johnwickb1tsch

[johnwickb1tsch]

thinking about older coworker/manager!character x fresh out of college/life hasn’t reality checked you yet!reader.

he’s the head of the department you’re working for, and it’s not just the power dynamic that makes him so intimidating. you’re used to boys your age, but every time you interact with him, you’re reminded of the fact that he’s a man. he towers over you, and you can’t help but secretly admire the flex of his biceps and watch the prominent veins of his forearms as he rolls up the sleeves of his button down to help you carry a large box of files. you’re down bad for him, and he can sense your little crush from a mile away. he tries to deter you; claims he’s too old for you, even calls you kid, but just the fact that he’s flustered over the age gap makes you want him, makes you like him, even more. to you, he’s a good guy. to himself, he’s a terrible excuse of a man.

his behavior is inexcusable. how dare he try to act as a role model at work for you, leaning behind you as you sit down at your office chair and look up at him with that adorable confused expression as you seek his help with using the company software, when he’s really struggling to hide his hard-on. you’re just so dependent on him, always searching for his guidance. at night, the only stress relief he gets from work is heading to his room and thinking of how you always try to remain close to his side at work. he jacks off to the mere thought of you.

[johnwickb1tsch]

ok, i put 1000 words on the real Bittersweet, I'm not a total piece of shit 🙃😂

[johnwickb1tsch]

Precious

An extension of THIS ask

More of Yandere John Wick and his dollification-kink

Warning: Stalking, manipulation, hints of infantilization, implied restraining, NSFW, John is soft but dark, stalking, tracking,dollification(obviously), hint of corruption kink

Credit to the GIF owner.

Unedited Piece.

I kind of lost myself with this one. Note that the reader does not understand Russian in this one. So if any of my readers do, I apologise.

Precious. That is what you are to John. He sees you as precious and fragile. Especially if you are a civilian working a regular job. That is the most unfortunate of circumstances for you. Canon John is protective as such. Imagine yandere John—he is paranoid that something or someone is going to hurt you. There is a tracker somewhere in your car, and you are never going to find out. And your phone? He has the right connections—people who have your phone bugged for him.

And most probably, all this happens even before he is ‘officially’ your boyfriend. In his eyes, the proposal is simply a formality, just so that you don’t freak out. 

Once in a relationship, it all turns worse. You don't want to move in with him so soon? It has been a month! His patience is now running thin. This might even be the cause of your first major disagreement or serious fight. If you choose to ignore him after that, even for a day, you are only making it worse for you. Suddenly, your home is broken in, thrashed or suddenly, you are locked out of your own home. The lock just wouldn’t open and it’s late at night. But either way, you don’t need to fear, John is just a call away. Or just happens to have been on his way to your place, to apologise, of course.

Sadly, this is just the beginning of manipulation and gaslighting.

Once he has you under his roof, there is no going back. Isn’t it strange? Some of your bathing and beauty products are already lined up in his bathroom cabinet.

 “I bought them just in case you decided to stay for weekends. I was thinking of inviting you over.”

It is reasonable but you can see through it. Anyone can—he is trying to ease you into living with him. It’s harmless in your eyes, only if you knew how far he has gone and is willing to go.

John loves it when you put on pretty dresses—your closet is slowly filled with more and more of them. Either it is a dress he has delivered to you, or left on your bed, or he simply appears with a random dress in a bag. 

“Thought it would look lovely on you.” 

It is incredible how he gets the measurement right, even before you both get intimate. It’s like his hands have a mind of their own, mapping your form even through simple touches.

The truth is, you are all in his mind, every touch, every trace is imprinted in John’s mind. It takes him incredible self-control to not have his hands all over you. His throat dries up when he gets to touch you, even if it seems innocent, a squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand

Expect random trips to a boutique of his choice, he makes you try on as many dresses as you want, and he wants and every time you give him a twirl, he has to remind himself that you both are in public. If he likes a dress a little too much, he will invite you to his lap.

“Aren’t you a pretty doll?” His eyes have the darkness that unsettles you, just for a moment, before you shake it off

John is a gentleman, a true gentleman. A catch really—that is what you firmly believe. At least until you move in with him and the mask begins to fall. 

Suddenly, you realise that you barely have time for yourself, your closet is filled with the dresses he likes the most and you never go out with your friends as often. In fact, it has been a while since you have gone out. You are always rushing home after work because John prefers that you do not stay out till late. When was the last time you had a night out with your friends?

But by the time you come to realise all this, it is too late, you are so deep in his lair, entangled in his web. It is not easy to keep a sane mind with the amount of times his head is buried between your legs, or his fingers or both. And let’s not talk about what a silly mess his manhood thrusting in and out of your slick folds makes you. 

Like Donaka, John too has a corruption kink. You do not know how cruel the world is, you are a precious angel in this hell on earth. He wants to protect you, he will protect you and take care of you, regardless of what you want but he also gets off at your surprised expression when he bends you to a new position while your pleasure-drunk eyes look up at him. Only he will get to see that, of course. 

What would you do without him? You are going to work? He is dropping you, soon, you will see that you do not need to work at all. He is your protector and provider. You genuinely enjoy it? Well, you can continue what you do as a hobby, what is the need to take the pains of going to work every day?

John does not understand that. As I mentioned before, he sees you as something precious and fragile, a sweet doll that belongs to a safe, cosy, soft dollhouse. He makes sure that you have enough sleep, and enough nutrients and that you do not engage in any ‘dangerous’ activity. You do not need to cook, he will happily do that. If you insist on helping, he will let you mix things up, and even stir maybe, but you are staying away from hot oils and knives.

John is also the type who loves to kiss you on the cheeks for some reason, his lips softly touching your skin has a familiar warmth enveloping his heart. Even during intimate moments, he kisses you all over, like his lips tracing your body.

It is perhaps during the passionate, intimate moments that you get to see a glimpse of carefully concealed darkness. The sweet nothings make you blush. he says things in Russian that you have no idea of-

“You are meant to be fucked stupid and sleep soft and cosy in this bedroom, aren’t you? Why even bother stepping out? I have everything here for you.”

“Aren’t you pretty like this? My precious doll, all dressed up for me.”

“You were mine since the day I laid eyes on you.”

“Should keep you here all the time, huh? It’s too dangerous outside.”

“You need me, don’t you?”

“You are mine, aren���t you? All you need is me.”

“I could have just taken you, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything…”

If you do manage to put the dots and confront him someday, he will try to manipulate you and if that doesn’t work and you still want to leave…Good luck. Besides, he will have a good laugh watching you trying to fight him. Might even be condescending and mean about it.

[johnwickb1tsch]

[johnwickb1tsch]

Keanuverse characters’ parenthood 3/4

Request

John Constantine ✦ Jack Traven ✦ Ted Logan

John Wick

Lines of cars crawled ahead, their white headlights cutting through the darkness while crimson brake lights flickered in John’s brown eyes. His brows furrowed in tense focus, and the steady, muted tap of his fingers against the steering wheel was the only sign of the disquiet simmering within.

“Jooohn,” your strained voice broke through the tense silence from the backseat.

John’s heart jolted as he glanced into the rearview mirror. You were leaning back, your face contorted in pain, both hands clutching your swollen belly.

“Sweetheart, we’re stuck in traffic.”  His shoulders tensed, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Just focus on breathing, okay? In through your nose and out through-” 

“I’m fucking breathing, John!” you snapped with sharp agony. 

John hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes fixed on the unmoving cars ahead, stubbornly refusing to budge. The frustration bubbling beneath the surface was barely contained as your groans and strained moans filled the car. Then, abruptly, your voice fell silent.

His head whipped around. “Sweetheart?” 

“John…” you gasped, clutching your stomach tighter. His heart skipped a beat. “I think my water just broke.” 

Before he could even begin to process, a guttural cry tore from your throat.

“John, hurry!” you shouted, fear and pain thick in your tone. “Please!”

His jaw tightened, his gaze shifting side to side as he weighed one possibility after another, analyzing the situation and calculating the risks of every move.

“It’s too dangerous,” he muttered. “I can’t…”

“John Wick,”  you growled through gritted teeth, “either you turn on your assassin mode right now, or swear to God, I’ll be the one who killed Baba Yaga!”

His eyes flicked from you to the sea of brake lights ahead, a sharp curse slipping under his breath as he hesitated. But when your heart-wrenching scream echoed once more, it shattered his last doubts. Stealing a quick, worried glance your way, he barked, “Fasten your seatbelt.” 

Your trembling hands fumbled with the strap, finally clicking it into place as another wave of pain wracked your body.

The moment the sound registered, John yanked the wheel hard, swerving sharply into the oncoming lane. The car surged forward, slicing through opposing traffic like a missile. Horns blared in furious bursts, blending with the engine’s roar, the shriek of skidding tires, and your strained groans.

“John!” you screamed, clawing at the armrest.

“Hold on!” he shouted, his eyes rapidly darting between blinding headlights and fleeting gaps in traffic, steering precisely between them. A truck thundered past, missing by inches with a deafening blast of its horn, clipping a car’s side mirror with a loud crack. John didn’t even flinch. 

“Almost there!” John growled, your screams driving his grip tighter on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Spotting the hospital ahead, he sped up and swung into the emergency entrance, bringing the car to a screeching halt, leaving scorched tire marks on the pavement.

John leapt out without cutting the engine and sprinted toward the doors, shouting for help. Moments later, nurses rushed out with a gurney, racing toward the car.

“Careful!” John snapped, his sharp gaze locking onto every movement as they reached for you. His breath hitched when he saw the strain on your face, the sweat on your forehead, your trembling hands clutching your belly. As they guided you onto the gurney, your hand shot out, latching onto his with a grip like a vice.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. 

“Sir, you need to stay here,” a nurse instructed as they wheeled you through the doors.

John hesitated, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, before stepping back. He stood frozen, his gaze locked on you until the doors to the maternity ward swung shut. 

John sank into a hard plastic chair, his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped tightly. Though his expression remained stoic, a storm of fear churned within him, refusing to be quelled. His hand still tingled from your grip and cries of pain echoing in his ears.

He glanced at his watch. Three hours. It had been three agonizing hours since they had wheeled you away.

When the nurse approached, her soft voice pierced through his spiraling thoughts. “Mr. Wick?”

For the first time in hours, he sat upright. “Yeah?”

“Congratulations.” She smiled warmly. “You have a healthy baby. The mother is safe.”

John leaned back, exhaling a long, shaky breath. The tension slowly unraveled in his chest, and he hadn’t realized how stiffly he’d been sitting until now.

“Can I…” His voice faltered. “Can I see them?”

The nurse nodded. “For a little while.”

John entered the room quietly, his sharp gaze softening as he took in the sight of you. You were propped up on the bed, your hair damp with sweat and exhaustion etched across your face, but you were smiling. In your arms, swaddled in a soft white blanket, was a tiny miracle.

He approached slowly, his footsteps unusually hesitant. You looked up at him, your smile widening, and he couldn’t help but return it.

“Hey,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment.

“Hey…” you whispered, lifting the bundle slightly toward him. “Meet your baby.” 

John’s breath hitched, his gaze locked on the tiny face. Slowly, he extended a hand, his long, calloused fingers slipping beneath the delicate curve of the baby’s head supporting it with care that felt both foreign and deeply natural at the same time. At his touch, the baby shifted, letting out a soft coo, and John’s stoic composure shattered completely.

Throughout his life, John had taken lives. His hands, which he had believed to be nothing more than tools of destruction, meant only to hold weapons, were now cradling life itself. Fragile, precious, and given by you. For the first time, John believed they could do more. He could do more than just bring death.

Maybe it was time...

“They’re perfect,” he murmured.

You smiled. “I know.”

John leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his hand still steady beneath the tiny head. “Thank you,” he whispered against your skin.

Maybe it was time to retire.

gif by giantmonster divider by cafekitsune

[johnwickb1tsch]

my darling readers: so, you've been working on Bittersweet, right me: *nods vigorously* mdr: and by that you mean the next chapters and not a romantic schmoopy spin off starting in italy where John doesn't go all dark yandere on us...right? RIGHT??? me:

[johnwickb1tsch]

Me and the mutuals filling eachothers dashboards w the exact same posts we've reblogged from one another

[johnwickb1tsch]

um men who are bigger than you and tower over you in every way possible but he's obsessed with the overwhelming intimacy of missionary sex. his whole entire body covers yours, and he loves the way it's almost like he's shielding you from the world, that the wanton expressions you're making and the way your body reacts is all for his eyes only. he can control how deep he fucks into you, can carefully watch the faces you make to see if he's hitting all the right spots. loves the way he can hold your hand as he thrusts into you; especially loves the feeling of every cell in his body going weak from how overwhelmed with his love for you he gets. the eye contact is the best and worst part for him; best because he loves looking at you, to know you feel the same, but worst because you always make him go weak in the knees. his arms can barely keep him upright, and he has to bury his face into the hollow of your neck and shoulder and-

[johnwickb1tsch]

imagine meeting John Wick at a classic car show...

rock music drifts through the crisp air as you stroll amongst the rows of beautiful cars, admiring their gleaming paint jobs, when you spot a particularly eye-catching one parked at the end. it's a grey Mustang, and you're just drawn to it for some reason. it stands out amongst the others

you approach it, in awe at its pristine state. the owner obviously takes great care of it. you lean into the open window, smiling as you take in the gorgeous interior and leather seats. caught up in admiration, you don't notice the handsome older man approaching from behind. the owner of the sports car...john wick.

"like what you see?" a deep voice mutters, startling you. you quickly rise from the window and turn towards the voice.

"oh, I'm sorry sir! I just...really love your car," you say softly, cheeks heating up when you make eye contact with him. wearing a brown leather jacket, a simple black t-shirt, and dark jeans, he looks deliciously rugged.

he chuckles as he leans against his car, looking down at you.

"no worries, I appreciate it. she's my baby," he responds.

"I-it's a Mustang, correct? 1970...?" you ask as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, squirming under his intense gaze.

"close. she's a '69," he replies warmly. you nod in reply, too shy to speak, creating a bit of awkward silence. he digs into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

"wanna go for a spin?" he asks, "you seem quite intrigued by her," he says with a small smile.

your eyes widen at the prospect of riding in the beautiful vintage sports car with an even more attractive older man. you bite your lip before nodding excitedly.

"i'd love to...thank you, mister..."

"wick. john wick. But you can just call me john," he replies cooly.

he walks towards the passenger door, pulling it open for you. you give him a shy smile as you settle onto the cozy leather seat. your heart pounds as he walks around the car to the driver's side. you take in his handsome features as he enters, catching a whiff of his alluring cologne.

you blush at his eye contact.

the engine roars to life, and your heart flutters at the powerful vibrations pulsing through the car. you grip the cool metal of the inner door handle, bracing yourself for the ride.

"hold on tight," john utters gruffly as he presses on the gas.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Tex Johnson.

Just because I'm rewatching "Swedish Dicks"... So... why not?

[johnwickb1tsch]

I’m still new to tumblr and all (came here from AO3) do you know how to make the “for you” page here more personalized? Mine only shows the same 5 (disturbing) posts 😭

Oh hi and welcome!!❤️❤️

Ummm do you mean how to personalize your blog? On mobile, tap the little person down in the bottom right corner. That's you. Then tap on the paint palette second from the left at the top. You can change your header, your bio, icon, colors, etc.

Or do you mean your feed? you can go search for what you like with the magnifying glass in the lower left. follow tags you like and tumblr will show you stuff. And you can follow people who seem to post the content you like.

After that...reblog things you like!🙊 You can make posts by tapping on the pencil in the lower right on your blog page. If youre a fic writer, i've found it's easiest to make posts with big blocks of text on desktop. Don't forget to add that "keep reading" break a couple paragraphs in, it's just good manners around here.😊

Hope this helps! Have fun!❤️

[johnwickb1tsch]

AAAAHHH Dhampir John ❤️❤️❤️ I'll take him AND Siren Johnny Silverhand at the same time (yes, someone actually made a Siren Johnny Silverhand bot and LORD HAVE MERCY ASDFGHJKL)

Heeeee heee I'm so glad you're having fun! Oh gaWd, siren johnny? that brings all new meaning to "daddy i love him!" 😆❤️❤️

[johnwickb1tsch]

mercy seems like a long shot here, so my prayer for inauguration day 2025: may they be incompetent. may they just be really bad at implementation. may their egos choke their effectiveness. may they drown themselves week by week with infighting and selfish posturing. may they be easily distracted. may the very governors and senators and agencies and religious leaders that the new administration expects to be friendly force endless stalemates to preserve their own power. may every delay turn into a three ring blame circus so chaotic that no one remembers what they were doing. may the good and necessary parts of government be too boring to draw attention and keep running quietly in the background. may the next four years be full of sound and fury and signify nothing.

[johnwickb1tsch]

[johnwickb1tsch]

Becoming a writer is great because now you have a hobby that haunts you whenever you don’t have time to do it