Beatrice's imagines

[lxvvie]

I kinda wanna see ghost fall apart under reader’s eager hands to the point it feels like he’s losing his mind. Like something about him gots them going at him more than usual, almost like cuteness aggression but on his dick 🤔 marking his chest and throat up with love bites and hickeys, pawing at his hips and thighs, feeling up on his biceps, kissing all over his face and so on

Oh, and doesn't he fall apart.

It's sensory overload. You're running your fingertips over every available expanse of skin, you're kissing and licking the most sensitive areas on his chest and throat, leaving him flustered, and you're milking his hard cock for everything it's worth.

Fuck.

Simon's fuckin' losing it, making sounds he never thought possible, wanting you to fuck him so much he can't even think straight the next day, and Christ, he's fighting like hell not to come because he wants this to last as much as humanly possible.

And he's vocal. Vocal and blabbering and needy and fuck fUCk FUCK.

"Hah... Heh heh—Bloody fu—" Simon's whimpering, he's laughing, and it's too much. It's too bloody much.

It's not fuckin' enough.

"Fuck me. Fuck me silly, sweetheart—Christ, don't st—Heh. Heh heh—Shit."

And you do. So much for trying to last as long as possible. Goddamn.

[shotmrmiller]

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

[geneviveleocardius-deactivated2]

simon “ghost” riley taking care of you on your period

i’m on my period babes, i’m dying

he’s soft on you on those days

simon notices the signs before you do—your mood shifts, the way you hold your stomach, the sudden craving for sweets—and starts preparing without a word.

he isn’t the most verbal about it, but his actions scream i’m here for you. your favorite snacks appear on the counter, a heating pad is plugged in, and there’s a cozy blanket waiting on the couch.

he’s surprisingly patient when you’re irritable. if you snap at him, his first instinct is to check if you’re okay rather than react. he’ll raise an eyebrow, give you a soft, knowing look, and say something like, “feeling rough, love?” his tone is gentle, never teasing, and he makes sure you know he’s not taking it personally.

if your cramps are bad, he’ll sit behind you, pulling you close against his chest, his large hands resting on your stomach to rub gentle circles over the ache. his touch is warm, grounding, and it works better than the painkillers.

simon doesn’t shy away from talking about it, either. if you need him to grab something for you at the store, he’ll do it without hesitation, though he might tease you just a bit when he gets back: “thought about getting the whole aisle while i was there.”

he’s more attentive than usual, paying close attention to what you need. whether it’s water, tea, or just some space, he’s always a step ahead.

“you don’t need to tough it out, love,” he’ll remind you when you try to act like the pain isn’t bothering you. “let me help.”

if you’re in the mood for comfort, he’ll sit with you through whatever you want to watch, even if it’s something he’d usually complain about. he’s quieter during this time, more affectionate, more present.

simon’s teasing doesn’t stop entirely, though—it’s his way of keeping things light. when he sees you curled up in bed, he’ll smirk and say something like, “the queen demands chocolate again?” but he always follows through.

at the end of the day, his priority is making sure you feel cared for. he might not always say it, but the warmth in his eyes and the way he handles everything so effortlessly tells you exactly how much he loves you.

[parkersbliss]

simon riley who’s never really been big on words. who would much rather express himself through his actions. the kind of guy that would do it himself, if it meant it was done right

simon riley who doesn’t ask you to move, just moves you for himself

simon riley who’s hands find your hips to squeeze past you, who’s hand pushes on your shoulders to just grab something. his gloved hand rests on the small of your back, warmth evident even through your shirt and his glove as he guides you around him. you'll have to excuse him, luv, he's a big guy.

simon riley who finds it much easier to guide you then to say anything. see that glare coming from the rooftop? no? don't fret, he's got a hand on your shoulder, back pressed against yours and whispering in your ear. if you'll just tilt that rifle to the left -- ah, perfect, luv. see him now?

simon riley who’s hands on your hips last a bit longer than necessary. he’s just gonna squeeze right past you, yeah? oh sorry, he got confused and give your hips a squeeze in the process. you’re a little too caught up in conversation to notice him? no biggie, warms hands find your shoulders moving you just a tad for his frame to move past. and what's that? you're sorry you didn't see him? no, don't apologize, luv. he'll move you as needed, you make it so easy anyway.

simon riley who all but manhandles you, and you know what? you don't mind. not when his hands are so warm, igniting an inferno within you that has you spiraling down a path of thoughts about your Lt that could get you apprehended.

simon riley who's small touches and easy maneuvering of you has your head spinning with other ideas. it was so easy to move you, luv. and wouldn't it be nice to grab you and throw you on the bed? flip you over, ass up or maybe bend you over the counter. he could take you in any position, fold you into any and really, you're not gonna complain, just like you don't now. not with his gentle touch.

it's too bad you won't make the first move and let him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

masterlist

[beebymoonlight]

there's only one rule with them--you have to be included, lest you give simon those big eyes that he absolutely fucking despises. (ghoap x f!reader, 18+)

you can't help it, really. you like being the center of attention. no--you need to be the center of attention.

their attention.

even when you're too fucked out to go any longer, someone has to be paying attention to you. simon has found that even when he's too occupied making johnny's eyes roll back in his head, a firm hand tangled in your hair is enough to keep you smiling all lopsided and ooey-gooey warm. a thumb in your mouth, lips against your temple, just a soft touch is good enough to keep you from blinking up at simon all wet and soft-like.

simon even found out that you have a sixth-sense for knowing if simon touched his sergeant when they were deployed. coming through the door, just seeing them, that pretty bottom lip trembling when you meet johnny's eyes because you just know something happened without you.

it's not that you're jealous. it's not that you don't approve. simon knows you're just so delicate. so sweet. you want to be included and noticed, because no one ever had noticed you at all before them, and you just hate feeling left out. you want to know everything about them, and when something happens without you, you feel like you're missing a special piece of them, and it makes your heart drop into your stomach.

"none of tha'," simon says lowly when he sees your eyes well up, all watery and big.

"i'm sorry--" you whine. it takes johnny between your thighs for a full hour before simon sees you crack a smile again.

simon comes up with a nice solution. he doesn't want to see his perfect girl upset anymore. he won't have it any longer. it isn't allowed.

you put the phone to your ear. it's late, and you're a bit sleepy, but with the ringer on full volume, you're always ready to answer the phone.

"h-hello?"

"'ello, baby." your eyes flutter open at the sound of simon's low drawl, and you giggle sleepily. "oi, wot's so funny?"

"nothing," you whisper. "i miss you."

"i miss you more," simon hums. you hear shuffling in the background, a grunt accompanied by a hiss. "say 'ello to our pretty kitty, johnny."

there's some static, and then you hear panting. a gargled cry sounds, one you recognize, and you grip the phone tight as you stare up at the ceiling. you roll over in a bed that's much too big for just you, and you whine a little.

"j-johnny?"

"fuck--ngghh--'m thinkin' aboot yer pussy, bonnie, lemme 'ear it."

you squeeze your thighs together on instinct. you reach for the pillow next to you, the one that still smells like simon, and you bury your nose into it and whine when you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin.

"lemme 'ear it, willnae come unless--"

"johnny," you mewl, sticking your hand under the shirt you wear. it's simon's (the only shirt that fits over your tits), but you're bare underneath, so it takes you no time at all to break open your thighs and stick your hand between your folds. you don't even go for foreplay; there's no need. you are wet enough to dip your fingers just barely into yourself, scooping up a nice amount of slick and spreading it around, frantic enough that when you put the phone on speaker, the slip, slip, slip of your fingers is audible on the other end.

"och--si, she's...aye, she's soaking."

"tha's my girl."

"come...g-gonna come," you stutter, and johnny groans.

"need ye on my face, kitty cat," he pants, "lemme 'ear, closer, bonnie, get me closer--"

you lower the phone down your body, moving your fingers faster, your toes curling as you arch your back and listen to the wet smack, smack, smack of what you know is simon putting his fucking back into it. his groans follow the movements. simon is always a little rougher with his sergeant, always murmuring about how he can take it, not so sweet like our daisy baby.

"coming!" you gasp, and you press the heel of your hand against your clit as you breathe through your orgasm. so fast this time, hitting you from your toes and traveling all the way up, until your nipples pebble and your heart hammers. you bring the phone back up and bask in the glow of it, giggling dreamily as you listen to simon absolutely ruin your sergeant. skin on skin, nasty grunts and filthy curses, hissing and the sounds of things falling over and breaking. you pocket it for later and memorize it now, cooing softly when you know johnny is close.

you talk him until you hear him come, and then you tell simon to eat it off his gloved fingers for you.

"goodnight, kitty cat."

you smile.

"goodnight."

when they come home again, there you are, seated in the kitchen, all big smiles and soft eyes. simon touches a finger under your chin, and you blink up at him.

"olright?" simon asks, and you nod, picking up his other hand to kiss his knuckles.

"perfect."

[secretlovezz]

First kiss with Tf-141 (& König)

♡-Simon "Ghost" Riley

He's so gentle like he's worried the touch of his calloused hands on the skin of your heated cheeks would break you

His face leans towards yours slowly so slowly it makes you want to pull his lips to yours so you can finally feel him but you let him take his time not wanting to push him

His nose is brushing yours and you lean forward on your toes to try and reach him but he he pulls back a little and your eyebrows furrow

"Can I kiss you?" He ask and it almost makes you laugh but instead you smile and beam up at him the corners of your eyes crinkling with happiness

You whisper, "yes," and you swear you've never seen the man move faster; his lips are on yours so quickly you just have to giggle the sound making Simon's heart ache with a force he's never felt before

Your lips interlock and move against each other and your tongue licks into his mouth and he makes a sound that has him pulling away and hiding his face into the crook of your neck

You laugh and he nips at your skin in an act of protest

He lifts his head once more to leave a wet peck against your lips and your already big smile grows impossibly bigger

¤—————————》

♡-John Price

He's also very gentle but he's subconsciously a little more desperate than Simon

He doesn't mean to press his lips to yours as quickly as he does but he has been waiting for this moment

He's been waiting to have you alone like this, been waiting for the affections to fall from your lips to give him a reason to break all protocol

John is prideful in his expertise in being patient but when he's with you he's the most impatient

So when he slotted his lips against yours in the middle of you telling him something after staring at your lips the entire time he surprises himself

But when you kiss him back he's no longer worried about his momentary impulsiveness

He makes haste in grabbing the back of your thighs to lift you onto his desk; your hands are tangling his short hair flipping his hat off of his head

He pulls apart after a few moments letting his forehead rest against your chuckling before placing a few wet peck against your now swollen lips

¤—————————》

♡-Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle kisses you softly oh so softly just to feel you against him

His lips meet yours Once, and twice in fleeting presses before pulling away and looking at you just looking at you

It's his favorite thing to do, to watch his pretty girl

He smiles when your brows furrow and when your lips downturn into a cute pout

You were so cute

Your stare into his silently pleading for another, longer kiss from him

You move onto your tip-toes trying to reach him but he pulls away and you whine loudly in frustration, he lets out a chuckle that's so sweet sounding it almost makes your knees buckle

Please? You whisper

Kyle's moving one of his hands to the back of your neck while his other travels down to your waist

He pulls you into your next kiss, your first real kiss with him

Your lips are so soft against him, so fucking perfect against his harsh ones that it makes him groan into your mouth, hands trying to pull you even closer to him

You just about whimper in response and pull away giggling

He continues to kiss you, his full lips planting themselves against your neck (he leaves a mark or two), a big grin never leaving his face

¤—————————》

♡-John "Soap" McTavish

God Johnny is desperate

He just needs you so bad, needs to finally feel your perfect lips against his, he swears it is all he's been able to think about lately

He tries to be casual, tries to be smooth about his need to kiss you but when you start inching your body closer to him his breath hitches and his heart beats a little faster

He gasps then smirks when you link your fingers into his belt loops and pull him forward letting your bodies collide

Your nose brushes against his and you rub your noses together for a moment just taking in this intimate moment with the man you care deeply about

But his hands are moving fast when they set on either side of your head pulling your lips to his feverishly

Johnny's lips move fast against your own, his tongue licking into your mouth

You try your best to keep up, just as desperate as he is

You laugh against his mouth when one of his large calloused hands gravitate towards your ass

When you separate he rests his head in the crook of your neck mumbling about how beautiful he thinks you are and how perfect you are for him

¤—————————》

♡-König

I like to imagine he'd be soft like Simon in a moment like this

He just wants to be near you just wants to hold you close

Every once in a while he'll press a gentle kiss to the top of your head or temple as the two of you sway to a slow song and mumble a sweet endearment in his native language, something about how lovely he thinks you are

His large hands are holding yours pressing the backs of them against his cheeks -his face is cold, it always is- and he presses a kiss to one of your knuckles

His kiss travels to your wrist them to the inside of your elbow then to your shoulder before he finally makes it to your cheek

He's overwhelmed with love, the way you smile at him makes his heart leap and he can't help but place his lips on yours

It's soft and slow just like the song just like that way the two of you are dancing and it's perfect

He hugs you when you part, still swaying to the beat of the song while he hums against the side of your face, your cheek pressed against his so you could feel the vibration

He places one more kiss on the warmth of your skin

[guppybibi]

The first time they say "I love you" ᯓᡣ𐭩

ft. | Simon & Johnny

Simon honestly blurted it out unintentionally one day. You told him you needed some company and assistance while grocery shopping and he happily agrees. He watches intently as you struggled to pick a shampoo, you hold out two bottles with one having a raspberry scent and the other having blueberry. It reminded him of the domesticity he never knew he craved so much so that he replies with an "I love you"

"Um..that- wasn't one of the options, Simon.." You mumble awkwardly, acting like you didn't hear him say the 3 forbidden words..Your reddish face says the story otherwise though. Well Simon does manage to recollect himself and shrug it off. "Yeah..I think raspberry smells nice."

...He slips up again soon enough.

Johnny has said it before numerous times, platonically though. But this time was different, the difference being awfully obvious for comfort that it makes you wonder that maybe he meant it. You and Johnny are on another one of your silly hangouts, might as well make most of the time while he isn't on a mission. A red gingham mat laying under you two as it threatened to slip away and be one with the wind, and some grilled cheese in hand that you almost burned since you were in a rush definitely set the mood.

It was..peaceful. The two of you sitting in silence while sloppily munching on the sandwiches, Johnny found it silly honestly, who knew that your friendship would progress to the point that you didn't care how shamelessly you ate in front of each other? For Johnny, it's the little things that make friendships..a little more than that. He's so distracted by the sight of you messily chewing that he just slips and mentions a "I think I love you.." and it was painfully clear that it's not like any of the other "I love you's" he had said before.

You practically almost choke when you heard that, it was apparent that he meant it wholeheartedly. It sounded a lot more raw, truer than you'd ever expect. And maybe it's not a bad thing when you reply with "I think I do too."

[ch3rrybbie]

Get free

Ghoap x reader oneshot

Warnings: angst, death, smut allusions.

Summary: out of the black into the blue.

The jeep shook you as it sped down the dirt road.

A hot summers night, somewhere.

It didn’t matter where. What mattered was that this was where you were slipping.

The stench of dust and iron lay taught in the air as you were tossed between Soap and Ghost.

A rock and a hard place.

Your fingers were all you could focus on, ignoring Price and Gaz in the front checking on you every so often.

Ignoring that was all any of them could do.

Fingers numb and dulling, you felt barely able to feel the wound in your side.

You start to sag further in your seat, only to be dragged up by your tactical jacket.

Ghost.

“You’re fine, sit up straight” he commands fear tinging his bite.

You laugh delirious, he sure did pick his moments to show he cared.

He did’t show you he cared when he made you run 50 laps for laughing. He didn’t show he cared when he asked Price to bar you from a mission for carelessness. He didn’t show he cared all those times you were in the med bay. He didn’t show he cared when he slipped from your room underthe crest of night. Leaving you sweat licked and teary.

It was your turn to leave him.

Soap licks your wounds, stroking your matted hair. At least there would be comfort in these last moments.

Soap always showed he cared.

It was like he couldn’t help it.

Always five paces behind. Hand always a caress apart. Always running beside you. Always shouting for you.

Lips pressed tight to you, swallowing doubts.

You were floating, light as air. Head swimming in delirium. Thick chuckles vibrate through you.

They all turn to stare each wearing an expression worse than the last.

A nymph amongst the dammed. A saint amongst sinners. The dead were always the holiest. You would be martyred.

Being the only woman in 141 had never given you any grace. Never meant differential treatment in the wounds shared. If it’d been anyone else in your seat the same glances would be shared.

But this meant you would be absolved of the awful things you all did.

Where would you go? What world awaited you?

Sleep nudged at your heavy soul.

You were a child again, sleeping softly against your mother. A drama playing on the TV, lulling you into the quiet.

What did Ghost care anyways, you tired of this back and forth. Of this life. Missions and gore and blood and running and killing.

For what?

You let your hand slip from you wound. Spite taking your hand and kissing it in praise.

Fuck Ghost.

You didn’t need to say anything, any goodbyes or I love yous could be imagined or there.

What did you care.

They knew you.

They knew you.

So you lean against Johnny, allowing yourself this small comfort. Hand, bloodied and limp falling against Simon’s thigh.

He grips it harshly and attempts to stem the wild blood flow running from you.

You can’t hear his barks anymore.

Eyes closed you tune into the soft strokes of Johnny’s hand. His soft touch calls you in the way he does, soft pats of ‘lassie’ and ‘Bonnie’ soothe false fears once again.

———

Johnny does what Simon never could, accept.

You can’t breathe life into a wilting flower as his mother would say. She would’ve loved you, he thinks.

He knows.

Johnny was selfless as always he would give comfort to you, no matter how much it hurt. He feels you soften and still, not daring to check,he looks to Simon’s frantic movements.

———

Simon was selfish in his wanting. Hands bloodied he attempts to animate you. Perhaps his pushing and pulling will respark your heart and put wind in your lungs. Perhaps not, and yet he persists. He wants you come come back and kill him, to drown him in your blood and drag him with you like some wrathful harpy.

Come back and hate me. Come back and kill me.

———

Ch3rrybbie says: sorry the ghoap x reader fixation made me write this will try get requests out asap, this got me out of the writing slump lol.

[kirby-derb-deactivated20250422]

The sound of boots pounding against concrete echoed in the night as you and Simon sprinted across the rooftop. The city lights glowed dimly beneath the thick fog, casting long shadows across your path. The group of assassins chasing you wasn’t far behind, their voices barking orders through the air like hunting dogs closing in on their prey.

Simon glanced back, his face set in a grim mask. "Keep moving!" he barked, his deep voice cutting through your growing fatigue.

Ahead, a gap between the buildings yawned wide, an alleyway that seemed impossibly vast. Simon didn’t hesitate. With a powerful leap, he cleared the chasm, landing solidly on the opposite roof. He rolled to absorb the impact, then scrambled to his feet, immediately turning back to you.

“Come on!” he shouted, holding out a hand.

Your chest heaved, every muscle in your legs screaming from exertion. You pushed yourself harder, barreling toward the edge. But as you launched yourself into the air, Simon’s eyes widened. You weren’t going to make it.

“Damn it.” he growled. Without hesitation, he grabbed the rope he’d secured moments earlier to a vent pipe and dove back toward the gap, swinging down to meet you mid-air.

Your stomach flipped as you realized he wasn’t on solid ground anymore, his arms reaching out like a lifeline. Gravity yanked you downward, but then his hands caught your wrist, iron-strong and unyielding.

“I’ve got you!” he grunted, his muscles straining as the rope swung the two of you into the side of the building.

Your breath hitched as you dangled, the city spinning below. “Simon!”

“Don’t look down!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. His grip tightened as he wrapped the rope around his other arm, bracing himself.

The pipe groaned above, the weight of you both testing its limits. Simon's face was inches from yours, his dark eyes blazing with determination. “You’re not slipping out of this,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the tension in the air.

With a grunt, he began pulling you up, every movement controlled and deliberate. It felt like an eternity before he finally hoisted you up onto his chest, anchoring you with one arm as he maneuvered the rope.

“Hold on to me,” he ordered.

You clung to him as he climbed back up, his strength almost superhuman as he dragged the two of you onto the roof. When you were finally on solid ground, he collapsed beside you, both of you gasping for breath.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the adrenaline crashing hard. Then Simon turned his head toward you, his mask partially askew, revealing the sharp line of his jaw.

“You ever scare me like that again,” he rasped, no daring to sit up just yet, “and I’ll kill you myself.”

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “Noted.”

His gaze softened as he reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I mean it,” he murmured, quieter now.

“I didn’t plan on it,” you replied, your voice trembling.

He nodded once, then helped you to your feet. “Good,” he said, his tone gruff but his actions gentle. “Now let’s get out of here.”

(THIS FUCKING SCENE THIS THIS THING??? IN MY BRAIN FOR WEEKS.) Anyway, any feedback or anything like that you got I would be super duper thankful for. I'm not new to Tumblr but I am to the writing and posting part, so truly, feedback means sooooo much! BYEEEE

[ceilidho]

'STILL WAKES THE DEEP' AU | MASTERLIST

SOAP x READER

You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works.

Or: scenes from the 'Still Wakes the Deep' au

a collaboration between @bi-writes and @ceilidho

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, Deep Sea Creature, Eldritch Monster, Minor Character Death, AFAB reader, TBA

First Meeting Warning Signs Trouble Brewing Something in the Water

Extras

Initial posts (1, 2) Series moodboard

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being Lestat’s soulmate, but almost total opposite.

“Why do you read these … books so much?” Lestat said, taking off his jacket with a flourish and laying it down onto the end of the bench that you were lounging on. You pressed the tip of your index finger to the spot that you were just finishing, and looked at him with amusement.

You were the introverted soul out of this couple. You preferred to spend your time in the chateau, to read through the books that he often bought and only read ten pages of before becoming bored and heading out to mentally torment some poor souls. You bettered yourself while he, as he put it, bettered the world by being out in it.

“I’m learning about the stars, Lestat. Since we are so well acquainted, I might as well get to know them,” You said, smiling.

“It’s about time you get your head out of these books and pay attention to more important things, my love. You’ll start to get strange ideas if you keep up with this.” Lestat said, his lower lip jutting out every so slightly. Jealous of a book. Of course he was. Lestat really did become envious of anything that took your attention away from him.

“I’m reading about Leo,” You continued, not letting him get you down. “One of the largest constellations. A magnificent lion. He reminds me of you. I don’t think it’s just the hair.”

“A magnificent lion?” He repeated after you, and didn’t seem opposed to the idea. Instead, you started to crawl along the bench, on his hands and his knees, his form moving much like the animal that you were speaking out. He came in closer, and sunk his teeth, fangs and all, into the book, ripping it from your hand and spat it out onto the cushioned floor. “Perhaps not all of the ideas are bad ones after all…”

Requested by: Anonymous And yes, this was inspired by Gaston.

[madnessr]

Reunited Chapter 1

Summary: 300 years had passed since 1725, where three vampires had lost the only thing that mattered to them. Now in the year 2025, they are reunited with the one person they cannot lose again.

A poly Lestat, Louis, and Armand x Reader relationship

Warnings: Slight gore, cursing, mild angst

Word Count: 5k

Here it is guys! The first chapter to this series. Please let me know what you think, your comments make my day!

Masterlist

The Queen Mary, a ship built alongside the RMS Queen Elizabeth, was constructed to express service between Southampton, Cherbourg, and New York. The intention was to provide competition to super-liners built by European companies in the late 1920s. However, by 1965 the Queen Mary was no longer profitable and soon retired in 1967, retiring in December on the shores of Long Beach, California. 

All of this happened 31 years before you were even born, the notorious ship now growing roots against the harbor, nourishing a reputation for being hunted and cursed. Attracting self-proclaimed ghost hunters and other psychics to try and connect to the ship's past. 

But winds were changing, and in early January of 2023, the descents of Cunard White Star, the original owner of the Queen Mary, announced a revival. A luxurious experience reliving the thrills of the 1920s, promising to carry the Queen Marry across the oceans once more for a final and elegant vacation for anyone who wanted to set sail on history, departing from California and arriving in Italy. 

Social media and dedicated Queen Mary fans went wild over this news, claiming this could be the next generation of the Titanic, while paranormal enthusiasts couldn't wait to explore the ship for longer than just a night. However, you, along with many others, saw the announcement for what it actually was, a job opportunity. 

Inflation being at an all-time high since the 1980s, you, along with 63 percent of Americans who are also living paycheck to paycheck, could use the extra cash, a place to stay was a given, no matter how small the staff rooms would be on the ship, you wouldn't complain. Having nothing to lose, you handed in your resume along with hundreds of others. You felt confident in your chances of being accepted, making a note to highlight your previous career in the American Symphony Orchestra as a cello, and when worst came to shove, you also were a waitress at one point. 

The Queen Mary was not set to sail until 2025, leaving the hiring staff an entire two years to sort and select applications. Leaving you and many others in a state of radio silence. So, you promptly forgot about it. Moving on with your day-to-day life, you continued working ungodly hours, living off unfair wages, and living one day at a time. Until you had the wonderful delight of experiencing your boss, someone you furthermore supported through extra shifts and on days off, made a choice to fire you. 

Or, as she said, "Needing to let go of such a valuable employee due to the current economy." A load of bullshit if she asked you, but she didn't, and with your belongings sitting in the classic cardboard box, you made your way back to your apartment. 

Unlocking your door, letting your feet kick the old wood on its rested hinges closed behind you. You dropped the box carelessly, letting yourself sit on your second-hand couch with your head in your hands. 

You had faced many challenges since moving to America, leaving your family in Austria to make it big in the symphony orchestra only to be eventually let go by an abusive boss. Leaving you as a waitress at Denny's for the past two years. Of course, your family didn't know; how could they? 

You had left them. Had promised and gloated about your upcoming success just to end up in a shabby apartment in a dangerous area and now unemployed too. You were tired and have been for the past two years, but today was your breaking point. Like a cold shower, realization gradually washed over you, forming a heavy puddle in the pit of your stomach. You had failed. 

You wouldn't return as the prodigy you had hoped to be; you wouldn't return wealthier than when you left. Damn it, you couldn't even sustain yourself anymore; the only way you'd be returning is with a walk of shame. How were you supposed to look them in the eyes again? People who unconditionally believed in you, people you made promises to like prayers. 

You were ready to finally give up, throw the white towel, raise your flag, and surrender. You could already hear your grandmother, rotted in old sexist views, present you as an example to your younger siblings. You could practically hear her nasally voice, "Women have no place pretending to be anything they aren't." She always said that; it was almost her slogan. Whenever you had a new idea, when you aspired to be in all kinds of careers, from pilot to singer, she denied every single one. She wanted you to be a wife; nothing more or less was suitable. 

The dawning realization hit you that not only did you fail, but you proved her right too. Your young siblings looked up to you and watched you prove her wrong as you lied to them. Yet, you still pretended to be successful, that you were a part of symphonies, and that employers were constantly looking to recruit you. So not only would you return as a failure, but a liar too.

In your well-deserved moment of self-wallowing, you heard the rusty sound of your mail slit open, watching a letter fall to the floor. You stared at it, silently praying that this wasn't the icing on the cake, and your landlord decided to hand out eviction notices. Then, slowly pushing your lethargic body onto its feet, you hobbled over and picked up the letter. 

Ripping the envelope open carelessly, your eyes scanned the paper. You had been hired as part of the staff regarding the Queen Marys voyage, glancing at your calendar briefly, nearly two years after fucking applying. Due to a staffing issue provided by a system failure, you were hired as part of the waiting staff and, on occasional afternoons, a part of the on-sight orchestra. 

A dry laugh escaped you, flipping off the air as you grinned tiredly. "Not yet, grandma, not fucking yet.." 

The sound of seagulls singing, the smell of seaweed, drying kelp rotting on the shore, and the salty mist of ocean air surrounded you as you passed the crowd. It was boarding day, and you and the rest of the staff members were instructed to board early. But how was that even possible when you had to survive a sea of people instead of boarding a ship. Kids running around, clerly excited, young adults in their groups babbling about the cruise, while you and another worker, Ella, stuck out like a sore thumb in your 1920s-style work uniform. Considering that was when the ship was built and set out to sail, the owner of the Queen Mary only deemed it fitting that the boat preserved its history. 

Along with all the "excuse me's" and "pardon me's," your eyes caught on to a peculiar pair of men. Both sporting shoulder-long locks, one a cheerful blonde and the other a content-looking brunette. Their odd fashion was comparable to yours if they wore formal uniforms. But the clothes looked so ideally suited to their bodies, not an inch of fabric out of place. You just assumed they were history enthusiasts and wanted to match older decades. You caught the gaze of the blonde man, whose laughter and smile stilled as he watched you. A chill traveled down your spine as the eye contact was far too intense for your liking. Ella grabbed your arm carefully, guiding you through the crowd so you two would stay aware of the situation. Finally, you managed to get to the elevator, showing your employee passes before being able to board. 

You glanced out through the glass elevator walls, once again catching sight of the two men from earlier. Yet this time, six pairs of eyes stared at you; a look of shock and utter disbelief fell across their features. There was this incredibly odd, almost indescribable feeling of deja vu washing over you like those handsome faces were familiar. Finally being out of the rush of guests, you had a moment to stare. A man with black hair joined them, his strands of dark locks reaching further down than the others. He looked stoic, calm even, but his gaze connected with yours when you looked at him. He smiled, a gentle soft one that you barely even noticed. But it made you feel something—content. Like the man rarely ever smiled but had done so for you. Before you could fall further into your ridiculous daydreams. You looked away, feeling creeped out as the doors opened, letting you walk up the ramp and board the ship. 

The ship's interior was a work of art all on its own. The lobby, displaying a decorative wall resembling a fountain behind the reception desk, stretched from one corner to another. Several seats and booths were set up to serve as the reception worker's primary domain. Being guided through the halls, past the main entrance seating area. You passed a golden elevator; there was something old-time about it, displaying a large panel to indicate which floor it was on at the top. A large, almost clock-like arrow guided its passage. 

The staff was then split up and shown to their rooms. The halls had a fancy, royally red carpet as the floor. Beautiful golden embroidery gives it a more meaningful design as you pass the countless rooms. Having been given time to settle yourself, you glanced at your room. It looked similar to a standard, single-bed hotel room. A door leads to a closet on your right, being reflected by a body mirror parallel to it. There was a sliding door made of glass on your left, leading to a simple bathroom. A regular-sized bed and a simple bedside table on either side are in the middle of the room. You had put your suitcase against the chairs, flopping onto your bed for a moment to breathe. 

A sharp, almost tapping or knocking sound was heard from your window. Making you snap your head up; nothing should be able to hit your window, considering you were on a ship, high above the waves. Standing up, you glanced outside, watching the night nearly overshadow all the waiting guests if it weren't for the street lamps and store lights. Shrugging, you turned around once more and were later ushered to the restaurant you would serve at with Ella. But, again, given the summary of what was expected of you, you wouldn't be a waitress tonight. 

The restaurant was built to look fancy. Circular tables have neatly, if not ironed tablecloths draped over them. Two plates, four pieces of cutlery, wine glasses, and a white cloth napkin folded in a triangle on each plate. Pointing to the grand chandelier in the room's center, casting the room in a delicate orange glow. Along one side of the restaurant stood a small stage, a few instruments being displayed along with a cello. 

Tonight, you would be entertaining the dining patrons from 6:00 pm till 7:00 pm as the ship's doors finally opened to the public. So, you took your place on stage, skillfully preparing yourself for your session. 

The ship boarded similarly to airplanes, where more exclusive—or affluent passengers got to board first, following up with different groups sectioned by letters. Eventually, the calming silence in the ship slowly became something more welcoming. A soft, joyful buzz of people waiting for their upcoming vacation, or rather journey with bated breaths. 

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. You were getting good money and had yet to decide if you were even returning to the ship to sail back to America. So instead, you might just stay in Italy for a few weeks. 

There was something so comforting in the idea of just doing as you pleased. No one to find you, just wandering down a road and seeing where it would take you. You were a day-to-day kind of person, and you saw nothing wrong with that. But recently, your days have grown to become boring. 

So, as you heard the loud roar of the ship's horn. You smiled to yourself. You had officially set sail to hopefully new and more exciting adventures. 

Gradually, guests began to appear in the restaurant. So, you started playing a casual, soft jazzy tune. Chatter filled the room, almost like a chorus as you played. You found yourself enjoying the atmosphere; everyone in this room came here for one thing: enjoyment. 

For your scheduled hour, you did nothing but play and enjoy. Playing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, Waltz of The Flowers; to Saint-Saëns The Carnival of The Animals. You played it all, a gentle smile tugging at your lips whenever a note hit so beautifully. Sending shivers down your arms and goosebumps, you never failed to get when music was played. 

You hadn't changed one bit. 

Perhaps you would've grown shy while performing if you knew, but this moment had no significant meaning to you. You're just doing your job, simple as that. But what meant so little to you made dead hearts begin to leap again. What it meant for them to see you again, thriving, living, and mortal. Three-hundred unforgiving and torturous years did they spend without you. They spent years getting over your death, and while getting over you wasn't ever accomplished, continuing to survive was. Although blood lacked its taste, the night air its crispness, and music its charm. You stood there on a small stage. Single-handedly providing their miserable lives with color again. With meaning. Although they had long forgotten what it meant to be, or instead feel human again, this was the closest they'll ever get to being so vulnerable. 

Lestat, although having been the most stubborn about accepting your death, was now struggling the most to understand that you were, in fact, alive. Right in front of him, so reachable, so obtainable. But he didn't dare move, frozen in his chair as he watched you. He had dreamed of you every cursed second you were apart, and some part of him didn't want to accept this as reality. Countless nights did he awake in his coffin, arms that had been around you in his dreams now empty. He never minded how cold his skin felt, but nothing was more challenging than the loneliness you left behind. His grief denied him this moment, compared to Louis, who felt nothing but joy; he just couldn't, unlike Armand, who shared the same happiness and disbelief as Louis. 

He was certain you weren't really there. 

To wake up alone after this moment once more, after something that felt so real. So Lestat stayed where he was, silently grieving the only sun in his life that didn't hurt, and enjoyed the sight of you in front of him, alive once more. 

But before you knew it, and any of them wanted to accept, your time was up, and a young pianist came to take your place. You bowed, unaware of the three men who had watched your entire performance with bated breaths. 

As you left the scene. One thing was understood between the three of them; the world wasn't the same without you. They had been given one thing they never had themselves, a second chance. One thing was for sure, they won't lose you again.  

Now that it was seven pm, you were finally able to properly explore the renovated ship. Heading out onto the deck, the breeze gently ruffled your hair. A familiar coldness from the night air hugging you close, enveloping your entire being. You leaned over the railing, tall, half-drunk champagne glass in your hand as you chatted and joked with your newly acquired friend, Ella. A little younger than you, she was a college student who had dropped out of her recent major and decided to take a year off. To find what she really wanted to do. 

You couldn't really judge her for it; teens were forced to make such detrimental decisions way too early, in your opinion. But there was more to life than grades and results. 

A soft clearing of the throat could be heard behind you two. Turning around, you still saw one of the gentlemen from earlier. The one with shoulder-length brown hair tied neatly into a low ponytail and old-fashioned attire. You could tell that he tried looking more modern, but the way his dress shirt and waistcoat snatched his waist so beautifully, you refused to believe the man would ever wear modern-day, baggy clothes and sweatpants.

"Pardon my intrusion, ladies; I just wanted to compliment the wonderful cellist this evening." He mused, a crooked smile framing his face. Ella glanced at you, a playful, bowing smirk tugging at her lips before she nodded. "How wonderful; I'll leave you two be then. My break is over now anyways." She mused, quickly slipping away as you stood there. 

Turning your full attention to the stranger, you smiled welcomingly. This was your favorite thing about traveling. The number of strangers you meant along the way, the people, the stories, the lessons. People never seemed to become boring to you; there always seemed to be something there that always kept you intrigued. 

But something about this stranger didn't feel comparable to all those previous experiences. This man seemed to feel so familiar. "Thank you." You mused you weren't shy by all means, but this man and his companion gave you the oddest of feelings. 

"Excuse me," you began. Then, fully capturing his attention with your words, "But have we met before?" The moment the question escaped your lips an expression painted his face you couldn't quite decipher. 

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, keeping a distance before you nodded. Inviting him to stand beside you, leaning against the railing and staring out at the dark sea. The lights from the ship give the only indication of the waves beneath you, the light softly reflecting against the surface. 

"I don't think we have." The man finally responded to your previous question, his eyes watching the light reflection paint the waves beautifully. "I wouldn't have forgotten someone like you." He hummed with a playful glint as he turned to you and smiled, his forearms resting against the railing. 

"Someone like me?" You asked, chuckling at how broad that phrase was. But, of course, that could mean anything, good or bad. 

"It's a wonderful evening." The brunette mused, occasionally glancing at you as you continued sipping champagne. You awaited his reply to your question but gradually accepted that he would leave your curiosity hanging. "It really is. Have you sailed before?" You asked, attempting a light conversation. The man couldn't help but chuckle as if your question had been silly. Now getting your attention, you stared at him, eyes requesting an explanation for his outbursts. 

As if sensing your confusion, he turned around. His elbows rested against the railing along with his back. "Yes, I have, many times, actually." You nodded, "To where?" But, you added, all kinds of travel interested you, so this wasn't strictly special. 

"You'd be surprised where you can go just by ship." But, although you nodded, traveling by ship was rare besides the vacation cruise or exporting cargo. Perhaps you just didn't know better, but you didn't feel like prying or exactly learning anything at the moment either.

"You know, Mr.—"you trailed off, not knowing the man's name. He smiled at the gesture, having no problem filling in the title for you. “Louis de pointe du lac.” 

You raised your eyebrow, finding such a long name an oddity. "Well, Louis de pointe du lac–" You began again but were again cut off, "Louis. Please refer to me as Louis." 

"Well then, Louis, it was a pleasure meeting you." You mused, not noticing the minor quirk of his smile as you said his name.

"Louis!" A loud voice called in a chiding and scolding manner. The man was obviously annoyed, he was the one with blonde hair styled similarly to Louis's. However, his anger seemed to dwindle when his gaze flashed to yours. He stared for a moment, before softly bowing. You raised your hand to try and prevent the man from literally bending to you, but he simply grasped it. A touch ever so gentle as he kissed the top of your hand, cold soft lips meeting your blazing skin. “Pardon me my chérie, I’m Lestat de Lioncourt, at your service.” 

After your shock finally calmed, you couldn't help but chuckle at the theatrics of this display. Bowing sheepishly, grabbing the edges of your uniform as you did, "Hello, gentleman, I'm Y/N L/N."

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat shifted your attention again, directed at the last man with long black hair in the group. "As lovely a name as ever, I am Armand." He hummed, making you realize the soft accents they had. Louis had an American accent, Lestat carried a faint French accent, and the man who had just introduced himself as Armand sounded European. 

"How rude of us to bombard you like this chérie, care to join us for dinner? I'm afraid the night isn't getting any younger you know." Lestat mused, an eager smile stretching at his lips as he chuckled. You smiled at the offer but shook your head in refusal. "Although I'm not usually the type to deny a dinner with strangers, I'll have to pass this time. I'm too tired to provide any enjoyable company this evening." You hummed, slowly stepping away from what appeared to be a disappointed blonde. 

"Perhaps another time." You added, smiling softly as you turned to the brunette. He shook his head playfully, "Don't mind him, have a good night Y/N." You nodded, waving a little as you finally left. Entering the ship once more as you made your way to your room, letting out a small sigh. The first day of anything was constantly exhausting in your eyes, but today sure gave you hope for more eventful journeys ahead of you. 

You completed your routine rather quickly, but it was still odd to feel the occasional sway or shift of the boat. It was very subtle, but you would notice if you focused on it. Removing your uniform, you let it against one of the vacant chairs before hopping into the shower. Luckily the bathrooms were made to look more modern than the rest of the ship; you were a stickler when it came to bathrooms. Being quick to shower, you dried yourself off and put yourself in some loose clothes. You would consider yourself someone who doesn't wear specific pajamas for bed; you would wear whatever was comfortable. 

Laying down after such an eventful day was pure bliss, even though you didn't do anything that was physically exhausting. Your feet still ached from all the walking, your lower back complained from the luggage you carried, and your mental state was even more drained. If there was one thing you were ready for tonight, it was to clock out until someone would bother you again tomorrow. Turning off your night lamp, you were quick to doze off. 

Although your sleep was quick to come, it didn't stay. You sleep in two-hour increments but eventually give up after five A.M. You get dressed, not in your usual work uniform, since you would only have to check in for work late into the day. So at the moment, you were a simple guest. Stepping out of your room, you walked past the halls and suites. But you halted at the loud crash of what you could only assume was furniture tipping over. The noises erupted from the room as if a band of wild animals had been let loose. 

You should have continued walking; this was none of your business. But the thought of it being a case of domestic violence or any other situation where your interference might've helped had you backtracking. You stayed silent, letting your ears strain to make up any conversation through the door. 

"Absolutely not!" A loud yet familiar voice boomed as glass shattering followed the commotion. 

"Why the hell not?" Another voice followed; this was a heated debate between two men. "What are you waiting for, Louis?" A moment of silence, like a glass of ice-cold water, was splashed onto you. You knew these men; this must've been Louis and the other's suite. At least, that's what you assumed. 

You could hear stomping, the screeching of a chair against the wooden floor, then again silence. "Three-hundred fucking years. Three-fucking-hundred! Now you're suggesting that we let her go? Live a human life, a vulnerable, fragile, dangerous human life?" The man's voice, who you pinned as Lestats argued. But the mention of humanity, as if implying that there was something outside of that spectrum unnerved you. We're they rehearsing for some play? 

"No, that's not it, Lestat, and you know that." Louis's voice spoke calmly, but there was a clear, agitated tone. For how long have they been arguing? 

"Leaving her mortal makes her fragile, yes. But turning her could leave her hating us." The accented voice of Armand spoke, making you sincerely wonder who this 'she' was. 

"You're risking everything!" Lestat couldn't believe they had this conversation for the last hour. After your sweet self had retired for the night, there was tension between them. It wasn't until Lestat lured a slightly drunk woman into their room and decided to celebrate his lover's reappearance with a bloody gore fest. Armand had partaken, not with much interest in the human blood-bag, and Louis was his sympathetic self as he drank. It wasn't until Lestat's small comment about how cute you'd look, all bloody and desperate for blood. Fledglings were always so needy once they got a taste, and he couldn't wait to indulge you. Then, of course, there was still the probing question of who would be your sire, your maker. 

But Louis had cut him off, stating that you needed to stay human longer. To grow accustomed to them and eventually to their life. Louis understood where Lestat was coming from; perhaps he would've been more rational if he wasn't so exhausted from their argument. He sat slouched in a soft, red-cushioned chair. Rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe his headache. He sympathized with you because he knew someone would turn you sooner rather than later. He just couldn't bear you going through the terrors he went through; he could still recall the way you had refused to turn the first time they had all met. They had foolishly allowed you to stay human for a little longer, where you had found yourself in a riot and subsequently lost your life in the raging mob. 

He would be a liar if he said he didn't want to turn you too. To have that security, they had an eternity to properly court you, but you were human. Weak and fragile, with so little time compared to them. 

Armand was the calmest in the situation. He, too, wanted nothing more than to hold you like he had always done, to share his gift with you like he had wanted to all those years ago. But you didn't want that then and didn't seem open to something so life-altering now. The risk of developing a bad relationship through actions rushed by their emotions was too risky, despite his creeping fear at the idea of you being human. If they were on a ship, there would be no civil unrest and certainly no outright threats that could actively harm you. 

His coffin has felt so empty without you; for once in his miserable immortal life did he feel at peace. All of them did, and although they all felt torn. They eventually decided to wait to develop a small relationship before changing you. 

You still stood outside, shaking your head at what you had heard. Utter nonsense, complete nonsensical sentences. Finally, you walked off, unaware that your footsteps had been heard. And three protective vampires were not too keen on the idea of someone knowing about them, about you. 

[lady-phasma]

Captivated

The Vampire Armand x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some biting, mention of blood, smut, spit as lube, penetration but no gender mentioned.

Summary: You decide to go home with Armand, PWP, 3.1k words

a/n: human reader (not a vampire) but not described (inclusive!reader), no specified location, probably not Dubai, modern but no time stated however I decided vampires have announced themselves (like late TVC book canon), I headcanon Armand as a sub but to make this an inclusive gn reader he’s a bit of a switch.

Special thanks to the amazing @aemondsbabe for all the help listening to ideas and letting me fangirl!

You followed him down the hallway. The apartment building was modern and austere. Your footsteps echoed off the bare walls. The liminal quality of the empty space at this early-late hour was unnerving and exhilarating. Everyone in the building asleep except the two of you. Armand walked slowly, but still a few steps ahead of you. He could feel your anxiety, but he could also feel your curiosity. It intrigued him.

Armand unlocked and opened the door, holding it for you to enter after he had stepped inside. The air was cool and made you shiver, compounding your exhilaration. A nagging part of your mind still wondered what you could possibly be thinking, accepting an offer to come back to a vampire’s home with him. When the door closed and locked behind you the sense of dread seemed to deepen momentarily. Then you felt Armand’s hand on your lower back. You exhaled. He stepped in front of you and his gentle smile and calm face soothed your trepidation. You pulled your eyes up from his lips to meet his gaze. His smile reached the corners of his eyes and made you feel… safe? Before you had time to decide if that was the feeling he spoke.

“Shall I make you a drink?” He moved away from you, sliding his hand from your back to your hip and then walking away. “I make a lovely martini.” His voice trailed behind him. You stepped out of your fear and walked toward him. He eyed the shape of your body under your clothes as you approached. He hadn’t intended to meet anyone tonight and was predominately a creature of habit, but you had approached him so confidently. It was difficult to dismiss you.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “No, thank you. I almost had too many at the bar. Maybe a glass of water, if you don’t mind that is.”

“Of course not,” he smiled at you again. That smile had drawn you across the bar to him, that and his presence. He commanded any room he was in by being the most mysterious yet unassuming person in it. It was easy to not notice him at first, but when you had looked closer you felt a magnetic pull. You only acted on it when he gave you that exact smile.

You looked around the large room, kitchen and living room open and uncluttered. Ice clinked in a glass behind you, water poured over it, not from the tap. Bottled water, of course. You smiled briefly. Before you could register the sound of his footsteps he was beside you. You took the glass he offered and sipped. Your mouth was dry, but not from thirst. You licked water from your lips and saw him watching. His eyes were the only unnerving part of him. They caught you off guard if you looked away from him for too long. But when he looked at you like that they were beguiling and you wondered what he was thinking. It was more than hunger. You both knew that.

You set your glass on the countertop and walked toward the plate glass window. The view was spectacular, expensive. You marveled at the city lights, pretending to be more interested in them than in Armand. You tried desperately to keep your nerves under control, but it was little use.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” You jumped a bit as he spoke. His voice was soft, but you hadn’t heard him approach this time. “I enjoy seeing the movement of humans around me. Thriving, suffering, toiling, never quite satisfied so they strive for more greatness. Cities have always enchanted me, that ambition is better seen nowhere else.”

“Do you have a favorite?” You turned to look at him. He stared out the window but he was no longer seeing.

“Yes,” he replied dreamily. “Venice. But not the Venice you will ever know. Venice was once the most beautiful place on earth for me.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We didn’t come here to talk of Venice, did we?”

You swallowed dryly as he turned to look at you. There was a moment’s hesitation, Armand waiting, you deciding, then you stepped toward him and placed your hand on his waist. He smiled again, but this one didn’t reach his eyes. Moving with slow deliberation, he brushed his fingers across your cheek and down your neck. Your lips parted and his eyes flicked down, then back up to yours. His gravity was too strong, his allure too overwhelming. His fingers slid to the back of your neck and you leaned forward. Your lips barely touched his at first. Then he closed the distance. His fingers tightened on the back of your neck. A small moan escaped your mouth and you stopped the impulse to slide your hand to his back and pull his body against yours. Something about this man made you want to wait, be patient, savor him.

Instead you ran your tongue over his bottom lip as you kissed, begging for entrance. He allowed it. You felt one of his fangs and almost pulled back at the sensation. But when he moaned you crushed your lips against his, spurred on by his response to the faint taste of copper from the scratch on your tongue. Armand’s free hand flew to your hip, fingers digging in through your clothing as he kissed you back fiercely. He felt the stirrings of human desire begin after the taste of your blood. It was never as satisfying as drinking, but it was more than merely pleasant. He wanted as much from you as you were willing to give but he would not allow himself to rush. He was ancient and patient. But he could be insistent and he encouraged you with his hands, his mouth. The press of his tongue against yours, the coolness of his lips slowly warming from your heat, the way he clenched and unclenched his fingers on your skin, made the ache in your core begin to coil tighter like a spring. Then he slowly began to pull back from you. You opened your eyes, lightheaded from need.

With some hesitation, you raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your palm. Armand almost closed his eyes before you moved your hand to his jaw, his neck. Your fingers delved into his hair, tangling in the curls, and you tugged gently. He lifted his chin. You placed your mouth against the cool skin of his neck, feeling his pulse beneath your lips. You let your teeth graze him and he inhaled sharply. You pressed your teeth harder into the unyielding flesh. His hands pulled at you, finally molding your bodies together. The familiar longing tugged at Armand’s chest. He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your teeth. Though they were harmless, impotent, he felt a rush from your mouth on his neck to the base of his spine. You fisted more of his dark curls in your fingers as you bit down. His hand trailed down your neck, your arm, your side. He had both his hands on your hips, kneading steadily. You moaned. His strength was obvious, but he had tempered it, restrained it. You weren’t sure if you wanted his restraint.

As you slid your mouth down his neck, letting your teeth drag against him, you moved your hand to the small of his back. When you rolled your hips against him that fantastic ache surged in you again. You lifted your head and exhaled. You looked at him as you pulled your fingers out of his hair and rested your hand on his shoulder. His eyes had a mournful quality for a moment, then his countenance shifted and he began to guide you backward to the couch. For only an instant he had been disappointed that you were human, that you could not finish what you had started. He knew you had seen it, but he pushed it aside, choosing to revel in your warmth and mortality. Your calves hit the cushions, but he didn’t let you sit yet. He released you from his grip and stepped back. He raised one eyebrow.

You felt your face go hot as understanding dawned. Slowly, you removed your shirt, watching Armand’s face. You toed off your shoes and slid your pants off. As you stood in front of him, naked, a tendril of anticipation swept from your chest to your core. He took you in with a quick glance. The need in his veins had finally settled at the base of his cock. He began to unbutton his shirt as he stepped closer to you. You slipped your hands inside his open shirt and gently pushed it off his shoulders while he unfastened his belt and trousers. He let your fingers rove over his chest and stomach as he finished undressing. But the moment he was done, before you could catch more than a glimpse of his sculpted form, he crashed into you. Still not using his full strength, he pushed you back onto the sofa. He didn’t let you fall, you glided back, feeling nearly weightless. He wouldn’t hurt you, but what he had thought might not happen with a human was suddenly overwhelming.

Armand’s skin was cool against yours, but it felt amazing. Your hands roamed eagerly over his body as he kissed your neck, your shoulder, your chest. You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as he brushed his lips across your nipples. You could hear your heart pounding and fleetingly wondered what it might sound like to him. This thought was torn out of your mind when you felt his hand move between you. You groaned and bit your bottom lip as his fingers found the root of your arousal. The last few moments had passed so quickly that you had barely registered the increasing need you felt. But now your attention was focused on his fingers moving between your thighs, as well as the feeling of his cock, hard against your belly. His soft sighs were barely audible as he continued licking and kissing you. You ran your hand through his hair, drug your nails down his neck, and elicited a moan from him that vibrated through you. You pushed your hips against his hand and felt sudden, overwhelming urgency.

“Armand…” you said his name breathlessly.

“Yes?” The single word muffled by your skin against his mouth. You moaned quietly, summoning the courage to say it outright. You thought you felt him smile. Then his hand sped up and you fought the urge to beg. You could think of one thing and one thing only.

“Please,” there was a tinge of whininess in your voice, but only a little. You dropped your voice lower. “Please fuck me.”At this he looked up at you. His expressive face, curtained by his disheveled hair, fueled your need for him.

“As you wish,” he almost grinned.

When he moved his hand to your hip you felt disappointment tempered only by anticipation. You didn’t want him to stop. His touch was feather-light as he slid one hand behind your thigh. In the same fluid movement he sat up to kneel between your legs. Exhilaration rippled through your stomach. He held your gaze as he pursed his lips and slowly dripped spit into his upturned palm. You licked your lips and writhed involuntarily. Unhurried and languidly, he stroked his cock, his hand gliding easily along his length. Even in the dim light you could see the precum as he swiped his thumb across the tip. You seemed to lift your hips each time he slid his foreskin back. Armand watched you, enjoyed drawing out your need for a few more agonizing moments. He could be infinitely patient. You could not. Your human desire for him was as attractive to him as you, your body, your presence.

Armand’s eyes slowly moved down your body. It was excruciating. The wait was interminable. You wanted to put your hands on him again, to feel his skin on yours. You both watched as he moved his hand to you, fingers deftly finding their destination. You arched your back and your hands scrabbled to find purchase on the couch. A small smirk had crept onto his face. You barely noticed. He leaned forward and grazed the head of his cock between your legs. Your breath came in short pants. You desperately reached for him as he propped himself over you, one hand on the couch by your head, the other guiding himself into you.

Armand exhaled a soft grunt. You looked up at his face, caught his gaze just before he closed his eyes. He slid his hand across your hip and pulled your leg to his side. You almost held your breath as he hooked his arm behind your knee. He was focused entirely on the exquisite feeling of sliding into you. With preternatural control, he didn’t rush. You snaked a hand into his hair and pulled his mouth down onto yours. He quite enjoyed allowing you to move him around and your urgency was intoxicating. But he could be patient enough for you both.

“Oh god,” you moaned as you broke from the kiss. You didn’t open your eyes to look at him, all your senses were concentrated on how deep he was inside you. “You feel so good Armand. I… I want…”

“Yes, you want me to hurry,” he finished for you. He made a sound that was half amusement, half resignation. “Not yet.”

His slow strokes were intense, each one bringing him closer to being fully inside you. Your hands itched to grab his ass and pull his hips into yours, but it would have been futile. Instead, you tightened your hand in his hair and lifted your lips to his again. Your other hand stroked his chest and arm, his side, and up his back. As he slid into you again, his hips keeping a steady rhythm, you could barely kiss him, doing little more than holding your open mouth against his. You dropped your head back down and looked up at him. He was watching you. For the second time this night your face flooded with heat. You held his gaze and moved your hips in time with his., gauging his reaction. He knew better than to loose control with a human, but the captivating way you looked at him almost fractured his resolve. When his hips met yours again, he stopped and ground into you. A groan came from deep in your throat as you tilted your head back. Armand watched as your neck was bared to him, watched your pulse race. With more restraint than most, he kissed the hollow of your shoulder, moving up to the side of your neck. This slight motion pushed him deeper inside you. You panted and tried to roll your hips against him.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised, lips still pressed against your neck. Supporting himself on one hand, he slid the other between your bodies again. The first touch of his fingers was electrifying. Armand was enjoying your reactions immensely. Yes, you felt amazing around his cock, but bringing these sounds from your lips and these responses from your body did more to spur him on. His tempo increased in time with the movement of his hand. He kissed you higher up on your neck, lips passing over your ear, against your cheek. His long but quick strokes hit that spot, that delicious spot, that could bring you to the edge so easily. You could think of nothing but his cock and his hand. Even his mouth was nearly forgotten until he spoke.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek again. “You’re doing so very well.” You moaned beneath him, arching your back, trying to get there, but you didn’t quite know where there was. Then Armand paused, only for a beat, and thrust forward again, fully into you. Now he was relentless, not rough but quick, keeping metronomic time. Something you had never experienced with a human. He was controlled, determined, and truly enjoying himself. He felt you clench around him and groaned into your ear. You dug your fingers into any part of him you could find as the beginnings of your climax twisted at the point where he thrust into you so steadily, but so wonderfully.

“Cum for me,” he breathed. At first you weren’t sure you heard him, then his hand sped up and the crest of your building orgasm broke. You gasped his name, breathed curses into his dark, tangled curls, and gave into the overwhelming sensations. You tried to catch your breath, but Armand didn’t stop. He pushed through your orgasm, drawing it out until he felt your body begin to relax. You shuddered as he withdrew his hand. You were too far gone, too blissful, to notice at first that he had begun moving a bit faster. The sound of his skin against yours was lewd and fantastic. You were sure you couldn’t stand this overstimulation any longer when you felt his hips falter, slow, then stop. Armand groaned and buried his face in your neck as he slid his arm from under your leg.

Your hip felt like molten lead as you lowered your leg. You had a brief moment of near-delirium when you thought that such human problems would be long behind Armand now. You stifled your laughter with a deep breath. He raised his head to look at you. You smiled and caressed his cheek. Somehow he looked younger, more at peace for a moment. He pulled back slightly and you flinched at the renewed stimulation. You prepared yourself for the inevitable. Cautiously, watching as he did so, he pulled out and guided your leg to one side. As he lay down on the couch, you rolled over to make room for him. He pressed himself against the back of the sofa and pulled you into him. His arm was warm and heavy draped around your chest.

Armand sighed as you nestled your ass against him. He curled an arm under his head to make room for you and inhaled deeply. You scent was powerful now and it reminded him of your fragility all of a sudden. He cherished that even after all these years. That a human could draw such experiences from him continued to surprise him. He drew you slightly closer to his chest. You had no thoughts at all except the feeling of his body against your back, his arm around you. You wanted to say something, anything, but words would not come. You lifted his hand to your mouth, kissed it, then laid it back across your chest.

Masterlist

[ghouldump]

Anything For You | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ all he wants is for you to be his perfect companion, yet you keep chasing the fleeting things of life

it was accidentally deleted, so i’m reposting

"You should've left me to die, I wasn't worth much before, and now I'm a monster," you stared at your reflection, disgusted with the sight.

"Mon chéri, don't be stupid, do you think I would give my blood to someone who wasn't worthy?" Lestat asked, approaching you from behind, but you pulled away.

"You made me into this-

"You will learn to control your thirst, you just need to allow me to teach you, and to stay away from that pathetic excuse of a-

"I loved him," you screamed.

"-and he used you, he used you over and over, then I came. I loved you, I love you, but you continue to chase a passion that should have died with your soul," Lestat raised his voice over your own, he was growing frustrated with your childish tantrum.

However, he knew he'd hurt your feelings, as your eyes softened. Biting your lip, you ran upstairs, to your coffin, wanting to be away from the elder vampire. He would leave you alone for now, until you were done with your rage. Lying in the dark, you chewed at your lip, holding back the urge to cry, you hated crying, one of the many qualities that were a reminder that you were no longer mortal. Tossing and turning, you closed your eyes, reminiscing about your former life, and what you could remember of it.

You grew up poor, living in the Third Ward of New Orleans. Your mother died during childbirth, leaving you to be raised by your father. He never remarried, and hardly paid any attention to you, working himself to an early death. At 12, both of your parents were gone and with no other family or life insurance, you began to search for a job, along with a new place to stay - the bank eventually had taken the house due to owing taxes.

You struggled for some time, trying to find somewhere, anywhere when you ended up at Canal Belle's. You worked as a housekeeper for the brothel, until you were 18, then you were finally put to use (as they said. The high-end whorehouse was very particular about who they employed, so you were determined to gain your boss's approval.

Prostituting was in the simplest term, miserable. Knowing you had a place to stay, food, and a bit of change in your pocket were all great - but there were downsides. Constantly being used and degraded, instances of abuse or being robbed. A life like this didn't have any true value until you met William.

Average height, dark hair, green eyes, and broad shoulders, he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He had recently graduated from law school and was the dreamiest man you'd ever met. Although looking back at the last year, when you were alive, he was more underwhelming than originally thought to be.

"I can see why you were a hefty penny, miss?"

"Y/n"

"Miss Y/n, you can call me Bill, thank you for your beautiful talent," he said, holding out his hand, smiling as you hesitantly accepted his hand.

"Do you sweet talk every lady of the night, after their service is done?"

"Only the ones as gorgeous as you-l'm messing around, you..are my first"

"Well, I'm glad to be apart of the experience," you smiled, climbing out of the bed, and going to the vanity. You had other clients tonight, you had to clean yourself up.

Watching as he left the room, your eyes briefly flickered at your reflection, before you began to wash up. William quickly came to become a regular at the brothel, everyone knew you were his favorite. As his paywage increased, he grew more arrogant and possessive, not wanting to share you with others.

Meanwhile, the soft spot that you once had for him, grew into genuine love. 'I'm gonna take you from this place, we'll move down to Lafayette, build a nice house, have a lot of babies', he pillow talked. Your heart nearly shattered, finding out that he already had a wife.

"You have to understand, darling, it was arranged by my old man, once he's dead, then I can divorce her, and I'm all yours," he reassured, wiping your stained face.

"You promise?"

"I promise, now take off this pretty dress for me," he said, pulling you into his lap.

In a way, you accepted your unfair situation - life had already dealt you a poor hand, so why deny yourself love? No, it wasn't proper, but nothing about your life was. that is until the mysterious French man moved to New Orleans.

The first night you'd met, you couldn't help but be mesmerized. Sitting at the small table in the corner of the balcony, you listened to the band. You always had an ear for music and it was rare moments like these, you were able to truly enjoy the sound of the instruments.

William was running late, you weren't even sure if he would make it tonight, but you didn't mind. You would miss out on money, but at least you could hear the music. Something about the melancholy of the trumpet, made the sorrows of your life fade.

"I agree, this song is lovely on the ears," hearing the voice you jolted, turning to face the man.

"May I?" he motioned at the table.

"Oh, yes," you nodded, watching as he sat near you, crossing his leg over the other.

"I don't believe I've heard this band play before"

"They're new, only play on Friday nights"

"Ah, that certainly explains it"

“I don't believe I've seen you before, are you a tourist?"

"I recently moved here," he pulled out a card, his name written in golden letters.

"Lestat, I'm-

"Y/n, yes, I've heard much about you, are you still accepting clients, Mon chèri?"

"I-

"Y/n, come," William said, approaching the two of you.

'Do not let him speak to you in such a condescending tone'

Furrowing your eyebrows, you confusingly looked at Lestat, he had spoken to you, without moving his mouth. He hadn't even acknowledged William, tapping his glass-like nails to the sound of the music.

"Coming, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Lioncourt," you gave him a small smile.

"The pleasure was all mine," he said, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

William lightly frowned at Lestat, his arm territorially going around your waist, leading you away to your room.

'He thinks he is above you, when it is you, who is superior'

Again, Lestat's voice could be heard in your mind, making you look back at him. He now stood in the doorway of the balcony, maintaining his hypnotizing gaze, a smirk in place.

You didn't see Lestat for nearly two weeks until your madam called you into her office, the mysterious man eyed your figure, from head to toe, that same grin, and your heart fluttered at the sight. The room was much brighter than the balcony and you could see him more clearly. He looked heavenly, yet devilish, perhaps a beautiful fallen angel, gracing your eyes. He smiled, chuckling, making your blood run cold, the way his eyes stared at you, you were certain he could hear your thoughts, but that wasn't possible.

"Y/n, you won't be seeing Mr. William tonight, Mr. Lioncourt was willing to pay double the price for you, you be a good girl now," she told you, leaving the room.

"Please, come sit," Lestat said, your feet moved on their own, leading you to the chair near him.

"Hi, Mr. Lioncourt-

"No need to be formal with me, Mon chèri-

"Are you a magician?" You asked, making him laugh.

"Excuse me?"

"I heard you in my head"

"He speaks to you as if you are his pet, it's irritating seeing such potential being treated poorly," he said, his hand going to gently rest on your cheek.

"You are too kind, Lestat, but Bill didn't mean any harm, and I'm nothing special," you shook your head, your eyes widening as he scoffed.

"Nonsense, you will soon see how priceless you are, I would take my word for it, over your affair partner, I mean, look at me, then him"

"Affair?"

"Mon chèri, you are aware that he is married? You are more than a fling"

"It is a misunderstanding, he was forced into an arranged marriage, once his father dies, we can-

"Did he tell you these things? I am unmarried, I wouldn't burden you with the worries of another, you'd be my angel, for an eternity," he said, as you stared into each other's eyes.

"If I wasn't broken, then I would believe you, but I have to accept what I can get"

"Not with me, I'll be there to fix every piece of you," he said, moving closer before his lips were pressed against your own. Swiftly, you were in his lap, reaching for the back of your dress.

"I can't accept this," you shook your head, backing away from Lestat, who only pulled you closer.

"Oh, but you must, it will go perfectly against your soft skin," he said, wrapping his arms around you.

"Fine, but close your eyes, no peaking," you said, stepping out of your clothes, and slipping into the gifted lingerie set.

You had only been seeing Lestat for a few weeks now, but it felt like it had been months. He came nearly every night and on nights he didn't make it, he sent a letter, apologizing. He continued to pay double, much like William, keeping you to himself, except you didn't mind. Some nights, you'd have spontaneous sex, walk the streets, or have long conversations. Lestat was making his way into your heart, and shoving William out of the way, and you found yourself not minding.

"Hey, I said no peaking," you giggled, adjusting the knickers, before looking through your new small collection of dresses. It seemed like every time he visited, he had a new gift.

"Mr. William, Y/n, is busy-

"Let be through," you opened the door confused, making eye contact with a furious William. His eyes softened on you, but noticing Lestat who now stood behind you, his button shirt open, you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"Y/n, what is the meaning of this?"

"Bill, it is nice to see you"

"What are you doing with him? You are mine, you will not be with the both of us-

"I'd like to stay with Lestat," you answered quickly, your heart racing, as he chuckled, slamming the door in William's face.

"I can't believe I did that, do you think we could do something else tomorrow? Even if we just go walk down the quarter," you rambled, until his finger brushed against your lips.

"I will send for you to be brought to my home, I must go”

"Your house? Are you sure?" You asked, you had never seen his home, only hearing a few things about it being expensive. You knew Lestat was wealthy, but you never questioned how or why. You didn't question a lot of things about him, how you never got to see him during the day, why his eyes were so pale, how he was able to get into your head. You simply accepted these traits as a part of him.

"I will see you then, Mon chèri," he said, getting dressed, before softly pecking your lips.

The next day, as the sun was setting you were making your way back to your room. You had been out, searching for lipstick and perfume, but Lestat would be sending for you soon. However, before you could make it back to Canal Belle's, a sack was thrown over your head, dragging you into an ally.

As you went to scream, you couldn't, your mouth covered harshly, as you were thrown into what felt like a carriage. You could hear multiple voices, none recognizable, but they were laughing. Eventually, the motion came to a stop, before you were dragged out again. Clawing your way free, you broke into a run, before you were tackled, when they started. Taking turns, the unknown men beat you, repeatedly. The screams that wanted to escape were now suppressed. Suddenly, one of them ripped the sack from your head.

"P-please"

"Shut your mouth, whore"

They continued and continued, your breathing becoming more ragged, your vision more blurred. Unexpectedly, a harsh wind blew, and both of the men were killed soundlessly. Lestat then stooped down, lifting you into his arms.

"Lestat," you shrugged to keep your eyes open, confused to even be seeing him.

"Y/n, allow me to fix you, you'll be my companion, and I yours, and no one will ever hurt you again," he said, watching as your hand, weakly went to his mouth, wiping at the smeared blood.

"I'm damaged property-

"You are more precious than any jewel, my love, allow me to gift you an eternity of bliss," he said, a single bloody tear rolling down his face.

"Okay," you nodded, growing more tired by the second. Abruptly, you began feeling a burning sensation, as Lestat bit your neck, sucking your blood, leaving you cold and numb, before allowing you to drink his own.

Becoming Lestat's companion and fledgling was easier than you thought. Or at least, you didn't struggle in areas that you thought you would. You thought you'd miss going out in the warm sun, eating different foods, spending time with your old favored clients. None of those things matter to you anymore, Lestat filled your mind and you enjoyed every moment with him.

Except there was one thing, the fundamental problem you struggled against. Your thirst was strong, you could hardly control yourself, doing something as simple as passing by other mortals was a struggle. Lestat had been helping you with your hunting, but you still couldn't gain discipline from his techniques.

Running into a former colleague, she insisted that the two of you caught up before she went on to bring up William, he had moved to Lafayette. Hearing the name piqued your interest in a way that it shouldn't have. You began thinking back, all the fun stories he's shared, his kind and romantic words. Lestat knew something was going on, you were beginning to pull away from him, but he didn't want to force you into a conversation.

You began to plan, you knew Lestat would be jealous, and not supportive - but this felt right. Just as the sun set, you knew Lestat had plans tonight, however, you didn't intend on joining. Placing a kiss on his lips before he left your shared home, and you began to get ready yourself.

Traveling by foot, you made it to Lafayette within thirty minutes and began your search for Williams' home. By the time you found him, any traces of the sun had disappeared. You slowly approached his home, a large house, in the middle of nowhere. As a woman came out, a baby in her arms, you stopped. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her, before doing the same to the child in her arms. A hand went to your mouth, in disbelief, watching as she went inside, you revealed yourself.

"Bill," you called out, approaching.

"Y/n? I-my eyes are playing tricks on me," he shook his head.

"No-

"I heard you died," he said, making you freeze.

Nearly six months passed and no one knew about the incident with you and the two men. It was dark, and Lestat had killed them before he got the chance to read their thoughts to figure out why they were doing this. However, standing in front of Bill, it now made perfect sense, the gears clicking in your mind. The bloody tears began to leak from your eyes.

"Well, I'm here," you held your head up, wiping away the blood before it could make it down your face.

"You were never gonna leave her, were you?" You asked a sad smile in place.

"Oh, darling, don't worry about her, come here," he said, opening his arms.

Slowly moving closer, you stood stiff for a moment, as he wrapped his arms around you. Going to wrap your arms around him, you noticed a prominent vein in his neck, triggering your teeth. Your mind began to run wild, you wanted to drain the life out of Bill, his wife, his infant, and anyone in the home. Lifting your head to bite-

"Y/n, come to me, Now," Lestat commanded. The compelling feeling washed over you, and you pulled away from Bill.

"I have to go," you said, ignoring his questions, making your way back home.

Now away from him, your emotions were everywhere, the thought of killing the child and his mother disgusted you, only a monster-

And Bill, why would he do something like that to you, was he never in love with you?

Lestat stood outside, his jaw clenching, his eyes following you as you went inside.

"You have been crying," he said, pointing out, as you went to the bathroom, turning on the water to rinse your face.

"Why did you go see him?" He asked.

"Can we not talk about this?" You asked in return, feeling yourself getting emotional all over.

"No, I need to know why my companion ran off in the middle of the night, to go see another-

"It doesn't matter, I won't go again," you said, rolling your eyes, as another tear dropped.

"Something happened, Mon chèri?"

"I'm a monster, I wanted to kill them all, even a child, am I that untamed, that I would hurt a child," you shook your head in disbelief.

"You are far from a monster, you just need time"

"You should've left me to die, I wasn't worth much before, and now I'm a monster," you stared at your reflection, disgusted with the sight.

Memories of the fight between the two of you made you open your eyes, staring up into the darkness. You were sure you had been crying all over again, by the wetness of your face.

"Mon chéri, I apologize for my choice of words, please don't shut me out," you heard Lestat's voice outside of the coffin.

"I will do anything, to make you feel better," he announced, as you finally opened the coffin.

"Your crying makes my heart ache," he said, gently wiping your face.

"I'm sorry," you told him. You felt remorseful, you hadn't fully let go of your old life as you knew it, when Lestat was right in front of you, guaranteeing a life of passion and love like no other.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?" he asked a gentle smile in place.

"I couldn't let go of the past to see to truly appreciate what was in front of me, but I couldn't see more clearly now"

"I love you too, my angel," he laughed, kissing your lips.

"Lestat, I think Bill was behind the incident, he said something questionable," you said, climbing out of the coffin, wiping your eyes, as Lestat stood.

"What did he say?"

"That he "heard" that I was dead, no one else knew about what happened, unless-

"He paid them to do it, probably out of jealousy, come, we have somewhere to be," he said in a serious tone, locking up the house and leading you to his car.

You didn't say much of anything, silently enjoying the ride, that seemed to last forever, until he pulled over.

"The rest of the way, we have to do by foot," he said, getting out, as the two of you walked down the familiar path. You felt like you knew where he was taking you, but silently, you followed, until stopping in front of the large home.

"Do not worry about the well-being of the child, I will take care of it," he told you.

"Lestat"

"As much as I want to do it myself, you deserve revenge, he said, quietly breaking the door, and entering as it creaked open.

Going upstairs, he quickly came down with the infant, wrapped in a blanket. Grabbing a nearby basket, the child was placed inside.

"We will leave it somewhere safe," he told you, reassuringly, waving for you to go upstairs, when the baby cried out. He rolled his eyes in disgust.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard, followed by panic, they were looking for the baby. William's wife ran to wake him up, both of them soon coming into view as they ran to the stairs. Freezing, they watched as Lestat tauntingly held the basket.

"Please, give me my baby"

"Y/n, what is the meaning of this?

"Bill, you know her?"

"I truly don't understand why if someone's name starts with Will, everyone insists on calling them Bill," Lestat laughed.

Not saying a word, your teeth came out, staring at the two of them.

"Enjoy this," Lestat told you, snickering at the look of fear on Williams's face.

"Think of it like an eye for an eye, a death for a death," you told him, slowly walking up the stairs.

"Spare her," he pleaded, but you only laughed.

"I don't think you're in any position to make any commands," you smiled.

Sitting the baby outside, Lestat soon joined you as you drained the two of them, along with the house servants, before setting the house on fire.

Lestat kept his word, leaving the basket in front of a far-off neighbor before the two of you headed back to New Orleans. By the time you were back home, the sun was on the brink of rising. Hungrily kissing each other, Lestat carried you to your shared room, gently placing you on the ground.

"Thank you, for tonight"

"Anything for you," he said, pulling you into another kiss.

"May I join you?" You asked him, as he went to open his coffin.

"Always," he nodded, as you both stripped from your clothing. Watching as he climbed in first, lying down, you straddled his waist.

"I love you, Lestat"

"I love you more, Mon chèri," he held your hand, placing a kiss on it, as you reached up, closing the coffin.

If this is what your eternity looked like, then you couldn't be more grateful for such a gift.

a/n : feel free to send request if you have anything in mind

[sinners4ever]

Just One Night

Pairing: Armand x Fem!Reader (POC)

Content|Warning: ADULTS ONLY , stalking, predator n prey, p in v penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, feeding (vampires), mentions of blood.

Summary: You’ve caught the attention of The Vampire Armand. He finds himself interested in you…Will one night with you satisfy him?

It was your third weekend at the bar, your third night seeing a couple sitting at the same bar as you. One with his attention on another young man and the other looking directly at you. He occasionally looked away to check on his lover and would turn away in pain as it would seem. You kept your glass in your hand uncomfortably shifting in your seat as those eyes that looked like glowing embers pierced into your soul. You looked away again drinking down the last gulp of your wine only to be startled when you see the same man directly beside you. You took a deep breath turning to see his face a bit clearer he was beautiful, alluring, and angelic you were frozen in your seat should you speak? He had already beaten you to it. “Pardon my staring, but you look amazing tonight.” You were still in shock so for a while what he said did not register. “Er…petite dame…are you ill?” You jumped out of your trance still finding yourself lost for words. “Ill? oh…oh no I just wasn’t expecting to see you here…so close.” He smirked only for a second before that same blank look settled on his face again. “Forgive me..I seemed to have lost my partner to another tonight and you looked familiar you’ve been here before…yes?” You nod slowly forgetting your glass was empty but before you could get the bartender’s attention the mysterious stranger had already gotten a bottle of the wine you were drinking and poured you a glass. “H-how…how did you know what I was drinking?” He chuckled to himself knowingly and seemed to brush off your question. “I am Armand…your name…Miss?” He was so formal…so polite…it was weird but you kind of liked it. Your train of thought was off track again. “Oh um…y/n…” he listened attentively and smiled at your name. “It is unique…perfect for a unique beauty such as yourself.” You blushed subconsciously. “Thank you…”

He eyes filled with curiosity while he watched the way your chest lifted and fell or the thrumming of your heart the way its steady beat quickened the moment he made contact with you and how it had not stopped since. “You are afraid?” His held tilted slightly and you hesitated to answer. “No…I just feel like I’ve seen you before…it’s becoming a little too coincidental…” he smiled letting his tongue run over his teeth. “Coincidental? No…you have seen me before….” He spoke in a hushed tone in which he pulled himself closer to you his breath hitting your neck. “Yes you’ve seen me here…but I find that you enjoy going to the local book store, getting a crescent and coffee at the nearby cafe…and then here every weekend…” Was he stalking you…he smiled listening to the rapid beating of your heart his eyes watching the pulse in your neck. His fangs slowly extended involuntarily, but he hid them away quickly. “I um need to get some air…excuse me..” You were feeling dizzy and lightheaded…confused. You raced out of the door and began to hyperventilate looking behind you and you saw no one there so you decided it was time to go home. Finding your car you fumbled with your keys, but steadied your hand and quickly opened the door. Hopping inside you hightailed it home. Finally, in your safe space you exhaled it felt like you had been holding your breath since he approached you at the bar. It was pitch black in your apartment; quiet. You took this time to go take a shower and wash off this night.

Unbeknownst to you a stranger was watching your every movement. He watched the way your hands ran over your body as the water ran over every curve of your frame. He bit his lips as he laid in waiting not wishing to let his presence be known just yet. “Fascinating..” he thought to himself. He hadn’t found himself so intrigued by another being other than Louis and here you were taking up even that space within his mind. Since the first time he smelled your scent, saw you face, saw you smile, heard you laugh..he was becoming obsessed. After your shower you walked into your room which was still pitch black but the silhouette of another seemed to float within the corner. You were understandably startled and took a step back. Quickly turning the lamp on you saw who this uninvited guest was… “What are you doing here?” You actually saw him floating there his head tilted like it had before his eyes looking at your body wrapped in a towel. “I…am fascinated by you…and you left…I wanted to continue our talk.” You took another step back toward the door and he levitated further and with a swift movement his hand you were frozen in place and just as fast as you were stop in your tracks he sat you down on your bed before unfreezing you. “Please…do not be afraid…I find myself wanting you…desiring you…I’ve been with Louis for quite sometime and well he’s becoming bored with me. It’s putting a strain on our companionship and in my lonliness I found you…forgive me for following your day to day routine…but your beauty is captivating.”

His cold hand caressed your jawline and you shrunk away from it. His other hand grabbed your damp thigh and squeezed softly trying not to break you. You were after all so fragile. You wanted to run but there wasn’t a point…he was obviously not human..something else. He listened to the terrified beating of your heart and placed the hand that was on your thigh onto your chest. “I promise I do not wish to harm you…I just want a night with you….grant me that…I need to feel something other than sadness.” His pleading eyes and his soft voice made your heart calm a bit. He smiled at that and moved closer to you. “Just one night?” you asked reluctantly. He nodded in reassurance. “May I ask what you are?” you looked into his eyes curiosity within them. “I am a vampire…I do wish to feed on you while we…” You were a bit shocked but it did make sense. “Okay..you may do as you wish…just don’t kill me please.” He chuckled at the last request and held onto your hips pulling you closer. His cold kisses sent chills through your warm skin and caused you to shiver occasionally. He looked into your eyes and kissed your full lips. You responded back with a soft moan and began to kiss him back. He slowly took his shirt and removed the towel that hid you away from him. Those amber hues slowly took in your frame..curvaceous and soft. He sighed and crashed his lips into yours again his hands caressing your skin made you put an arch in your back. Armand took a hold of your wrist and placed sweet kisses along the pulse point. “May I?” you nodded softly a bit scared but you had already gotten this far. His free hands fingers found their way in between your legs and slipped between the slit of your cunt finding that sweet bundle of nerves and began to rub in circles while he widened his mouth and extended his fangs letting them sink into your wrist. You winced in pain and moaned in pleasure all at once. That excited him and his found a place between your legs. He moaned at the taste of your blood so sweet, full of beautiful memories. You were intoxicating and addicting. He pulled himself away even though he wished to almost suck you dry but he promised. He lowered himself between your legs and looked at that pretty little cunt of yours, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. Her body trembled and she bit her bottom lip, sighs and moans falling from her lips. He began to lap at your pussy and you responded with your hips rolling forward against his tongue. He enjoyed your responsiveness and enjoyed those beautiful sounds that he heard from you. Your fingers tangled into his hair and yours eyes rolled into your head. “Tellement belle et douce fille.” You trembled beneath him and his hands holding your thighs to your chest while he devoured you. He smiled at you in the glow of your orgasm and he quickly stood to remove his pants. He stood before you completely nude and you looked over his gorgeous body and large cock. “Are you ready…?” You nodded, “Yes…” he climbed between your legs rubbing the head of his cock against your wet pussy slowly slipping himself inside you. You gasped at the stretch and he looked into your eyes watching how your face changed. He looked to you in awe and moaned as well feeling the way you squeezed him, the warmth of your cunt was addicting. He slowly began to thrust slowly in and out of you and you not knowing where to touch or hold him he smiled at your apprehensiveness. Leaning forward he whispered in your ear. “Wrap your arms around me, love.” You listened and your arms lazily wrapped around his neck pulling him in. Your tits against his chest he enjoyed the closeness and began to kiss you passionately while he rammed himself into you. “That’s it give yourself to me..” he groaned into your ear and bit into your neck like natural. You were too enthralled by him to even care about what he was doing. The pleasure muddled your mind. “I want to keep you..y/n…please let me…” You were unable to say no you breathlessly whispered… “Please…”

Picking up the pace he trembled himself drinking from you. He bit into his own wrist and placed it against his lips. “Drink…” you were hesitant but the thirst that rushed over you made you drink without question. He continued to fuck you passionately; deeply the pleasure and the sweet taste of blood sent you over the edge. He joined you in your climax and let out a loud moan as he released his seed inside you. “I want to warn you the change will be painful…I need to carry you to my…our home…place you in my coffin to rest through it the sun will be up soon.” You nodded as an unbearable pain began to rip through you. “what about your other companion?” He kissed your forehead and lifted you within his arms. “He owes me this…do not worry about it.” He floated through the air and soon you were carried into a new place. It seemed a bit run down but it would be your place to share with him. He laid you down in his coffin. “I rarely sleep here so this will be yours now….i will lay with you through it.” His arms wrapped around your small frame and he let you bury your face within his chest. “Rest now…”

the “poor person who refuses handouts” is a classist microaggression, it tells poor kids that the worst possible thing they could do is accept help and that poor people who do get help are “lesser” (because anyone who does get help is always portrayed as screwing the system somehow, ie. “welfare queen”), as well as emphasizing to people that your pride is more important than your continued survival or general well-being.

[soberscientistlife]

When people cannot accept the truth, they ban it.