can you imagine how good shows would be if writers thought of women as human beings
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Today's Document
Mike Driver

No title available
DEAR READER
Xuebing Du
dirt enthusiast
NASA
YOU ARE THE REASON
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER

pixel skylines

Love Begins
One Nice Bug Per Day
almost home
Sade Olutola
wallacepolsom

tannertan36
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia

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seen from Brazil

seen from Malaysia

seen from Indonesia
seen from Hungary

seen from Malaysia

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@wsmlove
can you imagine how good shows would be if writers thought of women as human beings
Knight of Roses - G.S.
Synopsis. You, heir to the throne and fated to be married off to a royal you’ve never even met. Gojo Satoru, your personal knight and the one man that will not let this happen. He will not.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, knight! Gojo, childhood-friends-to-Iovers, PINING, arranged marriages, Naoya is awful, Gojo YEARNS, flower language, politics, slight víolence, slight angst, matíng presses, cervíx kíssing, creampíes, cúmplay, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, oraI (fem rec), he goes FÉRAL, cúmming in his pants, manhandIing, spítting, biiig stretches, dúmbifícation, cúmflation, p talking, p sIapping, overstím, proposals, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 12.7k
A/N. What happens when ya let a girl listen to Golden Brown by The StrangIers.
“You are not to speak, you are not to look.” The king intertwines his decadently ringed fingers on his lap, the royal signet glinting pointedly amongst them. “You are not to so much as breathe in the princess’s way from tomorrow onwards.”
And it’s only with his hard-earned years as your knight that Gojo stops himself from shuddering where he knelt, head bowing to hide the clench in his jaw.
Though, surely something must have flashed across his features - because the next few words have a familiar warmth that twisted Gojo’s heart much more than his royal timbre, “Satoru, my boy, you understand that this is your duty? Yes?”
“I understand.” The answer is instant, as is the raise of the other man’s brows.
“And do you understand that this marriage is my daughter’s duty?” Your father barks out a disbelieving laugh into the barren throne room. “We wouldn’t want Prince Naoya getting the wrong idea between the princess and a- a knight.”
The words make his eyes prick wetly, and Gojo can’t help but bend even lower as he whispers. “I…I understand, sir.”
Someone please make a movie adaptation please please please please please please please please
your nerdy fuckbuddy gojo has a tongue piercing?!?
“gojo—“ you said. “pause. stop.” you added, pulling his head up, away from your pussy. normally, you’d never stop him. ever. he pushed his slightly fogged up glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then spoke, his tone quiet and worried. “wh—what’s wrong? did— does it not feel good? a—am i going too fa—“ you shook your head quickly, and then sat up on your forearms.
“no, no, of course not— it’s .. i dunno. something feels.. weird. sort of.. cold.” you spoke, feeling sort of uncertain and deluded. you had never felt this feeling when he ate you out. you grabbed his chin lightly, and then thumbed at his lips. “do you have ice in your mouth or something?” you asked.
“uh—no..? but.. i.. can if you’d like that?” he said, looking up at you with a worried expression on his face. as he spoke, though, you noticed something shining in his mouth. “open your mouth.” you ordered. and he did so. quicker than you’d expected. he stuck his tongue out, and you gasped. “when did you get that?” you said, staring at the metal ball on his tongue.
“um.. a few days ago. i lost a bet with my brother.” he said, scratching his head and looking away, almost like he was embarrassed. “your brother.. the one in the fraternity?” you asked. “that’s the one.” he confirmed. wasn’t too far off from him. you’ve met him before— saturo. the sleazy, disgustingly sexy yet dangerous frat boy. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him.
“hm.” you said quietly. “do you like it?” he whispered, going back down so his nose was level with your cunt. “does it make you feel good?” he said, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh. he gave you a long, slow lick, from your hole to your clit, not breaking eye contact. “when i got it done,” he said quietly, giving your clit a sweet kiss, and snaking his arms around your thighs to hold you down, so you wouldn’t twitch so much. “i couldn’t stop thinking of you. i was so excited to use it on you..” he murmured against you.
he reached up his hand, dragging his middle finger and ring fingers from your clit, down to circle around your hole, and then finally, inserting them in. he leaned up to you, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, then another against your ear as he fingered you. “satoru—“ you moaned, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. you bit your lip, and then he leaned down to capture your lips, wasting no time to use his tongue.
his tongue circled yours, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, and the feeling of his metal on your tongue. “i lost the bet on purpose.” he whispered against your lips. “i overheard you talking about guys with tongue piercings, and..” he said softly, giving your lips a chaste peck, his thumb moving up to work your clit as he fingered you. “i got jealous. jealous that you potentially didn’t have me in mind.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “i wanted nothing more than for you to experience this. nothing more than for you to use me for as long as you want to.” he said, his tone almost whiny as he pleaded.
“please,” he whimpered. “use me. i’m yours.”
© satoskii 2026 ─────────
a/n : HI GUYS SO MUCH SUPPORT ON MY LAST NERDJO DRABBLE IM GEEKED. thank u guys sm im cheesing real hard. thought id feed you guys a bit more!
My humble additions
What even is this game? 💀
and that's how I met your mother
I’m dripping
this game is sending me
Worm talk
Prompt : Late night thoughts, you ask your boyfriends if they'd still love you if you were a worm 🪱
A/N : Just an another little smau that suddenly spawned in my mind, hope you'll like it <3
me temo q esto es canon
he's so silly i feel so maternal towards him
hi. it's me and sukuna
i fuckin love self shipping like hell yeah
They say there is a loser in the Zen'in clan. A man who doesn't even have an ounce of cursed energy. I wondered how pathetic of a man he would be... I wondered what sort of miserable face he would have...
JUJUTSU KAISEN: THE CULLING GAME (2026) — EP. 51: Perfect Preparation, 「葦を啣む」
raw. next question.
NOTHING'S FAIR IN LOVE & WAR
the strongest sorcerer of all time refuses to have a weakness...even if it's you
synopsis: ryomen sukuna is not meant to have feelings for anyone. let alone the best friend sleeping in his bed, the single person in this suffocating estate who isn't scared of him. from starving to being double stuffed, you stayed by his side throughout all of it. so why can't he seem to do the same for you?
pairing: heian era!Sukuna x f!reader, Choso x f!reader
wc: 10.7k
content: mdni!! heavy angst and smut!!!! character death, regression, blood/violence, true form sukuna, he's a real asshole guys lmfaoo, mean and possessive sukuna, fingering, titty sucking, unprotected piv sex, anal sex, double penetration (each hole), creampie, accidental pregnancy, sukuna has ISSUES, reader loves him anyway, emotional hurt, no comfort, sukuna crashing out, sweet choso is also here, garden sex, mentions of marriage, happy ending for reader
a/n: this is a commission by my sweet amazing angel @martianzmars !!! love you cutie pie :3 the sukuna art is by @winterrbluess <3
What was the worth of a flower?
It faded. Wilted. Petals falling off with time if they weren’t trampled on first. They didn’t last. Just another weak, fragile thing that sprouted only to die.
“Why?” He plucked off a delicate petal, nose scrunching in disgust.
You frowned at him, and he passed the detestable thing back to you. Swallowing his scoff and spreading his thighs further apart on his throne, propping his face up with one of his arms. Must you end the day with some boring fight over a petty thing like that? He watched the way your fist tightened around the crooked stem from the corner of one of his bottom eyes.
“It’s medicinal,” you muttered, gesturing to the cut on his arm.
He rolled his eyes, flexing his bicep before letting his own energy wash over him, healing himself without even an ounce of exertion.
He didn’t need some puny, pathetic flower to do it for him.
Didn’t need your help.
What would it take for you to realize that?
You weren’t kids anymore. Not twelve years old, skin and bones, needing you to collect herbs and wildflowers to cure him from some cold or sickness. Both of you had grown up.
And yet, you were still here, still following him, trailing after his path of destruction, holding onto his sleeve. Because you needed him.
That was just the way it was.
“My lord, you still have-”
He shut up his aide with a single wave, grinding his back molars as he waited for the next person to enter the throne room. He resented his title. Resented the room itself.
They were supposed to be a symbol of his strength, things he was given simply because he scared people. The men with money shoving material possessions, lands, titles, women, whatever they thought would satiate him, offering up their servants and daughters alike if it meant their heads would be spared.
Sometimes it did.
But others weren’t always lucky. And his mood was, ah, how did you put it?
Fickle?
His flames shifted with the wind.
And your attitude this afternoon wasn’t helping.
You dismantled the rest of the flower yourself. Moodily perched on the edge of his lap, distracting him while he tried to listen to the whines and pleas from his subjects. They always had something to complain about, even when they got on their knees trembling to ask him for more.
These days, you didn’t even look up when he slaughtered them. Just twirling the stem between your fingers as the blood hit the floor.
Your mouth was moving, like you were speaking, but no words came out. Pouting a little, your brows pulling together as you pried the last petal off and let it hit the ground.
“What are you doing?” He grumbled, and you shrugged your shoulders, not looking back.
“Playing a game,” you responded softly, barely reacting when one of his free hands grabbed your waist through the top layer of your kimono.
He grunted his disapproval, but you didn’t flinch.
The rest of the world was terrified of the four-armed monster rumored to butcher and burn those who dared to cross him. Serve their bodies up on a spit roast.
He said they hadn’t experienced true hunger if they condemned him for a little cannibalism.
You didn’t fear him though. Saw past the scars and disfiguration that made even those beneath him turn and whisper.
so... I'm crying
mdni. dating older!satoru after he’d retired.
satoru gojo thought retirement would be simple.
after all the fights, the losses, the endless cursed energy—he just wanted quiet. a big house on the outskirts of tokyo, no missions, no students to worry about. he was in his forties now, white hair starting to show darker grey strands. wrinkles crinkled around his blue eyes when he smiled, which wasn’t as often these days.
he spent mornings drinking coffee, afternoons reading books he never had time for before. peaceful. boring, maybe, but safe.
then you showed up. it was an accident, really. he was at a small cafe in the city, grabbing takeout, when you bumped into him. your coffee spilled all over his shirt. you apologized a hundred times, young thing in your early twenties. he laughed it off, said it was no big deal, but those eyes of yours stuck with him. bright, full of life he hadn’t felt in years. he offered to buy you another drink, and somehow, that turned into dinner. then more dinners. then nights at his place.
now, you keep him up all night. not in a bad way. god, no. he loves it. loves the way you straddle him in his bed, sheets tangled around your legs, your young body moving like it’s made for this. he’s propped up on pillows, hands on your hips, watching you ride him slow at first. you’re so wet, he can hear it, the slick sounds as you take him deep.
“fuck, baby,” he groans, voice rough. his cock throbs inside you, thick and veined, filling you up just right. “just like that.” his thumbs dig into the soft skin just above your ass, guiding you faster.
you lean forward, hands on his chest. there’s grey hair there too, scattered across his pecs. wrinkles crease deeper around his eyes as he groans, head tipping back for a second before snapping forward again—he can’t stop watching.
girl wtf 😭 need more please please please please please please please
teasing your husband in your sundress (18+)
he watches you intently from his spot across from you at the patio table as you bounce one of your friend's babies on your lap. the hand holding his red solo cup squeezes around the plastic in an attempt to lower the urge to snatch you up. you keep giving him that innocent smile in your form fitting dress, looking like the picture of domesticity and a wet dream of his come to life.
he shifts in his chair, cup warping beneath his grip, jaw tight as he drags his gaze slowly down the line of your thighs, then back up to your tits, which keep bouncing just a little with the soft motion of your body while you entertain the child. "you seem to know what you're doing." he grunts.
you have that one look on your face you always get when you're teasing him. you hand off the baby to one of your friends so the poor thing isn't involved in the intense stare-off you and him have going on, and you grin, leaning forward and tipping your head to the side, fluttering your lashes at him. "yeah, it feels natural, hm? bet i'll be real good at it when you put a baby in me."
he shifts in his seat and spreads his knees further like it'll calm the way his cock is hard and pushing against the zipper of his jeans. you haven’t touched him once and his cock is already uncomfortably swollen just from watching you be sweet to everyone else in. "don't talk like that." he says sternly, unable to handle your dirty talk while in public.
"your face is warm, are you alright?" you smile innocently, your big eyes sparkling sweetly. you tug your hair up off your neck with a soft, whining sigh and his breathing picks up sharply. you did that on purpose. it's not far off from the sounds you make when he's balls deep in you, which doesn't help his situation. " 'm fine, baby. 's just hot outside."
he wonders if he made the right choice to come. he was debating dragging you back to bed and away from the car the second you chose that sundress, form fitting and showing a questionable amount of cleavage for a barbeque in your backyard where you'd intended for your man to meet some of your friends and their husbands; a group date, if you will. now, you've stood up and started moving around the barbeque, and he feels like he's being tormented on purpose. the way you stretch when you reach for the cooler, arms overhead, back arching, your dress straining against your ass.
he hasn't spoken in a while now, to any of your friends. he just nods or shakes his head or clears his throat any time he's addressed, because he cannot think right now. you keep drifting past him like you're checking on something, brushing your fingers along his shoulder, placing a very calculated kiss right to his sweet spot; the area right under his ear.
you keep pretending not to notice how wrecked he looks as his jaw keeps flexing, throat working every time he swallows, like he's physically trying to restrain himself. he watches your ass bounce and hips sway when you walk. "oh fuck me," he mutters low to no one in particular. he catches your arm the next time you walk past him, dragging you close to him so he can lean forward and whisper in your ear. "you like being a fuckin' menace, huh?"
and you do, that's what makes this so fun for you. you keep doing that little pout, bottom lip soft and pushed out, head tilted like you're confused when you're really not. he grunts, hand coming up to wrap gently but very firmly around the base of your throat, thumb just under your jaw as he tilts your head up, and his voice lowers. "you keep lookin' at me like that. walkin' around like that. can't you sit still?"
you blink up at him with a little grin. "i thought you said it was hot outside, baby. 'm just trying to keep cool." he scowls at your bullshitting and squeezes your neck.
"yeah? y'wanna see how cool i can be when i stretch out your sloppy lil' pussy?" your breath catches in shock at his tone, but your cunt gives a dull throb nevertheless. he continues, clearly fed up with your antics, leaning in so his mouth brushes against your cheek.
instead of backing down, you just reach down and take his hand off your throat, kiss the inside of his wrist before glancing around, voice sweet and breathless. "stop being so needy, babe. i'm sure you can behave yourself for a few more hours." you say, your voice soft and patronizing.
he's furious. his eyes rake over you, slowly, hand moving to the small of your back, holding you closer to him now. "i'm sick of you being such a little brat, y'hear me? do you wanna be punished?"
you scoff, and pull back just enough to give him a smug grin. "mm, you're so dramatic," you murmur like it's cute and he isn't five seconds from fucking you on the grass like a wild animal. "chill out. 'm gonna go get a popsicle. i'll grab one too so your mouth has something to do other than talking."
he stares after you, stunned while you walk away with your hips swaying. his cock is throbbing, nearly painful in his jeans now, the cotton of his boxers chafing into skin in the worst way possible. he would get up after you, but his cock is so fucking swollen that he cannot get up without causing a scene, and you know it.
he watches as you pull open the cooler lid, lean all the way over to dig through it, your dress riding up just enough to send another wave of fury through his bloodstream, before you pull out a popsicle and rip it open with your teeth, lips closing around it. your man exhales through his nose, pushing his hand over his lap in an attempt to hide his problem, watching you lick and suck and slobber onto that popsicle like it's his cock. not helping. "she can't be fuckin' serious..." he mumbles, his pulse spiking. his gaze focuses on you, lashes flickering as he tries to prevent the stupid glassy eyed expression he gets whenever he looks at you.
damn him for having such a big crush on his girlfriend.
you stroll back to him, still licking at your popsicle, and lower yourself onto his lap, right onto his cock. and with how thin your dress is, he can easily feel your plump pussy lips and folds against his jeans. you're... not even wearing panties.
you know there’s nowhere else for you to sit, and he knows you timed it like that on purpose. you wriggle like you're just getting comfortable onto his cock, and the noise he makes in response is feral. his hands fly to your waist on instinct, and his whole body jerks under you, hips twitching up against your bare cunt even though he's doing everything he can to hold still. he squeezes you, hard. "you. you've got five seconds to get off me."
you giggle and roll your hips instead so your pussy grinds down on his bulge, and he groans, squeezing you tighter and putting his face in your neck. he needs you to stay still before he creams himself, but you're a fucking brat with no self restraint. "don't think i will," you hum petulantly, reaching up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "you're so comfy."
his hand comes under your shirt to squeeze at your flesh, he's so swollen and pent up that he's started leaking steadily now, his body begging for release. you won't sit still either, continuously grinding on him as he moans into you skin, biting into your throat to muffle his noises. "mmngh... 'm gonna fucking ruin you, you goddamn brat," you smile in response, all saccharine and smug. "in front of my friends, baby? don't think so."
he lifts his head slowly. "say one more fuckin' thing. go ahead. see what happens."
"you're hard as a rock, baby." is the last teasing remark you make before he gets up, dead silent, and yanks you up with him, his hand sliding around your waist. you stumble a bit in your sandals, but he catches you with no effort, one strong arm across your back to hold you close enough to him that his soiled pants and erection aren't visible. his free hand squeezes your upper arm firm enough for you to know he's done with your shit.
-
"baby, fuck! slow d-down, mmmh, oh my god,"
he's got you down on a bed in one of the rooms upstairs, the music coming from the speakers down at the barbeque the two of you abandoned now faded and replaced by the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. you're laying down with him plowing into you from behind so roughly your vision is swimming, and one of his huge hands is splayed on the back of your neck to keep you down while the other squeezes your hips. he's grunting and panting harshly behind you, eyes blazing with anger.
"slow down?" he spits, voice rough as he bends down to talk against your ear. his chest is heaving, sweat sticking to his chest as he ruts into you from behind uncoordinatedly, thrusts hard and sloppy and inconsistent like he's lost the ability to pace himself. "you want slow now? after all that bullshit downstairs? after grinding on my fuckin' cock in front of everyone like a needy little slut?"
his hips snap forward hard and you cry out as he starts fucking his cock deep inside you, your walls stretched out around his cock close to unbearably. his hand at your neck doesn't let up either, making it impossible to lift your head and do anything but take his cock in your soaked, puffy little pussy. he keeps you pinned down like you're a wild, untamable animal. "told you not to fuckin' play with me." his voice is low now, rasping through clenched teeth, "i told you to sit your pretty little ass still, but no. and now look where you are, hm? getting fucked like a whore."
he pounds into you, his bulbous head swollen and pressing down heavily at your sweet spot, too much, too long. you're seeing stars each time he bottoms out and kisses the gooey spot in you so rough that you scream, and tighten up so much that it feels like you're milking his cock. you try to squirm and lift yourself up a little to get away from the overwhelming amount of pleasure just for a second, but he slams in harder, shoves you back down, and you whine loudly, legs quivering weakly.
"couldn't help yourself, huh?" he growls, dragging his hand down your spine to slap your ass, hard, making you jolt and clench. "wanted to make me mad. wanted to see what i'd do if you were a little slut in front of everyone." your mouth hangs open as you pant and drool, fingers clawing at the sheets for something to hold. "baby fuuuuuck, please! i didn't-"
"don't fucking lie to me." he says quietly, his thrusts now quicker and rougher, his heavily balls slapping against your ass while he grinds deep inside you. you sob, twisting under him. "yes, yes, baby, i swear fuck, i'm mngh, sorry, 'm sorry,"
his cock twitches and throbs inside you with enjoyment at your pitiful sounds, and he thrusts into you from behind hard enough to watch your ass bounce and jiggle. you try to fuck yourself back on his cock to try and guide the pace or maybe encourage him to let you do the work but he squeezes the back of your neck in warning and pushes down on your back so you can't move anymore. you mewl pitifully, unable to gain any control. his length, thick and veined with a curve that hooks inside you at the perfect angle to kiss your cervix and your g-spot in every thrust, scrapes at your walls mercilessly. he's pounding you as a punishment.
"sh-shit... yeah?" he breathes, voice shaking slightly. "you're sorry now? while you're soaking my cock like this? fuckin' pathetic, baby, you're not sorry at all." he slams forward again, hard enough to make your whole body jolt, and you fist at the blankets for dear life, getting fucked into oblivion while your pussy clenches around him weakly. he hisses through his teeth, cock grinding down into the slick mess between your thighs deeply.
his hips buck sharply, cutting himself off with a guttural moan as he fucks into you so rough and uncoordinated that you feel like he wants his cock molded into the shape of your cunt. "bet you were wet the second we got here," he growls, leaning down to lick at your shoulders and bite your throat, laying on you from behind so you're now in prone bone, the new position making you both moan loud as his cock shoves into you impossibly deeper. one hand is sliding fingers into your mouth so you slobber around his fingers, while the other holds your wrist down. "oh fuck, baby... this pussy's so fuckin' good... fuck..."
you're sobbing now, the overwhelming fullness, the tight stretch, the pounding driving your brain to mush. "please," you whimper, barely able to speak around your cries. "i-i can't... too much, it's too..."
"shhh" he snarls, tugging your hair back a little so you're forced to arch for him, your hole spread for him. his cock shoves so deep inside you, and your walls pulse and flutter around him as the buildup of your orgasm coils up in your tummy. "you wanted this," he murmurs. "y' fuckin' asked for it. grinding on me, teasing me, sittin' on my lap with that messy little cunt, this is what you get."
he rams into you harder, strokes mean, and your slick makes filthy squelching noises with each sloppy, animalistic thrust. his cock drags against every soft, sensitive spot inside you like his cock knows instinctively exactly where to hit to make your toes curl. he pushes into you harder, putting just enough of his weight on you to be shy of smothering. "baby, i c-can't, 'm gonna cum," you sob, your voice wrecked and desperate, your voice is slurred and muffled around his fingers pressing down onto your toungue.
"yeah?" he pants into your skin, slotting hot, open mouthed kisses to your shoulders and throat. "you gonna cream on my cock like a good little girl? gonna soak me while everyone outside's thinkin' you're sweet and innocent? fine, nasty lil' thing. cum on my cock." he then turns your head, taking his fingers out of your mouth so he can kiss you deeply, his tongue immediately connecting with yours to kiss you filthily and messily, capturing your moans with his mouth.
you come apart by screaming into his mouth, your body clenching and trembling as the orgasm rips through you, your cunt squeezing him in pulses so tight he chokes on a loud groan. his hips jerk up ino you as he fucks you through your orgasm, thrusts sloppy and urgent. he pulls back from your mouth a little, licking your swollen lips and tugging your hair to make eye contact. "look at me. 'm gonna fuckin' breed you, baby. gonna stuff this messy lil' pussy full and make it mine."
you're still cumming, overstimulated and sobbing into the sheets when he slams in one last time with a ragged growl and spills inside you, his cream hot and coming out in languid, thick splurts. you feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as he empties himself into you, his whole body shuddering above you while he groans loud and unashamed.
he doesn't pull out right away, just stays buried deep, breathing ragged against your skin with his hands coming around to squeeze your breasts under you to ground himself. he exhales shakily and presses chaste little kisses to your shoulder, cock still rock hard inside you. he absently ruts into you, laving his tongue over your sweat slicked skin while you twitch under him weakly. some of his cum leaks out of you, but his fat cock keeps most of it stuffed inside. he pinches your swollen nipples and moans against your neck. "fuck, this perfect fuckin' pussy, baby. wanna go for one more?"
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No quisiera tener hijos pero qué divertida la actividad de hacerlos 😮💨
he puts you in your place when you act up (18+)
You find yourself on your boyfriend's lap, positioned with your back pressed against his muscular chest. he's bouncing you on his thick, throbbing cock with deep, rough thrusts, making you feel every inch of him each time he slides his length against your gummy walls. "F-fuck, ba-babe..." you slur, voice a pathetic mewl.
You're stuck in his lap, legs spread wide and shaking. your dress is bunched up and your panties are down by your ankles as he keeps both hands locked on your hips while he fucks you on his cock like you're nothing but something to use.
At this point, you're hardly coherent. In fact, you're barely able to breathe through the choked little gasps that leave your mouth every time he lifts your hips and slams you back down again, burying his cock in you all the way to your womb and stretching you around him.
His car shakes just enough to be suspicious as you get ravaged in the parking lot of the bar he took you to to meet some of his childhood friends. The plan had been to get you to meet some of the guys he'd grown up with, and hopefully get you all on good terms, but you couldn't seem to behave for one night.
A couple drinks enough to get you tipsy paired with your loud nature had been enough to get you to go too far.
"He's -hic- totally my bitch, you guys," you'd said with a grin that took up your whole face, waving your hand dramatically. "He acts tough, y'know, all big and quiet and scary or whatever, but I swear to god," you leaned in across the table like you were telling a secret, all conspiratorial and smug, "this man says yes ma'am with a mouth full of my p-"
"That’s enough," he’d said then, right next to your ear, and you should've stopped, but you didn't.
The second everyone laughed, clearly loving how you were revealing such intimate details about their secretive friend, you only immersed yourself further into the moment. you'd let out this airy little laugh and nudged his thigh under the table, like you were just being cute.
"You guys don’t even know," you'd giggled, your voice a little too loud. "He’s literally obsessed with me. Like, whipped. If I even hint that I want something? He’s already got it in the cart. If I want it in bed? He’s already on his knees. Like, he’ll beg for it, beg, and he’s so good at it too, you guys, it’s actually adorable,"
He didn't even say anything as he excused the two of you from his friends, hauled you out of the booth, and dragged you out towards the car for a "talk", and now here you are.
Your boyfriend remains surprisingly focused, but you can tell he's furious. His huge hands are gripping your hips so rough that his thick fingers leave indents on your flesh. Soft, breaTHy groans leave him as he stares at your fucked out expression, watching the way you shudder on him and struggle to take him in.
"You think you're so cute and funny, hm?" he grunts, his voice hoarse and deeper than you’ve ever heard it. "You think I'm your bitch?"
He punctuates the question with a sharp thrust that makes your whole body jolt, your eyes fluttering shut as a broken cry escapes your lips. His mushroom tip hits right at the deepest part inside you that makes you see stars. He's so deep inside that you're sure if you looked down right now, you'd see him bulging out from your tummy
"Saying all that shit in front of my goddamn friends?" His hands push your body forward so that he's arching you harder to get deeper inside you. You can feel his huge, fat cock rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust now. "Y'sat there and lied to their fuckin' faces like I don't handle you whenever I want."
You try to respond, but you can't whimpering and moaning stupidly to try and convey that you didn't mean it, but with how he's splitting you open, you can't.
"Should’ve carried you over my shoulder out of the bar the second you opened that your mouth," he snarls, hips snapping into you harder. He drags you back onto his cock and stretches you out with each thrust.
His hand moves from your back to your throat, wrapping around it to guide your head back so you're forced to hear every word he sneers against your ear.
"Does this feel like I'm the one begging, baby?' he mutters, dragging his cock out almost all the way before slamming it back in, grunting as your body tightens around him. "You’re dripping. Can barely fuckin’ hold yourself up."
"Ngh, I-I'm sorry!" you mewl, lips parted as moans leave your lips. His cock feels so good inside you, and each time he pushes himself in completely, his cock leaves a soft kiss on your womb. His fingers squeeze, sinking into your skin as he pulls you down onto his cock, impaling you over and over. His breath comes hot and heavy against your neck, his tongue lolling out to lave over your sweat-sheened skin, tasting you.
His free hand finds your nipples, rolling and pinching the stiff peaks roughly, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting straight to your core. Your tits swell in his palms, aching and tingling from his groping, the hard points of your nipples feeling warm as he rolls the pads of his fingers over them, groping your breasts shamelessly while sinking his teeth into the column of your throat.
"Still got something to say? Huh?" he snaps, squeezing your throat hard enough to make your vision sparkle as he keeps driving into you, relentless and heavy, like he’s trying to fuck the brat out of you. "Go ahead. Say it again. Tell me I’m your bitch." You try to catch your breath, head swimming, and whisper something like "I didn’t mean-" but he shuts you up with another hard thrust that makes you gush around his cock.
His hips rise and fall with powerful thrusts, his massive cock disappearing into your plump, soaked pussy again and again. The thick, pulsing shaft stretches your entrance obscenely, your slick walls struggling to accommodate its girth. Each thrust forces lewd, wet squelches from your core, the obscene sounds of your juices being stirred up and splashed around his dick.
"Stupid mouth, always running," he breathes against your hair, his grip on your neck tightening just slightly. "Sayin' shit that makes me want to lose it. But I still show up for you. I still take care of you. I still let you act like a fuckin' brat because I love you."
You moan, turning your head to press your lips against his, hoping it shows him that you’re really sorry and love him just as much, and to your delight, he accepts it, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your mouth in response, his tongue rolling over yours. The head of his cock kisses your gummy sweet spot with every thrust, battering against the entrance to your womb, as if he intends to force his way inside and shove his cum right into your depths.
Suddenly, with a sudden, sharp tug on your hips, he pushes you forward off his lap. Before you can catch your balance, he's gripping your hips and pulling them back, shoving your upper body down onto the seats so you’re folded in half. The leather is cold and smooth against your palms as he positions you in front of him with him fucking into you from behind.
He wastes no time, gripping your hips hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises on your skin as he hilts inside you with one brutal, balls-deep thrust. The angle is different like this, allowing him to plunge even deeper, his spongy tip slamming into your cervix as he grips your hair and tugs your head back.
You're forced to arch your back, neck craning to look up in front of you as your boyfriend sets a vicious pace pounding into your slick pussy. Drool drips down your chin, a strand of saliva connecting your lower lip to your chin as garbled moans and desperate cries spill from your plush lips. "Fu-fuck, I’m s-sorry baby... f-feels so good, I... m-more please..."
Your words come out slurred, broken by every hard thrust that rocks your whole body forward, his grip iron tight on your hips as he keeps you exactly where he wants you, bent over in the seat like a perfect little mess just for him. The second that needy little more slips out, he lets out this ragged groan through gritted teeth, one hand releasing your hip only to come down with a sharp smack on your ass, making you jolt and whine.
"Oh, now you’re sorry?" he growls, voice dark and low, laced with that edge of fury he’s barely holding onto. "Didn't sound sorry when you were running your fuckin' mouth back there."
Your plump pussy lips hug his shaft like a vise, stretched taut around his girth and glistening with your juices. each time he draws his thick cock back, you grip onto him, almost sucking him back in. Your soaked cunt makes the filthiest squelching noises as his cock plunges in and out.
Your boyfriend groans unabashedly, head thrown back as each thrust brings him nearer to orgasm, his eyes fluttering shut. With one last thrust, he slams your hips back against his groin, grinding your ass into his pelvis as he hits your cervix.
His cock jerks and throbs, pulsing as it paints your insides white with his hot, thick cum. Rope after rope of his seed floods your womb, filling you to the brim.
The feeling of his hot cum gushing into you triggers an overwhelming orgasm of your own. You scream, back arching almost painfully as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clamps down on his spurting cock, the muscles rippling and milking him for every last drop of him.
He grinds against that sensitive spot deep inside you, rubbing and thrusting as he rides out the aftershocks of his climax. Every movement sends sparks of ecstasy shooting up your spine, drawing out your own orgasm. Your juices gush around his shaft, mixing with his cum as it squirts out around his cock with each press against that soft little sweet spot.
As the last spurts of cum paint your insides, your boyfriend leans over your back, his chest pressing into your shoulders as he pants heavily. His hands release your hips to trail slowly up your sides, almost tenderly, as if savoring the feeling of your sweat slicked flesh.
He huffs, low and warm against your skin, pressing a kiss to your shoulder now that he’s spent and still inside you. "Now we're gonna get you cleaned up and you're gonna tell my friends you're sorry for acting up. Let 'em see who you belong to."
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fucking the school loser behind your bf's back pt. ii
↳ pt i here!
he groans lowly and grabs for your waist, tugging you into him and kissing you messily. he doesn't let you catch your breath for a second, merely scooping you up with his hands under your thighs while he carries you, lips on yours, to his car out in the lot behind the football field.
your hands tangle up in his hair while your tongue rolls over his. for someone as strange and unsettling as him, he tastes oddly pleasant, like mint and smoke. his lips, though chapped, mould on yours so perfectly that it feels like he's made for you. he squeezes your thighs and nips your lower lip, murmuring into your mouth, "you're not walking into that stadium again unless it's with my cum dripping out of you."
you moan into his thought, warm and fuzzy at the idea of him breeding you in the back of his car and making you walk back to the pitch when he's done with his cum stuffed in you and dripping out every step you take.
your arms lace tighter around his shoulders as you go back to kissing him, tilting your head to get the perfect angle of your tongue against his, and your mewls get louder when you do. "mmh, mmh..." you hum softly.
his mouth moves against yours urgently, almost as if he's starving. his tongue slides against yours as he walks with you in his arms, slotting into your mouth in messy, wet strokes that make heatwaves travel through your body and pool at your core.
"you taste so sweet," you can feel how hard he's breathing and he squeezes you tightly like you might run away and never talk to him again after this.
you pull back just enough to breathe and he chases after you, lips dragging down to your jaw, your neck, his mouth warm and frantic. "don't stop," he mumbles against your skin, breath hot, voice wrecked. "give it back t'me. come on, pretty. kiss me again."
you oblige and shove your mouth back into his just as he reaches his sleek car, and he fists his pocket to find his keys, unlocking it without pulling away from you, and lays you down in the backseat under him with no effort. it smells like cedar and his natural, everyday scent. he doesn't let up off you for a second, already spreading your thighs apart so he can slot his body between your legs.
you're so small underneath him, pliant and needy and reaching up to tug at his clothes and his hair to ground yourself while he strips you fully, not wanting an inch of you covered. he could afford to do so, as his tinted windows and huge body hid you from any passerby that may wander near his car, though he doubts anyone would be anywhere but the game right now. anyone normal, of course. not little brats like you who wanna get pounded in the backseat of some social reject's car.
he's quick to strip you of every article of clothing on you except for your cute knee high socks and the lacy stretch of your panties, which are now so soaked that they've become sticky and translucent and stick to the plump lips of your pussy. "look at the nasty lil' mess you made." he tuts, voice mocking as his thumb runs over the outline of your cunt through your panties, which makes you jolt and instinctively reach to claw at his hand.
"w-wait! 'm sensitive," you whine, extremely tender from cumming so much already, but he doesn't seem to care at all. he pushes you back into place, grabbing your wrists firmly and pinning them above you with one of his huge hands. "no shying away after you begged me to fuck you like a little whore. you're gettin' what you asked for." he says sternly, still rubbing you through your panties.
you squirm beneath him, bucking up into his hand before wiggling away due to overstimulation. you don't know if you want more or less. your panties grind against his fingers, and he pushes his fingers up against your panties so your juices squelch and make a huge mess in your underwear.
he drags his thumb up slowly and presses just right against the swollen, soaked outline of your clit through the thin fabric, and you moan, high and whiny. he finally, finally pushes your panties aside, exposing your glistening cunt to the cool air of the car, and his eyes go hazy at the sight of the mess between your thighs. "fuck, you're so pretty down here," he mutters, fingers dipping into your folds, spreading you open with ease. he tosses your panties somewhere in the heap of your clothes at the floor of his car.
his fingers slip through your soaked, swollen folds easily, and he relishes in the little gasp you make as he notches his fingers knuckles deep inside you, twisting and curling his fingers immediately to stretch you out. his eyes are locked on the slick that strings from your pussy to the base of his fingers, and he groans in delight. you're this soaked for him. only him. he swirls his thumb around the tight ring of your asshole in the meantime, not pushing in yet, but to spread your slick around to your other hole too. "mmh, please, 'm sore," you whine, knowing how much you want it anyway.
"shh... you don't want me to stop. look at your pussy, she's gushing. didn't even need to prep you," he mocks, pumping his fingers into you fast and rough, your toes are curling against the leather backseat and your head lolls back, mouth falling open as loud moans leave you. you can't even respond anymore to tell him not to tease you, because your soaked cunt pulses every time he says something mean.
he pushes his fingers down inside you, the pads of his fingers resting still on that sweet spot deep inside you, while he fumbles with his belt and begins to tug down his pants and boxers. but too much pressure on such a sensitive spot inside you, which already experienced so much stimulation is far too much for you. you thrash underneath him, feeling a very odd coiling feeling in your tummy, and also the need to pee...
"w-wait, ngh! take your fingers out, p-please, i think... i think 'm gonna..!"
he ignores you, slipping in a third finger and using all three to push down hard on that spot, and before you can stop yourself, you're gushing around his fingers intensely with a scream so loud he has to let go of your wrists to cover your mouth.
he freezes once you squirt around his fingers which remain buried deeply inside your fluttering walls, and as you gush all over his hand in several hard, uncontrollable pulses, his eyes go wide, pupils blown out, and he leans back slightly to watch. "...oh, fuck."
his voice is quiet at first, like he genuinely can't believe what he just saw.
he looks down at you, eyes flicking from your soaked pussy and thighs to your brightly flushed face, then back to the ruined state of your pussy. "you just..." he breathes, curling his fingers inside you experimentally, which makes you jerk under him and gush a little more around him. he's fascinated. a girl like you can't be real, can you? "...squirted on my fingers."
he doesn't even try to hide how turned on he is. despite cumming earlier from frotting with you back outside behind the bleachers, he's rock hard again, cock bulging at the front of his cum soaked pants. he lifts his soaked hand up and parts his fingers to look at the gooey strings between him, and then pushes two fingers into his mouth, licking at your juices. you squeak, embarrassed beyond belief and red in the face, but still too far gone to tell him how dirty he's making you feel right now.
moaning at your taste, he pulls his boxers down to rest at his knees with his jeans, and his fat cock springs up, swollen and flushed a bright red at the huge, flared tip, with several strings of pearlescent liquid clinging to the fabric of his discarded boxers and more leaking down the shaft. you're both soaked. he lets go of you just long enough to line himself up at your soaked entrance, nudging the tip through your folds and collecting your slick. his other hand comes up to grab your throat, so he's holding you still, grounding you in place.
he makes sure to stare into your eyes intently as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. he sinks in slow at first, just the thick, heavy head of his cock pressing into your fluttering hole, and you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes rolling back, feet digging into the seat.
you whimper, nails scrabbling at his shoulders the second he frees your hands to hold onto your throat and hips. he leans down to kiss you again while you adjust to his size, fat tip swelling at your womb while he rests inside you and swirls his tongue around yours. he starts to move, slow at first, hips rolling, grinding, both of you panting into each other's mouths, your thighs shaking with every bounce. he pulls back just a little to murmur against your lips, "mnhh, shit, this pussy's fuckin' choking me."
you cry out under him, overwhelmed by the stretch and the sensation of his thick cock splitting you open inch by inch. it burns, but it's good. your body clenches around him helplessly. "too much... mmmh.... s'too big," you babble, but your hips don't stop moving under him, fucking yourself onto his cock even as tears prick the corners of your eyes.
"yeah?" he groans, fucking you so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. "but you said please, baby. remember? begged me to fuck you. so take it." he bottoms in and out in rough thrusts that make your whole body jolt, ensuring each thrust has him fully inside you. you're so soaked that he slides in perfectly every time, your walls clinging to him deliciously while his cock also slips inside you with filthy, loud schlick's. he's sliding in like nothing, your walls clenching and sucking him in tighter with every thrust while your slick soaks his shaft.
the car rocks as he thrusts into you, his cock splitting you open with each thrust deep inside you. your pussy stretches slightly to accommodate to is girth, and he feels his mind numbing at the way your pussy slurps him in with each thrust. he groans loud, head tipping back and his hand squeezing firmer around your throat to make your eyes flutter. not for long, though. he likes to look into your pretty eyes while he ruins you.
"open 'em," he demands, squeezing a little on the sides of your throat to jolt you back to the present. he slams into you with a particularly rough thrust, your tits bouncing and head lolling stupidly at the feeling of being fucked dumb on the school loser's huge fucking dick. "there you go. such a good girl f'me, aren't you?"
"uh... uh... uhhuhhh...." you breathe out stupidly, drool slipping past your parted lips. your fingers dig into his broad shoulders and then trail down his body, exploring his broad frame and muscles. before you look back into his eyes. he chuckles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your swollen lips, the gentleness contrasting the way he's pounding into you and holding your throat. "look at you." he hums. "forgot you're a disloyal little whore, didn't you?"
he snaps his hips up into yours, a small bulge forming in your tummy where he lodges his cock so deep inside you. "or maybe," he sneers, "you just don't care about anything but having your cunt stuffed to the brim."
you cry out, dragging him down so you can bury your face in his neck, and he kisses your jaw, fucking you while laying on top of you. "cum for me again," he demands, lips brushing your temple while his hips roll into yours. your legs tremble and curl around his waist, each thrust making your pussy flutter around him. you try to clamp down on him, but his girth makes it so difficult.
he's splitting you open with every drag of his cock against your raw, plushy walls. sobbing into his skin, he mumbles filth into your ear while his hands travel down to your waist and he drags your body up effortlessly so his cock is tilted up inside you, the perfect angle for him to hit that same spongy spot inside you over and over, making your mouth drop open in a silent scream. you clamp around him hard, fingernails digging into the firm muscle of his back. the pressure inside you winds tight, tight, tighter...
" 'm cumming!"
you explode around him, pussy convulsing around his cock. your whole body seizes, a strangled moan ripping out of you while you cream around him uncontrollably.
"fuck, fuck, look at you," he moans, watching your pussy pulse around him, fluttering on his cock like you were made for it. "holy shit, baby."
he pulls out just enough to see your slick gush after him before slamming back in, making you sob. he shoves your thighs up higher, practically folding you in half now, forcing you open wide so he can fuck even deeper. the wet, obscene sound of your cunt sucking him in grows louder with every thrust, echoing in the small space of the car, and he grits out, "you feel that? feel how deep i am? gonna fill you up, fuck, 'm gonna breed you."
your head spins and you nod frantically, moaning out broken, babbled yes's, even as tears slip from the corners of your eyes.
"fuck, fuck, fuck."
he buries himself to the hilt and cums hotly inside with a deep groan, heavy, fat balls twitching as he empties them deep inside you, so much at once that you can feel your womb filling up to the hilt. he keeps you locked against him so all of it floods inside you. "ngh... 's such a fuckin' perfect pussy," he groans aloud, mouth falling open as he keeps filling you and filling you and filling you until your belly distends just slightly from the volume of his cum.
you're gasping, clinging to him, body limp beneath him while you both ride it out together. he pants into your mouth, breathing hard, kissing you through the aftershocks. his voice is low, barely audible, wrecked. "mine. fuckin' mine. look what you do to me."
he stays inside you, twitching every now and then as your fluttering walls milk him, your slick and his cum seeping out around the base of his cock.
_
you make your way back to the football field with wobbly legs and your cheeks flushed. you tried your best to fix yourself up before going back, raking your fingers through your hair, redoing your mascara and touching up your lip gloss, praying it hides how swollen and red he made your lips.
you put your hair down so any marks on your skin aren't visible, not that your dumbass boyfriend looks at you close enough to be able to tell. the loner's cum is still hot and thick inside you, leaking a little down your inner thighs with every step, wetting the inside of your cheer skirt while the rest pools into fat globs in your panties.
the crowd is screaming loudly and your cheer girls are bouncing and huddled up with the football team. the whole field is lit up in bright stadium lights, and no one is looking around for you right now. you use it as an opportunity to slide in through the back fence and under the bleachers to act like you'd been here the whole time, and you go to where the other cheerleaders are. unfortunately, you weren't as subtle as you thought.
ava, one of the girls in your year that you usually hang out with at lunch squeals and grabs your arm. causing the other girls to quickly turn their attention to you too. "where were you?" she screeches. "coach was looking for you!"
you blink coyly, rubbing the back of your neck to give the impression of being embarrassed. "i just really had to pee," you lie "mid routine, but then i couldn't find the right bathroom, an' i got mixed up and all of them had super long lines, and i'm so sorry, i was literally crying the whole time-" you sniffle.
the girls coo over you. you're just too sweet and cute to be mad at. so sweet, that no one would ever think you just got fucked in the back of the school loser's car.
then, your boyfriend barrels into you, carrying the unpleasant scent of sweat from the exertion he produced while on the field. he yells your name and picks you up with both arms around your waist, causing a fresh scoop of cum to trickle out of you. you squeak, hoping it's not noticeable, and he spins you in a circle. "there you are!" he shouts, loud and giddy, "my girl! babe, we fucking crushed it!"
he kisses you hard, and you giggle awkwardly, letting him brag about his win like he didn't just get cheated on for the past hour and a half. "i was watching," you lie with a perfect little tilt of your head. "I saw everything! you did so good!."
and that's when he walks up. he stands out of the crowd on his own, mouth red, eyes low, and hair a little mussed. there are faint lipgloss marks on his neck and jaw that he didn't wipe off.
he's walked in like nothing's happened, stopping at the edge of the crowd with his gaze locked on you very blatantly. you stare back while in your boyfriend's arms, and he follows your gaze and scowls quickly, arms tightening around you. "the fuck is that guy looking at?" he snaps, his voice obnoxiously loud. "why is he staring at you like that?"
you blink innocently, letting your eyes go all wide and confused. "who?"
"him," your boyfriend hisses, nodding over your shoulder. "that fucking creep. what the hell is his problem?"
you shrug, still looking at him, not your boyfriend. "um... i dunno... maybe he's high?"
your boyfriend scoffs, and tugs you in closer like he's marking territory. "yeah, well, he can fuck off. that fucking freak's probably just scoping out girls he can perv out on. probably watches porn in his room all day."
he doesn't look away from you, even as your boyfriend runs his mouth. you wonder if he can still smell your perfume on his hoodie. you hug your boyfriend back and lean into him, coaxing him to just leave it. he obliges and carries you back to the crowd to celebrate, and you look over your shoulder one last time to see him finally turn and walk away.
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A freak (him) for a freak (me)? babe come back 😔
THE PRICE OF A GHOST — ADRIAN TEPES
does a secret, once uncovered, have the power to destroy the one who dared to look?
pairing — alucard x witchprincess!reader
synopsis — your connection with your lover is one for the books, but there is a shadow cast over your stolen moments of intimacy. a carefully guarded secret that alucard wears close to his heart. the passion he offers is intoxicating, yet an unsettling feeling persists: is he seeing you, or is he looking straight through you to someone else?
word count — 7.4k
content warning + tags — MDNI 18+ ONLY, fem reader, periodic au, angst, plot with smut, alucard having an ex for plot purposes (ooc)
Your laughter rang through the secluded room in the castle as you engaged in conversation with Trevor, rolling your eyes with a smile at another one of his insufferable remarks. Unbeknownst to you, irritation simmered just beneath the surface as Adrian watched closely, tightening his jaw and letting an unwavering frown sit atop his pretty face.
The hunter had the smuggest grin and Adrian’s lip curled up in disgust as he watched the banter, paying attention closely. Was he failing to see anything charming about him? He shouldn’t allow these thoughts to trouble him and yet he could not stop the tightness in his chest that refused to be ignored.
“What is it about him that I don't understand? Or is it just that you prefer the companionship of a crude hunter over someone who knows you?”
His words were sharp enough, cutting the tension you weren’t aware of. You turned around to face him, both of you now standing in the library, the fireplace crackling behind you as you placed down your book.
You sighed at his words, crossing my arms as your large dress pooled at your feet. “You mustn’t be so serious all the time Alucard,” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows and earning a silent scoff from him at the sound of his alias leaving your lips rather than his given name.
“Trevor is funny. And brighter than you would expect,” You slowly paced over to the near bookshelves, glancing over your shoulder at the dhampir.
A humorless smile tugged at his lips as he watched your dress rustle with every move.
"Funny? Bright? Is that what you value now?" His voice was softer, but no less edged—like a blade wrapped in velvet. "He laughs too loud and speaks too much, yet you find light in him?"
He stepped closer, golden eyes narrowing slightly. "And don’t deflect with that name—Alucard. You know who I am beneath it. And still… you choose jests over silence that understands you."
A beat passed—quiet save for the crackle of distant firelight. "...Do I amuse you, (name)? Or am I simply... inconveniently intense?"
You swallowed softly, letting him speak and being utterly dumbstruck in return. Silence passed between you two before your eyes darted away but he simply stepped into your view, desperate to be seen by you.
“You know why I call you Alucard. Your name is too intimate, too…important to be spoken in passing by just anyone.”
“You are not just anyone-”
“It carries grief and sorrow.” Your voice broke out, interrupting his interruption as your eyes finally met once again. “Witches don’t take names like that lightly,”
“And you do amuse me Alucard, I never said otherwise,” You looked at him with a huff. “What is up with you this evening? You are unusually…alarmed. Trevor is good company but so are you. 2 things can be true,”
The mention of his name, spoken in that soft tone, stirred something deep within him—a flicker of emotion he tried desperately to quell.
“I do not need amusement, not if it means sharing your attention with fools like Trevor."
His fingers curled into tight fists at his sides. "What am I, (name)? A distraction? Something to be set aside when better... options present themselves?" His jaw tensed again, but he forced himself to take a slow, measured breath—an attempt to regain a measure of composure.
You quirked an eyebrow in confusion, taken aback, fully turning to face him as you took a step closer. “Is— is that what this is?” You questioned with raised eyebrows, an amused smile curling on your lips before you got rid of it at the sight of his embarrassed expression.
“You are jealous. You. Jealous of Trevor?” It was almost laughable.
He stiffened at the accusation, the word jealous echoing in his ears. He opened his mouth to deny it, to deflect, but all his words died on his tongue.
Your heels clicked against the floor as you took strides towards him till your chests were touching and you grasped his long, pale hands in yours.
“Alucard, you are my lover. When I said Trevor was bright and funny, I did not mean you weren’t,” Your lips formed a thin line, your eyes widening slightly in reassurance.
“You too are bright and funny. You make me laugh, and think. Deeply. Your humor is different from Trevor’s yes, but in a good way. You two offer different perspectives on things and that is fine,”
His eyes widened, surprise flickering in them as you spoke—he had expected an argument, for you to dismiss his concerns. But here you were…taking his hands, reassuring him, comparing him to Trevor of all people.
His fingers curled around yours, gripping tightly. His voice was rough when he spoke.
"I… I'm being foolish, aren't I?"
“A little. But I like it,” You squeezed his hands in yours before chuckling and kissing his cheek and a warmth bloomed across his features.
“Calm down, Adrian,” His birth name uttered from your lips like an incantation and almost instantaneously he obeyed. Your hand rubbed up his arm and glanced at his golden eyes and locks, smiling softly.
He exhaled sharply—his name, that name, on your lips, was like sunlight breaking through centuries of storm. Adrian. Not Alucard. Not the warrior, not the weapon.
Him.
His shoulders dropped, his forehead reached forward onto yours, the tension melting from his frame as if you’d undone a spell with just a whisper.
"...You say it like it is sacred," he murmured, voice unsteady now—not from anger, but awe. "And when you do... I forget how to be anything but yours."
He lifted his free hand to trace your jawline with trembling fingers. "Maybe I needed to hear it. Or maybe I just needed you to remember that I am not made of stone." A rare, soft smile touched his lips. "Even if I act like it."
“And I need you to realize I am not made of porcelain,” A faint, knowing smile touched his lips as you pivoted, not bothering to check if he was trailing you. He was.
You fluffed your dress, settling on the window alcove, gazing out over your kingdom.
“I’m not some fragile being you need to protect from everything bad,” You crossed your arms and ankles, eyes never surrendering his image.
“I am a lady, yes….I am a witch princess, yes, but that is not all to me,”
His gaze was unyielding, steady now—no longer storming, but deepening like the quiet before dawn. He didn’t sit beside you right away. Instead, he leaned against the stone windowsill, arms crossed as if guarding himself from his own impulses.
"Fragile?" he echoed softly, turning his golden eyes to the moonlit towers below. "No... I don't see you as porcelain, (name)."
He turned his head slowly to meet your stare—intense once more, but not with jealousy this time. With recognition.
"I see a storm in you," he murmured. "A quiet hurricane wrapped in silk and firelight. You command roots and stars alike... yet still." A pause—he looked down at his hands briefly before meeting your eyes again.
"Still… I fear for you when others don’t understand your strength only because it doesn’t look like steel or fang."
His voice dropped lower.
"I know what it means to be more than one thing—half monster, half man—and yet expected to choose one nature over another." He stepped forward and knelt by the seat so your eyes were level again, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face.
"You're right—I protect too fiercely." A flash of humility softened his features. "...But not because I think you break easily."
"Because I'd burn the world before letting anything dull that light in you."
“You speak so poetically. I’m jealous.”
A deep chuckle replied to your quip as you both silently got lost in the other’s eyes. His lips quirked in response, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. He'd expected a lecture, a tongue-lashing, a dismissal—instead you called him poetic? Only you.
With a single, fluid motion, you ascended, the subtle persuasion of your grasp and a soft, upward pressure on his hand guiding him to follow to which he wasted no time obeying.
“Come, it is late,”
His hand tightened around yours as you pulled him to his feet. "Late?" He questioned, but didn't protest as he let you lead him away. "Do you plan on keeping me up all night again?" His gaze darkened, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You glanced at him with a smile as you made your way through the long corridors, passing by knights who bowed.
When the pair finally made it to your corridor, you pushed him into your chambers, barely shutting the door with his body as you pressed him against it, placing a kiss on his lips. A peck. Then another on one cheek and one on the other.
His arms encircled your waist as you peppered kisses across his face, savoring the sweetness in every soft touch. He gazed at you with nothing but pure love an adoration, one hand reaching to cradle your face, a thumb stroking your cheek while the other gently along your hips.
"Is this how you treat all your guests?" he teased, ducking his head to capture your lips in a real kiss this time, his hand moving up to thread in your hair.
You smiled into the kiss, gasping slightly at the surprise. You hummed at his question, parting your lips just slightly to respond.
“Just the really handsome ones,”
He groaned, his grip on you tightening as you bit his lip, deepening the kiss. He'd meant the tease flirtatiously, but the way you'd responded awakened something more in him. Something impatient.
He pressed closer, moving his hand from your hair to your jaw and tilting your head back to expose the soft expanse of your neck. He pressed a trail of kisses down the column of your throat, his voice muffled against your skin.
"Mmm. I suppose I'm in good company then," he murmured in response.
Pushing you forward and keeping his lips locked onto yours, he didn’t stop till the back of your legs hit the frame of your bed to which he gently placed you down on. His eyes roved over body, nimble fingers moving quickly to push up your dress, crinolines and petticoat. How he despised these dresses during times like this.
“Forgive me, I am too impatient to fully undress you tonight,” He choked out, almost ripping off the rest of your undergarments to expose you to him.
“Marvelous,” Was all he could mutter out. His throat dried at the sight of how wet you were from barely his touch.
How did he get so lucky?
His fingers gently pressed against your folds, the stickiness immediately coating his fingers as he pushed in. A low groan left your lips as you bit them, keeping your gaze on him. He started a slow pace, pushing in and out, gently, as he always was with you. He took them out momentarily to lick his fingers and almost creamed in his pants.
“..y-yeah..” His hips stuttered just at the taste as he bucked them into the mattress, his cheeks already starting to glow a rosy shade. He was pathetic.
He dove his long fingers back in and your cunt could do nothing but clench around them, desperate for him just as he was for you. His tongue came to rub on your clit and you had to clench at your torso to keep yourself from cumming right there and then.
“Fuck…like that,” You moaned out, your eyes glazed over and so were his. Golden eyes staring at you like you hung the moon, adding pressure after pressure on the spot that he knew turned you into a dumb babbling mess.
He glanced up at you, as if giving you a moment to prepare yourself, running his hand up and down your thigh before finally leaning in and disappearing under your huge gown. You felt a small kitten lick on your folds and threw your head back at the contact.
His eyes widened as if he’d forgotten how you tasted on his tongue. More slow tentative licks followed and you could do nothing but whine out.
He wanted to see you, look at how ruined you became but this damned dress was in the way so he made sure you were extra loud. It was sudden how his tongue flicked over your clit and manic licks came afterward, quick like he was being chased.
Your legs wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard as you reached for his hair, tugging under all your extreme garments. Damn those.
You couldn’t even speak, lifting your hips and rubbing it in a circle, grinding all over his face as his nose hit your clit over and over again, his tongue lapping at you like a man dying of thirst.
He was ravishing you. Worshipping you.
“Adri-Adrian-” You cry out, clenching your teeth together as you felt that familiar squeeze in your core. “S-slow…slow..” You tried to sound out but every hushed syllable that left your lips fell on deaf tears.
“All over my face darling- want you…all over my face,” He gasped out, hands coming to clench around your thighs, pushing his face deeper as he humped the mattress, continuing his ministrations till you could do nothing but succumb to it.
Oh but he didn’t stop there, he never did. He let you ride out your high, continuing to lick and bite and suck. His fangs hit your sticky folds as he got started once more, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.
“Thats it- please–” He moaned out, lapping up all of your juices, careful not to spill a drip.
You were barely awake when he finished, eyes fluttering, unaware of how many times you’d reached your peak, and so was he.
It was almost pitiful how he was able to cum so easily by only giving you pleasure. He palmed himself through his pants as he took a step back, just watching you lay there, waiting for him. You’d touch yourself to give him a show too if you could.
His eyes fluttered as he added more pressure, rubbing his clothed cock over his hand. The sight was too intoxicating, you freed one of your breasts from your corset, moaning as your fingers circled the bud.
“I need you…”
“Need me where baby?” He shed his pants, now pumping himself, tightening his hold to mimic the grip of your gummy walls as he used the cum leaking out of his tip as lube.
“Need you in me…filling up my senses-”
“Fuck..” He murmured, groaning as he looked up, closing his eyes in euphoria, biting his lip. He stepped towards you with shallow breaths, leaning down and gently pushing himself in.
God you were so aroused and tight. His pupils dilated at the tight squeeze, almost cumming again. He paused to calm himself down before pushing in once more and you both moaned together. His forehead came to press on top of yours as your lips connected in a sloppy kiss and so did your hips.
The pace was unruly, slow, unorganized but it was deep, sensual and intimate. Every time his tip kissed your g-spot, you let out a matching moan. It was just nasty. The way your eyes stayed on each other as he fucked you.
“I love you…I love you…” He muttered in between thrusts and kisses, one hand coming to cradle your face as your bodies moved together. He squeezed his eyes shut but you held his chin to keep his focus on you.
“Fuck…I love you baby..” He whined, pushing up your garments to watch where the both of you were connected. A mess was made in between your thighs and he swiped some of the liquid, pressing it between his lips as he thrusted deeper and deeper.
“..So much..”
The sun pierced the stained glass in your bedroom, laying down bright streaks upon the floor, and landing on your face as you stirred in the bed, waking up from your slumber, your dignity preserved only by Adrian’s shirt and your blankets after the events of last night.
Reaching for Alucard, you noticed him already awake in all of his naked glory. He'd been lost in thought, golden eyes staring into nothingness as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Alucard?” You questioned, sitting up and letting the covers fall off your body. A hand found his elbow, a gentle, possessive tug meant to keep him wrapped in the sheets.
At the sound of his voice, he started, as if emerging from a trance. Your hand wrapping around his broke through the haze, and he turned. Your sleepy smile, your half-lidded eyes, the way his shirt hung loosely off your shoulders—it all tugged at the corners of his lips, pulling a rare, tender smile from him.
"...Good morning," he murmured, letting you pull him back under the covers.
“Good morning, you’re still naked,” you chuckled, bringing the covers up to his waist to shield him. You leaned over him, resting your head against his chest as your fingers slightly traced his abs. “How long have you been up?”
His arm curled around your shoulders, holding you against his bare chest. He let out a soft hum, a sound of contentment as he lovingly gazed at you. The early morning light cast a soft glow over your skin, and he found himself tracing your collarbone lazily with his knuckles.
"Not long," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Just thinking."
His other hand idly toyed with a loose strand of your hair, his thoughts already drifting elsewhere.
“Of?” You questioned, your fingers gently poking his cheek with a mischievous smile. He didn’t stop your absentminded trailing into his mouth, your fingers prodding and poking at his fangs. Instead, he continued speaking like they weren’t even there. He’d gotten used to your curiosity over the time he’s known you.
"You," he said simply, voice low and warm like embers. "The way you look when you sleep—like the world finally makes sense." His golden eyes flickered down to meet yours, amused despite the intensity in them. "And how foolish I was last night… letting jealousy twist my tongue."
He caught your wandering fingers gently between his own before they could drift too close to the sharp edge of a fang. Held them. Kissed each fingertip slowly. Your heart fluttered.
"...And how someone as fierce as you chooses to let a creature like me rest beside her." A pause—"Still baffles me, (name)."
The sound of his voice grew velvety, reflected in the newfound calm of his regard.
"You poke at my fangs like they’re toys… but forget I can tear through steel with them." He tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. "Yet all you do is trace them—like they belong in sonnets instead of bloodshed."
His thumb brushed over your knuckles. "...I suppose you make monsters feel... human."
You smiled softly, whispering a calming truth in return.
“They never poke me,”
Anyone else’s fingers can’t get close without blood being drawn and still your daily attempts bear no fruit.
“You’re not a monster Adrian, and you are human,”
He paused, your words bringing a quiet stillness over him. No one—not even his own father—had said them to him with such conviction. Hearing you call him 'human' without a shred of doubt in your voice… it touched a part of his heart he'd long thought gone.
Gold eyes locked with yours for a long moment. He let go of your hand and shifted closer, his forehead gently coming to rest against yours, his voice a soft hush against your skin. "I've done monstrous things, (name)," he confessed quietly.
“I have you now, it’s alright,” You offered a steady presence, running your fingers through his hair as a sigh escaped him, and he closed his eyes.
He could feel the tension leaving his shoulders, bit by bit, as your soothing voice settled over him. God, he loved you.
He stayed like that for a long while, just taking comfort in the proximity of your presence—in the fact that you could see past his fangs, and the scars of his deeds, to touch the humanity beneath.
Then, finally, he spoke again.
"...Promise me something."
You felt the intimate realignment of his weight, and your gaze sharpened to meet his, one brow already lifting in recognition of his presence above you.
A soft question of “yes?” escaped your lips as you gazed up at his unclad form hovering over yours, giving silent consent as his hands began the deliberate task of undoing the buttons of your borrowed shirt.
He gently peeled the shirt off your shoulders, his gaze darkening as you lay beneath him—all silken skin and long limbs. He'd been a fool to feel jealous last night, he thought, as he took you in. No one else could touch you like this. No one else had seen the soft, sleepy-eyed beauty he'd just woken up to.
His fingers traced the line of your collarbone, his eyes fixed on the place where your pulse beat in your throat. His voice was a low murmur against your ear.
"Promise you won't ever leave me."
His gaze was clouded a glassy sheen, their surface slick with an emotion that bordered on tears, while his voice possessed a brittle edge—a plea barely contained.
“I won’t. I promise,”
His fingers traced the contour of your chest.
“I’m not afraid of you,”
He chuckled softly at your reply, your certainty reassuring like nothing else. His hand splayed across your hip, his thumb lazily tracing small circles there as he looked down at you, golden eyes still darkened with desire.
"Afraid?" he repeated, his voice dropping lower still. He leaned down to press his lips to the crook of your shoulder, the edge of a fang scraping gently against your skin.
"I know I don't scare you, (name)." He moved to kiss your throat—your pulse beating there, steady as your promise.
"But... do I…excite you?"
“Yes,”
The silence was broken softly by your reply, your sight tracing his every motion until you were securely settled in the warm, private angle of his lap.
Your answer sent a shiver down his spine, and he pressed closer, feeling the heat of your thighs against his hip. His lips traced a path from the hollow of your throat to the soft edge of your jaw before he replied, breath hot against your skin.
"Good,"
He shifted, positioning himself against you. He could feel the way your body responded to him, and it was like a drug—your soft sighs and the way your pulse raced, everything that reminded him you were alive and his.
The fever of that moment finally burned itself out, leaving behind a shared, heavy stillness. You both lay tangled in the quiet ruin of the heat, listening only to the ragged rhythm of your breathing as the distant, wakeful sounds of the early day began to filter through the windows.
He held you close in the afterglow, watching you gaze up at the ceiling, your hair splayed like a halo around you on the pillow. His fingers lazily traced patterns on your arm, the gentle rhythm a soothing counterpoint to the intensity of what had just happened.
His golden eyes studied your profile, a quiet reverence in them. You were beautiful, always, but here in the dim lighting, it was almost unbearable.
He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "You're thinking."
Your lips compressed into a quick, defensive smile as you cast him a sidelong glance. A short, exasperated breath escaped, followed by a slight, negating turn of the head.
“It’s nothing,”
"Liar," he murmured, voice velvet and knowing. He turned onto his side, propping his head on one hand as he looked down at you. His free hand slid over your waist, pulling you slightly closer.
"You always sigh like that when something's weighing on your mind." A pause. "Or when you're trying not to say something foolishly noble."
His thumb brushed your lower lip. "Out with it, (name)."
“...I was just..- thinking about everyone you’ve loved before me,” You suddenly said, fidgeting with your fingers. “You never told me but you were too much of a romantic to be single before me.”
He froze for a moment, eyes flickering with surprise at your sudden confession. He'd braced himself for something about the future, or about your own doubts or worries. Not... this.
He was quiet and still for so long that you almost thought he hadn't heard you, but then he spoke, his voice unusually rough—like his throat was sandpaper.
"You want to know about the women I loved before you."
It wasn't a question.
“Do you still mourn anybody?…Love anybody?” Your curiosity was voiced, yet you kept your expression rigidly blank, the sound of my question betraying neither hope nor fear.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his gaze dropping to your necklace—anything to avoid your eyes, just for a moment. How did he even begin to answer that question? How did he explain the ache of losing everyone you loved, year after year, century after century, while remaining the same?
He closed his eyes and let his head fall until his forehead pressed against yours, a rare show of vulnerability, even for you. His voice was barely a whisper when he finally responded.
"Does it matter?"
“Who was she?”
The moment his words turned evasive, you already had the quiet answer: he was still bound by his endearing love for another. You drew back slightly, pulling your forehead from his to absorb the entire landscape of his expression.
He winced a little, his eyes still closed as if afraid to look you in the eye. The question echoed in his ears like the toll of a funeral bell—sharp and final.
But he knew he couldn't lie to you, even if he wanted to. Not about this. So he opened his eyes and looked at you directly, the intensity of his golden gaze belying the tender ache in his voice.
"She was..." he started, and then paused—as if he couldn't quite believe the words coming out of his own mouth—"the love of my life."
Your silence was deafening, and his eyes flickered over your face, studying your expression—waiting for some flicker of jealousy, some sign of hurt. But your face was unreadable, and it only made his throat go even drier. He swallowed hard and continued, his voice rougher now.
"She was... perfect. Smart, kind, fierce, beautiful." Every word tasted like barbed wire in his throat, but he pushed on, as if each syllable pained him.
"I loved her with everything I had."
“And you still do,”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. You saw the truth plain as day, written in the unbidden flicker of brilliance that crossed his eyes upon her remembrance, and heard it in the unmistakable cadence of fondness that entered his speech. The evidence was overwhelming; there was nothing left to contest.
He didn't try to deny it. How could he, when you'd seen straight through him so easily? He let out a bitter scoff, shaking his head as the bitter taste of truth rose in his throat. "Yes," he said, his voice a rough growl. "I still do."
And there it was, laid bare between you, the ugly confession he'd never wanted to make. He still loved her. Despite all these years.
A line deepened between your brows as you fixed your stare on him. “Why didn’t you turn her?” You draped your blanket around your bare torso and immediately focused on tracing the familiar curve of your collarbone, a sudden need for distraction consuming your hands.
The question felt like a dagger to his heart, and he shifted to sit up as well, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"It's not that simple," he said, a mix of anger and helplessness in his voice. "You can't force immortality on someone, (name)."
He looked at you then, really looked at you—your face, your eyes, the way your fingers still fidgeted with your skin. Something twisted deep in his chest at the sight.
"She didn't want it."
The conversation shattered into stillness. You turned your gaze elsewhere, giving his statement space to hang suspended and absorb its full, difficult weight.
His own eyes dropped down to the bed, staring at the sheets that pooled around his waist. The memories of her that had long been buried under layers of time came rushing back all at once—every stolen moment, every touch, the sound of her laugh. The ache in his core, once dulled by years of solitude, flared to life in his chest like a fresh wound.
He hated this feeling—this weakness. He'd always prided himself on his self-control, his ability to endure anything, but she… she was the one weakness he could never overcome.
“What was her name?”
He looked up again at the sound of your voice, the sound bringing him back to the present. He could see the guarded expression on your face, the way you were studying him. Part of him wanted to keep it to himself, to protect you from the memories that haunted him. But another part of him wanted you to know, needed you to understand.
"Cecilia." His voice was barely a whisper, the name like a prayer as it left his lips. "Her name was Cecilia."
The memory stopped you short. You suddenly recalled the ring pendant—the initial 'C' etched into its surface, worn like a second skin. That same faint, hidden 'C' marked the hilt of his sword and was subtly pressed into the leather of his gloves. The scattered pieces aligned, revealing the whole truth. “She was your wife?”
His fingers twitched, as if wanting to reach for the very objects you'd just mentioned. He nodded, a sharp jerk of his head in affirmation. "Yes," he said, his voice hoarse with the effort of holding back the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "We were married."
Your quiet hum was somehow worse than your questions, and it drove him crazy. The silence was deafening, each second feeling like an eternity as he waited for you to say something, anything. The way you kept your gaze fixed on the sheets, avoiding his eyes, only heightened the knot of tension in his stomach.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he broke the silence with a desperate, low whisper. "Say something, please baby."
Your teeth caught your lower lip, and a slow, quiet sigh escaped as you shook your head in utter defeat. Your face offered only silent confusion, brows arching high in stark, bewildered proof that your mind was utterly vacant of words he’d want to hear.
“I have nothing to say to you now, Alucard,” You finally admitted.
His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he fought to keep his voice steady. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut—sharp and unexpected.
"Nothing to say," he repeated, his tone edged with disbelief. "After all the truths I've laid bare before you, you have nothing to say to me?"
His intense eyes fixed on your face, searching for some hint of emotion, some sign that the confession had affected you as deeply as it had affected him. But your expression remained unreadable.
“I need time,”
You had just managed to utter the last word—the painful, final resignation—before a sharp, insistent rap fractured the fragile silence of the chamber. It was the signal: the court was awake, and the private morning was over. "Your Grace, it is time," one of the maids, likely Annelise, called through the thick wood of the door, her tone crisp and professional, instantly dragging you back to your official role.
You moved on instinct, the urgency a physical jolt. You snatched the nearest silk robe from the back of a chair, throwing its heavy weight around your shoulders like a shield. Without looking back, you unfurled from the bed, crossing the distance to the door in two swift motions.
"We must prepare the Royal Wardrobe immediately, there is an assembly at midday," another voice chimed in, rushing and anticipatory.
You didn't pause to offer a reply. As you pulled the heavy door inward, stepping past the threshold and into the bustling corridor, the last vision you allowed yourself was of him, solitary and motionless in the midst of the disheveled sheets of your bed. You left him suspended there, alone in the sudden quiet of your abandoned chambers, and let the heavy door swing shut on the conversation and the moment.
He didn’t move.
Sat frozen on the edge of your bed, bare shoulders hunched forward like a man struck down.
The warmth of you still lingered in the sheets, in the air—but not on his skin anymore.
Cecilia. Wife. Still loved.
All truths he'd buried deep beneath centuries of silence—and now laid bare before you, only for you to walk away with nothing but "I need time."
His hand found it then—the ring under his pillow. He pulled it free slowly and stared at the engraved C catching sunlight through the windows.
A bitter breath escaped him.
"...Time," he murmured to no one. "The one thing I have too much of."
And for once—he hated it utterly.
The day bled into twilight, and you finally returned to the solitude of your chambers. The elaborate, voluminous fabric of your dress seemed to float around you, a heavy, silencing presence. You paced the polished wood, the quiet click of your heels marking the slow, restless rhythm of your anxiety.
It was during one of these circuits that a single, sudden glint caught your eye—a stray spark of reflected light near the coat stand. Curiosity pulling you closer, you found the source: a sliver of polished gold peeking from the deep pocket of his discarded traveling coat.
You walked over, your sweeping skirt brushing the floor with a soft rustle, and reached in to retrieve the cool metal object. It was a locket, heavy and intimately worn. With a delicate press of the clasp, you opened it, and your breath hitched.
Staring back was your own image.
A soft, bewildered smile touched your lips. Your fingertip lifted, tracing the familiar lines of your face captured within the frame. You kept a picture of me in your locket, you thought, the sentiment sparking a low, soft chuckle in your throat.
But the gold slipped, falling from your careless grip and hitting the wooden desk with a muted thud. As you quickly retrieved it, the picture—your picture—slipped free. Your eyes widened, not at the accident, but at what lay revealed underneath.
Another image. Another woman.
She was your perfect, ghostly twin. The same jawline, the same precise curve of the mouth, the identical shape of the eyes—only her skin was a different color, and her hair a vibrant shade. You plucked the second picture out, your fingers trembling, and inverted it, finding a single name scrawled on the back.
Cecilia.
A chill, profound and sickening, trapped the air in your lungs. You stood perfectly still, rooted by disbelief, the sounds of the world receding—so much so that you failed to register the faint click of the door as it eased open.
He stepped inside, Alucard, his stride confident, only for the sound of his footsteps to falter abruptly when his gaze landed on you, frozen, his private locket in your hand.
For a moment, his golden eyes widened in surprise, a flash of something wary crossing their depths. He'd half expected to find the room empty, but there you were. Then his gaze dropped like a stone to the open locket, his eyes narrowing instantly at the photo of Cecilia you clutched.
"What are you doing with that?" he demanded.
You offered no reply; you didn't even turn your body toward him. Instead, you let the locket drop heavily onto the nearby desk, leaving it for him to claim. You took a couple of slow, deliberate steps forward, creating a chilling, measurable distance before you finally pivoted to face him, the visceral shock and disbelief a stark mask upon your features.
He felt the sudden, sickening twist in his stomach as he absorbed the full, wounded exposure of your expression.
He lowered his head, his fingers closing around the locket, securing the weight of the secret. His golden gaze flickered rapidly between your shocked face and the small, intimate pictures within—a complex, defensive mixture of bravado and naked vulnerability warring in their depths.
"So you found it," he finally stated, his voice a low, gravelly growl that scraped against the silence. "Are you going to condemn me for keeping a picture of my dead wife?"
A sharp, involuntary scoff escaped your lips, a sound of profound disbelief that lacked all humor. You had no words for the sheer audacity of his question. You simply stared, a deep, carved frown settling upon your mouth as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, a sudden, defensive wall. You tried to speak—your lips parted twice, three times—but the faculty of language had abandoned you; it was as if your tongue had forgotten how to form sound.
Your silence was its own condemnation, a profound, icy slap across his guarded features. There were no tears, no dramatic outburst of anger he could combat—just that deep-set frown and a hard, unyielding stare that saw everything.
He took a slow, visible breath, his own jaw tightening to granite as he absorbed your reaction. Some of his earlier defensiveness seemed to crumble under the weight of your expression. His voice, when it came again, was quieter, raw, stripped of its bravado.
"Say something," he pleaded, the words now barely a whisper. "Anything."
"You need to leave," you stated suddenly, the words emerging cold and sharp against the sudden lump you were forced to swallow in your throat. You took another step back, increasing the emotional and physical distance between you.
The command felt like a physical stab to his core, and he flinched involuntarily, a quick tremor passing through his shoulders. The locket remained clutched tightly in his hand, but he did not move, his resolute golden eyes anchored fiercely on your face.
"Leave," he repeated, disbelief and hurt mingling in his voice. "Just like that?"
He dropped his gaze to the locket then back up again, a flicker of pain passing across his face.
"You're kicking me out because I still hold a memory of a woman I loved and lost a century ago?"
A sudden, visceral heat ignited in your chest, a burst of righteous, consuming fury. Your voice was tight, strained with the effort to contain the explosion. "She looks like me. Exactly like me," you ground out, your head shaking slightly in a motion of stunned disbelief as your eyes locked onto his.
"Is that... is that what you see when you look at me? Her?" The question was a weapon, sharp and desperate. "That’s the only reason you ever approached me, isn't it?" You let out a short, harsh scoff of pure, acidic anger. "I was a blind, utter fool!"
The words spilled out, gathering momentum and pain. "You don’t love me, you simply love who I remind you of. You love who you can pretend I am when I’m in your arms. You made love to me in my bed, wearing a ring with her initial carved on it around your neck!"
The last remaining thread of control snapped. The final accusation was a raw, aching scream of betrayal. "You...." You searched for a word strong enough, finding only the simplest and most devastating. "Liar!"
His face drained of color at your words—each accusation like a lash across his soul. He staggered back as if struck, the locket slipping from his fingers to clatter against the floor.
"No," he breathed, voice cracking. "No, (name)—that's not—"
He lunged forward a step, but stopped himself when you flinched. His hands trembled at his sides.
"You think I chose you because of her?" His voice dropped to a raw whisper, grief and fury tangled in every syllable. "You think I looked at you and saw only Cecilia?"
He tore the ring from around his neck with such force it snapped the chain—and hurled it across the room.
The sound echoed through the chamber like thunder in silence.
"Look at me!" he demanded, eyes blazing with something desperate and unguarded. "Have I ever treated you like a memory? Have I ever called you by her name? Have I not learned your favorite flower—the way your breath hitches when you're trying not to cum? The way you bite my lip just before dawn breaks over us?"
His chest rose sharply with each ragged breath.
"I kept that picture because it was all I had left for centuries… but do not dare say that’s why I love you."
A pause—he stepped closer slowly now, voice breaking.
"I love you, (name)—not some ghost who died long before she could know what we are."
"You are no replacement. You are my present... my choice."
The raw honesty of his demand, the sincerity in his voice, did nothing to soothe the roiling inferno in your chest. Instead, it fueled a cold, terrible clarity. You looked at the man before you and saw not a reformed lover, but a creature whose love, however complicated, was utterly genuine.
"It wasn't fair," you stated, your voice low and dangerous, trembling not with sorrow, but with the effort of control. "The lie, the secret in my bed. You kept her there. You may say you love me," your voice cracked with pure scorn on his name, "but you made a choice to deceive me first, and that choice is all that matters."
Your body was rigid, burning with the sudden, crushing clarity of your decision. You looked past the pleading in his eyes, past the pain in his voice, and saw only the unassailable truth of the second picture.
"I am no one's second chance," you hissed, your words lacerating the air between you. You wrapped the unyielding authority of your title around your spine, letting it freeze the terrible love in your heart.
"You must leave this kingdom. Now." The command was a death sentence, delivered with an arctic finality that brooked no debate.
His eyes, wide and luminous, reflected the instant, devastating comprehension. He didn't argue; he didn't move to touch you. He only staggered back a step, the rejection a visible, physical force that knocked the breath from his lungs. He finally met your gaze, his own filled with a promise that this consequence would tear him apart for centuries more.
He lowered his head in a slow, sickening nod—the acceptance of his banishment. He didn't look at the abandoned locket; he simply turned and moved to the door, his form suddenly looking immense and utterly defeated.
You stood rooted, watching the heavy, defeated slump of his shoulders. You needed to hold the line, to be the princess. But the moment his hand touched the cool metal of the latch, the control shattered.
A soundless, ragged sob clawed its way from your throat. You whirled away from the sight of the closing door and stumbled toward the desk, your hands shooting out to clutch the edge of the polished wood as your knees betrayed you. The fine silk of your dress crumpled around you as you collapsed onto your heels, your body wracked by deep, silent, gut-wrenching sobs.
You had banished the one thing you loved, and the silence that settled over the chamber was the desolate sound of your broken heart.
The quiet room was now a vast, empty tomb for a love that had never truly been yours.
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Ni Alucard se salvó de la maldición de ser hombre. 🥀