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bluudsucka · 2 days ago

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august night - remmick x fem!reader (chapter III)

chapter I - chapter II - chapter III

summary: after your found vampire 'family' was attacked by hunters, you and your lover remmick were separated. both lost and thrusted into the rapidly developing yet harsh world that was the twentieth century. finding yourself alone; you had to make do. doing anything you can to survive. after being apart for two decades - your once severed connection was reignited. remmick found you walking amongst the living within the bustling city of new york, miles away from mississippi. dropping everything he went to find you; to bring you back home to him...but things changed, you changed, and the once close relationship you both shared changed. yet it didn't hurt to pay you a visit...right?

word count: 16k

warnings: smut, bloodplay, squirting, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, slow burn (?), dialog heavy, slight angst, mentions of colonialism, slight mentions of race, noncanonical setting (early 90s), hivemind, slight mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, trauma bonding

author's note: the final part of the remmick august night series, i wanna thank ya'll for the support! this is the longest fic i ever wrote, so get your snacks, drink, etc. while writing this i was listening to pyramids AND pink matter by frank ocean (i got alotta inspo from those two songs, this fic took WEEKS to write loll. it's not mandatory but i recommend listening to both songs to get the vibe of remmick x reader dynamic) much love to all and thank you for reading <3

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August 25, 1992

The city pulsed like a beating heart with each step Remmick took; as if the city itself was alive. Sirens wailed in the distance and the multiple neon colored signs buzzed with energy, the reds and blue hues from advertisements dusted over his pale skin, and the steam that floated above the multiple street grates clung to his clothes like the cold sweat on his forehead. The New York air was thick with the smell of rot, diesel, and street vendor foods - he hated it.

This place reeks...

Remmick stopped his brisk pace through the crowded sidewalk and stood on the corner, his dark eyes gazing ahead as he waited for the signal to cross the rain slick asphalt, rolling his tense shoulders as his hands rested in the pockets of his leather jacket. The once speeding cars halted to a stop and the signal to cross the street lit up brightly, brushing pass the people who walked the busy crosswalk with him, his shoulder bumping into a man who spat out profanities to Remmick - telling him that he should watch where he was going.

Remmick didn't flinch at the strangers volatile words, his mind was focus on one thing, and his surroundings were nothing but an afterthought. Stepping over the cracked curb the sounds of people chattering and their heartbeats raced through Remmick's mind. The feral hunger clawed at his mouth with a vicious sting, clearing his throat with a strained cough he continued to push through the crowd of commuters, fighting the urge to sink his fangs into their flesh and indulge in the warmth of their ichor.

Remmick was starving to the point were his mind would feel fuzzy and his teeth would ache in agonizing pain - he would bite the calloused skin of his thumb or choke out a cough to ease the hunger. He needed to eat something soon, as his already undead body would tremble with late set rigor mortis.

Be he would not feed.

The once beastly hunger that plagued him became sickening - it became sacrilegious problem for him. And the thoughts of him over indulging just because he could sent a wave of embarrassment and shame through out his entire being. He thought he was free; but in reality he was shackled down by another ball and chain.

His sinful greed.

Mississippi had swallowed Rimmick and spat him out. For twenty-four years Remmick moved from apartment to apartment, never truly staying in one place, and he watched as the world around him evolved and progressed within the shadows. He wouldn't leave his apartment, he wouldn't wonder the earth like he had done previously, before losing you. He'd slip out of his rundown living space that he rented out for a short period of time to feed. But he only ate when the hunger was too much to bare; when the ache within his mouth and the hallucinations became ravenous. He had did a complete one-eighty, not taking any pleasure in feeding, starving and locking himself away from humanity. He even stopped looking for community, stopped dogpiling promises of eternal life onto young artist who didn't know any better.

Punishment.

For not protecting you like he promised, for mistreating you when you needed him the most, and for not dying with you hand in hand like envisioned all those years prior. Remmick's once charismatic charm hollowed away as the decades pass - becoming a hermit amongst the roaches and rats from the many cheap apartments he would live in. The city screamed around him, but all he could hear was your voice repeating that phrase.

"Come find me."

You were here within this city; you still walked the earth amongst the living and that gave Remmick something to 'live' for again, he was content with spending the rest of his unnatural life within the darkness surrounded by vermin and the forgotten until the sun caught him, or until someone decided to be brave enough to pierce a stake within his unbeating heart. He could feel it in his icy bones that you were here in the big city, that your presence resided up north.

The fire inside of him that was extinguished reignited.

The headache started off as mild as Remmick stepped off of the subway when he entered the city - he took a train all the way from Mississippi to here, only stopping once for a layover in Virginia - but once his boots hit the concrete ground of the city he was determined to find you. The ringing in his head ramped up as he slightly jogged up the filthy steps of the subway, the hot summer air hitting his face but the once manageable pain quickly escalated in sharp and hot behind his eyes. It felt as if his head was stuck in a vice grip. Leaning against a brick wall that was covered in graffiti his shaky hands held onto his temples, a vain attempt to ease the pain.

Overwhelming sensation of memories crashed into his already scattered mind as his calloused hand rested at his temple. The memories - your memories filled in head and drowned out his other senses.

The rough fabric of fishnets against cold thighs, the weight of sweat soaked bills stuffed tightly into garters and bra straps, the hazy neon red lights dusting across your brown skin, and that familiar hunger aching within your throat that only he could understand. Images and blurred fragments of your experiences within New York City's night life. Remmick saw men's faces, the burn of cigarette smoke against your lips, red finger nails tracing over your tips you've earned counting the multiple bills. And your once soft southern accent grew more harsh, more direct as it shattered into metropolitan twang, your voice sounded so different in his mind yet the sound of it gave Remmick nothing but comfort.

You work at a peep show in the Bronx.

Remmick's feet moved with desperation and each step he took was muscle memory, not of his own, but of yours. He followed your path that you would take every night, his feet ached with the painful sensation you felt with each step you took with your six inch heels. Your world bled in his mind like an open wound that wouldn't heal. This life you lived wasn't of choice - but of necessity. Something that wasn't in your control.

You had to survive without him.

Remmick's eyes were met with dirty windows and red neon signs that obnoxiously advertised: Live Girls - Private Booths - XXX - Girls, Girls, Girls. The perks of living in this decade was the fact that establishments proudly displayed 'welcome' and 'come in' signs, asking to be invited in was a thing of the past. Rolling his shoulders, Remmick opened the heavy glass door, the overwhelming noise of the city muffled within the dingy sex shop.

The faint smell of perfume and sweat nipped at his nose while the low vibrations of sensual music fluttered through the thick air. With a quick turn on his heel Remmick headed towards the black staircase without hesitation, he could feel you calling towards him, and the bond that was once broken tethered him towards you. He could feel your restlessness, you could feel his sadness, and you both could feel each others desperation.

He finally found you.

"Hey - hey! You gotta pay first!"

Remmick paused at the rough voice that sliced through his mind like a sharpen knife, and his face twisted in disgust as his thumb flexed around the strap that dug into his leather coat, a beat up guitar case was strapped onto Remmick's back like a lid on a coffin. Heavy boots slowly stepped down the creaking staircase that advertised multiple dirty magazines that the shop sold.

Behind the counter sat a man with greasy face and equally greasy hair, he reeked of sweat and the neon lights bouncing off of his swollen red skin. He couldn't have been older than fifty as salt and pepper colored chest hair tangled around the gold chain that hung around his thick neck. The man's thick fingers that were covered in cheap rings drummed away at the glass countertop, and his cataract eyes peered into Remmick, tilting his head at the price sheet that was haphazardly tapped to the grimy wall.

"You gotta pay like everyone else, loverboy," The man stated. "You wanna peak at my girls? That'll be five bucks a token, two tokens if you want five minutes - more if you really want a show."

"I'm lookin' for someone." Remmick replied, his southern accent fraying at the end of his short sentence, and his dark eyes narrowed hard at the man - but he didn't blink. Remmick said your name, whispering it as if it was a holy phrase that needed to be respected, and that earned the greaseball of a man to laugh in his face.

"You one of her regulars? She's in booth two tonight, didn't peg you to be the type to like ebony - can't blame you, though. The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice," there was a short yet heavy pause that lingered over the two men, and the clerk began to speak again, this time rambling in a vain attempt to break the ice and build 'comradery' between the two.

"Can't stop looking at her heart shaped ass, either. Grabbing it must feel like squeezing one of them stress balls. She's a pretty lil' thing." The man laughed, which only earn another beat of silence from Remmick, this time though the man noticed that the vampire clenched his jaw tightly at his words. The muscle beneath Remmick's jaw twitched with vitriol and rage at the man's crass descriptions of you - of his soul mate - his one and only. And it didn't help that he was starving ever since stepping foot in this sin city, hunger twisting behind his ribs with each breath he took.

The clerk was lucky that Remmick grew some sense of self restrain over the years...

Remmick eyes just stared straight through the man, and the thick air that lingered between the short conversation they shared felt wrong, felt deadly and the man uncomfortably shifted in his seat. In another attempt to ease the tense conversation the clerk blurted out a rushed: "Ten bucks...Ten bucks for the first round."

Without a word Remmick reached into the worn pocket of his leather coat, pulling out his wallet and fisting a crumple up ten dollar bill within his calloused hand. He laid it flat onto the plexiglass counter - not in the waiting hand of the clerk. The swollen man belted out a pained snort, trying his best to control the tense situation.

"And I thought people from the south was suppose to be polite..." He muttered out, his fingers sliding over a red plastic basket of golden tokens. "You two will hit it off, she ain't that friendly either."

Remmick reached into the basket, fishing out two golden coins without meeting the eyes of the clerk, but that only made the man more wary of his presence. Swallowing hard his hazy eyes watch Remmick walk towards the steps again, not bothering to even glace back at him with each step he took.

"Enjoy the show." He called after him, the confidence in his voice was thinner now, more forced. But of course, Remmick didn't respond, his mind was more focus the reason why he was here in the first place...

You.

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Remmick ascended up the stairs, with each step he took the worn down wood creaked like old bones under his weight, and the sickly yellow florescent light of the sex shop downstairs morphed into heated crimson colored neon that spilled over the dark environment like rich blood. With twitching fingers due to hunger and restrain, he made his way towards your booth, and the closer he got the stronger that the invisible tether yanked at him with force. Entering the cramped booth, Remmick's face twisted in pain, not from hunger this time, but from recognition.

You were hurting.

Catching a shallow breath he sat on the small metal stool, and the soft clink of the coins reverberated through him. His fingers grazed over the token, tracing over the jagged edges as his own hurt clung within him - how far you both had stumbled off the path. Flipping the token he slid it inside of the coin slot, a metallic clink echoed and the black partition began to rise.

And there you were in all of your lace bound glory.

Your back was faced to him as your hips swayed slowly, your hands ran up your thighs to the soft curve of your lower back until they finally rested within the thick natural curls in your hair. With a tired exhale, you finally spoke the rehearsed line you've said countless of times to men who truly didn't deserve to hear it: "Hey, baby. You've come to see me? I've been watin' for you all day."

You turned on your heel and time stopped.

Remmick's dark eyes stared back at you through dirty plexiglass, the air buzzed faintly from the flickering lights and the ruined AC, moans that twisted with pleasure from strangers clung onto the dingy water stained wallpaper. The red light crawled over your face, sharpening your features, you still looked the same all those years ago. When you first invited him in your home, when he first held you within his arms, and when times were simple.

Within the beat of silence your face fractured and reassembled to display various emotion that only Remmick could see - that only he could understand.

Shock, anger, longing, fear, shame, joy, love, and contempt.

Remmick didn't flinch under your intense gaze, his shoulders hunched over as he rested his forearms over the denim jeans he wore, drinking in your expressions in an attempt to pinpoint exactly how you truly felt in the moment. The lump in his throat formed when he felt the sizzling hot vitriol that was directed towards him, yet the intense feeling was underlined with love. No matter how pissed you were at seeing his weatherworn face - you would always find it in your unbeating heart to cherish this man . The one who damned you to walk amongst the living within the shadows.

Alone.

"I thought so," you whispered, and the once stilted city accent transformed into your natural southern twang that was music to his ears. "You the reason I had a headache all goddamn night."

You turn your back towards Remmick again, swaying your hips slowly as the red light that loomed over you, the harsh red hues painting over the dusty pink lace lingerie set you wore. The garters pressed into the plush skin of your thighs and ass; the thin fabric holding up the sheer stockings, the hem of the stockings were lacy too, it matched your bra and panties - which left barely anything to the imagination. You rolled your shoulders as your hands raced up your body, cupping your breast as your face contorted into faux pleasure, teasing Remmick as he looked away from you.

"You want the helpless and lovesick girlfriend fantasy, huh? Then go to another booth and no refunds, by the way - so don't get mad if I don't moan your name like how I use to." You bitterly whimpered out, looking over your shoulder at the man, biting your lip when you finally finished your sentence. Those words were dripped in nothing but shallow sensuality. It sounded so foreign to him, this wasn't how you use to speak to him in the past and it shattered him to the core, it felt like a knife hit his gut and your blasé demeanor towards him made the feeling sting even more. Remmick's face twisted with anguish and remorse.

"I'm here because you called me--"

"I ain't call you...Haven't thought about your sorry ass since that night." You blurted out, cutting him off before he could even fully explain how he found you after all these years. You turned your lace covered body to face him again, your ex lover, who you thought was dead for the past decades. His appearance changed ever so slightly since the last time you've laid your eyes on him. His stubble grew a bit longer, sporting a short beard and mustache, losing the 1960s aesthetic in exchange for a more sensible getup.

He wore a brown leather jacket, the cuffs on the cheap faux leather cracked and chipped away due to friction mixed with age, and the jeans he wore were a dark blue denim. A casual white polo shirt with green decals, the buttons stopping just below his collar bone, and the golden chain peaked through the fabric.

After all this time he still had it.

A faint smile danced across your face at the sight of it, and the feeling of butterflies bloomed within your core. You still had your chain too, you never took it off, even when you've grown a distain for Remmick over the past years being separated. You wouldn't dare remove the jewelry, even when you've hit a few financial patches within your life living in the big city - damn near pawing off the clothes on your back - you always made sure to keep the necklace he gifted you.

"You're lyin'." Remmick replied knowingly, his dark irises glued onto the gold necklace that rested over your collar bone, his tone wasn't laced with cockiness nor superiority. He was just stating a fact that the two of you knew; you always thought about him the moment you two were forcibly separated from each others embrace.

Every second, minute, and hour...Remmick was always on your mind and that feeling was mutual.

"So what? You just felt me 'beg' for you within your mind, or somethin'? That you'll come and sweep me off my feet like some damsel in destress - that I'll thank you for savin' me? Please, that's too coinvent, Remmick. Too easy..." You spat out, your hips swaying with every word that slipped past your gloss covered lips, finally reaching the dingy plexiglass that barricaded you from him. The sound of your nails tapping against the glass made Remmick shiver, leaning forwards in the stool - he wanted to break that glass - he wanted to be close to you. It was agonizing not being able to feel your skin against his hands, to hear your steady breathing, and to bury his face within the coils of your hair like he'd always do.

"I never stopped lookin' for you, darlin'. I searched all over since that night, I busted my ass and raced against the sun - I kept going, even if I hadn't felt you! I knew you was out there, somewhere..." He desperately choked out, his voice cracking and fraying as his southern accent melted into his natural Irish twang, he urgently rushed out his words. He wanted you to know that his life for the past twenty odd years was spent searching for you; he needed you to know that. With a heaving chest he spoke again, this time in an attempt at appeal to your senses - to tug at your heartstrings that only he knew.

"You're hurtin' somethin' awful, pretty girl--"

"Stop! You don't got the right to do that, not anymore!" You shrieked out, the sound of your raised voice made Remmick jump back a bit, his brown eyes widening as he adverted his gaze. His calloused hand rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to self sooth, tightening his jaw when he felt your once neutral gaze turn ice cold. The subtle feeling of yearning quickly turned sour within you - half of you thought he changed - that maybe what he was saying was the truth. But the fact he used your nickname that he gave you; the same one he would throw around when things didn't go his way made the malice you felt towards him bubble to the surface once again.

"Do what?" Remmick meekly replied as his heavy eyes flicked between your scantily clad frame and his boots. His shoulders hanging low and resembled that of a child being scolded.

"Pretend to understand me." You whispered and your hands laid flat against the plexiglass. Remmick gazed at your palms, his eyes resting on the left one, the one with that jagged and raised scar.

The scar that started this all.

"I ain't pretending..."

But before he could explain himself further the thick partition raced down the plexiglass, shielding you from his gaze, his eyes was met with darkness. A strained gasp fell from Remmick's lips he hadn't even realized that he was holding his breath and with shaky hands he fisted the token out of his pocket. With rushed movements, as if each second that past would be detrimental, he thumbed the token into the coin slot and the clinking of metal flooded his ears.

He let out a sigh of relief to see you still standing there, leaning on your back against the glass with your arms cross, and staring over your shoulder as a thick pause lingered over the two of you like a weighted blanket.

"You still rottin' away in Mississippi?" You asked.

"Yea'." Remmick replied.

"Lemme guess: you still gorgin' yourself on blood until you're sick, throwin' up in the mud too? All pathetic like?" You bitterly sighed but your gaze still lingered onto Remmick, soaking up his every movement through long mascara covered lashes.

"No, I-I haven't 'ate' in a week..." He confessed as his leg bounced up and down franticly. Your eyes widen at this, you're shocked that the man could even sit in one place without groaning in pain or worse.

Going feral.

But you noticed how sickly he looked, how much he hunched over with his hands ghosting over his torso, and you watched intensely as he bit his thumb. His sharp canines jabbing into his cold skin in a vain effort to control his hunger, trying his best to fight the beast within that plagued every vampire who stalks the night.

"You always take shit too far - with everything you do! It's either all or nothin', I can't stand it," you stated with a roll of your eyes, but you didn't break away your gaze from him, and with a heavy sigh you continued speaking again. "You think starvin' yourself, going through all that pain makes you a different man, that it makes you better? It doesn't you ain't changed at all."

"You're right, I ain't changed, but I'm doing this as penance...For failing you, baby. For breaking the one promise I told you before all of this shit, it's a damn shame," Remmick looked away from you again, unable to meet your gaze as the guilt brutally ate away at him. His body began to tremble, and you weren't sure if it was because of his guilt or if his hunger was finally overcoming him. "What kinda man am I?" He croaked out, and that pitiful sound made your harden expression soften.

"Look at me," you whispered, turning on your heel you faced him again, your hand pressing onto the glass. Remmick's vacant eyes stared back into your irises, and he reached for the glass. Standing up from the stool the metal seat was knocked over by his desperate movements, the sharp sound of it hitting against concrete cut through the tense air like a sharpen blade. He pressed his hand over yours, he wanted to touch you. Dammit, he needed to touch you. But the thick and grimy glass withheld you from him.

"My shift ends in two hours. So, until then take care of your problem. There's a park three blocks south of here, I go there when I ain't got nothin' to eat, this city is big no one watches over there...Just be smart about it." You stated and your eyebrows knitted together. Your mind raced with worry as you watched Remmick nod his head slowly, processing the information that you gave him. You knew that he wouldn't be in his right mind for much longer and even though half of you still held animosity towards him - at the end of the day you loved him.

He was your man, you were his woman, and at some point your heart belonged to him.

Even though he never deserved it...

"Come find me." You urged and hearing that request fall from your plump lips made Remmick breath catch within his throat. Just hours ago this request echoed inside of his mind: the precise cadence, the drawn out pause between 'find' and 'me', the phrase spilled from your lips just the same like it was within his head. Remmick's face twisted in the sudden weight of recognition as his eyebrows knitted tightly together, creating a crease that formed across his forehead, deep and sharp.

"Y-You said that, baby. You said that in my head, exactly like that hours ago..." He murmured, his voice barely above a hush, but your expression didn't shift. You leaned in closer, your breath fogging onto the glass, and your lips hovered just above it close enough to kiss the surface. The golden necklace that adorn your throat caught the red neon light, glowing under the harsh hues and panting your brown skin as if you were shining like the sun itself.

"W-Where?" Remmick asked, his voice cracking with need, but you only stared, soaking up his worn down and exhausted appearance. And then, without warning, the black partition fell. The dull mechanical thud slicing between the moment you both shared, your beautiful frame vanishing behind darkness as his own reflection stared back at him within the dirty glass.

Pale, sickly, and desperate.

"Wait - no, no! Fuck!" Remmick franticly shouted as his shaky hands fumbled within the pockets of his coat, when he couldn't feel anything but his wallet, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. His fingers scraped along the seams within the pockets of his pants, emptying out every forgotten receipt, loose change, and folded scrap paper.

But there was nothing; he ran out of tokens...

Staring at the barrier with pleading eyes and heavy breathing he'd hope that something within the universe would make the partition rise again, to bring you back in his gaze, but that of course didn't happen. Eventually he broke his needy stare away from the glass, taking a stumbled step away from the stained plexiglass, then another, and then another.

Reaching up Remmick adjusted the worn strap of his guitar case on his shoulder with a trembling hand, and with a long reluctant breath he turned and left the booth. The echo of your voice hammering within is fried thoughts as he followed your direction towards the park you spoke about; he needed to eat before he lose his already scattered mind.

"Come find me."

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The diner was dimly lit and the lights flickered, it was as if the fluorescent bulbs that loomed over the restaurant were too tired to shine fully, resembling the half asleep patrons who hunched over dirty tables. It was around four in the morning, but the outside world was still loud - still alive. The humming of distant sirens and the occasional honking of horns slipped through the dew slicked windows. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of burnt coffee and equally burnt eggs. The yellow and beige tiles were sticky in some places, still clinging onto congealed grease that spilled onto the floor hours prior.

The diner booths that you and Remmick shared was old, extremely so - but you both were older than this entire diner combined. The red vinyl seats cracked and peeled at the seams, yellow stuffing puffing out the cracks like a bleeding flesh wound, and the table between you two was stained with years of use. The wood coated with a sheen of coffee stains, stale grease, and old syrup. No matter how much they'd clean the wood it'll always have a sheen of grime.

Remmick sat across from you in silence, his guitar leaning against the red vinyl seat, and he rolled his shoulders. His brown eyes staring intensely at you soaking up your presence as if you were a work of art; you were in his eyes. His sharp jawline was half shrouded by the collar of his leather jacket that he zipped up all the way, beneath the coat was his bloodstained shirt that clung onto his body, he was always a messy eater.

You regarded him with calm faux detachment, and with raise of your eyebrow you finally broke the silence that loomed over the both of you.

"You'll catch flies starin' like that." You said, tilting your head towards his slack jaw, but Remmick didn't bother to change his facial expression, afraid that if he looked away for just a second you'd disappear from him once again. The intense look within Remmick's gaze was a mixture of longing and worship that twisted into sharp reverence like a knife that stabbed into his heart.

You shifted in your seat slightly, the red vinyl groaning beneath you, and your golden necklace caught the hues from the flickering neon sign that displayed 'Open 24/7', the jewelry creating a halo effect around you, making you look ethereal - other worldly and Remmick couldn't help but to lean in closer.

Your body was swallowed by a thick, oversized flannel style coat, the hem of the jacket brushed against your bare knees as you sat within the booth. The coat was heavy, its texture was wool like and rugged, and a patchwork of deep brown tones broken up with thin swaths of moss green and faded yellow streaks. It had the look of being once owned by someone who meant something to you, someone who was close - warm, shapeless - yet comforting.

Beneath the coat, a short black dress clung onto your body like second skin, and the fabric was thin and slightly see through. Remmick could see the soft pinks of your lingerie peaking through the dress, the thin fabric outlining your feminine shape, but the thick jacket concealed most of your frame from his lingering gaze.

And yet you still wore those heels.

The six inch clear Pleasers catching the dim light within the diner, they looked out of place against the greasy tiled floor, and with a roll of your ankle the soft sound of your heels clicking against the dirty floor grounded Remmick ever so slightly.

Without a word escaping your glossed covered lips, you leaned forward, your bangles clanking against each other filled the thick space that danced between the two of you. You reached your hand out for his face, your thumb gently grazing the corner of his mouth, a faint smear of blood still lingered onto his face. Slowly, you swiped your thumb across the blood, cleaning his face but your fingers wandered - tracing the edge of his jaw - grazing the short beard that adorned his handsome features.

Remmick caught your wrist within in calloused hand, not with force, but with unbearable desperation. He leaned into your touch, pressing his cheek against your knuckles, inhaling the scent that clung onto your skin. Familiar, comforting, home. Slowly, but with purpose, he guided your wrist towards his mouth and held it there. With closed eyes Remmick's lips brushed against your skin, yet he didn't kiss, all he wanted to do was to savor your touch. Even if just for a little, he was afraid that you'd pull away from him, sliding out of the booth and telling him to leave you alone - forever.

But you didn't.

A jolt racked through your body, the sensation of something tender, raw, and unwanted.

Unconditional love.

For years you imagined this; the feeling of his skin against yours, the weight of his body and devotion towards you, and those honey dipped words that would make your head spin each and every time he spoke to you. The old rhythm of your bond reawaken again after the decades of slumber. It was happening - finally. But this was far too easy...

You let your touch linger for a moment, then slowly you pulled your hand away, but Remmick caught your fingers within his. And your hands interlocked with each other, settling on the grimy tabletop, holding hands as if no time had passed between you both as if it was 1932 again.

You stared at your hand holding his with bitter happiness, you were angry with how natural this felt, and how easily you melted under his touch. Remmick hadn't earned your touch nor your grace, and he knew this, but you weren't willing to pull away from him.

You didn't want to pull away not ever again.

"Why here?" Remmick asked, his voice was low yet it cut through the intense silence that was shared between the two of you. His thumb brushing over your knuckles, outlining the bones underneath his fingers, he wanted to make sure that this was real and not some hunger induced hallucination he'd commonly suffer from the moment you left his side.

You didn't look at Remmick; your hazy eyes peered out the window where you watched a garbage truck push past the multiple taxis, and with a sigh your irises flicked towards Remmick.

"They're open twenty-four hours, I come here all the time after finishing my shift...I like people watchin', is all." You stated trying to dodge the question he asked, but Remmick only shook his head, he knew you too well. You were trying to not go into the chaos that truly brought you to this city, yet he needed to know this. It was only fair of course. With your eyes lingering on his features you spoke again, this time explaining your truth.

"It wasn't my idea. After our...'Family' got hit by them hunters and you left me for dead, I had to run," you whispered as your body stiffened under his touch, but you didn't pull away. "I just ran. Didn't know where I was goin' but all I could think about was you, though. Each step I took, every corner I turned, I thought you'd be there...Waitin' for me."

A long beat of silence settled over the booth, it was thick and unmoving, like the smog that loomed over the bustling city. You were the first one to break eye contact, blinking as your gaze wondered back onto the street, and your mind raced with distraught yet tender thoughts.

"I ended up stumblin' into a small town just past the state line, bangin' on doors bleedin' out and burnin' from the sun. 'Course nobody answered, it wasn't until this man opened his door," you said in a hushed tone, your voice was so quiet that it was muffled slightly by the florescent buzzing of the lights and the clatter from the diner's kitchen. Remmick felt your grasp on his hand tighten, which earn you a soft squeeze back, urging you to continue your story. "He just stood there in his boxers, mouth wide open and starin' at me like I was a bat outta hell, I thought he was gonna slam that door on my face or worse shoot me down on his porch..."

"But he didn't." Remmick finished.

"He invited me in, bandaged me up, fed me some real food - but we both know that didn't do much - yet he ain't say 'nothin. Even when my wounds closed up and healed quicker than the 'average'." You sighed out and the corners of your mouth slightly twitched upwards as the memories of him flooded your senses; he was such a kind man, a loving one who had no agendas you're convinced that he was an angel in disguise.

"He was a painter; a damn good one, too. His hands were always covered in ash and yellow hues." You gushed as your small grin turned into a wide smile that was filled with nothing but adoration, but seeing how your once chilled demeanor quickly warmed up once you talked about your 'savior' made Remmick's unbeating heart twist with jealously and guilt, but he let you continue.

"He was too big for that small ass town, he was already plannin' on booking it to New York before I came along. Always goin' on and on about this damn city; said it was the place to be...I had no where to go, so I stayed with him, by his side. And he never questioned it, he just offered space. At night I'd sneak out to actually eat somethin' and every night he'd wait for me, invitin' me in, covered in paint with this tender expression on his face." You laughed and your hands picked at your natural hair, the coils snapping in place - biting your lip in an attempt to stifle your chuckles that were filled with nothing but...

Love.

"You love him?" Remmick asked. It came out soft, not a challenge nor a judgmental accusation, he just wanted to know. His thumb stilled over your knuckles, and with a tightened jaw Remmick's throat began to ache it felt like he just swallowed a pint of stale coagulated blood. You flinched at his question and your lips parted only to close shut as you avoided Remmick's gaze once again, your eyes staring at your hand that held onto his.

Remmick already knew the answer, he had known as soon as you spoke with so much fondness and respect, regaling the memories about the stranger with warmth not just about how he saved you from the sun - but him entirely. It was the same way you spoke about Remmick before that fateful night...

The numb pain within his chest grew sharp and hot with jealousy. And the green sickening emotion quickly transformed into that of grief, the kind that stung hot like the sunrays, you were being loved right, for the first time in all those years, and your love was given to someone who deserved it.

Someone who wasn't Remmick...

He failed you. Not once, not twice, but three times now. He let you slip away from him after damning you to hell with him, only for you to be saved by someone else; some damn stranger! And it angered him something awful. But his anger wasn't directed towards you, that would never happen, and surprisingly it wasn't even directed at the mysterious painter.

He was angry at himself.

"Yes. But not like how I love you, I-I was so alone, Remmick. I was broken and lost - I never felt that much...Pain before in my life," you stammered out, trying your best to explain away the visible discomfort that Remmick displayed. He looked at you and his hand was still in yours, it shocked you that he didn't pull away from your touch. The old him would've cursed you out, spitting on your name and telling you to leave him be until he was in the mood to get fucked or if he was hungry.

He'd even command you to kill your lover in front of him.

Yet he just sat there, listening to your words, understanding your pain without passing judgment, even though the information you gave pained him greatly.

"I know." Was all Remmick uttered, leaning back into the chipped vinyl, but this action made you lean forwards now. The oversized jacket, which he could now assumed belonged to your mortal lover, slipped off of your shoulder, exposing the thin black strap of your dress.

"I was hurtin', Remmi...Even when my ex-husband did me bad, I ain't felt pain like this until you left me. I-It felt like my heart was ripped outta my chest, I couldn't breathe without cryin' out for you. I never had to live my life by myself in a long time. I always relied on you - on your guidance, on your every word," you confessed, and then a short pause lingered over the two of you until you finish you're statement with: "...He made me remember who I was and I'll always, always be grateful for him enterin' my life when he did."

Remmick nodded slowly at your words, the truth of how you felt seeped into his heart like alcohol within a open wound. There was nothing cruel with what you said, and he reassured you that you didn't betray him, you just did what you needed to do to survive.

"When we both moved here, he was so excited, that look on his face...It didn't take long for things to get sour, though. He realized who I was - what I am. One night he saw my eyes, my fangs, and I couldn't hide myself no more." You whispered and your eyes stared past Remmick's shoulder, peering into the distance as if reliving that night shared with your lover.

"What you do?" Remmick asked with a pained sigh.

"He asked me if I killed anyone before, I answered honestly, and then he asked me if I ever turned someone." Your tone was vacant, hollow, and empty. With words you spoke was nipping at your heart and you continued with a bitter laugh, an attempt to ground yourself. "I left him before he could even ask me about it again, he was a kind man, and he doesn't deserve to become a...Haint just because a heartbroken woman scorned by her lover showered him in hollow affection, pretendin' that his touch was yours every single night. He deserved better."

"I saw myself in him, that same blind devotion I had towards you, the kind of devotion that makes a person offer up their life without knowing what they're truly givin' away..." You mumbled and for the first time the two of you sat there, stewing in the silence across from each other. Not as lovers, or haints, or even vampires. But as people who both broken someone down so selfishly in the name of love.

"So, enlighten me. Where you go - after the attack?" It was your turn to ask about Remmick's whereabouts. Beneath the stillness within Remmick's tense disposition he slightly shifted within his seat, this thumb slightly drummed against the back of your hand as he began his story.

"I went to feed..." Remmick replied, rubbing the side of his neck with one hand, it was pathetic - almost childlike, as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing in the first place.

"Right after you promise me you'd stop, figures." You shook your head, but you didn't pull away from him, in fact you tightened your hold on his hand.

"I know, I know..."

Remmick explained to you that he was starving after your quarrel with him, that he promised himself that would be the last night of him gorging himself off of blood only eating when needed, but that promise was fulfilled quicker than anticipated. He was cornered by vampire slayers, two of them. One pointed a shotgun right at his temple and the other pressed a wooden stake where his heart would be, standing behind Remmick, they asked him if he'd remembered their faces - what he did to all those people he senselessly killed.

"I had no clue who they were talkin' about...That pissed them off somethin' fierce," Remmick whispered. Clearing his throat he explained that how he got away; he killed them. But alas he was beaten and bruised, weakened by the garlic and iron that they used against him, the pain was unbearable.

"I felt everythin', darlin...You and the others, ya'lls screams, the fires, and gunshots wounds. I was useless, every time I would try to move the pain from the family rip straight through me. I was dyin from you all - ya'll pain was killin' me. So..." Remmick trailed off, pushing his free hand into the pocket of his thick jacket, and your gaze grew intestinally.

"So?" You urged on.

"I closed my mind to it, I locked ya'll out to save myself." He rushed out, biting his lip as he tried to ground himself, the sight of his sharp canines jabbing into the soft skin of his bottom lip steeled you ever so slightly. "That's when I couldn't feel you anymore, but I made sure to send you one last command before cuttin' the thread; I told you to run."

"I hoped you would make it a-and you did! I couldn't go back, the sun was risin' and I dragged myself in a cave nearby, hidin' in the dark like a coward. I convinced myself that those hunters would be watin' on me. it was too dangerous and I made it up mind to just...Cut my loses." Remmick hissed as his face twisted in pain and self loathing, his already anxious demeanor doubled as he looked down at the table, avoiding your eyes in a motion that simulating bowing.

"I'm sorry, dammit. I'm so sorry, baby." Remmick choked out, his voice fraying with every syllable. His hand that was once within the pocket of his coat rubbed at the back of his neck rougher this time. You slightly flinched at how violent this once self soothing method quickly turned into, you're sure his hand would leave behind a bruise that'll quickly heal, but the fact that he resulted to this as a form of punishment made you wince in worry.

You swallowed. "I forgive you," and your fingers trailed out of his, only to trace the veins on the back of his hand. "But don't mistake my forgiveness with forgettin'..."

Remmick sucked in a slow and shallow breath, his jaw tightening at your words and the feeling of your fingers tracing small shapes across his cold skin.

"You think comin' up here unannounced and tellin' me you're sorry is gonna fix it? That I'll just revert back into that girl who worshiped the ground you walked on?" You asked, but you knew that Remmick understood healing this relationship you shared wouldn't be as easy as before. "I thought lovin' you meant serving you, I thought I owed you my devotion; but you made me think that..."

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the table while your hands cupped your chin, ultimately removing your touch from Remmick. The sound of your golden bracelets revibrated through the quieting diner, it was about that time where people were done with their meals, leaving for work or heading home. Remmick's eyes were fixated on your every move while his breathing became slightly ragged from your absent touch. With a sharp chuckle you spoke again.

"Don't get it twisted - I am thankful that you turned me. You freed me from my shit husband, without you I would've probably died bitter and alone; raising grandkids that ain't even mine. You taught me that I didn't have to be afraid of dyin', or livin', you made me see myself," your voice stern yet it didn't drip with any animosity, your anger that you held onto for so long finally chipped away, never would you have thought this meeting would go down like this you and Remmick both changed for better or for worse. "I found my power within this body I found the courage to keep goin' even though I know our kind is damned, stuck here...But I finally found myself."

"I ain't that depressed preacher's wife you shacked up with all those years ago, darlin'. I ain't a shadow and I damn sure don't take orders, I'm not kneelin' to another man ever again. The sun gonna have to strike me down for that to happen." you then leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest as your eyes scanned Remmick's face, trying to find what was racing through his head. Even though you shared thoughts between each other, he was still your sire, which meant he had the choice to lock you out of his thoughts - preventing you from diving deeper within his mind.

"I'm free now, even if that means showin' my ass to perverts in a rat infested dump. For the first time in my life I can finally do whatever I want and I intend to keep it that way." You finished with a shrug of your shoulders.

"I don't wanna rule over you - not anymore. I'm not the same man from all those years ago, either. I-I just want to know you again, to see you and make sure you're...Safe." Remmick finally spoke, resting his arm over the vinyl seat, his eyes softening at your words. He finally realized your true emotions, your true thoughts, and feelings. Even though in the past he'd scour your mind endlessly for hours, reliving your faded memories as if they were his own, but his old self never put much stock in them. It was a form of control, understanding every inch of you in an attempt for you to solely rely on him, and it worked - until it didn't.

But now Remmick finally took off those rose colored glasses, putting his ego in check, and he saw the real you.

The good, the bad, the ugly, and the complicated.

You...

And the 'you' that he was finally able to see, past the fog of unfair expectation he gave you, was beautiful.

He didn't want to ruin you; stripping your personality down to bare bones and devouring your essence for himself, not again.

"I'll leave...I won't bother you no more, I..." But he trailed off. The whole of his being fought to stay with you, his cold and coagulated blood screamed to stay by your side, to never let you go. But he loved you more than this 'instinct' of connection that a sire has on their fledgling, he needed you to be happy, and if that was without him than so be it. Sliding out of the booth he reached for the guitar case that rested on the cracked vinyl, slinging the instrument over his shoulder.

You watched with an open mouth, your face fixed in a shocked expression, and without a second thought you spoke: "I figure you don't got anywhere to stay for the mornin'?"

"Yea', I didn't exactly plan on coming here so suddenly in the first place. But I'll figure it out, pretty girl...Always do."

"...Why figure it out when you can just stay with me?" You breathlessly asked. You were pissed at Remmick, hated the man, but you were in love with him too. Always thinking about him. And the fear of him leaving you again raced through your body intensely. You didn't want him to go, to leave, to abandon you.

"Stay with me, Remmi...Until the sun goes down at least."

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The sharp sound of gravel crunched with each step in your six inch heels, you walked side by side with Remmick, your shoulder brushing against his arm as you both ascended up the concrete stairs. In the distance muffled sounds of dogs barking, hums from cheap box televisions seeped through the thin motel walls, and drunken shouting coming from a couple who were downstairs by the mold rimmed pool. A piercing shatter of a glass bottle hitting the concrete followed by an earsplitting 'fuck you!' that made Remmick flick his eyes towards the couple downstairs.

"Don't worry they do this every weekend." You reassured.

Your room was the third one within the many rows of chipped doors, the golden '56' that hung on the door shined brightly under the orange ember of the street lights. An airy laugh escaped your lungs as you kneeled down, grabbing onto a plastic box shaped grocery bag. You handed the bag quicky to Remmick and began fishing your keys out of your heavy purse.

Looking down at the mysterious item within his hands he asked with a tilt of his head: "What is this?"

"It's food, my neighbor Ms. Edith always leaves me leftovers. Spaghetti, meatloaf, anything made in a crockpot, really." You said as the golden bangles on your wrist clicked against each other, pulling out your keys and sliding it into the lock, the sound of your door unlocking sent a small smile to your face.

Remmick looked confused as his eyes flicked between you and the leftovers in his hands. Surely you weren't eating 'mortal' food? With furrowed eyebrows Remmick began to speak, but you beat him to it.

"I don't eat it, obviously! I give it to some of the girls I work with, most of 'em live off of fast food and liquor, so they love a home cooked meal." You replied pushing the heavy door open. The rich syrupy smell of incense wafted through the air and hit Remmick's nose, the scent was practically pulling him in, but alas as ancient rules go he couldn't just waltz in without some sort of invite.

Stepping inside you tossed your purse carelessly into the seat of a chair. "Come in." You said in a knowing tone, which made Remmick's body cross the threshold. The room that you called home was dim, the only light source was the soft flickering of the tv, it was playing one of those nature documentaries but this one was about the different species of bats in the wild.

Ironic.

The faint smell of iron lingered within the strong incense while his eyes scanned over the environment surrounding him. A low double bed sat within the corner of the room, but instead of the usual motel bedsheets the mattress was draped with multiple thick comforters, all of which were different colors and patterns. The curtains were pitch black and drawn over the windows, he was confident that the sun wouldn't leak into the room, and the low humming of a box fan that sat on top of a grey minifridge within the corner caught his attention.

Kicking off your heels with a content sigh, your bare feet finally laid flat against the brown carpet, stretching your back you lulled your head towards the minifridge.

"Put that in the fridge, please. Wanna keep it fresh for my girls." You stated. Remmick obeyed your request without a word, moving to the fridge and placing the food within, turning on his heel he watched you slip off the heavy jacket you wore - tossing it onto a pile of other clothes next to your bed. His eyes raced across your body, drinking in your shape as the tight dress hugged your figure nicely, and the realization struck him like a silver bullet.

This is the first time in decades that the two of you were together, in the same room, alone. This wasn't a memory he'd relieve every morning nor was it a dream.

This was reality; the present.

Noticing him staring, you decided to break the ice.

"Work was awful tonight, some guy tried to jam a dollar bill in the coin slot like a damn vending machine. Another one kept moaning like a dog in heat - quite literally the worse sound I ever heard in my life, ugh." You joked, which earn you huff through the nose from Remmick, a small smile tugging onto his plump lips. "How was your day? Aside from starvin' yourself, the the skull splittin' headache, and reuniting with your ex-girlfriend?"

"Uneventful, I've became a shut in, mostly stayin' in my apartment." Remmick replied as he slipped off the guitar off of his back, leaning the instrument on the dingy water stained wall. "And ex? We didn't officially 'call it quits'."

"Ah, looks like we've traded personalities then!" You laughed. The sound of your laughter sent shockwaves of happiness through Remmick, if his heart could still beat it'll be racing by now, he could hear you laugh for the rest of his life. "Besides, I ain't seen you in twenty-four years, and during those years I thought you were dead so..."

"Mhm, well I'm here now, pretty girl. And I took the train here, so that was enough eventfulness for me." He shot back and the small grin turned into a wide toothy smile, showing off his sharp fangs.

It's been too long since he genuinely smiled he almost forgot how to.

"The train?" You asked, slipping off the jewelry that you wore, only keeping that golden necklace on. "Oh, we old, old! You know the mortals fly commercially now, they got these big ass plans with the fancy dvd players for each passenger - and they give 'em mini bottles of liquor when asked."

"Seems fancy, too fancy for me, though. I prefer the quiet, no one bothers you on a train."

"Please, nobody rides 'em except for dusty vampires and serial killers often you get a two in one deal," you jested, referring to Remmick's not so grand days that happened in the 60s. He slightly stiffened at your joke but you quickly reassured him. "Sorry easy joke, baby. But I agree, the train is my comfort place too...God - we sitting here talkin' about trains. We're so elderly."

"I'd argue that we're timeless."

"Which is just a pretty word that delusional vampires use instead of the real deal: ancient!"

A pause lingered over the conversation as you both stared into each other's eyes, you were the first one to break the staring contest as you gazed at the tv behind Remmick, your bare feet kicking at the soft carpet until you spoke again.

"I see you luggin' that thing around, still got that 'ol banjo?"

"No, lost it many years ago. Swapped her for a guitar, got plenty of other instruments back home, though. But recently the quality of 'em keeps droppin', can't find a good replacement of her." Remmick stated, which made you smile sympathetically. Remmick loved that banjo, often referring to that southern instrument as 'she' or 'her', so you know it pained him to lose it.

"I'll get you one," you said with a tender smile. "I know nothin' will replace her, but I got connections I'll make sure you get one of quality."

"Thank you, lass." Remmick uttered, slightly taken aback by your offer, you were too sweet for your own good - especially to a rotten man like him. He was forever in your debt and each day that passed, even when being apart for so long, he was always reminded of your kindness.

Of your grace.

You nodded your head in silent agreement and with fluid movements your nimble hands reached for the hem of your dress, pulling up the thin fabric up your body and over your shoulders. Your bronzed body was now clad in only your lingerie you wore working, except for the garters and stockings that laid flush against your thighs, you toss those in your purse after clocking out. Remmick's eyes widen as his mouth hung slack, he seen you naked more times than he could count, but it's been so long.

Too long.

It felt like the very first night that you two crossed paths all those years ago. He wanted to look away, to give you privacy, but you were too damn beautiful. You chuckled at his response, he looked like a smitten school boy seeing his crush undress for the very first time, it was adorable to you. And it also reignited the lust that burned only for him within your loins.

"I always shower before bed, the city is too grimy, you'd be a brave fool to crawl into bed without washin' up first." You whispered as your feet waltz towards him, closing the space between the two of you.

"You should shower too, y'know. With me...I can still smell the blood on you."

"I haven't...bathed with anyone in decades." Remmick mumbled as his breath hitched within his throat, yet he desperately wanted you to touch him, your fingers grasp around the metal zipper of his jacket slowly pulling the zipper down until the coat was open. Your eyes were met with a bloodstained shirt, the white cotton clung onto the crimson ichor as your hands raced underneath the stained fabric, feeling his toned muscles underneath your touch. You sighed as your hands traced over the dips and valleys of his abs, his muscles flexed under your feather light touch, you missed kissing him there.

"We're gonna have to get you a bib, or somethin'." You laughed but Remmick only shuddered under your hands rubbing against him. Ever since that night he lost interest in anything intimate, you were the only woman that touched him like this since then, so needless to say he was a little rusty when it came to sexual advances and flirting.

He watched as your hands left him, causing his face to twist with need, but your hands grabbed onto his thick jacket, sliding it off of his broad shoulders with his help. The soft thud of his coat hitting the carpet made you bite your lip, your fangs slightly jabbing into your plump gloss covered bottom lip. Your eyes raked over his strong biceps, landing on the vein that pressed against his pale skin, you wanted to trail your lips over it, maybe even take a bite.

But you pulled yourself back, taking it slow, and your hands rested at the hem of his shirt. You gazed into Remmick's eyes, asking for consent with intense exchanges of looks between each other, and without uttering a single word he nodded his head urging you to continue your movements. You pulled his stained shirt up over his head, his already messy brown hair falling back into its disheveled place, you tossed the shirt onto the floor. A gasp fell from your lips, you didn't even release you were holding your breath, but the sight of his half nude bloody form made you giddy.

It was as if he was sculpted by master artists; as if he was made out of ivory and stone. Your pointer finger raced up his blood soaked chest making him shiver like a leaf in the wind from this action, you stopped your finger, resting it on the necklace that hung around his collar bones. The silence between you two was heavy, but the muffle of the narrator's soothing voice slightly put Remmick at ease.

The narrator was explaining the average wing span of a fruit bat.

"You're long overdue, Remmi...But so am I." You whispered as the rest of your hand rested at the base of his neck. "You can touch me like how you use too, it's okay, baby." You reassured, noticing that his arms remained at his sides, giving you the impression of fearing to touch you. He nodded his head as his calloused hands hovered over your hips, and with a passing beat he placed them softy onto your skin. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lungs, it was as if touching you was all he truly needed.

You both knew that it was.

Pulling yourself closer towards him, your chest laid flush against his, and the old ichor that clung onto his skin seeped through your bra, paining the pink lace turning it into a stained rouge color. Dark eyes filled with need, desire, and forlorn clashed with each other. The both of you teetering over the line to see who would make their move first, your mouth hovered over his, and his hands that were once rested on your hips trailed up your body - his once knowing hands now quivered with anxious yearning.

You placed a tender kiss on Remmick's trembling lips, closing the sliver between the two of you, guiding him with the soft yet passionate kiss. Your lips danced against his making the vampire moan into your mouth, his strong hand holding the back of your head to deepen the kiss, the feeling of his calloused scratched your scalp and the sensation made your mind spiral. His tongue licked into your mouth in desperation while your hands reached for the clasp of your bra. Remmick's large hand that was once nestled deep within your coils and curls rested over yours, helping you undo the bra, not breaking the kiss as the thin fabric was tossed to the side.

It was his turn to undress himself as he reached for the buckle of his belt, you pulled away from the kiss - which earned a whimper from him - but your plump lips latched onto the sensitive skin on his neck. He groaned out your name at the feeling of your sharp canines dragged against the crook of his neck, teasing the artery that once sustained his body; all that the vein did now was pump cold, thick, dark, and coagulated blood.

It tasted truly divine to you.

Remmick's blood had a rich, oaky, and natural taste. It reminded you of a homecooked meal that took hours to prepare; made with love, patience, and care. And the full bodied taste of his ichor would always cool your nerves, not to mention it would taste even better when he would hold you in his arms, whimpering for you to have your fill. Your tongue licked up his neck, stopping at the bottom of his ear, and you began sucking on the spot that only you knew that drove him crazy. Remmick fought against the belt buckle until he sighed out in victory, finally unbuckling himself as his hands now tugged at the waistband of his jeans.

Remmick's sighs morphed into whimpers as your teeth slightly sank into his skin, the sharp sting of pain mixed with pleasure made him roll his eyes back, he could feel you drooling on his skin. He pushed himself closer to you, encouraging to drink deeper from him, chanting praises about how good your teeth felt against his neck. The soft thud of his jeans hitting the carpet made you smile, and with one last lick you pulled your mouth away from his attacked neck, the punctured wound already healing itself.

"You look so fuckin' beautiful," Remmick whispered as he cupped your face. Your eyes were lids were heavy from tasting his blood; it's been too long and the bold taste made you dazed for a few seconds, the headrush earned a lopsided smile from you as your mouth and chin was drenched with his blood. "You can use me all night. I-I want you to get drunk off me, pretty girl."

With a nod in agreement you planted a sloppy peck onto his lips, your thumb hooked underneath the thin waistband of your panties, pulling the off of your hips and down your bare legs. Your eyes, once full of faux life and humanity quickly transformed into pale vampiric irises, your pale eyes clashing against your brown skin. It made you look as if you were otherworldly, and Remmick couldn't stop gawking at you, you were a work of art that needed to be cherished.

Needed to be worshiped and sang about.

You stared at Remmick's nude form, he was naked just like you, and a airy chuckle escaped your bloodied lips.

"You took your boxers off with your jeans? Looks like someone's eager..." You mumbled as your fingers trailed down his body, halting your movements just above his already hard cock. Remmick groaned at this and he attempt to pull you closer towards him, but you playfully pushed him away from you with a soft shove against his chest. "You musta forgot: we needa shower first."

Your skilled hands reached for his and with interlocked fingers you guided Remmick towards the small bathroom, the sharp creek of the wooden door opening pierced his ears. With a flick of a light switch the room lit up with a florescent ember glow, painting the tiles in a cider shade. With your hands now resting on Remmick's biceps, you placed him besides the glass shower, and with a turn of your heel you pulled the water stained glass door open. Leaning forward your nimble fingers turned the shower knob and the sound of rushing water flowed out of the head of the shower.

The water was hot as thick steam rolled off of the tile walls, floating within the air, and clinging onto the cream yet chipped wallpaper. With open arms you pulled Remmick back into your embrace, and your lips crashed into his. His tongue desperately licked into your mouth, tasting his blood that danced across your mouth, the kiss grew more hungry as your foot stepped back into the shower.

Remmick followed.

Pulling the sticky glass door shut behind him. The hot water danced across his skin, easing the tense muscles within his shoulders, the water crept down his body - tracing over the hard dips and valleys of his arms, chest, and abdomen. He pushed your body flush against the ice cold tile, your back arching against the surface as a laugh fell from your lips, chuckling into his open mouth. The shower water washed away the blood from both of your bodies, the once clear water turning pink as it swirled down the rusty shower drain.

Remmick's large hand raced up your slick wet curves, stopping at the plush of your breast, cupping the soft mound as his fingers slowly pinched at your sensitive bud. He rolled your nipple within his rough digits, the sharp pain of pleasure sent shockwaves down your body and towards your aching pussy, a breathy moan fell from your plump lips. You threw your head back as the water cascaded down your face, washing away the makeup that clung onto your face, black lines of mascara crawled down your cheeks. Remmick pressed his face against the crook of your neck, placing sloppy kisses against your skin stopping to kiss the shell of your ear.

"Drink from me again, baby...I wanna be consumed by you." Remmick begged. His words made you squeeze your thighs together, trying your best to ease the throbbing ache of your clit, you wanted him to touch you - to fuck you against the tiles. You pushed him away from you again, your hands ran up his pecks, resting them onto his broad shoulders. Slowly your tongue dragged against the same spot you drank from earlier, and without missing a beat you bit down again, the thick blood painting against his skin. Remmick whimpered as his hand rested on your hip, while the other crept between your thighs, pressing his thick fingers against your throbbing clit.

You bucked your hips against his hand as he slowly rubbed circles around the sensitive bud, the sensation of his fingers slowly working over your wet sex made your maw tighten around his throat which made Remmick smile in bliss.

"Mhm, j-just like that..." He cried out, lulling his head back as his fingers picked up speed, and your nails scratched against his skin. With careful yet precise movements Remmick pushed two fingers inside of you, his ring and middle fingers nestled inside of your warmth, and his knuckles brushed against your swollen clit as he slowly fucked you with his fingers. You squirmed underneath his fingers as the hot water danced over you back and shoulders, the water clinging into your hair, making your natural tresses coil tightly to frame your face.

With a scissoring motion of his fingers he picked up the pace, earning a sigh of pleasure from you, your blood soaked mouth pulling away from his neck. With his free hand he held your face and his once brown irises transformed into a blazing ruby red shade, cutting through the steam that shielded both of your bodies within the shower. The wet sounds of your pussy being pleasured by Remmick's thick fingers were slightly muffled by the water beating against the glass sliding door and grimy tiles, yet the both of you could still hear it, soaking in the raunchy sound as if it was a beautiful symphony. Rolling your hips against his fingers you bit your lip, the shine of his dark blood on your mouth only drew him in closer towards you.

You were already feeling so full by just his fingers, and with a heaving chest your lips ghosted over his open mouth, his eyebrows knitted together at your actions - it was as if he was trying to taste your honey coated words.

"Come to me, open yourself to me, and make me realize what I've been missin' all these years, baby..." You groaned out as his fingers pressed deeper into your pussy at your statement. Obediently he nodded his head as his fingers picked up the pace, fucking into your core until a creamy mess was formed between his hand and your dripping pussy. Your body began to tremble against his as the tight coil of burning pleasure tugged within your core, begging for its release.

Whimpers and moans cascaded from your mouth and melted into the sounds of the shower. Remmick would pull his fingers out to rub tight circles on your clit, re-entering you to fill you up with the thrusting of his fingers, and then pull out again. The repeating actions of his hands working over your creamy and wet sex made your head spin, and with a slack mouth you screamed out a sharp 'fuck' as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. The knot within your core snapped like a rubber band and the floodgates of your orgasm rushed out of you, your legs shaking dangerously under your weight as Remmick pressed you against the wall with his toned body, steading your shivering body that racked with reaching your climax.

Remmick slowed his movements as he helped you ride out your orgasm, his red irises scanning over your face that twisted in ecstasy, and his mouth placed sloppy yet tender kisses on your cheek and jawline. You breath heavy against his ear as your hands tangled into his wet hair - your fingers splitting the soaked brown strands that clung onto the back of his neck. Remmick pulled his fingers out of your spent core, making you shiver from slight overstimulation, but what he did next only made your core clench with the need to be filled again.

He placed his fingers that were slick with your juices inside of his mouth, his tongue and sharp fangs greedily lapped up the sweet taste of you - a moan of satisfaction oozed from him as he continued to suck on his fingers. Slowly he dragged his tongue across his rough knuckles, licking at the velvety cream from your wet pussy off of his hand, he made sure that none of it went to waste and you watched on in awe.

Remmick reached for your thighs, lifting you up by your wet legs, making you yelp out in surprise. Your breast pressed firmly against his chest as he held you close to him, your forehead rested on his chin as you watched Remmick pump himself within his hand, your eyes gazed intensely as he jerked himself. His already hard dick growing stiffer as the thick vain that trailed up towards his leaking tip throbbed with anticipation of entering you. Lulling his head back your eyes locked into his while your hand scratched at his scalp, the soft tresses of his hair tangling between your fingers.

"I'm ready to show you...I'm not scared anymore." He mumbled. You weren't sure what he was referring to, but you simply nodded your head, which made Remmick sigh in comfort. Your legs wrapped around his waist while your arms steadied yourself over his shoulders, hugging him close, your nose brushing against his. And without warning he placed his tongue onto your bloodied chin, dragging the pink muscle over your chin and towards your swollen lips, cleaning off the blood that clung onto your skin and replacing the thick gore with saliva, yet it still left behind a shade of crimson on your face. You tried to catch his tongue with your lips, tilting your head up to follow his movements but he pulled away from you, a strained whine escaping your lungs.

You watched as his cheeks hollowed and you noticed that he didn't even bother to swallow the blood he had just lapped up from your face; instead he held the thick ichor within his mouth, leaning back as a thick string of red saliva slowly dripped from his lips. You gasped at the sight as your pussy clenched around nothing, the bloody drool slowly crept between you two, landing straight on his harden cock that wept with precum. His hand began to pump himself again and your eyes flicked between his flexing bicep and his heavy dick bobbing up and down from his own touch.

"Drink from me...I wanna feel you drain me while I fuck you - dammit! I-I needa feel that pain, I gotta," he whined as his hand moved faster, pumping his dick within his hand with a rapid tempo. "Please, please, please."

Your hands cupped his face and slowly your fingers trailed down his jawline, stopping to press down on the punctured wound your sharp teeth left behind. Remmick hissed in pain but he continued his plea for you to bite him again, as if your venomous fangs could absolve him from years of sins he committed. Your other hand that was once holding his face lovingly was now nestled within his hair, and with a sharp tug you pulled his head back, exposing his ivory neck that was covered in thick crimson. The water from the rusty shower head slowly washed away the blood that painted his skin, but alas - your mouth returned to the open wound and you began to feast. Gorging yourself on his rich and savory blood as if you hadn't eaten anything in weeks.

Holding the base of his cock within his hand Remmick lightly taps the tip of his dick onto your throbbing clit, making you moan with a slight flinch, your back arching as your tongue dragged against the flesh wound you left behind - pulling the blood out of his cold artery. His rough and calloused hand cupped your ass as he rubs his drool soaked dick between your slick folds, slightly poking at your entrance as he drag himself up and down, only stopping to tap his leaking tip on your clit. He was teasing himself, trying his best to savor your touch, and the softness of your body.

But dammit! You needed him to fuck you senseless...

Remmick whimpered as your sharp fangs bit down harder, your hand that was tangled in his wet hair yanked his head back, but he continued to rub himself against your dripping folds. A beat passed as he dragged his dick against your aching pussy one last time - and he entered you - the feeling of his thick cock pushing past your soft walls made your already foggy mind spin in pleasure.

A guttural moan ripped through your body, slowly you try to detach your mouth from his neck, to give your praises to him. But his strong hand held onto the back of your head, holding your face flush against his neck. He was serious about you draining him dry. He drags his length out of you, only his tip nestled within your clenching walls, and he rocks his hips back into you - hitting your sweat spot deliciously inside you. You bucked your hips to met his, both of you ravenous and out of sync, yet the feeling of him fucking you into the wet tiles made your core burn with pleasure. Tasting his blood on your lips and his cock ramming into your soaking pussy made your mind buzz with overwhelming emotions.

And then it happened.

Memories crashed into you like waves in a tsunami; memories that weren't yours. Your body froze in place as Remmick continued to buck his hips into you, sharp grunts revibrating from your chest with each thrust he made, yet the fuzzy echo of nostalgia pulled you from your body - it was as if you were floating overhead - observing a movie on the big screen. You felt everything that Remmick felt; the wind, the tall grass nipping at his skin, and the sun.

So warm...

The golden sun enveloped his form like a blanket, swaddling him in comfort and security. He laid within the grass, sweat clinging onto his face and neck, yet the soft wind cooled down his heated body. Tall hills rolled past the the tree line, green and endless, and the sky was crystal clear - not a cloud in sight. His hands, cracked and bruised, rested on his chest.

A beating heart.

Rough hands that were owned by a carpenter, the kind that barely made any money - spending his days shaping wells and homes. In the distance muffled sounds of horses galloping hit your ears, yet you couldn't see, Remmick didn't bother to tilt his head up to look. Fear tugged within his heart as words of Englishmen spreading their reach on his land, quiet whispers exchanged between villagers about strange new laws, unjust taxes, and even stranger beliefs.

He decided to clear his head by lounging outside of his cottage, listening to the birds sing their songs, wishing that the pain and hurt he was experiencing would blow away with the summer breeze. His wife had stopped singing, stopped stitching and sewing her days away, all she did now was lay in bed.

Crying.

His daughter, looked just like him, past away a year ago from sickness. Grief rattled within his bones with each breath he took, this life was hell, and it didn't help that an Englishman offered him something that he couldn't refuse.

Gold.

In exchange of his labor, he'd pay Remmick in hard gold, the fear and anger tugged within his rapid heart beat. Yet he couldn't refuse - he had a family to feed. Yet the choice gnawed at him like rot within bog water.

He wished he had refused.

Fear, pain, isolation. The feeling of razor sharp teeth plunging in the warmth of his skin, sharp fingernails holding his trembling body in place, and the screams of terror were only met with the squelching of his blood hitting cobblestone. Your body began to tremble, began to shake, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. In exchange of gold and false pretenses this...Vampire took his life.

Remmick's life.

He was trapped here now, no where to turn to, no one to save him. And his once clear yet troubled mind was warped, clouded by his sire's sick ideals, Remmick was under his spell - force to do anything that his sire asked for. It was hell, it was torture. Your mind raced, broke apart, scattered, and repaired itself as you scanned Remmick's faded memories. Your mouth pulled away from his neck and your eyes widen in shock, tears that clung within your eye lashes spilled over, your chest heaved heavily in an attempted to catch your breath.

It felt like you've just got punched in the gut.

Remmick held you close, still nestled deep within your core, and his hips slowly met yours. His strokes were purposeful, full of passion and love, resting his forehead onto yours you both stared intensely in each others eyes. Never in your undead life would you have thought Remmick would open himself up to you like this - to show you how he became...This way. You lulled your head to the side as cries ripped from you, but with gentle hands Remmick made you look at him again. The water from the shower head washed away some of the thick blood that clung onto your lips, your eyes were so blown wide and your senses heightened, everything you felt made your body tremble underneath Remmick.

He continued to fuck into you, and your soaking walls swallowed his throbbing cock with each snap of his hips. You crashed your lips onto his, and your legs locked him in place, no words were exchanged between the two of you - but you both knew that this moment you shared was more than an attempt of connection. This was his way of showing you just how much he trusted you; just how much he needed you to be here with him.

Even just for the night.

Remmick's tongue licked up your neck towards your jawline, his hips bucking faster, and the sensation of him stretching you out earned high pitched grunts from your lungs with each tender snap of his hips. You moaned into his open mouth, his lips ghosting over yours, and you could feel yourself reaching your second orgasm. You mouth hung open slack and you didn't realize you were drooling, but without missing a beat Remmick dragged his tongue across chin and towards your plump lips, savoring your taste that was mixed within his thick blood that clung onto your face.

"Fuck...Just like that, keep goin' I'm so close." You moaned as your speech slurred out with each sweet thrust of his hips, your pussy clenching around him. Remmick's head rested on your shoulder as he fucks into you sloppily, his thrust were sporadic and out of sync from yours - you can tell he was close too. The familiar knot within your stomach tightly coiled, the aching need for it to be released tugged at your loins.

Your nails dug into his skin, scratching at his back wildly and with cry of pleasure that knot within your core snapped - the burning pleasure of reaching your climax rippled through your entire being. The feeling of your soaking pussy swallowing him whole, fluttering around his sensitive cock made Remmick whimper out in unadulterated gratification, throwing his head back he rocked his hips into you one last time before the intense tidal wave of his orgasm crashed into him. The feeling of his warm seed filling you up made you shiver in ecstasy - it made you feel whole.

It made you feel completed.

Your hand stroked the back of his head, urging Remmick through his release to keep fucking into you, and he obediently followed your wordless order. Dragging his dick in and out of you Remmick filled you up to the brim, yet you both needed more. Pulling himself out of your warmth your body shook from delicious overstimulation. Remmick leaned in and kisses your tear stained cheeks, holding you close within his arms, the both of you standing in silence was the once hot shower water slowly got colder.

That didn't bother you or him though.

Pulling away you planted sloppy kisses on his mouth, cheek, and jaw. Your lips hungrily kissed anywhere that you could and he welcomed each and every peck from you. His hands guided you towards the foggy glass door, your breast pressing against the hard surface and Remmick toned body laid flush against your backside. Feather soft kisses trailed down your shoulder blade, the nape of your neck, and the middle of your spine. Remmick's hand pumped his sensitive dick within his rough palms, his once spent cock growing firmer with each stroke he made with his hand. Your curly coils clung onto your slick wet skin, clinging onto your hot brown face. The ember lighting within the bathroom made your wet skin shine brightly - it was as if you were a bronzed goddess that stood before him.

Remmick needed to feel every inch of you...

Slowly he entered you again, your slick sex that dripped with your arousal and his cum welcomed his thick cock deliciously, your breath hitched within your throat as his hands wrapped around your hips. He bucked into your warmth and the raunchy wet sounds of him fucking you into the glass sliding door reverberated off of the tiles and water stained walls, it was like music to your ears. You fucked him back, your ass meeting his hips halfway and your pussy gripped onto him for dear life - you wanted him to fill you up again - to feel his hot seed soak your pink soft walls. Your eyes were lidded heavily as your arched your back, and your head lulled back, looking over your shoulder to watch Remmick pound into your core.

His bottom lip was tugged between his teeth and his sharp fangs glistened within the golden florescent light. You ran your tongue across your upper lip, tasting his full-bodied blood that clung onto your mouth, you needed him to come in you again; to push you past your brink and send you to your ultimate ruin.

"Faster, ah shit - harder, baby..." You begged between the long strokes Remmick gave you. He replied to your request by bucking his hips firmly against your ass, the once slow pace grew faster as he fucked into your clenching pussy with force, making your mouth open slack in nothing but pleasure. Your legs were weak and you could barley hold your arch - yet Remmick's strong hands supported you, holding you in place while his eyes watched your pussy greedily swallowed his dick. A creamy mess was quickly formed between the two of you due to the friction, your wetness, and his come spilling out of you from his previous orgasm. His hand cupped the plush skin of your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch the velvety soft froth of come cling onto his throbbing cock.

The feeling of familiar pressure building up within your core again and your nails scratched at the water soaked glass. You backed your ass up against him, meeting his powerful thrust half way, and turning your head to look over your shoulder you both locked eyes with each other. "I love you, Remmi...Fuck - I love you so much." You cried. Remmick whimpered at your words, he paused his movements for a beat, warming his cock within your clenching pink walls.

"I love you too, baby."

"Don't stop, please! Fill me up again, I-I need to feel you..."

And just like that Remmick gave you one final thrust, his mouth latching onto the nape of your neck, and his ruby red irises shut tightly. The hold he had on your waist was vice-like and his second orgasm ripped through his trembling body, tears that clung within the corner of his eyes slipped pass his lashes as his release hit him and crashed into you like a snap of a rubber band. He came inside of you again - but this time he filled you to the brim, it was too much - he was giving you his all, and his sweet seed seeped out of your quivering pussy with each lazy thrust he made.

The creamy yet sinful mess from both of your orgasm clung onto Remmick's pelvis and toned lower half of his abdomen, he couldn't help but to watch how delicious it looked against your bronzed ass cheeks. He needed to taste you filled with him - at least once. Drool seeped out the corner of his open mouth, and with slowed movements he pulled himself out of your warmth, a shiver of ecstasy raced through your tired body.

Heavy breathing filled the air as Remmick lovingly turned you back around to face him, his hand stroking your hair softly, tucking the wet strands behind your ear. The water from the shower was now ice cold, but the multiple orgasms that racked through your body kept you warm - like being swaddled in a cozy blanket. Your forehead pressing on his your lips caught each other's, fighting and dancing for dominance, and Remmick moan into your hot mouth at the taste of his blood that still clung onto your lips.

He broke away from the kiss, his wet lips trailing down your neck, collar bone, between your breast, down your abdomen, and stopping at the mound of your pussy. You shivered at this, your mouth hanging slack as your hands cupped your breast - nimble fingers pinching your nipples as Remmick looked up at you with heavy lidded eyes. The sharp zap of pleasurable pain from rolling and squeezing your nipples within your fingers raced down your spent pussy.

"I needa taste you, pretty girl. I needa taste us."

"S-So do it then..." You whined, which made Remmick chuckle, his lips tugging in a wide toothy smile. He leaned forward, spreading your thighs with his strong hands, and you shivered at the feeling of his breath grazing your swollen clit. Remmick placed a tender kiss on your inner thigh and without warning he spread your slick pussy lips open with his index and middle finger, spitting on your clit, and a giggle slipped from your lips. Your hand tangled within his hair as he dipped his head lower between your thighs, and with a gentle lick he ran his tongue across your soaking come filled pussy.

Remmick was savoring the taste of your juices and his seed as if it was a delicacy, his warm tongue flattening against your throbbing clit, and he dragged his tongue back towards your entrance, repeating the movement as your nails dug into his scalp. Your back arched against the now cooled glass shower door, rocking your hips against his face in an attempt to alleviate the bubbling pleasure that tugged at your core. His nose brushed against your clit as his tongue licked at your dripping core, a moan of ecstasy ripped through his chest, and slowly Remmick pushed his ring and middle finger inside of your soft walls. Your pussy hungerly swallowed his digits as he fucked into you with his hands, plugging the leaking thick cum that slipped past your folds.

Slowly he moved his fingers in and out, his knuckles grazing against your swollen clit and your legs began to shake. Remmick spit on your clit again, but he quickly licked it up and a sigh of satisfaction rolled from your body. His lips latched onto your clit as he began to suck shaking his head as his fingers continue to fuck into you with a scissoring motion. It was nasty, raunchy, and dirty. Yet you couldn't stop rolling your hips, staring down at your lover with awe as he sucked on your sensitive button like it was a piece of candy.

He lightly bit your clit between his sharp teeth and his fingers worked over your wet sex. Your head still buzzing from your third orgasm and the mind altering experience of reliving Remmick's memories made your body shake, his mouth and fingers worked in tandem with each other over your core and that same agonizing need for release nipped at you brutally. And with a passing beat that knot within your stomach finally snapped, making you squirt all over Remmick's chin and heaving chest. He pulled his soaked fingers out of your quivering pussy, only to replace them with his tongue - using his tongue to fuck into to taste him and your sweet juices, cleaning you up as you rode through your intense climax.

"Fuck...Yes. Oh, god, yes!" You chanted rolling your hips against his face, he smiled into your core. With a wet pop he removed his lips from your sensitive pussy, rising up on his feet to crash his swollen lips onto yours. You could taste his comforting seed and your sweet pussy juice on his lips, you sighed into the kiss pushing him against the tile walls as your tongues danced across each other. Between the heavy make out session you bit his lip, pulling it back in a teasing manner, only for him to close the space again. The water from the shower washed away your sins, cleansing both of your sweat and blood slick bodies.

You pulled away from his kiss again, a string of saliva that connected your bottom lip with his snapping, and you shot him a wide yet lopsided smile.

"Yeah, baby. we're doin' this all night...We gotta make up for lost time."

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

A lone lamp glowed low on the nightstand, it's ember light muffled beneath the balled up lace and silk from the top of one of your many lingerie sets that haphazardly, casting a sultry hue of pink mixed with burnt orange. Smoke curled lazily within the thick air as a half smoke cigarette hung between your plump swollen lips. The scent of stale nicotine mixed with soapy lavender and the raw carnal smell of sex clung within the air. Your brown skin glistened with a slight seen of sweat.

The TV flickered a soft neon blue, this time it was displaying a documentary about lions thriving within the savannas of Africa, the blue cutting through the warm shade like a sharp blade. It's blue glow crawled across the multicolored comforters that nestled within the double sized low bed. You laid sprawled on your stomach, the ashtray that were full of cigarette butts rested on the fitted bed sheets. Rolling your ankle your eyes were glued onto your lover and taking a drag from your cigarette you pushed out a cloud of grey smoke.

Remmick laid against the bed's headboard, he was just as undone as you were, just as spent. The two of you were taking a break after fucking each other within the thick bed covers, your jaw was slightly sore from sucking his harden cock - but you knew that more was to come. The cigarette he'd been smoking now rested delicately between the pegs of his guitar, the tip of his cigarette was still ignited, the thin smoke curling within the hot sex filled air. His calloused fingers moved with ease over the metal strings, a low moody melody reverberated and bounced off of the chipped motel walls.

You rolled onto your side, your eyes half lidded as you watched Remmick strum away, the blue light of the television painted over your body - clinging onto your skin as you took a long drag from your cigarette. Your lips parted slightly as heavy smoke slowly crept up your mouth towards your nose, you blew a breath pushing the smoke out into the air again. Your voice joined the melody of Remmick's strumming, a soft and loving hum danced along with the melancholy song. And the small room you both rested in held its breath, awaiting for the both of you to make another move. Remmick showed you more glimpses and snapshots of his life. Indulging you with his true wants, fears, and desires within your linked minds. It made you understand him; made you feel more connected and seen.

Two bodies, one mind, one soul.

Pressing the cigarette butt within the ashtray, you crawled closer towards your lover, slow and deliberate. The thin fitted bedsheets clung slightly on your sweat slicked knees and the soft hue of the shaded lamp painted over every curve, dip, and valley on your body. Your hands rested onto Remmick's shoulders; fingers splaying across his ivory colored chest and tangling around the golden necklace. His dark eyes gazed back into yours, the black wooden guitar still within his lap, but he halted strumming away on the metal strings.

Love, respect, reverence, and adoration.

For the first time in your unholy union Remmick respected you - viewing you as his equal. This was a partnership now, not some power fantasy that stroked his ego all those years ago. Your lips ghosted just above his, foreheads pressing against each other, and your steady breath filled his open mouth. A smile that was laced in nothing but pure devotion tugged at your lips and the warmth of care lingered within your intense gaze.

"When the sun sets; we're leavin'...I'm ready to come back home." You said, not breaking the heavy eye contact with Remmick.

"I'm ready to come back home too."

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

tag(s): @levibabymama-blog @3xclusivemariii @cosmicneptune @qveendiorsworld

#remmick sinners #sinners fanfiction #remmick x reader #remmick x you #remmick imagine #remmick smut #remmick fanfic #remmick x reader smut #vampire smut #remmick x oc #remmick x black!reader #remmick x fem!reader #black reader #remmick x y/n

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xxsyluslittlecrowxx · 14 hours ago

Text

Bride of the Last Dragon.

Prologue

[ dragon!sylus x f!reader ]

They say a dragon’s fury is born of hunger, but I have seen the truth: rage takes root in the fractures of a heart that once dared to hope. The kingdom calls him a monster, striving to quiet his wrath with tributes of gold and the bodies of trembling brides. I was meant to be the latest sacrifice—just another lamb led to sate a legend. Yet in the mountain’s shadow, I discovered a creature who despises the fear that sustains him, who watches me with eyes older than the sun. We are bound by something deeper than duty, more dangerous than love. And as the world begins to burn, only I can choose what price mercy demands. Some stories are forged in fire; others, in quiet ruin. This is a tale of both. “Where love dares to bloom, destruction follows.”

ABOUT | 2.5k slow burn. doomed yearning. moral ambiguity. impossible choices. ancient grief. quiet moments before the storm. a sword raised in mercy.

TAGS | dark romantasy. monster x maiden. political decay. psychological tension. cursed love. final betrayal. moral ruin. fire and ash.

MUSIC : burn your village // kiki rockwell

NOTE : So—this is my way of thanking you for the support you’ve given me. Here’s the prologue, a taste-test, an amuse-bouche of what awaits us in this tale of ruin. I hope it lives up to your expectations, at least a little.

Look out for Chapter One—if all goes well, it might be up before the fourteenth of July.

Also: the next chapter of the isekai project will drop next week, as well as a new installment of TMTDU! I’m heading to a festival tomorrow, so things might be a bit chaotic, but I’m excited to share more soon.

Thank you, as always, for reading. ♡

Prologue

ONCE, IN AN AGE...

...of storms and ruin, when dragons carved their fury across the heavens and kings wept prayers into cold, indifferent winds, a kingdom waited in breathless silence for the sun to rise.

It never did.

On the third dawnless morning, the keep at the heart of the realm loomed as a jagged silhouette against skies black as a bruise. Spires that once gleamed with gilded weathercocks now jutted like broken spears. Ash fell in soft, ceaseless flurries, clinging to the tattered banners drooping from scorched ramparts. Smoke curled from the smoldering wreckage of village after village beyond the keep’s gates, drifting across frozen fields strewn with charred bones and shattered plows.

The air hung heavy with the scent of burnt iron and old blood.

Inside the keep, silence reigned thicker than any dirge. Echoes of grief slithered between columns of cracked marble, brushing against soot-blackened tapestries that whispered stories of glories long surrendered. The few remaining knights, gaunt and wild-eyed, stood watch in the shadows, their armor dulled to a lifeless gray.

At the heart of this ruin, upon a dais fractured by claw marks deeper than any blade could cut, slumped the man who had once been called king. His crown lay crooked upon sweat-slick hair, its golden band bent and blackened. His eyes, ringed with sleepless nights, darted to the darkened windows at every rumble of distant thunder beyond the keep’s shattered ramparts.

He had spent the last hours choking out frantic prayers, his words rasping like brittle parchment before dissolving into the stale, choking air. Yet no gods answered. Only silence—and the hollow echo of his own heartbeat.

They said the dragon’s wings could blot out the moon. That his eyes burned with the glow of molten stone, reflecting every coward’s plea in cruel, unflinching light. They said he came not for conquest, but for punishment. And now the king’s mind recoiled at every rustle of the wind, every shiver of dying torchlight, certain that the last dragon watched from beyond the horizon, savoring the taste of his fear.

In that hollow throne room, among relics of a glory devoured by flame, the king understood what every man who had survived the endless night now knew:

The dragon was coming.

And there would be no dawn until his hunger was sated.

A door groaned open at the far edge of the throne room, the sound slicing the hush like a blade through silk. A procession of nobles entered beneath the dim, guttering torches—men and women once resplendent in silks, now cloaked in heavy furs darkened by ash and reeking of fear. They gathered in a loose crescent around the dais, the air between them shimmering with unspoken accusations.

A gaunt duke, a livid scar splitting his lip, was the first to break the silence.

“You said the pact was old superstition,” he spat, words honed sharp as a spearhead. “You told us the dragon was dead.”

A baroness swathed in a gown that smelled faintly of burnt lavender lifted her chin, her voice brittle as frost.

“You assured us your armies could hold him at bay.” Her jeweled fingers trembled against the iron pommel of a dagger hidden in her sleeve.

A lord in a wine-stained collar let out a hollow laugh, brittle as shattered glass.

“The beast cares nothing for your excuses,” he sneered. “He wants blood. He wants proof you remember how to kneel.”

Their words tumbled over each other, a rising storm of blame and terror. Accusations twisted into threats; old grievances bloomed like festering wounds. Voices cracked, swore, broke into ragged sobs. Centuries of gilded civility, painstakingly cultivated in court, dissolved in a single heartbeat beneath the dragon’s looming shadow.

Then a woman in a tattered sapphire cloak stepped forward, her face pale as moonlight. In her arms, she carried a bundle swaddled in gray linen—a child’s blanket.

“The villagers speak of wings like thunder,” she murmured, voice barely more than a ghost of sound. “They say the dragon’s roar shakes the mountains. That he comes not for war, but for the justice we denied him.”

Her words settled over the assembly like a funeral shroud.

The king struggled to stand, his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles blanched. His knees buckled. He tried to speak—tried to shape words of courage or command—but only a hoarse rasp tumbled from his lips.

A breathless hush swept the hall.

From the shadows stepped the old priest, his robes reeking of candle smoke and damp stone. His eyes glistened with something darker than despair as he lifted a trembling hand toward the king. His voice, low and sepulchral, rolled through the hall like thunder across a graveyard.

“The pact was forged for nights such as these,” he intoned. “And the pact must be honored.”

A single word rose among the gathered nobles, hushed yet deafening in its finality:

“Bride.”

Eyes turned to the king. Some glittered with cold vindication, others swam with tears. Murmurs of prayers, curses, and half-remembered prophecies rippled through the hall like a fevered chant. A mother’s quiet, broken sob carried across the stone, raw enough to split hearts.

A cold gust slipped through the cracks of the shattered windows, snuffing half the torches in an instant. Darkness pooled at the edges of the chamber, creeping inward like a tide of dread. The flames that survived spat and danced wildly, throwing monstrous shadows of the courtiers across cracked walls—shadows that writhed like ghosts of the innocent.

And in the hush that followed, the king bowed his head over the empty cradle beside his throne. The cradle’s pale wood was scorched at the corners, its bedding stained by a single drop of ash-darkened blood. His breath stuttered once, twice, as the first syllables of surrender began to shape themselves on his tongue.

A thunderous beat reverberated overhead—a single, titanic pulse of power that rattled ancient beams and sent clouds of dust spiraling from the rafters. The remaining torches guttered in unison, flames bowing low as if in trembling supplication.

Another wingbeat rolled across the keep, closer this time, shaking the stone floor beneath the nobles’ boots. A thin, keening whine rose from the wind pressing against the shattered windows, carrying with it the scent of lightning and scorched stone.

Then silence—so sudden, so absolute, it rang louder than any roar.

From the darkness beyond the gaping arch of the ruined doors, he stepped into the throne room: the last dragon, cloaked in the guise of a man, yet unmistakably inhuman.

His hair fell in pale, silver strands around obsidian horns that swept back like crowns of ruin. Crimson fissures pulsed across the planes of his chest, each heartbeat igniting molten light beneath skin marred by old fury. His eyes burned the color of fresh blood—two fathomless pools of patient, simmering hatred.

A hush strangled every voice in the hall. Even the weeping mother fell silent, her breath caught on terror’s blade.

At the threshold, the dragon paused. His crimson gaze swept the room, lingering on each quivering figure as if weighing the worth of every soul. His lips curled—not with rage, but with slow, deliberate amusement.

“Ah,” he drawled, his voice a rich, resonant timbre, every syllable threaded with something ancient and merciless. “So this is the court of kings. I expected… more splendor. But perhaps I should not have placed faith in the architects of ash.”

He stepped forward, each movement unhurried and deliberate, savoring how the nobles shrank from his approach. His claws clicked softly against the stone—a subtle, dreadful percussion.

“Tell me,” he continued, his voice curling like smoke, “how many titles did you invent for yourselves while you cowered here? How many prayers did you whisper to gods too tired to listen?”

No one answered. The king’s throat worked soundlessly, mouth parted around words that would not come.

The dragon’s gaze found him—pinned him like a spear of crimson fire. His smile sharpened, eyes glinting with a predator’s mirth.

“Little Lord of Cinders,” he mused, head tilting with sinuous curiosity, “did you truly think hiding in your broken tower would save you?”

The mocking title slid into the silence like poison into wine, staining every ear with humiliation. Murmurs spread through the nobles like ripples across stagnant water.

The last dragon began a slow, deliberate circuit around the dais, boots stirring shallow pools of sooty water. His gaze drifted over each courtier, unblinking, unhurried.

“You were so quick to raise banners,” he murmured, voice soft as falling snow. “So swift to swear oaths you never meant to keep.” His crimson stare pinned the baroness, the scarred duke, the old priest—one by one, each caught in his patient, scorching regard. “Did you think your lies were clever enough to blind the eyes that first watched dawn rise over these mountains?”

A sudden crack of lightning split the sky beyond the keep, illuminating him in stark, terrible relief—horns, molten scars, blood-red eyes—no longer man, but the storm’s own favored child.

As thunder rolled in the lightning’s wake, the last dragon turned to face the king once more.

“I have come to collect what was promised,” he said, his words cold and irrevocable. “Or shall your kingdom pay the price for your cowardice?”

The hall held its breath. Beyond the broken walls, the wind howled like the mourning of the dead.

The king’s lips parted at last, but whatever plea he might have mustered died beneath the weight of those crimson eyes. He sank to his knees—not in grace, but in hollow collapse. His crown slipped from his brow, ringing once against the stone before rolling to the foot of the dais like a discarded trinket.

The last dragon did not glance at it. His gaze remained fixed on the king—sharp, unblinking, almost amused.

“See how they fall,” he murmured, low and almost to himself. “Kings, lords, men who named themselves rulers of the earth. All on their knees, as they were always meant to be.”

The nobles held their tongues. One man’s hand drifted to his sword, only to fall away beneath the dragon’s silent regard. A mother clutched her child tighter, as though the infant might shield her from the ancient fury before them.

The dragon’s attention shifted to her, and for a breath the hall stood frozen. Then his mouth curved—not in rage, but in something colder.

“Ah. The mothers,” he said softly, voice steeped in pity turned bitter. “You I almost grieve for. You clutch what you should have shielded with honesty and courage. And now, you clutch too late.” His gaze swept the gathered courtiers, lingering on faces gaunt with hunger and hollowed by dread. “You built your kingdoms upon treachery and greed, and now you weep when the world remembers.”

He strode forward, each step slow and deliberate, boots striking the stone with the weight of inevitability. He stopped before the dais, looking down at the kneeling king.

“I will not take a babe from its cradle,” he said, his voice carrying the quiet certainty of a storm long since resolved. “I am not as you are.”

The words fell like stones into a silent well. “Your daughter shall be mine when she reaches her twentieth year. And the daughters who follow. Every firstborn lady of royal blood. This is the price of the peace you squandered.”

A sharp inhalation rippled through the hall. The king bowed lower, his forehead brushing the cold, unyielding stone.

“Do you not speak, Little Lord of Cinders?” the dragon asked, head tilting as though to better catch some feeble reply. His smile deepened, cruel and amused. “Ah, but what is left to say? You would sell anything—your gold, your daughters, your gods—for a few more years cowering behind your shattered walls.”

A baron tried to form words, some protest half-born, but the dragon’s eyes cut to him, and his voice withered before it touched air.

“You will deliver your daughters to me, as promised,” the dragon continued, his tone softening to the razor’s edge of mockery. “And in return, I will not reduce this wretched keep to ash. I will not scatter your bones to the winds tonight. Consider it… generosity.”

Outside, the wind rose in a low, mournful wail.

“And when she comes to me,” the last dragon said, his gaze drifting to the empty cradle beside the throne, “I will give her what your kind never could: truth. No lies. No hollow banners. No oaths waiting to be broken.”

He stepped back, the storm’s breath at his heels.

“Remember this night. Remember the price of your greed. And pray, Little Lord, that twenty years will be enough to teach your kind humility.”

Without waiting for reply, he turned, his form swallowed whole by the dark beyond the ruined doors.

The storm swept after him, as if called to heel, and the breathless quiet that followed rang louder than thunder.

The nobles remained frozen, each afraid that the slightest movement might summon the dragon’s return. Only the wind, threading through shattered windows and crumbling stones, dared disturb the suffocating stillness. The king did not rise. His crown lay forgotten at his feet, and his gaze stayed fixed upon the empty cradle beside him, its pale wood etched forever in shadow.

No word was spoken. No prayer uttered. Not even the priest’s voice rose to bless what remained.

Outside the keep, the storm unfurled its fury across the desolate land. Lightning stitched jagged scars across the sky. Winds swept ash and sorrow alike, scattering them over fields where nothing would ever grow again.

And in the years that followed, the pact endured.

The firstborn daughter of royal blood, at the dawn of her twentieth year, was delivered to the mountain. A bride in name, a sacrifice in truth. No crown upon her head. No banner at her back. Only a lone rider, and the cold, unyielding road stretching from palace gates to the dragon’s dark domain.

Then another. And another still.

Through seasons of peace hard-won and peace squandered, the price was paid. Through kings who knelt and kings who raged, queens who wept and queens who did not, the price was paid.

One hundred and nine daughters. One hundred and nine brides. One hundred and nine sacrifices offered beneath storm-torn skies.

And with each, the kingdom’s hope dwindled further.

It is said that with every bride claimed, the dragon’s mountain grew taller, its shadow longer, until it loomed over the realm like a judgment no soul could escape.

It is said the songs changed too—that mothers no longer sang of bright futures and golden kings, but of storms and sorrow, of daughters cloaked in white and led into the dark.

And it is said—though none now dare whisper it aloud—that the pact’s end would come not with banners or armies, but with a blade, and a hand that trembled as it struck.

So the tale begins, as all such tales do: with a promise made in fear, and a debt that must, at last, be paid.

to be continued...

♡ brides of the last dragon : @blessdunrest @otome-house @kestrelmando @cms399 @cutestnursingstudent @wakeupr41 @orcawholikeskrakans @crimsonlittlecrow

♡ Taglist is open.

If you wish to walk with me through this ruin—if you wish to witness each fragment as it falls—simply reply or send an ask, and I’ll add you to the list.

[ cover template : miisuki on x ]

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #sylus qin #sylus love and deepspace #dragon!sylus #sylus dragon #dragon sylus #lads #sylus fanfic #sylus fanfiction #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus x f!reader #sylus x f!mc #sylus x you

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rorichuu · 2 days ago

Text

୨ little heart, keep beating ୧ deadsam

ART BY @lewalrus !

ao3 link !

synopsis: sam wakes from a nightmare, one where he can’t save louise after the incident with fragile. deadman finds him unraveling in the dark, and comforts him. overall, sam and deadman adjusting to their domestic life through grief and never really having a family to call their own until now. <3

pairing: deadman x sam porter

content, tags: angst with happy ending, panic attacks, descriptions of death, mild stuff but just to be safe !

wc: 1.2k

A/N: i fucking love these two. i really do hope whoever reads this enjoys it cause it's a really impulsive (and UBER short) write, but it's so vulnerable and real that i kinda have to share it. i also truly believe that they'd both be so clumsy when it comes to this family stuff,,,, but i feel like lou is what brings them together. :)

It was a dream, too hazy and rosy to be true. Yet, there it was... that little girl he raised shaking her toy as the bell rang inside from afar. The scene was warm and nostalgic, a place he would wish to live in in every lifetime if their world allowed him. As the dream carried on, Sam tried to reach out, but his knees were dug into the ground… a captive weight holding him down. Her round face turned to meet him from afar, her eyes shifted in color; her face swirled in an unidentifiable blur. Sam felt his throat tighten anxiously, the need to protect his little girl swallowing him whole. Hands that never quite reached, a call for her that never quite fell from his lips.

Without warning, Sam felt as though he had fallen over, knees finally lifting from the ground before the world blinked. Sam was now hunched over, arms stiff as he looked down at Louise in front of him. Louise was no longer the grown toddler he raised, she was small... too small. As if Louise had shrunk. Stillborn. Her body was limp and frozen, arms outstretched and legs no longer kicking in a fuss. Lifeless and cruel to witness her hollow Ha in absence of her innocent Ka. Her cries were now a deafening silence, dread curling deep in his stomach as she shrunk, losing her as his body kept him from reaching.

The dream was soon ripped away, his body lifting from where he laid, a gasp followed with a panicked cough. His chest was tight, his lungs were burning, his body all too fast and slow simultaneously. Sam was hyperventilating and moved to hunch over the edge of the bed, his hand finding his shirt as his hands curled into the fabric, as if an attempt to tear himself away from his own mind. Sam's vision blurred as his eyes watered and fogged his view. All he could see was the rough outline of the ground beneath him, cold and void of all color. Sam was losing feeling in his feet, creeping up his calves to meet his thighs and chest... a creeping boa constricting it's prey.

Sam felt the bed sink behind him, but he regarded it with little intention. A hand pressed against the wall of his back right before Sam flinched, unexpectant and tunnel-visioned. The hand was quick to retract, but the man slid beside him on the edge of the bed. His pale eyes were wide with worry, but Sam didn't look. He couldn't. He fucking couldn't.

"Sam? Sam, breathe. Breathe for me." The voice was like the foglight to his ship lost to sea, the rope that tugged and pulled him back when he felt the ocean run over him... a flooding. Like water filling his lungs, the way it swallowed him whole; a terror undefinable.

Sam’s gray hair fell over his face as he clenched his shirt still. His knuckles were white and stiff as the wrinkles and scars expanded under his grip, the sort of display that would have Sam rattled with shame. Deadman's lips formed a thin line, eyebrow furrowed as he focused entirely on the man beside him. "You're home." He began once more, the voice barely above a whisper. "Lou is asleep in her crib, Sam. She's okay, she's safe." Deadman spoke a familiar mantra. Sam began to come back down, shaking now as he felt his hand loosen.

Sam forced himself to blink, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to listen, ears giving way from the static that deafened his senses. His chest began to slow, shaky breaths leaving his wracked body. He felt his legs begin to feel the cold floor, his blood beginning to warm his body… senses slow to rejuvenate.

"Can I hold you, Sam?" Deadman asked, his hand hovering above his lover's back as he awaited Sam's permission. A minute passed, he believes... perhaps more. Time so little in the lack of importance as his mind slowly became his own again. The gray-haired man slowly nodded, choppy and half-present. Deadman slowly pressed the warmth of his hand against his bare back, Sam flinched... but it was Deadman's patience; his warmth that kept Sam grounded, he was slow to heal. But he was trying.

Deadman slowly enveloped Sam into a hug, arms slithering between Sam's stiffly locked ones. It was slow and awkward, but with his arms entangled with Sam, he began to lean into his comfort... a slow process. Sam began to breathe slower now, though his tears still glistened beneath the desk-clock's light. He stared at it, as if it would give him peace of mind knowing that time never stops. Not for anyone.

Sam's hands shakily lifted his hands, the blurred fists resting from it's lock to reveal his palms. His cheek was warm against Deadman's shoulder, brows still furrowed, and hands awkwardly held upward. It was a leap of confidence when he felt his hands holding tight to Deadman's thick arms, coming down from false realities. The silence no longer prevailed with heavy breaths and hiccuped fear.

Not too soon after, a cry echoed through their shared room. Sam felt his head lift, his head brushing with Deadman's cheek as his eyes zoned in on the crib beside them. Deadman watched, pale eyes watching intently. The cry was something close to a shriek. It was high pitched and loud in the deafening noise of their room… but Louise was awake. And Sam could finally breathe again. He tried to lift his body, though he was weak in the attempt. His legs shook as he grunted, shame hot at his cheeks as he kept his gaze downward. Deadman lifted a hand for Sam to take as they stood together, walking with a slow pace before Sam caught a glimpse of Louise sobbing in the depth of her crib.

Her face was pink from her screaming as she sniffled, eyes parting to find Sam looking down at her. Her mouth formed a frown before crying again, her eyes closed shut as she reached for him. Sam’s chest let go in a long, relieved sigh, his arms reaching out as he lifted his little girl. She wailed and immediately reached for Sam, tears staining her cheeks. Sam held Louise tight as her arms wrapped around his thick neck in return, terrified to lose one another. Deadman’s lips curled into the small attempts of a smile, relief washing over him as they gravitated towards their shared bed with clumsy steps.

Sam held Louise as she sniffled, gripping his shirt tight. Sam’s legs were curled upward, all the same to Deadman’s as their limbs entangled beneath thin sheets. Sam’s large arms held Louise as her head rested between his bicep and his forearm. He frowned deeply, a hand reaching and coaxing Louise back to sleep with his hand brushing her thin hair back.

The three of them shared breath, bated and heavy, though Deadman kept his gaze solely on Sam’s face. He had a furrowed brow and lips forming a tight line. If Deadman’s hand weren’t held captive beneath Louise's, he would press the pad of his thumb where his brow wrinkled between. Too pretty to be tarnished with worry. Deadman cradled them both.

The waves of Sam’s mind began to settle, and the storm clouds slowly parted. The ship still creaked with age and hurt, but there would always be a foglight to follow. After all, what is a ship without a sea to sail? Without storms to weather?

You, little Louise, are the reason our ship still sails.

rorichuu!

#death stranding #death stranding 2 #ds2 #ds1 #sam porter bridges #deadman #deadsam #sam x deadman #ds2 spoilers #rorichuu!

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urfavteengirl · 2 days ago

Text

permanent— matt sturniolo

“we should stick together— you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever” ♫ high all the time —the neighborhood

⋆˙⟡ in which: your best friend matt gives you a token of friendship that comes as a shock— because of how permanent it is

a/n: the idea came to me for this late at night so if it’s cringy i’m so sorry. but enjoy!!!! <3

Snoopy had always been your thing. Ever since you were a kid, you would doodle him everywhere from scrapbook paper to math homework sheets. And Matt was your Woodstock. He stuck by your side and was fearlessly your best friend, no matter what. When you got into a fight with the neighborhood boys over whether girls could play baseball or not; when you broke your moms vase and desperately needed an excuse (he took the blame); and especially when your grandma died and you could hardly keep yourself together. It wasn’t easy, life, but you knew you’d always have a companion in Matt. A best friend.

⋆˚꩜｡

You were doing your laundry when you got the text.

As soon as you received the notification you were abandoning your half done laundry, throwing on a sweatshirt, and— after grabbing a pint of ice cream out of the freezer— heading out your front door.

You gripped the steering wheel as you drove through the busy streets of LA. Of course Matt had to mysteriously text you right as the evening traffic began. Drumming your fingers on the steering wheel, you anxiously wondered what this so-called “surprise” might be. From the tone of his message, it sounded like a good thing, but nonetheless you hated surprises and Matt knew it.

When you pulled into the triplets’ driveway, you immediately parked and grabbed the half-melted ice cream from your passenger seat. You speed-walked into the boys’ shared apartment, climbing the stairs and anxiously looking around for any of its inhabitants.

You slipped into the kitchen and put the ice cream in the freezer. You caught a glance of yourself in the full length mirror that the boys kept near their couch and couldn’t help but let out a little giggle and your appearance. You looked flustered, nervous, and above all messy, so you patted down your curly flyaways in an attempt to make yourself look more presentable.

Finally Matt came out of his bedroom, wearing a sweatshirt and jean shorts. He grinned at you. “Hey,” He said, wiggling his eyebrows. He knew the underlying suspense of not knowing his surprise was killing you, and he was going to keep torturing you with it until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Where’s Nick and Chris?” You asked curiously, as you’d noticed the house was rather quiet, something that barely happened when the two chattier thirds of the triplets were present.

“Space Camp meeting, Chris tagged along with Nick.” He pushed his sweatshirt over his head, wearing one of your favorite t-shirts of his underneath. It was a white tee that had four dalmatians on it, and Florida below it in red.

You started to nod your head before catching a glimpse of… plastic? wrapped around Matt’s wrist.

“Did you get a new tattoo?” You asked curiously, tilting your head and walking over to him. He lifted his arm and rotated his wrist so you could see the fresh ink.

You froze. On the inner part of Matt’s wrist, below his lighthouse tattoo, was an image of Snoopy hugging Woodstock.

“Matt,” You started breathlessly. “You did not.”

“Surprise.” He smiled softly. “You know most of my tattoos are dedicated to the people I love. You’re my best friend and you’ve always been there for me, through the ups and downs of life. I had to show you how much I appreciate that. Do you like it?”

“Like it? Matt, I love it.” The back of your eyes began to burn and you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You failed. “But, that’s like, on you now, forever. It’s permanent.”

“And so is our friendship. You’ve stuck by my side for years, and I’m lucky to call you my best friend.” Matt looked at you with an amused expression as you cried pathetically over his token of gratitude to your friendship. “Unless you’re planning on dropping me sometime soon.” He joked, raising an eyebrow.

You snorted and laughed through your blinding tears. “Are you kidding me, Matt? We’re not in middle school.” The next thing you knew, you were in Matt’s arms, enveloped in a hug. He kept the arm with the tattoo held out to the side, to prevent it from being touched. “You’re a really good friend. Thank you so much. I don’t even know how to compete with that.”

Matt grinned. “Well you can start by grabbing the ice cream and two spoons.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night eating ice cream and reminiscing about the time when neither of you had a care in the world, except for each other.

Later, when you were finally back in your own bed, a thought occurred to you as sleep overcame your senses. Maybe today’s surprise was one you didn’t quite mind.

tysm for reading loves EEEEK i’m so happy to have u here :) this one was short but i hope you loved

#matt x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris x reader

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huntrix-saja-boys · 9 hours ago

Text

LUNA-R

This is my first fic for KPDH so please don't mean if characters are OOC.

Beta-read and music co-written by the lovely @queens-peril

Enjoy, heathens!

(also I may or may not make covers of the songs I wrote on my tiktok... when I make the instrumentals for it...)

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

Rumi groaned and turned to the noise behind her. "Do all of you have to be in here while I'm cooking?!"

"Yes." Mystery just stood there, possibly staring at her as he kept a hand on Baby's shoulder to try and stop him from jumping up and reaching his snack box.

Rumi pressed her lips into a thin line, staring at the four boys invading her kitchen. "Fine. If you keep bothering me, I have no choice but to burn your pancakes."

Baby, Romance, Abby, and presumably Mystery, all looked at her with wide eyes, shocked that she would even dream of doing something so horrendous. "NO!"

"Then out! Out of my kitchen! Begone!" She shooed them away, shaking her butter-covered spatula as they ran out. "Baby! Put those chips back! We're eating soon!"

"They're for Zoey!"

"They're not for me! He's lying!"

"Put them back, Baby!" Rumi said, turning back to the stove to keep cooking. She heard some quiet tussling in the living room, someone snatching something away before coming in.

"I know, I know." Jinu's gentle voice cut through the sizzling in the air. "I'll get out of your kitchen."

Rumi turned and smiled, seeing him put away the bag of chips before starting to leave. "Where's my good morning kiss?"

Jinu turned back, a smile gracing his lips before pulling her in for a quick peck. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log." He floated up and sat on the counter, letting Rumi move back to the stove. "That new mattress is amazing."

"Good. I was hoping a harder mattress could help with your back problems." She flipped the final pancake onto the stack and handed it to him, along with a large bowl of scrambled eggs and some syrup. "Take these to the table. And don't let Baby near them."

"Yes ma'am." He turned and left the kitchen as quietly as he came in.

"FOOD!"

"NO, BABY!" A smack echoed in the living room. "Bad Saja Boy!"

Rumi sighed and poured a large cup of black coffee for herself as she checked on the bacon. She was gonna need it if she was gonna deal with any of them today. "THANK YOU, ZOEY!"

"YOU'RE WELCOME!"

It only took a few short minutes before all the food was out on the pristinely set table. Everyone gathered around, the girls trying to eat with some decorum, and the boys shoveling food into their mouths like ravenous dogs. Well, all except for Jinu. He seemed to be the only one of the five with some level of restraint.

"You do realize that humans don't eat like that, right?" Zoey said, grabbing the attention of the four boys. "We're not wild animals when it comes to food."

Rumi and Mira both shared a knowing glance. They couldn't even count the times Zoey had demolished an entire Party Size bag of Cheeto Puffs before a concert. Or after a concert. Or on any regular day in general.

"But we're hungry..."

"You're always hungry," Mira said, rolling her eyes. "And don't speak with a mouthful of food. It looks and sounds gross."

"You look and sound gross!"

"Ok! Ok," Rumi said, holding up her hands to try a stop a fight from breaking out. "Both of you, calm down. And boys, you should probably eat slower. You're might choke if you don't."

They all rolled their eyes, mumbling under their breaths as they tried to eat like civilized people.

Once Jinu was done eating, he stood up and grabbed the few empty plates. "Finish up and get dressed. I want everyone by the door in 15 minutes so we can run errands."

Baby groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Can't you go on your own?"

"Getting groceries for eight people is not a one person job, Baby. We all need to help," Zoey said, following Jinu to the kitchen with her own empty plate.

"Especially with how much your fat ass eats..." Abby mumbled.

"I'm not fat! What part about me is fat?!" Baby shouted, gesturing to himself.

"If you two start fighting again then I'm grabbing the Get Along Shirt!" Rumi cut in.

Both boys glared at her and quickly shut up.

"Good. Now go get dressed."

•°••°••°••°••°••°•

"UGHHHHH! My feet hurt!"

They had only been out for an hour and Baby was already whining.

"I told you not to wear your converse," Jinu said with a sigh. "They're half a size too small."

"But they match my hoodie," he whined again.

"You do realize you're not an actual toddler, right?" Mira said condescendingly, heaving a heavy bag of groceries. "You don't have to act like one all the time."

Baby stopped whining immediately, turning to the redhead with a growl and a sneer. "And you realize that you don't have to be a bi-"

Zoey shoved a lollipop into his mouth before he could finish. "Baby, shut up."

"My feet are starting to hurt, though," Mira said to Rumi. "Could we stop-" Before she could finish, Abby picked her up and carried her on his back like it was second nature.

Rumi just smiled at the girl's shocked face. "How's the view?"

"Rumi, make him put me down. Now."

"You can just ask me yourself," Abby said, rolling his eyes.

"Rumi. Make. Him. Put. Me. Down. NOW."

"Abby, can you please set Mira down?" Rumi asked sweetly.

Abby mumbled something about "being nice" and set her back on her feet. "There. Happy?"

Mira reached up and smacked the back on his head as hard as she could. "Now I am."

"Oh, you bi-"

"Abby, shut up." Zoey shoved a lollipop in his mouth as well.

"There's a lot of people out today..." Mystery said softly. He never liked being around a lot of people. Rumi always thought it was odd, but there is a big difference in being around a lot of people and being on a stage where you can keep your distance from the fans.

"Yeah," Jinu said with a chuckle. "Kind of reminds me when we debuted." As soon as he said that, everyone seemed to stop. It couldn't be happening again, could it?

Rumi shared a look with the girls, then snapped her head in the direction of the faint music. She ran over to the crowd that gathered, music getting louder as she ran into the middle of it. She heard their footsteps pounding behind her, quickly drowned out as techno music filled the air.

"Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars The love you give me Is beyond these stars"

"Gwi-Ma is seriously trying this again?"

"You'd think after your guys' big failure, he'd give up."

Zoey pulled a lollipop out of her tote bag. "Mira-"

"No, I want the cherry one."

Zoey shoved the grape flavored lollipop into her mouth. "You can't make demands when you're being mean."

Mira just glared and kept watching the performance.

Four women sang and danced around in blue galaxy themed dresses. One of them was very over the top. Puff sleeves, faux lace bodice, with a huge skirt that puffed out from a petticoat. Rumi guessed that she was the maknae, due to the cutesy look. Her hair was held up in large space buns, charms dangling off and clinking with every movement.

Another one dressed more plain. A sleeveless turtleneck dress, with a solid deep blue to galaxy gradient, her arms covered in charm bracelets and golden bangles. Her hair was put into a crown braid that ended at the base of her hairline, with the rest of her hair dangling in a ponytail that ended on the small of her back. There was a good chance she was the leader.

The third was their center, dressed in a more tough looking outfit. An oversized t-shirt with a nebula on it and riddled with holes, exposing a black tank top underneath. Low rise dark denim jeans, with a painted galaxy starting below the knees. Her hair was in an emo cut, to put it bluntly. Blue pixie cut hair with large bangs that covered her right eye (or left, from Rumi's perspective).

The last had a similar vibe to the leader. She had a cropped halter top, with a high waisted skirt that looked like the night sky. Her hair was wrapped up in a small braid, falling just between her shoulders. Judging by the way she expertly hit every move, she was the choreographer.

"You know, Rumi," Jinu said softly. "Just because a new group is debuting the same way we did, doesn't necessarily mean they're demons."

Almost as if on cue, the light hit their arms just right and their patterns glittered for the small group.

"....ok, so they're demons..."

"Do we seriously have to deal with this again?" Zoey said, her face clouded with sadness. "I thought we just had to deal with normal demons now!"

"Shh!" Rumi slammed her hand over Zoey's mouth. "Don't let everyone know!"

"Hm-hm hm hm?" Zoey asked behind her hand.

"No. No Zoey shut up." Rumi turned her attention back to the demons before them as they moved into the chorus.

"Darling, you must be, From the heavens above! Come on, baby, hit me With that galactic love!

Let me take your halo, And fill you up with sin! You can be my fallen Angel, Let me taste your skin!"

"Let me taste your skin?" Rumi repeated, looking weirded out from the line.

"Even Rome can write better lines than that..." Mystery said quietly, his voice almost entirely drowned out by the techno.

Zoey gasped and looked over at Rumi, shocked. "Are they cannibal demons? Can demons be cannibals?"

"Well, they'd have to eat other demons to be cannibals," Mira commented.

"Hey, you have a lollipop! Lollipop means shut up!" Zoey said, motioning for her to put the lollipop back in her mouth.

"I mean, it's still a pretty good song..." Jinu said, bobbing his head side to side to the beat.

The other seven turned to him, and Zoey just silently handed him a lollipop.

Jinu sighed and took the strawberry shortcake flavored lollipop. "Jinu, shut up," he said before starting to suck on the lollipop.

Rumi bit her lip, trying not to dance along to the intoxicating rhythm like the rest of the crowd while their center started to rap.

"When the stars align Oh, it just feels so right. I need you in my arms Under the moonlight.

You look so fine Like a supernova! I can't control myself You got me blowin' over!

Without you, I feel empty Like the vacuum of space But I know your worship Can never be replaced

Give me your soul Give me your heart Baby, with my love We'll never be apart"

"She's a pretty good rapper," Baby commented, his head bobbing to the rhythm.

"Baby-! Oh, you're done with your lollipop," Zoey said, not realizing she had become a slave to the rhythm as well as the group went into the final chorus, going all out with the choreo.

"Darling, you must be, From the heavens above! Come on, baby, hit me With that galactic love!

Let me take your halo, And fill you up with sin! You can be my fallen Angel, Let me taste your skin!

Hit me with that galactic love! There's nothing I need more of!"

The demons stopped, smiling gently as the crowd clapped and cheered for them. The leader stepped forward, looking so humble and kind.

"Thank you, thank you! You all are sooooo kind!" She said with a bright smile. "We hope you all tune in tonight to see us on Weekly Idol! Until then-" She paused, slamming her high heel into the pavement in unison with the other three. They all posed their left hands into a reverse L and pressed them against their foreheads.

"LUNA-R is LUNA-OUT!" They said in unison, shooting their hands up before disappearing into a cloud of cosmic smoke and dust.

The crowd began to disperse, and the group of eight begrudgingly continued on their shopping trip.

"I serrrrrriouslyyyyyy thought we were over with thissssss!"

"I know, Zoey," Rumi sighed, holding the groceries closer. "Let's just finish getting food and we'll make a battle plan back at home."

The group continued in silence for only a few moments.

"Oh, so I act like a whiny little bitch and it's the end of the world," Baby began. "But Zoey starts whining and everything is fine?!"

"UGHHHHHH! Zoey, make him shut up," Mira groaned.

"I gave Jinu the last one..." She said sadly. "I put them on the grocery list..."

"Hey, I want an answer!" He demanded, getting in front of Mira.

"Baby, your mere existence doesn't even dignify an answer."

"Oh, so you're on the bitch train today!"

"You did not just call me a bitch!"

"Yes I did!"

Rumi screamed in frustration, ready to pull her hair out. "That's it! You're both going in the Get Along Shirt when we get back!" She stormed ahead of the group, ignoring Mira and Baby's pleading to do "anything but the Get Along Shirt."

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anewspringday · 1 day ago

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Marked at Midnight

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Title: “Marked at Midnight"

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (Y/N), with Ateez x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slow Burn, Demon AU, Jealousy

Three girls head out for a carefree night at a mysterious city club, only to get trapped in a supernatural realm where time doesn’t move and human rules no longer apply. After drinking enchanted liquor, they learn from the enigmatic manager, Hongjoong, that the only way to escape is to be led out by a mortal — a task easier said than done in a club full of dangerously beautiful demons. As the girls try to navigate their new reality, Y/N becomes entangled in a seductive game with mysterious men - the most dangerous being the nightclub's manager and keeper of the veil.

The city was dark, cloaked in the washed-out blue of a few flickering neon lights — the kind that stayed lit even after 3 a.m., buzzing faintly in protest against the silence. Y/N stood at the window she had made her own these past few weeks… or had it been months? Time was difficult here. Slippery. She gazed down wistfully, eyes tracing the few lone figures still wandering the streets below. What were they chasing? What kept them moving through the quiet? And when morning came, what would they wake up to?

“Waiting for someone?” came a voice behind her — smooth, velvet-wrapped steel.

Once, that voice had chilled her blood. Now, it only made her stomach turn with dull disappointment.

“When did you stop being afraid of me, pet?” he mused, stepping closer. “When did you start thinking it was okay to ignore me?”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even turn. But her chin lifted with quiet defiance.

“What do you need?” she asked flatly.

He exhaled — not a sigh, exactly, but something colder. Sadder. He moved closer, his presence like a shadow thickening in the corners of the room.

“The sun will be up soon,” he murmured, extending a hand — pale as frost, elegant as bone. “Care to share one last dance before the day comes?”

A few weeks ago, Y/N had been ready for a night out — a real one. The kind that made your cheeks hurt from laughing and your legs ache from dancing. It had been ages since she’d let her hair down, let alone willingly agreed to anything club-adjacent. But when Sienna suggested it, something in the air — a pressure, a pull — made it impossible to say no.

“I’m telling you, this place is supposed to be crawling with hot guys,” Sienna grinned. “Apparently it’s the spot. Everyone we know has gone at least once.”

“Do you think we’ll even get in?” Iris asked, wide-eyed.

Y/N shrugged, already sipping wine from a chipped glass. “If we don’t, we’ll just end up eating pizza on the curb like last time.”

Getting ready was the best part — trying on five different outfits, wrestling over mirror space, and attempting eyeliner with plenty of q-tips on hand. There was makeup everywhere, nonstop laughter, and the occasional scream when someone nearly spilled their drink.

“Ooh, Y/N, you’re already getting red,” Sienna teased, poking her chest.

“No one will notice in the dark,” Y/N said.

“I just hope we can get in,” Iris muttered.

“We will,” Sienna said confidently, adjusting her cleavage with comedic flourish.

The club was hidden — wedged between more obvious destinations, marked only by a narrow elevator guarded by a velvet rope and a very bored bouncer. The line was already wrapping around the building.

“Come on, it’ll move fast,” Sienna insisted, dragging the others behind her. They queued up behind a group of cute guys in leather jackets and artfully tousled hair. Sienna wasted no time striking up a conversation, and Y/N happily played along while Iris hung back.

“There’s three of us, three of you,” Sienna said cheekily, dragging a long painted fingernail across one of the guys jackets. She turned to her friends knowing full well the boys could hear and added, “And the rumors were true — this place does attract cute guys.”

The elevator finally opened, revealing a sleek, glowing corridor that pulsed with low bass and lavender light. The girls quickly jumped out of the elevator after giving the boys a half-hearted promise to find them later.

“Let’s get a drink!” Sienna said, practically vibrating with energy.

“But only one!” Y/N warned, holding up a finger.

“Why?” Iris asked.

“Because,” Y/N grinned, sweeping her arm toward the sea of attractive strangers, “let’s get them to pay for the rest of the night.”

The crowd was packed with well-dressed men — sharp jawlines, expensive cologne, the kind who looked like they actually had jobs and weren’t shy about buying drinks for a pretty girl. Suits and watches, crisp fades and confident smiles; it felt like walking into a real-life dating app.

Overhead, crystal lights glittered as the girls made their way to the bar. After ordering cocktails, they slipped into the crowd, weaving toward the dance floor where bodies moved in time with the beat, shimmering with sweat and euphoria.

Y/N barely registered the bump until she looked up — into the face of a man who looked carved from marble. Slender, sharp-jawed, pale as starlight, his eyes dark as obsidian. The club lights rolled over his skin like water. People seemed to instinctively avoid him — a current of space parting the crowd around him.

Their gazes locked. Cold. Still.

And then he was gone.

The chill he left behind lingered on her skin like a fading shadow, but Y/N quickly pushed it aside, the buzz of the music pulling her in. She stepped onto the dance floor with a sudden rush of euphoria, the pounding beat syncing with her heartbeat. Her hips moved instinctively, fluid and unrestrained, as the warm bodies pressed around her, a comforting tide of heat and motion. The cold edge of the stranger’s presence dulled, replaced by the electric thrill of the crowd, the freedom to lose herself in the rhythm.

From across the floor, Sienna spotted a group of striking men seated in a booth just beyond the crowd. Immaculate suits, slick dark hair, eyes that didn’t blink enough. One of them lifted a hand and gestured them over with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“What do you think?” Sienna asked. “They’ve been watching us for a while.”

The girls glanced down at their nearly empty glasses.

“Let’s go,” Y/N said. The girls clasped hands and made their way slowly across the room.

As they approached, one of the men stood to greet them—a tall figure with warm, inviting eyes and a gentle smile. “I’m Yunho,” he said smoothly, reaching out to take their glasses with a practiced grace. “Let me get these out of your hands.”

Another man poured drinks from a gleaming silver ice bucket filled with sleek bottles and frosted glasses. “I’m Yeosang,” he introduced himself, holding out a deep red cocktail. “This is a specialty—pomegranate liquor. You should try it.”

The third man, leaning casually against the booth with a playful smirk, said, “And I’m San. Don’t worry, it’s not as dangerous as it sounds.” His easy charm put them all at ease.

Y/N glanced at the unfamiliar deep red drink in Yeosang’s hand, hesitation flickering across her face. But seeing the men casually sip from their own glasses—and watching Sienna and Iris accept their drinks without a second thought—she shrugged and took a glass. The first taste was tart and rich, with a subtle warmth curling like spice on her tongue.

“It’s good,” Y/N admitted with a smile, feeling the smooth blend slide effortlessly into the rhythm of the night.

The group chatted easily, exchanging laughs and stories, the men asking about their favorite music and passions. The atmosphere was warm and light, and soon, the men extended their hands, inviting the girls onto the dance floor.

San, the most magnetic of them all, took Y/N’s hand and spun her into the beat like he’d known her forever. The music pulsed around them, bodies moving together as if they were the only ones in the room.

But as the night wore on and the music slowed, the men exchanged glances and excused themselves. “Work early,” one said vaguely, the sparkle in their eyes dimming just slightly as they stood to leave.

“Well, that was fun,” Sienna said, catching her breath, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Wow,” Iris added with a wistful smile, “I kinda wish Yeosang had asked for my number.”

Sienna waved off the thought with a grin. “Trust me, it’s better this way. It can stay a perfect night — just fun, no baggage.”

The girls laughed softly, savoring the moment as they moved toward the exit. But when they searched for the way out, the fun abruptly turned to confusion.

“I—where’s the door?” Iris asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

They circled the room, but all they saw were endless mirrors, black walls, and the relentless pulse of colored lights. The night suddenly felt heavy.

A chill crept up Y/N’s spine as a voice sliced through the darkness.

“Can I help you?”

She turned slowly, heart pounding.

There he stood.

A man with skin as pale as moonlight, strikingly handsome in an otherworldly way. His dark eyes held a calm intensity, the kind that made the air thicken. His presence was impossible to ignore.

“I’m Hongjoong,” he said smoothly, his voice low but clear, “the manager here.”

Sienna giggled nervously, masking the tremor in her voice. “We can’t find the exit.”

His smile sharpened — not quite warm, but mesmerizingly precise.

“You drank the liquor, didn’t you?”

“The what?” Y/N’s throat tightened, her pulse quickening.

“The pomegranate,” he sighed softly, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I didn’t expect them to get three in one night. They’re usually more subtle.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

Hongjoong’s smile widened, slow and smooth, sharp as a blade. “If you drank their liquor, you’re marked. The door is there.” He gestured toward what looked like a solid concrete wall. “But it won’t open for you anymore.”

Y/N stared at the wall, breath shallow, disbelief settling in, “I-I don’t see a door.”

“But of course not, you wouldn’t be able to. You’re one of us now,” he said simply, as if revealing a mundane fact about the weather.

The lights dimmed just a little more, and the weight of his words settled over them like a shadow. They were trapped.

#hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #au Ateez #demon ateez

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crazy-ache · 9 months ago

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Chapter 17 Update

Summary: One moment. All it takes is one singular moment to change the trajectory of fate. Following the events of Hybern, everything changes when Lucien instinctively grabs his mate—Elain Archeron—and brings her back to the Spring Court with Feyre and Tamlin.

In the midst of war and ruin, Elain and Lucien will have to face the bond that connects them together if they hope to survive the unintended consequences. To do so, they’ll have to prevail through games of deceit, powerful forces of magic, and deadly enemies. And hope their hearts survive the journey.

A retelling of A Court of Wings and Ruin (ACOWAR) and a Canon Divergent AU.

Notes: Chapter 17 Update - Sink or Swim (Elain's POV).

Start on AO3 | Read Chapter 17

Vassa was everything Elain was decidedly not—even when she had been human. Stunning with her eyes of ocean glass and fire-colored hair. She held that head up with such allure that could only be possessed by a royal. Yet, she reminded Elain so much of her sisters. Feyre’s brazen tongue and Nesta’s sharp edges. Thoughts crept into the back of her mind. The kind of thoughts that wondered if Lucien preferred someone with equal fire to the one he wielded in magic and charm.

Tag List: @zenkindoflove, @bonecarversbestie, @little-fierling, @yaralulu, @slipmerfoot, @areyoudreaminof, @comeonladiesitstime2yearn, @ataraxiasflame, @teddyhoneybear, @the-darkestminds, @goghwilde, @positivelyruined, @sad-scarred-sassy, @works-of-heart, @sonics-atelier, @mr-agent-mulder, @shadowqueenjude, @christeareads, @emmers-bens123, @olenvasynyt, @what-about-elvenis

#elucien #pro elucien #Lucien vanserra #elain and lucien #elain acheron #elucien fanfiction #elucien fanfic #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron #ACOWAR #ACOWAR fanfic #ACOTAR fanfic #vassa #ok im BACK on this i was a bit distracted by my other fic #this is where i share the burn will finally burn soon

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screampied · 6 months ago

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PUFF, PUFF, ASS! s. ryōmen

ৎ୭ sum. puff puff pass, girl — not puff puff ass! you wanted to smoke one last sesh before winter break but sukuna smokes something far sweeter instead - you.

wc. 8.4k

warnings. fem! reader, plug! roommate sukuna, college au, both are in early 20s, unprotected, substance consumption, slooowish burn, virgin! sukuna, switch reader, quickies, pining, sukuna’s a loser fratboy with no game, p whipped sukuna, creampīes, edging, cowgirl, big dick kuna, he lasts 0.5 secs, blōwjobs, dry humping, shotgunning, spīt, dirty talk (he tried), use of "good boy", praise.

“the usual, ‘kuna.”

ah, those three pretty words.

your roommate and all-time favorite plug, sukuna never got tired of hearing it. of course though, not in a million years would he admit the fact—let alone admit that you juuust might be his favorite clientele.

sukuna was the plug.

most of the other students on campus, including you would always buy from him. he was known for selling the best of the fuckin’ best.

despite you having the luxury of sharing a whole dorm with him, he never gave out free handouts, no half off deals, nothing. “what do you mean you won’t be here until january?”

oh shit.

he didn’t like how clingy he sounded.

not one bit.

sukuna mentally grumbles, burying his hands in the pockets of his gray sweats before you respond. “oh, yeah. for break, i’m going on a skiing trip,” and as you’re rambling, his eyes avert toward your lips.

glossed - they brightly shimmered in the flickering dorm room light, and he struggled to focus on what you were even saying.

you spoke every word so sweetly. sukuna even studied the corners of your lips and they’d cutely crease within each syllable—with your brows slightly furrowing at every passing second. “uh- are you even listening, sukuna?”

“yeaah yeah. stupid skiing trip, nice.” he shrugs, feeling a weird feeling bubble up inside him.

with you being gone for two weeks - he’d have no one to annoy, no one to get high with, no one to-

“don’t be a baby. i’m not leaving until in like-” you pause, pulling up your wrist and squinting at your wristwatch. “two hours. in the meantime, we can just have one last sesh together if you want.”

yes, yes, yes!

“fine, whatever.”

it was just an ordinary sunday.

usually, sukuna would be out at some frat party. every year during the winter, there’s this annual gathering before the break where all the years are invited.

you went once during your sophomore year in college with a few friends, and to be honest - it was pretty shitty.

loud crappy music, stale refreshments, the whole college experience shebang.

you stopped attending a while ago, and you probably didn’t really miss much though.

besides if anything—you’d much rather prefer getting high than going to some overrated end-of-the-year party.

“mmh- thanks,” you sigh, desperately needing something to take the edge off.

with finals finally being over, getting blitzed was just what you needed. the two of you sat on the lower spacey bunk bed, and your eyes stared at sukuna’s fingers. he was so focused, claret pupils entirely fixated at the pre-rolled blunt in his hand.

with a near pout, you shrug your shoulders before finishing your sentence, “—and by the way ‘kuna, i can roll one y’know.”

“yeah riiight. last one you rolled was like a kazoo,” he gruffs, snatching a fresh hollowed blunt wrap from his pocket.

from your recent purchases, sukuna always knew your favorite flavor . . cherry rush.

he snickered at the cute ‘lil frown that would soon stretch across your lips, but you knew that was true. sukuna placed the pre-rolled blunt back in his pocket before turning back toward you.

you struggled a bit at the rolling part, but in your mind - you were a pro at taking hits.

“i’ll teach you one day how to master the art of rolling like me. it’ll cost ya extra though, roomie.” sukuna continues, making sure the materials perfectly stuffed inside. he already did the basics.

preparing the flower, chopping down the bud, breaking everything down, and a bunch of other steps. .

it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours..

sukuna had to mash up the substance a bit, churning it with a tiny metal tool before then using the grinder to flatten everything up inside the wrap.

making sure it’s not too bulky, he then starts sprinkling a bit of the green substance inside the center and all around the other parts of the blunt evenly.

he’s neat and precise, making sure it’s enough for two instead of the usual one.

and finally, sukuna’s rolling it..

“watch me,” he hoarsely instructs, and your hands are placed in your lap. his fingers slither toward one end, carefully tucking a piece of the wrap around the substance. stubby thumbs of his that were melting with a bit of stickiness rolled around the sides. he’s shaping it, molding it into its right size so it’s nice and even. “the shapin’ is always important,” and you could already feel yourself starting to get bored.

just shut up and roll it.

is what your intrusive thoughts were trying to get you to blurt out, but you stayed quiet. as you’re still observing, sukuna slightly sticks out his tongue and starts to lick near the dry cracks.

oh.

you couldn’t lie—whenever you saw sukuna licking at certain parts of blunts whenever you two smoked together, it did something to you.

always, dirty thoughts would plague at the very front of your mind, wondering what else he could do with his tongue.

speaking of, sukuna’s tongue’s super duper long too. you could feel your breath hitching the more you watched, silently admiring how his lashes briefly closed each time he blinked.

you wondered if he could lick-

“ahem.” sukuna rolls his eyes, and he wasn’t even licking it anymore. he’s been stopped.

and now, he’s openly staring dead at you, a pink slit brow raised to further express his annoyance.

“sorry, what?” you reply, feeling a hot wave of embarrassment shiver down your entire spine.

oh girl, you’re so fucked.

he definitely saw you staring.

with a disappointed sigh, sukuna gives the chubby rolled blunt a soft pierce with two of his thumbs. “i said, why do you think i’m licking the blunt? tell me why that step of rolling is important.”

“um-” you pause, your mind not at all thinking about the smoke sesh anymore.

all you were thinking about sukuna’s long pink tongue.

you were squeezing your thighs shut the entire time. your knees were folded, digging into the squishy bed frame before you tried to gather up a good answer.

“you lick the sides to…uh-” you stammer, mind blacking out straight away. “…to get a quick taste before it burns?”

“tch. sometimes i wonder why i even get high with you,” sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. as he spoke in that same, husky tone—you could hear a bit of laughter trying to suppress from the back of his throat. “no, girl. i’m licking along the dry areas to help moisten it.”

“oh..” you blink, your mind all in the gutter.

the blunt’s earthy scent starts to fill up the dorm within no time.

it’s that same, strong cherry smell that’s always been your favorite. it’s wholly sweet, and the aroma was just so candied in the air that you could almost taste the tartness already on your tongue.

its smell was quite loud - hence why it was always your preferred choice out of his other flavors.

the scent was sweet but the taste was far sweeter, and the wrap never failed to leave you unsatisfied.

“oh,” sukuna mocks your single response, crimson eyes subtly flickering back into a roll once more. for a moment, you could feel sukuna’s gaze shortly taking in your appearance.

like usual, you wore some nameless brand university t-shirt with shorts on.

maybe you’re batshit crazy, horny- hell, maybe even both, but you could’ve sworn sukuna was gawking at your thighs.

your legs—they were neatly folded back as you sat on your knees. a bit of skin poking from your shorts had slight rips in them and he noticed it straight away.

the cute squish of your thighs coming together every few times you sat upright - so so pretty..

“anyways,” he clears his scratchy, itched throat, burying the image of your thighs away in the back of his mind. you were so close to him that he could practically smell the scent of your shampoo. “ah- you remember how to light, right?”

“mhm.” you gave him a nod, leaning in closer.

the fat blunt remained glued against his fingertips that pressed deeply into the sides. you reached near your nightstand to pull out a lighter, bringing it toward his lips.

sukuna’s viewing you closely, and you felt your weak pulse starting to quicken within seconds.

even though it’s just a small, tiny gesture, sukuna tilts his head down further toward you to reach your level.

sexily, you’re met with his red, darkened stare. pink, overlong bangs were already starting to run down his brows, nearly occluding his vision of you before he swipes his hair away from his face with a hand.

with a clicking, ‘flick!’ the flame brightly ignites, and you start to carefully glide the lighter back ‘n forth under the seam.

then, you start to go around the rest of the blunt, making sure all the parts get lit. sukuna watches as you bring the flame toward the very end of the stick. the smell’s getting even stronger, and sukuna’s stare at your decent lightning work gets him intrigued.

there was a sharp silence, and the only things that could have been heard were outside the dormitory. continuous chatter of other roommates and some pop songs playing in the ambience.

once you two start to actually smoke — you’re both taking turns, sat next to each other and allowing the euphoric high to slowly take over.

puff, puff, pass..

it was simple.

the two of you each got two tokes. since sukuna rolled, it was etiquette that he took the first few hits - then you.

“ugh,” you land on your back against the springy bed, drawing in a sharp breath. your lungs were heavy, and your chest slumped once you started to absorb the lemony puffs of air.

each sucked breath was deep, and every few seconds, you allowed yourself to recuperate from the strong hits.

“been a while,” sukuna speaks again, his voice dripping with a rasp. his throat - it sounds almost grating.

he lies his head back against the bed with you too, slightly craning his head to face you. “gettin’ high with you, i mean.”

passing the blunt back to him, you sleazily grin. “don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.”

“tch. don’t be stupid, never said that,” he instantly replies, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.

you talked so sly, and he noticed how your eyes were starting to droop already. sukuna’s jagged breathing hitched once your head softly thumped against his shoulder.

damn.

“it’s just annoying,” he continues, taking a second to inhale through his nose. a cloud of smoke exits through his nostrils and it’s always satisfying to witness.

your head rubs against the fleece of his sweatshirt before he lets out another dull inhale. once that short milisecond of tunnel vision occurs in his sight, sukuna exhales again—his shoulders slackening.

“ ‘m not gonna have anyone to smoke with for two weeks. and yeah, i could get high by myself but it’s… better with you.”

oh?

you glance up at sukuna’s whose eyes are glued to you. there were faint, noticeable bags underneath his eyes as his eyelids started to become heavy.

his entire face — it’s turning flustered once he realized what the actual fuck he just said.

shit. shit. shit.

“oh… my god,” you cheekily grin, grabbing the burning blunt from him. inhaling for two seconds, you place it between the arc of your fingers. “ ‘kuna, you could’ve just said so. well, if that was the case, i could’ve just canceled my flight and booked for tomorrow morning.”

“really?”

“uh- no, i was joking. do you know how much plane tickets cost? in this economy? please.”

sukuna rolls his eyes at your sass before grumbling. “whatever,” and he’s watching your hits turn into more than just two.

he raises a brow, staring at your pursed lips that were twitching every second as you blew out excess smoke. “oi- stop hoggin’ it. you always do this shit.”

“make me-”

he scoffs, narrowing puffy eyes at you before reaching over.

sukuna’s beefy arm extends to grab the blunt but coincidentally enough - he ends up falling flat on your chest.

you look down at him and there’s a loooong, eerie silence.

nothing was exchanged except intimate, prolonged glances and a subtle loud silence. sukuna gawked at you with fiery pupils occasionally flickering toward the rolled stick that was tightly gripped against your fingers.

he then looks at your lips… so shiny, you rubbed them against each other once you noticed his gaze before taking one more hit.

he stays quiet, watching you inhale before exhaling. “i didn’t know the blunt was on my ches-”

“shut up,” sukuna carps, cutting you off with a sharp tone. he leans in closer—and at that, you start to feel the speed of your heartbeat accelerate. sukuna brings a dry thumb toward your chin, gingerly smearing a circle around your skin before huskily murmuring. “fuck- can i . .”

“do it,” you breathlessly reply, already knowing what he was trying to say. the intense high was swarming you both mildly, and your senses were heightening from each elated breath being drawn.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

instantly, sukuna’s lips crash firmly against yours.

it’s so quick - you barely have time to react, moaning once his tongue dips inside of your mouth. swiftly, sukuna snatches the blunt away from your hand, making his way on top of you.

your arms wrapped around his torso—pulling him closer as you both shared rushed, airy breaths. the cherry flavor lingers in both mouths, tangling with glutinous, sappy saliva and all. “mmgh-” you start to recline back, your left leg slinking around his slim torso.

a throaty groan scratches out of sukuna’s tongue as you hear the occasional ‘claps’ of both lips smacking into each other. every few seconds, it’d pitch louder and louder, and sukuna just couldn’t help himself.

just from his hungry lips, you could tell he’s been wanting to do this for the longest.

he just didn’t want to admit it.

“god-” he grunts against your lips, the tip of his nose softly rubbing against your skin.

yet again, foreheads were stacked right on top of each other, and he felt remains of smoke waft back into his mouth. you tasted so sweet, sweeter than anything he’s ever smoked by a long shot.

“mmh- sukuna,” you moaned, feeling his body in between your wrapped legs starting to grind into you.

it’s slow - his sweats were so soft, nearly tickling against your thighs before it then rubs against something very hard.

that ‘something’ was prodding through his grey pants and he prowls lowly into your neck, sucking against your freely exposed skin. “if.. you wanted to hump me all this time, should’ve just said so.”

“ugh-” he glares, the pink shade gradually painting over his vexed expression clearly betraying his annoyance.

sukuna was a big guy, and the size difference was very much apparent.

his body..

it towers over you, even with you being nearly smushed underneath him. his hips pathetically rolled into you steadily, and he grunts again but this time it’s huskier..

as your legs continued to cage him in with its secure grasp, you feel him stop. “fuck!” his head falls into your chest, and you could see a pout shortly tugging against his lips.

your brows twist into a furrow as you feel his body still itself. sukuna’s hardened bulge still rests between the front of shorts — but it’s . . wet.

heavy, deep pants could be heard from him and then that’s when you started to feel a damp splotch soak near the center of his sweatpants. as you’re still trying to catch your breath, you let off a sheepish, “heh.. ‘kuna.. did you just-”

“yeah, i fuckin’… came,” sukuna grumbles, slit brows contorting as he spoke with such distaste.

his pointed chin rests between the soft valley of your chest before he pinches his forehead. “look- i’m a virgin. i’ve never-”

with a soft-hazed expression, you pat his head. “it’s okay. it happens dummy. don’t uh- feel bad about that,” and his embarrassment leisurely subsides.

you obviously weren’t expecting him to say that.

you figured otherwise.

on campus, sukuna’s highly well-known and very popular. he’s usually seen around frat clubs and parties but wasn’t much social now that you thought about it.

he kept his circle small, and with you being his roommate he grew to get sort of used to your presence whenever the two of you smoked together . . sort of.

“just.. let me,” you quietly reply, shifting your body before getting on top of him. sukuna huffs faintly, placing the blunt near the nearby nightstand before staring at you.

now, you’re straddling him with your perked ass sitting directly above his abrupt cum stain that bled through his sweats. “is this okay? if you don’t feel comfortable we can just finish our sesh.”

“it’s fine,” sukuna swallows, admiring your body before him. even the shorts you wore were such a tease, maybe an ever bigger tease than you.

his eyes ran across the fabric, watching as it perfectly exposed just a nice amount of your ass.

he’s still so hard, and you sitting right on it was only making him ten times more needy. “i want- i want you, screw the damn blunt.”

“okay,” you coo out - your voice sounding like mere heaven.

as sukuna takes a gulp, the roused tent in his sweats pokes out further the more you shimmy your hips around him. closing the distance between you both—you place a wet kiss down the slope of his neck.

he shivers at your touch with one hand trying to reach toward your swaying waist. with a soft ‘whack!’ he scoffs, feeling you swat his hand away. “ah, no touchin’ ‘kuna. you want me to do all the work, remember?”

through gritted teeth, he snarls out a stubborn, “finee,” and he’s already feeling himself starting to melt through his sweats.

you being on top of him - straddling him, it made sukuna sweat bullets. “just- hurry up. ‘m so fuckin’ hard..”

“yeah, i can feel it,” you hush, fishing a hand near his sweatpants.

with a single hand, you yank on the knotted white tie and it quickly becomes loose.

sukuna’s whole physique…

you got a glimpse of his boxers that peeked above his waistline and fuck..

he was ripped, jacked in every way. the ideal fratboy.

the sharpened line of his pelvis looked like it could prick the tip of your finger. “mmh,” you hold in a breath, swerving your hips against his bulged crotch. “are you always this hard whenever we smoke together?”

“haaah? don’t be . . ridiculous,” he pauses, his head tilting back. “fuck- yeah, like thaaat,” sukuna’s voice slows down, and it pitches so low that his mere voice made you throb.

the strip of his boxers was a darkened shade of red, complimenting his maroon eyes. “god- you’re bein’ a tease. just fuck me already, girl.”

as your hand reaches near his boxers, you feel his body shake - erupting violently like an active volcano.

it’s a cruel shudder, with multiple shivers running down his slouched spine as you continue to move on him. your hand was delaying the damn inevitable, taking its time before finally slipping inside his ruined boxers.

“let me touch you- c’mooon,” sukuna continued to speak, his gruff whiny babbles falling on deaf ears. you raise your chin, gifting the bottom of his chin with another kiss. silent ‘mwah’ after ‘mwah’ and it only makes him more frustrated.

as your dominant hand starts to get a good feeling—you wrap your palm around his now pulled-out shaft and he groans.

sukuna’s throat bobs instantly, and you could feel an excited vein prod down a side of his thick cock. “f.. fuck, keep touchin’ it. touch me.”

“you still wanna touch me?” you murmur hotly, his high, drooping eyes filled with cloudy mist returning your glance.

he’s so eager too.

sukuna responds with a nod, coral brows raising in anticipation. “mhm, fine. go ahead.”

with a rough hitch of his breath, sukuna’s callused textured palms finally attach their way toward your hips.

he’s gentle yet firm, rocking you back into place before he moans at the tepid skin-to-skin contact.

you look down at his exposed cock and it’s just so pretty..

sukuna’s shaft was covered with veins - veins, veins galore. your thumb plays with a bit of foreskin, watching it peel back to expose the head and he shuddered from your touch once more.

“mmh..” he sighs deeply, your tender touch nearly hypnotizing him. the top part of his cock’s glans bruised with brightened shades of pink and rosy, hot red.

sukuna’s ridge was tapered too, and you felt yourself sporadically throb once between your open thighs as your curious thumb glided over the long hooking curve.

to top it all off, it’s got a lean to it too.

sukuna’s dick was so big that it could barely hold itself up. you watched as it sort of drooped over.

a tiny, attractive detail that made you release an elated sigh. as sukuna still feels your hand tending to his shaft, he lets out a low grunt. “don’t . . hah- know why we never did this before.”

“because you’re a chicken.”

“tch. girl fuck you.”

“no, fuck you. and i’m going to, relax pretty boy.”

♡ ♡ ♡

you were definitely somethin’ to be reckoned with.

sloppy, chaste kisses created a vertical path down his bare chest. sukuna held up his sweatshirt with one hand as your lips glued against his rock-hard abs that were all on display. you kissed down, down, down..

his abs were just perfectly sculptured - akin to a greek god with how they were just so naturally carved into chiseled, muscular pecs.

the cool air continued to set against his skin as he kept his sweatshirt raised. as your bridge of kisses resumed—sukuna groaned, preparing to sigh once your lips trailed and trailed . . until they eventually stopped at his dick.

it stood tall - slightly tilting forward with how heavy was. squinting a bit, you stared at the tiny hairs of pink that scattered around his stuffed base.

“is this alright?” you mumble through glittery glossed lips, your words so soft it sound like a raspy whisper. his tip was still covered with wetted drips of pre, tearing away at the sides with various white globs.

“ffuuuck- yeah, just do whatever. use your mouth, whatever you’re supposed to do,” sukuna grunts, feeling his core stomach tightening.

the two of you were sitting on the bed with him lying fully down. sukuna’s pants were pulled off now and he’s feeling his dick twitch every time your warm breath fans against his tip.

“mhm, okay,” you reply, rolling out your dripping, wet tongue. sukuna’s eyes immediately lock against you, peering as your tongue hungrily swirls its way around his pulsating crown.

slurrrp after slurrrp, you’re licking up the runny droplets of pre that were racing down all sides.

sukuna shivers, mumbling out a faint ‘ohhh shit’ before drawing in a long breath. each time he did, it felt like his lungs were being pinched from the inside.

you took his breath away,

figuratively and literally.

after all the times he’s smoked, nothing could ever compare to the way your tongue made him feel.

“s.. shit,” sukuna groans. your hand’s wrapped around his dick, and it was a bit limp. it only took you a few seconds (which felt like hours) to lap up his pre-cum before sliding your salivating tongue toward his mushroomy tip.

it’s so colorful - flushed with a burning, bright pink near the very capped head.

you even give it a little kiss, moaning once translucent strands of his pre creates a sloppy concoction with your saliva.

so filthy..

the two words that ran through his mind as he watched your plump-shaped lips.

as you continued, sukuna’s hand found its way toward the top of your head, ogling as you then puckered your lips.

slowly, he stares as your mouth opens up a bit to where it’s agape. you make your way down with his tip brushing past the parched roof of your mouth. he gutturally moans, feeling the scaly-like texture greeting his cock before nodding.

“mmh- your throooat . . feels so fuckin’ good,” he tilts his head back, adam’s apple still bobbing through the center of his larynx.

with sukuna being so big, you couldn’t exactly fit all of it inside.

with your hand still gripped around his hefty-made shaft, your scrunched wet lips gradually made their way to where your fingers rested.

your head’s starting to bob bob bob, and sukuna’s grunting his head off. the slippery, risqué noises were just downright wet - you’re gripping his cock before he feels you angle it further down your throat for a better stretch.

“mmph-” you let off a muffled whine, making sure to wet around his entire cock.

sukuna’s thighs already felt so heavy - they glued down to the bed as your head went up and down, and he just couldn’t look away from you.

the two of you were always smoking together when you both could’ve been doing this instead?

that same question — it kept running through sukuna’s head like a loop.

your mouth.. it kept sukuna’s dick so warm, so wet..

it was just something about the way your head bobbed with those pretty lashes of yours sticking to your eyelids. even your lids were starting to sag, preparing to snap shut at any moment.

your raving rhythm had him getting dizzy within seconds, and sukuna gave your hair a light tug.

“ngh-” you grump, your head pulling forward and it’s almost cute.

sukuna pauses, sheepishly scratching his head. “shit, sorry.. was i-”

“harder, dummy,” you interrupt his apology, saliva dribbling down the center of your chin as your lips briefly departed from his sheen-covered cock. sukuna moans at the lewd sight of you and how you were slobbering all over his cock.

this was the type of image he’d probably fantasize about whenever you weren’t in the dorm and he was by himself. “yank it.”

“eh. f.. fuckin’ kinky girl- fine,” and sukuna manages to grab a good amount of your hair. giving it a nice solid yank like you wanted, your head jerks forward. “mmng-” his nostrils flare for the second time.

sukuna grunts, hearing the wet little ‘ptou’ sounds of you spitting on his tip and lapping it right up.

you’re sucking him off — making him bite his lip, and he starts fucking back against your face until there’s even more glossy drool pouring down your chin.

much to your surprise, sukuna starts to raise his hips into your mouth, hearing strangled moans leave from your throat time and time again. after a few sloppy thrusts of his rolling hips, you took a second to start kissing around his dick again.

torrid, wet kisses ghosted all around his dick and sukuna could already feel his body starting to levitate from your wet lips.

your head - it’s similar to a bobblehead with the way it goes up ‘n down, movements entirely unpredictable.

you use your hand to slovenly twist around his shaft as you suck harder, moaning hoarsely once his bruised tip slams its way against the back of your throat.

it greets your fleshly uvula, and you let off a sweet gargled sound that makes sukuna’s dick twitch.

the single vein that runs down his cock dances against your tongue and you hum, batting your lashes.

he could never deny at all at how pretty you looked.

your cheeks were all puffed - stuffed all because of his dick that’s plugging in and out of your mouth.

sukuna lets off husky grunt after grunt at the back of your tongue skimming over his dick’s top. you’re getting his entire dick wet, not caring at all at how rivulets of your spilling saliva streamed down your chin. not just your chin, but near the cracks of your mouth.

your lips were perfect - they were stretched all out, shaped into a wide circular ‘o’ as you continued to take him down your tight throat.

“hng-” you’d moan, snaking a hand between your legs. sukuna gasped, eyeing you closely as you brought a few fingers of your own toward your puffed, neglected cunt.

you’re soaked, all through your panties too. you reached inside of your shorts, past your underwear before giving your pussy a loving squeeze.

as your mouth’s still occupied, you swiped a thumb over your pulsating clit that’s sobbing for attention.

“f.. fuck, didn’t know you were this nasty, roomie,” sukuna mutters, almost in awe at how you were just playing with yourself while he’s inches deep down your throat.

the downright dirty, racy noises echoed through the thin, dry walls of the dorm — and you prayed no one would hear.

to be specific, you prayed no one would hear sukuna because he was just groaning his lungs out as if he was belting an F5 high note. his voice indeed sounded rough, but every now ‘n then you heard a few cute cracks from your tongue work.

your head still bounces up and down, etching the tip of your tongue down a lightning-shaped vein.

sukuna’s stretchy girth damn near pried your mouth open even more on its own. you’re making sure not to use teeth, moaning at the feeling of your own fingers maneuvering circles against your clit. “ugh- good girl.. good- fffuck,” sukuna praises, feeling his tip stimulate way back toward your uvula for probably the umpteenth time.

he’s in alllll the way, watching as you breathe through your nose. “hah- throat’s just.. perfect for me. thaaaat’s … it, suck it, roomie. suck my.. p- penis.”

oh.. he can always work on dirty talk later.

sukuna’s cock was still sensitive - so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his orgasm’s approaching yet again. it’s a toe-curling feeling that threatens his ego, and a whine slips out.

you’re just so unapologetically sloppy - making out with his tip, slurping up the sides that rained with glittery beads of your spit.

“ahh,” you pop out his dick from your mouth, running your tongue around his tender frenulum.

right there, that moment right there was all it took for sukuna to cum and you knew it too.

“f- fuck, oh fuuuck, ‘m fuckin’ cummin’,” sukuna bites down on his jaw, fingers still dug into your scalp. your head sinks back down as his plump head pounds into your throat before you remove your fingers from the inside of your shorts.

first the tight shortness of breath comes — then, comes the actual release.

sukuna’s shooting down your throat, sprinkling creamy drops of cum on your flatly laid tongue as you look at him with those pretty, fogged eyes.

he already took the initiative to pull his leaking shaft out of your mouth, softly starting to then spank his tip against your greedy tongue.

“mmh-” you hummed again, a purr caught in your throat. it’s raw - and voice sounded a bit raspy, which had of course aroused him even more. this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and as your tongue lays flat — you nod your head. “good, keep hittin’ your tip against my tongue, mhm.”

“tch..” sukuna kisses his teeth, complying with your sinful request.

your lashes prettily fluttered as he’s still spurting out milky strips onto your tongue. the taste was bittersweet, and judging by the pout on your lips once he removed his cock away from the flatness of your tongue, you only wanted more.

panting heavily, sukuna’s abs clench through his fraternity-made sweats. “what?”

“c’mere,” you breathe, every breath you take becoming more strained as air tries to fill into your lungs. sukuna leans his head down to where you were, and his eyes immediately land on the remnants of cum that dribble a bit near the corner of your lip. “lick it off me.”

“hah- you’re a . . nasty little roommate.” sukuna snickered, a hand gently wrapping around the back of your neck. he pulls you in, pressing his lips into yours at full speed.

both lips were like speeding cars — they rammed into each other, the turbo being both lips quickly slamming against ajar, opened mouths.

sukuna grunts, vehemently running his tongue around the side of your mouth that’s covered with a few pearly tears of his cum. the sourly sweet taste again, makes him moan in your mouth, feeling your teeth playfully nip near his bottom lip.

as foreheads forevermore pressed against each other, sukuna drags his tongue near your chin which is also covered with sleek wet slicks.

as sukuna blindly guides his lips back towards your mouth, the open-mouthed kiss lasts for a while, to say the least. he even started sucking on your tongue, savoring the treacly cherry poppin’ taste that scattered all over your tastebuds.

you were a new high sukuna didn’t mind smoking.

♡ ♡ ♡

sukuna was still struggling to breathe - every breath felt more and more raspy with each singular puff.

pink, puffed lips of his were all swollen from your filthy make-out sesh. also though, his dick - his tip specifically, felt like it was on fire.. and the veiny sides were already starting to dry up with pasty splotches of cum.

you had to admit, sukuna looked kinda cute like this..

submissively underneath you with a pout, dripped in sweat everywhere on his body, sinewy muscles tensing with his cock just aching for more..

sukuna’s pink hair was unkempt and ruffled, messed up, and a tiny bit matted.

his once cocky and arrogant ego thrown was straight out the window all because of your throat and the way your raucous hips made him cum through his sweatpants.

sukuna knows you, and he knew you’d never let him live that down for as long as you two were roommates.

“your hoodie,” you bring a thumb above your vaguely dripping chin, smearing it around your sheeny lips. sukuna’s still laid back, and you’re now hovering over his sensitive cream-covered tip. “can i wear it while i ride you?”

“pft. no, it’s a frat-”

“kuna.”

“ughh- fine. better not ruin it,” he grumbles with a glowering scowl, raising his arms.

you help him take off the piece of clothing before putting it over your head, pulling down your t-shit from underneath.

as you do so, sukuna watches intently, feeling yet another vein prod against the right side of his dick. it was just something about seeing you in his clothing, straddling him too.

you’re wearing his fleecy-made frat hoodie as if it was your own and fuck did you look good in it.

sukuna’s breath nearly choked him as he openly stared at you, noticing how it was a bit oversized and practically covered over a nice portion of your thighs. “lie back more.” you utter, a hand grabbing the shared blunt that still rested idly on the nightstand. you’d almost forgotten about it.

right away, sukuna leaned himself back against the lopsided cushioned pillows that squished behind him.

there was just enough room to where your head didn’t hit the bottom of the top bed stacked above.

your hand grabs his hefty curved cock, aligning it against your sopping entrance before pausing. “tell me if it’s too much,” you mumble, bringing the stout blunt toward your lips.

sukuna’s completely shirtless now - and it suddenly gets so quiet that you hear him gulp in anticipation.

“j- just fuck me already,” he prowls rashly, his words turning into an impatient hiss once his beefy arms wrap around your torso.

with an ‘oof,’ you end up landing flat into his chest.

sukuna’s poor creamy tip was crying - it was starting to sob from the very reddened tip with rivulets of precum.

the wait was antagonizing - you were antagonizing.

he just wanted to be inside you, to feel what it’s really, really like.

sukuna fantasized about this exact scenario in more ways than he could count. he was far too stubborn to ever admit that he was too shy to actually be intimate with someone.

but with you, it only felt right.

“let me take another hit first-” you giggle, seeing the glare forming on his face. “geez, okay, okay.”

sukuna kept his eyes on you as you placed the cherry-flavored blunt in between your teeth.

it’s still securely rolled and fat - and you felt one of his hands creeping toward your ass within no time.

you steal another bit anyway,

and with a single addicting puff, a gust of wind whirls its way into your lungs and down your passageway. “f- fuckk..” you sigh, one hand positioning his teary tip against your drooling, drooling slot.

a cloud of smoke emits from your mouth once you breathe out, and sukuna sucks in a raspy drag. “mmg- hurry the fuck up,” he clenched down on his jaw tightly, bottom lip thoughtlessly quivering.

he’s so sensitive—with endorphins crashing through his veins, they sent rocketing shockwaves all down his spine. your cunt was just dangerously slick, and he knew you were teasing just by the way you rubbed your pussy back ‘n forth against his poor cum-dripping cockhead.

“hah- fuckin’ . . put it in- ngh-”

“ask nicely.” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his thick throat.

oh.

sukuna would’ve probably been lying if he said that didn’t turn him on.

your wet cunt was gradually sliding itself against his cock that rested against his tummy.

a big hand then grips onto your bare right ass cheek before he growls under his breath.

“fuck me, or else.”

“no.”

“fuck me, or else…please.”

“still no. also, speak up.”

sukuna glares at your audacity, seeing a small simper preparing to crease against your lips before he sighs in defeat. you were probably even more stubborn than him..

his shoulders slump before he clicks his tongue, clearing his throat. “okaay, roomie. you win- fuck. please, ride me. i- i need it,” and for a moment there, its a bit of vulnerability in sukuna’s tone.

his baritone-pitched voice, it cracks and you could see his left eye twitching.

you’re killing his pride.

but part of that made him more aroused.

“i need . . you.” he concludes, shaky labored breaths leaving from his lips. sukuna groans, feeling you slide a hand down his hardened chest.

the tips of your padded fingers circle his pecs, outlining each vein that decorated his sculpted body.

sukuna was like a candle melting from just your blazing touch. his body was the wax and your fingertips were the flame. his hoodie that you wore only made the entire scene sexier too.

he allowed his crimson gaze to follow toward your chest. the three-letter logo of the fraternity he was in finely stitched against the fabric. it hugged your body flawlessly, and his eyes never left your frame, not even for a minute.

“good boy,” you hum, hearing him nearly choke at your praise.

good boy.

sukuna’s ears perked before he groans, hearing the long-awaited squelch of your pussy ‘slap’ down on him.

your warmth from the inside surprises him, and he whiiiiines out a sweet, elongated mewl of your name. “ugh- fuck,” sukuna hisses, feeling you sink yourself down.

it’s a tight fit at first with an even bigger stretch!

sukuna’s rounded tip alone could barely lodge its way inside, and you had to use both hands just to guide it in the right direction. with the blunt still buried underneath your teeth, you blow smoke in his face. “mmph- open your mouth,” you airily mumble.

taking in the sugary scent—sukuna moans, bringing his lips apart.

once you’re starting to move, it’s over -

with your head going closer toward his face, you take the rolled stick from your lips to blow more smoke… this time, into his mouth.

your hips started to wind up, and he was already bottomed out inside. “taste it,” you whisper, feeling sukuna’s questing tongue already trying to swash around the inside of your cheek.

smoke pours into the right sukuna’s mouth, traveling within both pairs of full lungs before he kisses you deeply.

you’re each sharing smoke between twisted tongues and it’s so filthy..

your warm breath continues to slide against his sukuna’s—feeling his tongue eagerly dip its way inside your mouth.

the sweetened taste of cherry lingers against your buds and his, and between sloppy kisses, you moan. “mhh- there we go, good. just hold my hips again.”

“f.. fuck,” sukuna clicks his tongue, drowsy eyes already rolling back in such immense pleasure.

your pussy had such power - power that even he couldn’t handle because he felt like the entire bed was about to snap into two.

your hips had sukuna hysterical, and he starts fanning himself too. “p- phew, shiiit..” he groans, pink brows curving into a desirous furrow.

you’re swerving, tightly gripping back against his cock like velcro as you started to cling onto the bed’s railing for better leverage. “damn- goddamn, fuuuck me then.”

the high surrounds you both and it’s just pure bliss..

it was like a trip you didn’t want to end, and sukuna felt like he was floating every time your ass wetly slammed back down onto his lap. you’re making his head spin in the best way possible, dozens of gears turning in his empty brain.

“haah- ‘kuna,” you’d moan, hot breath landing against his chin and tickling the tiny hairs that stick against his skin. you’re clenching down on him from the inside, hearing every sticky plap! of skin clash amongst each other.

sukuna was a bit awkward with his hands - they didn’t know where to go.

one moment, they’re glued to your hips and the next, they’re traveling down your thighs. his favorite part though, was your ass.

as you continued to move, sukuna couldn’t help but thumb a few clammy fingers toward the sides of your jouncing rear.

harshly - he gives it a needy squeeze before spanking it, hearing the cute gasping whines drag from your throat.

he’s getting the hang of it.

“c- careful,” you wheeze, watching as he’s taking a puff now. sukuna’s nude chest was already starting to gloss gloss gloss with gallons of sweat. sure—you’ve seen him at the gym but never this sweaty.

with your arms tossing over his tensed shoulders, your weeping cunt flops right against his cock with a few sloppy single thrusts, earning a loud grunt from him. “now ‘m really startin’ to think you’re in love with m-”

“just…shut up.” sukuna grumbles, silencing you with another deep kiss. it’s rough - and out of the many, many kisses you shared with him tonight, this felt more . . different.

sweet, pathetic whimpers elicited from you as your ass repeatedly whacked against his pelvis. sukuna’s lean cock sloppily digs its way through your cunt and you squealed at each vigorous curve.

riiiight thereeee-

he’s found the spot and he didn’t even know it.

your cute little shriek was all that told him though, because as his teeth were sharply striking against yours—he hit that same beloved g-spot again, and again, and again..

“o-ooh!” your back prettily arches like a cat, tangled colorless strands of saliva reluctantly pulling away from each pair of lips.

sukuna’s tip was vast and huge, it easily ran through the taut barrier of your entrance and you drool every time he kisses near your clit.

it’s just so tender..

your pupils were starting to enlarge with your eyes crossing. sukuna’s got the same eyes too from the overwhelming high… but his eyes were a bit bloodshot.

your hips were just so nasty, and he’s grunting every time your sopping pussy sucks him in before spitting him right back out, then in, then out again — a repeated loop of pure fuckin’ filth.

“mmn- ‘m gonna cum,” you whined, gasping once sukuna’s hands grabbed your waist. you both exchanged a look of utter blitzed lust, and sukuna darkly exhaled. your hips buckled in and out, in and out until your hips were just stuttering over him. “k- keep hittin’ me there, baby~ fuuck-”

baby.

sukuna felt his cheeks heat up - the small pet name making him wonder if the two of you were really more than just smoke buddies, more than just roommates..

“hng- me too,” sukuna rasps, feeling the sultry head of his cock burning up to such a smoldering degree.

he’s not just hot there—but all damn over.

you’re maintaining your rapid pace, moaning at the nerves pulsing through your body that steadily got provoked by sukuna’s deep, pivotal thrusts. “god- so fuckin’ perfect. ride me.. hah- ride it like you own it then, ugh-”

your continuous bouncing on sukuna’s lap even has his eyes rolling back too. it’s undeniably sexy, and you felt the sticky grip of his thumbs starting to lessen its hold against your rocky waist.

sukuna’s cock was starting to stiffen within seconds and your cunt was just so swollen, dribbling from every weeping orifice with syrupy amounts of juices.

it’s an all-around mess, and not before long, the smell of your own arousal mixes in with the feeling of your highly anticipated fervor..

the entire dorm was clouded - fogged, bathed in a mix of all scents. scents of pleasure, of cherry, and lots ‘n lots of sweat.

it was hard to see anything except for the two of you and the windows were just covered with steam.

your thighs practically glued to sukuna’s, and as his dick’s still pumping in and out of you, you let off a clamoring squall.

right then - that’s when it happens.

you cling onto him steadfastly, sensuously bucking your animalistic hips into him weakly as your body starts to slow. everything happens in almost slow motion - and if it was one thing for sure, your pussy had sukuna hypnotized.

sukuna’s angered cockhead swabs its way around your beloved g-spot about three more times before he groans too.

much louder than you, and he suppressed his nose (or at least tried to) by delicately biting into your shoulder. your skin’s softness had his tongue hungry, and he was lapping at your skin until it was turning wet all because of him..

the blunt ended up falling out of his mouth, landing on the wooden floor with a faint ‘thump!’

but sukuna could care less though-

he had far more important things to care about,

like how he was shooting literal blanks inside of you, painting your pretty clamping walls with his ivory-white color that hugged him oh-so tight.

sukuna’s gutturally groaning in your ear, moving his mouth away from your shoulder while leaning against your cheek.

you both came at the same time and it almost didn’t even feel real.

your teeth shatter as your hips finally stop moving, and sukuna falls back against the bed.

you’re whimpering loudly, creaming all down his cock as your body’s met with abrupt currents of rippling waves.

instead though—the only wave was your orgasm, crashing down down down..

“ugh-” he moans, lips quivering once more once he feels such wads spitting out of his tip.

it comes out so slowly, thin ropes of cum that leisurely bubble into pearly ribbons of stripes.

sukuna’s heart’s beating out of his chest - pound after pound so loud that he hears the melody through his ears like speakers.

as he’s still trying to get over his most recent finish—his first instinct was to wrap a burly arm around you.

you’re caught off guard by the sudden gesture, but you don’t complain.

he’s still snugly inside so deep, flooding your pussy with a feverishly hot batch of cum that even starts to ooze down between your legs.

you’re both breathing stiffly, sharing labored delayed pants before sukuna cups your chin. “what... are. we.”

“what?” you blink.

sukuna deadpans, a chastened pout compressing his lips before he brings a sloppy two-second kiss to your mouth.

you return it, quietly moaning at the stickiness currently slimed between your cracked-open thighs.

“i don’t.. know,” sukuna pants, bringing a palm near his forehead to wipe a sheet of perspiring sweat away. “this.. us- whatever.. this is,” he waves a hand around to exaggerate. “friends- er- smoke friends don’t just… casually cum in each other.”

“yeah, that’s true,” you jeer, leaning in while sukuna’s still buried swollen balls deep. inching close, you kiss his neck before sweetly whispering. “maybe we’re more then just friends and maybe you’re more than just my plug.”

sukuna scoffs. “hmph. well- you’re still payin’ by the way.”

with an eye roll, you reach near your burgundy-colored nightstand. with a loud ‘whiiir’ it opens, and you pull out a twenty dollar bill of what was the usual price of your purchases.

a bit overpriced but again, you didn’t have the energy to complain.

not when you were so stuffed - leaking with sukuna’s cum drizzling out of your cunt.

“here.” you hand him the crumpled-up dollar bill. sukuna takes it, and his entire face is just flushed.

for once — you see actual color in his usually stoic, emotionless face. who knew it was all because of you and your hips.

sukuna grunts something under his breath, watching as you slide your panties and shorts back on. scarlet eyes did a slow pan from up to down at your body, glancing at his hoodie that you still had on before you grabbed your suitcase underneath your desk.

“wha- you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i’m gonna miss my flight.” you reply, watching sukuna’s lips form into the nth pout of the night. two hours went by so quick, he forgot all about your dumb trip.

not to be dramatic (except sukuna probably was being dramatic) but two weeks without you felt like an eternity.

especially with how good you just made him feel, the replay of the entire scene that just occurred had his mouth shamelessly watering.

going toward the side of the bed where sukuna lay, you press one final wet kiss against his lips.

he grunts, leaning into your tender touch, gasping once your free hand gives his twitching cock a few ‘goodbye’ pumping strokes.

“mmg- don’t go.” you heard him grumble between your lips.

with a soft wet ‘smack’ — both lips hesitantly depart, and you whisper against his ear before leaving. “i’m keeping the hoodie by the way.”

#★vegasbaby.#sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #female reader

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kyri45 · 5 months ago

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youtube

And when the day kisses the night you know that, even after the dark, the light will shine on a new sunrise.

AT LONG LAST.

AT LONG.

LAST.

THE BITCHES. FINALLY. KISSED!!!!!!!

SHADOWPEACH IS OFFICIALLY CANON!!1!1!1 (in the au)

Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (PREV/ FIRST / NEXT )

Next part is coming on February 8th, 1PM ET

You can bet your ass they kept making out on the way to heaven.

More rambling and Horizontal and vertical versions of the kiss under the cut!

Well, what can I say. It's been a long journey, but the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU can finally be officially a "Shadowpeach-canon" AU ahah. Hopefully the slow-burn wasn't too painful. I put my heart on my sleeve when I say that I swore to myself that as soon as the two bitches completely, fully forgive each other, then, and only then, they could have their moment.

Then, something something-having your true form while doing an act/saying something means showing the honesty of what you are saying/doing-something something

I laughed my ass off so many times while drawing panel 7 bc like- Mac is just "omg this idiot is so stupid, he's my idiot, I love him so much"

lastly, finally, FINALLY, I don't have to hold back anymore! Prepare yourself, Im gonna go full blast with these bitches. If you thought whatever they were doing before was gay, BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU. this story might as well turn intp a FWP (plot? what plot? fluff without plot)

hehe mac in panel 17 is like "oh NO U DON'T! PUT YOUR MOUTH WHERE IT BELONGS

Maybe this is not as epic or as a boom as the spicynoodle kiss. But that's kind of the point. They are the doomned toxic yaoi who healed in the past 6 months. They have always been together kind of. A kiss is just one of the hundreds other actions and words they shared during all the other parts of the story. They loved each other well before this chapter. So a kiss is just a natural course of them re-discovering each other and their intimacy. They sleep together (literally sleeping together, not sex yet) they comfort each other at their lowest, they saw each other inner selfs, they call each other nicknames, they call each other beautiful. I mean this was less of a "Slow Burn" and more a "put it in the microwave cause it got cold so that it slowly get warm again, but the food was already cooked"

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

THUD!

“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”

The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.

“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?”

If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!

His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more.

This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.

He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.

You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions.

However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake.

You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?

You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”

The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”

“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”

“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”

“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”

You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”

He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.

You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”

Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.

He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”

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ka1rin · 6 months ago

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With Strings Attached

Isagi Yoichi x Reader , 2.4k words , genre: smut

You and Isagi have been best friends for years, but your relationship has always been more like a couple's— cuddling, teasing, and sharing intimate moments. One night, while you're both curled up together, the lines between friendship and something more blur, leading to an unexpected twist in your relationship.

Isagi Yoichi didn’t know when his feelings for you shifted, but he knew they were no longer simple.

You were his best friend—his anchor. From the moment you walked into his life, you’d been by his side through every win and loss, every dream and doubt. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.

He noticed it in the little things. The way his heartbeat sped up when your fingers brushed against his. The way his mind replayed your laugh like a favorite song. The way he leaned into your hugs, hoping you wouldn’t pull away too soon.

Isagi wasn’t blind to how you two looked to others. He heard the teasing from his teammates, the whispers when you’d show up at his games and run to him first, arms wide open. They’d laugh and call him lucky, and he’d grin, pretending it didn’t get to him. But it did. Not because he minded their jokes—but because he wished he had the courage to admit that maybe they were right.

The cuddling, the hand-holding, the cheek kisses—those weren’t things best friends typically did, were they? But you never seemed to question it, so he didn’t either.

Isagi Yoichi didn’t know how he ended up like this—your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as the two of you lounged on the couch. You were focused on the movie playing on the screen, while Isagi couldn’t concentrate on anything except how close you were.

Your scent—something soft and familiar—filled his senses, making his thoughts scatter. He tried to calm himself, but his heart was racing. Every small movement you made, every shift of your weight against him, sent a jolt through him.

This was normal, he told himself. Best friends could cuddle like this, right? Except, nothing about this felt normal to him. It felt far too intimate, too perfect.

Then, out of nowhere, you turned.

The sudden movement caught Isagi off guard as you shifted to face him. Your arms slipped around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He froze. Completely. His body stiffened as if his brain had short-circuited.

You didn’t seem to notice. Your head rested against his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck. “This is nice,” you murmured, your voice soft and content.

Isagi felt like he was malfunctioning. His face burned, his hands hovered awkwardly in the air as he debated where to place them. Should he hug you back? Should he say something? His thoughts were spiraling, and he was acutely aware of how close your lips were to his cheek.

“Y-Yeah,” he managed to stutter, his voice embarrassingly shaky. He finally let his hands settle lightly on your back, but his muscles were still tense.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your face mere inches from his. “Are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head in concern.

“Y-Yeah! Totally fine!” he blurted, his blush intensifying. He was lying through his teeth. His heart felt like it was about to explode, and he was certain you could hear it.

You blinked at him, studying his face for a moment, before a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re blushing, Yoichi.”

“I—I’m not!” he protested, turning his face away, though he knew it was futile.

You chuckled softly, the sound sending butterflies through his chest. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Isagi thought he might actually die right there on the couch. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would give out. You, however, didn’t seem to realize the chaos you were causing inside him.

You leaned back into his chest, settling comfortably in his arms again, as if nothing had happened. Isagi let out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself.

Best friends, he reminded himself. Best friends.

But as he held you, feeling your warmth against him, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could keep pretending that was all you were.

Isagi was absolutely losing it.

You had just turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace that felt way too intimate for his already scattered thoughts. As if that wasn’t enough, you pressed yourself closer, resting your head against his chest. That small, innocent gesture sent his heart racing so fast it felt like it might break out of his chest.

And then… it happened.

He felt it—down there, shit he got hard. Heat rushed through his body, and he froze in sheer panic as he realized what was happening. The weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your body pressed so snugly against his—it was too much for him to handle.

Oh shit. This can’t be happening, he thought, his face going scarlet.

His hands hovered awkwardly for a moment before settling stiffly on your back, but that did nothing to help the situation. Every shift you made as you adjusted yourself only heightened his awareness of his… problem.

She’s going to feel it. Oh god, she’s going to feel it, his mind screamed.

You shifted again, completely unaware of the chaos you were causing, and Isagi’s breath hitched. He was as tense as a coiled spring, his entire body screaming at him to do something, anything, to make this less awkward.

“Yoichi?” you asked softly, pulling back slightly to look up at him. Your brows furrowed in concern. “You’re so stiff. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” he yelped, a little too loudly, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

You blinked at him, your concern deepening. “You don’t seem fine. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

He scrambled for an excuse, his mind racing. “It’s—uh—my leg! Yeah, my leg’s cramping from training earlier. That’s all!”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately tried to pull away. “Oh no! Do you need me to move? Should I get you water or something?”

“No!” he blurted, his hands instinctively tightening on your waist before he quickly loosened them. “I mean—no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just… stay.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly skeptical, but you eventually nodded and leaned back into him. “Alright… but tell me if it gets worse, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as his face burned.

As you settled against him again, Isagi tried to focus on anything else—the movie, the rain outside, literally anything. But all he could feel was you, pressed so perfectly against him, and the humiliating reminder of his very obvious reaction.

This is a nightmare, he thought, gritting his teeth. She’s definitely going to notice.

And yet, even through his panic, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered what he’d been trying to ignore for so long. That this wasn’t just a physical reaction—it was you. It was always you. You were the reason his heart raced, the reason his thoughts spiraled, the reason he wanted so much more than just being your best friend.

But right now? He’d settle for surviving this without you noticing his very inconvenient problem.

Isagi thought he was barely holding it together.

After your hug, you leaned back against him again, your body pressed close, warm, and perfectly relaxed, while he was anything but. His face was still burning, his heart pounding, and his problem wasn’t going away.

Just stay calm, he told himself, trying desperately to focus on the movie playing in front of you. But then, you shifted

It wasn’t intentional—you were just readjusting yourself to get comfortable—but as you did, your hips pressed firmly against his crotch. Specifically, against him.

Isagi froze. Completely. His breath caught in his throat as every nerve in his body went haywire.

Oh god. Oh no. She’s right there. She’s going to notice my fucking boner.

He wanted to move, to say something, to do anything to fix this, but it was impossible. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before clenching into fists at his sides. He couldn’t risk touching you and making it worse.

You, blissfully unaware of the chaos you were causing, sighed contentedly and settled deeper into his arms, pressing yourself even closer. Isagi’s jaw tightened, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared straight ahead at the TV, pretending to care about the movie.

But he didn’t hear a single word of it.

His entire focus was on you and the way your body was perfectly fitted against his, and the very obvious reaction he was failing miserably to suppress. He was sure you could feel it now—there was no way you couldn’t—and the thought made his face burn hotter than ever.

“Yoichi,” you mumbled, your voice soft and casual, “why are you so stiff? Relax a little.”

Relax? Relax? He almost laughed, but it came out as a choked noise instead.

“I’m—uh—just cold!” he lied, his voice embarrassingly shaky. “Yeah, cold. That’s all.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “Cold? But it’s so warm in here. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Totally fine!” he blurted, his hands gripping the couch cushions to stop them from trembling.

You gave him a small, concerned smile before turning your attention back to the screen. But as you shifted again, pressing even closer to his crotch, Isagi let out a quiet, involuntary groan that he immediately tried to cover up with a cough.

She didn’t hear that. She didn’t notice. She didn’t notice, he chanted desperately in his head, though the heat in his face and the tension in his body were telling a very different story.

This was torture. Absolute torture. And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop.

You turned to face him, your eyes locking together in an unspoken moment. Without warning, Isagi couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned in and kissed you softly, and you kissed him back, the connection feeling electrifying. This was the first time your lips had met, and though you two had shared countless intimate moments as friends, this kiss felt different—more significant, more vulnerable.

Isagi then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently brushing against yours.

It was the first time either of you had crossed that line, and it took you by surprise. For a moment, you hesitated, but then, unable to resist, you kissed him back with equal fervor.

The kiss grew more passionate, the connection between you both intensifying with each movement.

Isagi suddenly grabs your thighs, pulling you closer until you're flush against him. You can feel his obvious arousal pressing against your core through his pants. A soft, needy whimper escapes your lips as you instinctively grind against him, seeking more friction. “I-Isagi..”

You bit your lower lip as you slowly unbuckled Isagi's belt, his eyes locked onto yours with unspoken permission. As his boxers become the only barrier between you and his obvious arousal, you can see the massive bulge straining against the thin fabric.

You hesitantly pull down Isagi's boxers, revealing his throbbing, massive member. You wrap your small hand around it, stroking slowly as he whimpers and bucks his hips. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion. Fuck... I need to be inside you.

Isagi swiftly lifts you up and pins you beneath him, flipping your skirt up in the process. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them aside to expose your glistening folds. Look how fucking wet you are for me already...

His fingers trail up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before circling your clit. You arch your back, desperate for more contact as he teases you. You're so ready for me, aren't you, baby? Look at how you're dripping...

He wraps his fingers around his thick, throbbing length and positions the plump, pinkish head at your slick, trembling opening. He rubs himself against you, teasing your entrance without pushing in, making you whimper and beg. "Please, please, please, yoichi put it in"

Unable to resist your desperate pleas any longer, Isagi surges forward, sinking his hard cock deep into your tight, welcoming heat in one powerful thrust. A low groan tears from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clutching him. “Fuuuck yes, take my cock”

He begins to piston his hips, driving his massive length in and out of your soaked pussy with brutal intensity. Your moans echo through the room as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air. “Ahhh fuck, you’re so tight.”

He hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts your legs over his shoulders, changing the angle and allowing him to plunge even deeper inside you. He pounds into you mercilessly, hitting spots inside you that make you scream and writhe beneath him. “Yo-ichi feels so good! M’so close ichi” you say.

His breathing grows heavier, his movements becoming slightly more frantic "Fuck, I'm close too... You feel so good, baby." He leans in, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone, a stark contrast to his rough thrusts "Cum with me, okay?"

He buries his face in your neck, his moans and heavy breaths warming your skin. His thrusts become more erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he nears the edge. "Fuck, I can't hold back... Come on, baby, squeeze me just like that..."

You let out a breathy cry "Ichi, I'm gonna—" Your body convulses around him, your inner walls clutching desperately at his cock as you climax. The sensation of your orgasm pushes him over the edge "Fuck, baby—"

He throws his head back, his body stiffening as he finds his release, pulsing hot and thick inside you. He stays like that for a moment, their bodies entwined and breathing heavily, before slowly collapsing on top of you, his face buried in your neck. "Damn..."

He lies there for a while, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he tries to catch his breath. Slowly, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes soft and satisfied. "You okay, baby?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair out of your face gently.

Isagi rolls off of you, pulling you close to his sweat-slicked chest. He chuckles softly, his voice warm and tinged with affection. "I guess that confession was more...physical than I intended. But hey, actions speak louder than words, right?"

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ghoulphile · 1 year ago

Text

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position.

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.”

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

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