Remmick grows fond of a you.. craves you. Are you going to let him in?
Edit: The spacing at the beginning of this was bothering me. Also, for my music listening-fanfic-reading crowd, this fic was inspired by "It Will Come Back" by Hozier. Ty everyone who is enjoying it. Im delighted to know this character is popular.
did he ever sleep? Remmick looked like something that didn’t belong in anyone's yard. Hair tousled, collar open, eyes glinting unnaturally in the moonlight. His sleeves were rolled, and his hands.. god help you.
When he steps up to the porch you step back. As handsome as he was- your daddy warned you once of the devil coming in the middle of the night. If you answer, you ain’t ever comin’ home.
You didn’t open the door. You never did, but you stepped back a little less. Every night a fraction less. Tonight he could still see you in the screen. Yesterday he could only see you from the neck down.
“You know you ain’t supposed to be out here,” you called to him, quiet enough your folks wont wake. Like he would listen.
He grinned slow. Nothin but teeth.
“And yet you wait for me like clockwork, sweetness. You know what I want.” That made you shiver. Do you? You wish he was here for something else.
“Let me in,” he said, soft and wicked, pressing a palm flat to the screen “Just once. Promise I’ll be good.”
Your heart hammered. You knew better, he’d said it sweet before. It never stayed sweet. He leaned forward, so close now his breath kissed your lips through the mesh.
“You really gonna make me beg, sugar? I will. Right here in the dirt. On my knees. I’ll say please real nice.. so long as you come show me what that voice sounds like when it’s beggin’ for me.”
Your blood races south, and hell, you knew he could sense it. You saw it in the way his mouth twitched into a more cocky smile. Remmick chuckled, pushing off the door frame to pace.
“You keep playin’ at purity, but I hear how you breathe. You ain’t yer fathers god-fearing child. Not anymore.”
“You know I cant let you in.” You linger at the door. “Why do you keep tryin’?”
The thick summer air seems to grow thicker. Like that was possible.
"Can't or won't, sugar?" He murmured, voice dripping with false sympathy. "There's a difference, ye know." His eyes, they were too bright, too predatory. They could rip right through the mesh, boring into you. Seeing too much.
"You keep thinkin' you're stronger than me. Than this." He tapped a finger against the wood, once. Twice. "Than us." A third tap, harder. Remmick was losing patience. You felt like you couldn’t leave his sight. He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
Your hands find the handle of the screen door. He snaps back to the doorframe, rattling the siding of the house. You jump, nerves alight, adrenaline kickstarting.
"You can't keep fightin' it forever, doll. Sooner or later, you're gonna crack." He promises- more of a threat than anything else. Remmicks eyes reflect red in the low light, glinting with a hunger that made your blood run cold.
"Might as well be sooner. Let me in.”
“No, Remmick.” You grit. He forces a flat hand against the screen, making it rattle. Your hold onto the handle like itll keep the door from flying off.
“Its never going to stop,” he warns you, “the wantin’, the cravin’…”
“Kid, whatcha doin up?” A man’s voice calls from upstairs. Your father. You freeze. “Theres… theres a man at the door, Daddy.” You alert him.
Maybe tonight, just for tonight, this will scare Remmick off and you can reconsider. Regret settles heavy in your chest as he gives you those sad eyes. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s preparing to put on a show for your father.
He stepped back from the screen, putting space between them as the footsteps drew nearer. The door swung open, and a tall man filled the frame, his broad shoulders blocking the moonlight. He had the same features as you, but none of the softness. His eyes, a hard, flinty color, narrowed as he took in the stranger on his porch.
"Evenin', sir," Remmick drawled, playing polite. "I was just passin' through, payin' a social call to your..." His gaze flicked back to you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "... are they your kin?”
The man's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching under his skin. He stepped forward, crowding Remmick's space. Up close, the height difference was stark, the vampire having to crane his neck to maintain eye contact.
You felt like you couldnt breathe. Vampires couldnt hurt through the threshold, but out on the porch your father was good as dead. Remmick was seconds from tearing into him, you could feel it.
“Dont you know not to come knockin in the middle of the night, boy?” The father asks. You tense. Damn it- you cant risk this anymore.
“He dont mean no harm, daddy.” You force yourself to say. “He here cuz- cuz his house got a leak. The gas dont work.” You fib, making up an excuse. “God tells us to help our neighors, dont he? Gets cold at night,” you reason with your father, knowing damn well he wont let a stranger into his home.
"Is that so?" Your father asked, his voice still gruff but a touch softer. His gaze flicked to Remmick, studying him with a critical eye.
Remmick kept his expression open and honest, the very picture of a strait-laced civilian. He even managed a small, apologetic smile.
"Indeed, sir. I'm right sorry for the late hour. Didn't mean to trouble you. If you’ve got no space I’ll be right on my way.” Remmick was a smooth liar.
“You a follower of the lord, boy?” Your father asks. “Dont think I’ve seen you at church.” He steps back, opening the screen door again.
“Oh yes, yes sir. You look like a pastor, actually. I know a hardworkin’, god-fearin’ man when I see one.” Remmick lies, one foot in the entryway. “May I?” He asks. Your heart drops to your stomach as Remmick’s red gaze finds yours again.
He’s got you now.
“Oh, I don’t see why not.” Your father gives him permission. “Come on in. Im goin’ back to bed. Got sermon first thing on sunday.” Your father motions to you. “Fix him somethin’ to drink, will you? And make the guest bed for him.”
You nod stiffly. The two of you wait until you hear the bedroom door upstairs close. After that, you try to scurry off but Remmick holds you firm against the nearest wall in the house.
“I didnt think he was gonna… gonna…” you manage right before he clasps one of his hands clean over your mouth from behind, pressed up against you firm. He leaned in closer,
"Shh, sugar. Don't you go worryin' about that now," he purred, his voice low and soothing. “Its too late. You know, Your daddy's a right generous fella. Lettin’ me in to have a piece of you.”
You fight him but he’s unnaturally strong. You’re scared he’s gonna break something clean off. Remmick wipes the corner of his mouth- he was growing hungry. Ravenous.
“Tell me somethin', sugar..." He paused, letting the silence stretch between them. " Why'd you do it? Why'd you tell him I was here?" His free hand, the one not holding you down, finds itself splayed under your shirt. He’s savoring the feeling of warm skin, of a human heart. His cold palm finds your chest and you draw a shaky breath.
“Thought you would disappear if I did. Thought he would come down with his shotgun and put you out!” You shake, the fear starting to eat at you.. and the regrettable pleasure. He was good with his hands.
Remmick finds amusement in your empty threat. Humans were so precious. A gun wouldn’t have done anything. “Maybe it would’ve.” His hand releases you, trailing lower. It grabs at your hip. “But i’d be back the next night. And the night after….”
He pulls off of you just long enough to turn you around. “You’d keep coming closer to the screen. Closer to my words, closer to my promises.” He closes a hand around your throat. “Then I’d grab ya, as I’m doin now, and take this body for all it was worth.” His nose touches yours.
You hesitate. He isn’t breathing, even this close. If this was the end- if he was going to feed on you one way or another, you were at least going to get what you want.
You make the first move; press his lips to yours. With your arms free you grab his face, he lets you. Encourages it, actually. His teeth graze your mouth and cut your lips like a razor. The way he soothes the sting is enough to make you forget. Youve had your eyes closed so long you forget he’s a monster under all that skin.
“I wanted you,” you admit to him.
“I know you did, sugar.” He reassures, “aint a bad thing to want.”
You start feeling claws when he runs his hands over your shoulders- start feeling the tips of ragged teeth when you trace your thumb over his cheeks. You dont want to open your eyes- dont want to remember Remmick as what he really is.
“You’re gonna kill me, arent you?” You ask him. Panting. Scared. You release him.
“Course not, sweetness.” He leans in again. You tilt head away and he moves past it, nose pressed to the warmth of your neck. “You’re gonna join me. Then we can love each other proper, for the rest of your unlife.”
Its just a stupid dare. Go out to the haunted property, turn around, get back in the truck. Prove to the town this little chapel wasnt haunted.
Which it wasnt. Not with ghosts, anyway.
Scene from an unfinished remmick fic. Sfw.
The sound of your labored breaths blended with the crunch of your boots on the soil as you neared the property ahead.
Gossip went around quick in this town. Rumor had it those who go askin’ for trouble here never make it back. This building used to be a church before it burned half to the ground.
It was a stupid dare, you knew it was, coming out here with your friends in their dad’s dingy pickup. Loser had to go inside the house and come back. The wood creaks beneath your boots and the flowy fabric of your clothes sway in the warm breeze. You swear you hear a windchime when it passes through.
Truthfully no one knew what was haunted here. The most popular rumor was ghosts who never made it to their burial ground. You glance back over your shoulder at your friends. One in the truck bed, the other hanging out the window of the drivers seat. They were anticipating you to go in, freak out and come running back. It would be fun. You reach for the handle of the door.
"I need help!” in that moment, your blood had run cold. You hear the engine of the truck start up again. Twirling on your heels, your friends had chickened out. Without you.
The sharp cry was enough to shatter the stillness, sending birds scattering into the sky. Your eyes are unfocused, darting all over the place trying to find who called out. They could be anywhere. Was it a missing person? You weren’t sure.
A lesson from your Daddy once went, “Shoot first, ask questions later." With all the disappearances happening in your neighborhood, you wished more than ever that you would’ve brought a gun.
The man staggered closer. It was a man, right? Or maybe it was a deer. The shadow of it confused you. Its eyes were reflective though, shining in the moonlight.
“They... they came outta nowhere,” he choked, voice dry and ragged, like he hadn’t had water in days. “God, please— I ain't here to cause trouble, I just— I just need—“ he rasped.
“Who?” You ask into the dark, feet shuffling on the porch. As he gets closer you know for sure its a man. A scarily unsettling man, with body language a little too relaxed for his supposed condition. “What do you need? I-I dont got anythin’”
“Oh you do.” He loses the facade now that he’s close enough. About ten paces short of you, down in the yard. You almost trip on your own feet flying down the porch steps and back where you came from. “You can help me!” He calls after you, in no hurry to race. Run, rabbit, run, but there was no hiding in the open field.
Your mouth tastes like pennies, your throat is closing up. Your eyes burn from the wind choosing your direction of any. Whatever that thing was it wasn’t a damn person, that was for sure. You make it all the way back to the edge of town, the sign creaking in protest. You take a moment to catch your breath and.. two clean shoes step into your line of vision.
Remmick with an anxious reader. Sfw but unsettling. He cures your panic by making it worse because remmick is an awful monster <3
He had a whirlwind of a lover, that was for sure. You would pace the floor with wobbly knees like a baby deer learning to stand, would breathe like someone was suckin’ your blood dry. Panting… in, out, in again, out again. No amount of air was good enough.
“Can hear your heart hammerin’ sweetness.” He calls to you from his lounging spot, instrument in hand. “Gon’ knock yourself out runnin’ round like that.”
“My chest hurts.” You comment to him. “I cant sit still.”
“Sure you can.” He languidly stands. His eyes glint in the light shining from your window. Steady hands grab your shoulders and still you. “Look at me.”
“Remmick let me go,” you fret. He shows you a mouth full of teeth with his smile and it scares you straight.
“Look at me.” He repeats himself. You feel like youve stopped breathing entirely, your senses stuck anticipating Remmick like prey awaiting a predator.
“There you go, honey.” His words balm you. “Aint easy to pace when I have you.” He leans in. “If you keep doin’ it I’m gonna get all bent outta shape. You want me to snap on you?”
“No,” you answer, faster than he can keep talking.
“Thats it.” He releases you. In your shock and confusion you grow tired instead of restless. Its hard to keep panicking when it might leave you in a pool of your own blood. “Now c’mere, sit with me.”
You follow him almost robotically as he makes room for you and begins stroking your skin like someone would a house pet once you settle. You never realized just how strange it was until now. Were you relaxed or numb? The feeling blurred together as your instinct screamed to stay put.
“Now where was I before you wasted your breath worryin?” He asks, picking at his guitar. The sound grates on you, but you make due staring at the wall blankly, noticing all the chips in the paint. After a while his voice starts blending into white noise. It always bugged you how he dropped that fake southern twang once he got comfortable. You wished he would pick a voice and stick to it.
Wasnt long before you drifted off to the sound of his playing. and when you woke, sun filtered in the window and you were coated nicely in a quilt usually lying on the rocking chair. He had a weird way of showing you he loved you. Like two black widows loved each other. Like a parasite loved its host. He only cared enough to keep you in one piece.
you better enjoy it Biting you is part of my job now
also a freak
also proud
-your favorite vamp
Uh huh, biting and listening to me play is your job. And hell yeah, we’re both freaks. To whoever is reading this (not my boyfriend) I’m usually not like this I swear I think I’m on something
