones Remmick was already intoxicated by the time it all went down.
That night a young man knocked on your door looking for a balm that could be used for muscular pain from a recent fight. He had a black eye and a wounded lip. He told you he fought protecting his Father's business from thieves last night, and by the look in his eyes, you knew it was true. You took him in, and guided him to the kitchen where you kept your secrets. When finishing the balm you offered:
“I can make you an amulet for protection too, but there’s no better enchantment than Smoke and Stack’s blessing, they could take good care of you and your family”
“I’ve tried to speak to them, but they’re just so busy with the Juke. They seem unreachable”
“Don’t you worry. Tell them I sent you, and if they give you any trouble I’m willing to answer their questions” You knew the Moore twins would accept offering you this one favor after all you've done for them. Whenever Annie rejected them in terms of the craft, you accepted every time.
Remmick saw and listened everything from the bedroom door, he kept quiet -imperciptable- and noticed every single attempt from the young man to flirt at you. It was disgustingly obvious. But the thing he hated the most was that the man was doing nothing wrong, you weren’t his, and the man was probably a good one, after all. Yet he couldn’t help but imagine that he interrupted and kissed you in front of the other guy, a reminder of the ownership of your heart. Remmick the vampire, who thought of himself above from human affairs, was feeling jealous.
When the man left feeling better due to your magic and kind words, Remmick wasted no time and entered the small room “Gosh, I thought he'd never leave”
“Guests are a rare gem, Remmick, I don’t mind at all. Besides it’s my job” You said, shaking the purse of coins that the young man gave you in exchange for your services. “My magic can’t pay bills just yet”
“Then let me work for you” he offered sincerely “Anything but hearing human males flirt with you” he quickly blushed, surprised that it came out of his lips.
“I… uh, okay?” You decided to ignore the comment just like you ignored the obvious flirting of the other man. Thinking that this surely means nothing. “So… Remmick, I was thinking-” he interrupted you by taking you by your shoulders, making you face him.
“You know you're my woman, aren’t you?”
“Remmick! I… uh, what are you talking about?” You blushed instantly, this must be a dream.
“Let’s cut the crap, you know there’s been something going on” He tried to press you against his chest, you couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Remmick, wait, wait, wait… I don’t think I understand” he looked at you confused
“What’s left to understand but that I want you to… You know… be mine” he was shaking but tried to conceal it and failed miserably, his voice -a bit higher than usual- confronted him with the truth.
“I… I don’t”
“Oh” he let go of you “I understand” and tried to leave feeling rejected.
“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant, Remmick” You tried to take his arm and make him look at you.
“I think I get it” he shook off your touch.
“I feel it too, Remmick” he looked back “I promise, it's just… I find it so hard to believe”
“Believe what? That I’m capable of loving?”
“No, no no no. Please don’t go that way. I mean, that I feel… so unlovable”
“Nah, I don’t buy it. What do you mean, woman?”
“What you hear, sometimes I think I’ve spent too much time on my own I wonder if I’m still…lovable”
“Are you serious? I… ” he knows he feels the same way, he understands exactly what you mean.
You can’t take it anymore “I’ve fallen in love with you, Remmick. There’s no doubt about it. For almost a year it’s been you and you alone” his pupils are expanding and his heartbeat is insanely fast.
“It’s just that… I’m a flawed being and I don’t know if I deserve it”
“Are you kidding me? You are flawed? Look at me, woman! Really look at who you're talking to.”
“Drink from me”
“W-what?”
“What you heard, drink from me and I’ll believe it”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, darling”
“I want you to have it, and to believe me”
“You don't know what you’re offering”
“You don't want it?”
“There’s nothing I want more, since the first time I saw you…”
“Then I need you to punish me, Remmick. I killed a man and I feel no remorse, I fear I’m a bad person… I need you to exorcize me and then I’ll be capable of loving you in the purest way” You said through tears that quickly began to fall, out of nowhere, out of your control.
“Listen to me, you did nothing wrong, not in my eyes. Don’t you see that I would never hurt you?” You hold on to him, as of right now he’s the only thing keeping you down to the Earth. “You haven’t realized, haven’t you? I just want to take care of you… If you let me you'd understand. I know I’m no good, neither am I trying to, but I’d take care of you, I promise.”
“Remmick… I don’t deserve it.”
“Don’t you say that, please, you're breaking my heart all over again, darling. I cannot care less about deserving or righteousness.”
“Then you must promise me you’ll try to feed from me, I need to give it to you, I beg you”
“Don’t say that, you don’t know the things that does to me”
“What do you mean?” He makes your tears dry up with nothing but a look.
“Don’t act foolish, are you going to tell me that you never noticed the way I look at you? Or the way that I try to touch you every chance that I get?”
“I… well, I now do but-” he proved his point caressing your damp cheek.
“Of course you didn’t, you're innocent as a dove, angel” and he meant it. You dare to get closer to him, until your noses were about to touch.
“Then I’ll beg and beg until you drink from me. I mean it, Remmick, I want you to choose me.”
“I do, every waking moment. I’ve been choosing you since I met you. You're the reason I stayed here, you’re the woman I saw whenever I had dreams that made my heart ache.”
“Please, Remmick, if you say you desire me, then you’ll drink from me” You both closed your eyes, he can’t deny you any longer. So he gets closer and closer to your neck.
First, he plants kisses all over it, then his tongue prepares the skin. He’s drooling and can’t stop, your smell, your warmth, is all far too much. It’s all he’s been wanting for almost a year now.
“I promise I won’t hurt you” Then you felt it, the heat, and it was amazing. “Oh, I’ve needed you so much, sugar” And so you became one, his fangs teared open but they produced no pain, instead it felt warm, like the reflection of sunshine shining over a lake. The sensation earned him a moan from you.
“Don’t do that, dove. I won’t be able to resist it”
“Take what you want, I need you. I feel so empty”
He drank faster, desperate, as if you were to disappear. A few moments later he decided to close the bite by covering it in his fluids so it would heal. With halfway closed eyes and blood tinted lips he looked at you, he really was beautiful.
“I need you to promise me this is what you want… it would break me, woman, -really break me-, if this doesn’t mean the same for you”
“And what does it mean to you, Remmick?”
“You have become everything, woman. And I can’t bear it anymore, not being inside of you…”
He barely finished the sentence when you pushed yourself against him, wrapping him in your embrace and kisses. Immediately he began gasping, taking his hands from your hips to your neck. He can’t get enough. “I need you, Remmick”
It’s all too much, the touch of his warm hands, the softness of his lips and the taste of copper, his body trembling under your spell. Maybe it just passed but a few seconds, -or maybe it was hours-, that you spent eating each other’s lips, but you decided you’ll give him more. So you got on your knees, immediately regretting the lack of his touch, but you have something else in mind to compensate for it.
“I’ll show you what you mean to me…”
Your hands wasted no time finding the fly of his pants, he quickly understood what was happening and helped you out to get rid of them. “You’re going to be the death of me, honey”
You started to place small kisses all over his belly and tights “Say I'm the only one for you. Say you’re mine or I shall stop”
“I’m all yours, woman. Now please, I beg you…”
“Not enough”
“Please, baby, I need you. I’d do anything for you. You’re the only one for me” his begs fell deliciously into your core. His words resonated with both agitation and anticipation.
So you decided to put him out of his misery and took his tip on your mouth. He was sweeter than what you’ve imagined. Salty yet sweet. His precum shines and you could feel his restraint. He wants to fuck your mouth so badly.
You started to move your head up and down covering all you could get in your mouth, then you licked his balls while jerking him off slowly. “You’re killing me, woman, please please I beg you, love”
“You should see yourself, Remmick, begging suits you perfectly.”
You decided to suck him again, this time with a faster rhythm while applying pressure to his base with your hands. “Please don’t stop I need to finish”
“You won't do so, Remmick, I want it inside of me”
“Goddamn it, woman, you’re killing me”
He stopped you and took your head in his hands, caressing your swollen lips with his finger.
“God, you’re beautiful”
He lifted you, like you’re now accustomed to, and took you to your bed. In a swift movement, you now lay on your back while he takes off his clothes. Quickly, you follow his lead and both stop for a moment, incredulous of what's about to happen.
“My sweet Remmick. I’ve needed you so bad for so long”
“You have no idea, woman, of how many times I've dreamt about this very moment…”
He approached to kiss you again, his mouth telling his most hidden secrets: affection and desire in equal parts. His hands loomed over your hips, your ribs, your chest, taking his kisses down to your neck. Then, your nipples. He stayed there for a while, sucking and moaning, while his hands caressed you.
“...How many times I’ve touched myself to you”
You were entirely at his disposal, it was like he knew exactly where to go and the way he needed to touch. In all fairness, it was the eagerness and repressed fantasies from over a year that drove him mad over your body. That’s how you noticed he started to drool all over you.
“I’ll be so good to you, darling. I’ll make you feel amazing, you’ll see”
You took him by his hair, he let out a moan, “Please baby, give it to me”
He then got on his knees in front of you, shaking with anticipation and a full erection. “I need to taste you”, Remmick didn’t even let you gasp for air when his mouth was already in your core. Licking, sucking and finding a rhythm that could make you beg for him. The dampness and the pressure mixed with his energy were enough to make you wet, but it was the intermission of his fingers what made you see stars.
He’s now swapping between his tongue and his thumb over your pearl. When you were ready to lose all composure, you decided to move your hips so the tip of his nose and his tongue could do their magic. This was better than his imagination, he can’t help but moan.
The erection started to become a problem, so he now tries to stroke himself while eating you. The thought of you using his face makes him go mad. Meanwhile you’re so close to the sweet release. Moving your hips a couple of times more until you feel your heart about to explode, the tips of your fingers feel like holding electricity, and your head is spinning.
When Remmick tastes your honey can’t help but beg “Please, please, please, darling, let me fuck you. I promise I’ll be good, please please please” His tone and crystal clear eyes make you melt in him, how could you say no?
His eyes are shining the same way they do when he's hunting, and that turns you on all over again. You look down again and find that he’s using his drool to lube his member. You don’t want him to use his fingers, you’re ready for him. You long for him to destroy you, and so you open your legs for him, the unmistakable first gesture of the animalistic ritual of sex.
“I’ll make you feel so good, My love” he promised again
And inside he went. First, he tried to do it slowly with soft strokes, but once your core opened to him comfortably there was nothing stopping him from charging into you. You could feel every pulsation, every rush of his blood inside his body now sliding into you, alive and burning.
“Don’t stop Remmick, my God” You feel devoted to the man in your arms, the electricity in your fingertips and the sweet dizziness from his ministrations. His breathing became erratic and his heartbeat could drill into your chest. He's holding into you like his lifeline, and maybe you are.
When you dared looking back at his face, you found him already looking at you. Both breathing each other's moans and curses. He sped up his pace finding the right place where it made you scream. You had no idea such a place existed, and he honored it by keeping it up, even if he was so close.
“I love you, woman. Fuck me, I do”
“Oh, Remmick, I want this all the time, fuck”
“My woman, mine, mine, all mine” his pupils expanded so much they were about to become mirrors. “Yes, yes, darling, yes. I’d do anything for you”
“Fuck, Remmick… I love you”
“I love you more, fuck fuck fuck. I’ve been in love with you since the beginning. Shit.”
You held on to him stronger, if possible.
“I realized I loved you after you called me a monster, fuck. My woman talks to me like that, shit. I loved it” he said every word in a moan, you started to ask yourself if he really was going to make it.
“I’m going to make you a mommy”
Instead of asking him if that was possible, or asking yourself if that was possible, you melted into him “Yes, Rem, give it to me”. It brought you great pleasure imagining your womb full of him, claimed by him. Remmick fucking you all day every day for nine months without consecuences.
He moaned your name like a prayer, and immediately felt a wave coming inside you. He was giving you his seed and you wanted it viciously. “I’m all yours, baby, fuck. I’m yours”, he cried. Your own release took hold of you in an instant, and it stretched the time and space. Nothing compared to it, maybe it was your own magic, maybe it was the love you both delivered mutually.
You thought that was it when Remmick cursed while collapsing over you “Fucking hell, woman, that was heavenly, that was perfect…” You laughed and kissed his temple. But then he turned you around and grabbed your ass to point at him “I’m not done with you… I’m coming inside you till my seed fills all of you and spills all over your legs” You looked at him blushed and, frankly, eager for more. All you had to do was biting your lips and pulling your ass up so he could have better access to you as a confirmation.
He got inside again, and the places he reached this time… it was amazing. You wondered if it was really possible to fuck all day long, you don't seem to get enough of him. Maybe it was dangerous for immortal beings like you two with this amount of stamina to get together. Maybe you’re transgressing some ancient rule, the thought was like an aphrodisiac.
Remmick kept praising your body and your beauty. He really was mesmerized, but also he was embarrassingly quick to come. Maybe it was the time he spent all alone, maybe it was the excitement and the anticipation. The thing is, that it made you fucking horny to think he came over and over just by being inside of you. His cum was dripping just like he wanted, but he couldn’t stop.
“I need more baby, I can’t stop it, I want you to have it” he repeated, all flustered and hard again.
So you helped him out, now he’s laying on his back and you straddle him with ease. “I’ll give you more, my love, I’ll give you everything you wish for” and with a kiss, you sealed the beginning of the night.
The morning arrived only to find you asleep over his chest. When you woke up, none of you dared to break the spell that was your silence. Hours passed holding hands, kissing each other's skin, melting in the embrace that made you one. Softly pushing the boundary between care and erotism. Finally, around midday you made your mind:
“Remmick… let's go home”
“Hm, isn't it right where we are, baby?”
“I meant… Ireland, love. And I’m serious”
“...I’ve never considered coming back”
“We can make it, Rem, I know it. I can sell this place and we could search for a new house there… what do you think?”
“I think… I would love nothing more than to share my life with you. No matter where. And our shared sessions, they mean a lot to me.”
“I bet our visions would be stronger if we were there. Maybe we could even make contact with your family, Remmick. I can give you so much more of my magic.”
He stared at the ceiling, trying to conceal a smile “I think I’m going to cry, baby” and he hid his head in your neck, unequivocally flustered. You laughed, noticing that it did not take much convincing, so you hugged him with all your strength.
“Alright, love, let’s go home” he whispered.
Epilogue
Dublin, 2020
The chase began with the man noticing the couple from afar. It was way too late for anyone to help him, his fate was sealed. The man found him first but the woman terrified him more.
“So you thought you could come down on our territory and make a mess, you racist bastard?”
The man was so scared he tried to apologize. Moments prior he tried to throw out a group of immigrant girls from a pub. The couple saw all that, and decided to take the matter into their own hands. After all, people knew, -secretly whispered-, about the Strangers: a man and a woman whose love only grew by the spilling of blood of those that committed any injustice they seemed punishable. Few survived, yet the police believed all to be a tale. Which granted them absolute impunity.
The woman appeared not too long after. “What do we have here, love?”
“I’ve been searching for fresh blood. It won't compare to yours but you know…”
“Let me prepare him for you”
A single yell was the last thing that that man could conjure before you took his conscience. The energy was electric, it made you stronger, and your lover wasted no time. He drank until the edge of survival for the man that lay beneath. He knew exactly how much to take. He won’t kill him, but he certainly won’t wake up in a couple of days. Hell, he won’t even remember his past life and actions. You called it an exorcism.
When Remmick finished he went straight to you, to your lips, your neck, your chest.
“Not here, mon cher. Let us return home, I need to take a bath after this scumbag got us dirty”
“Ugh, some things never change, don't they, my sweet witch? You told me the very same when I drank alligator blood.”
“Keep it up and I won’t let you bathe with me”
“You wouldn't dare!”
You both laugh making your way home, thinking about how the city has changed so much, yet the story of the Lovers ,-the witch and the vampire-, kept feeding the curiosity of visitors and residents alike.
Indeed, some things never change. Since you arrived so many decades ago, the night became your home. And the humans in this part of the world, you both took the task of taking care of them in return. Especially your fellow immigrants.
“You know, honey? I think I'm ready for the next step”
“Never took you for wanting to be a father”
“Ha - ha… I meant, you know… tying the knot”
“Rem, we're been together for over nine decades”
“Well, yeah, but in our scale of time that’s barely a courtship, you know? Immortal and shit”
“I guess you're right, baby, what do you have in mind”
He stopped walking and took your hands in his, kissing them repeatedly.
“Think about this: the land of my ancestors, you and me, a covenant in blood. And eternity together.”
“Remmick are you suggesting that we-”
“...I want to marry you, is what I’m saying”
He looked beautiful, the city light made his eyes shine like stars, and his cheeks were slightly blushed, like only he knows how. He never ceased to amaze you. Both became an extension from one another. How could you ever resist a life without him?
“Under one condition…”
“Anything, dove”
“We’re absolutely getting matching rings” you remembered the one he used to wear to deceive humans “Real rings, baby. And I'm putting you in a suit” he made a funny discomforted face “Do so, and my life is yours, Remmick”
“With a dress coat and all? ” He pointed at his ripped jeans and leather jacket like saying “me? really?”
“Oh yeah, and I’m so wearing white, you know, to match your fangs”
“You’ll be the death of me, woman”
“Oh, and we’re adopting a cat”
You resumed your way home, joking and laughing about a renewed life together. As the sun started to rise, eternity never seemed as blissful.
Thank you so much for following this story! Requests for Remmick are always open. My next fic is already in progress, let me know in the comments if you wish to get in the taglist.
Summary. A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they've been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
Tags. Vampire x Witch Pairing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst-Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut. Warnings. Violence and blood, mentions of murder and mutilation, explicit sexual content.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they've been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @charityara MY TWIN‼️ YALL DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW PERFECTLY OUR FREAKS MATCH🥰 btw jimmy is fat and stinks again
synopsis: you’re a sex worker, who’s seeing a client that just wants to cuddle and be treated like a baby. he’s gross, but at least you’re not fucking him, right...?
WARNINGS‼️: noncon, dacryphilia, scat, farting, watersports, vomiting, anal fingering (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), face-sitting (m on top), mommy kink, age play, dry humping, sloppy kissing, virginity loss (m), begging, oral on f, piv, jimmy has an infected cock/dick cheese yumm
race/appearance neutral reader!
song:
another night, another client. this one’s strange, jimmy. he said he doesn’t want sex, only cuddles. and to be treated like a baby on top of that. well, whatever, he’s paying for it, a lot of money too.
you’re standing at his door, frozen in fear for some reason. you’ve never done age play before, even if it’s not sexual. so you take a deep breath and knock on his door.
the door opens immediately. you see a fat, blonde man with greasy hair standing at the door. he’s holding a teddy bear. you gulp.
"mummy!" he says with a childlike tone in his voice. his teeth are yellow and rotten.
"y-you miss mommy, baby?" you say, stepping into his apartment.
he nods and embraces you. you almost gag at his fucking stench. old, dried up sweat, baked into skin. tooth decay. he smells and looks like he hasn’t showered in months. you’re so glad you agreed on no sex, you’d probably get a crazy infection.
"okay baby, what do you wanna do?" you ask him as he lets you go.
jimmy stays quiet for a while, like he’s thinking. "will ye read tae me?" he asks. he has a thick, scottish accent.
"of course, baby, whatever you want", you say, forcing a smile.
jimmy smiles and takes your hand, leading you to his bedroom. it’s like a child’s. blue walls, stuffed animals, a big cradle, children’s books...
he picks out a teletubbies book and signals you to come join him in the cradle.
you sit next to him and he immediately wraps his thick arms around you, leaning on your shoulder. his stink fills your lungs, you’re trying everything in your power not to gag.
as you start reading you notice his cock hardening against your knee. whatever, you try to ignore it.
he’s sucking on his thumb as you read, still holding onto the teddy bear. he really creeps you out.
you finish the book and look at him. ”you wanna hear another story?” you ask him.
jimmy shakes his head. ”cuddles”, he says, opening his arms. his armpits are sweaty as hell. you’re super grossed out, but end up lying on the bed with him.
he’s squeezing you tight, drowning you in his soft, large body.
you don’t register it at first, but at some point he starts giving you forehead kisses.
”h-hey, baby.. we didn’t- we didn’t agree on that”, you say, weakly pushing his head away.
”i’ll pay ye extra, please mummy, i want kissies”, jimmy whines.
”no”, you say. you’ve decided, you won’t be doing anything sexual with him. he’s totally disgusting.
jimmy starts pouting, his eyes tearing up slightly. he seems really disappointed.
then he suddenly pins you down inside the cradle.
”mama, kiss!” he whines, leaning in, puckering his lips.
”no!” you try to protest, turning your head.
but jimmy just follows. his lips crash against yours in a needy, desperate kiss. he starts loudly smacking his lips against yours, trying to push his slimy tongue inside your mouth. you keep your mouth stubbornly closed.
”mmh, mama…”, jimmy whines against your mouth, softly nibbling on your lower lip. he’s clearly upset about you not kissing him back.
he’s sloppy, drool pouring from the corners of his mouth on your chin and lips, making you shudder.
he forces your mouth open with his hand and locks lips with you again, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. you whimper, which seems to arouse him. you can feel his cock hardening.
he’s moaning as he kisses you, loud smacking noises filling the room from his lips meeting with yours. you try pushing him off, but he’s fat, way too heavy.
he finally pulls away from your lips with a thick line of drool connecting your mouths.
”mama, i want uppies”, jimmy says.
”i’m gonna leave!” you hiss, sitting up. but he doesn’t let you get far as he straddles you, sitting on your lap.
he’s way too heavy, your whole body is aching from his weight on you.
then he starts fucking humping you.
grinding on your lap like a dog, rubbing his cock against your crotch.
”stop, let me go!” you whine.
”no, mummy’s gonna stay”, jimmy demands.
he starts moaning, drool gathering on his chin. ”m-mama”, he whimpers. ”say ye love me mummy”, he pants, already out of breath.
you shake your head.
jimmy frowns.
he starts going faster, rubbing his clothed cock between your legs like his life depends on it.
then he stops, coming inside his pants with a loud moan.
he starts sobbing. ”i-i’m s-sorry mummy”, he cries.
he pins you down again, tears falling down his cheeks.
he clumsily pulls down your top, revealing your breasts.
”no!” you whine.
”but mama… i wanna nurse”, jimmy says, with puppy-dog eyes. he’s still crying.
he doesn’t listen to you as he puts his dirty mouth on your breasts.
he starts suckling while crying, his tears and spit wetting your skin.
you start squirming frantically, but he’s way too heavy to move.
”stop squirming”, he says. ”i-i wanna play”, he adds, looking at you with his blue, teary eyes.
then he does what you’ve been dreading. he takes off his shirt. his belly is big and round, it has some stretch marks and cellulite on it. he has rolls around his body. he has a lot of body hair. you just stare, terrified.
he leans in again, pressing his soft belly flush against yours. he feels warm and sweaty. you feel like you’re being crushed as he starts sucking on your breasts again.
he closes his lips around your nipple and sucks like he’s trying to get milk to come out.
”i-i’ll get mummy pregnant, then ye’ll have milk fer me”, he mumbles against your skin.
”no, just please stop!” you say, starting to become desperate.
”stop fighting, mummy, i’ll cry more”, jimmy threatens you. you do hate seeing a grown-ass man crying like a fucking toddler.
your nipples harden under his touch, and he notices. ”i-i read that girls are aroused when their nipples are hard”, jimmy says with a hopeful tone. ”so ye like me, right?” he asks.
”no fucking way!” you hiss.
jimmy pouts, more tears dripping on his cheeks.
”y-ye’re my mummy, and mummies love their babies”, he says.
”i’m not your fucking mommy!” you lash out at him.
jimmy frowns and starts crying harder. his face is flushed, and he has some snot dripping from his nose. he looks absolutely disgusting to you.
he goes back to your tits, it seems to calm him down. he’s trying to get your whole tit inside his mouth, like he’s trying to fucking eat it.
he starts kissing on your belly with loud smacks, moving lower.
you’re wearing a short denim skirt, so it’s easy access for him. he simply pulls down your underwear.
your panties have a wet stain on them. he notices, of course he does.
”y-ye’re wet fer me”, he says with a triumphant grin.
he’s holding you down, so even with your squirming it’s impossible to get away.
”i wanna taste mummy”, he murmurs. he places soft kisses on your inner thighs.
then his mouth crashes against your cunt. it’s clear he’s never done it before. he’s wetly making out with your cunt, not even close to your clit.
he’s moaning loud. then he starts crying again. it’s too messy, too wet. it’s his tears, spit and drool mixed with your fluids.
”mummy tastes so good”, he mumbles, mouth full.
he keeps making out with your pussy for what feels like forever, then he shoves his nasty tongue inside your cunt.
you mewl. you’re sure you’ll get some sort of infection from this, his teeth are fucking decayed.
he twirls his tongue around your tight walls, clearly enjoying himself.
”mmh”, he moans.
as he withdraws his tongue from your cunt and goes back to kissing your pussy he accidentally touches your clit.
you flinch and let out an involuntary moan. he notices.
”that’s mummy’s sensitive spot?” he asks, putting his thumb on your clit.
you cry out.
jimmy spreads you open with his fingers, like a child exploring. then he starts rubbing soft, clumsy circles on your clit.
”stop!” you cry.
”but ye’re enjoying this”, he says.
”i wanna kiss mummy there”, he murmurs, leaning in on your cunt again.
he gently puts his lips on your clit, closing them around it. then he starts sucking. you start crying then.
jimmy is very eager, sucking without taking any breaks.
your legs are shaking already. then it happens, you squirt on him. a lot, too. jimmy moans and open his mouth to swallow everything.
”mummy peed?” he asks, clearly confused.
he goes back to sucking on your clit, after cleaning you up from squirt.
you feel yourself getting closer to your release. you desperately try to stop it, but you can’t help it. you cry out as you come on jimmy’s face.
jimmy doesn’t understand that you came, so he keeps eating you.
”stop!” you yell.
jimmy just huffs and keeps eating you.
”mommy already came!” you try again. that’s what gets him to stop.
”i made mummy cum?” he says with a triumphant grin. ”i-i’ve never- i’ve only seen videos”, he says with flushed cheeks.
”i wanna make love tae mummy”, he says, pulling down his pants. his thighs are thick and hairy, so is his ass. ”i’ve never-”, he admits, with flushed cheeks.
”no, no!” you cry.
”please mummy, pleaseee”, he whines.
”no!” you hiss.
”but i wanna, please!” jimmy cries.
you shake your head.
jimmy frowns and forces your legs over his shoulders.
he spreads you open with two hands and and tries pushing inside.
”i’m sorry mummy, i cannae help it”, he murmurs.
his dick slips away. jimmy huffs and tries again, no success.
you let out a cold chuckle. he’s so fucking pathetic it’s almost funny.
he’s insanely hard, and yet is having a hard time raping you.
he finally manages to push himself inside you.
”ahh, fuck, mama… i-i’m s-so sorry, i’m sorry”, he apologizes.
he gently kisses your forehead, almost apologetically.
”mwah”
then he buries himself deep inside you, balls smushed against your ass.
you cry out.
”mmh, mama.. feels s-so good”, he moans. ”my tummy feels f-funny”, he adds.
then he starts thrusting.
hard, brutal. like he’s a humping dog, chasing his own release.
you mewl as he slams himself inside you again and again, hips snapping against yours.
his belly is pressing against yours as he fucks you, crushing you.
”i-i cannae do it much longer”, jimmy pants, out of breath already.
you really want to insult him, but you don’t know what he’s capable of, so you stay quiet.
his cock throbs inside you, already leaking precum.
you stare at the ceiling as jimmy forces his lips on yours in a clumsy, wet kiss.
”mmh, mummy.. m-mwah”,
you feel dread as jimmy licks into you, desperately trying to get you to kiss him back.
his lips keep glued against yours as he pounds inside you, sweaty balls slamming against your ass.
”m-mama, i’m gonna-”, he cries.
then he stops, burying himself deep inside you. you feel his warmth spilling inside you.
he doesn’t pull out, but stays buried inside you.
”mama, i need tae pee”, he mumbles.
”go to the bathroom!” you hiss.
jimmy shakes his head.
then it happens. he starts fucking peeing inside you. you feel the warm liquid filling you up.
you just cry as jimmy releases himself.
he pulls out only to piss on your tits and face. you close your mouth and turn your head away, but that doesn’t stop jimmy.
when he’s done he lets out a satisfied sigh.
you’re a mess.
but it gets so much worse.
”mama, i want ye tae kiss me there”, jimmy says, turning around, spreading his asscheeks.
”no way”, you hiss.
”pleaseee”, he whines, bending over, still spreading his asscheeks.
”no!” you say, trying to climb out the cradle.
jimmy frowns and grabs you, pinning you down.
”ye’re gonna do it”, he hisses.
then he proceeds to sit on your face, sweaty asshole on your mouth.
you close your mouth.
”lick!” jimmy hisses, putting more of his weight in.
you realize he’s not gonna give up, so you hesitantly put out your tongue and start licking.
he tastes like piss and sweat. you gag.
you push your tongue inside his soft hole, hoping he’d get tired soon. but he doesn’t get tired.
he’s moaning pathetically, grinding his asshole on your face.
”put a finger inside”, he demands.
you sigh and obey, pushing your index finger inside his soft hole.
jimmy lets out a loud moan as you start pumping your finger in and out of his hole.
”just like that, mummy”, he whimpers.
”m-mama… i’m gonna-”, he whines. then he lets out a loud fart on your finger.
you flinch, disgusted.
it doesn’t stop there as you feel something coming out of his ass.
you let out a disgusted whimper as he fucking shits on your face and finger. you quickly withdraw your finger, but the damage is already done. you try turning your head, but jimmy grabs your face so that you’re forced to be under him as he keeps shitting.
it falls on your closed lips. you start crying again, closing your eyes.
”taste it, mummy”, jimmy demands. when you don’t obey he forces your mouth open and shoves his shit inside your mouth.
you gag at the vile taste.
”swallow”, jimmy says.
you shake your head frantically. jimmy frowns and pinches your nose, forcing your shit-filled mouth closed.
soon you have no choice but to swallow.
you feel it coming up instantly.
you quickly yank yourself on the edge on the cradle and throw up on the floor.
jimmy looks at you, his cock hard.
he grabs you and starts licking the shit-laced vomit off your face.
you just cry, absolutely disgusted.
once you’re clean jimmy bends over again, revealing his shithole to you.
”clean me up, please mummy”, he says.
you sigh and lean in on his dirty hole. you know he’s not going to give up.
so you start licking the shit off his hole. you gag and almost vomit again, but manage to keep it down.
jimmy moans as you push your tongue inside his dirty hole.
he lets out another fart, right inside your mouth.
”s-sorry mummy..” he says.
you keep licking into him, gagging and crying. he feels soft and warm around your tongue.
jimmy starts grinding his shithole against your mouth, moaning loud.
”lie down, please mummy”, he says.
”i don’t wanna”, you whine.
”do it!” jimmy hisses.
you sigh and lay down on the bed.
jimmy climbs on top of your face again and sits on it with his whole weight.
you whimper as he starts grinding his hole on your face, some shit still on your cheeks.
he’s suffocating you with his sweaty ass, you can’t breathe properly. you try to tap on his ass to signal him to stop but he just keeps going.
”put yer finger inside again, mummy”, he demands.
you sigh and spit on your finger, rubbing it on his hole. then you push it inside.
jimmy lets out a pathetic moan.
you start pumping your finger in and out, his soft walls clenching around it.
”p-put another one”, jimmy whimpers.
you obey, shoving your middle finger inside him.
”fuck, mama…” jimmy moans, legs shaking.
he farts on you again, the vile smell filling your nostrils. you flinch.
”stop that”, you say.
”i-i cannae help it, my tummy feels funny..” jimmy whines, another fart leaving his hole.
his cock is insanely hard, leaking precum.
”i-i want ye tae kiss it, mama”, he says, positioning himself so that his cock is hanging in front of your face.
it reeks of piss and sweat.
you open your mouth, knowing that he is not going to let you leave without doing everything he wants.
”kiss it first”, jimmy says.
you obey, putting your lips on the tip. it tastes absolutely disgusting, so you gag. you’re pretty sure it’s infected somehow. as you pull back his foreskin you notice a yellowish, gooey substance covering his cock. fucking nasty. it has a musky, pungent smell. you gag.
”suck it”, jimmy demands.
you gulp, taking his cock inside your mouth. the taste is almost rotten. you can’t believe that was inside you, you’ll probably get a crazy infection.
you start moving your mouth around his cock, making it reach your throat. you gag every time.
jimmy moans, starting to move slightly.
a string of loud farts leave his ass as you suck on him, making you flinch in disgust.
you wish you could just disappear. you can’t believe the trauma you’re gonna have. you’re going to need years of therapy after this. you’re going to have to call the police on him, right?
”faster, mummy!” jimmy whines.
you obey, picking up your pace.
you can taste his precum on your tongue already.
you start going even faster, wishing he’d cum soon.
his dick is probably the nastiest thing you’ve ever tasted.
jimmy starts mouthfucking you then, slamming inside your mouth with a brutal pace.
you get the urge to bite him, but you resist it.
his balls are slamming on your chin as he violates your mouth with his nasty cock.
he keeps going for under a minute, then he comes inside your mouth with a loud moan.
spurts of warm, salty cum pour inside your mouth.
”swallow it”, he demands.
you obey, gulping everything down.
he climbs off your face, sitting at the other side of the cradle. he just watches you for a while, lovingly.
”i’m gonna go now”, you say, teary-eyed.
”no!” jimmy whines.
”i have to go home”, you try to explain.
”this is yer home now, ye’re my mummy”, jimmy says.
”n-no it’s not”, you say, climbing out the cradle.
jimmy follows, stepping in front of you. his taller, larger frame feels intimidating.
he suddenly throws you over his shoulder.
”what are you- help!” you scream.
jimmy quickly brings you to another room with a door, opening it. he goes down some stairs that seem to lead into a basement.
”help!” you scream. but no one can hear you.
he brings you down to a dirty basement with an old mattress in the corner.
he gently lays you on it.
you immediately try rushing to the door, but he locks it with a key hanging from his neck.
jimmy forces you on the mattress again and climbs on top of you.
”ye’re gonna be my mummy now”, he says. ”ye’re gonna read tae me, feed me, comfort me, kiss me..” he rambles.
”no!” you yell. ”help!” you scream.
”no one can hear ye”, jimmy says.
you start sobbing. ”please, let me go..” you cry.
jimmy frowns. ”don’t cry, mama”, he says. ”i’ll kiss it better”, he adds, leaning in.
he starts giving you constant kisses. on your cheeks, nose, forehead and lips.
”we’re gonna- mwah- be so- mwah- happy”, he coos.
he lies down, taking you into his sweaty arms. you gag.
”shh, mama”, he purrs. he gives you forehead kisses before closing his eyes.
”sing me a lullaby”, he demands.
you feel a big lump in your throat as you start singing him one of the songs your mother used to sing to you. you wonder if you’ll ever see her again.
”we can sleep together once ye start behaving”, he says, standing up.
”good night, mummy”, he says.
he walks out the door, leaving you lying on the mattress.
you’re a sex worker, who’s seeing a client that just wants to cuddle and be treated like a baby. he’s gross, but at least you’re not fucking him, right...?
MAKE U CUM. ( Incel! Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x Reader )
WARNING! This will contain ( NON-CON, VOMIT, P-IN-V SEX, MILD FINGERING, FILTH / LACK OF PERSONAL HYGIENE, INCEL MINDSET, DACRYPHILIA, AND MENTIONS OF SCAT, AGE PLAY, FARTING, CHOKING, MOMMY KINK. ) DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE DEAD DOVE / DO NOT LIKE THIS / WILL BE TRIGGERED!
AUTHOR NOTE! credit goes to @lulaaaaaaw ( the nasty yet sexy slut who gave me this idea ) . This content is normally not something I write, but it was very interesting to go on a more darker path with my writing <3
pairing: Incel! Fat! Jimmy Crystal x Retail Worker! Reader
prompt : What Jimmy wants, he'll get one way or another..
word count: 1,000+ words
WARNING! This will contain ( NON-CON, VOMIT, P-IN-V SEX, MILD FINGERING, FILTH / LACK OF PERSONAL HYGIENE, INCEL MINDSET, DACRYPHILIA, AND MENTIONS OF SCAT, AGE PLAY, FARTING, CHOKING, MOMMY KINK. ) DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE DEAD DOVE / DO NOT LIKE THIS / WILL BE TRIGGERED!
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND.
It was stupid. Why did you need to be the one handing out samples? There were three other girls who could’ve done this. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you glare at the samples on the tray, trying to pretend like you weren’t aware of the creeps watching you from the Gamestop across the hall. Coconut. Teatree. Spearmint. Cherry Blossom. Just focus on that. Coconut. Teatree. Spearmint. Cherry Blossom. Hearing shuffled footsteps approaching your little set up, you half lift your eyes up, focused on gathering the free samples. The stench hits you first, like an uppercut straight from the pits of hell.
God, it was hard to describe it as anything other than pure filth. Holding back a gag of disgust at the sudden punch from the stench, you lift your gaze up fully to find a man, greasy blonde hair and a nervous smile on his face. He had to be one of the creeps from Gamestop. Only those fuckers didn't bathe. Forcing the customer service smile on your face to stay in place, it takes all of your strength to not hurl, your hands trembling from the restraint. He was attractive..if he didn’t look like a total creep who lived in his Mom’s basement. Maybe with a good shower and you could maybe date him...not really.
“Hello there.” You greet, putting on a bubbly voice.
“Hi..” He glances down at your name tag slowly, eyes lingering for a beat as if he was memorizing it. “Uh…( Y/n ).”
“Hi there..” You smile, pretending like this wasn’t draining the life out of you.
“Jimmy.”
“Oh, is that your name?” You fake a giggle, “Well, hello there, Jimmy. I take it, you're interested?”
He doesn’t respond.
Not a grunt. Not a laugh. Not even one of those cringeworthy pick-up lines that the creeps at Gamestop normally blurt out about now. Staring at you with wide eyes, you let out a light nervous chuckle, squirming around in place. The silence drags. The only sound being his heavy breathing and your nervous chuckles. Nervously swallowing the dry lump in your throat, you fiddle with the bottle of coconut lotion, playing with the loose cap. Should you leave? Was he having some kind of medical emergency? Shifting from side to side on his feet, he opens his mouth up, flashing yellowed teeth. The chuckle in your throat dies, a shudder running down your spine. Forget being nice anymore, you couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. He was just as disgusting as he smelt. How someone could live their life like that? It was vile.
“So..do you want it?” You ask, furrowing your brows at his silence.
“I mean..if you’ll let me have your number.” He purses his lips together, pulling what you think is supposed to be some kind of sexy smolder.
“I meant the sample, sir.” You correct, cringing internally.
Flushing a bright red from embarrassment at your correction, he doesn’t respond, snatching the small bottle of coconut lotion from your hand. Speed walking without a second glance, you bite hard on your bottom lip, cringing at how awkward the encounter was. Geez, he seriously needed to socialize more. Then again, all the creeps from Gamestop needed to socialize more. Letting out a breath through your nose, you gag at the lingering stench in the air, tasting the sourness in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Covering your mouth with the back of your hand, your gag worsens at the artificial stench of coconut lotion on your hand. Fuck. Removing your hand from your mouth, you shiver in disgust, feeling like you need a bath. Ugh, fucking incel creeps.
“What was that?” Your co-worker questions, snickering.
“Some fucking loser from Gamestop.” You huff, rolling your eyes hard in annoyance. “Fucking reeked like the dumpster out back.”
“Ugh, loser.” She gags, making you nod.
“A loser in a fucking weird ass outfit.”
“What?” She raises a brow, “The tracksuit or the weird gold jewelry? Like who needs that many tacky gold necklaces?”
“I don’t know. Some people are weird like that.” You shrug.
"Fucking loser.." She fakes a gag, making your snort at her theatrics.
Pretending to stick her fingers down her throat, she pretends to projectile vomit over the samples, making dramatic gagging noises. Covering your mouth with your hand, you try to stifle your laughter, a tiny part of you still worried that creep was gonna see the two of you making fun of him. Maybe, he just wasn’t aware how bad he smelt and looked? Most of the creeps from Gamestop were oblivious, feeding each other with delusions and whatever the fuck they did in that store. Letting out one last theatrical gag, you lean against the table, drumming your nails against the sample tray. It was kinda bitchy of you to be joking with her about this. But, this was retail, all you could do was crack jokes about shit like this or else you would go insane.
“So, why are you over here, hm?” You joke, batting your eyelashes playfully at her. “Missed me that much? I know you love my ass, but one day you’re gonna have to get used to not seeing it every day.”
“Oh yeah, totally.” She nods, “I missed you so much that I got a new job for you to do.”
“Being…?” You raise a brow, curiosity as to what it would be.
“Take out the expired lotions to the dumpster.” She smiles, making you scoff.
Of course. First, they had you handing out stupid samples knowing that you’d get approached by the creeps from Gamestop. Now, they wanted you to walk to the creepy dumpster behind the mall to throw out samples. Lazy bitches. Shaking your head in annoyance, you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes as hard as you can, your lips curling down into a cranky little scowl. You don't get paid enough for this.
“Oh, that’s fucked up.” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at her smugness.
“Yeah, well, you get out of handing out lotions to the creepy Gamestop guys.” She reminds, making you perk up.
“Which bag do I take?”
Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you let out a low moan of pain, the back of your head throbbing in pain. You swear you could feel a second heartbeat in it, and dent in your skull. Rolling on your side softly, the world spins hard from the sudden move, hot stomach acid going up your throat suddenly. Covering your mouth with your hand to try to stop it, chunks of your lunch spill out from your mouth, the sour stench filling the air. Fuck. Gagging violently on chunks of vomit, you flinch as someone holds back your hair gently, a low soothing hum filling your ears. The warmth of someone’s chest presses against you. It was gentle…and oddly grounding at the same time.
Struggling to get your vision back to normal, you shut them tightly, sinking back into the chest pressing against your back. It brought you a little comfort. You just wanted this to stop⎯the pain, the vomit, the gurgling of your lower gut. Sobbing softly at the lingering taste of vomit in your mouth, you open your eyes up slowly, finding yourself not in a hospital room. It was a bedroom. And it wasn’t yours either. Furrowing your brows in confusion at your strange surrounding's, you couldn't remember anything, just a sudden pain and darkness as something hit you from behind. Looking around the room for something familiar, piles of dirty clothing and crumbled up trash littered the floor. Chips and…fast food wrappers? Or were those crumpled up tissue paper?
“The video didn’t say that you’d throw up.” A voice mumbles, the sound making your head throb.
“What?”
“I think I hit you in the wrong spot.” They continue to ramble, “But, I didn’t want to ruin your pretty face. Pretty things shouldn't break, we need to protect them, that’s what Mummy always says.”
What? Furrowing your brows in confusion at the rambling, it didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t tell if it was because your head was killing you or what he was saying. Brushing it off as a side effect of the hit to your head, you cringe at the chunks of vomit on your hand, looking for something to wipe it on. But, there was nothing but piles of dirty clothes around you. You had already puked down the side of his bed, you didn’t want to be even more of a dick and wipe your hand on some of his clothes. Grabbing your wrist with his free hand, you gag as he licks the palm of your hand, disgustingly slow. Like he was licking melted ice cream or frosting.
Sharply turning your head away, you refuse to look at him, staring at the specs of dust in the air like it was some kind of word of art. You wouldn’t. You fucking wouldn’t because it would only make you puke again. Sucking on your fingers agonizingly slow, you shudder in disgust, his tongue swirling around your fingertips like it was meant to be romantic. You force yourself to write this off as a hallucination⎯because anything but was just vile. Pulling away with a wet pop, you shudder in disgust, unable to stop yourself. Wiping your hand on your pants, you turn your head to the side, finding the familiar staring back at you. It was the creep from the mall. Gamestop boy.
“Where am I? I don’t remember…just..” You trail off at the end, your head throbbing too much to remember.
“Home.” He replies, as if it was the most normal explaintaion.
“Home?”
“Mm-hm.” He nods, “We’re home now.”
“Did I pass out⎯” You try, but he cuts you off.
“I don’t know. I found you, behind the mall. Nobody was around, they all left. Left you there like you were just..trash.” He explains, “So, I took you home. I didn't want someone to take advantage of you, I’m a good guy.”
They left you? They just left you outside, knocked out beside the dumpster? Feeling tears bubble up in your eyes, you turn your head away to hide them from him, your bottom lip trembling involuntarily. You’d never fucking do that to them. Never. Sniffing softly as more tears bubble up, he rubs his hand up and down your arm, a sweet attempt to offer some kind of support. It only made you want to cry even more. The fact that the creepy guy from Gamestop looked out for you, over your own co-workers was fucking ridiculous. Harshly wiping away the tears in your eyes, you clear your throat softly, forcing down the thickening lump in your throat. Fuck them.
“Thank you.” You mumble, unsure if you had remembered his name correctly. “Jimmy, right?”
“You remembered.”
“Kinda, I faintly remember it.” You shrug, “Everything still is kind of blurry.”
“I bet it is, you took a really hard hit to the head. You know, most guys would’ve just raped you, maybe even slit your throat. You weren’t moving, barely breathing. But not me, I knew that I had to keep you safe.” He rambles, the words making you cringe.
Tucking back a strand of hair behind your ear, you flinch at the touch, the brush of his calloused fingertips against your throbbing temple ache. You could feel his hot breath against the side of your face. The stench of his rotten breath curling out from his parted lips. He was comforting…weird, but surprisingly comforting. It only made you feel worse for being so disgusted by him. He just…reeked. It was like the stench had been left to fester too long on his skin that it was now one with his body. God, you sounded like such a dick thinking that.
“I’m sorry..”
“Don’t be.” He shakes his head, “I forgive you.”
“I mean..for throwing up on your floor.” You whisper, the sourness of stomach acid lingering on your tongue. “Just feel sick from moving around so much.”
Shifting your gaze away from him, you take the time to really look at the apartment, your mind slowly growing more and more clear with each comforting rub of his hand. Piles of dirty clothes scattered around⎯some on the desk, hanging out of open dresser drawers, a few in the corner that most definitely would like a monster at midnight. Wrappers for just about every single fast food restaurant crumpled up on the floor, some still with smears of ketchup on them. A few crusty tissues that you were praying for were only used to clean dust off something and not for his cum.
A collection of monster energy cans, all limited edition cans. The walls were peeling, the shade of pale yellow floral wallpaper no longer bright and cheery. There were a few holes in the wallpaper, but most of them were covered with posters. Pamela Anderson. A faceless woman in leather pants with pink ribbon tying her hands behind her back. Some kind of video game thing..Postal? It looked like someone’s old grandma’s bedroom, just filled with the clutter of a gross teenage boy. Squinting your eyes softly, you felt dirty just sitting here, like you needed to be boiled in hot water and soaked in hand sanitizer.
“You really should be happy that it was only me that found you.”
“I am.” You nod.
“You..You kind of owe me..in a way.” He mumbles, his voice trailing off slowly.
Your stomach drops at his words. All the comfort that he had previously given you dying fast and hard. Swallowing the lump in your throat, he rubs your arm one last time, before removing it completely. Shifting on the bed, you jolt softly as the mattress dips, the old bedframe creeping from both of your combined weight. Please, just mean that you owe him a coffee. Please. Please. Please. Pressing himself harder against your back, you clench your jaw tightly at the press of something hard against your ass, praying that it was only his knee. His ringed fingers slowly rest on your thigh, careful. As if he was testing the waters to see what was okay before you snapped and bolted for it.
“Please, don’t⎯” You whisper, but he cuts you off.
“I’m a good guy. My Mummy raised me right, you’re supposed to take care of pretty girls.” He continues, “Protect them from evil, from the demons of this world. Be a gentleman, and you will be rewarded. I think I’m ready for my reward now.”
Not a fucking chance. You’d buy him a coffee, maybe a long hug of appreciation. But, there was no fucking way that you’d do more than that. Shaking your head in refusal as his hand wanders up your thigh, you blink back tears, pushing him away with your hand. You need to get out of here. You needed to get the fuck out of here. Running his fingers through your hair, you flinch at the touch, scrambling up to your feet. The world around you spins, the urge to hurl creeping up your throat.
Fuck. Grabbing onto the bed frame for support, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, forcing back down the acidic bile in your mouth. No. No. No. Don’t fucking fail now. Watching you stand up silently, he doesn’t react just yet, just silently watches you. Blinking softly, he glances over your face slowly, lips pulled into a thin line as he takes your nauseous expression. The carpet lets out a disgusting wet squelching sound as you step on your vomit, your sneakers ruined.
“Don’t be a prude.”
“I’m not a fucking prude! And⎯And, look, I am so grateful that you helped me. But⎯But, I’m not a fucking thing, and I’m not fucking kissing or…or whatever it is that you’re thinking that I should do to repay you.” You ramble, taking a shaky step back from the bed.
“You owe me.”
“I don’t.” You shake your head, “Not like this! I’ll⎯I’ll write you a check or something, just..”
Just fucking stop being so god damn weird about it, was on the very tip of your tongue. But, the words don’t come out. His face grows cold at your words, like something straight from a horror movie⎯the moment the final girl does something stupid and pisses off the killer. Blinking back tears in your eyes, you cower as he towers over you, broad and intimidating. Why the fuck did this have to happen to you? Why not the bitch pretzel lady in the food court?
Wrapping his hand around your neck tightly, you shudder at the cold metal of his rings against your skin, the fear babbling up more and more in your lower gut. He had you trapped, like a lamb who had unknowingly been dragged into a slaughterhouse. All that you could do was take it and take it, until he had his fill. Or…Or you could make a run for it and pray that it would work.
“Stay the fuck away from me.”
“I helped you, I helped you when no one else would.” He argues back, “I could’ve raped you. I could’ve killed you. I could've left you alone. But, I didn’t. I did a good thing.”
“You did, but⎯”
“I deserve a reward. Don’t be like those other whores, who fucking use blokes like me and then treat us badly!" He spits in your face, "You’re fucking different, so stop acting like them!”
Trailing his eyes down slowly down your body, he lingers on your breasts, his free hand reaching out to grab them. Smacking his hand away instinctively, he squeezes painfully on your throat, a choked gasp escaping your lips as he denies you air. Clawing at the back of his hand with your nails, he clicks his tongue scoldingly, a condescending look on his face. Loosening his grip on your throat, you choke on air, spit oozing out from your mouth. The throbbing in your head was one thing. The weakness in your body was another. Now this? Choking you? Slowly removing his grip entirely on your throat, you tense up as he trails a finger down the collar of your shirt, the baggy t-shirt hiding the fullness of your chest from view. The only good thing about the tacky uniform. Your lungs burn, and not just from being choked before.
"Jimmy.."
"My Mummy would've liked you." He whispers, "You were so nice to me, nicer than those other whores. They just look at me in disgust, like I'm trash. But, you.."
"Jimmy, please, just.."
"You actually looked at me, in the eye. You asked me my name. You were so nice to me, and I just..I just couldn't let you go. And I know that you rejected me cause those whores would've made fun of you, so I don't blame you. You would've said yes if they weren't there." He continues, too consumed with his rambling.
Flicking the collar with his finger, he suddenly grabs it with both hands, ripping it down to your midriff. The stickiness of the air clinging onto your skin. Fresh tears bubble up in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling as you realize what was to come. Looking over your bra slowly, he grabs a handful of your breast, as if testing how they feel in his hand. He squeezes painfully, eyes focused on your nipple. Nothing comes out. Why would anything? You weren’t pregnant, never had been. Clicking his tongue in disappointment, he squeezes hard, as if he thought that he could force something out of them. But, nothing does. It just hurts, like getting a mammogram done. Finding a burst of motivation, you slap his hand away hard, making a bolt for the bedroom door. You legs nearly give out on you, but you push through it. You needed to get the hell out of here. He was sick...sick and delusional.
“Don’t.” He sighs, as if he had been expecting this but was still disappointed.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” You jiggle the doorknob, but it doesn’t open.
“The door is locked.” He explains calmly, “So is the one down the hall, and the other one, and the other one. Windows too. You can’t get out, not unless I let you out.”
Giving the stick handle another hard jiggle, it doesn’t budge open, as if someone had locked it from the other side. Fuck. Looking around for another way to escape, he stands at the foot of his bed, just watching you in amusement. Who the fuck does this to other people? Jiggling the door in desperation, he slowly pushes himself off the bed frame, bare feet nudging away from wrappers. Why? Why? Why?
Bursting into tears as he towers over you, you wished that you had died, that he had just left you to die behind the dumpster. Grabbing you by the hair, you sob at the pain it sends down your spine, the back of your head still sensitive. Throwing you down to the edge of the bed, he ignores your thrashing, using his strength and towering frame to bend you over onto your stomach. Your sneakers hit the bed frame, his weight suddenly pressing down on you.
“No! No!” You sob, “No! God no! Jesus help me!”
“Why are you calling on those shite cunts for?” He clicks his tongue, tilts his head to the side.
“Please, please, you don’t have to do this. I’ll not tell anyone, I won’t tell the police.”
Frowning at the rough texture of your jeans, he grabs a handful of your hair, rolling you onto your back. The pressure of his fingers against the sensitive spot on your head makes you sob harder, a hot pain shooting down you in waves. Hitting and kicking at anything within reach, you barely notice him unzipping your jeans, slowly peeling them down your thighs like it was a Christmas present. The coldness of his rings against your hot skin snaps you back to reality. Leaving your jeans pooling around your ankles, you sob heavily as he looks over your bare legs, drooling at the exposed skin. Tightening his grip on your hair, he forces your head up from the mattress, the throbbing worsening in your head. Death was far more merciful than this.
“Please, Jimmy, don’t⎯”
“Stop being a teasing slut like all the other girls.” He snaps back, “I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I will if you make me.”
“Please..” You beg, hoping that you could somehow appeal to some part of him.
“You owe me.” He argues, yanking your panties down your thighs.
“Jimmy, don’t do this. I’m begging you, please…” You try again, your bottom lip trembling as he breaks the elastic of your panties from the force. “Please..”
Chuckling darkly at your weak attempt to get him to stop, he grips your hips painfully tight, flipping you over onto your stomach in one smooth motion. Before you can catch your breath, he's covering your back with his larger frame, the thick line of his cock nestling between your ass cheeks. The coarse hairs on his chest brushing against you. The stench of him enveloping your nose. Nipping at your earlobe playfully, you whine at what was to come, nails tangling into the wrinkled bed sheets.
One hand snakes around to rub tight circles on your sensitive clit, clumsy and too rough at times. Flinching at the rough friction of his calloused fingertips, he pulls his hand back, his lips curling down at the flinch. Sloppily spitting on his hand, he snakes his hand back around, rubbing his wet fingertips over your clit. The friction a little less painful, but still clumsy. Pathetically clumsy, like he's never touched a woman before this moment. And you didn't doubt it must've been.
“That’s better.” He mumbles, “Didn’t mean to hurt you, just wanna make you feel good.”
“Please, just⎯”
“I’m a quick learner, my Mummy says I am.” He rambles, “And you’re gonna teach me, and the next time I’ll know what to do and you won’t ever flinch again.”
Like hell would there be a next time with him, not if you could fucking help it. Pressing more of his weight against you, you grit your teeth painfully, hips twitching involuntarily at the friction on your clit. It was cruel the way you’re body twitched, but it was only natural. It was still pleasure at the end of the day, and you would react to it⎯even if your mind didn’t want it to. Pressing even more of his weight down on you if that was possible, you could feel the ache already forming in your lower back, the awkward angle putting strain on you.
It hurt, but not as much as what was sure to come. Nipping a little harder on your ear, you flinch again, hot tears bubbling up in your eyes. Hopefully, he’d finish too quickly and then you could try to find some escape. There had to be some way out of here. A loose window still. An unlocked door. Something⎯Anything. Frowning softly as you flinch again, he releases your ear, his fingers faltering. He didn’t like the rejection. He didn’t like the way you flinched. You were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to be enjoying this as much as he was.
“You’re hurting me⎯”
“I’ll rub softer, I promise.” He mumbles, “I just wanna make you feel good, stop fighting it.”
“You’re heavy. You’re hurting me.”
“I’m not that heavy.” He huffs, his grip tightening on your hip. “I’m healthy.”
For a fucking whale, maybe.
Pressing more of his weight down on you, you claw at the stained bedsheets, trying to crawl your way from under him. His face falls at the sight, offended that you’d think he was fat. He wasn’t fat. He was just holding onto a little bit of baby fat, that’s what his Mum used to always say. That’s all it was⎯a little bit of baby fat. Pulling his hand away from your clit fully, he slaps your ass hard, the rings on his hand only worsening the feeling. Your cheeks sting from the impact, tears bubbling up further in your eyes. A sob threatens to escape your lips. Scowling deeply as you don’t even bother to apologize after the slap, he slaps your ass hard again, using more force than before. Each punishing slap feels like someone was hitting you with a metal pipe, the rings adding extra friction.
“I’m not fat, I’m healthy. My Mummy used to say it's a good weight.” He argues, “I’m a good guy, ( Y/n ). And..And, I don’t want to have to hit you like this, but you’re being mean.”
“Please, stop.” You beg, ass throbbing from the spanks.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He mumbles, “But, Mummy used to say that when you talk bad, you need to get spanked for it.”
Who the fuck cared what his Mummy used to say to him? Did the bitch not teach him not to rape anyone? Letting out a sob as he slaps your ass even harder, you cling onto the bed sheets, trying to think of a way to get him to stop. Begging clearing wasn’t going to work nor would kicking and fighting back. He was bigger and had you trapped underneath him. You’d have to do something else. Sobbing at another punishing slap, an idea pops into your head, making you want to hurl for having to use such a drastic measure to survive this⎯to survive him.
You could always pretend..pretend like you loved him. You could pretend like you weren’t disgusted by him⎯by this. You could pretend like you didn’t want to stick a knife between his eyebrows. You could pretend like you wanted this just as much as he clearly wanted this. Blinking back the tears in your tears, you flinch at the slaps, forcing yourself to take a breath in. Emotions would have to be pushed down and buried. You needed to survive. You needed to survive long enough for someone to notice that you were missing. Lifting his hand up again, you flinch, already anticipating another hard slap.
“Jimmy, stop please..” You force down your disgust, “I wanna talk about how I can please you.”
“What?” He freezes, feeling like you had just slapped him.
“You..You don’t know how to please me, and that’s okay. But, most couples..” You lie, “Most couples, they talk. They talk about what they like, that’s how sex becomes fun for them. They talk about kinks, and what they like and..and everything.”
“In porn⎯”
“In porn, they are paid to do it. It’s a job for them, not pleasure. But, us?” You lie, “We’re doing this for pleasure, right? And⎯And I wanna pleasure you just as much as you want to with me.”
Furrowing his brows softly at your explanation, he nods his head softly in agreement, hesitantly pulling back from you. Sitting back on the bed, he watches you for a moment, not sure if this was a trick or not. It didn’t sound like a trick. You sounded serious, really serious. Digging your nails into the stained bed sheets, you force sit up from the bed, tears still streaming down your cheeks from the slaps to the ass. You shouldn’t be doing this. You should just be silent. You should just wait for him to finish. But, it never hurts to try. He clearly thought that you were supposed to be happy with this⎯with him. Maybe, if you played pretend⎯like you wanted this just as much as he did, it could help you in some way. Maybe, it could make him stop or go easy on you or not kill you.
“So..what do I say?” He asks innocently, like he hadn’t just assaulted you moments ago.
“Well, I’ll start so you have an idea on how to tell me what you like.” You nod, “I like being kissed during sex, I like feeling loved, and I like when someone listens to me. Like when I say stop, they stop and don’t do it again because that pleases me.”
“Oh..”
“And what do you like, Jimmy?” You ask, dreading what kind of answer he’d give back.
“I..” He pauses for a moment, carefully thinking over the question. “I want you to touch me, I want you to take care of me.”
That was…surprisingly innocent, considering he had just assaulted you. Nodding your head in fake interest at his explanation, you sniffle softly, forcing yourself to pretend like you were talking to one of your girlfriends about your latest hook-up and not your rapist. Chewing on his bottom lip hard in thought, the longer the silence goes on, the worse the feeling in your gut gets. If he could rub at your clit and hold you down, god knows what else his twisted mind could come up with.
Stealing a glance at the door, you could see light at the bottom, maybe another room or something was open? Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you slowly move an inch away from him on the bed, keeping it small enough that he wouldn’t notice. Maybe, if you kept him talking long enough, he’d forget about what he had just been doing. Or you could say that you were tired and wanted to wait for tomorrow so you two could have the whole day dedicated to having sex.
“Yeah? Any kinks?”
“I want you to be my Mummy, I know you’d be so good at it. I see the way you are when you give samples to the kids.” He rambles, getting more and more passionate the longer he speaks. “And, I want to lick your feet. I want you to grind on my belly while I suck on your milk.”
“Yeah?” You nod, faking interest.
“And I want you to sit on my face, to fart in my mouth. I want to poop on you, and I want you to clean it up with your mouth. I want you to change my diaper, to sing me lullabies and give me a pacifier.” He keeps on going, each kink worse than the previous one.
“That’s…” You pause, trying to find one kink that couldn’t revolt you completely. “I can be your Mummy, I can do that happily. But, I don’t want to do the other stuff, not now.”
“But⎯”
“That’s too much for us, don’t you think?” You argue, “We’re still learning how to have sex, learning what the other likes. We don’t want to overwhelm ourselves.”
Furrowing his brows together at your reasoning, you scoot a little further away from him, now within an arms length of him. He doesn’t notice, at least you don’t think he notices just how much the gap between you has grown. Your pants rub against your ankles uncomfortably, the feeling of crunchy bed sheets underneath your bare ass was revolting. How you didn’t notice it before was surprising to say the least. Everything in here was just filth⎯from the fucking posters on the walls, all the way down to the carpet. Opening his mouth to speak, he stops himself at the last second, as if truly taking the time to think over your words. Which was surprising considering the fucker had just kidnapped and sexually assaulted you. This was when he listened? Now?
Slowly slithering a little further away from him, you sit on the very edge of the bed, your ass half hanging off of it. The silence stretches on, too long. For a moment, you think that he might have just noticed that you’ve put such a distance between the two of you. Shifting his gaze down onto his hands softly, you take advantage of his distraction, standing up from the bed. Leaning against the bed frame like it was intentional, you resist the urge to pull up your jeans and panties, feeling so exposed being undressed from the waist down. Your uniform shirt wasn’t long enough to cover you, barely reaching down to your navel. Lifting his gaze up from his hand, he stares at you, eyes flicking between the bed and you. Fuck.
“Why are you standing over there?” He asks, making you tense.
“I..I just wanted to⎯” You blubber, struggling to come up with a reasonable excuse.
“Why are you pulling away from me?”
“I’m not⎯” You try to lie, but he cuts you off.
“Why are you pulling away from me, ( Y/n )? We were having such a good time, we were happy together.” He presses, his face growing more and more cold.
“Jimmy⎯”
“We were having such a good time, ( Y/n ).” He rambles, “Why are you trying to leave me? Why are you doing this to us? Why are you trying to leave? Leave me?”
Opening your mouth to spout out some believable lie, he bolts up from the bed before you could react, grabbing a handful of your hair. Letting out a screech of pain, he drags you around like you weighed nothing, piles of trash kicking up from your thrashing around to break free. No. No. No. Sobbing as he pulls you closer and closer towards the bed, he releases you suddenly, leaving you to trip over your jeans pooled around your ankles. Smacking your hip hard against the corner of the mattress, he pins you against the bed, your chest pressed against the mattress with your feet dangling off it. The sound of a zipper sending another round of tears. No. No. No.
“I tried to be good. I tried and..” He clenches his jaw, “And you just⎯you just fucking tried to leave! I did a good thing, ( Y/n ). You owe me for that, slut.”
“Please, please, don’t⎯”
“You should’ve behaved.” He answers back, his voice frighteningly cold. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you keep giving me no choice.”
Kicking your legs weakly to try to break free, you can hear him fumbling around to remove his pants without having to remove his hands from you, awkwardly doing a half shimmy. It doesn’t budge at first, then slips slightly. The hard press of his boner smacks against your ass as he shimmy’s around, left to right then left again. Letting out a low growl as his pants get stuck in the elastic band of his boxers, he thrusts his hips forward again, trying to get them to unravel. His knee hits the back of your thigh a few times, awkward and clumsy as he struggles. If you were so terrified of what was to come, you’d have laughed in his face for how pathetic he was.
Losing his patience as the waistband only curls more into his pants, he removes one of his hands from your hair, yanking them down his thighs. The fabric slowly slips down to his ankles, bare cock smacking against his fat stomach. Tiny droplets of pre-cum leak on your ass, making you sob even harder into the mattress. It was warm and if he had been any other man⎯any other situation, you’d have enjoyed the feeling of it. Pressing your head down into the mattress, he thrusts forward, his cock thrusting between your ass cheeks. He completely misses, only making him huff even more. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he releases his grip on your hair completely, grabbing your ass to spread them open.
“Open that pretty cunt for me.” He sneers, “You don't get to hide it from me.”
“Please, no⎯”
“Open up, or I’m gonna stick it in whatever hole I find.” He threatens, “I don’t care what I fuck.”
You believed him. Awkwardly thrusting forward, you cringe at the drag of the head of his cock between your folds, a foul stench filling your nose. Pressing your forehead against the mattress, you glance between your legs, finding a ring around his cock. It wasn’t a piercing, or the latex ring that a condom would have. No, it was gooey and yellowish in color. Almost like the kind of crust that would build up if you didn’t wash away soap right. Gagging violently at the sight, he blindly feels around, grabbing the base of his cock. His foreskin peels back, revealing the irritated head of his cock. It was oozing pre-cum and was swollen⎯and frankly, it looked painful.
God, you were definitely going to get some kind of STD or at the very least, a UTI from this. Guiding the head of his cock between your folds, you take a sharp breath in at the pressure, body tensing up. He was going through with it. He was actually going to do this, and there was nothing you could say or do to stop it anymore. Shutting your eyes tightly, he doesn’t push in, just stays frozen in place and that only worsens the fear in you. Sick fuck was gonna make you wait⎯wait for him to rape you. Letting out an exhausted breath, he hunches over you, crushing weight stealing a breath from you.
“Please..”
“Shut up, slut.” He slaps at your clit hard, “Cry all you want, it’s not gonna stop me. I’ll just use your tears as lube.”
“You can still stop this. We can still walk away⎯”
“Too late for that.” He argues, cutting you off.
It was. It was too fucking late. Taking a hiccuping breath in at his words, you tightly shut your eyes, the feeling of defeat taking over. Slowly pushing the head of his cock in, you choke on a breath, an instant burning sensation filling you. It wasn’t just because of the gunk on the head of his cock, but the sheer size of him. Not even your toy rabbit was this big, and you had gotten the second biggest size from the online store. Letting out a pathetic whimper, he shudders violently above you, his hands switching between clawing at your hips and grabbing at the back of your uniform shirt like this was killing him. Red lines form on your skin, stinging like hell.
Bucking his hips involuntarily at the feeling of your walls stretching around him, he blubbers out gargled noises and what you think was a ‘Mummy’, the pain worsening. Furrowing his brows in pleasure, he pushes in a little more, the burning sensation growing and growing. Normally, you’d have done some more foreplay. Fingering. Eating you out. Maybe use some lube. But, that was with normal circumstances and a normal consenting partner. Yanking hard at the back of your uniform shirt, you choke as the collar presses hard against your throat, cutting off your air for a moment. Clawing at the crusty bed sheets with your nails, he bucks thrust forward clumsily, fat stomach slapping against your ass as he bottoms out. Disgust bubbles in your gut.
“Fuck⎯Fucking, it’s nothing like my hand.” He stutters out, his eyes shutting tightly as you involuntarily clench around him.
You don’t respond. It hurt too much to even let out a breath. Besides, his fucked up mind might think that you letting out a noise it would be in pleasure and not because he was violating you.
“Gonna⎯Gonna keep you forever.” He sobs, “So fucking good, Mummy.”
The sound of ‘Mummy’ from his lips was revolting. He was a grown ass man and yet calling you his ‘Mummy’. Sloppily pressing wet kisses along the side of your neck and cheeks, you cringe at the feeling, a string of saliva connecting from your skin to his lips. Setting a punishing pace, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room mingled with his low moans. You could feel his wife beater bunching up from the friction of his chest pressing against your back, until you could feel the hairs on his fat belly. Rough and coiled and reeking of sweat.
You could feel the drag of his cock inside of you. You could feel every vein, every little ridge down the shaft of his cock. You couldn't forget the feeling, even if you wanted to. Resting your forehead against the hot bed sheets, you can’t do anything but take every punishing thrust of his cock in you. In another life, you might have found pleasure in it. He had the cock most pornstar’s dreamed about having. But, you didn’t find pleasure. No. No, you’d only find pleasure when he finally stopped and got off of you. Then, and only then, would you feel pleasure.
“So fucking good, Mummy.” He hiccups, choking on slurred babbles and moans.
You refuse to respond, counting down the minutes in your head.
“Say I’m good, Mummy.” He babbles, “Say I’m doing a good job.”
Jolting forward with each slap of his hips against your ass, you bite hard on your tongue, refusing to let a single noise. It was spite and the will to survive this encounter that kept you going⎯that kept you enduring. Someone would come and save you. Someone would, and then Jimmy would get hell unleashed upon him. Gritting his teeth together, his thrusts grow sloppy fast, losing its punishing strength from before. Whimpering softly as his orgasm builds ridiculously fast, he tries to keep a fast pace, to keep going until you finally crack and make a noise. But, he can’t. Not when you’re clenching around him like this⎯even if it was just an involuntary movement of your body and didn’t mean anything. Hiding his face in your hair, he thrusts a few more times, shuddering violently as he cums. His hips jerked involuntarily a few times to keep his cum from oozing out.
“You didn’t say I was a good boy.” He whimpers, pouting heavily.
Silence.
“Hey! I know you’re not dead, you’re still breathing. Respond to me.” He slaps the back of your head, sending a wave of pain down your spine. “Respond or I swear I will do it again.”
“You’re a good boy, Jimmy.” You whisper, the words sour on your tongue.
“Next time, I’ll do a better job and give you pleasure. You just need to stop fighting. It’s not fun when you fight back.” He rambles, lecturing you like you were the problem here.
Staring at the crack underneath the door, you couldn’t see sunlight anymore, it was just pitch black now. Has it really been that long? You couldn’t tell. You hadn’t counted how long you had been in this room with Jimmy, only minutes later into the assault. You had counted five minutes before he came. So maybe an hour…maybe much longer. It was still light out when you had taken the trash to the dumpster, late afternoon? But, then again, he supposedly had found you after you’d been there for hours. Had a day past? Had you been here for a day already? Had anyone noticed your disappearance yet? Your boss? Your next door neighbor? One of your girlfriends?
Slowly pulling out of you with a sickening wet squelching sound, you could feel his cum ooze out, sticky and slowly trickling down your inner thighs. Lifting himself off of you with an exhausted wheeze, he lifts you up like you’re nothing, throwing you onto the bed fully. Your back was killing you, and your inner thighs..and your legs…and so did everything else. Staring blankly at the wall, you sniffle softly, not sure when exactly you had stopped crying. Or maybe you never had stopped in the first place, only just grown silent. Stretching his hands over his head, he lets out a long and loud yawn, his back cracking. Scratching at his balls with his hand, he pulls his boxers back on.
“Come on, time for bed, Mummy.” He yawns, “Tomorrow, we’re gonna spend the whole day together and you’re gonna show me what you can do with your mouth.”
-----
I am not trying to sound condescending at all, but I am asking if you ( the readers ) felt as though I put enough labels / warnings for this fic.
I want to make sure that this is enough so that people don't stumble upon this content and aren't aware it is dead-dove, as well as for any future fics that might contain dead-dove or more extreme content.
me, writing something consensual? what has the world come to? ALSO jimmy is fat in this thank u
synopsis: you’ve become jimmys first girlfriend, his mummy. you love making him feel special.
WARNINGS‼️: age play, bottle-feeding, diaper kink (only pee), watersports, cradle kink, piv, dacryphilia, oral on f, oral on m, body worship (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), face-sitting (m on top), anal fingering (m receiving), fluff, size kink, belly bulge, mommy kink
race neutral reader!
song:
early summer, it’s warm already. you’re in town with jimmy, getting some coffee.
your friends couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw that you and jimmy were together. it was supposed to be a joke, a dare. but here you are, his girlfriend.
you’re an odd couple for sure. you’re young and pretty, and jimmy is, well...
you took a liking to him from your first night together. he’s cute to you, in a weird way. then you fell for him. he’s really kind, really sweet.
you light yourself a cigarette as you walk towards the cafe. "can i get one?" jimmy asks carefully. "babies don’t smoke, silly", you answer. "please", jimmy says. "okay, fine", you say, handing him a cigarette and lighting it for him.
you smoke in silence for a while.
you spot a cute, bunny plushie at a store window.
"hey, baby, you want one?" you ask jimmy.
he nods.
”use your words, baby”, you say.
”yeah, i want one”, he says.
in the store, to your horror, you bump into your best friend.
"oh my god, hi!" she says, embracing you and jimmy.
"what are you doing here? don’t tell me you’re pregnant already", your friend says.
"we’re jus’ gettin’ somethin’ fer me niece", jimmy explains. you smile and nod, you’re glad jimmy was quick with it.
"aww, that’s so sweet", your friend says.
"so, how are you two doing? how’s the honeymoon phase?" she asks.
"it’s great, yeah", you say. you’re not lying. the sex is amazing.
"does she give you a hard time?" your friend asks jimmy.
"at times, yeah", jimmy chuckles. "but she’s good fer me", he adds.
you grab the bunny plushie.
"how old is she?" your friend asks jimmy.
"three", jimmy says. he’s not actually lying, he does have a three-year old niece, she’s his younger sisters newest child.
"i bet she’ll love it", your friend says with a smile.
as you exit the store you start laughing. "could you imagine her face if we told her?" you say. "i don’t think she’d get it", jimmy chuckles.
the cafe is full, it’s the weekend. you order a matcha for yourself and a black coffee for jimmy. even though he likes being your baby he still drinks coffee and smokes.
"d’ye wanna come tae my place?" jimmy asks you.
"i should study.." you sigh.
"c’mon, i know ye want to", jimmy says.
"yeah", you say, leaning on him. he’s so big and soft, perfect for holding onto.
you start making out in the elevator. it’s all fun and games until a neighbor sees you. an old lady, no less. you nod at her with an awkward smile and quickly go to jimmys apartment.
inside you start laughing.
"she already fucking hates me", jimmy giggles.
"hey, language!" you say.
"sorry, mummy", jimmy says, giving you another kiss.
"what are you gonna name her?" you ask jimmy, giving him the plushie.
"i donnae know yet", he says, placing the plushie on his bedside table.
"will ye- will ye do the thing?" jimmy asks shyly.
"you’re gonna have to work for it", you answer.
"i’ll do anything, please, mummy!" jimmy pleads.
"alright then", you say, peeling off your panties.
"kneel", you say.
jimmy obeys, kneeling down under your cunt.
"you know what to do", you say, lifting up your skirt.
jimmy nods and leans in on your cunt. he licks a slow stripe first, savoring you. he repeats it.
"stop teasing mommy", you say.
jimmy chuckles and gently nibbles on your clit, closing his lips around it. he starts sucking with a force so strong your legs start shaking immediately.
"fuck, that’s it, baby", you moan, grabbing his head, smushing it harder against your cunt.
jimmy whimpers and starts sucking harder, licking into you eagerly.
he takes two, ringed fingers and shoves them inside you, hooking them. you moan and squirt on him then.
he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, wet squelching filling the bedroom.
his lips never leave your clit as he sucks, slurping and moaning loud.
you come on his face then, thighs trembling. he swallows every drop of your fluids.
"stand up", you say.
he obeys.
you start peeling off his shirt, revealing his big belly and thick arms. then you kneel, pulling down his pants and boxers.
jimmy sits down on the couch, slightly spreading his legs.
you straddle him and kiss him. then you kiss his chin, his neck. you start kissing and sucking on his throat, leaving behind hickeys. jimmy’s letting out soft moans.
you descend, not stopping kissing him. you start sucking and licking on his nipples while grabbing on the soft rolls on his body.
you notice jimmy’s cock hardening against your crotch. "not yet, baby", you coo.
"please, mummy.." jimmy whines, squeezing his arms around you.
"shh, baby, be patient", you purr, continuing sucking on his nipples.
you descend more, starting to kiss on his soft, hairy belly. you love kissing it, it’s so soft. you grab more of his rolls and start sucking hickeys on his belly. jimmy lets out a whimper.
then you move down to his inner thighs. you tease him by placing soft kisses on them, slowly moving closer to his hairy hole. he never shaves.
"spread your legs for mommy, baby", you say.
jimmy obeys. he’s trembling from anticipation.
you lean in on his asshole, slowly licking through it. jimmy whimpers. you start drawing circles on his hole with your tongue, holding onto his thick thighs.
jimmy wraps his feet around your head, smushing your face harder against his hole.
you whimper, gagging a bit.
"p-put it inside, please, mummy", jimmy whines.
you do as he says, pushing your tongue inside his warm hole.
you start twirling it around his soft walls. jimmy’s moaning, some tears forming in his eyes.
you take your finger, gently rubbing it on his hole. then you push it inside, reaching his prostate.
jimmy lets out a pathetic whimper.
you start pumping your finger in and out of him, kissing on his round buttock while doing so.
jimmy starts jerking off, but you stop him. "no, jimmy, did i tell you to touch yourself?" you scold him.
"sorry, mummy", jimmy cries, some tears already rolling down his face.
"let mommy take care of it", you coo.
you continue fingering him as you wrap your mouth around his dick, making it reach your throat.
"mummy.." jimmy moans.
you start sucking on him, already tasting precum. he always comes fast, you have that effect on him.
the combination of your finger up his ass and your mouth around his cock is almost too much for jimmy, since he starts sobbing. it’s not exactly unusual for him to cry during sex.
"m-mummy, i cannae hold it it", he whimpers.
you start going faster, moving your mouth around his cock without stopping to breathe.
jimmy whimpers as he comes inside your mouth, spurts of salty cum pouring inside your throat. you gulp it all down.
"always so fast, baby", you say, kissing his inner thigh.
"sorry, mummy", jimmy cries.
”mama, can i have milk?” jimmy asks you.
”of course, baby”, you say.
”but let me put this on you first”, you say, getting out a diaper.
jimmy nods, laying on the bed.
you gently pull the diaper on him, he moans softly as you touch his skin.
he goes inside his cradle as you prepare the milk.
”there you go, baby”, you coo, putting the baby bottle inside his mouth.
jimmy starts eagerly drinking the milk, maintaining eye-contact with you.
he’s gulping it down wetly, making you hornier.
some milk remains at the corner of his mouth as he finishes.
”messy little baby”, you say, wiping it with your thumb. then you bring your finger to your lips. jimmy’s staring, clearly waiting for you to join him.
”mama, i wanna make love”, jimmy whines.
”oh?” you say. ”beg”, you demand.
”please, mummy, pleaseeee”, jimmy keeps whining, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes. ”i really wanna”, he adds.
”fine”, you say, climbing in the cradle with him.
jimmy immediately pins you down, going in for a kiss.
you jokingly turn your head. ”no kissing”, you tease him.
jimmy pouts, some tears in his eyes.
”please mama, i wanna kiss ye”, he whines.
you keep your head turned, so jimmy grabs you, forcing you to look at him.
”jimmy!” you giggle.
he ignores you and kisses you, loud and wet.
you let him push his tongue inside your mouth.
he’s moaning, licking into you like he’s starving.
”mama..” jimmy murmurs. ”i gotta pee”, he adds.
”sit on my face, baby”, you say.
jimmy nods, blushing. he climbs on top of your face and sits on it with the diaper still on.
then he starts peeing. you can feel the diaper getting wet, the pungent smell of piss filling your nostrils.
his weight is crushing you against the pillow, and his piss is leaking out the diaper on your face.
you gag, but he doesn’t let you breathe.
instead he takes the diaper off and starts grinding his asshole on your face.
you whimper and pat on his ass, but he keeps going.
he puts his asshole on your nose, humping your face.
your face is filled with his sweat and piss at that point.
jimmy moans and starts going faster, grinding his asshole on your face until you can’t breathe.
”jimmy stop!” you demand, you’re getting tired.
”b-but mummy..” jimmy whines, lifting his ass slightly.
”you heard me”, you say.
jimmy sighs and climbs off your face.
he pins you down again, looking at you almost apologetically. ”sorry mama..” he says.
”fuck me”, you say.
his eyes light up instantly. jimmy gives his cock a few pumps, then he lines up.
he starts pushing inside, your belly bulging as he bottoms out.
jimmy’s breathing hard, almost drooling on you.
then he starts thrusting. slow, steady thrusts at first.
”m-mama..” he moans, tears rolling down his face.
”shh, baby, don’t cry”, you coo, cupping his cheek.
but he can’t help himself. jimmy keeps sobbing while fucking you, his round belly slamming against yours.
”i love ye so m-much mummy”, jimmy cries, smushing his face against your neck.
”i love you too, baby”, you purr, kissing his hair.
jimmy starts kissing and sucking on your neck while slamming inside you, wet smacks filling the room.
he’s filling you up completely, his large frame covering your smaller one.
you feel overpowered in the best way possible. having a fat boyfriend has its perks.
jimmy lets out a loud, pathetic moan as he reaches deep, some precum already leaking inside your cunt.
you wrap your legs and arms around him, pulling him close.
he’s sweating, panting hard.
he moves from your neck to your lips to give you a desperate, wet kiss, lips smushed against yours.
he whimpers against your mouth and starts smacking his lips loudly against yours.
you’ve always found his kisses a bit gross, but there’s definitely something hot about it.
”m-mama, me tummy..” jimmy whines, pulling away from your lips.
”come on then”, you coo, kissing his forehead.
jimmy whimpers and buries himself deep inside you, you feel thick ropes of cum filling your pussy.
he crashes on top of you, not pulling out. he’s heavy, so you have a hard time breathing. but you don’t care, he’s your baby.
you’ve stopped counting minutes. the air feels thick, warm. it’s nearly summer, the evening sun is shining through the thin curtains.
you’ve tried breaking the door, no success. there’s always a jimmy outside, guarding you. you’ve thought about jumping from the window, but it’s the same problem. a jimmy.
they caught you running with your younger brother, spike. caught you easily, too. forced you to come with them to an abandoned house.
they made spike fight one of the jimmies. he managed to kill him, purely out of luck. so now he’s somewhere out there, in a blonde wig.
you didn’t get a wig. just an old, lace nightgown. they stripped you, washed you, and put the gown on you.
and now you’re waiting for spike to come in and save you.
the door opens. it’s not spike.
sir lord jimmy crystal, your captor.
he steps in, wearing that stupid fucking tiara. the rings and jewelry he wears are glistening in the sunlight. the upside-down cross he wears makes your skin crawl.
”miss me already, bonnie?” he says, walking up to your bed where you’re sat.
you instinctively lean back, but he’s quick, climbing on the bed and pinning you down.
you start squirming and kicking desperately, trying to put at least some distance between you and him. it’s no use, he overpowers you easily.
”shh, lovey, no use fightin’ now, or have ye already forgotten about yer wee brother?” he asks.
you freeze.
”aye, if ye donnae act sweet fer me somethin’ might happen tae him”, he says.
you feel tears forming in your eyes.
”aww, bonnie thing, none o’ that now”, he says, cupping your cheek.
”ye have an important task tae do”, he says.
you mewl, tears starting to pour down your cheeks.
jimmy hushes you and wipes your tears with his thumb.
”shh, lovey, ’s an’ important task! ye’re tae be me bride, the mama tae me wee lad”, he says.
”no, no!” you cry, shaking your head.
”aww, fussy wee babe”, jimmy coos, wiping more of your tears.
he presses a slow, wet kiss to your cheek. ”now.. first i gotta make sure ye’re all ready fer me”, he says calmly.
”gimme a kiss, bonnie”, he says, leaning in.
you immediately turn your head away from him, squeezing your lips shut.
”what did i say?” he asks with a frustrated tone. ”dinnae i say ye gotta act sweet fer me, or something might happen tae yer wee brother?” he adds.
you look at jimmy, slightly parting your lips.
”atta girl, now c’mere an’ kiss me”, jimmy says.
you gulp, but end up putting your lips on his. just slightly, but jimmy quickly leans in more, responding to your kiss hungrily.
”open yer mouth”, he mumbles against your lips.
you feel disgusted, but end up obeying him.
jimmy shoves his tongue inside your mouth, twirling it against your stiff one.
he’s moaning, eagerly licking into you.
then you feel it. his cock rubbing against your cunt through the fabric of his tracksuit bottoms and your nightgown.
you feel uncomfortable so you try to shift, but jimmy only deepens the kiss, grinding himself harder against you.
he starts rubbing his cock on your cunt, moving his hips against yours.
he whimpers against your mouth and bites your lower lip, smushing his face harder against yours. you let out a small noise, which seems to arouse him more.
he doesn’t part his lips from yours while grinding himself against you, but keeps on kissing you, drool pouring from the corners of his mouth.
”aye, ye’ll be a fine wee bride”, he mumbles against your lips, only to force you into another wet kiss.
he starts fondling your breasts, like he’s experiencing a woman’s body for the first time.
he finally parts from your lips with a loud smack and a line of drool connecting your mouths.
he starts sloppily kissing and sucking on your neck, leaving behind hickeys.
then he lifts up your dress, exposing your cunt and stomach.
you close your legs, but he immediately forces them apart.
”be a good lass now..” he murmurs.
he places a few, slow kisses on your belly before leaning in on your cunt.
he kisses both your inner thighs before inhaling, deep.
”ye smell so clean”, he sighs, almost dreamily.
then he does what you’ve been dreading. he licks. slow and savoring, up and down your folds. he repeats it until you’re practically shaking from anticipation.
”mmh, ye taste sweeter than sin”, jimmy says.
then his mouth crashes onto your cunt. he starts hungrily making out with your pussy, drooling all over it.
you whimper and try scooting away, but he’s holding you down.
he’s messy with it. smacking loudly, moaning, drooling. like you’re his last meal on earth.
he moves his lips to your clit, starting to suck on it gently. you let out a moan, pushing your head deeper into the pillow.
jimmy chuckles and takes two, ringed fingers and shoves them deep inside you.
you cry out from the sensation. he hooks his fingers inside you, starting to suck harder.
that’s when it happens, your fluids splash all over his face. jimmy moans and drinks it all up.
"s-stop", you cry.
jimmy just groans as a response and keeps on eating you, until your legs are shaking.
you squirt more, wetting up the bed. jimmy doesn’t stop, he seems to be encouraged.
he’s slurping loud, drinking up every bit of your fluids. his fingers are hitting deep, making you cry out in pleasure.
you feel yourself getting closer to your release. you desperately try to stop it, but the combination of his fingers and tongue is too much for you. you cry as you come on jimmy’s face and fingers.
jimmy chuckles and starts cleaning you up, swallowing everything. then he kisses your inner thigh.
"looks like ye’re all ready fer me cock, angel", he murmurs.
"no, no, please!" you plead with teary eyes.
jimmy ignores you as he starts pulling down his pants.
your eyes widen once you see his dick. it’s absolutely massive, nothing like you’ve seen before. long, thick and deep-red at the tip.
jimmy says nothing and lines up, like raping you is the most natural thing he could do.
"stop!" you try.
"shh, honey, be a good lass fer me", jimmy coos.
he starts pushing inside you, slowly. you whimper as he bottoms out.
jimmy lets out a moan, staying still, buried inside your wet cunt.
”ye’re so warm”, he says, planting a slow kiss to your temple.
he doesn’t move an inch, just keeps himself inside you.
”can’t you just go on with it?” you cry.
”shh, bonnie, ye gotta enjoy the moment”, jimmy coos.
you’re disgusted by him. his nasty teeth and greasy hair make your skin crawl.
he finally starts moving, slowly pulling out, only to slam back inside with a force so strong your legs shake.
you let out a whimper as he starts pounding you, wet smacks filling the room from his cock meeting with your cunt.
”aye, ye were fuckin’ made fer me”, jimmy pants. ”such a good lass, good girl, pretty wee thing”, he moans.
you just cry, unable to stop.
”so pretty when ye cry, bonnie”, jimmy purrs, kissing your cheek.
”fuck you!” you hiss through your tears.
jimmy frowns. ”watch that tongue”, he says.
he suddenly wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing hard.
you can’t breathe, so you desperately try to grab on his hand, but jimmy just grins.
he keeps choking you, squeezing harder with each thrust.
your eyes are watering, your head feels like it’s about to explode.
jimmy just chuckles and keeps going, holding onto your throat as he fucks into you.
you feel like you’re about to pass out, that’s when he finally releases you. you start coughing, your cheeks and eyelashes wet with tears.
”insult me again an’ i’ll keep goin’ till ye pass out, howzat?” jimmy says. ”an’ i’ll keep fucking ye after ye pass out”, he adds.
he starts going slightly faster, his cock throbbing inside you.
you hiccup, helplessly trying to scoot away, but jimmy keeps holding onto you.
”gonna breed ye so nice fer me, make ye a mama”, jimmy coos. ”a round belly and tits full of milk, that’s how ye were meant tae be”, he keeps fantasizing.
”no, please, i don’t wanna baby!” you cry desperately.
”ye will have many”, jimmy says. ”carry me seed”, he adds.
”can’t wait tae taste yer milk”, he purrs.
you can feel that he’s getting closer from the way he’s talking. he’s making himself more and more excited.
”fuckin’ good lass, so perfect fer me”, jimmy purrs, slamming his hips even harder against yours.
his cock is hitting your g-spot just right, making you cry out in pleasure. you hate having him see you aroused.
”aww, fuck, i’m gonna-”, jimmy groans.
then he slams inside you for one last time, burying his cock deep.
you feel hot spurts of thick cum pouring inside you.
you cry, feeling defeated and violated.
jimmy stays buried inside your for a while, then he gently pulls out. he makes you lift up your legs.
”good lass, ye’ll be pregnant sooner than ye know it”, he purrs.
”i’ll keep ye fed an’ warm, take care of ye”, he promises. ”ye won’t be leavin’, ever”, he adds.
”can i see spike?” you cry.
”that depends on how good ye’ll behave”, jimmy says.
”i’ll be good, please, i need to see him!” you bawl.
”shh, shh, donnae be fussy now”, jimmy coos.
”be a good lass an’ gimme a kiss then”, he says, puckering his lips.
you gulp, but end up putting your lips on his.
jimmy moans and grabs your cheeks, pulling you in an excruciatingly long and wet kiss.
you cry against his lips.
jimmy starts petting your hair as he kisses you, clearly attempting to comfort you.
”shh, shh, me wee babe”, he coos while pulling away from your lips.
he pulls his pants back up and cuddles you from behind, forcing you to stay in his arms.
”rest now, mama”, he purrs, gently kissing your temple.
you can’t help but just cry as jimmy pets you and gives you kisses.
The smell of sweat hung in the air in the stuffy makeshift gym.
Your muscles ached, your legs were giving out, and you were almost completely out of breath.
"Keep going."
You throw a quick punch to Lion's padded hand.
"That's it."
You duck one of his swipes.
"Nice, one more."
You gather all of the strength left in your body and throw a combo of jabs, ducking when you needed.
Heavy breathing fills the room.
"That was good, y/n. You're getting the hang of it." Lion says, removing his padded gloves.
"T—Thanks." you huff, on the verge of collapse.
You started training with Lion after he and his brother watched you get into a bar fight one night when they were on the road. You were down on your luck and didn't have anywhere to go, so when Lion suggested you stick with him and his brother, you decided to take your chances.
Lion's brother, Stan, wasn't a fan of the suggestion that you tag along with them on their journey, but you learned quickly to ignore whatever he had to say.
"Are we done for the day?" you ask, hoping that Lion will be kind enough to cut training short today.
Lion raises an eyebrow and stifles a laugh.
"Well, are we?" you prod, eyes full of exhaustion and hope.
Lion approaches you and flips you onto the mat below.
You two begin to wrestle around.
"If you can get out of my grip, we can be done, Tiger."
Tiger is what Lion called you now.
You could guess that Stan was the dopey "bear" of the group.
You had gotten the nickname after fearlessly arguing with Stan and putting him in his place after he had attempted to screw over Lion like he always did.
Lion had you in some kind of hold, his legs clumsily wrapped around your torso and his arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind. He wasn't holding you as hard as he usually did when he teased you like this.
Taking advantage of how softly Lion held his position, you twist your body within his grip. Your faces are almost touching when you finish moving.
Lion's eyes begin to search your face, his gaze landing on your lips for a moment and then flicking back up to your gorgeous eyes. His face flushes crimson.
The tension had been building ever since you'd met Lion.
You noticed the way that his hands lingered a little too long on the small of your back when guiding you, how he tenderly brushed your hair away from your face, and how he always playfully untied your shoelaces when you two were waiting for Stan to do whatever task he was doing.
Lion surely picked up on the subtle ways you expressed your interest as well. The way you helped him stretch when Stan was gone, tended to his injuries so delicately, and cooked for him whenever you scrounged up healthy groceries.
Lion's favorite thing you've ever done for him in the short time that you have known each other was sewing his name into a pink robe you stole from one of the hotels you all stayed at.
The air in the tiny, dingy gym shifted.
Still on top of Lion, you rub his nose with yours.
Embarassed of the cheesy thing you just did, you blush and mumble something about being sorry while attempting to get up.
Lion tightens his grip on your body and his lips meet yours.
You break away, slightly afraid of the changing dynamic between yourself and Lion.
"Lion… I—"
"Just kiss me… please." Lion whispers, bringing his face closer once again.
You give in to Lion's plea and kiss him deeper. Your hands cradling the back of his head as his hands slide down to your hips.
His kisses are salty sweet and gentle.
Lion breaks away from time to time to hum honey-coated praises into your ear and plant kisses on your neck.
"I've been waiting to do that for a while now, Tiger."
You laugh lightly into the crook of Lion's neck.
"So have I, Lion."
Lion was now hugging your waist firmly, and in one full motion he flips you on your back again.
"Aha, caught you off guard!" he laughs.
You can't help but laugh as you struggle under his weight while trying to break out of his hold.
Lion attacks you with more kisses.
The room fills with a palatable joy, every single worry and doubt that chronically plagued the both of you washing away with every touch and whisper of love.
You two continue roughhousing when the door to the gym flies open.
"Yo, kiddos! I've got food!" Stan obnoxiously shouts.
Both Lion and yourself groan as you collect yourselves.
When Stan turns his back to put the food down, Lion plants a kiss onto your cheek and gives you his best puppy eyes.
Hello! thank you so much for reposting the first chapter of Sharp Daggers. I’ve just published the second part. The description has not changed except for the title of the Chapter and an additional warning. Thank you so much again!! Greetings to all the team that makes this library possible.
Sharp Daggers (2/3)
Remmick x Witch! Reader
Summary. A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they’ve been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
Tags. Vampire x Witch Pairing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst-Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut. Warnings. Violence and blood, mentions of murder and mutilation, explicit sexual content. This chapter mentions a past attempted SA, no explicit descriptions.
Summary. A century old witch meets the newest danger of the Delta: Remmick the vampire. Two lonesome souls find eachother, mutually repelling and attracting simultaneously. Would they finally confess how lonely they've been? Would they allow themselves to ask for company?, for empathy?, for forgiveness?
Tags. Vampire x Witch Pairing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst-Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut. Warnings. Violence and blood, mentions of murder and mutilation, explicit sexual content. This chapter mentions a past attempted SA, no explicit descriptions.
Chapter 2/3 AO3 Previous
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
CHAPTER 2. KNIFE AND WOUND
The dream, no, the memory always starts the same. The man lay lifeless, bloodless, after hanging for hours. You spilled every drop over the drawing on the floor. The worst part? You feel no remorse whatsoever. He had evil inside and acted upon it. He deserved it, you said. He tried to hurt you, and you’ll do anything to survive, you poor little lamb. Only the Goddess can judge you, and she always protects you.
The marks on the floor started to shake and softly lifted you from the ground, there’s no escape this time. This time is definitive, you're receiving the ultimate gift and punishment, for your sin and your sacrifice, for this offering. That was the last time you breathed as a mortal woman, raised above from the man that tried abusing you, and died for it.
You woke up agitated, as any other time that you dream about it. Searching for comfort, you fixed a quick bath and your favorite breakfast. There was something else that could bring you comfort, yes. Yet there was no certainty as to when you were to see Remmick again, but you can also feel your heart skipping a beat only by thinking about it, he brings you relief like nothing else can, and that could be dangerous.
It is also a beautiful thing to hold on to, thanks to him you won't be alone ever again. Surely there’ll be times when he leaves, or maybe he resumes his travels, but he won’t grow old or abandon you. Remmick can offer you the certainty that there’s someone in the world to call a friend, no matter how many seasons and decades may pass. He’s becoming that place where you go when fear takes over.
Meanwhile, in the heart of the swamp an old and abandoned mansion was occupied by the very same vampire. Thinking about your latest encounter, he smiles without noticing. Smiles too whenever he thinks of your involuntary jokes and the nervousness you try to hide. His hunger for you is only surpassed by a renewed curiosity for other lifeforms: a witch is eager to help him. Oh, he genuinely smiles while dismembering his latest hunt.
The next time you saw each other was by accident; you were summoned by a group of men that were coming back from working in the fields. One of them fell terribly ill, no doctor was in sight. You were the closest help. The sun was setting and time was precious, you brought your plants and knowledge to the road where he passed out. But even pouring your heart and energy in his recovery you couldn’t do anything, Death already made her mind.
“I’m so sorry… it’s better if you let his family know”
“We’ll be back, could you please stay with him meanwhile?” said one of them, taking his hat off in sign of resignation.
“Of course, I shall keep him company.” You closed his eyes and put flowers into his hands.
It was common for witches, sorceresses and herbalists to answer the call of despair, and just as doctors, death was part of it. They say there’s no use crying, but every time you lose a soul you can feel a piece of your humanity dying with them. You can’t help the tears.
Your mourning was interrupted by a familiar voice, the warmest, the brightest you're ever known.
“Now, what do we have here?”
“Remmick… what are you-?”
“Aren’t you sharing, honey? I’m so hungry”
“That’s by far the worst joke you've ever done” You're quickly furious. Can't believe he dares being this disrespectful.
“Who said I'm joking, darling?” and then you saw him, really saw him. The darkness in his eyes, the thirst that many warned you about.
You can’t recognize this devil in front of you. Fangs ready to penetrate, claws about to rip you apart. This was a test, it must be, like in the fables whenever a malign force tried corrupting a lamb or rabbit, testing their limits. But there’s no malevolent being in front of you, it was your friend.
And he’s hoping for you to desert a man that just died in your arms, just for him to feed viciously. Just because he can take whatever he wants from you, could it be that he knows that you belong to him? That only a few encounters were enough for you to lend him your heart. But is your love really unconditional?
“HOW DARE YOU, MONSTER?” your tears and the yell startled him, you can feel your heart breaking.
“Now, now, why would you owe them anything? Why do you protect them? You’re closer to their gods than to them.”
“Don’t you speak of them as if they were things, they're still my people. You might have forgotten what it was like to be a human, I could never betray them”.
“Then you’re more stupid than what I thought. Humans made me this being you judge unwhorty.” he declared, hoping to break you the same way you did to him.
You kept the body of the man closer to you, challenging Remmick, your eyes two burning stakes, alive in fury.
“You’re going to push me away, sugar”
“Maybe it’s for the best…”
“If you say so.”
All inside you was screaming that this was a mistake, you were going to be sick, to decay. This has to be a nightmare, but you’re clearly watching him turn around.
“Wait… wait, don't go” You said in whispers full of tears he just couldn’t listen to. You should be feeling relieved, the devil himself tempted you, already owning your heart, yet you found your faith in humanity stronger. But you could only feel despair and abandonment.
When the family of the man arrived you barely gave your condolences and practically ran away. You locked yourself in your home, letting the hours pass. Morning came with you crying your eyes out. It was monstrous, the way you desired for him to knock your door, for him to tell him that was but a cruel joke, for him to laugh with you again.
Weeks passed and you survived barely by your decadent magic, the herbs in the garden started to die, the house from outside seemed abandoned. And the only person that could fix it only dared to look from afar, Remmick knew it was terribly wrong what he had done, his thirst blinded him. Yet not once before meeting you he wondered about the morality of his hunger. Maybe cruelty wasn't in his nature, was this regret?
Heartbroken and alone once more, Remmick’s hunting instinct called again. It hasn’t passed enough time since his last meal, but enough time since your last encounter, and hunger appears in many forms. This time your rejection only lighted his lust for blood, tonight it was far too much to bear. A deranged combination between thirst and desire woke inside of him. The ache that he felt before meeting you came back in waves even stronger. He needs to feed his senses with your sight and your voice, even if it’s forbidden.
He imagines he intrudes in your house, -he could do it anytime-, and takes you away. He pictures himself begging for forgiveness, crying in your chest, holding to your hips. You might yell about his monstrous nature, and he’ll accept any reproach you have ready for him. About his cruelty, his manipulative tendencies, his profound desire for blood… your blood. He’s willing to accept it all, as long as he can return to your side.
Instead, he admits he couldn't terrorize you by taking you by force, in the past he might just drink your blood and leave you to rot in your home. But you’re far too precious for him, if you hate him then he’ll do anything to earn your favor again. He wants you to humiliate him if that means absolution.
But for now, the hunting begins, a poor unlucky woman whose only sin was to look like you, -he’ll search for the same hair color, complexion and skin-, would pay for his sadness and desire tonight.
Was your closeness to humanity a way to absolve your crime? You have taken a life without remorse, justified even. Were you just as bad as Remmick? Was he even wrong when his very own nature was feeding on humans?
Deep down, you know the absolution you long for is either granted by the Goddess or by… him, the only creature that takes lives and -in your eyes- is justified. Only a creature like he could understand. Maybe that’s why you insisted on getting closer to him.
Tonight you decide you miss him enough to forget your pride and principles. You need to hear his voice, even if it ends up in a fight. You're tired of missing him, can’t quite explain why he means this much, only that his absence is killing you.
You can’t quite explain where this impulse of action came from, it’s almost as if his soul is calling you, and you’re merely answering, like possessed.
And so you made your way to the swamp, revisiting the steps you took that first night, the night you met him. The moon was bright and full and the air was almost cold, enough to make you shake. You’re thinking about how there’s no one on this Earth that owns your heart the way he does. Have you considered he’s perhaps your soulmate? You were about to debate it when you heard the voice of a woman and the unmistakable laugh of Remmick.
Stopping in your tracks, the image in front of you was unmistakable. You couldn’t see her face, only her back, but even so she seemed beautiful. Remmick looked… mesmerized. What is this grief that suddenly overwhelms you?
Remmick promised you were the only one close to him, then why does she approach him like that? “Why on earth would you bring me in the middle of nowhere, baby?” you heard her say.
“Only a precaution from prying eyes, honey” He called you that too.
You were clearly an invasor to their moment, so you ran away, not looking back, not once. You started to cry and did not understand why. That prevented you from listening to the rest of the scene:
Remmick called her by your name and held her with such strength and passion, imagining it was you.
“Say you want me”
“That’s not my name…”
“Hm… Wrong answer”
And with that he stabbed her with his claws, opening her neck wide. Drinking shamelessly from her. Crying silently for not being enough for you. For not being able to listen to you begging for him. For you not wanting him the way he wants you.
It took you years to create a life for you, a home. And now it seems like it slips from the tips of your fingers, all for a man, nonetheless. You felt like a fool, love has only brought you pain. But is this love? Can you love him after this? The worst part is that he has done… nothing.
Remmick, on the other hand, felt shame and guilt once the rush of his actions faded and realized it's been a couple of months since the last time you saw each other. The night of his latest hunt, once the girl laid at his feet, he realized she looked nothing like you, she lacked your smile and warmth. He damns himself for taking her life, he hates what he has done, and wishes for the swamp to eat him whole.
If you knew about what he has done, could you find the strength to forgive him? Remmick can almost hear you defending the girl from him, if you were there you would've protected her, he’s sure of it. If you knew the things he would do for you, would you love him still? Do you still love him?
It happened one summer night, none of you expected to meet again. You thought he had left the Delta a season ago, but he’s been starving himself, only hunting animals surrounding the place where You met, hoping to find you again.
That night you visited the swamp looking for wild plants, you decided enough was enough and tried to bring your garden to life once again. Alas!, you're making your way to the most treacherous places. Moonlight is so precarious, it’s almost as if you’re hoping to put yourself in danger, in case he’s there to protect you…
But hours passed and the swamp was indifferent to your presence, every animal and every plant kept their melodic harmony for themselves. The beauty that once surrounded you denies you entry. Your lamentations were interrupted when you fell over your face, after your left foot got trapped in a tree root.
Oh it hurt a lot! You’re sure you sprained it. You tried to break free so you could tend it. But the more you tried, the more it remained in the same place, trapped.
Suddenly, you hear steps, sounded like a big animal. Could it be a predator? Your magic! You need to hurry and conjure an enchantment. You’re about to cast a thunder when two familiar eyes appear in front of you.
Bright like hot coal, deep as the sea. Remmick looked at you like never before, he seemed… hurt.
None of you dared speaking. He approached slowly, like a hunter trying to get closer to a deer. He noticed immediately your state, there was no way you could run away. And he’s been so hungry…
His senses are screaming at him to jump, catch you, devour you. Your smell, his ruin. You didn’t realize when exactly, but you were sobbing. That caught his attention. Something in him is pulling his body closer, he needs to console you.
“I’m not going to hurt you, dove” he finally said, but you were far too scared.
“I mean it, hush darling. I'm here now, nothing’s gonna hurt you. Not even me.” You compulsibly pulled your leg but only made it worse, you screamed in pain.
“Oh, oh, oh, don’t, honey. Please.” There was no use trying to calm you down, so he decided to take the matter in his hands. With the softest of touches, he took your feet, twisted a bit and let you fall in his arms.
“Hush, now, dove. I’m here”
“Remmick… I thought I…” You finally said
“Don’t, darling, please don’t say a thing, I know. I’m so sorry” He caressed your hair and your face with an impossible tenderness.
“Could I allow myself to believe that someday you'd be able to forgive me, dove”
“Remmick, I’ve missed you so much” You confessed, you’re so angry and so sad with yourself for allowing this much time to pass without him. Damn your morals, damn your hopes.
“I was so wrong, darling”
“No, you were only trying to feed”
“I should’ve known better”
“I should have ask you to drink from me instead”
“Don’t say those things, darling. You don’t know what it means to a vampire like me.”
“I know that I shouldn't have let you go.”
“You really missed me, don’t you?” he tried to joke
“With all my life…”
Neither of you dared to break the embrace, but you were shaking. So he decided to lift you, like the night you met. “Let’s go home, dove.”
Maybe it was the mixed feelings, the relief and the complicity. But you related all about the man you killed trying to protect yourself and how you decided to sacrifice him in exchange for your eternal youth.
Remmick was shaken by the confession but somehow made him feel closer to you. To him, you can’t do wrong, he’d testify in your favor if you asked him to. But this new dimension in your story, he feels a deeper connection to you now. He’s your confidant now and your advocate.
Once you arrived at your cottage he entered with you still in his arms. He’s thinking that there’s nothing in this world that would convince him of letting you go. He's delighted with your warmth and smell, he just can’t stop thinking about your breasts lifting when you breathe, or the texture of your lips now that the tears ceased.
He has to make a supernatural effort to let you down in your bed.
“I won't let you go again, woman”
“Then don't leave now”
“I’ll come back soon, I promise”
He takes your arm and turns it so your wrist is at his disposal, and kisses it, feeling your heartbeat. You closed your eyes, feeling his lips and his doubts, he doesn’t want to scare you but needs to be closer to you at the same time.
“You know? I could get used to saving you” you didn’t hear quite right.
“I'm sorry, what?”
But when you looked again he was gone, or so you thought. He was looking from the line of trees in the back of your house. He saw you get up looking for him from the windows. After you gave up, he noticed you were changing into your nightgown.
Oh your skin looked so soft, so delicious. And the fabric of your dress adjusted perfectly to your figure. He can feel his heart beating on his throat and the pressure in his pants.
He’s just your friend, he needs to remember you just made amends and he must try to earn your trust again. But the image in front of him and his imagination are tempting him. The things he could do to you if you allowed him, if you asked him, if you begged him to. His lips still feel the electricity of the kiss in your wrist.
He started to drool, he needed to restrain himself. But punishment can come later, he now needs to find release, and he won’t make the mistake of trying to find you in other people again. He’ll touch himself, stroke, pull and caress thinking it’s all you.
He’ll find release thinking of your crying voice, imagining your moaning over his ministrations. He’ll make you cry from extasis and then dry your tears with his newly found tenderness. He’ll pour everything inside you. For all he is, belongs to you.
In ancient Ireland, you loved the farmer’s son, rough-handed, sharp-tongued and devastatingly handsome. Many years spent together while sneaking around, enjoying each other’s company and the endless nights of no sleep. One night, he pulled you deep into the forest away from everyone else to make you his entirely… that same night his entire world was destroyed.
a thousand and a half years ago you ‘died’ in a burning barn with his name still trapped behind your teeth and the silver ring he’d given you warm on your finger. Remmick woke up out of that fire alone and kept walking across centuries until he finds you again in a juke joint at Mississippi.
You don’t remember him but he remembers everything and he’ll cross a threshold uninvited, turn everyone on his sight and tear open his own chest to have you look at him and know him again. May the spirits help whoever stands between you and him when you finally do.
Or: the one where Remmick finds his lost husband reborn and the old spirits decide they’ve suffered long enough.
(Feel free to scold me if I did this wrong)
This has been catalogued, we appreciate you sending in both parts!
Summary: a thousand and a half years ago you ‘died’ in a burning barn with his name still trapped behind your teeth and the silver ring he’d given you warm on your finger. Remmick woke up out of that fire alone and kept walking across centuries until he finds you again in a juke joint at Mississippi.
You don’t remember him but he remembers everything and he’ll cross a threshold uninvited, turn everyone on his sight and tear open his own chest to have you look at him and know him again. May the spirits help whoever stands between you and him when you finally do.
Or: the one where Remmick finds his lost husband reborn and the old spirits decide they’ve suffered long enough.
Tags: Male reader. No use of Y/N for the reader. Reincarnation. Remmick Is Obsessed (He's Allowed). Past Character Death. Vampirism. Blood Kink. Canon-Typical Violence. Memories Returning Through Touch. Old Irish Endearments. Blood Pact Marriage. Possessive Remmick. Hurt/Comfort. Flirting. Kissing. Make out sessions. Intimacy. Established relationship. Various highly suggestive moments. Mutual Pining Across Centuries. Temporary character death. Happy(ish) Ending
ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 - 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 1
Words count: 9300
Music comes up through the floorboards before it ever reaches your ears proper, a steady thrum that felt like a second heartbeat buried somewhere beneath your ribs, settling into your bones.
Fiddle, guitar, a voice you don’t quite recognize yet bombarding the inside of your head, everything tangled together with laughter and warmth sensations building inside your chest.
Pausing just outside the juke joint, one hand resting against the rough wood of the outer wall at viewing how lit warm and gold from inside it is, lamplight spilling out through the cracks, Smoke curls from the chimney, carrying the scent of alcohol embodied by the humid air of the night.
There was still that same quiet, gnawin’ thing that’s followed you near your whole life.
Like you’re standin’ on the edge of rememberin’ something you never lived.
It hits a bit everyday, stronger whenever music reaches your ears.
You don’t linger on it long.
“Boy, you plannin’ on standin’ out there all night, or you comin’ in?”
The voice snaps you back quick enough and you glance over your shoulder to see one of the twins, red hat in hand and leaning half out the doorway, grin already crooked.
Hard to tell which one at a glance if you ain’t payin’ attention.
“I see y’ ain’t lost the thin’ of daydreaming,” he adds.
“Happens all the time I get annoyed, lucky me y’all have gotten patient on me.” Huffing under your breath while pushing off the wood.
He snorts, stepping back to let you in. “Ain’t no one here got patience for you. C’mon.”
Inside, the juke joint is packed tight and it’s full of movements between shoulders touching one other along bodies moving, laughing, shouting over one another.
Air’s thick with smoke and bottles clinking, boots scuffing the floor in uneven rhythm.
This is the first time the place had been inaugurated after being taken by the twins after they had returned in here and nobody seemed to question your presence.
Not with the twins vouching for you since you were all half-grown and running wild through fields with nothing but scraped knees and bad ideas.
“Took your sweet time,” Smoke says while appearing at your side, bottle already in hand and pressed halfway into yours before you can protest.
“Had to make sure the place was still standin’,” you mutter.
He grins. “Ya got doubts? With us runnin’ it?”
Burns go down as the liquor travels down your throat in a familiar pattern.
Still, that feeling doesn't leave, it has never gotten worse since tonight.
You end up near the edge of the main floor, close enough to the band to feel the music but far enough to stay out of the crush of dancers.
That’s usually where you liked to settle, half in and out. Watchin’ more than joinin’, it’s just a habit.
Truth is, sometimes it feels like you’re lookin’ for something, you just don’t know what.
Sammie’s up there tonight, recognized him quick with that guitar in hand even between the constantly shifting crowd.
From afar you can see Mary stepping into the smoky light of the juke joint and you knew right away what was about to erupt.
Soft lamplight dances over wooden floors, and the low hum of conversation starts to fade around you.
Her gaze sweeps the room until she’s stopped by Sammie at a corner table.
Sammie leans forward, voice dropping to what you could only guess being how she shouldn’t be here.
Her posture unwavering and already on the process to insults him about getting the fuck out of her face but he kept going before she could move to the side, continuing about how he was with the twins.
She realizes he was little Sammie and steps a little closer, takes hold of his hand and together they move while you tried to focus your earring to their conversation alone till they reached the bar ordering and she quickly ordered two wiskyous.
That was the only thing you could hear, now forced to obey simple overhearing and reach them as you saw the two tall twins approach them.
Stack arrives and soon speaks saying “Come on, let’s go”
“I’m not here for you” Mary stayed firm in her place.
“Then why you hittin’?”
“I came here for the blues.” Mary diverted her gaze to the side like you’ve learned she’d always do when showing hurt.
“They play the blues just fine in Arkansas,” he took hold of her arm and began moving her towards the exit.
“Wait Stack—“ Immediately you reached up, “come on don’t be so mean.” Tried to intervene to not let whatever was going on between them take an even uglier look but he seems unbothered by your attempt to calm down the waters.
An hand gripped your shoulder and your gaze was met with Smoke’s one, he didn’t yank or bark a word but you still moved when Smoke guided you by the shoulder till you and Smoke reached the corner of the bar and observed from afar, wood beneath your forearms was sticky with rings of spilled drinks.
Sammie had taken up his guitar again, his voice pouring out into beautiful song words that bled through the joint.
Conversations dip and laughter softens, a smile growing on your face when you’ve seen Annie come to take the man right next to you.
When they did checked real quick to see if you’d tag along, you gave a quick dismissal with your hand ‘cause that strange sensation came back again, only difference being tha’ it now hurts.
There’s a flicker of disappointment in their face but they’ve apparently expected that as they reluctantly went to dance deeper into the place and you observed both of the twins dance with the person they loved.
A pull in your chest sharp enough it makes your breath hitch.
For a second you swear you can smell smoke that ain’t from the lamps or hear wind where there ain’t none.
Suddenly the juke joint don’t feel like Mississippi no more.
For a flicker of a second there’s a great bonefire right ahead, towering flame against a black sky.
Old and slow drums echoes inside your ears, feet stomping dirt and voices rising together in a language you don’t know but somehow understand.
There’s a large forest far ahead you feel nostalgic for, smoke curling up into the night.
Your own hand are slick with something warm and there’s another set of hands holding them tight.
A low and extremely close voice right in your ear whispering words you can’t catch, but a feeling that hits deeper than sound.
Turning your sight to the side, there’s the shape of a face millimeters away from your own along something that sits low in your chest and refuses to move, belonging.
Shadows are twisting across the juke joint walls and your chest tightens hard to the point it almost hurts.
Staggering back a step, then another as the room feels too small and loud now, all the walls of the place are gone for half a heartbeat and replaced by large trees with the sound of water rushing nearby
Pushing through the crowd without thinkin’, breath uneven and jaw tight the more a headache threatens your wellbeing, until the night air hits you cold and unexpected outside.
Out there, near the edge of the door everything goes quiet but that feeling don’t leave.
Sliding down against the corner of the entrance until your behind is down onto the cold wood, you don’t even realize Cornbread’s presence there until he’s fully leaning down close enough to let heat radiate to your crouched form.
“Hey—hey, watcha got goin’ on? Y’ want me to call the twins?”
Glancing up at him you haven’t even realized the wet sensations scattered now all over your cheeks from unnoticed tears that slid down.
“M’ good,” you mumbled, trying to wipe the unwelcome wetness on your face. “Probably drank too much, need some air.”
All the giant man did was nod with no much conviction but respected your words either way.
Gazing at your left towards the entrance of the place, you observed everyone else dance and have the time of their life.
“Hi! We heard tale of’a party.”
The voice cut clean through the thick wall o’ sound spillin’ outta the juke joint, slippin’ right past the fiddle an’ the stomp o’ boots inside.
It settled behind your sternum quicker than liquor ever had, horribly familiar.
That unease you’d been carryin’ round your ribs the whole damn night had cracked open behind your eyes’ inside, answered.
Somethin’ deep in your chest leaned toward it without askin’ permission and the hair along your forearms stood itself straight up beneath the thin fabric o’ your sleeves.
“Ye wouldn’t mind us comin’ in, now, would ye?” An accent while the man spoke towards Cornbread was a drawl you’d heard anywhere round these parts.
Cornbread was already sayin’ somethin’ back, his big body a wall of heat near your side, but the sound o’ his voice blurred out because your head had already turned, pulled toward the voice, chin lifting off where it had been bowed against your chest.
He stood maybe eight feet off, just shy o’ the patch o’ lamplight spillin’ out the open door, the rest o’ the world softened behind him into night-blue an’ the silhouettes o’ two others stood a pace behind, one on either side o’ him.
Dark hair, damp at the roots an’ curlin’ against his temples like he’d been walking a lot, fringe stuck t’ the smooth plane of’ his forehead, flushed faint pink beneath the sweat. The top two buttons o’ his white shirt undone, generous enough to show the pale column o’ his throat an’ just a sliver o’ chest beneath.
Suspenders drew a lazy pair o’ lines over a chest tha’ looked broad even beneath the loose drape o’ his shirt. He had the build o’ a man who’d seemed to work hard fields.
A silver chain sat against the hollow o’ his throat, restin’ half on skin an’ half on damp shirt, catchin’ the lamp glow every time his chest rose.
You swore your eyes linger on that little piece o’ metal a second too long, almost recognizing it before your mind did.
His mouth was curved in half-amusement but it was when his gaze drifted past a retreating Cornbread that went to alert the twins, landing on your face tha’ somethin’ in him cracked.
That lazy amusement fell right off his mouth, lips parting slightly an’ that practiced charm emptied outta his eyes by recognition and ache.
His throat worked as he swallowed, silver chain catching the light again.
“Mo chroí,” words tumbled soft an’ quick out o’ him, intimate like he’d forgotten there was anyone else standin’ on the porch at all.
Somethin’ about them lifted the hairs at the back o’ your neck, not one syllable was comprehensive.
He took a step forward, then another before strangely stopping near enough tha’ you could see the lamplight catchin’ on individual lashes and smell the faint damp o’ his hair.
He’d halted right at the edge where the spillin’ light o’ the juke joint ended an’ the inside began, lip o’ the threshold as if somethin’ invisible had drawn a line across the doorway.
His weight shifted slightly, one boot planted half a finger’s width outside, not looking away from you at all.
“‘Scuse me?” You finally managed, an’ your voice came out thinner than you wanted, bleedin’ confusion right through the seams of it. “I, uh — I don’t…”
You shook your head, tried again, but no better words came and the corners o’ his mouth pressed together, brows drew together in the center as an undeniable confusion crossed them like he couldn’t fathom you not knowin’ him, fingers twitched once at his side.
The need in his face opened as a wound because he wanted to be closer an’ he was doin’ nothin’ whatsoever t’ hide it.
His mouth lifted a fraction, the flustered spread o’ pink creepin’ up your neck clearly noted and enjoyed.
“Ye don’t remember me, sweetheart?”
Gentle and careful, watchin’ any tiny flicker tha’ might prove you did.
Your mouth dried up entirely, pulse ticking all wrong against the base o’ your throat.
“I—” you started, then stopped. Glanced down briefly, caught the shine o’ tha’ silver chain on him again an’ yanked your eyes back up before he could notice again. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t reckon I do. We met somewhere before?”
Strangely, you noticed tha’ the usual tightness tha’ sat in your chest since forever had loosened some. Not gone.
“Truly we ain’t,” you went on, stumblin’, “and I apologize for it if we have, mister, I—my head ain’t been right tonight.”
Somethin’ moved behind his eyes, near-boyish pleasure as a slow smile started pullin’ at one corner of his mouth an’ he dipped his chin a little.
“Would you believe me if I told you I worked m’ land the whole damn day?”
“Sir?” You blinked.
“Livestock gave me a hell o’ a time,” he went on an’ the corner o’ his mouth kept curlin’, like he was tryin’ to hold back somethin’ an’ failin’. “Stubborn beasts, the lot o’em. I am half-dead on m’ feet an’ I was only hopin’ tha’ there mighta been someone kind enough t’offer a weary man somethin’ t’ drink.”
The words landed right in a chamber o’ you tha’ hadn’t been opened in so long, breath caught halfway up your throat at the flirt hidden in it.
When he said those words to you in his first ever attempt to have a conversation with you after one many days of just staring in silence far away a thousand of years ago when he was a lad working the land along his father.
Whatever commission his dad sent him to do to the village, he’s always had a chance to stare at you writing alone by yourself until he finally made his move.
He remembered exactly what you had said to him.
“Ye don’t look tha’ tired to my eyes, farmer-lad.”
“May I say, y’ ain’t tha’ tired to my eyes, farmer.”
Whatever careful ease he’d been holdin’ onto cracked right down the middle, lips parting around a breath tha’ didn’t quite make it into a laugh.
One hand came up, drifted towards his own mouth without purpose, knuckles brushin’ his lower lip before fallin’ away again, Adam’s apple bobbing once hard, silver chain at his collarbone lifted and’ settled with the motion.
“Aye,” he breathed, almost laughin’ now and he took another step forward.
Your heart kicked so hard it half-jumped into your throat, you thought it strange tha’ a man who seemed like he wanted nothin’ more than to close the distance between the two o’ you was holdin’ himself a careful step shy o’ the wood beneath your feet.
His gaze slid slowly down the length o’ you, unhurried, warm, an’ back up, lingerin’ a breath too long on your mouth, an’ whatever he saw there made him wet his own lips without thinkin’.
Your face went hot and his smile widened a hair.
Oh, he’d always loved tha’. Tha’ moment when you glanced away an’ the pink crept up your ears.
A thousand years an’ he still knew how to find it, smugness eased into his mouth.
“D’you mind us comin’ in, darlin’?”
It was sweet and it took you a second to even register the ‘us’, eyes flickering past him an’ only then did you truly register the two others behind him. A man an’ a woman both very still, they hadn’t said a word this whole time.
A chill went up your spine an’ you couldn’t have said exactly why.
When your eyes slid back to him, his own were already waitin’, patient and unblinkin’.
“I—uh…” your voice came out a scrape. you cleared it. “I wouldn’t mind y’all here, no.”
Somethin’ lit up in him at tha’, the tiniest lean forward and hope so plain on his face it near broke somethin’ inside of you.
Two hands on each of your shoulders that sent you back a full step before your brain caught up to your body, stumbled backward into the wedge o’ space they’d made fer you behind them.
The twins had come up and you’d missed it clean because the whole world had narrowed to the man at a threshold.
Behind them, Cornbread had already drifted back a pace, an’ you caught a glimpse of’ Annie’s sharp watchful eye past Smoke’s shoulder, Mary half a step behind her, Sammie’s guitar silent for once.
In the space o’ a blink the expression of the man had changed, gone was the soft flustered boy-charm, a thin cold thing had slipped into the place of all o’ it.
His eyes had flicked down to the hands on your shoulder, an’ stayed there longer than was friendly. The fingers o’ his right hand, curled inward slightly.
You could’ve sworn, for the space o’ a second, tha’ the blue o’ his eyes had shimmered redder beneath, a faint ember that disappeared the second you blinked.
“Ye fellows must be the owners o’ this establishment,” he said, tiltin’ his head politely, voice calm.
“That’s right,” Smoke said, flat and quiet. “An’ y’ are?”
“Oh, we’re just travelers, is all. Come t’ play a bit.” Remmick’s smile widened. “Here. I’ll show ye.”
Without another word, in one quick easy motion all three o’ them swung banjos round from behind their backs. you hadn’t even clocked they were carryin’ ‘em.
They settled the instruments into their hands and began, music pouring out bright and his eyes were on you the whole time.
Stack’s boot started tappin’ before he could stop it, head bobbing twice to the beat.
Remmick opened his mouth an’ started singin’, an’ the accent slipped into the melody, something you could have sworn had heard before.
His gaze found yours mid-verse and he winked, causing you to forgot to breathe and face to go hot clean down to your collarbone.
“That’s enough.” Smoke’s voice cut through the song before it reached half its performance. “Y’all can’t come in.”
Remmick let the silence settle an’ then, slow, tilted his head at Smoke and Lord help you, there was somethin’ so damn adorable about tha’ tilt o’ his head and wrinkle between his brows tha’ your stomach did a small cruel flip.
“We ain’t lookin’ fer trouble,” he said with open disappointment.
“We’re just tired, sir.” He brushed his fingers along the line o’ his jaw in one slow lazy drag, thumb gliding up underneath his chin an’ back down.
“Hungry as dogs.”
Behind him, the man gave a single loose bark. “Woof, woof.”
An’ then laughed, joined by the woman.
His fingers stroked along his jaw a second time like he was thinkin’.
“An’ anyhow,” he said. Soft. Careful. “We wouldn’t be strangers in yer house. Not entirely.”
His eyes flicked back to you then, full-on, an’ tha’ smile shifted again, softer and intimate.
“Was only hopin’,” he said, an’ tha’ accent curled warm around every word, “t’ find a place to rest these tired bones o’ mine.”
His head dipped a little lower.
“Somewhere warm, like.” The corner o’ his mouth liftin’ and blood rushed to your face while the damn man just kept smilin’ at you.
Smoke spoke out the side o’ his mouth while barely gazing at your side.
“Ya know this white man?”
“I—” Your mouth went dry. “I don’t, Smoke. I don’t know him.”
Missing entirely the way Remmick’s eyes went darker because you were too busy tryin’ to keep your voice from crackin’.
Smoke didn’t move.
“Y’all can’t come in,” he said again, firmer this time and immovable.
Remmick let his gaze sit on Smoke for a long quiet beat, fingers drifting down off his jaw an’ hooked light through the strap o’ the banjo at his chest.
“Well,” he said at last, somethin’ hollow sat low in the middle o’ the word. “Reckon we’ll be movin’ on, then.”
His eyes cut to you one last time and he held you there, plain an’ open.
“But we’ll go slow, mind,” he murmured, still lookin’ at you. “Just in case ye change yer minds.”
Somebody pressed a glass into your hand on the way to a stool, you didn’t see whose hand or voice, just sat where your legs finally decided they’d had enough o’ carryin’ you, elbows landin’ heavy on the bar top.
Wood was sticky under your forearms with old rings o’ spilled beer while you lifted the glass and drank, alcohol sliding down the same way it always did, but the heat behind your ribs originated from the man you’ve met before.
Sweetheart. Mo chroí. Darlin’.
The accent kept curlin’ back behind your ears and you couldn’t shake it loose.
Somewhere further down the place, Stack was talkin’ to Mary but you couldn’t hear the words clean. They’d been at it, on an’ off, since she’d walked in tonight and it wasn't none o’ your business, only sometimes your ear caught a fragment o’ it without meanin’ to.
Not long after you saw Mary walk toward the door with her shoulders pulled up an’ her chin set.
All you did was just drink again and your head fell as pictures came.
They’d been comin’ all night in flashes, ever since the porch, an’ they kept gettin’ bolder.
A fence, hammer ringin’ and a mouth on yours tha’ tasted like iron nails.
Your own fingers wrapped round a bigger hand, guidin’ a stick o’ charcoal across rough bark.
Clean water of a river runnin’ fast over stones, somebody’s deep laugh rolling up outta a broad chest, laughter aimed at you as you were laughin’ too.
A hand cuppin’ water an’ tossin’ it at your chest, making shivers run down your spine followed by curses forming in a tongue you didn’t own.
A bonfire so tall the sparks looked like stars flyin’ upward to join their cousins.
Plain ring on your finger, two small words tha’ you still somehow knew what they could mean.
Blood in hay turnin’ it rust-colored in streaks.
Please. Don’t leave me alone.
A roof collapsin’.
You jerked so hard the glass knocked over at your elbow, a thin wave o’ whiskey spread across the bar top an’ ran toward the edge which you barely caught sloppily with the heel o’ your hand.
“Scoot, now. Gimme room.”
The pink dress slid into the stool next to you before you’d even lifted your head.
Turning your face slowly toward it, you saw Mary settling beside you with a soft little huff, smoothin’ the fabric across her knees, perfume wafting up.
Somethin’ in the air at her side was cooler.
“Hey, you,” she said before smiling, further playing into your confusion since she never paid much attention to you.
“Mary,” you said, careful, because your heart was still scramblin’. “Thought you was outside.”
“Was,” she said and waved a hand, vague. “Got cold so came back in.”
“Stack lookin’ for ya?”
“Always.” She rolled her eyes and somethin’ in your chest eased half a notch at seein’ it. “Man can’t keep himself occupied for two minutes without knowin’ where I’m at.”
You tried to smile and answer her warm one as she leaned an elbow on the bar and tipped her head toward you.
“Y’ alright, honey?” she asked. “Ye lookin’ pale, sittin’ here all by y’self.”
“I’m fine,” you said, quicker than was honest.
She hummed, a little noise o’ you’re-a-bad-liar-but-I’ll-let-it-pass.
Her eyes were on your face only and maybe a flicker to the hollow o’ your throat before snapping back up to your eyes.
“He was right handsome,” she said, light, teasin’. “Wasn’t he?”
Your face did the hot thing again up-the-neck thing.
“Oh,” she said, pleased, a girl catchin’ a girlfriend out in somethin’. “Oh, honey. Yer deep in jt.”
“M’ not,” you mumbled.
“He was handsome, though. M’ not right?” She asked softer now and no longer teasin’, eyes on yours steady as a lamp flame in still air.
“He was indeed,” you admitted quiet.
“Y’all know each other?”
“No,” you said. Then “…No. I don’t think so.” Shifting on the stool.
“Where you from again, honey?” She asked like she hadn’t known you since getting together wi’ Stack.
“…Mary, ya know where I’m from.”
“Oh, hush, I’m just talkin’. Here, humor me. Where were ya born?”
Replying back how it was the same town as hers, she nodded along like it was news.
“An’ your mama’s folks, where’d they come up from?”
“What’re ya askin’ all this for?”
“I’m just makin’ conversation,” she said lightly. “Ain’t nothin’ to get cagey about. A woman can’t sit next to an old friend an’ talk about fam’ly?”
Somethin’ in your gut clenched an’ you didn’t know why.
“You been actin’ strange.”
She turned to you full on then. An’ tha’ smile came out wider, prettier, so pretty it hurt to look at her straight.
“I’m just curious.” She said an’ reached out an’ put her cool, cool hand on your wrist where it lay on the bar. Her skin against yours was the temperature o’ an apple left out on a porch in October. “C’mon baby, don’t be stingy.”
Her eyes flicked down your face and the hollow o’ your throat where your collar sat open, a little bead o’ spit had gathered at the corner o’ her mouth.
Her eyes jerked back up to yours too fast. Somebody had yanked her gaze up outta the dip it had sunk into, yanked it hard by a leash you couldn’t see an’ her smile patched itself back over the crack in an instant.
“Mary, there you are.” Stack’s voice cut through the space, shoulders hunched up under his jacket, his eyes on Mary an’ only her.
“I been lookin’ all over for you,” he said to her slowly while sliding in between the two o’ you easily.
“I was just talkin’,” Mary said, pretty as pie. “Me an’ yer old friend here, catchin’ up.”
Stack’s eyes darted to you and the look between the two o’ you was identical of a what-the-hell-is-goin’-on.
“Come on, sugar,” he said, layin’ a hand at the small o’ Mary’s back. “Let’s talk.”
She sighed and slid down off the stool, her head turned back toward you and she smiled with all her teeth, a wet sheen on them.
“I had a nice talk,” she told you. Voice sugar. “Didn’t we, honey.”
“…yeah.”
She let Stack steer her away into the crowd till both of their bodies got swallowed up by dancing bodies as the band rolled into the next song.
Out beyond the floor, through a parted elbow an’ shoulder, you caught a glimpse of’ Mary an’ Stack dancin’ proper close. Her pink dress flush against the front o’ his jacket, cheek a breath from his mouth.
And between one blink and the next, the juke joint folded up.
In the same space, there was a field o’ tall yellow grass brushin’ the waist o’ a lad, an’ a dirt path with a fence line with a man bent over it cursin’ round a mouthful o’ nails.
You could see the sweat on his tunic where it clung to his back, calloused hand swingin’ a hammer and a crooked grin tha’ cracked across his face when he caught sight o’ you.
Your own younger hand reached out an’ took a nail outta his without askin’ an’ he kissed you in the next heartbeat, mouth warm an’ tastin’ like iron, an’ your palms cupped the scrape o’ his scruffy jaw.
Your breath came outta you in a shudder tha’ near knocked you off the stool, pressing the heel o’ your hand to your eyes.
Somethin’ was wrong with you tonight and ain’t-drunk-enough-to-explain-this.
Mary an’ Stack had drifted off the main floor into one o’ the back rooms on the far side, the little ones tha’ had a door you could close.
Across the floor, past a knot o’ dancers, Smoke’s head had come up, Annie was at his elbow, one hand on his arm, already sayin’ somethin’ low into his ear as they moved together with Sammie behind before reaching the same door.
Loud gunshots cracked the atmosphere and the laughters stopped, replaced by screams.
You were off the stool before you knew you’d stood, moving against the current of folks scramblin’ toward the front door, backin’ away from the back o’ the joint, and you were shoulderin’ through ‘em the other way.
Once you’ve reached the splintered doorframe, Mary had bursted through it, the pink dress now soaked in blood, mouth open and smeared in red while grinning with deeply yellow eyes, bright worse than a coyote caught in a lantern in a dark field.
“Oh, honey. He’s been waitin’ so long fer ya.” She sang, gigglin’ right after turning on her heel an’ ran, bloody footprints slappin’ a trail out across the floorboards.
Inside, the juke joint was now a wreck o’ stillness.
Where there had been fiddle an’ stomp an’ laughter a minute past, now there were just a couple of traumatized people.
Stack was on his back on the floorboards, shirt discarded and remaining in a simple white tank top, no light on his eyes.
Annie had a hand on his shoulder, sayin’ somethin’ low tha’ was for him alone, words you couldn’t hear, words your ears refused to land on while Sammie’s guitar strung over his back, eyes big an’ shinin’ at the loss of his cousin while Pearline was halfway down on her knees against the wall o’ the hall, a hand pressed flat over her own mouth.
You stood where your feet had stopped you, about three paces back, starin’ at the edge of the exit where Stack’s once dead body had come back to life and sprinted outside right after Annie baptized him with some oil and garlic that caused his skin to hiss and show fangs identical to the ones Mary had.
Through the shuttered window, thin at first, a voice started up outside, clear and musical, accent wrapped round the syllables thick.
“In the merry month of June, from me home I started—”
The first verse rolled out easy, bright and playful as he sang, a clap started up on the first offbeat, all out in the dark beyond the shutters, boots started stompin’ somewhere.
“—left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted—”
Your breath went outta you in a long slow pour as the juke joint went away.
One second you were standin’ on sticky floorboards with Annie’s hand a foot off your elbow an’ Sammie’s breath loud in your ear, the next you weren’t in Mississippi and those clothes of yours.
Elsewhere entirely, warm all over that started at the deep core o’ you, twisted half off the ground where hay was scattered everywhere, thighs achin’ sweet an’ loose and stretched out there was someone on his back, chest risin’ slow an’ fallin’ slower.
He was naked to the hip an’ the linen was thrown careless across his thighs an’ you had, with the last o’ your strength, come to rest with your cheek propped on the meat o’ his upper arm.
His skin was warm, chest sheened with sweat and a single drop o’ it was still travelin’ down the line from between his collarbones toward his sternum as you watched, hair dark and curls stuck to his forehead in uneven strands, mouth open a little, lips kiss-bruised an’ red, blue eyes were half-lidded but heavily fixed on you.
In a blur, you remembered him over, under and behind you, his mouth on the nape o’ your neck an’ the animal sound he’d made into it like low rough growl.
Memories of the heel of your foot against his tight but sturdy back, pushin’ him in, his voice had broken round your name and the same two syllables you’ve heard before of another language.
Big an’ callused hand on your jaw, turnin’ your face up to his so he could watch you while he finished you, laughin’ right after against his mouth because it had been somethin’ you both had said so many times now tha’ it had turned into a joke between you two.
“Come here,” he said and you pushed up on your elbow an’ leaned.
His mouth opened for you before you got there, kissing him slow. Lips soft and warm, taste o’ him salt an’ a hint o’ the ale you’d shared earlier while he made a low pleased sound into your mouth an’ his hand slid from your chin round to the back o’ your neck, big an’ warm as he kept you there, kissing you back deeper.
You broke the kiss to breathe and he didn’t let you get far, catching your lower lip softly between his teeth first, then opened his mouth an’ kissed you again, pullin’ you in by tha’ hand on the back o’ your neck.
When you pulled back a second time, laughin’ soft, he made a displeased noise an’ chased.
“Greedy,” you breathed against his mouth.
“Aye,” he said.
“You’ve already had me twice.”
“Thrice.”
“Thrice, then—”
“An’ I’m lookin’ t’ make it four, if ye keep puttin’ yer mouth on me like tha’.”
You laughed into his jaw and he laughed back, arm coming ‘round you an’ he rolled you half onto him, bare chest against his own bare chest, thigh sliding warm between his as he kissed you again, slower an’ longer as you let him.
Blinking down at him where he lay beneath you on the hay, hair a tangle and blue eyes blinkin’ up at you with a perfect mixture between love and hunger, chest risin’ in a slow deep rhythm.
“Hold on,” you said.
“Hm?”
“Hold still, I’ve got a thing.”
You pushed yourself off him and he groaned in a long sufferin’ way, dropping his arm across his eyes. “Ye can’t be serious. Come back down here, I’m not done wi’ ye.”
“Ye are fer tha’ moment, lie still.”
You crawled on the hay, naked as you were born, and rummaged in the basket at the foot o’ the bed fer the strip o’ parchment you’d been keepin’ for fool tunes like these.
Coming back wi’ it and a nub o’ charcoal as you straddled low on the thicker side of his thighs, balancing the strip o’ parchment flat against the hard plane o’ his abdomen.
“Yer usin’ me,” he said, deadpan.
“Exactly.”
“There’s a desk right there.”
“I know, thought ye could be o’ some use after all tha’ ye just did t’ me.”
“Aye, ’twas very nice moments, wanna repeat ‘em?”
“Maybe. Hush now.” He laughed at your answer that shook his stomach under the parchment an’ the charcoal skittered.
“Hold still,” you said.
“I am—” His abs tensed to flatten themselves fer you, shiftin’ under the skin, an’ the charcoal skipped again an’ drew a wobbly line clean across what was meant to be a D.
“Yer not.”
“It tickles!”
His laugh shook the makeshift table you’ve made of him and ruined the line entire. You shoved at his shoulder lightly, grinnin’ despite yourself, an’ he grabbed your hand on its way back an’ pressed a kiss to your knuckles before lettin’ it go.
“Alright,” he said, sober, tryin’. “Alright. Alright.” He pulled in a breath through his nose an’ held it, abs still with eyes gleaming up at you to write down things.
He watched you write, eyes on your face adorably until ye were done writing down the start of a familiar song, sitting up proper now an’ letting you stay comfy on his lap as you leaned down and kissed him so slow.
“Yer mine,” he said into your lips.
“Aye.”
“Mo chroí. Ye’ll be mine fer all o’ it?”
“All o’ what?”
“’Til I’m dust an’ after.”
Yoh smiled against his mouth. “’Tis a lot to promise.”
“Age, then. Fer all o’ it.”
His thumb traced the shape o’ your lips, eyes searching yours and you loved him, wanting to stay in this lost place forever… despite not even knowing his name.
The thought landed in you like a stone.
You blinked and the room round you began to fade but the man beneath stayed warm while you tried to search the name o’ him.
“Who are you?” You said near a whisper.
His eyes on you didn’t change and then, slow, a smile curled up the corners o’ his mouth.
“Ye know who I am,” he said.
“Hey.” Somethin’ was shakin’ your shoulder.
“Ya with me? Hey—” The memory broke as you came back into your own body with a shudder tha’ ran all down your spine an’ Smoke had you by both shoulders, shakin’ to wake you from whatever state you were in.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey, you with me?
You looked at his brown eyes while behind him, in a loose half-circle, the others stood watchin’.
“What happened to ya?” Smoke said.
“I—I don’t—”
“You was standin’ there with your eyes open an’ you wasn’t here an’ even smilin’.”
You own hand went up to your mouth.
For a man who had just lost his twin, he sure did a good job at hiding everything.
“Tha’ thing out there out there with my brother an’ Mary an’ God knows who else in his hand now, wants Sammie. Y’ heard tha’?”
You shook your head.
“Tha’ thing wants Sammie,” Smoke said again. “An’ tha’ thing’s threatenin’ Grace’s little girl through her own father out there, you hear me?“
Said asian woman made a small sound on the far side o’ the room, hand tightening on her belly.
“I don’t—I don’t know what to—” you said, trying to figure out what to possibly do. “We wait fer the sun. Tha’s what kills ‘em, ain’t it?
He didn’t answer you right off, eyes going from your face to the shuttered window an’ stayed there a long stretch,
“Don’t you tell me you don’t know tha’ thin’ when it keeps callin’ ya by some pet name in.” Revolver still at his side.
You took one half-step back without meanin’ to.
“I don’t know him,” you said, an’ your voice shook. “Smoke. Smoke. I don’t— I have never in my life met him! I don’t know what’s happenin’, Smoke, I swear to God I don’t—”
You could feel the others watchin’ like Annie and Sammie’ eyes.
“Elijah,” Annie said while placing a hand on his shoulder. “We ain’t gon’ eat our own.”
Her eyes drifted to you quickly an’ they weren’t cold but they weren’t settled either. She was doin’ the math in her head.
“Grace is near out o’ her mind,” Annie went on, quieter. Said woman’ eyes were shinin’ hard and she was off the bar an’ movin’ before anybody had time to catch her.
Smoke took hold of her shoulder but she yelled “Come on in, you motherfuckers!”
Annie was at her back tryin’ to haul her off but it was already too late fer holdin’ back anythin’.
Soon everyone, you included, moved all over the place to get ready for what was about to come
Somebody had shoved a rifle into your hand, stock o’ it tacky where somebody else’s palm had sweat on it.
The large doors of wood opened, you heard.
He came in front of the large road of turned people, soaked head to boot in blood, suspenders dark with it and collar sodden, jaw smeared along with hair plastered dark to his temples.
His red eyes as arterial come up and land on you heavy.
Grace’s arm come up hard, old glass bottle packed with kerosene and a rag that had been lit up was now thrown
Remmick’s red eyes stayed on yours before his hand come up and clipped the glass on its way, knocking it sideways and letting it slam into the wall to his left.
Kerosene an’ fire went up the wall climbing fast upward.
Smoke fired his revolver, Sammie and Pearl’ rifles joined soon after.
You raised your own gun as well but the inferno that was born inside this place aroused a memory thousand years old.
No longer inside the juke joint but now hidden in a small area behind the settlement, knees pulled up under your chin an’ your palms pressed flat over your mouth to quiet your breathin’ while voices outside were shoutin’.
You’d hear them break the door in and go through the rooms callin’ out in a tongue you didn’t know well right before lighting up the place on their way out.
The first crackle o’ the thatch came and black curl of smoke invaded your lungs.
Tried to crawl toward the door, lower level of the floor had lower air and you’d made it two paces, before your lungs had spasmed.
All that was left was the call of your name and those strong hands cradling your body before beams had come down.
Somethin’ lunged for you in the juke joint and you fired off the hip instinctively, catching the thing barely in time.
The roof above was fully afire now and bits o’ flamin’ thatch-woven were fallin’, air now thick grey.
Pumping the rifle and raisin’ it again when a long hand with black black claws moved the barrel sideways, too fast upward to twist it outta your grip
It clattered off somewhere behind Remmick now standing right ahead as you backed up, heart punchin’ your throat from inside.
Over his shoulder and through the smoke, you saw Annie with Stack’s mouth at the side o’ her throat while you couldn’t move.
“What you waitin’ on,” you said, voice coming out rough with the smoke an’ cracked at the edges.
His head tilted a little.
“G’on,” you said. “Bite me, then. Tha’s what you’re here fer, in’t it? Tha’s what you do.”
The fire roared around you, roof groaning somewhere above your heads as his red eyes searched yours.
“Ye really don’t remember me,” he said quietly.
Your mouth opened and stayed like that because you did remember and not at the same time.
He saw the flicker of hesitation and soon was on you in the blink of an eye.
Only felt the air push before he had you now boxed in against the wall with his hands flat on the wood on either side o’ your head, arms caging ‘round and his face was so close your own breath was warmin’ his jaw.
“Mo chroí,” his breath smelled o’ iron, stink o’ fresh blood heavy on his tongue and washed over your mouth as he spoke.
“Listen to me now. I’ve woke up back to those ruins o’ me place and dug in tha’ wreck with my own two hands to find ya, an’ I found only— only—”
His voice crack.
“I wandered fer years… crossed a whole ocean fer ya. I kept lookin’ all this time an’ I’d have kept lookin’ another thousand year if I had to an’ tonight—” He breathed in hard, red in his eyes shaking.
Fire roared an’ the roof cracked while the shoutin’ and firing of weapons kept going.
His hand moved, slow and careful like he used to do as a lad not wantin’ to startle a horse. He reached down to his trouser pocket and fumbled there a second, coming out with somethin’ small closed in his fist.
He opened his fist and revealed a small and plain ring of worn metal.
Darkened now to near-black on the outside from long handlin’, two words written on the inner side.
“Wos the only thin’ I found tha’ night I lost ye,” he said, an’ his voice had gone down to somethin’ only you could hear. “Kept it all these years, polished it as best as I could. Please. Please, love. Take it.”
You looked at his face and it broke you, shakin’ fingers hovering above his open palm a second and then you set the tips to the metal o’ the ring before picking it up.
In a flood every single moment came back.
“…Remmick,” you said quietly and his whole face lit up, mouth streaked in blood spreading open to show sharp fangs and his red eyes crinkled at the corners.
You surged forward and closed the small distance between you in one push off the wall an’ you had your arms round his neck, face in the wet crook o’ his shoulder, squeezin’ him hard enough to feel his bones while he was drenched in somebody else’s blood.
Arms that could have crushed your bones locked around your back and they dragged you in tighter, one hand flat in the middle o’ your shoulderblades while thr one big hand cradled the back of your skull.
“What happened to ye?” Ye asked into his throat. “Why didn’t I wake up like ye did? Love, what happened to ya, tell me, tell me—”
He shushed you into your hair, hand at the back o’ your skull pressing harder and tiltin’ your face deeper into the curve o’ his neck.
“It don’t matter, mo chroí. It don’t matter a bit. I don’t care.”
The smoke bit deep into your lungs ‘fore you even realized you were chokin’ on it.
He moved wi’ such unnatural ease, carryin’ you outside the burnin’ place to the back of it.
“Shh, mo ghrá. Stay hidden, you hear me? Stay right here. I’ll be back soon enough, I swear it on me own bones.”
He went t’ set you down but you clung to his shoulder, fingers twistin’ in the ruined fabric o’ his shirt.
“Where’re ye goin’?”
“That lad, Sammie. He’s got the gift of music that splits the veil clean in two. If I take it from ‘im, I can reach back. We’ll see ‘em again, mo rún. Our own kin. Ever’body we lost.”
His forehead pressed to yours, his breath tremblin’ against your lips.
He kissed you, mouth crashing onto yours hard enough that your head would’ve snapped back if his hand hadn’t cradled the base o’ your skull. The taste o’ copper-sweet blood flooded your tongue and you didn’t care.
Opening for him his tongue shoved deep inside, greedy and stroking agin yours. A low noise rumbled up from his chest and his clawed hands slid down to your waist, big and possessive.
Your back met the wood o’ the burnin’ wall, gentle as he could manage despite his urgency as he pressed flush against you, his body cold where yours was fever-hot. His claws prick’d through the thin cotton o’ your shirt at your hips as he kissed you deeper, tongue slidin’ wet an’ filthy, teeth catchin’ gentle on your lower lip, suckin’ it into his mouth before lettin’ it snap back.
Fingers scrabbling up into his hair and he groaned into your mouth, rockin’ his hips once against you before he caught himself.
The kiss stretched too long for your mortal lungs as you started t’ whimper for air before he finally tore his mouth away wi’ a wet sound.
You looked up at him, dizzy and’ wrecked.
Drool hung in a slick silver strand from the corner o’ his parted mouth, runnin’ down over that blood-smeared chin, glistenin’, eyes blown wide and dark fixed on your throat where the wild pulse beatin’ there.
Hunger fightin’ in him before he wrenched his gaze away wi’ a strangled sound, turnin’ his face sharp t’ the side, dragging the back o’ his forearm rough across his mouth, smearin’ the drool an’ the blood away in one harsh swipe and floating upward.
Time stretched terribly as you hadn’t heard a cohesive noise outside.
By the time you’ve heard a loud crowd of vampires praying together, you crept t’ the window, seeing Remmick on the lake, dawn not yet cracked but threat’nin’. He caught Sammie by the collar, spun ‘im round, mouth openin’ wide, fangs glinting, ready t’ bite an’ take ever’thin’ that boy had before a guitar swung wild, and smashed full on the side o’ Remmick’s face.
His handsome face caving in on one side, jaw unhinged, perfect cheek carved an’ bloody, skin tornt open from temple t’ chin.
You’ve rushed to the lake and thankfully all the vampires ignored you from sharing the same pain of their master.
Only when you were right at the edge of the lake were you too late to see Smoke behind Remmick as he drove a stake through his back, bloody point o’ the wood burstin’ out the front o’ his chest.
Your feet were movin’ before your mind caught up, crashing through the lake water and caught ‘im as he swayed, sliding your arms under his an’ ‘round his back to hold ‘im up wi’ all the strength your human body had, his ruin’d face lollin’ agin your shoulder, blood soakin’ hot through the front o’ your shirt.
“No, no, no, I’m here, I’m here, a stór, I got you— Don’t you leave me alone again, Remmick, don’t you dare—“
Behind you, over the treetops, the sun broke, first ray hit him and he hissed, smoke curlin’ up off his skin in thin white ribbons.
He tried t’ push you away, so weak.
“Go — go, mo ghrá…get back, get —“
The flames caught as they leapt up his shoulders and they licked onto your arms where you held ‘im. The pain was unbearable now, skin blisterin’ but you did not let go, locking your arms tighter ‘round ‘im.
“Before the old spirits,” you murmured softly, voice on the verge of passing out from pain, “before earth, flame and the turning years… I bind myself t’ye.”
He made a wreck’d sobbin’ sound against your collarbone.
The fire took you both.
Remmick gasped loudly and he jerked back so violent that your entangled hands sticky of blood near ripped apart, blue eyes flying wide open
“Remmick!” Your heart slammed up into your throat from the fright he gave you. “Remmick, wha’s wrong? Wha’ is it?”
He stared at you, chest heavin’ like he’d run for miles. His hand flew up t’ his own face, touchin’ his cheek, findin’ it whole again and no longer smacked wide open.
He looked down at his own hands, turnin’ ‘em over, starin’ at the unmarked skin of his palms and lack of the usual sharp ended claws.
Then down at himself, no longer having suspenders and shirt soaked red in blood, seeing instead a simpler spare tunic, rough off-white linen stretching tight across his shoulders.
“Did you —“ His voice was horse. “Did you feel that?”
“Feel it? How could I miss it, ye great daft lummox? Ye gasped loud enough t’ wake the dead an’ scare ever’ rabbit an’ blackbird fer a mile. Look… even the heron took off.”
You pointed across the slow-moving dark water of the river from lack of wind t’ where a long grey bird was beatin’ her wings away low over the reeds.
But he wasn’t laughin’, lookin’ past you, eyes fixed on a figure across the river, tall and robed in something dark watching still o’ it gone just as fast the second you turned towards his gaze.
“Remmick,” you said again, softer now. “Tell me wha’ wrong, please. You’ve asked me t’ be with ye fore’er an’ now yer actin’ like ye’ve seen a ghost.”
He dragged his eyes all around the area he was in now, that same river deep in the forest tha’ will than lead to his land of work.
The look on his face when he dragged his gaze back on you was disbelieving.
He looked at the small cut on your palm previously linked to his, realizing now that there were no noises of invaders nearby that had interrupted your union.
This really was his place as it had been before everything went to ruin.
A sound tore out o’ ‘im resembling a mixture of a sob and a laugh as he lunged for you, wrapping you up so tight in his strong and human arms that your ribs creaked, burrowin’ his face into the crook o’ your neck, one big hand fisted in your hair an’ the other splay’d wide against your back, crushin’ you into his chest.
“Mo ghrá,” he rasped. “Mo chroí… I missed you somethin’ terrible, I thought—“
“Missed me?” you pulled back a little, bafflement written clear on your face, an’ reached up t’ cradle his cheek. “Remmick, love, I only clos’d me eyes a moment fer the prayer together wi’ ye. You’ve not been without me— “
Stopping as he laughed, broken little chuckle as you saw that his eyes had gone bright and glassy.
“Remmick.” Your voice softened t’ nothin’. “Wha’s the matter, a ghrá? Tell me an’ I’ll put it right.”
He turned his face into your palm, kissing the heel of your hand and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell o’ you.
“Nothin’s the matter a’tall.”
His hand slid t’ the nape o’ your neck, thumb stroking up under your ear and he tilted your chin wi’ his other hand to kiss you.
Completely different from the one you’ve shared outside the burning juke joint only he remembered.
A warm kiss, soft and devoid of blood and centuries of curses, lips moving against yours with devotion and when his tongue slid into your mouth it was unhurried, lickin’ along yours slowly and making your toes curl in your leather slippers.
He cradled your jaw in one big hand, tilting your head the way he liked so he could kiss you deeper still.
Whimpering small into his mouth and he groaned low in return, sound rumblin’ down through his chest an’ straight down into your abdomen.
His hand slid from your jaw down your throat and he felt your pulse there with the flat o’ his palm, living pulse of his own hammerin’ in his wrist where it rested against your collarbone.
Both of you alive.
When he broke away his eyes was half-lidded and his lips was shiny wet from yours.
“Mo chroí.” His voice had dropped a full octave, gone soft and husky while his forehead rested on yours. “Will you come back t’ my place wi’ me?”
“Remmick—“
“Back t’ our bed,” His thumb brushed soft along your lower lip, still flush’d from his kisses. “I wanna lay you down and hear them sweet little sounds fer me… let me hear your heart beatin’ against mine fer hours.”
Your cheeks flamed, smile forming on your lips as you nodded and he made a low approving sound deep in his throat and kissed you hard once more, happy to have the life that was stolen from him.
Summary: In ancient Ireland, you loved the farmer's son, rough-handed, sharp-tongued and devastatingly handsome. Many years spent together while sneaking around, enjoying each other’s company and the endless nights of no sleep. One night, he pulled you deep into the forest away from everyone else to make you his entirely… that same night his entire world was destroyed.
Tags: No use of Y/N. Male reader. Human Remmick. Farmer Remmick. Kissing. Make out sessions. Intimacy. Established relationship. Various highly suggestive moments. He was definitely very horny as a human. Possessive behavior. Fluff. Marriage proposal. Temporary character death. Vampire turning. Angst.
I tried to stay as grounded as possible in early Irish traditions and atmosphere while still shaping things for the story.
ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 - 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2
Words count: 9600
[Ancient Ireland — 400 AD]
The forest was dyin’ and it looked drop dead gorgeous.
Gold bled into amber, amber into rust, rust into a deep wine-red that clung stubbornly to the branches above. Leaves scattered thick upon the earth, a soft, uneven quilt of color that swallowed the ground whole, crunchin’ loud beneath yer steps as brittle carbon shells broke down underfoot.
Air smelling of damp soil and cold bark while sunlight slipped through the canopy in thin beams, catchin’ on the tall grasses now turned yellow, tips bowin’.
Your léine brushed against your legs as you walked, fabric light but clingin’ faintly with the chill. The forest thinned gradual-like, trees growin’ farther apart skeletal branches stretchin’ wide ‘til at last it opened into a broad field lay ahead, ringed by low earthen walls and timber.
A sturdy settlement of roundhouses stood scattered, wooden frames woven tight with wattle and daub, walls the color of dried clay. Their roofs sloped steep an’ conical, thick thatch spillin’ past the walls in a generous overhang, shelterin’ stacked firewood, tools and bundles of dried reeds tied neat.
Nearby, smaller huts perched raised on wooden posts, granaries with bellies lifted from the damp earth, keepin’ grain safe from rot an’ gnawin’ creatures. A low enclosure marked the ringfort, livestock movin’ restless inside.
There he was, vent over a stretch of broken fence, mutterin’ under his breath, nails caught between his teeth.
Each strike of the hammer rang out dull an’ solid from wood meetin’ iron, anger drivin’ the rhythm.
The tunic he had on clung to him, damp with sweat despite the chill, fabric pulled tight ‘cross his shoulders, belted at the waist, leavin’ just enough shape for you to see the hard lines beneath between his broad chest and abs carved from labor.
Irritation on his face that cracked the moment he saw you, straightening and liftin’ his arm to shield his gaze from the low sun, blue eyes half-lidded beneath it.
A crooked grin broke slow across his face, nails still clamped between his teeth and warmth hit your chest before you even reached him, quickening your pace before breaking into a jog the last stretch, hand snatchin’ the spare nail from his grip just as you came close.
“Tha’s it,” he muttered around the metal, voice rough with use.
His mouth was on yours in an instant as one big and calloused hand dropped the fence, comin’ around your back, heat seeping through thin fabric of yer léine as he pulled you flush against him, the awkward angle of the fence pressin’ between yer bodies but doin’ little to stop him.
Your hands rose without thinkin’, cuppin’ his face, feelin’ the coarse scrape of stubble on his firm jaw solid beneath your touch.
He hummed low into the kiss, a deep, pleased sound that vibrated straight through your throat.
His grip tightened, fingers splayin’ wide against your back and, by the time you pulled back, chest tight and breath caught somewhere between lungs an’ throat, he chased your lips with a soft, stubborn insistence and a weak chuckle slipped from his current preys.
“I missed ye,” he murmured, voice low, breath warm against your mouth.
“A week,” you managed, still catchin’ your breath.
“A week’s too long.”
You shook your head, smilin’ despite yerself. “Missed ye too.”
“Good.” A flash of satisfaction crossed his face.
His tone turned lighter, teasing. “So what’s my soon-t’ be bard been doin’, hm?”
Toying with the edge of his tunic, fingers absently twistin’ the fabric.
“Learnin’ the old tales… memorisin’ lineages. Trainin’ the voice, watchin’ how the fili shape words so they stick. Now update me on everythin’ I missed… start by we who did this.”
“Horse did it,” he muttered, noddin’ toward the ringfort where a restless shape moved. “Mad thing’s been breakin’ through t’ reach the mares.”
“Can ye blame it? Don’t be too harsh on it.”
He shot you a look, half amused and half exasperated. “I’ll cut its balls off if it does it again.”
“Yer da’ than should have done the same thing’ wi’ ye. Ye don’t remember all the time you sneaked away when ye were supposed to be helpin’ im?” Laughing under your breath, handin’ him the last nail which he drove it in with a solid strike.
Testing the badly fractured piece of wood, it held and that was enough to convince you to hoop the fence.
He barely gave you time to land as his arms wrapped around you quick, pullin’ you in tight, momentum carryin’ your back against the fragile wood.
Both of your hands pressed against his chest, feelin’ the steady rise an’ fall beneath the worn fabric where his pecs rested.
The hammer slipped from his grasp, hittin’ the ground with a dull thud right as his mouth found yours again, urgent and hungry, all the time apart carved somethin’ restless into him.
The fence creaked behind your back, growing louder the more he pressed you in as he devoured your tongue.
“Ye’ll break it again—” you breathed against his lips with no real reproach and he huffed a quiet laugh.
“I’ll fix it again.” Tongue plugging inside of your own mouth as a low rumble vibrated inside of it.
Both of your palms felt the sand like texture from the stubble he had on his jaw when they firmly kept him close.
The only thing that broke it was breath, chest growing tight from a slow ache buildin’ beneath the ribs as air turned scarce.
Pressing a hand to his chest, feelin’ the steady, stubborn beat beneath muscle and warmth and pulled back just enough to breathe.
He lingered close still, lips ghostin’ over yours as if reluctant to let go, warm hair puffing over them as he panted loudly before laughing lowly.
He caught your wrist an’ tugged you along with him.
“Come on,” he called over his shoulder, voice bright with somethin’ restless. “Da’s got me workin’ till dark. Means no one’s lookin’ fer me.”
Branches brushed past as he led you back toward the treeline, boots scuffin’ dirt, his grip firm an’ sure like he’d decided somethin’ already.
“Is he—” ye started, voice quieter now, “—is he fine wi’ me bein’ here?”
Remmick glanced back at you, crooked grin curlin’ slow.
“I told ye already,” he said, drawin’ it out, “he knows.”
There was somethin’ in the way he said too easily as his eyes flickered away for a moment, jaw shiftin’ faintly as if he’d swallowed the rest of what he meant to say.
He’d no trouble with it…not with you or keepin’ you.
But he didn’t say more of how his father had watched the two of you once, quite an’ thoughtful, before mutterin’ somethin’ about land, legacy an’ settlin’.
Instead, he squeezed your hand.
“Stay tonight,” he said almost carelessly but his thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles, betraying how much hope was buried beneath the ease.
“I will,” you answered, softer. “Tonight an’ two more. Then I’ve to go again.”
He huffed, half a breath and laugh.
“Aye. Yer letter said as much.”
Branches scraped lightly as you walked, duckin’ beneath low limbs, sunlight flashin’ sharp now an’ then into your eyes.
Squinting before liftin’ a hand to shield your face.
“I thought ye could barely read it,” you teased.
“I can read it,” he shot back, mock-offended. “Just… slow.”
“Aye, slow enough ye’d memorise it instead.”
That earned a grin.
The memory of charcoal-stained fingers came easy inside your head.
His broad and calloused hand in yers, awkward around the thin stick as you guided him across rough parchment.
“Like this,” ye’d murmured, pressin’ his fingers into the curve of a letter.
He’d frowned, brow furrowed deep, jaw tight with concentration.
“Looks like a goat tripped in ink,” he muttered.
“It’s an A, Remmick.”
He tried, letters scratched uneven at first, then steadier. Ink smudged across his knuckles and yours too where you steadied him.
He’d curse under his breath when he got it wrong, then do it again.
Later, when he thought you weren’t lookin’, he’d practice alone. You’ve found scraps once like bits of bark, worn hide of your name marked over an’ over again with the same shape.
Crooked and messy but his.
He learned songs faster, held them in his head, repeated them low while workin’, easier than the page.
One night both of you were stretched out, skin still heated and sweaty, breath slowin’ after very intense activities that had you screaming his name for endless hours and you’d balance a strip of parchment against his abdomen, tryin’ to write somethin’ as inspiration struck.
“Hold still.”
“I am—” His stomach tensed, abs shifting beneath the surface as charcoal skipped.
“Ye’re not.”
“It tickles!” His laugh had shaken the makeshift ‘table,’ ruin’ the line entirely. Ye’d shoved his shoulder lightly, both of you grinnin’ despite it.
Back in the present, the river came into view, cutting silver through the land, narrow but quick, water clear enough to see the smooth stones beneath.
Fallen leaves drifted along its surface, caught in small eddies before slipping onward.
The banks were lined with reeds gone pale an’ brittle, scent of cold and clean water mixed with damp earth and moss.
Remmick didn’t hesitate, boots kicked off and tunic dragged over his head in one smooth motion, tossed aside careless.
“I read it,” he muttered, almost to himself. “More times than I should.”
The last of the light caught on his fully naked skin, painting it warm gold against the chill of the evening.
He moved down to the water, crouchin’, cuppin’ it in his hands before splashing it over his chest.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth sharply but said nothing while you approached slower, suspicious.
“Cold?”
He made a noncommittal sound between a hum an’ a grunt before splashing against his worn body.
So you knelt beside him, hand dipped in–
“Gods—!” You hissed, jerkin’ back at the bite of it and his laugh broke loud an’ unrestrained, echoing off the water.
“Ye bastard—!” He didn’t stop, scooping both hands full and flingin’ it toward you. Trying to twist away quickly, it still caught your legs, cold shootin’ up like fire.
“Remmick—!”
He laughed harder, voice rich with it.
“Mo chroí, ye should’ve seen yer face—”
You splashed him back, though it was weaker and he only grinned wider.
When you moved closer again, he feinted, turnin’ sudden as if to throw more and you flinched before seeing large and empty hands.
That malicious grin again you couldn’t hate.
“Was there somethin’ tonight?” You asked, splashin’ water over yer own face this time, lettin’ it drip down.
“Village looked busy.”
Water dripped from the edge of his jaw, sliding down the strong line of his throat. The last blaze of sunset caught his eyes so brightly they looked near molten, pale blue lit gold at the center.
Real and genuine disbelief spread across his face.
“Ye forgot?” His voice came low and incredulous, brows lifting while he stared.
“Forgot what?”
The man groaned dramatically.
“Oh, saints preserve me,” he muttered while dragging one large hand down his face. “I’m losin’ ye entirely now.”
Frowning harder, confusion knotting between your brows.
He scrubbed water from his stubble with exaggerated disappointment, shaking his head as though deeply wounded by the betrayal.
“Remmick,” you complained, already irritated by the game. “Will ye jus’ tell me what ye’re talkin’ about?”
Another low noise left him but he said nothin’.
Slowly, pretending innocence, you peeled the damp tunic over your head and tossed it carelessly onto the grass near the bank, leaving the cold river touching bare skin everywhere now.
Complete silence as Remmick stared.
Sunlight poured molten gold over you both, turning the river copper around your bodies while the evening wind skimmed over wet skin. His eyes moved over every piece of bare skin with unbearable slowness, worse than greediness.
The muscles in his jaw tightened, broad chest rising deeper with breath.
Water rolled from his shoulders while he looked at you like the sight alone might undo him completely.
The fading sunlight painted every curve and line of your body warm amber, droplets clinging t’yout skin, hair damp already and strands sticking near your temples while cold water traced down the shape of your throat and pecs.
Remmick looked near feral watching it while you swallowed carefully beneath the weight of that stare.
“What’s tonight?” ‘Innocent’ question that earned a rough sound dragged from deep in his throat.
The next second he fully turned toward you, one knee sinking into the mud beneath the water while both arms wrapped suddenly round your waist, hauling you flush against his chest.
The heat of him shocked against the river’s cold.
“Cheatin’,” he muttered darkly against your cheek. “Tha’s what ye’re doin’.” Mouth pressed against the corner of your jaw, then cheek and beside your ear.
Rough and warm kisses leaving heat behind each touch despite the freezing water surrounding you both. His beard scraped lightly against your skin while he breathed against you, strong hands spanning nearly the whole of your back.
Laughing breathlessly and shoving at his chest, harder than intended as the muddy riverbed slipped beneath both of you instantly.
Remmick barked a curse as you both crashed backward into the water with a loud splash, freezing current swallowing every sound whole.
You resurfaced first, coughing laughter while pushing wet hair back while Remmick emerged a second later beneath you, dark hair plastered across his forehead.
“Ye little shite—!” He shoved soaked strands back roughly while glaring up at you, though the grin threatening his mouth ruined every bit of menace and his hands found your hips again beneath the water.
Cold river currents wrapped round both your naked bodies while he pulled himself upright into a seated position against the shallower stones, biceps flexing hard beneath wet skin as he dragged you effortlessly back against him until you sat secure in his lap.
One massive hand scooped water gently before pouring it over yer head.
“Remmick—” Ye sputtered a laugh.
“There,” he murmured smugly. “Washed some sense back into ye.”
You adjusted wet strands from his face with a chuckle, fingers brushing his wrist. “Tell me already.”
He leaned forward slowly, forehead resting against yours and voice dropping low enough that it nearly disappeared beneath the sound of the river.
“The feast,” he murmured. “The one with spirits walkin’ close enough t’taste the livin’.”
His nose brushed lightly against yers.
“And one o’ those nights,” he continued softly, “I had ye beneath me callin’ my name loud enough t’wake half the valley.”
Heat rushed through your entire body instantly despite the freezing temperatures enveloping your frame.
Memory struck hard between bonfires, smoke in the cold air along drunk villagers all around, his hands gripping your waist beneath hay blankets while distant festival drums echoed through the hills outside.
Remmick watched realization spread across your face with vicious satisfaction.
“Samhain,” you finally breathed.
“Oh, finally,” he groaned dramatically, throwing his head back toward the darkening sky and it made you laugh quietly.
“Can ye forgive meself?” You murmured while leaning closer, lips hovering near his.
A small smirk curled at one corner of his mouth immediately, hungry and dangerous.
Both his rough hands tightened against yours waist, keeping you close enough that there was hardly any space left between yer bodies at all.
Both arms slid around his neck, fingers burying deep into his soaked dark hair before scratching lightly against the back of his head exactly the way ye knew he liked as a rough breath left him.
Beneath the water, you suddenly felt the unmistakable heat and hardness of his huge arousal against your own erection.
A soft gasp escaped your throat before you could stop it.
Remmick’s smirk widened slowly in response, those bright blue eyes burning with open hunger now while river water slid down both yer skin beneath the last dying light of sunset.
A low sound rolled from Remmick’s chest the second you spoke of freezin’.
“Aye,” he muttered, voice rough as gravel worn smooth by river currents. “Had a few things in mind fer ye.”
The look he gave made heat creep beneath your skin despite the cold, eyes drifting down your body again, lingering shamelessly where the river still hid most beneath dark rippling water.
“But I’d rather get ye back t’my place before me arse freezes off entirely.” He added under his breath, mouth curling faintly and a laugh escaped you instantly.
“Wholeheartedly agree,” you murmured. “Can barely feel my own behind anymore.”
The moment the words left your mouth, both of his large hands moved without hesitation, strong palms landing directly on your arse beneath the freezing water.
“Sshh— Remmick—”
He squeezed hard enough t’pull a startled breath from you, fingers spanning near the entirety of your hips while mock horror crossed his face.
“Oh no,” he muttered dramatically. “Can’t lose me stór now, can I?”
Rolling your eyes despite the smile fighting its way onto your lips, pushing lightly at his shoulder before climbing fully off his lap. Water streamed down both your bodies immediately, river currents reluctantly slipping from skin as you trudged toward the shallower bank.
Remmick followed close behind and the second you reached the grass he moved ahead, grabbing your discarded tunic before you even bent for it.
Like some bloody gentleman.
He held it out toward you with a crooked grin while water still dripped from the ends of his dark hair.
“Yer clothes, sweetheart.”
“Thank ye, mo grá.”
The nickname softened him instantly, that hard edge around his mouth easing while his eyes warmed beneath the fading sunset.
“‘Course, sweetheart,” he murmured.
The drenched tunic clung cold against yours skin as you slipped it over your head. Meanwhile Remmick tugged his own clothes back on with quick efficiency, rough linen sticking damply against broad shoulders and heavy arms before he reached for your hand immediately after.
His palm engulfed yours entirely, warm despite the cold.
“C’mon,” he muttered. “Before night catches us out here.”
A walk back through the forest settled into something quiet and peaceful.
Autumn wrapped itself around the woods in deep gold and dying amber, sunset filtering through twisted oak branches in long streaks of molten orange. Fallen leaves carpeted the earth beneath your feet, rust-red, yellow and copper-brown crunching softly beneath boots while cold evening wind stirred through the trees overhead.
Rotting apples fallen somewhere unseen and distant peat smoke drifting from the village.
Thin ribbons of mist had already begun forming between the trees where shadows gathered thickest, making the woods seem older somehow.
Remmick walked ahead slightly, thumb rubbing absentminded circles against the back of your knuckles the whole way, then you spotted the high yellow grass near the edge of his land, tall enough now t’brush near waist-height.
“Remmick, ye need to cut this damn grass already.”
He groaned as you imitated his da’s tone.
“No.” He dragged a hand down his face dramatically while pushing open the wooden door of his home with a grunt.
“Ye sound exactly like him.”
“Maybe someone has t’.”
Another groan answered you.
Inside, darkness had already begun swallowing the house whole.
Remmick moved quickly through the familiar dimness before striking flint against steel near the wall. Sparks burst briefly before catching the lantern wick, weak golden fire blooming slowly across the small room.
The structure smelled of dried hay and old cedarwood.
You stepped further inside, boots crunching softly against scattered layers of hay spread over the packed earth floor for warmth and insulation. The home itself was simple but sturdy, thick timber beams overhead blackened slightly by years of smoke, woven rush mats near the sleeping area, shelves crowded with clay bowls and bundles of drying herbs hanging upside-down from ceiling hooks.
Outside, the last sliver of sunlight disappeared fully beyond the hills.
Remmick turned briefly over his shoulder.
“Gonna fetch somethin’ fer us.”
“Need the lantern?”
His voice came from deeper within the dark hallway now, nearly swallowed whole by shadow. “Nah,” he called back casually. “Got night eyes like a predator.”
“Idiot.” Only a chuckle answered you from the dark.
Left alone, you wrapped both arms around yerself while waiting, damp clothes slowly warming against skin from the lantern’s weak heat, then your gaze landed on one of the wooden drawers near the sleeping furs.
Curious, you pulled it open and found dozens of letters tied with thin leather strips.
Every single one marked with your name scratched neatly across the top alongside dates written painstakingly beneath.
Remmick’s handwriting, now practiced and precise.
Beside them sat loose sheets of parchment holding unfinished music you’d abandoned weeks ago, notes half-written in charcoal exactly where you’d left them.
He’d kept all of it protected.
Something warm and painful bloomed in your chest all at once, a helpless smile tugging at your mouth.
A violent gust of wind slammed through the house suddenly, lantern extinguishing instantly and darkness swallowed everything.
For one terrible second you heard only the wind outside before something heavy crashed somewhere deeper in the house and your entire body went rigid.
“Remmick?”
No answer.
Another sound echoed faintly from somewhere farther inside, wet and dragging.
“Remmick!”
Still nothing, your skin crawled violently.
Heart pounding now, you fumbled quickly for the lantern and struck a trembling flint against steel until sparks finally caught again.
Weak golden light flickered back alive, shadows lurched violently across the walls as you grabbed the lantern and hurried toward the dark hallway.
“If this is a prank,” you called tightly, “it’s not funny at all—”
The words died instantly.
A massive puddle of blood soaked the hay ahead in thick uneven streaks, the straw drinking greedily at it until everything looked rust-colored beneath the lantern light.
Fresh footprints tracked through it toward the far room, large bare prints smeared crimson.
The strong metallic smell hit next and you felt sick immediately.
“Remmick—?” Fear crashed into you hard enough t’leave your hands trembling.
Every horrible thought struck at once.
Arms wrapped violently around you from behind, lantern slipping from your hand immediately as something massive yanked ye flush against a hard chest and a mouth landed hot against your neck, followed by a deep growl vibrating directly into the column of your skin.
Thrashing instantly in panic against the hold while adrenaline exploded through your veins, those strong arms locked tighter around your waist no matter how hard you struggled, dragging you backward through the darkness while rough breath ghosted over your throat.
For one horrifying second you genuinely believed you were going to die.
“Let go—!” Boots slamming backward uselessly against solid muscle.
Low chuckles suddenly rumbled against your neck, chest pressed to your back shaking from restrained laughter.
Recognition hit instantly and you went completely limp.
“Remmick—!” His laughter burst free properly then, loud and unashamed while he buried his face against yours shoulder.
“That little yelp nearly killed me.” He wheezed
You sagged against him with relief and fury mixing together violently.
“Ye absolute idiot,” you muttered, rubbing hard at your face while sagging into him from behind toward him. “What in spirit’s name is all this blood?!”
Dead serious, he answered.
“Cut the balls off tha’ horse fer good.”
You turned your head to stare at him in disbelief before huffing loudly.
“Be serious.”
His grin cracked immediately.
“Cow went into labor earlier,” he admitted. “Da told me t’clean it. Haven’t had the time. Too borin’.”
“Remmick—”
“Aye, aye.” Still grinning, he finally handed you dry clothes bundled beneath one arm.
They smelled like him as you quickly replaced your drenched one, linen shirt hanging absurdly loose on your frame once ye pulled it on, sleeves swallowing half your hands while his rough wool tunic settled heavy and warm across your shoulders.
Even his belt sat crooked no matter how tightly you fastened it.
Remmick watched the entire process with far too open satisfaction.
He’d only bothered putting trousers back on himself, leaving his broad chest exposed while damp curls clung near his neck from the river.
Then his gaze shifted downward, lantern flame from earlier still crackled weakly across scattered hay.
“Oh fer—” He stepped forward casually and crushed the forming flame beneath one bare foot before relighting the lantern properly and setting it atop the nearby wooden table.
A dangerous little smirk tugged at his mouth as he turned to look at you, closing the distance until you could feel warmth rolling off his skin.
“Now,” he murmured lowly, eyes flicking toward yer lips, “about those words ye told me back in the river…”
Your arms slid around his neck almost automatically, head dipping instantly as soft kisses landed across your cheek first.
Then slower ones near your jaw, lower down yer throat.
His large hands settled heavily against your hips, holding you close enough t’feel every steady breath leaving his chest.
“We’re gonna be late fer the feast,” ye muttered weakly, words barely leaving your mouth before Remmick’s teeth caught against the side of your throat, stingy enough t’pull a hiss.
“Mmnh—” The bite lingered just long enough t’leave heat blooming beneath your skin before he soothed it with the slow drag of his tongue, rough warmth tracing over the mark while his breath fanned hot against your neck.
“It’ll be quick,” he mumbled lazily against your throat, an outright lie that made a strained sound leave you somewhere between a laugh and a moan.
Saints above, nothin’ with him was ever quick.
Not when his mouth wandered over you so starved, hands touching ye with that impossible mixture of reverence and possession.
Large palms slid down your hips now, fingers spreading wide before grabbing a handful of your arse through the rough wool of his own clothes draped across your body, grip pulling you flush against him completely.
The thick bulge between his strong thighs pressed directly against your own erection through layers of dry fabric and a shaky breath escaped you immediately, low noise of satisfaction rumbled from his chest while he leaned closer, forehead brushing briefly against yours.
“Te don’t wanna now?” He muttered huskily as if he already knew the answer.
You hummed uncertainly despite yourself , fingers curling tighter near the nape of his neck.
“It’s never quick with ye,” you breathed that made him grin.
“Can ye blame me?” His mouth brushed the corner of yours as he spoke, voice roughened lower now.
Heat rushed through your entire body at once remembering the way he’d act in those moments, dragging kisses across your skin until you trembled from anticipation alone, large hands roaming slow enough t’make you ache for more.
Then afterward he somehow became worse, countless nights where he’d worked ye apart so thoroughly ye could hardly breathe afterward, only for him t’pull you right back against his chest moments later while you still shook from a previous climax he managed to pull with his dick alone, murmuring praises in Gaelic against your skin, hands stroking lazily over sweat-slick skin while you thought it was finally over until ye’d feel him hardening again against your thigh.
‘Remmick,’ ye’d whine breathlessly those nights, oversensitive and exhausted while he laughed low in his throat at the sight of you already falling apart beneath him.
Yet somehow you always opened for him anyway t’steal coherent thought from your head.
The man fucked like he was trying t’memorize every sound you made and the smug bastard enjoyed it far too much.
A teasing light flashed across his face before he suddenly pulled you downward, body landing atop the crunchy hay with a startled sound while he followed immediately, broad frame caging you beneath him as lantern light flickered gold over his bare chest and damp dark hair.
The scent of peat smoke and river water clung t’him still.
He looked unfair, hovering above with swollen lips and bright blue eyes darkened entirely by hunger.
“Funny thing,” he murmured lustfully.
A quick kiss landed against your mouth.
“Ye never complain.”
Another immediately after barely a second between them.
“Never tell me t’stop.”
Another soft and deeper.
“And every time—” Another kiss cut himself off until laughter dissolved breathlessly from your mouth because he wouldn’t stop kissing you long enough for either of you t’think properly anymore.
One peck turned into another instantly, then another and his mouth pressed harder against yours while one hand slid beneath the oversized tunic hanging from your shoulders.
You barely managed a breath before his tongue slipped into your mouth properly.
The sound that escaped him at the taste of you was near sinful, low and starving.
Tilting your head instinctively while his tongue dragged slowly against yours, deepening the kiss until warmth pooled heavily low in your stomach despite every attempt t’remain sensible.
His weight settled more firmly between your thighs, hard press of him against you nearly made your mind blank.
By the time you finally managed t’pull back enough for air, his mouth chased after yours instantly and another kiss nearly landed before you turned your head away breathlessly.
“Remmick,” you pleaded softly, voice rough now. “Don’t wanna miss anythin’ tonight.”
He groaned quietly against your jaw.
“The spirits’ll be furious,” you continued weakly, “if we celebrate in our own way instead.”
That earned a reluctant chuckle from him.
Suddenly somethin’ shifted behind his eyes like he’d remembered something important, expression softening unexpectedly.
“Aye,” he murmured after a moment. “Reckon ye’re right.”
Though he sounded deeply wounded by the fact, very reluctantly he leaned back enough t’look at you properly again.
He stared openly and shamelessly.
To Remmick, you looked devastatingly handsome, you already belonged t’him entirely.
‘Someday soon,’ he thought quietly while watching you breathe beneath him.
You pushed yerself upright first before offering him a hand and his gaze flicked toward it.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he took yours gently, even then his hand dwarfed yours completely, bicep flexing hard beneath lantern light as he hauled himself upright with a rough grunt, still refusing t’let go immediately once standing.
Outside, beyond the small wooden home, Samhain fires had begun burning across the hills of Ireland.
Remmick tugged a simpler spare tunic over his head while walking, rough off-white linen stretching tight across broad shoulders still a bit damp from the river, fabric clinging slightly to his chest where droplets hadn’t fully dried yet, outlining old scars and heavy muscle beneath the weave.
The sight alone nearly distracted you enough t’walk straight into the doorframe, a crooked grin touched his mouth while he hurried ahead, one hand catching the wooden door before it swung shut from the rising wind. He pulled it open wide for you with exaggerated courtesy, bowing his head slightly.
“M’man,” he drawled.
You snorted at his words and his laughter followed ye outside into the cold.
Darkness had settled fully now, forests surrounding the valley had become vast black shapes beneath the deepening sky, hills dissolving into shadow while the final remnants of sunset burned low and bloody-red across the horizon.
The village looked alive.
Muddy pathways winding between homes gleamed dark beneath lanternlight while smoke curled endlessly from low thatched roofs into the freezing night air.
Every gust of wind carried new scents through the settlement, burning peat thick enough to taste, roasting meat dripping fat into fire, damp wool cloaks, apples stewing in honey and spice.
People filled every corner of the village, moving and preparing with endless laughing.
Children darted through heaps of fallen leaves with shrill laughter, breath puffing white before their mouths while exhausted mothers shouted half-hearted warnings after them. Young boys dragged bundles of sticks larger than themselves toward communal fire pits while older girls hung drying herbs beside doorways between rosemary, mugwort, rowan branches tied carefully with red thread against wandering spirits.
Ogham marks carved into the wooden frame above doors.
Bowls of milk had been left outside beside rough pieces of oat bread and sliced apples.
Offerings.
The cold wind pushed through the tall dying grass surrounding the village, carrying the distant cries of crows overhead.
Too many of them.
Even the livestock seemed restless.
Cattle bellowed loudly from crowded pens while sheep pressed tightly together near fences. Dogs barked toward the tree line for no clear reason, hackles raised despite their owners’ attempts to calm them.
The horses—
You slowed slightly upon passing the stable path.
One of the larger stallions refused point-blank to move toward the northern trail leading near the woods. The beast reared sharply against its rope, eyes rolling white while stable boys struggled desperately to calm it.
“Easy now—!”
“It won’t fuckin’ move!”
Remmick’s hand settled instinctively against the small of your back as you both watched.
“Animals get strange around Samhain,” he muttered slowly. “Always have.”
Still, the horse kept staring toward the forest.
Life surged everywhere inside the village.
Men hauled heavy grain sacks toward storage huts before winter frost could ruin them. Others stacked chopped wood into towering piles beside homes while women carried baskets overflowing with turnips and leeks gathered from the final harvest.
Smokehouses near the edge of the settlement stood open, rows of fish hanging inside while salted strips of meat cured above slow-burning peat fires.
An earthy perfume overwhelmed the area.
Remmick greeted villagers constantly while you walked, laughing loudly with one man hauling firewood.
Trading insults with another while helping him lift a broken cart wheel from the mud one-handed.
Children ran straight toward him without hesitation.
“Remmick!”
“Did ye bring more wood?”
“Your da says ye still owe him ale!”
“Aye, well,” he barked back with a grin, “yer da owes me dignity after last winter.”
His rough hands bore fresh cuts from labor, hair curled damply near his temples despite the cold from constant movement.
You caught sight of a druid near the center of the village painting ash symbols across a young child’s forehead while speaking softly in Old Irish.
Protection for the coming winter and wandering spirits.
Samhain marked the death of the old year and the beginning of another uncertain one.
That relief of surviving harvest and fear of winter ahead marked inside everyone of you.
By the time you reached the center clearing, music had already begun rising louder into the freezing air.
People stomped muddy boots in time with the music, clapping hands, laughing too loudly, drinking deeply from shared cups of ale and mead, intoxicated by relief alone.
Dancers spun wildly in uneven circles through mud and dead leaves while sparks from nearby fires floated upward into the black sky and through all of it Remmick kept looking at you, eyes finding you constantly no matter who spoke t’him.
At one point while passing behind ye through the crowded gathering, his hand slid low against your back too low you nearly choked on your drink.
“Remmick,” you hissed quietly.
“No one noticed.” His grin widened shamelessly near your ear completely unashamed.
As night deepened further, sunset vanished fully, cold descended harder and one by one home fires began dying.
Families stepped from their houses carrying extinguished lanterns while hearth smoke slowly faded from rooftops across the settlement. Warm orange windows darkened until nearly the entire village sat beneath shadow.
The communal bonfire ignited, flames exploding upward violently into the night sky, towering high enough t’illuminate every face surrounding it in molten orange light. Sparks spiraled upward endlessly while heat rolled across the freezing clearing in powerful waves.
Everyone erupted in cheers, surging toward the sacred fire carrying offerings that ranged from bundles of grain to bones from slaughtered livestock tossed into the blaze with whispered prayers for protection through winter.
Bodies moving in rough spinning circles around the fire, boots stomping mud hard enough t’shake the earth beneath. People grabbed strangers’ hands laughing breathlessly while music rose almost trance-like beneath the towering flames.
Remmick finally pulled you into it with him, one rough hand grabbed yours firmly while the other settled against your waist.
“C’mon, stór.”
Ye laughed breathlessly while he dragged ye spinning through the crowd.
The bonfire painted his face gold and shadow by turns, bright blue eyes near glowing beneath the firelight while loose locks of dark hair fell across his forehead from movement.
Sweat glimmered faintly against his throat despite the freezing air, laughs rumbling deep enough t’feel through his chest whenever you stumbled against him.
Slowly, almost without you noticing, Remmick began steering you away from it all.
At first casual with his hand tightening around yours while he tugged you through the edge of the crowd.
Then you noticed the way he kept looking behind himself.
Quick glances over his shoulder in alert, agitated more than scared, that sat strangely on him, jaw kept flexing tight beneath firelight while his icy eyes scanned the crowd repeatedly. Even his grip against your hand felt firmer than usual, rough palm nearly swallowing yours whole as he guided you away from dancing villagers and deeper toward the darker edge of the settlement.
You glanced behind as well instinctively.
Most folk were far too drunk or distracted to care where you both disappeared t’ anyhow. Men shouted over games near the ale barrels while women spun laughing near the fires, wool cloaks snapping in the cold wind. Children chased each other between legs despite exhausted parents trying t’drag them home.
“Mo grá,” you muttered quietly with a small laugh. “What’s gotten into ye?”
He didn’t answer immediately, only tugged you further along the narrow forest path, trees gradually swallowed the village light behind, thick branches clawing together overhead until the bonfire became only a distant orange glow flickering through trunks.
The music softened into a dull heartbeat far behind now.
Only once the woods fully surrounded you did his shoulders loosen slightly.
“There,” he murmured slowly after a loud exhale.
“What’s all this about?”
A grin flickered briefly across his face then, nervous somehow beneath the usual confidence.
“Patience.” The single lantern swinging from his hand painted molten gold across handsome features whenever he turned behind. Light caught against the sharp line of his cheekbones, damp locks of dark hair falling over his forehead, pale blue of his eyes made brighter still by the shadow surrounding him.
You opened your mouth t’speak again only fer him t’suddenly turn around fully.
“Shh.”
One finger lifted before his lips before grabbing your hand once more and pulled you deeper into the trees.
Silver mist crawled low across the earth between roots and stones while the cold wind whispered endlessly through dead autumn leaves overhead.
Eventually the trees thinned enough for the riverbank t’reappear, same clearing from earlier along the old twisted tree overlooking the dark current.
Remmick finally stopped.
Without a word he lowered himself onto one knee before setting the lantern carefully beside him, warm light spilling across the ground and illuminating drifting fog around your boots.
“Remmick,” you muttered softly, immediately crouching closer toward him, confusion mixing now with concern. “What’s this about?”
For once in his life the man looked nervous, realization startling you more than anything else tonight.
His hands flexed once against his knees while lanternlight danced across his face. Anxiety flickered unmistakably behind those icy blue eyes despite the grin he clearly tried maintaining.
“I…” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Wanted t’tell ye somethin’.”
Simple words, yet his voice carried strain beneath them, never seen him like this.
So unsettled and vulnerable, warmth spreading through your chest immediately.
Trying t’ease some of the tension from him, you smiled softly.
“Well,” you murmured carefully, “I was hopin’ t’give ye somethin’ too.”
Relief shifted his expression.
“Aye?” he asked, brows lifting slightly.
You nodded while reaching toward the pocket hidden inside the oversized wool tunic still hanging from your shoulders, ready to extract the object you sneaked in and had kept hidden since this morning.
“Close yer eyes.”
That crooked grin returned immediately.
“There’s the bard in ye.”
Still, he obeyed and slowly, his beautiful eyes shut while the corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
“What’ve ye got planned, hm?”
You shuffled closer on your knees until the scent of him wrapped fully around you again, peat smoke woven deep into linen and skin.
Cold river water still lingering faintly in his damp hair.
Carefully, you withdrew the silver chain from your pocket, moonlight and lanternfire caught instantly against the delicate metal links.
Tiny silver charms hung from it, old Celtic knotwork shaped subtly like intertwining roots and rivers, crafted by noble hands years ago.
The moment your fingers brushed his neck he inhaled softly, strong throat moving while you fastened the chain slowly around him while lanternlight painted gold across the broad line of his shoulders and chest.
Even kneeling in dirt beside a freezing river, Remmick somehow looked like something carved from legend itself.
“Open yer eyes,” you whispered and his lashes lifted slowly, gaze dropping toward the silver chain resting against his chest.
Confusion flickered briefly before one large hand rose instinctively toward it, fingertips brushing the charms and making them jingle softly in the silent grove.
“Wha’s this?”
“One o’ the first nobles I ever wrote fer gave me that,” ye explained quietly. “She was old,” you murmured softly. “Before I left she told me t’give it someday t’the one person I loved deeply like she did wi’ her husband.”
Complete silence as Remmick stared at you.
The look on his face nearly shattered your insides.
That usual arrogance disappeared entirely, emotions crossing his handsome features all at once like he genuinely did not know what t’do with it.
The hand gripping the silver chain tightened almost painfully, then finally he huffed out a rough breath through his nose.
“Thanks sweetheart,” he muttered hoarsely, icy eyes going suspiciously bright in the lanternlight.
Without warning he leaned forward enough t’press one rough kiss against yer forehead before murmuring.
“Close yer eyes now.”
You obeyed immediately.
The next few moments filled only with soft shuffling sounds nearby, fabric moving and a shaky exhale from him.
Suddenly his hand wrapped around yours, thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.
“Open ‘em.”
Remmick was still knelt before you, now with a simple metallic ring rested in his hand.
Hand-forged silver worn slightly imperfect around the edges.
“Will ye stay wi’ me forever?”
The words struck so hard you nearly forgot how t’breathe, everything around you disappeared for one impossible second, only him remained watching you carefully with a tension you’d never seen in him before.
When you still didn’t answer immediately, mostly because shock had stolen coherent thought entirely, he hurried onward quietly.
“Please.” The single word sounded almost painful and his grip tightened around your hand.
“I swear I’ll take care o’ ye,” he murmured quickly, voice low and rough. “Every day I’ve got left. I’ll make ye the happiest man in this whole damned land if ye let me.”
Your eyes burned instantly, emotions crashing through you so violently it hurt.
“Yes.”
The answer left you wholehearted and trembling.
“Yes.”
Relief hit him so visibly it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs, a broken laugh escaped him immediately before he slid the ring carefully onto your finger with rough trembling hands.
It fit perfectly as you looked down through glassy eyes and saw delicate words etched carefully along the inside.
Mo chroí
He wore one too matching, simple silver against his rough calloused hand.
“I had t’use near every save I owned fer those,” he admitted with a sheepish crooked grin.
You surged toward him instantly and his mouth met yours halfway, kiss landing soft at first, years of love pressed silently between lips and trembling hands.
His palm cupped your jaw carefully while you kissed him deeper beneath the lanternlight, thumbs brushing against damp skin, noses bumping slightly from the sheer urgency of wanting closer somehow.
The silver chain jingled faintly between you both as your tastebuds felt the lingering mead and smoke on his mouth.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling through tears, he rested his forehead gently against yours.
“Let the spirits formalize it,” he whispered, to which you nodded immediately, didn’t even bother wiping away the tear slipping down your cheek.
Carefully, Remmick reached behind himself and withdrew the knife tucked through his belt, without hesitation pressing it lightly against his palm.
A rough grunt left him as blood welled instantly from the light cut, dark crimson rolling slowly down his hand before dripping into the earth below.
You offered your own hand immediately and he looked at you once, softly, repeating the motion gentler this time.
The sting barely registered.
Nearby, movement stirred between the trees.
Two deer stood silently beyond the clearing observing and farther back a wolf stood still beneath the darkness.
You gripped Remmick’s bloody hand tightly, blood mingling warm between your palms while both of you knelt beside the river beneath ancient trees and closing night.
Then together you bowed your heads and closed your eyes, all muscles relaxing.
“Before the old spirits,” Remmick murmured softly, voice rough with something almost fearful now, “before earth, flame and the turning years… I bind myself t’ye.”
Words settling heavy through the grove.
The wind changed violently, a sudden gust tore through the clearing hard enough t’whip leaves upward around you both in spiraling waves and the lantern flickered sharply.
Somewhere deep within the forest, birds exploded screaming from the trees, hundreds of wings moved.
Every hair along your arms rose instantly when the deers bolted away.
You had the overwhelming sense of being watched.
Even the river sounded distant suddenly beneath the roaring pulse in your ears.
Another colder gust swept through, leaves skittered violently across the earth around the old tree roots while somewhere nearby a branch snapped.
Faint shouting carried through the trees somewhere off to your right.
Distant human voices are loud enough t’break the suffocating tension wrapped around the grove.
You turned immediately toward the sound, eyes snapping open fully as more shouting followed.
“Remmick?”
He didn’t answer and you looked back toward him instantly.
His eyes remained closed still, head bowed slightly toward the earth beneath you both, lantern light carving strange shadows across his face now, emphasizing the sharpness of his cheekbones and the line of his brow.
There was something unsettlin’ in the way his expression looked distant.
The grip he had around yer bloody hand tightened painfully.
“Remmick,” you called again, more anxious now.
Still nothing.
The river beside you whispered darkly through stone while somewhere far off another shout echoed from the coast.
You pulled lightly on his hand and that seemed t’snap him out of whatever trance had taken hold.
His eyes opened rapidly, bright blue gaze immediately darting toward your face with clear confusion.
“What—?”
The anxiety in your expression must have alarmed him instantly.
His posture shifted at once, alert now.
Movement across the river caught your eye.
A tall figure unnaturally still that you barely saw more than the outline before it shifted behind another trunk, disappearing almost seamlessly into darkness again.
Every hair along your neck rose violently at seeing the inhuman movements made by whatever it was.
For one impossible second you could have sworn pale eyes reflected lanternlight from impossibly far away.
The shouting returned much louder now.
Remmick’s head snapped instantly toward the sound.
This time he reacted immediately.
“C’mon.”
He rose fast enough t’nearly drag you upward with him, gripping your hand tightly before moving quickly along the riverbank toward the noise.
The deeper you both moved through the forest, the louder the shouting became.
Metal clanging, orders barked harshly, not Gaelic but brythonic and foreign.
Cold dread settled heavier inside your stomach with every step.
Finally the trees thinned near the cliffs overlooking the sea and you saw large boats sitting anchored near the rocky coastline below, dark hulls rocking violently against black water while torchlight flickered across iron fittings and painted shields lining their sides.
War vessels, dozens of men crowded the shore beneath them.
Invaders.
Most wore heavy wool cloaks clasped with bronze brooches over chainmail or thick leather armor reinforced by iron plates. Round shields painted with faded red symbols hung across their backs while long spears and broad iron swords gleamed wetly beneath torchlight.
Some wore helmets with cheek guards framing brutal faces weathered by war and sea wind. Others had thick mustaches braided with bits of metal while blue woad markings stained exposed skin.
Their horses stamped nervously near the shore, even the animals looked unsettled.
The road they were heading into was that same muddy path leading directly toward the village.
Remmick yanked you both behind the thick trunk of an old oak instantly.
One arm wrapped tightly around yer waist while you both crouched low enough t’remain hidden.
His jaw had gone rigid, mouth brushing near your ear.
“Run t’my place,” he whispered harshly.
“What?” Shock hits you instantly when trying to process those words.
“Go.”
“Are ye insane?” You hissed quietly. “There’s too many o’ them!”
He ignored the panic in your voice entirely, both hands gripped your shoulders firmly now.
“Hide there,” he ordered lowly. “I just wanna see what they’re after.”
“Remmick—” One hand slid upward suddenly, cradling your cheek gently despite everything and the contrast nearly broke your heart while his thumb brushed once beneath your eye.
“I’ll kill anyone who tries t’hurt ye,” he murmured quietly. “Or this place.”
The promise sounded terrifyingly sincere and he ran before you could protest further
Deep down you already knew how stubborn he could be, willing t’throw himself into danger for the people he loved.
Reluctantly, heart pounding violently now, you turned and began sprinting toward his father’s land.
Branches clawed at your clothes while roots nearly caught your boots repeatedly in the dark.
Several times you glanced back over your shoulder as Remmick grew progressively smaller farther away.
He moved through the woods worse than an hunted animal, years spent hunting across these forests with his dad since he was a lad guided every step instinctively.
He ducked low beneath hanging branches, vaulted fallen roots slick with moss, boots barely touching the earth between strides.
Cold air burned inside his lungs while adrenaline flooded every vein.
The shouting ahead grew louder.
Then the strong smell of smoke reached his lungs
His stomach dropped violently at the sight of houses burning down, flames climbing thatched rooftops in towering orange waves while thick black smoke rolled violently upward into the night sky.
Villagers screamed through the chaos, some fleeing desperately while others already lay motionless in muddy pathways.
People he knew were suffering.
Old Bran lay crumpled beside the butcher stall with blood soaking through his chest.
Maeve screamed while soldiers dragged her husband toward the center firepit.
Children cried somewhere unseen beneath the roar of flames.
British oppressors stormed through the settlement brutally, overturning storage barrels, slaughtering livestock, dragging villagers into the mud at spearpoint.
The communal bonfire still burned at the center, only now bodies lay beside it.
Hands bound and kneeling, execution waiting.
Remmick felt something inside him rupture completely.
One of the invaders spotted him instantly.
“THERE—!” Shouts erupted and three soldiers broke away immediately toward the forest.
He was forced to run back from where he came, branches whipping violently across his face while boots pounded over dead leaves.
Behind him iron armor clattered louder through the woods and he veered sharply behind a massive fallen oak before dropping low silently into the underbrush.
The first soldier crashed past him moments later and one of Remmick’s hands clamped brutally across the man’s mouth while the other drove the knife upward into his throat.
Hot blood exploded across his hands as the Briton choked violently, gurgling noises coming as Remmick stabbed him repeatedly in the back once he retracted the knife.
Every ounce of fury poured through the blade until the soldier collapsed twitching into the leaves.
The knife slipped from Remmick’s blood-slick fingers afterward and he staggered backward breathing hard, blood-dripping hands shaking violently now.
Some of it had landed on his mouth but he had no reason to acknowledge it as more smoke levitated towards the sky.
Not from the village but farther away toward his father’s land.
His blood turned ice cold instantly.
Running harder than he ever had in his life, straight further into the forest.
Branches tore at his face and clothes while sweat soaked through linen despite the freezing night air, chest burning and vision blurring.
Once he reached the clearing, nearly stopped breathing.
The structure he and his father had built by hand was being devoured entirely by towering flames, roof already collapsing inward while British oppressors circled nearby assessing livestock pens and storage huts.
But Remmick barely saw them because you weren’t outside captured by those intruders.
Terror unlike anything he’d ever known ripped through him as he sprinted forward immediately.
Ignoring shouts and danger.
One soldier lunged toward him and Remmick slammed the man aside hard enough t’crack him against that same fence he had repaired today, all before bursting through the burning doorway.
Smoke hit him instantly and he coughed violently while stumbling deeper inside.
“Mo chroí—!”
Flames roared overhead, heat felt unbearable as wild blue eyes searched desperately through smoke and collapsing beams.
Your body was laying motionless near the far side of the room half-buried beneath fallen debris.
He dropped beside you instantly, hands trembling violently as he pulled at broken wood and burning straw until finally reaching your body.
“Wake up,” he coughed desperately. “C’mon, wake up fer me—”
Smoke invaded his lungs viciously now, every breath hurt while he kept trying t’pull you upward despite weakening arms.
His hand cradled your face gently through soot and ash.
“Please,” he whispered brokenly. “Don’t leave me alone—”
The ceiling groaned above, roof giving in with a deafening crash and the entire burning structure collapsed down upon you both whole.
Darkness breathed over the valley, village beyond the hills no longer carrying life but only smoke remained, ash drifted through the cold air in slow spirals and somewhere beneath the collapsed ruins of what once had been a huge barn, something moved one entire night after the invasion.
Wood shifting, a faint crack beneath stone and charred beams before suddenly a blackened support timber burst upward violently from the debris pile.
Ash exploded into the air and a filthy and bloodied hand emerged next.
Remmick dragged himself free from the wreckage with a broken gasp that sounded less human than animal now, collapsing hard onto scorched earth while smoke curled from the ruins around him.
For several long moments he remained there on hands and knees.
His entire body shook violently beneath layers of soot and burned wood dust, torn linen clung to skin blackened with ash while old burns crawled across his arms and shoulders in angry red streaks already healing unnaturally fast beneath the dirt.
The night wind swept cold over him, yet he barely felt it.
Silence filled his chest completely, no pulse thundered beneath his ribs anymore.
A violent ringing filled his ears next.
Too much sound from the entire forest exploding awake around him at once.
Fluttering heartbeat of rabbits hidden beneath roots.
He could hear their pulse and every frantic little heartbeat surrounding the clearing struck his ears with horrifying clarity.
Remmick staggered upright instantly, clutching both hands against his skull.
One hand flew toward his mouth just as elongated fangs slid painfully downward, the sight nearly made him recoil from himself.
Every heartbeat around him called instinctively toward something deep inside him he did not understand.
A predatory hunger, eyes darted wildly across the clearing before landing back upon the ruins, drifting to one of his elongated and sharp fingers and seeing a ring there.
Memory crashed into him hard immediately.
“Mo chroí—”
He moved faster than thought itself, sudden speed nearly throwing him off balance as desperation swallowed everything else whole, dropping to his knees beside the collapsed remains of the home and starting tearing through debris barehanded.
Massive beams that should have taken several men to move were shoved aside violently with terrifying ease.
Burned stones cracked beneath his grip while splintered wood scattered across the clearing from his inhuman strength.
“Please—” More debris flew aside, the scent of ash and burned hay coated everything.
“Please, please…”
He dug faster, hands shredding apart blackened wreckage almost effortlessly now while glowing embers burned harmlessly against his skin.
Nothing.
The more he searched, the worse the dread became as his movements grew wilder and desperate.
A roar tore suddenly from his throat as he hurled an entire support post across the clearing hard enough t’smash apart the remaining fence nearby.
No body or sign, only ruin.
Remmick finally stopped moving.
He remained kneeling amidst the wreckage, hands blackened with soot and blood while smoke drifted endlessly around him beneath the dead sky, completely alone.
Note: curious to know if anyone would be interested in a part two <3
In ancient Ireland, you loved the farmer's son, rough-handed, sharp-tongued and devastatingly handsome. Many years spent together while sneaking around, enjoying each other’s company and the endless nights of no sleep. One night, he pulled you deep into the forest away from everyone else to make you his entirely… that same night his entire world was destroyed.
part 2: the one where Remmick finds his lost husband reborn and the old spirits decide they’ve suffered long enough.
