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mirkhammett · 4 months ago

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die, die my darling (vampire!kirk)

summary; recently, you’ve realised that your roommate kirk has been acting different, inhumane. and you soon find out why.

warnings; blood drinking, light gore?, smut <3, a teeny bit of angst, fingering, non-protective sex (though baes a vamp so i believe it doesn’t matter :3)

w/c; 3.9k

the vamp kirk isn’t my idea, inspired by a great writer, @orions-choker!! pls go check their work out, it’s sooo addictive :p (not yet proofread so expect mistakes!!)

to say your roommate had been acting different would be an understatement.

his timid responses were the first signals that something was off- and then it was the lack of eye contact. the boy you knew to be once so smiley, couldn’t even luster up a few seconds of direct contact as you bid him off on many on his nights out, that had become much more common recently. he never said were he was going, and you never asked, but you had an inkling that every time was the same- he’d go out for a smoke, and a walk to clear his head (most likely). that would explain the faint stench of tobacco that always seemed to arise in the early mornings.

some nights you wouldn’t even wave him off- but something was the same, every single time. not once had you ever heard him come back, nor even the sound of the heavy wood door of your shared apartment clashing closed. nothing. and it wasn’t you were an early sleeper either, no. most nights you spent up into the early hours, an opened book resting on your duvet covered lap, your head only hitting the pillows when your neighbours would finally stop arguing and hit the hay. (which was never before midnight on a good day.)

but sometimes, only sometimes, you’d wake up after feeling a harsh whoosh of air through your room, rubbing your eyes in confusion and glancing to locked window. weird. you’d always blame it on your cheap, hardly working fan, and in a daze, go back to the land of dreams.

it wasn’t the first time he had acted like this, though. every couple of weeks he’d slip out into the night for these walks, and you’d take no mind of it, until now.

it was different this time. in the many months since kirk had moved in with you, you kept him close and considered him a friend. so why was it that he would avoid physical contact with you like the plague, hell, why was he so hesitant to even have a conversation? why was he always fully covered, wearing long trousers and thick sleeves in this scorching heat? and why were his eye bags so prominent, so much that his reddened veins were peeking through the thin layer of skin?

still, your feelings for him never once faltered, neither did the immense concern you felt for his wellbeing. maybe tonight was the night, do to something. to just say something, make sure he’s not struggling too much.

tonight you hadn’t heard him leave, and you hadn’t been in the living room, so he must’ve felt no need to announce his whereabouts. you couldn’t deny it, the division you felt between you and him hurt. -and tonight, tonight you were restless. kirk, he plagued all of the thoughts in your brain like a disease.

you yawned, setting your book down onto your duvet covered lap, just like every other night. the (un-happily) married couple next door had finally decided to give it a rest, but your whole body felt an immense itch, that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you scratched it.

you sighed as you slipped from under the covers, using one hand to rub your eyes and the other to mindlessly clutch your book. just as every night before, you checked the window was closed and locked, the moon shaped like a fingernail, the cheshire cat grinning down at you in irony. in irony of what, you didn’t know yet. you made your way down the hallway, passing kirk’s empty bedroom, not even bothering to check. you knew if he was home, there was no way his light would be off, and his door would be open, not even by an inch. he appreciated his privacy, and you couldn’t be mad about that.

the couch was where you decided to reside- and you didn’t care if it took even mere minutes or hours, you were going to get to the bottom of this. the thin blanket you draped over yourself didn’t provide much comfort or warmth, the coolness of the brown leather beneath you overpowering the heat, the shitty air conditioner on blast.

not even a full hour had gone by before you starting to hear it. the clatter of heavy combat boots walking down the hallway, the noise getting louder and louder as they reached your door. his combat boots. you immediately sat up on the couch, wiping your drooping eyes as you twisted around on the couch, so your body was resting against the backrest, your eyes studied tightly on the door.

he opened it with the firm gentleness that would radiate off of him, the gentleness that you knew so well. he fumbled to shove his keys back into his book, kneeling down to untie his shoes.

you leaned further over the couch, watching him with your mouth open. “kirk?”

he immediately stilled, raising from his bent position and turning to slowly, slowly face you. so much looked wrong with him, with so little explanation. you felt yourself straightening your back up. “i..” he whispered, like a deer caught in headlights.

his once muscular arms now looked much more frail, with such prominent veins, like a red rash covering his whole body as they pulsed wildly, thrashing with a hunger for blood. the rash continued up his bare arms, up to his pale neck, and through to his lifeless face. he looked tired. so, so, tired.

and without thinking you rose from the couch, stepping towards him with pure concern and worry in your features. your voice came out a soft, comforting whisper, as you reached your arm towards him. “what’s wrong with you, kirk?”

he winced as soon as your soft skin came in contact with his arm, his expression a grimace as he shut his eyes as hard as you could, almost as if he could escape this situation. you were hurt by his sudden moment, and you didn’t fail to show it, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. “you look so sick,” your eyes trailed down to his figure, “is there something i don’t know about?”

he shock your arm off of him, wrapping his arms around himself in a protective manner. a low grunt of pain escaping from his lips.

“i don’t want to hurt you, please..” it was the most you had heard him speak in days, and while you should’ve been happy, the tone of his voice was so heartbreaking, so shaky and frail.

you looked up at him, eyes full of concern, brows furrowed. he wouldn’t look at you, not fully. his eyes were either trained on the ground, or glued shut. he couldn’t bear to look at you, not at a time like this. he couldn’t bear to think of the consequences.

he had been putting of his weekly feed for a while now. infact, he hadn’t fed in weeks. whether it was the guilt or hurting another that consumed him, or self hatred, he didn’t know. all he knew was that he didn’t want to hurt you. the smell of tobacco was present on him, but you hadn’t even realised it. and if you had, you really couldn’t care less, not with the state of him.

his fingers were so pale, and the effect it took for him to press them against his own skin made you wince. even more so, did his response.

“why would you hurt me?” you slowly closed the gap between the both of you, bringing a gentle hand to burns against his cheek. “you could never hurt me.”

“but i could, y/n.” he spoke seriously. it took all of the strength in him to not just take everything he wanted from you, drain you dry. but with anyone else, he wouldn’t have even made it this far. your touch sent shivers through him, the strong scent of your sweet, warm blood rocking through him.

suddenly it all became too much, his chocolate brown orbs turning a dark, sinister shade of red, his mouth opening as he gasped out a grunt of pain, clutching his cheek.you flinched, pulling your hand away and stepping back away from him. if he was in a better state than he was know, he would’ve noticed your fear and reassured you. but he couldn’t, with the growing pains in his gums.

and once you recovered from the shock of his sudden harsh movement, you saw it. where two of his teeth once stood, were razor sharp canines, the gums around them enflamed and bloody- and that was when he finally looked up at you. with the look of horror in your eyes, he knew he couldn’t hide it anymore. “i…i’m not human, y/n.”

“you’re..a vampire?” you voiced wearily. he nodded, his exhausted eyes catching onto yours. “why do you look so…so ill?” you spoke with caution, fear in your voice, and kirk could tell, no matter how hard you tried to cover it. kirk felt his heart break at that.

“i haven’t fed..in a while,” his hand was still clutching his pale cheek, his voice filled with pain and despair. he coughed shakily, his legs buckling slightly. in a state of panic, you immediately held him up straight. he sucked in a harsh breath at your touch. “i can’t..i can’t risk hurting you.”

you shushed him, leading him to the couch, your book left discarded, the blanket now kicked to the floor. he sat slowly, still wincing his features at your gentle hands. your touch felt good, too good, and that was the problem. your touch had his undead body pulsing and throbbing, like his heart was really beating again, when he knew it.

that was how it always was with you, and he had no explanation for it, not until recently. why was it he felt so strongly for you, and no one else? it wasn’t just his heightened senses, no, no..that was for everyone else, too. it couldn’t have been his bloodlust, thought he found it so much harder to spend time around you when he was on a fast. it was more than that. there was no way for him to explain it, not truly, other than that when he was around you, he felt alive.

he didn’t even feel it when you sat down next to him, occupied by a whirlwind of thoughts circulating around his brain, going through to his empty lungs. all he breathed in was you.

“do you need blood?” how you still seemed to remain so concerned for him after what you had just found out, he couldn’t fathom. he continued to stare at the ground, and you know his answer. “okay,” you hummed, coming closer. “feed from me.”

his eyes widened, his hands coming to push you away, his voice a pained ramble, “no, no, please, i couldn’t..you’re the only person i don’t want to hurt.”

he looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes so wide you were afraid they could pop out of his head. he voiced pure denial, but you knew he couldn’t deny it for too much longer, the bloodlust taking over.

“it’s okay,” you bared your neck to him, your warm breathe sending shivers through you. “take what you need.”

he grimaced, though he leaned in, his guilt so clear on his face. you brought a hand up to his hair, ruffling it so gently he felt he could cry.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his cracked lips against your smooth skin. he hesitated for a couple seconds, until you tightened your grip on his black coils, and he lost it.

his sharp fangs broke the barrier of your gentle skin, your warm blood intoxicating and filling up all of his senses. he growled into your neck, your whimpers going unheard by him in his blood lustful state. he sucked your neck with force, a bruise already forming around, what would soon be, a bite scar.

he didn’t take much, because it was you. and if it wasn’t you, he feared he would’ve drained them dry, sucked them of all their life and soul, body turning paler, and paler, until their skin was tinted grey and he had no choice but to pull away, as they held no use to him anymore.

but it was you. so he pulled away, his mouth gone just as quick as it arrived. you whimpered as his fangs retracted, his rambled words drowning out the pain. “thank you, i’m sorry, i love you,” these words flowed from his boyish voice like a river, talking before he could even think properly again.

he wiped the loose droplets of blood from your neck with his thumb, which suddenly didn’t look so lifeless anymore. his eyes had returned to their normal shade of brown, his veins no longer visible. your body relaxed against the couch as it was now his turn to dance his hand through your hair, kissing your forehead lightly, and then pulling back.

“you love me?” you grinned, your eyes half shut, but still gazing upon him.

he returned a soft grin, his black curls bouncing as he nodded down at you, regaining his strength back. “how could i not?” he mumbled.

your body felt like a million fireworks had just gone off in your stomach, butterflies zooming around at the impact- and no, your giddiness was not from the blood loss, but kirk’s admission of love. their had been an undeniable tension between you and kirk for the many months you had lived together, confessions of love always wanted to be released, but remaining to hang lowly in the back of your minds.

for when you would grocery shop for your shared apartment together, and he’d go off and gather all of the snacks he knew you loved, without you even asking. or when you’d have a movie night, and he’d pick whatever movie he knew you were dictated on at the time. but neither of you ever said anything.

and now with his vampirism so clear to see, you knew things should have changed. you knew your feelings towards him should’ve changed. but they didn’t. “i love you too,” you whispered sweetly. you rolled your body closer to him on the couch, sitting up and using your hands to steady yourself, bringing your face towards his. “kiss me?”

he complies quicker than the speed of light, his hands gripping on your waist, softly, but firmly, his touch electrifying. he shuffles his hips, urging you to straddle his lap as his lips take place on yours.

he’s soft with it at first, becoming increasingly sloppier with time. “fuck, you’re so pretty.” he breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips back on yours.

and then it’s happening all too quick. your hands are dragging down his back, clawing even as he dominates the kiss, one of his hands now on the back of your head, keeping you steady and pulling you into him. he’s much more vocal than he was before, your blood giving him more energy than he’s ever felt before. you tasted different to everyone else. sweeter, he thought.

he’s quick to reach for the buttons of your sleep shirt, his nimble fingers slipping the bonds between the buttons and the holes of the striped material, the silk shirt hanging loosely off your shoulders. he takes in the sight of your bare chest with widened eyes, your perky nipples hardening under the shitty cool air radiating off the fan, and kirk thinks you look perfect. he leans in, leaving soft, wet pecks all over the bare skin, leaving imprints in their tracks.

you giggle, shimmying yourself out of your matching pair of shorts that complete the set, the silk material easy and complaint to slip from your body without much hassle. you mentally thank yourself for choosing this set for tonight. he quickly rids himself of his own shirt, leaving nothing to the eye.

his chest is like a sculpture from the gods, and you wonder if his figure has always been this good, or improved when he became undead.

his hand trails down your thigh to lightly graze your panties, then he stills. he looks up at you with a serious expression, his eyes soft and thoughtful. “is this okay?”

you nod with urgency, grabbing his hand firmly and pushing it into your crotch. “more than okay.” you mutter, catching your own breath.

“someone’s eager,” he mumbles under his breath, chuckling softly. he doesn’t mind though, as he’s already lacing a finger under the lacy material of your thong, hooking it and yanking it down your legs. it bundles up around your ankles, and you kick it off with ease. “there’s my girl, so pretty.”

you whimper as he trails a finger over your bare pussy and he experiments, rubbing it lazily over your clit. he whispers praises that you can barely hear, adding another finger to the mix. he uses this one to rub up and down your slit skillfully, all your arousal accumulating up just from the touch of his gentle hand. he speaks again, this time loud enough so you can just about hear him. “tell me if it hurts, m’kay?” you hum and nod, squirming on his lap.

he pushes a finger into you at the arrival your consent, slowly and gently, as to not hurt you- once he’s fully sure that you’re okay, he slides another in, this time firmer with his movements. he doesn’t move them yet as he lets you adjust to the new intrusion, just curling them inside of you.

“more, more,” you whine breathlessly, and he complies wordlessly. without warning he starts to thrust them, not quite reaching a fast pace yet, but not slow either. he uses your whines and whimpers to his advantage, finding the pace that he’s figured you enjoy most, deep thrusts of in and out, in and out, the sounds of your wetness and his palm slapping against your pussy with each thrust creating a cacophony of passion.

and it’s not long before your muscles start to contract more often, your gushy walls tightening around his calloused fingers like a vice, when he knows your getting close, and without a second thought, slips his fingers out- with absolutely no struggle, even with your tightened walls, your arousal a perfect homemade lube.

he silences your whines before they even start with a messy kiss, and it’s right then when you realise- when did he take his pants off? you don’t spend much time pondering over it, instead over his muscled legs, and his, oh my god, perfect dick.

it’s not the longest, but it’s girth makes up for it, and you can hardly even think about it before his whispering into your ear, bouncing you on his lap. “can you lay down f’me, baby?”

“y-yes.” you manage to pull squeak out, trembling of off his lap as he arises to stand, getting comfortable with your head resting on the armrest of the worn out couch, you bought way before he even moved in. you never imagined in a thousand years it would be used in this way.

it’s not long before he’s back above you again, his face just above yours as his curls coil down to brush your skin, his front strands tickling your face, causing you to giggle. you smiles at your response, opening your legs apart with a single hand. he rubs your clit, holding his dick in the other, like he hasn’t prepared you enough already. and then he’s pushing in, and it’s oh so good, and it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, still feeling slightly dazed from the blood loss, the tingles from your wound sending signals all the way down through your stomach and electrifying the butterflies, down to your pussy.

it takes him a good minute to fully emerge himself, taking his time by looking at your facial expressions, waiting until the pain of the initial stretch has fully dismissed before continuing to push further in. he’s situated inside you comfortably, like the missing puzzle piece, and it’s so disgustingly loveable, the air thick with the stench of sex and cigarettes lingering from his discarded jacket laying on the side.

slowly he begins to thrust experimentally, whacking your face immensely for any signs of discomfort, to be greeted with none- so he continues, his thrusts gradually growing in speed and deepness. he uses one hand to hold himself up, propping it up beside your waist, shadowing over your figure. he uses the other hand to rub your overstimulated clit with agility, knowing all the ways to make you tingle in just mere minutes.

the way his balls slap against your smooth skin with every thrust is addictive, the way your hands grip loosely onto his forearms powering him on- just knowing how good he’s making you feel all the motivation he needs. “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“thank you.” you respond airily, your whole body bouncing with each thrust, your words changing in pitch, becoming higher as you move up and down. he lets out a small chuckle, his thrusts slowing just slightly, before returning to their normal pace.

he’s breathless himself, sweat beading up along his hairline, his chest covered in a thin pearly layer of sweat. not enough to drip onto you, but enough to show the effects you have on him. he’s grunting himself now, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. that’s when he feels that familiar tighten of your wall as again- thought it feels so much better this time, so much warmer, so much tighter. he’s grunting softly, more and more with each and every thrust, becoming more wild by the second, your bodies moving up and down in unison.

“i’m, im close..” you manage to mutter out, thought there was no need, as he could already tell himself, your not so subtle tighten around his length giving you away. he nods repeatedly, his breathing heavy and heightened.

“i know, i know baby,” his thrusts are so sloppy, and it’s so addictive to both parties. you’re not sure if you could ever live without him. fuck, how did you go so long without him before? “are you gonna cum f’me?”

and all you can do is whine in response, a whiney and whimpering mess for him, all sprawled out on the couch, your hands no longer on his arms, but laying uselessly beside your body, to weak to grip onto anything. your walls contract even tighter now, and kirk knows it’s any minute now. your soft moans don’t stop though, no. infact, he’s almost sure they’ve gotten louder as you encounter release. “come for me, okay?”

it’s almost as if he’s controlling you like a puppet, for the way you release immediately after he’s told you too. he doesn’t stop yet, not until he’s reached his own peak- and when he does, he still doesn’t slow, riding his, and your orgasm out to its full extent. and then when you’re fully spent, that’s when he finally pulls out, his body relaxing on top of yours. he doesn’t still for long though, and after a minute he’s up again, rising from the couch to kneel beside your body.

“you tired, baby?” he peers out the window, seeing how the suns just barely, but still beggining to set, and he feels guilty for the long hours he made you wait for him earlier. you hum in response, causing him to smile softly. “okay, lemme carry you to bed.”

maybe feeding isn’t so bad after all.

#stars writing!!#kirky cutie #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #vampire x reader #vamp kirk apologist #metallica #james hetfield #vampire #dave mustaine #lars ulrich #jason newsted #rob trujillo #cliff burton

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