So Tender :( - Blog Posts

saying bj's gay is just not enough anymore, I needed to do this shit about it

Oh, to be held.

Oh god no I fear I love this way too much

I’m new to tumblr so I’m not completely sure how this works. First post, and it’s wolfstar!

horrible gay people who hate each other (they are in love)

Benefits Package St. Valentine's Special Part 2 (Alucard x Fem Reader)

Please see Part I for overall notes; this is sensual/Reader being looked after; blood/biting mention, but there is nothing sexual (sorry!). Part II takes place at an as-yet-unspecified time after Part I.

Your life was routine as it could be, given that you worked for a woman who casually used the world's most fearsome monster as a weapon. You woke up--sometimes in your bed, sometimes where you had crashed after another late night at work--worked your way through whatever Sir Integra needed from you, ate your simple meals, and then worked well into the night attending to all the small things that were always getting postponed to take care of the types of crises the Hellsing Organization got called on to make go away.

You rubbed your hands together and yawned. Probably best to stop soon; this was detail work and best not done when you were this tired. And, as your stomach unceremoniously reminded you, hungry.

You realized that--

"You haven't eaten dinner yet, little human."

You still jumped whenever Alucard manifested himself, but you generally didn't shriek anymore. "You're right, I should go to the kit--"

"No," Alucard said, offering you a hand as you got out of your chair. You were surprised to see he was just wearing his suit. He looked much more...formal without his duster. As always, he was devastatingly beautiful, red eyes and lustrous hair, just the perfect length--slightly unruly, but not overly long.

"It's too late for the kitchens," he said, in a strangely--and seductively--commanding tone. "I have prepared something already."

"That's very kind, thank you."

Alucard offered you a strong arm and your fingers slid over the fine wool of his suit. You were not a tiny thing, but you felt it as he guided you down the halls. He was not so casual or modern as to touch the small of your back or to intertwine fingers; no, in these moments, whatever of the Old Aristocrat, the boy who had been part of a class that saw itself as separate and superior and demanded expressions of that superiority through the flawless performance of prescribed ritual, manifested itself. He walked in march time, gaze always straight ahead, and it was fascinating to see this vestige of court drill still embedded him after all this time.

He opened the door to one of the dining rooms, where the table was appointed with a lace tablecloth, candlesticks, fine dining china, a variety of elaborate ice-packed serving trays, and tools. Laid over one chair was something made of fine-looking, semi-translucent fabrics.

Alucard had taken hold of your shoulders and was rubbing circles with his thumbs as he leaned down and whispered in his deep, plush voice, "Your clothes must be uncomfortable after such a long day. Perhaps those would be more pleasurable."

The part of you that had developed a million different defense mechanisms to shield the soft, romantic core of your heart almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. What ancient and forgotten wardrobe had he found this--goodness, it was an honest-to-God 1930s peignoir and negligee set--garment in? Some inner voice stopped you though, told you that, strange as it might seem, laughing would deeply wound him.

"Let me change," you said. "It's so thoughtful of you--I am sure it will be so much more comfortable."

You availed yourself of an attached cloakroom and grumbled when you realized how right Alucard was: it felt divine to shuck off your skirt suit. It fit fine, but any outfit with waistbands and buttons and pantyhose was going to feel tiresome after a 12+ hour workday. The cotton of the nightgown was incredibly soft and you actually felt beautiful when you saw how it showed hints of your lingerie underneath and showed off your décolletage. The silk of the robe caressed and soothed in all the ways that nylons never could.

Alucard met you in the doorway, first smothering your hand in kisses, and then once again offering his arm so he could escort you to the table. The candles were lit and the table was set with smoked salmon and a variety of caviars on ice. A flute of champagne was already bubbling away. He pulled out your chair for you and then took a seat to your left. You began plucking plump looking pieces of smoked salmon and digging into the caviar vessels with a spoon (a proper mother-of-pearl spoon, of couse). The grey-golden pearls and the iridescent streaks in the spoon glistened in the candlelight.

It was so good, the contrast of the fatty fish and the salty, briny caviar further cut by the dry, sparkling champagne. The fine, flimsy fabric allowed you to feel the intricate wood carving in the chair, the details in the upholstery's brocade, the depth of the pile of the carpet. This was incredibly relaxing, and you marveled at the vampire's ability to know how badly you had needed this.

Alucard watched you devour the caviar with an inscrutable look. He regarded his own goblet with a bit of resignation. You locked eyes with him and smiled very big to try and convey how appreciative you were.

"Sometimes, I miss the ceremony of feasting."

"Then feast from me."

The declaration surprised you both. "You freely offer this?" he asked. You nodded firmly, adding a verbal, "Yes, I do."

He reached out and took your hand, pulling you across his lap. You presented your neck to him, and here he did not hesitate. You gasped at the intrusion into you neck and whimpered as he drank: it was pain and pleasure and strange euphoria for both of you.

When he lifted his head up and took a deep breath of satisfaction, you lifted your own head up to kiss him, but he gently put a gloved finger to your lips and took a fine linen napkin off the table, blotting the blood that had been trickling down your neck, just before it stained your gown.

As he held the ruined napkin aloft, he chuckled. "Master will be so irritated," he said, boyish amusement in his eyes.

He insisted you eat a bit more to regain some strength and to be sure you were truly sated. When you could eat no more, you stood up and walked to his chair to ask to dance with you, but, as you opened your mouth to ask, you yawned.

He took you in his arms, eyes taking in your breasts, which were pressed into him, before he spoke. "Time to sleep, my dear."

You were about to protest, when you were taken by a sudden swoon of exhaustion. Alucard was staring at you intently.

"You allowed me to drink, and after such a long day, little human. We will dance another time." You opened your mouth again, not wanting this night to end, but he stopped you.

"I said, time to sleep, little human."

You began to drift off as though under a spell, but you knew Alucard was carrying you toward the bedroom where you usually slept when you worked late. In the bedroom, there was a dresser with a great mirror over it across from the bed.

The last thing you saw before you succumbed to slumber was a vision of yourself in the mirror, wrapped in diaphanous ivory, your body limp in the arms of a tall, well-built, dark-haired man who was gently lowering you into a soft bed. You were the Sleeping Beauty of your silliest fantasies that had been stoked by Disney films and fever-dream nineteenth century canvases. You hoped that the smile you felt in your heart had made it to your lips for Alucard to see.

When you awoke the next morning, not to an alarm, but to the gentle glow of the morning sun through the sheer drape, you could see in the giant mirror that your hair was rather attractively messy and the cotton nightgown, whisper-soft against your skin, enveloped you like a cloud. The silk and lace peignoir was arrayed at the foot of the bed as though it were staged for a photoshoot

Alucard had left your keys, pocketbook, and calendar on the nightstand. You used the bookmark to open your datebook, and without thinking, flipped to the next page to see what you had on for today.

You smiled softly and your eyes misted when you saw that today was February 15th.

of all the people, I hoped it'd be you to come and free me, take me away to show me my home where I was born where I belong

Can I also ask for Primo and „whispering in-between kisses“? You know what types of kisses 👀

I know the exact kind of kisses you want. It's time to worship that old man.

What You See I Primo x gn!reader

~ Primo needs you to tell him what you see when you look at him ~

(1800 words, fluff, angst, body worship, some spice, nsfw, 18+ only, not beta read)

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“Amore, what do you see when you look at me?”

You set your brush down onto your vanity and turned sideways in the chair to look at Primo.

“I see someone that was supposed to be dressed ten minutes ago.”

Usually Primo enjoyed your teasing and he often teased you back.  It was an easy banter between two people that had known each other for many years.  Looking at Primo right now though it was clear he was not in a teasing mood.  He sat down heavily on the side of your bed, a long sigh exhaling out of him.

“That is not what I mean.”  There was a tone to his voice you didn’t normally hear and it made you get up to head his way.  You held your bathrobe together and quietly padded over to stand before him.  Primo was staring down at his hands in his lap, wringing them together nervously, so you dropped to your knees and slipped your hands into his to stop the movement.  “Tell me the truth.”

You pulled his hands towards you and placed kisses into each of his palms before looking up at him.  He met your gaze now, his eyes searching yours for an answer.  

“I see the man I’ve admired for many years and loved for many more.”  Primo snorted and pulled his hands away with enough force you fell back on your butt.  “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“That is not what I asked.”  He stood up and then reached down to you, gently grasping your elbows and pulling you to your feet.  You let out another ‘hey’ when he tugged you over to the windows that overlooked his garden.  Primo squeezed your hands and then let go of one to grasp your chin.  “Now, look at me and tell me what you see.”

You pulled away from his hands and then placed yours on his shoulders.  With a firm shove you got him to fall into the chair behind him and climbed after him.  You straddled him, your knees on either side of his legs.  He wouldn’t meet your eyes so you used his own move on him and took a hold of his chin.

“I see someone that is tired from all of his years of working hard for this church.”  His mismatched gaze met yours then and your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.  You leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before moving down to kiss the soft, puffy skin under each eye.  “You never get enough sleep because you’re up too late worrying about your brothers.”

The only answer you got was a soft nod and you smiled at him before kissing the tip of his nose.  Your lips trailed from there to where the skin next to his mouth where he had wrinkles from smiling and then further down to where it had begun to sag.

“My Papa is getting older and his face shows it.  His body shows it.”  You kissed along his chin and then made your way down his neck, whispering into the wrinkled skin there when you stopped again.  “Can I keep going, Papa?  Can I show you what else I see?”

You felt him nod above you so you slipped your hands into his robe and pushed it off his shoulders.  He was bare underneath and you took a moment to admire the body you had been intimately familiar with for many years now.  When you started kissing him again you made your way from his neck across to his shoulder.

“Your skin has seen too much sun, Papa.  Look at all these freckles.”  To illustrate the amount he had you made sure to kiss each one you saw.  You made a mental note to be more forceful with sunscreen next time he went out in his garden.  Down his arm you went, finally holding his hand up between you so you could both look at the rough skin on the back.  A few of his knuckles were misshapen, arthritis having begun to set into his joints many years ago.  “I can tell that these hands have done so much.”

“Like what?”

Primo’s voice was quiet and shaking slightly.  You were afraid to look into his eyes because if you saw tears there you would end up crying too.  He needed you to be strong right now and you refused to let him down.

“Your hands have held onto so many others here, guiding them onto their path within the church…leading them in prayer…pulling them from the lake during their unholy baptism.”  A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.  “I’ve seen this hand slap Secondo on the back of the head when he misbehaved as a child.”

“Or as a grown man.”

It was good to hear Primo laugh and you chanced a look at his face.  His eyes shone with unshed tears and he sniffed when he saw the same in your eyes.  He brought his free hand over and caught one when it started to trail down your cheek.  

“I remember you holding Terzo’s hand when his mother passed away, how you carried him around the garden so he could pick flowers to take to her grave each week.”  You grabbed his other hand when he tried to wipe your tears away again.  “And I remember when you stormed up to Nihil and took Copia from his arms.”

“That old fool wasn’t cut out to be a father.”

“No he wasn’t, but you were.”  You placed his hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forward to place a kiss on his chest over his heart.  His chest hair was more white than blonde now, much like the hair on his head before he had begun to shave it, but it was still soft to the touch.  For a moment you rested your ear against him, listening to his strong heartbeat.  “You’ve been there for all of your brothers and helped them to become the men they are today.”  

He took a deep breath under your ear and you could tell he was trying very hard to control his emotions.  You weren’t done though, because deep down you knew what his biggest worry was when he started this conversation.  Very slowly you turned your head so that your lips were against his skin and you kissed a trail to his nipple.  You flicked your tongue against it before pulling it between your lips and nipping at it softly with your teeth.

“Amore…”

“Hush Papa, I’m not done.”  You moved to his other nipple and gave it the same amount of attention before going lower to where his skin had started to pull down with age.  The wrinkles here were larger, the skin soft and warm against your lips.  Primo jumped when your tongue left a wet trail across his chest.  “When I look at you Primo, when I touch you, I see a man that has aged beautifully.”

Your mouth moved to the center of his chest and you slid off his lap to rest on your knees before him.  The robe was easy to pull off his lap and now he was completely bare before you.  His cock was still soft, but that didn’t surprise you.  It didn’t bother you either.  You placed your hands on his knees and then slid them up his thighs, resting where they met his waist.  Primo abruptly dropped his hands to cover yours and gave them a squeeze.

“Not tonight, I don’t think, amore.  Too much going on in this old head.”

You smiled and moved closer to him, shouldering his legs further apart.  

“It doesn’t make a difference to me either way.  Do you know why?”  Primo shook his head, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp as you leaned forward and started to mouth along his soft cock.  “Because I still see the man I love no matter what is happening here.”

Even soft his cock was long and you took it as deep as you could, the tip reaching well into your mouth.  You tongued the underside, pulling back so you could press it against his slit.  His thighs had begun to shake under your hands and you heard him groan above you.  As you bobbed up and down a few times you let out a little moan when you felt him finally twitch in your mouth.  With a smile you pulled off, a string of saliva lingering from your lips to the tip as you moved away.  Primo pulled a hand out from under yours and rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip, smearing your saliva around.

“Shall I keep going Papa?”  He gave you a quick nod, taking a deep breath as you mouthed along the side of his cock.  It twitched again, slowly filling out as you gave it attention.  You licked the drop of precum that started to leak at the tip and then looked up to see him watching you.  “Will you tell me now?  Will you tell me what you see when you look at me?”

He brought his hands up to cup your face, smiling softly as he pulled you close enough to slip his cock into your mouth once more.

“I see someone that is more beautiful than any flower in my garden.”  Primo grunted as he began to thrust in and out of your mouth, his cock nearly fully hard.  “Someone that has never left my side, that ah!  Cazzo.  Someone that…someone that I love more than anything.”

His moans started to mix with your whimpers as he moved faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust now.  There was so much more you wanted to say.  So much more that he needed to hear but you didn’t want to stop him.  You wanted him to fill your mouth with his cum, you wanted to swallow everything he gave you.  

Primo’s fingers began to dig harder in your hair as his cock started to kick in your mouth.  It wasn’t long before he nearly doubled-over as he came.  Your mouth filled with his release and you did your best to swallow it all, lapping at his cock to clean off what you could.  When he pulled out you kept your lips wrapped around him until you pulled off with a soft pop.  He was looking at you like you were the only other person in his world and you found your eyes filling with tears again when he spoke softly to you.

“In you, amore, I see someone that I will worship until my final days.  If you’ll let me.”

“Forever, Papa.”

He chuckled, wiping the mixture of saliva and his release off your chin before leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“Forever.” 

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