Ahhh, I need to get back into my Hellsing brain so I can start writing again next week! Please send asks. Can be about Sabine, Hans, Barrett or anything to do with my hellsingverse please đ
Please see Part I for overall notes; this is sensual/Reader being looked after; blood/biting mention, but there is nothing sexual (sorry!). Part II takes place at an as-yet-unspecified time after Part I.
Your life was routine as it could be, given that you worked for a woman who casually used the world's most fearsome monster as a weapon. You woke up--sometimes in your bed, sometimes where you had crashed after another late night at work--worked your way through whatever Sir Integra needed from you, ate your simple meals, and then worked well into the night attending to all the small things that were always getting postponed to take care of the types of crises the Hellsing Organization got called on to make go away.
You rubbed your hands together and yawned. Probably best to stop soon; this was detail work and best not done when you were this tired. And, as your stomach unceremoniously reminded you, hungry.
You realized that--
"You haven't eaten dinner yet, little human."
You still jumped whenever Alucard manifested himself, but you generally didn't shriek anymore. "You're right, I should go to the kit--"
"No," Alucard said, offering you a hand as you got out of your chair. You were surprised to see he was just wearing his suit. He looked much more...formal without his duster. As always, he was devastatingly beautiful, red eyes and lustrous hair, just the perfect length--slightly unruly, but not overly long.
"It's too late for the kitchens," he said, in a strangely--and seductively--commanding tone. "I have prepared something already."
"That's very kind, thank you."
Alucard offered you a strong arm and your fingers slid over the fine wool of his suit. You were not a tiny thing, but you felt it as he guided you down the halls. He was not so casual or modern as to touch the small of your back or to intertwine fingers; no, in these moments, whatever of the Old Aristocrat, the boy who had been part of a class that saw itself as separate and superior and demanded expressions of that superiority through the flawless performance of prescribed ritual, manifested itself. He walked in march time, gaze always straight ahead, and it was fascinating to see this vestige of court drill still embedded him after all this time.
He opened the door to one of the dining rooms, where the table was appointed with a lace tablecloth, candlesticks, fine dining china, a variety of elaborate ice-packed serving trays, and tools. Laid over one chair was something made of fine-looking, semi-translucent fabrics.
Alucard had taken hold of your shoulders and was rubbing circles with his thumbs as he leaned down and whispered in his deep, plush voice, "Your clothes must be uncomfortable after such a long day. Perhaps those would be more pleasurable."
The part of you that had developed a million different defense mechanisms to shield the soft, romantic core of your heart almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. What ancient and forgotten wardrobe had he found this--goodness, it was an honest-to-God 1930s peignoir and negligee set--garment in? Some inner voice stopped you though, told you that, strange as it might seem, laughing would deeply wound him.
"Let me change," you said. "It's so thoughtful of you--I am sure it will be so much more comfortable."
You availed yourself of an attached cloakroom and grumbled when you realized how right Alucard was: it felt divine to shuck off your skirt suit. It fit fine, but any outfit with waistbands and buttons and pantyhose was going to feel tiresome after a 12+ hour workday. The cotton of the nightgown was incredibly soft and you actually felt beautiful when you saw how it showed hints of your lingerie underneath and showed off your décolletage. The silk of the robe caressed and soothed in all the ways that nylons never could.
Alucard met you in the doorway, first smothering your hand in kisses, and then once again offering his arm so he could escort you to the table. The candles were lit and the table was set with smoked salmon and a variety of caviars on ice. A flute of champagne was already bubbling away. He pulled out your chair for you and then took a seat to your left. You began plucking plump looking pieces of smoked salmon and digging into the caviar vessels with a spoon (a proper mother-of-pearl spoon, of couse). The grey-golden pearls and the iridescent streaks in the spoon glistened in the candlelight.
It was so good, the contrast of the fatty fish and the salty, briny caviar further cut by the dry, sparkling champagne. The fine, flimsy fabric allowed you to feel the intricate wood carving in the chair, the details in the upholstery's brocade, the depth of the pile of the carpet. This was incredibly relaxing, and you marveled at the vampire's ability to know how badly you had needed this.
Alucard watched you devour the caviar with an inscrutable look. He regarded his own goblet with a bit of resignation. You locked eyes with him and smiled very big to try and convey how appreciative you were.
"Sometimes, I miss the ceremony of feasting."
"Then feast from me."
The declaration surprised you both. "You freely offer this?" he asked. You nodded firmly, adding a verbal, "Yes, I do."
He reached out and took your hand, pulling you across his lap. You presented your neck to him, and here he did not hesitate. You gasped at the intrusion into you neck and whimpered as he drank: it was pain and pleasure and strange euphoria for both of you.
When he lifted his head up and took a deep breath of satisfaction, you lifted your own head up to kiss him, but he gently put a gloved finger to your lips and took a fine linen napkin off the table, blotting the blood that had been trickling down your neck, just before it stained your gown.
As he held the ruined napkin aloft, he chuckled. "Master will be so irritated," he said, boyish amusement in his eyes.
He insisted you eat a bit more to regain some strength and to be sure you were truly sated. When you could eat no more, you stood up and walked to his chair to ask to dance with you, but, as you opened your mouth to ask, you yawned.
He took you in his arms, eyes taking in your breasts, which were pressed into him, before he spoke. "Time to sleep, my dear."
You were about to protest, when you were taken by a sudden swoon of exhaustion. Alucard was staring at you intently.
"You allowed me to drink, and after such a long day, little human. We will dance another time." You opened your mouth again, not wanting this night to end, but he stopped you.
"I said, time to sleep, little human."
You began to drift off as though under a spell, but you knew Alucard was carrying you toward the bedroom where you usually slept when you worked late. In the bedroom, there was a dresser with a great mirror over it across from the bed.
The last thing you saw before you succumbed to slumber was a vision of yourself in the mirror, wrapped in diaphanous ivory, your body limp in the arms of a tall, well-built, dark-haired man who was gently lowering you into a soft bed. You were the Sleeping Beauty of your silliest fantasies that had been stoked by Disney films and fever-dream nineteenth century canvases. You hoped that the smile you felt in your heart had made it to your lips for Alucard to see.
When you awoke the next morning, not to an alarm, but to the gentle glow of the morning sun through the sheer drape, you could see in the giant mirror that your hair was rather attractively messy and the cotton nightgown, whisper-soft against your skin, enveloped you like a cloud. The silk and lace peignoir was arrayed at the foot of the bed as though it were staged for a photoshoot
Alucard had left your keys, pocketbook, and calendar on the nightstand. You used the bookmark to open your datebook, and without thinking, flipped to the next page to see what you had on for today.
You smiled softly and your eyes misted when you saw that today was February 15th.
The duality of hellhound
OG idea by @elk-hound
Happy Birthday, Madara Uchiha! [24.12.12]
I have a personal fluffy hc for Alucard in which he uses his shadows to display human feelings. He'd unknowingly wrap his beloved in his shadows of he's either laying beside them or on their lap while their playing with his hair or humming him a tune or talking and he can't help those warm giddy feelings that his mate brings out of him and the next thing they know his beloved has inky shadows crawling around them with a couple of eyes staring at them meanwhile he's purring away in delight đ
Hello, what are your Alucard (Hellsing) nsfw headcanons? Also, what kinks do you think he would have? Thank you!
Apologies for the late reply!
Contents: MDNI, NSFW, xreader, use of 'you' in regards to the reader, biting, blood, dacryphilia, Alucard genuinely in love
--
I've always sort of believed that Alucard, despite all the blood and murder, is a pretty caring lover. He always struck me to be the silent doting type. Maybe even teasing a little from time to time. He likes to make you blush and he loves to have you wrapped up with him- in his coat, in his bedsheets, in his arms- he doesn't care what he just wants you close and loves to keep his nose buried in your neck or hair.
When it comes to sex it hardly differs. Alucard is very tender and serious. Not that he's unable to have a laugh, but that he takes times like that very seriously. He's much stronger than you, he knows this, so he's careful to treat you tenderly. If you ask, however, he will be rougher. He'll almost always do what you tell him.
I'm sure he has a few kinks. I mean, living so long how can you not? Yet, he's surprisingly vanilla for a vampire, especially one as ancient as him. Biting, for one, is very exciting. The thrill of tasting your blood while being inside of you is like nothing else. It makes him feel even closer to you. A part of you. Alucard loves to overwhelm you in the best way possible- to make you so brainless that you're either thinking of only him or nothing at all. He loves seeing you messy as well. It's so raw and human to see you wrecked and sobbing because of him. So beautiful to him that you can be rendered so helpless... and so perfect that he's there to hold you while you shake and hiccup from an orgasm he pulled forth from you.
Being restrained by someone he trusts is something Alucard has been shown to enjoy. Mental restraints are more preferable. Placing a verbal restriction on him. Telling him to 'wait' to 'be patient' or even telling him what to do, where to do, or how to do... are all equally as exciting. It's more fun for him when he is controlling himself. When you have so much power that you could have anything, it's more fun to hold back. And giving a measly human power over him? It gets his blood rushing in the best way possible.
But most of all, Alucard likes to make sure you know he loves you dearly. You're incredibly important to him, a sanctuary away from everything in his life that creates a muddledness in his mind. He takes his time with you always. Alucard always waits until he can catch you at a time where you're both alone and in no rush. Even if he's dizzy with want for you, he will wait. It's part of his own game with himself. Seeing how long he's able to restrain himself until he's cornering you in the darkness of your bedroom and whispering to you if you'll have him. He knows loving you is a dangerous thing for what is left of his heart. But whatever human is left within him cannot help but love you fervently and passionately.
On AO3
For my fan @margretesonigiri. Happy Murder Monday đȘ
Warnings: partially NSFW, romance, drama, conflict resolution, lots of dialogue, gratuitous smut, love making, cunnilingus, 69, face sitting, body worship, unprotected sex, mating press, breeding kink
The smut is under the cut. For readers who donât do smut/are underage, you can skip the long sex scene and the ending will make sense. SFW version of the chapter here. Words: 7759
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It was well over a month before you saw each other again. At first, Madara assumed both you and him needed time to decompress after the last encounter. Madara knew your shift schedule, which you previously provided to facilitate the planning of outings. You also mentioned another wave of school hitting. After weeks of radio silence from you, he figured you likely were very busy lately, but if your lack of contact was your playing of games with him, he wasn't engaging.
So he left for the conference in Japan for several weeks. The trip went well, all things considered.
His mood was foul for much of these last weeks, even while conducting business. The idiot Hashirama thought it was appropriate to venture a joking guess, asking if his âgloomy faceâ was perhaps the result of the plague of romantic woes. The other brother, shrewd and opinionated, thankfully stayed quiet. Madara swore he would have stabbed Tobirama in the head if he was forced to endure prodding from another nosy Senju.
This was until Izuna decided he could comment on Madaraâs life as well when they returned from Japan. Madara snapped back, rudely informing his little brother there was no issue, that his personal affairs were none of Izunaâs concern. The boorish boy dared to jeer at him, emphatically remarking that he should âjust go see you again,â as if he made no attempts to contact you before the conference.
Staring daggers at nothing, he thought back on how you tried to return his keys that doomed night when he brought you home from your penthouse. As if he, Uchiha Madara, would take back an item he had gifted another. Your tears had finally ceased and you were disturbingly calm. When he wouldnât accept repossessing the keys and attempted to reason with you again, your expression broke. You told him âmoney doesnât solve everything.â Falling apart once more, you bid him goodbye while stuttering and left those keys on the passenger seat before easing the door shut behind you.
Stubborn woman. Similar to Izuna, there were times when you were childish in temperament. He already showed you who you were to him, yet you didnât understand and left. Between you and him, someone had to be the adult.
Madara strode across his office, feeling thunderous as he recalled the memories he made with you. It seemed his thoughts were completely occupied by you lately. He thought back on your fingers tangled in his that treasured day when you searched together for Izunaâs gift, how you beamed at him in delight at your house, and your shocked expression during your first kiss with him. He remembered your juvenile jokes, the first time you approached him for a kiss and how you came to relax into his touch.
He relived your tears and self-deprecating words, how you shrank from him when he confronted you, and the way you offered yourself to him, as if that must have been all he wanted from you, before you walked out. Madara glowered bitterly as his mood darkened even further.
Despite everything that happened, time was the master of the heart. Even if he was surly during the initial days following that party and while abroad, after so long, MadaraâŠmissed you. He did not want to be apart any longer. Wishing for reconciliation and to bridge the distance that grew between you, he texted, asking if now was a good time to call. To his surprise, you agreed to speak with him.
---------------
You let the remaining seconds on the timer run out before absentmindedly fishing the udon from the broth. Ladling toppings into a bowl and spooning soup in, you poured piping hot liquid onto your other hand. You yelped in agony, hands flying up in shock and accidentally dumping more scalding soup over yourself and the stove.
You ground your teeth together and shouted in frustration. Mentally pushed beyond the limits, you whipped the damned ladle away, sending it crashing into a vase and knocking it over, fine crystal shattering in a flood of water and shards. Your fresh roses spilled onto the dining table. Roses for romance, now laying in a pool of broken glass. You snorted, the symbolism not lost on you.
Everything was a mess. Your home, your mind, your life. You were incredibly despondent these past weeks despite being swamped, consumed with writing several essays for your program. It was stupid BS. Did you really need to be in a Masterâs program in anything to know itâs beneficial to be respectful when talking to someone? Okay, you were exaggerating if you said that was all your program was about, but there was so much fluff in comparison to the amount of material that was useful towards your future role as a Clinical Nurse Specialist or Nurse Practitioner.
You were also pushed to distraction by thoughts of a certain man. It was nearly impossible to focus. You cursed your stupidity for ever getting involved with him.
Your phone pinged, the cheerful sound grossly at odds with your turbulent mood.
It was him. He inquired if it was a suitable time to call now, informing again of how much he wished to hear from you.
Ready to turn that page in the final chapter involving him, you had been prepared to never see Madara again, convinced nothing can come out of staying associated except the promise of more pain.
âŠClearly you also missed Madara dearly over the past weeks. It was as if the sun disappeared from your life and all that remained was a bleak landscape of dreariness, devoid of warmth and vibrancy. Longing compelled you to speak with him, to hear his lovely voice again.
Your ringtone sounded immediately.
âHello? Madara?â
âY/N?â You jolted at his voice from a single word, the part of your heart that was numb throbbing in pain.
ââŠHow have you been, Madara?â
âHn. Iâve experienced better days in my life. Y/N, you sound exhausted.â Madaraâs voice was flat like he was also lacking sleep, yet it sounded as if he was holding back. Like he had much he wanted to tell you.
âYeah, I had a bad shift today.â
âI thought you didnât work today.â
âIt wasnât originally on the schedule I gave you, but I picked up. I needed the extra shift.â
Madara was quiet for a moment. Were you financially stressed? He frowned on his end, then spoke up. âI would like to see you again.â He had no desire to throw your relationship away. It must be mended, somehow.
He wanted to barrel back into your life again?! Just when you regained some measure of functionality by throwing yourself into school and work, drowning yourself in your professional life to prevent your personal demons an opportunity to revisit your thoughts, you hear from Madara again. For several weeks, you hadnât been ready to see him before he went to Japan. By now, you were almost certain he must have gone on his trip and moved on as well.
Besides, what was there to say? After the fiasco that first and last time Madara brought you to a major event, you werenât even sure how to face him anymore.
âNot tonight Madara. It was a disaster at work and Iâm not emotionally sound right now. I donât want to have another meltdown in front of you,â you told him and laughed in an attempt to make light of the conversation.
Madara wanted to tell you he did not mind if you broke down, that he was there to support you in times of weakness. He held his tongue, figuring that what not what you needed to hear and pushing harder at this time would only serve to drive you away again.
âHow about another day? One when you are free and well-rested,â he suggested.
Part of you wanted to refuse him, but after all the care and kindness Madara showed you, how could you do that to this man? If nothing else, you both at least deserved closure.
âOne chance, Y/N. Give me one more chance,â he continued. âPlease.â
You were weak. With a lump in your throat, you found you couldnât refuse your loveâs heartfelt request.
âGive me a few more days to rest and unwind, then we can meet here.â
You ate your dinner udon in silence amongst the chaotic pile of broken dreams, surrounded by shattered glass, forgotten rose stems, and spilled tears.
---------------
Madara arrived at your house at your invitation, pausing outside to mentally rehearse what he wanted to tell you. He was determined to resolve your differences and reenter each otherâs lives.
You opened the door for him. His frustration with the situation was ever-present, but his previous vexation at your actions dissolved upon laying eyes on you for the first time in so long. There you were, dressed comfortably in your pajamas, tiny in comparison to his size. You looked slightly tired and your eyes were mildly swollen, but your gaze was focused on him.
Your mind went blank the moment you heard the knock. Greeting him softly, you blinked at the large plant in his hand. It was a pot of phalaenopsis, or a moth orchid, the most common type of commercial orchid available because it can be tricked into flowering year-round. It was nothing special or exotic compared to your collection, but the gift Madara bore was white. White orchids were a symbol of sincerity. Madara was normally meticulous, but you wondered if he knew that or if the colour was merely a fluke. Your breath hitched when you caught a glimpse at the bundle in his other arm.
It was a dramatic bouquet filled with tulips, lilies of the valley, peonies, and carnations⊠all flowers of apology. Tulips were perennials that flowered year after year and represented new beginnings and peace, but these tulips were also in red to emphasize it was safe for you to trust Madara. White peonies represented shame for how he acted and a desire to right wrongs, and carnations not in pink, but red, expressed an aching heart and unyielding affection. There was a cut stem of giant cymbidium orchids within the bundle. Cymbidiums could mean many nice things, one of those being pure love.
This was no fluke. You stared at the bouquet to ensure you werenât seeing things or getting your floral trivia incorrect. Madara was indeed expressing his great regret and a sincere desire to mend wrongs in a nonverbal way which was more natural to him. You swayed when you raised your shocked eyes to meet his. His expression was simultaneously grave, yet hopeful.
You invited Madara inside and closed the door behind him.
He stood by the entrance, not doing anything to remove his dress shoes or jacket. Instead, he watched you, waiting solemnly for you to take his offerings.
It was already late March and spring was quickly approaching, the biting chill of winter not nearly as harsh as the last time you met. Will this be a mistake? New beginnings. With a shaky breath, you accepted the white potted orchid and bouquet from Madara. The plant enthusiast in you wordlessly filled a spare vase with water and arranged the gorgeous bouquet. Once properly organized, it puffed up in a pretty display of red and white âdelicate, bell-like lilies surrounded large fluffy flowers, the arrangement dotted with elegant tulips and a strip of pinkish-orange cymbidiums down the middle. Your chest clenched when you contemplated the deep meaning behind its beauty. What Madara wanted to tell you.
Madara continued to stand near the door as he silently observed you tread around your home. âWhy are you apologizing so excessively?â You asked, gesturing at the array of quality blooms. âYou are not at fault for anything.â
Madara hesitated, aware the minutes ahead will bring him to a position that will make him too vulnerable for comfort. He frowned. Your disposition was too polite, too formal with him. You wouldnât even look at him. Neither did you truly invite him inside and offer him refreshments like the model hostess you were the last time he came over. It was like you were expecting him to state what he needed and leave.
He resented your aloofness and his part in bringing about this change in your demeanor around him. When it came to his emotions and those softer feelings you evoked, speaking candidly was difficult for Madara. He did not relish exposing himself, but this was a conversation that needed to happen. And if it would help you understand just how much you meant to himâŠ
Madara had thought of what to say over the last two days, but upon seeing you, it was like his preparations vanished into nothingness. Not wanting you to ask him to leave, he needed to find his words again quickly.
âThat is not true. There are many assertions I delivered poorly. I should never have been harsh to you, even if the sentiment was honest and that part I will not retract.â It was so like Madara to be painfully blunt even when he was trying to express remorse, it was almost comedic.
âWhich part was that?â You asked wearily. Your heart seized, not ready to bear Madaraâs gut-wrenching judgment again, but also knowing you and him needed to speak, that avoidance was no longer an option. You glanced again at Madaraâs bouquet.
âThat your sense of inferiority was unbecoming. I should never have spoken to you in such a way. For that, and the other words when I drove you home, I apologize. IâŠdidnât want to cause you pain. However, I maintain that that feeling of yours is misplaced and unnecessary. I would not have pursued if I thought you inadequate. We are equals if we are to be together.â He fixed you with a level stare which you returned with uncertainty.
You mulled over his words, remembering your realization at the end of the last confrontation with Madara at his penthouse, before he pulled you into his arms and let you weep. Madara wanted you for you.
You allowed Madara inside, bringing him to be seated at the same couch where he first realized the depth of his feelings for you. You awkwardly pulled out a chair from the adjacent dining table, but didnât venture closer.
âDonât you see we are from completely different worlds? Worlds that were never meant to collide if it wasnât for the stupid dating site. What future is there for us? We arenât meant to be together.â
Clenching his fists, Madaraâs face stayed serene. He sighed, running a hand through his mane.
âInitially, it was Izunaâs bright idea to join that website on my behalf, but I only agreed to such an obscene plan because I saw you. There was no other woman I desired seeing. It was a coincidence that our paths crossed again after so many years, so even if I found the concept of that site distasteful, if there was the possibility to properly court you, I would utilize such a platform.â Madara paused, noting his tension and consciously ordering his hands to open.
âI was on that blasted site to find you. Our relationship was never of the sort suggested by the dating site that brought us back together.â He gritted out. He stood and came over, hand reaching for your face, the need to touch you again driving him to insanity. To his relief, you allowed his touch and made no attempts to stop him.
âWhatever future you desire, we can create together. I want to be with you,â he continued.
Madara stalled briefly, then kneeled before you and took your hands in his, the determination in his eyes unwavering.
âI am not a man of pretty silver-tongued words. You should know that.â Your eyes started to water as you acknowledged Madaraâs statement. âMonths ago, you said you liked me. Does that still hold true?â He asked.
A relationship took effort from both ends. You remembered every sweet moment you created together and the way Madara always tried for you. You recalled his fierce defence of you from that other woman. And his terrible words in the car as he drove you home, but also how he endeavored to make contact again to work things out while you fled.
You blinked at him to try stopping the tears that threatened to fall, trembling in his hands. Knowing he appreciated honesty, you replied, âOf course. I never stopped.â
Madara let out a breath he didnât know he was holding. His expression completely transformed and a brilliant smile lit up his face. Looking at your hands, he stroked your palms. âY/N, I will tell you this once: you are exactly who Iâve been searching for all these years. And there is nothing in this lifetime that keeps us apart.â He lifted his gaze back to yours, his face now closer. âI promise I will always take care of you, if you'll let me. You will want for nothing,â he vowed.
âIâŠtrust youâŠâ you rasped, still trying to wrap your head around how someone like Madara would want to be with a regular person like you.
Madaraâs entire being rocked with your confession. How he needed to hear those words. âI wonât let you down.â
âWhy are you so good to me?â
There was no need for Madara to reply. The answer was in his eyes. You knew. You must have known some time ago that he loved you. You merely didnât know how to respond to the intensity of his devotion.
âIâm sorry too. Iâm sorry for ignoring you all this time even when you tried to make amends before going on your trip,â you whispered.
He leaned in with his head angled up to press his lips to yours.
âMove in with me, Y/N. I'm serious. I was serious from the beginning. Share your life with me."
You made a pained noise and reached for him, hands entwining behind his neck to bring him closer. Your foreheads touched. You too will try harder with Madara. For him, youâll be better than you are. Instead of giving up now, you will give yourselves another chance to speak each otherâs language and understand one another.
âI like bouquets, but next time, donât buy me cut orchids. Cutting their flowers is a travesty knowing how long it takes to nurture and grow them.â You sniffed, but smiled against his lips.
âYour wish is my command.â He glanced at your collection of exotic plants and tried to entice you with your hobby. âIf you enjoy greenery this much, you can plant whatever you like if you move into my main residence with me and Izuna. We can have a lawn full of cherry blossom trees and build a greenhouse, hire gardeners to assist you. Whatever you want.â
âMadara? That might be the most attractive thing you said to me all day.â
---------------
âStay the night?â Now that Madara was here, you didnât want him to leave, as if you were afraid you would have to wait another lifetime to see him again.
Madara agreed readily, raising a sophisticated brow when you suggested he take your bedroom while you slept on the sofa bed in the other bedroom. âJust trying to be a good hostess,â you explained, grinning bashfully.
âI would feel your hospitality more deeply if my hostess didnât disappear,â he teased. You giggled, grabbing his hand and leading him to your room, as relieved as Madara that your relationship remained intact. That not everything was lost and you both fell back into your prior dynamic without the strain with relative ease.
He settled next to you and pulled the sheets up. At first, you lay side by side with some distance remaining between you. Screw it. You missed Madara and he missed you. That much was clear after tonight.
You shimmied up to him and he wrapped an arm around your waist. Bringing his lips to yours, he nipped and prodded, entering your mouth as soon as access was granted.
You were breathless when you separated. âI missed you. I miss this,â you murmured against his ear sleepily.
âHn,â he grunted in agreement.
Already back to his silent ways. You smiled broadly in the dark.
âUmâŠare you sweating?â
âGo to sleep,â came the gruff answer.
There was no ignoring the growing damp cold. Realization dawned on you âMadara was always warm. He must be broiling under your linens. Your mouth fell open. âD-do you normally sleep naked? If youâre hot, youâŠcan take off your clothes if you want.â Your wording sounded horrible! Cringing in dismay, you thought about what else you could do for him.
âI donât want to make you uncomfortable.â
âThereâs no sense in having you suffer this way. Youâll make me a bad hostess.â He was much too conscientious. And in your mind, Madara was already adequately hot. No need to cause him to melt.
Fabric rustled and you felt a breeze touch your face as Madara discarded his clothing somewhere in your room before he returned to you.
His length pushed into your stomach. You knew Madara possessed an athletic muscular build, but being pressed against his bare body was an experience that made you heat up with desire and embarrassment. It wasnât unpleasant at all.
The interesting, but welcome, turn of events leading to this moment tonight made Madara smile warmly and hold you closer.
Madaraâs self-control was unworldly. You basked silently in each otherâs presence, secure in the knowledge you still belonged to one another. Slowly, you relaxed into his embrace, your mind slipping into the realm of dreams. There was no funny business to be had tonight.
---------------
Madara invited you to his main house on a day Izuna was not in residence. He had plans for you today; plans he didnât need his overzealous brother around for.
Gaping in wonder, you turned in a circle. Every new perspective granted ornate wonders. If you thought the ballroom and Madaraâs penthouse were extravagant, this manor went well beyond what those venues offered. It was modern in style, but possessed an old world charm that was difficult to describe. Coffered ceilings dropped down to meet carved pillars and paneled walls. Antique Japanese wooden furniture and furs sat on luxury stone or hardwood floors. The choices were tasteful and nothing was overdone.
Madara brought you around the mansion for a tour. After multiple sitting rooms, waiting rooms, offices, guest rooms, saunas, and pools, your head spun as you were led down yet another corridor. Servants who came across you and Madara bowed in deference.
âI am going to get lost here,â you whined. Your entire condo was smaller than one of his closets.
âYou will find your way around quickly, Iâm sure.â You were sure you would as well if you didnât want to be the subject of so many curious glances.
Madara made sure you were treated like a queen. You spent the rest of the day with him, curled against him on a velvet sofa while watching an assortment of movies in the home theater and gorging yourself on meals that must have been prepared by a Michelin star chef in the dining room. You washed and soaked in a scented bath that was fit for a goddess. You played foosball together, but of course he didnât let you win easily.
The door shut and locked behind Madara. You knew why he brought you to his bedroom tonight. You felt nervous, but you too wanted to see this through. This was a long time coming.
[Long smut scene under the cut. You can skip to the end if you want]
Gazing at him fondly, you proceeded to start removing your clothing, but was stopped by Madara stilling your hands. He stared back at you hotly. After everything, he was going to undress you himself.
Slowly, tantalizingly, like he was unwrapping a priceless gift, he rolled the hem of your shirt over your stomach. You raised your arms to help him take it off. Reaching for your back, he kissed you as he undid the clasp on your bra, never breaking eye contact.
The sun crested the horizon in your life again. You rubbed your hands against his chest and torso, appreciating the hardness of his body, and carefully unbuttoned his shirt one at a time until it fell open to reveal his skin. You stared reverently at the art that was his body.
He didnât let your eyes wander for long, unfortunately, eagerly coming back to rest his palms on your hips and pull you to him. You sought his lips again as you ran your hand through his silky hair, pleased with how you finally got to do that. A hand grasped your rear and squeezed. Rolling your butt against Madaraâs paw to encourage him, you guided his other hand to the hem of your pants. He dipped his fingers under the cloth to feel the skin on your hip.
Not needing further prompting, two large hands suddenly found themselves beneath your underwear, grabbing, kneading, pulling your butt cheeks apart and smooshing them back together as Madara groped you shamelessly. Flushing in embarrassment, you averted your gaze as you realized you liked his manhandling.
He had you against the wall, not even a few feet into his room when he made you lose your pants and underwear. You stood fully naked, feeling so exposed. Fidgeting, you shyly covered your mound with one hand and draped a forearm across your chest, your cheeks burning.
"Enough. No more hiding or running. Show me," he commanded. Not long ago, it seemed you were getting ready to leave his life forever. Thinking back on that time put an unsavoury taste in his mouth. That didnât matter anymore, Madara thought distantly. What mattered now was the woman before him, who chose to stay despite his blunders.
You obeyed, hesitantly slipping your hands to the side to reveal his prize.
You felt so self-conscious. Surely he had countless better partners before âones with a more desirable figure, possessing more experience and who could please him better than you knew how. You felt you didn't belong with him in his inner sanctuary, but tried to reason with yourself. Remember Madara chose me. You squirmed, but remained uncovered for his inspection.
Madara was breathless. He ravenously consumed the spectacular sight of your nakedness, your body perfect to him in every way. Obsidian eyes followed the curves of your figure, enthralled by the angles on your collarbones, the tips of your breasts, and the smooth expanse of your torso. There was so much to see, so much to touch and explore. He will have all of you. His gaze dropped further south until he made acquaintance with your kitten for the first time.
âI want you,â he growled.
His tone woke a primitive part of your mind which shuddered in nervous anticipation. âYou may have me.â
Nudging you flush to the wall with his own body, he got to work. His kisses were firm, more possessive than during the day. They demanded you yield to him, greedy hands matching their owner and squishing into your plush breasts and hips. He traveled to provide the same treatment to your buttocks and thighs, sucking your lips as he grabbed wherever his hands could find purchase, molding you into playdough for his enjoyment.
He kneeled before you again, though the mood was much different this time. He tilted his head to flicker his tongue against the surface of your mound as fingers prodded at your vulva, digging into the plump flesh and parting them to discover the treasure within. He salivated from his sampling taste. Bringing his mouth to suck at your clit, he then lapped at your smaller inner lips, the silken skin intoxicating. He had waited so long for this, and at last, here you were with him. Not enough.
A fingertip pulled back your clitoral hood and brushed directly against the most sensitive spot on your body. Forget playdough, Madara was determined to liquefy you, beginning with your legs. Knees giving out as you bucked in shock, you almost fell on his head. He chuckled as he pinched lightly at the little nub several times in between licks.
You continued to squirm, attempting in vain to escape Madaraâs sweet torment by twisting and pulling away, the sensations too much to bear. Madaraâs sinful mouth held fast to your crotch and followed your slow descent to the floor, his long raven hair pooling around him on the floor.
âWait! Madara, what about you? I want to touch you too!â
âPatience. You will have me,â he promised huskily without pause in his actions.
He lay you down and spread your legs, earning his first good look at your pussy after removing your offending hands from obstructing his view. She was so pretty, so little and delicate next to his brutish strength. He softened for a moment and rubbed your calves adoringly to remind you that he was also yours. He eyed your puckered rosebud, promising himself the opportunity another day if you were interested.
Madara was steadfast in his sensuous manipulations of your body. He licked down your body from your throat to your collarbones, journeying down to squeeze and twirl around twin breasts. His trail left goosebumps in its wake. He made his way to your belly, his soft touches unintentionally tickling your senses as he kissed your abdomen and pelvis.
You watched through hooded eyes while he settled his bulk between your legs and ate you, your hands gently caressing his face and scalp. He was hungry, animalistic, his nostrils flaring as he buried his nose and scented your most intimate parts. He fluctuated between light and hard touches to your poor clit, his lips lapping and tugging at your inner labia, sometimes alternating by sucking on your vulva whole. Suddenly he looked up at your face. You gasped, unable to form words as his full appearance registered. His eyes were wide with freakishly dilated pupils, his stare as dark as the abyss. Wild lust emanated from him when he made a show of licking his lips and fingers while holding your gaze.
Maybe the image of the decorous gentleman he presented was only to reel you in.
You whined low in your throat, shaking. Your pussy oozed, the pleasure he pulled from your nether parts did away with all thoughts of decency.
âMadara, please let me see and touch you. I canât wait anymore! I want to make you feel good too.â You tugged on his bangs to interrupt his meal.
He grinned at you. âYou think I donât glean pleasure from this?â He straightened out on his knees, towering above your splayed form to show you. The huge bulge stretching the front of his slacks was proof enough. âI could eat your pussy every day for breakfast and find myself sated.â He laughed at your awestruck expression upon encountering his clothed erection for the first time.
âBut if you insist, very well.â Madara plucked you from the floor as he stood, cradling your cherished form as he strode across the dimmed room and carefully deposited you in his bed. Goodness, his bed was something monstrous. It was surely custom-made and much larger than the standard king sized, silk sheets and pillows adorning the plush mattress. You felt tiny sinking in.
He lay down close by and guided you on top of him, turning you around so you straddled him, but backwards. Your face was at his groin and yours hovered over his face.
âTake what you want,â he told you with a smirk you were unable to see, again running his tongue lengthwise up the inner surface of your snatch.
You jumped with a squeak. Determined to not be outdone entirely, you brought shaky hands to his pants, popping open the clasp and lowering the zipper. Gulping, you parted the opening to his slacks, heart pounding in anticipation as his tented boxers came into view.
âWhatâs wrong? Stopping there? I thought you wanted to see more,â he taunted with a Cheshire grin. You pouted indignantly, quickly pushing down his boxers and pants past his rear as Madara helpfully lifted his ass to assist your efforts.
A semi-hard piece of meat swung and almost smacked you in the face. It sat proudly in the warm room.
âOh my God,â you sputtered.
Madara dared snicker at you! âIt is too early to pray, Y/N,â he informed you.
The nerve of this man! You were no blushing virgin, even if Madara had you feeling like one. You huffed, dropping your head to peek at his face from between your legs. He didnât catch you looking because he was captivated by the sight of your cute vagina winking at him from mere inches away. Your opening was barely visible.
His cock bobbed in excitement, pre-cum already beading invitingly at the tip and dripping to his pelvis. The erotic scent of his musk hit you, encouraging you towards depravity. You wrapped a hand around him to weigh his heft and licked from base to tip experimentally. He hissed. His cock was too thick. Your fingers couldnât enclose his massive girth, making you worry about how he will fit once the main course was served.
You continued your explorations. Running a finger down his length to trace several veins, you petted his penis and scrotum, playfully jiggling the firm orbs in their loose sack. You giggled and tried to take him deep in your mouth, failing early from his sheer mass rapidly occupying the space, your lips stretched to their fullest and his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You made a discontented sound, resolving to practice much more with Madara until you could suck him back whole.
He moaned in a quiet exhale, pausing his slurps to your clit and vulva briefly.
The sensation of a thick muscle sliding into your hole drove you into a frenzy. Your keens and pants filled the room. Madara twirled his tongue inside you, needing to taste all of you as he continued pressing skilled fingers to your bud. There was no more embarrassment from you, a base need possessing your mind as you were at last skin-to-skin with Madara.
You rode his face, soaking him in your slick. You were distracted from the sensations Madara elicited, no other man having ever come close to bringing you to this point before. What was this feeling? You couldnât focus enough to keep blowing him. You massaged his member, pulling until silky skin wrinkled and sliding it backwards to retract it. Burying your face into his lower pelvis with your nose against his privates, you could only manage a few swipes of your tongue to Madaraâs shaft as he devoured you like you were his buffet.
The act of drinking his goddessâ nectar directly from its source shot through his caveman brain to his rod, now harder than steel. He split your legs wider and you held the position for him to feast. You were like a honey pot.
He slipped a finger inside your needy cunt and quickly added a second. You were tight. He groaned. It was going to feel so good in there. Your lover rubbed the pads of his fingers around and curled them to investigate the ridges of your walls, to begin his lifelong study of the altar that was your body. He pressed into the furthest reaches of your sheath to trace circles around your cervix, making you whimper.
You remembered through the fog. âThe string you feel at the back is my implanted contraception,â you told him.
âHn. Good.â
Madara lay beneath you, one hand plundering your hole and rubbing your clit. His other hand found a breast, teasing the nipple until it formed a pebble. He relished the soft moans he coaxed from your lips and causing your uncoordinated movements as you attempted to stimulate him in return. It wasnât necessary tonight, but he appreciated your efforts. Tonight was all about you. He was rock hard regardless of what you did.
You gasped and writhed, begging for mercy as you were driven into sensory overload. Yet you gyrated against Madaraâs lips, sitting on his head hard and sucking his balls, you grabbed his face and humped it. You smeared his face all over your slimy cunt, needing more pressure to get yourself over the ledge.
Madara was drunk from feeding off your need. He held onto control by the thinnest thread as he continued to let you use his face and tongue for your pleasure and fingered you intermittently. He had to get you stretched if there was any chance you would accommodate him. Having waited this long, he would certainly show you the best of times.
Hooking your legs around his head, you moaned, trying futilely to bring his tongue and fingers deeper. You were kneeling on his hair, unknowingly pinning Madara to the bed, the range of movement for his head severely limited without yanking on his locks. Your voice reached a fever pitch as the dam broke. Gasping, you unseated yourself from his face. He was drenched, even down to his forehead and bangs. The musk of your release saturated the air. It was quiet. Did you drown him?
Madara finally remembered to breath and started panting in dumbstruck wonder, grinning from ear-to-ear. After falling over on the mattress in a mumbling, boneless heap, you were still at his mercy. You had been so pliant in his hands. Pleased with his work, he wiped his mouth with the back of a hand.
Your eyes met briefly as Madara maneuvered your loose limbs into a different position. You were enchanted by the intensity of his expression. Madara was fire. His body was warm as always, his love and grace living things that kept the fire bright. He looked almost feral. Now he was going to claim you.
You tensed as you felt you should ask. âMadara? Do you have a condom?â
He frowned. âI donât.â Shit, he thought. Were you going to ask him to stop?
A decision had to be made. ââŠIâm clean,â you told him.
âAs am I.â
ââŠI trust you.â As you expressed your faith in him again, Madara only felt cozy affection through the haze of his arousal. He bent down to press butterfly kisses along your jawline.
Your eyes bulged as he positioned himself by your entrance and started pushing. He was thick! Even with your flood of lubrication, it felt like he was knocking the breath out of you. Unconsciously, you rippled against Madara in your attempt to accommodate his intrusion.
With your small lips rhythmically clutching at him, Madara was addicted to the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. He pressed onwards slowly, not wanting you to request him to stop or worse, to injure you. Those were unfounded worries. Your quivering ridges fluttered on his cock as he slid home.
You held onto his shoulders, but otherwise lay still in ecstasy. The mind-blowing stretch from Madaraâs entry was ever present, but it was no longer a cause for panic. As he pushed to the hilt and stayed seated within you, the stretch eventually dulled to a pleasant sensation of fullness. You were whole.
Madara needed to slow down. He wanted you to like this, no, to love this. He wanted you to reciprocate his hunger and keep coming back to him for more. He growled, fantasizing about making love to you every night, in every position, against every surface in the house. In each of his properties. Until there came a point when you were loosened up and could take him easily. Staring at your dazed expression, he thought of marriage, your belly swollen with his child, and building a life together. His euphoric mind ran through scenarios as he stayed motionless to allow you to get accustomed to his body in yours. His reveries were interrupted when you spoke up.
âIâm okay. You can move now Madara. But please, go slowly!â You whispered.
What a delicious, torturous texture from your walls. Control was slipping. Madara wanted to be gentle⊠his eyes fell shut.
He had to fuck you now.
Madara withdrew his hips, studying your expression attentively as he snapped back in. You bounced and gripped him tighter, earning a quiet grunt from Madara. He repeated his motions.
Madara obeyed your request: the pace of his thrusts slow, but each plunge was hard. You mewled, fingers slipping between your thighs to rub at Madaraâs jewels. You wanted this, wanted him. You wriggled, hips moving on their own to assist with your penetration. You met him thrust for thrust with fervor, gazing back wantonly as you pulled his hips into your core.
He moved his arms from the sides of your head, which prevented him from crushing you. Primal need approaching the top of a crescendo, he pushed your knees to the mattress to fold you in half and got on his haunches, each drive now more frenetic and impossibly deep. It was an exquisite angle, hitting a gratifying spot that sent electricity coursing through your body.
Madara continued to squat into you, sinking in so his balls slapped your arse lewdly with every drive. Your soaking pussy slurped at his cock battering her, sucking at him instinctively to milk him of his essence. You couldnât move or do anything at all except take it. The thought of your naughty position made you delirious. You were stuffed, each wet slap driving you higher towards nirvana.
You looked up at him submissively and stroked his cheeks that were baptized in your juices as he rutted like an animal. âI love you Madara.â
Your soft words seemed to break his concentration. He stared passionately, the sight of you impaled on his shaft clouding his thoughts with arousal and desire.
As your climax crested, another decision to make was at the tip of your tongue. ââŠI wonât get pregnant.â
ââŠâ He grunted, the purpose of this brief discussion already dawning on his frenzied mind.
ââŠIf you want, you may finish inside meâŠâ You whispered while staring at the man you loved.
Your words made Madaraâs brain do cartwheels. He missed a beat and almost came right there. It was an affliction of the wealthy, but the warnings about women who tried to baby trap other rich men momentarily crossed Madaraâs mind. It was terribly inappropriate timing. He also knew you werenât that sort of women and felt guilty even involuntarily associating such a situation with you.
But Madara would love to have children with you and certainly would not mind if you baby-trapped him. He looked upon you lovingly, glad to finally be together.
He picked up the pace, pushing deep and fast, his focused expression in stark contrast to your blissful, fucked out countenance. He rubbed your nub frantically. Moaning softly, you finished a second time, the strength of your release washing over you in waves.
The spastic jerking of your walls pulsed on him. Uncharacteristically, Madara could not hold on for much longer. It must have been the potency of his love for you that had him undone.
With a soundless roar, Madara came to the thought of how deeply he felt for you and the fantasy of fertilizing your eggs. His cock twitched, sending vibrations through your pouch as his seed flooded you. With nowhere to go but out, his batter escaped, seeping down to coat your crack in your combined fluids.
He fixed you with his piercing gaze. âI love you more,â he confessed.
Madara was like the burning sun that lit up the skies and illuminated the world. But for you, he was more akin to a warming fire than a searing bonfire. You did have another home.
Home was wherever Madara was.
Instead of cutting your story together short, you couldnât wait to turn that page to continue onto the next chapter of your life with him.
---------------
Dance music sounded deafeningly as lights blared in the salsa bar. You were on another date with Madara, but this one was special. Izuna and Jasna joined you and Madara in this group date. When you mentioned you had never been to a salsa bar and Jasna also expressed her interest, Madara suggested she come along. Izuna invited himself. He was a natural, a social setting being Izunaâs innate habitat and Jasna was already at ease conversing with him. You both cackled and mocked Izuna for something he said before sashaying to the dance floor.
Izuna and Madara shared a look as they watched you and your friend dance with abandon, guffawing like hyenas while singing along to the song. The curve of your eyebrows furrowed at a comment Jasna made, then your cheeks pulled up and dimpled as you laughed at your own joke.
*âWhen marimba rhythms start to play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me moreâ
âLike a flower bending in the breeze Bend with me, sway with ease When we dance, you have a way with me Stay with me, sway with meâ
Your rhythm was correct, even if your steps were wrong for the kinds of dance this song demanded. You and Jasna made up for it with childish enthusiasm. You twirled each other and Jasna dipped you down to the beat. You were so silly, so dazzling. Madara laughed in earnest with Izuna, your light blinding in the darkness of the room.
âOther dancers may be on the floor Dear, but my eyes will see only you Only you have that magic technique When we sway, I go weakâ
âI can hear the sounds of violins Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me nowâ
There was no one else he wanted to spend his life with. He would do anything it took to keep you happy. Madara sauntered up to you, the crowd parting before him. Your eyes met. The power behind his stare was like he had you hypnotized with his gaze, but that was of course impossible. Your heart filled with warmth at the sight of him. Others may not see him for who he truly was, but for you, loving Madara was as natural as breathing.
His next words would forever etch themselves into your soul.
"Dance with me."
~End~
---------------
Notes:
I am incredibly proud of myself for finishing this story! First fanfic Iâve written in well over a decade! I hope you found the ending believable and satisfactory. The premise of this story was simple from the beginning. One theme I wanted to highlight in this story was good relationships where the partners do not communicate their love the same way and the difficulties that can arise. When you were with Madara, whether that was cooking for him and lavishing him with attention, or spending quality time together, that was when he felt your affection most. Whereas for her, those things were important, but she was indeed feeling inferior with this man who was larger than life. She also needed the words to confirm Madaraâs feelings at a time when she was ready for the conversation. As we know, Madara is more a man of action than words, until he is pushed to speak his deepest thoughts.
While there are many unhealthy relationships with glaring red flags that should be promptly cut off and discarded, I sincerely believe there are many people too willing to hastily throw away what they have before even attempting to fix whatâs there. Getting into a relationship isnât the destination, but only the beginning. Maintaining the relationship is the difficult journey requiring hard work from both sides and an ongoing process. âJourney before Destination,â my friends.
Yes Madara can be so petty (and a STUBBORN hypocrite) until his heart told him he couldnât stay away any longer. His cold shoulder backfired hard on him đ.
Writing Madara in his different moods (the spectrum ranging from romantic, to awkward, silly, angry, frustrated, regretful, horny, and completely, utterly elated and in love) was challenging and I hope I did him justice. The goal was to have him still behave like Madara even when he was feeling fluffier.
I hope you enjoyed the journey between Madara and his nurse over the course of these past weeks! What a great month I had bringing them to life! đ
*The lyrics at the end of the fic is of course from the legendary song âSway.â The version in my mind is sung by Michael Buble.
Omg
âI love my babe đ€€đ„â âš Uchiha Madara đđ«
I love how the fandom as a whole has agreed that Alucard isnât compensating, itâs to scale
T/W: 18+, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, he is a horny creep, yandere, stalker, trespassing, no smut, noncon touch, fear play, sexual harassment, rape mentioned (but no rape).
Words: 2174 On AO3
The vampire plopped onto the couch where you were seated moments ago and stared at you expectantly. This was too uncomfortable. Not only did he follow you home at night, now he also took to trespassing into your home, which was once your only safe haven from him. You had plans to wash some fruits for your novel-reading time to finish up the day since you didnât have work tonight. What now? Was he only going to stare? Not knowing what to do, you remained near the door with your back to a wall and stared back in dismay.
At least he wasnât covered in blood this time. It took an absurd amount of effort and research into various at-home methods to remove the majority of the blood he left on your couch the last time he squeezed in. If you looked very closely, the faint residuals of the blood stains were still visible.
âWhy didnât you run last week?â The vampire began with a smirk. The depraved beast must have been looking forward to the chase again, to making you gasp for breath and cry. Standing up straighter, you pledged not to give him that satisfaction anymore.
âIâm tired of running.â
âWere you not frightened?â He inquired with a raised brow, folding gloved hands over his lap.
âYouâre the one constantly sniffing the air. You know Iâm aghast by your presence. Iâd rather you leave, but what can I do?â Oh, you just wanted to read your book and escape all of this.
It was like you told him a funny joke and he chuckled smugly as he placed his hat to the side along with his sunglasses. Golden-orange pools swirled as his eyes met yours. They were a different colour? "I only wish to observe you. I will not interfere with your night."Â
That was blatantly a lie. He was already doing plenty to mess with your night. Your lips formed a taut line, which your unwanted guestâs smiling eyes went to immediately. You snapped.
"Don't you have better things to do than to stalk some nameless woman? Someone to shoot?" You eyed the two gleaming weapons that were poorly concealed in distress and shivered. Why does a vampire need guns? "Some poor soul to bite?"Â
For some reason, this monster insisted on coming to terrorize you, whether that was by stalking you through the night or invading your home. And for some reason, he didnât kill or bite you despite his twisted nature and the seasons passing. He spent quite a lot of time on you. Why me?
You didnât expect him to reply, but he did maintain the face-splitting grin. All was silent except for the air conditioner coming on. Keeping one eye on him, you shuffled past his seated form to retrieve your reading material and snack. You settled on the other couch because your favourite spot was occupied by the intruder.
Pulling up a plush blanket, you threw some grapes into your mouth and flipped to where you left off to start reading.Â
--------------------
The minutes turned to hours.
True to his word, all he did was watch you, but he was a HUGE bother. It was spooky to have inhuman eyes track your every move as you took bathroom breaks and refilled your beverage. You couldnât even focus on the story despite reading the same lines repeatedly.Â
There were dark bags under your eyes from the lack of rest and you sagged in the cushy seat, but you didnât want to lose your precious night off because of this unbidden guest. Stifling a yawn, you got up to prepare tea for yourself, getting out your favourite tea set and loose leaves to steep.
It was an Oriental black tea, his sensitive nose could differentiate. So you wanted something strong tonight, something thatâll keep you up? The vampire was comfortable on the couch, even if it was small for him. Your body heat seeped into him from the cushions and he was surrounded by your scent. He leaned back to stare at you through hooded eyes.
He had watched you flip the pages, pleased with the knowledge of your thoughts jumbling as you fruitlessly tried to ignore him and absorb the plot. He heard your drizzling stream when you relieved yourself in the bathroom. He observed how you licked your lips after taking sips from your drink, the way your gaze repeatedly flickered up in his direction to ensure no misbehaviour on his part. He scented the air and basked in your discomfort, relishing in how your heart thumped adorably quick. He wanted to touch you.
He appeared behind you in the kitchen and you jumped, nearly dropping the delicate glass and scalding yourself with burning liquid if he didnât catch your hand in time. âCareful, little one,â he murmured. His light touch tightened after he helped you set down the fragile teapot. âWere you not going to offer your guest a drink?â You froze in shock, nails digging into the pads of your palms.
He pressed close and rumbled deeply, nuzzling the back of your head. The air conditioner fizzed off as he traced small circles on the back of your hand. The vague sound of laughter and cheers of your neighbourâs visitors carried into your unit as another door slammed shut from down the hall.
"I long for the company of a woman. It has been long since I indulged in the pleasures of human flesh." He sighed and guided your hips around so you faced him. He towered over you, the mesmerizing pits of orange and yellow continuing to spin as you locked eyes. So beautiful. Like you could fall into them forever.
"It's no wonder you have to force your company on one," you hissed at him in displeasure, though you felt no bravado. You were paralyzed with fear at the realizationïŒthis was it, why he plagued you all these months. The beast was going to rape you. You had to fight, you had to fight.
It had been too long since he last fed from the warm veins of a human, or plunged into oneâs heated depths. He ached with need, caging you against the countertop with lanky arms, and you arched your back in a futile attempt to pull away to put distance between your faces. He was smiling again when he placed a silky gloved hand behind your head to pull you closer. You took quick, shallow breaths, your heart now hammering against your ribs, the hairs on your skin standing on end as his face came inches from yours. He blinked slowly, his sultry gaze running up and down to study your features.Â
âŠThe warm whites of the kitchen lights caught his sharp visage, casting shadows over the ridge of his cheekbones and hollows of his eyes. His jaw was strong and well-defined. His lashes were so long, his look too suggestive. To be honest, the creature was strikingly handsome when his face wasnât twisted into that sadistic grin.
"Oh?" He read your mind and snickered. "You think I'm handsome?" He looked much too pleased, as if he needed any confirmation. Any sighted person can attest to this beingâs unholy beauty.
Donât look at him! Recalling your past experiences of him charming you into immobility during his hunts, you clenched your eyes and began to hyperventilate. He wasnât hypnotizing you this time, but your body was shutting down, unable to muster up the resolve to try to fight or flee. You only stood rooted to your spot in a dreamlike state, distantly experiencing what was occurring as if it was happening to someone else. The vampire could just force himself on you and there was nothing you could do to protect yourself.
The nightwalker frowned, knowing that you were assuming the worst from him, but he couldnât help but spoil himself with a taste. How was it possible that anyone would smell this mouthwatering?
He stuck his face into your neck and inhaled, then licked at your throat whilst running his palms down your sides, all the way past your thighs to wrap around the backs of your knees. He purred. Your breath caught, so filled with fear you didn't dare breathe or look up at him.Â
You tolerated his touch as he stroked down your legs and back up to caress your abdomen through your clothes. You tolerated the obscene wet muscle dancing across your throat, the husky sounds of him breathing you in.
You were just plain scared. The vampire didnât catch the heady fragrance of arousal at all.
Tears trickled down your face, which the vampire eagerly lapped up. You braved peeking out at the floor, although your abuser took up most of your field of vision. "Are you going to bite me now?"Â
He paused to deliberate the question. "Not unless you'd like me to. Tell me, do you fancy vampires, Dear?" His voice was sensual, rolling over you in a wave and causing you to tremble, if only it werenât for the blasphemy of the question.
What?
The monster continued, easily disregarding the impropriety of his inquiry. "I enjoy when you scream. You have the most captivating voice. I can make you scream a different tune if you are willing," he pronounced in a coy manner. Your eyes finally lifted back to him in shock.
âI will not do something as distasteful as forcing you.â He was shameless with his outrageous flirtation (harassment). The resonant bass of his voice reverberated in your chest. âAllow me to show you a good time. I shall bring you to nirvana.â
You gawked at your oppressor in abasement with huge eyes. You stuttered, not knowing how to respond at first to the proposition. With your frightful trance broken at last, your hands darted out to shove at his chest, though it did nothing to displace him. âAbsolutely not. Never,â you vowed.
Your neighbours laughed merrily again and he finally withdrew. âShame, though I suspect you will offer yourself to me in the future.â --------------------
It took awhile to settle, but after taking a seat on shaky legs, you finally caught your breath. You couldnât even look at the vampire after his foul attempted seduction.
You had been secretly investigating the rental of another apartment. Perhaps you could stay at your friendsâ or parentsâ houses while you searched for yet another home. But given how quickly he found you this time, you didnât want to bring your loved ones trouble with this abomination.Â
This situation was too dangerous. Playing along to this nighttime visitorâs games simply wasnât a sustainable arrangement in the long-term. What else could you do to get rid of him?
Your frantic mind wondered how quickly you could seal a deal with a new landlord and arrange to have your modest belongings moved, all without his knowledge. You finally had enough savings scraped together and spent it all on the last move. How long would it take to earn enough again to move even further away? Maybe a small town on the other end of England will work this time, or perhaps you needed to flee to another country? No matter, you can borrow the funds needed to move âas long as it would free you from your stalker, it would be worth it.Â
"Don't bother, little one. I can find your new home again easily if you move. There will be no point. Save your energy for more meaningful endeavors." He regarded you with his cheek squished against a fist, an almost bored look on his face.
He can read my mind. And any of your plans. You almost cried, but you didnât want to let him see your misery, lest he enjoy it. Your eyes stung from the unshed tears. Pulling several Kleenexes from their box, you scrubbed your nose before blowing it loudly. You briefly considered going to the police for protection, but who would believe you? They would sooner send you to a psychiatric facility.Â
He tittered, "Humans." The monster said your name unexpectedly and your attention snapped to him in surprise. Cursed ruby eyes saw through you, yet you couldnât read his expression. "I will not harm you. This I promise."Â
Was that really true? He could do anything to you, and youâd be defenceless against him if he chose to violate your space again, like he did just now and the entire time this past year. But then again, you were still alive, albeit scared out of your mind. Looking down at yourself, you only felt vulnerable and apprehensive. You recoiled when he reached out for you again, your knees buckling, and you found yourself held up only by the vampireâs strength..
Despite his savage expression, his touch was soft, the back of his fingers barely brushing your cheeks. You werenât able to determine whether he was sincere or merely toying with you yet again, so you eyed him with mistrust.
"I am Alucard," he purred once more, sunset eyes flashing with fervour.
~To be Continued~
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Notes: Unless Integra commanded Alucard to fuck someone, IMO he wouldnât force himself on an unwilling partner. Alucard is a lover, not a rapist, and after centuries of existing (and fucking randoms), heâs had plenty of orgasms of his own and is much more dedicated to giving his partners a mind-blowing experience, especially when his heightened senses (SMELL) let him enjoy their orgasms too.
No, he wasnât going to bite us, but he 1000% would have fucked us silly if we gave him permission, without giving us the chance to think about taking it back.
The vulnerability and helplessness that comes with the territory of potential rape by an unknown male is all encompassing, taking over all other thought processes. I hope the fear the Reader felt was well-conveyed. I think feeling sexually vulnerable is an experience that the vast majority of women (and many other groups of people) probably experience at some point.Â
30sF- Headcanons, scenarios, stories. East Asian, Canada
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