samera

19🐾

[sameranocturne]

I keep it short and sweet here🐾

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└──➤ dm me for any questions or requests

abt me: 19 || she/her || minors dni 🐶

🐾 i write for multiple fandoms and it’ll all be organized within its own masterlists so navigation shouldn’t be difficult!!

[sameranocturne]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ syp: fresh out of nursing school, all you wanted was to survive the night shift and come home to your handsome boyfriend. Then all of a sudden, Suguru let his best friend Gojo Satoru move into your spare bedroom, and suddenly your peaceful apartment became a lot more crowded.

tags/cw: sfw🖤

a/n: hi guys, i’m excited abt this one. if yall want to see this turn into an actual story go follow my wattpad: sxmera i promise there will be a lot of character and world building (at least more than i can do on tumblr.) Enjoy!!

Working the night shift in the ICU wasn’t for everyone, but somewhere between twelve-hour shifts, lukewarm coffee, and the quiet drive home as the rest of the city woke up, you’d found a routine you loved.

Most nights, you clocked in at 7:00 p.m. and didn’t leave until 7:00 a.m., returning home just as the sun peeked over the skyline. It was exhausting, but it was yours.

The best part was coming home to Suguru.

Your boyfriend rarely left for work before 10:00 a.m., which meant the two of you always managed to steal a few hours together before he headed into the office and you crawled into bed. Whether it was sharing breakfast, watching the morning news in comfortable silence, or simply existing in the same space, those quiet moments had become your favorite part of the day.

Suguru had worked his way to the top of a corporate firm through equal parts charm, intelligence, and relentless networking. Between his career and your position as a newly graduated ICU nurse, the two of you had somehow built a life neither of you expected to have so soon after college.

As the elevator climbed toward your shared penthouse, you leaned against the mirrored wall, already looking forward to kicking off your shoes and pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist for a few hours.

You had no idea how quickly that peaceful routine was about to change.

As you made your way down the familiar hallway toward your penthouse, a small smile tugged at your lips. No matter how draining your shift had been, the thought of seeing Suguru always made the exhaustion a little easier to bear.

The two of you had met sophomore year of college through a campus running club and had been inseparable ever since. Over the years, you’d learned almost everything there was to know about him—the way he absentmindedly hummed while cooking, how he always stole the blankets in his sleep, and that he somehow never forgot the little things that mattered to you.

There were only a few parts of his life he kept tucked away.

His best friend was one of them.

You knew the name Gojo Satoru. How could you not? He’d been practically legendary around campus. You’d seen the pictures, heard the stories, and knew he and Suguru met up whenever their schedules aligned. Somehow, despite dating Suguru for years, your paths had never crossed.

Whenever you asked about him, Suguru would just laugh.

“You wouldn’t like him,” he’d say. “He’s unbelievably annoying.”

You’d always laughed it off.

Sliding your key into the lock, you pushed the front door open.

“I’m home,” you called, toeing off your shoes.

“I told you she’d be back around now.”

Your brows knit together.

That wasn’t Suguru.

You looked up from where you were setting your bag down and froze.

Leaning casually against the kitchen island was a tall man with messy white hair, dark sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and a grin that looked entirely too pleased with itself.

“So,” he said, tilting his head as if he were inspecting you. “You’re the girlfriend.”

From the dining table, Suguru let out a quiet sigh.

“Welcome home.”

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your work bag as your gaze flickered between the two of them.

So… this is Gojo Satoru.

“And you’re the best friend?” you asked, a tired smile tugging at your lips.

He pointed to himself dramatically.

“The one and only.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Gojo blinked.

“…That’s it?”

You laughed softly.

“Were you expecting something else?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “A scream. Maybe you’d throw me out.”

“I’ve spent the last twelve hours in the ICU,” you said, slipping your shoes onto the rack by the door. “I don’t think I have the energy to throw anybody anywhere.”

His grin somehow widened.

“Oh, we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Across the room, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I was hoping for the exact opposite.”

“Good morning, babe.”

You smiled softly as you walked over to Suguru, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his temple.

For a moment, everything felt normal.

Then your eyes flickered back toward the unfamiliar face sitting across from you.

“So…” you started, looking between the two of them. “Why didn’t you tell me Gojo was coming over? I would’ve made sure I was home sooner. I feel bad keeping him waiting.”

You squeezed Suguru’s shoulder, making sure he knew you weren’t upset—just confused.

“Satoru is fine,” Suguru reassured you.

The man in question looked up at the sound of his name, his sharp blue eyes meeting yours. They were almost unsettling, not because they were intimidating, but because they felt like they noticed everything.

Too much, maybe.

“I promise I’m not waiting on anyone,” Gojo said casually, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Before you could respond, Suguru gently took your hand from his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. He’s just visiting for a bit.”

His words were meant to comfort you, but something about them made your brows furrow slightly.

Just visiting?

You glanced between him and Gojo, feeling like you had somehow walked into a conversation that started before you arrived.

Suguru gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Go get some rest, okay? You just got off a twelve-hour shift.”

“Go get some rest, okay? You just got off a twelve-hour shift.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up with you before the words could.

“Okay…” you mumbled, forcing a small smile.

As you turned toward the hallway, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Suguru was hiding something.

Not necessarily something bad.

Just something he hadn’t told you yet.

You pushed the thought aside, blaming it on exhaustion. After all, you had just finished another twelve-hour shift, and your brain was probably looking for something to overanalyze.

Thankfully, you didn’t have another shift for the next two days.

You showered, changed into something comfortable, and settled into bed with a familiar show playing quietly in the background. It was the perfect way to unwind after a long night.

Everything was perfect.

Or at least, it should’ve been.

That small feeling in your chest still lingered.

You glanced over at the clock.

9:27 a.m.

Suguru should’ve already come in to say goodbye.

It was a small thing, something most people probably wouldn’t even notice, but it was part of your routine. Even on busy mornings, he always came to check on you before leaving—usually with a kiss, a reminder to get some rest, and some comments about how beautiful you look.

You paused your show.

Curiosity got the better of you.

You quietly stepped out of the bedroom and made your way back into the living room.

The sight in front of you made you stop.

Suguru and Gojo were sitting across from each other, their conversation much more serious than the playful energy from earlier.

Gojo had his usual relaxed posture, but his expression was different. Less teasing. More thoughtful.

Suguru noticed you first.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Your eyebrows lifted.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Suguru answered a little too quickly.

That alone made you suspicious.

You leaned against the doorway, crossing your arms.

“Okay… then why does it look like I walked in on a secret meeting?”

Gojo’s lips twitched, clearly amused.

“She’s observant.”

“Satoru.”

“What? She is.”

You looked between the two of them, waiting.

Finally, Suguru sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You already knew that sentence was never followed by anything simple.

“Satoru recently accepted a new position,” Suguru explained. “It’s a really good opportunity for him, but it’s farther away from where he’s currently living.”

You glanced over at Gojo.

“So you’re moving?”

“Eventually,” Gojo answered. “I’m trying to find a place closer to work, but the timing has been… less than ideal.”

Suguru nodded.

“He just needs somewhere to stay while he gets everything sorted out. Somewhere temporary until he’s back on his feet.”

Your eyes widened slightly.

“Stay?”

Suguru looked at you carefully.

“Here.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything.

Because technically, there was a spare bedroom.

And technically, Gojo was Suguru’s best friend.

But this was your home. The place you came back to after exhausting nights at the hospital. The one space where your life was quiet, predictable, and yours.

And now Suguru was asking you to share it.

With Gojo Satoru.

Gojo noticed your hesitation and immediately raised his hands.

“Before you say anything, I promise I am a very respectful roommate.”

You looked at him.

“You’re saying that like I have a reason not to believe you.”

“Exactly,” he said, completely serious.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped.

Suguru smiled softly at the reaction.

“Only until he finds somewhere permanent. It won’t be forever.”

You looked at Suguru.

This was important to him.

And despite the uncertainty, despite the sudden change to the routine you loved so much, you trusted him.

“Okay.”

Both men looked at you.

“Okay?” Suguru repeated.

You nodded.

“Okay. He can stay.”

Gojo smiled.

“Wow. I’m touched. She likes me already.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Satoru was a good roommate.

A great one, even.

He moved in the following week and, much to your surprise, had been nothing but helpful. He kept the shared spaces clean, always replaced anything he used, and somehow managed to make the apartment feel a little less quiet without completely disrupting your routine.

You had expected chaos.

Instead, you got someone who reminded you to eat when you came home exhausted and occasionally left coffee waiting for you after your shifts.

Suguru, however, was a different story.

Not in a way that you could quite explain.

He still loved you. He still kissed you goodbye and held you close when you came home. But lately, it felt like he was carefully keeping a little bit of distance between you and Satoru.

Like he was trying to manage two separate parts of his life instead of letting them exist together.

You tried not to think too much about it.

You were probably just tired.

Your nap was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing.

Groggily, you reached over and grabbed it, wiping the sleep from your eyes before answering.

“Hello?

A small yawn slipped through your words, your eyes watering from being pulled awake too quickly.

“Hello, babe? Can you hear me?”

Suguru’s voice came through the speaker, slightly frantic.

“Mhm,” you hummed, still half asleep.

“Can you bring me some files? I left them on the kitchen counter, and they’re really important. I need them by 4:30.”

You glanced over at your alarm clock.

1:17 p.m.

You sighed softly.

“Sure thing, babe. I’ll have them there before then.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

The call ended before you could even respond.

You stared at your phone for a second.

“Love you too,” you mumbled to the empty room.

You pushed yourself out of bed and headed toward your closet, trading your pajamas for something a little more presentable. You figured showing up to Suguru’s office looking like you’d just crawled out of a coma probably wasn’t the best impression.

Once you were ready, you grabbed the files from the kitchen counter and headed toward the door.

That’s when you noticed Satoru sitting comfortably on the couch, his attention focused on whatever was playing on his phone.

You smiled.

“Hi, Satoru.”

He looked up, and a grin immediately appeared on his face.

“Hello, sleeping beauty.”

He chuckled, setting his phone down.

“I’m guessing you’re headed somewhere?”

“I’m dropping these off to Suguru,” you said, lifting the files. “But I was going to stop by that café near his office on the way there.”

You hesitated for a moment before adding,

“Do you want to come with me?”

The question lingered in Satoru’s mind for a moment before a familiar, mischievous grin spread across his face.

“I’d love to accompany you.”

Before you could respond, he took the files from your hands and headed toward the door like the decision had already been made.

You laughed quietly, following after him.

“So what job did you accept that made you move all the way out here?”

Satoru glanced back at you, his expression softening slightly.

“A teaching job.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I used to work as a personal trainer at a gym near my old apartment, but teaching has always been something I’ve wanted to do.”

There was a confidence in the way he said it that made you smile.

“Aww,” you cooed. “What grade?”

“Freshmen in high school,” he answered proudly. “I’m also going to be the baseball coach.”

“That’s actually so exciting,” you said. “I’m sure you’ll do amazing.”

For a moment, he was quiet.

Then he laughed softly.

“How can you say that?”

You looked over at him.

“What?”

“Suguru keeps us at arm’s-length distance all the time.”

The comment caught you off guard.

You looked away, pretending to focus on the hallway ahead.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Satoru hummed.

“But you noticed.”

You didn’t answer.

Because unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

“I just have a feeling,” you admitted.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“You know, I don’t think Suguru does it because he doesn’t trust you.”

You looked at him.

“He has his reasons for keeping me away.”

There was something almost amused in his tone.

“He knows me pretty well.”

You tilted your head.

“What does that mean?”

Satoru stopped walking for a moment, turning to face you.

“Relax, Angel.”

The nickname made you pause.

“I just mean Suguru knows I’m a lot.”

You laughed.

“That, I believe.”

He grinned.

“But I think he also knows I notice things.”

Your smile faded slightly.

“Like what?”

Satoru looked at you for a moment before answering.

“Like how you look exhausted after your shifts but still ask everyone else if they’re okay first.”

You blinked.

“Like how you pretend you aren’t bothered when Suguru keeps things from you.”

Your expression shifted.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“And like how you’ve spent years hearing about me but never actually meeting me.”

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside.

“I don’t think that’s an accident.”

You followed him, quieter now.

Because maybe he was right.

Maybe Suguru wasn’t hiding something bad.

But maybe he was hiding something at all.

And for the first time, you wondered why.

The rest of the way to Suguru’s office was surprisingly easy.

You expected Satoru to be overwhelming, but he wasn’t.

He asked about your job, listened when you talked about nursing, and somehow managed to turn a simple walk into a conversation that felt effortless. Maybe Suguru had been slightly dramatic when he warned you about him.

Or maybe you were starting to understand why the two of them had been friends for so long.

By the time you reached Suguru’s office, you found yourself a little less hesitant than before.

The familiar building greeted you as you walked inside, the polished floors and quiet atmosphere a complete contrast to the chaos of your apartment.

You made your way toward Suguru’s office, files in hand, with Satoru casually following beside you.

The moment you stepped inside, Suguru looked up from his desk.

His expression softened immediately when he saw you.

“Hey.”

You smiled.

“Hi. I brought your files.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking them from you before giving a kiss on the cheek. “I appreciate it.”

Before you could respond, his eyes shifted toward the person standing behind you.

Satoru.

And just like that, Suguru’s expression changed.

Not surprised.

Not confused.

Annoyed.

“Satoru.”

The white-haired man smiled innocently.

“What?”

“You came with her.”

“I was invited.”

“She was being nice”

“Still counts.”

You looked between them, trying not to laugh.

“You two always like this?”

“Yes,” Suguru answered immediately.

“No,” Satoru said at the same time.

You laughed softly.

Suguru sighed, already looking tired.

Because he knew.

He knew exactly what Satoru was doing.

The second Gojo Satoru decided he liked someone, he made it his personal mission to get a reaction out of them. He was charming, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

And unfortunately for Suguru…

You were exactly the type of person Satoru would find interesting.

“How was your day?” Suguru asked you, purposely redirecting the conversation.

“Good,” you answered. “Long, but good.”

“See?” Satoru interrupted. “She’s nice.”

You glanced at him.

“Thank you… I think?”

“You should hear Suguru talk about you.”

Your eyes moved to Suguru.

“Satoru.”

“What?” he said, grinning. “It’s true.”

Suguru gave him a look that clearly said stop talking.

And for the first time, you realized something.

Suguru wasn’t worried about you meeting Satoru.

He was worried about Satoru meeting you.

Go follow my wattpad to read more: sxmera

[sameranocturne]

guys i’m sorry for being a bum and never finishing stories😬

[sameranocturne]

guys lmk smth ⤵️⤵️

next obey me fic:

Shopping spree with mammon (sfw)

The brothers do smth to make mc mad, now they have to apologize (sfw/nsfw)

drop recs in the comments ⤵️⤵️😄

Voting ended onJun 5

[sameranocturne]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ sum: Belphegor woke up from a nap and couldn’t find his brothers anywhere. Turns out they were all in your room

tags: gn!xreader, sfw!

𐙚 a/n: hii this is taken place after lessons 15-17 but there’s no spoilersss! this is also just a little idea i had to get back into the groove of writing!

Belphegor slowly stirred from his nap on the common room couch, blinking away the last traces of sleep. The room was unusually quiet.

Too quiet.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, letting out a yawn as he stretched. Usually, one of his brothers was causing some kind of commotion. Mammon would be yelling about money, Levi would be ranting about a game, or Beel would be searching for food.

But today?

Nothing.

Belphegor glanced around the empty room before making his way to the kitchen. Maybe Beel was grabbing a snack.

The kitchen was empty.

He checked the library next. Satan was almost always there.

No sign of him either.

Now fully awake, Belphegor wandered through the halls of the House of Lamentation, peeking into room after room.

Nobody.

As he rounded the corner near the spare bedroom, a burst of laughter drifted down the hallway.

Voices.

Lots of them.

Belphegor paused.

Oh.

Right.

Your room.

As he approached, he found Lucifer leaning against the doorframe, quietly observing the scene inside.

Lucifer glanced over and noticed him.

“There you are, Belphegor,” he said. “You were asleep. We didn’t want to wake you. Everyone’s here.”

Belphegor looked past him.

The small spare bedroom was completely packed.

You and Levi sat on your bed, controllers clutched in your hands as a racing game played on the television. Your eyes never left the screen.

Levi looked moments away from a breakdown.

“No way! How are you this good?” he shouted. “You’re a normie! This isn’t fair!”

You laughed as your character sped past him once again.

To your left, Mammon and Asmodeus had appointed themselves your personal cheer squad.

“That’s it! Take the shortcut!” Mammon shouted.

“No, use the drift button!” Asmo corrected.

Mammon promptly began waving his hand in front of Levi’s face.

“Quit cheating!” Levi screeched.

“I’m not cheatin’! You’re just bad!”

The room erupted into laughter.

Belphegor found himself smiling before he even realized it.

Across the bed, Beel sat comfortably on the floor between your legs with a pile of snacks beside him. Every so often, he’d silently offer you something to eat while keeping one eye on the race.

At your desk, Satan sat with a book open in his lap. Despite appearing absorbed in his reading, he glanced up every few pages whenever the room got particularly loud.

Everyone was here.

Together.

Somehow, your tiny room had become warmer than any other place in the house.

Without realizing it, you had become the center of their strange little family.

Belphegor watched for a moment longer before your eyes finally met his.

Your face immediately brightened.

“Belphie!”

You patted the empty spot beside you on the bed.

“There you are. Come sit with us.”

The smile that spread across Belphegor’s face was small, but genuine.

For someone who loved sleeping more than anything, he couldn’t think of a better place to be.

[sameranocturne]

OBEY ME!

Content Warning: Some stories may contain graphic or NSFW material. Please read with care. All posts are appropriately tagged — reach out if anything needs updating

a/n: Okayy, so I actually write for Obey Me a little differently. Even though they’re all oneshots (maybe I’ll throw in a little series eventually, idk yet), everything takes place in the same universe, with stories possibly bleeding into one another. It’s just a writing technique I wanna experiment with!

ALL BROTHERS

“where did everyone go?” -sfw!

MAMMON

“Shopping Spree.” - coming soon!!!

[sameranocturne]

♱ JUJUTSU KAISEN ♱

Content Warning: Some stories may contain graphic or NSFW material. Please read with care. All posts are appropriately tagged — reach out if anything needs updating

GOJO SATORU

“Sit. Stay.” - coming soon!!

Second Nature - sfw

GETO SUGURU

Second Nature - sfw

[sameranocturne]

SINNERS MASTERLIST⛓️

Content Warning: Some stories may contain graphic or NSFW material. Please read with care. All posts are appropriately tagged — reach out if anything needs updating

REMMICK

“Let Me Eat You.” - nsfw one shot

Whispers of Hunger - nsfw one shot

[sameranocturne]

guys how do we feel abt puppy play lmk⤵️⤵️

[sameranocturne]

Whispers of Hunger

a/n: hello guys! this story is 8,900 words, which is seriously an accomplishment for me lol. please comment and give feedback and let me know if you guys want another part to this or just leave it as a one shot. anyways enjoy!

c/w: Remmick x black f!ab reader. This story contains explicit sexual content (including oral f!receiving, PIV sex, and rough but consensual smut), monster/vampire x reader dynamics, possessive and emotionally intense interactions, and themes of longing, isolation, and found connection. Reader discretion is advised.

In a world where even breathing the wrong way could get you killed, love wasn’t just dangerous. It was a death sentence. You’d long since resigned yourself to loneliness, convinced you’d never bring a child into this broken world, and so you kept your heart barricaded, your body to yourself.

Until you met him.

The man who came banging on your door before dawn, bloodied and gasping, like a half-dead thing clawing for salvation. He was ragged, his eyes wild and desperate as they met yours, his hair slick with blood and sweat, sticking to his brow. He looked less like a monster and more like a lost boy, and against every survival instinct screaming in your head, you let him in.

You should have turned him away. You should have slammed the door shut. But when he collapsed against your floorboards, trembling, begging, “Please, don’t leave me out there,” you couldn’t say no.

You told yourself it was pity. But it wasn’t. It was the way his eyes met yours, not just pleading for help, but pulling something raw and aching from deep inside you. It was the way his bloodied hands shook when you cleaned him, the way he flinched from your touch but leaned into it a second later.

He seemed so helpless in that moment, wounded, shivering against your touch, but he wouldn’t fully surrender. His body leaned into you, but it was as though his heart remained barricaded, locked tight behind walls built from pain and shadows. You could feel it in the way his muscles tensed when you touched him, the way his eyes flickered with something deeper, darker. Something monstrous. Something dangerous. But instead of recoiling, you found yourself wanting to see it. You wanted him to open up, to let you into the darkness he was trying so hard to contain.

You knew this decision could get you killed. But in that moment, you didn’t care. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something sharp and alive stirring beneath the numbness. Something that made your blood sing and your breath catch. And when his eyes met yours, desperate and hollow, you realized that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling it too.

“Do you need a place to stay, sir?” Your voice wavered, the words barely a whisper. He intimidated you, towering over you, raw and bloodied, but for some reason, you wanted him to stay.

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a burden to ya.” His voice had a thick southern drawl, the kind that melted like honey and curled low in your belly.

Your eyes softened instinctively, betraying your better judgment. “Don’t worry, you won’t be a burden,” you said quickly, voice hushed as if you were telling a secret meant only for him. “I actually get lonely here by myself.”

His lips twitched, the hint of a crooked smile almost disarming. “Lonely?” His voice dipped lower, rough and intimate. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here by yourself?”

You couldn’t help the way your thighs pressed together, a subtle reaction to his words. “Well…I’m sure a handsome guy like you has a wife worried sick about you,” you murmured, your attempt to change the subject coming out softer, almost shy.

“Mm, I ain’t married, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice dropping a note darker. His eyes swept over you slowly, the weight of his gaze almost physical, tightening the air between you. It wasn’t just a look, it was a silent promise of things he hadn’t said yet, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to run or lean into it.

For a long moment, the room held its breath. His hand twitched as if he were going to reach for you, but it hovered there, close enough that you could feel the ghost of his touch. His lips parted slightly, his voice dropping to a low, hoarse whisper. “But I’ll admit…I’ve been looking for something, someone, who makes me feel alive again.” His eyes caught yours then, dark and unreadable, and for the briefest moment, you could swear there was something ancient in his gaze. Something wild and hollow, as if he’d spent lifetimes searching for a connection he couldn’t name.

You couldn’t speak at first. His words—the weight of them, the ancient cadence in his voice stole the air from your lungs. But slowly, carefully, you found your voice.

“Who…who are you?”

“My name’s Remmick, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips curving faintly. Then his voice dropped lower, more intimate, and his eyes gleamed with a deep, unnatural red. “And I’m a vampire.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened, shock flaring bright, but still, you didn’t step back. You stayed quiet, watching him. He hadn’t hurt you. Not yet. And that terrifying, forbidden curiosity pulsed stronger in your veins than the fear.

“A vampire, huh?” you murmured softly, trying for levity though your voice trembled. “Are you…are you going to eat me now, Remmick?” You said it with a shaky laugh, as though humor might diffuse the tension.

His smile deepened, dark and hungry, his voice rougher than before. “Only if you want me to, sweetheart.” He stepped closer, closing the space between you, until you could feel the faint chill of his breath against your skin. Your heart was pounding so loud it echoed in your ears, each beat thudding like a warning, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. All you could do was stand there, wondering, fearing, what he was planning to do to you.

Then, he bent down, his lips ghosting a kiss to your forehead, so gentle it made your breath hitch. Another kiss followed at your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, each one lingering just a moment too long.

His lips hovered near your skin as he murmured into your jawline, voice low and rough. “I’m a monster, and you’re hated by this world just for existing. We’re hated for being us.” His words sank into your chest, heavy and sharp. “But don’t you see, sweetheart? We’re made for each other. We could be so happy together, my love.”

A flicker of pain gripped your heart, tightening around your ribs. The truth in his words, about the cruelty of the world, the isolation you both felt, tangled with something darker. Something forbidden.

“Mm, you think so?” you whispered, your voice trembling as his pull wrapped around you like chains. His temptation was too thick, too sweet, and you were struggling to say no.

“Baby,” he growled softly, “I know so.”

Before you could think of a reply, he slid his hands down to your waist, his grip both firm and reverent. Then he sank to his knees before you, his face pressing into your belly. His lips found the thin fabric of your linen dress, leaving a soft kiss against your abdomen, then another, slower and more lingering. When he looked up at you, his eyes were the same as earlier, desperate, pleading, dangerous.

You still didn’t speak. Instead, your hand drifted to his hair, your fingers threading through his curls, nails grazing lightly against his scalp. His eyelids fluttered closed, and with a sigh, he pressed his cheek against your stomach, as if seeking solace.

“In all honesty,” he murmured, his voice cracking faintly with need, “I need you. So bad. You’re so damn beautiful.” One of his hands slipped from your waist, sliding down to lift the hem of your dress, revealing the smooth expanse of your thighs. His breath hitched as he gazed up at you, his hunger palpable.

For a moment, the air between you felt suspended, every breath drawn thin and tight. Then his voice dropped lower, almost broken. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby. You make me want to forget what I am, forget the danger. I want to lose myself in you. Would you let me?”

The moment the word left your lips—a trembling, breathless “yes”—Remmick froze. His breath hitched against your skin, as though the air between you had turned electric. Then a low, almost broken groan slipped from his throat, and his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Oh, sweetheart…” His voice was raw with hunger and gratitude, as if that single word unlocked something primal inside him. His lips trailed kisses up your belly, your ribs, until they hovered just below your lips. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

He whispered “mine” into your skin as if branding you, as if your whispered yes gave him permission to claim you in every way he’d ever dreamed of.

Remmick moved quickly, his hunger sharp and barely restrained. He scooped you up into his arms like you weighed nothing, his grip firm but reverent. Without hesitation, he carried you down the hallway, as though he already knew where your bedroom was. As if your scent and presence alone guided him.

He laid you down gently on the bed, the mattress creaking under your weight, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Then he straightened, his fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt, the leather straps of his suspenders slipping off his shoulders.

But you stopped him with a quiet, breathless, “Wait.”

He froze, his hands stilling, his eyes locked onto yours, trying to read the swirl of emotion crossing your face. His lips parted slightly, as though the words forming in his throat were too big to speak.

“Let me do it for you,” you whispered, voice trembling with a mix of boldness and vulnerability.

His heart ached, a sharp pang in his chest that felt far too human for a creature like him. His breath caught, and he nodded, stepping closer.

You scooted down to the foot of the bed, your fingers fumbling lightly over the buttons of his shirt. With every button undone, the tension thickened between you, the anticipation crackling like a storm in the air. When you finally slid the shirt off his broad shoulders, you let it fall to the floor, your breath hitching as you took him in.

His body was all hard lines and muscle, his skin marked with old scars and stories you could only imagine. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, his lips parted slightly as he watched you. You reached up, your fingertips tracing along the ridges of his chest, marveling at the strength beneath your touch. Without thinking, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the spot over his unbeating heart.

Remmick’s gaze softened instantly, his red eyes dimming to a smoldering glow. For a moment, he looked almost human—like a man instead of a monster. You made him feel alive.

Your hands drifted lower, fingers working at the waistband of his pants. You slipped his belt free with a quiet rustle, unbuttoned and unzipped them slowly, your movements deliberate, teasing. The air between you tightened as you eased the fabric down his hips, revealing more of the man who was already beginning to undo you without even trying.

Before you could slip the fabric further, Remmick’s hands covered yours, his grip firm but not harsh. His breath trembled against your skin, his voice soft but thick with hunger. “Sweetheart, you’re making it hard to be gentle with you.” But then he eased your hands aside, brushing a tender kiss against your temple. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

Slowly, he stepped out of his pants, his body revealing itself to you fully, every inch of him tense with need. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Lie back for me,” he murmured, his tone low but coaxing, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt you. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel, baby. You deserve to be worshipped.”

His hands roamed over your body like he was memorizing you, his touch alternating between rough, possessive squeezes and delicate, reverent strokes. His body trembled with restraint, as though he were barely holding himself back from devouring you whole. “You feel so fucking good under me,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ve been craving you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

With practiced ease, he slid the thin straps of your nightdress from your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down your body like water until it pooled at your feet, leaving you in only your bra and panties. His breath hitched as his gaze swept over you, hunger flashing in his dark eyes.

He whispered something low under his breath, words you couldn’t quite catch, thick with need, but the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears drowned it out.

Before you could dwell on it, he gently lifted one of your legs, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin. Slowly, methodically, he trailed his mouth down your calf, your knee, your thigh, each kiss a silent promise of what was to come.

By the time his lips reached the delicate skin near your center, you were already trembling beneath his touch. His breath was hot against the thin fabric of your panties, and his voice was a low, aching growl. “I can smell how ready you are for me, sweetheart. Let me show you what it feels like to be wanted.”

His hands slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down with agonizing slowness. He kept his eyes locked on yours, his pupils blown wide with desire. His lips ghosted over the inside of your thigh, his tongue tracing lazy patterns against your skin as though he were tasting you with his mouth before even reaching your core. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, voice low and raw. “So perfect, all for me. Let me make you come apart, baby.”

Then he dove in, his mouth sealing over you, his tongue making one slow, agonizing lick that sent a shudder rippling through your entire body. It was slow, deliberate, designed to make you feel every inch of his mouth against you. It pulled a soft, helpless whimper from your lips, your body surrendering completely, offering yourself to him without resistance.

Remmick groaned low against you, the sound vibrating through your core as he continued. He didn’t just lick—you felt his lips, his tongue, his need pressing into you like he was tasting salvation. He feasted on you with slow, sinful strokes, savoring the slickness of your cunt, his mouth so hot and skilled it drove you to the edge of sanity.

Quiet whimpers escaped your lips, each one coaxing him to go harder, to push deeper. His free hand slid up, fingers teasing at your entrance, tracing the sensitive folds, spreading your wetness with deliberate intent. His touch was maddening, soft yet commanding, pushing you closer to unraveling.

Then, abruptly, he pulled back, and the absence of his mouth on you snapped you back to reality. His lips glistened with your slick, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice dark and reverent. “All wet and trembling. You’re perfect, baby. So perfect for me.”

Before you could respond, he gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. His voice was low, a dark promise against your skin. “From now on, I want you to look at me. Don’t close your eyes, sweetheart. If you do, I’ll stop.” His breath ghosted over your sensitive skin, and the heat of his mouth made you ache for more.

“But I don’t want you to stop,” you whimpered, dread curling in your belly at the thought of him withholding your pleasure.

“Then be a good girl for me,” he growled softly, his eyes locked on yours, a dangerous tenderness flickering in their depths. “Keep your eyes open. Watch me while I make you fall apart.”

With a low groan, he sank his fingers into your dripping entrance, two thick digits stretching you open while his mouth descended again. His tongue flicked against your clit with maddening precision, his fingers working in tandem, curling to hit that perfect spot inside you. Every movement was calculated to tear the breath from your lungs, to drive you higher. His eyes burned into yours, demanding your attention, as if he were memorizing every inch of your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured against you.

Your head fell back instinctively, but his voice—low, commanding, threaded with hunger—pulled you back. “Eyes on me,” he growled, his free hand tilting your chin so you couldn’t look away. His eyes locked onto yours, glowing with a mix of possessive hunger and something almost tender. As his fingers curled deeper inside you, his mouth sucking your clit with sinful precision, you shattered. You came apart under his gaze, your body convulsing, your voice caught in a helpless cry that tore through the room. But even as you broke, even as your vision blurred and your body trembled, you kept your eyes on him, and the way he drank you in made you feel like you were his entire world.

“That was just a taste,” Remmick growled against your thigh, his breath hot, his lips slick with your release. His fingers didn’t stop—if anything, they moved faster, curling deep inside you, his thumb circling your clit in maddening, relentless strokes. “I need to feel you break for me one more time.” His voice was a rough whisper, a demand and a promise all at once, and the desperation in his tone sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you. Your body tensed, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the pleasure built higher and higher, winding you so tight it felt like you’d snap. And then you did—your climax hit you hard, rippling through every nerve, pulling a helpless cry from your throat. Even as your walls clenched around his fingers, even as you fell apart, you could feel his body shifting against yours, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh, a silent threat that this was far from over.

Remmick’s lips trailed back up your trembling body, his mouth catching yours in a kiss that was almost bruising with its intensity. His hands roamed your skin like he couldn’t get enough, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you before he lost himself completely. Without a word, he pushed his pants down the rest of the way, his cock pressing hot and heavy against your slick entrance. His voice was a low growl against your lips. “I need you now, baby. Can I have you?” His tip nudged against your soaked folds, his hands gripping your hips like a man on the verge of breaking. When you gave him the softest nod, whispering a breathless, “Yes, Remmick. Please,” he lined himself up and pushed in, slow and thick, stretching you open inch by inch until you were filled with nothing but him.

“Remmick, please go slow,” you pleaded, tears starting to form in your eyes. It hurt so good. His heart skipped a beat—you looked so angelic under him, begging him to be gentle, the tears glimmering in your eyes. He just couldn’t get enough.

“Yes, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough promise against your lips. “I’ll be gentle with you.” He moved slowly at first, his hips rolling into yours with controlled precision, his hands framing your face as he kissed you deeply. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there, leaving marks that claimed you as his. His body trembled with restraint, fighting the urge to completely lose himself in you. You were too perfect, too soft, and he wanted to savor every second.

You let out the prettiest moans, each one like music to his ears, each breathless sound a confirmation that you were his and only his. No one else would have accepted him like you did, no one else would have surrendered so beautifully to the monster he was.

Your hands slid up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to you, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “You can go faster now…Please, Remmick. I want all of you.”

You didn’t have to ask twice.

A guttural growl rumbled from his chest as he gripped your hips tighter, angling himself to thrust deeper, harder. His pace quickened, each stroke powerful and deliberate, as if he were trying to reach parts of you no one else had ever touched. It was like he was trying to touch your very soul, branding himself into your body, into your mind, into every part of you he could claim as his.

Remmick’s thrusts deepened, each one slamming into you with a need that bordered on desperation. His hands framed your face, his breath hot against your ear. “Say my name, baby,” he growled, his voice raw, thick with hunger. “I need to hear you say it. Please. I need to hear you screaming it.”

Your lips parted, but the words tangled in the air between you, lost in the pleasure coursing through your veins. He snapped his hips harder, deeper, grinding into you as his lips found yours in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, messy and unrestrained.

“Remmick,” you gasped finally, your voice breaking around his name, as if speaking it anchored you to him. His name became a mantra, a prayer on your lips as he drove into you again and again, his pace relentless.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. “Say it again. Say my name while I make you mine.” His cock filled you completely, hitting every spot that made you see stars, his hands roaming over your body like he couldn’t decide where to touch you next—your breasts, your hips, your throat, your jaw.

“Remmick,” you whimpered, louder now, your hands clawing at his back, your nails digging into his skin as your climax built higher and higher, tightening around his cock like a vice.

“Good girl,” he growled, his pace quickening, his hips slamming into yours. “That’s it. Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

And you did—your body tightening, your breath hitching, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you shattered beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing with the force of your orgasm, and the sound of your voice calling his name echoed through the room like a song.

It didn’t take him long to finish after you, his hips stuttering, a low groan tearing from his throat as he spilled hot against your chest, his breath ragged. For a moment, he just hovered there, his forehead resting against yours, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, a soft brush of lips that felt more intimate than anything else. Your eyes fluttered open and shut, heavy with exhaustion and bliss.

“You tired, baby?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough, but softened with a tenderness you hadn’t expected from him.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage, your voice a faint whisper. Your body ached in the best way possible, but it also felt empty without him. Even now, you craved the weight of him inside you, the feel of his hands, his voice. Your mind spun with fragments of his earlier words—how he said you belonged together, how he looked at you like you were salvation. And now, lying here, you felt it too. You felt that same aching pull, that connection that was deeper than flesh.

Remmick let out a shaky breath and gently pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. His large hand moved slowly up and down your back, his touch soothing as he held you close. Your ear pressed against his chest, and you listened to the quiet hum of his breathing, the steady rise and fall that lulled you into a peaceful daze.

In the silence of the room, with your body warm against his, Remmick stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. Is this what it feels like to be human? he wondered, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your spine. Is this what it feels like to be in love?

He tightened his arms around you just a little more, as if the act of holding you closer could somehow keep this moment from slipping away.

[sameranocturne]

“Let Me Eat You.”

a/n: this is just a short one shot. I didn’t want my blog to be empty any longer😭. Hope you guys enjoy! more content is coming soon <3

c/w: explicit sexual content, including oral (f receiving), possessive/monster lover dynamics, and strong themes of yearning and intimacy

Moonlight spills in through the slats of your blinds, silver and soft, casting pale ribbons across the bed. It’s the only light in the room, and it bathes everything in a hush, like a secret being told in the dark. Your thighs tremble around his head, your breath catching as he continues to feast on you like he’s been starved for centuries.

His face glows where the light touches him—cheekbones sharp, lips glistening, eyes smoldering as he looks up at you. The kind of gaze that leaves you bare in more ways than one. You let out a fragile whimper, your fingers twisting in the sheets, overwhelmed by how much he wants you.

Slowly, he pulls back from your heat, the loss of him making you shiver. He rests his head against the plush of your inner thigh like it’s the softest pillow he’s ever known. One hand lingers, rough palm caressing the curve of your opposite leg with a touch that is both reverent and possessive.

“I’ve been starving, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice hoarse and aching. There’s something feral in it, but also tender—like hunger wrapped in silk.

You reach down, threading your fingers into his hair, stroking gently before letting your palm rest against his cheek. He leans into your touch like a prayer being answered. Then, with a slow, almost worshipful movement, he lifts your wrist to his lips.

He breathes you in, his lashes fluttering closed. “Let me eat you,” he whispers into the delicate skin, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your pulse. Then come the kisses—slow, deliberate, like he’s marking you as his with each one.

You know what he is. A monster, yes. But under the hunger, under the roughness and ruin, he’s soft with you. Gentle. Loving, in his own dangerous way.

His grip tightens just slightly, his fingers curling around your wrist like he’s afraid you might vanish. Like if he holds on hard enough, you’ll say yes.

And god—you want to.

[sameranocturne]

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