"C'est faux, elle ment! (That's false, she's lying!) Louis, do not allow her to lie to you! She must have been with someone else!" Lestat shouts at his vampiric lover, you had come home with a rat in a cage and a handsome young brunette male for Lestat to sink his teeth into.
Lestat hadn't even noticed the tiny little beat in your lower abdomen, a heartbeat like a little bird. It was Louis who picked it up, the subtle fluttering. It's like time slowed and the only thing he could hear was a soft thump, thump, thump and before he knew it his hand was against your belly, wanting to caress the child through your skin, his lover's skin.
Lestat dropped the brunette with a careless thump as soon as he saw it, his ears perking to the sound. His eyes narrowed and his stomach churned by the meaning of this of what you'd done. In an instant Lestat's anger got the better of him and threw whatever was closest, a heavy motorbike to which Louis just barely stopped it from hitting you by a few inches due to his nature to only drink animal when he's not drinking from you.
"The Dark Gift does not give life, Louis! It takes it like a thief in the night, we cannot provide life, we take it and stop it for those we are greedy enough to keep for ourselves! Elle ment!" (She is Lying!) Lestat's hands grip the collar of Louis's shirt with a look of betrayal and rage in them all directed at you. 'How dare you cheat on him and Louis when they give you everything you could want or need?'
"Lestat, she's not lying. I saw it in her eyes and heard it in her heart. She is not lying, she's confused and scared." Louis's hands gently came up to rub Lestat's wrist to try to calm his racing mind and his troubled heart.
"Her heart was racing like a dull lamb scared of the slaughter, she has been with someone else Louis, do not let your heart blind you."
"Her heart is racing because you threw a heavy motorbike at her! If I hadn't done something to keep it from crushing her she'd be dead as we speak, Les!" Louis's body moves to you, his back to you to keep you safe from Lestat's anger. Louis always did that, always stepped between you and Lestat's anger issues. Turning his voice to you he pleaded, "Go inside, Ma Ange." (My Angel)
"You want to keep a lying whoring bloodbag alive in our home?!" Lestat's voice laced with disgust and poison as if you're but a mere object, how could anyone ever think to cheat on not only his lover but himself as well? His eyes are narrowed with hurt more than anything else now, he loves you more than he can admit and the audacity of you to do this?
"If you'll calm down we can ask her again and she can tell you, you'll hear it. She is not lying, Mon Amor. Just give her a-" Louis again speaks with a calming and careful voice trying to get the hot tempered blonde in a more understanding mindset.
"It doesn't matter what you or her say, it is not possible." Lestat cuts off Louis before he steps forward almost ready to cut your throat even before the baby is more than just a thought tonight.
"Lestat, she didn't even know she was pregnant before I told her." He again gently places his hands on Lestat's chest, his eyes silently pleading for him to calm down still. "Let's let the dust settle, let her get some rest and you can I can go hunting." He tries so hard to distract him, wanting his focus on anyone else's blood but yours, and the soft thumping of your heart in his ears along with the second one below it.
~ It's a few hours and Lestat has finally calmed due to a very playful and fun hunt of some couples on Lover's Lane, Louis even pretended to enjoy it to keep Lestat's mind on him and not on you or the child.
As they return Louis's hand stays steady on the back of Lestat's stylish coat as two sets of soft thumps fill their ears again, thump, thump, thump; one heart beating loud in sound and the other loud in what it might mean. Louis can see your mind, the exact picture of what you're doing now, dozing off while enjoying a Jane Austen he's purchased months ago. Your feet are up as the fireplace crackles to keep you warm, one of Lestat's robes around as you're clearly worried about him even though he had tried to kill you just mere hours earlier.
"Let's talk to her, keep a level head for everyone's sake. Please?" Louis speaks softly to Lestat in a whisper as he closes the metal gate to the front yard. His eyes trace the yard, the dead body was now gone, you'd removed the man and the incinerator's still burning his blood drained corpse. 'You shouldn't be lifting that while pregnant.' His mind quickly thought before he had a chance to think twice.
"Fine, I will be nice as long but only cause you asked." Lestat struts into the home you all three occupy with a bitter stride. "Come out, come out, where you are." Rolling his eyes, his anger again started to rise, as is your heartbeat.
"Les, give her a chance." Louis again reels in the short tempered blonde, walking in behind him as he listens to check and see if you've moved from where he saw you last.
"I- I'm here." Your voice stammered as did your heart with worry, putting the book down due to being afraid that Lestat just might rid your head free clean of your shoulders with the single swipe of his hand.
"Good, good! Want to explain why you're lying to myself and to Louis?" Lestat got in your face, Louis moving at the speed of light his hand finding purchase on Lestat's throat shoving him backwards down into the red velvet sofa with strength.
"Sit. Down." Louis's eyes protective as they'd always been of you since they saw you for the first time. Lestat had instantly seen the way Louis fell in love with you, the way same way Louis' eyes looked at himself.
"Fine." Lestat says with a sarcastic and patronizing tone, that shit eating look like he could again say 'I told you so.' "But answer me this, Did you sleep with anyone else? Yes or no, I don't want a long explanation of 'Yes, I did but I didn't."
"No." Your voice soft as you looked at them both, playing with the ties on Lestat's robe around your warm shoulders. The room is silent, nothing but four hearts beating, a bit of breathing, and the soft crackles of a fireplace. Every heart steady, no skipping, no racing, or stammering. You're telling the truth.
Louis's eyes then found Lestat's, the surprise, the disbelief melting as the proof and realization settled in. You hadn't been with anyone, you are indeed being entirely honest.
"Oh." The word so soft and low that you and Louis almost thought maybe it was but the wind or a creak of the house. But then Lestat's eyes softened, his eyes welling with red tears as he realizes what might've happened a few hours ago if Louis hadn't stopped the bike from crushing you, he'd might have lost you and the very real child inside you. He knows he's overreacted but he's not going to admit that.
"This should not be possible, Cherie. Vampires are not able to create life like this. It's supposed to be impossible."
"Clearly one of us can, I mean if she would've been with someone else we'd've smelled on her. Lestat, you know I'm right." Louis's hand came up to rub your back gently in soft circles, your heart calming at the feeling, strong as you take even deep breaths.
"Yes...I suppose would have. I believe I've let my mind and my past get the better of me...It is quite a blade in my side..." Lestat's now a lot more calm now as he gently places a hand on your belly. "Un petit, (A Little One) I never thought in my many many years that this could even happen." His voice slowly filling with happiness then suddenly as if he wasn't in a murderous rage a few hours ago, he picked you up and spins you around with a smile. "You and the baby shall want nothing, anything is yours, Ma Ange. (My Angel) You'll be such a beautiful mother." He speaks so much more softly and calmly as he brushes a hair behind your ear, his other hand moving to your still flat stomach.
Louis's smile widens, Lestat's temper finally has quelled itself; their lover having the one thing both of them have wanted for so long after Claudia died they needed something to bring them together and that was you and now here you are pulling them even closer with the child growing inside you.
Lestat becomes clingy quite quickly, buying a mountain load of clothes for you and the child. He either has them picked out or had made himself. The cradle is a baby coffin because of course the child needs to match.
Louis keeps you well fed like always even as your request get weirder and weirder by the day. He bought you a proper bed so you weren't crawling in and out of coffins every night. Each one of them is so caring and attentive, so excited for the child you carry.
Swamp Fever - Lestat/Louis/Original Female Character
Summary: Deep in the bayou, something hunts. All teeth, hunger, and no mercy for what runs.
Warnings: explicit smut, predator/prey, fear kink, free use in the swamp, bloodplay but make it romantic, double penetration
The damp mossy ground is soft beneath her bare feet as she runs, cool and slick, wet between her toes. Itâs a warm night in the southern bayou, and her shift clings to her skin, sweat dripping down her neck, her spine, her heart hammering inside of her ribcage.Â
The moon is her only source of light, guiding her through the thick oak trees, and she stumbles over a root, her arms flying out to catch her balance. She finds no purchase and falls to the ground, feels the earth soil her shift even further, her hands and knees grown filthy.Â
She dare not take any time to catch her breath, and up she flies again to flee further into bayou. She was taught better than to be out so far on such a night, a number of creatures lurking the dark. But itâs not snakes or alligators she runs from now. They are not the things to be feared.Â
Behind her, they move like smoke. Impossible to hear, creeping through the trees and over water as they stalk.Â
âPetite proie,â a voice sings out in the night, drifting from the treetops. âYouâre making this too easy.â
She freezes then, braces herself against a treetrunk, the bark rough under the soft skin of her hands, before she changes course and veers left.Â
But then another disembodied voice is there, in her head, sweeter than the first. âI can hear your heart, baby. I hear it dancing.â
It feels like it might burst with the force it beats with, pumping the blood hot through her veins, and she can hear it rushing in her ears. Knows that every beat sounds like a war drum to them, that it betrays her and leads straight to her no matter which way she turns.Â
She ducks under the hanging moss, presses her back to the tree and closes her eyes. Tries to hear any sound that might betray them but her human ears stand no chance. They have her cornered. With one more deep breath, inhaling the musk and cologne that drifts whenever theyâre near, she darts out again, racing across the waterlogged ground.Â
They let her get ten yards.Â
Lestat drops from above, landing before her in a crouch before he languidly stands tall. Not a single smudge of dirt or mud on his fine clothes, every article still neatly in place. No flush to his cheeks, no shortness of breath from the chase.Â
âTag,â he says with a smug grin.Â
She doesnât give up yet. She darts to the side, though he doesnât move an inch. He doesnât have to. Louis is already there, and she crashes into his chest, his arms around her in a flash. Itâs a gentle hold but firm, inescapable as they cage her in.Â
âEnd of the line, cher,â Louis murmurs.Â
For a moment she thrashes, but sheâs no match for his strength, and feels thrillingly, deliciously weak as he turns her to face Lestat.Â
âSuch fire,â the older vampire says, a note of admiration in his voice as he steps towards the pair. âBut the game is ours, ma cherie.â
Then, Louisâ lips at her ear, breath warm as he whispers, âYou ran beautifully.â
She sighs, relaxing into his hold, the want spooling hot and thick like honey in her belly.Â
âTook you long enough, monsieurs,â she says with a grin, though her breath is still ragged in her throat, her hair sticking to her face. âI was beginning to think the gators had gotten to you.âÂ
Lestat laughs at that. âI do love your imagination. Next time, we will set you loose in the cane fields. See how long your bravado lasts when the moon canât find you.âÂ
Then heâs there before her, his hand cupping her chin, thumb swiping away the dirt that clings to her skin. Louisâ hands fall to her hips, bunching up her thin shift, his lips pressing to the back of her head. She thanks the heavens for the support of the two men, whose bodies hold her up easily as they press on either side of her. The ache in her legs threaten to topple her over otherwise.Â
âWeâve worn her out, Lestat,â Louis says. âSee how she trembles.â
âNo rest for the wicked, Iâm afraid.â And then heâs slipping her shift from of her shoulders, and she lets it pool down around her waist before dropping to the ground, leaving her bare under the moonlight, bare to their hungry gaze.Â
âThis is hardly fair,â she pouts, and means to reach for Lestatâs waistcoat when his hand catches her wrist.Â
âYou set the rules, baby,â Louis tells her, his hand snaking around her body to tweak at a nipple. She lets out a huff of breath, head falling back against his shoulder, eyes squeezing closed. Sheâs been wet since their little game started, can feel it smearing across her thighs, knows from their hissing that they can smell it on her as she drips. Still, they toy with her, hands soft on her skin but never where she wants them most.Â
âPlease.â
âBeg louder,â Lestat tells her. âLet the swamp hear you.â
Propriety holds her back and she can only whimper, her knee bending as she lifts a leg up, attempts to wrap it around her loverâs hip, to drag him to closer to her body, to trap him just as sheâs trapped between them.Â
She presumes too much. Sheâs always been needy, greedy, inpatient. Sheâs spoiled, Lestat always tells her. They never deny her anything, could never. Even when she tells them she wants to be chased, hunted through the swamp, the adrenaline and the curated fear in her blood making it all the more sweeter.Â
They like it too. She can feel them, on either side of her, excited, hard, straining through their trousers. And as she wiggles and strains in their hold, she finds the world spinning around her as sheâs moved at inhuman speed, pressed against the nearest tree, the bark scraping against the bare skin of her chest, her breasts, her belly, a gentle hand resting on her forehead to protect it from colliding with the trunk.Â
She gasps as sheâs pinned, but then a figure is sinking before her in a blur of movement, Louis? and hands on her thighs are spreading her legs. She arches, ass in the air, a wordless plea, and she feels the hot, wet drag of a tongue up her slit. A moan gargles in her throat, the lick turning into a suck before he pulls back again and thereâs a sudden sting on her ass, a bite on the curve of her cheek. A yelp rips out of her, but pain bleeds to pleasure and she melts against the tree trunk.Â
He returns to her cunt, polishing his tongue on her clit, making her choke on her own spit, and she hardly notices the rustling behind her, Lestat as he strips leisurely out of his fine clothes. Smooth, sinewy arms around her, wrapping around her legs, her waist, her shoulders, fingers and hands trailing across her body and she canât follow, canât trace them back, is reduced to the pleasure they pull from her.Â
Fingers on her chin, tilting her head back, and she sees a flash of Lestatâs eyes before he pulls her into a kiss, swallows her keens as Louisâ tongue pulls her apart at the seams.Â
âDonât be greedy, Louis,â Lestat murmurs against her lips, his fingers sliding along the thrumming vein in her neck. âSave some for me.â
âIf you stop now, Iâll bite you myself,â she says with another gasp.Â
One more slow lick and then Louis pulls back. âGirl, you couldnât bite through butter now,â he says with a laugh.Â
Infuriating man, she wants to howl at the moon. But then he stands and she breathes a sigh of relief as she hears his belt slide from around his waist, the buckle hitting the ground with a wet plop.Â
âIsnât he beautiful,â Lestat murmurs in her ear. âSaint Louis.â And she looks back, sees the gleam of the moonlight on his bare skin, the tufts of dark hair smattering his chest, his gaze dark and heavy on her. She wants him so bad, she aches with with, feels the staccato of her heart, the jumpy weak feeling as the wave desire and adoration threaten to take her under.
âDo you know what I envy?â Lestat whispers, his hands cupping her ribs, right below where her breasts lay, thumb brushing past every bone, feeling the rush of blood underneath, life in the palm of his hands. âThat heartbeat. He listens for it always.Â
âIt reminds us weâre thieves,â Louis says, and she can hear the barely concealed conflict slipping out through his words, even as he tries to tease.Â
âThen steal a little more.â
She sees something soften in him, perhaps at Lestatâs words, perhaps at the look she gives him, and he lets her reach out to him, pulling away from the tree to wrap her arm around his neck. Their lips find each other, and she tastes herself on his tongue as it swipes across her lip. And then, she turns towards his maker, extends a hand and pulls him in with them, accepting another kiss, her slick wet smearing from lips to lips. Slowly, he pulls back, and the two menâs lips meet over her shoulder in a heated kiss, wet and smacking, filthy sounds that make her weak in the knees.Â
They donât let her drop.Â
Louisâ hands grip her thighs, Lestatâs on her waist, and together they lift her up, her legs wrapping around Louis, her arms going back behind her head to grip Lestatâs neck, his shoulders, whatever she can reach. Sheâs suspended in midair, trying not to flail, to let them maneuver her as they like, and she teeters as if on a seesaw.Â
âHold her still, Louis. Before this lovely creature hurts herself.â
Grip like steel holding her in place, and she feels his hard flesh pressing against her cunt, sliding through her folds. And then at her back, Lestat slipping under the curve of her ass, their cocks pressing where sheâs spread open for the both of them.Â
Her head falls back, neck exposed, and lips press hungrily to the skin there and she begs, pleas to the sky, the stars, to all the creatures in the swamp. Take me, eat me, swallow me whole. Give me your teeth, your hands, fill me this empty, aching space inside of me.Â
âJust like that, ma cherie,â Lestat whispers as Louis slips into her, and it feels tight, heavy inside of her, dragging against her with every flex of his hips. Her body already set alight, trembling, stuffed full and burning, when she feels Lestat rutting against her, his cock seeking purchase. Finds the tight little ring of muscle, the blunt head pushing inside of her, steady and unforgiving.Â
She sucks in a breath, then two, then three, feels tears stinging at her eyes, her grip on Lestat growing tighter. But she doesnât tell him to stop. Flexes her own hips, tries to sink further down on the two of them as they press deeper, separated only by the soft, thin wall of her cunt. Lestat is kissing the tears from her face, Louis sweetly telling her to breath as the pressure builds, and finally her body gives way to Lestat, relaxes around him, accepts him inside her, and sheâs fully impaled by the both of them.Â
The three of them groan in unison. The burn and stretch is beautiful, blinding as they fuck her. One thrusting in just as the other pulls out, over and over, never leaving her empty, a constant attack of pleasure that leaves her scrambling. But their hold on her is tight, and they are relentless. So she can do nothing but yip, and cry, and plead, held between the two of them, made for their pleasure.
Tossing her head back, she arches, exposes her neck to her men, her beautiful monsters. Breath hitching in her throat as she feels Lestatâs lips at her throat, his ragged breath, then teeth scraping against her sensitive skin. A playful nip before the fangs extend, and his bite grows true. Fangs sinking deep into her, the flow of blood that pools into his mouth, the drop that escapes and drips down to her collarbone. Euphoria.Â
She hears Louis groan, growl rattling in his chest and his hand wraps around her arm, pulling it to him. âNot too much,â she hears him whisper, though sheâs not sure if heâs talking to Lestat or himself. But then lips brush her wrist in a sweet kiss before he follows suit, fangs finding purchase, and he begins to feed.Â
She falls into that blissful haze where sheâs not sure where one ends and the other begins. Loves when itâs like this, when they become one flesh, blood and come exchanged, muscles moving together, grinding, deep, as if itâs her soul theyâre sending back and forth rather than her body. Sheâs nothing but a heartbeat, steady and strong as it pumps life into them, and wet heat that envelops them both. Reduced down to a deep, throbbing pleasure that remains endless. The concept of time is loss, it could be minutes, hours, years. Before and after forgotten, and all she knows is this.Â
She comes first. A burst of light behind her eyes, a fully body shudder as her jaw drops and she cries out, her voice joining the song of the cicadas. She clenches tight around them, pleasure zipping from where they pierce her to where they fill her, and she feels the drag of their cocks stutter, knows they arenât far behind.Â
It doesnât take long before she drags them over the edge with her. Through heavily lidded eyes, she watches Louis throw his head back, face twisting as if in pain as he snarls. Her blood shines in the moonlight, staining his pearly teeth, smeared across his lips and chin. The air, filled with the smell of copper and sweat and sex, and she splays her fingers across his neck, watching the blood drip from her wrist, smearing across his skin there too.
She thinks itâs that sight that causes Lestat to follow. He slams deep one last time, hips flush to her ass as he comes with a shout. He spills hot inside of her and she wishes she can see it, how sheâs dripping with the both of them, filled to the brim with their spend. Wants to see it dribble out of her, beads of pearls dripping down her thighs, just to collect it on her fingers to push it back in. Loves to be topped up, to be full of them, carrying them inside of her.
She focuses on the fantasy because she knows theyâll see it. And again they groan into her skin, rut against her a moment longer before gently slipping free.Â
âFilthy girl,â Louis whispers. âYouâll still be leaking us by sunrise, I promise you.â He pricks his finger on his fang, lets the blood bloom on the tip before pressing it softly against the puncture marks on her wrist, rubbing the wound in soothing circles. She feels Lestat do the same with the marks on her neck, and feels the skin piece back together, the mark fading so nothing but the smear of blood is left. Sheâs lightheaded from their feeding, weak, but in no mortal danger. They always know just how much to take to keep it fun, and thrilling. But never dangerous.Â
Lestat laughs, and together they gently guide her back down, allowing her feet to find the soft grass, their hands remaining to support as she stands on wobbly legs. âCome, mes coeurs,â he says, pulling them both close, hands sliding down their necks, their arms. âBefore dawn finds us misbehaving."Â
She can hardly see in the dark, but they find her discarded shift easily, help her slip back into it. Itâs filthy and torn, speaks of the night theyâve just had but she hates the feeling of it on her, misses the freedom of being bare under the sky. Imagines how she will slide into the coffin with them once they return to their apartment, clean after a warm bath, skin to skin once again, flesh growing cool as they drift to sleep.Â
The moon hangs above them in the Louisiana sky, the sounds of the bayou rich in the air, something splashing in the distance, life surrounding them. Sticky heat that clings, the squelch of the ground under their feet. Lestat telling a stupid joke at one side, Louis groaning on the other. Fingers intertwining with hers as they swing her over puddles. And together, they move through the night, laughter spilling, the three of them happy. So terribly happy.
pairing ; lestat de lioncourt x vampire!gn!reader x louis de pointe du lac
synopsis ; âyou turned him,â you said to lestat with a disapproving frown. louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. lestat didnât have to tell youâyou put the clues together and figured out that louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. âyou were always the selfish one, werenât you? i could never have anything for myself.â
words ; 3.8k
themes ; angst, a bit of fluff, vampires, polyamory
warnings / includes ; super toxic throuple dynamics, blood/murder, covers the first two episodes of iwtv, reader is a writer, louis is infatuated <3 and lestat is well... lestat...
there will be a second part (claudia incoming)!
You met Lestat de Lioncourt in 1780âsix years after he was turned, and three years after you. It was a wild and tumultuous affair the two of you shared. You and Lestat clashed just as much as you molded together. While he was possessive and greedy, you longed for freedom and space. Eventually, after many bloody rows, the two of you parted ways with reluctant, half-sincere promises of a distant reunion.Â
Louis de Pointe du Lac was yours before he was Lestatâs, as he oft forgot. By 1908, you were a regular patron of his establishment in New Orleansâthough less for the sex and more for the stories. The women there were immeasurably fascinating. With enough liquor and sweet talking, they would answer each and every burning question you had. When Louis caught wind of one of his customers bringing pencils and parchment of all things to the bedrooms, heâd confronted you about it, curious as to what you were doing to the working girlsâespecially when they always came out flush-faced and giggling.
âIâm a writer,â you told him with a sweet smile. Close-lipped, hiding your fangs. âI hope you donât mind. The women here have lovely tales to tell.â
Louis returned the grin after a second to overcome his surprise. âIâm sure they do. Why here, though?â
âYour establishment has the highest rates of colored women. Not many are willing to listen to what they have to say.â You fiddled with the buttons on your jacket, and tipped your head down into a nod. âIâd best be leaving. The night is late, and the sun will greet us soon.â
âNot a morning person?â Louis asked, falling into step with you as you made your way to your convertible.
A huff of a laugh fell past your lips. âYou could say that, yes.â
From then on, Louis went out of his way to greet you like clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday you came, bright-eyed and pencil ready. Those days, Louis watched you come by nightfall and leave before morning dawned, always making sure to exchange pleasantries. One of the nights, you asked if he had any stories to tell youâthough there was little talking or writing that night. It was hard to jot down what he was telling you with his head between your thighs.
You were, by no means, a possessive vampire. You liked to keep your options open and drift from place to place. But around a year and a half later, you heard of Lestat landing in New Orleans, sucking the furniture stores and libraries dryâand setting his eyes on Louis. Your Louis.
You and Louis were not lovers, and the same would apply to your and Lestatâs relationship. You would say you were far closer to being friends with the two than lovers. Though⌠the prospect of love was not a far away concept to you. Not when it came to Lestat and Louis.
âYou turned him,â you said to Lestat with a disapproving frown. Louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. Lestat didnât have to tell youâyou put the clues together and figured out that Louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. âYou were always the selfish one, werenât you? I could never have anything for myself.â
âIâm sorry, did I spoil your little toy?â Lestat said, leering over you with a grin.
âHe wasnât a toy. Heâs a friend.â
The blonde vampireâs hands reached out to caress over your face, soft and cold. âA friend that you fucked.â
âOn occasion.â Your nose wrinkled. âYou fucked him, too.â It wasnât a question, but a statement. It would have surprised you if Lestat hadnât fucked Louis.
âDonât be jealous, my darling,â he said, eyes glinting dangerously. âIâll fuck you, as well. You need only ask. It has been a long while, no?âÂ
He kissed you then, tasting of sweet blood and sharp wine. As angry as you were with him, you didnât push him away. With Lestat, it was hard to say no. That morning, you fell asleep in his coffin, limbs woven together. Come sunset, you were already gone.
It took you a few days to get around to forgiving Lestat. Louis made you softerâhis inexperience to vampire life was ever so endearing to you. When you explained to Louis that you were also a vampireâone with a deep history with his maker, he stared at you with widened eyes.
âItâs no wonder I never saw you during the day,â he said, Lestatâs arm slung around his shoulder. âBut why didnât you kill any of my girls? How could you resist it?â
âOlder vampires find it easier to resist temptation,â you told him with a dangerous, fanged smile. âBesidesâI wanted their stories more than I wanted their blood. I can find food⌠elsewhere.â
âElsewhere?â Louis glanced between you and Lestat, the first thought vanishing from his mind just as quickly as it came. âWait, were you twoâdid you⌠did he turn you, too?â
A bark of a laugh fell from your lips. âOh, Louis, my dear, no. Lestat may have left hundreds and thousands of fledglings in his bloody wake but I am not one of them. My turning will be a story for another time,â you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis smiled and nodded as if he was in a daze. To his side, Lestat looked visibly annoyed. Whether he was jealous of you or Louis, you couldnât tell.
Sharing is caring, you greedy whore, you said to him without moving your lips. Lestat only stared at you with those icy blue eyes and huffed out a dramatic sigh.
âWell, since the fledgling has already taken a liking to you, would you like to stay?â Lestat gestured around his decorated halls. âThere is more than enough room here for three coffins.â
As always, saying no to Lestat was usually not an option.Â
âYou could just say youâd like me here. Donât have to be dragging Louis into it,â you told him, patting his chest with a mocking simper.
âYes, yes, fineâIâd like you to stay, as well. Iâve missed you terribly.â Lestat moved closer to you as if he was going to kiss you, but you leaned away at the last moment and grinned at Louis.
âLouis, hon, how about we get a nice fire started and you tell me all about what mean olâ Lestat did to you the first few hours of your turning? I love hearing about new vampire experiences. Itâs been so long I can hardly remember mine.â You offered Louis your arm and gestured to the living room. The man looked to Lestat, almost as if asking for permission, but turned away just as quickly to take your arm.Â
Louis, in his hunger and youth, had impulsively killed an important man in town. Lestat had already angrily berated him enough whilst tossing the body into the cremator. You were more gentle with your approach, taking Louisâ hands and goading him to wash the blood off and change into a new set of clothes that werenât soaked with his kill.
The amusing thought that you and Lestat were raising a child and parenting together briefly crossed your mind. But then again, the two of you had both fucked Louis before and were most definitely going to again in the future, so perhaps it wasnât the best analogy.Â
âHere, put this on.â you handed Louis, stripped naked and scrubbed of the blood, a fresh button-down whilst Lestat was off cleaning up the mess Louis had made. âThat was real dangerous what you did back there, you know. Youâll get detectives sniffing around and swarming you like ants to a honey pot. They donât take kindly to black folk, neither.â
âI know,â he said, shrugging on the shirt. âI was hungry.â
âI know,â you parroted, though your tone was considerably softer. You placed your cold palm against Louisâ face and he leaned into it for a few silent moments. âJust be more careful next time, alright? Lestat and I have centuries of experience between usâyou can trust us.â
Louisâ face contorted at the realization. âSometimes I forget that this is gonâ be forever. That I wonât just wake up and you two will be gone. That Iâll be human again and my brother will still be around and my ma would still be asking me to come over to her house for dinner every Sunday.â
âForever isnât always a bad thing,â you said, voice soft and soothing. âIt is daunting, yes, but you still live from day to day just as the mortals do. Youâll grow more comfortable in your skin with time, I promise.â You hesitated to say the next few sentences. âLestat, as much as you admire his strength, is just as afraid as you sometimes. Heâs afraid of being lonely. I confess, I have been afraid to be lonely more than once myself, but I have made peace with the fact that I will be alone sometimes. Immortal life makes it inevitable. My point is, though⌠you arenât alone. Lestat is not as godly as you think he is.â
âAnd are you?â Louis asked.
âDo you think of me as godly?âÂ
One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. âMost of the time.â
âIâm still a person,â you reassured him. âLost to time, perhaps, but a person nonetheless. And you are, too.â
Your words seemed to placate Louis, though only momentarily. He parted his mouth open to say more, but Lestat dramatically stormed in the room, expression still creased with anger. After decades upon decades of knowing him, you knew by now that he would get over it eventuallyâit wasnât really that big of a deal. But Louis, quite shaken up by the kill and his maker furious with him, couldnât shrug it off as easily as you. The two of them went to their respective coffins angrily.Â
Hours later, whilst you were writing up drafts of your most recent discussions with a few townspeople, you heard the two of them quietly exchange words of apology and plans for the future from their coffins. You smiled down to yourself. The romance between them was strong, you knew. You wondered if you ever had the same connection with Lestat. Or even Louis. You were growing quite fond of him. And youâd always been fond of Lestat, even though he irritated you to no end.Â
When Louis bought the most expensive, the biggest, and the brightest club in the district, he made sure to pay all the working girls and musicians twice what they earned before. The doors were now open to anyone, not just folks with light skin. And he even had a room especially booked for youâalways decked with the finest pencils and pens and papers and books and the most heavenly chairs imaginableâLouis was a man who thought out your every need. It startled you to think that your fondness for him may be far greater than just fondness. How would Lestat feel about you falling in love with his fledgling? Louis was yours first. And before that, you and Lestat were also each otherâs for a time.
With Louis still at the club entertaining guests, Lestat heard your thoughts as soon as you returned from your workâyou didnât bother hiding your mind from him, because he had ways of getting information out of you regardless.Â
âI donât mind,â he said, greeting you as you changed out of your attire into more comfortable clothes for home. He hung by the doorway for a moment before slinking closer to you, running his hands up and down your bare skin. âWe can share, my love. I donât mindânot with you. And Iâm sure Louis wouldnât mind sharing you with me.â
âRather presumptuous of you,â you replied.
âNot presumptuous if youâre thinking it,â Lestat said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then several more up your neck. âDonât resist us. It can be the three of us together. Doesnât that sound nice?â
âThereâs a reason I left you in the first place,â you whispered. âYou are possessive and mean when you want to be.â
Lestat tilted your face so his lips hovered just an inch over yours. âThat may be true⌠but youâll stay for Louis.âÂ
It wasnât a question, but a statement. He knew you better than anyone undead or alive.
âI will.âÂ
âGood,â he said, and then kissed you as if he was going to devour you whole.
Many moons later, you walked into one of the houseâs many bedrooms, about to enquire if either of the vampires had seen your notebook lying around anywhere, when you saw Louis lying on the bed, tears of red slipping down his face. Lestat dabbed the blood away with a napkin.
âWhatâs going on?â you asked with a concerned tone, sitting down next to him on the mattress opposite Lestat.Â
âMy nephew,â Louis practically spat out the words as if they had scorched his tongue. âI was so afraid I would⌠I could hear his heartâhis tiny little heartâand I wanted to rip it out and eat it. Iâm a monster.â
There was a moment of silence as you studied the young fledgling.
âIf youâre a monster, what does that make me?â you whispered, leaning down to press your nose to the back of his ear. âYou didnât kill him, Louis.â
âNo, but I could have.â Another bloody tear slipped down his eye and slotted against his nose bridge.
Whilst Lestat wiped his face again, he said, âYou have to stop seeing them, Louis. Theyâll grow fearful of you if they havenât already.â
âNo,â said Louis, voice hoarse and quiet. âI canât do it.â
âItâs a rite of passage for all of us,â Lestat went on. âIf you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.â Knowing Lestatâs relationship with his mother, you found his words quite ironic. Louis didnât need to know about that right now, though.Â
âMy siblings spent many decades looking for me once I âdisappearedâ,â you told Louis. âIt hurt to distance myself from them, but I was protecting them.â
Louis glanced up at you. Sitting with your back to the lit fireplace, there seemed to be an angelic glow framing you. âI didnât know you have siblings.â
âHad,â you corrected. âThey are long gone now, though many of their childrenâs children and further generations remain. They lived long and happy lives even after I left.â
âI ainât never gonna have a family of my own, am I?â Louis lamented. âNo sons, no daughters.â
It was silent for a moment when you and Lestat locked eyes. The blonde looked back down at his fledgling. âWeâre your family, Louis.â
âYou should just throw me in the incinerator,â said Louis. âMake another one.â
âWhat a waste that would be,â Lestat remarked.
You nodded. âAnd if he did, I would rip him apart limb from limb. You are not replaceable, Louis.â
âThe both of us have been on this Earth for around two centuries and we can confidently report that you have no twin,â said Lestat. âNo one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddeningââ
Louis frowned. âSound like trash to meââ
ââas loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as youâve become. Youâre a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. Weâd have it no other way.â Lestat waited a second before nudging you to agree with him.
âYes,â you jumped to say, perhaps a second late. âLouis, hon, I donât want to force you not to see your family. Youâre free to tell them the truth if youâd like. Let them see you as a monster, as a murdererâbecause they certainly wonât see you in the same way we do. Iâm just saying⌠letting them go may be the less painful option.â
Louis squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. Though he said nothing, you knew that he knew you were right.Â
âHereâs an idea⌠letâs take a holiday,â ventured Lestat. âWhat about Rome?â
âRome sounds lovely,â you said with an excited grin. It had been a handful of decades since you last stepped in Europe. Most of your recent years had you traveling much of North and South America.
âRome? Rome, like, Italy?â Louis said, cracking an eye open to scrutinize his lovers.Â
âWould you prefer Rome, Wisconsin?â Lestat fired back, which made Louis sit up on the bed and shake his head.
âI canât just pick up and go to Rome. I got a business to run!â
You snaked your arms around Louis from behind and pressed your nose into his neck. You could hear his thoughts of how nice you smelled and smiled against his skin. âIâm sure you have many trusted work buddies that can manage the Azalea for a few days.â
Louis and Lestat bickered some more about transporting the coffins after that, as if they were an old married couple. You only listened in amusement and kissed down Louis' jaw.
Finally, Lestat relented his plans of Rome and instead brandished tickets to another opera.Â
âI can spend a few days apart from the two of you to go to Rome myself,â you said, arching your back as if you were a cat and sprawling down on the mattress to watch Louis and Lestat upside down. âI can bring back souvenirs. The Italians have the most divine oil paintsââ
âDonât go,â Louis blurted, interrupting you. âDonâtânot yet.â
For a moment, you studied him with curious eyes. His thoughts were telling you he wasnât sure if he could handle being left on his own with Lestat without you. Codependency was a common trait amongst vampire couples, you knew this, but that didnât mean it was at all healthy. Nonetheless, you reluctantly nodded. âAlright. I wonât leave. But we do have to get out of the country at some pointâitâs important to see more than America, Louis.â
âWith that, I concur,â Lestat chimed his agreement. Then, he seized both of your arms and began to drag you off the mattress until you laughed and twisted up to get onto your feet yourself. âCome, my darlings, Iâve had suits made for us.â
There was a methodology to going to the opera to keep eyes off of you. You would go in first, alone. Then Lestat, with Louis walking a pace behind him, masquerading as his valet. It was degrading, all three of you knew. But it was the early 1900s, and there was little more you could do without drawing attention from passersby.Â
Though the opera was a cheap affair, you were considerably entertained until the tenor entered the stage and began to sing all the wrong notes. To your ears, which were sharp, but not suited to the intricacies of musical notes, his singing was strangely off but still fine. To Lestat, however, he was not at all amused. His jaw muscles clenched and his fingers curled and uncurled over the sheet music he had brought. One glance his way and you already knew he had made his mind on who would be that eveningâs supper.
Hours later, when Lestat had taken the young singer to your hotel room, you wondered if he was planning on simply fucking some sense into him before biting into his throat. Instead, Lestat sat down by the piano and played the notes, forcing the singer to sing. He pointed out each and every flaw, tone growing harsher with each mistake.Â
Louis watched the two with a nauseous stomach and an uneasy mind. You tried to pull him away to another room, tried to kiss him until he forgot about Lestat and his fixation on the poor man, but Louisâ mind was adrift.
âLouis, this is meant to be a vacation,â you reminded him, massaging your fingers over his tense shoulders.
âHow can it be a vacation when heâs in the other room about to murder some guy for a note he sang offkey?â Louis asked, a tad too loudly for your preference.
âLestat gets this way sometimes. You know this by now. He gets angry, he gets sucked in, he gets tunnel vision until something is done exactly how he wants it to be done. It doesnât affect us, though, not really. Dinner is dinner, Louis.â
Louis crossed his arms. âYou have animals for dinner most of the time. And you kill people who deserve it. Lestat, he justâthat man could have a family, a whole life ahead of him!â
âThe same could be said for the people Iâve killed,â you replied easily.
âNo, no, itâs different!â he vehemently said. âYou killed the rapists, the child-fiddlers, and even the slave-owners back when they were still around! Lestat, heââ
âI know,â you said, tone firm. âLouis, I know.â
âDo you, though?â Louis shook his head in incredulity at your nonchalance and walked back into the main room where Lestat had just struck the young tenor across his vocal cords, destroying them beyond repair. âWhy do you do this, Lestat?â
The blonde licked the blood off his fingers. âWell, I like to do it. I enjoy it.â
âWell, I donât,â said Louis. âYou donât have to humiliate him like that.â
In a burst of outrage, Lestat yelled, âWell, I donât say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!â
You walked into the room at that, brows furrowed. âWill you two stop it? All this yelling and dramaâthis was meant to be a vacation!â
âHow can it be a vacation when we havenât even left this damned country?â Lestat bitterly replied. âI should have gone to Italy with you and left Louis here to scavenge through corpses until he rotted away.â
âYou donât mean that,â you angrily said, volume rising. âYouâve had decades to temper your anger issues, and yet you havenât changed a single bit!â
Lestat raised his nose in defiance, picked up the tenor (who had crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap), and swiftly carried him to the couch where he would slowly drain him of his blood. Louis took to sitting and watching the dying manâs last thoughts. A part of you wondered why, if he was so horrified by Lestat's cruelty, did he bother to stay and watchâthough you didnât stick around to ask. Instead, you retired to the bedchambers without saying goodbye to either of them. Lestat left you a chalice of the singerâs blood by your coffin as an apology of sorts, but it was left untouched.Â
working on a journalist reader au with loustat. I feel like journalist with loustat is a MENACE compared to her being with loumand, whatâs yall thoughts?
The air in the grand, living-room of the Pointe du Lac plantation was thick with the scent of magnolias, old dust, and the coppery tang that was the signature of your kind. It was a perfume youâd grown accustomed to over the decades, a sensory backdrop to your immortal life with Lestat. But tonight, the symphony of scents was different, underscored by a new, intoxicating note: Louis.
Lestat, in his glorious, impulsive way, had flown out into the humid Louisiana night, a golden blur of hunger and restless energy. Heâd left you in charge of your shared, fledgling companion. The word felt inadequate for what Louis was becoming. Fledgling suggested a bird, something fragile and flight-ready. Louis was more like a storm-tossed ship, beautiful and lost, and you were his newly discovered lighthouse.
And Louis, your beautiful, melancholic Louis, was curled into your side on the vast velvet divan like a seeking vine. A decade as Lestatâs wife had taught you many things, but thisâthis tender, fragile need in a fledglingâwas a novel and intoxicating delight. Lestat doted on you with a theatrical, possessive passion, but he was a pillar, an ancient oak; he did not need your care. Louis, however, was a sapling in a storm, and he clung to you with a desperation that made your cold, dead heart feel startlingly, wonderfully alive.
Two crystal wine glasses sat on the low mahogany table before you, filled not with claret but with a far richer vintage: the blood of a young artist Lestat had found near the cathedral, chosen specifically for its vibrant, creative sweetness. You reached for your glass, the deep crimson a stunning contrast against your alabaster skin. As you brought the rim to your lips, you felt the weight of Louisâ gaze.
Louis was watching you, his green eyes, always so full of a stormy, human anguish, now held a different kind of intensity. They were wide, luminous in the candlelight, fixed on your mouth with a fascination that was entirely, deliciously vampiric. He wasn't just looking; he was studying the way your lips closed around the rim of the glass, the subtle movement of your throat as you held the blood there. A raw, unspoken hunger radiated from him, one that had nothing to do with the sustenance in the glass meant for him.
An idea, wicked and sweet, bloomed in your mind.
Instead of swallowing, you let the blood pool in your mouth, a secret held behind your lips. You set the glass down with a soft click that seemed to echo in the quiet room. You leaned down, your hair a dark curtain falling to frame both your faces. His eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, a soft, questioning sound escaping him.
You closed the final inch and pressed your mouth to his.
The effect was instantaneous. A sharp, startled gasp was caught between your lips, and then he was melting. A low, desperate whine vibrated from his throat into yours as he tasted the blood, not from a glass, but from you. It was a transference of life, of intimacy, far more profound than any simple feeding. His hands, which had been resting limply in his lap, flew up to clutch at the silk of your robes, his fingers twisting into the fabric as if he were drowning.
He lapped at your mouth, not with human passion, but with a fledglingâs frantic need, his tongue seeking every last drop of the metallic nectar. He was desperate, tilting his head back to deepen the angle, to get more, to taste you beneath the blood. You allowed it, your own cool tongue meeting his in a slow, languid counterpoint to his frenzy, sharing the gift until it was gone.
You pulled back only a fraction, just enough to see his face. His lips were stained a darker crimson, his eyes dazed and black with desire. "Again," he breathed, the word barely a whisper. "Please."
And who were you to deny him?
You took another sip, held it, and offered it to him again in the same manner. This time, he was less surprised, more demanding. His hands came up to cradle your face, his thumbs stroking your jawline as he drank from your mouth, the act becoming less about sustenance and more about connection. By the third shared sip, the empty glass was forgotten on the table. He was grabbing at you, restless, trying to shift his body, to find a position where he could be level with you, where he could be the one to initiate the kiss.
You let him. You leaned back against the plush arm of the divan, and he followed, half-covering you, his body a long, lean line of tension against yours. This kiss was different. There was no blood, only the cool, clean taste of him, the lingering hint of his own unique scentâold books, regret, and night-blooming jasmine. It was slow, deep, and exploratory. A human kiss remembered and perfected by a vampireâs senses.
It was then you guided his hands, placing his palms flat against the swell of your breasts, right over the intricate lacing of your corset. He jerked as if burned, his eyes flying open.
"Lestat," he whispered, his voice thick with conflict, his forehead dropping to yours. "You... you are his wife. This... this is not right. We cannot..."
A low, throaty laugh escaped you. âOh, my sweet Louis,â you murmured, your own hands moving to the hem of his linen shirt. You slid them beneath the fabric, your cool palms skating up the deliciously cold skin of his waist. He shuddered violently, a full-body tremor that spoke of centuries of sensation compressed into a few months. Your thumbs stroked over the hard planes of his abdomen, and you felt the fight drain out of him. His protests died in his throat, replaced by a soft, ragged sigh.
"You think in such human terms, my dear Louis," you murmured, your voice a low, soothing melody. "A vampire's companion is not a business partner. It is not a mere friendship." You leaned in, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, your fangsâsharper and more defined than his fledgling caninesâgrazing the sensitive skin. He jumped, a helpless sound escaping him. "It is a bond of blood and eternity. It means you belong to Lestat. And it means," you whispered, pulling back to look into his wide, glazed eyes, "you belong to me."
That was all it took. The last vestige of his human morality shattered. His hands, which had been clinging to your robes, became frantic. He fumbled with the intricate laces of your corset, his elegant fingers made clumsy by need. He tugged at the laces of your corset with a fledglingâ impatience, the silk groaning in protest. You helped him, your own movements swift and sure, until the constricting garment loosened, and he could push the silk of your dress and chemise from your shoulders.
In turn, you made quick work of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. Your mouth found his neck again, not to feed, but to worship. You trailed open-mouthed kisses from his jaw down to his collarbone, your fangs tracing a delicate, threatening path over his pulseless throat. Each graze of a sharp tip made him jerk and twitch beneath you, his hands tangling in your hair, not to pull you away, but to hold you closer.
"Please," he begged, the word a broken litany. "I can't... I need..."
"I know."
Your mouth found his again, more demanding now, as your hands went to the fastenings of his trousers. He gasped into your mouth, his own hands roaming over your bare shoulders, down your back, learning the map of you with a reverent urgency. The fastenings gave way under your insistent hands.
Soon, he was bare beneath you, his skin like polished marble in the candlelight. You rose onto your knees, hiking up the light layers of your skirtsâthe simple, comfortable ones you wore within the privacy of the houseâuntil they pooled around your waist. His eyes were dark pools of want, his cock hard and flushed against his stomach. He looked utterly debauched already, and you hadn't even begun.
You positioned yourself over him, one hand braced on the back of the divan, the other guiding him to your entrance. âLook at me, Louis,â you commanded softly.
As you sank down onto him, a choked, sobbing gasp was ripped from his lungs. His eyes flew open, staring up at you in stunned, overwhelming ecstasy. It was nothing like his human experiences. This was not the warm, quick coupling of a mortal body. This was a joining of two cold, supernaturally sensitized beings. Every nerve ending was alight, every sensation amplified a thousandfold.
You set a slow, deep pace, wanting to draw this out, to savor every hitch of his breath, every helpless twitch of his hips. His hands clutched at your thighs, your hips, anywhere he could hold on. His eyes were screwed shut, his beautiful face a mask of overwhelmed ecstasy. His head fell back against the velvet, exposing the long, elegant line of his throat.
"Oh, God... oh, mon Dieu..." he babbled, his words slurring into incoherence. "It's... it's too much... don't stop..."
You cooed at him, the sound a soft, dark comfort. "Shhh, my love. My needy, beautiful boy. Let it be too much. There is no shame in it."
You maintained the slow, deep pace, watching him come apart beneath you. The knowledge that any of his servants, the very humans who had once tended to his mortal needs, could walk in and see their master like thisâbrought to a state of whimpering, desperate pleasure by his maker's wifeâonly seemed to fuel his arousal further. His hips began to stutter upwards, trying to match your rhythm, but he was too far gone for coordination.
âPleaseâŚâ he begged, though for what, he likely didnât know.
âPlease what, mon cĹur?â you asked, your voice a low purr as you leaned over him, your hair curtaining his face.
âI⌠don't.âŚâ he babbled, his words slurring into incoherence. Whenever you deliberately increased your pace, even slightly, he would fall apart, his whines and moans becoming a nonsensical litany of your name, Lestatâs name, and pleas to a God that had long since stopped listening.
âThatâs it,â you whispered, leaning down to capture his mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing his broken sounds. âYou are ours, Louis. Forever. There is no right or wrong in the dark, only this. Only us.â
With a whine, his back arched clear off the divan, a broken, keening cry tearing from his throat as his release crashed over him, violent and all-consuming. The sight of him, so utterly lost in the sensation, was your own undoing. Your own climax followed, a silent, powerful wave that left you shuddering atop him, your own sharp cry muffled against his neck.
For a long moment, the only sound was the frantic, unnecessary panting from Louis. He was boneless beneath you, his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as if you were the only solid thing in his spinning world. You nuzzled into his neck, placing a soft, closed-mouth kiss over the spot where his mortal life had ended.
He finally found his voice, hoarse and wrecked. "Lestat..."
"Lestat knows the nature of a companion, Louis," you whispered, stroking his damp hair. "He brought you to me because he knew what I craved. And he knew what you needed."
Louis turned his face into your touch, his eyes closed, a look of profound peace finally smoothing the usual anguish from his features. He was sated. He was claimed. And as you held him in the quiet dark, you knew Lestat would return soon, his golden presence filling the room, and he would see the two of you, tangled together, and he would smile that wicked, knowing smile. For he had given you a perfect, needy thing to dote on, and in doing so, had bound the three of you together in a web of blood and desire that would last for all the endless nights to come.
Warnings/contains: dom Louis, dom Lestat, sub reader, belittling, oral (reader receiving)
Reader: gender neutral reader who was afab
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You hadnât even wrapped yourself up in a towel before Louis was onto you, his hand on your waist and his lips on your neck. He was soft and slow at first, peppering kisses over your damp skin before growing needy and, for lack of a better word, hungry. His teeth brushed against your skin, a breathy noise escaped your throat as you shuddered at the sensation. He pulled away with a soft breath, as if attempting to gain control of himself.
You met his gaze, feeling small as those vibrant, hungry eyes seemed to devour every inch of you. You felt frozen under his gaze, your stomach swirling with anticipation as he admired your form. Lestat watched the pair of you with the same fuelled expression, his lips curved into a smirk as he tied the belt of his dressing gown.
âWhat else do you need then?â Louis said in a soft tone, his voice buttery as he spoke down to you. âSince youâre so desperate tonight.â
Your breath quickened with excitement, it was rare when he took complete control with you. You paused, merely eyeing him over as you tried to think of what you really wanted.
âI think we might have to pick for them Louis.â Lestat said with a mischievous hum, fuelling the power drive Louis had.
âIs that it? You want me to pick?â He cooed to you, he was gentle yet mocking.
Before you could answer, he was on your neck again, kissing and sucking softly at the skin. He gently squeezed your hip, still expecting an answer from you.
âMm.â You nodded with a quiet hum, getting a little shy now that both of them were toying with you. âWhatever you want.â
Lestat chuckled as he snuck up behind you, he laid his hand on your other side, sandwiching you between him and Louis. A sigh of desperation fell from your lips, you felt completely powerless between the pair of them and you loved it.
âBedroom?â Louis shared a glance with his partner, who gave him a smug smile and nod. Of course you werenât involved in the interaction, just a witness, a toy waiting to be played with.
You were content as they led you to the bedroom, guiding you towards the bed. Lestat took a seat on the bed, leaning against a row of pillows as he watched. Louis laid you down on the bed, your back supported by the plush duvet, legs dangling over the edge. You watched as he got down on his knees, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable due to the sight of him and the anticipation of what was to come.
He lifted your legs onto his shoulders with ease, his lips immediately meeting the soft flesh of your inner thigh once he had lifted you up. He pressed wet, needy kisses over your skin, slowly working his way towards the place where you needed him most. Your eyes were fixated on him, your breathing shallow as you tried to stop yourself from desperately whining. Lestat could sense how needy you were and it fuelled his own growing desire, yet he remained quiet, not wanting to take the moment away from Louis. He ran his fingers through your hair, as if attempting to soothe you.
âSuch a tease..â He muttered, spurring Louis on.
Louis chuckled as he inched closer, the vibrations making you sigh with want. He met your gaze as his mouth finally met your arousal, his tongue slowly gliding through your folds and over your clit. You moaned, your brow furrowing with pleasure as he repeated the movement. You were especially sensitive after Lestat and you couldnât stop your thighs from gently quivering at the sensation. Louis had a smug glint in his eye as he gripped your thighs, his fingernails digging into your soft flesh as he drove his tongue into your cunt.
âFuck..â You moaned breathily as you relaxed onto the bed and into his touch.
Lestat let out a soft chuckle at the sight of you, his eyes following the curves of your body before stopping at Louis. They met each others gaze, exchanging a look of confidence and hunger. He didnât pause as they shared the moment, his tongue still gliding through your arousal. The blonde was smug, he leaned forward to get a closer view, which essentially trapped you between the pair. You looked up, admiring the way his hair fell down, creating a halo type effect as he stayed over you. His lips were parted and turned up in a smile as he watched his partner devour your cunt, his eyes wild with amusement and desire. You let out a soft whine, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the sensation of Louis and sight of Lestat.
âEyes on me.â Louis muttered, gripping you a little tighter.
You hummed in response to him, letting your gaze fall back to him just in time to see him pull you closer. He moaned against you, his nose practically pressing against your clit as he shoved his tongue further into you. His eyes were bright, pupils wide and brow slightly furrowed. He looked like a beast, a beautiful beast preying on you. A long sigh turned into a moan as he continued to fuck you with his mouth, your back arching as pleasure began to overwhelm your body.
â..Louis..â You whispered, eyes shutting with pleasure as you tried to contain yourself.
He chuckled against you, he was tempted to scold you, tell you to scream his name..but he was enjoying the taste of you too much to pull away.
âHe told you to look, little dove.â Lestat gently grabbed your head, forcing you to look at Louis.
âMmphâŚIâm sorry.â You whined as you locked eyes with him again. âItâs too much..â
âMhm?â The blonde cooed. âHow does he feel?â
âSo f-ucking good..â You moaned, voice getting louder as the pleasure grew more intense.
The pair of them hummed smugly at your response, each of them overexcited that they had you so tightly wrapped around their fingers. They were hiding it well but they were equally as desperate as you. Louis was close to loosening one hand and palming at himself, his hard on becoming almost unbearable. His cock twitched every time you moaned and clenched around him, your quivering form drove him crazy. You could see Lestat slyly touching himself out of the corner of your eye, his hand moving slowly and gently through the gap in his bathrobe. The thought of them both being so worked up over you was enough to make you snap.
âFuck..Louis..â You groaned lowly, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets as your orgasm hit.
Your moans became breathy and high pitched as he continued to trail his tongue in and over your cunt, coating himself in your slick. Your thighs shook in his grip as echoes of ecstasy soared through your body, his mouth making you whine and pant. He held you in place, big hands gripping onto the fat of your thighs, harsh enough to hold you still but not enough for those claws to pierce your skin.
âTired yet?â Louis muttered as he finally pulled away.
He looked smug as he looked up at you, lips and chin shiny with your arousal. You panted as you looked at him, the view of him like this making you giddy.
âMmh..â You nodded weakly, truthfully feeling a little exhausted after the pair of them had toyed with you.
pairing: switch!reader x switch!lestat x top!louis
warnings: 18+, p in v, oral (m receiving), caught, femdomish, lestat in a thong <3
a/n: yea i know louis was probably not the top but let me live (the word count on this is 666)
it started as a simple game of chess, you versus lestat. louis was out on club business and you were simply filling the time until he got back. you werenât sure who started the yelling or how it turned to kissing but soon the board was scattered on the floor as lestat backed you up towards the sofa.
his hair was soft between your fingers as you grasped at it, pulling him closer. the kiss was eager, your teeth almost clashing as you let him lay you back. you were on fire, every nerve firing as his fingernails traced your body. he was fluid in his motions, never stopping to waste time undressing you. he simply pushed up your skirt, pulled down your top and began his attack.Â
the tips of his canines traced along your breast before he wrapped his lips around your nipple. your eyes rolled back, a muffled whimper leaving your lips. his fingers traced up your thigh, dipping into the lace of your underwear meeting the warmth of your cunt. he tugged the lace down. he bathed in the desperation pouring from you, into him. your blood rushing, your heart pumping, the ache of his cock it was all too much.Â
you were finally able to recover from his attack, pushing him back you ghosted your lips over him. âyouâre being greedy.â
lestats face shifted, the blue of his eyes pooling with desire and devotion for you; to you. you let your body grind slowly over his, before moving to pop the buttons on his pants. you went to push them down when you caught a glimpse of lace, your breath caught in your throat. âare those mine?â you stopped your movements, mouth agape.
he was silent for a moment, âdo you like them?â his fingers finding their way back to you, significantly wetter than before. âoh you do.â his cocky attitude returned.
it was your turn to be speechless. lucky for you actions speak louder than words. you pushed yourself back down, going farther and further until you were met with the lace of your-his underwear. with intent, you slipped the lace of the thong aside and pressed a kiss to the tip. you made a show out of spitting on it, before licking and repeating. lestat had fallen limp against the couch, eyes half lidded as he tangled his hands in the length of your hair. you took him to the back of your throat before moaning and beginning to move.
you released him from your mouth before trailing kisses around his balls, kissing the skin of his perineum and back up to his tip. he was trembling, completely lost in the way you played his body, the way louis had taught you. the thought of louis almost made you stop-almost. as you took lestat back to your throat, the squelch of him fucking your mouth combined with the whimpering leaving his lips filled the room.
you swallowed against him, trying to control your salvia that had leaked past your lips and covered his thighs and the sofa. he pulled you back, eyes staring before you went to continue. âmy love, i need you.â
you nodded, rising to your feet. he pulled your skirt off, and ripped the last few buttons of your blouse before pulling you down. âitâs yours-take it.â he said, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. âi love you. i love you.â
you were trembling as you lowered yourself against him, sliding down onto him perfectly. almost as perfect as louis. your mouth fell open, eyes glazed over as you lowered and raised yourself over and over. youâd lost any sense of time, any semblance of control. you werenât sure when your climax hit, just that it knocked the wind out of you. you rested your forehead against lestatâs trying to catch your breath.
âstarted without me? now thatâs not fair.â louis said, leaning on the doorframe, nimble fingers loosening his tie. âwhoâs gonna apologize first?â
