synopsis: you’ve been staring at cesare for so long; you hardly recognize someone else trying to catch your gaze. until he finally does.
warnings: mafia (yes crime is a warning), misogyny, one sided unrequited love, give a chance to someone new, lil bit of jealousy at the end, cesare is a manwhore, sprinkle of italian phrases (i’m trying i promise)
Growing up within the Torisi Villa was all you had ever known. Constant chores day in & out. Cook three meals a day. Help tend the horses. Maybe take a few minutes to ogle at Cesare Massaro.
The man you grew up beside dripped in confidence and violence. And you may have been unable to tear your gaze away from him but he always felt out of reach. You could look at him, sure; but could you talk to him? Would he talk to you? Were you allowed to chat?
Everything he did was never less than perfect in your eyes; at least you thought so. Until today.
There were always whispers of his trysts with the bar girls but this was the first you had seen it in action. Or, the sweet talk before it happened.
There he was, leaning against the wall with some girl. The same smirk on his face and wink in his eye that he sometimes gave you whenever he caught you staring from across the courtyard. You couldn’t even tell if she wanted to entertain him but you had seen enough.
Turning back the way you came, your shoulder had bumped into Enzo. His hands helped steady your shoulders before you had a chance to fall.
“Scusi, signore.”
“It is alright, signora. Have you seen Cesare? He’s supposed to help me with a delivery.”
“Ah, he seems a little busy at the moment.” You said as you pointed gestured behind you. In your attempt to flee, your brain came up with a great idea.
“What if I helped you instead?” You offered.
“Are you sure signora? We will be gone all day.” Enzo stressed to you.
“Yes. I’ve done all my chores anyway. And it’ll be good for me to get out.” You reasoned more for yourself than with Enzo.
“Alright, signora. Lets go, the car is waiting.” Enzo stated as he lead you to the front gate.
Enzo proved to be pleasant company as he drove through the roads of San Celeste. You talked about what it was like in the Torisi estate while he shared personal stories about the sulfur mines. Even though you empathized with him, he seemed to have detached himself from the mines now. A true gentleman with a good start.
The final stop had you & Enzo pulling into the driveway of Don Galante’s bar, an unexpected visit but not an unwelcome one.
Don Galante had always been a kind old man, despite his background. You beat him in a chess game once when you were the age of 14. All he had done then was congratulate you and offer to play again another time. (You were still convinced that he let you win).
“Signora! What a pleasant surprise!” Don Galante greeted gleefully.
“Don Galante, pleasure to see you again. I apologize that this isn’t a social visit.” You replied. Another voice you hadn’t heard of in a while resounded behind the Don.
“Ah! My principessa comes to see me again!” Leo dramatically sighed as he walked out of his grandfather’s bar. He had offered you his hand in helping to step out of the front seat of the car. You shook your head with laughter as you accepted his hand.
“Leo, I’m not a principessa.” The first genuine smile finally crept onto your face since this gloomy morning.
“But your beauty is beyond compare, cara. How could I ever think of you as anything but?” With your hand still in his, he lifted it for a gentle kiss on your knuckles. That same boyish smirk you saw as a child now playing on his cheeks. But it looks different now. Less awkward. More sure of himself.
Maybe your stomach fluttered a bit.
“Leo, we have wine to deliver.” You said hurriedly so as to get your world back in motion.
You, Enzo, and Leo stored the wine in the back storage room while the Don counted everything. Well, more like Leo argued with you for about 10 minutes not to do any heavy lifting since he can ‘do it for you’. You just loaded the crates into the bar anyway, completely out to spite him. After the last box was accounted for and put away, Leo tried to tempt you both into staying.
“I’m not sure if we can. We have at least one more delivery before we’re expected back at the estate.” You explained regretfully.
Leo quickly looked at his grandfather and whatever silent conversation they had passed as soon as it started.
“How about this. I will go with Enzo for the last delivery and you play a game with my grandson to pass the time? Eh? Seems fair enough to me.” You knew better than to challenge the Don on something like this, even when it was just a friendly suggestion.
You watched as Enzo gave an encouraging nod to you and drove off with the Don in the car, saying he’ll be back to pick you up later. Leo led you to an outside table where his grandfather’s chess set usually resides. Ever the gentleman, he pulled out the chair for you.
“I’m not sure how well my skills are now. I haven’t played in a while.” You relented.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you, principessa.” He stated as he set the board.
The afternoon was filled with laughter of old childhood stories and catching up on the interests you haven’t told each other in a while. It felt familiar, relaxing. Time stood still with him.
He felt like home.
That’s what you were trying to look for. Not the temptation that Cesare could provide or even the kindness Enzo had. Connecting with Leo felt like a bonding of your souls. You weren’t sure if he could feel it too. He probably didn’t.
Over the course of the first game, he had bested you. With moves you noticed that didn’t bruise your ego.
“How about a wager?” You leaned on the table.
“What kind, signora?” He leaned towards you with equal fervor.
“If I win, I get to have a bottle of that American Whisky.” You prodded.
“And if I win?” He probed lightly.
“Whatever you want, singore” You teased.
Leo took a breath before he responded.
“What I want is something you couldn’t fathom.” He said more to himself than to you.
“Name it after you win.”
“After, principessa?”
“If you win.”
Leo took one look at the reset board and moved his pawn into position.
“I do love a good wager, cara.”
The next half an hour you were on the edge of your seat. You were trying to understand his moves while playing your own. With two quick decisions he had you in checkmate. It had happened so fast that you gripped the table in disbelief.
“You cheated!” You angrily yelled; while still smiling.
“Merda, you wound me! I would never cheat on you.” He placed his hand over his heart as his smirk crept onto his face again. It was something in his eyes that made you believe his words. Did he mean in all aspects?
“Claim your prize, Leo.” You rolled your eyes back playfully while pretending to pout about losing.
“A night. With you” Well, that certainly pushed the air out of your lungs.
“Leo, that’s not funny. I’m not one of your prostitutes.” You tried to simmer your offense as your hands sat in your lap.
“I meant dinner, principessa.” He chuckled as he got up and walked towards you. “I wouldn’t mind what you were insinuating either. But I fear just one night with you won’t be enough.” He said the last sentence almost to himself.
He offered his hand again to help you out of the chair. With a finesse you hadn’t seen from him; both of your hands were brought up to his mouth as he laid kisses upon each knhckle.
“Think about it, principessa. A meal. Candlelight. American Whisky. Driving you home and kissing you goodnight. Maybe more if you invite me in.”
“Leo, that last part would only happen with my future husband.” You had said to get yourself out of your star struck gaze.
“That’s my dream, cara. I have to keep my future wife satisfied, don’t I? Let you have a taste before we wed. Rather, let me have a taste.” He let his hand travel behind you to pluck a flower from a nearby pot and tuck it behind your ear.
You heard the car pull up before you saw it, causing you to step back from him before giving your answer. Don Galante got out of the car as you put some distance between you & Leo; stepping around him to approach the still running vehicle.
Just as you had settled yourself into the seat, you grabbed Enzo’s shoulder to signal him not to drive yet. This could easily be the stupidest or smartest decision of your life. But you’ll never know if you never try.
“Leo!” You shouted over the engine. He turned to you, quickly masking what might have been hurt over his face.
“Tomorrow night. At 7. Don’t be late.” You relented.
A genuine smile split his face this time.
“For you, my principessa? Never.” He stated.
You sat back down on the seat and glanced at Enzo.
“Minchia, what?” You groaned. He just shook his head fondly before his comment.
“I didn’t say anything.” Enzo said before he drove back to the villa with a teasing smirk on his face.
You hadn’t even noticed your arrival home as the flower Leo gave you twiddled with in your hands. So enthralled that you let your body take you to your room just based on muscle memory alone, entranced by the flower. Almost giggling, despite your age.
But someone on the estate didn’t like that your gaze wasn’t on him anymore. Uh uh. He didn’t like it at all.
synopsis: you helped enzo & isabella get away. and maybe get your own happy ending in the process.
warnings: mafia (bc yes crime is a warning), misogyny, smut, emotional smut, dubious consent (cesare doesn’t ask but reader didn’t even try to stop him either), manipulation, gaslighting (from reader), major plot deviation, reader is a woman, i’m not italian but i tried, reader’s father is proud of them
Being an American in Italy was difficult. However, being a woman in the heavily involved ‘family business’ had its own set of challenges altogether.
Officially; you were here in San Celeste visiting some distant family friends and seeing the ruins around.
Unofficially; you and your father had business with Don Torisi.
You had developed a nice routine within the Torisi Estate over the past few months of your stay. Watch the sunrise while eating breakfast, spend some time with Isabella during the day that included either talking in the garden or shopping in the market, and unfortunately running into Cesare & Enzo while venturing around the villa. Enzo wasn’t a bad person, distant and polite but good company all around.
Cesare was found to be an annoying little problem. He constantly put on his agitating charm whenever you were around; either in the company of others or not. No matter what you snapped back at him with, he’d always brush it off with a pickup line and continue to aggravate you some more. Sometimes stating that he’d finally met his wife.
Your father even became a nuisance about it. He had always been proud of you, no matter what you did but he sometimes was a bit too much. He would constantly tease you if you took a romantic interest in someone but always backed off when you finally had enough. He always wanted you to be happy but being happy with Cesare felt more like an expectation of joining the families rather than developing a relationship. Hence, it became almost the sole reason for your push back with him.
One of the many things you had also included in your routine was going to confession. Isabella convinced you to go with her almost every Sunday until it suddenly became a habit of your own.
Something felt odd about today as you entered the church. You waited diligently in prayer for Father Cichone until you heard the church doors slam open and close just as fast. Your instincts told you to hide as you scrambled underneath the pew.
A man had struggled to breathe as Father Cichone finally came out of his office and ran to him. You stayed quiet as they left again. A few minutes had passed while you tried to quietly slip out the back door; until a gunshot just outside the doors caused you to freeze for just a second. With the doors opening for a second time, you rushed towards the closest thing; the confessional booth, and locked yourself inside. Two voices were arguing in tandem with one another. One scared out of their mind and another as raspy as steel.
“P-please, I am a servant of God. I cannot tell you“ There’s Father Cichone.
“And now you are a servant of Don Torisi. Now tell me what she confessed to.” Tino.
The same shitbag who watched you like a hawk incase your American upbringing ever led Isabella a toe out of line. Ironically, it wasn’t even your influence that helped Isabella onto her massive secret. But you had kept quiet about it all, as daughters of the Dons would always be able to understand each other unlike anyone else.
Father Cichone didn’t have the same loyalty to confessional as you had to Isabella. That man squealed as he told Tino everything. Enzo, the train, the boat, the baby; all of it.
The more Tino tortured out of him, the more your resolve hardened in to helping your friends experience the love they deserve. You were a hopeful romantic after all.
When Tino finally left and Father Cichone quieted down, you slipped out the confessional and exited the church through the back hallway.
You had to finally talk to your father.
The day finally came for their journey but you had to stop them before they left. You hopped into a car and drove straight to Valetntina’s house. Slowing to a stop, Enzo was still standing in the doorway when you pushed him inside and shut the door.
“You can’t go.”
“Minchia! You can’t stop us.” Enzo exclaimed as harshly as he could while not waking the rest of Valentina’s family.
“No Enzo, I mean neither of you can take the train.” You ranted as you peaked through the curtain of the front window; hoping no one had followed you here.
“W-what do you mean?” Isabella asked, now reaching towards Enzo’s embrace.
“A few of your father’s men are waiting for you at the station.” You explained carefully.
“No, we had been so careful. How did my father find out?” Isabella’s resolve was strong and you admired her for it.
“Father Cichone. Talking to Tino made him squeal like a banshee. I heard it myself. I’m so sorry. But please, you both need to leave for the sake of your baby.” You steeled yourself with a serious expression.
“Listen to me carefully, take Enzo’s car and go to the port. My father is waiting for you both with fake boarding passes and new clothes, American. Torisi’s men won’t recognize you in them. I’ll drive to the train and send them on a goose chase for a few days. It’ll buy you some time.” You explained carefully.
“What if they come after us?“ Isabella worried.
“If they do, I will never let them hurt you.” Enzo consoled as he held her.
“My father already called in a few favors. Let’s just say that both of your bodies will be found to have been in terrible, separate accidents by the end of the week. Enzo by gunshot wounds, Isabella in a fire from a candle shop.” You explained in a rational tone.
Both of them stared at you speechless, unaware of what to say. Isabella stepped forward and engulfed you in a hug.
“I don’t know what I can ever do to thank you.” Isabella cried into your shoulder.
“You get to America. You live. My father suggests settling your family far away from the East Coast, but don’t tell him where you’re going. Look for places with more mountains and less beaches. Now go, you don’t have much time.” You squeezed her in one final goodbye before letting go.
With tears in your eyes, you could only hope they make it to your father without interruption.
Waiting a few minutes, you got yourself ready to drive to the train station. Putting on a dress almost identical to one of Isabella’s and intentionally covering your hair, you drove just in time to make it to the train.
You grabbed your half packed suitcase and made yourself look restless. An irritating voice let you know it was time to put on a show.
“What is the great principessa americana doing here?” Tino. Fuck this guy.
“T-tino? What are you doing here? N-no. You can’t stop me. Where’s Enzo? He told me to meet him here. Tell me, where is he?” You exclaimed with an edge of nervousness.
Tino, as well as the lackey to his right were both utterly confused. He was about to cut in until a familiar voice chimed in from behind you.
“Why are you looking for Enzo?” Cesare. A chill swept down your spine as you realize how much more convincing this needed to be. Why is he angry?
“I heard from someone that Don Torisi’s daughter is spoiled from that dirty caruso. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, right signorina?” Tino threatened lightly.
“N-no. Isabella isn’t pregnant with Enzo’s baby.” A breath for dramatic effect. “I am.”
Silence. From all of the men. Until you started to rant in ‘panic’ as ‘a few tears started to fall’.
“Enzo and I started to see each other weeks ago. I asked Isabella for advice and she said she’d ask someone else. Enzo told me that he loves me, wants to marry me, h-he said he wanted to ask for my father’s permission, to run away to America together. H-he…….oh Lord……please no. He’s not going to show is he?” You choked back sobs like you couldn’t go on.
“P-please. Please Tino, don’t tell my father. It was a mistake—“ A rough hand grabbed your bicep from behind as he dragged you to their cars.
“Get in the car.” Those were Cesare’s only words. Spoken with such finality that it left no room for argument. His touch burned through the sleeve of your dress as he pulled you along.
Begrudgingly, you slid into his car to make the trek back to the Torisi villa. Cesare was oddly quiet during the ride which was unlike him. It almost made everything worse. Knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel, jaw set so tight that he might be grinding his teeth. But you couldn’t ask him what was wrong with him or your act might shatter.
After stopping the car abruptly by the entrance to the house, Cesare didn’t even look back at the others as he stated “She will see the doctor in the morning.”
As he pulled you roughly up the stairs, your questions fell on deaf ears as he almost threw you into the guest bedroom that you had been occupying for the past few months.
“Ceasre! Say something!” You almost yelled in desperation.
His back was turned to you as he shut and locked your door. Shoulders heaving as he turned to you in an almost murderous gaze.
“Cesare? Cesare!” Three strides was all it took for him to descend his mouth on yours. The way he kissed was possessive, controlling, borderline desperate as he worked your mouth open. Pulling your tongue out of your mouth to caress it with his. You were equally stunned and transfixed on this new sensation, moaning confusedly into his mouth.
“Why?” He growled into your mouth while fiddling with the lacing of your dress. Pulling open the back with practiced ease.
“W-why wh-at..” Your words were cut off again as he almost entirely ripped your dress off your shoulders and hungrily descended upon your neck like a vampire starved.
“Minchia, why do you love him? Is he better than me? Richer than me?” He growled each sentence into your skin, letting his teeth nip your flesh raw. You could barely breathe from how close he had entrapped you into his arms. “He isn’t.” he growled as he answered his own questions.
The top of your dress finally rolled down to display your bare chest to him while his eyes greedily took in the sight. One hand played with your left nipple while his mouth enclosed around the stiff peak on your right. He started to suck so hard that it elicited an unexpected high pitched moan from you.
“C-cesare! Tha—ahh!” He smirked against your bosom as he lifted his eyes to see your head thrown back in surprised delight. While your head was reeling from his actions, he pulled off of you and stripped the rest of your dress down to the floor. If either of you heard the ripping of fabric, neither of you cared.
Cesare didn’t take long when he quickly disposed of his shirt and pants. Before you even realized he was apart from you, his hands had bent your body to lay back on your bed. Legs involuntarily slotting onto his hips as he kissed you into another possessive daze again. He didn’t give you a warning when he pushed in but he did help you take every inch of him.
Inch by agonizing inch, he slide into your warm, wet pussy while rubbing lazy circles onto your clit. The stretch was so delicious it had you throwing your head back in an almost silent moan.
“Tesoro,” he growled in your ear, “why have his child when you can have mine?” That question alone made you clench.
“Minchia!” He hissed, trying to keep your pelvis’s attached to each other. He ground into you a few times as he tried to help you adjust, using a finger or two to rub your clit in more defined movements.
“Get rid of his, have mine. Merda, I’ll call the Father right now and marry us while I have you like this.” He hissed as you tightened again. “You like that? Make you my wife, cara? I am the only one who can handle you. I will inherit everything. The villa. The family. The vineyard. All of it.” He panted while fixing a few shallow thrusts.
“All you have to do is love me. Love me. We will fill this place with every child that we make.” He said in a half plea half demand.
How is he so good at fucking you like this?
Wait.
“And have my kids run around with your little bastards from those girls in town?” You couldn’t help the snark that clawed its way through your throat. Even at a time like this.
In response, his hands lifted himself off you just enough that his intense gaze was on yours and your foreheads were pressed together as he picked up the pace. Almost punching out a few moans from you.
“You think I will let any of those women have my children? No. I haven’t visited since we met.” He sneered as a dangerous glint in his gaze began to form.
“Is that why you let him touch you, huh? You thought I was fucking other girls? Minchia, I should have taken you the first day we met.”
He started to pound into you now, deep strokes that didn’t keep you waiting to be filled by his cock again. Gaze not leaving yours for a second. The rhythmic sound of wet skin sounded throughout the space as if he had to prove a point.
Your realization crashed into you in waves. He was trying to prove a point. To you.
All those so called jokes about marrying you? He meant it. Every. Single. One. Not a marriage for the sake of an alliance, not out of expectation, but out of choice.
His attitude at the train station? You almost slipped through his fingers. With someone he considered a brother.
He would never let you go. And you didn’t want him to. You had been so stupid. Even now, his words caused you to feel lighter like they always did. Why didn’t you believe him? Because everyone around you said he was never serious. Even his own uncle admitted that.
He was right there, right in front of you. Incredibly rough around the edges but a blade that needed to be sharpened and used precisely. Your blade in this cutthroat family.
Tears collected in your lash line as you tried to hold on to your sanity. The heightened pleasure mixed with your emotional revelation almost became too much to bear. Your nails scraping his back only added to his pleasure as he groaned through his teeth.
Cesare leaned his body back as he took in your glistening form, damp with sweat. He said nothing as his fingertips wiped away the tears from the corners of your eyes. He didn’t need to.
Cesare finally lifted your hips from the bed with his hands and sat back on his legs. He started to bounce you as fast as he could on his cock, causing your back to arch at the perfect angle. His cock had finally reached the most pleasurable spot within you that he targeted with every thrust.
“Merda, cum for me. Cazzo, sei fatto per me.” (Fuck, you were made for me) Cesare stated furiously as his eyes kept flicking between your conjoined bodies, the rhythmic jiggle of your tits, or your blissed out expression. He couldn’t decide what he loved better.
Your orgasm shot through you like a crack of lightning, shocking you in the aftermath at how quickly it came. Nails scratching down his forearms as he kept keeping a brutal pace. Your legs crossed behind Cesare’s back, not letting him leave you.
Cesare had given a few more thrusts as he flooded you with his own release. Giving a few more lazy rubs on your clit to keep your pussy clenching on his cock.
Well, you weren’t pregnant before but you definitely would be now.
He leaned back down to give your lips a few chaste kisses, caressing the sides of your body with his hands while not once pulling out of you yet. You felt the desperation in every kiss he gave you. Lightly, you pushed him back to breathe and finally utter the words you’ve been wanting to say since this started.
“I’m so sorry.” You whispered to him, words hanging in the air as you both started to breathe normally again. There was more you wanted to say but you just couldn’t. I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I made you believe that I ever loved Enzo, even for a second. I’m sorry that I had to lie to you. I’m sorry that I can probably never tell you the truth.
“You’re mine now, tesoro. I will never let anyone hurt you again.” He gently kissed you again and again, traveling from your lips across your chin and down your neck as you both just laid in bed together.
I didn't know people had such an issue with the ending of Mafia The Old Country. My thesis / theory is because people don't value Isabella- which I mean understandable. It's the most cliche setup you can have, oh the Don's daughter, a forbidden romance blah blah blah blah blah. The common sense of the player kicks in being like Oh I shouldn't talk to her. But the story is about two people who are naive one more so than the other. And their lack of freedom and agency within the narrative of the story.
Enzo has not agency in his story, and the little bit he gets at the end is a lie and ripped away by people who never trusted him im the first place.
It's so easy to just look at Isabella as oh the woman but she's just like Enzo. No one treats her like an adult and no one cares about what she wants. She lacks freedom just like enzo. So her killing Tino is her way of getting her own freedom by killing. Just like Enzo- its sad and heart breaking. And the player should care about her, and what happens to the house. Because everyone cared about the house the vineyard, the Don and all his bullshit. Because those are the main focus.
My only issue is that I’m a romantic and I wanted them both to get away so bad but at the same time I knew it was gonna be realistic too. The end punches through everything like a tragic victory.
It’s crazy how some people can understand the manipulation that Enzo is under from the Don and the family yet don’t clock the same pressure that Isabella is equally under. Like you said they have no agency and are both treated as property where neither of their opinions/feelings matter. Enzo like a mindless soldier and Isabella like a prized breeding stallion.
Enzo is under the Don’s control while Isabella is under Tino’s watchful (& hateful) eye.
At the end when Enzo tries to plead/reason with everyone that he loves her, they all say stuff like “you should never have touched her” like she’s a prize meant for one person only. She’s considered spoiled goods now. The family ignores the fact that she is a consenting adult, and voicing more anger towards Enzo that she’s pregnant than the fact that she’s in love with someone they never actually considered family.
On Isabella’s side, they call her dirty and tell her that she’s getting rid of the “last piece of the caruso” (I can’t remember the exact line but it was something like that). Tino and the other men are actively ignoring the volcano (the actual danger) and chasing/forcing Isabella to the doctor because their reputation and respect matters more than their lives. That’s how deeply they care about it.
I think the real kicker is the difference in relationship of Cesare between both their stories. He valued them both as family in different ways.
Enzo killed his manipulator, the Don but didn’t believe Cesare would kill him. Cesare & Enzo were brothers. Cesare thought Enzo was going to be his second when he took over the family. Cesare killed him because Enzo betrayed the family that he chose to be a part of. (Even when Enzo was misguided in his choice but Cesare doesn’t understand that).
Isabella killed her manipulator and micromanager Tino, but Cesare lets her go. They were cousins, family by blood, she didn’t choose this life and the inner ‘family’ doesn’t include women and children anyway. That’s why I think he gave her the tickets.
Even if just Isabella & the baby got away; part of Enzo got away too because of the letter she kept. And no matter who writes it, it’s probably the best ending the two of them will ever get.
anybody else watch those little phone sized dramas to pass the time and somehow the heroine is just really passive about everything, never explaining herself at all, never having a plan to actively go against the horrible plot put on her by some sort of jealous rival, and it all works out for her anyways??
like i get the message, be kind to others or whatever but you don’t say a single thing when someone accuses you of something? not a ‘i didn’t trip them into the pond, check the hallway cameras, i wasn’t even near them’
or no singular ‘i am the heir to this fortune, check my drivers license against the fake girl. you’ll see who’s right’ like gurl?!?!?!
omggg I absolutely love your mafia!TF141 and your Businessmen drabble about reader saying she went blind LOL
Will you write more of it in the future? Both of those are like in my top favorite tropes
HI HONEY!!!
yes, i am working on writing more business men 141 in the future. i just had a lot of work going on so having a break now from it is definitely helping 😂
the first time that a new ambassador of a foreign kingdom comes to make contact, knight johnny mactavish is eager to seduce welcome them.
he presented you with a flower arrangement and you seemed to be in genuine awe, as well as shock. your father was happily rambling half in your language and half in english about how you don’t get any attention back home. or any suitors at all. a perk for him to easily get you into bed.
johnny continued to be your guide and guard in the castle during your stay. you had many meetings and trade disputes to deal with but he would sweet talk you when you weren’t discussing the value of goods. your shy smiles and sweet giggles caused his heart to race. it’s just the excitement of getting to bed you. that’s all.
it was a few weeks later while drinking with his king, john price, dropped a bomb on him.
“so how’s your engagement going?”
“what joke are you on about?”
king john shook his head with a smirk as he chuckled.
“you never read the paper notes i sent you about their culture, did you?”
“aye, twas longer than 12 pages. ya know im not a reader like gaz.”
“you didn’t get to the part where giving someone a bouquet was a marriage proposal?”
that had his cheeks rosy and his heart beat faster again. flashes of you and him at the altar. a small cottage on the beachside. just the alcohol. he told himself.
“now price, you know as well as i that hell would freeze over before i ever settled down. especially not with that one. the most boring ambassador i’ve ever had the displeasure of meetin. no, not for me”
but price’s smile had dropped, and he wasn’t looking at johnny anymore. he turned around to see you in the doorway, teary eyed with a few pages in your hands.
“pardon me, your majesty, i came to deliver the finished report. i-i’ll leave it here. good night.”
johnny was so stunned he hadn’t even gotten up. just froze with his drink in his hand, still staring at the door you had opened that was now closed.
knight john mactavish was a right mess. well, more than usual it seemed.
his chest grew tighter after you requested a new guard to guide and protect you during your stay. the bile that bit the back of his throat only subsided when he realized gaz became his replacement. better than anyone else; he reasoned inwardly.
johnny tried to ignore it. ignore you. your laughter that echoed in his dreams, the same determined furrow in your brow while you established trade, all of it. even down to the lasting smell of ink and parchment upon your fingertips.
fuck did he crave you more than anything. but it wasn’t your body he craved anymore. he yearned for your mind. wanting to kneel at your feet and worship your soul. to beg for forgiveness even when he knew he’d never deserve it in his lifetime.
every rejection of your attention stung more than the last. he tried to smile at you in the halls multiple times; but all you did was glance over him, questioning if you even saw him at all.
you even ignored his comments during mealtimes, refusing to even hear out his stories or meet his eye.
at night, his body may have been warm but his heart was cold to the touch. no amount of his own comfort could cause his heart to defrost. he had tossed and turned all night, stuck in trying to find out what to do. you would only be here a few more weeks, then you’d be gone. back to your own kingdom. would you even say goodbye to him? at this rate, johnny doubted it.
he’s had enough of his own desperation.
johnny now had a plan, a skillful one that would take time but his patience started to grow when he was filled with one reason: to see you smile again.
his next few days were filled with dirt, weeds, and sun-blistering afternoons. like clockwork, he would tend to his creation. ending each day with dirt stained fingernails and sweat soaked shirts, he prided himself on a bath just before dinner. if only to make sure no one would question what he’d been doing. until it was finally ready, just in time before your last night here.
he hurriedly knocked on your door that night, just softly enough to wake you. when the door creaked open, you stood there with your hands rubbing away the sleep from your eyes and a nightgown that hugged you perfectly. almost the exact same gown he’d dreamed about you wearing.
“sir macatavish? what are you doing this late?” the irritation in your voice was clear but johnny had to ignore it.
“i need to show you something.” his voice leaking with desperation but you only grunted, annoyed at his words.
“if it’s what half of the court has already seen, i shall pass.” your hand landed back on the door, ready to close it.
“please, it’s not what you think.” his hand instinctively raised to the door to stop you from closing it.
“sir, i am tired. i need rest before i make my journey home tomorrow.” johnny tried to use his words first but there was a reason he was a man of action.
“then i’ll carry you.” with speed and surprise on his side; he hauled you over his shoulder. biceps trapping your legs to his chest, unable to give you a chance to kick. you gasped as soon as your world had flipped on you.
“put me down this instant, mactavish! or i shall call for sir garrick!”
“oh don’t worry, gaz already knows about this. i told him.”
you struggled in vain for however long it took for him to carry you somewhere. resting in between because of the strain, and even relenting to see where this would go.
he finally stopped once you both reached outside, past the king’s maze and even a little further towards the forest line. he settled you slowly down onto your feet, in which you surprisingly felt stone. the blood rushing back to your head caused you to wobble a bit and almost topple over but johnny was smart to keep his arms around you.
“ye ready?” before you could ask what he meant, he used his hands on your shoulders to turn you around.
a garden. filled with your several favorite flowers. the kind that took weeks to grow. it wasn’t a professional garden by any sort but it was filled with plants that complemented each other. both in color and size. a wonder of stone steps along the path in between the two sections. it brought tears to your eyes and an unheard gasp to your parting lips.
a flower bouquet was an engagement gift, simply meant for courting.
but a garden was a promise; a wedding vow to grow life and love with the person you showed it to.
you trembled as you turned to face johnny again but he wasn’t there; it wasn’t until you felt your skirt shifting did you realize he was kneeling before you.
johnny had lifted your skirt up in his hands to kiss the fabric, only because he didn’t feel worthy to hold your hand.
“i’m not the smartest man in the world. nor the brightest. and i didn’t engage with you under the purest of intentions. for that, i’m sorry.”
he still didn’t raise his head.
“i know yer leavin on the morrow but,” he paused taking a breath, “i need to say this.”
“i fell in love with ye. before i even knew what it was. i know ye have no right to forgive me, not that i ever deserve it. but i will use the rest of my life to earn your forgiveness. even if…..if….y-you marry…another…i’ll never stop.”
you took a calming, shaky breath and start your own.
“i can’t…” johnny’s grip on your skirt grew a little tighter, not wanting to let go of you yet.
“i can’t ever…marry anyone else now.”
johnny’s eyes bolted towards your face. you bit your bottom lip to keep from sobbing outright. his disbelief and hope was as plain as day, just like the glistening tear stains on his cheeks.
“i-i….you what?” he stammered.
johnny stood straight up, letting go of your skirt to cradle your face in his hands. your hands falling to his wrist to keep them there.
“i haven’t forgiven you yet but…..i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want to.”
“i will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. i promise”
“i know you will.”
his promise was sealed in your slow kiss that night.
.
.
knight john mactavish might have been a mess; but more importantly, he was yours.
the first time that a new ambassador of a foreign kingdom comes to make contact, knight johnny mactavish is eager to seduce welcome them.
he presented you with a flower arrangement and you seemed to be in genuine awe, as well as shock. your father was happily rambling half in your language and half in english about how you don’t get any attention back home. or any suitors at all. a perk for him to easily get you into bed.
johnny continued to be your guide and guard in the castle during your stay. you had many meetings and trade disputes to deal with but he would sweet talk you when you weren’t discussing the value of goods. your shy smiles and sweet giggles caused his heart to race. it’s just the excitement of getting to bed you. that’s all.
it was a few weeks later while drinking with his king, john price, dropped a bomb on him.
“so how’s your engagement going?”
“what joke are you on about?”
king john shook his head with a smirk as he chuckled.
“you never read the paper notes i sent you about their culture, did you?”
“aye, twas longer than 12 pages. ya know im not a reader like gaz.”
“you didn’t get to the part where giving someone a bouquet was a marriage proposal?”
that had his cheeks rosy and his heart beat faster again. flashes of you and him at the altar. a small cottage on the beachside. just the alcohol. he told himself.
“now price, you know as well as i that hell would freeze over before i ever settled down. especially not with that one. the most boring ambassador i’ve ever had the displeasure of meetin. no, not for me”
but price’s smile had dropped, and he wasn’t looking at johnny anymore. he turned around to see you in the doorway, teary eyed with a few pages in your hands.
“pardon me, your majesty, i came to deliver the finished report. i-i’ll leave it here. good night.”
johnny was so stunned he hadn’t even gotten up. just froze with his drink in his hand, still staring at the door you had opened that was now closed.
poly!141 x reader except they're all vampires and you're their personal little blood bag, so every time it's that time of the month, you'll randomly wake up at 3 am with the four of them fighting each other at a chance to lick at your cunt because they simultaneously "had a craving"
for my big boob readers i want you to know that if something accidentally falls down your shirt; johnny mctavish is the one to help you clean it up. not with his hands no that man dives in mouth first. no matter where you are or who’s around.
at home? pushes your boobies apart and licks it up
at the bar? grabs you by the collar
at a fancy restaurant? you both got kicked out because he kneeled right in front of you in the middle of the entree
Hi I just wanted to say how much I adore your American informant stuff! It’s making me giggle and the dynamic between them and the 141 (and nik lol) is just so fun! Will you be continuing it? No pressure, I was just curious ☺️
Hi honey!! So sorry, my inbox ate your ask and i didn’t see it until today 😑
and YES i am continuing american informant!! i apologize, work got me busy these past few weeks but i got some ideas in the works, trying to nail them down more thoroughly before i publish them.
jacobvanloon
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