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writingbyshiloh · 1 year

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Cautious yet optimistic and graceful

Part 2 & Part 3

CW: Morally gray reader, Fem!Reader, John Wick type of violence, drinking, Marquis is a bit of an ass, French is not the reader's native language but there are only 2 sentences in French. Both say “City of Lights” but the reader's French is off.(will update as the fic goes)

AN: if the title is still messed up idk what to say I have been working too many hours. I have parts 2 and 3 planned if there is an interest! IDK French sunset times nor the weather so just roll with it. I also watched the entirety of community s4 so if he's ooc blame it on that. No beta

The other managers have it easier you think. If anything goes wrong in New York, that's okay because New York is gritty. Paris has such a large history and many different names that it is hard to include in one hotel. In Casablanca, Sofia has her dogs with her at all times so the hotel is a bit more laid back. Maybe you are just bitter because your hotel in Paris is considered to be the epitome of class. 5-star dining, showing off the best French cheeses, hotel complete with a small vineyard for exclusive house-made wines.

Maybe because you share the city with a very wealthy and powerful agent of the table. Marquis Vincent de Gramont was a thorn in your side. While never made explicit you felt like he had a hand in making you manager.

Whether it was him wanting fresh blood running and influencing the Continental or your previous weapon (swords, often French by some weird coincidence) when you were still doing hits for the high table pulling on some patriotic thread in him. The not knowing gave you small comfort.

You liked the concierge though, a woman named Camielle. You were given the option to fire her but declined wanting to make sure someone understood the hotel, at least during your few years running it.

The gentle buzzing of your desk phone took you out of the work you were doing. Using the back end of your pen you punched the answer button.

“Marquis de Gramont asked if you're free for dinner tonight. I said yes.” Camielle told her, her French accent coming across even on the phone.

You bite back a whine. The threat of Marquis visiting always buzzed in the back of your head and you were sure that while not a member of the high table, he had enough power (in many senses of the word) to fully shut down your hotel. You also never spent time with him alone. You would occultly see him at some “business” even that was far and few between.

You nod your head, before realizing that she couldn't see you.

“What time? Did he say where?”

“Huit. Eight. He said the rooftop.”

You thank her before she hung up, probably to help a guest.

Of course, he did. The location was formal, secluded and your favourite. Should you bring a guard? He won’t kill you, business is forbidden in Continental grounds you thought stabbing your pen against the notepad in front of you.

While replaying the conversation in your head, the realization that he didn’t specify why he wanted to go to dinner hit.

The rooftop was your favourite place in the hotel. Seeing other parts of Paris made the hotel feel small, like a normal business other than a safe haven for the criminal underworld as well as regular tourists alike.

You went up early, earlier than the expected time. You could brainstorm what he wanted to talk about. New ideas that you decided to implement to various levels of success? You're planning on something to do with a section of the Catacombs, but no solid ideas yet.

You kept one security guard by the door, to the roof, while Chidi was someone skulking around somewhere. You talked to the chef before and arranged a menu for the evening. If the Marquis didn't like it you were sure that he would implore you to make changes.

His arrival was heard of before you saw him. A small nod from one of your guards alerted you that he was on his way up. You feel your nerves clawing in your stomach, back to fixating on why he wants this meeting.

While you hate to give him credit, he looks good. A suit that only seems to accentuate his long legs, a stunning red suit jacket, with a black tie and vest all over a white dress shirt. The chains across his vest and ring glinted in the light. He wouldn't be Vincent if not for dressing up like this. You slightly deflated realizing this was probably what he was wearing and not something special to see you.

Bottle of champagne set in the ice bucket, stamped with the Continental embossing. He didn't change your menu so you assumed that he was content with it. Hoping you only had to so small talk with him until the food arrived or he decided to drop some sort of bomb on you.

“The view is beautiful,” he said, gaze burning into you. Wonderful. You have to make small talk before whatever he is here for is here.

You turned your head to see the Elifle tower situated against the evening sky.

“It is.” you agree as you turn your face back to him, realizing that he never looked at the surroundings, but was looking at you.

“C’est la ville du lumier”. Maybe the conversation would go faster if it was in french.

“'La ville lumière'” he corrects you before switching back to English. “You do not use the 'du'”.

Heat rises to your face after making a small mistake in French.

“Sorry. My French is primarily used for business.” You let the last word hang in the air, both knowing what you meant.

“How you do anything is how you do everything, Mademoiselle,” He says changing the subject.

Like being annoying you think in reference to him choosing to call you mademoiselle, most show you respect by calling you The Manager, keeping with the sister hotels. You take a slow sip of your drink, stalling for anything to say.

He places his hand on yours.

“You approached dinner with me like you approach your hotel. Cautious yet optimistic Gracefully.”

You sit in stunned silence. He gives your hand a small squeeze bringing your attention back to him,

“That is a compliment.” he continues. “It is good to see fresh ideas in the Continental.”

You thank him quietly, thoughts racing as you try to pull everything together. He likes your ideas? All of the compliments, his hand on yours, the romantic location. Is he flirting with you? Does his speech about the way you do anything apply to him in the bedroom? What would that even be? Still annoying?

He takes a sip of his wine, the movement snapping you out of your perverted thoughts, finally, you find an opening for actual conversation.

“I was thinking of something underground. With the catacombs? Or something inspired by them.”

You think he mumbled ‘tourist” under his breath but decided to let it slide. He tilts his head indicating you to keep going.

“And something maybe like a speakeasy?” You saw him about to correct you but you kept speaking “Even though France only banned absinthe.”

You expected him to be annoyed and you were only half right. Part of him was irritated, the other part proud that you are learning history.

A slight clearing of the throat grabbed your attention. The food.

“Marquis de Gramont. Manager.” The server nodded toward you both before setting down the plates and leaving.

The dinner a few weeks ago was the first time you spent time with him one on one (as long as you didn't include his guards). However, a quick mutual liking based on annoying each other took place. Almost like childish flirting, if you thought that he would date. Does he have an arranged marriage? You forbid yourself from googling Marquis traditions and rules.

And maybe on the side of your friendship, you had a small crush. You tried to avoid it and push your feelings down to nothing, but a flash of his long legs in his exquisite style, or his voice pulls your feelings back to yourself.

He could just be lonely. You didn't know his exact age but you guessed early 30s. Given the years of practice and training, those successful in your business were older. You were somewhat close to him in age, closer to him than some of the big names.

Giving in you picked up your phone and punched in one of his numbers. While the phone rang you picture one of his staff bringing him the phone, probably on some kind of silver platter. On the few times you called him before one of his staff answered, asking you why you were calling.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle. What do you need?”

Oh shit. That's not his butler. That’s him.

“Do you know much about wine? And are you free tomorrow night?” You try not to sound nervous and unsure on the phone, but his answering threw off your game.

“Oui, and oui.”

Taglist: @heartrot666 (it will not let me tag you :-( )

#Marquis de gramont x reader #john wick movie x reader #Vincent de Gramont x reader #ITS DONE!!!!!!!!! wooohooooo #pls be nice the J/ohn W/ick fandom seems to be bigger than my normal 3 people for r/ed

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bluelolblue · 4 months

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Happy birthday @evren-sadwrn ! I wrote this fanfic with Santino and Vincent for you! I'm really glad we became moots and I love yapping about JW characters with you (especially abt Santino) so I wanted to show you that I really appreciate you! This is my gift for you! 💖

The Roses

I hope you'll like it! Sending hugs! <3

So many different flowers grew in the garden. Especially roses. The D'Antonio family is fond of flowers but the roses are among the favorites.

Santino watched those roses through the window of his bedroom, they're beautiful to him, they have a special place in his heart. He used to plant them with his mother when he was a little boy.

"Santi."

He heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Vincent." Santino smiled as he saw him. "How are you, mon chéri?" Vincent hugged him, gently going through his hair from behind. Santino was a bit suprised to see him since he always let's him know that he's gonna come over.

"I'm okay. Thank you." Santino murmured, finding the hug rather comforting.

After the hug, Vincent pressed a gentle kiss on top of Santino's head, murmuring something in French as they sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay? I heard you got hurt, too." Santino said, glancing him but Vincent seemed just fine. "Ah, nothing serious. Couple of bruises that's all." Vincent said, looking down at the floor before looking back at him.

"I'm sorry that happened, Santi. I did told you not to do that, didn't I? I didn't want you to get hurt." Vincent had a talk with some of his potential new associates but things kinda didn't go as planned and it got worse when Santino tried to help.

He ended up being hurt. Beaten up, calling out Vincent's name for help. However, Vincent didn't show up to save him.

"I know...I'm sorry-" Santino apologized but Vincent caressed his cheek, making eye contact with him. "No, don't apologize. It was my fault. And I didn't hear you calling me...I'm so sorry, Santi. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." He said softly and pressed few kisses on his forhead while he held Santino's hands.

"You got hurt, too. I just..." Santino paused and sighed, looking to the side. "I didn't know who else to call out." He felt ashamed to admit to be this weak, but he had no reasons to feel ashamed in front of Vincent, right? They're dating after all.

"I should've been there for you, I'll never forgive myself that-" Vincent started to almost panic while saying all this, but Santino cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. A soft kiss on the lips. "I'm okay, I'm here, I survived it." Santino said softly, looking into Vincent's eyes.

Vincent nodded, taking a hold of Santino's hands and pulling them down as he held them. "I'm so glad you're okay." Vincent said and pressed a deep long kiss on Santino's lips.

Santino moaned softly into in the kiss, finding it difficult to even breathe when Vincent was kissing him like this. It got more passionate, with Vincent forcing his tongue into his mouth, eating him alive. And Santino was lost into the kiss just like always.

"I'll make it up to you, miel." Vincent whispered against his lips, wiping off saliva that was on the side of Santino's mouth. Santino sighed shakily and nodded, looking at him sympathetically. No. It was more in in a needy, admiring way. Just like he always looks at him when Vincent kisses him.

"Can I see your wounds, please?" Vincent asked after a minute. Santino blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yes...but they're just bruises." Santino said and started unbuttoning his shirt. Vincent helped him get it off, sliding it down his arms.

Santino's body had bruises of various colors. Some were more darker purple than the others. Over his torso, ribs and on his back. Vincent gently traced his fingers over each one, pressing gentle kisses on Santino's shoulders as he winced couple of times.

"They don't hurt as much anymore, they're healing already." Santino said, feeling Vincent's lips on the back of his neck. He was studying Santino's bruises on his back.

"I'm going to kill them, miel. I'll do it myself." Vincent said, actually sounding serious about it. Santino chuckled breathlessly, "I'd love to see that."

"I know you would." Vincent purred, smirking when Santino turned his head inviting him for another kiss. Hugging him from behind, kissing him deeply again, Vincent hummed before pulling from the kiss.

"Santi...if you need anything, let me know. Really, just tell me whatever you need." He said after the kiss and Santino put on his shirt again. "Well...I'd like to spend more time with you. You're here now so...would you stay a little longer?" Santino felt like he needed to stay closer to him. He needed some comfort.

"I'd love to...however I can stay only for half an hour. I have another business talk...is that okay?" Vincent offered. "More than okay." Santino smiled.

That half an hour went by quickly. They drank some coffee, talked a bit, cuddled, kissed...and that's it.

Santino wished Vincent had more time for him. Especially now. But he understands.

"I'm sorry, miel. I promise I'll make it up for you." Vincent said, fixing his suit, looking himself in the mirror. "Be good and drink painkillers, chéri." He said as he kissed him one last time. "I will." Santino smiled and nodded.

And Santino was left alone, again. Oh well, he at least got to see and be with him today.

As the week went by, Vincent would visit him sometimes, talk with him, how he's doing, just like he came the first time. But each time he would be more flirty, more touchy.

Until he offered something.

"How about..." Vincent paused, smirking as he fixed his tie and looked at Santino. "Tonight we spend time together? I have some free time then...what do you say?"

Ah, so he wanted that.

"Sure. I'm looking forward." Santino said, feeling himself blushing. Vincent chuckled quietly and leaned to whisper to him. "I hope you'll be in better shape by then. I don't want you to get even more hurt." That made Santino almost shiver.

"Don't worry about that." Santino said, feeling confident about it. Vincent nodded, "Good. See you in couple of hours, chéri."

Santino couldn't wait. He's gonna be with him again. He's gonna spend another night with him. No matter how much he got hurt he's willing to do this for Vincent.

Vincent's looking out for him. He cares. He loves him. He came to visit him to see how he's doing.

Waiting like for Vincent like a lost little puppy. Waiting for his attention. Hopelessly following him, his orders, desperately begging for love.

Santino went outside to look at the roses and to get some fresh air. It was evening, Vincent should be here any minute. The red roses bloomed beautifully, the right not too bring and not too dark red color.

Soon after, Vincent showed up. Finally. He's here again. For him. With him.

While Santino wanted this to be more romantic, he had some red wine prepared in the bedroom for them, Vincent just wanted to get to the point.

It seemed a little bit odd to Santino but he didn't want to question it, Vincent's here for him now and that's all that matters.

While taking Vincent's clothes off, he noticed that there were no bruises or anything on his pale skin. But it's impossible for bruises to fade that quickly.

"You alright, chéri?" Vincent asked as he noticed Santino kinda looking wordlessly at his body. Santino quickly looked up at him, chuckling softly before answering. "Yes. Sorry, I zoned out." Santino said, giving him a soft smile.

He didn't want to question anything now. He didn't want to ruin the mood.

"It's okay. Relax, miel." Vincent purred, kissing him and pulling him down with him. He let Santino have control tonight.

It was one of the best moments they shared. Santino on top of him, fucking him. He was rather gentle at first because he wanted to be...and because when he strained with few harder thrusts, his legs hurt.

But Vincent didn't really care about that. He just kept praising him, gripping his hair, moaning his name. Santino loved it. Loved every minute of it.

It seemed like hours, and they both wished it didn't end, this feeling.

Vincent gasped, gripping onto Santino's back, onto one of his worse bruises which made Santino whimper and cry out a moan. But fuck, it added to the excitement of this.

Vincent came first, moaning Santino's name and gripping tightly onto his hair and back. It hurt. That bruise hurt and Santino gasped a moan, feeling a weird feeling of pain and pleasure.

It didn't took him long to finish. To finish inside him, coming with a strangled moan, panting into Vincent's neck.

"Good boy, Santi. You did so good for me."

Vincent praised him, gently stroking his back, yet probably unaware of the pain he caused him. Or he was aware since he caressed that part.

Santino caught his breath enough to pull out and flop next to him. Groaning quietly in pain as the bruise just got more irritated. "Aw, did I hurt you?" Vincent asked, more in a teasing way rather than caring. "No..." Santino breathed out, closing his eyes to regain himself.

Vincent chuckled, he's proud of himself. Just like always.

After some time, Santino resting his head on Vincent's shoulders. "You don't have any bruises..." He muttered. "Hm? Ah, I suppose I have better immune system than you, miel." Vincent said and caressed his cheek. Santino hummed in response. Too tired to question anything more.

But it was strange. Maybe Vincent does have a better immune system.

"I think I strained myself too much..." Santino said and whimpered as he stretched a little. "Aww, you just need rest, chéri." Vincent chuckled.

He does need rest after this. His whole body ached even more.

After few days, Santino recovered quickly from the bruises and his body didn't ache as much anymore.

Yet, Vincent wasn't visiting him that often. He only came by twice in this week. But he enjoyed those two times.

So to suprise him and show him his appreciation for him, Santino cut three of the red roses from his garden and went to visit him himself.

Ah, Vincent was on the phone with someone when he came to visit.

"Santi?" Vincent asked once he finished his phone call, looking a bit puzzled at him. "I um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything...I just..." Santino got a bit nervous of course, thinking maybe it's not the best time.

"These are for you. I really appreciate everything you've done for me for the past two weeks...thank you, Vincent." Santino said, blushing and showing Vincent the roses. Vincent blinked, looking from the roses to him and then just kinda chuckled and took them.

"Thank you, chéri. They're very pretty." He said and leaned to kiss him. "Ah, you didn't have to. I was just worried about you so I had to see how you're doing." Vincent smiled at him.

Santino huffed a nervous small laugh before answering, "I still feel like I need to show you how much you mean to me. And...these roses are from my garden...three red roses." He just knew he looked absolutely flustered and it's something Vincent loves.

"You're so cute like this. Ah, my little Santi." Vincent purred and caressed his face. The way Santino was looking at him with admiration and love...it's cute. But almost pathetic to Vincent.

"I'll put them in the vase on my table so I can look at them every day and think of you."

Santino was never this much happy before. And Vincent could see that, see that spark in his eyes. He has him now.

"I'm glad you like them. Roses have beautiful meanings. Every color has. And...red means love." Santino said, tugging onto Vincent's tie once Vincent put the roses in the vase.

"I know, miel. Red ones are my favorite." He leaned to kiss him. A passionate kiss, getting Santino on his other desk and kissing him some more.

Three red roses. Love.

Another day passed. Santino was obsessively thinking about Vincent.

Then another day. Santino obsessively thinking about him again. And again. And again. And a week passed. Only texting each other.

A rainy day arrived. Santino returned from his meeting.

Going to his bedroom he was met with a letter and one single blue rose.

The letter said:

"I'm sorry for not seeing you this week, chéri. I'm really busy. However I do think about you every single day and wish you're next to me. Please take this blue rose that I send for you as my apology for not seeing you. I know you love the blue color and it was difficult to find a blue rose but you know me, I always manage everything. Hope to see you soon. Love you, miel."

It was written in Vincent's handwriting.

A blue rose? Santino has never seen a blue rose before.

"It's very pretty." He said to himself, smiling as he held the rose. A nice almost like royal blue color. "I wonder what it means."

One single blue rose.

Something's not right here. One part of Santino felt that.

Blue rose.

Mystery, they don't exist in the nature, they're hard to create.

Vincent didn't help Santino when he was calling him for help. He did heard him.

He heard him calling out for him.

He ignored him.

Vincent was fine. He wasn't hurt.

He doesn't have any bruises on his body.