the critically acclaimed open post

[appliances]

assorted shitty people

☆ @ the muselist

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FILTHY THINGS: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I won't rp: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

Comments

[pratfall]

[Hold on, don't go so soon. Trevor can't help but be disappointed when Alucard puts distance between them, even with his hands still firmly planted on his ass. Don't be sour...]

Is this before or after you act like I've never bathed in my life?

[He wants to be ready for it.]

I do, you know. Bathe.

[dhamphirs]

I wouldn't be sitting in your lap if I truly thought you never had.

[It's undeniable that it's been a decent while, though. As much as he . . . very much likes Trevor, and he can admit that much in the safety of his own mind, the man needs a bath.

It's something he's thought about a lot, honestly. If asked, he'll claim it's just because he wants to be rid of that smell-- but honestly, how could anyone resist the thought? Trevor Belmont, stripped out of that ridiculous cloak, all hard muscle and scars, skin slick with water, hair sticking to his neck . . . and then of course Alucard, climbing in atop him, sitting just like this with far less between them.

Yes, he's thought about this a lot. He's honestly half-tempted to drag him to a stream, but the fantasy really only works in a tub full of hot water, so he stays put instead.

But he's going to want to fuck again if he keeps sitting here. With a reluctant sort of sigh he twitches his hips, a nonverbal little indication for Trevor to release him that, coincidentally, sort of pushes his ass back up into his hand.]

Go dream of my fingers in your hair, Belmont.

[He flashes him a grin. He quite likes saying double-entendres, thanks. But before Trevor can sulk, she leans in, kissing his cheek. It's almost sweet; it's also immediately followed by him rapidly standing, heading for his spot by the wagon.]