theoats99 - Tumblr blog

theoats99 · 27 days ago

Text

You Will Always Be My Heart

Remmick X Female!Reader

Summary - Hunters are in town, of course for Remmick. He'd been too careless, killed to many, and now they threaten the life you two have together.

Warnings! NSFW, for both themes and for smut. This has death in it, fairly graphic as well, blood and brains, creampie, blood licking, guns. General cannon typical violence.

Note - I think this is the filthiest thing I've ever posted, note I have written worse but my own shame keeps me from posting it lol. Remmick is pouty in this, and I heavily took inspiration from both a scene in LCL and True Blood season three for the sex scene. Enjoy!

Word count - 4,806

Remmick has been moping all day, hunters were in town, because of him of course. He’d been too careless these past two months, he’d gone into town to feed, found some unexpecting boy and when he drained him he saw everything. He saw how the boys' family were ex klan members, he saw what they were planning to do, but of course this was all told to you by Remmick. He very rarely spoke about his feedings to you, he’d told you it was best that you were kept in the dark about it, but when he had gotten home from that feeding he’d spilled everything to you.

So then it had begun, with each night his hunger was too much another one of them died, something you yourself didn’t find too bad but obviously people in town had started to whisper. They spoke about how the bodies were found mangled, throats gashed with something that looked like teeth marks from some rabid animal, nobody thought some monster of the night did it but that didn’t stop the strangers from appearing.

They walked politely, sternly, like robots. Stopping folks on the streets and by the markets to ask about unusual things, like if their livestock was being killed, or if anyone new had come around, anyone mysterious. You’d seen them in town just last week, three of them walking in the square questioning folks.

They had no accent, no southern drawl and that worked in yours and Remmick's advantage. People around here didn’t trust outsiders, especially those who didn’t sound like them.

“Would you stop your sighing?” You practically hiss at the old vampire, who just glares back at you. This had been your life for the past two weeks, ever since the hunters showed up. You’d begged Remmick to stay at the house, to just wait them out, if he didn’t leave and feed they wouldn’t be able to track and find him, he’d be safe and they’d leave. But of course they hadn’t left, they stowed away in the closest motel, waiting.

“I’m hungry darlin’.” His voice is like a whip, sharp and dry as it reaches your ears. You walk to the living room where he is lounging, upside down mind you, on your plush chair. He looks mad, eyes sharp and brows pointed, that familiar glint taking over his usual rustic blues.

“It’s not my fault you killed too many people, Remmick!” Your exasperated voice reaches his eyes earning you an eye roll, the old vampire is acting like a child who’d just been told he couldn’t go to the lake with his friends. He sits up and walks out of the room, grumbling something under his breath. “And maybe Remmick, if you’d ask I could feed you but no you're just being stubborn.” You yell back, but all you're greeted with is the sound of the bedroom door closing and locking.

Remmick had denied any offer of your blood the first few days, agreeing with you that staying in would be best, he’d done it many times before with hunters. And he’d told you that while yes, your blood was indeed very tasty to him, the fear in his victims was an added factor. When he drained people he got everything from them, and the fear was the frosting on the cake, something he never wanted to taste in your blood.

With a heavy sigh you make your way back to the kitchen to continue working on your dinner, attention back on the pot in front of you when a soft knock echoes through the house. You tense immediately, you yourself were new to this town, only living in Delta for just over a year, you didn’t know anyone well enough to have them over, especially unannounced visitors, and especially this late.

Your feet feel heavy as you toe to the hallway, another knock has your heart racing, you grab your rifle, the same one you’d held against Remmick all those months ago, and open the door.

“Hello ma’am.” A young man is in front of you, only separated by the screen door. He’s tall, blond, with striking green eyes. His lips stretch into a smile, warm, fake. “Good evening, my name is-”

“I don’t care to know your name sir.” You snap, hand dragging the weapon up, bracing it against your chest. “I also don’t care to have strangers on my property, I especially don’t care for visitors this late.” Your voice is hard, and hearing it is jarring to your ears, just how different it sounds. The man raises his hands up, his smile still there just more playful now.

“I really am sorry, I just wanted to ask some questions.” You scoff at him, his voice is flat and light, no accent that matches anything from around here. He’s one of them, one of the people after Remmick.

“You’d better be sorry, and you’d better leave.” You snap again, his smile drops slowly, his lips pursed in a thin line. You almost shudder at the change in his demeanor, but hold it together for the sake of face.

“Ma’am, I know you're new around here, the people in town told me. They think you're nice, kind, that you’d help anyone you could.” His entire demeanor is different now, he’s speaking like he knows you, even his voice drops as he speaks to you. “But I think you're hiding something.” He leans in when he says it, his breath is fanning the screen door. “And I know you won’t kill me, I don’t think you have it in you.”

“You sure seem to think you know me, but you don’t, and neither do the people in town.” He smiles again, but this one is genuine.

“I think you're kind, I can see it in your eyes. I just worry that something could take advantage of that.” He muses. “But I’ll leave if you really want, but I’m gonna stop by tomorrow, that way it’s announced.” He smiles again before heading off. You shut the door, securing both locks.

You shake in place for a moment, fear coursing through you with the barrier between you and the stranger, you pant as you peer out the window of the dining area and watch him walk away. Then your fear turns to panic and you're sprinting to the bedroom door trying the knob. It’s still locked, you bang on the door. “Remmick!” You bang more and more, with a frustrated whine you run to the kitchen looking for the key. You tear apart each drawer until you find it, utensils and gadgets fly all around you cluttering the floor as you search. With the key in hand you nearly trip running back to the room, unlocking and falling inside it.

“Remmi-!” You stop dead in your place, the room is empty, the pitch black curtains drawn aside, and the window is open. The gust that hits you is like a tidal wave, cool against your sweating skin, and a sob leaves your throat. You crumble against the floor, hand over your chest, your knees press into the hardwood below you, and the room feels like it’s both spinning and collapsing in on you in real time. The sounds leaving your throat are desperate, pleading.

The hunter just left, and Remmick must have left when he locked the door, they could run into each other, that man could hurt Remmick. You stumble up, speeding over to the second bedroom.

You grab your bag, stuffing all the bullets you had into it before grabbing your gun again and running out the door. You’d grown up hunting, being your fathers only child, he’d taught you everything about protecting yourself. You sprint into the night trying so hard to think about where he could have gone, what places he liked to hunt, but with each thought of him you see him bloodied and dying by the hands of those men.

You're on the main road, not all too far from town, when you see lights, you sprint into a ditch as the car passes, the driver being another one of those strangers. It slows and turns into a side road, you can see the light get further away until they stop. As you make your way over you observe the area, it’s an old farm, the house is in shambles, half fallen apart. But the barn not too far from it is mostly together, the door is swung open and you can hear voices from inside.

“So what did she say?” This voice is gruff, hoarse.

“She didn’t say anything, and honestly I don’t know if she even has the fucking monster.” It's the same voice that came to your door. “She’s hiding something for sure, but that could be anything to do with why she moved here. I’m heading back there tomorrow, hopefully if I show up in the light she’ll be more willing to talk.” The other voice hums.

“Maybe, but don’t let your guard down, these fucking monsters can change people, make normal good folks into their puppets.” The thought is revolting to you, the idea that Remmick would change you into something pliable, something to use is absurd.

You turn your head as you hear another car coming, sinking deeper into the neglected grass, another man comes out, opening the trunk to drag something large out. It hits you then that it’s a person, bound in fabric, limp.

“I got it!” The man exclaims. “I saw it walking down the road, tried talking to it, it tried sweet talking to me but I got it!” The man sounds excited as he throws the bundle against the dirt, the other two leave the barn to join their friend, unraveling the fabric to show Remmick.

The sight is horrific, he’s bound in silver chains that wrap over his whole torso and then some, you can see the sizzling of his skin from your hiding place, see his glowing red eyes. It’s hard to stop the sob that nearly threatens to leave you, both of your hands pressing over your mouth to silence it, the creature you love is in front of you in danger. Even if you killed one of the the other two would find you, reloading the gun would take long enough that you’d be done for.

You just simply watch as they haul him to his knees, something resembling a hiss leaves him, the scene being lit by the lights from the car. “I promise ya fellas, I’m only just a man going for a walk.” Remmick snarks them.

“No, you're a monster who killed ten folks in four months.” The older man says, his hand going to his belt fingers grazing over the gun. It feels like time goes slow as you watch the older man take the gun out, his finger hovering over the trigger. “And tonight you're gonna die.”

It’s alarming really, how quickly you aim the gun, how quickly the shot leaves the barrel, and how quickly his body falls to the ground. His blood gushing from the exposed skull, brain spilling onto the dirt. You blink a few times, hands still clasping onto the rifle, barely believing what you’ve done, it all seems like an out of body experience. That is until the other two look in your direction, then reality hits you like the bullet hit that man, swiftly and harshly pulling you back down.

You scramble back, starting to run away. You hear them scream at each other as you run behind the barn, head whipping to look for anything to help you. You spot a broken window, climbing through, the glass tearing into your skin and skirt leaving a gash on your thigh, it’s nothing critical but it still hurts all the same. You scramble up the ladder to the upper level of the barn, the wood is old and warped, bending under your feet. You quickly reload the gun, waiting for one of them to enter, no, praying that one of them enters.

You spot a shadow outside the window, muttered voices, then the glass breaks away with a shot of a gun, the man who pulled Remmick out is entering. You don’t have to wait long before he gets into range, your bullet slices through his throat, blood pours out of it as he falls to the ground, then the blonde is running over. He’s holding his hands to his friend's throat, whispering something to him and he points to you, the blonde whips his head up.

Your eyes connect, you don’t even have time to attempt to reload the gun before his own is aimed at you and fires.

It doesn’t land, but it gets close enough, you stumble to your feet but the old wood gives beneath you. With a yell your back hits the ground, and it feels like someone reached into your chest and stole your lungs for a minute, the blonde hovered over you, weapon trained on you, tears running down his face. You kick his knee and he drops with a yell, you attempt to sit up, eyes frantic as you search for your rifle, but his hand is in your hair and he yanks harshly. He pulls you up and throws you back, your back colliding with old pieces of metal, the clash is loud on your ears, your body aches against the pile, no doubt creating more injuries.

He places his foot on your chest, forcing you down, your eyes are darting all around you and when you do spot your gun it's on the other side of the barn, you look up at him, those green eyes filled with hate looking down at you. “Why?” He spits at you, you slump against the scraps that are digging into your skin, just staring at him.

“I love him.” Is your answer, it’s your truth, the only truth that makes any sense to you lately. You love Remmick, you love the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, the way he makes you laugh. You love the stories he tells you, those of worlds long forgotten, the stories of old gods and men who thought they were gods, stories of wars and plagues. You love the way he helps you around the house, the way he helps in the garden, the way he helps fix things around the house without even being asked. You love the way his lips worship you, like your sacred, the way he pulls things from you you’d never felt before.

It’s not good enough for the man, his foot coming off your chest and his hand going back into your hair dragging you up. “If you fucking love it then you can die with it.” He snarls into your ear, you stumble up and out the barn with him, he tosses you towards Remmick who looks frantic. His eyes are wide, filled with something you’d never seen in him before, real genuine fear.

“Your fucking sick, no your fucking disgusting.” He continues at you, his gun waving with his hands, he pushes you to your knees, your hands bracing the fall. Your whole body aches from the fall, your thigh pulses as you feel more blood gush from the cut, and your hands are scraped and bruised, your whole face throbs and you can feel a cut on your lip from one of the many falls. You bring your head up to level with Remmick’s, he’s only maybe a few feet from you now. He looks guilty, like a child with his hand caught in the snack jar, his head cocks to the side, his mouth opening.

“”M sorry.” He says, but the hunter kicks him, forcing Remmick to his side, the silver still burning at his skin, a warm sounding sizzling as it digs further into him.

“Your a fucking monster, a thing that has no fucking heart. So stop acting.” The man roars, but Remmick is still looking at you, and you can’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks. “Your fucking sick for loving this thing, for thinking that some monster is capable of it.” You shake your head at him.

“He’s not a fucking monster!” You roar back, eyes set on the blonde. “He’s the man I love, and I’m glad I killed your friends, I would do it again if I had to! And this time I’d even fuckin’ enjoy it!” He stalks back over to you, with adrenaline coursing you rush up and push his hand as the gun fires, you yell as you wrestle with him trying to kick at his legs again. You rush your head to his hand and bite down, with a yell he drops the gun as his skin breaks against your teeth, you rush for the discarded firearm.

With the taste of his blood on your tongue you hold the revolver to him, both of your hands firmly on the weapon, he’s holding his gushing hand as he peers at you.

He doesn’t look scared, or worried, he looks defeated. He looks like a man who is already coming to terms with his demise.

“You don’t understand, I have to do this.” You try, he leans in closer, as if daring you to just pull the trigger. “You don’t understand what he means to me.” You sob, but before the words can leave his parting lips you shoot. The bullet pierces between his eyes, his body slumping back into the dirt, a few twitches then he’s gone.

You stand there, whole body shaking as you drop the gun, falling to your knees as you sob out. You steel your emotions enough to crawl over to Remmick, helping him up and starting to unwrap the chains. The chains are covering him wholly, bound as his wrist, ankles, and his whole torso keeping his arms in place behind him. Once you free his wrists his hands are quick to help you free the rest of him, with the chains around his torso gone his hands fly to your face.

His fingers are bruising as they grip into the skin of your cheeks, his lips smash to yours, you cry into it, both from relief and pain.

His lips are frantic, like he’s telling you how sorry he is with them, his arms wrap around you holding you close and it feels like an apology. You want to break away, yell and scream at him about how he could have died, how if he had just listened to you none of this would have happened, but at the moment you can’t bring yourself to do it. You succumb to him then, whole body slumping against his own, he groans into it as his tongue goes over your lips and into your mouth.

“I can taste him on you.” He growls the words out, angry and jealous sounding. You just look at him, the lights from the car are still on, lighting him in a way that makes him look heavenly. You close your eyes and lean back into him, forehead resting against his own, his hands are bruising on your hips. He’s gripping you close to him, hands traveling down your thighs when he feels the slick blood on your thigh. “Those bastards cut you?” Another growl, deep, primal sounding.

“No.” You laugh, eyes opening again. “It was from a broken window.” He doesn’t seem at all satisfied with the answer, backing from you to lift the torn material to look at the cut, he eyes you with a frown as his fingers run over the split flesh as you wince.

He looks at you, those bright red shining eyes, and pushes you to sit on your rear. Once you move back he pushes the material up, fully taking in the damage on your lower half. You watch his eyes on your bruised and scabbed knees, then they trail to a dark purple bruise on the top of one of your thighs, then his eyes land on the blood. The blood had trailed all the way down your leg, he runs his hand up the stream smearing what was still liquid until he reached the cut.

Now that you can see it clearly it doesn’t look as bad as you’d feared, while yes it’s large it likely won’t require stitches and will likely require less movement as it heals. Remmick shifts you to your hip, your cut facing up as you brace on your elbow to keep your upper body up. And once his lips press to it you jolt, a gasp leaving your throat, followed by a pang of sick desire in the pit of your body. It feels sickening, watching as he licks the dried blood off of your exposed thigh, it feels disgusting that when his tongue reaches the wound you feel a wetness pool in you followed by a breathy moan.

One of his hands is on your rear cheek, the other going up the inside of your thigh getting closer and closer to your core as he cleans your thigh. Your arm feels weak below you, barely able to keep your torso up as everything just starts to feel like it’s becoming too much. When his fingers reach your core, soaking through the panties you're wearing, he groans into your thigh. His face coming up from it, your blood smeared all over his lips. He moves quickly, yanking your panties down and undoing his belt, pulling them down just enough.

He’s already hard, his erection stands angry and red as he jerks himself in his palm. He hovers over you, positioning you to your back again, and slides in. It should feel wrong, it should feel gross and disturbing, having sex here surrounded by the death of three men. But as he buries himself to the hilt you can’t help but feel relaxed, because it feels like home the way his breath fans over your face, it feels like home the way he pulses inside of you. And when he starts to move it feels fantastic, the ache in your body is gone as he pulls back just to slam back in, his pace is rough, frantic.

Usually Remmick loved you tender, slowly fucking into you. Mostly because, and he’d never once said it aloud, you theorized he was scared of his own strength. But right now it’s all out the window, his restraint is shattered away as he slams into you, like with each slam of his pelvis against your own he’s telling you how worried he was for you. He’s leaning over you, eyes searching every pore on your face, an undeniable relief over his features.

“I’m sorry.” He says against your lips, his elbows on either side of your head. “‘M sorry.” He says again, hips slamming against yours. You're already close, hands gripping onto his forearms, nails scrapping his shirt. “‘M so sorry.” He pants out, he sounds desperate, like a man begging for salvation. His apology mixed with the pending orgasm threatening its way out of you has you in tears, hot streams sliding down the sides of your face.

“Remmick.” You moan out, hands moving to his hair gripping the strands between your fingers. “I’m okay, it’s okay.” You whimper out, tears still streaming steadily out your eyes but this time purely from the stimulation he’s pounding into you.

He groans out, head dipping into your neck, and with a few more snapping thrusts your crying out, your core clamping onto him. He follows you after a few more thrusts, shooting inside of you. He doesn’t move, stays completely still above you as your hands play with his hair.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your neck, you can’t help the sigh that leaves you, tugging his hair so he pulls his head up. But he doesn’t budge, staying nestled into your neck like it’s his safe haven.

“Remmick.” Your voice stern, commanding, he finally brings his head up, eyes boring into yours as he waits for you to say something, anything. “I’m okay.” Your hands are resting on his cheeks, he looks over your face.

“Yer the only good thing I’ve ever had.” He whispers. “And tonight I thought I was gonna die, and I just wanted to hear your laugh.” He sounds broken, he sounds the way you feel inside.

“I was so scared.” Your voice quivers, chin pinching, he rests his forehead against yours.

When you both finally separate and he helps you stand your brought back to reality. Three dead bodies are laid out, death that you caused, your eyes linger over all three of them and while you want to feel remorseful you don’t, you would do it all again if it meant saving Remmick.

“‘Cmon, let's get you home.” He picks you up, holding you bridal style as he begins to walk.

“No, wait!” He stops, face peering down at yours, confused look on his face. “What about them?” You ask, it feels silly that he’d already have forgotten about the carnage around you both. Remmick just shrugs, continuing to walk.

“This place is stale, ain’t nobody been here in years, I can smell it. And I can come back tomorrow night and take care of the bodies I swear.” You frown, looking at the old farm as it gets further and further away, you see the lights from the car flicker and go out, leaving the scene in darkness.

“What about their cars? And what if they had someone else who knew they were here, or they tracked us down?” You babble on, but Remmick just chuckles, and you can hear it as much as you can feel it rumble through his chest.

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow, I promise darlin’. But right now all I wanna do is get your home and cleaned up.” Something in your chest blooms, warm and steady like a blanket in winter over your heart. You decide it’s not worth the fight, resting your head to his chest as he carries you home.

True to his word once back he gets the bath going, sitting behind you in the tub until you prune and the water is a murky reddish brown. He closes the window and draws the curtains back securely in place before he joins you in bed, holding onto you with his hand over your heart and his forehead pressed to your neck.

You start to fall asleep like that, his hand tracing little patterns over your chest, right above your heart like he’s trying desperately to leave a brand on your skin. He whispers into your neck eventually, soft, in that voice he hides from the world, the voice that always melts you when it makes an appearance.

“Ye said ye loved me, ye told him he didn’t know what I meant to ye.” Your aching body feels light, euphoric as you nod.

“I do love you.” You whisper, though it comes out closer to a slur as you fight sleep to respond back to him. “I love ya so much.” You say against his hair, you swear you feel his breath hitch as well as his fingers twitch over your chest.

He moves his body down, chin planted over where his hand just was with a look on his face, as though he’s been given the best gift in the world. A look that screams adoration. “I would do anything for ye.” He starts, his hands under your torso holding you to him, as though he’s scared you’ll leave.

“I’d burn this whole town down, kill anyone who pissed ye off, gods I’d even meet the sun if it made you happy.” You believe him, more awake now as you stare into his eyes, he’s wholly serious. “I’d drain this whole world for ye, I’d even starve for ye, I’d go through everything all over again just to be here laying in this bed.”

You want to feel scared, scared that he would do all this for you, but you don’t. You can’t explain the sick pride you feel at his words, how they bring you this sense of relief as the words settle into your chest. Your hands slide to his cheeks, thumbs running just under his eyes, he’s at your mercy, he always has been but now it’s more obvious to you.

You hold a power over him, like he’s your rabid pet and you hold the tether. He melts into your palms, eyes closing followed by a sigh, you can’t help but agree with him. You’d do the same, go through every horrible shitty thing all over again if it meant being here with him.

#remmick #remmick smut #remmick x reader #this was a lot of fun to write #and I love being able to let the freak flag fly with all the blood #and also gotta throw a little cute subby remmick #he'd literally die for you guys

155 notes · View notes