#alucard castlevania x reader

[demigoddessqueens]

A man who can do both

[omenics]

Calming down Alucard during a breakdown. Having him comfortably snuggled against reader's chest while a warm quilt cover them both, and she just rubs his back and lets him cry on her :(((((

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

› ..a lovers comfort. — I LOVE YOU SM TYSM FOR THIS!! also so sorry its so short anon </3

Perhaps your touch was not enough to calm him, but you held him nonetheless. Your arms cradled his head to your chest, chin upon his head as a heavy quilt lay upon your bodies. He was cold, terribly so, but the heat of your supple flesh gave him comfort.

His tears stained your nightgown, seeping through to your breast. His arms held you tight, wrapped around your waist as his shoulders shook. A hand was entangled in his hair, the back of his head cradled by your palm. Your other hand rest between his scapulas, rubbing a soft, tender touch into his skin.

“Shhh.” You murmured, pressing a long kiss to his crown.

The weather weeped with him, rain pelting on the windows of the castle, thunder booming to echo his soft gasps. The sky lit a few times, illuminating a stormy blue sky. You knew he would apologize a thousand times the next morrow, asking for forgiveness that he did not need. He was a silly, silly man sometimes. He asked for your pardons of silly things, apologizing for ruining your nightdress with his tears, apologizing for his vulnerabilities.

But none of that made you hate him. None of that made you love him any less.

When he craved your comfort, you gave it to him. When he needed your touch, you gave it to him. When he wanted anything, you were there to offer it to him. For a thousand years he could be selfish, asking for your undivided attention, for your constant comfort, for your tender touches; and you would deliver. No words were needed to comfort his tears, only your warm, soft touches. Through his cooler temperature, your fingers sent heaps of warmth through his body, full of a lovers comfort.

[saint-siren]

I like to think that adrian prefers to feed on you during sex. He doesn’t need to, it’s more of an act of sheer desire, just wanting as much of you as he can have. Hence why he only gets the urge to sink his teeth into your bared neck when he’s inside you. He’d be above you, almost as close to cumming as you are, pumping into you with deep, stuttering thrusts as he feels your warmth clinging to his cock and drawing it further inside. You’re the picture of erotism, writhing, not even able to finish crying out his name. It’s cute how you only ever get his name halfway out before breaking off with a gasp when he brushes against some sensitive place inside. With his head in the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath against your skin, he’d softly encourage you to cum for him in a hoarse voice. When he finally heard your breath hitch and a long moan slip from your lips, he’d cradle your face in one hand and sink his teeth into your skin. Not even a pause in his thrusts; your blood and everything about the pursuit of it, is its own aphrodisiac. He’d love the sound of your desperate little gasps of pain but also the odd, specific pleasure of having him drink of your blood in such a manner. He cannot even soothe you, he’d be too lost in the taste of you, the utter privilege of having you like this. He’d get perhaps a mouthful or two before the haze of arousal and the taste of you took over. You’d hear his gasp before you felt him fill you with cum, pressing inside you as deeply as he could, his lips briefly parting from your skin and leaving drops of blood to stain the sheets.

[pickmans-muse]

Hiiii could I request a fic portraying the moment in which Alucard (after szn 3) realizes that he likes the reader, or how she finds out he likes her? Hihihihi

Hiiiiiiii back! I’m so glad you requested! Also, sorry I didn’t realize my asks weren’t open 😅 This is going to be more like headcanons crossed with a short drabble, hope that’s okay! (Reader will be Fem)

Alucard Liking You

This man thinks he’s smooth. He is not smooth. Not even a little bit. He’s very articulate, very intelligent—and the second you walk in, his composure evaporates into thin air. It’s hard to miss a blush on cheeks as pale as his, and even more than that, he stammers a little when he’s around you. He’ll forget what he’s saying, trail off, repeat words or phrases without realizing it—in short, he’s very obvious.

To be fair, it doesn’t start out like that. When he meets you, Alucard is probably just as cool and collected as he usually is. However, he starts to fall for you when he sees you in your element. Maybe you’re an artist, and he sees you painting, or maybe you’re a magician, and he sees you throwing spells that he’s never even heard of. Either way, the first step is when you fascinate him. He’ll pop up to watch you do what you love, or find excuses to do it with you.

The second step is when he develops a y/n-radar. He doesn’t realize it, but he knows where you are at any given moment—and if he doesn’t, for even a minute, he’ll drop what he’s doing to look for you. He’s like a puppy attuned to you, needing to know where you are and that you’re safe.

Along with that comes his increased awareness of you, particularly how you smell. As a dhampir, he can smell the individual odors of people—track them if they’re lost, that kind of thing—and he starts to become more aware of your scent. It makes him feel sleepy, safe, relaxed. That’s when he realizes he’s growing to be attracted to you, and that’s when the blushy stammering starts.

Like his father, Alucard clearly has a thing for women who take charge. When he sees you being in charge, when it really sinks in that you’re badass, he finds himself aroused. Which, naturally, makes the blushing worse around you.

Post season three, he’s surprised to find that your touch settles him, rather than scaring him. Usually, he’s touch averse after Sumi and Taka, but it’s different around you. He finds himself leaning against you, resting on your shoulder—feeling safe with you.

The moment you both know he truly likes you is when he falls asleep on your lap. When he wakes up, and your eyes meet, and he smiles this soft little smile while he blushes up at you.

When Alucard’s breaths even out, soft and deep, you realize he’s gone to sleep. In your lap, with his head pillowed on your thighs.

Amazed, you set down the book you’d been reading to him. He looks so peaceful like this—lips slightly parted, brow soft and unfurrowed. You know he’s had trouble sleeping since Sumi and Taka, that he’s struggled with nightmares and even sleep paralysis ever since.

You never expected this.

Vampires sleep deeply, and so does Alucard—when he manages to sleep at all. It leaves them more vulnerable than at any other time, since they’re difficult to rouse. For a vampire or dhampir to fall asleep with you is a sign of trust like no other.

You kiss his forehead gently, and let him sleep.

[ruiniel]

Sorry you’re sick! 💕 if I’m too late no worries, & no worries if this isn’t a good suggestion (been feeling very uncreative recently)

But any fluffy hc’s of Adrian with a reader who’s really affectionate?

(😭cuz I just wanna give him a hug)

You're never too late 🖤 thank you for this, needed something soft...

(these are all SFW and might add more to the post as ideas come, or make a follow up post. If you or anyone want a NSFW version of any of these, just pop into my ask box!)

◈ If you pad into a room and find him slumped in his chair, unresponsive as he sometimes gets, your first impulse is to leave him be, trying to give him space. Still, it comes difficult to just turn and leave. Minutes later you'll hear knocking at the door of your chambers; he'll be standing there, with his shoulder propped against the door frame and a gaze filled with silent longing. If you hug him then and there, he'll respond with no hesitation, mumbling the question in your hair: why did you leave? He'll apologize for his states, and smile when you say it's nothing, because who can keep their inner struggles bottled up all of the time? There is no need for masks between you.

◈ Sitting in bed together, Adrian sprawled on his back with his head resting in your lap, telling you how warm and good you feel, that you're his home. He'll sigh, content, lashes fluttering lazily as you play with his disheveled hair, as you lean to place shallow kisses on his lips from time to time, just because you can. Some are soft nibbles, others are nips and licks and you do this until his eyes glitter with pleasure and his skin is blushed down to his scarred chest. No words, just you and him, sharing each other's warmth.

◈ Mornings are early or late, depending on what you each have to work on, but you often awaken with his arm around your waist, his nose nuzzling the nape of your neck. If you move, you're getting dragged right back into him, tighter than before, with whispers of 'A few more minutes...'

◈ He cooks for you when he can. He loves it, finds the process soothing, and thinks fondly of your little praises once you savor the meal together. You're usually there, asking questions, dropping the flour, hugging him when he least expects it. He wouldn't trade such moments for the world.

◈ You sometimes have a glass of wine too many; usually it's an occasion, one where you both had plans which, of course, never happen since now Adrian's carrying you up to bed, himself tipsy and listening to all those little nothings you share in a slurred voice, rubbing your cheek against his chest. Sometimes those words make him blush and clear his throat. He's patiently tucking you in, even with you tugging clumsily at the lacing of his shirt, dragging him down for a kiss and arching your body into him. 'Tomorrow, dear. Tomorrow, I promise,' he'll say, red as a beet and with half a mind to give in to your drunken request, before disentangling himself from your weak grasp and pulling a blanket playfully over your head. He does return, later, however, snuggling beside you when you're fast asleep.

◈ When his past returns to haunt, he'll sometimes have nightmares, straining up so suddenly you'll wake from your own slumber. If you sit up in bed and call his name, he'll turn to stare at you with a gaze so lost your heart will ache in your chest. At a silent invitation, your arms extended towards him, he'll curl up to you. He'll hug your middle, press his face into your side, clinging to you until the ghosts fade.

◈ Sitting by the bath basin wrapped in nothing but a towel, washing his hair. You enjoy it and so does he, you're attuned by now to the soft moans that leave his throat as you massage careful circles along his scalp. He marvels at how good you are, how tension dissipates from him at your touch. And you love lathering those dark gold strands, running soapy fingers down his skin, over the muscles rippling beneath. Sometimes, he'll turn to look at you in a way that quickens your heart and next you know you're being lifted and placed snugly in his lap in the bath, skin slippery against his, his long hands traveling up and down your back until you fall against his chest, purring, he says, like a kitten.

◈ That's what he calls you, by the way. You're his kitten and he's your wolf, and some of the most thrilling words you'll ever hear from him will be when his eyes are glazed over and his stare is languorous as he lounges in an armchair. His voice, a meld of need and demand. 'Come here, kitten.' He leaves you breathless when he acts that way, and you always go, loving the way black swallows the gold in his irises the closer you are.

[mcverse]

☆ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬/𝐍𝐨

☆ 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

☆ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐀𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝), 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭/𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭

☆ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫: 𝐈’𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

☆ ​𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐏𝐥𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝: 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟏𝟖+

How does he manage to be so stunningly beautiful even in this moment? While you’re lying there, probably appearing a bit disheveled, he looks absolutely divine, his hair cascades around his face like elegant drapes.

If ever compared, he could rival an angel, especially with the shimmering light from the fireplace casting an illusion of a halo slightly askew above his head.

Or perhaps it’s the struggle to keep your eyes open, only managing to squint and steal glimpses of him that you hallucinate. The dizzying urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head arises as he handles you with an extraordinary delicacy, treating you like a rare creature he’s encountered.

He drags his hips lazily, only purpose was to feels every pulse and twitch of your walls around his cock. It hits all the spots in you so easily that you can’t be frustrated by the pace. You can only lie there and take it; no matter how torturous it may be.

His hands roam your body, pausing where he holds a firm grip, like your hips or breasts, before eventually settling on grasping a handful of your soft inner thighs, gently urging them to open a bit wider, allowing him to delve a bit deeper.

The change in angle takes your breath away, each occasional movement of his hips causing his tip to gently brush against your cervix. While not a new experience, the knowledge that he could reach such depth was heightening your arousal—your body’s response was immediate: a slow arch of your back off the bed, a quicker rise and fall of your chest, and your toes curling involuntarily. The tension building in your lower stomach becomes more pronounced.

Moistening your lips, you briefly close your eyes and tilt your head back, embracing the pleasure. Each connection of his hips with yours grazes against your puffy clit, sending waves of delight through your body, causing you to instinctively clench your pussy down on him.

You notice his reaction—an almost imperceptible hiss and a firmer grip on your thighs—though his pace remains unchanged.

“I love you,” you say, breathless, your jaw slightly slack, enough for you to tell him the only thought in your head right now. Your chest and stomach tighten uncomfortably as you continue, “You’re so damn beautiful, I love you.”

If your eyes were open, you might notice the way his already fair face grew warmer, his eyes widening briefly with a mix of surprise, desire, and adoration before he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

He adjusts the position slightly, pushing your body further beyond its limits. With his face still against your neck, he braces himself by placing his forearms on either side of your head. He leans forward briefly before pulling back and setting a quick pace.

You let out a yelp as the pace sudden change. The force of his thrusts makes your breasts bounce, even under his weight. "Nnhg— ahh, Adrian— f-fuck," you moan, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders for leverage.

He moves urgently, not out of impatience, but driven by the pursuit of his own release. Your words trigger something within him. He leans in, supporting his weight on one forearm while he fucks you gradually harder each plunge into you. His other hand skillfully rubs your clit in circular motions.

The pressure on your clit constricts your breath, yet you resist pulling away, enduring the slight discomfort of overstimulation. Instead, you meet his thrusts with equal fervor, yearning to reach your climax. If you'd known his response to your words in bed would be this intense, you would've spoken them earlier.

“Just like that—hahh—I’m so close, don’t stop, please,” you plead as the tension simmers, on the edge but not quite snapping. Alucard groans, leaning his weight onto you, resuming his exploration of your body, peppering your neck with open-mouthed kisses and gentle sucking.

You observe the muscles flexing on his back as best you can through fluttering eyes, sliding your hand up the back of his neck to entangle in his hair and gently scratch his scalp when he gives a sudden hard thrust.

He repeats the action multiple times, causing your legs to quiver. The intensity of his rutting feels overwhelming, as he vigorously enters you, hitting your G-spot with each motion, an almost relentless sensation.

“Yes-yes-yes, I love you. Right there!”

Again, he pace quickens, the shallow thrusts now accompanied by the telltale twitch of his cock. He's nearing the edge, his breath hitching in your ear as he keeps you tightly pressed against his body.

Suffocating. That’s how you’ve felt. Likely, it mirrored how he felt when your soaked pussy clenched around him for the final time, messily creaming on his cock.

He continues to thrust erratically through your orgasm before finally, he buries himself deep inside you, releasing with a grunt and a twitching of his body as he cums.

He slumps against you, applying all his weight, his hair falling into your face before feeling a smile against your shoulder, “You both embarrass and flatter me, darling. Thank you.”

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 1

A/N: Thank you for everyone's patience after the first chapter, I hope to write more of this; this chapter will explain more and include appearance!

TW: Some mentions of harassment and violence depicted. Slight swearing is used too.

Summary: Born as a witch to a powerful coven, Y/N is destined for greatness. But she finds herself alone, forgotten and hated for being a witch later in life. It's only when she seeks shelter, that she finds herself running into help she least expected.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Follow the story on A03!

Chapter 1

13 Years Later.

1476

The screeching of chickens sounded awfully similar to the sounds of human screams.

Jolting alive as if sparked by lightning, you almost smacked your head on the shelf ever so close above your once sleeping form, thudding to the ground the books and papers, scattering like leaves on the wind.

“Shit.” You groaned, grabbing your head, relieving the awful headache you were experiencing by clutching it. Gods, let this torture be over already. You cursed yourself, unfolding yourself from the tangled sheets of your uncomfortable bed.

Your bones groaned with the need to be stretched, popping in satisfaction as you dressed. The cool morning air brought the hairs on your skin to pebble, so you opted for warmer cotton to guard your skin throughout the day. Having already not had enough time to properly ready yourself for the day, your work clothes were already being thrown on you – much to your dismay.

Tying the apron around you and the head scarf to keep your short curls out your face, you braced yourself just at the front of your closed door, outweighing whether you should just roll back into the comfort of your itchy and narrow bed.

But that would mean no money, and no money meant not being able to pay for food, and no food would mean I would starve quicker than a stray dog and I would never have a way of getting out of this shit village-

Your door rattled jarringly with life on the other side, scaring your wits out as you braced for the austere voice behind it. “Are you decent?”

“Yes, sir.” You braced yourself for the worst.

Stepping back a few paces, the door swung open and it shuddered on its hinges, groaning as the thin walls vibrated terribly. The man in front of you was aged, blotchy skin and pot-bellied. His hair was mousey-brown with a terrible bald spot that he tried hiding with a combover. Bogdan was the standard of men in this village: all leery-eyed with fingers that liked touching, and mouths that liked the sound of their own voice. He was the very same as the rest of his gluttonous family.

Bogdan disregarded you even standing in front of him, eyeing your room scrutinisingly slowly. “It’s messy in here.”

“Yes, I know.” You coolly responded, trying your best to hold your tongue. If only I didn’t have someone burst into my room.

“Well, Andrei is hungry, he needs his breakfast.” Bogdan chortled, and it reminded you all the same as how the little piglets on the farm would squeal if they were picked up. “He wants four eggs this time.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you kept your head low. “I’ll be sure to check the coop for more.”

“Be quick then, girl,” Bogdan stepped to the side to allow you to pass, and you made sure to walk a bit faster to avoid his hands reaching for the back of you. You knew if you weren’t quick enough, and you learnt the hard way the first time he did it.

“Yes, sir.” You skipped a step to leave your room, keeping a safe distance between him as you walked quickly through the back of the kitchen, outside to meet the harsh cold of the air.

The coop was small enough that it held the hens sweetly in their little hut, and you couldn’t help but hold a close bond with them. Call it loneliness, call it madness, but they slowly began your little friends you spoke to each morning, softly to yourself.

“Morning, ladies,” the latch to their door opened, and a cluster of feathers was the first thing you saw before you heard the familiar noises of your girls—the two of them you had, with names you gave them to make you feel close.

Henrietta was your brown-mottled beauty, the largest of the two and sweetest in allowing you to hold her. She reminded you of a cat in telling you when and for how long she wished to be held. Your black mottled hen, Dutchess, was the younger, trilling in greeting when she sensed your presence.

“I know, I know. They haven’t gotten rid of me just yet.” You laughed, gently rummaging through to find the right amount of eggs. “Well, that’s if I get out first.”

Duchess is first to ‘respond’, pecking gently at your hand to guide you to some she was nesting on. “First chance I get, I’m leaving.” You tell yourself aloud, not loud enough to be heard. “I’ll make sure I take you both with me.”

Henrietta lets out a sound similar to a goose’s honk, a squeak some would say, and it brought a smile to your lips all the same as every other day. How you loved them more than you liked to tell yourself, regardless if others found it odd.

You fed them seeds from your palm, gathering the necessary amount of eggs and you stroked Duchess’ chest, thankful she was feeling very gentle. “Gotta go, ladies. But I’ll be sure to see you all tomorrow.”

You made sure they were shielded from the elements, shutting the coop door as you headed quickly inside. Andrei and his mother, Irina – a much younger woman to her aged husband – were sat stoically at the kitchen table, eyes a dull hazel hue, dull and dead inside.

“Morning to you both.” you greeted as politely as you could, stacking the eggs as you gathered a skillet and necessary ingredients of milk, pepper, ginger, saffron (which you had to pay for with your own wages) and cheese.

 Bogdan stalked his way into the kitchen himself, the silence was piercing, and even as you cooked with your back towards the three, you could feel their angry, harsh gaze stabbing into you. Their words were mean, their patience thin regardless of what you did or the size of the mistake, and the scars on your skin as their ‘punishments’ still stung with their reminders on your body.

“Hurry with it, girl.” Bogdan barked, startling you to move faster, nearly splashing hot milk over your hand in a hurry. The meal was as simple as poached eggs topped with cheese and served with bread, but Bogdan’s eyes were cold when he stared at the meal presented to him.

“You call this breakfast?” He held his plate up for your inspection.

You eyed it carefully, nearly laughing at his squashed, pig-like face staring back at you. “Your son always asks for this meal, sir.”

“No, I don’t,” Andrei wheezes, red-faced and whiny, and his face was punchable at that very moment. “She can’t cook what I like.”

“No, I don’t think she fucking can,” Bogdan added. It was only Irina who was the quietest of the three, but her eyes read the most emotion. The way her body was tense, eyes not looking at either of them and staring with such concentration on her plate.

You dared not step away in fright when Bogdan stood and strode towards you, glaring you down.

“Go on bitch, do something.” He goaded, twisting his fat head as if asking for you to strike him first. Your fingers flexed at the image, seeing him down on the ground after years of his punishments, his shouting matches with his son as you could only watch, hear it through the walls when his wife cried out in the nights.

Unclenching your hands, you could only wish you could do so much more for him.

Taking it as a sign of weakness, Bogdan turned to glance at his son momentarily. “One thing to know when you get a wife, son, is never let them have a go at you first.”

The strike was so fierce that your body nearly doubled over from the force. You buckled temporarily, clutching your already bruising cheek, staring in both horror and fury, wishing only the harm you could give him that only he could be treated with.

“Run along, bitch. Before I strike you again.” He threatened, and you had to ignore best the way his son snickered in your misery.

“Very well, sir.” You coolly replied, already listing what ways would get him to squeal like a pig.

-

The nights were short when you fell back into your room after a long day out.

It was a temporary measure after what had happened in Targoviste. Dracula was a temporary distraction from the world ending, yet his army of vampires and night creatures stalked across Wallachia, killing all in sight.

‘All for love,’ some said, yet you didn’t think Dracula could even conjure love after his heart was stone cold for centuries.

You had seen the bodies that came through after nights of their hunts, the way a human body didn’t look like anything after it was shredded from head to toe. It brought you to think of what those creatures were made from, how they were made,

Dracula was gone, but his servants lurked, his creatures too.

You didn’t even bother stripping from your clothes from today, throwing yourself onto your bed with a groan leaving your lips.

There was an odd comfort that came from your small bed, cushioning your weary body. You coiled in a fetal position in the darkness of your own relief, tucked away with the need for peace.

Drifting in and out of sleep, the need to rest was wanting to take over, but your mind was always plagued by nightmares of that day. The screams, the vampire you saw on the other side of the river—your mother’s lifeless body.

Blinking through bleary eyes, you shook the sleep from you, sighing heavily out a large, weighted breath. Holding your hands in front of you, you stared at them carefully. Spells had come with ease to you when you were young, but since the day you lost your coven and home, all was gone including your identity.

A powerful witch, they said I’d be. You could almost laugh despite the pain in your chest. But what is so powerful of me now for allowing some lecherous old man to strike me?

The sisters of your coven told you of your potential and sought it in prosthetic dreams and living visions. They spoke about how you’d be too strong for the world, even stronger than them. But what was now left was a girl who could only bring the smallest of flames to hand.

I can still feel them. You thought, cupping your hands and picturing the way they felt. They were inviting, the hug you needed after a long day, the way they warmed you like your mama did so many years ago.

‘The flames aren’t there to hurt you, Y/N.’ You could hear her voice in your mind, gentle and reassuring.

Yes, they’ve never hurt me. You thought, concentrating on them, feeling them spread from a small spark, growing and growing, imaging their colours blossom like the petals of flowers in spring, until-

“Ardeo.” You called out to the darkness, the darkness answered you eagerly back.

Like the spark of life, it started small, small flickers grew as they caught to your hands, yet they did not burn as you were informed. You smiled, the more they glimmered, the brighter they roared with life. They twirled around your fingertips like dancers, coiling and twisting around your fingers as you watched in glee.

I shan’t be scared any more. You let them die in your palms, the room growing dim with the little light now illuminating. I’m done with hiding. I shall not be something they mock, but rather someone they’ll know.

-

There is a harsh smell of blood that floated through your room, heavy and overpowering.

You retch as you rise, certain that something had made a meal just outside your bedroom window before the realisation hits you of what it could be.

Bolting out of your room, you almost crash into Bogdan as you rush past him, and outside to the coop. Please be okay, please be okay, please-

The coop door is already ajar when you slam it open, the crime is gruesome as you almost gasp at the sight. A heap of bloodied feathers greets you, with no chickens in sight. You find yourself almost weeping, before a cruel voice japes behind you.

“The night creatures took them away because you were too weird. Who talks to animals anyway?” He mocks cruelly. “They were just chickens.” Andrei’s shrill voice breaks something in you, as you glare daggers that make his words die down on his tongue. He doesn’t say much as you look at him in satisfaction, knowing you are not to be reckoned with.

“Fuck you, fat boy.” You move past him, ignoring the way he cries out from not even a harsh shove, but you head back inside to face the man you dreaded since bumping into him this morning.

He eyes you as if he’s thinking of the best possible thing to jape you about before you say first.

“I quit, I leave by the end of today.”

“You’re not serious,” Bogdan looks as if he was the one slapped across the face, red-faced as a tomato as he eyes you with shock. “Do you think someone will be willing to whisk you up just because you think you have a pretty face and decent body? You’re nothing without me keeping you from those beasts outside. You’re nothing without being under my roof.”

“Maybe so,” you respond, fingers clenched as you wish to speak the one word, but the anger rolls off you as you finally say what you wish you could’ve said a long time ago, “But I’m not a fat fucking fuck like you.”

“You little bitch,” he lunges for you, but you’re quicker, your hands reaching for the chubbiness of his forearm. With the strength of your sisters in spirit, the strength to keep living, you spoke the one word with as much fury and venom as you could produce. “Ardeo.”

You felt the heat first, the way it burnt through from your palms into his flesh, igniting as if beginning a fire, catching part of his clothes as he recoiled in startling fright. His screams are just as frantic as you imagined, the smell of burning flesh ignites memories from years ago, but you keep latched onto him, trying to ignore everything surrounding you and him.

It’s uncertain if you let go or he has enough strength to pull his arm out, and the ring around his arm is blotchy and red-raw, blistering and bubbling.

Bogdan was cursing you, howling like a wounded animal as he clutched his arm, but you did not wish to hear him, concentrating on keeping the flames in your palms alive.

“I’ll kill you,” he gritted his teeth, lips bloody from biting through them so harshly, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

You braced for a slap or something worse, body tense as no pain came. All you could hear was the wheezing sound of laboured breathing, a grunt of pain that didn’t come from you.

When your eyes focused on the sight in front of you, you saw that Bogdan’s body was tense, shoulder raised as if he had been struck in the back of the head. His eyes were wide like dinner plates, before he slumped to the kitchen table, something digging into his back.

“Get out whilst you still can,” Irina warned, her body tensed, eyes dead but tears flowed from her face as she pulled the item out from her husband’s back, silver flashing caught the light of the sunlight coming through, blood spurting like a faucet as you could hear him continue to choke.

You dared not look back as you bolted like a hare, hearing the continuous sound of the blade going in and out of the flesh, over and over again.

-

The more you ran, the more you relived being chased, running for your life once again.

Your lungs were aching, legs begging to rest, but you did not turn back in fear you were being followed. You had heard horror stories of sisters from covens being chased and hunted by men of the holy church, with pitchforks and flamed torches. You knew what became of them if proven guilty of crimes they hadn’t committed, but you knew that what you had done -regardless of witchcraft – was still an act of murder.

You didn’t want to imagine what it would feel like to burn, burn with flames you couldn’t control. The flames wouldn’t come from within you, instead, flames are used to ‘cleanse’ your soul clean for heaven.

Don’t turn back, keep running. You told yourself, watching the sky turn from purples and oranges to growing darker and darker. Run before something much worse finds you.

You didn’t know where you were: this was as far past as you had gotten and the woods seemed unfamiliar to you just as they were thirteen years ago when you fled the scene. It felt as if you were good at that: running from your past, running for a future you craved.

The treeline grew narrower as the night began, and before you, you ran through a clearing, a stream gently flowing as you jumped over it, trying to make sure you didn’t fall over your feet.

Trees grew and became deader, and before you could turn to take a look behind you, you gasped at the sight in front of you.

It was hard not to spot it, compared to the trees that seemed to blend with its black tall walls. It was a ghastly, spindly mass, a mass of destruction that caused dread for all to feel upon seeing it.

Dracula’s castle.

No, he was surely dead, wasn’t he?

Your head was spinning, body yearning for rest, throat gasping for air and water, and you garbled, eyes growing hazy. If he was dead, his castle would still be unoccupied, right?

Not wanting to take any chances, two parts of you were uncertain about what to do. Part of you screamed, that primal ‘fight or flight’ mode kicked in once again, and you felt like a little girl all over again, staring at your mother’s corpse. But the other part of you told you it would be shelter needed to keep you safe from anything outside.

Racing up towards the large, intimidating stairs, you chose to ignore the corpses that littered the entrance. You spotted many that resembled the corpses of night creatures, and two that were humanoid, propped on spikes as they blew gently in the breeze.

The doors came into sight, hesitating for a pregnant pause before you braced, pounding on them with three heavy knocks with nothing more than the side of your clenched fist. The sound the door made resonated within you as the sound vibrated throughout the outer entrance.

Nothing came from the inside for a moment or two, and before you could knock again - more desperately, urgently - the doors groaned with life, slowly opening. Not wasting time, you slipped through before they could shut, eyes adjusting to the harsh contrast of dark then light, eyes blurry, stumbling momentarily.

You didn’t have time to call out, before you felt something cold press into the back of your neck, silent as an apparition.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat.” A soothing, soft voice sounded as if he was both behind you and watching from afar.

You wheezed, heart, thundering, the blade pressed closer into your skin and you cried out, trying to plead through your sputtering.

“Please—help me!” You called out, body about to give way as you swayed, blinking in and out of consciousness. Your body screamed to rest, but your mind was alive and burning with the need to explain yourself more.

With a final cry out, your body fell, but before your head could hit the ground, it was not met with the cold, hard flooring, but something holding you as you were settled to the ground gently, eyes giving out as darkness consumed you whole.

-

Latin Translations:

Ardeo – (I) burn

[tonaken]

A closer look_ ADRIAN “ALUCARD” ȚEPEȘ

FIA’S NOTE_ I’m back at it again writing longer pieces hehe. This was supposed to be a drabble/thirst, something with MAX 350-500 words, but I got carried away oops. I gave my baby boy what he deserved

CONTENT_ Thinking of Alucard being a bit…pervy <3

WARNINGS_ ALUCARD x fem!reader, no pronouns used but female anatomy mentioned, AU where Alucard is a famous lawyer (random ik) and your neighbour, voyeur!Alucard, dub-con (you are surprised, but you don’t mind him looking at you), male masturbation, Alucard is a sexually repressed man who is a perv for you <3

W_C_ 1.6k words

Alucard is a man of principle, one that acts with honor and grace. Delicate and poised, his aura is calm, refreshing. Even under the pressure of his job and status, he doesn’t crumble, he maintains his integrity.

The only battles he fights are in the simmering tension of the courtroom, the sword and shield of justice working for him. He struggles with a higher purpose in mind, far above mere victory, nothing short of world improvement.

He’s ambitious, there’s no denying it, and you can tell, especially after you, his neighbour, pointed it out while congratulating him for a recent important win under his belt. It was just a simple interaction and a casual meeting: he had parked in front of his building, you were going back to yours, and you recognized him from the news.

It was hard not to: long, golden locks that flow silkily and amber eyes that hold a warm determination. A soft polite smile when interviewed next to his innocent client, a perfect complexion that appeared like alabaster in the flesh. He was dashing.

He was a bit standoffish when he thanked you, fearing you were some kind of journalist, ready to squeeze him some more after the long day he had. But then you introduced yourself - y/n, he remembers - and he calmed down.

You never talked again after that, too immersed in your respective lives, heads low and buried in work, dragging feet on pavement in the late hours of the night. He always kept an eye on you though, a wandering glance that strayed from his lamp-illuminated cluttered desk. Whether willingly or otherwise he’s not sure.

He knows your routines, the time you get out in the morning, and the three-hour window you should be home by. He knows your weekend rituals and some of your hobbies. He does notice the way the plants on your balcony lose a bit of foliage to then flourish as if nothing happened. Pruning does wonders, it seems.

You’re a decent person, and as high his values and dreams are, he finds your simpler life fascinating. It attracts him, just like you do.

But, a man who knows he doesn’t have time for romance shouldn’t be doing this, he thinks. You seem to be only missing that special person in your life, he barely has time to clean his own house. Your lifestyles are incompatible, he counters; you have fixed work hours, he pulls all-nighters after a day in court. You wouldn’t like him, he argues; you have hanging plants all over your apartment, his body runs exclusively on caffeine.

He gives up even before starting, and as rare as that is for him, he renounces the fight. No, not one against some pesky criminal, or some astute lawyer. It happens to be one against himself, and that makes everything that much more difficult.

Legal quibbles are easy to dodge and unravel, but over the meanders of the heart no laws apply, and oddly enough, it’s within himself that he feels the most lost.

He doesn’t recognize himself when he finds himself fighting his own desires, desires that have become low, unlawful, unrighteous. His eyes drift away from the view before him, but his instincts pull him back again. How shameful of him.

Your curtains are missing, courtesy of spring and the cleaning it brings along with it. Your shadow dances across the windowpane, a stark light showing off a perfect outline. The glass has a frosty finish, and he remembers that it’s your bathroom he’s looking into. A perverted curiosity twists in his belly at all the possible outcomes, but when faced with the view of you undressing, his conscience tries to make an effort to peek through his desire-induced haze.

Your arms raise as you take off your top, but Alucard stays put, tuned in with the show. When you slightly bend over to take off what seem like bottoms, he sees in his mind’s eye the rough fabric that slips off your wonderfully soft skin. He imagines the tender, itchy dents the stitching left behind, and for a second, he would love to kiss them better.

Same goes for the bra he now so clearly sees hanging from your fingers. Your hands trace the patches of skin the straps dug in, and as you focus on massaging the discomfort away, he takes in the silhouette of your chest, nipples sticking out. He licks his lips.

You kneel down again and you're holding another piece of fabric, one with an indistinct shape. But then he notices how thin it looks and he understands. It’s your panties. He wonders how they look on you, what colour they are, and how they contrast with your skin tone. The way the elastic would sink into your flesh, if there is any skin that overflows from the rims, if there’s any fat that spills around your thighs, some he could bite into. His tongue runs over his teeth.

And then, his thoughts wander into much more dangerous territory. He recalls how you’ve just come back from work, twilight running away from the night. He ponders, is there a damp spot in your panties? One he can touch, lick, taste?

He envisions you walking around and adjusting them, maybe for riding too high and disturbing you. He feels hot at the mere thought of the gusset getting trapped in between your pussy lips, rubbing on your clit as you cross your legs during the day.

He’d lap at it to cure the irritation, if you’d let him. Or he could just stretch the material back into its rightful place, and just lick his fingers later. And oh, how good you'd smell. He can only rely on his mind’s imagination to come up with something. A heady, musky scent, but unique to you. He inhales deeply.

Unfortunately for him, you step into the bathtub, too low for him to see through the window. He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding and a cold sweat takes over him.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s disgust, maybe it’s disappointment. It’s twisted, dirty in soul and spirit. It shows in the clench of his tight fist, his palm rough and hot against his skin. It displays in the squeeze of his eyes, blown pupils losing focus. It unfolds in the splatter of his seed, webs of it breaking in between his lithe fingers.

The light of your bathroom is long gone by the time he gets into himself. A few stray droplets fall on the carpet beneath him as his hand dangles from his lap, stained, tarnished from his sin. He stares at his paperwork, half page annotated, whilst the rest sits bare, orderly, stern characters swimming in a sea of white. His mind wanders a bit and as his eyes travel along with it, they reach the other side of the street, once again.

Your bedroom windows sit open, but this time, his stomach doesn’t flip in anticipation, nor do his loins burn in need. You walk in lazily, your hands fumbling with light, airy fabric. You’re wearing a robe, one that wraps around your waist and falls softly on your chest. He admires you while you set your new curtains, arms raising and stretching with a gentle grace he’s learnt to appreciate in the last few months.

He tries to remain unmoved, even when your breast spills from its loose confinement, but then there he goes again. His breath hitches and his pulse quickens.

You’re slow in fixing your wardrobe malfunction, seemingly oblivious to how exposed you are. Your hand reaches for the fold hanging off your shoulder, to then put it back in place, fingers taking their time to take in the softness. Your relaxation seems almost intentional, showy, purposeful. It’s a doubt that settles in his mind, one’s which answer he doesn’t have to toil for, though.

He jumps in his chair when your eyes meet his, and, for a split second, he forgets his desk lamp is on. He launches himself in search of the switch, sheets upon sheets of paper now littering the floor, twirling in the air in an array of scribbled white. He quickly gives up, and in a desperate attempt, pulls the lamp’s plug from its socket. It’s a bit comical how he scurries once he’s caught, and you can’t avoid finding him, at the very least, endearing.

He faces you with his back, hand high on his forehead, deep in thinking. He envisions his tainted reputation and his ruined career; “Tepes the molester”, the newspapers speak clear. His mind races as he hides in the darkness, shame, mortification and anger plaguing his thoughts.

A masochistic pull tells him to witness your disappointment and disillusionment, a self destructive need to see the damage he’s done. Sheepish eyes met yours to then widen in confusion.

There is no scowl on your face, nor a cross expression, or any trace of disdain. It’s with a small smile that he's greeted with and he’s left speechless. With a small nod you have him jumping to his feet, running onto your shared street. He has to thank the heavens that there’s nobody around and that he can reach your floor, safe and sound.

You’re quick to reach the door, cracking it open for him to enter. Your robe stays the same, but the look in your eyes is different. It consumes him, yet gives him life. His chest burns and his head spins: lust overtook him again, and there’s a moment where he regrets it all. But then, you speak, and he doesn’t care, not anymore.

“You came for a closer look, didn’t you?”

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

｡ﾟ･Tags_ @gunnedrobin @mykuronekome @berranurates @wakatshi @nathalunalune @dassmyname @mi1kbunnie @yooniluvbot444 @sailewhoremoon @blueparadis

© 2022 tonaken | do not repost, modify, copy or claim

[catarsis96]

Hice este fanfic drabble para este día 31, nunca había escrito yandere así que no sé si hice un buen trabajo.

Advertencias: Yandere Alucard Tepes x Reader femenino. No acepto o consiento cualquier comportamiento dañino, obsesivo y/o posesivo cualquier otro. Esto es sólo una ficción.

Sinópsis: Después de acabar con su padre, Alucard se había quedado solo, Trevor y Sypha tomaron sus caminos, quedando él solo en su frío castillo, hasta que decidió salir al pueblo más cercano y te vio.

La mujer que se volvería su más dulce compañía.

.

.

“Por favor, Alucard, déjame ir”

Alucard no había pensado que amar a alguien más podía cambiarlo, era como un poder más fuerte que todo lo que existiera. El sentimiento de amor era más que solo palabras bonitas.

Él esperaba hacer de su castillo su tumba, la vida parecía quitarle todo lo que se le atravesaba, ya no sonreía, no había colores y brillo, no había vida en sus ojos, era solo un cuerpo vacío. Como un fantasma. Se había quedado solo, Trevor y Sypha tomaron sus caminos. Él debía de hacer una nueva vida, pero no se sentía con la energía para hacer algo, no tenía a nada y nadie. No tenía compañía.

Pero fue cuando salió del castillo y decidió ir al pueblo cercano en busca de provisiones y también para alejarse, aunque fuera un rato, de las sombras que lo volvían loco, cuando te conoció por primera vez. 

Tu entusiasmo y forma de ver la vida, a pesar de que había sido amenazada por Drácula, le llamó la atención, le hizo recordar a su madre. Fue extraño para él, pero quería volver a verte, decidió que tomaría como excusa ir al pueblo por comida, a pesar de que su alacena estaba llena, él solo quería verte.

Te habías quedado sorprendida cuando lo conociste, no pensaste que algún día conocerías a un Damphir, al hijo de Drácula. Alucard te atrajo con su belleza, su rubio cabello, esos ojos brillantes y su calidez. Pero nunca pensaste que lograrías enamorarlo, que serías la obsesión de alguien sobrenatural como él.

Quería tenerte para él solo, llevarte a su castillo y mimarte y cuidarte de todo lo que te lastimara, quería tu amor solo para él. Y por las noches, quería tenerte debajo de él.

“Te traje algo delicioso” Ignoró tu súplica anterior, puso la charola de plata sobre la mesa de noche de esa habitación que se volvió tu prisión. 

Miraste la comida que te había preparado, sonreíste sin ánimos, por el olor de la carne y la fruta picada supiste que estaba muy bien cocinada, después de todo, Alucard sabía cocinar.

" Quiero ir a casa, Alucard" 

"Adrian" Te corrigió él, desde que te había llevado a su castillo te había pedido que lo comenzaras a llamar por su nombre real.

"... Adrian, llévame a casa." Volviste a decir, esta vez con su nombre.

"Estás en casa, mi amor." Él sonrió con extremado amor.

Te estremeciste ante su mirada de amor extremo y desmedido. Comprendiste que él había perdido a su madre por la ignorancia de la iglesia, que su papá había perdido la cabeza en cuanto su esposa murió, lo comprendiste al pie de la letra y te compadeciste de él, era un joven que perdió a su familia y que estaba solo, quisiste darle tu amistad, solo eso querías, no que llegara al punto de llevarte a su castillo para nunca dejarte salir y pedirte que le amaras como él lo hacía.

"¡¿Qué haces?!" Exclamaste sorprendida, Alucard te había besado.

"Dejaste de hablar y quería saber si estabas bien." Alucard se rió por tu sobresalto. Se lamió los labios, como si hubiera probado la más dulce miel.

"... Y ahora quiero otro beso más."

Sus ojos brillaron, y fue ahí donde te diste cuenta que nunca te dejaría ir de su lado.

Que te volverías su más dulce compañía. 

[friendly-local-eldritchite]

TW: cursing, sexual themes

Alucard: Romanian

He’s surprised and pleased—and his intellectual side is a bit turned on, frankly. He didn’t expect this.

Be prepared for him to start using sweet terms for you, and to start peppering his language with more and more Romanian now that he knows he can.

Will help you learn other languages too—and will probably help you review them (in study sessions, but also in bed 😏)

Whispers Romanian terms of affection in your ear all the time. And I mean all the time.

Hector: Latin

I always think of him as a fan of the classics… anyways

He is so happy! He’s a bookish boy, we know this, so expect him to set up reading hangouts.

He will absolutely read to you from classical plays and other works, the more romantic the better.

Call him sweet names in Latin, and he will probably melt. Kisses and blushing cuddles for you after that. 😘

Isaac: Arabic

He won’t show his amazement immediately, just a little widening of his eyes, but he will be very surprised and pleased. He’s stoic and we love him.

He starts casually slipping terms and idioms into his speech that he hasn’t been able to use in a while. It makes him smile more to use his first language who are you and what are you doing to his heart

One night he slips and uses a term of endearment for you. He actually blushes when he realizes.

Please please please tell him you love him in Arabic and kiss his forehead okay

Armin Arlert: German

Armin’s a sweet baby, right? Innocent? Kind always? Wrong

He curses in German (only in German) and he will be so embarrassed if he realizes you understand him.

Low key has road rage and will mutter furious expletives…

He gives his closest friends nicknames in German, and when you give him one he almost faints. You give each other compliments and call each other sweet names all the time.

Eren also speaks German, and he fake gags at your conversations

Reiner Braun: Italian

Yes I know he’s not Italian hear me out

When you speak Italian to Reiner, he’s just struck by how musical it sounds, and he wants to hear more. He’ll ask bashfully for you to tell him what it all means.

He will try to learn it with you. He wants to understand what you’re saying.

When he finds out you’ve been calling him pet names in Italian for weeks, months, or years, he turns bright red and buries his face in your neck so he doesn’t have to look at you directly.

He will learn enough Italian to compliment you and give you pet names back. 🥰

Levi Ackerman: German again

Unsurprisingly, lots of “shit” and “damnit” but in German. The poop jokes are actually funnier…

He doesn’t react visibly when you respond to his grumbling in German with German—but inside he’s pleased and maybe a bit satisfied that you’re on the same page.

He’s going to slowly increase the amount of German he speaks, and one day he barks something truly vulgar at Eren and you just start snickering. He actually smiles. Eren’s horrified

Yes, poop jokes. More of them.

And yes, he does call you pet names in German—he tells people he doesn’t want to know about your relationship that it means brat (it means sweetheart)

[demigoddessqueens]

drive-in dalliance

SUMMARY: you and your hot date for the night have a little inspiration from the local drive-in theater

WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+, NSFW/SMUT

A/n - here and on ao3

You thought it sweet of him to treat you to such a night. Call your love a bit old fashioned, but Adrian knew what it took to set the mood for the night.

He had noticed that you had been eyeing the city’s new drive thru theater and surprised you for an intimate date night. Quiet, low-key, and a bit of a space all for the two of you. Maybe it was the mood set by the vintage flick and alluring atmosphere, or the cheap wine you both snuck in for this night, but everything just felt perfect.

Perhaps a little too perfect for your liking. The ambience of the night and romantice scenes from said movie left your mind wandering to what else was present.

Or rather who you would rather recreate a scene or two with.

It started off with a few neck kisses that you peppered along his cheek. Then you moved along his neck and bob of his Adam’s apple as your hands gathered in his hair.

“Love…mhhm..w-wait, the movie – mhhn…fuck--.”

Undeterred, you kept on as you kissed along his neck and lips, palming the growing bulge that was starting to brush along your leg. Chills creeped along his back when your voice whispered in his ear.

“I know, but this movie is giving me some ideas…”

As much as he was trying to keep his focus on screen, Adrian’s resolve disintegrated the more your body brushed against his. Letting the last of defenses fall, Adrian coaxed you both to the back of the car. Kisses and touches became more heated as he bottomed for you, whining for more as your touch when you grinded against him.

He started to grow more impatient and growled in frustration as he removed your blouse, pushing away the lace bra you had for this night to where he could feel your breasts.

Skirt hiked up and pants drawn down past his hip bones, you grasped the pink cock between his legs. Teasing just the tip along your entrance threatened to rip the loudest moan from the man, but he dug his nails into your sides instead.

“N-no! Not like that! I—need!”

A slow smile crept along your face, your voice keeping an innocent tone, as a hand stroked him instead.

“What do you need, Adrian?”

The blond tried to gather himself in a somewhat dignified manner before attempting to speak.

“I need you to fuck me. Please. Just ride me. But don’t let them see us! I don’t want the car to shake…”

You leaned down to kiss him silent, lacing your hand in between his as a sign of reassurance.

“I’ll be gentle, baby, don’t worry. You ready for me?”

Once, twice. He swallowed to try and catch his breath before nodding for your approval. Slowly lowering yourself onto him, both of you gasped when he was sheathed inside of you. No matter how many times you did this, you never got tired of feeling full of him.

Looking up at you, Adrian swore he was witnessing heaven a thousand times over whenever he was inside of you.

To you, he was prettier than when this date night had started. Moaning out your name, holding onto your hips or the car door, releasing all the pent-up emotions he had was such an erotic display to you. Even underneath you, Adrian was determined to give you all the pleasure he knew you deserved.

Bucking up his hips to meet yours, he could feel himself teetering that edge but kept grinding into you. Whenever you leaned down to kiss him, it was slow and hard that made you clench tighter around him. Adrian was also generous enough to nick and mark your chest whenever he wanted to be in your arms more.

“So wet, so warm,” was all he could manage before the moans started to get louder. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you knew he was not long after you.

“I – I can’t las—st-!” Throwing his head back, you could see Adrian’s eyes screw shut as he tried to keep his orgasm at bay.

“Cum for me baby, please, I want you to!”

Steeling himself again, Adrian tried to gain that sensation he was chasing. Fire burned through his arms and legs as he mustered the last few thrusts to match your own. Yet you both kept moving as heat grew numb from exertion. Oh you were so, so close.

Finally, the budding sensation broke through the dam and you both cried out in ecstasy. Adrian spilling himself inside of you sent shocks through your body, making you both overstimulate in each other’s touch.

Exhaustion took over you and you fell into Adrian’s toned chest as he held onto you, kissing the crown of your head. As soon as you both had come down from your high, there was a flicker from the car lights next to you both.

Adrian muttered an embarrassed “oh god” before hiding his blushed face in the crook of your neck. Knowing what it meant, you hid your laugh in the crook of Adrian’s shoulder much to his mortification.

“Seems we gathered an audience.”

[omenics]

Hello! I think your Carmilla writing was really nice and was wondering if you could do a request for Alucard, where the reader was also there to help beat his father but stayed behind with him for support etc., a soft romantic relationship would be lovely.

Thank you and don't feel pressured to write this.

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄.

› ..tender moments with your beloved. — sorry this took so long! but here it is. written with fem reader in mind, but written as gn. lmk if i missed anything/used gendered terms for reader!

“It’s late.”

“Vampires don’t need to sleep.” His voice was quiet. Soft. The fire roared beside him, but your night clothes were thin, and even with the flames you shivered.

“You are not a full vampire,” you stated. “You can enjoy the simple luxuries that sleep offers. Come to bed.”

Your final words came close to a plea, a beg, to which he sighed at. He could not refuse such a simple offer, especially not from you as you stood in the doorway, arms crossed as you watched him carefully. He would not hurt you, you knew this, but you watched him. You watched his slight movements and twitches, watched his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. God, he was perfect. Even in the tranquil time of twelve o’clock with dishevelled hair and tired eyes, he was perfect.

He was silent for a while, wood crackling to fill the void.

“Okay,” he said, and he stood. The book in his pale hands shut, and his gaze lingered on the fireplace before he turned to you. His frame was illuminated in an orange light, twinkled with gold that pronounced his blond hair, and his features.

A smile played at your lips, corners twitching up as you moved towards him, taking his pale hands in yours. They were cold, or colder than most. But they were still steady, and you held them with a familiar touch. Your thumbs swiped across the back of his hands, caressing the pale skin as your eyes darted up to his. “Good.” You said, smiling. “Come, the bed had gotten cold. I will need someone to warm me,” you joked, and he let out a breath. A soft smile, different to your coy grin made its way to his face before he shook his head at you.

“Ah, I see.” Adrian mused. “You only wish for me to be a bedwarmer. How hurt am I.” You chuckled at his words, laugh quiet. Your shoulders shook slightly, and your grin grew.

“Precisely. Now come, my love. Join me.” And he did, leaving the hearth of the fire and into a cold, cold bed waiting minute by minute to be warmed by two lovesick idiots.

[saint-siren]

catching feelings? no, i wouldn’t do a thing like that, that’s for sure!

summary: a lil drabble about alucard getting all the (mostly) consequenceless comfort sex he deserves

pairing: alucard x gn afab reader

cw: post season 3, unprotected medieval sex, fingering, somnophilia, unresolved feelings, dubcon if you squint, cumming untouched♥️ masturbation, voyeurism

You were a…friend of Alucard’s. A friendly traveler who’d stayed with him a number of days while waiting out a storm and passing through the area. He was glad for the company but you were very forward about how attractive you found him. Not that he saw this as an issue on its own but it was just… he didn’t know if he should entertain your advances or not, he knew he was attracted to you but he figured it best not to open himself up to anything.

At least, that was the plan. Adrian had tried very hard not to let his cock do his character assessments for him but it happened quite naturally anyway. He had a good feeling about you, he justified. He wasn’t looking for what wasn’t there this time either. You were just a casual traveler who happened to enjoy wine, pretty men and sex, he gathered. You didn’t seem to have many more ambitions to your meeting, you didn’t put on some choreographed seduction. You didn’t know anything about magic, couldn’t have given a fuck about the Belmont hold if he paid you and were only vaguely concerned at the shabby state of the castle you’d be sleeping in. It happened easily after seeing these things, his mind (and cock) justified sleeping with you by rattling them through his brain each time he saw you bend to pick up a book or bring your lips to a glass of wine.

He’d heard you touching yourself doors down from him in the guest bedroom. He could tell you were muffling your moans into a pillow but his keen vampiric hearing would not allow him not to be tortured by it. He shuddered, trying to make himself stop listening, go back to reading his book but his cock won out the war against his brain and he drifted down to your room, opening the door.

You looked up, surprised but he could see he was not at all unwelcome. He swallowed hard at the sight of you half dressed and panting, looking over your shoulder at him. You beckoned him into bed and he wasted no time. He had your legs open, nightgown pushed up under your chin in an instant as he played with your wet cunt which to him was now the best sensation on earth. He managed to retain enough restrain to ask “Is that alright?” as he slid the first finger in even knowing from the way your body bowed and twitched that it was definitely more than alright. He waited for your breathless “yes…I’m alright” for him to slip in another finger…and then another, not giving you any time to acclimate. He leaned in to kiss you instinctively and you responded, the two of you not letting up on your tongues slipping into each other mouths, strings of spit dribbling messily across your chins as he fingered you a bit sloppily. It was hard for him to focus hearing your moans, when he heard a sound he liked, he pressed the spot again and again with a fervor that left your body trembling, with you gasping against his kiss.

Suddenly overwhelmed and clearly close to cumming, you pushed yourself from him, desperately panting “wait, wait.” Clearly wanting to savor the moment just a little more before you came, it registered to him that he had only been at this for about three minutes and already you were at the brink. Adrian gathered you back into his arms firmly, arousal making him bold. “It’s alright, just a little more,” he murmured in that lovely voice of his that went straight to your cunt. You whimpered, taking it until you reached the edge again and strained in his arms, desperate to stretch this moment. You were never one to cum quickly, when you touched yourself, you edged for that purpose—for extending that pleasure, perhaps exceeding it depending on how long you denied yourself. Your body flexed and resisted his hold both from how intense the sensation was and because you wanted to feel it for as long as possible but his quick hands always set you back into the position he needed you to be in so that he could reach that spot inside that drove you insane. Each harsh thrust of his fingers whited your vision and you could do nothing to hold back your own orgasm which came so strongly that you clung to Adrian, your hands gripping his arm so tightly you might’ve worried about bruising that pretty pale skin of his, burying your face in his neck and biting him to contain your sounds.

Adrian came untouched at the bite. You didn’t realize it over your own groaning at first but you heard his gasp and moan and felt the roll of his hips against your backside which felt a bit damp. “Gods,” he groaned, his hands gripping you so tightly you knew he was bruising you. It was all so overwhelming, your pleasure, the touch of another person, the smell of your arousal and the vulnerability. He wasn’t thinking about pleasing his own cock then, all he’d be thinking of was the wet, warm, silken squeeze of your cunt and he’d just…been overwhelmed by the time you bit him. It was such a brazen gesture but the pain, combined with the throb of his cock and the pride he felt at making you a twitching mess culminated in him not even realizing he had been steadily making a mess of himself with precum.

“Fuck,” was all you could say when all was done and you two laid in the damp sheets trying to calm down. It was especially intense for Adrian who had gone so long without sex. It was such a comfort, even though he hadn’t gotten to fuck you properly, that he could have cried. So much touch after years of cold was euphoric and a little sad for him.

The next morning, you woke to him eating you out which you welcomed gladly. He was desperately sucking at your clit as he seemed to purr. Then it was finally, properly fucking you when he was sure he could handle more than a few seconds inside you without coming. Then it was having you on every surface possible. It was sex for comfort on a ridiculous scale. It was so indescribably good to have someone in the castle that was usually full of trauma and good memories turned tragic because of how badly they held up. Whenever he felt lonely, he was on his knees, whenever he was overwhelmed by the sheer scale of what his life had become so quickly, he was fucking you into the bed so hard part of it broke and left it lopsided.

Though, finally, the stormy weather cleared and it was safe for you to move on and you made it clear you did intend to move on which he tried very hard to respect instead of distracting you for another few days with sex. He realized when you were gone that he’d quickly have become addicted to fucking you if you stayed, the castle was filled with unquiet ghosts and he never knew just how much comfort he could take in sex. He would have buried his cock inside you every time some horridly depressing thought came to mind and he’d never deal with anything. That was why it was for the better you were only passing through, you were just too addictive for a person seeking comfort.

You did double back to the castle every once in a blue moon, though. For which he was immensely grateful. Your sparing presence was a healthy enough balance, he figured. It was hard to think logically when he had his mouth on you, honestly. He was grateful to you, for not giving him the chance to fall in love with you, to need more than you were willing to give. But honestly, sometimes, in the quiet of night as he heard the soft whistle of the wind blowing through the castle, he did wish you’d let him know you better. He wished you’d be more than friendly.

But it was all foolishness and loneliness talking. This set up was for the better. He could totally just have casual sex and spend time with you when you were in the area and mend your clothes when they got ripped and…cook your favorite dessert which he had to go to several villages to procure the ingredients for and…fill your satchel with food, medicine and a map and…ask about the family members you were visiting all without making too much of it. Totally.

[pickmans-muse]

Submissive Headcanons Castlevania

TW: mention of triggers, pegging, dacryphilia, safewords, BDSM, shibari, overstimulation, size kink this is Hector’s fault I swear

Adrian/ Alucard

Adrian has always felt caught between two worlds, belonging in neither. He struggles with feeling like a mistake, a failure—especially when he’s alone. This man has depression, we know this. So, what he wants in subbing for you is affirmation and love.

Tell him how beautiful you find him—and try to do it about both halves of him. His golden eyes? Beautiful. His fangs? Beautiful. His sweet face? Beautiful. Make sure you praise and compliment him, as much as you can. He needs to hear that.

If we’re talking about pre-season-three Adrian, this will be easier. He’s still struggling with so much, but he hasn’t met Sumi and Taka yet, and he’s more open and trusting. If we’re talking about post-season-three Adrian? This will be very hard, not because his desires have changed, but because he doesn’t feel safe to express them—and he’s triggered by some things around sex after what happened with Sumi and Taka. He doesn’t want to be vulnerable again, so you’ll have to show him love and affirmation in daily ways to wear down his walls.

Either way, once he’s comfortable enough to have sex with you, Adrian will be a little awkward at first—in a sweet way. Before season three, he’s a virgin, so he’ll have no idea what to do; afterwards, he doesn’t really know that there’s more than one position for sex, and that you can check in with your partner. Be patient with him, okay? He’ll get there, and he’s so pleased when he finds what he likes. But he has a massive sex drive, so every spare minute he will come pleading to you with a boner he wants you to take care of.

Spoiler alert—he likes riding you. Doesn’t matter if you’re pegging him, or there’s a vibrator up there, or what. He wants to sit on your lap or waist and rock desperately against you. Let him—it’ll make him so happy that he’ll cry.

He cries a lot during sex. When he’s overstimulated (he’s sensitive, so that’s basically always), he cries. When he’s happy, he cries. When you’re worshiping his body and telling him how pretty he is? Yeah, you guessed it, he cries.

Check in with him before, during and afterwards. Set up a safeword, and explain how it works. He loves to know you care about him, that you want him to be comfortable and feeling safe. And lots of aftercare—baths, reading aloud in bed together. You get it. Take care of him, give him safety.

Adrian’s favorite thing about subbing for you is when you’re gentle and soft. He loves to feel you kissing him all over, to know that you’re not put off by his scar, to see the love in your face every time. He’s pretty vanilla; he just wants to be loved as he is, without reservations or fear.

Isaac

Yes, I know he doesn’t seem like a sub; bear with me. Isaac may be in control at all times, but for him, control is a measure of safety. If he’s in control and removed from the whole thing, nobody can hurt him emotionally—and under his shell, Isaac has a deeply emotional soul. His emotional pain never goes away, even from when he was a child. He’s never felt loved, but he wants that more than anything.

So, when Isaac does finally experience love, he melts. He discovers that he likes being taken care of, being pampered for no reason at all, by someone he trusts completely to love him. And he leans into that. Whenever you enter the room, he goes from being deadpan and stiff to smiling and immediately beelining for your open arms.

Isaac has a low sex drive, unlike Adrian and Hector, so he’s not going to be the kind of guy who begs you for it constantly (I see you, Hector). On the other hand, he doesn’t believe in half-measures. His first priority during sex is making you come. After that, he kind of spaces out, and you can do whatever you want.

He’s not very sensitive, so it takes a lot to overstimulate him—but he likes it every time. He’s a little kinky, though—because he likes to feel that he’s giving up control to someone who will praise him and worship him and have him melting bonelessly into the bed at the end of the night. His stamina is inhuman; he will go all night when he’s in the mood, so be prepared to keep him occupied the whole time.

There are some hard no’s for Isaac, though—things that remind him of his time being enslaved. No impact play, or ropes, or gags and blindfolds; that’ll freak him out, and he wants to see you. But if you tie him with ribbons, just a slip knot he knows he can get out of in seconds, he’s okay. He doesn’t mind the soft reminder not to move too much, especially if you check in during—and he’s the one who decides when he’ll use a ribbon.

His favorite part of subbing for you would have to be when you break him down fully, when he’s come apart with pleasure and he’s sobbing and moaning with it. It takes a while, but by the end he’s a mess, and that’s the part he lives for. And then when he comes down, and you bathe him and kiss him all over, telling him he’s been so good—he loves that.

Isaac’s the kind of sub who adores and worships you, in and out of bed; because his sex drive is so low, he ends up doing this by giving you massages, reading to you, doing chores, as a way to show that he loves you.

Hector

Hector before season three is very innocent in some ways and very indecent in others. He has an idea of what he likes in bed, and it’s pretty kinky, but he’s never had a partner. After season three, though, having those kinks and his trust misused against him, it’s going to take a long time for him to feel safe with sex again.

When he’s content and happy in a relationship, Hector has the highest sex drive of any of the boys. Pretty much anything you do, especially things where you’re in charge in some capacity, has him getting hot and whiny. Every day, sometimes multiple times, he’s begging you for attention.

Hector is also the kinkiest of the boys. If it’s a subby thing, he’s probably considered it at some point. Shibari? Yup. Overstimulation? All the way. Pet play? Oh, hell yes. have you met him? He loves being a good boy, and if you’re bigger or stronger than him, he’s basically drooling at that. (He won’t admit it, but if you’re a vampire, he’s kinky for that too.) Please manhandle him, tease him, show off your strength and size to control him.

Whether you’re a vampire or not, Hector wants you to bite him. You read that right. Leave hickeys everywhere, mark him as yours—it makes him giddy to know that he belongs to you. He’s very sensitive, particularly around the nipples, so that’s a great spot to tease him. And he loves when you’re protective of him too.

Hector has a particular thing for roleplay. He wants to be your pet, your omega, your servant—you name it. He definitely has a title for you in bed, and if he calls you that not in bed, it means he’s getting horny. However, if this is post-season-three Hector, do not put him in a collar or leash, and do not do pet play. He’s going to silently panic, and then just crumple. He’ll say he can do it—don’t let him. Just stick to other things, and make sure he knows you’re his lover, not his owner.

Favorite part? Probably when you show your dominance in bed. He loves it when you put him in a mating press and just slam into his prostate over and over until he’s drooling and he’s come more times than he can count and he can’t even form words. But he also loves when you gently hold him afterwards, and massage his aches, and stroke his hair.

As a sub, Hector is obedient, kinky, and so pliant. Just love him fiercely, and make sure he knows that you don’t own him. If anything, he owns your heart.

[ruiniel]

Alucard & sick Reader HCs

*totally not inspired by the devilish respiratory illness I'm contending with these days

He may take after his mother in so many ways, but he's still his father's son in having witnessed the consideration Dracula had shown Lisa during their times as a family

It all brushed off on him from a young age: humans need more tending to during times of illness

If Adrian cares, whether in a platonic friendship capacity or whichever way, he will fuss over you, make no mistake

When you're coughing so much your intercostal and abdominal muscles hurt he'll draw you up, hug you against him so you don't cough on your back; outwardly calm and composed while reeling inside (you won't notice anyway)

He'll scour his mother's papers for any aid to ease your state because he can't stand to see you hurting

He'll carry you everywhere when you're too weakened to walk on your own

He'll never let you out of his sight. Some might find that too much, too overbearing, but he's lost so many people he cares about he's taking 0 chances

You're getting homemade cough syrup and medication as soon as he figures out what the main cause and symptoms are, no buts

After all he was Lisa's most devoted apprentice

He'll rest close by, idling in an armchair or standing by the window of your chamber, quiet and unobtrusive but to be around just in case

He'll lend you all the clean shirts you need, help you change out of the wet ones as your body fights fever spells

If you call his name, the book flies from his lap

He'll gently urge you to rise from time to time, to listen to your heart and lungs; there are no stethoscopes yet in the 1400s but his hearing is sharp enough that he can discern your heartbeats or if there's anything worrisome with your lungs. He'll press his ear to your back, following all points of interest

Once satisfied, he'll lie you back down, listening to your mutterings of gratitude with a blank stare, but his lips do alight on your forehead for a fast fever check

He'll lie beside you in your sickbed and hold you close if you get chills, telling you it'll pass, he's here, he'll take care of you

He believes it, too, of course, he can't even fathom other alternatives

Adrian is nothing if not methodical, so once you're better, an immune system boost 'program' awaits.

[m00nchildthings]

ALUCARD X PREGNANT!READER

This story was based off of this one right here: https://www.tumblr.com/m00nchildthings/703854020457021440/mating-press-and-breeding-kink-with-alucard

if anything this can be read as a sequel where he managed to get you knocked up cw for pregnant reader, oral sex one sparing use of the reader being called mama, and alucard being a hovering creep towards you for carrying his child also slight pregnancy kink if you squint not even read over once bone apple teeth🧑‍🍳😙🤌

p.s. @yazzzmints @ch3rryistheg you asked and i delivered

“You’re hovering Adrian”.

“I do not hover,”

You sighed, closing the large ornate tome you had been reading and setting it on the small wooden table beside your chair. He was hovering and whether he was oblivious to it or simply choosing to be obtuse, he was doing it a hell of a lot more recently. You knew why though, you thought as you brought your hand over your swollen stomach. Seven months into your pregnancy and through every step Alucard had treated you and your unborn child like fine china perpetually teetering over a precocious edge.

“You are aware we won’t turn to ash the moment we leave your vision,” you said cheekily staring up at your dhampir lover. His eyes narrowed before he swept past you, moving to sit in the armchair beside your own. He sat there, for a moment beautiful like marble with his eyes closed, before turning to face you.

“I am very well aware of that,” he said, placing his chin in his hand as he peered at you. You hummed, turning away from him, instead choosing to focus on the crackling fireplace in front of you, pretending the warm embers floating around the wood were far more interesting than the golden haired man sitting next to you.

“Then I hope that you are also aware,” you began pausing to take a sip of the tea still hot on your side table “that fathers who hover around the pregnant wives are bound to produce children that do not enjoy their company,”

“That isn’t true,” you could see his brows furrow from your peripheral view, hiding your chuckle behind another sip of tea, you continued.

“It very well might be an old wives tale, but I have heard of children coming out fussy towards their fathers fresh out of the womb-,” you were cut off with a loud swoosh as Alucard gracefully stepped towards you settling down at his knees, hands placed on your stomach.

“You won’t dislike me right?” he directed at your stomach, brow even more wrinkled with worry “Surely they understand I am just so, eager, to meet them right darling?,”

He stared up at you now, golden eyes tense with worry, your lip wobbled as you held back your smile. Here before you on his knees was Alucard Tepes; one of the slayers of Dracula, the feared prince of the night that cut down his enemies like knives through butter- reduced to a simpering thing at the fear your child might come straight from you hating him. You relented not having the heart to tease him any longer you cradled his jaw in your hand.

“I was just teasing my love, surely our child will love you just as much as I,” immediately he relaxed, melting into the palm of your hand. His golden eyes cut up at you a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“You are cruel to do such a thing to your doting lover,” his alabaster hand gripped your wrist as he turned to lay a kiss in the fleshy part of your palm. “I treat you so sweetly and you insist on giving me heart palpitations.

“Consider it payback for what your hellspawn is doing to my body, I can barely make it from here to the door without my swollen ankles and aching spine objecting,” you said, bringing your hand away from him to stretch the intense cracking of your back emphasizing your point.

Alucard stood, staring down at you, he adored your changing body evidence of the growth of his child in you. You’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but something about knowing the swell of your stomach was from your baby growing inside of you, surely you were a goddess gifting him with the gifts of gifts. Bending down he looped his arms around your waist ignoring your grumbles of objection when he picked you up hoisting you into his arms until your knees hung over his elbows.

“Then allow me to be your legs,” you huffed rolling your eyes as Alucard toted you out of your rather comfortable reading room, you knew where he was taking you of course. The looming large ornate doors of your bedroom came into view as Alucard steadily carried you to them.

“Our bedroom,” you said flatly “I wonder what reason you could have for bringing me here Adrian,”

“I have no idea what you are implying deer,” he said, turning to press his back to the door, opening it with your combined weights. Barely holding back his impish grin (a look a great number of others refused to believe existed when you said he did so on the regular) he rushed you to your bed gently placing you on the downy mattress.

“Your feet must be killing you,” he said, gracefully moving to sit beside you and patting his lap. Begrudgingly you laid back against the comforter swinging your aching feet to his lap. He gently massaged your foot pressing his fingers into the soles of your feet soothing the pain that afflicted you. His talented hands seemed to pull all the aches from them knowing how to just work your body from months of repeated practice. A particularly forceful push into your left heel and you couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your throat. Alucard smiled at you gently placing your feet on the bed beside him.

“See? So sweetly,” he said, placing his now free hand on your stomach.

“My body still aches,” you grumbled, still feeling the tension in your back

“I can help with that,”

“Your version of help is what got me into this predicament,” chuckling Alucard slowly spread your legs apart hiking your dress to just under your belly. There laid out before him nestled in a thatch of curls your cunt shined for him, already glistening with arousal. His slender fingers traced up the warm slit of your puffy lips noticing the audible hitch in your breaths

“If you don’t like my version of help then where are your undergarments,” he questioned, knuckles grazing up and down your quivering pussy

“They no longer -mmph- fit,” you moa, turning around to bury your head into the pillow.

“How lucky for me,” he murmured, just barely above a whisper as he sank down till his face was level with your heat “that my favorite snack is but a silk slip away from tongue,”

With one scathing breath his mouth was on you, pink lips pressing toward your own. His tongue wickedly lapped at you running wet circles around your throbbing clit before slipping its way into your clenching cunt. He couldn’t help the vibrating moans, near purrs that reverberated into you, as your juices flooded his taste buds. He couldn't help the way he ate at you ravaging your quim with every fiery stroke through your quivering lips. Your hands tugged at his golden locks pulling him closer and closer to your weeping cunt. How foolish, he thought as he drank up all you had to offer, why pull him close when you both know the last thought on his mind was pulling away?

Your orgasm crested, creeping up on you with each lascivious lick that toyed with your throbbing clit. It was with one particularly harsh suck that had you falling apart, melting apart like butter on warm toast your cunt creamed over your lover's tongue. Undeterred Alucard continued to viciously feast on your juices, moaning as they glossed his face. Clawed hands though gentle, held your hips in place as they began to buck so he could wrap his lips around your clit sucking on the shiny pearl undisturbed.

“A-Adrian please, s’too much I need-,” interrupting you Alucard sighed loudly, releasing your clit with an audible pop.

“You never let me have my fill,” he complained peering up at you over your swollen belly “but I know what you need,”

Rising Alucard reached for his trousers tugging the strings till his cock, heavy with a bead of precum pooling at the tip, fell free. Smiling and flashing those fangs of his wide he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Grabbing at his cock he lined the drooling pink head with your equally wet cunt, rubbing it between your lips and nudging at your clit. Gently he pushed inside of you, hissing as your heat slowly enveloped him till the hilt. The two of you rested there for a moment panting as your limbs tangled about each other. You whined under him, arms reaching towards him, hands making grabby motions for him. Alucard reached underneath you pulling you towards him. You both sat there, connected at your most intimate of places, your sweaty forehead resting on his cool one.

“Adrian,”

“Yes my love?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes my love”

With a low chuffing noise, Alucard thrust up into you once, twice, three times, every one seeming to be deeper than the last. Your mouth hung agape as your lover continuously fucked up into you carving the shape of him deep into your cunt. Moans barely escaped you as every thrust seemed to steal your breath, your eyes stared into the golden ones of your lover unable to look away. Before you could process Alucard's hand gripped your ass holding you towards him as he stood on the bed, steadying his feet in the cushion and using his grip to lift you fast up and down his cock.

“Do you feel me sweet, deep, in here,” he rasped as he bounced you on his cock balls slapping on your ass. His hot breath fanned your face as he used your own weight to fuck you, one particular hard thrust had your eyes rolling back into your skull, and with a rush words escaped you.

“Fuck Adein yes! Fuck me please, I- oh god don’t stop!” you screamed nails clawing into the rolling muscles of his back.

“That’s it mama,” he hissed somehow managing to grip you closer, shifting to the balls of his feet he began to roll his hips up into you to match every bounce of your ass against his thighs “Take it, cum for me, let me feel your silk grip me,”

You don’t know whether it was his words that got you there so quickly or the orgasm he gave you prior, but with a barely audible cry you came walls gripping him tightly as you gushed around him. Alucard grit his teeth at the grip your cunt had him in, thrusting a few times before spilling inside you with a strangled cry. Alucard fell to his knees holding you close as you both bounced on the mattress. He pulled you off him holding back chuckles when you grumbled from the over sensitivity. Gently he laid you down before getting off the bed and leaving towards your bedroom bath chamber. He returned with a warm bowl of water and two warm cotton cloths.

Sitting beside you Alucard dipped the washcloth into the water wringing it before bringing it to your heaving body. Carefully he cleaned you off, wiping the spunk he left at your center. You groaned, pushing at his hands, still feeling far too sensitive. With a chuckle he dropped the now sullied rag once you were clean of him, reaching to prepare the second one he had brought and pressed the soothing cotton to your sweaty brow. Your eyes closed as you let your dhampir lover continue with his aftercare.

“Am I forgiven yet, for breeding you with my -what did you call our child- hellspawn?” he asked golden eyes trained onto your face. With a sigh you looked up at him already having forgotten the remark you had made earlier. A sly smirk tugged at your tired face.

“For the time being leonito,”