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lordofdestructionm · 10 months

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Wick Sable

The odd duck in the guilded cage

Despite this being a feral Mordecai and Viktor account I do occasionally like to dig into the others.

Wick is a character Lackadaisy fans love but don't talk about very much. He just the rich friendly geologist with a love of illicit beverages and a crush on Mitzi. Indeed he is all those things. But I want to dig a little into what may be hidden depth (geography joke haha)

Professional dissatisfaction

When we first meet Wick he is behind his desk looking very tired and beaten down. Forcing himself to keep working late into the night with excessive coffee. Attending to a large pile of paper work for tomorrow.

His expression shifts slightly when he sees the Lackadaisy pins fall out of the envelope and realises the letter is an invitation to him (and his fellow aristocrats) to the speakeasy.

This hatred of paper work and the administrative side of his business is a recurring issue for Wick. Making the reason for his reliance on the capable and attentive Lacy very obvious. Exhaustian and too much alchohol are no doubt partly to blame, but it seems to be something that puts him in a very depressed state of mind.

But when actually on the job, overseeing the hands on work of blasting a new quarry, his mood is much more positive. Indeed he has a very real and sincere love for geology and the nitty gritty work of his business. When he first went to the Lackadaisy he was spellbound by the lime caverns themselves as much by Mitzi's charm.

Its his special interest and he will go on long unprompted monologues on the topic if given the chance. Meaning it is specifically the being trapped in his office dealing with the red tape that makes him so unhappy not the industry itself.

Its almost sad that he is the one in charge of the company rather than in a role that puts him closer to the action which seems to bring him real joy. Like someone who loves cooking being in charge of a restuarant or someone that loves drawing running an animation studio.

They love the product/industry but that doesn't mean they enjoy their specific place in it.

Unimpressed Peers

Despite Wicks enthusiasm it proves not be infectious with his fellow elite, who complain about being dragged out of town to watch something, that while very important to Wick, they clearly could not care less about (even not that quietly mocking him and his love for rocks and construction)

When the evening doesn't go to plan due to the uninvited pig farmers Wick has an interesting exchange with Edmund Church, seemingly the most prominent of the St Louis upper crust in the group. Warning him about getting any more involved with an unsavoury crowd, especially Mitzi, outside of simply enjoying the occasional drink.

Wick doesn't take kindly to the snarky criticism and borderline threat to his reputation and responds with a much more direct statement on his peers sour nature

Tracy has mentioned that Church has a role yet to play in the story and it seems safe to assume from this it may well involve Wick in a less than friendly way if he continues to associate with his "lessers" as Church and the others see things.

Despite needing to remain on civil terms to keep them invested in his business, Wick clearly has little love for them, a feeling that is mutual as they have little respect for him and see him as an oddball, only tolerating him because his talent in his field can help make them a tidy profit.

But while he doesn't appreciate Church's sniping Wick IS concerned about his reputation, but not entirely for his own sake or that of his elitist associates, but for the many people who rely on him for employment, who could be hurt by extension of he gets pulled too deep into the less than repectable world of bootlegging

Romantic life

Outside of the crush he has had on Mitzi since first meeting her at the Speakeasy, we have very little information about Wicks love life before this. Being a handsome and wealthy gentleman from a good family, you would think he would he fighting women off with a stick, maybe even be a bit of a playboy.

Instead you get the impression Wick is pretty far away from being a ladies man. Mentioning to Mitzi that he doesn't even really know how to talk to women unless its about rocks, bugs or limestone.

He is clearly attracted to her and is tempted by her to risk his reputation and by extension his business to get closer to her, but so far his fear of the very real consequences are deterring him from taking that gamble.

Though there is that personal aspect to it, it seems that in a more abstract sense Mitzi's appeal to Wick is not just in her beauty and seductive personality, but in the excitement and thrill of her Speakeasy and bootlegging operations.

In that sense Mitzi represents that touch of danger and excitement that during prohibition many otherwise law abiding citizens enjoyed indulging in illegal drinking establishments. Being* just* naughty enough to give them a fun thrill while being detached from the more brutal blood soaked aspects.

Wick is a good natured person (the worst thing he has done is shoot a duck in his youth which he was forced to do) living a very "respectable" life, but that makes the superficial glamour of the world of underground drinking establishments and secret booze stashes even more appealing. Thats why despite his concerns and responsibilities he keeps going back ,not just to Mitzi, but to the Lackadaisy specifically. It has pretty geography, a pretty owner, and an open door to a more exciting avenue of life

Its for that same reason he doesn't seem to be overly uncomfortable with lovable bi disaster Zib flirting with him at the bar. He may have no intention of reciprocating, but it couldn't be a more different experience to the world he is used to

Even if he doesn't yet want to take the full plunge it all excites him enough to keep him circling the edges.

Because despite having so much going for him there are things about his life that not only bore him but make him unhappy. Whether its piles of paperwork, dealing with much stuffier "conventional" fellow aristocrats and not wanting to be like them, or just a general lack of true passion in his life, he is clearly a man looking for something more satisfying

Whether or not he remains a "tourist" or decides to take that gamble, throw his reservations to the wind, and take a more active role in the gang, is yet to be seen...

Assuming Rocky doesn't set fire to him first of course XD

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gracerings · 2 years

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the insane thing about the babytrapping storyline in iwtv is that neither louis nor lestat were actually trapping the other because neither of them really wanted to leave and the only one who ended up truly trapped was the baby herself

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #loustat

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wizardpink · 2 months

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I screencapped these two posts four days ago because I had Something to Say and now I have no idea wth it was.

I think it had something to do with power dynamics and how Armand making Daniel a vampire actually handed Daniel a huge amount of power over Armand despite being the fledgling?

So number one Armand rendered his primary weapon against Daniel / form of self-defense completely useless by making Daniel his fledgling. He can no longer use the mind gift to manipulate Daniel or erase his memories. Which of course is true for all makers and fledglings, but most makers' fledglings aren't Sherlock Holmes with a BSJ. Daniel beat Armand's mental saw trap as a human. Armand is never, never getting one over on him now. Daniel will perceive the slightest change in energy coming from Armand and immediately know that he's lying, and 3 seconds of deduction later and he'll know why. He's an open book now, which must be terrifying.

Number two: mentorship. This is how Lestat kept control over Claudia and Louis for so long: he kept them dependent on him through ignorance. He only told them enough about vampirism to get through the day to day: don't go in the sun, don't drink dead blood, the other vampires of the world are vicious, etc. Every fledging needs their maker at LEAST in the beginning to teach them the ropes. Well, Daniel just wrote the goddamned book on vampirism, literally. Daniel sat there and listened as Louis told him everything he knew, everything Lestat ever taught him, everything Armand ever taught him. What other vampire ever got the in-depth two week course on Vampires 101 before they even got turned?! Crazy stuff.

Number three: vampire loneliness. Supposedly the most cruel and painful thing a vampire can endure. It keeps fledglings and makers tied to each other well past the point of being able to stand each other. And god knows Armand is staring down the barrel of having no one but Daniel. Which is unfortunate for him, considering Daniel is besties with his ex husband and touring with his ex boyfriend. Daniel has friends, friends that didn't torture him for 4 days then try to kill him. Oof.

All of this is to say that, with the info we have right now, Daniel has very little need for Armand. Armand in comparison needs him at least not to be alone, but what leverage does he have to get Daniel to stay with him? He's got nothing babes. I'm not a strong believer in the Armand is running from Daniel theory on season 3, but if he is, it's hard to blame him. He is shooting 0 for 1,000 right now, losing left and right, dying of shame and guilt and embarrassment. I'd probably crawl in a hole and die too.

"Oh but wizardpink, that's not very Devil's Minion of you!" AU CONTRAIRE. Because what could be more compelling and romantic than someone who has no use for you but nevertheless wants you? Thinks about you constantly and doesn't know why? You tried to capture them in a glass jar but they broke out and flew away, only to flutter back because they missed you? Yeah inject that straight into my veins.

And on the flip side? Maybe Armand goes straight back to that headspace he was in in '73, the crazed look in his eyes when he told Daniel he was going to teach him to be fascinating. That's ONE thing Armand still has on Daniel, he could probably overpower him enough to keep him trapped somewhere, if Armand thought Daniel was going to leave him. This, too, is Devil's Minion as fuck. Slowest of burns, as they say.

Hmm. Yeah I guess that was what I was gonna say.

#devil's minion #the devil's minion #armandaniel #armaniel #danmand #we all need to unite under one flag y'all #iwtv #amc iwtv #iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire #armand #the vampire armand #daniel molloy #the vampire daniel

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ghouldump · 1 month

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here a silly request... louis has a sister and that's who lestat is interested in and louis is just a means for lestat to get what he really wants! I'm imagining that scene with lestat, louis and lily where lestat practically just used lily so he could sleep with louis, Louis will be so much more worried about Lily that he won't even notice Lestat seducing his sister 🤫🤭

Spider And The Fly | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ when Lestat uses Louis as bait to lure and trap his actual prey.

this is FAR from silly !!

Fierce, Secretive, Cunning, you were quite a vixen with everyone wrapped around your fingers as if you were a goody two shoes - but Lestat could see right through you. He remembered the first night he'd laid eyes on you.

You had no business being on this side of the city, some salesman pressed against you. You'd paid one of the many prostitutes to warn you, if Louis came through, and low and behold, he had just parked.

Pushing away from the guy, you pretended to be uninterested, unlike seconds ago. He kept trying to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, but you kept shrugging him off.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked, his hand brushing down the sleeve of your dress.

“I need to get going,” you said, standing, but he followed, throwing the money on the table, and going outside.

“Hold on now, princess,” he said, trying to stop you and kiss on your cheek, while you attempted to push him away. Unexpectedly, the man was punched, groaning, confusedly staring up at Louis.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked you.

“I came with some friends, but they left, so I was going to get a drink,” you said, pouting at your dearest big brother.

“Hell no, you don't need a drink, get in that car and wait for me,” he pointed. Nodding a solemn expression in place, you walked to the car. As you passed Lestat, he could see the mischievous glint in your eyes, you could put on a good show.

He had to get close to you, he found out about your background, your usual circle of friends and associates. How other than Louis, you were the only other child to have some sort of socialite status. You were popular amongst men, and while you weren't a loose young woman, you weren't as innocent as you led your family to believe.

There was only one problem, you were impossible to get to. Louis was protective, extremely protective, perhaps it was his way of projecting his fears. Whoring out women, day and night, yet the idea of his baby sister doing the same thing bothered him. Paul, when he wasn't chasing down Louis, expressing his dislike of Levi, or at church, he was trying to warn you to stay away from men, in general, and Grace was too focused on her wedding to care as much as the two. It was challenging, but Lestat wasn't going to give up easily.

He became close with Louis, and while he enjoyed the man and what he had to offer, Lestat already had made his decision. He recalled fondly, the first time you'd met each other.

Sitting at the dinner table, next to Louis, he was cordial with everyone in vain conversation. Abruptly, the front door could be heard opening, before your head poked into the dining room.

“Y/n, where have you been?” your mother started.

“I was over at Anna’s house,” you said, as you waved everyone at the table, making your way to the empty seat next to Louis.

“This is Lestat de Lioncourt, he is a friend of mine, this is the baby of the family, Y/n,” Louis said, as you sat down. Facing the man, you thought how handsome he was. He was probably Louis’ lover, heaven knows he had never brought a woman home.

“I have heard many things about you,” he said.

“I hope only good,” you smirked, briefly glancing at Louis.

“Of course, Louis goes on and on about you,” he smirked.

The conversation shifted back to Grace and Levi as they went on and on about their wedding. Picking at your food, you sat uninterested in the topic. “Is this all they talk about?” you heard, making you look up at Lestat.

His mouth hadn't moved, as he still faced Grace, nodding his head as she spoke to him. “I see why you're always disappearing” you heard again.

“Excuse me?” you spoke, everyone’s attention turning to you.

“Something wrong?” your mother asked.

“Nevermind,” you shook your head.

“Be careful, ma chérie, they’ll think you're like your brother,” he said, this time when you looked up, everyone sat frozen.

“What is this?” you asked him.

“A specialty of mine,” he smiled.

“Unfreeze them,” you demanded.

“I’d like a word, I have anticipated this moment, since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he smiled.

“You and Louis, are you not together?” you asked him.

“We’re colleagues, who like a little fun on the side, but you, your brother is very protective over you, a precious gem, inaccessible, but I wonder if he knows you aren't even a virgin. Even I can't help but want a taste from you,” he said before everyone unfroze, continuing their conversation.

This was only the beginning of seeing and questioning the essence of the Frenchmen. It was also the start of the inception of Lestat’s plan.

“You okay, pudding? You look a little on edge,” Mr. Clèmence asked, reaching to touch your lower back. He was your father’s business colleague before he passed, and also a creep. Not long after you turned twenty-one, he began trying to bed you.

“I’m okay, I think I‘ll have another drink,” you smiled.

“Go on and hurry back, we have some catching up to do,” he whistled as you walked away.

Rolling your eyes, you regretted accepting the party invite and having to deal with his perverted tendencies. Walking to the bar, you made small talk with a few old friends along the way, thanking the bartender as he replaced your empty glass.

Making your way back to the table, your heart sped up, seeing Mr. de Lioncourt. What was he doing here? When did he get here? Was Louis with him? Why was he talking to Mr. Clémence? They seemed to be having an interesting conversation until you approached.

“I’ll be right back, Y/n,” Mr. Clémence said, standing up, and walking away. He looked hypnotized, never meeting your eyes as he left.

“Join me”

“Is Louis here?” you asked him.

“Louis is working, he has an establishment to run,” he smirked, crossing his leg over the other, as you sat down.

“Then what are you doing here? You don't want business with Mr. Clémence, he's a crook,” you laughed.

“Yes, depraved swine, I am here to see the star of the night, Ms. de Point du Lac,” he said, smirking.

“You seem special to my brother, I don't want to cross any boundaries,” you shook your head.

“Is Louis the only thing stopping you? Or is it the act you plan to keep up for your family and friends? You and I aren't much different, carefree, meant to live your truth, unapologetically, without fear of judgment”

“You wouldn't understand, we’re from two different worlds,” you told him.

“And with just the snap of my fingers, I can make you a part of my world, I just need a yes,” he said, you didn't realize how close he was to you, until now.

“Mr. de Lioncourt-

“Lestat,” he corrected you. Gulping, you stared into his eyes, he was inches away from your face.

“Lestat, I appreciate your offer, but I will have to decline. Louis has the business, Grace has Levi, Paul has the church, and Mama. It is up to me to make a name for myself and have something of my own. I can not ruin my future because I was known as the French man’s créole plaything, good night,” winking at him, before standing up to leave.

Your rejection only added fuel to Lestat’s burning lust. He bit his lip, watching as you walked away, and headed toward your driver. So set on what you needed in life, or what you thought you needed, you were willing to sacrifice everything you were. Marrying an attractive, but poor man, or an old ugly rich man, and for what? To please your family and finally receive the approval you craved, to show them you had something of your own - but this, this fantasy, was not what you truly wanted. You wanted freedom, from misogyny, racism, social pressures, etc.

“I will set you free, from the troubles of this life, ma chérie”

Time went on and Lestat was no longer a concern in your mind. You'd seen him at a few events, sometimes alone, sometimes with Louis, regardless, you kept your distance. He'd stare, but you ignored him. Eventually, you didn't even acknowledge him anymore. There was still a small feeling that you were being watched, or followed, but you ignored it until it went away completely.

“Paul, you have a fever, mama said to lay down,” you told him, helping him into bed.

“I’m alright, really, I just need to see Father-

“I’m more than sure God wants you to get better before you go to church,” you said, sternly. Putting his head down, he nodded, climbing back into bed.

He had been sick with a nasty cold, and you had been helping your mother take care of him, since everyone else was too busy.

“I have soup,” your mother announced, holding the tray with the porcelain bowl on top.

“Good, and now you can explain to your son why he needs to get better before he runs off to church”

“Paul, Y/n is right and you're risking getting others sick,” she told him, setting down the tray.

“Where’s Louis, maybe we could read a few chapters together, like old times,” he said, hopeful.

“Sorry, Paul, he's working-

“Go get him, he won't mind coming home,” your mother told you.

“How am I supposed to know where he is? You want me to go around the French Quarter screaming his name?” you asked. Louis was never in one place for long and it would be a struggle to find him, now that the sun was setting.

“Check at Mr. de Lioncourt’s house, and the red light district,” she said lowly.

“No, Y/n, you have to stay away from that devil,” Paul shook his head.

“His address is in the address book, please, I think it would be nice for him to bond with Louis,” she said. Holding back the urge to groan, you nodded, leaving the room.

She was always trying to accommodate Paul, he had his issues, please Louis, he carried the family, help Grace, she was the first to marry - but what about you?

Taking the car, you went straight to the red-light district. You frowned at the smell in the air, as you looked around. You didn't see him or his car anywhere in sight.

“Hey, have you seen Louis?” you asked Bricktop, one of his madames.

“He left a while ago, either went home or to that French man, he didn't say,” she told you.

“Thank you,” you said, reaching over, giving her a few cents, before driving off to his home.

By the time you parked, night completely covered the sky. You couldn't differentiate between the vehicles, as you pulled up to the curb. Turning off the car, you hope that he is in this house because you did not want to see this man for the fun of it.

Anxiously, you approached the gate, raising your hand to knock, and you realized it was unlocked. Making your way to the door, you reached to knock, when the door opened.

“Lestat”

“Y/n, it is a pleasure to see you, what can I do for you, at this hour?” he smirked.

“I'm looking for Louis, is he here?” you asked, standing on your toes, attempting to look over his shoulder.

“Come in,” he opened the door, stepping to the side to let you in.

“Well, is he here?” you asked, as you walked in, watching him shut the door.

“You knew he wasn't here, ma chérie, but you had to give in to your desire only a little, to see me again,” he grinned at you.

“What the hell are you talking about Lestat, get out of the way,” you said, seeing that he stood in front of the door.

“You can fool them, but I see you, I know you wanted to give in, you want to give in, but you're too afraid, you'd rather hide your true self from the world,” he said, moving out of the way, walking towards the living room.

Rolling your eyes, you went to reach for the door but stopped when he spoke again.

“Just so you know, what happens in secret, is always revealed”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mr. Clémence, Mr. Smith, Gabriel, William, Isaiah, he seems like he is you're favorite. Funny how people with the very names from the Bible are usually the most troubled, I mean, look at your brother,” he laughed.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you don't get to speak about him or any of them-

“I wonder how poor Louis would take it, knowing his innocent baby sister is a femme fatale, struggling with hypersexuality because she didn't get enough love as a child”

“Does Louis know that you're a dick, he'd love to hear that,” you spat, but it only made him smile.

“Bathrooms, boats, fields, cars, at the park, it would break his heart, to know how erotic you truly are”

“You've been watching me, you pervert,” you realized.

“I think you're entire family would be disappointed, moans such as those could only be made by a nymphomaniac”

“So tell them, is that what you want to do? Are you jealous? They get to have me any way they'd like, but you were rejected,” you taunted.

“I have you where I want you,” he smirked, tilting his head.

“The only place you'd ever have me is in your dreams”

“Is that why you haven't left yet? I moved from by the door and you followed me, you want to argue for my attention, but it is already set on you. I could never be jealous of any of them, they don't make your heart skip a beat, make you nervously chew your lip, clench your thighs together, I do,” he said, approaching you.

“Asshole,” you said, backing away from, them and turning to leave. However, your feet stopped on their own, running back to him, jumping into his arms.

Pressing your lips against his, you moaned as he hungrily explored your mouth, reaching for the back of your dress. Lestat was frightening, not because of how mysterious he came off to be, or his appearance, or background - but because he was always spot on. He had been right about you.

You last track of time, Louis wasn't even a thought, as you gave yourself to Lestat. In his lap, on the loveseat, panting in the most ungodly manner, you gasped, as he bit into your neck. The pain was quickly replaced by pleasure, his cool arms wrapping around your warm skin. It wasn't until the euphoric ecstasy came down, that you realized what you'd done and with whom. He was special to Louis and yet here you were, lying against him.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you said, scurrying to get dressed, your hand going to your neck, holding the two holes in your skin. He smiled, satisfied, for now, at least he had more access to you, with his blood in your system.

Rushing home, you tried to look as natural as possible, taking the small backup scarf from your purse, tying it around your neck before entering the house, and going upstairs to your room.

“Hey, they told me you went looking for me?” Louis spoke from the bottom of the stairs, making you turn around. Your eyes softened, guilt plaguing your mind of your actions.

“Yeah, I stopped by the district, at Mr. de Lioncourt’s and I drove around a while,” you lied.

“Sorry about that, I went to see Ms. Lily, her birthday recently passed,” he said.

“It's okay,” you said, told him.

“What’s with the scarf? It’s hot as hell tonight,” he chuckled.

“The mosquitoes are tearing me a new one, I had to hide my neck, I can't wait until winter,” you said, going up the steps as he laughed.

Entering your room, you immediately pulled off the cloth, staring into your reflection. Wincing, your fingers pressed against the two holes, moving to your lips, you thought about Lestat, how he kissed you as if it was his last kiss. Held you, as if you would slip away. He was everything you could ever want, and he was right about all of the things he'd said and for that reason, you would have to stay away from him.

“I’m so glad you're feeling better, partying just isn't the same without you,” Anna, your best friend, pouted, intertwining your arms, as you both sat in the back of the car.

“I know, I think I caught whatever Paul had,” you said to her.

“Lie”

You heard, making you glance around, but he was nowhere in sight. It had been two long weeks of hiding away in your room. At first, it was only until the bruising went down, no amount of makeup could hide the holes in your neck. Then it started, calling for you, telling you to come to him, but you couldn't, you wouldn't. He plagued your mind, crept into your thoughts and dreams. You felt crazy until it finally stopped, immediately, you were rejuvenated and accepted Anna’s invitation to her boy toys party.

“Your mother had you tending to him again? I swear, you need to get married Y/n so you can get away from them,” she said.

“Uh, Laurent lives in the French Quarter?” you asked, feeling the hairs on your body standing, as you recognized the area.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you, he recently bought a house here,” she said, your eyes landed on his house, as the driver drove past.

Parking in front of the large home, you stared down the road, he stayed minutes away.

“Come on, I can't wait for you to meet him,” Anna squealed, dragging you into the house.

As the party began, houses down the road, Louis faced a dilemma. He and Lestat had been growing closer, concerning too many. He knew by their looks the multitude of slurs they were biting back. Lestat had brought Ms. Lily to his house, insinuating on a threesome. However, after a little kissing, he whispered into her ear, grinning as she fell into a deep sleep.

“Ms. Lily?” Louis pulled away, worriedly staring at her.

“She is only sleeping, where were we?”

“I’m supposed to trust your word, wake her up?” he said, lightly shaking her.

“I can't, she's in a deep sleep, she’ll wake up…eventually,” he chuckled to himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, she's innocent,” Louis screamed at him.

“When has prostitution become innocent?” Lestat laughed, watching as Louis picked her up, carrying her out of the house.

“Stay away from me”

“Y/n, come to me, I can not wait much longer, ma chérie,” he called out.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned against the wall, the glass to your lips, as you listened to Anna’s boyfriend and his friends go about uninteresting matters.

“Ma chérie, I will set you free”

“Get out of my head,” you muttered under your breath, looking off to the side.

“You said something?” Anna asked you.

“No, I think I seen someone I know, I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself, going outside.

“Y/n, come,” he said, as soon as you were outside. You were beginning to panic, your body moving on its own, headed to his house. To his front door, until you reached for the knob, entering. Going to the living room, you stopped, his back facing you, as he stood in front of the piano.

“Why are you doing this to me? You have Louis,” you asked him.

“I have never wanted Louis, it was always you,” he said, as he finally faced you.

“He just left and wants me to stay away from him, you have no competition, ma chérie,” he continued.

“Lestat, I told you, I can't-

“I love you, and I see you, your efforts, your attempts to please everyone around you, to live up to the standard they have for you - but you don't need that with me. There is nothing too little or too much, you could do, to change the unconditional love that has grown,” he said. Embarrassed, you covered your face as you began to cry. You couldn't recount a time anyone had ever said something as loving.

“You don't want me, I’ve pretended my whole life-

“I want nothing more than to have you, and so you've done a little acting, it doesn't matter. Accept me, and your life will start anew, and you can decide, according to your standards what is best,” he said, he was in front of you within milliseconds, reaching for your hand.

“What are you?” you asked him.

“I will teach you, what I am, what you are, and what you're meant to be, I just need a yes, a simple nod from your beautiful head,” he said, caressing your hand.

Staring into his pale eyes, you wiped your tears, before hesitantly nodding.

“Yes,” you said, taken by surprise when he pressed his lips against your own. Kissing along your neck, you released airy moans, your eyes shut. Taking the back of his hand, he wiped the makeup from your neck, revealing the mole-like scarring from the bite.

“Your new life starts now,” he said, his fangs sinking into your neck.

In the end, the fly was left tangled in the webs of the beautiful spider, awaiting death. Lestat had succeeded and he couldn't wait for the eternity ahead, spent together.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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crushribbons · 2 months

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𝓋𝑜𝓌

summary: Ominis Gaunt never makes promises he can't keep.

cw: 4k words, angst, SMUT (18+ ONLY), arranged marriage, technically cheating ig but not really, penetrative sex, fingering, vv small breeding kink, horrible family dynamics, fem reader. request

a/n: for jas 🤍 xx laney

Her eyes kept drifting over to him across the crowded room. Dozens of people flitted through the restaurant, stopping in front of her table to congratulate her and make her stomach churn with nerves, but there was only one man that she truly wanted to talk to.

He hadn’t come over to the happy couple yet, too absorbed in stirring his untouched drink with the tip of his finger. His lips were pursed like he’d just smelled something unpleasant. Blonde hair swept away from his face carefully, he looked every bit like the sophisticate he was known to be.

But she knew so much more of Ominis Gaunt.

“You’re my everything. The air in my lungs. I need you.”

“Ominis, please, we can’t!”

“You don’t want me to?”

“On the contrary. I want you far too much.”

Someone was talking to her, but her thoughts were a loud rush in her ears and she just smiled up at the buxom, middle-aged woman that was telling her and her betrothed how wonderful the look of young love was. The betrothed in question cleared his throat and gave a thin smile that was more grimace. His back was stiffly upright.

As the woman drifted away, he turned to the girl to his left. “How much longer do I have to put up with this awfulness?” he asked, grit in his jaw.

“Why ask me? Your father is the one who insisted on throwing a party and inviting the entire town, Louis,” she muttered back over the top of her water glass. Louis’ mouth did not soften.

Power, status, and money, disgusting globs of money awaited her after her marriage to this man, and she was trapped, forced to take all of it and wanting none of it. It felt like a slap in the face to those less-privileged for her to be turning her nose up at the comfort and luxury she would enjoy as a Nott, and the guilt wracked her day and night.

When her father had first told her that he would be offering her hand to the oldest Nott boy, she had wept.

“You’ll be taken care of forever, my dear,” her father had cooed, attempting parental concern for her for the first time since her birth by patting her on the back. His hand hardly making contact with her, he coughed awkwardly and continued, “You’ll never want for anything.”

“I don’t want anything, father, except for the chance to pick the person I spend the rest of my life with myself!” she had cried.

She remembered the rest all too vividly: attending a dinner party whose purpose, she had been told, was mere “introductions”, and by the end of the night she had been engaged to the man across the table from her who was gripping his knife and fork and glaring at her as if she’d sabotaged the rest of his life on purpose. Since then, they’d spoken no more than eight words to each other (A squeak of “Lovely dinner” from her on the night of their engagement, and a brusque “You ought to have worn white” from him when she arrived at his manor in a somber black dress to have their marital portrait painted) and when she’d been instructed to arrive at the London restaurant they were currently seated at for a party celebrating their betrothal, she’d cried once more.

When she was a young girl, she used to picture the man she would one day marry. He was always fuzzy, nebulous. Kind, of course, and willing to give her the world. Perhaps an artist or some otherwise creatively-inclined profession. Tall and handsome, but his features never swam into focus when she imagined walking down the aisle of a church to him.

Then, when she was fifteen, she’d met Ominis Gaunt, and the face at the front of the church became perfectly distinct. The demure Slytherin had taken some time to open up to her, but before their sixth year at Hogwarts was over, they were so enamored with one another that she sometimes had to look back at the unclear idea she’d had of love and laugh. It was always Ominis, forever.

Until it wasn’t.

At seventeen, she’d come home to her parents’ estate for the Christmas holiday with stars in her eyes and declared, “I’m in love, and we’re going to get married one day.”

“Really, dear? To whom?” Her mother had absently inquired. The glass of sherry in her hand lolled dangerously from side to side, but she didn’t seem to notice. When she’d told them about Ominis, her father, who until this point had remained silent and uninterested, had guffawed without looking up from the newspaper on his lap and said, “The Gaunts’ sightless little rat? I should like to see you try. That family has gone to the dogs.” Rage boiled up inside her and she opened her mouth to shout, but father had merely held up a hand. “You’re to be married to a strong family when you come of age, and I won’t hear another word about this silly idea of romance you’ve cooked up in your head.”

Since then, there had been a complete moratorium on the topic of Ominis or, indeed, the entire Gaunt family in her household. It killed her very gradually, in ways she didn’t notice until it was too late. She smiled less and less often. The things she used to look forward to, like quiet walks and pumpkin juice and pressing flowers, now seemed as gray as everything else in her life.

After she left Hogwarts for good, they saw each other as often as they could believably make trips to Hogsmeade to meet up. Nervous glances over her shoulder had become a regular part of being with Ominis, but her passion for him outweighed any fear.

Sirona Ryan had become very adept at noticing dust on the bar when certain members of two of the most prominent families in the British wizarding world would dart, breathless, into her inn and throw several more Galleons than necessary down, pleading silently with her for discretion as they took the room key she handed them.

Ominis’ panting ran endlessly around his lover’s mind as she watched people celebrate the end of their relationship.

“Come on, darling, come for me.” “C-can’t–S’too good, Om.”

“No, let me hear it, please. Don’t hold back. It’s all I get to bring home with me.”

The crooked and bent elder Mr. Nott was rising to his feet and knocking the side of his champagne glass with a butter knife. “Excuse me,” he thundered out, his gruff voice making the chattering guests and party-goers at their own tables turn their heads to look at him. “I’d like to say a few words in honor of my son, on this, the night before his wedding.”

Ice clawed up the inside of her body, frozen talons digging into her organs and causing fear to flood her throat. Her breath began coming in short, labored gasps. “What does he mean, the night before?” she hissed to Louis, who ignored her.

Louis wasn’t physically cruel to her, but he made sure to keep her apprised of how unhappy he was with their union. As if she felt any differently.

“To see two great families come together like this,” the elder Nott blustered, “is truly a gift. Not only to us, but to the rest of the wizarding community…”

She didn’t hear a word of the rest of his slimy posturing. The only word ringing around her ears was wedding, wedding, wedding. She’d been told that there would be a long engagement period to Louis, long enough to plaster their union in the Daily Prophet and throw several redundant parties so that everyone in the country was aware of just how much money her family and the Notts really had.

But here she was, two weeks after meeting her frigid fiancé, learning that the glass of water in her hand would be her last as a free woman, and everything inside her was screaming for her to get out. How could they deceive her like this? Not only to be forced into a marriage, but blindsided by the actual wedding before she even had a chance to…

To what? she wondered frantically. To tell Ominis she loved him? He already knew a hundred times over, but as she looked across the room to him, she saw the same hard lines carved into his face that were always present when they had to discuss her betrothal.

“Do you hate me for it?” “Hate you? How could I?” A pause, and a bitter expression settled on his lips. “I hate him.”

“I hate him, too, but I can’t do anything to stop this.”

“We could run.”

“Be serious, Ominis.”

“I am.” She felt his hands close over hers and looked down at them. His were covered in scars and burns, faded and gray with age but still a part of him forever.

“They’d kill you.”

“I’ll be dying either way, my heart.”

Her body ached for Ominis as she watched his jaw tighten further and further with every word Thelonius Nott said. She couldn’t believe he had come to this event. He’d been invited, of course, as had his entire family, but she had hoped for his sake that he would stay away and not have to endure this with her.

When the patriarch lifted his champagne (“To my son,” he said fondly, not sparing a glance at his future daughter-in-law) and commanded the rest of the room to do so, a hundred glasses flew into the air.

Ninety-nine, at least.

She hoped no one would notice the younger Gaunt boy abstaining from the toast, but at the same time, she preened inwardly. Ominis may have been soft-spoken and calculating in what he chose to say, but his actions always broadcasted his feelings.

“Excuse me,” she muttered suddenly, surprising Louis and herself by pushing her chair back and standing up. The rest of the party had gone back to their dessert, so hardly any notice was paid to her as she wove through the tables, save for a few well-wishes tossed at her that she returned with a weak smile. As she passed the Gaunt table, where Ominis’ parents and brothers were talking in low tones, she threw a glance back at the head table that she’d been at, making sure no one could see what she did next.

She tripped, just a quick, stuttered movement orchestrated by stepping on the train of her dress, and grabbed onto Ominis’ chair for support

“Are you alright?” squawked a man behind her that she’d bumped slightly. Before the Gaunts could look up from their plates and notice her standing there, she ran a finger subtly up the back of Ominis’ neck and twirled the small curl of hair on his nape around, just once. It took less than a second, but Ominis stiffened immediately, his breath cutting out and his fork falling to his plate with a clatter.

“Please,” she whimpered under her breath, quiet enough so that no one but him heard her.

She felt him before she saw him.

“Om–” He cut her off and pressed her to the brick wall of the alley behind the restaurant, where she’d fled after stopping at his table. She hoped he’d had the good sense to wait a few beats before following her, but she also knew the effect that her touch had on him. She’d been rubbing his neck like that since they were sixteen, a silent way to let him know that she was next to him, with him, there for him.

It didn’t hurt that it also drove him wild.

She knew it was a horrible idea. Sneaking out of her engagement party to fuck another man when her fiancé’s family had people killed for much less, but her mind was such a whirlwind of fear and anxiety and the only thing she wanted was the feel of Ominis’ mouth against hers. Her constant, her grounding.

“Don’t do this,” he was moaning into her lips, grinding his hips against hers as she clutched at his suit like she would float away if she didn’t. “I’ll never stop needing you, so please–” “I don’t want to!” she gasped. Tears were pooling in her eyes, and she was grateful for a moment that Ominis could not see them. “More than anything, I want to be with you, you know that.”

“Then let me take you away from here.” Ominis felt around the back of her dress to determine how best to remove it. She swatted his hands away and took his face in her hands. Words wouldn’t come to her. All she wanted was to look at him like this, desperate and frazzled, his perfect silver hair already tousled. His pale eyes saw her in a way no sighted person ever had.

She pulled him into a kiss, softer and sweeter than before, and he groaned and pulled his fingers through her hair, inadvertently combing it, and she hiccuped a small giggle.

“You can’t help but take care of me, can you, Mr. Gaunt?”

“I can’t, Mrs. Gaunt.”

Hearing the title fall from his lips made her heart soar and plummet in the same breath.

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded as he began kissing his way down her neck to the top of her cleavage. They’d talked about marriage, of course they had, but that had been lifetimes ago, when they were happy young things who didn’t know what cruelty life had in store for them. She’d even once filled a piece of parchment with the words “Madame Gaunt” in elegant flourishes, and when Ominis had found it in her school bag, he hadn’t stopped smiling for a week. After he’d finished teasing her, naturally.

“I won’t call you anything else,” he promised stubbornly.

A shriek of laughter came from inside the restaurant, followed by a tinkle of broken glass. The noise shattered their isolated little bubble and they both stared at the back door they’d used to enter the alley. “They’ll notice me gone,” she whispered, feeling suddenly small underneath Ominis’ tall, lean body. “Or someone will walk out here and find us and–”

Ominis never gave her orders, preferring instead to worship the ground she walked on, but as he knelt down to grasp the hem of her dress, he said, “Stop it. Be quiet. If this is my last night with you, I won’t let anyone take it away from me.” He pulled the dress up so it bunched around her waist and slithered one hand inside her undergarments, and any protestations that she might have made fell off her lips, dead.

His long fingers slid on top of her clit and rubbed them like he had all the leisure time in the world. Her core flooded, soaked after mere seconds with him, and the feeling made Ominis’ head drop to rest against her forehead.

“Let me ask you once more,” he breathed.

“No.”

“Please.”

“Ominis, they–” Her words were cut off as he pushed two fingers inside her and pumped slowly.

“Let me ask,” he said again, and this time, it was not a request.

Pleasure was wringing her out and weakening the little resolve she had. “Ask me,” she consented with a whimper.

“Run away with me. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, show you anything you want to see, and we’ll be together.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her. It wasn’t the second; in fact, she’d lost count of how many times he had begged and pleaded with her to flee their lives and go somewhere where they could live as they wanted. It had become his way of saying “I love you.”

It was everything she wanted, and she would never do it. She still remembered when her father had found her holding a letter from Ominis and ripped it out of her grasp.

“If I see you anywhere near that boy or having anything to do with him, I’ll kill him,” he had growled as he ripped Ominis’ words to shreds and threw them into the fireplace. “And Thelonius Nott will do a lot worse, you can count on that.”

“Ominis, I can’t, I just can’t,” she sobbed, half in anguish and half in pleasure as he continued fucking her with his fingers and mouthing along her flushed neck. “I swear, I want nothing more, but I won’t put you in danger.” His hand slowed, but he said nothing. The white heat twisting itself in a coil in her stomach threatened to unravel and she whimpered.

“I don’t care about any of that,” Ominis said. He pulled out of her and stuck the two fingers covered in her wetness into her mouth. Her own taste against her tongue made her moan shamelessly, and Ominis drank the sound down like the finest wine. He pulled her into another kiss, and she felt his erection grind against her core. A sudden thought floated into her lust-hazy head and she pushed hard against his shoulders to stop his kiss.

“You know, I don’t know much about Louis Nott, but I know how he likes his women,” she said, gritting her jaw in annoyance at her intended.

She could tell that her lover bristled at the mention of Nott, but he raised his eyebrows. “And how does he like them?”

“Thirty galleons for the night.” He sucked in a breath that might have been a laugh in any other situation. “Darling, I may have to read vows that someone else wrote tomorrow,” she continued, nerves making her shake slightly, “But let me make my own now, please.” Ominis furrowed his brow.

She took a deep breath. Ominis’ face was still there, in that church in her mind, but that church was now a brick-paved alleyway behind a restaurant in Diagon Alley. The only guests were a few curious rodents that kept their distance and the only decor were some potholes filled with water from the rain that afternoon and a streetlamp whose flame spluttered feebly every few seconds.

And it was perfect.

Taking his hands in hers, she took a deep breath and released it. “Ominis Gaunt, I will love you with everything inside me until the day I leave this earth to meet you again in heaven.” Ominis was silent, or maybe speechless. “And…”

She took his right hand by the wrist and pressed it against her heart, which was hammering wildly. “No other man will ever have my body. It’s yours.”

“It’s yours,” Ominis replied, and the simple statement made her choke. It wasn’t true, never had been. Since birth, she’d been used as cannon fodder in her family’s war for power. For anyone to give her autonomy felt like being a timid, scared little bird released from its cage for the first time. She leaned in to kiss him, but he sensed her nearness and held a hand in front of his lips that hers landed against, and she gave a small grunt of frustration.

“My turn now,” he whispered. He bit his lip, pulling it through his teeth for a long second as he considered something. Then, in one fluid motion, he pressed her back against the wall, pulled her underwear down her waist, pulled his aching and dripping cock from his trousers, and grabbed at her thighs. With a little yelp, she realized what he was doing and accommodated him, wrapping her legs around his waist. His hard cock pressed at her entrance and the two panted with desperation for a moment. Ominis seemed to be fighting the urge to fuck her before he got his words out.

“You are my heart. Every day, when I wake up, I thank the gods for giving me you, and then I curse them for taking you away.” She couldn’t make a sound, wound too tightly by the desire to feel him inside her. “There is nothing in this world that could keep me away from you, except at your word.” His cadence was that of a prayer, and as she was considering what he said, he pushed his cock into her, holding her ass to guide himself inside, and the two moaned in mutual pleasure. He was so thick, so full inside her, and when he began moving, bouncing her back against the wall with one hand braced up beside her glistening face, her mouth fell open.

“Fuck, darling,” she cried. “I–fuck, I love you so much.”

The extraordinarily touch-sensitive Ominis couldn’t continue his vows for a long while, clearly too caught up in the feeling of her cunt wrapped around him. His mouth was agape as well, and his cloudy eyes were wild and frantic. He fucked her slow, then fast, then slow again, dragging himself in and out in agonizing torture and muttering in drunken reverence about how tight she was.

“Even if I never see you again, not an ounce of my love will be found missing,” he swore through his teeth once he was able to speak again. “And if you ever crave the freedom they all deny you, I will give it to you in an instant. We’ll run, anywhere, and we’ll do it hand-in-hand, my heart.” His thrusts were losing rhythm, the extra flood of slick from her core making him slip out of her a few times, but he righted himself and tried to give her everything he was promising. The feeling of slamming down on his cock was enough to drive her senseless. The muted sounds of their fucking filled the alleyway and echoed off the damp brick wall.

He reached down between their intertwined, sweating bodies and pressed one torturing finger against her clit as he muttered, “My fucking perfect wife.” An orgasm tore through her like a wildfire and she screamed, so hard that Ominis shoved his extra hand into her mouth so she could bite it and silence herself. He supported her with just his hips as he rubbed her clit gently through the blaze. Her teeth were still sunk in his hand when he came with a groan and a sigh, thrusting his load languidly inside her.

If she’d been able to notice anything, she might have noticed that it seemed Ominis was more than usually determined to fuck every drop into her and make sure it stayed there. After several minutes of panting and murmured kisses and affection while Ominis leaned against her, he pulled off and out of her, and she slumped to the ground before he caught her, his own legs looking slightly wobbly, as well. He felt her dress and hair, smoothing any wrinkles and knots his fingers found.

“You really won’t sleep with him?” he asked her in a small voice she’d never heard before, and her eyes flew to his to see a vulnerable and heartbroken Ominis she wasn’t familiar with.

It was a very easy promise to make. “As long as I have any say in it,” she whispered back, pressing their foreheads together once more and drawing a tiny, hopeful smirk to his lips. “I don’t think it will be much of a problem, though.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I charge thirty-five galleons for the night.” She held out an open palm and tapped him in the chest with it so he knew that she was waiting for payment. Ominis actually laughed, and the sound bolstered her. The prospect of walking down the aisle to meet Louis tomorrow seemed significantly less terrifying now.

“We ought to get you back inside,” he said, but before she could agree and wonder at how long the two had been gone, Ominis had scooped her into his arms, ignoring her cry and giggle, and drew an invisible line on the ground with his toe.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The doorstep,” he replied simply, and carried her over it.

masterlist

#PHEW FIRST OMI FIC THAT WAS SCARY!!!!#big ol ty to miss Haveawhile for helping me sm with this labor of love!!! xx #ominis gaunt fic #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy fic #ominis gaunt x oc #laneywrites

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danielsarmand · 3 months

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thinking about armand being in the trenches during all of season one. thinking about him wanting to be close to the interview, sure, but also just to daniel. thinking about him wanting to soak up his presence and energy and struggling to maintain a stoic, detached façade—not only because of his rashid pretense, but also and more importantly because he's the only custodian of their memories. daniel does not remember him and it's better that way, it's what he wanted, but also... restraining from falling back into their old conversational patterns is hard. and when the acting gig is up and he shows himself, even then he has to pretend. but you can see it, sometimes, how much he wants them to be what he remembers they can be. daniel is so close yet so far, and armand is trapped between him, louis and their shared history. he brought it on himself, sure, but still—it must be hard to exist in a world where the love of your life never knew you.

#armand #daniel molloy #devil's minion #interview with the vampire #iwtv #armandiel #armandaniel #i cannot stop Thinking of them. put me down

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nellielsss · 3 months

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𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ

Summary: He's just so different from you! How could anyone have imagined you getting with someone like him? He's just so... brawny! Inspired by Check On It by Beyoncé. Note: Short little drabble w my favorite brawny boys! I figured it'd be best for something sweet after the previously dark fic... Also I might've characterized Yami wrong but I'm part of the "rough shell, soft heart" agenda!! Incl: Toji Fushiguro, Yami Sukehiro CW: Sexual intercourse, praising, light degrading, mentions of blood/violence

╰┈➤ Nobody could've ever imagined that you'd end up with a man like Toji Fushiguro of all people. For christ's sake--he was a mercenary for hire!! Not only that, but he was just so... brutish and brawny!

For starters, he was a good 6'2, and every single square inch of his body had muscle on it. His traps were wider than Victoria Lake, his abs could shred cheese, and his forearms were thicker than most men's biceps. He only ever wore a tight-fitted black shirt that had a new hole with every usage, and his grey sweatpants somehow remained tied up, even after all the times he's worn them (and forgotten to wash them... seriously, Toji?)

It wasn't just his appearance, either; it was also his personality that made him stick out like a sore thumb. The amount of times he's forgotten to say "please" after ordering a plate of takoyaki has to be recorded in the Guiness Book of World Records.

"Toji, you can't just keep bumping into guys with your tits!" you scolded the man, huffing after he knocked over yet another guy at a restaurant. He merely barked out a laugh at the mention of his "tits" and ruffled your hair.

"Ah, shit, I guess you're right doll-face. Hey, guy back there, sorry for bumping into ya!" he said from over his shoulder almost haphazardly. The guy merely grumbled curses under his breath and went on his way. "Guess he didn't want an apology," he said, turning his head back to you.

"Whatever, just don't make an enemy out of the other diners here. Seriously, what if they jumped you for the $5 you had?"

For someone who wore so much pink, you always had something to say (It should also be mentioned that you swore more than him, even though he was the one getting judged for it).

And then there was you, the chick on his arm: the epitome of bubblegum pink. You were the girl in those 2000s flicks who wore the Juicy Couture tracksuits; the one who had every single Tiffany bracelet/necklace/earring; the one who was first in line when the Louis Vuitton Murakami collection dropped. Your lip gloss was never not reflecting the sun and your hair was never not bouncing. Your charm lied deeper than the surface, though: it was the sassy charm that you had. Always so quick to call somebody a bitch but never slow to reapply your raspberry pink lipstick afterwards.

You were a dream girl, and he was a nightmare, so why did it work so well? Why did you look so good on his huge arms? Why did his face always soften softer than the softest memory foam pillows that money could buy? Why did he always hand you his credit card when you went out shopping with him?

It was quite simple: you were a light--the light in his dark. Where others saw a brutish monster who only knew how to kill, you saw a man worthy of love and appreciation. You knew that there was a soft, gooey inside, and you were probably the first one to reach it.

When he felt like giving up on everything and just disappearing, you were always the first one to touch his face with your manicured hands and calmly yet firmly encourage him to get up because it'd always be okay with you by his side.

So, naturally, he was the first one to cheer for him when he did get up and did what he came to do.

Everything about your relationship was as sweet as the flavor of lip gloss on your lips, and he always wanted seconds. Thirds, if he was turned away from people's prying eyes. Fourths, fifths, sixths--eh, he always lost count of the number of kisses he planted on your lips during your make-out sessions.

Speaking of...

There was nothing sweeter than when he had you on his big lap, ass nestled perfectly in the muscle of his thighs while you made out with him sloppily. He had a light pink blush on his face the entire time, and he was messily pressing his scarred, almost chapped lips to yours. You, likewise, were putting your glossy, delicious lips on his, letting the man do what he wanted to your mouth.

"Mmmmm... ah~"

"Yeah, princess?"

"Gimme more, Toji, more kisses!"

"What's the magic word?"

"P-Please, just... ruin my lip gloss, make me lose my mind, Toji--you're the only one who can make me lose my shit and make it feel so fucking good!"

"Now, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I denied my pretty girl what she wanted?"

With a deep chuckle and another laugh, he pulled you back in for more kisses, greedily devouring your plump lips and bruising them from the sheer intensity. You, likewise, put your hands under his shirt and started lifting it up. "Woah there, doll. Gettin' ahead of ourselves, are we? I like it."

Touching his body wasn't enough for your grubby hands, though; you wanted--needed more of your brawny boyfriend. Having his calloused, impossibly large palms on your body, pawing at the globes of your ass or the fat of your tits never ceased to make you a whiny, moaning little mess.

Speaking of the many things he enjoyed about you... another absolutely sweet thing about you was how you let the man do anything he wanted to your pretty body. He was already twice your size, meaning he could do absolutely anything to you. He could fuck you in mid-air and eat your ass if he wanted to, but there was something so tasty, so delectable about how you willingly gave yourself up for his pleasure. You let him toss you around like a ragdoll on his impossibly large cock, and you even begged him to do so numerous times.

Like when he'd moved the makeout sesh to the bedroom (and tossed off all those pesky clothes along the journey) and had you bent over on the bed. He was holding your hips up in the air, your deliciously juicy ass being pawed at and kneaded by your assassin boyfriend. His face was buried right in between the fat of your cheeks, his tongue lapping up at the delicacy that was your ass. If there was one thing he was, it was an ass-eater. He always made sure to make you cum at least four times on his tongue before he'd bury his cock inside, just to ensure that you didn't break on the damn thing.

"Oh... o-ooh, Toji, f-fuck~" you gasped, your perfectly manicured hands pawing at the sheets and holding onto them for dear life. "You always e-eat me out so fuckin' good, m-more, please!"

You bucked your hips in his face like an impatient, stubborn horse, one that needed things done her way. He spanked you and looked up at you over your cheeks, his mouth detaching from your already abused hole.

"Lemme enjoy my meal in peace first, you fuckin' whore," he growled, spanking at it again and burying his face right back inside.

The muscles of his biceps curled deliciously as he dove right back in, eating your ass even more voraciously. He was an instatiable beast, a brute who bent over his woman as he desired. Well, at least half the time; the other half, he could be quite caring and even needy if he got too into it.

Luckily for you (and your spine), he was seemingly content in a stable but enjoyable pace that worked out for the two of you. Any pace worked for him really--if it was fast, he could easily pound you to his liking, and if it was slow, then he got to savor every little feeling.

Right now, he was working your hips back and forth his cock. His leg was propped up and he had both of his huge hands digging into your hips, making sure that you weren't going anywhere.

"Fuuuck, that's it, baby, move that ass up and down daddy's cock," he rumbled, throwing his head back and groaning. "You just let me do anything I want, eh?"

"Mhm~" was all you could moan. You were barely processing what he was saying, his dick buried too deep to let you think straight. It was like his dick rearranged both your guts and your brain, which wasn't unlikely considering how long and thick it was.

"I bet you can't even hear me properly," he snickered, spanking you slightly to watch the fat jiggle. You let out a yelp, coming back to your senses temporarily and looking over your shoulder at him.

"S-So fucking mean," you panted heavily, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly.

He merely chuckled and dug his dick in as deep as he could, holding himself there so he could abuse your sweet spot and prolong it. "A-Ah~!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're just bullying me now!!"

"Maybe I am, but you're enjoying it, right?"

You stayed silent.

"That's what I fuckin' thought, princess. Goddamn, you're so spoiled by me. I buy you all your cute little things, give you all sorts of kisses, and I'm met with that smart mouth of yours."

Another spank and another press to the prostate.

"But I don't care about any of the shit you say, because at the end of the day? I'm gonna have you takin' this dick until your body gives up. And what makes it better is that you let me, (Y/N). You let me fuck you like you're nothin' more than a flesh light programmed to take my dick. I oughta do that to ya--rewire yer brain so all you know how to do is take. All. Of. My. Inches." he punctuated each word with a thrust, earning more incoherent babbles from your lips. "Aww, what was that? My lil' princess wants to talk? Talk, baby, let daddy hear it."

He gently but firmly grabbed your head, squeezing your jaw open with his hand and leaning in close. "W-Wanna take it day and night, d-daddy! I'll let you do anything you want t'me, just keep fucking me!" you said finally, earning a shit-eating grin from Toji.

"That's what I like to hear, baby. Now, d'ya mind if I speed it up a lil'? Deep strokes are nice and all, but I wanna satisfy this libido of mine as well."

He didn't wait for a response, already speeding up and fucking into you faster and harder. Soon, he was slamming into and bottoming out your already abused ass, the slap and fap of each thrust echoing throughout the room, along with your moans and whimpers. You buried your face in the pillows, the drool spilling from your lips as your big brute of a boyfriend manhandled you and fucked you to his liking.

"Yeahhhh, you're gonna take this big dick o'mine all night long. I don't care if it's 'too much' or 'too good;' you're gonna take it, and you're gonna fucking love it."

A few more thrusts, and he could feel his balls tightening up with each thrust. "Fuckin' hell, look at you, baby," he crooned, reaching down to grab your hair and make you look at the nearby mirror. "If only your friends could see you now: gettin' dicked down by the guy they told you to stay away from. All those little warnings they gave you 'bout me being bad news... I mean, some of 'em were kinda right, but they were wrong about me not knowing how to treat a lady, because look at you. I'm sluttin' you out to your heart's content for crying out loud!"

His words were only met by little whimpers and cute moans that escaped your bruised lips. He chuckled, and he could feel himself softening up by how vulnerable you were being. He reached out, cupping your cheek and releasing your hair. "Hey, look at me baby, look at your boyfriend. I wanna see your pretty face," he crooned softly, turning you over so he could look at you in all your fucked out glory. "You're amazing, taking all this meat like a champ. I'm gonna reward you with a nice, warm cream-pie, is that alright with ya? I'm gonna stuff you niiice and full of my cum until you can't even move, then I'll stuff you some more. I'll breed you 'til you can only rely on me to help you, but don't worry your pretty little head because I'm the man for the job."

All his ramblings were met by soft little whimpers and moans. He knew you were holding out, too embarrassed to speak your dirty truth to him. "Tsk, all bark n' no more left?" he reached down to play with you, jolting you back to reality. "There you go. Now, tell daddy what you want him to do."

"Wanna be stuffed, just like you said... Wanna be manhandled and stuffed 'til I'm oozing cum, and then I wanna be stuffed s'more--I want everything you're telling me about!"

"Oh, everything?" he asked with an amused sneer, slamming back in and making your body jolt and shudder. "It's gonna be a lot, (Y/N), but I know you can take it. You've always taken everything I've given ya, and for that I applaud you."

He stuck a thumb into your mouth and crooned, the sight making his dick harder somehow. "So fuckin' pretty," he murmured. "I got the prettiest little angel in all of Japan right underneath me, taking all my meat. Good god, I must be the luckiest bastard alive, eh?" His thumb exited your mouth and went back to your face, cupping it and squeezing it while he fucked you good.

Finally, you spoke up once more, panting heavily and looking up at him. "Toji... I love you, I love you so much- j-just keep fucking me, keep talking, I wanna forget all about everything else for a little while... Dumb me down, make me stop thinking for now."

He looked at you with understanding, but he happily obliged and ramped up the speed. "Whatever princess wants, princess gets. I've gotcha, baby, daddy's gotcha. Just sit back and lemme do what I do best, hmm?"

"Lemme stuff ya with my love, angel."

It was soft, tender moments during sex like these that made your relationship so wonderful. No matter how big of a brute he was, he'd always be there for you.

╰┈➤ The captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro, was many things. He was a damn good captain, an even better magic knight, and also one of the most feared and revered men in all the land. From the clover to the spade kingdom, everyone knew who he and his crew were. Whether they smiled to themselves or scrunched their noses in disgust, they at least had some knowledge of who he was or at least semblance of a misconception.

Nobody had ever imagined that Captain Yami was ever going to find love, much less true love. The man had some of the worst bowel problems that a man could've had, and who the fuck was ever gonna put up with his shit (literally)? Not only that, but he was just so unappetizing. One couldn't count the number of times he made death threats towards his own people.

"Disturb me while I'm shitting and I'll make sure your life goes to shit," was something he usually said to poor little Asta, or at least a variation of that sentence. The poor guy just wanted to know what the mission was for the day!

Suffice to say, he was quite undesirable. Sure, he had a rugged charm about him, but when does rugged just become prickly?

So when he got himself a girlfriend, everyone was both aghast and bewildered.

"I heard she just got out of prison after almost beating some poor guy to death during her magic exams!"

"Do you even think someone with her track record would've gotten an exam in the first place?"

"I wonder if she has any prison tats!"

"I heard that her favorite food is raw meat, fresh from the source; as in, she'll kill a cow and then start eating it right after!!"

"Who're we talking about?" you asked, your head angled to listen in on their conversation.

"Oh, just Captain Yami's new girl- wait, who are you?!"

"Hey, (Y/N), whaddya think you're doin' out here?!" Yami's voice boomed from the hallway. You and his Black Bulls turned in his direction, looking at the broad-shouldered captain as he made his way over to you all. "What did I tell you about sneakin' off when I'm not looking?"

"Sorry, Sweetie Pie," you giggled, putting your hands behind your back and looking up at him.

"Sweetie Pie?" They each took turns looking at each other. Asta's eyes were blown wide open with both fear and shock, Noelle was confused as to why a woman would get so close to Yami, and Vanessa looked quite intrigued by what she saw. "Is that his sister or something?-"

Yami pulled you in for a kiss and threw his arm around you, pressing your plump, juicy lips to his chapped, rougher ones. You giggled, putting your hands around his neck and standing on your tippy toes to reach him.

"WHAT THE HELL?!?"

Yami glared at them for breaking up your kiss but he let go of you, turning his attention to his subordinates. You also looked at them, all giggly with your lipstick smudged.

"I really didn't wanna do this, but (Y/N) here's left me with no choice. All of you, meet my girlfriend," he said with the slightest hint of a smile.

"GIRLFRIEND?!"

After that day, word quickly spread of Yami's new girlfriend, you, and how you were the antithesis of everything he was.

You with your pink pleated dress that held a petticoat underneath to make it even flouncier; your perfectly curled hair that held strawberry pink highlights; your long, manicured nails that always left marks on Yami's back after a long night spent in his nails. In reality, a woman like you should've been a Coral Peacock--or better yet, a Silver Eagle!

When asked why someone like you would join the Black Bulls, you simply said: "the other crews were too boring. Besides, they didn't have captains as hot as Yami!"

What you lacked in intimidation, you made up for in battle. Although many would've brushed off your "love magic" attribute simply for its name alone, when people actually got to witness it in battle, it was quite daunting. Couple that with your bloodthirsty attitude, and people could understand why you were a Black Bull.

What they couldn't understand was why you chose to date Yami.

You were cute, sweet to those around you (with a mischievous streak), and held a fondness for all things cute, as evident in your wardrobe choices.

You saved and kept stray cats in your room, even though Yami didn't like the way they pawed and kneaded at him with their claws; you liked going to the Capital just to eat all the sweet treats with your salary; you even scolded Yami's gambling habits; you were also motherly to the younger Black Bulls, even though you were barely the same age as they were. Asta always ran to you whenever he needed someone to protect him from the scary captain.

You and Yami together shouldn't have worked out together, but when the two of you were with each other, it just felt so... right! Your dynamic together and the little scolds that you sent Yami's way were just perfect. The way he could instantly melt into a puddle of adoration and love whenever he saw you should've been studied in a lab.

Given his towering stature and the size difference, he had a fondness for scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"Put me down, put me down!" you exclaimed, hitting his muscled back out of annoyance. "I'm still showing Asta my tea collection!!"

"You can show him those leaves later; it's time to give your boyfriend some attention."

Through thick and thin, the two of you were there for one another.

You learned how to stitch up wounds and even took up healing magic just for Yami's sake (as well as the others--Yami just liked to be selfish with you). "This is the last time I let you go out gambling in those shitty ass bars. Can't you at least go to a nice one with people who don't take bigger dumps than you?" You were currently chiding him, stitching up a wound that he got after a poker night escalated into an impromptu mission.

"It's more fun, babe. Besides, it builds character. I oughta take you out with me one day, show off my pretty princess- ow!" he exclaimed, feeling the needle prick him a bit harder than before.

"Take me out to one of those and I'll kill you and the patrons there."

"I don't doubt for a second that you could do all of that," he chuckled, shaking his head at the notion of dating a sweet but psycho girl.

While he had his sweet moments with you, he could also have his rough moments. Like how he had you underneath him with your legs over his shoulders and his cock drilling inside of you.

"Thought shit was sweet, eh, doll face? Thought you could tease me in front of all my subordinates and make me lose my mind?" he asked you mid-stroke, each aggressive snarl punctuated by his cock hitting your prostate. Each time he reached it with the head of his cock, your eyes widened and you threw your head back in pleasure, only to have him grab your chin and make you look at him. "Look at me, doll. Look at me while I fuck your brains out."

"Y-Yes, sir," you whimpered, your lip quivering as he ruined your insides. He scoffed, chuckling to himself, shaking his head at how easily he could make you lose your mind.

"Fuckin' love the way you call me sir; at least a slut like you knows her place."

He readjusted the angle, drilling even deeper into your gaping, abused hole, his heavy balls slapping against your ass deliciously. "Is this what you wanted? To make your man go wild and fuck your brains out?"

You couldn't say anything, biting your lip and trying to suppress all those sweet little moans of yours.

"Nah, don't hide that shit from me, baby, lemme hear you scream for your man." He stuck his fingers into your mouth, prying it open and making you moan like your life depended on it.

"Fuuuck, Yami, fuck me!!" You managed to gargle out, the fingers in your mouth making your words slur together.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Lemme hear the way you love taking this cock--because you do, you do love taking it. You take it every. Single. Night. I bet it turns you on, getting your brains fucked out and your guts rearranged by your captain. Lemme tell you, baby: it feels amazing fuckin' this ass every single night. Makes me feel like the Wizard King himself with the way you milk my cock for all its worth," he said with a laugh, reaching down and slapping your ass again.

You, on the other hand, were too fucked out of your mind with the way he bullied your poor little hole. You were drunk off his cock, your head bobbing back and forth, moans escaping your lips as he destroyed your insides. He chuckled to himself, knowing that he'd broken you just with his cock.

"Little slut can't keep her mind in one piece, even after beggin' her boyfriend to fuck her? Hah, should've known you were all bark and no fucking bite."

If you had any decency or sanity left, you would've kept the noise down in case anyone heard Yami drilling you into his bed--but you didn't; you never had a shred of self respect left after he got you into his bed. He'd make you suck his cock until your jaw couldn't handle it anymore; bend you every which way until he was done; make your ass redder than a tomato.

Right now, he was far from tapping out--he still had at least 30 other positions to put his whore of a girlfriend in! Starting with the full nelson. You wondered why he bought a full length mirror and put it in front of the bed, but you quickly got to understand why when he angled you just right so he could see every little thing happening to you.

He put your back up against his chest and abs, hooked his arms underneath your legs and started right back up again. "Hah, look at the way you're bouncin' on my cock, baby," he crooned into your ear (knowing full well you were knocked out mentally). "Just look at those tits, baby. I'm gonna suck on 'em after I'm done making you bounce on this dick." He thrusted up and down, up and down, his thick cock making squelching sounds with each bottom-out. He watched your cute little cock bounce around, the little thing getting dwarfed by his own size.

"I love putting you in this position, baby. Lets me see my pretty angel in her full glory," he murmured, his words considerably less harsh than before. You merely moaned and laid your head back on his shoulder, mewling as your boyfriend did you in.

"Y'like it when I'm gentler, baby? Well, gentle for my standards," he asked you, continuing to bounce you on his cock.

"Mhm~" you moaned softly, biting your lip.

"Yeah, I know you do," he chuckled, giving your neck a quick kiss and lick before looking back at the mirror. "Y'know I don't mean any of the shit I say, right? You're no whore; you're my sweet little angel who can do no wrong."

"Mhm~"

"Ah, shit, I might've done you in a little too hard," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't help myself when it comes to you, gorgeous. You make me feel all sorts'a things, make me lose my cool."

"I d-do?"

"Of course you do, baby. You're just too pretty for your own good... you're the only weak spot in my armor--my one and only Achilles heel. You make me lose my cool, and pathetically so," he repeated once more, pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he did so.

"H-Hah, you bet your sorry ass I do," you giggled softly, smiling to yourself and mewling once more.

He simply shook his head and held you tighter, whispering little "I love you"s into your ear all while holding your legs up so he could keep making his baby feel good.

Suddenly, he felt your hole tightening up around his cock, and it made him more alert as to what was going on. "Sir- 'm gonna, 'm gonna cum soon," you said through mewls, your thighs quivering and shaking as he thrusted up into you.

"Yeah? Go ahead, baby--make a mess all over Yami's cock." You did as he told, spurting cum all over your perfect body and tits, and he quickly shot his load right into you afterwards. "Shit, shit, shit- fuuuck, that's right, sweets; take all my cum. It's all for you, so make sure you don't waste a single drop," he panted, holding you down firmly so he could empty his balls inside of you.

Even after emptying a whole load into your gaping hole, his cock was still hard and ready. "H-How are you still hard?" you asked as he repositioned you onto your back.

"I told ya already: it's that effect you've got on me. Besides, I've been single for a while until you came along, so I've got a lot of pent-up frustration and cum to give ya." He gave you a cheeky grin, spreading your cheeks apart and reinserting himself into your stuffed hole. Some of the cum spilled out with his deep thrusts, and you were back to the moaning mess that he wanted you to be.

"Just like that, take your boyfriend's cock, baby," he murmured, reaching down to plant a kiss on your lips. He moved to your sensitive tits, his tongue swirling around your nipple and taking it into his mouth. You let out another gorgeous mewl, throwing your head back out of pleasure.

"I can't- I can't take anymore, Yami," you whimpered, feeling overstimulated with everything that was happening to you.

"Of course you can, baby. You're a big girl; you're stronger than you look after all," he reassured you, surprisingly soft and sweet for his usual demeanor. Once he felt you relax around his cock, he sighed, planting even more kisses on your body. "Just like I knew you could... god, baby, you're so good to me, so fucking good. One of these days, I'm gonna wife you up n' parade you around on my arm, make all those other captains jealous of me, heh. Yeah, you'll make the perfect wife to me. I'll give you this dick every night, and you'll give me all of that sweet, sweet love of yours, hm? Sounds like a fair trade to me. Mrs. Yami Sukehiro... yeah, sounds about right."

You simply nodded, his cock hitting your prostate repeatedly, each hit turning your brain into mush. He looked down at you with nothing but love in his eyes, allowing himself to be soft for a little while.

"Just keep moanin', baby, your captain's got you."

The next day, the other Black Bulls avoided looking at both you and Yami, their cheeks too flushed from the noises you made last night. Yami could see it on their faces, so he shot everyone a wink and threw an arm around your shoulder.

#toji fushiguro #toji smut #jjk toji #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin #toji x you #yami sukehiro x reader #yami sukehiro

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