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#bill skarsgård imagine
mysticmunson · 2 years
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made this half asleep last night so enjoy
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hoteldreamss · 6 months
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Imagine || Bill Skarsgård
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Предупреждение: момент 18+; связывание/бондаж.
Тебе ужасно хотелось вернуться поскорее домой. Твоя учёба сегодня затянулась, а затем ещё и твои дела, на которые ты потратила больше времени, чем хотела поэтому и была такой вымотанной.
— Привет. — Ты подходишь к Биллу, который продолжает играть в приставку сидя на диване. Оставив быстрый поцелуй на его макушке, направляешься в свою спальню.
— Привет. — Скарсгард не успевает ухватиться за тебя, ты слишком быстро отходишь. Он ставит игру на паузу, поднимаясь с дивана и направляясь за тобой. — Как прошёл день?
Зайдя в спальню, ты кидаешь сумку в её "личный угол", и начинаешь доставать свои домашние вещи из комода.
— Неплохо. — В твоём тоне слышится небольшое раздражение, что Билл сразу замечает.
—Уверенна? Ты кажешься расстроенной.
— Я не расстроена. Просто немного устала.
Скарсгард облокачивается на косяк, пока ты размышляешь и изучаешь своё нижнее бельё, думая, какое взять. Твой парень наблюдает за тобой, поджимает губы и думает над тем, стоит ли ему сделать то, что он планировал, или вечер пятницы стоило перенести на вечер субботы.
— Я в душ. Закажешь что-нибудь? — Взяв нижнее бельё, ты закрываешь ящик и смотришь на Билла.
— Я приготовил нам ужин, — произносит он. — Картошка с курицей. И ещё я купил вино. Сегодня пятница, и я подумал, мы могли бы немного выпить.
— Круто. Я быстро. — Ты уходишь в ванную, надеясь расслабиться под тёплым душем и смыть с себя этот ужасный день.
Тёплая вода и впрямь помогает тебе. Расслабляет твоё тело и успокаивает разум.
Билл надеялся, что всё пройдёт хорошо, в конце концов, вы уже говорили об этом раньше, несколько раз вскользь. Он решил, что ты желала того же, чего и он. Пока он жил у тебя, и его квартира восстанавливалась после небольшого потопа, вы сблизились ещё больше, и это заставило его думать о разнообразии в вашей сексуальной жизни. Выйдя из ванной, с мокрыми волосами и в домашней, удобной одежде, ты усаживаешься за стол. Еда пахнет прекрасно, а вино, кажется, ещё одним соблазнительным способом расслабиться.
— Выглядит вкусно, — произносишь ты, поправляя волосы и смотря на Билла уставшим взглядом.
— Я надеюсь тебе понравится. Это то вино, что мы пили на 14 февраля, я, наконец-т��, нашёл его. Оно же понравилось тебе, верно?
— Да. — Ты кажешься совсем не в настроении.
Билл внимательно следит за тобой, немного расстроенный тем, что ты слегка грустная и злая. Поэтому он думает, что ваш ужин может пройти в тишине. Скарсгард уже знал, что лучше оставлять тебя в покое, когда ты в таком состоянии.
— Спасибо. Было вкусно, — произносишь ты. Встав со своего места, ты убираешь тарелку, а затем направляешься немного пьяная в спальню.
Ты быстро вырубаешься, пока Билл чувствует себя слегка обделённым. Но вымыв посуду, он возвращается к тебе, ложась рядом с тобой и слыша твоё тихое умиротворённое сопение во время сна.
***
Ты просыпаешься раньше Билла, чувствуя себя лучше, чем вчера вечером. Сходив в ванную, после ты направляешься на кухню, чтобы сделать завтрак для себя и Скарсгарда.
Он выглядит сонным, когда выползает на кухню.
— Доброе утро. — Тепло улыбаясь, ты быстро целуешь Билла, подходя к нему. — Я сделала завтрак.
— Ты сильно рано встала? — Билл обнимает тебя, и ты чувствуешь тепло его тела, ощущая уют рядом с ним. — Как ты сейчас?
— Хорошо. Может посмотрим сегодня что-нибудь? Не хочу никуда идти.
— Как скажешь, красавица.
Билл любил иногда лениво проводить время с тобой. Ему нравилось лежать на диване, обнимая тебя, обсуждать с тобой всё произошедшее на экране вашего телевизора. И сегодня к тому же был пасмурный день, планы Скарсгарда должны были воплотиться в жизнь. Он был уверен, что если ты расслабишься, то станешь немного податливее.
Поэтому, когда заканчивается очередная серия «Сообщества», Билл решается поднять одну тему. Он надеялся, что сможет сделать это правильно. Ему не хотелось давить на тебя, и он никогда бы не желал принуждать тебя к чем-либо.
— Знаешь, я тут подумал... Может мы попробуем что-нибудь новое? Немного разнообразим наши выходные?.. — Он чувствует себя слегка нелепо и неловко. Скарсгард понятия не имеет как подобраться к этой теме. Несмотря на ваше доверие в отношениях, уважение и принятие друг друга, Билл понимал, как может звучать.
— Например? — Ты кидаешь на него заинтересованный взгляд, пока тянешься за своей кружкой чая.
— Помнишь, мы говорили о разных вещах... Чтобы мы хотели попробовать друг с другом. — Скарсгард смотрит на тебя, внимательно стараясь изучить твои эмоции, но ты кажешься всё ещё спокойной. — И я тогда сказал про... — Билл думает о том, как назвать это, просто связыванием или более научным термином. — Связывание.
Ты явно задумываешься, Скарсгард пытается понять, как ты реагируешь на это и что думаешь. Но хотя бы ты не смотришь на него с испугом.
— Ты хочешь попробовать бондаж? — Твои брови слегка поднимаются, пока ты стараешься обдумать его слова. Билл кивает, на самом деле, чуть заметно, но ты всё равно это подмечаешь.
Теперь ты в лёгком замешательстве, раздумывая и анализируя свои мысли.
— Прости. Если я не должен был... — Скарсгард чувствует себя идиотом и даже немного извращенцем.
— Билл, — ты стараешься правильно сформировать свои мысли. — Я не против. — Меняя позу, ты накрываешь руку своего парня своей и ласково гладишь его. — Давай попробуем. — Поцеловав Билла, ты отрываешься от него с улыбкой и с явным предвкушением.
***
Билл, сидя на кровати, продолжает перевязывать твои запястья у тебя за спиной. Ты терпеливо ждёшь, слегка в предвкушении. Твоё тело сковано верёвкой, которая сковывает тебя почти везде.
— Не туго? — интересуется Билл, поднимая взгляд.
— Всё в порядке, — твои губы искажаются в милой улыбке, после чего ты тянешься к нему, немного отклоняясь назад, чуть не сталкиваясь спиной с грудью Скарсгарда, желая оставить быстрый поцелуй на его губах, но Билл отстраняется, отклонившись назад. Твои брови хмурятся, а в глазах мелькает непонимание и лёгкая обида.
— Мы закончили с верёвкой, а значит, теперь без разрешения... — Он смотрит на тебя немного строже, кажется, раньше ты видела этот взгляд всего пару раз за все ваши отношения. Хотя Билл всё ещё старается быть мягким. — Ты не можешь вести себя так, как хочешь, ясно?
— Да.
—Да?
—Да, сэр? — Ты прищуриваешься, делая предположения о том, как он хочет, чтобы ты к нему обращалась. — Я не уверена, Билли. Это слишком резко, может оставим прозвища на следующий раз?
— Хорошо. — Он оставляет поцелуй у тебя на плесе, нежно и так заботливо. Ты чувствуешь его тёплую ладонь на своей талии.
Отстранившись, он помогает тебе лечь на живот, пока сам садится перед тобой. Кровать под тобой и Биллом прогибается. Ладонь твоего парня скользит по твоим ногам, он гладит твою кожу, наслаждаясь её бархатистостью, которая на самом деле была результатом твоего пребывания в ванной дольше нужного.
— Ты такая красивая. Ты знаешь это? Так прекрасна. — Голос Билла спокойный и чуть тише обычного, но ты всё равно чувствуешь прилив возбуждения из-за него. Жар между твоих ног начинает медленно растекаться, а узел возбуждения внизу твоего живота начинает затягиваться.
Лёгкий шлепок по одной из твоих ягодиц заставляет тебя вздрогнуть и вобрать в лёгкие больше воздуха. Теперь его тёплые ладони поглаживает твой зад, будто стараясь успокоить слегка раскрасневшуюся кожу.
Скарсгард не пробовал этого раньше, хотя он много прочитал и ещё больше просмотрел, второе было сделано на протяжение большей части его жизни скорее по желанию, нежели ради изучения.
— Блять. — Казалось, что теперь ему нужно немного времени, чтобы осознать то, что с ним происходит. Билл на самом деле, не сильно надеялся когда-то попробовать это и уж тем более с девушкой, которая так любима им и дарит столько любви в ответ. Поэтому он чувствует возбуждение и даже задумывается, не просто ли насладиться этим видом передёргивая на тебя. Хотя может это могло бы быть частью вашего «время провождения».
Ты чувствуешь, как Билл склоняется к твоему заду. И тогда происходит то, что ты не ожидала, зубы Билла впиваются в твою плоть, пока твоя попа вздёрнута вверх. Скарсгард слышит от тебя слабый звук, кажется, ты стараешься контролировать свои стоны и ему это никогда не нравилось, поэтому он решает, что его задачей является сделать всё, что он хотел долго и не решался.
Ты получаешь ещё один шлепок, и снова поглаживание. Это продолжается недолго, заставляя тебя слегка поскуливать. Но твоё возбуждение нарастает, а его похвала заставляет тебя становиться более влажной, и твоя сердцевина сжимается вокруг пустоты.
— Такая влажная, — Билл проводит пальцами по твоей обнажённой сердцевине. — Эта киска только моя, да?
— Да, — твой голос слегка ломается, когда пальцы Скарсгарда скользят по тебе, погружаясь внутрь. — Только твоя.
— Такая хорошенькая. Прелесть. — Билл склоняется к твоим влажные складочкам, и ты чувствуешь его тёплый язык, который заставляет тебя толкнуться бёдрами ему в лицо. Смешок Скарсгарда доносится до тебя и заставляет покраснеть, хотя из-за твоей позы кровь наверняка и так прилила к твоим щекам.
Билл умел доставлять тебе удовольствие. Поэтому ему не нужно много времени, чтобы ты брызнула. Теперь одеяло под вами слегка влажное из-за тебя.
— Как ты? — интересуется он, поглаживая твои бёдра, расставленные широко для твоего парня. Верёвки впиваются в твою кожу, что на самом деле нравится Биллу.
— Хорошо. — Скарсгард склоняется к твоему лицу, он берёт тебя за подбородок, заставляя слегка выгнуться, чтобы ему было удобнее тебя поцеловать. Это немного слюняво, но тебе нравится, и ты чувствуешь, как он гладит тебя по спине, а затем спускается к твоей попе, также поглаживая её для успокоения, и вот, его пальцы проскальзывают в тебя снова. Ты стонешь во время поцелуя, и Билл не собирается отрываться от тебя. Он помогает тебе подняться, теперь ты также сидишь на кровати, как и Скарсгард.
— Скажи, что ты моя девочка.
— Я твоя девочка. Только твоя. — Его пальцы погружаются в тебя глубже, пока он доводит тебя до очередного оргазма и заставляет скакать и тереться о его пальцы. И когда ты сжимаешься вокруг него, утыкаясь в его шею, чувствуя, как напряжение покидает тебя.
Твоё дыхание тяжёлое и глубокое, пока ты смотришь на Билла затуманенным взглядом. Его возбуждённый член упирается тебе в бедро, пока его рука поглаживает твой зад. Его губы расплываются в улыбке. Билл хотел бы продолжить тебя мучить оргазмами, слышать, как ты будешь умолять его перестать, но его возбуждение не утихает.
Он оставляет влажные поцелуи на твоей щеке, шее, он покусывает твою кожу, пока помогает тебе медленно перевернуться на спину.
— Ты в порядке? — интересуется Билл, устраиваясь между твоих ног. Он склоняется над тобой, внимательно следя за твоим слегка потерянным состоянием. Ты всё ещё не отошла от оргазмов, но Скарсгард не собирается делать тебе поблажки.
— Да. — Кивая, ты с трудом можешь собраться с мыслями, когда чувствуешь, как влажная головка члена Билла скользит по твоим складочкам и вздрагиваешь от излишней чувствительности. — Билл.
Ты стараешься отпрянуть назад, чтобы избавиться от контакта, но твоё положение с трудом позволяет тебе сдвинуться с места.
Скарсгард же проскальзывает в тебя без особого труда, благодаря твоей влажности и своему возбуждению. Его толчки быстрые и резкие, он тяжело дышит, утыкаясь носом в изгиб твоей шее. Твои стоны разносятся по всей комнате, пока Билл дотрагивается до твоего пучка нервов средним пальцем. Он гладит его, заставляя твоё тело снова натягиваться как струна из-за предстоящего оргазма. И ты сжимаешься внутри, вся напрягаясь, когда твоё освобождение вытекает из тебя.
Билл останавливается, испытывая свой кайф, погружённый глубоко в тебя. Его сознание постепенно освобождается от тумана возбуждения. Оторвавшись от тебя, он оглядывает твоё тело и оценивает твои эмоции. Но ты кажешься полностью довольной.
— Я люблю тебя, — Билл оставляет нежный поцелуй на твоих губах, поглаживая тебя по волосам. Его рука проскальзывает тебе под спину, к узлам верёвки, которые он намерен развязать.
Освободив тебя, его ладони проходятся по следам от верёвки, надеясь утешить твою кожу.
— Я тоже люблю тебя, — произносишь ты, положив свои руки на его щёки и даря жадный и долгий поцелуй.
Влажные волосы Билла спадают ему на лоб, его губы чуть припухли от поцелуев, как и твои, его щёки раскраснелись от жара, который начинал постепенно спадать.
— Как насчёт ванны? — предлагаешь ты.
— Я наберу. — Билл подрывается с места и направляется в ванную комнату.
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yup-thats-me · 2 years
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— that's my wife • bill skarsgård
pairing: husband!Bill x wife!reader
summary: a man in the club thinks it a fun idea to harass you. What he didn't know was, your husband was right there to remind him his rightful place.
warning: harassment, language, anger | älskling = darling in swedish
note: don't hate. Just don't.
DON'T COPY/STEAL. NOT COOL
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"You sure you're gonna stay here?" You pouted at your husband who was currently sitting on the bar stool with a glass of whiskey is his hands.
"No, älskling have fun. I'll just watch my gorgeous wife," Bill winked blowing you a kiss.
You nodded with a smile, stepping on the dance floor. There was "On the floor" by Jennifer Lopez was playing that really made you feel the beats and your hips and body began moving in sync.
Bill watched with heart eyes as you poured your heart out in your every move. Loving the way your hair bounced with your movements, the dress you wore perfectly accented our curves.
But the thing he loved the most was the diamond ring shining on your left hand ring finger. That ring reminded Bill everyday that you were his. That he was lucky enough to call you, a piece of art his wife. He knew he could never loose you not even in his dreams. You were his for eternity. And there was nothing that'd make him want to change things from the way that they are.
A call from his manager made him stand in a secluded area. He had to take it. When he came back, a man was dancing danced around you politely as everyone else was. Bill didn't see anything out of the ordinary. But he kept out an eye on the two of you. He had a feeling that guy near you did not have the best of intentions.
You still danced your heart out, moving your hips from side to side. Everything was going great untill the man's hand landed on your ass. You jerked away from him, anger burning in your eyes.
"The hell? Get away from me you perv!" You shouted angrily over the loud music. The man wore a disgusting look in his eyes that made you want to break his nose. And frankly you should but not wanting to cause a scene, you thought better of it.
"Now now, Doll. Don't pretend you didn't liked our little dance." You were getting more and more infuriated by this bastard. You lifted your left hand, showing him the diamond ring.
"See that, you asshole? That is an engagement ring and that means I'm married. Now fuck off!"
Meanwhile, Bill had come forward and was standing behind the man so that he was facing you.
"Let's forget about your husband, huh saxy mamá? Me and you—" Richard was cut off by Bill grabbing him by the collar.
He turned the guy around. Bill, with his tall stature looked down upon him with angry eyes. If looks could kill, that guy would have been buried 100ft by now.
"Watch your fucking mouth!"
"What the fuck? Put me down!" The man squirmed in his hold. Bill had lifted him off the ground by a few centimetres.
"THAT IS MY WIFE. Get lost before shit turns serious," Bill threatened with gritted teeth finally releasing his hold on his collar. The man fell down and straight up bolted for the door.
Bill returned to his normal loving self ina second and pulled you in for a hug. You breathed in the all familiar smell of his cologne and relaxed in his arms.
"You okay, Y/n? That ass didn't do anything right?" He asked, frantically looking all over you for any sign that said otherwise.
"No. I'm good. Let's go back home. That dick ruined the night," you said in a soft tone.
Bill put his arm around your shoulder and kissed your forehead, rubbing your arms up and down, comfortingly.
"No matter, baby. I'll make it up you," Bill sweetly.
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Can I request Bill skarsgard x plus! size reader/ Tom Hiddleston so Tom and the reader were dating but Tom cheated on her so she moved on with Bill Skarsgard they got married had kids a whole happy ending for the reader
Sorry for the long wait hun, here you go!!
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„Any last words? “, you whispered to your now ex-boyfriend Tom. The British actor shook his head in and bowed his head in shame, just having watched you back your final belongs all while your best friend was waiting outside in your car.
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You couldn’t help but let out a frustrated scoff while shaking your head in disapproval. “Really? An hour ago, you had no issues counting all my flaws and reasons why you decided to cheat on me with your friend…”. Tom sighed and shook his head again, still avoiding your piercing glare by playing with his tall fingers. You couldn’t describe the hot and burning anger burning all the way deep in your chest as you continued to shoot daggers at your ex-boyfriend.
“Well, I hope that she was worth it. Look at me and tell me that she was worth throwing away our three-year relationship, Tom”, you demanded with a cold tone. Tom finally lifted his head and looked straight at you, a part of him felt sorry that he had put you through so much betrayal, pain, and misery, but his blue eyes also showed something else. Another emotion. You squinted your eyes and stared at him without saying a word.
“(Y/N), I am very sorry that I cheated on you, but what Zawe and I have is something else…Something better.”.
A lump formed in your throat that was almost impossible to swallow as the tears started to brim your eyes, but you silently refused to give Tom the benefit of seeing you cry and break down again. You had wasted enough tears because of this man. His eyes showed relief. Relief that he now could be honest about his feelings and continue his life with his newfound love.
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“Zawe is worth it. I know this must be so fucking hard for you to hear but I want to set my feelings straight. I regret cheating but not the fact that I ‘ve found the love I’ve always wanted. I’m sorry that you’re not it.
Fucking hell, this man had all the audacity and no shame whatsoever.
You nodded your head in pure disappointment and pursed your lips, still trying to swallow the disrespectful words that were just thrown at you. You lifted the final duffel bag and threw it over your shoulder, just wanting to disappear.
“You don’t even deserve any final words from me. “, you hissed and with this turned around and left your once shared bedroom, waiting until you had left Tom’s house and had hopped into your car where your best friend already was waiting to comfort you. You couldn’t even form any words, she had seen the look on your face before waiting until you had put your seatbelt on to give you a quick hug, glaring daggers at Tom’s house and silently wishing him the worst.
Your best friend made sure that you were somewhat stable before driving away, wishing that she could take away all your pain. To have witnessed you losing the man you loved so much was also very hard for her.
5 years later
“Bill” you giggled and watched your husband plant gentle kisses over your swollen stomach, your unborn daughter kicking in euphoria as she loved having her father’s attention. It was about nine a.m., your two-year-old son was still asleep after having a fussy night filled with lots of cries but also cuddles and reassurance that he wasn’t alone and very much loved. You and Bill soaked the silence in and just waited for your little ray of sunshine to wake up and fill your day with laughter and silliness.
Your husband pecked your stomach a few more times and chuckled gently when his daughter showed that she wanted more love by poking her tiny foot out of your left side of your stomach. “Oof”, you sighed and laughed, wondering how something so small could be yet so strong.
“Hey, don’t hurt mommy, ok? She’s taking such good care of you, your brother and me. We all love her so much”, your husband praised before shifting his position so that he was lying right next to you, his hand now gently placed on your stomach and staring lovingly into your beautiful eyes.
You couldn’t help but melt away at this beautiful sight, your heart swelling in your chest as you felt pure happiness and peace slowly tingle through your body. The pregnancy was going fine, and you only had two more months left before your daughter would grace the world with her presence, completing your beautiful family. Bill was the best thing that had ever happened to you.
“I love you so much, (Y/N)”, your husband whispered and gently caressed your soft cheek, drinking in the breathtaking sight of the love of his life just lying there, looking like a goddess. Pride and joy filled his heart as he shook his head in astonishment, still not being able to comprehend the fact that he had to absolute honor of having you in his life, carrying life inside you.
All you could do was whisper that you loved him back while grinning from ear to hear. Bill pulled you closer and let his head rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling and humming in pleasure when your delicate scent hit his nostrils. You closed your eyes and just remember all the beautiful memories you’ve mad with this man.
How weird was it that just years ago, your heart got so destroyed that you had lost all hopes of finding love again. The days and nights you had spent crying yourself to sleep while having your entourage and the social media flaunt the relationship of your ex right in your face. Even going offline and deleting all your social media accounts didn’t help because you were constantly faced with a fact or sight of your ex enjoying his life with his now fiancé and their toddler. You had to quit your job, move away before the deep wound in your heart was able to slowly heal.
And now here you were, lying in bed with the love of your life and enjoying this peaceful moment.
“Mama! Dada!” the voice of your son rang through the room as your baby monitor blinked, notifying that your son was now wide awake. You and Bill both looked at the small screen placed on your nightstand with a wide smile on your faces. The little ball of pure joyous energy was now conscious and ready to turn your day upside down with silliness and laughter. “I’ll get the little man and prepare breakfast for us, my love. You stay still and enjoy a few more minutes and peace and quietness” your husband chuckled before pressing a tender kiss on your mouth, which let your lips tingle and yearn for more kisses. “Thanks”, you whispered before closing your eyes and laughing while your son starting singing a made up song while tumbling around in his small bed, already wreaking havoc.
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-Emmanuelle
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@ctrlszn l @baggyfaggy l @automaticdelusionstudent l @thefemfem l @ah-blossom l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes
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alphabetbill · 2 years
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Bill / Roman Imagines
Just a short list of things I've imagined Bill x Reader Insert doing and it makes me giggle. Little things that keep me up at night. This may be a multi part thing I do when I think of things.
Spontaneous Pillow Fights With Bill
Running away laughing like a maniac after smacking him square across the face with a pillow from the couch. At first, he's stunned, then the realization of war sets in and he stops what he's doing to join in the fun. Armed with two pillows, one more than what you have, it's an unfair fight and you know you've lost as soon as he gets up and chases you. He covers the living room and the kitchen easily and picks you up by the waist to throw you over his shoulder. He carries you back towards the couch and you make it as difficult as possible for him, until he's forced to put you down, unable to put up with your squirming.
He takes the pillow you've been wildly clinging onto and starts bashing you with all the pillows he can find within reach. You're laughing, he's laughing, you're clinging to him and trying to bring him down and he ends up flopping on top of you, tired and sore from laughing. He threatens to hold you down forever unless you stop hitting him with pillows every five seconds. You pinky promise him. He gets off of you, and guess what you do? Hit him with a pillow.
Lazy Mornings With Roman
You go to sleep cuddled up with each other, talking and whispering at all hours of the night. He holds your hands and kisses them when you cup his face and look into his eyes. He's always so at peace when he's lying next to you, you make him feel relaxed and it makes everyone feel at ease.
When you wake up, he's usually spooning you with his face smooshed into your back or shoulder, and his breath feels nice against your skin. He presses kisses to your body when he feels you stir, and he's always begging you to stay still and stay in bed with him for just a few more minutes. He plays with or fixes your hair which he finds an odd fascination with in the mornings, rubs your back or your neck if you slept funny, and he's actually very clingy. When it's his turn to get up early for work, he always kisses you on the cheek, strokes your hair and tells you he loves you before leaving. He always makes sure he kisses you and tells you how he feels before he goes, because it's a mood but any time could be the last time.
Ridiculous Hairstyles With Bill
Maybe he's reading a script or a book, maybe you're watching a movie together or maybe you're just chilling. You come up behind him while he's sitting on the couch and run your fingers through his hair. If it's long enough, you try to pull it up into mini pigtails and he always refuses your puppy-dog eyed request to go down the street with them in his hair.
"Okay. If you don't wear this down the street then you have to give me $20 and you get no kisses for the rest of your life".
You try to hide away while Bill tries to steal the kisses, and you end up giving in.
You will style his hair but you refuse to cut it no matter how many times he insists it will be fine.
Pet Names And Fun Games With Roman
He calls you Honey and you call him Husband.
"Honey i'm home!"
"Hey Husband, whatcha doing?"
You absolutely banter with it a lot and it's ridiculously fun.
"Worst husband ever" when he disagrees with you.
You sometimes reach up to adjust his tie only to completely pull it out just for funsies. Ruffle his hair and you get the look.
You play little tricks just to mess with him- move his stuff or try to run away with it and force him to chase you and catch you if he wants it bad enough. It's your way of testing if he's any fun anymore or if he's fully dead inside.
You tell really bad jokes and puns and he puts up with it. There will be eye rolls.
There will be moments when the two of you just can't stop smiling at each other. You're wondering how you got this man to fall in love with you, and he's wondering how he got so lucky.
Memory Lane With Bill
Bill loves hearing all about your friends and family and he's dying to meet them but would also be incredibly nervous. He adores the way you smile so much when you talk about them, and he cries with you when you reminisce about tough topics. He likes hearing about your family, it's a nice change of pace from his own which can get a bit hectic and loud. You lie in bed talking and he just listens so intently he can actually see what you're describing to him.
Funny and/or embarrassing stories and childhood nicknames are his absolute favourite things to hear from you. He may even straight up ask you if you have any other stories from your childhood, and when you're all out of stories, he wants to hear them again.
More might come when I think of them!
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veraveracrackships · 2 years
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Clary Frey & Roman Godfrey
Crossover
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Seven Months and Flying
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Imagine you being seven months pregnant with your and bill's daughter and flying with him to his hometown in Stockholm, Sweden.
July 20th, 2018
Did you ask Dr.Rachel if you can fly with me to Stockholm Sweden, " Bill asked with a smile as he rubs your huge baby bump.
Yes, I did. I can fly with you bc I'm only 30 weeks and I'm in the clear to fly with you," You said with a smile as you lay your hand on top of his.
I'm hoping that you know that this flight will be 11 hours and 34 minutes long," Bill said as he smiled at you.
Yay. 11 hours and 34 minutes on a plane with a baby on my bladder," You said with a smile.
Ik that it's long but you will be ok and there is a bathroom on the plane ," Bill said with a smile as he rubs your baby bump.
Ik that , " You said as you gave him a little smile.
Your total is $ 1, 652.94," The Lady said.
Here you go , " You said as you hand the lady a credit card .
Here is your tickets to Stockholm, Sweden," The Lady said as she hands you the tickets .
Here is your ticket," You said as you hand a ticket to Bill.
Thank you love ," Bill said as he smiled at you .
Flight 4B to Stockholm, Sweden is now boarding ," The Lady called.
That is us," Bill said as he smiled at you as he grab your hand .
The Crowd of Fans went nuts as you two walked to the gate.
We got 11 hours and 34 minutes until we get to Stockholm, Sweden," You mumbled.
You will be fine ," Bill said as he smiled at you.
Do you have a baby on your bladder. No you don't, "You said as you smiled at him.
( 11 hours and 34 minutes later )
It's beautiful here, " You said with a smile.
Wait until you see Stockholm in winter ," Bill said with a smile as he grab your hand .
Now since we had unpack. What do you want to do now ," Bill asked as he smiled at you as he rubs your bump.
I want to go shopping for our daughter," You said with a smile.
We have everything that we need for our daughter," Bill said with a smile.
Ik but I want to get more clothes for her ," You said as you smiled at him.
She has so many clothes until she gets a couple months old that's how many clothes she has," Bill said as he grinned at you .
Please. I want to get more bows for her ," You said with a smile.
Fine. You are lucky that you are cute," Bill said as he grins at you.
Ik ," You says with a smile.
( Target )
I thought that you were only buying bows," Bill asked with a raised eyebrow as he watches you put two things of diapers in the cart.
I was until I saw cute stuff for our daughter that she must have," You said with a smile before you put two packs of pacifiers in the cart.
She isn't even here yet and already spoiled by her mama," Bill said as he grinned at her.
She is going to have you wrapped around her finger when she comes in two months," You said with a smile as you grab a thing of nipple shields and nipple balm and lays them in the cart.
I thought that you had already bought those things for your breasts," Bill asked?
Yeah, I did but I might need more just in case," You said with a smile.
She is going to need baby lotion," You said with a smile as you grab two things of baby lotion and lays them in the cart.
Don't you have stretch marks lotion at home," Bill asked as he watch you lay a thing of it in the cart.
I do but I had used it all ," You said.
Is there anything else that you need , " Bill asked as he smiled at you.
No. I got everything that I need ," You said .
Your total is $ 129.62.
You put your credit card in and the approved sign came up.
You take the credit card out and put it in your wallet.
I can't believe in two months that she will be here," Bill said with a smile as he kisses your stomach.
I can't wait to meet our baby girl, " You said with a smile as you run your fingers threw his hair.
We have two months before she comes and our daughter doesn't even have a name yet," Bill said with a smile.
What about Emily," You asked him with a smile.
I do like it and it's pretty for a girl name , "Bill said with a smile.
She has a name now. Emily needs a middle name now," You said with a smile.
What about Emily Raelynn Skarsgård," Bill said as he smiled at you.
I love it," You said with a smile as you lean against him.
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A/N: Believe it or not, after the fallout of Chapter 10, I didn't want to give Roman a happy ending. In my concept, they were supposed to kiss and everything was hunky-dory again but... that's why this ending leaves their future in a more realistic light. That they need time to come to terms with this. Still, I’m sorry for the ending ... my heart wasn’t in this.
Warning: language
Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @devilxangel-blog @liadamerondjarin @andrewswifes-blog @adriennepoison  
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ill-skillsgard · 2 years
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I have such small boobs and all I can seem to think about is Bill trying to reassure you that your chest size doesn’t matter and he loves every inch of you body 🥺
Honeyyyy, welcome to the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. I, too, have v small bewbs.
Bill wouldn't even have to say anything to make you feel like your titties mattered. He would have the most fun using his enormous paws to fully encompass your tatas, making them disappear as he squeezed what you got and smiling at the way you squeal. And nipple-play is a total must. He'd latch onto your nips and admire them with the tip of his tongue, smothering them with kisses. No day would pass without him giving them some sweet smooches and sneaking a feel when nobody was looking.
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nyxvuxoa-writes · 9 months
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Hello, my love... so okay... yes... would you kindly do.... Prompt #176. “I’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are.” This prompt is for Roman Godfrey...
👉👈Thank you 👉👈
Imma go hide in a dark corner now...
Excited to finally write something for you that is tailored for you and not having you just appeal to my obsessions. I hope you like this.
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𝑨 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝑽𝒊𝒆𝒘
Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader
#176. “I’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are.”
◢ Genre: A touch of fluff, Kink, Smut ---- Suitable For Adults Only
◢ Warnings: PWP, dom!Roman, submissive!reader, exhibitionism, sort of window fetish, sort of public sex(?), some spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, sex from behind, hair pulling, biting, creampie, sexy time talk. slight praise kink, begging, mention of aftercare.
◢ Word Count: 2.6k
◢ A/N: Okay, so I have never written for Roman before, but I feel this will be pretty straightforward. I hope it hits all the right spots.
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You have become accustom to how your relationship with Roman had grown. There was a sort of mutual understanding on how things are with him. He is in charge, and you had a 'place' to be in, for lack of better terms. In some small way you had control, but not in the normal sense of things; you had the control that a submissive in a bdsm relationship would have it.
This is your relationship with Roman. You are his submissive and he is your master. But when you are asked to strip down and stand in front of floor to ceiling windows, you hesitate slightly. Your eyes gaze to the window, watching as people walk past it. You would feel and be rather exposed to anyone who had possible wondering eyes.
After a moment though, and wanting to avoid correction, you slowly manage to strip down to nothing. Kicking your clothes to side, you look down at them like you had just lost your security blanket. Instinctually you want to cover yourself with your arms. It was natural for you to keep yourself covered, feeling rather unconfident, but you knew he would correct you. A part of you hated it.
Slowly you take in a deep breath through your nose, your fingers pressing into the palm of you hand. Roman was always one to push those boundaries with you. He like getting you to try something new, even if it made you a little scared or uncomfortable. He damn well knew this was going to make you uncomfortable. A part of him questioned if you would need to use your safe word. He hoped not.
Walking around you like an animal observing a cornered prey, he couldn't help but smirk slightly, a small chuckle escaping him. His finger reach over and the tips of them so gently graze your skin, moving from the side of your thigh and up around your body as he walked back around to stand in front of you. He fingers come to your nipple and he pinches and pulls at it slightly.
You tense a bit, feeling a small bit of pain. For a moment your lips push out and your brow furrows, almost as if you are pouting at him for doing that to you. At least he knows that he has your attention. You're focused and not zoned out, or withdrawing too much into yourself. This was going to be a big step for you.
“I’m going to fuck you against the windows, I want everyone to see how good you are.” He states, cutting straight to the point for the reason he had you here right now.
Your eyes go wide. "What?"
"I'm going to fuck you against the windows." He repeated, his tone slowing down slightly as he is allowing the sentence to sink into your brain for a moment. He licks at his lips as his hands reach up and he starts to take off his suit coat, laying it over the couch. He doesn't opt to take off his shirt, instead he loosens the tie and rolls up his sleeves to expose his forearms.
You could have used your safeword at that moment. You could have stopped him dead in his tracks and kept it from happening. The choice was right there and for a moment you considered it. But at the same time, there was something appealing about the idea. How many people would notice? How many people could stop to watch to see what was going on in the window.
Watching as Roman turned around and slid his hands into his pockets, watching you closely, you could feel as your heart started to pound in your chest. This wasn't how you were expecting your night to go. It was scary, but exciting. A small part of you remembered that you could stop this at any point if it became too much, and you mentally reminded yourself of that.
Letting your body relax, you looked at Roman with a small smile before you nodded your head, giving him that sort of consent that you were going to give it a shot. Roman smiles slightly, approaching you to cup your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to gaze up at him. He leans in and kisses you, pressing his lips roughly against yours before he spins you around to the window.
Gripping your arms, he brings your hands up to the window and presses your palms against it as he bends you over slightly. His hands move to your hips and he brings your hips out slightly, bringing you to that perfect level for him. His hand move gently over your lower back, grazing against your ass as he gently grips at your left cheek, his fingers pressing for a moment before brings his hand up and smacks it down against your flesh.
You tense and jump slightly. You had been expecting the motion, but it still had caught you off guard. This only caused your heart to pound in your chest a little more. Why did you have to face the window? Couldn't he have just lifted you up and pressed you against it? By his logic, sure, and maybe at some point he will. But this way people could see the faces you make as he presses his cock into the dewy folds between your legs. Bonus points if there happened to be an ex that walked by at that moment, but he doubt he would get that lucky.
A small chuckle escapes him as he steps back and takes a moment to observe you and the people that were already glancing into the window. This was going to be satisfying. His jaw clenches slightly, feeling himself starting to quickly stiffen in the restricting fabric of his pants. He starts to undo his belt, a sound that causes your ears to hyper-tune into it with clashing of the metal buckle. But he doesn't take it off, he simply starts to unbutton his pants, letting them drop just enough with his briefs to free his growing erect self.
Keeping his erect self in one hand, he reaches forward wit the other and bring his fingers to graze against your lower lips. Roman can feel the dampness spread as he presses his fingers into the folds slightly and runs them against your clit. This causes you to lift your hips slightly, a wave of excitement rushing over you with that feeling of anticipation and being nervous. It was a lot to feel at once and it caused goosebumps against your skin.
His finger press into your hole, as if he was preparing you to be ready for what would come right after them. He slowly pushes them deeply, reaching the full length of the fingers and starts to do a back and forth motion. You moan softly, your legs spreading a little bit as your juices start to coat them. Feeling satisfied with how wet you are becoming, Roman removes his fingers from you and positions himself behind you.
For a moment, your eyes glance up at the window and you can somewhat make out your reflections in it. Your lips part in a heavy breath as you watch, your vision going from his reflection and the people outside. A few stood by to watch, acting as though they were just leaning against something. Others simply shook their heads and walked on. This caused your heart to race further. Could you get in trouble for this? Technically speaking, yes.
Your toes curl slightly against the floor as you feel the head of Roman's cock pressing against your hole and then slowly sliding into you. He lets out a heavy groan, his hands quickly moving to your hips as he grips on and presses his entire length deeply into you. Your body grips at him, taking him deeply as your muscles felt around him slightly, almost as if to pull him in deeper.
Your slow moan and gasp for air felt louder than you intended, as if it bounced off the window in front of you and back at you. Your suck in your stomach a moment, feeling you body tense as his motions start in. First he moved slowly, bringing himself back to tip before he pressed his length into you again. He relished in the moment of how you felt around him. He was the reason you were tight. He was the reason you were wet. That is a satisfying feeling to him.
His hands travel against your body, moving from your hips up your side and resting against your ribs. For a moment his fingers dig into you, sending a little pain to mix with the feeling of pleasure, and that causes you to moan a little louder and press your hips back into his. When your ass met his somewhat open pants and flesh, he groaned, tensing slightly. You were letting that wall down, exploring something new, and he was eating it up.
Roman starts to pick up his pace as he grips at your ribs, allowing for just slightly quicker motions into your wet fold. He keeps himself buried a little more, no longer letting you feel the full length, but instead letting you feel the slightly faster, forceful nature of his hips. His breathing starts to pick up as he hears your moans and for a moment he leans forward slightly.
One hand reaches forward, gripping at your breast. He squeezes it in his hand as he presses his entire length into you, holding it for a moment as he allows his hand to fondle with your chest. His lips start to wonder against your shoulder-blade, kissing at your skin with a sense of passion. It hadn't been just a moment into hearing you moan more that Roman starts his motions again, pumping his hips into you.
"You feel so good." He mutters. "So wet. So tight. Are you my good girl?" He asks, while still leaning over slightly against your back.
You nod quickly, moaning and breathing heavily. You had forgotten what your hands were pressed against, the feeling of the glass more slick under your palms with sweat. He smirks against your skin slightly as he presses his teeth into your shoulder, biting at you a little, as his motions become more rough. Screaming out, your head drops a little more as your body tense out in both pain and pleasure.
Roman comes from the bite, lifting his lips and teeth off your shoulder-blade to see deeply purple markings and a faint bruise already starting to form. What's his, is his and he has no issues with marking his girl. Feeling pleased with himself, his cock twitches and hardens a little more inside you, which causes him to bring his hands back to your waist.
He started to give rougher, more forceful thrusts into you. Groaning and moaning loudly with you. The occasional fuck or oh god leaving someone's lips in a breathy moaned tone. The louder you became the rougher his motions started to get. Eventually, Roman's hands were in your hair and he was pulling on it. He pulled you back slightly, arching your back a bit, as his knees bent just enough to give himself a different angle.
He pressed himself into deeply, finding that right length to insert that would hit your sweet spot. He causes your legs to shake, trembling under you and you feel like your about to give way and lose your self of balance. He knew what that leg shaking meant, that tremble that ran through your body was something he had memorized. He learned how to work you, to help you achieve the finish that you craved from from.
"Good girl. My wonderful girl. Does that feel good?" He ask. "Y-yes Sir." You stammer, your fingers and palms red from how hard you were pressing them into the window. "Would you like to cum baby?" He coos at you, pressing his length in deeply as he says the word cum.
You moan and nod, hoping that he doesn't ask you to beg for it. But it was instinct, and before he could even say it, you were already begging for that sweet release.
"Please, can I cum? Please? I'm right there." You manage to get out between moans and heaving breaths. Roman looks amused, and rather proud of you.
"Ask me again." He mutters, almost growling as he's trying to contain his own moans for just a moment.
"Please. May I cum? Please let me cum." You insist. "Alright. Cum baby. Make a mess for me." He says, as both his hands go to grip at your sides.
You start to take some sort of small control as you rock your body back and forth a moment, starting to bounce yourself against Roman's length. He doesn't stop you and you cause his body to tense and the pressure to build more and more. "Oh fuck..." He manages to mutter. "Don't stop baby. Keep going. Keep going." He says, almost begging you. "You've got me right there baby."
You pick up the pace, feeling that release right on the edge there. And as he speaks, that begging and slightly needy tone coming from him, you find yourself trembling with a finish. Feeling like electricity was moving from head to toe, your body tenses and you start to have a heavy tremble work it's way through you. You cry out, moaning loudly as you keep yourself bouncing back and forth against him.
The feeling of your finish drove him. The way you tightened around him and moved against his length with desire and need, worked him to release that finish. He let go, his own legs trembling slightly as his fingers press into your skin. At first his head hung back in a moan before it drops down and he starts to give you short, hard thrusts, making sure to coat your insides with his seed.
For a moment, you both stood there, allowing yourselves to come down from the moment. He couldn't help but chuckle, feeling as you press back once more against him. Roman gives a small thwack at your ass and another grip at it for good measure, before he slowly pulls himself from you. It feels like you have lost your sense of legs, they shake under you with a heavy tremble and you wonder if you are even able to walk right now.
Roman smiles, helping you a moment as he turns you back to him and wraps his arms around your waist. His lips met yours and he kisses you deeply before pulling from it, allowing himself a moment to simply look at your features. This man adores you, with every fiber of his being.
"I'm proud of you." He comments. "Why?" You ask quietly, gazing up at him. "You didn't need to use your safe word. You went with it." He tells you honestly before he kisses you again. "How about we get you into a hot bath and I order some food?" He suggests, reaching up to touch the side of your face. You smile at him, feeling almost shy about being praised, but it felt good at the same time. Hearing that you have done good, that you have made him proud, it sort of drives you. It keeps you going. It gives you the motivation to care.
"A bath sound good." You state. It wasn't always easy to let someone take care of you, but right now, it felt right. It was going to be a good night and everything in your body told you that. Roman didn't hesitate, he takes your hand and helps you to the bathroom, making sure that you have fresh clothes and a big, clean, fluffy towel to dry off with. You are a good girl, and he was going to make sure you know it. After all, he's not the type of man to slack.
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mysticmunson · 2 years
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an oldie but a goodie
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endless-ineffabilities · 11 months
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le marquis et le moineau
Marquis de Gramont x f!reader
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themes: angst, twisted business associates(?) to lovers, dubious morals, the Marquis has his eyes set on you and only you (but you don't know that ofc)
a/n: this bloody Frenchman has been plaguing my thoughts (thanks to a very sinister portrayal by one Bill Skarsgård). Mind you, I still haven't even seen the film John Wick 4, but I'm a fan of the series, and the morsels I've seen of the Marquis have been more than enough to give rise to a new lil fixation.
word count: 932 ▪︎ more of moineau ▪︎ other works
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It started as a little game.
Just some passing fancy between yourself and the Marquis.
Or at least, that was what it was supposed to remain. Only that. A game.
But you should have known better. You should have known that any game played with Marquis Vincent de Gramont may eventually turn deadly.
Your high-risk job at the Continental usually also reaped the highest of rewards.
Tip off the right person and receive a gold coin. Deliver a message, without any bumps or bruises to all parties involved, and your reputation would be given a much-needed boost or two.
This business was danger wrapped in deceit wrapped in glamour. And you knew how to deal the right cards.
Although it seems, things are not as easy when it comes to the Marquis.
Vincent was every bit a menace as his reputation decreed. The Marquis tasked with restoring the authority of the High Table, he was nothing short of cunning and ambitious, prepared to take down any and all those who posed a threat to his objectives.
Dangerous. Deceptive. Glamourous as well, mind you. He was perfectly suited to this world.
He was also brazen, pretentious, snobbish.
And beautiful.
He knew just how to tug at your strings and make you bend. Or at least, he always tried to.
Like he was doing then, in one of the bigger rooms in his palacial estate, wherein only the two of you stood with only a few feet in between.
"What did we agree upon, mon moineau?" His silky accented voice implored.
My sparrow, he called you. The reason for which remained undisclosed to you, not for a lack of trying to wrench it out of him.
Why couldn't he call you something sweeter? Of the more classic French romantic sobriquets?
Chérie, perhaps. Mon amour. Mon coeur.
But no. You were stuck with measly ol' "my sparrow".
Of course, not that it mattered. Perhaps the Marquis reserved his sweeter words for those he actually cared for. At the very least, well-regarded enough to be associated with. Those impossibly beautiful and refined members of European aristocracy that he was so often rumoured to be wining and dining.
Unlike you. Renegade, foul-mouthed vagabond.
You stared up at his pacing figure. "I am fully aware of what we agreed upon, Vincent. What I have done does not breach that. I am perfectly capable - "
His head snapped to you menacingly. "You could have been killed, moineau."
You shrugged. "Consequences. I did not enter this damned line of work without considering the risks. As it goes, getting killed would not exactly be an uncommon occurence."
"Don't jest." He shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, in obvious annoyance.
You took a step forward, trying to find his gaze. "And if I were to... pass... so what? Everything would simply go on. The truth is that I'm already a ghost. Doing what I do in our world makes me some kind of spectre. I am already not there."
You knew this. You repeated this to yourself when you woke, and before you went to sleep. It was the only truth you could hold on to.
Until him. Until some buried, twisted part of you began hoping that he would care.
But hope is a dangerous thing.
You continued, as he kept looking away. "You would go on. Perhaps even find a new sparrow to play with."
You felt it. As your words hung in the air, his entire mood shifted. He straightened, and with both hands burrowed in the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers, his eyes land on you.
He slowly took a step forward, and then another, until his figure loomed over you.
In all your shared moments, you learned to discern the quick switches in his temper and his expression. But not enough, not completely.
The look he was giving you then was impossible to read.
"You think..." His left hand drifted to the hem of your blazer, toying with it. "... that I..." His index finger then drifted upward over your silk shirt, stopping in between your collarbones. His tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips, catching your eye. "... would simply replace you?"
You finally felt his touch on your face, his fingers delicately caressing your jawline.
He made a fleeting tsk tsk sound with his tongue, as if in disapproval.
"I believe you underestimate just how much you matter to me, mon moineau."
You did your best to remain unfazed. This was the game, wasn't it? Whatever you might think it can become, what you hope it can unravel into - set it aside as delusion.
Don't fall.
It's just a game to play.
Don't fall.
You took a deep breath, then smiled sweetly. Mockingly. "What makes you think I would even pay any mind to how much I matter to you? That line of thinking doesn't work for people like us, Marquis."
"People like us," he repeated, amusement furrowing his brow. "Non, mon moineau. There are no other people like us."
He leaned in, eyes not leaving yours, all but eliminating the distance between your faces. You could feel his breath on your skin, could count the faint spotting of freckles around his nose.
You wished to ask him what he wanted, but held back.
No. There was something better to say.
"What are you waiting for?" You managed to voice the words despite your very heart lodged in your throat.
He smiled, proud of his precious sparrow.
"Mon coeur... I've been waiting for you my entire life."
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Ahhh! 🖤 Everybody say thank you Bill Skarsgård and the on-set stylist for the visual treat that is the Marquis.
I'm not even sure if this will find the right crowd - seeing as my lovely followers are of the HotD persuasion. But oh well, I had to get it out of my system.
Could be more of this... idk 🤷‍♀️ Rest assured I haven't forgetten about all my series works, even the ones I haven't started but said I would do...
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1K notes · View notes
ilongfor-the-arts · 8 months
Note
Just read the museum marquis fic and I love it. I wonder what would a fanfic where the marquis de gramont met a ballerina reader?
Poetry in Motion
Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader
Warnings: mild language
Summary: A tall and handsome man has been watching you preform for a while. What will happen when he finally chooses to introduce himself?
Word Count: 2.5k
I got multiple reqs for this! So, here ya go! Enjoy!
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“You’re late Y/N!”
I dashed into the locker room, tossing my bag atop the dressing room counter.
“I know! I know! I’m really sorry! My apartment door wouldn’t lock and there was traffic and then-”
My director held up a hand, silencing me.
“I don’t care. Please-just, be ready to go by showtime.”
I nodded vigorously.
“Yes, yes, of course. I will be ready, I promise.”
She quickly turned on her heels and began walking in the opposite direction. Her blue dress swayed gently as the dancers rushed around her. Her spine was straight, her posture rigid.
I don’t blame her. I'm just as nervous as everyone else to see how this performance goes. Unfortunately, I'm a dancer, so rigid posture isn't ideal. I'm forced to keep my anxiety bottled up inside my head.
“Y/N.”
My friend called my name, jolting me from my trance. She was fully dressed, with a full face of makeup. She stared at me, completely stunned.
“Y/N, you better hurry! Everyone else is ready to go!”
I moved rapidly, quickly opening my makeup bag, praying I had enough time.
“What took you so long?”
I slapped my palms against the table, annoyed.
“Oh, Clara, it’s been such an aggravating day.”
I stared at my reflection, watching as the foundation completely coated my face.
“Do tell.”
I took out my eye makeup.
“Well, first my apartment wouldn’t lock.”
I closed one eye and applied eyeshadow as quickly as I could.
“My key wouldn’t work! And of course I couldn’t just leave my apartment unlocked so I had to bother my neighbor to get the spare key I gave her.”
I moved on to the other eye.
“Then there was so much traffic. Then I couldn’t find a good parking spot because I got here so late. Then I had to walk almost six blocks.”
My eye makeup looked... alright. Sure, if I had an extra hour, I could make it look fantastic. But, due to my unfortunate situation, I had to settle for average.
“Wow girl, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”
I pulled out my blush.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think that cute guy will be here tonight.”
I scoffed loudly.
“He’s always here. If he goes four days without seeing a ballet, just assume he’s dead.”
Oh my goodness, that blush color was really clashing with my eyeshadow. Shit! I didn't have time to remove it and start over. Perhaps I could just add another color to my eyes, creating a strange hybrid color that would blend well with the blush.
“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve been here longer than you, and he only started going regularly once you got here.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, right. It’s probably just a coincidence. I doubt he’d spend a shit ton of money on fancy ballet tickets just to see some pretty girl dance.”
I watched Clara shrug from the corner of my eye.
“I dunno. He always dresses like he’s ready to meet the queen, and he sits in a box. He doesn’t seem short on funds. He definitely could be the type to buy ballet tickets just to admire you.”
Okay, the blush and eyeshadow looked fine. I could handle "fine." I could work with "fine.”
“I don’t know Clara. You know, when you watch a performance, faces and names blend together because there are so many people on stage. I doubt he picked me out of the crowd and decided I was going to become the object of his affection.”
I put on some red lipstick, trying not to be distracted by the fact that all the dancers I saw in the mirror were fully prepared.
“Besides, a handsome man like that?... he probably has a girlfriend.”
Clara perked up.
“Oh, so you admit you think he’s handsome.”
I rolled my eyes for a second time.
“I mean, come on Clara, look at him!”
Clara let out a loud and obnoxious laugh. My face turned hot. Thankfully, the makeup covered most of the natural pink that had begun to appear on my cheeks.
“Oh my God you have a little crush on him, don’t you!”
I held up my hands in defense.
“I am not having this conversation right now!”
I stood, rushing over to the costume rack.
“I’ve never seen him with a girl Y/N! I think he’s single and ready to mingle!”
Clara’s loud voice drew some attention. I swiveled on my heels and placed a finger to my lips.
“Sh!”
-
The show was finished, and the final bows were taken.
The roar of the crowd washed over me like a wave. I was moved to know that they were all applauding for this performance. As the entire company gathered for one final bow, I observed the crowd's faces contort into bright smiles. I felt moved knowing that at least one person in the audience was thinking about what a wonderful job I did tonight.
I hoped it was the man whose appearance I had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.
The gold theater sparkled. The red seats gradually vanished as people rose to pay their respects to the performers.
I was unable to avoid glancing around at the various people in the crowd. I started in the box seats, hoping to spot a tall man with a penchant for fashion.
No luck.
My gaze was drawn to the floor seats. I scanned them all as quickly as I could. Maybe he sat closer? If he truly came to see me, it wouldn't hurt to get the best view possible in the front row.
No luck.
I'm not sure why I was so desperate for him to be here. Nonetheless, I felt my heart sink slightly as I considered the possibility that he missed tonight's performance.
We finished with a company bow. We waved goodbye, and quickly scattered off the stage.
“Y/N!”
Clara exclaimed as we walked back to the dressing rooms.
“You did so well! Jesus, I thought for sure you’d be all scattered from coming in late, but you really pulled it off well!”
I didn't notice her hands cutting through the air as she spoke. I didn't even bother looking at her. I kept my head down, stuffing various cosmetics into my black backpack.
“Thanks Clara.”
I said flatly.
“Alright, what’s going on? Who’s got you bummed?”
I grit my teeth.
“He’s not here tonight.”
Clara leaned in.
“What did you say?”
“I said he’s not here tonight!”
I snapped involuntarily. Clara retreated.
“Woah woah, how do you know this?”
“I didn’t see him in the crowd.”
Clara furrowed her brow.
“Come on Y/N, there’s thousands of people in that crowd! There’s no way you could’ve checked every seat for him!”
My lips were pursed. Clara wrapped her hands around my shoulders, soothing me. She leaned into my ear, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“I bet he showed up tonight. And if he didn’t, it was his loss entirely.”
-
The cold Paris air bit at my exposed skin. The chill penetrated my tank top, chilling me to the bone. I drew the sides of my peacoat together, attempting to conceal my torso and thighs from the wind.
I began to stroll, trying to enjoy the lovely Paris evening despite the fact that so much was less than ideal.
After about thirty paces, I was struck by an uneasy sense that someone was watching me. I initially ignored it. There were numerous high-rise apartment buildings. I'm sure that feeling came from being a window away from someone's living space, and the possibility that someone was watching me inadvertently.
I couldn't shake the feeling even after another thirty paces. The buildings in this particular neighborhood were completely dark. That is, everyone was sleeping, and if anyone was watching me, it probably would go unnoticed by bystanders.
I took a peek over my shoulder to ensure my intuition was correct.
About thirty feet behind me was a tall, lanky man in a black coat.
Alright, probably just a coincidence-
Wait.
I did a double take.
Holy shit.
It was the guy from the ballet!
This all is just one big coincidence.
I kept my head down, trying to maintain my composure.
His footsteps became audible. I focused on them, noticing that they were becoming slightly louder with every step.
Shit.
Shit!
God, this guy is a total creep! How could I be so stupid?!
I’m about to get totally kidnapped!
I started to move faster, trying to appear calm despite being aware that my heart was pounding in my ears. My blood rushed to my heart, leaving my face pale and cold.
God, he’s getting closer!
Jesus my stomach is in knots!
“Don’t look so frightened, darling.”
The man’s velvety accent pierced the air like a knife. My heart jumped.
I’m fucked.
“Really, I just want to talk with you.”
No way in hell was I stopping. My calves burned. My eyes were wide. My hands trembled within my pockets.
My chest came into contact with something solid. I stumbled back, looking up.
Oh my goodness, he was right in front of me.
How did he get there without me hearing?
The heat left my body.
I stood, wide eyed and perplexed.
The man's neutral gaze softened as he noticed my anxiety.
“I am very sorry to have frightened you, madame. I am simply a fan wishing to pay my respects.”
He placed a hand on his chest.
“I promise, I mean no harm. There is no reason to be frightened.”
He was considerably taller than me. In two seconds, he could pick me up and throw me into the back of a shady white van.
Nonetheless, his luxurious accent and courteous eyes made me believe he was telling the truth. So I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly.
“Did you come and see the show tonight?”
A smirk played on the corners of his lips.
“But of course. It would be foolish of me to disregard the opportunity to observe such talent.”
Wow, I'm going to give credit where credit is due. He’s a smooth talker. He speaks with such elegance. I'm unable to ignore his words. With bated breath, I await each sentence.
“Well, that is very kind of you to say.”
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black overcoat, shrugging nonchalantly.
“I only convey the complete truth. In my lifetime, I have seen hundreds of ballets, operas, and plays. It is uncommon to find such a passion for the arts in the hearts of the prefromers. Few people allow creativity to encompass every aspect of them. But, I have noticed fire within you.”
He glanced deeply into my eyes, as if he wanted to capture some of the "fire" within me and preserve it for himself.
“I can tell by the way you dance and command the stage.”
The gentle breeze rustled the end of his overcoat as his pale eyes shone in the pale moonlight. He exuded a sense of mystery that beckoned me to embrace the unknown.
“Your blood runs red with creativity.”
He came to a halt, his piercing gaze catching my lips before darting back to my eyes.
“And, your beauty is unmatched.”
Forget about my face being cold; it was now scorching hot. I just hope I kept enough blush on my cheeks to hide the natural pink.
He extends his leg, the buckle of his pricey loafer catching the moonlight. He steps closer, the wonderful aroma of whiskey and bergamot wafting into my nose. The scent cloud muffles my brain, making me dizzy with anticipation.
“How long have you been dancing for?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Oh, well, my entire life. I started the moment I could walk and I’ve pretty much been in the dance studio everyday since.”
The enigmatic man nodded, pleased with my response. I took my hands from my pockets, as they were sweating despite the chill.
“And… Do you enjoy it?”
I nodded vigorously.
“Yes, I remember, um-.”
I took a deep breath, careful not to trip over my words and reveal that my heart was racing.
“I remember my first official dance class. I was- about four or five.”
I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.
“All the kids were complaining. I mean, y’know, at that age it basically is just an excuse for the parents to get their obnoxious kids out of the house.”
He chuckled.
Yes!
“But I never complained, not once. I loved it from the start. And, it’s completely consumed my life since then.”
He took another step forward. The distance between us was almost non-existent now. To meet his gaze, I had to almost completely crane my neck back.
“I can tell. You don’t just dance, you float over the stage. It really is beautiful to watch.”
His voice dropped to a sultry whisper.
“You are beautiful to watch.”
My stomach flipped.
My breath caught in my throat as he cupped my face with his hand. His grip was gentle, as if he were coddling a baby bird.
My mind was empty, a void waiting to be filled by him.
He exhaled deeply, a breath fanning over my face. I instinctively leaned into him, craving his warmth, craving his scent, craving…
Him.
He ran his calloused thumb along my cheekbone. My face was burning. I knew he could feel it beneath his palm.
He grinned.
“You have a very bright future in the arts. Paris is only the beginning.”
I could sense the tension rising. I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for something magnificent to unfold.
A hug?
A proclamation of love?
A kiss?
“I hope and pray that you will allow me to be an integral component of your bright future.”
He slipped something into my empty pocket sneakily. He smiled broadly. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was enticing, so simple yet so effective.
“Call me, Ma chère.”
He took a step back, turned, and began to stroll away. My shoulders loosened. My chest gave way. My cheeks had lost their warmth. The tension had been released.
I could breathe.
I could think.
“Wait!”
I shouted. He glanced over his shoulder.
His figure looked very intriguing. Most of his ridges and curves were hidden by his long coat. It enticed one to venture into uncharted territories.
“What’s your name?”
He scoffed.
“When you call, I will tell you.”
900 notes · View notes
twistedbloodstain · 3 months
Note
I have two ideas for the marquis de framing that I think you’d do great writing!
1: where the reader is interrogating the marquis (meaning she kidnapped him) and through there, they start to get feelings for each other
2: reader (who had a relationship of some sort with the marquis) fakes their death because they couldn’t take the assassin world. The marquis is devastated (lots of angst hehehe). They meet again while the reader is trying to help someone (maybe John, lol)
3: reader who is part of the high table meets the marquis for the first time. Sorta like live at first sight.
vincent de gramont x reader: i could never give you peace | what’s meant to be is supposed to be
plot: the one where he finds you again.
warnings: the reader’s a medic/healer in here SORRYYY…, she knew john from before, he rats her out lolz, kidnapping except vincent doesn’t do it this time..(yay! cuz he forced someone else to do it!!!), anon im so sorry i focused too hard on one part, i will do an extra (i swear)
masterlist
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“stay still.” you mumble.
mr. wick lets out a small grunt while you sew his wound back together, nothing too fatal (at least in his standards) but without the help of any anesthesia or alcohol to soothe the pain, the assassin had no choice but to follow.
“don’t worry, it's almost done.” you whisper almost finished with patching up the flesh on his back. “and..there..”
he immediately gets off his seat and reaches for his shirt stationed on a random desk scattered with medical supplies. he digs into his suit jacket and fishes out a coin and hands it over to you, you accept it eagerly and begin cleaning up.
“you need any help with transport?” you inquire while you discard your bloodied gloves and utensils.
“yeah.”
“on your way out turn left and find the guy with a gray jacket. he’s one of winston’s men, he’ll help you out. where are you headed?” you inquire while washing your hands. he hesitantly answers before offering a reply.
“paris.”
“oh.” you stop in your movements and look at him. he stands near the door way all dressed up with blood caking his temples, he still looks rugged and in no shape to do what he has to do in pairs but your opinion likely doesn’t matter to him.
“good luck, i guess.” you mutter.
“you’ve been there.” he says.
“i..have.” you hope he doesn’t press any further.
“what’s in paris?” he questions but doesn’t take a step further.
“for you?” you uneasily say, he doesn’t reply.
“a dangerous man. i..think you’ll die trying just to get what you want, mr. wick. but hey, who knows? maybe, it’s now him.” you explain.
“the guy who had the continental demolished, was it him?” he sternly asks.
“..yes, i think it was him.” you confess, avoiding his eyes.
it had been almost three years since you left that country.
three years since you left him.
you can’t even bear to say his name because if you do, all of it will spill out. how he met you, how kept you and how he loved you. 
he nods, “and for you?”
“an even more dangerous man.”
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 ever since mr. wick entered and left your clinic. you've been in a constant state of anxiety. the mere thought and mention of him had you nervous, especially when you heard that he was in new york a few days ago. you thought it was all over, that he found you and was going to rip you from your freedom in this city.
the following news shocked you to your core, the new york continental being demolished was not in your bingo card as to why he’d be here. all because of an excommunicated assassin which you had tended to almost a day after the bombing.
although you’re horrified with the state of events, relief flooded you when you realized he wasn’t there for you. you’d still be safe from him.
but you can’t help but think what all of this means for him. at some point, you know that john wick will kill him, and you somehow played a part in it. you feel a tinge of regret for him but it’s quickly overshadowed with the horrors he’s done and you don’t feel as bad.
he did like you though, when you still worked at france for him as his estate medic. whenever he found himself wounded in the line of fire in an ambush attack, you were the one who tended to his wounds and saw him at his weakest. you don’t know why but a strong sense of trust was established between the two of you.
you thought it to be a friendship but fleeting glances of affection would seep through when you talked or when a large bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared in your clinic after patching him up. 
you toyed with a pin he gave you, his insignia. only he wore it proudly on his coat and truly, it warmed you to him. he did make you feel appreciated, small touches on your back and sometimes fiddling with your hands whenever you sewed his wounds, gave you butterflies in your stomach.
with you he was just…vincent.
soft words and touches with soulful eyes looking into yours, just gentleness and affection present in him. it made you indulge into it too, that he isn’t the cruel man people made him out to be. he isn’t heartless, that’s just how the world is.
a naive perspective.
a perspective that was easily shattered when you’d hear a bloodcurdling scream from the barn, and he walks out with blood on his hands and a disgusted look on his face from his clothes being stained. gunshots echoing beneath the servant’s staircases and thudding bodies being dragged into the secluded forests of the estate. you whisper to yourself those very same words even if all his actions sent chills on your spine.
but the truth of it is that, he is heartless. he is the man people made him out to be and you’re a fool thinking he could be better for you but at the end of the day, he is still the marquis.
it made you think. what if this is all a game to him? what if the moment he finds you uninteresting you become another stain on his suit? 
it’s not a secret that men like him love having delicate pretty things only to break them apart. that’s all you are his current delicate and pretty thing.
you decided to leave. you weren’t staying long enough to find out what would happen to you, feelings be damned when you’re easily replacable to him. you knew that the marquis was like a dog to a bone when he didn’t get the things he wanted, which only pooled fears into your stomach should he find you in new york.
he cannot have you.
you stare at the pin before chucking the pin somewhere in the room, you get up from your chair and begin closing the windows from your clinic.
a knock comes from the door, you chuck the remaining medical materials into a random desk and walk up to the door. wounded assassins aren’t a strange occurrence at this time of the evening but something…felt different.
your gut was telling you to ignore the person on the other side and stay still. you thought that maybe if you didn’t answer the person would go away. wanting to play things safe you don’t mutter a word that would alert them of your presence. it usually worked in some cases.
the knocking persists, much harder and louder now. your hands begins to shake and your eyes start looking around for an emergency firearm to help defend yourself, your actions frantically halt when you hear a voice through the door.
“doc?” a gruff voice asks.
you sight and put a hand on your chest. it’s just john wick. you eagerly open the door to let him in.
“john.” you greet, “come inside.” you invite him as you walk inside.
john doesn’t follow you and a confused expression takes your face, until you take a good look at him. for the first time, john wick doesn’t look wounded to you, his face and hands void of any blood, a new bulletproof suit adorning his body, a french one you notice but it still leaves you questioning things.
“i’m assuming france went successful.” you say.
“…it’s close.” he pauses before replying, seeming as if he’s finding the right words to say.
“what do you need?” you question.
“it’s winston. he’s been shot.” you freeze.
oh dear. you never really approved of the things he did but a soft spot was always present for him and charon. they helped you settle here in new york, but winston took you in even when he knew of your history with vincent. you swore to always help him in ways you could and now the opportunity presented itself.
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the car sped down the street with you and john in tow. you hold your medical kit close to your lap, feeling uneasy with the thought of losing the old man. charon had been so recent and you don’t think you bear to lose the friends you’ve made along the way.
you glance at john and he looks calm and composed as usual, eerily so. a week earlier he was calm but you could feel his anger and determination simmering underneath his skin. now it looked like he was taking a walk in a park. you eye him carefully, uneasiness seeping in your stomach.
“did they give it to you?” you ask, he looks at you before clearing his throat.
“just an extension.” he answers, knowing exactly what you were referring to.
“to do what?” you ask again, john doesn’t budge and continues driving, ignoring your question. your eyes stay on him but he doesn’t look at you.
silence settles into the car and you lean back in your seat. you really wish your brought your gun with you right now. you don’t know why but you have a feeling that something is wrong right now, especially with john. he’s not telling you something.
or maybe it really is none of your business. perhaps he wanted to spare the bloody details of how he’s going to win his freedom back. you relax and try to forget the uneasiness, trying to remember that winston is the priority right now, you shut your eyes. all of your fears are gathering together and it’s making you overthink your interaction with john, everything’s okay.
the loud sound of drilling makes you open your eyes, you look at the window and you see a familiar street. 
the new york continental was being rebuilt.
your apprehensiveness returns.
“john?” you look at him once again, “who shot winston?”
“he got hit during the line of fire.” this time he replies.
bullshit. winston would have an emergency plan before the shooting started.
“in new york?” you press.
“yeah.”
another bullshit. you could see through his lies, he’s clearly fresh out of france. what was he trying to do? 
“j-john.” you voice shakes almost as if you’re begging. something happened in france, something that saved both winston and john.
he looks at you with regret in his eyes. not enough to save you for what’s about to come.
“where are you taking me?” you sputter, your heart beating fast in anxiety, “i’ve done nothing but help you, please don’t do this!”
“he took winston with him and he found out.” he quietly defends.
“please help me, i don’t want to go back!” you begin crying, tears rolling down your face, “he’ll kill me!” 
he makes no reply and continues driving. with no hope left with him, you try to open your side of the door. he immediately notices this and grabs your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you begin hitting him with your other arm.
you know that he doesn’t want to do this but it feels so unfair. you’ve saved his life only to throw yours away.
“let go of me!” you scream.
“i’m sorry.” 
you feel a prick in your neck.
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you feel a heavy sensation pulling at your leg, your eyes feeling groggy still wanting to keep your lids closed. however the sensation persists and this forces you to open your eyes and sit up.
a dark room welcomes you, only a small lamp helping you take a small look of where you are. specifically, on a plush bed and a decorated room. your body feels heavy  from exhaustion which makes you lean back to the pillow behind you.
pondering what made you feel so tired when you haven’t done much for the night, you’ve sewn back together…a pair of assassins for the night? or was it three? two austrians and…who?a french? no…no..it was winston. 
that’s right.
wait.
only you didn’t treat winston.
you bolt up, your body seemingly sobers from the realization.
john brought you here in exchange for his freedom. 
you look around to see some sort of presence in the room but with the darkness it was hard to tell, nevertheless you hopped off the bed and bolted to the wooden door nearby. no wonder the place looked familiar, only the marquis would have a place as frivolous as this.
you need to leave right now. your hand reaches for the door until you find your body being slammed on the floor. a groan leaves your throat, in pain you massage your forehead and look around.
oh goodness.
a gasp leaves your mouth when you see a chain wrapped around your ankle, you inspect your foot before tracing the lines of chains, which were sourced on the thick foot of the bed you were on.
you tug it to check its strength and to see how long it actually goes. it was long enough to walk around the room but not long enough to reach the door. this is basically your fully furnished torture chamber. 
fuck. fuck. fuck.
a loud creak echoes through the room.
you really hate how things are right now.
he’s going to kill you. kill you for leaving him, how you easily made him look humiliated for being abandoned.
feeling your knees weaken you sit back on the bed and your hands shake in trepidation. the marquis’ simple presence made you scared of him, you felt tears falling down once again and you lowered your head, not wanting to look weak right now.
his footsteps are heard through the room, the door loudly closes shut, a thud echoing. he doesn’t say a word.
you feel everything leave your body. hope,freedom and life mostly.
he walks up to you until you see his shoes on the floor, a blurry sight entering your eyes due to the tears, he touches you, tilting your chin upwards and you do everything not to flinch. was he going to snap your neck?
you look at him and he still looks the same, slightly more mature.
but the same man you met a few years ago, if you jumped back into your rose tinted glasses, you’d probably see the vincent you cherished at some point if you weren’t so frightened right now.
he inspects you, his eyes wandering through your face. searching for something that’s supposed to be there, his lips part almost as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it.
“i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” apologies spill out of your lips, wanting to take the chance of saving yourself, “i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to.” you cry. your hand reaches up to his hand that held your chin and you grip it for mercy, his hold on you weakens.
he doesn’t say anything and leans forward to you. you need him to say something, anything, whether it meant he’d simply say he wants yuu dead.
“please forgive me, just please don’t kil-“ he cuts you off.
with a kiss.
not a firm one but a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips.
he takes your hands into his and fiddles with it, trying to find his place in them just like before, he halts the kiss and leans towards your face. the man right in front of you wasn’t the marquis, it was vincent. 
your vincent.
the one with soft eyes looking at you with relief and adoration. the gaze that looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, he wipes the tears on your cheeks and the next thing he says dissolves all sense of worry out of you.
“i could never hurt you.” he whispers.
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author’s note: this kinda doesn’t make sense bc im so braindead rn to expand things but basically vincent finds medic!reader through winston and in exchange for the continental and john’s freedom, john brings medic!reader back to vincent. so basically she got ratted out lolz. this would work better if i made a vincent pov would be fun but i have a bunch of prompts to work on…(tempting) + he literally chained her down to him (hshshsh marriage allegory…) i kinda want to be funky dynamic of obsessed man + “ngl what’s wrong with this guy but i vibe with it” woman
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alphabetbill · 10 months
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So I did a thing. It was a stupid thing probably, but a fun thing nonetheless. Anyway, if you love John Wick and you love Bill Skarsgård and his character, The Marquis, in the 4th movie, then please consider giving my new project a read! I’ve got such fun planned and cannot wait to share it. At the moment my target audience is Wattpad, but let me know if you’d be interested in seeing it here on tumblr also.
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rafecameronsslxt · 1 year
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Shame
Soft!Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Wife!Reader
Synopsis: The people of France take your relationship with your husband to be described as loss of affection, but when you confront Vincent he becomes angry at you. Vincent takes his time to apologize with sex.
Warnings: SMUT, dry humping, p in v, fem receiving, and arguing.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Masterlist
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France was a heavily ill-rumoured country but had the rumours of your relationship with the newly crowned Marquis been as bad as the mass was saying? That we looked estranged and angry anytime we were out together in public, which had been rare considering John Wick was running about killing, and we had security every hour of the day, sometimes even becoming a little too invasive.
   Our bedroom was remarkably dark. It was fitting and not what I had wanted, but Vincent decided I had no say. The people we paid did as he said, walls black with a pretty shade of gold, an elegant crystal chandelier, and a king-sized bed with a headboard made of the finest materials. As a natural, we also got black silk sheets that melted your body to the bed until you never wanted to get up. 
   Our relationship wasn’t exceedingly…estranged. Vincent never seemed to have time for you anymore. His wife couldn’t fit into his schedule, and when you tried to talk with Vincent about the situation plaguing your mind, he’d get angry and shout at you for any reason because he locks his feelings up, not daring to tell you his emotions. 
   Tonight you were feeling explicitly irritated at Vincent, making it more than apparent when you got ready for bed beside him in the massive bathroom, sighing, grumbling, or throwing angry glances his way that he wouldn’t acknowledge. So instead, he heads to his study like every other night. 
   You walked the large hall in a rose gold silk bralette and bottoms with a slit on both sides of the thigh but in a tasteful fashion. You walked in unannounced, fed up with the formalities with your own husband. His dark green eyes glanced up at you and quickly returned to the papers he was sorting out on the polished wooden desk.
   Your hands massage his shoulders softly like you’d done a million times before and attempts to leave marks on his neck, but he shrugs you off quicker than expected. You try gliding your hands under his robe, feeling his bare chest. “What do you need?” Finally, Vincent says something. You sit on the papers, seeing his face turn with outrage. “I need you.” You say, needy, watching him pinch the bridge of his nose. 
   Vincent picks you up by your thighs and drops you to your feet by the door. He plasters a fake smile at you and opens the swarthy wooden door. “No. I’m not leaving Vincent. You never make time for me. You don’t even touch me when we sleep in the same bed!” You raise your voice at him, being the only person who can actually shout at him, but he can get louder when he wants to. 
   His face falters at the change in your voice, and a pout becomes a complaint on your face, lips puffed out and looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “You always have to be so ungrateful for everything. I give you anything you want, and this is how I get thanked, sweetheart!” Vincent shouts at you, backing you into the railing outside his study. You flinch at his loud words in your ears, but they don’t just stop. He keeps going. “I’m trying to protect you and figure out John Wick before things fly off the handle. Do you want to go-” He stops mid-sentence, regret palpable on his face. “You’re going to do what. Kill me? Asshole, I can’t believe you right now.” You force his hands away from you, pacing back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut in his face, but he slams it harder, echoing throughout our home. 
   “You always act like a child!” His voice reverberated around the room. I throw my hands in the air. “It’s always me, Vincent! If you would just tell me what’s wrong with you. I mean, I get it, baby. You're not good with feelings, but please.” You were desperate, pleading with him to give in because you couldn’t handle another argument. The tears I was holding back slipped out slowly. He motions for you to sit on his lap as he glides a hand through his unusually dishevelled hair.
   Vincent’s complexion becomes soft. He kisses your plump red lips lightly and leans his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry.” You nod at his delicate words that you get to lavish in. This was almost new, a foreign feeling you’d missed. You softly grind your hips onto his. Vincent lets a deep chuckle flow into your ears. He’s got a little smile adorning his face while Vincent’s hands take off the silky bralette, but his tender lips take their time kissing your collarbone, nape of your neck (surely to leave pretty purple circles), and boobs, like he was re-remembering your body meter by meter. 
   His lips connect to your nipples, sucking on them and tongue running over your now extremely sensitive boobs while your hips move faster, feeling his hard-on pressing against your clit. You became so entranced at the moment that you started speaking French. “Je t’aime tellement.” You moan out into his ear. (I love you so much)
   Vincent hums out in agreement with you. He stops your hips, and you look at him, confused. His green eyes had brightened with the happiness you took advantage of before he’d been crowned. “Tu m’as manqué, ma chérie.” His face was as serious as ever, and his irises had a tinge of sparkle when you hid your face in the crook of his neck. (You are missing from me, sweetheart, or I’ve missed you, sweetheart)
   The spark left when he flipped your back to the silky black sheets, his fingers wrapping around the waistband of both your shorts and panties, pulling them off eagerly. Vincent’s hands run over the smooth shaved skin of your body, smelling of jasmine and lavender, along with the essential oils used to keep clear skin. He takes a deep breath and begins kissing your thighs, each delicate kiss placed until his mouth reaches where you need him the utmost. 
   His tongue glides up and down your slit, teasing you, but the littlest touch articulates soft whimpers falling from your parted mouth while he looks into your eyes. Two fingers slip inside of you with ease, and then his mouth sucks on your clit. Vincent had never been a soft man, nor had he ever claimed to be, but when he was, it was the best pleasure you’d ever experienced, his soft French accent rich in your ear, whispering sweet nothings and making up for the things he’s done. 
   His fingers pick up the pace, but not enough to be considered rough, and you were more than satisfied to be treated gently after his harshness this past week. His tongue was doing overtime because of the flicking and suctioning, and fingers moving in and out had your thighs clenching around his head, eyes rolling to the back of your head, loud moans resounding from wall-to-wall back to Vincent's ears, making him harder than he already was. You were on the edge of release when his mouth and fingers left your body, emitting a groan. You hadn’t noticed he was naked until now. His plunging v-line and defined abdomen and his thin body are surprisingly muscular too, as you’ve been manhandled more times than you could count, especially when he thrives off inflicting pain on others around him, so the soft side of him threw you off sometimes.
   He kisses you passionately despite tasting yourself simultaneously, pulling you by your thighs, and you feel his tip enter you, a gasp escaping your mouth. “It’s been this long?” His sentence is terse, and you nod, arms being thrown around his broad shoulders. Then, he bottoms out in you, and with pleasure comes pain because as much as it felt good, it’d take a minute to get comfortable. He moves in and out of you slowly, but even that was hard as you had been so tight that it was a problem to move, but eventually, he got into the rhythm, which was harsher than anticipated. 
   Your pedicured nails scratch his back, leaving red streaks that would satisfy the damage you have done to him, to remember tonight. His calloused fingers circle your clit quickly, and you don’t think you’d last another second. “I’m coming!” Tears fall from your eyes out of pleasure, and you hear his soft whispers, but he continues to thrust into you, becoming overstimulated. You then feel his hot cum cover your velvety insides. His grunts and curses fell from his kissable plump lips that you did kiss, and he pulled out, feeling his cum drip down your thighs. 
   Vincent enters the bathroom and returns with a damp washcloth, cleaning you up. He softly lies beside you, his arms around your waist, leaving no room for air, but you just wanted him to be close, and he was for once. It felt euphoric to have your husband back, kissing your shoulder until your eyes fall heavy and sleep carries you peacefully.
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