Summary: Your love spans across centuries... or whatever the hell that blonde French guy said.
Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt x Time traveler!Reader
Warnings: discussion of incest though not graphic
Present day
"This is such a bad idea, dude." Tough Cookie watches you pack the same way you watch 90 Day Fiancé. With utter fear and complete awe at the stupidity of it all. "He's gonna freak."
"He'll be fine." Though the same may not necessarily be said for anyone in his vicinity. "Just... maybe avoid him for a while."
Her eyes widen. "Oh, this is so fucked."
You press the heel of your palm into your eyes until you see stars. There's a dull throbbing at the base of your skull that stretches up behind your eyes. "Look, I've got stuff I have to do. Like, real life stuff that isn't following my vampire husband and his band around. If you're so scared of Lestat kicking your ass then you're welcome to leave."
"Happily."
TC ditches you before you can even let out an indignant hey! not cool. What a loser. Except not really. She's cool by all accounts and probably a better fit for this whole touring band thing than you are. She's cute and funny and talented and unconcerned with how other people see her. She lives her life to the fullest, without worry or regret. You wish you were like that.
Lestat says she's just fine, but you've overheard him and his mom talking about possibly turning her more than once. Does he think she's cooler than you? Would she be a better vampire companion than you? Does he want you to be more like her?
If that doesn't scream healthy marriage, well, you don't know what does.
"Running off again, bunny?" Armand's voice comes from behind you making you jump.
"Jeez, dude! How did you even get in here?" You try to slow your pounding heart to no avail.
Armand gives you a guilty half-smile. "Would you really like to know?"
"Yeah, good point. What do you want?"
"I would ask you if that's any way to treat an old friend, but you've always blown hot and cold. At times you treat me as your oldest companion while other times I feel like a complete stranger." He says the words like he's trying to figure something out. Like maybe if what happened between the two of you on the tour bus means anything besides you were sad and wanted a feel better fuck.
Well good luck to him.
You don't even have anything figured out.
He does have one thing right though. You're really good at the whole hot and cold thing. Katy Perry wishes she could be you.
"Sorry I'm not offering you tea. I'm a little pressed for time."
"Aren't you always?" He sits on the edge of your bed and riffles through your clothes with an expression of sheer boredom. "Poor bunny, always flitting off from one place to another. Never truly comfortable, never truly resting."
You narrow your eyes. "If there's a point to all this please get to it."
"Never patient," Armand adds. He picks up a particularly racy bra and hangs it off his finger. It feels like a taunt. "Has Lestat seen this one?"
You snatch it from him, shoving it under a couple of shirts. "No and he probably won't for a while."
"Right. Because of your grand escape plan. I'm not as intimately familiar with the ins and outs of time travel, but I am intimately familiar with the ins and outs of your husband. There is nowhere for you to run. Nowhere for you to hide. He will always find you when it suits him."
"Hey, so, why is Daniel pissed off that we fucked? Let's talk about your relationship instead."
Armand watches you, those scary ass eyes of his studying your face like it holds answers to some ancient question. "How much have you seen of our past thus far?"
You don't know why, but you find yourself recounting everything to Armand. From that first concert with Ben to ten minutes ago with TC. You don't leave out anything for fear of... well, you aren't really sure what. It feels nice to unburden yourself though, and Armand is patient as he listens. You can't help but think he's filing away information though, saving it to use against you at some other point. As you start to falter and lose steam, Armand pats the bed beside him.
"I say this for not only your sake, but for all of our sake: Lestat has always and will always love you. You cannot leave him now or we're all doomed."
You blink up at him. "W-what?"
"He listens to you in a way he listens to no other. Convince him to end this tour."
You've been watching Lestat for a while now, listening to what he says when he doesn't speak at all. When his actions are the only thing making noise. He loves music. Truly. Genuinely. The thought of asking him to stop almost physically hurts.
"No," you tell Armand. "I can't do that."
Rage, pure and nasty rage, crosses his face. "Then you understand you've doomed us all?"
Not really, but these are vampire problems and you're a human. Human-ish? Are time travelers a subset of human being? How do you even start to look into that? Lestat mentioned trying to figure it out for you back when you first met, but that was months ago at this point, and it hasn't been brought up since.
You shrug. "I don't understand anything besides I have a degree to try and get back on track between catering to an egotistical vampire rockstar and getting sucked back in time like a Slurpee. Maybe if I beg and cry enough the school will have mercy and let me back in the program. "
"Deflecting as always," is Armand's only response before walking to the door. When he gets there he pauses briefly, turning back around to say one last thing. "You should talk to Lestat about his relationship with his mother."
Okay. Not cryptic at all, thanks Armand.
He passes Lestat on his way out and you cringe, feeling like a kid caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Armand is still a sore spot for both of you. So sore that you havent even tried saying his name since that night for fear of hurting your relationship with Lestat. Lestat who... isn't happy. To put it mildly. His back is completely straight as he takes in the sight on your hotel bed. Clothes haphazardly thrown into a suitcase, shitty souvenirs crammed into whatever crevice you can find, sheets ruffled and smelling like spices where Armand sat.
"His scent is all over you," Lestat says. He's trying to remain calm, but you see the surface crackling like a spiderweb. He's three seconds away from losing his shit. "Why is it all over you?!"
Okay, maybe more like one second.
"Relax," you tell him.
Wrong choice.
"I am relaxed!" Lestat gives you a smile, lips stretching over his fangs and a manic look in his eyes. "I've never been more relaxed! In fact, ma chérie, I'm so relaxed right now we should watch that stupid little show you love so much."
"I have a lot of stupid little shows that I love so-"
"Tell me what Armand wanted!"
You roll your eyes and push past Lestat. "I refuse to do this with you right now. Come find me when you want to treat me like a person and not some doll you own. Okay?"
"I see our evening out listening to the musical stylings of an overrated kpop group made you brave." He follows you down the hall, hot on your trail. "Tell me what Armand wanted."
Your mouth falls open. "Overrated?! Take that back right now!"
"Please, I could do what they do in my sleep."
"No you couldn't. They're professionals, Lestat. Professionals. You're... well, you're you."
"I'm a professional."
"Yeah? Do the Alcohol Free dance."
Lestat stops mid-step, dropping back a bit. There's a look of complete annoyance on his face that makes you think he's about to do it. The man is physically incapable of ignoring a challenge. Excitement and anticipation grow inside your body, leaving room for little else, only to be doused in cold water when Lestat shakes his head.
"Tell me what Armand wanted," he says once again as he moves back to stand just behind you.
You roll your eyes and start walking again.
"He didn't want anything important, I promise. Nothing I'd actually follow through on anyway."
"So there was something."
You stop abruptly and he slams into you, almost knocking you over. "He wants me to convince you to stop with the music. I told him no and he fucked off."
Lestat purses his lips. "You really told him no?"
"Why would I tell him yes? Music makes you happy."
"You make me happy." He tilts his head from side to side. "And music. You and music make me happy."
"And... well, there was one more thing. He told me to ask you about your mom."
Lestat does that little laugh people do when they've been caught lying. That one that's part sigh, part huff of indignation, part oh shit how do I avoid responsibility. There's something else in his laugh though. Fear. He's terrified of whatever Armand wanted you to find out. You watch as his fear grows, his laugh turning into this odd panicked noise.
"Lestat?" You approach him the same way you would a frightened animal. With your hand outstretched and movements slow. "Breathe for me, dude. Come on. Nice deep breaths."
He nods and copies you with only a little reluctance, eyes trained on your mouth like he's unable to meet your eyes.
"What's going on?" You try to keep your tone gentle. "You can tell me anything."
He shakes his head and for the first time ever he's speechless.
"I won't hate you for it. I already know she doesn't like me." A joke but not really. Gabrielle treats you cordially enough despite the undercurrent of malice.
She did try to make you relive your duck trauma after all.
Lestat tries to speak, yet all that comes out is a thin trickle of blood from his mouth and shallow gasps as if he's having an asthma attack. You've never seen a vampire panic before. It isn't pretty.
"Just tell me, dude," you try to plead. "I mean, with the way you're acting I'm starting to think you're sleeping with her."
Another joke.
This one doesn't land either.
Mostly because Lestat drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around you as he apologizes over and over and over. He's dry heaving between words.
"Lestat? Tell me it's not true."
He presses his face to your stomach and you feel his tears wetting your shirt, the fabric sticking to your belly uncomfortably. He keeps apologizing but doesn't actually name the crime, which... you don't know what to think about that. You don't know what to think at all. All this time you spent hoping for an apology from him for how he's treated you, and this is the only thing he actually apologizes for. Everything else was assumed forgiveness, the two of you moving forward even if those two little words never passed either of your lips. You can really only assume he's apologizing for being caught.
"You've been fucking your mom." You force the words out. You make it real. "While we've been together? While I've been here?"
Lestat nods.
Pathetic.
He won't even look at you.
"How many times?" Your stomach churns, burning with acid as Gabrielle's perfume floats down the hall. Jasmine, thick and cloying, suffocating you. "How many times do I have to give up everything for you just to have you fuck me over? How many times am I supposed to let you keep hurting me?"
Lestat finally looks up at you, eyes bleary and lined with red. "You are not the only one always being hurt-"
"Oh, cry me a goddamn river-"
"If I were to list your crimes as you so often list mine we would be here for years passing blame back and forth-"
"At least I'm not fucking my mom-"
"You left me in the pit of confusion and despair-"
"Don't try to blame me for something I can't control-"
"You can control it! I fail to see your reasoning for lying about it, but I allow you to do so-"
"Allow? You allow it?"
You're getting nowhere, going around and around as you pass the blame back and forth, talking over each other the whole time. The worst part is knowing you'll give in. You'll give him what he wants, accept this is just another fucked up thing in your fucked up relationship, and keep following him around like you don't have a life of your own.
Because you're weak.
Pathetic.
"I have to get out of here," you whisper more to yourself than Lestat. "I can't be here. I can't be around you. I can't..."
You shake your head in an effort to rid yourself of the dizziness slowly overtaking you. This isn't happening. This shouldn't be happening. But it is. You can't bare to look at Lestat as you leave, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole in your retreating figure, still on his knees. He tries saying your name. Once, twice, again and again. You still don't turn around.
The night air is cool on your skin though it does nothing to quell the burning inside you. It's not that you thought you could trust Lestat, not exactly, but you thought all the twists and turns were done. At least the modern ones. Maybe when Armand came to visit earlier you should've left with him instead of treating him like an annoyance. You don't think you're particularly safe with him either what with the vampirism and murderous Daniel hanging around. He's been consistent though. The only consistent thing about Lestat has been the lies.
You gotta hand it to him.
He really had you going with the whole "you belong to me" thing.
God, you're a fucking idiot.
You find yourself in a park, the sandy beige sidewalk lit by tall black lamp posts. There are still a ton of people out despite the sun having set hours ago. A lady jogs past you, headphones blaring loud enough for you to hear. It's one of Lestat's songs. Of course it is. You're whole life is a joke, you think as you plop down on a bench. It's one of those ugly ones with the arm rests that are supposed to stop homeless people from sleeping on them.
God, people just fucking suck, don't they? The ones in charge of making these sorts of decisions get to sleep all nice and safe in their king sized beds in their expensive houses while those who are less lucky have to suffer because fate wasn't kind to them.
"Bitter." The man beside you makes a face at the ice cream cone in his hand. You hadn't even noticed him when you sat down.
"Sorry? I'm sure they'd let you swap flavors if you asked nicely."
He holds the cone out to you. "Take it, dear girl. You appear to need it more than I."
"Um..." you take it with a smile that looks more like a grimace. "Thank you."
"Such manners." His grin is downright wolfish, sharp canines drawing your eye immediately. A vampire.
Fuck.
Is it something in your blood that attracts these assholes? Like that protein or whatever that makes you more likely to get bit by mosquitos, is there something in your DNA that calls out to vampires?
"I find the youth of this century to be lacking in many unfortunate ways," he continues. "Perhaps if more were like you all hope would not be lost."
"That's grim." Sure, you were being a buzz kill a second ago, but that was in your own head.
"The world is grim," he responds, eyes traveling over to the hotel you just exited. "Tell me, are you familiar with the name Akasha?"
"No, but let me guess. She knows me?"
"Oh, dear girl, the Queen has been waiting for you." He stands and offers his hand out to you. "My name is Marius de Romanus and I have been sent to retrieve you."
Summary: Your love spans across centuries... or whatever the hell that blonde French guy said.
Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt x Time traveler!Reader
Warnings: discussion of incest though not graphic
Present day
"This is such a bad idea, dude." Tough Cookie watches you pack the same way you watch 90 Day Fiancé. With utter fear and complete awe at the stupidity of it all. "He's gonna freak."
"He'll be fine." Though the same may not necessarily be said for anyone in his vicinity. "Just... maybe avoid him for a while."
Her eyes widen. "Oh, this is so fucked."
You press the heel of your palm into your eyes until you see stars. There's a dull throbbing at the base of your skull that stretches up behind your eyes. "Look, I've got stuff I have to do. Like, real life stuff that isn't following my vampire husband and his band around. If you're so scared of Lestat kicking your ass then you're welcome to leave."
"Happily."
TC ditches you before you can even let out an indignant hey! not cool. What a loser. Except not really. She's cool by all accounts and probably a better fit for this whole touring band thing than you are. She's cute and funny and talented and unconcerned with how other people see her. She lives her life to the fullest, without worry or regret. You wish you were like that.
Lestat says she's just fine, but you've overheard him and his mom talking about possibly turning her more than once. Does he think she's cooler than you? Would she be a better vampire companion than you? Does he want you to be more like her?
If that doesn't scream healthy marriage, well, you don't know what does.
"Running off again, bunny?" Armand's voice comes from behind you making you jump.
"Jeez, dude! How did you even get in here?" You try to slow your pounding heart to no avail.
Armand gives you a guilty half-smile. "Would you really like to know?"
"Yeah, good point. What do you want?"
"I would ask you if that's any way to treat an old friend, but you've always blown hot and cold. At times you treat me as your oldest companion while other times I feel like a complete stranger." He says the words like he's trying to figure something out. Like maybe if what happened between the two of you on the tour bus means anything besides you were sad and wanted a feel better fuck.
Well good luck to him.
You don't even have anything figured out.
He does have one thing right though. You're really good at the whole hot and cold thing. Katy Perry wishes she could be you.
"Sorry I'm not offering you tea. I'm a little pressed for time."
"Aren't you always?" He sits on the edge of your bed and riffles through your clothes with an expression of sheer boredom. "Poor bunny, always flitting off from one place to another. Never truly comfortable, never truly resting."
You narrow your eyes. "If there's a point to all this please get to it."
"Never patient," Armand adds. He picks up a particularly racy bra and hangs it off his finger. It feels like a taunt. "Has Lestat seen this one?"
You snatch it from him, shoving it under a couple of shirts. "No and he probably won't for a while."
"Right. Because of your grand escape plan. I'm not as intimately familiar with the ins and outs of time travel, but I am intimately familiar with the ins and outs of your husband. There is nowhere for you to run. Nowhere for you to hide. He will always find you when it suits him."
"Hey, so, why is Daniel pissed off that we fucked? Let's talk about your relationship instead."
Armand watches you, those scary ass eyes of his studying your face like it holds answers to some ancient question. "How much have you seen of our past thus far?"
You don't know why, but you find yourself recounting everything to Armand. From that first concert with Ben to ten minutes ago with TC. You don't leave out anything for fear of... well, you aren't really sure what. It feels nice to unburden yourself though, and Armand is patient as he listens. You can't help but think he's filing away information though, saving it to use against you at some other point. As you start to falter and lose steam, Armand pats the bed beside him.
"I say this for not only your sake, but for all of our sake: Lestat has always and will always love you. You cannot leave him now or we're all doomed."
You blink up at him. "W-what?"
"He listens to you in a way he listens to no other. Convince him to end this tour."
You've been watching Lestat for a while now, listening to what he says when he doesn't speak at all. When his actions are the only thing making noise. He loves music. Truly. Genuinely. The thought of asking him to stop almost physically hurts.
"No," you tell Armand. "I can't do that."
Rage, pure and nasty rage, crosses his face. "Then you understand you've doomed us all?"
Not really, but these are vampire problems and you're a human. Human-ish? Are time travelers a subset of human being? How do you even start to look into that? Lestat mentioned trying to figure it out for you back when you first met, but that was months ago at this point, and it hasn't been brought up since.
You shrug. "I don't understand anything besides I have a degree to try and get back on track between catering to an egotistical vampire rockstar and getting sucked back in time like a Slurpee. Maybe if I beg and cry enough the school will have mercy and let me back in the program. "
"Deflecting as always," is Armand's only response before walking to the door. When he gets there he pauses briefly, turning back around to say one last thing. "You should talk to Lestat about his relationship with his mother."
Okay. Not cryptic at all, thanks Armand.
He passes Lestat on his way out and you cringe, feeling like a kid caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Armand is still a sore spot for both of you. So sore that you havent even tried saying his name since that night for fear of hurting your relationship with Lestat. Lestat who... isn't happy. To put it mildly. His back is completely straight as he takes in the sight on your hotel bed. Clothes haphazardly thrown into a suitcase, shitty souvenirs crammed into whatever crevice you can find, sheets ruffled and smelling like spices where Armand sat.
"His scent is all over you," Lestat says. He's trying to remain calm, but you see the surface crackling like a spiderweb. He's three seconds away from losing his shit. "Why is it all over you?!"
Okay, maybe more like one second.
"Relax," you tell him.
Wrong choice.
"I am relaxed!" Lestat gives you a smile, lips stretching over his fangs and a manic look in his eyes. "I've never been more relaxed! In fact, ma chérie, I'm so relaxed right now we should watch that stupid little show you love so much."
"I have a lot of stupid little shows that I love so-"
"Tell me what Armand wanted!"
You roll your eyes and push past Lestat. "I refuse to do this with you right now. Come find me when you want to treat me like a person and not some doll you own. Okay?"
"I see our evening out listening to the musical stylings of an overrated kpop group made you brave." He follows you down the hall, hot on your trail. "Tell me what Armand wanted."
Your mouth falls open. "Overrated?! Take that back right now!"
"Please, I could do what they do in my sleep."
"No you couldn't. They're professionals, Lestat. Professionals. You're... well, you're you."
"I'm a professional."
"Yeah? Do the Alcohol Free dance."
Lestat stops mid-step, dropping back a bit. There's a look of complete annoyance on his face that makes you think he's about to do it. The man is physically incapable of ignoring a challenge. Excitement and anticipation grow inside your body, leaving room for little else, only to be doused in cold water when Lestat shakes his head.
"Tell me what Armand wanted," he says once again as he moves back to stand just behind you.
You roll your eyes and start walking again.
"He didn't want anything important, I promise. Nothing I'd actually follow through on anyway."
"So there was something."
You stop abruptly and he slams into you, almost knocking you over. "He wants me to convince you to stop with the music. I told him no and he fucked off."
Lestat purses his lips. "You really told him no?"
"Why would I tell him yes? Music makes you happy."
"You make me happy." He tilts his head from side to side. "And music. You and music make me happy."
"And... well, there was one more thing. He told me to ask you about your mom."
Lestat does that little laugh people do when they've been caught lying. That one that's part sigh, part huff of indignation, part oh shit how do I avoid responsibility. There's something else in his laugh though. Fear. He's terrified of whatever Armand wanted you to find out. You watch as his fear grows, his laugh turning into this odd panicked noise.
"Lestat?" You approach him the same way you would a frightened animal. With your hand outstretched and movements slow. "Breathe for me, dude. Come on. Nice deep breaths."
He nods and copies you with only a little reluctance, eyes trained on your mouth like he's unable to meet your eyes.
"What's going on?" You try to keep your tone gentle. "You can tell me anything."
He shakes his head and for the first time ever he's speechless.
"I won't hate you for it. I already know she doesn't like me." A joke but not really. Gabrielle treats you cordially enough despite the undercurrent of malice.
She did try to make you relive your duck trauma after all.
Lestat tries to speak, yet all that comes out is a thin trickle of blood from his mouth and shallow gasps as if he's having an asthma attack. You've never seen a vampire panic before. It isn't pretty.
"Just tell me, dude," you try to plead. "I mean, with the way you're acting I'm starting to think you're sleeping with her."
Another joke.
This one doesn't land either.
Mostly because Lestat drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around you as he apologizes over and over and over. He's dry heaving between words.
"Lestat? Tell me it's not true."
He presses his face to your stomach and you feel his tears wetting your shirt, the fabric sticking to your belly uncomfortably. He keeps apologizing but doesn't actually name the crime, which... you don't know what to think about that. You don't know what to think at all. All this time you spent hoping for an apology from him for how he's treated you, and this is the only thing he actually apologizes for. Everything else was assumed forgiveness, the two of you moving forward even if those two little words never passed either of your lips. You can really only assume he's apologizing for being caught.
"You've been fucking your mom." You force the words out. You make it real. "While we've been together? While I've been here?"
Lestat nods.
Pathetic.
He won't even look at you.
"How many times?" Your stomach churns, burning with acid as Gabrielle's perfume floats down the hall. Jasmine, thick and cloying, suffocating you. "How many times do I have to give up everything for you just to have you fuck me over? How many times am I supposed to let you keep hurting me?"
Lestat finally looks up at you, eyes bleary and lined with red. "You are not the only one always being hurt-"
"Oh, cry me a goddamn river-"
"If I were to list your crimes as you so often list mine we would be here for years passing blame back and forth-"
"At least I'm not fucking my mom-"
"You left me in the pit of confusion and despair-"
"Don't try to blame me for something I can't control-"
"You can control it! I fail to see your reasoning for lying about it, but I allow you to do so-"
"Allow? You allow it?"
You're getting nowhere, going around and around as you pass the blame back and forth, talking over each other the whole time. The worst part is knowing you'll give in. You'll give him what he wants, accept this is just another fucked up thing in your fucked up relationship, and keep following him around like you don't have a life of your own.
Because you're weak.
Pathetic.
"I have to get out of here," you whisper more to yourself than Lestat. "I can't be here. I can't be around you. I can't..."
You shake your head in an effort to rid yourself of the dizziness slowly overtaking you. This isn't happening. This shouldn't be happening. But it is. You can't bare to look at Lestat as you leave, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole in your retreating figure, still on his knees. He tries saying your name. Once, twice, again and again. You still don't turn around.
The night air is cool on your skin though it does nothing to quell the burning inside you. It's not that you thought you could trust Lestat, not exactly, but you thought all the twists and turns were done. At least the modern ones. Maybe when Armand came to visit earlier you should've left with him instead of treating him like an annoyance. You don't think you're particularly safe with him either what with the vampirism and murderous Daniel hanging around. He's been consistent though. The only consistent thing about Lestat has been the lies.
You gotta hand it to him.
He really had you going with the whole "you belong to me" thing.
God, you're a fucking idiot.
You find yourself in a park, the sandy beige sidewalk lit by tall black lamp posts. There are still a ton of people out despite the sun having set hours ago. A lady jogs past you, headphones blaring loud enough for you to hear. It's one of Lestat's songs. Of course it is. You're whole life is a joke, you think as you plop down on a bench. It's one of those ugly ones with the arm rests that are supposed to stop homeless people from sleeping on them.
God, people just fucking suck, don't they? The ones in charge of making these sorts of decisions get to sleep all nice and safe in their king sized beds in their expensive houses while those who are less lucky have to suffer because fate wasn't kind to them.
"Bitter." The man beside you makes a face at the ice cream cone in his hand. You hadn't even noticed him when you sat down.
"Sorry? I'm sure they'd let you swap flavors if you asked nicely."
He holds the cone out to you. "Take it, dear girl. You appear to need it more than I."
"Um..." you take it with a smile that looks more like a grimace. "Thank you."
"Such manners." His grin is downright wolfish, sharp canines drawing your eye immediately. A vampire.
Fuck.
Is it something in your blood that attracts these assholes? Like that protein or whatever that makes you more likely to get bit by mosquitos, is there something in your DNA that calls out to vampires?
"I find the youth of this century to be lacking in many unfortunate ways," he continues. "Perhaps if more were like you all hope would not be lost."
"That's grim." Sure, you were being a buzz kill a second ago, but that was in your own head.
"The world is grim," he responds, eyes traveling over to the hotel you just exited. "Tell me, are you familiar with the name Akasha?"
"No, but let me guess. She knows me?"
"Oh, dear girl, the Queen has been waiting for you." He stands and offers his hand out to you. "My name is Marius de Romanus and I have been sent to retrieve you."
the way the girls cried this episode is genuinely keeping me up at night, my heart genuinely hurts for them.
Ladies who come across this post, remember this:
A man who makes you cry this much over him is never a man that’s worth it. A man who deserves your heart will NEVER make you cry like this. The only tears you will cry over a man who deserves your love are tears of pure and unfathomable joy, nothing else.
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
janainaart
germansingergirl
