#vampire black reader

[fckwritersblock]

I Never Told You (part 1 )

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x black reader

Description: ( unedited af ) You and Stack have been in love for what feels like forever, but neither of you has had the courage to speak up. Stack is convinced that your heart belongs to Smoke, and as for Smoke? He’s exhausted from trying to show you both that the love you seek is right in front of you.

Word count.: 3,852

A/n: this was originally one part, but I thought it’s a break it up into two because when I tell you, it’s getting a longer and longer 😭 I don’t wanna rush the way I want it to end but the way I’m craving these Sinners fic and I know some of y’all are too. I thought it would be nice to drop it now. Couldn’t contain my own excitement 😂

Part 2 - What I Should’ve Said

Enjoy ! 🩷

As soon as you stepped off the train, a smile broke across your face. The familiar sights and sounds of home wrapped around you like a warm embrace. You were excited to finally be back, but a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach at the thought of seeing your sister for the first time in ages. Yes, you guys had written to each other, and she had tore your ass a new one in a few of them letters back home bout to running off with the twins without a word. Nevertheless, you knew regardless of how upset she may be with you, she’d always welcome you home with open arms. You missed your sister. You also missed the twins, who you were eager to reunite with. It had been almost a year since you’d all been together, and just thinkin' about Stack made your pulse quicken.

Steppin' aside so other boarding the train would have access to the front door, you made your way toward the center of the station, your eyes scanning the crowd. You were sure Stack knew you was comin' at this time, so you had a feelin' he’d be lurkin' around here somewhere. Just then, you heard it—a voice that sent a thrill of nostalgia through you. You turned around, curiosity piqued, and there he was, front and center.

But your heart sank a little when you noticed the woman standin’ in front of him. Fair-skinned and confident, she had that undeniable charm—Mary. Of course she would find him, you thought bitterly.

You watched as Stack’s gaze followed her, a solemn look crossing his face as she walked away. You should’ve known he’d seek her out the moment he arrived. You’d bet money he could find her in a crowed room, without fail.

You loathed Mary.

It wasn’t a secret. You couldn’t stand her presence and that gnawed at you deep down. It wasn’t just jealousy; it was that gut-wrenching belief that Stack cared for her more than he did for you. He looked out for her in a way that was different from how he looked out for you. The attention he gave her was the kind you had secretly longed for, and judging by the way he stood there, it seemed nothin' had changed.

Oh, how wrong you were.

“Old habits die hard, huh, Stack?” you snarked from behind him, the playful edge in your voice barely masking the hurt you felt.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes in resignation. He knew he was caught.

He didn’t even have to turn around to know it was you. Stack could tell by the sound of your voice that you was pissed, especially with the faux sugary sweet smile you wore when he finally faced you. That, and when you were at him, it was the only time you called him Stack and not Elias.

Turning around to face you he could barely contain the smile that wanted to break out.

It had been a year since the two of you had seen each other, but for him, it felt like a lifetime. For six years, y’all had traveled the world together. You had taken care of him and Smoke, watchin' their backs, makin' sure he stayed outta trouble. You had put up with his antics for so long, and he’d never understood why you stuck by his side. That was until you decided it was time to carve out your own path, to prove you could stand on your own.

So you left them. You left him. You promised to return within a year or come runnin' if he called.

But Stack didn’t call.

He figured you didn’t want him to. Not really. A part of him was upset with you for abandoning him. He knew Smoke had written to you a few times, and he tried not to let the green-eyed monster show. Smoke would tell him when he received a letter, sometimes even havin' one for him too. Stack never wrote back, but he always read the ones you sent for him. Several times in fact. He wanted to know how you were, what you had been up to, even if he fronted like he didn’t care. You were miles away and all he wanted was you near..

And now you were back, standing right in front of him, looking as breathtaking as ever. The sun-kissed brown skin of yours practically glowed in the light. The apples of your cheeks rounded as you smiled, dimples showing, and the curves of your hips called out to him as he admired your frame in the flowy yellow dress you wore. It reminded him of your favorite flower, magnolias, and coincidentally, yellow was his favorite color on you too.

You were home for him, and you didn’t even know it.

“It wasn’t even like that, Bam,” he said, tryin' to brush off the tension and butter you up with the nickname he gave you.

“It never is, is it, Stack?” you shot back, crossin' your arms, though a smile tugged at your lips.

“Come on now, after all this time, that’s the mood you wanna get off on?” He hand taken a few steps toward you and grabbed your hand.

“A brotha can’t get no love first?” He flashed you a smile he knew you couldn’t resist.

Despite yourself, your smile grew bigger as you felt the warmth of his presence pulling you in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, sinking into the comfort of his embrace.

“I missed you,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you melted against him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he replied, his words a gentle way of sayin', 'I missed you too.'

“Who’s this?” you asked, eyeing the guitar-totin' boy standin' next to them after you two finally pulled apart.

“The boy,” Stack replied, nodding in his direction.

“The boy—Little Sammie, is that you?!” you exclaimed, shocked.

“Miss Y/n?” he said, his eyes wide with disbelief.

You laughed, pulling him into a warm hug. God, he was all grown up. You used to help his ma look after him and his siblings sometimes, and you even sang in his daddy’s church for a while. That was until you started hangin' out with Smoke and Stack more and stopped goin' to church. You didn’t want to hear no sermons about how the devil had his hands on you and how you needed to come back to the Lord.

It was a bittersweet feeling, thinking about how much you missed them and how much Sammie had grown. You could see he still had to get his head on straight, but it warmed your heart that he was still playing the guitar Stack had given him.

“Well then, there will be plenty of time to catch up later. You boys finish up here. I’ll be in the car,” you announced a beat after pullin' away. You knew they was up to no good.

“Little Sammie, help Stack with my bags, will ya?” You pinched one of his cheeks playfully before giving the other a quick kiss, treating him like the youngin' he still was in your eyes.

“Oh and drop the ‘Miss’.” He stared after you, bewildered, as you walked past Stack, givin' him a wink while you patted his chest slowly, draggin' your hand away.

“That’s really Y/n,” Sammie said, still in disbelief, causing Stack to chuckle.

He hadn’t seen you since he was a boy, and he couldn’t believe how different you were now. You were just a teen girl girl in his eyes back then, but now you were a grown woman—an extremely attractive one, at that.

“She’s—”

“Way too much woman for you to handle, lil nigga,” Stack stated matter-of-factly, a smirk playin' on his lips.

Not too much for me, though, he thought to himself, wordlessly pickin' up both suitcases and handing his little cousin one. You would probably fit real pretty in the front seat of his ride right about now, knowin' you and those pretty pick pocketing hands of yours had already snatched the keys from his coat pocket.

“Well, are you?” Sammie quizzed.

“Am I what?” Stack frowned slightly.

“Handling it?” The corner of Preacher Boy’s mouth twitched just a little, and Stack knew the younger man could tell you were vexed with him, and he wasn’t handling shit.

“Bring yo ass on, smart ass.”

As a result of those endless hours of travel, you were exhausted. You hadn’t gotten much sleep on the train, not wantin' to doze off around strange white folks. Your father had raised you and your sister to always be aware of your surroundings. After hearin' Delta’s wild stories about the men he knew from the side of the road, you needed a moment to decompress. So, you let the sounds of Sammie’s guitar and the rhythm of the car rockin' gently lull you into a well-deserved rest.

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep, but soon you felt somethin' soft brush against the side of your face.

“Bam,” you heard softly as you began to stir.

“Bam.” This time you felt a poke to your cheek.

With a soft groan, you opened your eyes to see Stack standin' outside of the car, looking at you with that soft smile that always made your heart race.

“There’s my girl.” He smiled down at you.

“What you want, Elias?” You tried not to blush at his words.

“We made it. Come on.” He extended his hand for you to take.

You took it, pullin' yourself up to stand. Prepared to jump over, he surprised you by lifting you up in the air out of the back of the car.

You squealed, caught off guard as he held you slightly above him. You looked down at him for a minute, and he slowly set you back down, your body sliding against his.

“Thank you,” you said bashfully, pretendin' to fix your hair in the mirror.

He stood directly behind you, just close enough for you to catch a glimpse of his smirk in the car mirror.

“Anytime.”

“I—” you began, but were cut off by another car pullin' ahead. Once you noticed it was the truck Stack had said Smoke was in, you started walking quickly toward it. Stack told you the two of them had to split the work and that Smoke had a few stops and you knew it wouldn’t be anywhere else, but to see Annie. It was one thing for Smoke to be gone; of course then, he and Annie couldn’t be together. But while he was home, he wouldnt go anywhere without her.

“Annie!” You called as soon as your older sister came into view.

“Y/n?” Annie couldn’t believe her eyes as you ran toward her the biggest smile on your face.

“Surprise.” You spoke tearfully, as you slowed down taking the last few steps before crashing' into your big sister. You embraced her tightly, the two of you holding onto one another as if the other would disappear if you let go.

“Look at you.” She ran her hand up and around your face, cuppin' it affectionately.

“Look at you.” You repeated, mesmerized by your sister’s loving eyes.

Eyes that always looked at you with understanding, compassion, love, and support. Annie didn’t always agree with the choices you made, but she always supported you in choosin' your own destiny.

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again,” she fussed, swattin' lightly at your butt.

“Stop, girl, I’m grown,” you laughed, spinning around in a circle to dodge her playful swats.

“Girl, I don’t give a damn.” Annie fixed you with a stern look. “You’re still my baby sister. You don’t just run off and leave me without notice like that. You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry, Annie. It’s not that I wanted to; I just—” you paused, searchin' for the right words.

After a moment, you realized you didn’t need to say much. Annie would understand.

“Mine doesn’t have a mojo bag; he just has me,” you said, your voice wavering, knowin' she would know you was referring to the more reckless twin.

She smiled and nodded in understanding. You stood there for a little while longer, embracing each other, tryin' to wipe the tears from each other’s eyes, gigglin' like school girls as you did so.

“We’ll take more later ya hear?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Pullin' away, you angled your body a little more to the left to finally get a good look at Smoke.

“My girl!” he said with a small smile of his own, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey Smoke.” The two of you wrapped your arms around one another.

You missed the way Stack’s jaw clenched as you embraced Smoke. The latter didn’t as he grinned at his twin. It was an asshole thing to do, but he couldn’t help it. He had been watching the two of you pine after one another for years. If Smoke had a dime for every time he tried to convince his brother that you felt the same way about him that he felt about you—or to get Stack to confess his feelings for you—boy, he’d be rich.

It was your last night in town, and the three of you went out. You were currently dancin' with some random nigga from round the way. Stack watched you like a hawk, grillin' the hell outta the man who had your attention. Smoke couldn’t do anything but laugh at his brother’s expense.

“Nigga you got it bad,” he said with a chuckle.

“Shut up, bitch. You got it just as bad for her sister,” Stack shot back.

“Sho’ll fuck do. Don’t give a fuck who knows either.” Smoke shrugged blowing a cloud in Stack’s direction.

“Yeah, whatever.” Stack muttered, takin' a sip of his beer.

“Mmhmm, whatever shit, nigga. Could be you out there dancin' with her, tryna cop a feel. Instead, you’re here,” Smoke teased.

“It ain’t like that with us, Smoke.” He denied.

For the life of him, Smoke couldn’t understand why Stack was in denial about you. It was like he was purposely standing in his own way, unwilling to accept a good thing.

“Have I ever been wrong about a woman tryna throw her pussy at you?”

“Nah,” Stack grumbled, his defenses slowly crumbling.

“Aight then, nigga. Listen for once.” Smoke said, playfully mushing the side of Stack’s head as he stood up to head to the bar.

“Aye, watch out.”

“Girl follows you around the world, and you still questionin' shit,” Smoke called over his shoulder.

He could only shake his head at the memory. Smoke swore dealin' with y’all shit was gonna put him in an early grave.

Once the two of you released one another from the hug, you walked back toward your sibling, and Smoke did the same.

“You good, man?” Smoke asked, knowing full well he wasn’t. He just wanted to see if he was ready to be honest with himself.

“Yeah, uh, I’m good.” Stack cleared his throat before repeatin', “I’m good.”

“Good.” He patted his brother on the back. “Now let’s get to work.”

Now, you knew you was comin' to work, but you ain't expectin' to be put through the wringer! As much as y’all got on each other’s last nerves during the setup, it was all part of the charm. Smoke being the bossy one, always puffin’ up his chest like everybody ain’t already know he ran the place; Cornbread, with his big ass, ain’t stop complainin' 'bout how heavy them boxes was; Delta always droppin' “back in my day” stories like they was gospel every five minutes. And Stack? He was slick, finessin' Preacher Boy into doin' part of his work in the name of “respectin' your elders.”

Not to mention you, Grace, and Annie, makin' one little complaint 'bout the heat, which led to Bo shakin’ up a bottle of beer and lettin' it spray all over y’all like a makeshift sprinkler system to “cool y’all off.” But this? This was the stuff you cherished. These were the moments you missed. After hours of busting your backs, the grand opening was here, and the party was in full swing.

You found yourself wrapped up in Stack’s arms, your back pressed against his solid front. The sweet sound of southern blues wrapped around you like a warm embrace. Ain’t nothing like live music from home, and tonight, the air was thick with rhythm. Effortlessly, your body flowed with the beat, swayin' in a circle until you found yourself once again meetin' Stack's chest. One of his arms hung loosely around your waist, his fingers barely grazing your skin, followin' the pace of your movements like it was second nature.

“So, this is new,” you teased, glancing back at him.

“What’s that?” Stack’s voice was low, his eyes glued to the way your hips moved, like he was tryin' to memorize every curve.

Stack thought you was downright gorgeous, and it drove him crazy. He wished he could tell you every single day how beautiful you were. Your body? It made his heart race. Big hips, thick thighs, and those legs that seemed to go on for days. That dress you wore? It gave him a perfect view of your curves, and he found himself lost in thoughts he shouldn’t be havin’.

“You dancin' with me,” you said louder, breakin' him outta his daydream.

“I’ve danced with you before,” he replied, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You leaned your head back further, givin' him a smirk. “Not like this.”

Stack’s grip around your waist tightened, the two of you still swayin’ to the music. “What’s this?” His breath brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine that you tried your best to ignore.

“Like you tryna work your way into my drawls,” you shot back, playful but with a hint of seriousness.

“And if I am?” he shot back, spinning you around so you faced him, his gaze intense.

You were momentarily stunned, your eyes searchin’ his for any signs of this bein' a joke, you arms now loosely around his shoulders.

“Smoke told you.” you said, his words heavy like a weight on your chest, but it felt more like a statement than a question.

You knew Smoke couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it came to his brother. Stack had ditched you and Smoke for the night to run off with some floozy and you were hurting bad. Especially after the way he had been flirting with you day after day. After an attempt at drowning your feeling in a bottle of whiskey, you had confessed your undying love for Elias Moore to his other half after the world became a bit too blurry. The truth came spillin' out like vomit, then afterwards, literal vomit. You could curse the ground Smoke walked on for lettin' it slip.

Stack watched as the gears turned in your head, his eyes dropping to your bottom lip, which you had pulled between your teeth. He chuckled softly, still swayin' with you, but the tension was thick.

“Smoke been tryna tell me for years,” he confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again.

He wasn’t sure if he was talkin' 'bout Smoke tryin' to get him to accept his own feelings or the ones you held for him.

It was the way you cared for him. In every way. You checked on his well being constantly. The effects of the war on smoke were clear. He had his issues and one of them Stack always took care of. Rolling his cigarettes, making certain shit easier for Smoke every chance he got. Stack was the suffer in silence type. No I didn’t know the trauma he had suffered. He preferred everybody think he was OK. But you saw right through him. You seem to be able to tell every time something took him back there the lifeline you’d reach out of your hand, holding his gentle caresses to the top of his hand, which is the tiniest of squeezes that will bring him back and remind him that he was here and safe and with you. Stack was the type to suffer in silence, keepin' his struggles close to his chest. But you? You saw right through him. You could tell when something haunted him, and each time, you’d reach out, holdin' his hand, givin' him that gentle squeeze to remind him he was safe with you.

You were everything to Stack.

The air between you two shifted, thickening with unspoken words and feelings.

“When did it click?” Your heart raced, the world around you fading away.

Y’all had stopped movin’, probably the only two still in the crowd of people dancing and signing having a time.

“The one you left.” Stack admitted, feeling a bit guilty for only realizing how deep his feelings and love for you really were.

Speechless you pulled away from him completely, mouth opening and closing as you stuttered trying to find the right words to say. Overwhelmed with emotion and not quite sure what to do with yourself you turned around to scurry away when he grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on now. Why you runnin'?” He was holding you again, bobbing his head around trying to catch you eye as you avoided his.

“Elias, you drunk,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Baby, I ain’t had a sip of liquor,” he replied, his grip on your chin gentle, forcing you to look at him.

Big brown eyes searched yours, filled with a truth that made your heart swell with love.

“Y/n,” he started, but just then—

“Stack!” Smoke’s voice cut through the moment like a hot knife through butter.

You two pulled apart at the sound of his brother calling.

“Let me holla at you for a minute,” Smoke beckoned, clearly oblivious to the tension hangin' in the air.

You could see Stack was ready to protest, but you stopped him, gently cupping the side of his face in your hands. Stack might not have been running off liquid courage, but you had dug deep for some courage and found enough bravery to push through.

You pressed a soft kiss to the side of his cheek, and then another right next to the corner of his mouth, lettin' your lips linger just a moment longer.

“Go. We’ll talk later,” you assured him, pulling away with a grin as you turned to find a seat at the bar y’all had been swayin’ next to.

It wasn’t long before Stack's arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Count on it,” he whispered, kissing the side of your neck, sending warmth flooding through you.

You flushed at the feeling of his lips on your skin, that deep baritone voice igniting a fire you didn’t know you had.

You couldn’t wait until later. But unfortunately, later never came.

[lov4gor3]

me waiting on yall to make these sinner fics 😭🧍🏾‍♀️

[melancholymetropolis]

“Stop pretending that you hate me,” Stack said with a smug grin.

“I’m not pretending.”

I let the words fall upon his ears like a cracked glass on the floor. His face dropped. The smile was long gone and a look of pain flashed across it. Stack looked as though I shot him in the chest. A shaky breath fell from his lips as he flicked the cigarette bud from his fingertips. He closed the distance between us in three long strides. My back was pressed against the brick wall of the shop before I could blink. The pain on his face morphed into anger so hot it made his skin burn. 

“You don’t mean that,” he spat, looking me dead in the eye.

 Stack tried to make himself bigger, more intimidating. A lackluster attempt to scare me, but it hadn’t worked. Not only were we a few inches shy of the same height, but I could see right through him. I knew Stack before he was Stack. 

When he was just Elias.

“Y/N,” his voice was a warning. Danger in his tone, but it didn’t phase me. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Get out of my way, Stack,” I said, in a low tone. A desperate attempt to hide the pain in my voice. The stitches of an old wound was beginning to reopen. “I have work to do.”

His eyes poured into me just used to. Filling my head with stupid assumptions that only left me heartbroken in the end. I thought about how he set my dislocated shoulder in place; it must've meant he liked me. How he acted as my left hand for weeks until the pain went away; that must've meant he cared about me. The way he hunted down the man who did it and made him pay… must've meant he loved me. Only me.

But, that wasn't the whole truth.

“So that's why you never replied to my letters,” Stack replied, eyes still searching my face. “Still angry about Mary, huh?”

I dared to stare back at him. My gaze like cold rain to his heated gaze. I refused to slip the mask and embarrass myself in public like she did. He wasn't worth that. Not anymore. Not after seven years. 

I was better than that.

“Not really,” I said with an air of indifference. “I was a little preoccupied to hold a grudge.”

As if summoned, a squeaky little voice cut through the tension. Making Stack freeze on impact. Something he hardly does.

“Mommy?”

My sweet baby girl tilted her little head up at us to assess the situation. Her deep brown eyes searched the potentially dangerous stranger before flicking back over to me, in a caged position. A look of irritation, or disgust briefly graced her face. She narrowed her eyes at Stack and crossed her arms against her chest. Madeline was not afraid of anything. She was always the kind of child to look danger in the eye and laugh.

"Is that ugly man bothering you?" She said, staring directly at Stack. "Should I call daddy?"

An orchestra of emotion appeared on Stack's face. He seem to be both deep in thought and confused at the same time. Like he working out something profound. It took him several seconds before he came to.

"How old are you?" He asked Madeline, jumping right into the conversation.

"I don't talk to strangers," she tilted her in defiance, earning a smile from me.

Good Girl.

Stack, then, turned back to me. A desperate look in his eye; silently asking me the same question. Though he couldn't bring himself to the vocalize it. A look a true fear and hope on his face.

I used his trembling expression to my advantage and slipped from his arms. I took Maddie's hand and steered her away him.

His eyes drilled into my back, but he didn't dare move a muscle. He couldn't. He didn't to make a scene, or worse, alert everyone else of an open secret.

My baby survived, while my cousin's, Annie, didn't.

-----------------------------

a/n: watched sinners and I had to whip something up. let me know if you would like a part two! drop a comment if you would like to be on the taglist, if this becomes a series.

@lov4gor3

--------------------------

Part II

[innorality]

stack x reader (sinners)

cw : biting, blood, spit-play, no protection + finishing inside (I love stack sm yall)

"f-fuck.. stack!" you moaned out, your hands trembling in his firm grip against the table that creaked with every movement of his relentless hips.

you back was flat on the table while your legs were wrapped around his slutty fucking waist— fuck, you could drown in the sight of him.

becoming vampires did have a lot of downsides, but the pros were fucking heavenly.

he had more stamina, more force, more speed. your sex life? upgraded for as long as a dagger doesn't get in that pretty little chest of his.

"shit– sweetie.." he lowered his head, nuzzling in the crook of your neck. "you smell so fuckin'..." he trailed off, and you felt his dick twitching inside of you as he inhaled your scent.

his thick cock battered your insides, turning you into a limbless puddle of pleasure. his free hand—the one that wasn't holding both of your wrists—trailed down your body and onto that puffy little clit of yours. "I wanna- fuck.. wanna make you cum.." his fangs bared, "'cuz.. when you cum.. your blood- shit.. your fuckin' blood.."

and he feels like he's about to cum himself.

his balls tightened at the sound of your honey-coated voice dripping out your swollen lips, moaning his name, at the sound of your heart pounding faster by the second, at the sound of your blood rushing to flow in your veins.

he rubbed your clit faster, pinching and slapping it every so often, and when you finally climaxed, it hit you like a rocking ball.

it took you by surprise, to be honest.

one second you were listening to your demonic boyfriend ramble about your blood flow when you came, and the next, an overwhelming wave of pleasure filled your senses. and you didn't know if it was the fact that your senses were heightened aswell, or if he just fucked you that good, but you swear that you saw the pearly gates of heaven for a moment.

your velvet walls came clamping down on him, cream coating his length with every greedy thrust he made. he watched your tits bounce up and down as your body moved with his like a fucking ragdoll.

"s-shit.." was the only word he could even think of uttering when his eyes bored back down to where the two you connected, and he saw the amount of gooey cream that you coated him with and he just can't help himself–

"f-fuck baby– im-" and he's biting down on your neck. hard. hard enough to draw blood, hard enough for it hurt. the pain felt delicious, and you only ached for more, so you fought through the overastimulation and overall need to just lie down, got a hand out of his wrist lock, and pushed him even deeper on your neck.

and shit, he thinks he might just die. the smell of taste of your blood, the feeling of your oozing pussy around him, the deafening sound his tip made everytime he hit your cervix... it all catches up to him.

he cums. hard. his abs clenched like he was having a seizure and he whimpered. you vampire ex-soldier boyfriend just whimpered in your ear. "f-fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck- why do you feel so fuckin' good, baby? shit.. bet you wanna- bet you wanna taste yourself huh?" and he quite literally fights gravity to bring his head back up. you parted your lips obediently and suddenly, a stream of a mix of your blood and his drool dripped down from his mouth to yours.

you swallowed as he pulled out, feeling his sticky cum dribble out of your still clenching hole, panting.

maybe this new vampire life wasn't so bad, after all.

[brownskincheyenne]

Bruh I’ve never seen this before in a relationship on screen ! The hurt , the pain, the love , the understanding , the forgiveness, the eternal feeling ! Especially between black folk that look like me ! The closest I’ve seen this was piper and Leo on charmed and I Stan their relationship to this day .. but annie & smoke feel different ! It feels like the marrow in my bones ! You know ! Like that hymn that comfort you ! It feels like the grace that God gives idk !! I love them !!!

[kill4luvina]

"Fucked Around and Found out"

Vampire!Ony x Nerd!Reader (Fem)

Onyakapon ain't the type to get caught up in relationships—he's always been about casual hookups, bouncing from girl to girl, never sticking around long enough for anything real. But that all changes when he meets you. Over the years at Oak Ridge High, he’s never met anyone quite like you—to the public eye your the sweet, innocent & quiet girl nobody pays any mind to. He believed it too, Until one night at a wild house party, he sees a whole different side of you.

Warnings : SMUT, Ony & Reader are both drunk, Unprotected Sex, Choking, fingering, manhandling, biting & death (reader turns into a vampire at the end), reader has nipple piercing, spit kink, Oral (m receiving), mating press, reader is a slut for ony, breeding, creampie, Telepathy, cockdrunk reader, ooh girll, and so much more.

Onyakapon only sees you during Art Studio on Fridays, the one time he decided to stop by on a sunny day instead of going home after his last lecture. He sat next to you, and charmed his way into becoming your friend—complimenting your art and literally just talking to you about anything.

Today was like any other Friday, he walked into the studio with McDonald's. Catching your attention as you greeted him. "Why’d you get McDonald's?" you tilted your head, addressing the elephant in the room.

"So, you don’t want some?" he asked, making you laugh and shake your head. While eating, he couldn’t help but notice you got your hair and nails done.

You adjusted your glasses on your face as you picked up your phone, realizing you were running a little late. "I gotta go, me and my friend are going out tonight. I’ll see you next week?" you smiled, your braces making you even cuter to him.

"Mmhmm, be safe," he said, and you nodded before leaving.

He sat there for a minute, looking to the side, and noticed you left your drawing. He pulled it closer and realized it was a few different sketches of him, with his name drawn in the middle. There was a cute note at the bottom with your number & Instagram.

Ony’s homeboys had noticed the change in him since he met you. He didn’t really talk to or about any other girl but you. It was like his brain didn’t even register that today was his 3rd time seeing you, but he felt so comfortable around you. The weekdays were now just him, doing his schoolwork and making art.

A shocking change, due to his history of hooking up with girls every other day. Once in a while using them as a snack when they didn’t meet his standards.

This new change made being a vampire difficult, rather then killing girls he found peace in buying extra rats for his snake and him as well. Which wasn’t enough but would get him through the day.

But today, after what you said, he felt like he needed to get back in the game. And what better way than hitting up a house party? One hosted by his homeboys, Eren and Connie. Being asked to help set up Ony was there hours before the party even started.

His homeboys pressured him into drinking, three shots in and the three of them killed six girls. Two girls each boy, Eren and Connie leaving Ony to take care of the party as they rid the girls bodies.

Around 10:30, that's when you walked into the living room, completely catching his attention. You made your way over to one of your friends as she poured some Don into your mouth, both of you giggling, already tipsy from earlier.

"Y/n?" you heard Onyakapon’s voice as you turned around, slightly startled. You walked over to him, and he chuckled. "I never knew I'd see you at something like this." “fr? i go out a lot actually.”

Smiling you quickly turned to get the bottle of Don. He’d let out a light huff as he felt you get comfortable on his lap pressing your pussy against his lil big friend through the fabric of his sweats. “y/n?..” “yess??” you’d giggle before looking for something on you.

You’d pull your phone out and start recording. “say aahh.” he’d hesitate before opening his mouth as you pour some down his throat. You’d giggle more as you pressed your head against his, triggering his telepathy ‘he smells too good.’ hed hear making his eyes flashing a glint of red.

You looked so different, your deep side part sleeked to the side framing your face as the straight hair fell a little past your waist. Your pink and cheetah prink nails, matching with the very short pink crop top that barely covered your tits. Your jean skirt that barely cover your ass didn’t help the fact you had no panties on. 

‘when is he gonna touch me…’

All with cute Jordans that matched the pink of your outfit. You play with his chain will in his lap, as he finds himself playing with your pierced nipples through the thin fabric of your tight top. Picking you up in the same position, he’d walk you upstairs to the second floor where no one else was allowed.

“No panties?” He’d almost choke on his words, spreading your thighs open, noticing you were already soaked. About to go down on you,  he found himself watching your head bop up and down his dick slowly, swallowing as much of him as you could at a time. “fuckk— “ 

His eyes rolling back the moment you locked eyes with him for a second, head falling back as his hands quickly reached for your head. “Mamas—sloooo uw! the fuck down!” he’d almost whine. You had him in a vulnerable state nobody had ever, in his years of living. 

This only encouraged you to take him deeper, and faster drooling all over his dick. Your eyes watering as you messed up your make up with saliva. You’d pop him out of your mouth for a moment stroking his full length. Mentally trying to process how you were gonna handle all 9 ½ inches. 

Without hesitation you went back to work, hands moving in the opposite direction of eachother as your sucked at his tip. Something about the way his dick touched the back of your throat left the poor boy completely overfilling your mouth with cum. 

‘s’muchhh… n he looks so good all fucked out.’ 

Not even a second after you pulled away he was completely hard again. The way you looked up at him making his dick twitch and pupils turn red. The alochol in his system not helping, as he watched you pull your shirt off.

The eye-contact for a moment giving him complete control of your mind. “C’mere, mamas,” he'd smirk. Watching your eyes flicker a pretty pink, with cute heart in your eyes as your crawled towards him. Your mind completely blank as you followed instructions you could only hear through your thoughts.

‘i want a kiss..’ you’d find yourself thinking.

Eyes flickering back to normal as you now found yourself in his lap, kissing him. His right hand completely wrapped around your neck, that looked so small compared to his hand. The kiss getting deeper and hotter by the second has he started to grip you neck a little tighter, your eyes rolling back as you felt his left hand finds its way from your ass to your fat wet pussy.

The sloppy kiss getting messier as you whined and moaned trying to catch your breath, your head spinning as you got dizzy. “Wanna be a slut right?” he’d pull away to say, sliding to fingers deep in your pussy as tried everything to kiss him again. “Onyy” you’d whine feeling his grip loosen, but his fingers get deeper. 

‘too, gooodddd!’

The sloppy sound of pussy filling the room as his fingered you, with your pretty moans to harmonize with it. He’d watch you cum, your legs shaking as you let out a cry quickly resting your head against his shoulder. 

Before you knew it, you were in arched up in doggy a quick slap to the ass bringing you back to reailty. “What are you?!” you’d panic feeling him push agains’t your wet entrance making you wonder why you even cared anymore. 

‘i just wanna get fuckedd by himm’ you’re brain would spin trying to pull if even just an ounce of concern, but it what no where to be found. You felt completely safe in his hands, his dick slamming into your sloppy cunt. Your eyes rolling back, as your completely forgot your question and worries. 

“I’m- a vampire.” he’d answer, making your quickly turn to face him as smiled showing off his fangs as he watched confused reaction. Fear wanted to consume you, but you were too fucked out and drunk to care. To be honest, you found it hot making your pussy clench and swallow him deeper. 

“fuuckkk, you like that ma?” he’d asked, slowly starting to move as your pussy gripped him tighter making him lightheaded. “pussy too good, you not going anywhere.” he’d think aloud as he sped up the pace. The sloppy slaps and wet sounds mixed with both your moans and his groans.

“Right! THERE!!” you’d cry out, arching deeper and fucking back into him as you felt him hit a spot you never knew existed. Your brain going completely blank, the only thoughts remaining being how well he was fucking you. Eyes rolling back as your pull at the bedsheet trying not to run from it. 

To your rescue, Onyakapon notice his red eyes only glowing brighter and in three seconds you were in mating press. Too fucked out to even question how that was humanily possible, because it wasn’t. His strokes speeding up not helping matter as your started to cry, tears filling your cheeks out of pure bliss.

‘Sooo, close!’

“You about to cum mamas?? Mm?” he’d say, almost making you realize he had been reading your mind all along. Until he pulled back for a moment, slapping your pussy earning a yelp from you. Before going right back to fucking every braincell out of you. “Say aahhh!” he’d smile his heavy lustfilled eyes meeting yours. 

Not even being able to control yourself your mouth opened. “aahhhhhh” you’d obey as he spit in your mouth. “Swallow.” he’d command, no longer being controlled you did and you enjoyed it. Your final straw was when he quietly whispered “good girl” in your ear and started kissing you. 

You squirted, harder then you’ve ever in your life crying into the kiss as he quickly pulled away biting your neck hard making you physically cry even harder. Trying to push him away as you felt blood pouring down your neck. The mixed pleasure and pain not even allowing you to realize he came in you. 

His cum completely painting your walls white, as your lifeless body fell to the bed when he removed his fangs. Ony  hovered above you, admirring his masterpiece as he whispered loving affirmations. Cooing as he watched you open your pretty eyes, pink pupils staring up at him as you batted your lashes. 

Little did you know, you were his no matter what and he has just marked his territory on your whether you liked it or not. But, he had a feeling you wouldn’t mind especially now you could keep up with him.  

"And our happiest days would be spent Picking off all your friends And they'd see A love this deep Won't stay buried"

[blac-ivy]

Every time I see a twilight or tvd long x reader fic I get excited and then the name is like

" the other Swan"

" the forgotten Gilbert"

" the secret Mikaelson"

take your ass back to Wattpad because that shit is LAZY.

No adoption mentioned either, which could create such a nice explanation and allow us POC readers to feel like we're not immediately excluded.

And the lack of racial/ethnic diversity, where is your imagination? You could literally craft an entire plot about how your mc has come to be involved with these characters and that's what you go with?

And the mc doesn't have to somehow be more powerful than every other powerful character like, they can just be strong and powerful enough to hold their own y'know?

[bluudsucka]

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

chapter I - chapter II - chapter III (coming soon)

summary: it's the middle of the night in august and your husband isn't home, most likely spending his night with one of his many mistresses. but that didn't bother you as tonight was one of the many nights your lover, remmick, comes and spend some 'quality time' with you.

word count: 5k

warnings: smut, female reader, religious undertones, vampire sex, infidelity, bloodkink, blood drinking, blood loss, spit kink, oral sex, squirting, praise kink, slight mention of the hive mind, slight fluff at the end, remmick is down bad fr

author's note: my first ever fic, i was bored and wanted to write somethin'. i envisioned his lover to be black while writing this, i'm open to criticism to improve on my work, thank you so much for reading! enjoy!

The buzzing choir of cicadas enraptured your thoughts peacefully as your forehead that glisten with sweat pressed against your clasped over worked hands. You always enjoyed hearing the insects sing their song, it brought calmness to your frenzied and sporadic thoughts, and somehow those thoughts worsened when you would recite your nightly prayer.

Your lips mouthed the words you knew since you were a child, though no sound escaped from your mouth. Bruised knees planted firmly onto the dark wooden floor boards that would creak and groan underneath the shuffling of your weight, your elbows placed on top of the soft bedding that you shared with your husband.

Your husband.

A strong Godfearing man - who so happened to be a preacher - he was an adequate protector and provider, always giving you want you needed. A home that shielded you from the dangers of man and beast that lurked within the countryside, barn animals to cultivate fresh provisions, and social standing within the tightknit community that the church provided. But the one thing your husband lacked was willpower.

He was a cheater.

Women was his weakness, he would be gone days at a time, entertaining whichever woman he decided to obsess over that week. At first it broke your heart, so much in fact that you'd became bedridden when you saw him fucking a woman after Sunday Service. Ironically the sermon that day was about protecting the sanctity of marriage. You wanted to leave him - truly you did - but the elders within your church convinced you not to.

'As man; we all suffer from sin. It is not the way, but forgive and pray for him, so that he may seek the right and righteous path.'

You cried after hearing their words, but you did as told.

You prayed.

Oh, God. Did you pray.

But nothing changed.

With a sigh you ended your nightly prayer with an airy 'amen' and rose up from the hard floor. Sweat clung to your body due to the heatwave that Mississippi had, it had been hot for days now, and it oddly seemed like the nights were hotter than the mornings. You made sure to take an extra long bath before bed, but with how much you're sweating you knew you'd have to take one again early in the morning.

Slinking yourself between the bedsheets, you rested your head onto the soft feathered filled pillow, your eyes staring straight into the water stained ceiling. You told your husband to fix the pipes that caused the stain, he assured you that he will.

That's been five weeks ago.

You didn't bother blowing out the candle that sat onto the mahogany end table, the flickering of the small fire casting shadows across the cream colored wallpaper, the shadows enhancing small cracks and tears within the thinly cheap plaster. Frenzied thoughts turned into worry as you tossed onto your side, staring out the grime covered window, the night was eerily black. No stars, no moon, nothing. The muffled cicadas chirping only made your heart ache more.

His side of the bed was empty, he should be here by now.

As if on cue, loud knocking reverberated through the small one story home, you couldn't help to adorn a toothy smile. Jumping from the bed like it was molten lava, you dashed towards your heavy front door, the floor creaked and squealed underneath your bare feet.

With nimble fingers you hastily unlocked the many locks that held your door shut, biting your lip as you squeezed your thighs together. You couldn't help it, this man was everything to you. He made you feel things no man ever could, not even your husband could achieve reaching you to nirvana like how this man could. With a turn of a knob you were face to face with your love.

Your one and only.

"Hello, pretty girl. ya' missed me?"

There he stood, tall and proud, his broad shoulders rolling as he mumbled those soft words to you. He wore something different tonight, a light baby blue button up shirt that wasn't buttoned to the top, showing a white wife-beater underneath the clean dress shirt. Black suspenders held up his thick dark wool trousers, and your eyes couldn't help to glance at his thick hand that hung lazily over the strap that connected to his banjo.

He always had that instrument on him, always strumming away on the metal strings, singing you songs that came from his homeland that was far, far away from Mississippi. The instrument was strapped tightly around his body, you hope he'd sing you a new tune tonight. Leaning forward, his dark eyes scanned your features, taking in your beauty just like the first night you'd invited him in.

But he didn't pass the threshold.

The golden chain that hung around his neck glisten underneath the warm ember light that enveloped your home, you loved twirling that chain with your fingertips after he made love to you, and you couldn't wait to do it again tonight.

"You gonna make me stand out here? Or do I gotta beg, like last time?" He smiled, the sight of his sharp canines made your heart skip a beat. You remembered a few nights ago Remmick upset you, greatly. He didn't mean to, but he did. You both had a rule when he would come visit.

Don't talk about your husband.

Remmick couldn't stand the man, often turning pictures of your husband around and out of his view when he would come over, but he never outwardly stated that he despised him.

But you knew.

One night as his ice cold hands raked over your body, touching you in places only he knew that'll make you squirm with delight, he whispered softly in your ear: "I wonder if that preacher knows his wife is sleeping with the devil?"

You pulled away quickly from his comment, reality and shame crashing into your core, it felt like you just been trampled by wild horses. Staring at him your face twisted in disgust, not at Remmick, not fully. But disgust at yourself. At the end of the day, you were a cheater too, and the worst kind.

You were fucking a vampire.

That night was cut short with you rushing him out of your home, stating that he should never speak about your husband in that way. Even though the love between you and your estranged spouse was wavering, the love was still there. And as badly as it hurt Remmick, he knew you'd always have some sort of soft spot for that preacher.

Pulling yourself together, you opened the door wider, making enough room for Remmick to enter. "N-No, come in."

And come in he did, the wooden floor groaned underneath his heavy steps as he waltz within the home casually, as if he lived here himself. He started his nightly routine: turning those pictures of your husband around, making them face the wall, if it was up to him he'd wait until that preacher came back from whoever he was with and drain all of the blood from his body, killing him in an agonizingly slow death. You shut the heavy wooden door, a loud thud echoed through the home as your fingers locked the door again, each click of locks turning made Remmick smile.

Nobody in their right mind would lock themselves in with a vampire, but you were his, and he was yours.

He'd never hurt you.

"You're late, I was worried about you." You whispered, walking towards the taller man, as your arms wrapped around his stocky shoulders. He was so cold, like a corpse, but that didn't bother you none. In fact you were fond of his icy touch, especially in this Mississippi heat. Resting your head onto his chest his hands worked over your body, squeezing each curve he possibly can until his hand rested on the back of your head. With a feather light touch, he began to stroke your hair as the both of you swayed side to side, content with finally being in each other's arms after a long day.

"I know sugar, I'm sorry. I had a few things to take care of..."

"A 'few things', Remmi are you--"

"It ain't nothin' like that, I was hungry. I know, I should've waited till I got here, but a man's gotta eat. And I don't wanna drain you dry, pretty girl." Remmick assured, he knew that your mind would wonder, that was one of your many quirks. He would never entertain the thought of forming this kind of relationship you both shared with someone else, Remmick had carried an indifference towards the living for centuries now, only using them for sustenance and knowledge.

Nothing else.

He wouldn't betray you, unlike that preacher.

Pulling away from his freezing embrace you glanced at his face. Scanning his beautiful features - you loved staring at him, you could do it for hours - maybe it was some sort of vampiric charm? You didn't know, but all you did know was the burning desire to taste him, and for him to taste you.

"Got room for dessert? Come 'ere." You sighed as your hands raced over his thick biceps, stopping for a beat to trace the abnormally blue veins that adorn his forearms, and then interlocking your finger with his. You guided him towards the bedroom, though he didn't need guidance, as he'd enter your bedchambers several times now.

His hungry eyes danced across your frame, you wore a dusty pink nightgown, his favorite one that you own. It was so thin that wearing it was useless, he could see each and every curve of your body. Not to mention your raised nipples poking the fabric, begging to be licked and suckled on. Once you both entered the bedroom, you placed Remmick onto his side of the bed, the one closest to the door. The one that's away from the window.

Even though you made sure to invest in thick blinds, you didn't want to risk it, you often use your body as a shield when rays of sunlight peeked through them. With a sigh he pulled the banjo off of his body, leaning the instrument against the nightstand. He waited for this moment all day, as drool began to form in his mouth.

He hated drooling in front of you, the worry of him freighting you always crossed his mind when he would drool, but you were never frightened.

In fact it turned you on. The thought of him drooling over you made the butterflies in your stomach intense, and the familiar ache in your loins grow stronger. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, his dark eyes followed your movements. Your fingers opened the drawer of the nightstand, digging deep into it, pushing books and junk paper out of the way until you found what you've been looking for.

A sharp knife.

A switch blade to be precise, the kind that could slice through meat and possibly bone with enough force. Turning to face him again, you opened the palm of your hand that was covered in bruises and cuts. Your husband had questioned you about the sudden appearance of these flesh wounds, but you would tell him that you accidently cut yourself cooking or from doing chores around the house.

With a wince you slashed your hand open, crimson pearling from the wound as it slowly spilled out of the cut. Remmick held your hand within his as he looked up at you with reverence, as if you were an angel sent to absolve him of his sins. With quickness he placed his lips over the cut, his tongue lapping up the thick blood as if it was liquid gold. He tried his best not to sink his sharp teeth into your skin, he knew about your fear of being turned.

You weren't ready yet, and he understood.

So to circumvent this; you came up with the idea of him drinking you from an open wound, avoiding using his poisonous teeth in the process. He moaned against your palm as he sucked the gash on your hand, trying his best to get as much blood as he can. You tasted so sweet, and the memories that clung onto your blood tasted even sweeter.

Your memories and experiences swarmed his mind, pulling him deeper and deeper in ecstasy. He could see everything you've experienced, all the highs and lows, all the pain and happiness, all the heartbreak and love. He could feel everything, he could see everything.

The time that you skipped Sunday school as a teen to share your first kiss with a boy in a cornfield, that moment when you tasted alcohol for the first time, and that aching feeling of when you cried for days after you found your husband with another woman.

You ran your free hand through Remmick's thick and dark hair, your fingers separating each curl you could find as you watch him drink from you, your core growing wetter by the second.

"That's it, baby. Drink it all, drink all of it." You encouraged, which earned an eager nod from the man, his large hands squeezing yours tight. You winced at the pain of him holding your hand in a chilled vice grip, but you didn't pull away.

You'd never do that until he got his fill.

With a wet pop he pulled his lips from your hand, a string of saliva connected his bottom lip and your palm, his lips were stained red from your blood. His once dark eyes were now ruby red, the most beautiful shade of red you'd ever seen.

Remmick shot you a toothy smile, his fangs more prominent than ever and his eyes were glossy. It was as if he'd taken a hit of an intense drug, he couldn't help but to lull his head to the side, trying his best to catch his breath. You were breathy too. Watching him feed on you made you horny, so incredibly horny.

The cut on your hand was still bleeding, and with one final lick the man finally spoke: "Lemme patch you up, pretty girl."

Remmick reached into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a roll of bandages, with a lick of his lips he began to wrap the bandage around your hand tightly. The high of him feeding from your hand slowly washed away as the sting of the wound bit at your soft skin, you hissed when the bandage pressed against the wound.

"I know, sugar. I know. Thank you for this, baby. Thank you for feeding me."

You didn't reply, you didn't need to. He knew you'd gladly offer him your blood, but being the gentleman that he is, he had to verbalize his gratitude. You didn't need to do this - but you did.

He's forever in your debt.

Your eyes flicked between his chiseled pale face, his gentle hands that wrapped the bandage on your wound, and the growing bulge within his black pants. He was aching to be inside you, and you were aching for him to take you fully. Once he was done dressing your cut, you placed steady hands onto his strong shoulders, and without a second thought you planted a heated kiss onto his crimson lips.

He quickly kissed you back, his hands cupping your face as he pulled you closer towards his frame, making you straddle his lap in the process. The taste of iron filled your mouth as the kissed deepened, both of your tongues danced with each other as blood that stained his lips now stained yours. His sharp canines dragged against your lips, as he tried his best to savor the blood that clung to them.

He wanted to bite down - it took so much willpower to stop the urge to do so - his cold hands trailed down your cheeks towards your neck, he felt your pulse underneath his finger tips.

He couldn't wait for the day you finally let him sink his fangs into you, the day when the both of you could finally be together.

Forever.

But until that day comes, he settled on coming to you at night and fucking you before the sun would rise, and before your husband would come home. Leaning himself back onto the bed, your body pressed flush against his, caging him in. But he wouldn't dare leave you, not when you're so needy for him, not when he's so needy for you.

"Take these clothes off, Remmi." You whimpered out between fevered kisses, his cold lips cooling down your burning hot skin. Without a word, he did as he was told, leaning up again and shrugging the suspenders off of his shoulders.

His fingers skillfully unbuttoned his shirt, tossing the fabric to the side, your hands reached under his wife-beater that clung onto his lean body, feeling the cold yet well trained muscles under your fingertips. Remmick didn't like talking about his life before he'd turned, you always wondered what he did before. Was he carpenter? A farmer? A blacksmith? You wanted him to tell everything about his life, before turning and after.

With a chuckle he tossed the thin undershirt aside too, only wearing his pants now. You leaned in and kissed his neck, where his pulse would be. But there was nothing, you couldn't feel a heartbeat or the heat. He was dead, truly dead. But that didn't stop you from sucking on his neck, your lips grazing the gold chain that hung around his neck. You knew the mark you'd leave would rapidly heal, disappearing as if you hadn't kissed there at all.

Lightly, he moved you off of his lap, laying your body onto the soft plush of the bed. Causing you to whine from the sudden disappearance of his touch, Remmick shook his head playfully as he unzipped his pants, kicking his heavy boots off in the process. With swift movements he pulled his pants along with his boxers off of his lower half, freeing his dick from the tight confines of his pants.

You moaned in pleasure at the sight of him fully nude, your eyes gazing at his dark brown happy trail that lead towards his hard member. You then tucked your legs underneath yourself, your hands reached for him as you began to lightly stroke his thick shaft.

"Now it's my turn to taste you." You whispered, placing a light kiss on the flush tip of his cock, you filled your open and bloody mouth with him. The familiar and comforting taste of him sparked a carnal fire within you. Nimble fingers maneuvered up and down on the base of his cock, Remmick was thick, you could barely fit him in your mouth but that didn't stop you from trying. The twisting expression of pleasure that adorned his face sent shockwaves of fulfillment through your body.

Squeezing your thighs together to ease the ache of arousal between your legs, you pushed your mouth deeper onto his cock, tasting the precum that danced deliciously on your tongue. Remmick's toned body twitched above you from the sudden sensation, your tongue skillfully swirling the sensitive skin on the tip of his cock.

"Yes, yes...Just like that, baby." Remmick groaned, his calloused hand massaged your scalp as the other held onto your shoulder, his cold touch made your skin taunt with goosebumps. Looking down he made eye contact with you, his ruby eyes peering deep into yours as his bloodstained lips hung opened slack, you knew he was trying his best not to buck his hips into your mouth.

Long lashes blinking with each inch your bravely took into your mouth, gags reverberated from your lungs. The vibrations of them made Remmick choke out a strained moan, his hands ran through your hair, moving it out of the way as your soft tongue grazed the thick veins on his cock.

His cries of pleasure egged you to go deeper, pushing yourself pass your limits and with a gag, you pulled away from him. Catching your breath as tears streamed down your face, you continued pumping him as the slick sound of your hand working over his cock that was covered in your spit echoed through the scorching hot room. His calloused hand wiped away the tears that clung onto your warm cheeks.

"You did such a good job for me, darlin'. Don't hurt yourself, c'mere." Remmick praised, pulling you up by the arms as he planted a sloppy kiss onto your swollen lips, tasting himself on your tongue as he did so. Moaning into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto the vampire as if he'd disappear at any moment. Slowly Remmick placed you onto your back on the soft bed, not breaking the passionate kiss as he hovered over you.

"My turn again." He chuckled as he laid on top of you, balancing his body weight to make sure that he didn't crush you, but even if he did - you wouldn't care. His lips kissed and sucked at your neck, focusing on the thick artery that pumped your blood through you, his tongue slowly licking the vein which earned a cry of approval from you.

A strong hand grabbed your breast through your nightgown, rolling the sensitive nipple between cold fingers. He lightly grazed his sharp teeth against the skin of your neck, teasing you as you shivered underneath the man. The scratching sensation of his teeth against your skin was quickly replaced with soft suckles.

"Baby, y-you can't leave any marks on me, he'll get upset with me." You breathlessly reminded Remmick, which earned you a disappointed sigh of defeat. Crawling down slowly, he left a trail of kisses on your clothed body, leaving behind bloodstain kisses on the gown. You know it'll be hard to wash out later, but that annoyance is for another time. Remmick paused his kisses and stopped at your dripping core.

"Why you ain't wearin' no panties?" He asked, a playful under tone laced within each word he spoke, hiking your nightgown up until your lower half was visible for him and you to see.

"I'm tired of you tearin' through them, I figured this'll be easier."

"Awe, but that's my favorite part."

"Hush up." You playfully chastised, a giggle fell from your lips as he shot you a bloody yet gorgeous smile. His rough hands held onto your thighs as he spread your legs, feeling his breath on your aching pussy made you shiver in anticipation, your hands ran though his dark brown hair, making his already messy hair even messier.

With a gentle lick Remmick ran his tongue slowly across your already soaking pussy, stopping to circle at your clit with his skilled tongue. Steadily he repeated his movements, taking in and savoring the sweet taste of your juices that replaced the delicious iron flavor of your blood. You were the sweetest girl he'd ever tasted in all his years of 'living' - and if you'd let him - he could eat your pussy until the sun came up, not caring about getting caught by your husband.

With a moan, you arched your back in pure bliss as Remmick sucked at your sensitive and swollen bud. His fingers slowly working their way inside you, he wanted to make sure you were ready for him; he wasn't the type of man to rush things like this.

"R-Remmi--Ah!" Your moans were muffled by your hand that covered your mouth, your teeth biting into your fingers as Remmick worked over your core. His mouth and tongue worked in tandem with each other which created a sensation that was slightly overbearing, but you enjoyed every last minute of it.

Remmick was a selfless lover.

Pulling away from your heat Remmick gently pushed two fingers inside of you, stopping at the middle of his fingers, just below the second joint of the thick digits. You squirmed underneath him, already feeling somewhat full by just his two fingers alone, and he hadn't even pushed them in all the way yet. Slowly, he moved his fingers in and out, the wet sound of your sex filled the bedroom which only aroused Remmick even more, but he knew to have patience.

Resting his head on your inner thigh, he looked up at you, and of course he was smiling like a fool. "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm, so good..." You moaned out a strained reply.

Remmick then pushed his fingers further until they were all the way in, his knuckles slightly grazing your swollen clit. Your legs were beginning to shake which only urge him to move his fingers faster, licking your clit between each thrust his fingers gave you. Sweaty hands were now gripping the bedsheets as your breathing quickened, the familiar feeling of a knot in your stomach began to bubble, you knew you were close.

With a heaving chest, you begged your Remmi to go faster, whimpering his nickname that you gave him through cries of pleasure. And with closed eyes and a racing heart you came.

Hard.

Your body shook as sweat clung onto your spent frame, your legs shaking as if you'd been running through thick swamp water. Remmick leaned back as he continued to rub your clit, earning a whine of pleasure from this action. Without fail that knot within your stomach quickly formed and quickly snapped, making you squirt all over the bedsheets and Remmick's heaving chest.

"Good job, pretty girl. Good job." Remmick praised, holding you steady as your body convulsed in pleasure mixed with overstimulation. Embarrassment soon then followed, never in your sheltered life have you squirted before, you didn't even know if you could do it. Crossing your legs to shield your pussy from Remmick's intense gaze - you blurted out an apology - hands covering your face as you did so.

"What're you apologizin' for?" Remmick asked, pulling your hands away from your face, licking his lips to savored the taste that danced on his tongue.

"I-I got carried away, I didn't mean to--I never--"

"Nonsense, sugar. It only means that I did somethin' right." He assured as he leaned down to kiss you on your lips, you could taste yourself as you sank deeper into the kiss, your hands holding onto Remmick's cold yet comforting body. This make-out session was more intense than the last, as you bit down on Remmick's swollen lips, this kiss felt as if it were a battle.

But both parties wouldn't mind losing.

"Fuck me, please..." You begged, your fingers playing with the golden necklace that hung across his neck. With an obedient nod he grabbed his cock at the base, lining himself towards your entrance. You looked down and watched as Remmick slowly entered you, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he did so. Shutting your eyes you grabbed onto Remmick, your nails digging into his pale skin.

He was stretching you out and the sting of pain and pleasure flooded your senses. Remmick moaned into your shoulder, his once southern drawl now melted into that of an Irish one, soft hymns from his homeland slipped pass his mouth as he rocked his hips back and forth, earning high-pitched grunts from you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in, but he wouldn't dream of going anywhere. You were so wet, so soft, so warm. Your body felt like heaven, the pleasure he felt was undeniable - your pussy squeezed around him perfectly. It was as if you were made for him, or perhaps he was made for you.

Your nails scratched and dug into his back, leaving behind scars that'll quickly heal over as if nothing happened. Holding your face in his hand while the other one rubbed your thigh soothingly, easing the tense muscle as much as he can. Both of your eyes were locked onto each other, neither one of you dared to break eye contact as tears of pleasure fell from your hazy irises.

Drool crept down his chin and jaw, and without exchanging any words you open your mouth wide, just like last time. Holding your jaw firmly in his hand he let the trail of drool seep out of his mouth and into yours, earning a whimper of gratitude from you.

You loved the taste of his spit, it was like taking a sip of holy water, you couldn't resist begging him for a taste. Especially when he's fucking you so good like this. Wiping the tears that clung onto your face, Remmick whispered words in his native tongue that you couldn't understand. The language sounded so foreign to your untrained ear, but you knew each word he spoke was filled with adoration and love.

"F-Fuck, I'm almost there," Remmick mumbled switching back to English, although now he spoke in his thick Irish accent. He rested his cold forehead onto yours that was slick with sweat. You nodded in agreement as your words were now reduced to moans and grunts.

"Do you think you can came for me again, one more time?" He asked in between rapid thrust of his hips, his dick hitting the perfect spot within your core.

"Mhm!" You nodded, holding him flush against your body.

"Good..."

With a few more thrust of his hips Remmick sighed out a long 'fuck' as the feeling of come filled your pussy to the brim. Shaking you squeezed your legs in a vice grip, which earned a satisfied chuckle from Remmick. With heavy sighs, the high of reaching your orgasm subsided as your tired body went limp, releasing Remmick from your legs. With a kiss on the cheek and a light pat on your sore leg Remmick laid lazily next to you on the bed.

On his side of the bed.

The sound of cicadas buzzed through the midnight air as both of you stared into each others eyes, your hand reached for his, and he gladly held onto it which helped you anchor back into reality.

"I love you, Remmick." You whispered with a hushed voice, and with a squeeze of his hand he shot you a toothy bloody grin.

"I love you too."

[thevelvetwhispers]

Elias 'Stack' Moore — SINNERS Masterlist

@euon111a — smokestack blues

@crystalgemcrusaders — til death do us part

@writerofautumnnights — a dance with the devil

@livingmybestfakelife — love rollercoaster

@rdmasevi — blood & blues

@aviawrites — love bites

@fckwritersblock — i never told you [part 1]

@fckwritersblock — what i should've said

@cloveroctobers — act right

@raysogroovy — lead astray [part 1]

@notapradagurl7 — his woman

@mrsknowitallll — soon as i get home

@luna-thecreator — glint and gone

@coldeforprez — is it the way

@solastarr — ms. notsoindepentdent

@willyoubemycherryy — no guidance | fyt

@saudad3 — private photoshoot [prison!au]

@boujaeelibrat — dan

@kumkaniudaku — creatures of the night

@pyraomen — jolene, i am a woman too

@bxunyx — mr. wrong

@enticingmelanin — the reckoning

@szatears — fashion killa [modern!au]

@bananafieldnotes — outta control

@spencersmopbucket — daddy's girl

@mereyapalais — les retrouvailles

@theethighpriestess — light my fire

[fckwritersblock]

Sup Yall, I’m Mo! Here’s the need to know:

MOST RECENT DROPS

I NEVER TOLD YOU - elias ‘stack’ moore

DIE WITH A SMILE CH. 4 - eren yaeger

READY OR NOT PT.1 - terry richmond

IN THE WORKS

WHAT I SHOULD’VE SAID ( part 2 of INTY ) - elias ‘stack’ moore

ROOMMATES - trevante rhodes

READY OR NOT P.2 - terry richmond

DIE WITH A SMILE CH. 5 - eren yaeger

CURRENT MASTERLIST

OLD MASTERLIST

[melancholymetropolis]

“I heard the twins were back in town."

My husband’s voice floated about the room as he dried his hair. Bill was only wearing his pajama bottoms and his chest was bare. Stray droplets of water dripped from head, down his pecs and along his abs. I broke my gaze once he pulled a shirt over his bare skin, disturbing my view.

"They are," I sighed, rubbing lotion between my palms. "I saw Stack near the station, while I was picking up the shipment. Along Mary and Preacher Boy."

A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of her name from my lips. I had tried my best to avoid her at all costs. But, just like Stack, she wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. She sent letter after letter to my house. Begging and pleading to have a conversation. Claiming that her guilt was eating her up something fierce and she could barely sleep. 

That was right after Maddie was born. 

She even tried to come over to my house, but Bill stopped her before she could get too close to me. Practically tore her a new one for disturbing my nap after nursing the ever-hungry newborn. 

I knew right then that I wanted to marry him. 

Through the mirror on the vanity, I could see him rise from the bed. His fingers pressed tightly together and a deep frown on his lips. He took small steps toward me, hesitation oozing from his being. Several deep breaths fell from his lips before he met his gaze in the mirror.

"He spoke to you, didn't he?" The look of sadness deepened to one of sorrow. Almost like his soul was aching at the statement.

“He did,” I said, massaging the cream into my neck. “But, your daughter called him ugly and sent him away with a glare.”

The smile turned into a sad smile at the statement. “Fearless little thing. She gets it from you.”

I hummed softly as he reached for the cream and took a dollop from the top. He rubbed it between his palms just like I had moments before. With a firm grip, he kneaded the lotion into my shoulders. My eyes rolled closed as I leaned into his touch and moaned. 

“Baby, I need to ask you something,” Bill said, after a silent moment. “Promise me you won’t be upset.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

I shot from the bench of my vanity and spun around to face him— causing him to stumble back a few steps. “William Chow, explain yourself this minute!”

He raises his hands in surrender and takes another step back. “Baby, you knew this would come up. You always said they would come back home eventually. Part of me thought that meant you wanted to see him again.”

“No,” I snapped back. “That meant that I would have to explain to your daughter why she looks damn near identical to an absolute stranger. Not that I was in love with him!”

“Y/N, we never talk about it,” Bill rebutted, his tone softer than mine. “Not since we first got married. You pretend like the man doesn’t exist and it has left me wondering a few things.”

“Like what?” I interjected. “I will take Maddie and run away with him?”

Bill flinched like I slapped him, but didn’t say a word. 

That was exactly what he thought I’d do.

A lone tear rolled down my cheek as my lip began to quiver. I turned my back to him and placed both palms on the edge of the vanity. A million thoughts swirled in my mind. Images of Stack laying his head on my chest, Mary gloating about how he did the same thing to her, Bill holding my hand during my delivery because Anne was too far away and my baby girl crying for the first time after 12 hours of labor. The vow that I made to her that I would choose a better daddy than her lying, cheating sperm donor. Someone that was kind, patient and full of love; ready to give it away at any moment. 

Someone like William Chow, Bo’s baby brother. A Malaysian immigrant turned baker, damn near identical to his kin with hair past his shoulders. His strawberry and cream donuts were all I ever craved while pregnant. I would gather as much change as I had to snag two at the end of the week, he would alway sneak me an extra one. Bill was the only one to speak to me after it became very obvious I was pregnant. The whole town knew it was Stack’s, since our relationship was hardly private. But, when he left, everyone treated me like spoiled goods. Barely made eye contact and snickered behind my back. Fearing that Stack would shoot them where they stood for looking at me funny.

But, Bill was not scared of any of that. Stack loved his strawberry donuts just as much as I did. Meaning, that Stack would rather cut off his own pinky than cross Bill or the Chow family. 

“After all this time, you still think he has a hold on me?” I whispered as another tear rolled down my cheeks. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“Honey, he can give you things I can’t,” Bill countered. 

The silent part hinted loudly: He could give you more children.

That was William’s only fatal flaw, if one could even count it as such. He was impotent. The possibility of having children together was slim to none, which was why he remained single all that time. Some women wanted a family and others needed a kind of pleasure only a certain an could give. But, that didn’t matter to me. Sex wasn’t a deal breaker for me. I had learned that sex didn’t mean love, nor affection. It was a simple pass time that felt good. It didn’t hold emotion, unless you wanted it to. And like an idiot, I held enough emotion for Stack and I both. Yet, it still wasn’t enough to make him stay. 

We had tried all kinds of herbs, old wives tales and remedies, but it hardly ever worked. His member would stiffen, but not long enough to really have fun. Still, I didn’t care. Bill more than made up for it with his mouth and fingers. He would have me screaming all the way to sunrise.

I turned to face him. I could see tears starting to form in his eyes. His tanned skin turned a faint red, as he pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle his whimpers. Bill’s shoulders shook with sadness as his chest rose and fell rapidly. The sheer thought of losing me, of losing Madeline, was tearing him apart at the seams. I had never seen him cry until that moment and it broke my heart.

I took several strides over to him, leaving a foot of space between us. “Can I hold you, baby?”

“Please,” he sobbed, lifting his head.

I took a final step and pressed my body against his. My head resting on his shoulder and my arms hugging his upper back. Bill gripped my waist with a pressure that was almost painful, but it didn’t bother me. I knew he needed me close.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I’d lose you two,” he whimpered into my hair. “I don’t  think I would survive, Y/N. I truly do not.”

“I would’ve been maggot food if it weren’t for your generosity all those years ago,” I said, rubbing his back. “No man was willing to marry an already pregnant woman. Let alone the broken possession of the Moore twins. Only you would talk to me. Not only talk, but smile. God, your smile would be like sunshine on a rainy day. It kept me warm for hours.”

Bill’s whimpering stopped, but his hold was still firm. “You don’t have to lie, Y/N.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Bill. Not once since we’ve met,” I said, drawing circles on his back. “I’m not about to start now. I love you far too much to let a criminal come between us.”

He pulled back gently and faced me. Tears streaming down his face, he looked at me like I was his entire world and it broke my heart. I brought a hand to his face and placed it on his damp cheek. He leaned into the palm and placed a hand atop mine. His eyes fluttered closed as a shaky breath fell from his lips. Bill's entire body relaxed at my unwavering presence. The floodgates were completely lowered as the tears continued to fall from his eyes. But I knew they weren't for sadness or desperation, like before. These were tears of relief and compassion.

“I love you, William Chow,” I said once our eyes finally met. “More than you'll ever know. More than I can put in words.”

“You are my world,” he replied, pressing his forehead to mine. “And Madeline is my sun. I would be dark and lonely without you both.”

A tear spilled from my eye, which he caught with his thumb and swiped away. His lips were on mine before I could blink. Our bodies pressed together so tightly we could crack an egg. He held me in his arms if I would disappear at any given moment. Kissed me like I would be stolen away from him. The action made the tears pour faster. Our hands gripped each other's clothes before the desire to tear them off struck. 

My hands slithered up his pajama top slowly. Fingers brushing his toned abdomen and structured hips. My touch moved from front to back— I dragged my nails against his lower spine. Bill shivered at my touch and moved his kisses from my lips to my neck. A gasp escaped my mouth as his tongue licked a sensitive part of my neck. A moan followed shortly after as teeth found that vein and dragged it across it. A lovely nip earned him another moan. His hand kneaded my soft rear as he sucked the delicate skin of my neck. His hips ground into mine and I felt his member between us. Stiff and ready to use. 

“Tell me how you want me, suga,” he purred in my ear. “My head between your legs.” Bill’s hot tongue ran across my ear. “You sitting that pretty pussy on my face.” He gave it a little nip. “Or, we see if the new herbs are really up for the challenge.” He ground his hips into me once more and I moaned loudly. 

“Yes,” I replied, breathlessly. “All of the above.”

------------------------

a/n: where did all of y'all come from?! i did not expect this but hey! i'm happy you're here! once again, let me know if you wanna be in the taglist. Smut will be in the next chapter.

also, bear with me. i might not be able to post regularly, but i will try my best to post often.

Part III

----------------------

Taglist

@lov4gor3 @marley1773 @thegreatlibraryofalex @beverly-991 @depressedandhornyfl @rollingraypurrr @mea-bby @heyyimmisunderstood @harleycativy @childishgambinaax @mskirara @bishhhitsaurion @daughterofapollo-7 @thickianaaaa @capswife @hrlzy @melodyofmbaku @skywalker0809 @asterizee @nooooonooooonooooo @jackierose902109 @wabi-sabi1090 @rolemodelshit @naebae14 @christinabae @thedondada05 @simpingfor-wakasa @lovesickbwnny @brattyfics @saintsir4n @abriefnirvana @tforpresz @sinflowersugar

[innorality]

reconciliation with stack after the argument (part one here)

(part two of the angsty post I made)

you felt silly, truly. you honestly could not believe yourself as you walked towards Club Juke, their club—his club, holding onto the fur coat he had formely stolen for you. when you walked out after the argument, you had sworn to yourself that you would forget about him for good. screw him and his perfect smile, his honey-coated voice and his warm, familiar embrace.

truth is,

you felt ill without him.

7 years. it's been seven years since you had last seen him, and now that he's finally back, you had this underlying feeling that you couldn't just scream at him and leave. you needed him too much.

your heels dug in the grass below your feet as you walked hesitantly, finally getting to the door where Cornbread was standing. "now, that's a face I haven't seen in a while. how you been, sugar?" his deep husky voice comforting you, you smiled. "I don't... i don't really know." your fingers tightened against the fur of your coat. "I get it. it's been a long time." he walked down the two stairs that separated the both of you, getting closer to you.

"stack told me about the argument. i told him that no amount of money could teach him how to properly talk to a woman. that man's a true pain in the behind, ain't he?" his hand landed on the top of your head, petting it while you giggled. "hell yeah, he is."

"don't work yourself up, sugar. get in there and have fun, yeah?" you nodded and he stepped back, letting you in.

the loud music that was being played by a local band hit your ears, but you paid no mind. you headed straight for the bar, and sat infront of grace who was already grabbing a glass for you. "didn't expect to see you here." she commented, "nobody did." you shot back. "beer?" she went for the bottle and opened it, "please." you nodded.

"hope you've got some real coins to pay. all we get from the people here are wooden ones." she poured you a glass and slid it towards you, but a masculine voice echoed from behind you, overcoming the loud music with ease.

"it's on the house, for her." you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "if stack says so," grace shrugged, walking towards another client, leaving the two fo you alone.

you couldn't even get a sip of your beer before his hands slid around your jaw, cupping your jaw. he leaned down next to your ear. "you came." he affirmed, as if to confirm it to himself. "I had to see the club for myself." "and?" "definitely not worth the seven years." he quickly pecked your cheek before letting go of you and sitting next to you.

"you're still on about that." he looked straight at you but you refused to give him the pleasure of seeing your eyes. "how could I not?" and he surrendered, "you're right. i'm sorry." that caught your attention. stack was never one to admit he was at fault, and that realization made you turn to him slowly.

"i'm sorry for everything. for disappearing. for being so superficial. for not writing. for not even saying goodbye." he scooted over next to you and grabbed your waist, closing the distance between the two of you. he pressed his forehead against yours and your gaze flickered down to his lips.

"I love you." he mumbled. "say that again." "I love you."

"again."

"I love you."

"one more time."

"I love you more than anything else in the world."

you bit your lip and chewed slightly. you were torn between smashing the glass cup that was next to you on his head, and kissing him like you needed him to breath.

"fuck." you sighed out, looking back up at his eyes. "what?" he chuckled. "I really want to kill you, as of right now. but I also really, really, want to kiss you." and he smiled wider. that damn smile. "they say the line between hatred and love is blurry like fog."

"don't ever leave me again, elias." and you saying his name like that made his stomach twist in adoration, he really fucking misses you. "never again, I promise." and finally, he leaned in to kiss you. he pressed his lips against yours and you mirrored him, your arms snaking around his neck to cage him in.

you were weak for stack.

you were weak for elias moore just as much as he was weak for you.

[brownskincheyenne]

Everybody love Annie and smoke until it’s time to write fanfic 😭 it’s so many smoke x reader or smoke x you smoke x black female oc .. and then characters be the same as Annie with a different name 😭🤦🏾‍♀️

[k5bain]

Black is truly beautiful😮‍💨🤩

[junkiex0]

Whispers of Hunger

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

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

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

Until you met him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who…who are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t have to ask twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cindol]

ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ thinking of the concept of vampire wifeys vampire mikasa and vampire fem black reader is something i adore and i think they’d be so couple goals in the weirdest way actually ! ( blurb . )

mikasa ackerman x black fem reader

🐇̱ ꩜ — black fem reader, slightly ooc mika, slight body horror, mika dismembers a man but it’s not too detailed, very much “happy gf and her dark gf” core, slight inspiration from noseferatu,

a/n — tmblr pls don’t flag this just because its a girl with boobs in the pic. Thank yaaaa

though eternal, your love with mikasa throughout the 600 years never faded, only blossomed more. You both weren’t forced into this corner of one turning the other into a vampire. It was a mutual agreement telling mikasa to bite you, affect you. And it was the best decision you made six hundred years ago.

when it came to blood, mikasa was always the provider in the relationship for that. She knew how you got with blood in the past. You were always more of the type of vampire who liked your blood from a glass rather than a freshly cold corpse.

mikasa herself relished in hunting for you. She didn’t show it in her facial expression but there was something so primal about it that she loved, gave her a love for the old days of hunting.

Really it was the dressing up she liked. Faking a faux country accent and dressing in a plaid red tied up blouse with some cut jean shorts and brown boots to put the entire get up together. She always tricked the men she thought deserved it the most, strolling through town, just observing the town folk of the small town and lurking after the most scummy of men.

because when she’d drag a scumbag into the quiet woods she’s sure nobody would care. Probably would too enamored in their own conversations to even hear it. Mikasa’s job was never just done at killing the man too.

this was really just the norm for the both of you, living in some mansion in the woods. While mikasa chopped this poor mortal man up to drain him you sat in the clean pristine living room, sipping some blood from your wine glass while mikasa worked on getting you some more.

because that’s what couples do.