'Do you accept my apology?'
'I will when you finish it.'
Lestat sat on the canapé by the fire, bouncing her foot to the music. She's not in her usual silk Poiret tonight, but is instead beautifully draped in a chartreuse crepe frock. Her head, a golden mass of Marcel waves, with the rest of it crossed and pinned at her nape. The tips of her earlobes peek beneath her face-framing curls, as long vintage Fouquet opal earrings hang shifting in the firelight. She had wanted to go out and dance, but after a horrid fight with her femme, she now sits, pouting and staring into the fire with a cigarette dangling between her painted red lips.
AO3 ver. here
word count: 2,940 category: F/F rating: explicit fandom: Interview with the Vampire ship: Female!Lestat x Female!Louis warnings: NSFW, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, tags: one-shot, genderswapped, gender bender, female au, rue royale era, bickering wives, sexual redirection, gotta give something to get something
a/n: once again i am committed to promoting femloustat yuri and the iwtv genderbender agenda (what a rhyme!) this is the last one-shot i'll post until i finish my ongoing wip. super cutesy sapphic fun.
Sed Non Satiata
"I've Got the Girl" is playing on the radio.
Lestat sat on the canapé by the fire, bouncing her foot to the music. She's not in her usual silk Poiret tonight, but is instead beautifully draped in a chartreuse crepe frock. Her head, a golden mass of Marcel waves, with the rest of it crossed and pinned at her nape. The tips of her earlobes peek beneath her face-framing curls, as long vintage Fouquet opal earrings hang shifting in the firelight. She had wanted to go out and dance, but after a horrid fight with her femme, she now sits, pouting and staring into the fire with a cigarette dangling between her painted red lips.
She is aware of her lover's presence by the entryway, but she pays her no mind.
Now they're playing "What Can I Say After I Say I'm Sorry?"
Her lover had changed into the pale lemon sailor sweater set that Lestat had bought for her last week.
Wicked girl, she thought.
The yellow was beautiful on her light tawny complexion. And the knit moulded deliciously around her hips.
Louise walked into the lounge with those measured steps that always irked Lestat.
She stood by the fireplace and rested her arm on the mantle, but Lestat refused to look up at her.
This was a great struggle, but if she betrayed herself and looked, she would most certainly concede as soon as she saw those bright green eyes.
'I suppose you want me to beg?'
That smooth lustre in her voice almost had her. Oh, Medusa's lull, the siren's call. Lestat took the cigarette out of her mouth and flicked it into the fire, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"—beg", she replayed in her head, so delectable in that Creole accent Lestat couldn't get enough of. She kept her gaze on the fire.
Louise kissed her teeth and moved off the mantle, and Lestat was sure she would leave, and then she would have her victory.
But instead, Louise stood in front of her and slowly bent down to her knees. Lestat's head tore away from the fire, and she saw those clever eyes of imperial jasper.
Louise sat perfectly still. Prim and proper with her legs astride. She'll warp the knit if she sits like that, Lestat thought.
Her eyes flittered over her, and it shot a tingle in Lestat. She stopped herself from smiling. Louise looked so girl-like, so young and almost naive-looking. Her beautiful bride, as lovely as on the night she first took her. They locked eyes, and Lestat lamented that she could no longer hear her thoughts.
The next song was "Am I Wasting My Time On You?"
'How much longer do you intend to sulk for?'
'For as long as I like.'
'Lestat…'
'Don't ruin your skirt.'
Lestat faced the fire again. She can sulk for eternity if she so chooses.
'That's not very becoming now, is it?'
She ignored her. It was like holding your hand over a flame, ignoring Miss Louise de Pointe du Lac. So warm and comforting until the flesh starts to burn.
'Oh, what am I to do?' The southern beauty sweetly mused to herself. She sighed and faced the fire as her épouse did.
'You'll be sulking an awfully long time then. Every night. All by your lonesome. It's gonna freeze up, and you're gonna be stuck just like that forever.'
'Shut up, Louise.'
'Miss Sulk, that's what they gon' call you. Is that what you want? Hmm?'
'Dégage, fille!'
'You'll have to make me because I ain't moving, cher.'
Louise faced Lestat again, and the latter could feel her gaze on her, burning her skin. Her lacquered nails dug into the armrests.
'Looks like I've made my femme so mad. Got her hollerin' at me now. And all I'm trying to do is make her happy. Ma femme likes to live large with all her ice and furs, ridin' 'round in that brand new motor I got her. But you don't want that any more. Naw, you just wanna sit there and mope and act the fool and blow smoke out your nose like a lil choo-choo train.'
Louise burst out laughing. And what a sound it was. Like music to Lestat's ears, which made her pout even more. She faced her, and she fought viciously with herself not to scoop Louise into her arms.
The jaunty tune "Baby Face" played now. They usually got up and danced to this one together, but neither one moved.
Louise mouthed the lyrics, bobbing her head to the music while wagging her brows. A begrudging smile crept on Lestat's face.
'Is my baby still upset? Tell me, baby, what can I do for you? Hmm, baby? My sweet baby.'
'Don't act like one of your father's whores.'
The smile left Louise's face, and she sighed out loud, rolling her eyes.
Truthfully, Lestat likes it when Louise puts on her baby voice and enjoys it when she plays the coquette. She delighted in Louise's feeble attempts at apologising, and even more knowing that it hurt her pride every time she had to do it.
'Come on, big mama. I said I'm sorry, didn't I?'
'You're not sorry.'
'Désolé, mo l'amour! You know I am! Hmm, mon mari? Why you actin' so…'
Lestat refused to budge, and Louise tried to release the tension in her shoulders and faced the fire again.
Lestat stared at her. Louise struck a handsome profile. Her long hair in soft, wide waves swept around her head and was braided across the back. They both refused to cut their locks, as it was a hassle to keep the style when the hair grew back overnight. Louise would have her woman come when the sun set, with her range of odd iron contraptions and balms and press her hair straight every evening.
Louise turned and caught her staring at her. They both kept their eyes locked. Lost in each other.
'I do not accept your pitiful entreaties.'
Lestat uncrossed her legs.
'Make a proper apology.'
She lifted up the bottom of her dress to her hips and thumbed the waistband of her panties to pull them down.
Louise sighed and took hold of her panties when they reached her knees, and Lestat took one leg out. She spread her legs open to her lover.
'You can apologise now.'
"Charmaine" played next, waltzing around the room. "I wonder, when bluebirds are mating, will you come back again?"
Her eyes flicked up and then down at her glistening, downward lips, and Louise drew languidly closer. She placed her two fingers on her flushed folds and watched as her juice slid down them and onto the plush fabric of the cushion. She used her fingers to part her lips and open her.
Lestat flinched as Louise took her finger and lightly touched her clitoris. A bead of crystal fluid dripped out of her.
'I'm sorry for making you all teary down here. All like this.'
She put a little more pressure on the rising dial. A small lump of regret sank in Lestat's stomach as she began to whimper from her touch. Louise knew all her buttons and all the avenues she could take to make her a fool.
Lestat was bald down there. She only ever shaved if she was going to see that boy of hers. That ridiculous uptown boy with his blond locks and wide, goofy ass smile. He hung around the jazz musicians obsessively like a gnat, all "ducky" this and "cool" that and rang their line for the Frenchwoman every evening, crooning for her juicy "gams".
Lestat began to tremble as Louise ran her fingers over her inner thighs.
'Look at you doin' all that wigglin', and I haven't even started yet.'
Lestat hated how easily she became sensitive and how she always melted under Louise's touch. She could barely answer, or one could barely hear her whimpers under the radio's music.
Jelly Roll's "Black Bottom Stomp" came on blazing.
'Poor baby, I'm sorry.'
Louise lightly drummed her fingers between the crease of her thigh and smiled to herself every time Lestat flinched.
'Fu-fuck, fuck, fuck…stop!'
'You want me to stop?'
'Oh, you! Stop—arrête de jouer avec moi!'
'Now, you'd better act right if you want me to "properly" apologise. Quit moving and quit all that hollerin'.'
Lestat took in a deep breath, fury in her eyes and breathed out.
Louise smiled at her. 'Good girl.'
Her eyes locked on her lover's soaking grove. She gently blew on it, watching her squirm and whinge.
'Look at my poor baby. All soaked through. Getting all messed up just 'cause of me? Is that right, cher?'
'Oui! Maintenant, excusez-vous!'
'Pardon, pardon, pardon.'
Louise drew close and flattened her tongue against her clitoris. Hunger should be fed, and she was a provider after all.
"Because I Love You" began to play next.
Louise drags slow, long licks from her slippery entrance to her pulsing button. Long and slow. It drove Lestat insane. She curled her tongue through her folds, especially on the right side, where she was most sensitive.
'Lèche-moi, lèche-moi plus vite.'
She ignores her pleas and her desperate gasps as she continues her long, painful licks. Drool down her chin. She knows what Lestat is like, and she won't make it easy for her.
She slapped her thigh hard, which made Lestat jolt.
'Quit bucking, or I'll bite.'
'Yes, please! Yes, yes, bite me, mon amour!'
Louise drew back and opened her mouth as her fangs descended. She turned and dragged the sharp edge on Lestat's pinkened flesh. Little ribbons of blood beaded from the skin, and she took her tongue and licked it up, kissing her softly as the wound healed in a second. Lestat started her bratty whining.
'No, no, no fair! No fair! Do it properly, ma cherie!'
'Behave.'
'No! No! You..big meanie!'
Louise burst into laughter again, 'Where'd you learn that from?'
Lestat shook her head and pouted. 'Big fat meanie…head.'
No matter how much she voiced her displeasure, Louise secretly loved her little brat prince.
'"Big fat meanie head", huh? Is that right?'
Louise slapped Lestat's thighs again, leaving a red mark where her hands gripped her to stay open.
Poor Lestat was soaked as her blushing folds began to ripple from the liquid oozing from her.
'Mmm, I like this song.'
"The Girl Friend" came on, and Louise traced little soft kisses on the inside of her girlfriend's knee and down her thighs to meet her wet mess.
Lestat threw up her arms and grabbed the backrest of the chair. She squeezed her eyes tight.
Louise brought her tongue to her clitoris again.
'Méchante, méchante fille. Ahhh, enfant méchante', Lestat moaned as she opened her eyes and watched her femme tease her with light licks.
'That ain't very nice. I need you to be nice, be sweet. Where's my good girl?'
Lestat could be good. She could be good for her.
Louise continued to rub little circles on her clitoris with her tongue faster this time. Lestat's legs began to tremble as the heat rose throughout her body. The hairs on her arms tingled as they stood.
Louise took hold of her hips and brought her closer to the edge of the chair.
Both of them locked eyes with one another.
The radio began playing the intermezzo, "By the Tamarisk".
Lestat could no longer hold in her cries of pleasure as she watched her lover lick her. The irony was delectable as she watched Louise swallow her whole. The same girl who thought of cunnilingus as a disgusting, degrading act when she first met her.
She'd become very skilled at it under her tutelage. Every lesson a touch, a taste, made to force Louise to abandon all of the backward moral teachings of the Church.
Lestat relished in such voracious delight as her angel, her sweet Santa Louisa,—Oh dolce Santa Luisa, misericordiosissima e dedita al sacrificio di sé, look how they had caged you, locked you away and starved you, beat you into submission!—relished in watching how her lady finally cast away her facade of propriety, take her into her mouth and with her tongue, turned her teacher into a mewling, crying, wanton whore. Her most capricious child, her lovely Louise. All mine, all mine.
'I'm…I'm good…see?'
Louise smiled and moaned into her, making Lestat throw her head back in blissful delirium.
She sealed her lips around her, clinging onto her plump pearl and began sucking like one would eat a juicy peach, sopping up all the juices so as not to miss a drop.
Lestat was mortifyingly aroused and hard, pushing against Louise's tongue, shaking her hips as she moved to the dance with Louise's rhythm. Louise's hand snaked up, over her stomach, damp under her finely woven dress, and up to fondle her breasts, which Lestat gladly pulled out of her rose pink slip. She swooned as her fingers gently pinched her hardened nipples.
Lestat wanted her tongue on her nipples as well. Wanted her tongue everywhere—her neck, her back, her armpits, her belly button. She shivered at the images that flooded her mind as the heat flew straight to the places of her wanting. She was melting, her skin bleeding sweat, the heat from the fire enveloping her, electricity pulsing throughout her body; she wanted to cum. And just as the desire for the climax grew, Louise pulled off.
Under Lestat's betrayed cries, the radio played Gershwin's "Fidgety Feet".
'You lookin' like you 'bout to rip my head off, cher.'
A blackberry smile on her lustering lips. Kissproof.
'Oooh, more than that, my sweet.'
Louise tilted her head and winked. She looked like she was going to slap her again, but then didn't. Lestat was steaming.
'Do you accept my apology?'
'I will when you finish it.'
Louise smiled at her, watching her squirm and rile up.
'Ughh! You want something! Just tell me quick!'
Louise's smile widened, flashing her beautiful, pearly-white teeth.
'How did you know?'
'LOUISE!'
'I want you to buy the Fair Play Saloon from Daddy.'
Lestat scoffed. 'Do you want me to buy his soul as well, Mephistopheles?'
'Yes. If you can.'
'You callous whore!'
'Who, me?' Louise rolled her eyes and sweetly smiled with a sigh.
Lestat was growing impatient, and she suddenly realised she was caught in a trap. A trap set way before the events of this night. Renarde rusée! But she was too far gone to care about that now.
'I promise, ma chère. Anything for you.'
'Are you still mad at me?'
'No, no! Never! I'll be sweet.'
'Will you? Seras-tu douce avec moi? You gonna do it, just for me, baby?'
'Oui, ma femme, mon seul amour.'
"There Ain't No Maybe In My Baby's Eyes" came trotting on the radio.
Louise latches onto Lestat mercilessly, drinking her thick sweetness. Her tongue moved back and forth along the ridge of her slit. Her tongue lapping strings of Lestat's slicken threads. She finally slips two fingers smoothly into her eagerly awaiting cunt.
Lestat tried to hold back despite wanting to cum so desperately. She wanted the pleasure to keep. Her head, crackling and popping with every stroke of Louise's fingers, a squelching song surging her ecstasy within and throughout, from her head to her toes. Her hose sliding off her legs, her panties barely hanging on her foot. Lestat was falling, falling into that pure white void.
Then, she was instantly launched into Heaven as the orgasm hit.
Lestat was turned into nothing more than a debased animal. Thrusting her hips, grinding her pussy against Louise's mouth, leaking down her chin. She let herself indulge in her body without restraint as Louise continued past the initial orgasm, making her moan out more and more. Her tongue rapidly sucking and peeling back the hood of her clitoris, back and forth, so intense Lestat could feel she was going to cum again.
The horns, drums, and piano keys blurred around them into a mash of sound.
Her spine curved, almost falling off her chair as Lestat trembled into another orgasm. Assault after assault—Louise was surely trying to finish her. But Lestat obeyed, adjusted her body to her lover so that she endured more waves of love. Her fingers kneading that spot inside her, her tongue pinching and stroking her swelling, ruined pearl. She was reduced to sobbing fits.
With a wanton scream that shook the walls and the chandeliers, Lestat burst on Louise's face, dousing her in her watery essence. Yet, Louise continued to suck and fuck her into a maddening rapture.
She likes to hear her scream and cry like a bucking slut, forcing her past her limit. Revenge, of course, for their first night after she accepted the Dark Gift and Lestat was ruthless with her, her feral lioness desire, feverous to corrupt and deflower her virgin bride.
And she will have her again once she regains her sanity.
Lestat collapses back onto the canapé. She closes her flushed, soaked legs, letting the tremors shoot down her body.
Louise, her knit top soaking wet, takes a handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her mouth as if she just enjoyed a good meal.
She stood up, looking over her mess of a woman. Her nipples, piercing dots under her wet top.
'I'm glad we made up.'
Lestat could barely speak but to say, 'Ma méchante femme.'
Louise turned and walked away from her dishevelled spouse as "Tonight You Belong To Me" croons from the radio.
