#yandere marquis
Text
Yandere Short Stories:
Pinky Promise
Yandere Lesbian Knight x Afab! Childhood Friend Reader x Yandere Cross Dressing Noble (Genderfluid)
“Today we have a new orphan joining us.” The director pushed a young girl with (hair length and color) hair forward, the young girl shyly glanced at the other orphans. She was awfully small compared to the other kids and dainty like a doll. “This is (your first name). Play nicely.”
(Your name) shyly glanced around at the other kids, a young girl with bright red hair stuck out to her the most. The large girl played with a stick in the corner of the room by herself. (Your name) slowly approached the girl.
“H-hello.” (Your name) bowed her head when the red head snapped her head to look at her. The young girl looked much like a wounded animal than a nine year old, which only made (your name) even more nervous. “I-I’m (your first name), what’s your name?”
The crimson haired girl simply sat still, not muttering a single word while her cinnamon colored eyes glanced (your name) up and down. A scoff then left her lips.
“Leave me alone.” (Your name) nearly cried when the red head glared at her. “I don’t need friends.”
Another girl toddled over to (your name) and took her hand. “That’s Marisa. She’s mean. But you can come play with us! I’m Jezebel!”
(Your name) glanced back at Marisa who sat hunched over at her spot in the corner. She looked so lonely…
.
.
.
“You shouldn’t hang out with Marisa, (your name).” Jezebel whispered to the (hair color) girl. “She’s bad luck.”
For the last few weeks, (your name) tried to get closer to the red haired girl. But to no avail. She was met with hostility and cruel insults. Marisa was just like a wounded animal… one that had been cornered and beaten for so long that it didn’t know how to handle affection.
“Bad luck?” (Your name) asked softly, she turned to glance at the messy crimson haired girl. Her body hunched over in the corner as she hugged herself close.
“She has blood red hair. She has impure blood.”
“Impure blood?” (Your name) tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow in confusion. What on earth did that mean?
“Yes… it means she has monster blood.” Jezebel hissed, her body trembled when Marisa turned to glance their way. “She’ll grow up and become a monster.”
(Your name) frowned and glanced over at Marisa. Her heart clenched at how miserable she looked. How long had she been alone?
“I don’t think she’s a monster.” (Your name) softly whispered before she stood up. The young girl placed a finger on her chin. “Thanks for your concern, Jezebel but I think I’ll take my chances. If she tears me apart then you’re right. But if not, you’ll have to apologize.”
(Your name) even more determined to befriend the crimson haired girl… but how?
.
.
Marisa furrowed her brow when (your name) offered to share her food with her. This was new. She was suspicious of the new orphan. (Your name) was stupidly trusting of people and naive. Marisa hated it. Marisa hated how the other girl kept trying to get close to her… did (your name) know she was a monster?
“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Marisa huffed, the red head crossed her arms over her chest. Her messy red waves covered her cinnamon eyes a bit from the movement. “You probably have your germs all over that bread anyways.”
(Your name) frowned but placed the half loaf beside Marisa’s plate. Her expression hopeful.
“You just always sit alone…” (your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper, her body shook a bit under Marisa’s intense gaze. “I want to sit with you.”
Marisa rolled her eyes, the red head snatched the stale bread and took a bite. Her eyes cautiously glance over the smaller girl. (Your name) couldn’t hurt her even if she tried. She was so small, her wrist would probably snap if she tried to hit Marisa.
(Your name) was like a lost, little lamb that approached a wolf. Didn’t she know how dangerous the world was? How people could harm her or have ulterior motives? How could someone be so naive?
“Whatever.” Marisa stiffened when (your name) scooted next to her, her arms wrapped around Marisa in a hug. “Hey?! What are you doing, weirdo?!”
“Well, I’m hugging my friend.” (Your name) giggled with a bright smile. Marisa felt her heart stop for a minute, an unfamiliar feeling washing over her. Was this magic?
“You’re weird.” Marisa huffed, a small blush on her face. Maybe she’d let (your name) stick around… maybe.
.
.
.
The two girls were inseparable. Wherever Marisa was, (your name) was. At first it irritated the crimson haired girl. Why on earth did (your name) have to be so persistent about being by her side? Yet there was a part of her that adored it.
Marisa loved that (your name) would cry when she wasn’t there. That (your name) depended on her company. It made Marisa feel wanted for once…
And it’s why Marisa interfered whenever someone was interested in adopting (your name). She didn’t want to lose her only friend… her family.
Marisa would throw bugs from the trees on potential adopters and play nasty pranks on them. She’d do anything to keep (your name) by her side.
“Mari?” (Your name) mumbled from their shared bed, her little body snuggled against the red haired girl’s body. “Are you having nightmares?”
Marisa felt herself melt under (your name)’s concerned expression. The red haired girl curled into (your name)’s body, her arms wrapped around the smaller girls in a comforting manner. Yes… this felt right, this was right.
“I was just thinking was all.” Marisa whispered, her hands moved to throw the blanket over (your name) and her head to hide their secret pact. “Can you promise me something?”
(Your name) eagerly nodded her head. Her eyes focused on Marisa’s. “Yes, of course.”
“Stay with me forever.” Marisa whispered from under the white sheet. Her cinnamon eyes full of seriousness. “Pink promise me.”
(Your name) nodded her head and took Marisa’s pinky in hers. “Pinky promise.”
The two girls laid under the sheets in a mess of limbs. It wasn’t just a promise to Marisa… it was a swear.
.
.
.
One day, an elderly gentleman came to the orphanage. One that took great interest in (your name). To the point even Marisa’s tactics to get him to change his mind wouldn’t work. She had overheard the man talk about (your name)‘s pure mana. How lucky was her friend to be gifted in magic while she had no skills…
The elderly man frowned at how distraught the red haired girl was when she realized her friend was going to be adopted. The elder held out a hand to the sniffling girl.
“Why don’t you come with us?” He asked in a soft voice. “You just want to be with your friend, don’t you?”
Marisa stared at the old man with wide eyes. His salt colored facial hair nearly concealed his whole face but he had kind eyes… eyes that were similar to (your name)‘s.
“Y-you’d adopt me too?”
“Well of course. I’d hate to separate someone who has worked so hard to be beside their friend.” The old man smiled at Marisa. “My name is Orick. I’m a herbalist.”
“My name is Marisa Guerra… and I’m (your name)‘s best friend.”
Orik took the red head girl’s hand and lead her over to (your name) who smiled brightly at Marisa. It seemed the two of them would continue to be together.
The two girls ran towards each other and hugged. Orik smiled at the two. This time he’d ensure (your name)‘s safety… he wouldn’t fail her family twice.
And Marisa would be the perfect fit for her protector.
.
.
.
(Your name) and Marisa giggled as they sat side by side in a lavender field. The violet flowers tangled between their small hands while they wove flower crowns for one another.
“Mari, you suck at this.” The smaller girl giggled at her friend’s expense. The red haired girl flushed a bright pink in the face from how distorted her crown was.
“I’m doing my best! Not my fault my hands aren’t as dainty as yours.” Marissa grumbled, the red head snuck glances here and there towards the smaller girl. “You’re just more graceful than me, (your name).”
Marisa memorized the details on (your name)’s face, she always found herself staring at her best friend. Was it strange that her heart beat so wildly in her chest whenever they were together? Marisa didn’t quite understand the feelings that bloomed in her for the sweet (hair color) girl
“Well I made you one, see?” (Your name) gently placed the lavender flower crown on Marisa’s head. (Your name) gave her best friend a bright smile. “You look so pretty in purple.”
Marisa blushed, the young red head brushed a crimson wave out of her face. She swore her heart would explode from the simple compliment.
“Not nearly as pretty as you. I don’t think there’s anyone as pretty as you.”
Even as a child, Marisa meant exactly what she said. (Your name) was the prettiest girl Marisa had ever seen and the only one she had eyes for.
“You’re so silly, Mari. You act like I’m some kind of princess!” (Your name) squealed when Marisa grabbed her hands and began to press kisses on them. “Mari!”
“To me, you are the most beautiful princess.” Marisa smiled as she began to press more kisses to (your name)’s hands. “And I’m your loyal knight.”
“But we’re Orik’s apprentices.”
The two girls giggled together, their hands linked while they admired the sunset together.
.
.
.
“Of course you little peasants always stick together.” A young noble girl stuck her nose up at (your name) and Marisa while the duo played together in the streets from the window in her fancy blue carriage. The golden family crest of the Phoenix showed off which family she belonged to, Marquis Golding.
The marchioness’s long golden curls were pulled back behind her head in a half braid while the rest spilled out over her shoulders. “Why don’t you two play elsewhere?”
“Oh hello, Marchioness Golding.” (Your name) greeted the blonde with a smile, which threw the blonde off. The blonde glanced away, a pinkish tint to her ears. “We were close to the street, weren’t we? Thanks for looking out-“
“(Your name), she’s making fun of us.” Marisa softly pointed out, the redhead glared at the haughty blonde. She didn’t understand why the blonde insisted on bothering with them. “We’ll go elsewhere, Marchioness Golding.”
Marissa rose up to her feet and took (your name)‘s hands in hers. The marchioness turned red in the face from the sight. It wasn’t fair… it wasn’t fair that they were able to live freely while she was trapped to live the life of a noble.
Cressida could only watch as the two left. Her heart clenched when (your name) waved goodbye to her before Marissa tugged her away.
Was it wrong for Cressida to want (your name)? The girl was oddly sophisticated for a mere peasant… it made Cressida curious.
Was (your name) hiding something just like her?
Not to mention how (your name)’s features were eerily similar to a portrait she’s seen once… but where had Cressida last seen it?
.
.
.
Orik smiled at (your name) who fretted ow r an injured bird. Tears in her eyes, her heart ached for the bird that was missing a part of its wing.
“Now, (your name). With your affinity for healing magic, you can heal things.” Orik softly told the young girl. His wrinkled hands guided hers over the bird. “But you cannot heal what is no longer there.”
“What do you mean, master?”
“Wounds can be closed but they may leave scars.” Orik softly told her, the old wizard assisted her in healing the injured bird. “It’s flight feathers will have to grow back once it molts but you were able to reattach the bones. You have limits, my dear.”
(Your name) smiled at Orik’s teachings. The elder always took time to teach her about healing magic and herbalism.
“I sense you’ll become a great healer one day.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
.
.
.
“Mari, you can’t keep stealing.” (Your name) chided her friend, the young adult scoffed in response.
The years have turned the two of them into adults and Marisa has been on a rebellious streak as of late. The red haired woman now towered over her friend and (your name) was sure Marisa was almost seven feet tall.
“We have to survive too. Orik doesn’t have much money despite once being the grand wizard.” Marisa grumbled as she crossed her muscular arms over her chest. “The royals don’t care about orphans like us. We could starve for all they care.”
“But what if they catch you? You could get hurt…”
“I can’t keep up with your skills in magic. You’re going to be a great healer one day and I’m just me… Orik’s ways don’t suit me.” Marisa sighed, the large teen bent down to sit beside (your name) on the grassy hill. “I’m not smart like you…”
“But I’m sure you could become a knight. Or maybe even a monster hunter. You’re super strong!” (Your name) smiled at her friend, which made Marisa sigh. The redhead shoved the loaf of bread into (your name)’s hand.
“Eat your bread. At least make my efforts worth it. I doubt we’ll eat anything this good until we’re done learning from Orik.” Marisa huffed. She draped her arm over (your name)‘s shoulder to pull her closer.
The two women admired the city lights from below. (Your name)’s eyes sparkle in wonder from how magic had made the lights below shine so brightly.
“It’s such a beautiful sight, isn’t it?”
Cinnamon colored eyes were directed at (your name), a softness in them that was only reserved for the young woman in front of her. “Yes it is…”
Marisa rested her head on (your name)‘s, her feelings once more bubbled to the surface like boiling soup. Marisa knew exactly what she felt for the other girl… it was just wondering if (your name) returned even a fraction of what she felt. If they had a chance to be something more than friends…
Yet it wasn’t something Marisa wanted to chance. She’d rather die than lose her best friend, no… her reason to live.
In this sick world, her only solace was (your name) and Marisa would rather chop her own foot off with a dull butter knife than let anything happen to the small girl.
“(Your name)?”
“Yes?”
“I’d kill for you.” (Your name) giggled at her friend’s words, the smaller girl not taking what the other woman said seriously. Kill for her? How absurd.
“Well, I hope you never have to. I’d hate for you to end up in prison or even on death row.”
Marisa pressed herself further into (your name), a sad smile on her face. She’d do anything for (your name). Anything.
.
.
.
“(Your name)?” (Your name) froze when a certain marchioness made her way towards her. Her pale pink skirts held in her hands as she barged into (your name)‘s study.
Ever since they became teenagers, Cressida Golding bothered her more and more. But rather than her weak attempts at bullying in childhood, Cressida made an attempt to befriend (your name). The golden haired girls cheeks flushed whenever she was around the (hair color) girl and her palms would be sweaty.
Yet Cressida made no move to befriend Marisa, only (your name).
“Would you like to go to a salon with me? I could buy you a dress…” Cressida fiddled with her fingers, her cerulean eyes anxiously glanced at (your name). “Or you could probably fit into some of my old ones… I’ve been growing a lot as of late.”
“That’s okay, marchioness Golding. Thank you-“
“It’s just Cressida!” Cressida rasped out, her body trembled in anxiousness. “And I insist. Please?”
“But I’m just a peasant…” (your name) softly whispered, but Cressida waved her off.
“No, you’re not! You’re nothing like that red head or the others!” Cressida put her hands over her mouth at her outburst. She hadn’t meant to be so loud and excitable. “I actually found out something rather interesting about you.”
“What do you mean, Cressida?” Cressida took (your name)’s hands in her clammy ones. A big smile on her face.
“I’ll tell you my findings if you come to the salon I’m hosting!”
(Your name) thought about it for a moment before she sighed. She knew Cressida wouldn’t accept no as an answer. The golden haired girl was quite spoiled after all…
“Okay… I’ll come.” Cressida squealed and pulled (your name) in for a hug. Her cerulean eyes lit up like stars.
“I swear you won’t be disappointed, darling!” The blonde then took off with a skip in her step.
(Your name) sighed and glanced at her books that laid strewn out all over her desk. Now where did she leave off?
.
.
.
A scream escaped Marisa’s mouth when a guard slammed their foot into her ribcage in a dark alleyway. Her plunders strewn all over the alleyway’s floor. Marisa had simply wanted to gift (your name) something nice, it wasn’t even something super expensive. It was just a rose quartz tied together with twine.
A twisted smirk crawled on the guard’s face at her anguished expression.
“Well look who I finally caught! The street rat that my mistress hates.” His hand tangled in Marisa’s short red hair and yanked her head up. “You’re not so tough now, are ya?”
Marisa vehemently glared at the guard before she launched a wad of spit on his dirty face. The guard threw her to the ground in anger his shirt ripped from the grip she had on him, his hand wiped the spit off his face. The fabric crest of the family he served was clutched tightly in her fist.
“You’ll pay for that.” Marisa’s eyes widened when the guard drew his sword, the metal menacingly glinted under the streetlights.
A scream rung throughout the alleyway and then silence.
.
.
.
(Your name) frantically ran down the streets. Her head turned every which way in hopes of finding Marisa. Marisa wasn’t home on time and she was never late…
(Your name) clutched her cloak tightly to her body in an attempt to comfort herself. She needed to find her friend…
“Marissa?” (Your name) called out to no avail. And that’s when she saw it… a crumbled body of a certain red head and a pool of blood.
A scream that would make anyone weep at the strangled sound escaped (your name)’s chest as she launched herself beside her friend. Her small hands rolled over Marisa’s body to see where the wound was… only for horror to crawl down (your name)’s spine.
The entire left side of Marisa’s face was completely mutilated with cute. The blood seemed never ending while the skin of her left cheek no longer concealed her teeth. And her tongue was cut up as well.
“W-who did this to you?” (Your name) wept as she did her best to use her magic to heal her friend. “Who hurt you?”
Her tears felt never ending as she did her best to heal what she could. This half of her friend’s face would more likely be permanently disfigured from this ordeal no matter how good of a healer (your name) was. There just wasn’t enough left of her face to completely heal it.
“Mari… oh Mari.” (Your name) sobbed as she held Mari’s body close to her. Marisa was so cold and barely breathing… but she was alive. Thank god… “I’m so sorry, Mari.”
(Your name) held Marisa close to her, a certain family crest caught (your name)’s eye. The golden Phoenix mocked her.
“Marquis Golding…”
.
.
.
Cressida held her sore cheek in shock when (your name) struck her. The smaller woman’s face red with rage, a crumbled family crest was balled up in her fist.
“You witch!” (Your name) hissed, the crest suddenly thrown at Cressida who sat dumbstruck on the floor. “How dare you have one of your guards attack Marisa… how dare you!”
“(Y-your name)? What do you mean?” Cressida cried, her eyes filled with tears. Not out of guilt, but out of fear. Fear of (your name) leaving her behind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“
“Don’t pretend you don’t! Your guard hurt Marisa and now… she’ll never be able to live a normal life!” (Your name) felt a sob rack through her body, her hands tightly clutched her chest. “How could you-“
Creature rose up from the floor and ran towards (your name) until she fell to her knees in front of the young woman. Her hands tightly clutched (your name)’s.
“I didn’t order him to… I wouldn’t do that.” Cressida began to sob. “I know you care about her… I wouldn’t do that.”
(Your name) froze when Cressida began to bawl. Fat tears rolled down her pale cheeks as she tightly clutched the skirt of (your name)’s linen dress like a lifeline.
“Please don’t abandon me! I swear I didn’t order it! I swear! I swear!” Cressida buried her face in (your name)’s skirt, her tears and snot wet the fabric. “I wouldn’t hurt you!”
“It’s okay, Cressida. I’m sorry for letting my anger get the best of me.” (Your name) held Cressida’s face in her palms. Guilt washed over her at the welt on Cressida’s face. “I shouldn’t have hurt you-“
“Don’t apologize! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t know! I’m sorry!” Cressida nuzzled her face in (your name)’s soft palms with a sigh. “You’re allowed to be upset! But I’ll take care of it all! Just for you!”
(Your name) furrowed her brow at the almost euphoric look in Cressida’s teary cerulean eyes. There was something incredibly off about the golden haired woman… but who was she to judge?
“Okay, Cressida… I believe you.” (Your name) was nearly launched back when Cressida lunged forward to hug her,
“Thank you! Thank you! I promise I’ll fix everything. Just leave it all to me.” Cressida buried her face in the crook of (your name)’s neck.
If only (your name) could see the demented smile on Cressida’s face then she’d know of the danger she was in…
.
.
.
The portly guard was thrown into a dungeon. His eyes wide in horror when he saw the young marchioness in the middle of the cell. The other guards quickly locked the door and left the guard alone with the young woman.
“M-my lady?! Have I offended you in some way?” The guard felt his blood run cold when a deep chuckle escaped Cressida’s lips.
“You know it’s my lord in private.” The guard bowed his head when he heard bones begin to snap. The guard shivered in pure fear when he felt an icy glare on him. Oh god… he hadn’t mean to upset him.
“I’m sorry my lord-“ The guard’s head was suddenly pulled up by the thin strands of his hair. A hauntingly beautiful man now stood before him in place of the marchioness. His cerulean blue eyes cold and unforgiving like the sea.
“Do you know what you’ve almost cost me?” The young man angrily hissed.
“N-no, my lord-“ the guard’s face was suddenly slammed into the stone floor. A loud, audible crunch rung throughout the empty dungeon.
“The throne! I need (your name) for the throne!” The guard’s head was slammed over and over into the ground as the young man had a tantrum. “My beautiful, perfect darling is the lost Duchess of (last name)! If I marry her, an illegitimate child like me could become the crown prince! And you almost screwed it all up because you sliced up her friend’s face!”
The guard’s face was practically hamburger meet from how mashed it was. A few of the his teeth now missing as he choked on his blood. The golden haired man sighed before dropping the guard to the ground.
“I just got so lucky my darling is so wonderful and understanding… she even apologized to me after she struck me.” The delusional man suddenly held his body to imitate a hug. “I am so lucky to have stumbled upon her… don’t you think we’ll be beautiful together?”
The guard could only gurgle and gasp, the portly man struggled to breathe. The blonde sighed in frustration. “An imbecile like you could never understand our love… but she said she’d let me handle it! So we’re not quite done yet, mister guard.”
The guard was then dragged to be chained to the floor. The young man smiled down at the disoriented guard, his haunting beauty similar to an angel of death.
The man then snapped his fingers to alert his butler to come over with a cage full of rats. The top of the cage held a metal bowl at the top and a removable tray at the bottom,
“Prince Chrysanthos. I really do think you’ve outdone yourself.” The butler sighed before he placed the metal cage atop of the guard’s stomach and pulled out the tray so that the rats were now had no metal bottom. Yet they couldn’t escape.
“You flatter me, Gerald. I simply wish to be a strict ruler who would do anything for his beloved. My enemies must know not to mess with me or her.” Chrysanthos smiled at Gerald who nodded. The salt and pepper haired man walked over to a small bowl filled with hot coals.
“You’re doing a fantastic job, sir.” The butler handed Chrysanthos the bucket. “Would you like to do the honors?”
“Of course.” Chrysanthos then dumped the hot coals into the bowl atop of the cage. “This is what you get for upsetting my love. Your death will be slow and agonizing as the rats claw through your body to escape the heat.”
The guard began to loudly scream when he felt the rats scratch and bite at his skin.
Gerald glanced over at the insane blonde before him. Not a doubt in his mind that Crysanthos was a demon despite his angelic appearance.
“Do you wish to watch, sir? Or do you want to buy a dress for you darling?”
The butler remaind stoic when Chrysantho’s mood did a complete 180 degree turn. A bright smile on his angelic features.
“I would love to. Do you think she’d look beautiful in gold? Or should I perhaps dress her in lighter colors until the engagement?” Chrysanthos sighed dreamily. “My beautiful darling would look good in anything… I can’t wait to see her at my salon.”
The butler nodded as the two men left the guard behind to suffer his ill fate.
Chrysanthos babbled the whole way out. Gerald just didn’t understand what it was about that girl that drove the prince so mad.
.
.
.
(Your name) laid beside Marisa. Her arms wrapped around her friend as Orik frowned at her.
“She should wake up soon, my dear. You’ve been up for three days now… you can’t let yourself fall apart too.” Orik expressed his worry for his adopted daughter.
“I just want to be here when she wakes up.” (Your name) whispered softly, her hands stroked Marisa’s scarred face. “I want her to know I’m here… that I’ll always be here.”
Orik sighed but he understood her pain. “I won’t stop you but why don’t you just lay beside her?”
Orik snapped his fingers, a blanket now magically placed around her shoulders. The old man wrapped the blanket snuggly around (your name)’s body.
The young woman rested her body beside Marisa’s. The two women curled into one another.
As the young woman finally fell into the clutches of sleep, she failed to notice Marisa was now awake. Her cinnamon eyes softened at the eye bags and tear stained face of her friend.
Marisa struggled to speak, her throat felt so dry… Marisa went to sit up, her cinnamon colored eyes wide in horror at her reflection. Her whole body trembled at the hideous scars on her face. Oh god… it wasn’t a nightmare.
Marisa’s fingers traced over the ugly lines of scars on the left side of her face. Tears fell from her eyes as reality washed over her. She was ugly now…
“She did her best to heal what was left of your face.” Orik softly told Marisa from the door way. “I think she did an amazing job from what she said was left of you.”
Marisa glanced down at (your name) who laid curled up beside her. Her small hands tightly clutched Marisa’s shirt.
“Marisa. I have been quite lenient toward your rebellious behavior but I think it’s time you start to do something with you life.” Orik told the young woman, the elderly man made his way over. “I have a friend in the north who could train you in the way of the sword.”
“But I… I can’t leave (your name) behind. Especially with that stupid marchioness running about.”
“Who said I wouldn’t send the both of you?” Orik softly asked. “I may be old, but I’m willing to relocate to get away from that noble… they terrify me.”
Marisa paused, the muscular teen cast a glance at the sleeping (your name). A sunkissed finger hesitantly brushed a stray strand of hair out of (your name)’s face.
“If she wants to… we’ll move.”
“Excellent. Let me know what she says when she wakes up.” Orik smiled at the two young women. “We can leave in a week’s time at the earliest.”
Marisa glanced down at (your name) who clutched onto her body like a koala bear. A soft smile graced her lips as she leaned down to press a kiss on (your name)’s forehead.
“Thank you… I owe you my life once again.” Marisa pressed her forehead against (your name)’s while her arms snaked around (your name)’s body. “You’re always saving me when I’m supposed to be protecting you… I swear I’ll become stronger and I’ll be able to provide us a better life.”
Marisa laid beside (your name) until she succumbed to sleep as well. Their limbs tangled and their hearts full from one another’s company.
.
.
.
Orik did his best to keep a stoic expression when marchioness Golding visited their home bright and early. A large, neatly wrapped gift sat in her butler’s arms as the two nodded at Orik.
“Is (your name) home?” Cressida asked, a giddiness in her voice. “I brought her dress for the salon today.”
Orik frowned but relented on letting Cressida inside. He didn’t want to make an enemy of the golden terror, she was well known for her volatile temper.
“(Your name)?!” Cressida sing songed the small teen’s name in hopes she’d come running over to her. “I’m here to take you to the salon! I have your dress-“
Cressida froze when she saw (your name) fast asleep in her bed. The small girl curled up under her various blankets, her chest softly rose with each breath. She looked like a fairy…
Cressida slowly approached the bed until she sat on the end of it. She outstretched her pale hand to touch (your name)‘s cheek but a large hand stopped her.
Cressida nearly screamed at the sight of Marisa’s disfigured face. The scars made her even more fearsome to gaze at.
“What on earth are you doing?!” Marissa hissed like a snake, her cinnamon eyes narrowed at the golden haired noblewoman. An overwhelming desire to protect the unconscious (your name) consumed the redhead.
“I was just going to wake her was all.” Cressida snatched her wrist back from Marisa’s brutish grip. “You don’t have to be such a brute all the time.”
Marisa scoffed and crossed her muscular arms over her chest. She stuck her nose up at Cressida, Cressida’s face twisted in disgust at the prominent dorsal hump on Marisa’s large nose. Why did Marisa look more masculine when Cressida was Chrysanthos?
“Maybe you shouldn’t be such a creep.”
(Your name) stirred awake, the young woman glanced between her two friends who seemed to be about to argue.
“Good morning-“ (your name) almost screamed when Cressida launched at her to try to hug her but Marisa pushed the blonde over so the blonde onto the end of the bed instead. The blonde landed with a loud thud.
“What was that for?! You could have ruined my dress-“ Cressida quickly calmed herself. She didn’t want to scare her darling away… “I’m here to take you away to the salon, (your name)!”
“Oh… that is today isn’t it?” (Your name) whispered. She had forgotten all about it since she’s been so preoccupied worrying about Marisa. Did that make her an awful friend? “I’m sorry for not being ready, Cressida.”
“No, it’s alright! I bought you a dress.” Cressida leapt up from the bed and scurried over the Gerald. The blonde practically snatched the box from his hands and handed it to (your name). “Here! Open it!”
(Your name) hesitantly opened the box to reveal a beautiful blush colored dress. Her hands grasp the straps to admire it in awe.
“Oh wow… it’s beautiful, Cressida.” (Your name) smiled at her friend who blushed a bright pink.
“Let’s put it on and if we leave now, my maids can do your hair and makeup.” Cressida beamed, much to Marisa’s dismay. (Your name) couldn’t possibly have agreed to hang out with this haunted porcelain doll wannabe.
(Your name) smiled and rose up from the bed with the dress in her arms. The young woman turned to her two friends.
“I’ll need help with this…”
The two women glanced at each other before they rushed over to help (your name). The young woman chuckled at how eager her friends were to help.
.
.
.
(Your name) twirled around in the blush colored dress while Cressida and Marisa admired her. How could someone be so beautiful?
“You look beautiful…” Cressida muttered softly, her cerulean eyes filled with admiration. She wanted to burn this image into her brain forever…
Marisa on the other hand was speechless. Marisa’s throat became dry like sand, her hands now sweaty, and her pupils dilated at the sight in front of her eyes. It took everything in Marisa not to pull (your name) in for a kiss- wait… a kiss? Where did that thought come from?
Marisa shook her head, her cheeks warm when she noticed (your name)’s eyes on her. Oh no… she hadn’t meant to stare for so long.
“Y-you look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” (Your name) thanked her friends for their compliment, Cressida’s sharp eyes soon realized (your name) didn’t have proper footwear… she’d have to buy her some.
“Let’s be on our way. I’ll pick you some shoes out and you’ll be all set.”
Marisa frowned when Cressida stole (your name) away. She hated Cressida and not just because Cressida held an obvious torch for (your name). No. There was something off about the golden haired girl.
And Marisa’s gut has never been proven wrong… but she couldn’t put her finger on what it could be…
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere original character#yandere lovers#yandere love#Yandere love triangle#Yandere noble#yandere marquis#Yandere knight#yandere lesbian#Yandere wlw#original work#Yandere original work#yandere girl#yandere males#obsessive yandere#protective Yandere#original character#wlw#wlw oc#wlw ocs#genderfluid
501 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yay I was the anon who asked if you watch the new John Wick film, I hoped you enjoyed the movie!
Can I request some yandere marquis de gramont headcanons? (it can be romantic or platonic)
man was the biggest prick that i had seen in a while from a movie lol
Yandere Vincent de Gramont Headcanons
A/N:You read my mind Anon lmaoo - I was literally planning on writing some HCs for the Marquis <3
Despite the initial conception one may have about Vincent's dedication to a lover – that being none – he's actually surprisingly...loyal.
While he has the playboy exterior, enough money to soak up the oceans of the Earth and all the allure that comes with his occupation, he secretly feels as if he has nothing at all.
What he wants, what he really, truly wants, is to feel something new. Something he’s never experienced before.
Love.
Not just for himself - for someone else.
His brush with John Wick made him realise how empty his life was by comparison to the Boogeyman, who lived and almost died for the memory of love.
And that stuck with Vincent. Affected him more than he’d like to admit.
But, his heightened status above most others has left him isolated with few who wish to know him in a capacity beyond acquaintances for fear of incurring his wrath with a misplaced word or an overstepped boundary.
Thus, love is almost an impossibility for the Marquis.
And then he met you.
And grew obsessed intrigued. Fast.
He likely met you in passing completely separate from his usual crowd – which is to say hunters and murderers.
And he's taken aback by you; your beauty, your charm, your personality. In a way that, while many others have tried, have never breached Vincent’s superficial interest.
Or perhaps you nurse that same melancholy void he harbours; the desire for something more. Which, divulging it to him, a complete stranger, the Marquis finds oddly endearing. Vulnerable.
He’s enchanted. The void in his chest seems to tighten somewhat. Heal.
You’ve given him what no other has before. Genuine, friendly, interested conversation. All without even knowing who he is.
Now, having to rush off, apologising with a smile for taking up his time with “Trivial banter,” Vincent watches your retreating form.
He has his sights set on you.
Over the next few days, while conducting business and going about his everyday life, Vincent’s mind keeps crawling back to you, those fateful minutes wherein he felt he knew everything about you and nothing at all.
Though, he doesn't actually want to admit it at first.
While, yes, he does want to experience true love, he is entirely unwilling to acknowledge the disgustingly human need to feel something.
So, he tries to hide it. Bury it beneath his work, French desserts and luxuries you've never even heard of.
But, over time, you spring back up in the forefront of his mind when you are no longer content with being a voice in the background. A memory of a time where Vincent felt as if he’d truly been seen.
And Vincent, passing off his secret enthusiasm as boredom, a mere meandering of memories, ‘allows’ the odd thought of you to trickle in here and there.
You are a form of medicine. Whenever Vincent feels something undesirable brewing in his chest, he finds himself back with you on that bench in the park, your warmth and presence sun rays against his face as he’s transported from one of his many mansions to beside you once more.
And, even if he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, you scratch the right spot in his psyche that material gain just can’t. Not in comparison to the human touch you have.
Gramont’s so used to people regarding him with favour or fear that it still takes him aback now how kindly you treated him, not knowing who he is or what he does.
You had nothing to gain from your kindness. And yet you still gave it to him.
Healed him with it.
Vincent’s daydreams start to grow more intense the longer he thinks about you.
An emulated conversation. Additions and projections of the recollections of your encounter, no matter how brief. Anything to let Vincent feed off the feeling you gave him when he’s exhausted the phantom of your first encounter.
There comes a point, weeks after you first met, where Vincent spends more time in these memories, both real and fabricated, than in the conscious world. And they strengthen, pulling his focus from his work, from his duties.
At first, this manifests as a glazed look in his eyes, one which, to all those who knew of him, could pen as the typical, uninterested Marquis stare.
He wears the same one in the comfort of his private rooms, one where nobody can see what he’s thinking. But now, people can see Vincent couldn’t care less about the projected bounty of this one killer from Wales; he just wants to be left alone with his thoughts.
His men have started to notice, too.
And, one evening, Vincent decides to lay upon them a task.
“I need you to find someone for me,” he says, his chin resting atop clasped hands. There is no jest, nor leniency, in his stare.
The task itself sounded easy enough. But with only a physical description to go on, not even having gotten your name, Vincent, for the first time in his life, is anxious.
Anxious his men won’t find you, no matter how deep his connections run.
Anxious that, while he’s lived in his dream world for the last month, you’ve since disappeared. Been killed, perhaps, or exposed to some freak accident.
Vincent pains at the feeling in his centre whenever he considers this a possibility. It tears the scabbing void in his chest wide open again.
Sometimes, while he lies in bed, the thought that might have perished somehow, that his men will have misinterpreted his specific instructions not to interact with you, only report on what you’re doing, plagues him.
He knows his men are loyal – that they’ve never failed a task before now. And he clings to the hope that their winning streak won’t run dry one of these nights.
One day, sat in his office, glancing over a document he’d tried reading for the last half hour yet couldn’t because, surprise, you were distracting him, one of his men came into the room.
“We have them, Sir,” he said, the image of victory. Vincent couldn’t help but scan his suit for any sign of blood. Your blood.
To say Vincent was excited is an understatement of epic proportions.
At first, he’s just numb.
Then, a few minutes later, his chest burns and sparks with an electric passion one acquires when meeting an idol.
Vincent wishes to deploy himself immediately. But he knows this is a waiting game.
So, he remains far enough away from your life that you do not suspect a single thing is wrong.
You don’t even glance over at the guy who’s been tailing you for the last few hours.
You don’t think twice about the stranger who’s been sat in perfect view of you in the cafe for the last two weeks.
You don’t even consider that the guy you bumped into earlier is responsible for your house key going missing.
Now, with access to your inner sanctum and your daily routine burned into his mind like a holy scripture, Vincent makes his move.
He stages meetings between the two of you.
Starts ‘bumping into you’.
At first, you simply recognise him, ask him how he’s doing and what he’s doing in the area.
And, Vincent, the man with an answer for everything, finds himself doing something he never has before.
He fumbles.
Even when he imagined you in a most vivid detail, nothing compares to this moment, where what he says has consequences, where he has one shot at getting this right. Or risk your uncertain stare.
He can feel fear rising in his chest as he stutters. Only once, but enough to knock him down a few pegs in your mind’s eye. At least, that’s what he thinks.
But, he completes his task, albeit not as pristinely as he wished.
He asked you out to coffee.
And you, with a signature smile, accepted.
And now, your fate is sealed.
Vincent beats himself up over his ineptitude of speaking to you like he did in his head: suave, cool, collected.
And, given the fact that he’s never had to take accountability for anything he’s ever done, he tries to blame it on someone else.
Not you, though.
Never you.
Regardless of this minor hurdle, as Vincent sees it, he purses this…friendship with you.
He isn’t used to the concept. Not in a visceral sense, anyway.
The saying ‘It’s lonely at the top’ comes to mind when describing Vincent’s relationships.
There is always a power imbalance, no matter who he’s speaking with.
He is always above them, and they are always below him.
But that’s when they know him. Know his dynamic.
You, you have absolutely no idea who he is, or what he’s capable of.
To you, he’s just Vincent, the owner of a successful manufacturing business.
No, Vincent couldn’t quite ditch the theatrics. He still needed an out to impress you – to have a valid excuse as to how he owns so many nice cars, how he never wears the same designer suit twice.
He doesn’t tone it down with the suits, by the way.
He’s too enthralled by the fascinated look you wear when you’re taking in the patterns, the chains, the craftsmanship.
Which, to his surprise, makes his face warm.
People have only ever looked at the label of his outfit, never the ensemble itself.
That’s just another of the ways you make him feel seen.
You tell him so much of yourself, yet not enough to break your mystique.
Vincent knows more about you than you think, and he uses this to create another version of himself – one which likes the same records as you (though, he unironically does enjoy them. But, he knows he likely wouldn’t unless you listened to them, too), has the same preferences for how you fold your clothes, whether you should brush your teeth before or after breakfast.
And Vincent devours every detail you grant him like a meal, saving them, storing them, testing them out in his newest daydreams when he gets home, his heart thrumming and his breathing short as an unfamiliar feeling of wholeness and anxiety overtakes him.
And yet, there is little he can offer in return.
Nothing that isn’t a lie, anyway.
He keeps you as far away from his work as possible, hence he meets you in such public spaces.
His men are always stationed nearby, disguised as civilians. Should the need for bloodshed ever arise.
Eventually, your weekly coffee meet-ups evolve into something else.
Vincent, after asking one of his men (under strict confidentiality) ”What do you do when you…like-like someone…?” starts taking you to restaurants.
He tries not to scare you off with anything too fancy, but he can’t help but feel part of himself die whenever he thinks about how dull the food here in this 5-star restaurant is compared to his usual dining preferences.
But you’re happy, thanking him for the meal with a gratitude that isn’t borne from a life-or-death scenario.
You’re not paying for these dates, by the way. Vincent won’t let you.
“I brought you here; I’m paying.”
He also has a tendency to go overboard with the gifts.
You tell him your watch is broken ? Here are five designer timepieces imported from a selective brand whose clientele is vetted and chosen by the CEO himself.
Of course, you can try to refuse these gifts – tell Vincent that you “Can’t possibly take them from you; it’s too much !”
But he plays the guilt card well.
“No, I insist,” he says, pushing them into your hands. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
If you actively wear or use anything he buys you, he’ll be overjoyed. Prideful.
You’re wearing something he got for you. That basically means you’re saying you belong to him.
Of course, he does get a little carried away with his…delusions. But he means well !
He’s just territorial.
Vincent can be a gentleman when he wants to be.
And can also be a vicious creature when he doesn’t.
He only presents one of these sides to you.
The other is reserved for his more…private affairs.
When he started feeling more intensely about you, his mind wandered to some rather unsavoury places – places that, usually, VIncent would walk through without batting an eye.
But now that he, dare he say...liked you…he felt as if he’d been drenched in cold water whenever he imagined you doing anything risqué.
So, with the steadily growing number of these thoughts, these images of you, piercing his mind, he decides to take matters into his own hands.
He beds people who look like you.
The two of you aren’t dating yet; haven’t even held hands (though Vincent agonises over finding the right opportunity to do so).
But he still feels wrong. Like he’s cheating on you.
His sanity tries to prevent him from thinking like this, tries to keep itself intact by urging Vincent to pursue another mindless conquest.
Your name does slip out between his panting, though.
Much to the chagrin of whoever’s beneath him right now.
He wonders what you’d look like, what you’d feel like in this same position. What your preferences are.
There’s only one way to find out.
He tries turning up the boyfriend factor after he decides now’s the time to pursue you. Properly.
He sits a little closer to you whenever you invite him over for movie nights, holds you for just a little longer whenever you engage in your traditional parting hug.
And he can’t help but think about how much he wants to stay with you like this forever.
And permanence is a rare commodity for people in his line of work. No matter how many bodyguards he has, or how skilled he is.
Nothing is certain.
Which is why, one evening, lying awake in bed, he decides to act.
He knows it’s a risky manoeuvre, but he can’t deny how careless he’s been with you these last few months.
Not that you’d know, but his men have intercepted five people who’ve tried to kill you, take you – or worse.
All just to get to him.
He can’t leave you in the wide open world like this. He can’t let you be at risk. Not because of him.
So, that night, his heart in his mouth as he commands his men to “Find (Y/N). Bring them to me.” Vincent awaits your arrival.
And, eventually, he hears you. Clamouring in the halls outside his office, screaming and fighting. Resisting.
Vincent can’t help but crack a smile, knowing how defiant you are – how stubborn you can be in your method.
As the heavy footsteps of his men come to a stop outside his door, your screeching is blunted only by the thick wood.
And, doors open, here you are, shoved into the room.
Your captor revealed.
You look at him with what you could construed as almost-neutrality, your bewilderment a damper to your anger, your fear.
“Vincent,” you say, breathless. You take a staggering step towards him. His men take a step towards you, reaching for weapons concealed by their coats.
Vincent raises a hand, and they retract.
He looks at you.
His eyes are filled with nothing less than adulation, misplaced happiness in a situation you view as dire.
“Sit,” he tells you, casting a glance to the seat before his desk.
With little else you can do, you obey.
And your world begins to unravel.
Vincent, in the lamest, most gentle of terms, explains that he is “Not who you thought I was,” – that he does “More for a living than make vases and luxury dishware.”
“I,” he says, watching your eyes carefully, glassy and holding no less potential for terror. “Am the Marquis.”
Vincent stands, and when he sees you flinch, something in him withers. Hurts.
He shoves it aside.
“I am responsible for making sure that the right outcome is brought to the right people.”
His hands behind his back, pacing the length of your field of sight, he swallows.
You’re judging him now. In a way you never had, you’re judging him.
His desire to display how grandiose his lifestyle is doesn’t seem so forthcoming anymore, hiding, shy.
This is more difficult than he anticipated.
“What does that mean ?” you say, voice tight and quiet.
Vincent’s fist clenches. He doesn’t want you like this. You should be happy he’s rescued you ! Albeit from threats you didn’t know pertained to you, but still !
“I’m…” he starts. His gaze wanders to his men, who, with perfect understanding, leave.
You almost don’t want them to go.
“I’m a reaper, of sorts,” he says. He draws closer, taking a step in your direction. You bite back the urge to flee.
“A face to a cause.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, instead watching you with what you think is scrutiny (but couldn’t be further from it), you ask, throat dry, hoarse from your screaming. Crying.
“What cause ?”
Vincent bites the inside of his lip. And, for the first time, he can feel himself cracking under your gaze.
You’re scared. He knows you are. He just wished he didn’t have to see it painted so blatantly on your features, downturned with grief should everything end on this night.
Where was your smile ? Your crinkled eyes, your sonorous laugh, your upturned lips ?
“I fix problems,” he says. There’s no way he can put his occupation lightly. “I used to do it with knives. Guns, a pencil, perhaps – whatever was at my disposal.”
He’s closer now, approaching. His arms are at his sides. And he stands before you.
You don’t want to look up. You want to look – be – anywhere but here.
But Vincent doesn’t let you.
“But now,” he says, and he gets to one knee. His hands trap you, on either of the arm rests of the chair. Yet he does not possess the face of one who is a captor, instead a mask of total capitulation to a feeling he couldn’t even begin to understand before you showed him.
“I do it with diplomacy. With people who are much better suited to that life than I.”
His voice is soft, quieter than before. There is a hint of a smile at his lips, pulling the corners, beginning the total eclipse of his eyes from full to crescent. An offset to the anxiety bubbling in his centre.
Your hands in your lap, he takes them in his, slowly, gently, fingers resting atop yours.
And he squeezes them.
Holds them. Just as he’d always wanted to.
“Why–” you swallow a sob, turn your head so you don’t let him see your face scrunch into the epitome of fright. “Why am I here…?”
Vincent’s lips part. His hand slips up to your jaw, urges you to look at him.
He’s forbearing. A butterfly.
Nothing like how his men handled you.
That in itself could almost convince you that he’s not such a bad guy. Even after all he’s told you.
“Because–” your face in his hand, he looks up into your eyes. Barely contained tears fill them.
“Because you’ll be safe with me,” he promises. There’s an unencumbered optimism in his eyes. A dangerous one at that.
“Because I can’t trust that my men can protect you when you’re so far away – alone – in the city.”
“What do you mean, Vincent ?!”
You don’t mean to snap. But since you’d just been kidnapped and the truth behind the matter is no clearer to you, you can’t help it.
Vincent almost seems to flinch, his eyes narrowing just for a second. He returns to you with his puppy stare.
“There are people out there who know who I am. What I do.”
He squeezes your hand again, his other still wrapped about your jaw.
“The problem now is that they know you, too.”
He swallows thickly, looking down for a split of a second. Guilt.
“And it’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve just left you alone, let you live your life…but I can’t undo that now.”
He laces his fingers between yours. And you’re too frazzled to refuse.
“What I can do, what I will do–” his hand comes to the point of your chin, holds it gently between his fingers like glass.
His gaze falls to your lips, and you try to ignore it.
“Is keep you safe. Here. With me.”
You’d have laughed if you didn’t believe everything he’d just said.
It all just made sense to you.
The lavish gifts, the people watching you that you hadn’t dared notice before because you’re just being paranoid. The hard glares Vincent would grant to all that passed you by in the rooms of higher society.
And now, everything shatters. You cry.
“Oh, non, mon Cher, don’t cry–” Vincent moves to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but you pull away. Retract from his kindness.
"You're insane–" you’re breathless, gasping between sobs
"Not insane.” VIncent tells you. He stands so he’s perfectly level with you, his eyes piercing yours. And, just as he had many times before in your presence, he smiles. Genuine and heartfelt. Then, a statement. A declaration.
“Just… in love.”
#vincent de gramont#john wick#john wick 4#john wick chapter 4#bill skarsgard x reader#marquis de gramont x reader#marquis de gramont#bill skarsgard#yandere headcanons#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
marquis de gramont x reader: with you, i serve. with you, i fall down. | a seal of fate
plot: the one where the marquis takes you for himself.
warnings: hella down bad marquis, some flulff, break in, violation of privacy, slightly dubious content
masterlist
he can hear the shower running through the floor and the occasional humming from a tune coming from the bathroom.
the living room is dark, save for a vintage lamp illuminated beside the couch. it looked too rusty and drab to basically function but it brought a rustic and classy feel to the room. although, the light withered occasionally.
someone is staring at him. more like something, something feline. it’s been tracing his movements the moment he entered the humble abode. vertical pupils squinting from the unidentified person that has entered his castle, a ball of fur that was mounted beside the lamp on the side table.
it’s body was sprawled on the table but it wasn’t relaxed. it was tense, as if playing camouflage to its prey. staying still as the prey walks past him and when it does he pounces on them for the kill.
he is no prey. more like the owner, it depends on how sentimental this ball of fur is to you. he hears the shower turn off, it catches his attention and waits to hear a door close and another to open along your soft footsteps trudging through the apartment. you call out for your feline pet, the cat makes no sound to meow back to you. focused on him, if he made any sudden movement to attack him. you sigh then ignore the absence of communication and he guesses that you make a beeline for your bedroom.
he waits a few minutes before getting on his feet. several minutes pass and he stands up and walks towards the cat beside the lamp. the cat tenses along with its back legs fidgety for an attack he slowly halts and reaches for it with his hand.
the cat hisses bravely and swiftly raises its paw to attack the hand attempting to touch him with his sharp claws. it makes vincent hiss in pain and retract his hand, he checks his palm for blood. he realizes no blood was drawn and that relieves him. he’s definitely getting this little shit replaced when you move in with him. he’ll get you a sweeter one, a ragdoll or persian just not this demonspawn from hell.
he makes his way towards the bedroom door, as he passes by he can see some trinkets lying on the kitchen and tabletops. a few cooking books and old history textbooks stacked on the floor. this reminds him that he needs to buy you a few books to keep you entertained in the manor.
as he faces the front door he stealthily turns the knob of the door and enters, it was time.
you brushed the tedious knots in your hair with a comb in difficulty, you forgot to brush your hair before showering again. you searched for your hair brush on your vanity but to no avail. you turn towards your bed and gasp in surprise.
he was here, the marquis was here. in your bedroom.
his face remains the same, still and calm as the sea. but you knew better, this was only the calm before the storm. deep inside him, a storm was brewing but he kept his composure to seal away what he truly felt and right now you, the sailor needs to run away from the storm.
you slowly eyed him from top to bottom, as usual his hand stayed in his pockets. a string of gold strewn across his pocket. the chain shines from the luminescence it received from your bedside lamp. he was dressed impeccably, something you often admired. he’d often used his wardrobe as a form of intimidation to his enemies when speaking to them and it often worked. you pray that it doesn’t falter you, that he doesn’t falter you. maybe he’ll leave when you show a strong front to him.
he gazes upon your face like he was taking in a treasure presenting itself to the sight of his eyes. you were still frozen on your spot after you gasped in surprise from seeing him.
“good evening, cherie.” he breaks the silence with the sweet endearment.
you hesitantly greet out a reply to him, you fail to build a strong front and your voice visibly wavers from fear, “evening,boss.”
he begins to walk, it takes all the power in you not to back away from him. you try to appear composed and resilient. a farce attempt to show that you aren’t scared of him, but you know you are and so does he.
thankfully, he doesn’t make his way towards you. he saunters towards the edge of your bed and sits down. his eyes wander around your room, taking in the personal touches you made to the room. gradually turning his head to face you once again.
“how are you?” he politely asks.
“i’m fine. nothing bad happened to me.” you answer.
this again. what’s his game? it was never just simple conversation with your boss, there was always a point he wanted to come across. a lesson to be learned. right now, it wasn’t looking good for you. you need to take control of this conversation.
“that’s good. the doctor commented a few days ag-“ he speaks to you again but got interrupted.
“sir, with all respect. what do you want? why are you here?” you whisper to him. any attempt to gain the upper hand with him is futile, he always gets his licks back. silence follows the conversation before he speaks up again.
“you know what i want.” he sternly retorts.
“i don’t know what you’re here for. much less what you want.” you fire back, strength is solidifying itself inside you.
“is that so? surely you do.” he says mockingly, still playing a game.
“i don’t.” you say firmly this time.
“fine.” he scoffs to your face before reaching into his pocket, you flinch afraid he might’ve brought a weapon of some sort, he notices this and his hand remains inside. his eyes all on your frame and yours on his hand inside of his pocket.
you should really hope you’re not fucked.
“perhaps this will jog your memory.” he continues, “three days ago, you sent me this message. subject: resignation letter. to the marquis de gramont, i'm writing to let you know that, as of the seventeenth day in august of this year, i'm leaving from my employment as the marquis de gramont's personal assistant. due to schedule issues and unanticipated consequences encountered while working, i am leaving my position. i appreciate the chance to work with you over the past two years. sincerely-.” he recites the entire letter of resignation to you with a false professional tone to patronize you..
“i precisely know what i wrote there.” you look away from him annoyed as you cut him off once again.
“then you precisely know why i’m here.” he argues back. “i’m glad we’re finally getting on the same page, mon coeur.”
no we aren’t, i don’t want you here. i want you out of my house and i don’t want to see you ever again. how come you never ask what i want? you want to scream at him but your silence continues.
“look at me.” he pressed.
you stay quiet and keep your gaze away from him.
“you will not leave.” he finally claims. finally this makes your head snap back at him and makes you scoff loudly, the marquis frowns from your reaction although you did give him what he wanted.
“you can’t do this.” you respond weakly, your breath hitching in your throat.
“i can. i actually can.” he states certainly.
“why’s that? because you said so?” you challenge him. defying him is never a good idea, you know this. you know better and you should do better, but you’re too petty and exhausted. you want him out as soon as possible even if that means being blunt to him.
“tell me the truth. why do you want to leave?” he changes the subject and presses once again.
“i already told you. it’s in the goddamn letter.” you were getting tired of repeating the same words.
“i don’t believe you.” he discloses firmly.
“don’t act so foolish and dense-“ you retort in exasperation.
“are you calling me a fool?” he immediately questions. oof i think you hit his pride in that one.
“i’m asking you not to be one. boss, i literally got shot, i almost died. this may be something you can brush off easily but i can’t. you don’t have to worry about me spreading your secrets because i literally signed an nda and i have no intention of getting back in that kind of work! i’m gonna ask you once again, please leave.” you beg him, hoping he hadn’t missed the point of what you were trying to say.
you already knew that this job was already insane. not only do you cater the whims of an insanely rich man whose money seems to have no end but the danger and fear it came along with had to be taken into measure. not to mention, you didn’t exactly feel like living when you worked for him. how many opportunities for happiness had you turned away because that meant disregarding the marquis’ orders and facing his wrath if you chose to have that? god, you hadn’t even been home in a long time. you deserve this, he should at least have the courtesy to understand that.
“you don’t have to be scared anymore, cherie. i’m here.” he interrupts your thoughts as he softly affirms to you.
you don’t want that. you want nothing to do with him, sooner or later you’ll get killed and it’s likely going to be because of him. you know that he’s regretful and shameful of what happened to you but keeping you by his side isn’t going to change that, people die, more fact than speculation and by mere calculation you could tell it’ll happen sooner than later. after all, the marquis was still human. deep down, he’s still vincent and if you were to stay with him for protection that choice should be coming from you, not from him.
his determination to keep you locked away in his manor did nothing but frighten you to death. it had been so unexpected, not to mention you haven’t processed that fully along the fact you almost died.
you sigh loudly from resignation, the marquis keeps you in his line of sight, probably wondering what was going inside your head.
‘i can’t,” you finally utter out, “what can’t you understand? i’m scared…so fucking scared and you keep waltzing into my life like your entitled to it which just scares me more. i needed time to think, to process..all of this.” you gesture around you, the marquis stays silent listening to your words with no visible reaction on his face.
“i finally thought all of this through, i want to stay alive. staying alive means quitting, i-i have so much to live for, my family needs me and i need them. i don’t need you to look out for me, i don’t need you for this. i can help myself.” you refrain to him, letting the words sink to him.
“i’ve done so much for you. i’ve kept and guarded your secrets, everything i’ve ever heard while i worked never escaped my mouth and never entered ears that weren’t meant to hear them. i’ve protected your power, i upheld every system and order you gave me, so for god’s sake. haven’t i done enough for you? what else haven’t i gave to you?” you spill out to him, he deserves to know this, how you carried his burden with you everywhere without him knowing. the burdens you carried that he couldn’t be bothered to touch, every order of assassination, every fearful attempt of getting killed and his mercurial violence.
he needs to know that you can’t take it anymore. there is so much that you could take, let him find another. another that might be more tolerable of how he runs his system, more understanding of his work. someone who doesn’t flinch at the mention of drawing the blood of his enemies. someone that’ll encourage his determination for the never ending pain and ruthlessness.
you can’t be that someone, not anymore.
working for you is pure torture, you want to say but as usual you hold it back from him.
the marquis stays quiet. you don’t see his face twist in displeasure or anger..which is good but a quiet marquis wasn’t any better. he suddenly jolts onto his feet, scoffing from what you just said as he paced on your bedroom with his head infrequently looking at you. he was getting heated from what you said.
he shakes his head with his hands on his hips before finally speaking, stopping in his tracks, “that’s it?”
you try to speak before he cuts you off.
“that’s it, you’re simply leaving me because you’re scared?” he angrily questions you.
“please, you have to understand.” you try to plead once more.
“cherie, i can protect you. i saved you the same way you saved me. i am owed something.” he reassures you, pieces of his anger slightly heard from his tone.
“i was in the way! i didn’t-“ you try to clear it with him.
“clearly, your memory isn’t serving you well, more reason to keep you safe with me which is for the best.” he firmly asserts.
“i’m not going back there!” you yell at him, “just because i took a bullet for you doesn’t mean you get to dictate how i live my life, at the end of the day, you don’t get to control me, i don’t exist for you and most importantly just because i almost died because of you doesn’t mean i owe anything to you.” you lament at him, exhaustion and animosity getting the best of you as the marquis marches towards you, as you finish, slightly out of breath from your rant. he stands still before you. you hope that your words might put some sense in him.
he stares at you and you look back at him, returning his gaze. you gulp, alarmed that maybe you’d gone too far and perhaps…perhaps you should’ve done this more softly or professionally. you should’ve conjured a foolproof plan when confronting him about this, you should’ve expected he wouldn’t let go without a fight however, it’s not like you had a choice with him breaking into your apartment.
he slowly strides towards you, step by step. you take a deep breath in despair as he leisurely closes on you while you feel your back hit the wall.
“you are going back there. it is where you belong, you care for me. don’t even try denying it, cherie. i saw, i saw the way you looked at me that night, you’re afraid that’s all. you’re right,” he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent then continues, ”i don’t control you but you do that to me, you control me, you control every ounce of thought that occupies my mind. most of the time, it’s all my head does. you might not exist for me but i exist for you, you make living in this cruel world brighter and sweeter than before but this is where you’re wrong. you do owe me something, you owe me your life and i can make it lovelier if you just let me.” he speaks in a hushed tone as he looks through your eyes. you can feel something grabbing your arms, you glance and see that he’s taken hold of your limbs. rubbing circles around them, attempting to soothe you.
the pattern of his strokes reminds you of that night at the plaza.
he only deters you even more.
“i owe you nothing.” you whisper, your voice growing weaker by every second.
“you owe me something.” he repeats once again.
“i don’t.” you mutter looking into his eyes.
“that’s where you are wrong, you do.” he emphasizes to you.
“then we’re even. i-i saved you too and you saved me.” you quietly mumble to him.
he raises a brow in your response and lowers himself to your ear. the hairs in your body rise and you can feel goosebumps crowd your skin.
“i don’t want even…i want you.” he confesses.
you frantically sigh in distress, attempting to wrench yourself out of his grip, something you should’ve done earlier, but it’s too late. he abandons the hold he has on your right arm and clasps it to your neck to bring you closer to him and he kisses you.
you squealed in shock but it’s devoured when he takes your lips to his. you can feel your back press to the wall even harder trying to evade his touch, his kiss, but the marquis presses himself to you. his hands had abandoned your neck and arm, opting to snake around your waist as he pulled you closer to his warmth.
the marquis is kissing you.
he kissed you like a devoured man. as if he’d been deprived of something sweet for years and he finally received what he’d always wanted. he wouldn’t let his grip on you soften, afraid that you might abandon him once again, which you did before. he softly moans into the kiss, content and happy with what was happening.
“don’t leave.” he pulls away to whisper into you. “don’t leave me.”
you whimper as you feel his hands exploring your body, one of his palms tugging at the buttons of your satin white pajama shirt, wanting to feel more and more of the warmth beneath the clothes.
“i want you to promise me.” he mumbles to you, your foreheads pressing together, as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. you make no sound of promises and affirmation to him. he stays quiet expecting your words as he stares into the depths of your eyes and speaks up once again.
“no matter, you’ll be begging for me soon enough.” he sighs from your lack of communication then delves back into the warm haven he has found earlier.
seldomly, he’d pull himself back to bite your bottom lip. you’d wince from the ache coming for your mouth, slightly parting and he’d take that opportunity to slip inside your mouth. his hands continued to explore through your body, randomly squeezing a part of you to force a moan from you, then return to making out with you. you can feel him smile against you whenever he did. you felt bitter because this was looking victorious for him.
“please…stop.” you sigh in pleasure when he starts kissing and biting your neck.
“do you, cherie? i don’t think you do, not when you’re making all these pretty sounds for me.” he whispers against your neck then continues his attack on your skin.
“s-sir, stop..stop that.” you plead once again.
“vincent.” he stops to correct you.
“what?” you ask confused.
“none of that courtesies from now on. you’ll call me vincent. do you understand?” he softly reminds you, he’d halted his movements of affection, his forehead was pressed against yours again as his eyes looked at you with the utmost devotion known to man.
you stay silent as he smiles at you, that stuns you even more. you’ve never seen him smile from something pleasant. his eyes shimmered with love and desire like the stars when you got shot. your lips were wet and plump from the sudden assault the marquis had given them and your pajama shirt had several buttons undone but the marquis by comparison almost looked the same except for the disheveled clothes.
finally, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, the seal to your fate awaiting his words.
“as much as i want to continue this right now, we must usher home. we wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, do we mon amour? cold food never tastes as good when it is warm.”
you stay quiet, slightly mind blown from the make out session your ex-boss just gave you. your head feels fuzzy and unclear, christ your legs feel like giving out if the marquis hadn’t been holding you up against the wall.
he leans back down into your collarbone and begins to leave a trail of kisses throughout the skin, you whimper as he bites into some areas of the skin, eliciting a groan from him. you begin to feel his head go lower and lower, entering the region of skin where your unbuttoned shirt had failed to cover, you look down at him hesitantly and you see him looking up at you with affection.
suddenly, he grabs at your hips then raises himself up along with you. hoisting you on him, you hastily grip his shoulders as he lifts you, afraid to fall onto the floor of your bedroom.
“i changed my mind, perhaps it can wait. what do you think mon amour?” he whispers into you in the dark of the night.
you are now his love.
his to have and his to keep.
just as he is yours.
with you, he serves. with you, he falls.
you’re staying with him. not as his assistant but as his partner.
he will be your love. your heart. he will be yours.
you will be his love. his heart. his wife.
and god forbid anyone who takes you from him.
author’s note: sooo that’s part five and the last part of the marquis series! i really enjoyed writing this as it helped me explore my writing capabilities (especially in part two) even in my fever induced state. (it had me giggling in a cafe while i had a fever) thank you so much for the kind words and sweet comments yall have about the series (it has me kicking my feet pls continue). although im tempted to write a drabble of the aftermath of part five + that keith toshko fic and two requests ;)) please like and reblog and feel free to comment!
taglist: @dcgoddess @1mawh0re @davvydobrik @ilunapb @hesvoid3434
part one part two part three part four
#bill skarsgard imagine#bill skarsgard x reader#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skasgård#bill skarsgard crackship#marquis de gramont#marquis de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont#vincent de gramont x reader#fanfiction#yandere#yandere x reader#john wick#john wick x reader#keanu reeves#dubcon#fanfic#bill skarsgard icons#bill skarsgard gif#fic#john wick 4#marquis vincent de gramont
967 notes
·
View notes
Text
A danmei lover's biased and incomplete het web novel rec list
@mercipourleslivres thanks for inspiring me!
When it comes to Chinese web novels, I mainly read danmei. I tend not to care too much for OP heroine with a hero who dotes on her for no reason as she fights with 14 year olds narratives, nor inner courtyard fights. BUT!!! There are some het web novels I like and so here is my biased and incomplete rec list. Most of these don't have OP heroines, and very little to none courtyard fights.
Before I start, my favorite het web novel authors are: Gong Xinwen, Mo Shu Bai, Peng Lai Ke, and Jiu Lu Fei Xiang. I have yet to read anything bad by them.
Anyway, rec list:
1000 Miles of Bright Moonlight - one of my ultimate favorites, this would make such an epic drama! A smart as hell heroine, a hero who is a monk and a warrior (but also terminally?) ill and such a vivid world and amazing secondary characters (heroine’s brother is possibly my favorite supporting character of all time) and so much angst and happy ending. This has an amazing romance but it’s not romance-centric if it makes sense - ML doesn’t appear for a while. But once he does, it’s worth it!
Accompanying the Phoenix - the one that just got adapted into The Legend of Shen Li, this is high adventure and cottage core and funny and tragic and powerful ML being putty in the hands of capable FL and just EVERYTHING.
Apocalypse Arrival - Gong Xinwen’s novels are made just for me. Her heroines are always powerful as fuck and rescue abused MLs. In this novel, our heroine who lives in the post-apocalyptic world, wakes up right before that apocalypse happens. She forms a survival crew and also rescues ML who has miraculous blood and has been drained of it and is now hunted after the rescue for it. SO GOOD!!!
Black Moonlight Holds the BE Script - so fucked up, so good, with monster hero who learns to love and be human and heroine who learns to love and be human (but from the other side, her tower of perfection.) Much better than the drama which I did enjoy.
The Blue Whisper - the drama was so-so, but the novel is a bona fide angst masterpiece, which really delves into what it feels like to be imprisoned or to love.
Counterattack of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid - I remember starting this and loving the realistic feel and the heroine and wanting to stab the hero and @mercipourleslivres telling me to be patient. She was right, by the end I was on board with both the hero (who was abused and is rather autistic-coded) and the OTP. Anyway, heroine is a servant who was a concubine in the last life and got killed as part of a rich family’s harem intrigues. In this life, she just wants to keep her head down but her life gets derailed anyway. She gets sold away and eventually made a servant in the household of an exiled prince who takes a fancy to her and she endures it because what choice does she have? All she wanted was to serve out her term and become a small time merchant. This is quite realistic about lack of options for women, especially lower class women or upper class male attitudes (ML is never vicious or mean to FL but it does not initially occur to him to wonder if she fancies him or enjoys being his concubine or w/e.) It is a DELIGHTFUL slow burn tho as they grow to love each other and grow together and become one of the most wholesome cnovel couples out there.
Dandere General and His Lord - hi there, Gong Xinwen! God, I love this one. Heroine transmigrates from modern world into a brutal slave-holding world at war (think something like Warring States era.) Our heroine transmigrates into the body of a noblewoman who just hung herself. When she comes to, she discovers that woman’s twin brother was the ruler of a city poisoned by a rival claimant and the besieging army of said claimant is about to take the city and original occupant of the body and the rest of the family chose suicide as a way to avoid dishonor. Our heroine refuses, schemes with advisors to pass as the brother and rally the troops. Once the invaders are defeated, she keeps on the masquerade and rides off to one of the never-ending wars “she” is summoned to. Our hero couldn’t be farther from this. A slave and a son of a slave, he’s escaped a horrific, starving childhood during which he narrowly avoided being murdered or raped, and ended up in the army. When the story opens, he distinguished himself in battle and as a reward, he and a few of his fellow slave warriors are invited to a banquet, where they are given some alcohol and to be playthings of any nobles who want them. One of them does not survive this but ML is lucky - heroine feels terrible and so “claims” him for herself. Instead she just tends to his wounds and sends him back. She does not fancy him or anything, she is just a human being with a conscience. And the story goes from there.
Demon King's Repayment - another delicious Gong Xinwen tale with a powerful ML dedicated to capable FL. This one is a great fantasy plot (I keep imagining it as an animated series) and a sprawling cast of amazing secondaries (and secondary OTPs - there is, I swear, an OTP that is Dong Hua x Feng Jiu done thru GXW lens) to boot.
Doomed to Be Cannon Fodder - I hesitated to put this one on the list because by the end I was not keen on how misogynistic novel got to original female lead but it was one of my earliest novels and I loved it for 90% and it’s fucking hilarious at times. Heroine transmigrates as bit villainess into a novel, all she wants is not to die, but her new attitude of “pls stay away” catches the attention of her terrifying general husband. Honestly, imo still worth it.
Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir - my n1 novel on this list, smart and fierce and don’t really read this for romance because it does not start until really late, but ice cold heroine x ice cold hero both of equal brains and ruthlessness is everything. I went from loathing the ML to finding him fascinating to adoring him (and yet he softened around the edges only for FL, he never became “nice”) and loved FL throughout; secondaries are epic. If you read only one non-danmei web novel, make it this one.
The Emperor’s Beloved Ugly Girl - my n2 novel on this list. Our heroine is the unlucky laundry maid A’Chou. She is a di daughter of an upperclass family but her family got destroyed in one of the political upheavals of the time and A’Chou, only a small child at the time, was the only survivor and was made an enslaved laundry maid. Due to various events, at the start of the novel she is a laundry maid in a minister’s household and the minister’s beloved daughter is having a fit because she’s supposed to marry the former Crown Prince which may have been great a few years back but Crown Prince had since been deposed, tortured, imprisoned and now is living in the middle of nowhere under conditions that are too meager to be called house arrest. And he’s seriously crippled too. Understandably, the young lady doesn’t want to marry him! She’d rather kill herself and so she does. And so, a desperate plan is hatched - why don’t we pretend the laundry maid is the di daughter of the minister’s household and send her off? And so A’Chu is sent as the bride. She arrives to discover a broke, seriously injured man on the verge of death…and we go from there. This is so gorgeous and tender and slow in just the right way and like AAAAAA! Secondary OTPs (one of which is MM) are also epic.
Futu Tower - the drama (Unchained Love) was a mess but the novel is such a lovely, dark exploration of coming back to life, for the ML from his dark revenge-strewn path and for heroine from not being allowed wishes of her own. She is a tribute bride, he’s a (fake) eunuch, they are both servants who use themselves to achieve goals and find peace and happiness together.
The Grand Princess - a tale where both members of the OTP reincarnate as their younger selves after killing each other in their 50s, and get a new start, this is smart and slow and so good in portraying old souls in young bodies. Their rediscovery of not just each other but themselves and their passion for living is just AAAAAA!
Heroine Saves Gentleman - Gong Xinwen novel so we have a tough martial artist lady saving a very upper class scholar and it goes from there. If elegant gorgeous ML being saved and protected (and lovingly dommed) by awesome FL is your bag, pls come right in.
Husband Be a Gentleman - schemer meet schemer. He’s an idle prince she’s perfect daughter, in reality both are wolves out for blood. Mmmm. Very OTP gets together early and is us against the world.
I’ll Be the Male Lead’s Sister in Law - one of my all time favorite novels. Heroine is made to marry a disabled nephew of the emperor. He used to be a victorious god of war but went mad and now is basically locked away and kept as a beast. GOD I LOVE THIS NOVEL SO MUCHHHHH! So much hurt/comfort and awesome OTP and after he eventually recovers, all he wants to do is to fight and murder things and dote on wifey. MMM. He’s honestly one of my fave MLs.
I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating - if you have a Florence Nightingale complex, this is for you. Heroine wakes up as tribute bride to an almost dead dragon lord and slowly nurses him back to life as his rivals try to murder him. They are both utter adorable babies!
Let the Villain Go - another Gong Xinwen novel, this and Apocalypse Arrivals are AUs of each other. Heroine is surviving in the apocalypse, ML is the “bugbear” of the world but in reality just reacting to all abuse and torture and after she accidentally saves him, devotes himself. Fun fun fun!
Long Wind Crossing - Amazing ML and FL who grow together, clever plot, arranged marriage to love etc etc. Oh, and one point he feeds her his blood to keep her alive, what’s not to love? (Adapted into Chang Feng Du/Destined)
Lost You Forever - this is a short but delicately wistful tale of trauma and loss and love, wrapped in a high fantasy setting but so relatable despite it.
Love In Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant - so so fucked up in the best way! ML cannot live with OR without heroine. It opens on them banging in jail night before her execution (ordered by him) with corpses of men he killed for trying to defile her cooling nearby. If you want healthy relationships with respectful boundaries, gentle and considerate male leads who are modern men in period clothes, OP heroines who have everyone help them and are OP to the max, fluff and wholesomeness, that is about the worst book for you.If you want complexity, dysfunction, darkness, pain and an absolutely lyrical even if fucked up story, come right IN!!!!I am so fucking in love with the melancholy heroine, with ruthless psycho hero and the endless regret and devotion and paaaaain!
The Marquis Is Innocent - our heroine is a beautiful woman married to a warlord who hates her family. (Yes, this was gonna be The Prisoner of Beauty until SZE tax scandal.) Except she's a transmigrator from the future who knows how it ended last time around and has no interest to end up this tragically. This is in my top 5 - FL is smart but believably so (and doesn't have super battle powers) and ML is a believable period warlord. The way their relationship develops so gradually and the way his character changes so gradually as well (and the way they slowly fall in love, her slower than him) is just amazing. It is such a smart, nuanced, gorgeous slow burn. With some gonzo sex scenes :P
Mulberry Song - you like tragic endings? Come right IN! This is short and heartbreaking and wistful and very what-if.
Nightfall (Ever Night) - so long but also so smart and unusual and bloody and tho it’s not primarily a romance, you will never see another ML who loves his FL as much as Ning Que does his Sang Sang.
Offering Salted Fish to Master - in some ways, this novel is a mess, but I am recommending it because this is a rare example of "nope he's 100% a villain and murderdude and odd, but he does love the heroine" that the author commits to.
Pihanjin - yet another awesome PLK novel, this is once again, like with Marquis, a ruthless man and a beautiful woman getting a second chance on a second go-around. FL is a lot more wounded this time around though. If you LOVE watching ML grovel and slowly, gradually win FL over, this one is for you.
Princess Agents - a dark tale with an incredibly competent and militarily powerful/ruthless heroine and two terrifying men who love her (but neither is as terrifying as she is.) There is an OTP switch halfway through that shockingly makes sense and it's just SO SO GOOOOOOOD
Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage - this is probably the one “typical” novel on this list, heroine is reborn as her youngest self and gets revenge on those who wronged her last time around. It is really really well-written and heroine is competent, hero is doting and powerful etc. It’s not a trope I tend to love but I do when it’s done THIS well.
Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet: Regent Prince is Too Fierce: Borgias cnovel style! Our heroine was empress in last life and put her husband on the throne tho he did not love her. However, he had her executed and had his half-brother carry out the orders and heroine died horrifically. She opens her eyes and she’s a little girl again. The OTP this time around is heroine and half-brother executioner. Why do I love it? Heroine is smart and tough but also this is a rare rebirth novel where heroine does NOT decide to seek revenge for past life wrongs because they haven’t happened yet! In fact, she sees ML abused and stands up for him because he’s a kid and no kid should be mistreated and this go around he hasn’t done anything wrong. She also gets and likes her former life husband. Anyway, this is fakecest galore because she’s supposed to be their half-sister and while she knows (from past life) she is not, they do not and fall for her anyway. ML is especially gonzo, at one point carving chunks of his flesh to save her. He’s feral and unhinged and she’s the one person he worships because she protected him and like - it’s all awesome. (I love secondary ML too.)
Reborn to Love Lord Qiansui - yes, this is a eunuch novel! If you like gender tropes reversals, this one is for you. Heroine is a tough martial artist, hero is a smart as hell and powerful eunuch. A real eunuch. Heroine finds out she owes him her life and decides to protect him. This is a total delight and an awesome love story between two really scarred people. And yes, there is sex - heroine literally reads manuals on pegging :P
Return of the Swallow - so freaking long! But really good. Heroine is neither transmigrator nor reincarnator, just a smart period woman. She is a lost family daughter taken back in. Her father is a minister in a dying empire (father-daughter relationship is one of the best things in this novel), her OTP is enemy general, and the smartness and the awesomeness of this all knows no bounds.
Seven Unfortunate Lifetimes - probably the wackiest JLFX novel I read, this is quite different from Love You Seven Times drama that was adapted from it. Our deity protagonists go through a bunch of lives figuring out they fancy each other. It's light like a souffle but just as delicious.
To Be a Virtuous Wife - some people prefer 8 treasures trousseau but I never warmed up to that one. This one is so good, with smart people (who actually enjoy sex, a ratity) and a perfect mix of plot and romance.
Transmigrator Meets Reincarnator - my very first web novel. A lot lighter than a lot of the ones on this list but a total delight. Heroine transmigrates into a novel as the heroine; she has no interest in drama or chasing true love, she just wants to live a nice life with her nice husband. Too bad for her, her husband has reincarnated into his younger self and remembers how she betrayed him, so is not interested. This one is funny and light and romance doesn’t start till late on but a total delight!
Wishing You Eternal Happiness - this is tied with Dreamer as my favorite het web novel ever though it couldn’t be more different from Dreamer, with its hard-edged and hard-souled protagonists ruthlessly cleaving their way to the world and, eventually, each other, its smart cynical air. Except in one thing - the world of Wishing is just as bloody and dark. Its two protagonists are gentle, deeply wounded souls who may find salvation in each other but even something as basic as safety almost seems out of reach.
Jliafu, our heroine, is neither a modern-day transmigrator, nor some exotic princess or demoness. She is very much a period woman of her time, from a weathy merchant clan, whose beauty is her curse. You can tell the novel’s tone from that utterly bleak opening chapter where she, a favorite concubine of a capricious dying emperor, is ordered to be buried alive with him and is not even given the “grace” of white silk but slowly suffocates in the coffin, scrabbling at the lid. There is no grand threats of vengeance on her part, not dramatic opera events. Just despair and death. The whole introductory chapter is haunted by emotional ghosts - the empress’ unrequited love for the monster on the imperial bed (turning into desire for Jiafu’s suffering after he dies), the emperor slowly dying in his prime after waging too many wars, and his fear of being haunted by Pei Youan, a brilliant if sickly minister who died of illness long ago on one of imperial campaigns. There is no triumph for anyone, only loss.
When she wakes up as still a young woman, all she wants is to escape the same fate. There are no plans for power or revenge, only a desire for survival. And so she latches on asking for help from Pei Youan, the only man in her past go-around who showed any consideration and desire and ability to protect her, though he barely knew her. Pei Youan is probably my favorite het web novel ML. Despite his brains and ability, he drifts through life. In modern terms, he clearly has depression. One of the biggest, best joys of the novel is watching these two very good, very quiet, very wounded people discover happiness and love with each other. I sort of want to cry just thinking about it, tbh.
The Yandere Came During the Night - a bit of fluff that’s oddly delightful. Heroine is reborn as a (fake) sister of ML, she hurts her legs saving him and the “siblings” form a bond that ends up in fakecest delight. They are both smart and efficient and he becomes a sexy marquis etc.
#cnovel#rec list#the yandere came during the night#accompanying the phoenix#wishing you eternal happiness#to be a virtuous wife#transmigrator meets reincarnator#seven unfortunate lifetimes#i'll be the male lead's sister in law#return of the swallow#husband be a gentleman#apocalypse arrival#counterattack of the cannon fodder chambermaid#Reborn to Love Lord Qiansui#Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet: Regent Prince is Too Fierce#princess agents#rebirth of the malicious empress of military lineage#pihanjin#offering salted fish to master#the grand princess#mulberry song#nightfall#ever night#the marquis is innocent#long wind crossing#lost you forever#Love In Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant#let the villain go#I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating#futu tower
173 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyo! Love your recent post on the marquis de gramont. Could you do a one shot where the reader manages to escape yandere marquis and manages to hide in another country for a few months before the marquis confronts them in a motel they were hiding in
No Escape
Pairing: Yandere!Vincent De Gramont x Fem!Reader
TW: General Yandere Behavior, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Imprisonment, Mentions of Codependency, Controlling Vincent, Panic Attack, Cursing, Arguing, Forced Kissing (At first), Happy Ending. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Word Count: 1.5k
It took you months to earn his trust, which he scarcely showcased to anyone. The months you pretended you were finally falling in love with him, with lovely words and tender affections that gradually lowered his guard with each passing day.
There were privileges that came with trust, which you soaked up like a sponge. He eventually permitted you to roam around the mansion without him or a bodyguard, which led to him permitting you to spend time outside within the gates. Finally, you were allowed to sleep in your room without someone monitoring your door during the night.
However, you ultimately reached a breaking point when you recognized one day that those affectionate words and acts had transformed into something more…sincere. You'd lay awake in your room, your mind racing at the prospect of succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome.
Your altered phone, gifted by Vincent, lay in pieces on the bedroom floor when you made your escape. You crept out under the beauty of the moonlight, and your efforts during the day allowed you to memorize Vincent's men's routine patrols. You wore only the clothing on your back and a little satchel containing your monthly allowance, which Vincent would give you as a reward for your good behavior. The hardest thing was climbing over the fence, but you made it out with only minor cuts. Despite the joy of finally experiencing independence, you couldn't shake the sadness in your heart. You couldn't help but think you were doing something wrong.
'It isn't love; it isn't love.' Throughout your entire voyage to Canada, you would repeat those words in your head like a broken record. When the landlord handed you the keys to your flat, you couldn't help but feel awful. When you received your new cell phone a week later, you resisted the urge to call him.
You missed him terribly and despised yourself for it.
A month has gone by, and you weren't any better off than you were a few weeks before. You did, however, have a job interview coming up in the next month, and you were pleased that you were making progress toward regaining independence. You even purchased a new cell phone for amusement purposes.
Vincent had certain expectations for you as his lover while you were imprisoned. He wanted you to be entirely reliant on him, letting him make decisions for you and requiring his permission to do everything or walk outdoors. He promised to take care of you, to make you want for nothing, and to give you the wedding of your dreams. However, beneath the surface, you became less and less of yourself.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you couldn't help but wonder if you would have been happier at ho-Vincent's mansion. Your eyes threatened to shed tears as you glanced at the screen of your phone.
Vincent's number was illuminated in the darkness of your room, casting a chilling glow across your face. The call button begged you to merely press it in order to make amends.
You tapped the button and placed the phone to your ear with a nervous exhale. As the phone continued to ring, your eyes were wide and stared into space. As you waited for him to pick up, your heart was racing in your chest, and you nervously chewed your nail.
'He'll be mad...'
The thought occurred to you, and you immediately regretted making the phone call. You were aware that Vincent had a temper, and while he never took it out on you, you weren't immune to his stern lectures when you got in trouble, or how he destroyed his possessions in front of you. Even his patience with you can waver, and you weren't planning on finding out.
When the person on the other end of the line picked up the phone, you hurriedly hung up, unable to handle the sound of his voice. You tried taking a few deep breaths, but your heart refused to stop pounding rapidly as you stared down at the phone.
Within the first five seconds, your phone rang, and you felt your heart was about to stop. When Vincent's number came across your screen again, you screamed and threw the cellphone against the wall. Your phone was scattered in pieces on the carpet, similar to the altered phone you left at the mansion. You prayed to whatever higher power that the call wasn't long enough for Vincent to track it down.
"Fuck!" You exclaimed, rising from your bed and walking about your room, your hands grasping the sides of your head, attempting to stabilize yourself. "Fuck, fuck!"
You couldn't sleep that night.
You were strolling to your apartment, finally entering the elevator with a spring in your step. A month had gone by with no occurrences, and your concern was fading, with your confidence progressively taking its place.
The job interview went well, and you were hired at the local supermarket in the little town where you resided. It was extremely discreet, and you preferred it that way. Anything too extravagant would have drawn Vincent's attention, which was the last thing you needed.
When the doors reopened, you proceeded to head towards your apartment door, fishing out your keys from your satchel. Sorting through your keys, you unlocked the door and walked into the dark apartment, shutting the door behind you. You walked over to the wall, flicking on the lights.
The next thing you heard caused a chill to run down your spine.
"Did you enjoy your interview, chérie?" A familiar voice spoke, prompting you to press your back against the wall in panic.
Vincent stood in front of the window, his back to you, watching the beauty beyond the glass. His hands were in his pants pockets, and his posture was rigid.
"V-Vincent I-" You stuttered but came to a pause when Vincent turned to face you.
His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his big lips formed a stiff line. He was clearly furious with you, but he tried to remain calm.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" He demanded, taking a few steps closer to you. His stature was imposing, towering well over six feet tall, and you hoped he'd keep his distance.
You could only stay silent; your eyes were locked on him.
"Do you?" He asked once more, his tone becoming darker.
"I-I'm sorry, Vincent, I just-" Your mind was blank, unable to generate a suitable explanation. Your heart was attempting to burst from your chest, and your breathing was growing shaky.
How can you explain your mixed feelings to your kidnapper?
Vincent's patience was clearly wearing thin as he strode towards you, seizing your upper arms and dragging you close. He disregarded your terrified yelps as you struggled to keep your distance. However, because you were close to the wall, Vincent quickly trapped you against it. Your faces were barely a few inches apart, and you struggled to keep the warmth from flowing into your cheeks.
"How could you do something like this? I thought we were happy together and that you finally accepted our love! Why would you run away and scare me to death?!" He yelled, shaking your body somewhat as he spoke. "Do you understand what you put me through?!"
Suddenly, there was a fire that was ignited in your heart that you'd never felt before. All those months poured through you and you didn't think before you opened your mouth.
"What I put you through, what about me?! You kidnapped me and kept me inside your stupid mansion like I was some doll to do your bidding! How dare you stand there and act like you didn't hurt me first!"
Before he could reply, you continued, "But, I fucking love you! Even after everything, I still fell for you, and I hate myself for it! So, I ran! I ran away from you-"
You were cut short as Vincent yanked you into a kiss, his body crushing you against the wall. As you struggled, his arm curled around your waist, and the other gripped your hair to prevent you from pulling away.
However, the longer the kiss persisted, the less you struggled and ultimately succumbed to your predicament. He's kissed you several times before in the past, but this kiss was different. It was the first kiss where you two were finally on the same page.
You returned his kiss, your arms wrapping around his waist. He growled slightly into the kiss, drawing away slightly and planting a gentle kiss on your brow. You leaned against his chest, tears welling up in your eyes as you understood what had transpired.
Vincent brought his lips to your ear, his fingers twirling in your hair as he murmured darkly, "You will never do this again, do you hear me?"
His words sent shivers down your spine, full of ownership, and you knew your independence was gone. You softly agreed, allowing him to bring you closer to him in an embrace that was everything but sweet.
"You'll never escape me; I'll always find you." He murmured again, planting a firm kiss against your temple. "Always, chérie."
Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked
Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @bookworm-with-coffee @leiasolo77 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bloodywickedvamp @daddy-issues-99 @kirishimasfiance @cynic-spirit
#marquis de gramont#vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont#john wick#john wick franchise#john wick series#john wick fanfiction#john wick fanfic#john wick headcanons#vincent de gramont x reader#yandere!vincent de gramont x reader#yandere vincent de gramont x reader#john wick imagines#john wick x reader#yandere!john wick x reader#john wick x g/n!reader#yandere john wick x g/n!reader#john wick x y/n#yandere john wick x y/n#john wick x you#yandere john wick x you#yandere john wick#yandere#male yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere alphabet#bill skarsgard#john wick 4#john wick chapter 4
656 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yandere love letter from Napoleon and Marquis de Lafayette to a Wife Reader pls ❤️
Napoleon Bonaparte
My beloved wife,
As I write this letter, my soul burns with an uncontrollable passion for you. From the moment I met you, my life took a turn I could never have predicted. You are the light that illuminates my days, my reason for living, and I cannot imagine a world without your presence.
Every time I look at you, my beloved, I see the beauty and grace that enchanted my heart from the first moment. Your eyes are the stars that guide my path, and your lips, the promise of an eternal love that consumes me. There is no one like you, (Y/N), and there never will be.
Every time our eyes meet, I feel consumed by a burning fire, a passion that knows no limits. Every smile, every touch, every word we exchange is a treasure that I keep in my soul.
My wife, my queen, my whole life is dedicated to you. I'm willing to conquer the world, to fight entire armies if necessary, to protect you and ensure our love lasts forever. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate us, because we are one.
In each conquest, in each victory, it will be your name that will echo in my heart. Let the world know that you are the reason I fight, the reason I breathe. And let no one else dare to think of taking your place in my heart, as that would be a fatal mistake.
With love,
Napoleon.
Marquis de Lafayette
My only love,
As I write these words, my heart overflows with a passion that only grows with time. Each day that passes by your side, my beloved, only serves to strengthen the bond that unites us.
Your presence lights up my days and warms my nights, like a radiant sun and a fire burning in my chest. Your eyes, deep as oceans, reflect the love we share and the future I envision by your side.
My beloved, you are my safe haven, the anchor that keeps my soul anchored amid the storm of life. You are the reason why I would face entire armies, the force that drives me to conquer the world, just to be able to offer you the best this world has to offer.
However, I must confess that the thought of anyone else getting close to you, of touching what is mine, makes me disturbed and tormented. My love for you is so overwhelming that I would do anything, absolutely anything, to protect what's ours.
I promise that I will continue to be your devoted and faithful husband, always willing to face the world to ensure your safety and happiness. May the entire world know that you are mine, as I am yours, now and forevermore.
With a love that will never know limits,
Marquis de Lafayette.
#yandere love letter#love letter#yandere history#history#yandere historical characters#yandere napoleon bonaparte x reader#yandere napoleon bonaparte#yandere napoleon bonaparte love letter#napoleon Bonaparte x reader#yandere marquis de Lafayette#yandere marquis de lafayette x reader#yandere marquis de lafayette love letter#marquis de lafayette x reader
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
Under your balcony
Warnings: suicide, arranged marriage, manipulation, stalking, use of poisons
The beautiful city of Valvevia hides more than great museums and palaces that people can admire during the day, it also hides desperate monsters that hide at night without anyone observing them.
°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●
Desperate Romantic Yandere who is supposed to hate you, after all, both families have been enemies for centuries and it doesn't seem like that situation will change anytime soon.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who couldn't help but have a crush on you since you two were teenagers, always looking for an opportunity to be close to you or to be noticed.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who already has all his friends annoyed, he only talks about you day, afternoon and night, and even when he sleeps, you are the only thing on his mind.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who infiltrates your family's parties just to see you up close, but he is careful that the rest of your family does not notice his presence, he would not like you to see him while he fights with a relative yours.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who can't help but feel bitter and at times angry, if only the two families were not in disputes and fights all the time, he would have already asked for your hand in marriage a long time ago.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who thinks you might be interested in him too, in his mind there is no other man who loves you as much as he loves you and that should be one of the reasons why he is the one for you.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who is oblivious to the fact that you also hate his family, including him, that you would rather jump off a bridge or stick a sword in your heart than date him voluntarily.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who sneaks into your house every night to be able to watch you under your balcony wishing he could watch you before going to sleep.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who once tried to recite a poem to you under your balcony and having the moon as a witness, described the eternal love that he felt for you and that he wanted nothing more than to be by your side for all eternity.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who ended up running if he didn't want to end up with a pot on his head, in his hideout he could hear you yelling curses and threats, but that didn't make him fall in love less, quite the opposite.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who can also be very manipulative and unstable, and that side of him came out when he found out that your family were planning to marry you to the son of a marquis, his room became a mess after hearing the news.
Desperate Romantic Yandere thought of a thousand ideas to avoid that marriage, but nothing seemed good enough.
Desperate Romantic Yandere had an idea when one of the many nights of visiting you under your balcony, he dazzled a young woman who was walking near where he was.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who recognized the young lady, it was your younger cousin who he had only heard very little about her and who at that moment he had decided to use her as a pawn to get to his lover, you.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who began to court her in secret, filling her with "love" and gifts, reciting poems about a future together and pouring out all a passionate love poems that are really for you, refuses to write poems for another person that is not you.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who can't help but laugh maliciously, in less than 3 weeks he made this woman fall at his feet begging for more of his love, every day he was closer to reaching the last facet of his plan.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who convinces her that everyone wants to separate them when in fact no one but them knows about their "relationship" and that they should go to more extreme measures to avoid being separated, he tells her that they should commit double suicide.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who advised her to write a letter describing how she had fallen madly in love with a member of the enemy family excluding his name, he would not risk them discovering his plan, much less you and that they had decided of their own free will to end their lives so as not to have to live another day without each other.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who gives her the white widow poison, a poison so deadly that the person dies in minutes without a cure to reverse the effect, convinces her that after her, he will also take the poison a lie and while he watches her die, thinks about who will be the poor soul of his own family who will take the role of the unfortunate lover.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who chooses his older cousin, if he disappeared, Desperate Romantic Yandere would be the next on the list to be the successor to take the title of duke, that would give him more advantage in being able to be with you.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who watches with joyful eyes as the city of Valvevia goes into a state of panic when they discover the tragedy of the ill-fated lovers, the two families involved are devastated and have no time to continue their quarrel as they are so busy mourning their dead.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who convinces his family that they should make a peace deal with the other family, but not just any deal, but a marriage deal and convinces them that you and he would be the best option, if the family wants to protest he reminds them about the recent tragedy and how they could avoid a similar event in the future.
Desperate Romantic Yandere that his plan was a complete success when he discovered that your marriage with the maques had been canceled and that your family had accepted the marriage proposal that his family had sent in a letter while explaining the advantages of a union of the two families.
Desperate Romantic Yandere who is so ecstatic to see you walk down the aisle of the church towards him, daydreaming about what married life would be like and that he finally had everything he deserved. Instead, you were dying inside, first you had lost your darling little cousin and now you've been forced to marry the worst man you've ever known, and you were convinced that somehow he had planned all of this.
Desperate Romantic Yandere "to be with you is my dream, everything I long for and desire, it is my need and my reason for being"
#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere male#yandere male x reader#yandere#yandere romantic#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#x reader#reader insert#margo#merchen#gn reader#gender neutral reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Love Too Dark Masterlist
The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader
Summary:
She was working as a bunny-girl in a casino when a mysterious VVIP arrived to ruin the peace in her life.
It's scary when someone like the Marquis de Gramont - ambitious, rich, and highly influential - took an interest in you.
WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.
This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.
This story is also available on Archive Of Our Own (AO3) site.
Link
Chapters
Chapter 01: A Deal With The Devil
Chapter 02: Chaos and Risks
Chapter 03: He Grabbed Her
Chapter 04: Insatiable Need For Satisfaction
Chapter 05: Dark And Primal
Chapter 06: Lives In His Hands
Chapter 07
If you’re interested in being on my taglist to be tagged in the next chapters, please leave a comment here and mention the taglist.
#marquis de gramont#vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont#marquis x reader#marquis de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont x reader#marquis vincent de gramont x reader#john wick chapter 4#female reader#reader insert#tw dubcon#tw noncon
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Cultivating Flowers
Title: Cultivating Flowers
Fandom: Original
Summary: Marquis is a man of many interests, including gardening. Specifically, his new roses.
Word count: 3500+
Characters: OC!Marquis x Reader (female)
Notes: yandere!OC, manipulation, animal cruelty (not detailed, briefly described), seduction.
The first bloom appears two weeks after spring starts and it's the most glorious flower in all Marquis' garden. Gentle apricot color, like your favourite dress. You were saving for months — a whole autumn — and grandfather grumbled and grumbled about the frivolous waste of money, but once you finally put it on, his scolding didn't matter a bit. The dress made you feel like royalty — elegant, graceful, important.
You wonder if this is how Marquis feels all the time.
Gorgeous outfits, a splendid castle, a life of aristocracy and ease where everything is taken care of by servants and every other weekend there's an opulent dinner party full of refined conversations.
Your envy for him is almost as big as your caution.
Marquis Nicolae is rich. Like many rich people he possesses time. And when one has too much, they become terribly, infinitely bored. That's what grandfather told you in one of his drunken rants: people who are rich, castle-rich, private carriage-rich for generations are bored like nobody else, because nothing is scarce to them and so nothing is precious either. Work for them. Take their money. Keep your head low and remember — they don't see us like we see them.
Grandfather doesn't work in the castle anymore. He's got old hands which shake from years of physical labour and fruit brandy, back-aching hunched posture and swollen feet that need rest. Now he stays at home, waiting for you to return with stories and bread rolls baked by the cook.
He used to serve Marquis Nicolae's father, who was twice as rich, but thrice as wicked, according to grandfather's words.
"I was a stableman, your grandmother was a seamstress, God rest her soul. Sewed all my shirts, this one included," he tugs at the fabric with pride. "She did well on it... Look at those stitches."
For a moment he gets lost in muttering and rubs his index finger on an even patch of stitched fabric, as if hoping his touch can conjure a spectre. "Not like now, where clothes fall apart after just three seasons. Quality... Sturdiness," he smacks the table. "People used to think long term. Made their shirts for decades, strong like this."
Grandfather is forgetful these days, he leaps from one topic to another and loses the main line of thought, especially after a few glasses. But you wait.
"When I worked for Lord Cazimir, you see," he says finally. "He had horses, all strong, sleek, looked like jewels. A new horse each two months, said it wasn't right for a gentleman to have one for too long, but by God, I never saw a man treat them worse than him. Not enough sleep, ridden until bones hurt. If the carriage hit a stone, it was the horse's fault, if the reins got tangled it was the horse's fault, not the bloody driver. He had that whip with metal feathers which could cut through an apple. And before he made the last swish, he'd pause. Look the horse in the eyes. That was the scariest thing, how he stared at them, so calmly."
He glances at you, as if fearing an admonishment. For what? You wonder how it felt, caring for something that looked like a jewel time after time, after time, and knowing the goodbye was certain and inevitable, like a turn of a watermill wheel. Did grandfather mourn the horses? Or did he get used to burying their bodies under the soil? Maybe they fed someone later — people who don't have much are resourceful, they don't bury good meat.
You squeeze the water from the sheet in silence.
"None simply lived past two months, that's why he changed them so often."
"Why didn't you quit?"
"And then do what?" Grandfather snorts. "There was little job outside the castle, everyone who didn't have land or livestock worked for Marquis one way or another."
"It must have been difficult."
"Life is difficult," he answers, and you can't disagree.
Life is difficult, that's a fact, and it didn't get better when you started working for Marquis Nicolae yourself. A good thing is that unlike Lord Cazimir from scare stories he doesn't torment horses and rarely pays attention to anybody in a servant uniform. All of you share the same mindset: a quick "Good morning, m'lord" or "Have a pleasant day, m'lord" and then being gone as fast as possible.
Rumors circulate that Marquis never once had a full smile on his face. Charming chuckles when he's in a good mood, courtly lips stretches for ladies, bemused sneers when he's addressed by those who used to be in favour but now are out — yes, but the genuine and full-hearted joy: nobody has witnessed it.
He doesn't seem unhappy though, nor he is too serious. When you see him Marquis Nicolae always looks like he has eternity at hand and there's no hurry to spend it. To you, he is uninterested in anything and sharp about everything at once.
You can't describe him better. Words fail you when trying to fit him into boxes of easy understanding. But after all, it's not your job to fit him anywhere, your job is dusting shelves and scrubbing floors, and, since recent days — taking care of roses.
It's unusual for the castle to have such plants this early in spring. They're imported, said the gardener, from cooler places and prefer winter over the blooming season of May and June. That's why Marquis commissioned a greenhouse construction weeks prior, to have beautiful flowers which can bloom regardless of the weather. It took an entire month of hard work, people hired from nearby towns and a promise of good money. You watched them build from the kitchen window where you were helping with meals.
Roses arrived next. Seven bushes filled with buds ready to open up any day. And oh they did. Soft apricot colors covered stems like dewdrops, beautiful enough to make one gasp.
One morning you bring your rag and a bucket to the greenhouse a bit earlier to enjoy the fragrance before breakfast is served. Nice things like these are not for maids like you — the petal scent and the gentle touch of leaves — they're for ladies in beautiful dresses who have time and luxury to appreciate them, but nobody will know anyway if you stop to lean down close enough for your nose to almost bury itself in velvety softness. It's a small indulgence which can hardly hurt anyone. Nobody will know if you pretend to be a lady just for a minute.
"They're quite extraordinary, aren't they."
You freeze, nose in the middle of the rose bush.
"I- Yes", you straighten up and curtsy. "They are most beautiful, m'lord."
Marquis' figure, backlit by the morning sun, casts a shadow which stretches far beyond your own feet.
"Do you know why I chose it?" he asks. "This breed."
He's dressed in a dark waistcoat with delicate embroidery on the collar and doesn't have a single hair out of place, not a strand too thick, not a strand too thin; as flawless as a painting which hang on the walls of his library, but not as solemn. Those paintings seem to measure everyone around them. Marquis Nicolae looks more approachable in appearance, and that's where the approachability ends. His eyes, burgundy brown colour you've never seen before, measure people too, in value rather than worthlessness.
You shake your head, "No, m'lord."
"Because," Marquis continues without minding your answer at all, "it's pretty."
His lips stretch in a courtly smile of a gentleman who is amused by his own joke. You don't understand it but smile in return anyway, because you must. Because this is how the world works — nobles are amused and maids fake understanding so the amusement can persist a little longer.
"Go on," he says. "They are meant to be smelled after all."
You nod and curtsy again.
Later he will be served tea at the ornate greenhouse table while you scrub the floors until your fingers ache. Marquis' focus will shift towards letters, and this is how it's supposed to be. Him reading correspondence, you being invisible like dust under the shelves you clean. It feels better when he doesn't look at you with those eyes of his. They pierce through everything they see.
There's something wrong about him. But you can't tell what yet.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Life is monotonous, especially in a place like this, even banquets and events have that homogeneous taste, because there's at least one every three weeks, not speaking of brunches which rotate regularly depending on who's currently in Marquis' favour. You serve dishes full of rich fragrances that make your mouth water but can't ever dream of trying them. Meat dripping with wine sauce, roasted chicken breasts wrapped in crispy bacon and glazed with honey syrup. Fresh fruits coated in powdered sugar. Sometimes in the evening when everyone is asleep you mouth the names of those meals: "Beef Bourguignon," "Veal Piccata", "Chicken Florentine". Those foreign words are hard to pronounce — Beef Boo-gee-nyon, Veel Pick-kata — you do it quietly and mostly in your head so grandfather doesn't hear and scoff about wasting time on useless things.
"You're not starving," he would say. "There's bread, there's soup, you don't need those. Be happy, girl. We used to eat potatoes for months straight during famines."
You've never been hungry enough to know what famine tastes like but suspect that the flavor must be something similar to the dull feeling between the busy hours of work, which gnaws at you and makes your thoughts drift to the lunch break.
Sometimes, in a particularly sour mood he adds, "Don't stuff your head with fancy nonsense you can't have, it's only gonna make you bitter."
True.
You're a maid. A girl. A nobody.
And this is how it's supposed to be.
How to tell grandfather that you don't wish to be fancy? Just to try once the roast duck stuffed with grapes and apples, or fresh sardines baked in butter sauce, which smell heavenly as they're carried up the stairs to Marquis Nicolae's salon where guests are gathered.
How to tell him that it's not about food, not really.
It's about knowing what an apricot rose smells like early in the morning while others sleep. How velvety its petals feel when touched. Delicate things like these you're not supposed to have, but do anyway, because a moment stolen out of monotony pulls you from beneath the apron. You, yourself, not just a pair of hands with tired fingers, exist briefly when roses bloom in Marquis' greenhouse and a little piece of yesterday's cake is smuggled into your pocket.
You understand why he's wary. Grandfather's right: with longing comes bitterness. But you're careful not to overdo it. There's only one stolen minute of appreciation each day, not more, so you remember who you are — someone meant to be seen rarely and unnoticed most of the time — and return behind the apron.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Spring goes on.
Daylight stretches a little longer. Ground gets a little warmer. Marquis Nicolae often spends time in his private study after breakfast, then at noon — in the greenhouse. He strolls there among the greenery or sits by one of the tables with a book. Reading seems to be an activity he favors, and unlike some other gentlemen who grow tired within pages Marquis can stay completely still for hours without once getting restless.
You know because you watch him from the corner of your eye.
What kind of books he likes to read if they manage to keep him entertained for such lengthy periods, what titles do those leather spines hide, which stories are good enough for a gentleman like Marquis? He always seems so politely disinterested. You wonder if there are books that can make even him laugh.
Sometimes he asks you questions which startle you.
"Have you read 'The Castle of the Lady'? It's a novel."
You shake your head. "No m'lord. I can't read."
His eyebrows raise. Not in astonishment, Marquis Nicolae has a face of a man who rarely encounters surprises, his reactions are akin to mild interest bordering on curiosity, as if he enjoys discovering something new, something that doesn't fit into his existing assumptions.
"Can't?" he repeats.
You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, "No, m'lord. Never learnt."
"Who raised you?"
"My grandfather. He's a stableman... was. Now retired".
"I see," he returns to his book.
You fidget with a rag in your hands, why does he care to ask such question? What difference does it make whether you read or don't? It's not that uncommon. Most servants only know the basics, letters which form their names and the ones that stand for numbers. You don't really need the skill. What for?
"You may continue," he adds.
So you do.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Are you the only child?"
"Yes, m'lord."
"Your mother? Father?"
"My mother passed away giving birth to me, and father was a soldier, so he died in a war."
"What a shame," Marquis says, but it sounds like a comment on bad weather.
You're standing with fresh linens in his opulent bedchamber. It's spacious: tall windows and furniture made of rare wood. Old, like the walls of Albastru castle itself. A maid's life story is neither interesting nor important enough to pursue it, at least not in the place like this. Marquis Nicolae is bored, that's the most reasonable explanation to the current arrangement. He's looking for entertainment, but what entertainment can come at your expense, you're unsure.
Grandfather warned you not to draw too much attention, but it's not exactly your fault. Marquis' schedule is well known — he spends evenings in the salon and retires long past midnight. The chamber should've been empty. You should've been able to change his bedding, clean the fireplace and leave without as much as a sound.
Yet here he is, in a high armchair by the fireplace.
And here you are, in front of him, waiting for a dismissal that doesn't come.
On a small coffee table there're squares with simple pictures — a dog, a cat, an apple, made of thin wood with letters engraved in black ink. You step from one foot to the other, the lemon-scented sheets hide the way your fingers twitch.
Marquis traces a square with a rose.
"Sit down," he says and motions to the other chair.
"Your linens, m'lord-"
"They can wait."
No, they can't, you think. The bedding needs to be done, the fireplace cleaned, carpets swept, wilted flowers removed — there's so much to do to linger, and it's already getting late. If you're not able to finish on time-
But Marquis Nicolae didn't give you permission to leave.
You sit and put the linens on your lap.
Grandfather would say that Marquis enjoys the sight of your discomfort behind that courtly smile of his, but he doesn't look amused, he looks the usual. Calm and slightly disinterested. Sharp, despite being relaxed.
"If you figure out what letters stand from this," he points at the apple picture square, "to this one," then moves his finger to the picture with a goat, "you'll get a treat."
"M'lord?" you frown.
There must be something wrong with your hearing, but no, Marquis leans back and crosses his long legs. "A treat."
Treats are for children, treats are for dogs, treats are for horses who are obedient and look like jewels. You stare at him, puzzled, but try not to let it show; nobles have strange hobbies sometimes: races which cost thousands of gold coins for one bet alone, hunting dangerous animals, forcing their servants into duels to pass time. This must be one of those, an entertainment beyond your comprehension.
Still, time is moving forward and the complexity of your situation is becoming more apparent with every passing second; you've never felt particularly powerful — why would you? — but now you're acutely aware of how fragile one's position is when it depends on someone else's whims.
You take the first picture.
An apple. Letter A. Then a ball — B. Cat... So that's what they look like written down.
Marquis' eyes follow your fingers as they slide across the wooden squares, you feel his gaze like a touch, even though there's a coffee table distance between you and a bit more. You quietly mouth each word and letter by habit, unaware of this little detail. His eyebrows raise, this time with a hint of amusement which you don't see, too focused on your predicament.
Dog — D.
The clock is ticking.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Well?" Marquis asks later when shadows cross the room. The sun is gone, the fire in the fireplace burns lower but bright enough to illuminate the space. Sitting like this has given you a headache which makes thinking harder.
"I have them figured out m'lord", you say carefully.
"Tell me then."
"This is A," you slide the apple towards him across the table. It feels a little silly. "This is B."
The way you say them isn't quite accurate. It's "bee" instead of "b" and "dee" instead of "d", but he doesn't tell you that. Your voice goes quieter with each following letter, perhaps because you're nervous or maybe simply tired — who knows what time it is by now? Ah, quarter to ten. He watches you struggle with spelling and pronunciation until finally there they are. All squares from Apple to Goat, in order just like he arranged them.
"What about this one?" Nicolae points to the playing cat.
"It starts with 'K', m'lord."
You're quite sure, not that much variation is left after all, and say it with the most conviction you can muster so he would finally be satisfied and end this odd game. Your head hurts and stomach grumbles with hunger — there was no time for the lunchbreak today —both physical and mental exhaustion blur together.
Grandfather must be worried sick by now, he hates when you're late without telling anything beforehand.
Then Marquis covers his mouth, and for the first time since you entered Albastru castle, laughs.
Not chuckles. Not smiles without smiling. Laughs that his shoulders shake, that his eyes crinkle at the corners. You stare bewildered, not knowing what to do. Laugh yourself? Smile politely? Say "m'lord" again?
Marquis' laughter dies down eventually and he collects himself, straightening his waistcoat which doesn't require any adjusting in the first place, he's perfect as always.
"No, that's C."
Your cheeks flush red, how were you supposed to know? It would seem that a gentleman such as Marquis Nicolae should know better than mocking someone's lack of education, but apparently he finds it amusing. You lower your gaze and look away.
"How are you called?" he asks.
After a pause your name rolls off your tongue; small in his bedchamber, it barely leaves an echo.
"Well, I said a treat, didn't I?"
You don't want any treats, or to spend here even a minute longer; Marquis rises and walks towards his desk.
"Come here."
Reluctantly you stand up and follow him. The linens are left on the chair in a crumpled pile, they need ironing now. There's nothing to do other than obeying so you stop next to him where he opens one of the drawers. Inside you can see something wrapped in white paper with a thin ribbon bow around it. He takes the item out and pulls the ribbon off. Delicate scent fills the air, the little cakes, you know their name from the cook ─ macarons ─ bloom inside the wrapping.
Marquis Nicolae picks one up with two fingers and brings it to your lips.
The macarons smell sweet like almonds and look beautiful like roses in his greenhouse. They're not for maids, you think, no, this is...he shouldn't be doing that.
Your mouth waters anyway.
His eyes don't leave your face, "Do you want it or not?"
You do.
"Then take a bite."
The dessert melts in your mouth instantly. Its texture is soft, like petals, like everything else luxurious you've never had but imagined countless times. A little chewy, a bit crunchy, it's the most delicious thing you've tried, better than a piece of cake taken from the kitchen pantry, better than honeyed walnut bread.
"Another one?"
Marquis Nicolae feeds you two more, before you realize what exactly is happening — a bite by a small bite your dignity dissolves into his hand. You swallow the last morsel and quickly step back; you've forgotten yourself, forgot who you were and where, and now there's sweetness lingering on your tongue, while Marquise' fingertips smell faintly of apricot.
What have you done?
He looks amused again.
"Thank you, m'lord," you curtsy, then turn around to gather the discarded sheets.
"Clean the fireplace and change the linens. Then you might be free."
"Yes, m'lord."
It's a dismissal at last.
Marquis sits down and reaches for a book — he's done with you it seems — so you hurry to complete the assigned tasks. The fireplace isn't too dirty fortunately, just some ashes and coal leftovers. Next, the sheets, then the flowers.
Before you close the door and rush down the empty hall he speaks again, "If you still remember them all by tomorrow evening, you'll have another treat."
#shalott fanfiction#yandere#original character#original work#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader
84 notes
·
View notes
Note
So in your Yandere Vincent de Gramont Headcanons
do you think he eventually talked his girlfriend/boyfriend round to have a proper relationship?
Honestly, that all depends on how strong your will is when rejecting Vincent's advances. He's the image of a gentleman with enough money to build another planet if he wanted to, so to have you resist giving in to his grandiose acts of love are, from his point of view, beyond frustrating.
So, if you ever did agree to enter a proper, requited relationship with him, he's absolutely ecstatic. Has to resist the urge to throw a party in honour of this momentous occasion.
Just be warned that, if you thought he was down bad before, you've seen nothing yet. The lengths of his exponential need to keep you close and safe multiply by unfathomable measures the second you've willingly taken him as your partner.
God help the person who discovers this after getting a bit too close to you.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist
#sweet as an angel#yandere john wick#vincent de gramont#yandere vincent de gramont#john wick 4#john wick chapter 4#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#tw yandere#yandere writing#yandere x darling#yandere male#male yandere#marquis de gramont#marquis de gramont x reader
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
vincent de gramont x assistant!reader: i made you my temple, my mural, my sky now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. | the marquis wants more of what meets the eye.
plot: the one where the marquis has had enough of just a glimpse.
warning: unrequited?,vincent is down bad af, boss-assistant relationship
masterlist
your cries of pain are so soft but so loud in his ears. stupid, stupid girl. what have you done? it frightens him to see you so…helpless. he tries to soothe you from it but to no avail, he can feel the warm thick blood from your torso dripping on his trousers.
but what petrifies him to the bone was your silence. the moment you flutter your eyes shut and the whimpers of pain from your lips dwindle down makes his blood run cold.
what happened next was a blur for him but all he can remember was holding your hand as thomas drove through the thick of the city to bring you to safety. why had you done that? he clasps your hand even tighter when he can feel you take a sharp breath every now and then. it makes him hope. it makes him pray to any god out there to let you live. please…not her..not her. not when she did that for me. not when she just took a bullet for me, it cannot be. he doesn’t know why, but he does. he’ll beg on his knees to every god out there if it meant seeing you safe and alive.
when you're taken from his arms and placed on a stretcher, he can only stand in shock. it still doesn’t make sense to him, were you…not what he thought you were? no, no she was just in the way of it. she probably cursed me to death when she got shot. but she hadn’t said anything, and the way she looked at me. god it was full of fear and dread, she had gripped on him when he’d taken her to his arms, and it was full of the fight left inside her. the way she latched her hand on his wrist felt like the way you would grip a rosary for a prayer to god, he wonders to himself.
the marquis stands still in front of the door. behind the door, are skillful medical professionals working to keep you alive but it doesn’t feel enough. he feels fear pool into his stomach. what if she doesn’t recover? what if she doesn’t live through the night? what if she dies? what would he do?
his mouth sews shut and his throat goes dry. she’ll live. she has to, the marquis reassures himself. he cannot bear the thought of you gone, of you dead on a medical table all because of him.
the gods had been gracious. why? because right now, he’s sitting beside the bedside table on which he has his preferred drink; a pitcher of lemon water. other than that there’s the matter of you.
there you are in the least of your glory. tucked beneath the silk sheets in one of the guest rooms of his estate and your head laid on the large wooly pillows. the doctor managed to stabilize the wound on your torso.
“thankfully, the bullet hadn’t hit any vital organs, the main concern we focused on was the excessive bleeding from it.” the doctor explains to him. there are more he says to him, but he never hears the end of it. all he could focus on was you. your eyes still shut but your breathing was steady, he could hear the beeping of the vitals sign monitor as he gazed at you.
you looked so…innocent. as if you weren’t recovering from an injury but merely sleeping. your guard was down and you seemed so calm. something he never witnessed while you worked for him, not that he’s ungrateful for it but you always seemed rigid and always expected something bad to be thrown on your face all the time, to see you so relaxed and serene felt like a gift.
it felt like a privilege from the gods. oh they truly had been gracious enough to give this sight to him.
he wondered if he would see more of this once you woke up. he hopes he does, your sweet angelic face that was always nervous and alert was more delightful to see when you were peaceful. he wonders what your smile would be like, how the corner of your lips would curve when you were amused from something he said, you’d often hid it from him trying to remain professional when a you heard a jape from someone.
he wonders what your sweet laugh would sound like. that would be lovely to hear. how it could sound like music to his ears when it came from you, how precious it would be just to hear it once. he would be honored if you were ever to bestow that gift to him. lastly, he wonders how to make you happy. how to make you pleased whenever you see him, not that composed structure you give him when you greet him in the morning but something genuine. he wants to tear down the walls you’ve built in front of him so he can see you. what you’re truly like.
now, you’ve shown a glimpse of it to him. he wants more, he prays that when you wake up, you won't shut him out again. when you wake up don’t shove him out of what you’re like. when you wake up don’t hide what you feel for him, not from him, don’t hide it from him. don’t wake him up just to realize it was all a dream. a fantasy he thought that came to its reality. you’re many things but cruelty is not one of them. so don’t break him, for god’s sake don’t.
“how long until she awakens?” he interrupts the doctor in the middle of his talk, surprisingly still going on.
“i’d give it two to three weeks, sir. if her vitals remain stable.” the doctor answers dutifully,
he hums before replying, “you can go.”
the doctor nods and bows his head a little then obediently obeys his command. right now, it’s just you, him and that monitor.
he stares at your face in uncertainty, two weeks. before it was something that seemed short enough for him but right now it felt like a century. he wanted to speak to you, to talk to you. he had so many questions for you, why you’d taken a bullet from him. if you wanted to resign from your job. why you made him feel like this.
like a lovesick fool.
as if that wasn’t painful enough, the answers he wanted to hear cannot be said. it felt like you told him you loved him then fled, although unintentionally it’s not like you intentionally got yourself shot to avoid confrontation from him…did you?
he shakes that thought out of his mind, the truth can only be provided through you. who is unable to answer that for at least two weeks, it was itching him to know, to know what you’ve done to him. what magic or skill you’ve done to make him latch onto you like a bug.
most of all he wants to know where does that leave the both of you. he wishes you don’t flee from him, that you’ll take him for what he is and more. he doesn’t think he can handle the idea of you out of his reach. out of safety, the only comfort you can only seek in this world is from him.
albeit, ironic considering you’re passed out on a bed because of a bullet meant for him. but when you wake up, he’ll promise. he’ll swear to you, that nothing, nothing would ever get to you ever again. he would protect you with all his power and control over the country just to see you sheltered from harm. what good is his power if he can’t use it to protect you from his enemies? anyone that fucks with you, fucks with me mon amour. i promise. he promises to you and to himself.
he remembers a painting he saw in the louvre. the death of alcestis. a tale about how alcestis willingly dies in place of her husband, admetus. at first, he’d thought the pair, alcestis and admetus were a bunch of fools. why would you eagerly die for someone? if you truly cared for your wife why had you let her die in your place? that’s not love, it’s simply tragedy. not that he has much experience on that matter but he never understood it.
the evening he starts to understand,. alcestis dies for her husband because of love, because she cannot bear the pain of her love absent in this world. she cannot live without her lover. did you think the same when you took a bullet for him? did you think that no pain could compare if he were dead? although for admetus, he could not find a defense for him, ironically he is the admetus to your alcestis but he swears. he swears that will never be the case ever again.
he’ll bring you back from the dead if it meant he would die in your place.
the guilt surges into his guts, mixing with the pool of fear that rushed into his veins last night. he feels sorry, for his failure, for himself but most especially for you. he feels miserable that he’d failed you, that because of him you got hurt.
it’ll never happen again. i won’t let it happen again. he vows to himself. he has to, for your sake and his.
as he stands up to leave, he goes to your bed and gazes into your face once more. he lowers himself to your frame, setting himself on the edge of the bed. you make no sign of disturbance from his movement, still heavily asleep. he takes your hand and strokes the back of it, lovingly.
“i have to go mon amour, but i’ll be back. i’ll be here when you wake up, i’ll be the first person you’ll see the same way i was the last person you saw.” he whispers to your dozing face, he ponders if you could hear him. likely not, but it doesn’t hurt to wonder.
he leans forward and slowly presses a soft kiss to your temple. gentle and nothing harsh, meant to convey his care with how fragile you were right now. he lets his lips linger on the softness of your temple, relishing on the mellow texture of your skin. he wants to stay here, with you. just the two of you like it always was for the past two years, he should’ve urged you to come sit with him in the car on the way to meetings, should’ve spoken to you every chance he had and he should’ve confessed how he felt towards you. no point mourning time that has been spent, even if it meant years that were wasted.
when he pulls away from you it feels like a force urged him to stay and he hopes he could but he can’t. he has a lifetime for that now, and so do you. he lifts your hand to his lips then slowly kisses your wrist, also lingering so long but seems so short for the marquis.
he leisurely stands up, keeping his eyes on your face. he strides towards the door then takes one last glance before opening the door. i’ll be back and she’ll still be safe. i’ll only be gone for only a few hours, he murmurs to himself.
he opens the door and sees a pair of guards by your door, they stand straight and acknowledge him by nodding their head. he sees thomas walking up to him, likely bearing news.
“sir, we’ve carefully taken them. they’re chained up at the edge of the city, we go at your order.” thomas informs him diligently. the marquis simply nods his head, a gesture of affirmation. he turns his head to the pair guarding your room.
“make sure to call for me, the moment she wakes up and keep her here until i say otherwise. understood?” he sternly instructs with the cold tone they’ve known for years. the pair answer obediently with compliance.
the marquis leaves them then walks through the hall towards the exit of the manor with thomas trailing behind him, it was odd to no longer hear the clicking of your heels behind him but right now he had other concerns.
it was time to make the people who hurt you, pay for what they’ve done.
when the news reaches his ears, he’s astounded. almost three weeks after your operation, you were finally awake. it delights him, to finally know you were safe and awake. he immediately stands up from his chair and walks out of his office.
he was overjoyed with what he just heard, although he did everything in his power to not let it show on his face as he trudged through the halls of the manor. the dread and fear was gone, in its stead it was bliss and happiness, he felt lighthearted knowing that the threat of losing you from death was finally extinguished.
two weeks after the incident and you still haven’t woken from your slumber, it had angered him. so he had taken it out on the doctor responsible for your recovery, he had pierced his hand with a knife and his assistant nurse had to help him pry the knife from his hand, from what he heard. it can be said that it was an overreaction and ever since that occurrence everyone walked on eggshells around him.
now it was gone, he felt relieved to know that you’re awake but as he neared your room, he heard a door close, the sound echoing in the cavernous hall. soon after, he saw adeline, the senior housekeeper coming from the other direction he was headed. the housekeeper stopped on her feet and acknowledged him by lightly bowing her head. he wondered if adeline just visited your room, it was probable to happen considering she had been one of his spies during his “venture of getting to know you”. he shakes that thought, it wasn’t important but a mysterious feeling remained in his stomach.
when he saw thomas and another of this men guarding your door, he saw the doctor and nurse nearing your door. the doctor greeted him but he made no effort to do the same. the moment he enters through the door he sees you.
awake. alive. safe
he swears his heart could burst just by the sight of you.
he stays silent the entire exchange between you and the medics. he sat on another of the chairs, lounging and waiting for it to end so he way share a word with you. he notices the way you flinch while they rebandage your wound.
he wants to kill that entire family all over again, just for the way you flinch right now.
when the pair of medical professionals leave he gazes at you. it takes all his strength to keep his composure calm and professional when all he wants to do is take you into his arms and kiss you senseless.
he speaks the first word for the both of you, simple courtesies. how were you feeling and the situation of your injury, nothing important. you thank him for the measures he’s done for you to keep you alive. i’ve done more and i’ll do it all over again. he wants to say but doesn’t.
what makes his brain suddenly stop functioning for a moment was when you ask when you tell him you need to go home.
you are home. can’t you see? can’t you see?! he wants to tell you.
it was starting to happen. he was starting to lose you when he just had you. he walks towards the window and faces away from you, trying to remain composure.
“sir?” you call out to him.
i can’t let you leave. i cannot bear the thought of it, i felt like i was being torn apart alive knowing you almost died because of me. how much more knowing you’re alive but not within my reach? don’t be cruel, mon coeur. don’t do this.
“is there something wrong with what i said?” you innocently question to him.
“you cannot.” he finally spits out.
you’re shoving me away just like what i feared. but why? i’ve done good things and unspeakable things for you, you can’t simply abandon me like this. not when you’ve made me feel alive and loved.
“why? is there something wrong with me?” you worried ask him, “sir?” you add when he doesn’t reply to you.
“it’s not…safe.” he states to you, finally facing you. he stares at you, if it was a gift to watch you asleep, it was a pleasure to see you awake again.
“for…who? for you or for them?” you frown, trying to deduce everything he’s said to you.
“it’s not safe for you.” he finally clears it out, glad to have gotten rid of it.
your mouth falls open, “what? it’s you they were aiming for, not me. they wanted to kill you. it was you they wanted to shoot. you were the target. i honestly don’t think they’d go after the assistant to finish the job. right?” you begin to ramble.
tell me something i don’t know, my dear. i’m reminded of that every night i sleep and every breath i draw from this world. no need to rub that in, but i’ve made amends. you have nothing to worry about.
“yes, you’re right. they wouldn’t.” he disclosed to you, “i know that bullet was intended for me, the man was supposed to shoot me. god knows i know.” he whispers.
“and look what happened to you. what they..did to you.” he says as he slowly walks towards you. “you…you weren’t supposed to get hurt. i don’t think i can forgive myself for that.” he says softly as he looks back at you.
suddenly, everything finally sets into your head. he can see your eyes widen while he gazes into your face. the urge to hold you close and kiss you like a starved man to death was strong. especially, right now when you’ve realized the weight of his words.
he doesn’t need to say it out loud that he cares and loves you. when the words he said hinted at what he means to say and the actions he’s done spoke better than his words could ever say but he still tries. he knows that you already know but he wants to make sure.
“you’re right. it was meant for me, but you had it instead. you…you took a bullet for me. who does that for someone? how many people in the world can say that they’ve taken a bullet for me? one. there’s only one. and she’s sitting right in front of me.”
the heaviness on his shoulders feels lighter now, he’s finally said the words however merely a fragment of what he truly feels but he has his entire life to say all of them, he’s in no rush to say his love to her right now. he has his entire life to love her.
“believe it or not, mon amour. you’ve become more precious to me than anything this life has to offer, i want to keep you safe and right now the only way is to keep you here.” with him, he wants to keep you safe here with him, away from all the horror of his work, to stay only with him and to speak the words unspoken for years.
“for a while, until you regain your strength. do you understand, mon coeur?”
the marquis has gone fucking crazy.
first he expressed a confession of love to you, second he was watching you the entire time you were asleep and lastly, he won’t let you leave the estate.
it had almost been an hour ever since your conversation with him after you woke up. soon after, thomas knocked the door and peeped his head in, informing the marquis about a visitor in the drawing room. which you were eternally grateful for because you were speechless with everything your boss just told you.
you were still sat on the same chair ever since, you deduced you’ve been in a trance for about two hours and a half, you felt like your legs would give out of shock if you tried to stand up. you found it hard to process everything.
did the marquis feel something for you? certainly. you could tell his intentions from his words and his tone. oh god, the words were enough to catch you off guard but the way he said it, slowly chokes you alive from how stunned you are.
but it feels out of nowhere. in the two years you’ve worked for him, he has been nothing but cold and crass with you like any other interactions between a boss and assistant so this feels rather confusing rather than touching even with the fragility and regret oozing through his tone.
even more reason to go home. you need space, from your injury, from that night and in addition from him.
you need to process your feelings properly without the marquis hovering around you, especially when he made it clear that you weren’t going anywhere. but how in the world were you going to get out of the room? everyone in this estate would immediately inform the marquis and drag you back to the room the moment they see you outside. although you could make an excuse to see someone then bolt through the manor the moment you’re slightly a few paces ahead of them.
you were at a complete disadvantage though, the guards could easily overpower you with their strength and just like you they’re familiar with the nooks and crannies of the sizable manor. however, if you were lucky and stealthy enough, you could attempt to temporarily hide from some rooms until you manage your way to the back door exit without getting caught.
you trudge towards the door, unsure with the plan in your head but too exhausted to make a fool proof one. you slowly push the door with all your strength, you slowly step out and the guard to your right immediately spots you. that’s expected.
“ma’am? you shouldn’t be up and walking around, the marquis specifically instructed that you stayed in your room.” the guard reprimands to you.
“i need to get to the doctor right away. i need the prescription for these painkillers he gave me. you know, in case i need more,” you lie to him.
“we can call for him, so he may come back. easier that way, no hassle for you.”
“i can’t wait for him, it’s urgent. please, i really need this.” you plead to him.
The guard feigns a look of hesitation from your reply. you hold your breath, praying he falls for your folly. he lets out a sigh then answers to you.
“alright, ma’am. but I’ll have to accompany you.”
“thank you.”
the both of you began to walk towards the medic’s office, thankfully the back door was close to the office. silence ensues the walk towards the destination, as you walk you plot your escape. as soon as you make a left, you bolt and run. the pathway to the medic’s was a bit of a maze, hopefully it would confuse the guard and either make the wrong turns or slow down from catching up on you.
several minutes and paces pass by and you finally see the opening to your escape. as soon you made the turn, you ran. a grunt of shock exits the guard’s mouth before scurrying to go after you. then you encounter the turns required for your escape. you move around hastily and once you look back you see that the guard was no longer on your tail. but you couldn’t afford to slow down, sooner or later he might catch up to you or worse another guard captures you.
you could hear bouts of masculine shouts throughout the manor as it bounced off the walls. it filled your stomach with dread and veins pumped full of adrenaline as your heart beat with trepidation. anxious that perhaps the marquis was informed of your ongoing escape.
finally you see the lavish curtain adorned with elegant designs, you shove the curtain aside and search for the door with your hands. for a second, you thought you’d arrived at the wrong place until a soft click entered your ears and your insides warm from happiness. the door was just as heavy as the others and with all your strength you pushed it open half way. you turn to properly fix the curtain making sure no trace of your escape was visible then shut the door as it creaked loudly, cementing the success of your breakout.
you burst open through your door, quickly shutting and locking it. adrenaline and paranoia filled your senses, afraid that you’d been followed to your home and that soon someone was banging on your door until it fell down. you press your back against the door and sink to the floor and sigh in relief.
you take a deep breath and slowly close your eyes for a while, relishing in the comfort of your apartment. you look around glad to see the familiar sight of your home and the sudden purring of your cat. you glance as you see him making his way towards you, a small smile curves your mouth.
ah..one of the burdens are coming to comfort me.
as he nears, you scoop him into your arms and nestle him on your chest. you wish it could stay like this for a while, that you weren’t actively avoiding your slightly deranged boss (that is in love with you?) but merely coming home from a long day to seek comfort from your cat. the ball of fur purrs and vibrations are felt through his body.
you pull away from your cat and get on your feet, making your way to your room for a well earned rest from doing a five mile marathon trying not to get caught. the adrenaline and paranoia was finally long gone.
you needed this. you need to hide out for a while before you face the awkward and confusing truth of reality. the comforting sensation home has given you brought you to sanity. you need to leave.
the guards open the door for him as per usual. although, he can sense fear radiating from them, and due to the intensity of the previous occurrence they were walking eggshells around him again. he enters the room, your room specifically. a few hours ago, the both of you were here and now you were gone, again.
vincent was annoyed. the very people he instructed to keep you in this room failed to obey the task but also lost you as you ran from your escort. not only did you leave this room but you also escaped the estate. how in the world did that happen?
he had no idea you’d be this slippery even with the strict bodyguards instructed to protect and detain keep you in the room. he expected verbal resistance not bloody remus john lupin. isn’t this so sweet? you. the gift that keeps giving.
he doesn’t let his men continue the search, after all there was only one place you could’ve been. in that apartment you live in for the past years, he knows where it is and what floor you are due to the investigation he’d imposed upon you a few years ago. so no worries, he only has his men posted around the structure to make sure you don’t leave. it’s much more strict and controlled than before, this time if they saw you exit the building they’d immediately grab you and bring you back to the estate. so win-win.
although, he prefers to have you here right now, he tries to understand that you’re probably overwhelmed with the surge of events that happened ever since that night. so he lets it pass. as much it insults his pride but he’s not in a hurry to have you stay with him for the rest of your days now that you’re awake. you’ve kept all what you felt from hidden because of his power,his intimidation and his pride. he doesn’t want to lose you again because of it. so he lets it happen, a few hours without you was a price worth paying for a lifetime loving you.
after all love does odd things to people that even the normal human cannot comprehend, love has its mysterious ways and that he can understand for you, even if it wasn’t all going according to what he wanted, he can swallow that down for you. you’ll be all worth it.
he can imagine waking up next to you in the early mornings, grazing your soft palm then slowly kissing your pulse while you sat next to him during dinner and the sweet kisses the both of you would share in the privacy of his room. he can fantasize the sweet dreams and the sinful acts he can do to you when you are finally his.
he inhales the air inside the room, the scent of you evident in the room, like a bloody handprint in a crime scene, attempting to calm himself with the remnants of your presence.
oh..he really misses you.
why do you have to be so stubborn? why do you feel the need to resist him and his love? he’s simply doing this for your best, for your safety. why can’t you just let him do this for you?
this moment should be joyous and exciting between the two of you, because you’ve both found a chance at love. how often does that happen? especially in a workplace, how often does someone find the love of their life within close proximity with them? little to none. he wants to beg you to stay, to journey through the uncharted territory together. don’t leave him, don’t.
he’s finally realized that he loves you, let him show it. let that love melt all that fear you hold in your heart. because it’s all right now, he’s here, let him love you, let him protect you, let him yearn for you.
something vibrates in his pocket, it snaps him out of his trance. a notification beeps through his phone and he leisurely opens it knowing it’s probably a reminder for a meeting. he’s found it hard to arrive at his events on time even with a temporary assistant assigned to him. the latest one wasn’t as sharp and attentive as you, which he found irritating. he really misses you.
the message that laid before his eyes almost made his heart drop.
EMAIL 8:35 PM
SUBJECT: RESIGNATION LETTER
author’s note: this was long…plus i recycled some dialogue bc school’s kicking me in the ass and i couldn’t form coherent stuff for that. i will compensate for that…with another fic…
taglist: @dcgoddess @1mawh0re @davvydobrik @ilunapb @hesvoid3434 @heartrot666
part one part two part three part five
#bill skarsgard imagine#vincent de gramont#vincent de gramont x reader#marquis de gramont#marquis de gramont x reader#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard x reader#bill skarsgard gif#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skarsgard icons#john wick#oneshot#john wick four#john wick fic#keanu reeves#yandere#obsessive#yandere x reader#yearning
719 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
fyi ¡! ❞
most of my fics contain submissive + crybaby coded readers and will be described as soft, cute, n small, so I will be less inclined to take asks about anything other than those types!
dni ¡! ❞
if you are anti dark content. self harm blogs. ed blogs. basic dni's.
writing rules ¡! ❞
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ love to write. fem!reader. angst. yandere. power imbalance. toxic relationships. extreme dubious consent. age gaps (legal). ddlg undertones. blackmailing. kidnapping. manipulation. ੈ♡˳nsfw. breeding. dumbification. coercion. dacryphilia. somnophilia. free use. sex tapes. virginity kink. innocence kink. dollification.
◛˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ will not write. male reader. gn reader. top/extreme dom reader. real people. pedophilia. excessive bodily fluids (piss, scat, vomit, etc). suicide. eating disorders. self-harm. pegging. ageplay & regression. pregnancy. cucking. anything I don't want to. anything I don't feel comfortable with. specific descriptions of the reader (i.e. skin color, body type, etc.), readers will always be cute, soft, n small as stated before.
fandoms ¡! ❞
hazbin hotel. helluva boss. spiderverse. avatar the way of water. dc. house of the dragon. game of thrones. asoiaf. the hunger games. pjo. harry potter. the marauders. fnaf. genshin impact. heathers. star wars. gen v. the boys. scream. yellowjackets. scott pilgrim vs the world + takes off. twisted wonderland. the sandman. blue-eyed samurai. mortal kombat. obey me!. twtptflob. deadly class. the lost boys. invincible. john wick. jjk.
fav characters ¡! ❞
lute. striker. crimson. hobie brown. neteyam. john constantine. jason todd. selina kyle. conner kent. bruce wayne. jacaerys velaryon. aegon ii. daeron targaryen. daenerys targaryen. cersei lannister. robb stark. viserys iii. maegor targaryen. finnick odair. haymitch abernathy. coriolanus snow. jason grace. luke castellan. piper mclean. tom riddle. regulus black. william afton. mike schmidt. alhaitham. neuvillette. jason dean. heather chandler. anakin skywalker. cate dunlap. sam riordan. homelander. soldier boy. micky altieri. billy loomis. lottie matthews. jackie taylor. todd ingram. envy adams. leona kingscholar. malleus draconia. floyd leech. morpheus. mizu. mileena. johnny cage. bi han. satan. mammon. belphegor. dion agriche. jeremy agriche. marcus lopez. paul. dwayne. john wick. nolan grayson. mark grayson. marquis de gramont. gojo saturo. geto suguru. sukuna ryomen.
60 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m having a bit of bill skarsgård brain rot, lmaooo. Can you do a yandere alphabet for the marquis from John wick
Yandere Alphabet - Vincent de Gramont
TW: Yandere themes, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Arguments, Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced-Marriage, Spankings as Punishment, Overprotective Vincent, Controlling Vincent
A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!
Gif Credit: @mndvx
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Vincent's love languages are gift giving and acts of service. He's used to money and connections being the answer for everything and that includes how he shows his affections for you. It would be very intense, he would practically shower you in riches if you allowed him. Whatever you wanted was yours and he has the means of making it happen.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Vincent is all about efficiency. Whatever directly concerns his darling, he would need it to be handled immediately with little to no waste, effort, or energy. He would have his men handle it or deal with it himself, it depends on the situation. He dislikes messes, however, if someone were to kidnap you, harm you, or touch you, it would be a different story.
If you were harmed, he would return it ten-fold. Remember the scene between him and Nobody with a knife to the hand? Yes, he's willing to get messy for that. If his men are handling it, he would watch and enjoy it.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Once abducted, he would treat you like royality, since you're his sweet darling. No, he wouldn't mock you because that's childish in his eyes. He understands it is a difficult situation, but he would expect you to adapt sooner rather than later. He can only be patient for so long.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
There are many things he wouldn't allow you to do with the sole purpose of protecting you. You'll have to ask for his permission for many of these things, but he isn't unreasonable. If you want to go shopping, take a walk, there's must always be someone with you. You'll either be escorted by him or his men when he's busy. Your privacy will become nonexistent.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Vincent would be closed off in the beginning, he would need to trust you completely before he can open his heart to his darling. However, once he trusts his darling completely, he will open up about many things, however he will keep things from you. For instance, he wouldn't want his darling involved with his "occupation" and the things he's done. His vulnerability is strong when he completely trusts you, he's not against telling you his feelings.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Vincent can be patient and might even find his darling fighting back amusing. However, that patience can slip away very easily if the fighting persists. He would feel somewhat betrayed from his darling's behavior. He risked your safety to have you in his life and home and this is how you repay him?
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
No, this is not a game to him and he takes it very seriously. Again, he risked your safety to have you in his life, the risk of someone using you against him. He may find his darling trying to escape humorous during the first few attempts, but it would be in your best interest to quit. He won't find it humorous anymore.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
His darling's worst experiences with him would be his outbursts and controlling behavior. Vincent's patience only goes a certain way until he explodes. Fighting against him would result in him yelling at you angrily and breaking things. For example, when Vincent broke his phone after speaking with Nobody. I believe that Vincent would break things when he's angry or overstimulated enough.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
Vincent wants to experience everything with his darling. His darling is his significant other, therefore he envisions marrying his darling and having children to continue the next generation. He'll force you to marry him if he has to.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
He can be extremely jealous, however it is not because of insecurity. He doesn't like anyone thinking they have a chance with his darling without going through him first. He doesn't need to cope being the Marquis, he can have that person killed if he wanted and it will happen. Yes, he will lash out in his own way.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
He's extremely protective and affectionate with his darling. He can be charming when he wants, hand kisses, arm around the waist, gentle caresses, he will do it all for his darling. His darling always has his attention, even if he's busy. If you're on his good side, it's all romantic.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Vincent would do things behind the scenes, make his darling think they have a secret admirer, which is true. He would secretly send you romantic letters and expensive gifts. He would have his men secretly follow you around and get information to bring back to him. He wants to learn everything about you and prepare before abducting you.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Absolutely, Vincent would be completely different with others compared to his darling. His darling is the only one that gets the sweet side of him while he remains aloof with others.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
He would take away rights everytime you go against him. For instance, you would no longer be allowed to leave the mansion anymore, no matter how many times you try to appease him. He would need to see improvement first. Plus, he's not against putting his darling over his knee and spanking you until you're red.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
He would take away some rights from his darling and his darling would need to have his approval for things. For instance, you're not allowed in the kitchens or leaving the mansion without him or a bodyguard and your personal belongings are always monitored. For your protection of course ❤️
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
Well, he would have a little more patience with his darling than with others. He'll let his darling off easily the first few times, but it would quickly change because he would assume that his darling is being ungrateful and disrespecting him and his wishes.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
Absolutely not. Vincent would never be able to move on if something happened to you. If you died, he would remain heartbroken for the rest of his life. If you escape, that'd a different story, you will return to him.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
He would never feel guilty for kidnapping his darling and it never crossed his mind that what he did was wrong. He has individuals killed for a living, kidnapping his darling wouldn't be any different. He would simply try to make you understand that what he did was necessary. He would never let his darling go, you would have to kill him first.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
I would assume his childhood and the things he deals with as the Marquis. He's used to having everything he wants, call him spoiled.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Vincent would feel disappointed about your behavior, especially when this is a reoccurring problem. However, he still loves you and would want to fix this as soon as possible. He would try to comfort you as much as he knew how. If you were upset about being restrained to the mansion, he'll take you outside. He would explain to you that this was only for your protection and he only wanted the best for you.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Vincent isn't sadistic, at least towards his darling and values their feelings. He actually likes communication, you can be open with him about anything because he prefers your honesty than lying and disobeying him.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
He's used to getting what he wanted and gaining his complete trust would give his darling advantages. He would let his darling have more privileges and his darling can use that in an effort to escape. However, his trust is a long process so you'll need to play the waiting game. Be obedient and docile and you'll have him eating from your palm.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
No.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
He absolutely loves his darling and willing to do anything for them. He'll buy anything you want if it meant gaining your affections. He has money and connections, he'll make it happen.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
He'll pine for his darling for a few months, gaining information on them and preparing his home for his darling's arrival before he snaps. Whenever he wants something, he has to have it soon or now. Again, he's spoiled.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Yes, he would.
Spam Liking w/o Reblogging = Blocked
Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bloodywickedvamp @daddy-issues-99 @kirishimasfiance @bigcreatorwombatdreamer
#marquis de gramont#vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont#john wick#john wick franchise#john wick series#john wick fanfiction#john wick fanfic#john wick headcanons#vincent de gramont x reader#yandere!vincent de gramont x reader#yandere vincent de gramont x reader#john wick imagines#john wick x reader#yandere!john wick x reader#john wick x g/n!reader#yandere john wick x g/n!reader#john wick x y/n#yandere john wick x y/n#john wick x you#yandere john wick x you#yandere john wick#yandere#male yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere alphabet#bill skarsgard#john wick 4#john wick chapter 4
456 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yan!Husband Henry VIII Headcanons (Romantic)
❝ 👑 — lady l: This has been in my draft for a while but I decided to finish it now lol. Hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes. ❤️🧡
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, toxic relationship, mention of death perhaps.
❝👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader.
You had already dreamed of marrying a King, of becoming his Queen and giving birth to his heirs, a romantic fantasy that you and many other young women have dreamed of. They were mere fantasies of romance that you made up, but never really thought it would happen or become the obsession of one of the most infamous Kings in the history of England.
Your dreams remained as they were, dreams of a young lady. The King of the country where you lived was already married, so there wasn't much chance of you marrying him. Your family was of noble enough origin and had considerable wealth, but nothing too extravagant.
Until your older sister's marriage to a powerful man, close to the King. With that, your family immediately moved to the English Court, excited about their new status. Your father was particularly eager to marry you off to a powerful man as well.
Henry was dissatisfied with his wife, Anne, she had failed to conceive the much-desired male heir he so desperately wanted. His wandering eyes began to wander to the young women of the Court and when he laid eyes on you, he knew you would be the one to give him what he wanted.
Henry's captivating gazes seemed to follow you wherever you went and it began to unnerve you. A hint of excitement perhaps, but you knew it was a dangerous game to get involved with the King, especially when he was married.
Your parents were immensely happy with the King's interest in you. If you became his mistress, it would bring benefits and riches to your family. And when Henry got tired of you, you could perhaps marry a man with a noble title. Maybe a Duke or a Marquis.
But you didn't want to be his mistress or anyone's mistress. You wanted a husband and not a mere toy that he could always discard later. Your resistance angered your parents but attracted Henry even more. Your rejecting him has stirred him up, and bewitched him even more. Whenever you were in a room, Henry's eyes would be on you.
All of Henry’s attention was on you and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He didn't even try to hide his affection for you, he sent you gifts and letters constantly. You reciprocated, sending him letters in return, but always remaining firm in your convictions.
Before long, Henry was deeply in love with you and quickly got rid off his current wife, Anne. When he asked you to marry him, shortly after his separation from Anne, you hesitated but accepted. You would finally become his and his alone.
Once you were married, Henry became more possessive than ever. He already didn't like the looks other gentlemen gave you, but now that you were officially his, it would be considered a crime of treason. And we know how he deals with betrayal.
You were his perfect Queen, so sweet and so, well, perfect. Henry makes a point of reminding you of that every day, about how perfect you were for him. He really was in love, so he kept on your side the whole time. His eyes remained only on you.
Henry truly values you and your opinion. It is not a custom, but he would be willing to listen to your wishes and political opinions (if you have any) on matters of state. You are his Queen, after all. If it was your wish, if you were Catholic, Henry could even try to restore Catholicism in England.
He really loved you, maybe not in the conventional way, but he did. Henry would listen to your wishes, fulfill them and all he wants in return is his love. He will not tolerate people speaking ill of you and will condemn anyone who does so for treason.
Henry would be loyal to you, he would take care of you until your death. He wants to have children with you, a family, a male heir, but he also wants to be with you. He could be himself and not the King of England.
And when you finally gave him his long-awaited male heir, Henry knew he would never let you go or let anything happen to you. After all, you are his wife and his Queen. And Henry doesn't handle treason very well.
#yandere history#yandere historical characters#history#the tudors#yandere the tudors#yandere henry viii#yandere Henry VIII x reader#yandere henry viii headcanons#henry viii x reader#headcanons#yandere headcanons
648 notes
·
View notes
Note
Please do talk about the Marquis, all plot bunnies, how an eventual relationship with him would turn out. Any thoughts are most anticipated! 👀
FR?????????????? okay!
so i'm currently working on patron of the arts, a marquis de gramont x artist!reader fic where he is an art patron/cultural sugar daddy who is horrendously down bad for you, an artist in their flop era. i'm making an hc post for it over at my writing sideblog [@marielserif] so if anyone's interested 👀 i'll post it some time next week!
pairing: marquis de gramont x reader
note: i think i made him unbearably ooc. whatever
warnings: some mature themes/content; unedited; not an entirely healthy relationship (vincent has issues!!!!!!)
general relationship hcs
side note: these hcs operate under the assumption that the reader is unaware of his work.
i am deeply fascinated by yandere stuff, so every time i think of marquis de gramont, i can't help but sprinkle a bit of obsessive yearning on his part (because i honestly think he's the type to do so! he chased john wick all over the world! that should be me!). he is ruthless, ambitious, and determined, and i think this, too, translates into how he deals with his relationships.
i think that he's the type to fall hard for someone, but is also the type to deny the feeling initially, trying to stamp it out of his brain as hard as he can, constantly pretending that he is unaffected by you. he does not need you. he wants you. he has lived through most of his life without your presence, surely he can live through more.
his dedication to denying his feelings leads him into a great number of sticky situations: perhaps he dismisses you a bit too much, and it puts a significant strain on your relationship. he might even end up with you hating him.
he is used to being feared. he is used to being hunted. but he will never get used to the feeling of your hatred, so that could easily force him to act on his feelings before he makes things worse. it is a wake up call for him: he does not want to lose you because of his own pride.
good for you!
when the marquis is in it, good god, he is in it.
i think that marquis de gramont is an incredibly selfish man. if he loves you, you become an extension of himself — and in turn, he will ensure your safety and your joy. you deserve it. you're his.
he's a patron of the arts — he'll get along with you better if you have some appreciation for art and culture. your conversations with him will be longer, too, and sometimes more heated. vincent is very opinionated, and he'll defend his opinions to the death. he'll take you to museums, renting out entire scenic cultural hotspots just for you (and him) to enjoy at your own pace. he is prone to over-explaining when he is excited, so expect that you'll be doing a lot of listening.
if he senses that you're actually listening to him and he's feeling particularly generous, he'll reward you. you know what that entails.
there are times where you're feeling tired, and you're just not in the mood to listen to him ramble about his least favorite painting in the musee d'orsay. he does not fault you for it, but you feel the mild disappointment radiating off him in waves. you'll have to...make it up to him somehow.
he'll appreciate it very much.
anyway, vincent will take you to the ballet, dress you in the finest of things, and take you to the swankiest of establishments. you deserve nothing but the best.
if you inform him that you are uncomfortable with being spoiled like this, he will try to tone it down a little. the code word here is try. he will go back to sending you swarovski-embellished fountain pens in two weeks.
despite this, he's not above accompanying you to places like gas stations or grocery stores. sure, he'll take at least three bodyguards with him to ensure your safety, but he'll be there for you. he's capable of being normal!
(forgot to mention that vincent de gramont is territorial and overprotective at times. what's the use of all of his power if he can't use it protect the one he loves?)
(his brand of protection can feel almost like a prison at times. you'll have to clearly communicate with him about what you want, and you have to be very firm with him if you don't want to feel like you're a bird in a gilded cage. you have to make sure that he knows you won't just take it.)
(you need a backbone to love him. that's the truth of it all.)
vincent is also touch-starved, though he denies this constantly.
he can be an incredibly greedy kisser. he kisses you like he's starving, and he'll hold you like you'll turn into dust if he lets go.
he can be gentle, too — easy does it, and he takes it as slow as you want. languid, lazy, like you have all of the time in the world.
he's also a horrific tease. he's a smug bastard. he'll do everything except kiss you — he'll bite your earlobe, let his lips travel to your pulse, and kiss the corners of your lips. when you whine, he'll pull away with that smirk of his, and leave you to your racing heart. you're flustered as hell, and he looks unaffected by it.
(it's a lot harder for him to keep his composure if you're the one teasing him.)
he reaches out for you in his sleep, even if he is alone. a tired vincent will always reach out for you, no matter what stage of sleep he's in. in his sleep, he'll end up wrapping himself around your entire body like a boa constrictor no matter your size. one time, he fell asleep on top of you, and you had to elbow him awake because he was suffocating you.
(he owns a weighted blanket for when you're not around.)
if you play with vincent's hair, he will complain about you messing up the handiwork of his treasured coiffeur, but he won't say a word. when you pull your hands off his hair, he'll actually whine, and place your hands back. you have to clear your schedule if you want to play with his hair; he will not let you out of his presence until he's dead asleep.
if you really want to see a very stressed vincent, you can deny him your touch for weeks on end. but why would you do that? 😊
he's prone to taking drastic actions to get what he wants. a desperate vincent de gramont is someone you do not want to meet; a desperate vincent de gramont gets results.
so god help those who will try to take you from him.
plot bunnies
i really need to finish this because i have a 7-page paper due in 42 hours
i desperately wanted to write a ballet dancer!reader x patron!marquis de gramont instead of an artist!reader but im going to be completely honest with you i have zero knowledge of the world of ballet and i would NOT be able to do the idea justice.
(your rival dancer goes missing because of your patron. you investigate. things do not go well.)
also another plot bunny: leverage!reader
the marquis keeps an eye on you as leverage over your father, who is under his employ. think caine and his daughter.
he threatens your safety to keep your father in line constantly — but he's grown fond of you, strangely. you have a harmless hobby. it is soothing to watch you work. he is not going to hurt you.
(vincent even has his men protect you from harm. their presence in the area deter would-be muggers. you do not know this.)
at one point, your father grows stubborn, and vincent has to take a very drastic measure to ensure his cooperation.
he kidnaps you. of course he does.
strange things happen.
assistant!reader! you are his faithful assistant, and you get hurt in the line of duty. oh noooo. what happens next??? :OOO
#marquis de gramont x reader#jw4#marquis vincent de gramont#hello anon thank u for sending me this ask 😭 i desperately want to talk about him more#you unlocked something in me#anon#so little MVDG fics im gnna be sick. i had to add to it! i had to!#even if i am terrible at writing!#vincentposting
350 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Love Too Dark (05)
The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader
Chapter 05: Dark And Primal
WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.
This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.
Story Masterlist
PREV : Chapter 04
NEXT : Chapter 06
Chapter Summary:
After enduring a little more of the Marquis' lust and receiving the compensation, she finally quit. But will that stop the Marquis de Gramont and his unhealthy fixation on her?
The next morning, Yn awoke as the light of dawn hit her through the curtains. She grimaced before she forced her eyes to open. The first thing she saw was the walls of a bedroom - deep burgundy, richly decorated with accents of golden trim. She glanced to see the bed she was lying on and finally registered in her head that the bed was the largest she had ever seen, with a thick mattress and comforter of the finest down, embroidered in intricate patterns of gold thread. The sheets were made of a delicate silken fabric, soft and inviting against her skin so that she felt like she was in heaven.
She looked down and realized she was naked and under the covers. She shifted and finally felt them - a pair of long arms with bulging veins wrapping around her waist from behind. It was at that moment she finally remembered everything that had transpired last night.
She took a glance over her shoulder and confirmed that last night was not a nightmare. The Marquis de Gramont was asleep and spooning her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist as if it was a very normal thing to do between them, when in fact, they hardly knew each other.
She carefully lifted his arms off of her and scooted away from him till she sat up on the edge of the bed. The dried semen, juices, and blood between her legs did not go unnoticed by her as she gazed at them with disbelief and slight horror. She then looked to the side, noticing more of these dried liquids smearing the bedsheets visibly.
She frowned, feeling disappointed and repulsed in herself for what happened last night. She felt sick and disgusted for being so weak and not fighting him that well. She believed she was partially at fault for allowing him to violate her.
But, one thing for sure, the Marquis was a demon in disguise, she thought. She was no longer a virgin; she had been corrupted and taken advantage of. She was used by him like a cock-sleeve by a ruthless man. The worst part was she knew that she had enjoyed most of it, orgasmed at least three times, and it disgusted her.
However, she really abhorred that he had come inside her two times and he was so unapologetic about it. He did not even show any bit of remorse too after fucking her into the bed. She thought: Does he not care that he would get her pregnant? With his child? Wouldn't any typical rich man hate it if a commoner like her got pregnant by him?
She shook her head as she began to mull over her situation in her nakedness, disregarding the cold air brushing against her skin. The first solution she could think of was that she would run to the nearest pharmacy or healthcare store and buy the morning-after pill. She had heard that the pill could be effective if one takes it within 24 hours of unprotected sex, but it's not guaranteed.
She signed inwardly. She wished she wouldn't have to undergo this kind of issue. The mistake was having unprotected sex in the first place. No. The first, major mistake was having sex in the first place. But how could she avoid that when he... when the Marquis...
She glowered and shot a hateful glare at the sleeping man behind her before she gathered her wits and stood up, rising from the bed with shaky legs, and felt the carpet beneath her feet and the sheer impression of softness against the soles of her feet. The floor was of the finest polished wood and she felt like she was in a fine palace. She was naked and alone in an unknown place with a man she barely knew.
Moving her legs cause her to feel more of the dried juices in between her legs and she felt revolted yet again. She couldn't bear to put on her underwear and dress without washing them off, so she made the decision to look for the bathroom first.
Glancing around the bedroom, she searched for a door or pathway that might lead to the Marquis' personal bathroom. There's no way this room wasn't attached to its own bathroom, she thought.
She perceived a door other than the main door of his bedroom to the hallway. Inside the bathroom was a luxurious sight to look at. Cream walls and marble flooring shone in the light shining from the beautiful chandelier above. The jacuzzi was a deep, inviting pool of clear blue water. Besides that, there was a wide clear space with a modern ceiling shower attached above. There was a large, plush vanity with a full-length mirror, and counters lined with expensive toiletries. The room was filled with everything one would need for a home spa experience.
She was mesmerized by everything inside it until she felt yet again the dried semen dribbling from her sore pussy. She immediately grabbed several tissues and sat on the wall-hung toilet. After peeing, she used the water hose beside it to wash off the dried liquid between her inner thighs.
"Ugh!" she grunted as the cold water touched her sensitive skin. She winced and let it flow, washing the residue of the Marquis' ejaculation away.
Her fingers were delicate as they rubbed her private area with light, quick motions, cleaning the sore spot. She whimpered quietly while her hands cleaned her most private area, trying to forget what happened.
The water turned a pinkish hue as the cleansing water swirled around the toilet bowl. She cleaned herself up thoroughly, but there was only so much she could do when she could feel that some of them were still inside her pussy. She thought: She has to take a thorough shower if she wants to clean up as much semen as she could from inside her pussy.
But no. She could not take a shower in the home of the man who had taken her forcefully - who had to threaten her to get what he wanted. She knew in an instant that she had to get out of this place immediately and if possible, leave without waking up the Marquis.
She had just flushed the toilet when a familiar voice, thick with a French accent, enacted behind her, "Good morning."
She shrieked, swiftly turning around, covering her breasts with her arms and pinching her thighs together in an attempt to obscure her full nudity from the Frenchman. She felt her heart beat faster and faster in her chest, making her feel so vulnerable, as she stared up at the tall Marquis.
He stood tall and imposing in the doorway, blocking her escape. His body was accentuated by his toned arms which were folded over his bare chest. His dark eyes were smug and arrogant, as he looked down at her with a smirk. He appeared to be enjoying the heightened tension in the room, relishing in the power he held over her.
Yn then scowled at him which plainly showed she was angry and disgusted by him before she headed straight for the sink to wash her hands. She remained in silence, not giving him any response to his greeting. Now that he had awoken, she decided to just get out of the mansion with her promised 50 thousand dollars.
"I take it you slept well?" he asked, his voice telling her he still had that smug smile on his face.
He did not show an ounce of remorse for what he did to her and that made her feel even more angry and disgusted. She splashed some cold water on her face, trying to freshen up her face, when the Marquis spoke up, "Why are you in such a rush? We have all the time-"
Yn whirled around sharply to look him in the eye - despite the intimidating height difference between them - and said with a firm tone, "I'm going home. I have done my part and the deal is settled. Now give me my 50k."
The Marquis let out a brief laugh as though it was amusing to watch her like that. He replied, "Don't be hasty, ma lapine. I've asked my chef to prepare breakfast for us."
Yn's eyes blew wide, knowing this was his tactic to get what he wanted. She almost instantly answered back, "I'm not hungry. I am leaving now!"
She stormed towards him, intending to brush past him and exit his lavish bathroom. However, just as she was about to reach him, one of his hands suddenly rose to flick a switch on the wall next to the door.
In an instant, the ceiling shower inside a wide empty space inside the bathroom turned on. Yn halted in her tracks and glanced at it while the Frenchman stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Once she cast her eyes back on him, he pointed towards the shower and said, "We can't let you go home in that state."
"I'm not staying any longer," stated Yn with a firm voice, slowly feeling agitated that he did not listen to her or at least give an effort to understand her.
The Marquis slowly stepped closer, his dark eyes never leaving hers as he said, "I was not asking."
Suddenly, he grasped her arm and yanked her with him towards the running shower. Yn immediately struggled against his grip but her feet ended up skidding across the floor as the Marquis never relent or at least loosen his hold on her.
Meanwhile, Sydney had woken up as usual and came out of her bedroom to search for what she always looked for first thing in every morning - her big stepsister, Yn. However, after scouring the living room and the kitchen of their dingy apartment, she gloomily dragged her legs towards the couch in the living room where Barbara was sound asleep.
"Wake up! Wake up!" the little girl cried out.
Even Rosie, their cat, had come into the scene and meowed at the babysitter. Sydney continued wailing at the babysitter, hoping she would wake up any moment now. She was in too much of a dreary mood, especially after she found out that her sweet, big stepsister still had not yet returned.
Soon enough, Barbara slowly stirred awake and drearily opened her eyes. After seeing the small child leaning over her, she let out a small yawn and drawled, "Is Yn back already?"
"No!" the little girl cried out. "She's still not here!"
Barbara searched for her smartphone which happened to be pressed into the couch beneath her bum. She unlocked the phone and noticed that Yn still had not replied to any of her messages. That got Barbara concerned about her cousin, yet she still remained calm since she did see Yn going out in a pretty dress.
Barbara told her, "She's gonna be fine, Syd. Do you have school today?"
Sydney nodded, "Yeah."
Barbara glanced at the time in her gadget and asked, "What time does the school start?"
"Eight-thirty."
In Barbara's phone, the time was 8:15 in the morning.
Barbara suddenly shot up from the couch and began to blabber about the little girl being late for school and whatnot. She sent Sydney to the shower and began to muse. She knew she couldn't prepare breakfast in time for her so she decided that they could buy some sandwiches on their way to school.
Meanwhile, back to Yn...
Obscene noises of moans, groans, and wet slapping of skin against skin erupted from the bathroom of the Marquis de Gramont. The man was having his way with Yn in the shower, fucking her deep and rough under the endless shower, uncaring that he had forced himself on her. He smirked as he towered over her. His powerful arms held her legs in the air, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her against the shower wall with his body.
Yn felt helpless as she was held in the air and pinned to the wall. Her heart raced, her breathing coming out in short, shallow gasps. Despite her mind screaming for her to get away, her body could not escape from the insatiable lust of the Marquis. The man had her wrapped in a tight grip that seemed impossible to break free from. She felt powerless and trapped between the wall and the beast that was possessing her body for his own pleasure.
The Marquis seemed to take pleasure in seeing the fear in her eyes and he continued to thrust into her harder and faster with each passing second. She whimpered in pain and pleasure as she started to push her hands against his chest, signaling him to stop. The man seemed relentless as he kept pushing himself onto Yn's body, forcing himself deeper and deeper into her until she felt like she would break apart any moment soon.
The pleasure she had initially felt was quickly replaced by aching exhaustion from being constantly pounded against the wall by his cock like she was a mere fucktoy to him. Tears stung at her eyes but she refused to let them fall - she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how broken she was feeling at this moment.
Their skin and hair were utterly drenched under the running ceiling shower. The steamy water from the shower continued to cascade on their bodies, the heat radiating off of them as the Frenchman held her to his liking. Yn's body ached and her strength seemed to have left her; making her lay there and let the man take his pleasure from her. But then he suddenly stopped, and Yn felt relieved that it had all ended - until he started to grope her body, exploring every inch of her skin with a possessive caress.
She tried to push his hands away, but he held her tight against him. His hands wandered around her curves as if mapping out his property and claiming it for himself. She gasped at the sensation, feeling completely violated at this moment.
But then he started to kiss her. His lips were rough and demanding against hers, his tongue exploring every corner of her mouth with a passionate intensity that demanded a response from her own body.
And before she knew it, he pressed her firmer into the wall, ramming balls deep, as he climaxed inside her under the shower head. Skin against skin, their slick bodies, and bare nipples slid together as he explored her with open mouths and yearning hands. She could feel his warm seed filling her womb in large spurts. Every touch seemed like a possessive caress as the man held Yn close to him while his hands held her ass to keep her upright against the wall.
Two minutes had passed and he tenderly let go of her, letting her stand on her feet before he withdrew. Yn felt her legs turn to jelly and she slowly collapsed onto the floor, completely spent and used. Embarrassment crept up on her as she scrambled to cover herself with her arms, desperate not to be left exposed in this state of shame despite how he had just used her like a fucktoy.
"My apologies, ma lapine. I could not resist," the Marquis spoke up, the apology seemed sarcastic and mocking. It was crystal clear that he was not feeling remorseful at all for keeping her in the shower and taking advantage of her. He added, "We have to take the shower again and get ready for breakfast."
Yn wanted to protest. She wanted to shout at him, hit him, or yell at him. But the strength she had felt during the forced intercourse upon her was gone and she felt too tired to even form a coherent thought anymore. Her body was sore in places. Her skin felt tender from the way he had used her. Her mind was still flooded with thoughts of disgust and humiliation.
The Marquis ended up lifting her from the floor by the arm and washed her body with bubbly soap willingly. It's as if they were both a married couple. He even took care of her hair with what appeared to be a unisex shampoo.
When it came to drying themselves off, Yn did it herself and was quick to dress up, wanting to obscure her nudity from his eyes as soon as possible, fearing that he would get aroused and force himself on her again.
The Marquis de Gramont appeared to be completely unaffected by their earlier activities. He showed her a smile - one of satisfaction and confidence - and looked entirely composed and ready for the day while he sat across from Yn at the dining table.
On the table was a variety of fine French breakfast dishes. There were croissants, jams, jellies, and other sweet treats to start the day off. There were also savory dishes like omelets, bacon, sausage, and ham. An array of fruits was laid out in a colorful fashion to bring color to the table. There was a variety of freshly brewed coffee and tea, with cream and sugar to get the day started. Everything looked warm and inviting, and there was an air of elegance in the way it was all laid out.
Yn ate with no appetite, but she forced herself to eat as she needed the energy to start her day. Her mind raced with questions and confusion. She had been promised $50,000 by the Marquis de Gramont, but the events that had unfolded in the past few minutes made her doubt his sincerity. He had the tendency to do whatever he wanted regardless of the other person's consent. She feared he would do the same to the deal they made and break it.
Gathering her courage, she mustered the strength to break the uncomfortable silence. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "Umm, sir... you had promised me 50k dollars. What about that?"
The Marquis paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on Yn, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing on his lips.
"Ah," he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance, "Do not worry. I am a man of my word. You will receive your payment, as promised."
He suddenly raised one hand into the air and flicked his fingers with one loud snap. Chidi came into the scene and approached Yn. He stood beside her and placed a thick envelope on the table. As if to ensure it was not another scheme of his, Yn grabbed it and checked the content.
$50,000 was indeed inside the envelope. She inwardly exhaled a long breath of relief. When she looked up at the Marquis de Gramont, he was smiling as if he was amused at how distrustful she was about him.
"Had you given in without resistance, I would have given you double the amount," he said, smugly.
"What?" Yn blurted out, shocked beyond belief and incredulous.
"I'm joking," the Marquis said while chuckling at his own joke.
"But why?" Yn asked, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "Why did you do that to me? Why do you seem so... focused on me... when there are other girls who would do anything to entertain you?"
The Marquis' face lit up with amusement and admiration, his eyes twinkling as he studied Yn, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.
"Yn," his smirk widened as he spoke her name as if relishing in her vulnerability, "There are things about you that have captured my attention. There is a certain quality, an essence, that sets you apart from the others."
Yn's brows furrowed in both curiosity and suspicion. She couldn't comprehend what the Marquis found so compelling about her, especially when there were countless other women who would love to have his attention, like Sabrina from the casino, for example. Yn was certain that the Marquis also knew of Sabrina's lust for him, but he seemed to disregard her or did not reciprocate it.
Nevertheless, Yn chose to ignore the Marquis' mysterious fascination with her. With this 50 thousand dollars of cash in her hand, she could finally quit the casino for good. But first, she had to do a couple more things to make sure she was good to quit.
Eager to start her day, Yn stared the Marquis directly in the eye and stated, "I have to go. I really should be leaving now."
The Marquis stared at her a while longer with an unreadable look on his face. His eyes still held that glinting fascination for her. It's like he was cherishing the picture he was viewing before it was gone. Yn was donning her previous, same dress. She was insistent on wearing it again despite his offer to wear something else she could find from his wardrobe.
"Of course," he finally spoke with a half-smile, "I am sure you have much to do. My best bodyguard, Chidi, will send you home in my limousine."
Yn got up from the table slowly, her eyes still fixated on the Marquis de Gramont as if expecting he was this insatiable beast that would pounce on her over the table again. But he simply smiled and stood up in a relaxed manner. He began to lead her to the entrance of the mansion and told her, "I wish I could take you back home myself, but I have a duty that needs my attention elsewhere."
The both of them followed Chidi out of the mansion where numerous bodyguards lined up from the main door to the limousine parked by the road. Yn stepped out of the mansion, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. She had just received the promised cash from the Marquis, and yet, she still couldn't help but feel a bit wary of him. He had this aura about him that made her feel like he could twist every word to get what he desired.
Yn took slow breaths, hoping to control her racing heart as she passed each guard. Once they reached the car, Chidi opened the door for her. She was about to sit down inside it when the Marquis halted her by speaking up, "We will see each other again at the casino, Yn. Perhaps tonight."
His voice was smooth and filled with a certain promise that made her heart squeeze. She looked up to meet his gaze and felt her skin erupt with goosebumps as she saw the intensity in his eyes.
"Until then," he said before he stepped closer to her.
That was when he leaned his head closer to hers. Yn's eyes blew wide as she perceived that he was intending to kiss her on the lips. She swiftly turned her head to the side, causing him to brush his lips against her cheek.
Yn quickly spun around and practically jumped into the limousine, eager to escape from the Marquis' presence. She took a shy peek at the man and noticed that he was pursing his lips, his right eye twitched in silent anger, as he kept his silent yet fiery gaze on her figure inside the vehicle.
Chidi glanced at his master, still holding the door open. With his eyes locked on her, the French aristocrat nodded to his loyal bodyguard. Chidi then shut the door to the limousine before he walked to the driver's seat, sat inside, and started up the engine. Yn looked away in slight fear and cast her eyes to her hands which were gripping the envelope of cash.
The limousine finally drove away from the mansion. It moved slowly through the streets, past tall buildings and busy roads until it reached the city. It was then Chidi first spoke to her, "Where is your home, miss?"
Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much she could trust Chidi. She didn't want to reveal the location of her humble apartment, as she valued her privacy and safety. The casino seemed like a safer option, a familiar place where she could go home from there.
"I would prefer to be dropped off at the casino, please," Yn replied, her voice steady but cautious.
Chidi's brows furrowed as he glanced at her through the rearview mirror. He seemed torn between following her request and fulfilling his duty to ensure her safety.
"Miss, it would be best I drop you off at your home," Chidi insisted, his tone gentle yet firm. "It is my duty to see that you arrive safely."
Yn's heart raced as she weighed her options. She didn't want Chidi to know where she lived, but she also didn't want to raise any further suspicions. Finally, she decided to lie.
"Okay," Yn relented, forcing a nervous smile. "Drop me off at the Silver Crest Apartments."
Chidi nodded, accepting her answer. He adjusted his course, maneuvering through the city streets toward the designated area. Yn stared out the window, her mind racing with both relief and anxiety. She hoped her lie would be enough to protect her privacy.
As the limousine pulled up near the apartment complex, Yn thanked Chidi and stepped out of the vehicle. She watched as the car slowly and hesitantly drove away. It's like Chidi wanted to watch if the apartment was really her home. Her eyes lingered on its retreating form until it disappeared from sight, finally making her feel safe and away from any trace of the Marquis de Gramont.
However, she was not at peace yet. She glanced at every direction in the crowded city before she began to rush off to her next destination - the pharmacy.
Yn's heart raced as she stepped into the nearest pharmacy, her mind still reeling from the fact that the Marquis had come inside her many times and that her getting pregnant was possible. She approached the counter, her eyes scanning the aisles for the packaging of morning-after pills.
The pharmacist, a kind-faced woman with a warm smile, greeted Yn and asked if she needed any assistance. Yn mustered a shaky smile and requested the morning-after pills, trying her best to appear calm despite the turbulent emotions churning within her.
The pharmacist nodded understandingly and retrieved the requested pills from behind the counter. As she handed them to Yn, her gaze turned sympathetic.
"Would you also like to consider using birth control pills?" the pharmacist gently inquired. "They can offer additional protection and peace of mind."
Yn hesitated, her mind filled with conflicting thoughts. She had never considered using birth control before, but the recent events had left her feeling vulnerable and unsure of what the future might hold. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded and decided to take the pharmacist's advice.
"Yes, please," Yn replied softly. "I'll take a pack of birth control pills as well."
The pharmacist smiled warmly, appreciating Yn's decision. She retrieved a pack of birth control pills and placed it alongside the morning-after pills on the counter. Yn paid for the items, the weight of the situation becoming all too real as she watched the cashier process her purchase.
Leaving the pharmacy with the pills safely stowed in her bag, Yn felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. She knew that taking precautions was essential, given the circumstances she had found herself in. However, the decision to use birth control also served as a stark reminder of the control the Marquis had exerted over her body.
Determined to regain her agency, Yn walked briskly through the city streets, her mind focused on her next steps. She needed to find a safe place to regroup, gather her thoughts, and chart her path forward. And that was home. Her apartment.
She quickened her pace, navigating the busy sidewalks with ease, her thoughts consumed with the events of the past few days. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the memory of the Marquis's touch, the feeling of his hands on her skin, the way he made her... feel disgusted with her own body.
By boarding a bus, she arrived at her apartment as soon as she could. Once she entered her humble abode, she almost ran head-on into Barbara, her cousin. Both of them were astounded to see one another that they almost yelled.
"Barbara!" Yn said in surprise.
"Yn!" shouted Barbara, "Where were you, girl?! I called you many times! Spammed you with messages too! You didn't reply at all! I know you're getting dick but at least answer!"
Yn's brain almost shut down because of what her cousin said. She was flabbergasted that she asked in subtle disgust, "What?"
A naughty grin curved Barbara's lips and she said, "I saw you in your pretty dress yesterday. You had dinner with some guy, right? And then you got laid with him. Had some mind-blowing sex that you couldn't even answer your phone."
Yn began, "No, it was just-"
"And you came back with the same dress as yesterday!" Barbara pointed out, "You need to tell me the truth, sis! At least don't get me and Sydney worried!"
Upon hearing the little girl's name, Yn remembered instantly where she was supposed to be and she inquired instantly, "Sydney! Where is she?! Is she at school?!"
"Yes! I sent her and just came back here!" stated Barbara, "And don't change the subject, Yn! I want to know the guy you're hooking up with! Is he rich?! Oh wait, first of all, did you use protection?"
Again, she was reminded of another thing that she had to take care of immediately. With her hands holding the plastic of pills, she zoomed toward the bathroom. Barbara also followed her.
As Yn reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind them and leaned against the sink, her hands trembling. Barbara's concerned gaze met hers, and she immediately noticed the package of morning-after pills in Yn's hands.
Barbara approached her cousin, her expression filled with empathy. She gently reached out and took the package of pills, her eyes scanning the instructions printed on it.
"These are morning-after pills," Barbara explained softly. "They are most effective when taken as soon as possible after unprotected intercourse, preferably within 24 hours. Let's make sure we follow the instructions correctly."
Yn nodded, grateful for Barbara's support. She watched as her cousin carefully read the instructions, absorbing the information. After a moment, Barbara looked up, her voice steady and reassuring.
Barbara guided her the entire time, giving her instructions on consuming these emergency pills since she had experiences in this before. She continued, "Remember, these pills are intended for emergency use only. They are not meant to be used as a regular form of contraception. If you have any concerns, you should consult a healthcare professional."
Yn nodded, grateful for Barbara's guidance and the accurate information she provided. Together, they carefully followed the instructions, ensuring that Yn took the pills correctly.
After taking the morning-after pills, Yn felt a sense of relief wash over her. She knew that she had taken the necessary steps to protect herself and minimize the risk of an unplanned pregnancy.
Barbara stood by her side, offering a comforting presence. "You did the right thing, Yn. If you have any questions about this, just ask me. I'm here for you."
Yn's eyes filled with tears, gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Barbara. I don't know what I would do without you."
Barbara smiled, noticing how this issue was big for her cousin. She asked her, "Did you get birth control pills? We might as well take care of that too."
Yn nodded swiftly, "Yeah. Could you guide me on that too?"
"Oh, Yn, what kind of sex-positive cousin would I be if I don't help you with that," said Barbara before she guided her on the birth control pills as well.
After several minutes of discussion, Barbara was confident that Yn understood the proper dosage and frequency of taking the pills, as well as the risks of using them. After taking a deep breath and opening the pack of birth control pills, Yn carefully removed one pill and held it in her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. With Barbara by her side, she swallowed the pill and then took a sip of water to help it go down.
Once everything was done, Barbara couldn't help but lightly reprimand her, "But seriously, Yn. You had sex without protection? That is so risky."
Yn sighed. She did not want to tell Barbara that she got threatened with having sex with a man who turned out to be so influential in a foreign country - the Marquis de Gramont. In other words, he forced himself on her. She didn't want to tell anyone about that. What matters most was that she prevented a pregnancy, got a lot of compensation in return, and that she could finally handle the matter with her mother's medical bills.
Yn took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to respond to Barbara's question. She knew she couldn't share the full details of what had transpired with the Marquis, but she also didn't want to lie to her cousin.
"I made a mistake, Bar," Yn admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "I found myself in a situation where I... couldn't think clearly. Now, I just want to forget it."
Barbara's expression softened as she listened, understanding that there was more to the story than Yn could reveal. She reached out and squeezed her cousin's hand, offering her support and reassurance.
"I'm here for you, Yn," Barbara said gently. "I won't pry. Just know that you have me, okay?"
Yn smiled in gratitude as she looked at her cousin. Despite not knowing the full extent of what had happened, Barbara's unconditional support meant the world to her. It reminded her that she didn't have to face this alone.
Nodding her head to her, Yn told, "Thank you so much. And for everything. You helped me a lot with babysitting Sydney."
Barbara smiled back and replied, "She is such a joy to handle. Will you be working again tonight?"
Yn started to contemplate her options, realizing that with the substantial compensation she had received, she no longer needed to continue working at the casino. She could finally fulfill her responsibilities towards her mother's medical bills and provide a stable life for Sydney without having to rely on late-night shifts.
She turned to Barbara with a bright expression, eager to share her decision with her cousin, and said, "No. I won't be working tonight."
Barbara's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of concern and relief crossing her face. "Really? You've been working so hard to support Mom and Sydney. If it's about Sydney, don't worry! I can take care of her again tonight!"
Yn smiled wider and shook her head saying, "There's no need. I'm going to rest up tonight and spend more time with Sydney. But thank you for taking care of her all these times, Bar. I truly appreciate it."
Barbara's eyes lit up with understanding and a hint of relief. "That's great, Yn! You deserve some time to heal, and I'm sure Sydney will be thrilled to spend more quality time with you. Just let me know if you ever need my help again, okay?"
Yn hugged her cousin tightly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the support Barbara had provided. "Thank you, Bar. I'll definitely keep that in mind. Take care, and I'll see you soon."
After bidding her cousin goodbye, Yn took a moment to collect herself. She knew she had made the right decision to prioritize her well-being and her family. With renewed determination, she showered, got ready, and prepared to face the day ahead.
As she stepped out of her apartment, a sense of purpose guided her steps. She went to the nearest ATM to withdraw cash. Once she took enough money, she hailed a taxi and directed the driver to take her straight to the hospital. Today was the day she would finally pay off her mother's medical bills and ease the burden that had weighed on her shoulders for so long.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Yn approached the billing department with the envelope containing the funds she had saved up and also some funds she got as compensation from the Marquis. She felt a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, but above all, a bright hope.
"It's done!"
Before she knew it, the nurse from behind the counter was already grinning at her, placing documents and a small piece of paper on the table and sliding it towards Yn. The nurse started, "The payment is complete! Here are the documents for your record and this is your receipt, Miss!"
Yn stared wide-eyed at the documents before her, especially the receipt which plainly showed that the huge amount of money she had collected was accepted and was exchanged back to her in that tiny piece of paper. She couldn't help but ask the nurse again, "Then, my mom, will she...?"
Yn's heart raced as she eagerly awaited the nurse's response. The weight of her mother's condition and the hope of a possible treatment hung in the air. The nurse looked at Yn with a warm smile, understanding the significance of this moment for her.
"The payment has been received, Miss," the nurse said kindly. "We will now proceed with assessing your mother's current condition and determining the next steps. The doctor will evaluate her and determine if she is fit enough to undergo the surgery soon enough."
Relief flooded over Yn, mixed with a surge of nervous anticipation. She knew that the outcome was still uncertain, but the fact that she had fulfilled her part by paying the medical bills gave her a glimmer of hope.
The nurse continued, "We will need to conduct a thorough examination and perform some tests to assess your mother's overall health and suitability for the surgery. This will include checking her vital signs, reviewing her medical history, and possibly conducting diagnostic tests. Don't worry, miss. We will handle everything from now on."
Yn nodded, her emotions intertwined with anxiety and optimism. She understood that there were still challenges ahead, but having taken this crucial step and having taken off a huge burden of expensive medical treatment, she felt delighted and hopeful. She felt like she was on cloud nine.
"I hope everything goes well," Yn whispered, her voice filled with both gratitude and trepidation.
The nurse offered her a reassuring smile. "We will do our best, Miss. Our medical team is experienced and dedicated to providing the best care possible. For now, you may visit your mother while I notify the staff about the next step."
Yn nodded gratefully, appreciating the nurse's kind words and guidance. With a mix of nervous excitement and relief, she made her way to her mother's room. As she entered, her eyes fell upon her mother lying in the hospital bed, frail and weak. She was quick to notice her daughter and she greeted her with a weak smile, "Yn, my heart. You are here."
Yn approached her with a gentle touch, a mixture of love and concern evident in her expression. After taking a chair and sitting down next to the bed and holding her mother's hand, Yn stared at her with a loving yet relieved smile. Her mother was bewildered by the look she gave her, but she did not have to express her question because her daughter finally told her:
"Mom," Yn whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "I did it. I took care of the medical bills."
Her mother's eyes widened and a glimmer of hope flickered within them. It was then Yn noticed her energy rising back up as her mother began to sit up in the bed. Yn helped her, and once done, the older lady gawked at her with astonishment and elation. She was silent for a while as if she half-expected Yn to say it was a joke. But Yn kept smiling at her assuredly.
To Yn's surprise, tears brimmed her mother's eyes as she asked with a shaky voice, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Yn's smile became brighter and more confident. Her mother was now filled with excitement, her frail body shaking as she spread her arms toward her daughter. Yn knew what she wanted and instantly came forward, going into her mother's open arms and embracing her.
Her mother patted her as she squeezed her tighter lovingly. "You did it, Yn. I couldn't be more proud of you. Thank you. Thank you so much!"
Yn's eyes filled with tears as she held her mother tightly, feeling an overwhelming surge of love and relief. The weight of their struggles seemed to lift momentarily, replaced by a profound sense of accomplishment. She had completely let go of how some of the money she collected was actually compensation she got in exchange for her body to the Marquis. No. She did not have to worry about him now.
"Be strong now, mom," Yn whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I did it so that you could receive the care you deserve."
They pulled back and her mother nodded, her eyes still brimming with tears as she tried her hardest to not make them spill. She answered, "I will. What you did for me will not be wasted."
Her mother's hands cupped Yn's face as she looked into her eyes with unwavering love. Tears streamed down Yn's face as the mother asked, "Does Sydney know? She must be at school now, right?"
Yn shook her head and replied, "No. And yes, she's at school."
Her mother nodded with a warm smile and said, "Then I want to surprise her. By coming back home."
Yn's heart swelled with joy at her mother's words. The idea of surprising Sydney with their mother's return filled her with an immense sense of anticipation and happiness. A radiant smile spread across Yn's face as she imagined the sheer delight that would wash over Sydney when she saw her beloved mother waiting for her at home.
Laughter bubbled forth from both Yn and her mother, mingling with tears of relief and love. Their laughter danced through the hospital room, carrying with it a resounding symphony of triumph and gratitude.
Yn's heart swelled with determination as she focused on the future and the steps she needed to take to create a better life for herself and her family. She pushed aside the memories of her encounter with the Marquis de Gramont, choosing not to let it define her anymore. The compensation she had received, tainted though it may be, had served its purpose in securing her mother's medical treatment.
Now, with the medical bills paid and her responsibilities fulfilled, Yn knew it was time to move on from the casino job. She had endured enough. She did not have to see the Marquis again and it was time to prioritize her own well-being and seek a new path.
As she made her way back home from the hospital, a surge of determination coursed through her veins. Yn's mind raced with thoughts of her resignation letter. She knew it was necessary to formalize her decision and bring closure to that chapter of her life.
Upon arriving at her apartment, she wasted no time. Yn settled herself at her small desk, grabbed a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, and began to write. With each stroke of the pen, her words carried a sense of conviction and liberation.
In her resignation letter, Yn expressed her gratitude for the opportunity to work at the casino and the experiences she had gained. However, she firmly stated her decision to resign, citing personal reasons and the desire to pursue new avenues in her life. She kept the letter professional and concise, yet it resonated with her determination to reclaim her agency and forge a brighter future.
After carefully reviewing and signing the letter, Yn sealed it in an envelope. As she held the envelope in her hands, a weight lifted from her shoulders. Now she had to take care of another matter - How to send this letter without going to the casino?
The next thing she knew, she found herself standing before an unfamiliar door. After knocking, the door was soon opened from the inside and revealed Emily, her close friend from the casino. Emily was not as shocked to see since she had expected her. Yn had told her through texts that she would come by.
"Yn!" Emily smiled brightly and she immediately opened the door wider, "Come in! Your text surprised me!"
Yn returned Emily's smile gratefully, stepping inside the welcoming embrace of her friend's apartment. The air was filled with a sense of familiarity and warmth, a stark contrast to the high-energy atmosphere of the casino they had worked in together.
"Thank you, Em," Yn said, her voice laced with gratitude. "Sorry for surprising you like this."
Emily shut the door and replied, "Hey, it's okay. I'm actually excited to have you here. You've never been to my apartment, right?"
Yn chuckled, "No, I haven't."
"And I haven't been to yours," added Emily with a grin as she disappeared into the kitchen.
As Yn settled into a comfortable chair, Emily offered her a hot cup of tea. Yn accepted it gratefully, holding the warm cup in her hands and savoring the soothing aroma. She took a moment to compose herself before sharing her decision with Emily.
"I've been thinking, Em. I'm quitting my job at the casino," Yn stated firmly, her eyes filled with determination. "I've collected enough money for my mother's medical treatment."
Emily's eyes widened in surprise, but then her face lit up with admiration. "Yn, that's incredible! You did it! I'm so happy for you and your mom!"
Yn's smile grew wider as she felt the support and encouragement radiating from her friend. It was moments like these that affirmed her decision to leave the casino behind and embrace a new chapter in her life.
"I've written my resignation letter," Yn continued, reaching into her bag and retrieving the sealed envelope. "But I don't want to set foot in the casino again. Do you think you could help me deliver it to Mr. Malone?"
Emily's eyes sparkled with excitement as she enthusiastically took the envelope from Yn's hand. "Absolutely! Consider it done. I'll make sure it reaches his hand only, and you won't have to worry about a thing."
Relief washed over Yn as she entrusted her resignation letter to Emily. She knew that her friend would handle the situation with professionalism and discretion. With this weight off her shoulders, Yn felt like she was truly free. She felt her shoulders become much lighter.
"Thank you, Emily," Yn said, her voice filled with appreciation. "I will definitely miss you."
Emily smiled warmly, placing a hand on Yn's shoulder. "I'm so happy you got to quit the casino, Yn. And remember, even if you're not my colleague anymore, we're still friends, okay? Just text me whenever you want. Come over too!"
Yn chuckled lightheartedly and nodded, grinning at her close friend whom she could trust. Suddenly, Emily's smile dropped and she asked, "Oh, Yn, what about the Marquis?"
Yn's smile faded slightly as Emily mentioned the Marquis. She took a deep breath, her gaze focused as she considered her response.
"I don't want to dwell on him anymore, Em," Yn replied, her voice filled with determination. "I've made the decision to leave the casino, and with that, I believe I won't have to see him again."
"But..." Emily started, "I don't know. It seems like he likes you. By the way, I know."
Yn raised an eyebrow and quizzed, "Know what?"
Emily stared at her pointedly and revealed, "I know you went on a dinner date with him last night."
Yn did not respond as she turned her head to the side and mulled over. Emily continued, "Amelia told me. She told me, Sophia, and Emma. That the Marquis took you out after Amy tried to apologize to him. Something about you taking the consequences on her behalf. When Amy said you were all dressed up, we figured it was a date."
Yn's heart sank as Emily revealed that she knew about the dinner date with the Marquis. She felt a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, not wanting to disclose the truth about what had transpired between her and the Marquis.
"Yeah, a date... umm..." Yn was clearly feeling uncomfortable talking about the Marquis, and Emily noticed that. Yn added, "He did ask me like that. A dinner date with him and he would not fire Amy. That's all."
Emily observed the unease in Yn's voice and expression, realizing that there was more to the story than she initially thought. Sensing her friend's discomfort, Emily decided to tread carefully and respect Yn's boundaries.
"Hey," Emily replied gently. "You don't have to say more if you don't want to. I'm here for you, no matter what."
Yn's eyes met Emily's, filled with gratitude for her understanding. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief that Emily wasn't pressing for further details.
"Thank you, Em," Yn said, her voice tinged with vulnerability and appreciation.
"Yn!"
Yn turned around, disregarding the little kids dawdling around her, as she looked at the entrance of the preschool. There she saw Sydney skipping towards her with eagerness, her radiant grin was so infectious it caused Yn to smile widely as well.
Once Sydney reached her, the former effused, "Yn! You're here!"
"I'm here, Syd," Yn spoke up as she held out a hand for the girl, "Let's go home."
On the way to their apartment, Sydney - just as Yn expected - asked her, "Where were you this morning? I was scared you got taken by bad guys, sissy."
"Aw, Sydney," Yn lied, "I'm so sorry! I had too much fun with my friends last night and I fell asleep at their house."
"Oh," Sydney looked up at her with her wide, doe eyes of innocence, "Okay!"
That was all her young stepsister could say before she started chattering about what she had learned from preschool. Soon enough, they arrived in their apartment. Yn prepared a delicious lunch for herself and Sydney, their shared laughter filling the cozy apartment. The aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Yn couldn't help but feel a deep sense of fulfillment as she watched Sydney's eyes light up with excitement.
As they sat down at the table, Yn served the food and they began to enjoy their meal together. Sydney's animated storytelling and Yn's attentive listening created a bond that transcended the mundane, filling their small apartment with an undeniable sense of joy and love.
In the midst of their conversation, Sydney paused for a moment and looked at Yn with hopeful eyes. "Sissy, can we buy a new Barbie movie today? I'm tired of watching the same one all the time."
Yn smiled affectionately at her stepsister and replied, "Of course! We can buy a new Barbie movie. And you know what? I'll watch it with you tonight."
Sydney's eyes widened with surprise, her face glowing with delight. "Really, Yn? You'll stay at home with me tonight?"
Yn nodded, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose. "Yes, Syd. I will stay and I have a movie night with you. How does that sound?"
Sydney's joy was palpable as she clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Yay! I can't wait! It's going to be the best movie night ever!"
Yn couldn't help but share in Sydney's excitement, knowing that this simple act of being present meant the world to her young stepsister. It was a small but significant step towards rebuilding the bond they had lost during the difficult times.
After finishing their lunch, Yn made sure to give Rosie, their affectionate cat, some treats. The contented purring of the feline added to the comforting atmosphere, filling the apartment with a sense of peace and companionship.
As the afternoon stretched before them, Yn and Sydney engaged in various activities, painting pictures, playing games, and immersing themselves in imaginative adventures. The walls echoed with their laughter, filling the space with an undeniable sense of joy and love.
In the evening, as darkness descended, Yn prepared a cozy movie night setup. They snuggled up on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, eagerly awaiting the start of the new Barbie movie. Sydney's eyes sparkled with anticipation, while Yn's heart swelled with a profound sense of gratitude for this precious moment.
Together, they embarked on a journey of imagination and wonder, the colorful world of Barbie unfolding before their eyes. As they watched the movie, their shared laughter and whispered commentary filled the room, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness and connection.
At that moment, surrounded by love and the innocence of childhood, Yn realized that she had made the right decision. By stepping away from the casino job and prioritizing her family, she had found a newfound happiness and purpose that money could never buy.
As the movie played on, immersing Sydney in its enchanting world, Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. A lingering thought nagged at the back of her mind, reminding her that the life she had left behind at the casino might not be so easily forgotten. The ominous message from a certain Frenchman about consequences and haunting repercussions lingered in her thoughts.
Just as the tension was building within her, Yn's smartphone buzzed with an incoming call. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was Emily. She then stole a quick look at the wall clock and realized that Emily was supposed to be working at the casino at this moment.
With a quick apology to Sydney, she excused herself and stepped into her bedroom to answer the call, a sense of trepidation gripping her.
"Hey, Em," Yn greeted, her voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and concern. "What is it?"
Emily's voice on the other end of the line sounded urgent yet hushed, "Yn, sorry to disturb you but it's about the Marquis."
Yn's heart skipped a beat. She had hoped that leaving the casino and cutting ties with the Marquis would distance her from his influence. But now, it seemed that he had resurfaced in her life, bringing a wave of uncertainty and fear.
"What about him?" Yn asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Emily hesitated before responding, "He found out about your resignation from Mr. Malone. He's... not happy, Yn. He's quiet but... I saw his face."
Emily still had not finished but Yn immediately became pale as blood drained from her face. She stared into space as she remembered a flashback of what had occurred this morning. That time when she evaded his attempt to kiss her lips...
Yn quickly spun around and practically jumped into the limousine, eager to escape from the Marquis' presence. She took a shy peek at the man and noticed that...
Emily's voice continued from the other side of the call, "He was pursing his lips tightly."
He was pursing his lips...
Emily added, "His eye twitched and he just stood there."
His right eye twitched in silent anger, as he kept his silent yet fiery gaze on her figure inside the vehicle.
"I swear I felt his anger bubbling around him. It's eerie," ended Emily.
Yn felt her hands tremble slightly in fear and trepidation at the thought of the infuriated Marquis. She then balled them into fists to stop the tremble, but it was futile. That was when Emily appended, "Sophia noticed it too, and she wanted me to tell you to be careful. She has suspicion that the Marquis is involved in the underworld, and we don't know what he could do with his immense power and influence if provoked. Just let us know if you see any sign that he's stalking you."
Yn's heart sank at the revelation, a sense of dread creeping over her. She had always known that the Marquis was a dangerous man, but to have a notion that he was involved in the criminal underworld only added to her fear. She knew that she needed to be careful.
"Thank you for letting me know, Em. I'll be careful," Yn replied, her voice determined yet tinged with fear.
The phone call with Emily left her with a deep sense of unease. She couldn't shake off the image of the Marquis' angered face and the implications of his reaction to her resignation. Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach as she considered the dark possibilities that could unfold.
As the evening wore on, a foreboding silence settled over Yn's apartment. Sydney had drifted off to sleep after the movie, and Yn had tucked her into her bed. Shutting the TV and ensuring the locks were secured, Yn was allowed a moment to gather her thoughts.
A chilling silence hung in the air as Yn absorbed the gravity of the situation. She had hoped that by leaving the casino, she could sever her ties with the Marquis and find a safer path for herself that wouldn't damage her dignity anymore. But now, it seemed that she had only awakened a sleeping beast, a man consumed by anger... and revenge.
She began to ponder: Had she ever revealed her personal information to the Marquis?
When it comes to where she lived, she did not tell him an inkling at all, including Chidi who had sent her to the Silver Crest Apartments this morning, which was actually another apartment complex located a few blocks away from hers. So she was certain that at least the Marquis had no idea where her humble abode was. Perhaps Chidi had already given him false information about her living at some apartment.
Other than that, the Marquis did not know her phone number, unless he coerced Mr. Malone into giving him. She had to be prepared in case a mysterious caller contacts her phone in the future.
As the night grew darker, Yn couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Shadows seemed to dance menacingly outside her window, and every creak of the floorboards sent shivers down her spine. The air felt heavy with a sense of impending danger. She even went and double-checked the locks on every door and window, yet the fear persisted.
That sense of terror continued till the next morning and Yn did not sleep well because of it. She was on alert the whole night and morning that she couldn't get enough sleep, resulting in dark bags under her eyes. She had to wave off Sydney's concern when the little girl mentioned about it.
As the two of them left the apartment, Yn double-checked the lock again and went out of the apartment complex. That was when her fear and vigilance caused her to survey the surrounding and noticed a mysterious car parked outside the building, its dark-tinted windows concealing the identity of its occupants.
She became paled right away, feeling coldness surge through her body, as she gaped at the black car in horror. She couldn't take her eyes off of it as she wondered who was or were inside it. She even had a thought to confront it and make the occupants roll down their windows. But what if it's just some innocent people who were waiting for someone?
Yn ended up shielding Sydney from the car's view and walked faster to her preschool. After sending her off and ensuring she entered the building, Yn looked around again. This time, the car from before did not show up anywhere. She thought she was going crazy for suspecting anything as a trail of the Marquis.
She then boarded a bus to head for the cafe she worked the morning shift at. As the bus made its way through the city streets, Yn couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. She kept glancing over her shoulder, searching for any sign of the mysterious car she had seen earlier, but there was no trace of it. She told herself that she was being paranoid, that it was just her imagination running wild after the events of the previous night. But deep down, she knew that something wasn't right.
As Yn walked into the cafe, she was still feeling uneasy and kept glancing over her shoulder. Edric, her coworker who had a crush on her, immediately noticed her tired and anxious demeanor.
"Yn, are you alright?" he asked with a concerned look on his face.
Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not to confide in him. However, the events of the previous night and the mysterious car outside her apartment had left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. But it was a matter that couldn't be talked so easily to someone. She did not want anyone else to get dragged into this mess involving a powerful French aristocrat.
"I'm okay, Edric," she claimed, "I just... did not get enough sleep last night."
She could not help but once again look over her shoulder and outside the cafe's large windows, searching for any suspicious car parking outside the cafe ever since she came in.
Out of nowhere, a large hand landed on her shoulder unexpectedly, causing her to flinch with surprise and fear, as she gawked at the owner of the hand - Edric. He noticed the terror in her expression and was filled with more concern for her.
"Yn," he queried again, this time massaging her shoulder as a comforting act, "Are you really okay? You know you can tell me anything."
Yn took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She appreciated Edric's concern, but she couldn't burden him with the truth. It was too dangerous, and she didn't want to involve anyone else in this mess.
"I'm fine, really," she said, forcing a smile. "Just a little on edge today."
Edric eyed her skeptically, but he didn't push the matter further. Instead, he offered to make her a cup of coffee and told her to take a few minutes to sit down and relax before starting her shift.
As Yn sat at a small table, sipping her coffee, she couldn't shake the feeling of danger that loomed over her. She couldn't believe how much her life had changed in just a few days. She used to be a simple bunny girl in a casino with no worries other than saving money for her family and collecting money for her mother's medical treatments. But now, she found herself constantly looking behind her back in fear of a French aristocrat who had taken an unhealthy interest in her - who had taken her virginity mercilessly.
She took another sip of her coffee and closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. Soon enough, Yn tried to push her fears to the back of her mind and focus on her work. She greeted the regular customers with a smile and took their orders, all the while keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.
The next thing she knew, her morning shift ended and she was free to leave the cafe. Yn's heart pounded in her chest as she boarded the bus, her mind consumed by thoughts of the Marquis and the ever-present sense of being followed. She glanced out the window, scanning the passing streets for any signs of the mysterious car or the looming figure of the Marquis. But everything appeared normal, the city bustling with its usual activity.
As the bus neared the preschool, Yn's anxiety grew. She anxiously stepped off the bus and walked briskly towards the school, her eyes darting around, searching for any indication that the Marquis was closing in on her. The weight of fear settled heavily on her shoulders, making each step feel like an eternity.
Finally, she reached the preschool and hurried inside, her heart racing with a mixture of relief and trepidation. She found Sydney among the crowd of children, her bright smile a welcome sight that momentarily eased Yn's fears.
Yn and Sydney walked hand in hand toward their apartment building, their footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The weight of the day's events lingered in Yn's mind, her senses heightened, and her instincts on high alert. She couldn't help but feel a constant prickle of unease, a nagging presence that seemed to follow her every move.
As they approached their apartment door, Yn's eyes landed on the bouquet of tuberose flowers and the square-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates placed on the floor mat. Her breath caught in her throat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension surging through her veins.
Sydney's eyes lit up with excitement, tugging on Yn's hand as she pointed at the gifts. "Yn, look! Someone left us flowers and chocolates! How sweet! Did a prince drop by?!"
Yn's heart raced, and her mind flooded with questions. Who had left these tokens of affection? Was it a kind gesture from a well-meaning neighbor, or was it another calculated move by the Marquis to unsettle her? If that's the case, then that means the Marquis knew for certain where she lived through some means. This also meant that her home was at risk. She and Sydney were at risk.
With trembling hands, Yn picked up the bouquet of tuberose flowers, their delicate fragrance enveloping her senses and making her feel... odd. The fragrance caused her pussy to throb subconsciously, but she paid no mind to it. The white blooms stood in stark contrast against the somber darkness of the hallway, their beauty tainted by the weight of uncertainty.
Besides the flowers, the golden-wrapped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates beckoned, tempting yet foreboding. Yn's mind swirled with a mix of caution and curiosity. She couldn't help but wonder if this was a twisted message, a reminder that the Marquis had found out where she lived and that he still had power over her life.
Suppressing her unease, Yn put on a brave face for Sydney. "Yes, Syd, it seems someone has left us a surprise."
Sydney clapped her hands in delight, picking up the box of chocolates and shaking it enthusiastically, "Who is it? Maybe it's a secret admirer!"
Yn forced a smile, her mind racing with possibilities, none of them good. She knew that she couldn't take anything from this, not when the probability that the Marquis was involved was huge. The timing was too great. Her apartment door had never received gifts like this before. But she also couldn't let Sydney know how worried and alarmed she was.
"Open them, Yn! I want to eat the chocolates!" Sydney said, hugging the box of chocolates close to her body.
Once inside, Yn placed the flowers on a table and carefully opened the Ferrero Rocher box, tearing off the wrapping paper. Sydney was by her side, eyes glinting with excitement, and was eagerly awaiting her turn to devour it.
As Yn observed Sydney consuming the chocolates with no worries in her mind, her head raced with questions. Other than the Marquis, who could have left these gifts? And more importantly, what were their intentions? She was trying to look at this situation positively and try not to suspect the Marquis in everything but... If it's not him, then who?
As the hours ticked by, the apartment remained cloaked in an unsettling silence. Yn couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that invisible eyes were peering into her private sanctuary. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside, sent a shiver down her spine.
As night fell and Yn prepared Sydney for bed, the weight of the situation bore heavily upon her shoulders. She tucked Sydney in, ensuring her safety and comfort, all the while knowing that she couldn't let her guard down.
Yn couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, not even as she slipped into her own bed. The darkness enveloped her, and she could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing. She knew that she had to be vigilant, that she couldn't let her guard down even for a moment. Because if it was indeed the Marquis who was behind the gifts, then she was in grave danger.
The thought made her heart race, and she tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths. She closed her eyes and tried to picture a peaceful scene, but her mind kept going back to the Marquis and his endless games.
Suddenly, her phone beeped, causing her to jump in surprise. She picked it up from the nightstand, her heart thumping in her chest. It was a message from Emily. She opened it and paled in an instant.
[Emily: Yn, sorry to disturb you again. But I just want to tell you that tonight, the Marquis did not appear in the casino at all.]
[Emily: Just wanted to inform you.]
Yn's mind raced as she read the message from Emily. If the Marquis wasn't at the casino, then where was he? That sort of proved that he was the one behind the bouquet and chocolates, right? Or perhaps not. Maybe she was overreacting, she thought.
Those texts kept her up at night, tensing up every time she heard something out of the ordinary, or practically any noise at all. The stray dogs' barks and howls outside the apartment complex added to the eerie atmosphere, heightening Yn's unease. The sounds seemed to echo through the night, a constant reminder of the lurking danger that awaited her.
Every creak of the floorboards and gust of wind outside seemed to whisper the Marquis' name, a chilling reminder that he was watching, waiting, and planning. The sense of being trapped in a web of his making grew stronger with each passing moment.
As the night wore on, Yn's exhaustion began to take its toll. Her eyelids grew heavy, and her mind became foggy with fatigue. Yet, every time she started to drift off, a jolt of adrenaline shot through her, jarring her back to full alertness.
Hours passed, and Yn barely got any sleep that night. The first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a pale glow in the room. Yn's body was weary, her mind overwhelmed by a mix of exhaustion and apprehension. She knew that she couldn't continue like this, on the brink of exhaustion and paranoia.
She thought she would be done with the Marquis de Gramont upon quitting the casino, but apparently, it made her remember about him even more than before. It felt like she was going to live her life like this forever - always on edge and wary of everything as she had to look over her shoulder for any trace of the Frenchman.
She could not stay like this. She had to do something, but what? She couldn't confront him or else, he would make her life a living hell using his influence, power, and resources, and possibly rape her again as a consequence for any wrongdoing he thought she had done to him. She couldn't see him again.
It was Saturday that day, so Sydney did not have any preschool this morning. Not only that, but Yn did not have any morning shifts at the cafe on weekends, so she and Sydney were completely free on weekends. Yn then decided to bring Sydney and visit their mother together at the hospital and get some information regarding her treatment and upcoming surgery.
Yn and Sydney got ready for their visit to the hospital, hoping to find solace and support in the presence of their mother. Yn dressed Sydney in her favorite outfit, ensuring she looked presentable, and chose an outfit for herself that showed her modest yet confident, despite the turmoil she felt inside.
As they made their way to the hospital, Yn's mind swirled with a mix of emotions. She longed to see her mother, to feel her reassuring touch and hear her comforting words. She yearned to not worry a single thing about the Marquis, and she had hoped that seeing her mother would give her that peace. After all, she did see her mother's hospital room as a sacred place of serenity for her.
Upon entering their mother's room, Yn and Sydney were initially relieved to see her smiling and in good spirits. However, as they took in the scene more fully, Yn's relief turned to shock and disbelief.
Their mother's laughter echoed in the room, and Yn's gaze fell upon the Marquis de Gramont, sitting by her mother's bedside. He had seemingly made a joke that had elicited her mother's laughter. The sight of the Marquis in such a familiar setting sent a wave of panic crashing through Yn's body.
Yn’s body stiffened and her gaze froze on the Marquis. The color drained from her face as a chill ran through her spine. Her mind raced with questions and worries as her heart raced too quickly to keep up with it. Her mouth felt dry and her breathing quickened, though she could not move for the fear that had taken over.
Her mother finally noticed Yn's presence and a mischievous twinkle danced in her eyes. "Ah, Yn, my dear, why didn't you tell me about your dashing boyfriend?"
It was at that moment the Marquis turned his head around, looking at Yn with a tender smile. Despite his attempt to look loving and warm, his eyes betrayed it all. They bore darkness and self-satisfaction, and they were filled with a smugness that spoke of secrets - her secrets. His gaze was piercing and steady as they gleamed with sinister energy.
It's as if he loved seeing her again yet he desired to devour her in the most filthy way again and again upon laying his eyes on her.
Yn's heart sank, her mind struggling to process the situation. How did the Marquis know about her mother in the hospital? How did he manage to infiltrate even this sacred space? How did he deceive her mother into believing that he was anything more than a dangerous man?
Sydney skipped into the room and looked up at the tall Frenchman and asked innocently, "Mom, who is this?"
Her mother replied almost proudly, "His name is the Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont. He is from France, and your big sister's close friend, you see."
Yn frowned in bafflement at how her mother knew his name - his full name, even. He then stole a glance at the Marquis who was somewhat smug to know that her mother had remembered his name correctly.
"Wow!" Sydney inched closer to the Marquis and pointed at his three-piece suit, "I like your clothes! You look like a prince!"
The smile on the Marquis' face widened as he grinned at the little girl and said in his thick French accent, "That is sweet of you. Thank you, little mademoiselle. Do you want chocolates?"
He fetched something out from the inside pocket of his jacket and revealed it to be a Ferrero Rocher ball. Yn's eyes widened in alarm while Sydney squealed in delight before she took it excitedly. The little girl spoke, "My favorite chocolate! Were you the one who put gifts on our door?"
The Marquis chuckled, "Yes, I did. Do you like them?"
"I love them!" effused Sydney, "I ate all of the chocolates while my sissy took care of the flowers!"
Yn's mother then laughed lightheartedly and chimed in, "Oh my, Vincent. You even gave them gifts? How nice of you, really."
Yn’s mind raced as the Marquis charmed her family members, she knew that he was playing a dangerous game. She knew that he was capable of unspeakable things, and the thought of him being so close to her mother and sister made her skin crawl. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting something, and she needed to find a way to get away from her family. Her precious family.
She could tell that the Marquis was up to something sinister, but she couldn't cause a scene here. What if she exposed him to her mother and sister? Would he reveal who he was and threaten them all, putting them in grave danger because of her mouth? Maybe he already had a pistol inside his pocket. No. She would not let him point that at her family.
She had to play along and act like everything was fine.
Yn could feel the Marquis' gaze on her, and she knew that he was enjoying her discomfort. She could see the way that he watched her when no one else was looking, and she knew that he was trying to intimidate her. He stared at her longingly, like a wolf would stare at a deer.
Yn began to ponder on how to ensure the safety of her family when the Marquis spoke to her out of the blue, "Yn, you seem pale."
He rose from his seat and went to stand in front of her before he placed his open palm on her forehead, stunning Yn to silence, while her mother was wearing a restrained grin at what she thought was a cute display.
The Marquis then turned to her mother and sister and said with a fake, charming smile, "Excuse us for a moment. Yn needs some fresh air."
He took Yn's hand and led her outside of the hospital. The air was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. Yn's heart was pounding in her chest, and she was sure that the Marquis could feel it through their connected hands.
They walked through the semi-busy hallway of the hospital in silence until the Marquis was the one who broke it by saying, "You did not tell me you have a sister."
Yn yanked her hand out of his hold and she inquired with mild fury, knowing she had to keep her voice down in the middle of the hallway to not cause a scene, "What are you doing here?"
"Is it wrong to meet the family of my lover?" he countered with his heavy French accent and his usual triumphant smile.
Yn hissed, "What did you say to my mom?!"
Instead of responding to her, the Marquis said, "You never cease to amaze me, ma lapine. You quit your job at the casino after I gave you that 50k. You used that for your mother's treatment. Nice use of the compensation for your body and virginity."
"Don't say that," Yn hissed, "People will hear you."
The Marquis smirked, "Then let me find an empty room for both of us."
Without waiting for her response or consent, he grasped her hand and tugged her toward a direction.
"Where are we going?" she whispered as they entered a narrow, empty corridor.
"We need to resolve something somewhere," he said as he pushed her into a room.
The hospital room was white with brightly lit fluorescent lights that illuminated the interior. The bed was crisp and white with thin blankets and a pillow, making it look inviting. There was a small wooden table with a couple of chairs for visitors to sit on, as well as a personal bathroom equipped with a toilet, sink, and mirror.
The Marquis then pushed her against the wall and pinned her down with his body. He pressed his lips close to her ear and said with a sensual voice, "You seem to be forgetting a lot of things after I gave you that 50k. You cannot escape me, ma lapine. I will make you remember that."
Yn struggled against him and the wall and cried out, "Stop! You're not doing this to me again!"
Before she could scream more, he captured her lips with his and ravaged them with his tongue. Suddenly, she managed to break free and slap him angrily. That caused him to back off in shock and held his stinging cheek in an instant.
Yn stared at him wide-eyed, eyes blazing with rage and indignation, with slight fear, before she immediately spun around and rushed towards the door.
However, just before she could grab the doorknob, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind and tugged her back into the room. She was thrown onto the bed and he crawled over her and pinned her down by the wrists, straddling her thrashing thighs roughly. She tried to scream, but he muffled her mouth with his.
"You think quitting your work at the casino will set you free from me," the Marquis said, his eyes ablaze with fury and dark lust, "You are mistaken. I will make you remember your duties, ma lapine."
One hour later, Sydney was lying with her mother in the latter's bed as they chattered away about the difference in their daily lives. Her mother had known all along how much time had passed, but made no mention of it, until Sydney spoke up:
"Hey, mom. Where is Yn?" the little girl looked up at her mother with wide eyes of curiosity and child-innocence.
The mother smiled warmly and brushed her daughter's hair back, "She is with her boyfriend. She's gonna be fine, Sydney. Maybe she is bringing him around the hospital."
The two of them were clueless that the man - who claimed to be Yn's boyfriend - was fucking her senseless at the moment in an unoccupied patient's room. He pinned her in the inescapable mating press as he rammed into her mercilessly. Her pussy was overfilled with the semen he had filled her to the brim previously, but he was not done yet. He drilled his cock into her cunt with unrelenting vigor - as if she was truly his cumdump.
His hard cock was completely coated with his semen and her juices, creating filthy squelching noise as he fucked her cum-filled cunt as if he was really aiming to breed her womb.
His eyes were ablaze with a dark and primal lust as he held her down, her arms pushed down to the bed as if she was chained. She was utterly at his mercy as his hips pistoned in and out of her, each thrust pushing her further and further toward the edge of pleasure and pain. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air as he fucked her with animalistic intensity.
He was grunting with each thrust, his groans of pleasure echoing off the walls as he thrust harder and faster. The sound of flesh slapping together was almost deafening in the small room as her muffled whimpers mingled with the sound, echoing off the walls around them, tarnishing the fact that the hospital was a safe haven for Yn.
PREV : Chapter 04
NEXT : Chapter 06
Story Masterlist
Leave a comment and like! I would love to know what you think!
If you’re interested in being on my taglist to be tagged in the next chapters, please leave a comment and mention the taglist.
Taglist:
Comment specifically if you want to be removed from the taglist.
@tagakalat
@noodle81937
@urdarlingxx
@l4venderia
@aeryns--playground
@straysugzhpe
@naturalblondekiller88
@deliciousfestsalad
@androgynous-lady
@nope-nooope
@blsmbr
@erikasurfer
@softlore23
@jamaicanqueen007
@darious
@nazdaniels
@1mawh0re
@vienettacream
@elleclairez
@ninastyless
@elizziebat
@nmuanna
#tw dubcon#tw noncon#female reader#john wick chapter 4#marquis de gramont#marquis de gramont x reader#marquis vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont x reader#marquis x reader#reader insert#vincent de gramont#vincent de gramont x reader
538 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
filistuff
Fili.
overheard-at-twilights-castle
Incorrect Quotes lol
juliajewell97
Untitled
adrienne-fh
From the desk of... Adrienne: A STEAM Learning Journey