#iwtv drabble

[hoetachi]

MONEY CAN’T BUY WHAT? — E. (STACK) MOORE + L. DU LAC

➠ mulan’s input; this for my baes @ichigosluvrr & @blond3ang3l because they understand my type of man!!

➠ drabble

this was getting strangely scary, well on your behalf it was. your eyes felt like they were gonna eventually bounce right out their sockets if you continued watching them outdo each other

“mon cher… you don’t think this ridiculous in any sorts?” lestat— who you kindly lathered your ego with compliments on well you sang tonight— rolled those artic hues with budding frustration as his “business” partner, louis who was currently going rake for rake with another fella. “not in the slightest” louis replied, his voice low, carrying that same intense look that had caught your attention earlier—flustering you enough to wonder if he was actually trying to call you with his mind

a deep, gravelly laugh cut through the tension at the table, “oughta listen to ya’ massa, boy,” stack drawled, flashing a golden grin that was equal parts charm and challenge. “ya’ gon’ lose ya’ life tryin’ to keep up with me.” stack—who had you giggling like a schoolgirl when he walked up with the energy of a longtime fan meeting their idol—winked and clicked his tongue at you, smooth as silk.

you watched as louis’ jaw clenched and unclenched before he threw out his wrist, revealing a watch you knew could buy your father’s house three times over “oh mista du lac, you don’t need to do—"

thud

“—all of that” as that very watch now rested pretty on the wads of cash both men been throwing since they both approached you. “mon chéri! that’s your favorite watch!” lestat stared baffled at him. you shared the same wide-eyed, concerned look, equal parts flattered and alarmed.

louis tilted his head toward you, calm but smug. “one date, chérie?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

you didn’t even get a chance to collect your thoughts before stack tossed a set of keys in the piles. “all red. brand fuckin’ new bugatti type 50 coupé” stack nodded graciously, taking your gloved hand and lightly pecked your knuckles

“…i think i’m in love” you muttered as you fanned yourself quickly. “here’s the keys to the azeala” louis tossed on the table next to the lavious car keys

“wanna own ya’ own juke joint in anotha’ state, baby?” stack asked casually, lounging deeper into his seat like he wasn’t throwing generational wealth around. your head snapped back to louis just in time for him to place a neatly sealed envelope on top of both sets of keys. “beloved, i’ll give you co-ownership of the azeala” stack leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, lips curling into a knowing grin

“do you enjoy bein’ human, honey?”

[bbambiiiiiii]

Armand watched Secretary(2002) EVERYONE CLEAR OUT. No, I’m just kidding, but I did write a Drabble about if he did 👀

Pairing: Devil’s Minion

Rating: 18+ but it’s not really explicit

“Have you ever… tried that?” Armand turned to Daniel, adjusting his legs underneath him, body dipping into the plush couch.

Daniel seemed caught off guard. He wasn’t expecting to be asked that. “Tried-” he paused, his mouth slightly open. He looked at the TV, then back at Armand, then back at the TV, and again at Armand.

They had just finished watching Secretary, a film Daniel had seen maybe a billion times over, but for Armand, it was his first time and he was curious.

Daniel cleared his throat, opting for the hopeful avoidance of the topic through clarification. “Um,” He links his fingers together. “What uh- what…specifically are you asking if I've tried?”

Armand smiles. He’s amused. He inches his body just slightly closer to Daniels, trying to indicate his intrigue—though for Daniel it felt more like Armand was coming onto him. “That dynamic. Their… relationship style. Have you tried that with anyone?”

Daniel blinks.

Has he.. tried that…

“No. I… haven’t had the chance to.” Daniel sniffs, trying to break the—one-sided—awkwardness.

Armand inches closer yet again, he’s now on his knees, almost crawling towards Daniel on the couch. His movements are cat-like, it would be cute under normal circumstances, but Daniel couldn’t properly focus.

“So you’re interested then?”

Interested…?

“What?” Daniel swears the room feels like it’s spinning.

At this point, Armand is on Daniel’s lap, his body completely shifting over, so his back is on his legs and he’s looking up at Daniel.

“That dynamic? Are you interested? You said you haven’t had the chance to try it, so you’re interested in trying it then?” Armand reaches up, brushing a finger across Daniel’s chin.

Daniel is quiet. He’d never fully thought about it. I mean he’d had ideas, he’d had thoughts about Armand but he never…fully fledged anything out. He wasn’t even sure if that’s what Armand meant by-

“I’m offering to try it with you, Daniel. I’m curious. Stop overthinking it.”

Armand lifts himself, pushing his hips back so he’s properly sitting on Daniel’s lap—albeit sideways—and he cups his cheek with his hand.

Daniel is taken aback, his mouth is left slightly open. “I- are you sure? I mean I’m not very good at telling people what to do and-“

Armand cuts him off, pressing a soft but lingering kiss to his lips.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckles slightly, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got it backward, Daniel.”

Daniel tilts his head, his mind still blank from being kissed on a whim.

“What?”

Armand pulls himself away, getting up off of Daniel, and stands up. He stares at the man for a second, his eyes are…sparkling.

“Can you hold your arms out for me?”

Daniel’s confused, but he holds his arms out in front of him anyway. “Is there something wrong? Do you need blood?”

Armand shakes his head, biting back a smile. “I do, but not from you.”

He sounds almost sadistic… like he’s mocking Daniel. “I’m going to go feed.”

He steps forward and wraps his hands around Daniel’s wrists. “And you.. are going to keep your arms right here until I get back.“

Daniel slowly nods, though he doesn’t look as if he fully understands. “Why… am I keeping my arms out?”

Oh, he’s so cute.

Armand slowly rubs his wrists with his thumbs. “Because if you don’t…”

He sucks a breath in, he’s getting worked up.

“Because… if I see you’ve moved these pretty arms of yours..” he slightly shakes Daniel’s arms.

“I’m going to bend you over this couch…” he presses a kiss to Daniel’s wrist.

“And I’m going to punish you for disobedience.”

Daniel doesn’t respond; the only hint that he understands being the shakiness in his breath.

Armand finally lets go of the man’s arms, letting them hang in the air, he’s sure they’re at least sore by now.

“Well, I’ll see you when I get back.”

[euthanasiadarkblues]

Daniel post turning, alone in the penthouse, finds Armand’s man-cave and gets a whole different side of him.

didn't mean for this to be so long oops!

Louis didn’t do vampiric birth enough justice. In his defense, Daniel doesn’t think he could either, if he tried. It’s impossible to describe–the pain of dying, of reanimating, of every sense being fine tuned until everything is everything. Being loaded beyond articulation is the best summary he can manage, so maybe the two of them weren’t too far off after all.

The emptiness of the penthouse feels vast. The silence reverberates, and there’s a certain hollowness he’s never felt before. A wrongness that feels biological, a taut string that starts in his chest and vanishes into distant mist. He knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to think it. Putting it into words would make it real. 

He doesn’t want this feeling to be him. His murderer, his maker. The bond that he had figured was just Louis spouting bullshit, that loosely defined tether which tugs at him now. 

It tugs him out of the living room, across the penthouse. He wonders how far Armand is, by now. If the dismal state of the bond serves as any indicator, he must be miles away. It’s infuriating. Daniel wants to gouge the bite in his throat open, force his blood to pour back out. Bleed the feeling from its source. 

The thing is, he almost feels incredible. There’s the gnawing of hunger, but that’s easy enough to dismiss. Daniel knows a thing or two about ignoring bone-deep cravings. He’d feel elated, reborn, high off unlife if it weren’t for the irritating sense that something crucial is missing. That it’s getting further, with every second.

He turns into a hall with a mirror on his left. This is a part of the penthouse he’s never been in, a tall corridor with one lone door at the end. 

Daniel catches his own reflection. He can see the details of his own pores, now. Each wrinkle, each blemish, each fleck of blood dried around his mouth. 

And his eyes, also. A deep amber, like the most striking sunset he’s ever seen, and–huh. Guess he won’t be seeing many of those anymore, will he?  

He thinks he may break the mirror if he stares for much longer. Or worse, start crying, or laughing, or something. Vampirism makes every emotion feel intensified, dialed up to its maximum intensity. It’s difficult to sort through what he’s feeling, exactly. He only knows that if he keeps looking, something will happen. 

So he continues down the hall. The door at the end is locked, but with just a little force it flies off its hinges. That wasn’t the intended effect, but hey. Whatever works. 

For a moment after stepping inside, Daniel isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at. Organized chaos is the first word that comes to mind. 

It seems to be a lab of some sort, with rows and rows of shelves packed with jars. Each is filled with various colored liquids, bones, and body parts trapped in preservatives. Daniel feels a chill as he observes them. 

There’s no doubt who this room belongs to. The tables ridden with equipment, the open, half-filled notebooks, the tubes and vials and microscopes. It all screams Armand. 

Tucked into a far corner of the room is what seems to be a little art station. There’s a canvas perched on an easel. An unfinished charcoal portrait, with a small stand next to it brimming with supplies. Daniel spots a few closed books on the floor. Sketchbooks, presumably. 

His eyes move back to the canvas. It takes him a moment to process what exactly is on it. He’s struck first with deja vu, and then vague recognition, and then a horrific realization. 

It’s like looking in a mirror, only if he were 50 years younger, and if his features were unrefined, like he were looking at himself through crossed eyes. 

It’s him. The him from the 70s, with that open, curious expression he wore like a second skin. It’s him down to the exact shape of his lips, the exact thickness in his brows.

Daniel doesn’t know what to make of it. He doesn’t know what to make of any of this. The drawing is painstakingly detailed, even half-finished. It looks like it was done with a level of care and attention that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Armand make this? 

He grabs it before he can think about what he’s doing. Charcoal smudges where he accidentally brushes his thumb over its corner. 

He doesn’t know what he intends to do with it. He only knows that he needs to find his maker. To grab him by his shoulders, shake him until answers rattle from his lips like a maraca. 

The bond aches. Daniel leaves the room with the canvas, and tries to pretend he didn’t spot an entire human heart in one of those jars.

[armandfucker]

Armand thought often about how Daniel was in the early days of their courtship. The way he would catch his lovers’ thoughts at various times of day, always full of lust and excitement. The bratty things his boy imagined while Armand rested.

Armand knew even before taking off Daniel’s clothes that his lover was blessed in with a beautiful cock. He’d seen it in his thoughts. The flicker of remembered dalliances, looking down at a mouth stretched wide over him and pasting Armand’s face over the memory like a mask.

While Louis spoke on an on, Armand wondered if age had dulled his boys’ bratty tendencies or if his cock would still be as perfect now as it was then.

Armand knew Daniel was sick of topping by the time they met. He disliked how the men he met in bars would take a look at him and decide that he was a top just by his size. He’d often thought that Daniel would have made a killing in pornography if he wasn’t so stuck to journalism as a career.

Would age have changed this fact about him? Would Daniel still be a needy brat, begging for Armand to fuck him? Or had his tastes matured with age?

There were parties, back in the 80s. Armand would dress his boy up in a supple leather harness and prep him before taking him to a party to be fucked by strangers while Armand watched. Armand had loved the way Daniel would cry, tears streaming down the side of his face as his eyes sought out Armand, hands reaching for his Boss.

The Daniel that sat across from him in Dubai would never imagine that he was once that boy in leather.

Armand couldn’t wait for him to remember.

[arun-armand-amadeo]

Armand/Daniel Molloy Halloween Drabble

Read on AO3 or continue below:

Daniel pushed open the sliding door that led out onto the small balcony of his New York apartment. It was early evening, and the streets below were busy with parents and children joyfully out trick-or-treating. Shortly there would be young people heading towards clubs and bars for drunken costume parties, and come early morning they'd all be staggering home again.

A light October breeze ruffled through Daniel’s grey curls as he leant forward against the metal railings. He breathed in the crisp fresh air, eyes roaming to a window over the road where he could see a couple settling down to watch some low budget horror movie, the onscreen monster slashing its giant claws through its unsuspecting victim. Daniel felt himself smiling.

There was only one monster in New York City tonight, and he was currently standing next to Daniel and peacefully smoking a cigarette.

He’d followed him home all the way from Dubai, refusing to explain his exact reasoning for doing so. At first Daniel was sure that the vampire was going to kill him, and had lived in fear as if he was walking on eggshells for those first few weeks. But the killing blow had never come and, despite all logical reasoning, Daniel had become rather fond of his unexpected roommate.

He was probably just lonely, that was all.

“You know, I’m not sure who you hate more.” Daniel finally spoke up. “Me, or those idiots dressed up as Dracula with their cheap plastic fangs and fake blood.”

Armand blew out a wispy stream of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette and flicking it away. His expression was soft with big beautiful eyes that were so wonderfully vibrant and orange in the glow of the streetlamp. His black curls elegantly framed his forever youthful face as he rubbed a thumb back and forth across his wrist.

“I don’t hate you, Daniel.” Armand replied. “I love you. If I hadn’t grown to love you, I would have killed you before now, of course.”

Daniel sucked in a sharp breath, letting the sudden confession hang in the air between them. However, looking at the way they were living, was it really all that unexpected? 

“Is it love?” Daniel mused, straightening himself up. “This thing between us? Or are we just a couple of lonely old men finding comfort in the other when the rest of the world has abandoned us?”

Armand sidled a little closer and linked his hand through the cook of Daniel’s elbow. He felt cold, but that was less disturbing than if he’d been warm. Daniel didn’t push him away, nor did he protest when Armand came to rest his head against his shoulder. His black curls were soft against the side of his neck.

“It is love.” Armand’s simple reply. “Do you need me to prove it to you?”

Daniel shook his head.

“Nah. I believe you.”

[stvolanis]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[deergirldean]

dean picking out girls for him and sammy to sleep with, guiding sam's mouth and aiding his limbs to go wherever he pleases

[ohyouluckysaint]

ℜ𝕺𝔐𝕬𝔑𝕮𝔈

♰ ﹒⁺ CLAUDIA AND (TRAD) GOTH READER ◌ ( ´ཀ` ) ៚݈݇

◞◟ ͜ ﾟ† ֵ 　 　SAINT SAYS.ᐟ ៸៸៸ I was listening to Romance by Buck-Tick on repeat when I thought this up so I ran with it. There’s no distinct skin color, skin type, height, or weight for the reader. There’s only the style, makeup style, and a mild description of the personality mentioned.

࣪ starring ﹒ ⁺    ៹ ⁺ Claudia and tradgoth.ᐟfemreader + (Brief interaction with Louis)

cw ˙ . ꒷ . No use of y/n, usage of gender neutral pronouns, smoking (Claudia and it’s alluded to that tradgoth.ᐟfemreader does too depending on preference), third person omniscient, minor angst, everybody lives.

CLAUDIA who thought TRADGOTH!READER had a cool appearance when they first met, but also thought they were a little spooky and a thinly veiled recalcitrant. She’d been proven wrong and figured they were more akin to thinking and acting autonomously. Their brows creased, ❝….What? You think I’m a freakshow now too? ❞ Their manicured nails carded through their dark tresses that weren’t teased, preparing for scrutiny as a ramification of going on about themself even though she insisted she wanted to get to know them well. ❝…The furthest thing from it actually. ❞

TRADGOTH!READER who wasn’t a vampire prior to meeting CLAUDIA, but was interested in the lore behind the fossilized myth. So, they were more than fascinated and equipoised to find out about Claudia’s true nature when she killed and fed in front of them to Claudia’s surprise (and delight.)

TRADGOTH!READER fell first, CLAUDIA fell harder. Claudia had gotten that spark when the pair had a conversation and they understood everything; didn’t judge or feel pity for a lick. And that benign smile they’d flash from time to time was the maraschino cherry on top that made her feel impossibly warm. From then on, TRADGOTH!READER planned all the clandestine dates to have with CLAUDIA at nightfall. She thought the pair of them were just hanging out until they gave her a good night kiss on the cheek. That’s when she knew it was mutual. Those earthy optics widened a fraction when Claudia responded with a kiss on their cheek as well. Who’s being sweet to whom now?

TRADGOTH!READER who asked for CLAUDIA’S company when buying a pet and settled with having a black cat. Though they considered just snagging a black bengal they saw wandering about.

TRADGOTH!READER who thought they and CLAUDIA would suffice with an ephemeral relationship until Claudia suggested becoming immortal and being with her for eternity until one got sick of the other or it was mutual. Not that a day like that would ever come. If they hit a rough patch, they know they’d come together for reconciliation depending on how grand the issue would be. 

TRADGOTH!READER became a vampire ── went frenetic and gave an abject apology upon seeing their maker’s disappointment. Though CLAUDIA was quite proud of them. They’d become accustomed fastfowardly even as they were bedaubed in blood.

TRADGOTH!READER who’s prettily straddling CLAUDIA’S lap while they attempted their makeup style on Claudia because she asked. Makeup sesh didn't last long as they practically kissed it all off of her face because they got cuteness aggression midway. ❝’s all over your lips now, honey❞ she giggled at the sight of the dramatically pallid makeup on their lips and they laughed together.

TRADGOTH!READER was evidently blessed by none other than Aphrodite. Their inky teased tresses, the sexy spunk, lilt that was smooth as silk, and flirtation sweet as honey, and being the personification of a dark feline. CLAUDIA believes she couldn’t have gotten any luckier; jackpot on her first try at a real relationship. 

TRADGOTH!READER who strung up photos of CLAUDIA on their bedroom wall as intimate memorabilia and even wrote love notes in sanguine ink on the bottom. Other things in their room consist of the couple’s respective caskets, posters of their favorite gothic bands up to date, the cat’s bed, and a mix of their and Claudia’s trinkets on their vanity. 

When CLAUDIA smokes, TRADGOTH!READER is lighting up for her like it’s second nature (and possibly joining in, but that’s completely up to them.)

TRADGOTH!READER and CLAUDIA get married and do anything to protect one another. Even as their pets pass while they don’t get any older physically. They grieve, properly bury them, and then get a new pet that satisfies them both. Though at this point they might invest in getting a turtle or a jellyfish.

LOUIS noticed the softness that blankets CLAUDIA when they walk into a room, when she notices them from afar, or when she simply speaks about them. He’s never seen her like this. So happy. Didn’t even know about the marriage until he inquired about the ring he saw. He learned it wasn’t official with papers and a priest, but the ring was all he needed to see.

And speaking of the sexy vampire she married. They looked over at CLAUDIA as they sauntered into the living room. It’s evident there’s a mutual overflow of awe. ❝Hi, my love.❞ Their gaze flits over to Louis momentarily—❝Louis,❞—they can tell from the incredulousness on his visage he’s wonderin’ what the hell that tone means. He opportunistically attempts to ask Claudia telepathically, but she’s blocked him out. The growth of their garden of secrets has been tremendous as of late.

They’re well versed about how she feels toward him. They allow their feet to carry them the rest of the way to her and quickly kiss her cheek, leaving a lipstick mark. Not that she minds at all. Those blown pupils of hers; she’s making a silent prayer for them to flirt even with the obvious tension that needs to spoken of between her and Louis. ❝Claudia and I have blood bags stored if you want one on the way out.❞

Their not-so-subtle way of telling him to leave since they’ve noticed Claudia’s mild discomfort. A bitter huff of laughter that elicits from his lips is responded to with a gentle smile donning their lips even though their piercing gaze is doing all the favors to get their point down. They’ve got a fuck ton of gumption and that’s what she loves about them best.

They even stood up to Armand once before when he succeeded at cornering CLAUDIA with his domineering stature and devilish tongue. They attempted to make him feel less than and that didn’t turn out in their favor. The two had a spat, but he dug into their very psyche and drew the worst out. An immense bond between them and Claudia flourished more from this, hence the marriage. Claudia and Louis grew further apart. She felt something akin to resentment toward him—he figured that by now—but he continued to check in on her because he cared more than even he could fathom.

© 2025 DRIEDROSESANDCHERRY I stress that you do not repost, translate, alter, or plagiarize my content on any platform, including—but not limited to—my theme. You are welcome to take inspiration as long as you ask me directly and have my consent. I will likely say yes, but there’s no guarantee.

[lady-phasma]

not me so excited for season 3 that I'm writing a hurt/comfort Armand x reader fic while I'm at work

[hemofiliac]

// Dead dove warning!

Daddy Lou said Uncle Les wasn’t a bad man, that sometimes he was a little selfish and a little in his own head, but he loved both of us the same. But I didn’t wanna tell daddy lou that I didn’t love uncle les like that, that I didn’t like when he would wrap his hands ‘round my wrists and throw me onto the floor like the women he brought home, that I didn’t love how he touched my waist and told me how disappointing it was that I would never really grow into a real lady. 

When I looked at Uncle Les, I saw a snake, a big, ugly, scared snake. Lou saw a man, but no real man would treat a lady the way he did.  

[enbylesbianism]

do you think i have forgotten about you

Armand/Daniel Molloy

@vamptember day 14: Free Day

Click here to read!

[lacefedora]

Ambrosia: Devil's Minion / Armandaniel

I was inspired by THIS POST that provided such a vivid image I had to write it. this ficlet is rated E, sexy bits are under the cut.

-

Daniel doesn't remember biting into his neck, but that moan was going to haunt him the rest of his life. Armand moaning into his ear, panting against it in desperate gasps, each breath coming in time with each slow draw that Daniel took into his mouth. Savoring the blood. He'll never forget the heady burst of flavor. He will make certain of it.

Honey and pineapple Louis had said. He was wrong. It was so much sweeter.

Daniel had been too dazed when Armand had turned it to really taste it. And with Armand immediately taking off Daniel had been desperately depressed he might never taste it again. To get the chance to really imprint it on his memory. He wouldn't miss the chance now.

Armand moves and Daniel latches on tighter. His long fangs sinking deeper, bringing more exquisite, ancient blood to the surface. He hears Armand whimper and Daniel is dimly aware of sharp glass edge nails ripping into his skin. Like Armand is trying to claw him closer, desperate for even more contact than Daniel's teeth in him.

Daniel can't complain; really he wants to do the same. No high he'd ever chased could possibly compare to this. He'd like to split him open and crawl inside to drink from him until he died. This must be what ambrosia had tasted like. That's what it was. Not Honey and Pineapple. Ambrosia. Food only fit for the gods.

"Daniel please." Armand is gasping, the first words he's gotten out since this ordeal started. And they're desperate, thready, devoid of composure. Daniel will do anything to make him sound like that every day... the control freak unraveling, coming apart at the seems. A whole new brand of addiction taking hold in him. Or fuck, maybe this was religious fervor. Divine ecstasy.

Daniel knows what he wants too. He can taste it in his blood, smell it on his skin, feel it in the wanton twitch of hips. He moves his hand to the front of Armand's pants and rubs the deliciously hard cock he finds there. Timing it perfectly to align with the pull of blood from his veins. Armand thrashes bracing himself against the wall to push into the touch.

Armand's next moan is like a church bell, abrupt and resonant. Daniel can feel it echoing around in his brain. Daniel uses his claws well, slicing the button off Armand's pants and pulling down the zipper to shove them down off of him. At long last he wraps his fingers around Armand's cock. They both moan at the contact, though Daniel's is muffled by his mouthful. Fuck he must have almost bitten clean through the skin. Like a rabid dog.

Daniel hesitates, very nearly pulling his teeth free to look Armand in the face. But there's a mad scramble of limbs then Armand is grabbing the back of his neck and holding Daniel firmly in place. Daniel unwinds from his tension and then draws down another gulp of blood. He squeezes Armand's cock… He'd have to get a good look at it later. It feels as pretty as the rest of him. He works him much faster than the slow little drinks he was taking. The contrast drives Armand wild as he suspected and the moans he gives are completely unrehearsed. Needy.

Daniel can feel how hard his own cock is. He's been hard since the moment he sank his teeth into him. But he isn't paying himself any mind at all. It's completely secondary to the way Armand is falling apart pressed against the wall. Daniel shifts his grip and he knows it must be good because Armand jerks in his arms, tearing his flesh further. The renewed gush of blood causes Daniel to push his own cock against Armand's hip, mindlessly seeking friction.

The action causes Armand to give a choked cry that he muffles against Daniel as he comes in glorious hot spirts. The blood gets on both of them. Their shirts and Daniel's arm and hand. Daniel finally releases the bite, pulling back to admire his handy work… it looks much like his neck had looked before it scarred. The comparison doesn't bother him so much as it should. He smiles and the brings up his other hand to bite his thumb and close the wounds.

"Leave them. Let thim heal on their own." Armand insists, the quick as light he has Daniel pinned to the wall instead, dropping to his knees and ripping open his fly. His fangs are out as he swallows Daniel's cock down to the hilt. Daniel doesn't even warn him not to bite. He drops his head against the wall with a thud, moaning. He felt high, but still beautifully lucid. He laughs breathlessly as he winds his clean hand into Armand's hair. The other hand he brings to his mouth, licking it clean with Armand starting to give him by far the messiest blow job he can remember.

Daniel comes when Armand scrapes his teeth over his dick with deliberate intention. All he can taste is Armand's sweet blood in his mouth.

[bbambiiiiiii]

Saw a dentist Daniel Malloy post on twt OHHH and it got me thinking..

Dentist Daniel Malloy who straps Armand down to inspect his fangs.

Patient Armand who has very strong reactions to the feeling of Daniels latex gloves in his mouth.

Dentist Daniel Malloy who notices and takes advantage of the fact that Armand is strapped down by teasing the fuck out of him.

Overstimulation?

What who said that??

[euthanasiadarkblues]

“I see you in everything.

"Every time I enter a room, I look for you in it. I don't even do it on purpose–I mean, for fucks sake–I couldn't remember you and I still looked for you.

"I could feel it. This massive void inside of me. An ‘eager black hole’, I guess. Whatever that means.

"That's how much of you lives in me. It hurts like a bitch when you're gone. I love you, and I wish I could make it stop. I love you, and sometimes I'm worried I’ll just start calling out your name, because it lives on the tip of my tongue, and I have nothing else to do with it.

“Armand, Armand, Armand.”

- daniel post s2 in one of those pink sparkly padlocked diaries, probably.

[armandfucker]

The lines of the leather harness peek out from behind Daniel’s silk shirt. Armand dresses him reverently, silently.

His fingers linger over the leather as he decides not close up the top few buttons. When he is done, he smooths the silk down onto the leather so that the strap across the top of his pecs shows through the clinging fabric.

It is the sort of outfit that Daniel would have hated when he was mortal. Silk, leather and a delicate silver collar around his neck.

Mortal, younger Daniel would have hidden it under a bulky jacket and fiddled with the buttons at his neck.

This new Daniel lets it happen, smirking at his maker as he spots the tells on Armand’s face. The bite at his lip, the way his eyes flick to the harness and back up to his neck where he could so easily use the collar to choke him.

The final touch to the outfit is a delicate smear of tint over Daniel’s lips so that they look flush with blood.

[colourfulshadows]

Just hold my hand - 250-word drabble Rating: Mature (again, intentionally set too high, there's nothing sexual happening in this) Pairing: Louis/Lestat @vampirefest Kinktober prompt: Day 12 (Touch Starved)