Rocky road to Dublin
Summary: You love Remmick, trulyâbut heâs overbearing, protective, and always in control.
Pairing: Overprotective! Dominant! Remmick x Depressed! Vampire! Wife! reader
WC: 1.3k
Warnings: 18+, killing, depression, suicidal thoughts(?), violent husband, grief, mentions of sex, physical altercation. MDNI
*They are both toxic as hell, she wants to be with him â sheâs just struggling.*
Part two has been posted! Here
You love remmick, trulyâ but sometimes he gets on your nerves. Heâs demanding, overprotective and sometimes strict. He turned you during the opening of the Juke Joint. It was one of the best nights of your life and it turned sour very quickly. Luckilyâ you, Stack, Remmick and Sammie escaped with your lives. You convinced Remmick to let Sammie go, he had to or it would be the end of him. You, Mary and Stack returned the next night to clean up the scene.
The aftermath shattered your heart into a million pieces multiple times. Stack hovered over smokeâs dead body and let out a scream you had never heard before. You dreaded going in and seeing Annie laying there, your best friend. You two had been there for each other for everything and that night you had to bury her. Delta slim had been bitten and chewed on in so many places, it was horrific and wouldâve made you throw upâ if you had anything on your stomach.
It was silent that night, none of you had anything to say. You just wanted to make sure that no one could tell that anything had happened there. As for the Klan members, you burned them and threw the remains in a lake.
Today, you and remmick are in Louisiana. Youâve lived here since that night, 10 years ago. Youâre waiting on him to get back from his hunt, sitting on the bed reading a book. You hear the door slam, Remmick making his way to the bedroom. He comes in out of breath, disheveled hair, pants ripped and his shirt stained in bloodâ heâs always a messy eater.
You look up from your book, glancing at him and his state.
âWhat the hell happened to you?â You ask.
âMotherfuckin Stack is in town and we crossed paths, he wanted the person that I had scouted all nightâ so we fought.â
You sigh, still reading your book.
âAfter how the last hunt with us went, he told you that you were gonna get an ass whooping. I guess you didnât believe him?â
Remmick glances at you, giving you a look.
âAre we still doing the hunt together this year?â He asks, as he strips out of his clothes.
âIâm not sure. I know that we canât kill that many people this time.â You admit.
Remmick looks back at you, grinning
âIt was fun though, wasnât it?â
You smirk a little, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.
He goes into another room to clean up, you continue reading and light one of your cigarettes.
He comes back and stands in the doorway, eyeing you.
âBaby, did you feed?â He questions you, noticing that you donât seem to have left the bed.
You inhale and shake your head no.
âWell, why not?â He approaches the bed, sitting down beside you.
You shrug.
âI didnât want to.â
He grabs your cigarette, smoking some of it and putting it out.
He raises your nightgown, putting his hand on your thigh.
His eyes widen as he rubs your thigh.
âYouâre warm.. thatâs not good.â He starts to panic.
He grabs your face, looking into your eyesâ your eyes have changed colors. He jumps off the bed and puts his pants on.
âWhere are you going?â
âIâm going to find you somebody to feed on. You shouldnât have waited this fucking long, youâre starting to deteriorate.â He lectures, with a southern drawl.
âRemmy..â you mumble.
He looks at you, waiting to hear what youâll say next.
âI got my cycle.â You admit.
âWhat?ââ
âHoney, thatâs not good. Iâm losing you, if that happens.â
âShit!â He yells.
He rushes out the door, before you can say anything else.
He comes back within thirty minutes, beating on the door and shouting your name. You go open it, confused on what all the fuss is about.
Remmick stands there with a fat, drunken white man on his knees, holding his neck. The man is barely able to sit still, spasming and making an awful noise.
âI broke his spine, thatâs why heâs making that noise. He doesnât have long so, drink.â He demands with a smile.
You stand there in disbelief, a little perturbed if you were being honest.
âNo.â You respond.
Despite drooling, you didnât want to feed. You werenât interested.
His smile drops and he drops the man, the man falling on the porch and still wiggling around like a fish out of water.
Remmickâs fangs are out and he is upset. He walks to the door, grabbing a fistful of your hairâ dragging you onto the porch and onto your knees.
âDrink!â He snarls.
Tears fall out of your eyes as your hands are gripping your head, trying to remove his grasp on your hair.
âRemmy, stop.â You cry out.
He whispers in your ear, âIâll stop when you drink.â
He uses his free hand, slices a slit in the manâs throatâ blood spewing everywhere. You feel your fangs coming out and the urge to crawl to the manâs neck.
âHoney, I love youâ but if you donât drink youâll see a different side of me that you wonât like.â He threatens you, his Irish accent poking through.
âI donât fucking want to. Let me go!â
You keep resisting, even though Remmick is stronger than you.
âFine, I guess weâll do things the hard way.â He grunts.
His grip on your hair tightens harder than you couldâve ever expected, he uses his strength and gripâ practically dog walking you closer to the man.
He raises the man up with his free hand and forces your head down over the wound. The taste is glorious to you, despite tasting all the liquor the man had.
âThatâs it, Mo GhrĂĄ.â He coaches you, seeming turned on by the site of you.
He holds your head down until youâve drank all the man could offer. He finally lets go of your head and hair. He has a grin on his face, feeling accomplished. You crawl over to him and smack him as hard as you could, a sound that would be heard for miles. He grabs his jaw, wincing. You storm into the house, slamming the door. He follows behind you.
You wipe your face off with a rag and youâre so disappointed, in yourself and in him. You see him staring at you, making you even more angry.
âI hate you!â You scream.
He stands there and doesnât take offense to the statement, because he knows itâs not true.
âNo, you donât.â He replies.
You sit on the bed, nightgown drenched in blood, face still soaked in it and you start crying. He walks over, sitting beside youâ hugging you.
âShh.. shh. Donât cry, darlin.â
You look at him, heart broken.
âDonât you ever get tired? Tired of the killing? Tired of the sacrifice? Tired of not being able to see the sun?â You question, while trying to stop crying.
He never realized that you felt this way, you hid it well. His heart is aching hearing you say that.
He grabs your face, kissing your forehead.
âMy love, I wonât ever grow tired of surviving with you. Itâs hard and I know that, I canât say it will get easierâ but I need you. Youâre my wife, youâre all I have. If I donât have you, then meeting the sun wouldnât be so bad.â
You feel sick at the idea of him meeting the sun, a true death.
âRemmy, we canât build a life togetherâ not the way we want. I canât give you kids, we canât grow old.â
He rubs your head, understanding what you feel.
âI know, but weâre making our own life together in a different way.â
You hug him back, harder than normal.
âIâm sorryââ
âI donât hate you, I was just frustrated. Iâm just sad.â
He grins.
âI know, sugar.â He concedes.
âThis life is nothing to me without you in it. Promise me youâll talk to me instead and wonât do that again.â He frets.
âI promise.â You answer.
He stands up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. Admiring how beautiful you look, even when covered in blood.
He pulls you close, kissing youâ then licking the blood from around your mouth.
âWe may not be able to have any babies, but that doesnât mean we canât try to.â He gushes.
You giggle, debating his requestâ but youâre still hungry.
âCan we go find someone else? Iâm hungry.â You request.
He grins, nodding his head.
âAnything for you, sweetheart.â
ËËË âĄ ËËË
















