My name is Gem and I'm a writer. Mostly I write fanfiction. Majority of what I write will be 18+ so play by my rules guys or get booted. My choice of characters changes with my mood and so does my plot focus. I'm open for conversation. Come and talk to me. Be my buddy. I don't Bite (unless provoked) and I'm full of topics.
Also...this a safe kink space. Be nice to each other and to me and we can hang out. Welcome to my blog.
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My favorite thing about my favorite media being adapted several times is how many different versions of my favorite character I get to see and enjoy. Like, yes, give me fucking 14 right now!! As a matter of fact, line em all up in a room, my train has arrived!!
Warnings: 18+ SMUT! Semi-public sex, alcohol, vaginal penetration, soft degradation, praise, Alucard talking you through it, some mentions about the reader having some concerns about their anatomy, and confidence regarding sex.
A/N: Hey...I know I've been gone for a while. I have no excuse. But here's some mindless club smut. If yall fw this one I might go ahead and drop part two where they hook up at Alucard's house. This is a 2.4k word short stack and has very little plot lol. And I'm taking smut requests, so feel free to drop them in my inbox if you like! Enjoy! ;)
Synopsis: Modern AU with the reader meeting up with her neighbor, Sypha, her boyfriend Trevor, and their mutual friend, Adrian at a club after a nasty breakup with your shitty ex, hoping for a little rebound hookup.
Song Inspo:
This really wasn’t your scene. Going out to the club during weekdays is usually out of the question, but you just dumped your cheating ex-boyfriend mere hours ago and had left his shit in a pile in front of your apartment building after changing the locks. You’d asked your neighbor and new friend, Sypha, if she was going out. After she told you what club she’d be at, you put on your favorite cocktail dress that your ex hated to see you wearing and some heels that were perfect for dancing through the night.
You were gonna get as drunk as possible and if you were lucky, find somebody else who was willing to appreciate all you had to offer. The truth was your relationship with your ex had been increasingly deteriorating after months of having a tug-a-war about sex in general. If you were being honest, he wasn’t that good at it and whenever you slept together, he never had enough patience to get you to cum more than once (if that). You were exasperated with getting riled up, only to be hoping he’d be done soon so you could slip off to the bathroom with a vibrator and finish yourself off. It was disappointing and you’d found that you had even started shaming yourself.
What if something was wrong with you? What if you just couldn’t really enjoy sex because your body wasn’t built for it? You’d only ever been able to achieve pleasure on your own but it just wasn’t the same. You wanted the rush of having somebody you really liked getting you that high.
When you had originally tried to open up with your ex about the kinds of things you knew would help get you there, he seemed to be pretty against even trying any of it. In his belief, those were things you did to a girl you didn’t actually give a fuck about. According to him, he respected her too much and wanted to marry her. Which made it all the more unsurprising when you saw photos on his computer of him and some bitch you didn’t recognize doing obscene things together in his work office. You were infuriated and left him a short voicemail telling him to come get his shit before it got stolen off the street.
Now you were swaying through the crowd of moving bodies and flashing lights as the DJ blasted a club mix you’d never heard before. The vibe of this place was immaculate, and you mentally shamed yourself for not coming here before. Finally making it to the bar and ordering something sweet, you hear your name over all the noise and look over to see Sypha all but standing on a table and waving you over. You laugh at the sight of her and make your way over to see her with two guys you’ve never met before. The one closest to her is respectfully, nine kinds of fine and drunk as fuck. His dark hair is all over the place, and guessing from the soft smudge of color on his lips that matches Sypha’s lip gloss, they were certainly all over each other before you got here. The other guy is leaning back in the booth with a tall glass of some gold drink between his fingers. His blond hair is abnormally long and falls over his leather jacket. His light irises take in your form with languid precision, his eyebrows twitching slightly as Sypha draws you into a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you came! I was so surprised when you called!” She tugs the dark-haired guy out of the booth so you can both sit down, informing you that he was her boyfriend, Trevor, and their foreign frien,d Adrian. You greet them and slide into the booth next to Adrian and the other two follow suit.
Adrian raises up in his seat and scoots over to give you a bit more room, your knees graze each other under the table and you apologize shyly.
He sits back quietly as Sypha and Trevor start playfully bickering about why the club is better than the last place. Eventually, they decide to go dancing, leaving the two of you alone. The silence stretches a bit before he asks you how you know Sypha and you explain that you’re neighbors. He tells you that they’re old friends from the same hometown. You learn he moved here a few years ago for a job at a local hospital lab and you tell him you moved here for work as well. Eventually, your drink arrives and a few sips has you mellowed all the way out.
“So who are you trying to piss off?”
You frown, turning to face the blond beside you. “Excuse me?”
He gestures to your dress. “That outfit is very eye-catching.”
Your fingers graze the neckline absent-mindedly. “Yeah, my boyf- uhm…ex-boyfriend hated it.”
“I can see why. Your face is pretty enough to turn heads, the dress just makes the stares linger.” He smiles. “I’m glad you dumped him.”
“What makes you think I dumped him? He could’ve dumped me and I could be heartbroken. You’re glad I’m all alone and sad?” He chuckles and you can’t help the smile that creeps up at the corners of your mouth.
He takes a sip of his drink. “Why did you dump him?”
You sigh. “He was an idiot and he never really could give me what I needed.” You decided to leave out the part about him cheating on you. What if Adrian did start to feel bad for you?
“What you needed?”
“Yeah…like…I don’t know.” You shift in your seat. “He just…never had enough patience to really put the work in.”
Adrian nodded and whispered a soft oh. “So he never made you cum, huh?”
You sputter.
Adrian laughs. “I knew it. How embarrassing for him.”
For him?
“How’s it embarrassing for him? I’m the one who couldn’t-” You stop yourself, feeling the liquor loosen your tongue. Adrian leans forward a bit.
“Couldn’t what? Don’t tell me you’re convinced you’ve got some biological incapability?”
You keep silent, and the man grunts softly. The silence stretches.
“It’s not that I can’t cum in general.” The words fall out like blocks. “I just…penetration has never really felt all that great. It’s difficult to feel nice when it feels like you’re being split open on a pike. It’s not like I haven’t tried to like it.”
Adrian looks around as your voice rises before placing a hand over your mouth mid-sentence. He brings his eyes level with yours, and the proximity of his face to yours makes you draw your knees together. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he lets your face go but stays where he is.
“You probably just weren’t worked up enough.”
Agitation rises in your chest. “Worked up enough? So you do think it’s my fault?”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s just..” He looks at you for a minute before sucking his teeth.
“Let me show you.”
He leans forward just a bit, his hand disappearing under the table, and you feel his fingers wrap around your left lower leg loosely and drag along it until he reaches your knee.
He slides his fingers under your knee and parts your legs slightly. To anyone glancing over, it’d look like he was merely fixing his own pant leg. The presence of his hand still resting under your knee and his steady gaze waiting for your permission has your heart racing. The booths are in the back of the club and tucked under the second-level balcony. The lights are pretty low, so people would have to come up pretty close to see who’s in the booth and what they’re doing. It’s not too much of a gamble.
Without a word, you nod.
A smile ghosts over his lips before he lifts your leg and slides his under yours so he has perfect access to your thinly covered core.
You swallow thickly as his left hand grazes your knee, then your inner thigh. His index finger traces small circles there before his hand rests over your entire sex.
Your breath catches. He squeezes you gently, and a strangled noise escapes your throat, prompting a gentle hum of praise from him.
His other hand latches onto the knee closest to him, and he holds it there, making sure he continues to have full access to your cunt. Much too slowly, he drags his middle finger up and down the line of your folds, causing a sharp jerk every time his fingertip grazes your clit. You shut your eyes as he increases the pressure and presses the tip of that same finger against your opening through the fabric of your panties.
“Open your eyes. Keep your eyes on me.”
You drag them back open. The weight of his gaze causes the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach to intensify
Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth when he adjusts in his seat, crossing his legs so your leg is directly over the bulge of his pants. He replaces his left hand with his right and pulls you a bit closer to him.
Sliding your panties to the side, he dips a finger inside you and hisses gently.
“Gods, you’re tight as fuck.” He pushes his finger in just a bit further, causing you to moan sharply, and your hand knots in the fabric of his shirt.
He slides the first digit out, then gently works two fingers into you with a low squelching noise that makes you so happy the music is too loud for a passerby to hear. Once he’s nearly knuckle-deep inside you, lips flush against your temple, he curls them and adds a little extra pressure with his palm to your swollen clit. Your eyes involuntarily roll back into your skull as the shockwaves of pleasure have your hips raising up off the seat of the booth.
You curse through gritted teeth. He chuckles and holds you down.
If you weren’t so out of it due to the feeling of him, you’d be keenly aware of the way his dick twitches at each noise he’s able to coax out of you.
“Are you always this easy to slide into, or is this just for me?”
You moan in response.
“Aww, are you already that out of it? I’ve barely done anything to you yet.” He drags his teeth along the line of your ear and nips at the lobe. “You want me to keep going?”
You nod. He presses open-mouthed kisses along your neck, while gently pumping his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. “Say please.” He teases.
“P-please, please don’t stop.” The desperation in your voice in any other situation would have you cringing, but you don’t give a shit right now. The knot in your stomach has been steadily growing with each of his minstrations and you really need him to press on that spot again.
Adrian drags his lips from the side of your neck to the front, causing your head to lean back, automatically pulling your back into an arch, and giving him the space to delve deeper into you. It’s here that he decides to up the pace, and the wet sound of his fingers pushing into your aching hole inches you closer and closer to your orgasm. He subtly ruts his hips into the back of your thigh in time with the pace of his fingers. Abruptly, he grabs your chin with his left hand, drawing your eyes to his and pinning you in place.
He licks his lips with a look of awe-filled disbelief as he takes in the fucked-out expression on your sweet face. “You want me to fuck you?” He whispers, and you nod.
“Say it. Say it or I’ll stop.”
“I want you to.” You say quickly. “I want you to fuck me, please. Please, please.” He laughs and hikes your leg up a bit more before pumping his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. He lets go of your chin and slides his fingers against the base of your skull, tightening his grip in your hair and pulling just enough for your back to be arched against the seat, and your body on full display for him while his fingers are sliding in and out of you.
The feeling of his long fingers pressing against your walls is making you absolutely dizzy.
“You know you’re crazy for letting me do this to you in such a public place? You’re making so much noise, you’re going to let everybody know what’s happening.” You tighten around his fingers, and he grins.
“Ohh,h you like that idea, huh? You want everybody to know how much of a slut you are for me? I bet your pathetic little ex-boyfriend could never make you feel like I do, huh?”
When you don’t answer, he tugs on your hair a bit more, causing you to cry out. “Answer me.”
You struggle for a moment. “H-he couldn’t. Not l-like you.”
“Good girl. You’re almost there.” He takes in the way your supple hips lift to meet his movements and the way you’re spreading your soft legs wider just to feel more of him. Pupils blown out, he can’t help but think about fucking you properly.
Focused, he waits until he can feel your breath slowing to a halt, signalling your seconds away from cumming, and lets go of your hair, using the same hand to press on your lower abdomen, causing a scream to claw out of your throat that is thankfully covered by a base drop he was hoping he could perfectly align this moment with.
The world around you melts away, and the tight coil builds to a breakable point. Something in your body snaps, and the world shatters as you glue your eyes shut.
The music dulls to a low vibrational hum.
You can’t feel anything underneath you.
You can’t even breathe.
He watches as you fall apart in his hands in the middle of the crowded club. Your body continues to shudder from the force of the orgasm as air flows roughly in and out of your lungs.
After a moment, the sound of his low whispers in your ear lulls you back into full awareness. He adjusts you into your seat beside him and pulls your short dress back into alignment. His hand caresses the top of your thigh, and your death grip on his shirt has completely loosened.
When you finally look at him, he’s sipping his drink much like he had before. He looks over at you and smiles.
I sometimes hate not being an artist because the one thing I can’t get out of my head for the past 2 weeks since Rafayel’s myth trailer and Iwtv season 3 shooting is
Assad Zaman is perfect deranged introvert representation. He’ll be so shy if you compliment him on his performance and then say the most unhinged stuff on main unprompted
fandom wide mandate that everyone has to re-watch the source material in steady intervals to minimize intense fandomization of tropes and characterizations that happens when people go without new source material for too long
(ID:
image 1: Armand and young Daniel curled up together in bed in an apartment in Paris, sunlight coming in through a window
image 2: Armand lighting his cigarette from Daniel’s on Night Island in Miami
image 3: Armand crouching over Daniel’s body after transforming him into a vampire on the floor in Dubai with the destroyed pages of the script scattered
end ID)
