⚠️１８＋ Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ Ａｈｅａｄ⚠️

remmick knocks on your door, a bit nervous. this is his first caretaking job. he’s surprised when he sees you standing in the doorway. you’re beautiful.

"remmick?" you ask. he nods. "h-hope i’m in the right place, ma’m", he says. you nod, smiling. "so.. i’m takin’ care of yer sister, or..?" he asks. you chuckle. "no, silly, it’s me", you say. remmick blushes. "sorry! i didn’t- i didn’t mean to be rude, ya jus’ don’t look-" he stutters. "it’s fine, come in!" you say.

remmick steps in the house. it’s old, the floorboards creak under his shoes as he walks deeper in the house.

"so.. what can i do f’ ya?" he asks. "you could bathe me", you say, grinning. remmick’s face gets a deep flush to it. "i- i", he stutters. "i’m joking!" you chuckle.

"come on", you say, taking remmick’s hand. remmick hesitates for a while before following you. you lead him to a door that seems to lead to a basement. "what are we doin’ here-", remmick starts, but you knock him out.

remmick wakes up with a throbbing headache. he looks around the room, finding himself in a basement. you in the middle of it. naked.

"w-what?" remmick stutters, panicking. he tries to move, but soon realizes that he’s tied up to a chair. the rope feels tight against his bare.. bare skin. he’s naked as well.

"is this a joke?" he asks, tears starting to form in his eyes.

you shake your head, walking up to him. "i was hoping for someone as handsome as you to find me when i put out that ad.." you say.

without hesitation you sit on his lap, spreading your already wet cunt.

remmick looks away, hot tears falling down his cheeks. "aww, don’t cry, handsome", you say, leaning in, licking away his tears. you taste salt.

"let me go! this isn’t right!" remmick cries. "aww, but look at you, you’re hard already", you coo, looking at his dick.

you’re right, he is hard. the tip is red and oozing pre-cum, aching for you to touch it. only thing is that he doesn’t want it.

"c’mon big boy, give mommy a kiss", you coo, leaning in, puckering your red lips.

remmick turns his head, shutting his mouth as hard as he can. you roll your eyes, grabbing his cock, squeezing hard. remmick lets out a cry. that’s when you kiss him, shoving your tongue inside his mouth.

"mhhp!" remmick whimpers, trying to push you away. but you’re way too strong. you keep licking into him, twirling your tongue against his stiff one. remmick refuses to respond to your kiss. you don’t care.

you suck on his lower lip, your wet cunt grinding against his cock. you’re not gonna fuck him, not yet.

mwah

you pull away with a loud smack, a thin line of drool connecting your mouth to his.

remmick’s fully crying now. "aww, big boy, don’t cry, mommy’s gonna take care of you", you purr, kissing away his tears.

"p-please, let me go", remmick whines. you chuckle. "no way, you’re mine now", you say.

you start kissing on his neck, sucking hickeys on his soft, pale skin. he’s trembling from fear and disgust. you descend to his muscular chest, suckling on his nipples that harden instantly under your tongue.

then you move to his belly, kissing and licking on his abs. "quite the body you got, big boy", you coo, licking his bellybutton.

you harshly grab his cock, squeezing the shaft. remmick lets out a cry as you start pumping his cock while kissing and licking on his toned body.

his cock is long and thick, you have a hard time wrapping your hand around it. you can’t wait to get that inside you, must feel incredible.

you’re placing sloppy kisses on his thighs while roughly moving your hand up and down on his cock. remmick’s sobbing, loud and desperate. "cry all you want, honey, not gonna stop me", you say.

his cock is oozing pre-cum. wanting to taste it, you quickly wrap your lips around his tip, swallowing the salty liquid. remmick lets out an involuntarily moan as you start sucking on him, teasing the tip first and then taking his cock all the way inside your throat.

you gag at the size of him, but keep going, eagerly moving your mouth on his dick.

you tease his soft, pink hole by rubbing your finger on it. "n-not there, please", remmick cries. you ignore him as you shove your index finger inside his ass.

remmick bawls as you start pumping your finger in and out of his hole, feeling it clench.

you squeeze his balls, getting more whimpers out of him. you love his voice, the way his whole body trembles under your touch.

you suck faster, lips wrapped tightly around his cock. remmick lets out a loud whimper as he comes, endless amounts of warm, salty cum flooding your mouth. you eagerly swallow everything.

you keep twirling your finger around his warm hole for a while to loosen him up. then you withdraw your finger, licking it.

remmick sniffs, looking at you with a disgusted frown. you chuckle and lean in on his pink hole, licking through it once, twice. then you shove your tongue inside.

he tastes like sweat and warm skin as you twirl your tongue around his soft walls. remmick keeps crying, not wanting any part in this.

"just stop, please", he sobs. you shake your head, continuing licking into him. you’re drooling all over his ass, filthy, wet sounds leaving your lips.

after a few minutes you withdraw your tongue. remmick’s a tear-filled mess. he has a headache from all the crying, he just wants to go home.

"kiss", you coo, leaning in. remmick turns his head again. "you’re being so disobedient”, you chuckle, grabbing his face, making him look at you.

then you force your lips on his. remmick whimpers, tasting himself on your tongue.

as you’re kissing him you start lining up, lifting yourself slightly so that you’re on top of his cock. "no!" remmick cries against your lips.

he’s hard as hell again, even if he just came. you push his tip inside, struggling a bit. "you’re so big", you say, in awe. remmick moans as you manage to get his cock all the way inside you, balls against your ass.

you give him a passionate kiss, despite his resistance. then you start moving, up and down on his cock.

remmick whimpers as his cock reaches your cervix. you let out a moan, rubbing it there. "yeah, fuck yeah", you mewl.

you start riding him with a force so strong remmick can’t get a word out anymore. he just cries and moans, trying to babble something in between thrusts. "s-stop", he manages to blurt out.

you, of course don’t stop, but keep riding him until he’s a drooling mess. snot falls from his nose from crying that much and you lean in, licking it off. remmick flinches from disgust as your tongue laps up his snot, dragging under his nose.

"come for me, big boy", you say, picking up your pace.

and he does. moaning, crying, thick ropes of cum pouring inside your cunt. he’s trembling through the aftershock. you kiss his forehead, sitting on his lap again. you can feel his cum pouring out of your cunt.

"you’re gonna clean me up", you say, starting to release remmick from the ropes. as soon as he’s free he takes a swing at you, trying to use his strength. but you avert his punch, grabbing him, easily throwing him on a thin mattress on the floor.

remmick can’t believe you’re that strong, even though you’re smaller than him.

"keep still now, or i’ll use these", you say, revealing your sharp fangs to him.

a vampire? remmick definitely was not expecting a vampire.

so he stays still, resting on the mattress, trembling.

you climb on top of his face. "please, no.." remmick whines. "shut up and clean me up", you hiss.

you crash on his face, leaking cunt smushed against his mouth. "lick", you demand. remmick whimpers and starts licking his own cum off your cunt.

"put it inside", you say. remmick shudders, but obeys. he shoves his tongue inside your cunt, licking every bit of cum from it.

once you’re satisfied you put your clit on his nose, starting to grind on it. remmick’s still crying, disgusted by the situation.

"fuck.. remmick", you moan, rubbing your clit on his nose, chasing your own release.

"suck it", you order, smushing your clit against his mouth. remmick hesitantly closes his lips around your clit, sucking until he’s out of breath.

you put your whole weight on him, not allowing him to breathe. remmick whimpers and keeps sucking, just hoping you’d cum so that it’d be over.

you start grinding on his face again, rubbing your cunt on his mouth. that’s when you come, hard, squirting on his face. "swallow", you order. remmick obeys, gulping down your fluids.

he thinks you’re done, but you just turn around, putting your ass against his face. "lick the other hole as well", you say. remmick shakes his head. "no way!" he whines.

you grab his hair, yanking his face to your asshole. "lick", you repeat. disgusted, remmick puts out his tongue, starting to draw circles on your puckered hole.

you smush your ass hard against his face, not letting him breathe. remmick pushes his tongue inside, twirling it around your walls. you let out a moan, squirting on him again. he’s drenched with your fluids.

"that’s a good boy", you moan, grinding your ass on his face. remmick stops, out of breath. "did i tell you to stop? keep going or i’ll fucking fart on you", you hiss.

remmick immediately returns to licking into your hole, pushing his tongue as deep as he can, hoping you’d be satisfied.

after some minutes you climb off his face, sanding up. "keep still", you say.

you take something from the table. it’s a huge strap-on. remmick freezes. "no, no, no, no", he cries, shaking his head. "ass up", you order.

remmick sobs and turns around, arching his back. he knows he has no choice in this.

you put the strap on and start lining up with his hole. you shove a finger inside again, trying to loosen him up. but he’s really tight.

you withdraw your finger and lick it, rubbing the spit on his hole. then you start pushing inside.

remmick screams in pain as the strap stretches him open, ruining his pretty little virgin hole. "you had a virgin ass, didn’t you?" you tease him. "not anymore", you add with a grin.

remmick bawls loud as the strap enters all the way, opening him up. it hurts way too much.

you start thrusting, hard, rough, not caring for remmick’s wellbeing.

"it hurts! stop!" remmick cries. you just chuckle, continuing ruining his hole.

his cock is hard again, oozing pre-cum on the mattress. he cries as you hit his prostate, the intense pain mixing with pleasure. he hates that you’re making him feel good, he hates losing control like this. usually it’s him on top of the woman, not the other way around.

"i’m gonna keep you, make a pet out of you", you say, slapping his ass. "you’ll be a good boy for mommy", you add. another slap. and another.

his ass is red by the time you stop spanking him. your fingers are squeezing his hips, long nails digging into his flesh, bruising.

you keep fucking him for several minutes, you have endless stamina after all. remmick comes for the third time, ruining the mattress with him cum.

he’s a crying, drooling mess by the time you stop raping him, withdrawing the strap from his gaping hole.

you flip him on his back, crashing on top of him, forcing a sloppy, wet kiss on his lips. he’s too tired to fight anymore.

then you bring your lips to his neck, nibbling gently. biting hard, you pierce his flesh, drawing delicious blood. remmick screams in pain as you start sucking his blood, gulping it down like it’s the best thing in the world. and to you, it is.

you keep going until remmick passes out. you gently lick the blood from the wound, kissing it.

you give him a blanket, kissing his forehead, waiting for him to wake up. "pretty boy", you murmur.

THERE IT IS! MY FIRST TIME WRITING REVERSE NONCON! I HOPE YALL LIKED IT! I HAVE BEEN GETTING REVERSE NONCON REQUESTS FOREVER AAAA FINALLY

The dreams started three months ago.

You told no one, of course. Your father, Gabriel Van Helsing, had raised you in the shadow of monsters—training you to hunt them, to fear them, to destroy them.

Dreams of a dark figure with pale hands and a voice like velvet wrapped around steel were not something you could confess.

You never saw his face.

In the dream, you stood in a grand hall of black marble and crimson drapery, and he would appear behind you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your neck, his fingers tracing your shoulder with impossible gentleness.

"Come to me," he would whisper, and you would wake with your heart hammering, your sheets tangled, and an inexplicable ache in your chest that felt almost like longing.

The monastery in Budapest was meant to be a simple scouting mission. Your father had gone ahead to track a group of strigoi in the Carpathian foothills, while you stayed behind to gather supplies and speak with the local priests.

You were in the cathedral's archives, dust motes dancing in the shafts of dying sunlight as you pored over centuries-old ledgers, when the temperature dropped.

You looked up.

He stood in the doorway, backlit by the stained glass windows, and for a moment you thought he was merely a shadow given form—a trick of the light. Then he stepped forward, and the breath left your lungs in a rush.

Tall. Impeccably dressed in black that seemed to drink the remaining light from the room.

His dark hair was brushed back from his pale face, making his sharp features stand out.

But it was his bright blue eyes that caught your attention. They looked old, calm, and like they knew far more than they should.

Those eyes. You knew those eyes.

"Hello, little hunter," he said, and his voice was exactly as it had been in your dreams.

Rich. Smooth. Dangerous.

You reached for your weapons—your crossbow, your holy water, the silver stakes at your belt—but your hands wouldn't obey.

Your mind screamed run, fight, survive, but your body remained frozen, held by some force you couldn't name.

He approached slowly, almost leisurely, his boots making no sound against the stone floor. "Do not be afraid," he murmured, and you realized with distant horror that you were not afraid.

You should be.

Every instinct your father had drilled into you since childhood demanded terror, demanded action.

Instead, you felt only the same terrible, magnetic pull you had felt in your dreams.

"You have been waiting for me," he said. It was not a question.

"I don't—" Your voice came out breathless, barely a whisper. "I don't know you."

His lips curved into a smile that was almost tender.

He stopped mere inches from you, close enough that you could smell him—incense and something darker, something that made your head spin.

He reached out, and his cool fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet those impossible golden eyes.

"Your eyes say otherwise, draga mea," he whispered. "I have called to you for months. Night after night. Did you think I could not feel you reaching back?"

The dreams. He had been calling you. The realization should have terrified you, should have broken whatever spell held you motionless. Instead, you felt tears prick your eyes—not of fear, but of some terrible, twisted recognition.

"Who are you?" you managed.

His thumb traced your lower lip, and a shudder ran through you that had nothing to do with revulsion.

"I have had many names. The Order calls me monster. Your father would call me enemy." He leaned closer, his mouth near your ear, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur. "But in my homeland, they once called me Domnul—Lord. And you, my beautiful dreamer, may call me Remmick."

Remmick.

The name resonated through you like a struck bell, and you felt the last of your resistance crumble.

This was wrong.

This was wrong.

He was vampire. Ancient. Deadly.

Everything you had been raised to destroy.

And yet when he stepped back and offered his hand, palm up, like a gentleman inviting a lady to dance, you found yourself reaching for him.

"Come," he said softly, his golden eyes burning with something that looked almost like hunger. "Let me show you what waits in the dark. Let me show you why you have dreamed of me."

Your fingers brushed his, and the contact sent electricity racing up your arm.

You knew, with the clarity of a blade's edge, that you were crossing a threshold from which there was no return.

"Please," you whispered, and you didn't know if you were begging him to stop or to continue.

His smile widened, revealing the sharp points of canines that gleamed in the dying light. "There is no need to beg, dragostea mea," he murmured, folding your hand in his. "Not tonight."

As he led you toward the shadows, you realized with distant horror that you were not his prisoner.

You were going willingly.

And worse still—you had never wanted anything more.

The heavy wood of the door, slots carefully into it's worn, splintered frame as Remmick steps over the threshold. He tries to be quiet as he makes his way through the kitchen, taking extra care not to wake you, who he thought was upstairs fast asleep. Tucked into bed just like he had left you.

Tracking blood down the hallway and towards the stairs.

The light at the bottom of the stairs flicks on, and highlights his guilt in it's spotlight.

His eyes close in defeat, and he huffs in realization that he's been caught, "Shit."

Your sleep soft voice meets his ears and his guilt multiplies as you make your way down the staircase, "Rem, what have I told you about leavin' your boots at the door. You're trackin' blood and dirt through the house an- oh." You stop in your tracks, bare feet halting on the hardwood floor, hand not left the railing yet, eyes darting from the mess he's made in the kitchen to the mess that stains his clothes and pale skin.

In the time that you had been with him, Remmick had been extra careful as to make sure that you didn't see him like this. Covered in blood and viscera. The spoils of his hunt painting his skin a different shade altogether. He had made sure you didn't see the way his fangs filled his mouth, taking up too much space to be human, or the way his digits grew like long talons rather than fingers. He hadn't wanted you to see all of that. See what a monster he turned into when you laid your head on your pillow at night to rest. You were too sweet. Too pure. Hadn't been exposed to the horrors the world had hid away from you the way that he had. He wanted to keep it that way. Make sure you weren't tainted by him.

"Darlin', I don't want you seein' me like this." His words come out muffled by the teeth that push against his gums and crowd his mouth. His hands fumble to clasp behind his back, like you hadn't just seen the way they stretched longer than their last knuckle.

"Oh Rem, I ain't a 'fraidy cat like you are." you yawned and chuckled, taking a step closer to him. He meets your step forwards with a step back of his own, trying his best to distance himself from you in this form.

"I know you ain't darlin', I just.. there's some things a lady shouldn't see." A clawed hand comes up to shield his mouth from you, drool beginning to collect at the corners of his lips like a dog.

You give him one last look before closing the distance and taking his blood coated hand in yours, not even flinching at the slick feel of it against your palm, "C'mon, let's getcha cleaned up so you can get some beauty sleep. Lord knows you'll need the rest when it comes time for your punishment for this damned mess."

He snorted and smiled as you lead him to the kitchen, urging him to take a seat at the table while you filled a bowl with warm water and grab a clean dish rag. You set it on the table beside him, and stand between his spread legs, wetting the corner of the cloth and bringing it up to his stained cheek. His big, clawed hands came up to gently rest on your hips as you work. Red iridescence lingers in his irises, his gaze slowly roaming over your features that focus on cleaning up his mess, while your fingers gently swipe the warm rag at the congealed blood on his chin, softly wiping at his neck and down the line of his throat.

"'Yer real pretty, ya know that?" he murmurs through the barrier of his fangs and past his pink, swollen lips.

You smile, just a twitch at the corner of your mouth, focus never straying from the work at hand.

"You never let me forget it." you say, just as quietly. Your fingers stop their cleaning, and your eyes meet his. You take in his features. The way his eyes glow slightly, like a wild animal. The way the points of his fangs peek from between his lips. Feel the way his claws dig just a little bit into the meat of your hips whether he means for them to or not.

You should be afraid of him. Afraid of the fact he could tear you apart with just his bare hands and teeth. The thought of getting as far away from him as you possibly can, sits at the back of your mind, but that self preservation instinct has yet to truly kick in when it comes to your Remmick. You still didn’t see him as the predator he so very clearly is.

His tongue darts out, swipes across his bottom lip, as his eyes land on your mouth.

Before he can lean up to kiss you, you speak, "Wanna look at your fangs. Really look at em'. Never really got to see em' like this." A fingertip drags lightly across his lip, urging him to open his mouth.

He hesitates, but ultimately obliges, jaw slowly opening to reveal the fangs crowding his mouth.

You don't realize the quiet gasp that leaves you. The sight of just how sharp his teeth are shocks you for a moment, a chill running down your spine at the thought of the damage they could truly inflict. He could so easily kill you. Tear you to absolute shreds... yet he doesn't. For some reason, he has restraint when it comes to you.

Your thumb prods gently at the sharp point of one of his incisors, making sure not to nick yourself, before running the tips of your fore and middle fingers upwards, pushing his lip up. You rub along his gumline, his eyes closing as he inhales deeply through his nose.

"Hmmm, are they sensitive?" you ask even though you can already guess the answer, opposite hand coming up to rest on his stubbly cheek that’s now flushed red.

Remmick sits transfixed by your touch. He nods, drool gathering at his bottom lip and spilling over, a whine catches in his throat when you rub at the gum of his incisor.

You pull your hand away slowly, "Do you want me to stop?" You ask him so sweetly. So innocently. Like you have no idea what it’s doing to him.

It makes him groan.

Low and throaty and desperate.

He shakes his head, eyes shut, and when he opens them to look at you, they’re glossy with need.

“Please darlin’, don’t stop.” He mumbles, clawed hand gently grabbing your wrist and lifting your fingers to his mouth.

You nearly choke on a breath when he takes your middle and forefingers between his lips and sucks, forked tongue swirling around the digits lewdly, drool coating them.

Your gaze doesn’t miss the obvious strain of his hard cock against the stiff fabric of his pants as he moans around your fingers.

"Awww," you coo, fingers pressing down on his tongue, "Are you getting hard just from this?"

He nods, a muffled sound leaving him as you inch your fingers towards the back of his throat. Drool pools from the corners of his mouth, dripping down the sides of his chin.

You pull your wet fingers from his throat and tilt his chin up, his wet eyes locking on yours, "Want you to take your cock out, can you do that for me?"

His hands are at his belt buckle, unfastening and unzipping his pants before he could properly answer with a mumbled, "Mmmhmm."

Remmick's cock slaps against his belly as he shuffles his pants just enough past his hips. The tip flushed red and angry, already leaking precum at the slit and dripping down the shaft. He takes himself in his palm, fingers wrapping in a tight grip as he spread the wetness over the length.

You run the pad of your thumb along his swollen bottom lip, before pushing it forwards into his mouth. The sound of him eagerly sucking on the digit, tongue lathing up the skin, pairs filthily with the symphony of slick that comes from his hand languidly jerking up and down his cock.

"That's it Rem, get it nice and wet." you praise him, moving to rub at his gums again, thumb rubbing right where the incisor met the soft pink tissue.

His eyes close, jaw going slack, hand faltering a bit.

"Right there." he whines, hand twisting a bit when it reaches the head.

Your thumb rubs back and forth, matching the rhythm of his hand.

You see the way his thighs tense with each upstroke, the way his chest catches at each sensitive touch.

Spit continues to travel down his chin in rivulets, catching in his collarbones and further wetting the collar of his blood soiled shirt. He's an absolute wreck, and putty in your hands.

"Want you to come for me, you can do that, can't you Rem?" you bring up your other hand, rubbing at the opposite incisor in tandem.

He tries to nod against your hold, eyes squeezing shut in pleasured agony, and he picks up his pace, chasing his end.

With one last swipe to his gumline, the muscles in his abdomen tense, and a breath he doesn't need catches in his chest, cum painting his stomach with every twitch of his oversensitive cock.

You wipe the drool from his chin with your thumbs and press a kiss to his cleaned cheek as he collects himself and grabs the rag you were cleaning him off with.

"Now don't go using this information against me." Remmick jokes, cleaning himself off and resituating his pants.

"You seemed to enjoy it too much for it to be a punishment." you quip back. "Your real punishment for makin' such a mess, is gonna be all the wash you're gonna have to do without my help."

"And what are you gonna be doing while I'm doing all that?" he asked, brow raised.

"I'll be planning the ways to use this newfound information against you."