💞 "Let the Rain Witness" 💞
Ikemen Autumn Request - Fic Request #12 Vlad x Reader
Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Request Specifics: Vlad + cozy cuddles + "I could listen to the rain with you forever." + Fluff
The autumn rain fell as though the sky had grown thoughtful—slow, silver threads drifting down the windowpanes, soft enough to make even time itself hesitate. The manor was quiet at this hour, the halls hushed, candles burning low as though unwilling to disturb the peace settling over the world.
You found Vlad in the solarium, exactly where you expected him: seated by the tall windows, a book open but forgotten in his hand, the other hovering just above the petals of a sleeping chrysanthemum, as if he were reluctant to wake it.
He did not turn immediately when you entered. He never needed to.
Somewhere between the first brush of your footsteps and the soft rustle of your skirts, he became aware of you—presence, breath, heartbeat—before you ever crossed the threshold.
“Ah,” he murmured at last, lifting his gaze as you approached, “there you are. The evening has been waiting for you.”
His voice held that serene, unhurried cadence—the sound of someone who had lived centuries and still believed certain moments deserved reverence.
You sank beside him on the long velvet settee, and he opened his arm without being asked, a quiet invitation he already knew you would accept. You slipped into the curve of his body, drawn as if your place had been there for lifetimes. Pure-blooded vampires ran cool to the touch, but Vlad was always warmer than the others—as though something fiercely human burned beneath.
Your cheek found his shoulder. The chrysanthemum brushed the back of your hand.
Outside, leaves that had once been gold and flame clung stubbornly to their branches, blurred by the rain’s steady veil.
“It is a melancholy night,” he said softly. “Autumn often is. Its beauty comes from its parting.”
“And yet,” you said, fingers smoothing absently over the front of his shirt, feeling the stillness beneath, “it feels peaceful.”
Vlad hummed—a low, contemplative sound, a smile folded into his breath. “Oh? Is that the peace of the rain…or the peace of my arms?”
Instead of teasing, you tipped your face up to really look at him, your gaze tracing the quiet lines of his profile, the soft fall of his silver hair, the way the lamplight gilded his lashes. “Both,” you answered gently, like a confession rather than a joke.
His quiet laugh warmed the space between you, tender in its rarity. He shifted, adjusting you with effortless care, letting you curl more fully against him. Your legs tucked beneath you; his arm settled around your shoulders. A thick wool blanket—forgotten at one end of the settee—was drawn over you with a single graceful motion, draping across your bodies like a promise that the world could wait.
The rain deepened, striking the glass with a rhythm that felt almost like memory—soft and persistent, a pulse from another lifetime. Ever since learning the truth of your past with him, the sound carried a faint ache, sweetness laced with something eternal, as if every raindrop were a reminder of all the times you’d almost found each other and almost lost each other again.
Vlad felt it too. You knew he did.
His fingers brushed your cheek, then slid into your hair with a care so deliberate it made your chest tighten.
“Rain has accompanied every turning point of my life,” he murmured. “Storms, gentle showers, even the downpour that hid my tears the day I understood what destiny meant to me.” His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, feather-light. “But this…” His eyes searched your face, as if making sure you were truly there. “This is the first time I have wished for the rain to linger.”
Something in you loosened at that— a slow, spreading warmth that unfurled from your ribs to your fingertips, a tenderness so deep it almost ached. Your lashes dipped, and you nuzzled closer, breathing him in: old paper, faint wine, and the cold-edge scent of night softened by the ghost of roses.
Vlad’s eyes softened, red irises like quiet embers banked for safety.
He could be terrifying when he wished—the tyrant, the visionary, the king of calamity defying fate itself.
But here, with your hands curled in his shirt and the world washed to silver outside, he was only a man who had waited too many lifetimes to hold you like this.
“I could listen to the rain with you forever,” you whispered, fingers curling into the fabric at his chest as if to anchor yourself to him. You pressed a small, reverent kiss to the place just above his heart before resting your cheek there, letting the steady, impossible rhythm beneath your ear answer you.
The words slipped out before you could think to hold them back—too honest, too bare, too threaded with eternity for a night that should have been simple.
Vlad stilled. The change was subtle, but you felt it: the way the moment entered him, settled into his bones, took root like something long-awaited.
Slowly, he cupped your face in both hands and tilted you up to meet his gaze.
“Forever,” he echoed, voice barely more than breath. “My dear one…you speak that word as though it does not frighten you.”
“It doesn’t,” you said, your fingers curling lightly at his collar, drawn to him the way a flame is drawn to air. And it was true—not because eternity wasn’t vast, but because you knew how deeply he longed for it with you.
His expression softened in that quiet, devastating way he had— not breaking, not unraveling, but opening.
As though your words had brushed a chamber inside him untouched for centuries.
Vlad rested his forehead gently against yours. “Then allow me to confess something in return.”
His breath mingled with yours—warm despite his nature, faintly sweet like the strawberries he favored.
“I have been listening to the rain with you since long before you were born,” he murmured. “Every drop I heard alone…I imagined sharing with you.”
Something inside you tightened—tender, aching, luminous.
Outside, the wind stirred the branches, a whisper of dying leaves drifting past the glass like blessings or farewells.
“Stay with me,” he whispered. “Until the rain ends. Until autumn withers. Until…fate grows weary of testing us.”
You curled closer without hesitation, tucking yourself into his body as though you had been carved for that exact place. His arm tightened instantly, instinctively—cool strength and quiet devotion wrapping around you like a shield he had been waiting his whole life to offer.
He adjusted the blanket higher around your shoulders. For a man who disdained the cold, he radiated a steady warmth that felt older than fire.
“Vlad,” you murmured—lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a slow, reverent kiss to his knuckles, as if sealing a vow. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He exhaled a long, releasing breath— the kind a man gives when he realizes the centuries have finally set down their weight.
“Then,” he said softly, “let the rain witness this. Let it remember us.”
Your fingers intertwined with his— his hand elegant and steady, yours warm and mortal and beloved.
Together, you watched as the rain turned the world to silver and gold. Together, you breathed the scent of wet leaves and faint chrysanthemum lingering behind you. Together, you let the autumn night draw its soft curtain around everything but the two of you.
And in Vlad’s arms— the tyrant, the gentle man, the lover who had remembered you across time—
“forever” didn’t feel frightening at all.
It felt like returning to a home you had lived in in another lifetime.
@queengiuliettafirstlady I know originally I said I wouldn't be able to fulfill this since I hadn't read Vlad's route and really didn't know his character well...
Well, I did research and studied just for you! Hopefully I am at least remotely close to getting him right. Or enough that you can escape into the fic and love it despite its flaws. 💖
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