#armand smut

[zaldritzosrose]

Insatiable (Armand x Fem Vamp!Reader)

Summary: Escape. That's what he craved. Somewhere away from everything. Instinct had brought him to the club, not his usual scene. But it was you that kept him there. You were the escape he needed. Feeding desires he didn't know he had. And satisfying cravings he didn't know needed satiating.

This was originally meant to come under @lady-phasma's Fangtober Celebration but I got a little sidetracked (using the prompts exhibitionism, overstimulation (sort of) and blood).

CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of vampiric feeding, mentions of blood, mutual feeding, mentions of clubbing, (slight) mentions of sex work, exhibitionism, little bit of overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), dry humping, blood play, p in v sex, (slight) rough sex, public sex.

Words: 4260

Please enjoy my dive into a new fandom!

The music thudded low through the club as Armand entered. It wasn’t his usual choice of evening activity, but something drew him in. His feet took him out of the apartment and into the city. 

He’d wandered aimlessly to begin with. Simply wanting to be away. But before he knew it, he was at the doorway, illuminated by the sign above.

And then he was walking in. Armand barely noticed the stamp to his hand, marking his patronage. He barely noticed the bodies he had to wade through to make it anywhere close to the main floor.

He was almost working automatically. Mind completely detached from his body.

If he’d been paying more attention, he’d have noticed the decided lack of mortal pulses.

But you saw him. 

You were on stage, black lace forming perfectly to the swells and dips of your body. The music almost ran through your veins, your body moving of its own accord. 

Your mind was entirely focused on him.

Ink black curls, blending into the all-black outfit he wore. There was just something about him that you couldn’t take your eyes away from.

And then he looked at you. He was at the bar now, drink in hand. 

Even in the low light, the amber shade of his eyes was clear. As you imagined the preternatural shade of your own eyes was clear too. The customers in front of you faded to nothing. 

All you saw was him.

And all he did was stare.

Armand could feel the other vampires, though their existence wasn’t his main priority. Nor was the coppery scent of blood coming from behind the bar. He wasn’t surprised such a place existed, some of his kin were far more frivolous with hiding what they were than he was.

Including you, it seemed. 

The men in front of you were without a doubt human. He could hear the blood rushing through their veins, all with the same destination at the mere sight of you. Armand wasn’t faring much better, though he hid it well.

Watching your body sway to the music, he allowed his gaze to wander shamelessly over you. 

And then he noticed, your eyes never left him. No matter what you did, you looked right back at him. 

The song ended and he followed your retreating form. Disappearing seamlessly into the crowd before he knew it.

But Armand could feel you, the siren call of your mind.

“Come find me…”

He knew it wasn’t necessarily the right choice. He was only out tonight because he was upset, angry…any and all words that could describe his state of mind. None of them good. 

But you were somehow cutting through it all. Taking the threads of his thoughts and tugging at them until he could only focus on you. And just like his walk here, his feet worked on their own accord, following the call of your mind.

You had disappeared into another room, similar to the last but with fewer seats around the podium. There were a few patrons within, and Armand didn’t hesitate in taking the free seat in a secluded corner of the room. 

He could hear you, the faint thrum of your thoughts becoming more familiar by the second.

And then he saw you again. The black lace switched out for a deep red dress, far too similar to blood to be accidental. The silk skimming your thighs, barely covering the shape of your body.

There was something different about this room. The sound of the main club could be heard just through the arched door, muffled by the heavy red drapes. But the energy was different. It was clear the other patrons were not human now, no rapid pulses to be heard anymore.

Was this a room purely for his kind? Or was it nothing more than coincidence?

The darkened glass that had appeared before him answered his question. There was no doubt that it was not wine inside. Armand swilled the liquid in the glass, head tilted like a sommelier inspecting a vintage. 

The music spilled through the speakers slowly, and again you moved fluidly to the sound as though you were one with the music.

“Is it to your liking?”

Armand’s lips twitched at the corners at the sound of your voice, slipping into his mind so easily. Part of him wondered if it sounded just as sultry when you spoke aloud.

“I think you know the answer to that. Do you choose all your patrons’ beverages?”

He sipped the blood with a satisfied sigh. He wasn’t in dire need of feeding, per se, but he’d never pass on it when offered.

The song changed to a faster beat, and you danced seamlessly. 

“Only for those I find interesting.”

Interesting? You found him interesting. It wasn’t a word many threw in his direction. But it brought a surprising warmth to his chest.

His eyes finally turned back to you, following the undulations of your body to the music.

“Interesting? What about me is interesting?”

Armand could see you smile, eyes meeting his for just a moment.

“Now that would be telling.”

His glass soon emptied, and the waiter quickly refilled it. 

What kind of club was this? And how had he never known of its existence before now?

“I can tell you’re curious. About me. About the club. About where the blood in that glass comes from.”

Your voice was both a mixture of seduction and boredom. Drawing him in whilst showing your disinterest in such boring questions.

Armand raised a brow.

“I am curious about many things, but those are certainly at the forefront.”

He could hear your soft giggle as the music changed, volume dipping for just a moment. Two more dancers joined the stage, allowing you to move closer to where Armand sat. For the first time, you were quite thankful for the circular shape of the stage.

There was still a little distance between you, but you hadn’t expected what a marvel it would be to see him up close. The light hitting his eyes and making them almost glow. The permanent smirk that only widened as you crouched down before him.

“Are you curious still?” 

Armand had been right. Your voice was just as tantalizing aloud, cutting through the music just for him. Your finger circled the rim of his glass, picking up the small drops of blood that had been left behind and bringing them to your lips.

It was like everything you did was designed to entice and torture in equal measure. Armand could hardly imagine how humans fared against you.

“Hmm, there is that saying. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”

You smiled, dropping to your knees now as the music changed. The song had switched back to a slower tempo and Armand couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from how your body moved. Almost like water, a snake even. 

It was almost hypnotising.

His head moved every time you turned. Your sole focus was now on him. This wasn’t a strip club, you danced only because you enjoyed it. But something about Armand had you wanting to pay special attention to him.

“And how can I…satisfy you?”

The waiter continued to fill his glass. Between you and the deep red liquid, Armand had no intention of moving from his seat any time soon.

You rolled to your back, arching with your head draped back over the edge of the stage. Looking directly at Armand, body continuing to move to the music.

Armand smiled, bringing the glass to his lips and watching your eyes follow it. With little thought, he brought the glass to hover over your face. Instinctively, you opened your mouth, tongue rolling out.

With precise movements, Armand let the glass tilt. Droplets of blood hitting your tongue before he tilted the glass back.

“Your company is satisfying enough,” he purred, draining the glass of the remaining blood.

Your smile was genuine, making the corners of your eyes crinkle just a little. You took a quick glance around the room, the other patrons were occupied, and you had quite a lot of freedom as a dancer to start and end your performances as you pleased.

The song ended and you saw the flash of surprise in Armand’s eyes when you hopped off the stage.

“Then let me continue to satisfy you…” you ended the sentence as though it were a question and Armand realised what you wanted.

His name.

“Armand. You may call me Armand.”

You answered with your own name and Armand half expected you to join him at his table. But you smiled, disappearing quickly behind another curtain and returning only moments later. He could see the red lace of your dress still, peeking out from the burgundy leather skirt you had slipped over the top.

He chuckled to himself. Your outfit was no less revealing now than it was before, but it was almost like you were leaving the dancer behind and simply being you. As though the performer on stage was no more than a character.

Armand could feel you behind him, the scent of your perfume almost sickeningly sweet in his nostrils. Your nose brushing barely against the shell of his ear.

“I am all yours now, Armand.”

His name had never sounded sweeter, your words dripping into his ear like honey. The implication of what you said had his mind whirring. His foot pushed the seat out beside him, silently offering it to you.

As you sat, the same waiter as before set another sanguine glass in front of you. But your focus remained on Armand.

Your hand moved almost inches from where his rested on the table, watching him the entire time to gauge his reaction. And when he didn’t move, you continued. Perfectly manicured nails ghosting over the skin of the back of his hand.

“Now you can sate your curiosity, uninterrupted.”

Armand watched your finger trace his hand, mapping out every dip and ridge under his skin. If you had taken a peek, you would have seen the questions racing through his mind, unsure which to ask first. But when his gaze met yours, you knew he’d chosen.

“I want to know you. You offer me your company, but you don’t know me.”

You clicked your tongue a little at his answer but smiled anyway.

“Do we need to know each other?”

Everything about you was a mystery, every answer you gave only offered Armand more questions. You truly were fascinating. A puzzle he was determined to solve.

But you could see it was a genuine concern. Well, maybe concern was not the right word, but it clearly put him on edge. 

You were taking away his control, something you had noticed he held tight to from the moment he’d entered the club. He was calculated in everything he did, and you were an obstacle he simply couldn’t manoeuvre.

Your finger trailed down to his wrist, gently flipping it over and circling his vein.

“But if you truly wish to know me, ask me something.”

The tension between you was palpable, almost buzzing in the air. Both of you torn between delving into the other’s psyche and tearing each other’s clothes off.

Armand thought for only a moment. You had a point, he didn’t need to know you. He didn’t need to know the inner workings of who you were, he didn’t need to know your past. His true curiosity lay with your interest in him.

“Do you offer all your patrons company?”

The question could be answered in so many ways, but there was an insecurity in how he spoke. Like he needed to know.

“I don’t. I pay attention to them when I dance, but nothing like I have for you.”

You could almost see him relax. It was like there were two masks he wore, the calm, calculated man and the fragile, desperate boy.

What you saw now, was somewhere between. The real Armand, you guessed.

“Then why me?”

His own hand now wrapped around your wrist, pulling you and the chair closer. Not an inch between the two seats anymore. Your hand was brought to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss before trailing down to your wrist.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you heard him inhale.

“Like I said, you’re interesting. And nothing like my usual admirers.”

Armand wasn’t the first customer to stare so intently, but he was the first to have caught your attention back. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it. But there was a pull, deep down, a primal urge to get closer.

You could barely hold back your sigh when his teeth nipped at the skin of your arm, not sinking in but the feeling sent a surge of heat down your spine.

“Interesting. Shall I show you how interesting I can be?”

Flashes of his thoughts entered your mind, teases of all the things he wanted to do to you.

Your teeth nibbled at your lip at the promise.

You stood fluidly, lacing your fingers together and tugging him away.

“How can I say no to that?”

Armand followed without question. You were intriguing, a welcome distraction from the maelstrom of emotion that was his life. Back through the crowd and into some more secluded corners, shielded from prying eyes with more heavy drapes.

The sofas inside were of the same deep red fabric as everything else in the club. And Armand didn’t resist when you urged him towards one of those couches, leaning himself back with his arms spread against the backrest.

You turned to close the drapes entirely, when Armand stopped you.

“Leave them, if you want,” he said softly, gesturing towards the drapes.

Your back remained turned as your teeth tugged at your lip, a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth. 

“An exhibitionist then?”

You glanced around before leaving a gap in the velvet, just enough that if anyone paid attention, they’d be able to see right in.

You heard Armand chuckle, giving you all the answer you needed. 

Your walk was slow, purposeful, as you returned to him. Standing between his spread legs with your head tilted. You watched as his eyes trailed from your feet all the way up, though he stopped at your throat. Lingering perfectly over where your pulse would be.

With a smirk, you knelt down in front of him, watching as his breath just a little as your hand rested on his thigh, squeezing just a little.

“Want a taste?”

Your free hand raised in front of his hand, holding out the same wrist he had held at the table. Armand huffed out, reaching out and bringing your wrist back to his lips.

This time, though, he sunk his teeth right in. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t mind. And the rush through your veins had you clenching your thighs together. A soft moan slipping from your lips as he only pulled you closer.

You barely noticed that Armand was offering you his own arm, until his fingers tapped at your chin. 

“Share and share alike…”

Armand’s voice slithered into your mind, making you sigh even deeper in pleasure.

There was no hesitation, leaning down and sinking your own fangs into his honeyed skin. Your moan of satisfaction vibrating through his body and you were sure you felt Armand growl against your own wrist.

Armand was the first to let go, the remains of your blood on his chin but he made no move to clean himself. His tongue laved over your wrist as he finished, drinking down anything that continued to spill.

You were so focused on the sweet taste of him on your tongue, that you barely noticed Armand lifting you into his lap. So smooth, his wrist remained latched between your teeth.

The new position gave him freedom to grind against you. One arm around your waist as he slowly rolled his hips. The tension, the teasing, the feeling of your teeth in his wrist all combined to make him almost dizzy with pleasure.

You were just as messy when you pulled away. His blood dripping down your chin and onto your chest. There was no hesitation as your lips crashed together.

Sense had been overtaken by lust.

Your own hips began to roll down against his. Skirt pushed higher over your thighs with every movement you made. Armand’s free hand moved up the expanse of one and round to the flesh of your backside, urging you to move faster and faster.

Neither of you held back the sounds that slipped past your lips. Most sounds swallowed as your lips came together in a clash of tongues and teeth. The mixed flavours of your combined blood only adding more to the haze of desire.

You could hear people passing the room, but neither of you cared. It certainly wasn’t the most depraved thing to have ever happened within these walls.

Armand’s lips moved down your jaw and to your neck, leaving bloodied kisses in his wake before sinking into the juncture with a groan.

Your hand tangled into his hair, holding him tight to your body as you felt your release crash over you, chanting his name as you continued to roll less rhythmically against him. You could feel his length twitching beneath you, the hand on your rear squeezing and pulling you down harder against him.

You had barely come down from your high when you were on your back. Skirt tugged down your body,  legs spreading instinctively as Armand pressed kisses to your thighs.

“I wonder if you taste as good down here…”

The shredding of lace was a welcome sound, you could easily replace it. Armand’s hands gripped your thighs tight, teeth nipping your skin only to soothe every bite with a kiss.

Your hand tangled into his hair, urging him to where you wanted him the most, despite the way your core still pulsed from your last release.

Not trusting your voice, your words slipped into his mind.

“How will you know how I taste…if you don’t hurry up?”

His tongue was slow, teasing, at first. Swiping up and down until you pulled harder on his curls. You could feel his smirk against your skin, but he didn’t take the warning. Slender fingers parted your folds, tongue now circling your bud purposefully slow.

Armand’s nails dug into your skin, partly teasing and partly a warning. But it only spurred you on. Your own nails digging deeper into his curls, scraping against his scalp.

Two could play at that game.

With a swift movement, Armand had your legs slung over his shoulders. Nails gripping the flesh to hold you tight against his face. The curve of his nose rubbing perfectly against your pearl, but you bit down hard on your lip to hold back a moan. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction that quickly.

His tongue delved back in quickly, switching completely and devouring everything you had to offer. Eyes locked on yours, waiting for you to break.

But you were a stubborn creature, it seemed.

Armand was relentless. A mix of tongue, teeth and lips, and before long two fingers joined them.

“Come on…I can feel you quivering already…” he murmured, swirling his tongue over your bud as his fingers began to piston in and out of you.

One orgasm quickly became two. And you were bordering on the third almost immediately. Vampire or no, pleasure was pleasure. And it seemed Armand was intent on tearing you apart, delicious piece by delicious piece.

But you still weren’t going to let him break you that easily.

A firmer hand pushed him back, the same hand now holding him down on his back. You could see just a little flicker behind his eyes, a glimmer of submission. 

You crawled up his body, letting Armand feel every little movement. Pressing kisses over each bit of skin you began to reveal as he helped you remove his shirt.

Your cunt pulsed at you settled over his stomach, thankful the velvet couches were just a little bit wider than average. Purposeful, of course.

Armand was quick to bring your lips to his, sitting up to throw his shirt out of the way. The torn lace bodysuit was the next to follow, joining the haphazard pile of clothes on the floor. Bare chests now pressed together as a battle for dominance was fought in the kisses.

You could feel Armand shifting to remove his trousers. Your hips lifting as he shimmied them down his legs. Not a single article of clothing lay between you now.

Armand groaned at the feel your bare core against his length, hips rutting instinctively. But you had a little plan for revenge…

You pushed him back down, turning in his lap until your back faced him. And you could barely stifle your shiver as his nails trailed a line down your spine. Head falling back as he continued to trace patterns on your skin. For just a moment, you could pretend you hadn’t been strangers up until only a couple of hours ago.

But desire still coursed through both of your veins.

Your body tilted forward, hands running down the length of his thighs as you felt the muscles of his stomach tighten in anticipation.

And the gasp as your mouth wrapped around his cock was all the satisfaction you needed.

You got your revenge with your own slow pace. Swallowing him down and retreating. Again, and again until his nails began to dig into your back. Moving down to the flesh your backside and squeezing. The groan that left your lips vibrating through his length.

“Payback, hmm?” Armand chuckled, words falling to his own moan as his tip hit the back of your throat.

His hands gripped your hips, tugging you up to hover over his face as he began to lap at your cunt.

It was like a competition, racing to bring the other to completion first. Moans, grunts and growls reverberating throughout the room combined with the wet sounds of lips and tongues.

Your two orgasms became three, nails scratching at his thighs as you spilled over his tongue. But Armand didn’t stop and neither did you. There was much to be said for the use of vampiric stamina, and this was certainly an exciting use for it. 

It wasn’t long before Armand pulsed on your tongue, salty precum a welcome appetiser for what soon followed. Spurt after spurt filling your mouth as you swallowed everything you could with moans of satisfaction. He slipped from your lips, your forehead resting against his thigh.

But when he dared to try and pull a fourth orgasm from you, your teeth sunk into the meat of his leg, not to feed. Simply as a warning.

You could see the passing shapes of other patrons beyond the curtains, some even peeking in. And you knew Armand could see it too. The prospect of an audience giving you both a bite of confidence.

Your tongue lapped at the blood that trickled from his thigh before Armand’s hand found your back, making patterns again as your hand palmed over his already semi-hardened cock. You sat back up, hand continuing to move.

“Do you need more, hmm? Or have I satisfied your curiosity?” you teased, Armand’s hand reaching up to toy with your hair.

Your head dropped back, letting him tangle hard into your locks.

“I fear I may never be satisfied, but we can continue to try?”

You had awoken something in Armand, his free hand urging you to turn and settle over his cock.

“Then we will try, and try…” 

The hand wrapped in your hair kept you still as he sunk you down onto his cock. A hand on your thigh as you began to slide your soaked walls over his length.

The pace was slower now. Savouring the feel of him sunk deep inside you. Armand’s hand moving from your hair to your breast. Kneading the soft flesh in his hand in time with your hips.

“For someone so sinful, you feel heavenly.” Armand groaned, hips rising to meet yours.

The combined sounds of pleasure echoed in the room, no one outside could doubt what was happening. Armand’s eyes flitted over to the drapes, telekinetically moving the curtain just a little wider.

You were a show worthy of an audience. And he was more than prepared to make it a show worth watching.

Your hips moved faster as pleasure began to overtake you, hands planted on his chest as he took control of the pace. Slamming his hips up into yours until you were chanting his name.

“So beautiful…” 

Armand’s words fell to growls as he thrust up a few more times until he painted your walls with his spend. Hands holding your hips tight and holding you down on his cock until he was fully spent.

The exertion overtook you both, Armand more than happy to let you plant your body weight atop him as you relaxed.

His hands ran up and down your back, your lips pressing lazy kisses to his throat and jaw.

No words needed to be exchanged anymore. Not aloud anyway.

“Still curious?” you asked, even your mind’s voice sounded tired.

“I will always be curious about you.” He replied, holding you tighter to his chest. 

You really had woken something in him. An escape. A sense of both control and submission. 

Freedom.

Armand Taglist:

@lady-phasma @sylasthegrim @anjelicawrites

(If anyone wishes to be added, please let me know!)

[lockedtogetherinhatred]

(is no one else frothing at the mouth for armandxreader content?…)

[cosmixstar]

The lack of Armand x reader and Louis du Pointe du Lac x reader is killing me daily...

[s0u1-su3k3r]

The lack of Armand x reader stuff kills me everyday.

[thecovenleader]

No one can convince me that Armand isn't a sub, that bullshit Louise be telling himself about him toping Lestat is just pure nonsense

[stvolanis]

the taste of metal traced his tongue that danced between your thighs. The graze of his sharpened teeth pricking at the flesh of your skin. The fanning of his breath sending a chill down your spine as he drew closer to your core, where you needed him most. A desperate craving to feel any part of him, in fear you might never again. His fangs that sank into your thighs, marking you for anyone else who dared get close enough to see.

“No one will ever have you like I do.” He whispered, his voice eerily calm considering the vile things he was doing to you. Your panties pushed to the side, a wet tongue pressed to your clit, making you jolt from the sudden pressure. Your hand found his hair, gripping it rather harshly. Any mortal would have wept, but Armand was no mortal. No silly boy playing around with a lack of experience. No, he was a man who had been alive 514 exhausting years, the least he could do is learn how to properly please a woman.

It was a game he played. He always won. You liked to tell yourself it’s because you let him, but you knew better. Like prey being hunted, every time you grasped your freedom, Armand would find you. Claw you back in, and leave you little room to escape. A game of cat and mouse, that usually ended with you in the same coffin as him. You couldn’t think straight, not with his voice filling your head even as he ate you out like blood was nothing compared to your juices.

“Foolish girl. Ungrateful for the dark gift given to you. Eating mice and goats, rather than humans. Have you any idea how hard of a task it was to not drain you dry when I turned you?” His voice echoed in your head like an unwanted siren. “Get out. Out of my head, maitre.” You shook your head back and forth at the overwhelming pleasure as his fingers prodded your entrance. “I made you. Don’t forget that. So silence, so I can do as I please with you, fledgling.”

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @luxuriouslokistan-3 @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @peterpan-neverfails-blog @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @theoraeken

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

[bunniandhoney]

Whatever She Wants

jacob’s girl= ms. whatever she wants mdni. 18+

“If I have to say it again we’re done.”

Terror. It flashes across her face, he can see it as their eyes meet in the mirror.

“Open your damn legs, Y/N” he gruffs hands never moving from her center. His fingers still on the outside of her panties. They’ve been at this for at least an hour, this teasing, this torture. All because she has to do everything the hard way. YN knows asking for a little attention would’ve been easier than flirting with the bartender of tonight’s premiere party but then she’d miss out on so much.

She’d have missed the tight grip he had on her arm as he led her to the bar's bathroom. She’d have missed the way he bent her over the sink without locking the door, the harsh swift spanks to her ass as he told her how much of a “needy slut” she was, and lastly she’d have missed this.

How Jacob has her set in front of the mirror legs spread as he slowly rubs her center over her panties. He has every little bit of control over her right now, so all she can do is nod and whisper a pitiful apology as she spreads her legs back open.

“See, you do know how to be good for me.”

“Please baby, I need it. “ YN urges.

“You needed to fucking behave in the bar, so now you’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful.” Jacob says, looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes.

He starts rubbing her clit outside of her panties again. They’re soaked, sticky against her lips, so much so that he might as well as take them off of her. She needs that, needs to feel his calloused fingertips circling her swollen pussy. Tipping her head back against his shoulder she spreads her legs wider begging him for more. Jacob’s not ready to stop playing yet though, he knows he can break her down more, turn her back into the good girl he knows she is.

tap. tap. tap.

Quick and harsh are the three slaps against YN’s pussy and that does it. The force shocks her and without thinking the insides of her knees meet, legs closed tight. He waits a moment to register that YN really disobeyed him again, and didn't listen to the one thing he asked of her. His anger is causing blood to rush to his ears, softening her pleas and her accusatory apology of “I’m sorry baby, but you slapped me too hard and I was sensitive.” That snaps him out of his trance, “So now it's my fault you can’t follow simple instructions.”

YN is certain she’s fucked up now. This was all suppose to end with her in the most blissful state, subdued in her bed after a good rough fuck. Now, she thinks Jacob might have actually been mad at her.

He stands to his feet, still fully clothed in his outfit from tonight’s event from the wife beater and blue jeans to the dark brown boots. Jacob can’t get up empty handed, no he rises with a handful of her hair, pulling her head back to force her eyes to stare directly into his. “You clearly are too much of a slut to follow instructions, so make me feel better baby. I know you can do that.” YN gets to work determined to fix this situation, to prove to her boyfriend that she is the good girl he knows she can be.

Jacob is thick and heavy in her hands once she gets his pants off, Precum dripping from his dick. YN needs a taste now, ready to put her mouth on him. She hears Jacob clear his throat, and when her eyes look up at him, he’s scowling down at her then at the hands wrapped around his dick.

Oh…he really does plan on being mean tonight.

YN removes her hands and lets them rest by her side. Still silent, Jacob's hand leads her mouth to his hard member, and as soon as her warm mouth touches his tip he’s merciless.

Pushing her head all the way down to the curls at the base of his dick, YN can’t help but gag. “Fuck, you always make feel good with that pretty little mouth.” That’s all she needed, the hand on the back of her head is useless, YN is moving her head on her own forcing herself to take every last inch. She’s completely committed to having him stay in her throat for as long as possible, Jacob has other plans.

“Don’t you make me cum yet, you don’t deserve it in your mouth.”

Her fire is back, being the good girl never gets her what she needs with him. She starts bobbing her head faster, taking deep breaths through her nose, drool slipping past the corners of her mouth. Jacob is “trying” to pull her head off of him, but god it’s too good. Now he’s begging,” Baby please, I want to come in your pussy. Shit, you gotta let up.”

A proud and satisfied YN pulls off of him, panting trying to catch her breath. Jacob is pulling her up to her feet putting her arms around his neck, “Jump for me love”. Catching her legs in his arms he leads them both to the bed. He lays her down gently, removing her legs from his waist. YN nuzzles into the hand that he softly rests on his face; the hand slides down till it reaches her waist then he flips her over to her stomach. Already moving to arch her back YN knows she’s finally getting what she wants, “Always too eager, let’s get the panties off first” Jacob says, ripping them down her legs. He spreads her legs, dipping a finger into her center. “Fuck you’re still so wet” he breathes. Yn turns her head to watch him, “Please baby I need you so bad” This shakes Jacob because even while YN has been a thorn in his side all evening he can’t help but want to give in, give her whatever she wants.

“Fine, you can stop the whining,” he says, pulling out his finger. “You knew I was gonna make you cum anyway, spoiled brat” Jacob grumbles pulling her hips up to meet his pelvis. Grabbing his dick he rubs it in between her pussy lips while she rocks back towards him, hoping to get some sort of relief.

He finally pushes in, eyes rolling back as he slowly bottoms out. She’s sucking him in so good he’s losing it already, hand resting in between her shoulder blades Jacob pushes YN right into the mattress. His other hand keeping her hips up because there is now way she could do it at the pace he’s fucking her.

Strangled noises leave her as she grips the sheets, trying to hold on to any bit of reality. Jacob’s not having it, he drags her hips closer making sure she gets every last inch of him. “F-fuck baby you’re sucking me in so good.” He releases her hips and she falls limp against the bed. Reaching to intertwine their fingers Jacob covers her whole body, overwhelming her.

“Give it to me baby, I feel it, you’re clenching my dick so fucking goood!”

“Ngh, fuck J! Kiss me baby please, please!” YN whines. Grabbing her jaw he pushes their mouths together swallowing every sound that dares to leave her mouth. His thrusts become frantic against her; YN feels that fire pooling in her abdomen. Jacob uses his other hand to slide under her, harshly circling her clit.

YN’s vision suddenly goes black, that fire spreading all over her body. Jacob refuses to let up, plunging his dick in her as she rides out her orgasm. His orgasm sneaks up on him forcing him to press her deeper into the mattress, letting her still-clenching cunt milk every last drop of cum out of him.

With a grunt Jacob pulls himself up. “Holy fuck, baby you’re still shaking.” he laughs pulling at her cheek to see his cum spilling out. Pulling out all the way his cum drips onto the sheets and Jacob can’t help but grin as he sees the love of his life fast asleep with a bratty smirk on her face.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

fic number two, if you can believe it!!! thanks to everyone for the love on my first fic, y’all sure do know how to make an old girl smile😁.

also my lovely anons who submitted some requests your are not forgotten, I am def working on those, just need to put this out since it was in the drafts. to everyone else pls send in some requests, I have a few tropes in mind but i’d love to see what y’all want.

lastly please leave me some feedback, i’m really looking to grow as a writer and could use the critiques.

[taste-ze-rainbow]

nsfw interview with the vampire thought 🤔 (x reader)

armand is the kind of fuck who kisses your neck with hunger and softness while absolutely rage fucking your pretty hole

i said what i said

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

In honor of Lestat de Lioncourt's 264th birthday, I present to you...

Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot

Part I (of IV)

Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You

Word count: 3,900+

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.

Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.

Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.

Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend Riley for their contribution and ideas!

Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)

_________________________________________

It was a cool autumn night in Paris, and while mortals slept, the undead were busy welcoming their newest member to their coven inside the old auditorium. The Vampire Armand stood proudly in front of the stage, looking up at the Theatre’s founder and poster child Lestat de Lioncourt, giving him notes and stage directions he knows full well Lestat will not listen to. Next to Lestat was Y/F/N Y/L/N, a freshly turned vampire herself.

Today was Y/N’s audition to join the Theatre des Vampires, and although nervous, she felt at home already among the other thespians in the room with her. With her lifelong love of theatre and literature that only intensified in her newly immortal life, Y/N knew she was in good company. She caught herself stealing glances at Lestat, as if against her will, but she knew she couldn’t help herself. Of all the vampires in this room—the stage director and Coven leader Armand, fellow company members Eglee, Celeste, Estelle, Sam, Gustav, and Quang Pham in the seats, as well as the gifted violinist Nicki hiding in the wings—there is something captivating and enchanting about this charismatic blonde actor. Y/N felt immediately attracted to this man, and she was both alarmed by and pleased with this sudden revelation. Lestat could feel Y/N’s attraction to him, something he found adorable, endearing, distracting, and quite arousing. Lestat gazed at her, a charmingly wicked smile on his face as he admired the young vampire in front of him. Armand, annoyed but pushing the uneasy feeling down, turned to look at Y/N.

“Welcome to the Theatre, dear Y/N. The Coven and I are interested as to how you found yourself in Paris, and how you found us. Please, enlighten everyone,” Armand said, with a slight air of both curiosity and mild arrogance rolled together. Y/N quickly moved her glance from Lestat to Armand and shivered slightly before she answered.

“Hello all, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I was visiting when I was given the Dark Gift. I have been in Paris ever since. I heard about the Theatre through my maker, and through discovering the Theatre, I found out about the Coven.” As she told the truth, she felt Santiago staring daggers at her, full of amusement.

“So, little miss Y/L/N, it seems as though you enjoy the arts, is that right?” said Santiago, with a slithery snark. Y/N nodded her head. “A birdie told me that you’re auditioning with one of Shakespeare’s lesser works, yes?” Y/N nodded again. Lestat’s blueish violet eyes widened as he grinned a little bigger.

“Yes, I will be reading as Rosalind disguised as Ganymede. I hope you find it suitable,” she said politely, trying to stifle a small tinge of laughter. Santiago exaggerated his giggle to mock her slightly before speaking again.

“Hmm, I assume you would like to have someone read with you. I wonder who that could be…” Santiago’s voice trailed off as he shifted his glance from Y/N to the left of her.

The slender, blonde, and devilishly handsome vampire beside Y/N spoke before she could even have the thought to respond. Watching from the wings, the violinist Nicki put a hand to his forehead with a quiet groan.

“I volunteer myself. I know the play by heart,” said Lestat. He shot Y/N a soft but sly grin as he placed his hand on his chest, reeling in the blush that appeared on her face. Armand had to hold back a scoff as Lestat offered to read with her. “I’m quite curious to see how she does, if I may.” Lestat gently bowed as he spoke to her, with a smile on his face and intrigue in his heart. Lestat was many things, and subtle was not one of them. Y/N nodded, smiling slyly back at him.

“You may,” Y/N said, bowing slightly. Her cheeks cast a rosy glow upon them as she smiled. Santiago chuckled to himself, and Armand choked down another scoff as he looked back to Y/N and Lestat.

“As you wish. Lestat, you will read with Y/N as Orlando, starting from his entrance after Jaques exits the scene. Y/N, you will follow.” Armand crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the two vampires in front of him on the stage.

“Yes, maître,” said Y/N, slightly nervous but strangely excited about reading alongside this hauntingly tempting creature next to her. She got herself into character quickly, trying to fight off the thought of how sweet Lestat’s blood might taste on her tongue and how soft his full lips must be, among various other salacious and primal things that she wasn’t aware of that she needed or wanted. It wasn’t an unwelcome thing—Lestat had something disarmingly attractive about him. Y/N felt drawn to him somehow, but she tried in vain to hide it. Lestat cleared his throat and prepared himself as well, his own pale skin turning a faint pink as they moved to the middle of the stage. Butterflies fluttered inside their bodies as they began their scene. After a few seconds of silence passed, Lestat launched into character.

“My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.” Lestat said, remembering the lines from memory as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Despite her nervousness and giddiness, Y/N began herself.

“Break an hour’s promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ th’ shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.” Y/N matched Lestat’s intensity and focus as she spoke her lines. Astonished by her delivery, he carried on with his own lines.

“Pardon me, dear Rosalind,” continued Lestat, feeling a rush of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach, the pleasant sensation only growing stronger as she went on. Lestat watched her as she moved effortlessly through her audition, overcome with awe, very nearly stumbling on his own lines as a result. Armand and Santiago watched from the bottom of the stage as Y/N and Lestat kept going.

Armand watched from the front row and noticed Lestat’s immediate and oddly natural chemistry with Y/N and was well aware of the subtle attraction and quiet infatuation she felt towards Lestat. Armand could feel it through her, and it bothered him. He couldn’t help it; he began to feel his face turn green with envy. Santiago, however, was greatly amused at what was unfolding in front of them—and he relished the drama of it all. The rest of the Coven watched from the seats intently, some engrossed, some unbothered. Nicki leaned up against the wall backstage, a pained expression etched on his features. Looking on at his former lover floating across the stage with a woman whom he had only met mere hours ago and watching her fall under his spell just as he had, Nicki shook his head, a grimace forming on his face.

With all due respect, maître…maybe we should keep an eye on the new one, said Santiago, filling Armand’s head with his thoughts without moving his mouth. It’s only a matter of time before our dear founder tries to take her to bed with him…you know as well as I do how he is. And seeing how she’s looking at him—Armand did not want to hear this. Lestat and Y/N were too immersed in their scene and lost in each other to hear them through their own minds.

Armand cut him off. Enough, Santiago. I know very well how Lestat operates. Let them finish. I’ll allow Y/N to continue, for now. We shall decide what measures to take when the time is right… As Armand and Santiago sized Y/N up, she breezed through her audition.

“Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now an I were your very, very Rosalind?” Y/N continued as she blushed and smiled at Lestat. Anything he did in his impromptu performance, she followed with masterful skill.

Lestat slowly walked closer to her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Lestat looked at Y/N, smirking as he brushed some of his long blonde hair behind his ear. He let the silence expand for a second before he continued.

“I would kiss before I spoke.”

Lestat and Y/N gazed at each other as if they were the only beings in the room, amusing Santiago morbidly and annoying Armand profoundly. A mixture of admiration and a deep hunger formed inside Lestat’s chest, and Y/N’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She gulped quietly as she tried to keep up with Lestat. Determined to give the best audition she could despite having to act opposite the most gorgeous creature she has ever laid her eyes on, alive or dead, Y/N tried to fight off her own desire building within her. Soft gasps could be heard from the other vampires watching them from the seats.

“Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking—God warn us—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.”

Sensing Y/N’s struggle to maintain her composure, Lestat met her energy with his own words. “How if the kiss be denied?” He looked at her for a beat, cocking his head to one side quizzically. Y/N answered him with a playful shrug.

“Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.”

Lestat continued his teasing, delighted by the thrill Y/N gave him. “Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?”

Y/N pretended to scoff. “Marry, that should you if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.”

Lestat looked at Y/N with a look of mock surprise. “What, of my suit?” he said, his voice harboring a more sensual tone this time.

“Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am I not your Rosalind?” Y/N floated across the stage like a ghost, every single movement calculated and carried out so smoothly.

“I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.” Lestat’s face reddened slightly as he noticed how Y/N’s jaw dropped, but only for a second before she kept going.

“Well, in her person I say I will not have you.” Y/N let out an exaggerated giggle as she playfully spun around slowly.

A dramatic sigh escaped Lestat’s lungs. “Then in mine own person I die.” He looked back at Y/N as she turned to face him again.

“By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it.” Y/N gazed at the vampire in front of her, only inches separating them now. Lestat reached out to gently caress Y/N’s cheek as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes, making her blush even more obvious in her face now. He has her right where he wants her, and as fate or some other mystical thing would have it, Y/N is right where she wants to be. Once again, Lestat drew the silence out for a beat too long before he spoke.

“Then love me, Rosalind.”

Y/N’s voice trembled a little as she leaned into Lestat’s touch. His unbroken focus on her made her feel slightly faint just from the way he looked at her, but she kept her cool as best as she could. “Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.” She shyly smiled up at him, trying and failing to hide her quiet swooning.

Lestat hung on to every word that left her lips as if he had never heard such language spoken before. Of course, he was no stranger to the stage himself, having been the Theatre’s main selling point for a few years now. The act of performing on a stage in front of an enamored audience always thrilled him, but she…she was different. This new and sudden but pleasant feeling cut him way deeper, hit him harder—he knew that she was something magical. And Lestat wasn’t quite sure where to put that desire and hunger, so he decided to do the thing he does best: he needed to have her all to himself, by any means necessary. Lestat was delighted to find that the feeling was so clearly mutual.

Santiago watched Lestat enchant Y/N as they continued with their performances. He gasped quietly as he saw Lestat become smitten with Y/N, rolling his eyes. Just look at those two! Can you believe them? They’ve made eyes at each other from the second she came through the door. They’ve only just met a few hours ago and he’s looking at her like Venus de Milo herself…and she looks as if she’s about to melt through the floor. Armand found himself becoming more and more annoyed as Lestat and Y/N carried on like they were, and Santiago took notice. Maître, you’re grinding your teeth…

Armand huffed quietly. I said let them continue. Y/N is smarter than we realize. If she doesn’t know who she’s getting herself tied up with, she will. I can guarantee that. Armand maintained his mildly annoyed expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. I see potential in her. We can use that potential.

Santiago, ever the drama queen but also the suck-up, tried to push Armand’s buttons. How shall we do that, maître? I wonder what our violinist has to say about this…I can’t imagine he’s especially thrilled about—

Armand cut him off once again. Be silent now, Santiago. Nicki is the least of my worries right now.

Now mildly aware of the growing discomfort in the pit of Armand’s stomach and Santiago’s antagonizing of him, Lestat continued to read with Y/N. He was enraptured by her, this was true—but he also found quite a bit of amusement in making Armand uncomfortable. Y/N, less aware of the effect her performance is having on the Coven leader and his all-too-willing sidekick, matched him masterfully.

“And wilt thou have me?” said Lestat, sultry and low.

Y/N nodded her head and smiled. “Ay, and twenty such.”

Lestat felt his heart flutter in his chest as he moved closer to her. “What sayest thou?”

Y/N gently bit her lip then let it go with a smirk. “Are you not good?”

“I hope so.” Lestat rolled his eyes in a sassy manner.

“Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?” Y/N went on, closing the small space between herself and Lestat.

The vaguely pained expression did not escape Armand’s face. Still wanting to maintain some sort of order and power over his Coven, Armand kept his focus fixed on the two vampires on the stage in front of him.

Santiago, an evil grin taking shape over his features, watched Lestat and Y/N’s bond become deeper by the second as Y/N continued. “Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando.” Y/N gently reached for Lestat’s hand, and he placed it in hers, tangling their fingers together. She looked to where the audience would be sitting. “What do you say sister?” Y/N looked back up at Lestat as he gazed back at her, their vampire eyes blown out with love and desire for each other.

After what felt like an eternity, Lestat put his finger under Y/N’s chin and gingerly tilted her head up. He started to move down to press his lips to hers, and she moved up to meet him. He closed his eyes, and her eyelids fluttered shut as his lips gently—

A groan could be heard from Armand as Santiago abruptly rose from his seat and applauded loudly. Lestat and Y/N snapped out of their trance and pulled away from each other, no longer able to hide their blushing. The rest of the Coven began to applaud as well. The vampires Sam and Gustav were enthusiastic in their encouragement of the new potential member of the Coven and her undeniable and palpable chemistry with their Theatre’s founder. Celeste looked on with a proud smile on her face, while Estelle clapped wildly. Eglee rolled her eyes before eventually joining in with her applause. Backstage, Nicki shook his head again as he quietly left the auditorium, quietly cursing under his breath.

“Very well done, Y/N. Very well done indeed,” said Santiago, sounding giddier than he probably should. He looked at Armand. “What say you, maître?” he asked with mock amusement.

Armand once again did not listen. He looked up at Y/N as Lestat released her from his gentle but bold embrace. “Exquisite work, Y/N. Exceptional. While we evaluate your performance, you are welcome to remain here with the Coven. We have provided a coffin for you near your maker’s.” Armand started to dismiss everyone before he turned back to Y/N. “We do expect you to keep our hours, curfew is three o’clock sharp.” He shot a subtle but menacing glare at Lestat. Lestat rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he turned his back to him. Armand looked at Y/N again. Lestat smiled warmly at Y/N as he winked at her.

Still reeling from everything that just occurred, Y/N nodded and bowed. “Yes maître, I will. Thank you all.” Armand dismissed Santiago and the rest of the Coven, and they all left the auditorium.

It was then that Y/N heard a sensual and seductive voice inside her head.

Très bien fait, ma chérie. I’m impressed.

Y/N turned around to find Lestat leaning against the piano on the stage, his arms crossed over his chest, looking her up and down, dripping with genuine curiosity and insatiable desire. She blushed and smiled as she met his gaze.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Lestat. It really means a lot to hear.” Y/N walked over to him, slightly nervous but not at all deterred. “You were amazing yourself.”

Lestat rolled his eyes playfully at her compliment but accepted it. “You flatter me, mon amour.” He stood up straight and walked over to her, looking down at her with that softly sly smirk again. “I must say, my dear Y/N, you are quite the actress. Many have come and gone from this theatre, but none have bewitched me so like you have, ma petite fleur.”

Y/N swooned at his words, slightly taken aback by the sincerity in them despite the obvious attraction. “Oh, you’re too kind. It’s not often I’m in the presence of someone so…” She caught herself getting lost in his eyes again—something she has by now realized is very easy to do—before she continued. “So…enchanting as you.”

Lestat chuckled lowly. “Is that so? Well, you have captivated me too, love,” he said, pausing briefly as he took the sight of her in. “I haven’t seen such talent on this stage in quite some time, Y/N.” She blushed deeper as she took a second to gather her thoughts. Y/N sighed softly before speaking.

“Thank you! I’m just happy that I can finally do what I love to do. Up until today, I thought it was unfortunate that I couldn’t do this kind of thing when I was mortal, but I don’t have that feeling now that I’m here. In an odd way, it feels right like this.” Y/N chuckled lightly.

Lestat listened to her words intently. “I know that feeling very well, mon coeur. For what it’s worth, I’m quite glad you wandered into our midst. I can see already that you’re passionate about the Theatre, and it’s refreshing. You’re simply lovely.” Y/N smiled at his words of admiration and encouragement. “I cannot wait to see what other talents you possess, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he said with a smirk, appreciating the slight drop of her jaw. Noticing the positive tension on her face, Lestat spoke gently to her. “Oh, and don’t be nervous, chérie. There is nothing to be afraid of. I have no doubt you’ll fit in here, I am sure of it.” He traced her jawline affectionately before tilting her head up to bring her eyes to meet his, just like he did during her audition. “And, if I may be so bold, I would love to get to know you better. If you’ll have me, of course.” Y/N’s eyes widened as she swooned. She nodded as she stuttered slightly.

“I’d love to, Lestat. I would be honored.” Y/N felt her heart jump into her mouth. The gorgeous blonde vampire in front of her reveled in how flustered she looked as he spoke to her.

“Very well then, dear Y/N. We’ll continue our little conversation after your initiation tomorrow.”

Y/N gulped. “My…my what?!”

Lestat giggled slyly. “You heard me correctly, ma chérie. Welcome to the Theatre, darling. You’re one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

“But…Armand said—” Lestat gently placed a finger over her lips to shut her up as he spoke lowly to her, sultry and dripping with desire.

“Shh, ma jolie fille…never mind what that manipulative gremlin Armand said.” Lestat let his finger gently drag across her bottom lip before letting it go. He brushed some of her hair behind her ear as he continued. “I’ll be seeing you backstage afterwards, yes?”

There was no way for him to be coy about his appetite for her any more than he had earlier. The vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, the Brat Prince himself, was anything but shy about his unquenchable thirst for Y/N; it only grew exponentially in the few hours since he met her.

Y/N felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she nodded. “Of course, Lestat. You will.” She smiled at him, trying to regulate her breathing.

Lestat smiled wickedly at her again. “Très bien, mon amour. I’ll see you then.” He caressed her face again before turning to walk away. “Bonne nuit, ma belle. Sweet dreams.”

Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she smiled. “Good night, Lestat. I hope you sleep well.” Blushing, she beamed at him, and he smiled back, a blush of his own on his face.

With that, they left the room. As she lifted the lid to her coffin next to the others to crawl inside it, Y/N gasped as she heard Lestat’s voice in her head again, stopping her momentarily.

Remember what I told you, ma petite fleur. There is nothing to worry your pretty little head with. And know this too, my darling: I don't bite...hard.

[purpleph4se]

devotion p2

armand x reader

warnings | smut, afab! reader, dom! armand, oral (fem), hypnosis (kinda sorta), blood drinking (im sorry i had too), praise, creampie

a/n | HEY EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so so sorry for disappearing for a minute but i basically forced myself to finish this fic since i felt like it needed a p2 so feast my children. i wanted to finish it sooner so i would be able to post it on halloween but writers block fucked me sideways. enjoy as always <3 crossposted on my ao3

part 1 here <3

your mind was still hazy from your orgasm, you briefly feel armand shift behind you and settle in between your legs. 

lowering himself, armand placed a trail of kisses over your tummy, letting his tongue sneak out from time to time. he held your gaze, and you, still in the afterglow of pleasure, couldn’t look away. his golden eyes were so tender and mellow, capturing yours in a trance.

he resumed his kisses over your belly, his hands gripped both your thighs to spread them wide apart. he rubbed soothing circles on your thighs with his thumbs, his lips whispering sweet words of praise and encouragement against the sensitive skin.

“you’re being so good for me, beloved..” his voice was sweet honey pouring into your ears, it left tingles all over your skin. his kisses lowered from your navel towards your core in a torturous pace, savoring every contact his lips had with your supple skin. 

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and there he was again, you swore you heard him inside your head. too dazed to even ask him how he’s doing you instead nod dumbly at his question. he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right?

“good, good…” he positioned himself in between your thighs, not at your core just yet but instead he placed kisses upon your thigh. starting at the crevice where your thigh met your cunt, he trailed soft kisses up. you sighed, quivering under his touch. 

his gaze met yours once again, “i promise this won’t hurt…” he whispered. you opened your mouth to speak before he unhinged his jaw, a perfect set of fangs almost suddenly appeared and then disappeared once they sank into the flesh of your thigh. 

you gasped, throwing your head back in pain, but it lasted only a second before a wave of bliss went through you, a high from him sucking the blood from your thigh. for a moment you thought he was going to kill you.

“a—armand—“ 

he continued to drink from you as you watched his pupils expand as he tasted your blood. he unattached himself from your thigh, your blood soaking his mouth, dripping onto the sheets. you felt lost in a haze. “my love, you taste divine…” he mumbled, lapping at the blood leaking from the punctures he left, seemingly having a soothing effect on the wounds. 

“armand…wh-what are y-“

“shh, beloved. don’t speak. don’t think…”

he was in your head again. what the fuck was happening? armand continued to press soothing kisses on your thigh. alarm bells were going off in your head but you couldn’t help but stay still for him. far too entranced by the angelic man in between your legs.

“let me take care of you…”

and like a puppet pulled by his strings, you begged him, begged him to please you. he pulled away just a little to admire the sight in front of him. his golden eyes were now fixated on your core. the rich and fragrant scent of your arousal filled his nostrils and made him almost light-headed.

reaching out with the tip of a finger, he lightly prodded at the small pearl crowning your core and lowering at your entrance, eliciting a cry out of you.

armand observed fascinated by how your body reacted to his barely there touch, your cunt crying at his touch and coating the tip of his finger. you were sopping wet already, your sweet nectar already leaving small stains on his bedsheets.

taking his digit, he lifted it to his face and watched for a moment how it glistened with your essence coating it. his piercing eyes locking with your as his tongue rolled out of his mouth, sensually licking your nectar off his finger. 

“oh, beloved…”

you let out a loud gasp as his lips and tongue made contact with your cunt. he started slow, teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue before moving his lips to your clit, suckling gently on it and then starting his pattern again.

then he’s eating into you, lips and tongue and edges of teeth devouring you like the lion to the lamb. your eyes clench shut so hard that you see stars in the blackness. 

his lips close around your clit and he sucks on it it, ravenous, your slick was so enticing for armand, just like your blood, he started feeling drunk of it. he soon picked up his pace, drinking from you desperately, eating you with such care and need just like when he was drinking from you.

“a-ahh armand—please-!” you struggled trying to form coherent words. you squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, your hands searching for something, anything, to hold onto and ground you to reality. both of them ended latching to his black locks of hair, your mind torn between pushing him away in fear for your life, or pulling him even closer to keep him pleasuring you.

It was too much, and at the same time, it wasn’t enough.

your hips rolled instinctively into his greedy mouth, your legs shaking uncontrollably, giving him no choice but to hold onto your thighs with a deadly grip, effectively pinning you down onto his mattress and leaving you with no chance to move away from him.

the entire room felt like it was spinning, filled with your wanton cries and the dirty slurping sounds coming from armands mouth, as well as his constant moans of satisfaction. your back arched constantly, and you kept whining his name like a desperate prayer for mercy. mercy you wouldn’t receive from him anytime soon.

your hands couldn’t stay still in a single place, soon they had left his hair to instead grab onto the bedsheets or the pillow supporting your head. you lowered one hand to look for something else to hold onto for dear life, when it suddenly found one of his. 

instinctively, you both laced your fingers together, chasing your peak. your grip to his hand tightened as you felt yourself slipping over the edge. armand must sense that your climax is dawning on you so quickly, too quickly for his liking, because he slides from your body and he leaves a parting kiss on your cunt. he stared at you, looking like a wild, hungry animal, there was only a small golden ring left in dilated eyes.

“i—i need you to cum on my cock..”

your chest rises and falls in shaking breaths. the sight of him between your parted legs, his beautiful mouth stained with your slick pulling into a gentle smirk that makes your cunt ache as well as strike a deep fear in you. 

"would you enjoy that, beloved?" he purrs the question. you swallow thickly as you try to collect your thoughts. your mind reels with the whiplash of having been so close to your breaking point and then suddenly back to total lack of stimulation. 

and as if the words were pulled out of you “yes, please armand—i need you…” you watch him push up to sit on his knees.

he towers over you with zero effort, all slender and sinewy and spectral. he unbuckles his pants and pulls out the evidence of his carnality as it lays heavy and hard against his leg, the slit leaking slightly on his tan flesh. 

you felt dizzy nearly drooling at the view presented before you speak again. "i-i want you to fuck me, please—please make me yours armand, i wanna—“ you gasp see his cock throb at your words and he leans in closer, pushing your knees farther apart. armand presses an incendiary kiss to your lips to put an end to your begging.

you gasp brokenly against his mouth as the head pushes into you. its girth splits you cleanly and the overload of sensation has you clutching onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands into his hair.

"shh-shh my love, shh-shh..." he hushes you, his whispers coming out with a tremor as he hilts fully inside you. being this close, you can smell the metallic sweetness of your own fluids on his chilled breath. his hips roll gently to bottom out. 

the both of you sit panting for a moment before he begins to push back and forth in rhythm. his pace is slow and easy, and he drinks in the sounds you make under him. 

"taking me so—so well, love..” croons, and his tone gives away just how much he aches for you. the swing of his hips brings breathless sounds and trembly sighs from you and you can tell he's feasting on the chorus you're giving up so generously. 

"you will be mine forever." he murmurs, lips against your neck, feeling your sweet blood rushing through your veins. "you know that, yes? whose you belong to and whose you are?"

"i’m yours-" your reply is a rushed tumble and you cant your hips upwards to catch his thrusts at a better angle. in a blur, light bursts behind your eyes and you sing delightfully with it. "i’m yours!"

armand almost whimpers at your words while driving his hips into your soft willing body. his mouth is almost like hellfire against your flesh, branding you so that only he can have you. he’s resisting the urge to skin his fangs into your thoughts yet whole time he's whispering and chanting in your mind that you belong to him and him alone. 

heat flashes hot and white through your whole being as you're suddenly wracked with your orgasm. it like dying, like flying, like being tossed end over end as he slams into you through your climax.

he’s gripping you close like he's scared you'll vanish suddenly, rutting into you like an animal as he chases the delicious pulsing warmth of your walls. he can feel you clutching him as well, blunt nails digging into his back and hand tangled in his dark hair.

your name is like poetry on his tongue, twisted into art by ecstasy and prayer, as he finally spills his seed deep in your core, so searing that you could believe instead that it's actually freezing. his hips rock to a stop.

he stays above you, panting with you in the heady aftershocks that leave sparks in the corners of your visions.

armand shifts to kiss you, in which you can taste yourself on him in a way that leaves you whining into his mouth, and leans up all the way. he is so wickedly beautiful in the moonlight.

"will you stay…?" he breathes the words, voice and low and inviting. louis flashes in his mind for a moment, not for long as he watches you tiredly smile as he slides from you. you're not sure why but, you tell him what he wants to hear.

“i’ll stay, armand”

[delicateinnocentrottenporcelain]

"I am the quiet you've been longing for"

"But, Daniel..."

"It's okay."

THE HEAD CARESSING?????

[lesbianzhan]

i don’t know how to write men well due to i am the man hating lesbian your father warned you about. thus i am trying to wlw!devil’s minion.

and the thing is, when you take this show and these characters whose stories are so rooted in the permissions of patriarchy, it brings up way too many questions that i don’t know how to answer. for example, is danny still bi? is she a lesbian who, if 70s dm happened, is thrown back into comphet after armande wipes her memories? if she is the one who carried her daughters, how might that change her relationship with them? especially if she resents the trauma of their pregnancies? how does that change how the world receives the book? does her published steamroll her and publish it under a fiction genre because danny’s an old woman after all—of course she’s turned to writing gothic romantasy? never mind the fact that she had never previously shown any interest in or knack for writing fiction.

it begs the question of who should be genderbent too. sure, daniel, armand, louis, and lestat. but what about claudia? and, of course, whether claudia is or isn’t genderbent, it changes the unholy family dynamics, how they were able to move about the world.

and yeah, i probably don’t need to Think too hard about loustat and claudia if i’m writing silly dm toxic old woman yuri, but the domino effect of louis’s story into everyone’s lives is the grounding part of the original, and to me, it bears considering.

[cregan-starks]

Fic Recs (12-18 August)

My feedback can be found on my fic rec blog @missionaria-protectiva

@shewhomustbecalledking - emperor of shards [lestat de lioncourt x louis de pointe du lac, louis de pointe du lac x armand]

@shewhomustbecalledking - late night, warm skin, beating heart [armand x louis de pointe du lac, implied lestat de lioncourt x louis de pointe du lac]

@moonlight-prose - asterism (ao3) [cassian andor x reader]

@eldrith - on sunny days I go out walking [jacaerys velaryon x reader]

@sunkendreams - the wolf heeds the dragon [cregan stark x reader, nsfw]

@peachysunrize - tangerine dreams (ao3) [aemond targaryen x reader]

gifmaker shoutout: @remusjohnslupin

artist shoutout: @irlplasticlamb

[spicywreck]

I Wish I Was Your Boy - Ch. 7

( gif by @danielsarmand )

Rating: Explicit Pairings: Armand/Daniel Molloy, Daniel Molloy & Louis de Pointe du Lac; Background Armand/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Blood, Armand Being Armand, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Angst, Mentioned Marius de Romanus Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Top Armand, Bottom Daniel, Hurt/Comfort, Wet & Messy, Spit Kink, Tenderness, Aftercare, Intersex Omegas, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Vampire Bites, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Cock Worship, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, Breeding, Size Queen Daniel Molloy, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Sexual Fantasy, Porn with Plot, Porn with Feelings

Summary:

“Do you not believe me?” He asks, unable to distinguish the harsh feelings coursing through his boy.

“Oh, no. I know you believe it.”

The beta leans back, confused. “Then what is this entanglement of emotions I’m getting from you, my dear?”

Daniel stares, something wicked gleaming in his eye. “I just find it funny you can spin gold about literally everyone else but you, that’s all.”

Chapter 7

Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

[mossycakes]

eek! its finally here! my devils minion smut fic that has been in the works for a few weeks is finally finished and available to read on your local ao3!

post dubai, vampire daniel is desperate to see armand again, and especially desperate to suck his dick. he uses his telepathic powers to annoy every vampire in america until armand gives in, at which point ... well ...

[stvolanis]

TOO SWEET

PAIRINGS: the vampire Louis De Pointe Du Lac x Fem! Mortal! OC

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood, blood consumption, alcohol consumption, mentions of killing, mention of Lestat, no Claudia, reader is perceived as innocent, age gap, OC being turned into a vampire, inaccurate timeline probably, YES I USED LINES FROM THE SONG DONT HATE ON MY GRIND.

NSFW WARNINGS: light choking, biting, sir kink, manhandling, blood, fingering, making out, p in v, creampie, praise, overstimulation, power play, slight corruption kink? Idk

The year was 1925, 15 years after Louis had been turned into a godforsaken vampire, doomed to the harsh life of an unwilling immortality of lies and betrayal.

The dark gift was taking, the worst of its flaws and punishments being that every night you woke and walked amongst the living. The bitter feeling of no longer being mortal, and forgetting what it was once like to be a regular human amongst the crowd, rather than a predator picking out its prey in the sea of flesh.

Day after day, party after party, body after body—to be short, it was a routine. A boring one, at that.

He noticed her dress first, long and drug behind her. Baby pink in color, with periwinkle and a flamingo pink shade of flowers adorning the fabric. Diamonds glistened under the light of the expensive chandelier, and her white gloved hands reached for a deep red champagne—the vibrancy he imagined her blood would be.

A long white feather sprouted out from her mass of curls, a dark chocolate with an odd singular strip of white rooted at the front of her hair, framing her face. Where her white strand of hair was rooted almost melted down onto her face, a pale patch of skin on her forehead stood out.

Her face was decorated in moles, almost perfectly hand placed by God herself. Lips plump, parted as his enhanced hearing heard every soft breath that passed. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she scanned the room, oblivious to the bright eyes staring at her.

She was out of place. He knew that she knew she didn’t belong in a place like this, but that only lead to the question of why she was here, in a room of people money and sex hungry. The complete opposite of her.

Her voice echoed in his head, and he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. ‘I wonder if there’s cake. This drink is awful.’ How sweet. In a room of smoke and drunken men, she’s worried about eating cake.

The dark angel lurked against the walls of the extravagant room, looking at the beauty in every angle possible. A lamb. His lamb. So pure, unbeknownst to the evils around each corner she turned. ‘What is your name, girl?’ He spoke, using his mind as communication.

He visibly saw her freeze. Like her heart stopped beating in her body—not yet. Her heart would not yet stop beating. “What?” She replied, aloud, desperately looking around the room to match the voice to a face—till her eyes stopped on him.

Their eyes connected. Heat rose through her in a fiery roar, curiosity and conflict dancing in her eyes with the smallest hint of fear. Fear was normal. Humans lived off of fear, it’s was the reason for everything if you peeled away enough layers.

‘You’ve found me’ Louis smiled. She felt her heart begin to beat again. Her hands balled into fists against her dress, a wad of fabric curled into a ball. ‘How are you doing this?’ She asked, eye contact between the two never once being broken.

‘Come.’ Was all he replied. He left the large room full of lousy people, around the corridors, and out through the back. He was met with a dark alley, a rather clean one—still boxes scattered around, though. Humans we’re filthy. Like toddlers who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves.

She followed behind him till they were standing mere feet apart from each other outside in the privacy of the night. “Who are you?” She finally spoke after a long moment of silence.

“I am whatever you perceive me as. Most call me the devil.” He chuckled. The first few years after his changing, he took offense to it. Hated being called it. Pondered if he really was the Devil. He knows he isn’t now. Farthest from it.

“You’re too handsome to be considered such” she smiled, two dimples. She was genuine, not a hint of lie detected in her speech. “I ain’t got nothin’ on you.” He replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously—nervously? How peculiar.

Louis felt like a schoolboy all over again. Giddy at the compliment she gave, flush rising to his cheeks faintly over her eyes pondering over his existence. “What is your name?” She asked, her head tilted ever so slightly.

“Louis De Pointe Du Lac.” He said, pridefully. She thought for a moment—“my daddy used to go to that place you own, I’m not sure what it’s called?—” she said, urging him to finish her thought. “The Azalea. My money maker.” A charming smile graced his face.

“Maybe I should go sometime.” She said, a cheeky smile playing at her lips. Louis let out a breath of air as he softly shook his head. “Nah, that’s not the place for you, baby”

“Yeah? then what is the place for me, Mr. du Lac?” She whispered, glancing down at the bottom of her dresses as she nervously fiddled with her fingers behind her back. His hand found her chin, lifting her head to do their eyes could once again meet.

“Bright as the morning, aren’t you?” He whispered back. His voice was laced with desire, yet he was holding himself back. Louis was in fear, for the first time in a long time. He was fearful to taint the aura of innocence the damsel carried around with her. He didn’t want to have to be the one to burst her bubble. But somewhere inside of him did.

“What are you, Mr. du Lac?” She said, her tone more serious than before as her eyes swirled with curiosity. But after all, it was curiosity that killed the cat. “I’m a vampire.” He replied calmy, like it was an every day occurrence. She giggled.

“Oh yeah, then where are your fangs?” She teased. Louis quirked a brow, taken aback for a moment. His mouth opened large enough for her to watch as his fangs protruded—white, and sharp. She brought her finger to the tip of his tooth, pricking her finger.

Crimson spilled from her small wound, and her scent clouded his mind. He couldn’t have her like this—not yet. It wasn’t her time still. Louis couldn’t help himself as he gently grabbed her wrist, holding it in place as his tongue met with the pad of her finger, sufficiently licking up any traces of blood.

“Fuck—you taste like pineapple.” He mumbled, placing a soft kiss against her wound before forcing himself to pull away, again, in fear of harming her. “My name is Thérèse.” She let out a shaky breath. He knew it wasn’t from fear, but rather arousal.

His hand reached for her waist, pulling her close to his body. Her chest was flush against his, and her cleavage was on display. She looked like an angel, sent down just for him. He knew he didn’t deserve her, shouldn’t have even been able to be in her presence—yet the way she felt against him felt so right, and that feeling wasn’t something he could deny or dismiss.

Their noses brushed against each other, and their lips were mere centimeters apart. One move and they would be touching. “Thérèse.” He said. Her name sounded like velvet on his tongue, and she longed for him to say it for centuries to come. To hear him call out for her. To her.

Their lips crashed together, the kiss desperate. The metallic taste of her blood lingered on his tongue, yet it only made her all the more eager to have him. Their tongues danced together, a fight for dominance that Thérèse easily gave up. He explored her mouth, and she allowed him.

This would be the first of many things she would allow him to do. She allowed him to hold her hand delicately as he guided her through the busy roads of their town. He had a certain way about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Enchanting, almost. Alluring, maybe. Possibly a word non-existing.

His hand was cold to the touch, which Thèrése found odd, yet she had not comment to give. She was aware he was not quite human, but she wasn’t ready to accept what he was yet. Just a few moments, maybe days longer, she’d like to live in a carefree bliss. He respected and supported her unvocalized wish.

“How long have you lived here, Louis?” He sighed, glancing around at the town he’d known all his immortal life. “Forever.” He replied. “The white people are ignorant. Greedy liars, most of them. They feed off of the red district, and all the people in it.” He said.

“I made the Azalea to counteract them. Get the white mans money.” He finished. She hummed in acknowledgment.

Thèrése was Hispanic, and immigrant from overseas. A land conquered by natives with the white people invading like the Huns invaded Rome. It was tragic, being forced to move far away from all she’d known since she was 17. She was now at the ripe age of 22 years old, standing at 5’5 without shoes on.

“Was it hard?” Louis asked, glancing over at her. She quirked a brow in confusion. “Was what hard?” She asked. Louis looked up at the sky. It was dark. The way it had been for years. Darkness was now the only thing he’d ever be able to see. “Leaving your home. To travel such great lengths.”

She decided not to ponder on how he knew, in fear of messing up the content atmosphere they had created. “Yes. I left many family members and friends behind. But, I endured. For my family, I endured.” She responded, almost as if robotically.

“I was going to be forced to marry a white man named Humbert had I not left. The life I saw before me was not what I had planned, but I am grateful for the freedom I have now grown accustomed to.” She responded. She looked up at the sky with him.

“They’re beautiful.” She started. “I wish to see space. To feel the heat of the stars.” She whispered, pausing her walking with Louis next to her, close enough to have their shoulders bumping. “The stars get exhausting when you look at them long enough.” He whispered back.

“I think I could spend a lifetime looking at them.” She said, a smile gracing her lips. She looked beautiful like this, and Louis wished to remember this exact scene before him for the rest of his life. “Be careful what you wish for, Thèrése.” He responded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his clean slacks.

They walked throughout the night, hand in hand. The moonlight created highlights that emphasized their alluring features, and for the first time in a long time, Louis was in love. And for the first time ever, Thèrése was too.

They stopped at a gated entrance, and beyond it, was Louis home he hadn’t showed anyone who lived to tell. Thèrése would be the first mortal he brought to his home without killing, and she would be the last as he opened the gate, allowing her to go in first.

A small hand was placed at the small of her back, guiding her throughout the house she had entered after walking through an outside area of the house. “You live here? By yourself?” She asked him, glancing over her shoulder as her eyes wandered over the antiques of the house.

“Yeah, I live by myself now.” He said, shrugging off his expensive jacket and hanging it on a rack. Thèrése felt an unfamiliar heat spread throughout her body as she watched him loosen the cuffs of his sleeves and collar of his shirt. “Now?” She asked.

“Had a roommate. We didn’t work out. He was a cunt.” He said, walking to a table and picking up a wine glass, pouring some for himself. “I know you don’t like wine. I’m afraid I have nothing else to drink, but if you would like some then tell me.” He said, taking a sip.

Thèrése watched the way he swallowed it, visibly seeing it travel down his throat. Her eyes zeroed in on the droplet the fell from his lips—and her head was suddenly spinning with thoughts of him consuming her blood.

It must’ve been the wine she had drunken before she arrived. That’s gotta be it, right? Why else would she be having such vile thoughts?

He didn’t give her time to linger on the thought much longer as he began to unbotton his shirt, ever so slowly walking closer to her. Almost like he was hunting her—but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to hunt such a pure being.

Thèrése fiddled with the rings on her gentle fingers, watching, unsure of what to do as his shirt was swiftly removed, displaying his body. Slim, yet fit. She longed to trace over every piece of him, to memorize Louis inch by inch so she wouldn’t forget this very night.

His hands reached out to her. One placed delicately on the base of her neck, and the other, roughly pulling her body to his by her waist. Her breath got caught in her throat, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing down at his lips.

“Louis…” She said breathlessly. He could feel her heat radiating off of her, especially from where his hands were touching her body. He could smell the slick between her thighs he knew were meaty under her dress. “Need this off of you.” He said, tugging at her dress.

“You gon’ let me take it off you, mama?” He asked, gently as he searched her eyes for an answer. “Please.” She said, almost desperately, making her face flush in embarrassment. Louis laughed at her eagerness.

He removed her dress from her body, following with her gloves. She covered her breasts with her hands shyly, laced panties still on. Her dress was pulled at her feet and Louis removed her hands from covering herself.

Thèrèses’ nipples hardened under the rather cold air of his odd home. Louis hands cupped them, inspecting them with such admiration. “So pretty. So fuckin’ pretty.” He said, kissing a mole above her areola, down to where her perk nipple was.

He suckled it harshly into his mouth, massaging the other with his free hand. Thèrése whimpered at his assault on her nipple, watching as he switched to the other one. His tongue reached out to kitten lick her nipple as he held eye contact with her.

Thèréses’ thighs squeezed together as the burn between her thighs grew uncomfortably. “You gonna let me have you?” He asked, trailing one of his hands down to her panties. He kissed along her neck, all the way up, till he was at her mouth again.

“Yes, Louis.” She mumbled. Louis clicked his tongue. “Try again.” He urged. He pushed her panties to the side, slowly sliding in one of his slender fingers. Years of pleasurable experience revealing itself as he worked at her cunt.

“Y-Yes, sir. Oh—Oh god.” She whimpered out as she felt another finger prod at her entrance. Two of his fingers slammed into her sopping hole at an alarming rate. Thèrése felt herself grow weak in the knees, and Louis knew as he held her up. “Shh.” He whispered, his breath fanning her ear.

He slipped out his fingers and slightly bent down just enough to reach her bottom as he slightly tapped it. “Jump” he said. Thèrése jumped, wrapping her legs around Louis slender waist, and her arms around his shoulders as she buried her face into his neck, leaving small opened mouth kisses.

“So needy, aren’t you? You all needy for me?” He asked, even though he confidently knew what the answer was. Thèrése nodded her head against him, afraid her voice would betray her if she spoke and said anything.

He threw her onto the couch—not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to make her bounce slightly on the cushion. He wanted to see her bounce on him. The imagine of her on top of him trying her hardest to ride him while her breasts moved with each of her bounces made his cock twitch.

Thèrése was more overwhelmed than she had been her whole life. No one had ever seen her this bare as he took her panties off. She was ashamed to be letting him to these things to her, but she was more ashamed at the fact she grew aroused from it. Aroused from the power difference between them.

She might not have known to what extent his strength lied, but she knew he was strong. Strong enough to probably lift her with just a finger. The idea that he could bend her and use her to his liking sent a shiver down her spine of want. She needed him in every way she could have him.

Louis spread her legs apart, revealing her aching, wet cunt that looked almost painfully in need to be taken care of. Two of his fingers found their way back inside of her, working at her gummy walls as she whined and whimpered under him.

“Shh, I know. I know.” He whispered, his fingers growing more erratic. “Want you—in me, please.” She said desperately, a hand cupping his face. He was breathtaking. His thumb skillfully rubbed her clit at a slow pace, almost as if he was trying to sooth whatever pain Thèrése might’ve been feeling.

“Gonna make you feel fuckin’ amazing.” He said, pulling out his fingers. He unbuttoned his slacks and pulled them down along with his undergarments just enough to reveal his cock. Thèrése couldn’t help but just stare at it in a mix of emotions of fear, arousal, and excitement.

Fear from how intimidating it looked; long and uncut with a patch of curly hair at the top. Thèrése felt nasty as she realized just how badly she wanted to lick his happy trail. Arousal from his mushroom tip that was pulsing with desire, and pre cum leaking from his tip. Excitement bubbled as Thèrése thought about the events that were mere seconds from unfolding in front of her.

He slapped his meaty cock onto her pussy tauntingly, a wet, heavy sound, loud and prominent. She clenched around nothing, but slowly felt his tip enter her. It was a painful stretch as he slid himself in, inch by inch, trying his hardest not to hurt her.

Louis restrained himself as she clenched around him tightly. He knew this was the closest to heaven he’d ever get, with the angel under him at his mercy. His to do with whatever he pleased and saw fit. His in every aspect of her mortal, and soon immortal, being. Soul tied and bound to the earth together for eternity was the way he wanted to spend his days with her.

“Oh my God—oh fuck—” she gasped out, mouth hung slightly agape. Pain shot through her first, eyes watering as evidence, but was soon followed after with an immense pleasure she never knew she could feel. “Not God, Thèrése—Me.” He huffed as he gripped her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder.

Louis began to move his hips against her, slowly at first—then, in the blink of an eye, he snapped. The self restraint he forced himself to have was gone, and a seemingly sweet and charming man was replaced by a domineering beast.

At an inhumane pace, his cock hammered into her. His hands dug into her thighs in a tight grip—a grip so tight, his sharp nails broke skin. The scent of her blood filled his senses, and he went feral. His lips found her neck as he leaned down, leaving desperate kisses to subside the pain he was soon going to inflict on her porcelain throat.

“Louis—wait—” she pleaded, but made no movement to stop him. The pleasure was overwhelming as she arched her back into him, grasping onto his skin—still cold to the touch. Why was he so cold? She felt something sharp pierce the side of her throat, but oddly enough, the pain was overruled by the way he fucked her.

Thèrése wouldn’t be living much longer. “You’re to sweet for me.” He groaned, licking at the wound on her neck he had created. He watched blood ooze out of her, enjoying the crimson that decorated her neck. The familiar taste of pineapple was nothing if not addicting.

Thèrése felt weak, her body unable to hold itself up any longer as she grew light headed. The room began to spin, and Thèrése now knew she was no longer seeing things as his fangs poked two more holes near her wrist. Blood poured out of her and into his mouth.

Was this the way she would die? At the hands of the most charming man she’d ever met? The vampire who sealed her fate stopped sucking, slit his own wrist, and brought it to Thèréses’ mouth.

He fucked her harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. Her moans got caught on his wrist as his blood trickled down her throat. Thèrèse, pupils dilated and on a high, felt her end near as she clutched his wrist to her mouth like she would never be able to drink the forbidden liquid ever again.

Louis snatched his wrist back from her mouth quickly before she made herself sick. He knew she would want more blood, so he instead flipped Thèrése onto all fours, arching her ass into the air. Thèrèse cried and begged for Louis wrist—his cold blood back in her mouth.

“Shhh, shut up. You’ve had enough. Don’t be greedy, baby.” He scolded, grabbing her by the back of her hair and shoving her face into the cushion. “P-Please—Louis, M’gonna c-cum. Need you.” She begged as she pushed her ass back onto him, meeting his hard thrusts.

Her words began to slur together as his brutal pace never faltered. The grip he had on her waist was bruising, but Thèrése couldn’t even feel it. Her body felt as though it was on fire from head to toe, and the unbearable heat and pressure of her cunt was all too much for the young fledgling.

“You said you wanted to see the stars forever, right?” He asked, his breath grazing the shell of her ear. He didn’t sound like he did earlier—calm and alluring. He sounded gruff and disheveled—and every word he spoke almost came out in a growl.

He felt his balls tighten, and ever muscle in his body tensed. “Gonna stuff this pretty ass cunt. You ready, darlin’?” He said, his southern drawl laced with every word. “Y-yesss.” She groaned out through clenched teeth as his hand found her clit.

He played with her clit like he had been doing this for years, expertly. An overbearing wave of pressure was what made Thèrése snap as juices poured out of her. Louis never once slowed down, and his fingers continued to help her ride her high.

Louis didn’t stop, still chasing his end. Thèrése mindlessly took everything he gave her as her pussy grew sore and overstimulated from the relentless of the top of his cock hitting her cervix. “Can’t—I can’t, sir—“ she choked out, her words sounding almost as if her mind was in a distant place.

“Take it, Thèrése.” He urged as he bit down onto his lip, trying his hardest to resist sinking his fangs into her again. Thèrése listened, and the only sounds that escaped her drying lips were moans and whimpers of pleasure. Only Louis would ever be able to see her this way—this desperate and in need for him.

“Good girl. Just like that.” He said, stuffing her pussy full of his cum. His head was thrown back in bliss as he fucked his seed into her, deeper and deeper as his high subsided into a dull aching feeling. “Did so well, baby.” He said, his voice shaky.

He slid himself out of her, and watched as his cum spilled from her used hole, and onto his expensive foreign furniture. Thèrése laid there, legs sore and head still spinning, now in a painful manner as Louis scooped her up into his arms bridal style.

“S-so you’re really a vampire, huh?” She asked through a long and drug out yawn. He chuckled as he gazed down at her small frame in his arms. “Yes, and come tomorrow night, you will be too.” He replied, walking up the stairs of his old home.

“I’m scared, Louis.” She whispered, blinking slowly. Thèrése grew tired, her eyes heavy with sleep. “You won’t be for long.” He said reassuringly. “You have me now. Forever.” He muttered as he pushed open a door.

A singular coffin was placed in the center, right in front of a fire place. Thèrèse was laid in the coffin by Louis, and she watched as he left the room to grab a warmed wash cloth. She was in love. She died in love. And now, for the rest of her dead life, she will continue to live in love with the man who swooned her in the alley.

Vampires say the worst thing to experience from immortal life is a simple thing; loneliness. A feeling Louis knew all too well, and how would never feel again. Thèrése wasn’t Lestat. She wasn’t cold, and manipulative. Calculated in every wrong doing. No, Thèrése was kind and gentle. Thoughtful with every word she spoke and every action she took.

Never again would Louis ever have to worry about being alone.

guys this took me like 3 weeks to write I’m obsessed with this show rn. I worked so hard on this so istg if it flops I’ll be so sad 😭🙏

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