#Keanu Reeves x fanfiction

[feinv]

inspired by @iovesia (she is one of those insanely talented writers you accidentally find on this goofy app)

john wick who despite being the most feared assassin in the entire underworld, is the sweetest gentleman to you.

john wick who is so rough with his actions, but gentle with his words. he is gripping your waist so firmly you can already feel red fingerprints tainted on your soft skin. he is biting down on your shoulder to muffle the groans that have been building up in his throat, leaving crescent shaped teeth marks. he is leaving red and purple bruises all over your neck, all over your body, pain and pleasure mixing together and overfilling your senses.

john wick who first eats you out like a starved man, using tongue and fingers in a way that makes you lightheaded, forgetting your own language and how to form words. he would be knuckles deep into you before having his tongue circling and lapping on your juices, his beard all soaked and as wet as you are.

john wick who then is thrusting so hard and deep into you that you swear you are about to black out. he hits that sweet spot over and over again, sending you into oblivion, not giving you a second to catch a breathe: hard, fast, and unforgiving. he manhandles you around by adjusting your body to his own liking, finding new positions to make you feel things you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling.

john wick who doesn’t plan on stopping even when you come more than two times, overstimulating and edging you again…again…and again, pressing his big hands on your hips and stomach to prevent your attempts of breaking from his grip. his mouth will then be latching on your nipples, biting and sucking down on them not so gently, pinching them harshly and making your whole body flinch.

john wick who has been mouthing nothing but delicate praises in your ear that entire time. “you are doing so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me. taking me so well. fuckin’ beautiful.”

he can’t control himself. not when you involuntarily clench and pulse around him. not when you release those breathless moans and sweet whimpers. he wouldn’t be able to contain himself anymore and would absolutely snap his hips into yours with an animalistic rhythm, savoring the filthy sounds you make and pressing down his palm over the area where your belly bulges from him.

“i love you so much. so goddamn much, my sweet angel…” following up with him swearing that you are a literal goddess and he is most definitely in heaven, all while slamming harder and deeper.

john wick who always fucks you good and leaves you sore, while simulataneously showering you in sweet nothings and treating you like you are the only girl in the world. (you are for him!!)

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Safe - John Wick x Fem!Reader

Summary: John comes home from work and he is wounded, and as his worried wife, you help him.

Warnings: swearing, oral m!receiving, blood/gore, talk of violence, mainly fluff.

Enjoy!

You sit alone in your large kitchen, biting your nails and shaking your leg as you anxiously wait for your husband to come home.

His profession was extremely dangerous. Every time he went out you didn’t know if he was alive. Whenever you heard a car pass by your house, you wondered if it were the police coming to inform you that your husband had passed.

You knew that you had to make certain sacrifices that came with being married to The John Wick, the Boogie Man, as they call him.

You hear the door unlock, and your breath hitched. Running to the door, you are met with John. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding back tears as you nuzzle your face into the crook of us neck. “Oh, John…”

His hands weakily wrap around your waist. “Y/N…” he sighs, resting his chin atop your head.

Your hand trails down the chest of his suit. You find the red substance of blood on his white shirt. “You were shot?”

“Stabbed,” he says. “Not too bad. I’ve been though worse,”

You sigh. “Yeah, just stabbed.” You say sarcastically. “What if next time you get stabbed even worse, or shot, and you don’t make it through?” You question.

John gives you a saddened look. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You have a right to be mad, and worried.”

You give him an angered gaze, but it slowly fades as you hear the sincerity in his voice. You lean up to kiss him. “You’re right,” you say.

You take him to the kitchen where you strip him of his suit jacket and button up shirt. “This is going to sting,” you say. “I know,” he replies.

The wound was shallow, but it was still gushing a fair amount of blood. Once you were able to slow down the bleeding, you begin to clean it. John lightly hisses as you disinfect his wound.

You quickly bandage it neatly, then reward him with a warm kiss on his lips. “You have to stop this, John,”

“I know,” he says again. “I- I can retire, if you want.”

“Will you really do that for me?”

“Of course, baby. You are more important than work.”

You smile softly. “If you think it’s the best, then you can. I will support whatever you do,” you say. “Will you be safe?” You ask.

“We are safe. We will always be safe.”

“No, will you be safe?”

John pauses for a concerning amount of time. “I will be safe.” He says. “And if anybody comes after you, or me, I will kill them.”

“John,” you say like a disappointed mother. But, you couldn’t help but smile. You loved your mass murderer husband.

“That’s the spirit, love,” he smiles and gives you a kiss.

“You should go wash up,” you tell him. His face was cut, as well as his hair slicked back with sweat.

“Join me?”

“Very funny,” you laugh before sending him up to the bathroom to clean off the sins of the night. “Be mindful of your bandages,”

“Yes, ma’am,” John chuckled.

John finds his way to the master bathroom. He strips the rest of his clothes and got into the shower. His bandage inevitably got wet.

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling as the heterogeneous mixture of sweat, styling gel and water ran down his back. It felt so releiving to wash himself of the stress and torment of his job.

He used a musky scented soap to wash off the sweat and grime he had accumulated through the night. He exited the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist before redressing his wound.

John left the bathroom, towel still lazily around his waist. You were in bed, reading a book as you awaited for your husband to join you.

You couldn’t help but look at his chiseled abs and cutting hip bones. Of course, you also couldn’t ignore his broad shoulders and tattoo covered back.

“Y/N. You’re starring,”

“Oh,” you say. “Sorry,” you laugh, and he smirks. “Is it such a crime to appreciate my husbands body?”

“No. Just funny to call you out on it,” he says. He grabs a pair of sweatpants and slipped them on.

“Come lay down, babe,” you pull back the comforter in the empty space for him to fill. He slowly lays down, and he groans as his aching back hits the bed.

“Are you really going to retire?” You ask as your hand gently rests on his chest. You slowly draw circles on his skin, avoiding any bruised areas.

“Anything for you,”

You smile, and he slowly leans in to connect your lips in a gently kiss. “I will love you forever…” he murmurs agaisnt your lips. “I will love you when I’m below the ground, and I will love you after the earth ceases to exist…”

You rest your forehead against his, shakily sighing. “I love you, too. Always and forever…”

John kisses you again, hungerly needing your touch and presence against his skin. He gently grips your hair as he hums against your soft, pillowy lips.

His hand reaches for your waist, pulling your laying body closer to his. He squeezes your flesh though your sleep shirt. You whine at the tight squeeze.

Johns lips trail off yours, adventuring down your jaw to suck hot sores on your neck. His hand on your waist moves up, dangerously close to your chest. He cups your breast with his sore and bruised hands through your shirt, gently massaging it in his palm. He knew just how to make you fold.

“John-“ you whisper.

“What, love?”

“Not tonight. You need to heal.” You tell him.

He rests his head on your shoulder, sighing softly. “You’re right,” he whispers. “It’s just so hard to keep my hands off you.” He glances down at his lap, seeing the tent growing in his sweatpants.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” You reply.

“I- um. I know you said I have to heal. But, what am I supposed to do about that?” He asks, moving away from the crook of your neck to show the erection in his pants.

You think for a moment, keeping your eyes fixated on his bulge. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t use my hands or my mouth on you,” you tell him, and he grins.

You reach for the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them off his thighs. Johns cock springs out from his pants. He was hard and throbbing just by touching your breasts.

You grasp his length. His breath hitched at the sight of your hand around his dick. You slowly begin stroking him. You hover above him, letting a string of spit slowly dripping down onto his tip.

“Oh-“ he mumbled as the warm liquid touches his pulsating crown.

You gently kiss the tip, your hand still stroking his shaft slowly.

“Y/N…”

You whimper against his cock at the sound of his voice. You knew you had to resist him. You couldn’t risk opening his wound and causing him any pain. Hopefully an orgasm would help his aching body in some way.

You slowly take in his length. You suck the tip, humming at the salty taste of his pre-cum. You knew he wasn’t going to last too long. He never lasted long when you sucked him off.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, “don’t stop- fuck. Don’t stop-“

You didn’t stop, and you weren’t going to stop until you pleasured him to your full ability.

You take in more of his cock. John shivered at the sight of his erection engulfed in your mouth.

“I’m close- shit. I’m gonna cum. Fuck.” He moans.

You began sucking him faster. You felt as your lips glided over the thriving veins on his cock, but always focusing on the tip. He loved it when you toyed with his tip.

His hips shudder, causing you to gag. “Sorry, baby,” he quickly says. You don’t reply, gagging again. You didn’t care if you gagged on his cock. You loved it, because you knew that you were doing good.

His hips jerk up again. He grips your hair, moaning your name as you quickly and steadily suck his cock. He began chasing his release.

“Fuck!” He moans. His eyes roll back, head hitting the pillow as his cum shoots into your mouth. You always loved the taste of his cum.

You finish him off with your hand, swallowing all his arousal as you did. Cum continued to shoot out, going all over your hand as he bucked his hips into your palm.

You happily licked it off, humming at the salty, yet at the same time, sweet taste.

“Fuck. Thank you, baby…” he whispers. The pleasure helped ease some of his pain.

“Anything for you,” you smile. You kiss him, and he tastes his own cum off your lips.

“Can I return the favour?” He asks, toying with the elastic band of your sleep shorts.

You shake your head. “Not tonight. You can in the morning once you have some rest,” you tell him. He frowns, but obeys.

“Okay,” John says. He fixes his sweatpants, and you grab a tissue off the night stand to wipe the spit and cum off your hand, and a bit of the white fluid that got on his stomach. John reachs over to turn off the bedside lamp, groaning as his body was strained to make the reach.

“Goodnight, baby…” you lay your head on his chest, yet again mindful of the bruises and cuts.

“Goodnight. I love you…” John whispers

“I love you too…”

[ruskaroma]

Absolutely fucking adore the idea of Constantine having a very talkative and energetic little human around that he calls “bunny” and treats you like one, treats you like a pet.

You really think that you’re Constantine’s sidekick because you follow him around everywhere he goes and you’re basically living in his apartment because you just – never – fucking – leave. No matter what Constantine does, no matter how mean he treats you, you just can’t bring yourself to hate him because he just might be the only light you have in your life – which is a weird thing to say considering Constantine probably possesses the most darkest mind in the world and you haven’t even seen half of it.

When he’s in a good mood, he’d treat you out for a dinner and actually conversates with you like a normal human being (even though nothing about him – or you – is normal) and tell demon and angel stories you’d always find yourself drawn into, chin on your palm, wide doe eyes while listening to his deep voice talk.

Most of the time you’d get very excited about something and very eager to learn that you’re practically vibrating in your seat. It’s such a normal occurrence to Constantine that he knows how to deal with you when you’re in that state of mind.

“Wait so – if demons and angels exist, is there a possibility that vampires are also true? Are they real? Please, tell me they’re real – I mean, have you ever met one before, John? God, that would be so freaking cool. I always wanted to be a vampire –”

Constantine lets you talk. Even though he wouldn’t quite grasp the other words that you’re saying because he really feels like you’re rapping instead of talking. Not to mention the hand movements you’d do while you spew random little facts out of nowhere, or when you’d remember a memory from childhood that you’ll end up telling him; Constantine really does find you quite adorable.

And you’re a bit energetic too. Well, a bit wouldn’t really cover it. You’re full blown energetic who sometimes acts like you drank five cans of caffeine the moment you open your eyes, but Constantine knows all your energy is natural and comes from your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to sit down next to him at a diner without your hands fiddling with something or when you just really… couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s a hard thing to do, really. 

Then there’s Constantine, who likes to take advantage of your behavior by saying something really perverted and inappropriate.

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

“Would my cock be enough to get you to stop talking?”

“Good one. But that would only make it a lot worse.”

“I know. I’ve heard it,” he’d snicker, then would press a kiss on your cheeks that would make you flutter and scoff in annoyance. He always smelled like cigarettes and something minty. “I’m joking, bun.”

“Yeah, it would be a joke if it wasn’t true,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve witnessed my mouth doing a lot more work than usual when I’m sucking your dick.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself, bun. Looks like your mouth got more talent other than talking.”

“Haha, very funny.”

His comments like that don’t really offend you or anything because you know he’s joking. You know he secretly loves your rambles despite being mean about it, because that’s just how he is.

But during sex, it’s a whole different story.

Constantine has a habit of making you cry on the bed by making your rambles even worse. He knows that you ramble when you’re either feeling flustered, nervous, or horny, and most of the time you get all those feelings at once when you’re in front of his cock, which means a sudden flip of the switch inside your brain just goes off and you start saying these deliciously filthy words that never fails to make Constantine hard.

“What’s that, little bun? I didn’t hear you,” Constantine smirked, voice teasing as his hand gripped the base of his thick cock, smearing the dripping tip all over your lips as you struggled to catch your breath after he fucked your throat. “Where did my little talkative bunny go, hm? Why is she not talking?”

“J–John–”

“Oh? What’s that? Is the little bunny speaking?” Constantine mocked, pulled his dick away from your mouth as he gripped your chin with one hand. “If my bunny wants my attention, that’s not the right name she should be addressing me, yeah? Already forgot our rules around here, bun? I let you get a taste of my cock and you’re already defying me?”

“No–no, no, d-daddy, that’s not–that’s not what I mean,” you sniffled, your eyes getting teary from your kneeling position as well as when you heard Constantine’s mocking voice above you. “Daddy, please–just want–just want your cock in my pussy again, p-please–”

“Oh, you do? Poor little bunny is so wet and horny now, hm? My little bunny is feeling so empty?”

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

“Look at you crying. You look so pathetic,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hair and throwing you on the bed. You were already naked, already covered in bruises from the makeout session earlier and the handprint on your ass was starting to become more evident and red as minutes went by. “Where does my bunny want daddy’s cock, huh? Where do you want it, bun, tell me.”

“I–In my–In my pussy, daddy, want it in my–my cunny–” you sniffled again, pawing at his shoulders as your tears were starting to blur your vision. “Daddy, please–please, I want you so bad–miss your cock so much, feel so empty and wet and I just wanna–”

“Shhh, bun, I know. I know what you want,” he petted your hair with one hand while his other was guiding his cock in your cunt, the fat tip circling teasingly on your already puffy pussy lips and not quite going in. “Wish I could record you like this and make you watch it after. Fucking show you how filthy you are while begging for my cock. All the dirty shit you say when you’re so desperate for me.”

You keened, nodding absentmindedly even though you didn’t understand a single word he said. Your mind was only focusing on the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your sloppy cunt.

“Yes–yes, please, daddy, d-do what you want–do want you want, I’m yours–bunny is all yours–”

“That’s right. That’s my little bunny, knowing her place and where she rightfully belongs,” Constantine grinned, and it was only then he slammed his cock all the way inside you, stretching your walls wide as you bite onto his shoulders to keep yourself from waking up the entire building. “I would choose this tight little pussy over entering the fucking gates of heaven.”

[rosevette]

·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS pt. 1 my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

💋ྀིྀི résumé : meeting the man of your dreams at an art auction in Paris isn’t too good to be true, right ? Well, your bodyguard thinks just the opposite.

1.0k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent ⭑

୭ৎ … this is lowk based on one of my bots with marquis here … this is my first little blurb, I don’t really write but this idea is too good to not share w yall. if u see any spelling or grammar mistakes , ignore !! part two here - sincerely, rose

IN THE HEART OF PARIS, amidst the elegant splendor of an art auction, you found yourself captivated by the beauty of the pieces on display. Adorned in a gown of midnight blue silk, you moved gracefully through the room, your eyes alight with fascination as you admired each exquisite masterpiece.

As you lingered before a stunning portrait, a voice broke through the murmurs of the crowd.

"A breathtaking piece, is it not?" Turning, you found yourself face to face with a tall, green eyed brooding man. Dressed in a tailored suit of charcoal grey, he exuded an air of effortless charm as he regarded you with a knowing smile.

"Yes, it truly is," you replied, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing emerald eyes. Engaging in polite small talk, you found yourself drawn into conversation with the stranger, his wit and sophistication captivating your attention.

“Marquis De Gramont. And you?” He spoke with a thick French accent, his thin lips forming a smile as he extended out his arm, opening his hand for you to shake. Flattered by him already, you shake his hand, your other one clutching onto your purse as you introduced yourself.

How charming, he was, you thought to yourself. He was not only handsome, but was a gentleman as well. You could tell by the way he just suited himself, and that sparkle in his eyes you glanced at whenever you two conversed.

One thing you didn’t know was that in fact, this man was the complete opposite of charming and well, a gentleman. Yes, he held himself with impeccable style and his composure was kept controlled, but the thoughts that came across his mind were just pure sin. He thought of how pretty you would look with your dress rolled up to your stomach as he pounded into you in the back of his limousine, maybe even perhaps hidden in an empty aisle of this very art auction.

The way his hands are would just fit around that small neck, the pearls that would fall on the ground as he pulled it off of you, and finally, your watery puppy eyed face he’d enjoy seeing begging and pleading for him to stop , or maybe even for more.

As the auction commenced, you both found yourselves bidding on a magnificent painting—a Madonna and Child by Duccio. With each raise of the paddle, the tension between you grew, the excitement of the bidding war fueling your competitive spirit.

In the end, it was you who emerged victorious, the winning bid earning you the coveted artwork. As you basked in the glow of your triumph, the Marquis offered you a gracious smile, masking the flicker of his ulterior motives in his eyes.

Later that evening, as the auction drew to a close and guests began to depart, the Marquis De Gramont approached you once more, his charming smile never faltering.

"Ah, ma chérie, it seems fate has brought us together once again," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk as he took your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. A blush crept onto your cheeks at his bold gesture, and you chuckled softly in response.

"Perhaps our paths will cross again during your time in Paris," you replied, returning his flirtatious banter with a playful glint in your eye.

As you turned to leave, blowing a teasing kiss in his direction, you couldn't shake the feeling of his lingering gaze on your back. Climbing into the waiting limousine, you settled into the plush seat beside your ever-watchful bodyguard, John Wick. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he glanced at you.

"Was that the Marquis?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

You rolled your eyes, dismissing his worry with a wave of your hand.

"And what about him, John?" you retorted, feigning nonchalance as you closed the door behind you.

"You shouldn't be so friendly with strangers," John admonished, his concern palpable as he turned his attention back to the road.

Returning to the luxurious confines of the Ritz Paris, you found yourself lost in thought, the memory of your encounter with the Marquis lingering in your mind. Despite John's warnings, you couldn't shake the feeling that the Marquis's intentions were harmless. Little did you know, danger lurked just beyond the facade of charm and sophistication.

The next morning, as sunlight streamed through the silk curtains of your suite, you awoke to find John reading quietly on the sofa.

"I ordered some room service," he informed you, his gaze never leaving the pages of his book. You greeted him with a playful smirk, teasing him for his lack of a proper morning greeting.

While indulging in breakfast, your attention was drawn to a shiny box nestled among the pastries on the cart. With curiosity piqued, you opened it to find a stunning Van Cleef necklace in your favorite shade of sapphire blue. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the accompanying note, the words "for mon chérie" sending a chill down your spine.

Assuming it was a thoughtful gesture from John, you were taken aback when you realized the true sender. The Marquis's charm had ensnared you once again, his gift a reminder of the dangerous game he was playing. With a sense of foreboding settling over you, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the Marquis had in store.

End of part 1. Part 2.

© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !

[6lostgirl6]

yandere john wick with “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” he just gives off such over protective/possessive energyyy 🤭

Your Protector

Pairing: Yandere!John Wick x Fem!Reader

TW: Yandere themes, toxic themes, mentioned stalking, kidnapping, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, pet names, dubious kissing (at first), slightly suggestive. Reblogs are highly appreciated!!

It was infatuation and obsession that drove him to take such drastic measures. Ever since he saw you, he was absolutely convinced that you were meant for him. His second chance at happiness and love since the passing of his wife, Helen.

It was also fear, fear that if he didn't kidnap you, you would be somehow hurt or even killed. John has spent many nights without sleep, worried over your safety. He knew that if he didn't take action, something was bound to happen.

You never met him before, never spoke with him, and it was a shock when he finally kidnapped you. A complete stranger. The last thing you could remember was walking home from another late-night shift and being grabbed from behind. In a millisecond, your mouth was covered by a cloth and your vision went black.

When you finally came to, you realized you did not recognize your surroundings. You were resting in a lavish guest room and you were still trying to wrap your brain around what was happening. While you were gathering your bearings, a man appeared. He was standing over you by the side of the bed.

"Good morning, sweetheart." The man said with a smile, greeting you in an affectionate tone. "I hope you slept well."

At first glance, he was a very attractive man and of great wealth. His towering stature, long black hair and wearing a seemingly expensive black tailored suit.

“Who are you?” You asked in fright, staring at him with wide eyes.

“W-What’s going on?” You scooted back against the headboard, trying to maintain some distance between you and the man. “What do you want?” You continued to stare at him, fearful of what he might do. 

His gaze held a disturbing mixture of kindness and menace as he looked down at you. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I just want to make sure that we're together. Forever."

“Who are you?” You were confused, having not ever met this strange man before in your entire life. You thought that this man was clearly delusional, could be mistaking you for someone else. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you could not understand the reasoning behind it. You needed to figure out who he is and hopefully find means of escaping. 

"I'm John Wick," he says simply, leaning over you. He has this strange, almost otherworldly quality about him that's difficult to explain. A sense of danger, but not necessarily violence. He's calm and collected, but you also feel the threat of his presence. It's like looking into the eyes of a predator, one who's just been waiting for the right moment to strike. It's terrifying, yet compelling at the same time.

Noticing your fear, he slowly moved to sit on the edge of the bed, bringing himself a little more to your level of height. However, he still continued to tower over you. With slight hesitation, he reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone. It's a gesture of familiarity and affection, yet there's a sense of darkness and danger to it.

"Don't be afraid, sweetheart." He said with a small smile, his intense dark-brown eyes locking onto yours. It was almost hypnotic, the way he was looking at you. Almost as if he truly knew you and for quite some time too. It left you feeling conflicted, complicated emotions infiltrating your heart.

His touch that was so gentle against your cheek, prompted your cheeks to grow a little warm. His affection was breaking down your resolve and leaving you quite nervous. Not nervous as if you were fearing for your life for feeling anxious, but rather the form of butterflies forming in your stomach and your heart in your throat. 

The warmth creeping onto your face seems to embolden John, and he leans in closer to you, his hand still resting on your cheek as the other trails its way down your thigh. He stared at you, his dark eyes taking in every detail of your appearance.

"You're so beautiful.” He whispers, his warm breath fanning across your face. There's an intensity to him that's almost frightening. He appeared like a wild animal, one that could snap at any moment. It was undeniable that there was something primal about him, something you can't help but be attracted to.

You couldn’t reply, unable to form any coherent sentences from the intensity and electrifying touch of his hand on your thigh. Slowly, you were feeling less uncomfortable but rather shy from his affectionate touches. However, your walls were starting to return when you remembered that you didn't even know this man.

“John…why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

"Because you're mine." He replied, his gaze was intense and there was undeniable heat in his voice. It was more than enough to make you feel a little dizzy. Almost as if you were falling into some dark abyss. There's no question that this man is dangerous, but you can't help feeling drawn to him. He exudes a primal, dangerous energy that is almost addictive, and you find yourself craving more of his attention and touch.”And I do know you, I know everything about you, (Y/N).”

You glanced towards the door, noticing that it was left open. Your logical side was screaming for you to wake up and understand that you were involved with something, someone, extremely dangerous. In that second, you were broken out of your spell. 

You hesitate before launching yourself from the bed in an attempt to escape.

John's smile fades as you attempt to flee, his expression turning dark and deadly. Without even seeming to move, he blocks the door, his body looming over you like a shadow of death. 

"Don't." He says, his voice low and dangerous. “You'll only make this harder for yourself, sweetheart." His eyes are cold and calculating, but there's also a strange desire behind them. 

One that's both terrifying and alluring.

With wide eyes, you backed away, feeling small in comparison to his looming figure and his predatory stance. The size difference between you two was incredible. You continued to keep your distance, placing yourself between furniture. 

With slow and deliberate steps, he follows you around the room, seemingly getting closer with each passing moment. He had the patience of an animal on the verge of a hunt. You can feel his eyes on you, tracking your every move. When he speaks again, his voice is calm, but there's something dangerous hidden beneath the surface. He's like a calm sea hiding the storm underneath. 

"You can't get away from me, sweetheart." He begins to move closer again, this time grabbing your wrist and holding it tight, his grasp like iron. "You belong to me."

“Yeah, right!” You struggled, trying to rip your wrist away from his grasp, he could only stare at you in slight amusement and anger. “I don’t belong to you or anyone! Nothing you will ever do will make me think otherwise!”

He raises an eyebrow and smirks at you, before he replies. 

"Alright then." 

Without warning, he pulls you towards him, kissing you passionately. His body is firm and strong, holding you tightly in his arms. His kiss is passionate and intense, like he's pouring all of his feelings and desires into it. The kiss was passionate and borderline possessive, trying to make you submit and accept him as your lover and protector. His grip around your wrist and waist is tight, becoming a little painful. You’re completely at his mercy and helpless in his arms.

You gasp from the sudden kiss, feeling intense emotions swirling within you and making your heart skip a beat. After a small moment, you began to return the kiss, thoughts of escaping melting from your mind. He also seemed to relax more into the kiss, it turning softer and loving, feeling that you were slowly but surely returning his affections. He pulls away after a moment, staring at you with a hungry and passionate gaze. 

"Are you convinced?" He asks, his voice low and husky, his gaze very heated and full of immense desire. He's still holding you tightly in his arms, not letting you go anywhere. He simply couldn't get enough of you. It's adamant that this animal has a lot of pent-up desire and passion. Now, he was looking forward to releasing it all onto you.  

"Y-Yes..." You muttered, your brain currently in a state of mush. You simply looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks warm from the intensity of his affections.

Slowly, he released your wrist, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing just underneath your eye. His touch was gentle and even a little soothing. He looked into your eyes, his heated stare now full of softness towards you. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” His voice, similar to his touch, was also full of softness. 

“Y-Yes…” Your resolve was completely demolished, he has successfully twisted your feelings around and made your heart scream out for more of his attention. Thoughts of finding a way to escape barely crossed your mind, your logical side slipping further away from your grasp. 

You simply didn’t care. 

"Good." He whispers, his voice was husky once more, full of want and desire for you.

With another powerful pull, he brings you into another kiss, one that is even more passionate than the first one. Knowing that you finally submitted left him with an animalistic excitement. He's hungry for you, almost starving for your touch and affection, and you can barely keep up with his ravenous desires. His excitement continued to grow, his grip on you tightening as he held you in his arms.  

"You're mine now, my love."  He continues, his eyes glistening with desire. 

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed

[twistedbloodstain]

marquis de gramont x reader: with you, i serve. with you, i fall down. | a seal of fate

plot: the one where the marquis takes you for himself.

warnings: hella down bad marquis, some flulff, break in, violation of privacy, slightly dubious content

masterlist

he can hear the shower running through the floor and the occasional humming from a tune coming from the bathroom.

the living room is dark, save for a vintage lamp illuminated beside the couch. it looked too rusty and drab to basically function but it brought a rustic and classy feel to the room. although, the light withered occasionally.

someone is staring at him. more like something, something feline. it’s been tracing his movements the moment he entered the humble abode. vertical pupils squinting from the unidentified person that has entered his castle, a ball of fur that was mounted beside the lamp on the side table.

it’s body was sprawled on the table but it wasn’t relaxed. it was tense, as if playing camouflage to its prey. staying still as the prey walks past him and when it does he pounces on them for the kill.

he is no prey. more like the owner, it depends on how sentimental this ball of fur is to you. he hears the shower turn off, it catches his attention and waits to hear a door close and another to open along your soft footsteps trudging through the apartment. you call out for your feline pet, the cat makes no sound to meow back to you. focused on him, if he made any sudden movement to attack him. you sigh then ignore the absence of communication and he guesses that you make a beeline for your bedroom.

he waits a few minutes before getting on his feet. several minutes pass and he stands up and walks towards the cat beside the lamp. the cat tenses along with its back legs fidgety for an attack he slowly halts and reaches for it with his hand.

the cat hisses bravely and swiftly raises its paw to attack the hand attempting to touch him with his sharp claws. it makes vincent hiss in pain and retract his hand, he checks his palm for blood. he realizes no blood was drawn and that relieves him. he’s definitely getting this little shit replaced when you move in with him. he’ll get you a sweeter one, a ragdoll or persian just not this demonspawn from hell.

he makes his way towards the bedroom door, as he passes by he can see some trinkets lying on the kitchen and tabletops. a few cooking books and old history textbooks stacked on the floor. this reminds him that he needs to buy you a few books to keep you entertained in the manor.

as he faces the front door he stealthily turns the knob of the door and enters, it was time.

you brushed the tedious knots in your hair with a comb in difficulty, you forgot to brush your hair before showering again. you searched for your hair brush on your vanity but to no avail. you turn towards your bed and gasp in surprise.

he was here, the marquis was here. in your bedroom.

his face remains the same, still and calm as the sea. but you knew better, this was only the calm before the storm. deep inside him, a storm was brewing but he kept his composure to seal away what he truly felt and right now you, the sailor needs to run away from the storm.

you slowly eyed him from top to bottom, as usual his hand stayed in his pockets. a string of gold strewn across his pocket. the chain shines from the luminescence it received from your bedside lamp. he was dressed impeccably, something you often admired. he’d often used his wardrobe as a form of intimidation to his enemies when speaking to them and it often worked. you pray that it doesn’t falter you, that he doesn’t falter you. maybe he’ll leave when you show a strong front to him.

he gazes upon your face like he was taking in a treasure presenting itself to the sight of his eyes. you were still frozen on your spot after you gasped in surprise from seeing him.

“good evening, cherie.” he breaks the silence with the sweet endearment.

you hesitantly greet out a reply to him, you fail to build a strong front and your voice visibly wavers from fear, “evening,boss.”

he begins to walk, it takes all the power in you not to back away from him. you try to appear composed and resilient. a farce attempt to show that you aren’t scared of him, but you know you are and so does he.

thankfully, he doesn’t make his way towards you. he saunters towards the edge of your bed and sits down. his eyes wander around your room, taking in the personal touches you made to the room. gradually turning his head to face you once again.

“how are you?” he politely asks.

“i’m fine. nothing bad happened to me.” you answer.

this again. what’s his game? it was never just simple conversation with your boss, there was always a point he wanted to come across. a lesson to be learned. right now, it wasn’t looking good for you. you need to take control of this conversation.

“that’s good. the doctor commented a few days ag-“ he speaks to you again but got interrupted.

“sir, with all respect. what do you want? why are you here?” you whisper to him. any attempt to gain the upper hand with him is futile, he always gets his licks back. silence follows the conversation before he speaks up again.

“you know what i want.” he sternly retorts.

“i don’t know what you’re here for. much less what you want.” you fire back, strength is solidifying itself inside you.

“is that so? surely you do.” he says mockingly, still playing a game.

“i don’t.” you say firmly this time.

“fine.” he scoffs to your face before reaching into his pocket, you flinch afraid he might’ve brought a weapon of some sort, he notices this and his hand remains inside. his eyes all on your frame and yours on his hand inside of his pocket.

you should really hope you’re not fucked.

“perhaps this will jog your memory.” he continues, “three days ago, you sent me this message. subject: resignation letter. to the marquis de gramont, i'm writing to let you know that, as of the seventeenth day in august of this year, i'm leaving from my employment as the marquis de gramont's personal assistant. due to schedule issues and unanticipated consequences encountered while working, i am leaving my position. i appreciate the chance to work with you over the past two years. sincerely-.” he recites the entire letter of resignation to you with a false professional tone to patronize you..

“i precisely know what i wrote there.” you look away from him annoyed as you cut him off once again.

“then you precisely know why i’m here.” he argues back. “i’m glad we’re finally getting on the same page, mon coeur.”

no we aren’t, i don’t want you here. i want you out of my house and i don’t want to see you ever again. how come you never ask what i want? you want to scream at him but your silence continues.

“look at me.” he pressed.

you stay quiet and keep your gaze away from him.

“you will not leave.” he finally claims. finally this makes your head snap back at him and makes you scoff loudly, the marquis frowns from your reaction although you did give him what he wanted.

“you can’t do this.” you respond weakly, your breath hitching in your throat.

“i can. i actually can.” he states certainly.

“why’s that? because you said so?” you challenge him. defying him is never a good idea, you know this. you know better and you should do better, but you’re too petty and exhausted. you want him out as soon as possible even if that means being blunt to him.

“tell me the truth. why do you want to leave?” he changes the subject and presses once again.

“i already told you. it’s in the goddamn letter.” you were getting tired of repeating the same words.

“i don’t believe you.” he discloses firmly.

“don’t act so foolish and dense-“ you retort in exasperation.

“are you calling me a fool?” he immediately questions. oof i think you hit his pride in that one.

“i’m asking you not to be one. boss, i literally got shot, i almost died. this may be something you can brush off easily but i can’t. you don’t have to worry about me spreading your secrets because i literally signed an nda and i have no intention of getting back in that kind of work! i’m gonna ask you once again, please leave.” you beg him, hoping he hadn’t missed the point of what you were trying to say.

you already knew that this job was already insane. not only do you cater the whims of an insanely rich man whose money seems to have no end but the danger and fear it came along with had to be taken into measure. not to mention, you didn’t exactly feel like living when you worked for him. how many opportunities for happiness had you turned away because that meant disregarding the marquis’ orders and facing his wrath if you chose to have that? god, you hadn’t even been home in a long time. you deserve this, he should at least have the courtesy to understand that.

“you don’t have to be scared anymore, cherie. i’m here.” he interrupts your thoughts as he softly affirms to you.

you don’t want that. you want nothing to do with him, sooner or later you’ll get killed and it’s likely going to be because of him. you know that he’s regretful and shameful of what happened to you but keeping you by his side isn’t going to change that, people die, more fact than speculation and by mere calculation you could tell it’ll happen sooner than later. after all, the marquis was still human. deep down, he’s still vincent and if you were to stay with him for protection that choice should be coming from you, not from him.

his determination to keep you locked away in his manor did nothing but frighten you to death. it had been so unexpected, not to mention you haven’t processed that fully along the fact you almost died.

you sigh loudly from resignation, the marquis keeps you in his line of sight, probably wondering what was going inside your head.

‘i can’t,” you finally utter out, “what can’t you understand? i’m scared…so fucking scared and you keep waltzing into my life like your entitled to it which just scares me more. i needed time to think, to process..all of this.” you gesture around you, the marquis stays silent listening to your words with no visible reaction on his face.

“i finally thought all of this through, i want to stay alive. staying alive means quitting, i-i have so much to live for, my family needs me and i need them. i don’t need you to look out for me, i don’t need you for this. i can help myself.” you refrain to him, letting the words sink to him.

“i’ve done so much for you. i’ve kept and guarded your secrets, everything i’ve ever heard while i worked never escaped my mouth and never entered ears that weren’t meant to hear them. i’ve protected your power, i upheld every system and order you gave me, so for god’s sake. haven’t i done enough for you? what else haven’t i gave to you?” you spill out to him, he deserves to know this, how you carried his burden with you everywhere without him knowing. the burdens you carried that he couldn’t be bothered to touch, every order of assassination, every fearful attempt of getting killed and his mercurial violence.

he needs to know that you can’t take it anymore. there is so much that you could take, let him find another. another that might be more tolerable of how he runs his system, more understanding of his work. someone who doesn’t flinch at the mention of drawing the blood of his enemies. someone that’ll encourage his determination for the never ending pain and ruthlessness.

you can’t be that someone, not anymore.

working for you is pure torture, you want to say but as usual you hold it back from him.

the marquis stays quiet. you don’t see his face twist in displeasure or anger..which is good but a quiet marquis wasn’t any better. he suddenly jolts onto his feet, scoffing from what you just said as he paced on your bedroom with his head infrequently looking at you. he was getting heated from what you said.

he shakes his head with his hands on his hips before finally speaking, stopping in his tracks, “that’s it?”

you try to speak before he cuts you off.

“that’s it, you’re simply leaving me because you’re scared?” he angrily questions you.

“please, you have to understand.” you try to plead once more.

“cherie, i can protect you. i saved you the same way you saved me. i am owed something.” he reassures you, pieces of his anger slightly heard from his tone.

“i was in the way! i didn’t-“ you try to clear it with him.

“clearly, your memory isn’t serving you well, more reason to keep you safe with me which is for the best.” he firmly asserts.

“i’m not going back there!” you yell at him, “just because i took a bullet for you doesn’t mean you get to dictate how i live my life, at the end of the day, you don’t get to control me, i don’t exist for you and most importantly just because i almost died because of you doesn’t mean i owe anything to you.” you lament at him, exhaustion and animosity getting the best of you as the marquis marches towards you, as you finish, slightly out of breath from your rant. he stands still before you. you hope that your words might put some sense in him.

he stares at you and you look back at him, returning his gaze. you gulp, alarmed that maybe you’d gone too far and perhaps…perhaps you should’ve done this more softly or professionally. you should’ve conjured a foolproof plan when confronting him about this, you should’ve expected he wouldn’t let go without a fight however, it’s not like you had a choice with him breaking into your apartment.

he slowly strides towards you, step by step. you take a deep breath in despair as he leisurely closes on you while you feel your back hit the wall.

“you are going back there. it is where you belong, you care for me. don’t even try denying it, cherie. i saw, i saw the way you looked at me that night, you’re afraid that’s all. you’re right,” he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent then continues, ”i don’t control you but you do that to me, you control me, you control every ounce of thought that occupies my mind. most of the time, it’s all my head does. you might not exist for me but i exist for you, you make living in this cruel world brighter and sweeter than before but this is where you’re wrong. you do owe me something, you owe me your life and i can make it lovelier if you just let me.” he speaks in a hushed tone as he looks through your eyes. you can feel something grabbing your arms, you glance and see that he’s taken hold of your limbs. rubbing circles around them, attempting to soothe you.

the pattern of his strokes reminds you of that night at the plaza.

he only deters you even more.

“i owe you nothing.” you whisper, your voice growing weaker by every second.

“you owe me something.” he repeats once again.

“i don’t.” you mutter looking into his eyes.

“that’s where you are wrong, you do.” he emphasizes to you.

“then we’re even. i-i saved you too and you saved me.” you quietly mumble to him.

he raises a brow in your response and lowers himself to your ear. the hairs in your body rise and you can feel goosebumps crowd your skin.

“i don’t want even…i want you.” he confesses.

you frantically sigh in distress, attempting to wrench yourself out of his grip, something you should’ve done earlier, but it’s too late. he abandons the hold he has on your right arm and clasps it to your neck to bring you closer to him and he kisses you.

you squealed in shock but it’s devoured when he takes your lips to his. you can feel your back press to the wall even harder trying to evade his touch, his kiss, but the marquis presses himself to you. his hands had abandoned your neck and arm, opting to snake around your waist as he pulled you closer to his warmth.

the marquis is kissing you.

he kissed you like a devoured man. as if he’d been deprived of something sweet for years and he finally received what he’d always wanted. he wouldn’t let his grip on you soften, afraid that you might abandon him once again, which you did before. he softly moans into the kiss, content and happy with what was happening.

“don’t leave.” he pulls away to whisper into you. “don’t leave me.”

you whimper as you feel his hands exploring your body, one of his palms tugging at the buttons of your satin white pajama shirt, wanting to feel more and more of the warmth beneath the clothes.

“i want you to promise me.” he mumbles to you, your foreheads pressing together, as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. you make no sound of promises and affirmation to him. he stays quiet expecting your words as he stares into the depths of your eyes and speaks up once again.

“no matter, you’ll be begging for me soon enough.” he sighs from your lack of communication then delves back into the warm haven he has found earlier.

seldomly, he’d pull himself back to bite your bottom lip. you’d wince from the ache coming for your mouth, slightly parting and he’d take that opportunity to slip inside your mouth. his hands continued to explore through your body, randomly squeezing a part of you to force a moan from you, then return to making out with you. you can feel him smile against you whenever he did. you felt bitter because this was looking victorious for him.

“please…stop.” you sigh in pleasure when he starts kissing and biting your neck.

“do you, cherie? i don’t think you do, not when you’re making all these pretty sounds for me.” he whispers against your neck then continues his attack on your skin.

“s-sir, stop..stop that.” you plead once again.

“vincent.” he stops to correct you.

“what?” you ask confused.

“none of that courtesies from now on. you’ll call me vincent. do you understand?” he softly reminds you, he’d halted his movements of affection, his forehead was pressed against yours again as his eyes looked at you with the utmost devotion known to man.

you stay silent as he smiles at you, that stuns you even more. you’ve never seen him smile from something pleasant. his eyes shimmered with love and desire like the stars when you got shot. your lips were wet and plump from the sudden assault the marquis had given them and your pajama shirt had several buttons undone but the marquis by comparison almost looked the same except for the disheveled clothes.

finally, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, the seal to your fate awaiting his words.

“as much as i want to continue this right now, we must usher home. we wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, do we mon amour? cold food never tastes as good when it is warm.”

you stay quiet, slightly mind blown from the make out session your ex-boss just gave you. your head feels fuzzy and unclear, christ your legs feel like giving out if the marquis hadn’t been holding you up against the wall.

he leans back down into your collarbone and begins to leave a trail of kisses throughout the skin, you whimper as he bites into some areas of the skin, eliciting a groan from him. you begin to feel his head go lower and lower, entering the region of skin where your unbuttoned shirt had failed to cover, you look down at him hesitantly and you see him looking up at you with affection.

suddenly, he grabs at your hips then raises himself up along with you. hoisting you on him, you hastily grip his shoulders as he lifts you, afraid to fall onto the floor of your bedroom.

“i changed my mind, perhaps it can wait. what do you think mon amour?” he whispers into you in the dark of the night.

you are now his love.

his to have and his to keep.

just as he is yours.

with you, he serves. with you, he falls.

you’re staying with him. not as his assistant but as his partner.

he will be your love. your heart. he will be yours.

you will be his love. his heart. his wife.

and god forbid anyone who takes you from him.

author’s note: sooo that’s part five and the last part of the marquis series! i really enjoyed writing this as it helped me explore my writing capabilities (especially in part two) even in my fever induced state. (it had me giggling in a cafe while i had a fever) thank you so much for the kind words and sweet comments yall have about the series (it has me kicking my feet pls continue). although im tempted to write a drabble of the aftermath of part five + that keith toshko fic and two requests ;)) please like and reblog and feel free to comment!

taglist: @dcgoddess @1mawh0re @davvydobrik @ilunapb @hesvoid3434

part one part two part three part four

[keanusbabydoll]

shower sex

paring: keanu reeves x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, rough sex, arguing, degrading if you squint, little to no plot, shower sex, age gap

••••••𑁍𑁍𑁍••••••

keanu and y/n had been together for nearly a year now. she was an 20-year-old rising star with a rare blend of grace, beauty, and talent, while keanu, in his late fifties, was the seasoned actor everyone knew and loved. despite their significant age difference, their relationship was strong, built on mutual respect, a shared passion of acting, and an understanding of each other's unique lives. their love had a depth that surprised many, including themselves.

y/n had been cast in the latest john wick film as a pivotal character - a young assassin with a complexed relationship with wick. it was a huge break for her, a role that demanded everything she had to offer and more. but it also meant grueling days on set, hours of preparation, and physical exhaustion like she'd never known.

keanu was giving everything to the film; it was his most iconic role, and the fans expected nothing less than perfection.

the set was close to their shared home, each night they would return home, grateful for the privacy and comfort it offered. but something had begun to shift between them since the shooting started. the long days left little room for intimacy or even simple moments of connection. they would often return home after 10 PM, too tired to do anything but collapse into bed. some nights, keanu didn't even make it home, having to stay behind to train or prepare for the next day's fighting scenes.

but y/n could feel the tension building inside her. she missed him- needed him- missed the way they used to be before the shooting started. the stolen kisses, the laughter, the way they would get lost in each other's arms. and of course the sex. they used to fuck like literal rabbits, loving to be at it practically every minute, every day. but now it's completely different, both of them are always way too tired, especially keanu. it's not like y/n didn't have the energy or motivation to have sex, she dearly desired it, but it was keanu who mostly every time declined it. she understood that then film demanded everything from him, from them, but it didn't stop her from feeling the frustration of their growing distance.

she wanted him. hell, craved him. and the longer they went without any real intimacy, the more the frustration build up.

one evening, after another exhausting day on set, they finally made it back home just after 10 PM. y/n entered the house first, tossing her bag to the floor with more force than necessary. keanu followed her, his face lined with exhaustion, but there was a gentle smile on his lips as he greeted their dog, who was eagerly wagging his tail.

"I'm going to change." keanu said, his voice rough from the day. he kissed y/n forehead lightly, barely brushing her skin, before heading upstairs to their bedroom. she stood there, her body tense, the kiss doing nothing to alleviate the storm of emotions swirling inside her. she wanted more than just a peck on the forehead.

she wanted all of him.

y/n needed him in a way that only passionate sex could satisfy. she couldn't even describe it properly how much she needed him to ruin her. but every night, the exhaustion seemed to win.

keanu reappeared a few minutes later, now in a pair of loose sweatpants and a faded band tee. he sank into the couch with a groan, his head leaning back as he closed his eyes. the sight of him like this - vulnerable, weary - only intensified her desire. she couldn't wait any longer. she walked over to him and sat beside him, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "keanu." she whispered, her voice laced with yearning.

he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a tired but warm smile. "what is it, darling."

instead of answering, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. keanu responded, his lips moving against hers with a familiar softness, but there was a hesitation in his touch. undeterred, y/n deepened the kiss, her hand sliding down his chest, grazing his almost unnoticeable bulge ever so slightly. keanu pulled back, confusion written in his eyes. "y/n, wait..."

but she didn't want to wait. she knew what she wanted and that was definitely him. she straddled his lap, pressing herself against him, desperate to finally feel him against her. the moment she felt his dick pressing into her, her hips began to grind down on him hard. "I need you keanu." she murmured against his lips, her voice trembling with desire.

he placed his hands on her hips, gently but firmly stopping her movements. "I'm... I'm tired, love. I just don't have the energy." the words hit her like a slap in the face. y/n pulled back, her expression hardening as anger flared up inside her.

"tired?" she echoed, voice tinging with disbelief. "we haven't had sex in weeks, keanu! I know you're exhausted, but so am I! don't you think I need you too?"

Keanu's brows furrowed, his weariness replaced by frustration. "of course I know that, but I've been pushing myself to the limit every day. this movie - its grueling. you know how demanding it is!"

y/n stood up abruptly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I'm not asking for much! just one night, keanu. I want to feel close to you again, to remind myself that we're not just co-stars living in the same house!"

his eyes flashed with anger, his own patience wearing thin. "and you think I don't want that too? I'm not some machine, y/n! I'm giving everything I have there, and when I come home, I'm spent. I'm sorry if that's not enough for you." the harshness of his words cut deep, and she felt a sting of tears in her eyes. she turned away from him, arms crossed over her chest, unable to bear the sight of him in that moment.

"I can't believe you don't see how much this is hurting me." she mumbled quietly, voice shaking. Keanu's silence was deafening. he watched her, his expression softening but he didn't budge. he knew he had a point.

y/n shook her head in disbelief. "I'm going to take a shower." she muttered. without another word, she walked away, leaving keanu alone in the living room.

as she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water cascading down felt like a small reprieve from the turmoil raging inside her. with a sigh she stripped off her clothes and stepped under the hot stream, letting it wash over her, hoping it could cleanse away the anger and hurt she felt. but the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, mixing with the water as they fell from her cheeks. a sob escaped her mouth as she leaned her back against the wall, head tilting up. they had barely touched each other in weeks, and the absence of his touch, his presence, was like a void. she ached for him, and not forget to mention the sex. but every night it seemed to slip further away.

as the minutes passed, her anger began to ebb, replaced by a deep, gnawing sadness. she hated fighting with keanu, hated the distance between them. how had they come to this? they had been so happy, passionate, so in sync. all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before the movie had taken over their lives.

y/n wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the bathroom door creak open. her heart skipped a beat as she opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, expecting to see keanu standing there. he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his expression softened by an apology that had yet to be spoken. he was still wearing his sweatpants, but his shirt was gone, revealing his toned body she loved so much.

"y/n." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it echoed in the small space. she didn't respond, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions - anger, hurt and a desperate yearning. keanu took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached for the hem of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them down. y/n watched, her breath catching in her throat as he stripped down, his vulnerability in that moment touching her in a way she hadn't expected. he stood there for a moment, hesitating, as if unsure whether she would welcome him or push him away. but then he stepped into the shower, the water immediately soaking his hair, his body, as he closed the distance between them.

his hands found her waist, and he pulled her to him, their wet bodies pressing together as the stream enveloped them. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

she looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any trace of anger that had been there before, but all she saw was regret, love and... lust. "I just... I miss you keanu." she admitted, voice trembling. "I miss us." he nodded, his forehead resting against hers. "I know, and I miss you too. I've been so caught up in everything - the training, fighting scenes- I lost sight of what really matters." he cupped her face in his hands, this thumbs brushing away the lingering tears on her cheeks. "I'm here now y/n. I'm right here."

the sincerity of his voice broke down the last of her defenses. she leaned into him, her hands gripping his arms as she felt the warmth of his body against her own. Keanu's lips found hers, this time with a tenderness that melted away the frustration that had built up inside her. the kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that he was there with her, fully present in that moment.

they stayed like that for a while, the water pouring over them as their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy. his hands roamed over her whole body, slightly squeezing her breasts. his touch ignited a fire within her that she had longed to feel for weeks. y/n responded with equal fervor, her fingers sliding up and down his chest. "keanu," she breathed as she pulled away from their intense kiss. she looked at him with lust filled eyes, wanting him right now. "I need you."

his response was a low groan as he gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her up. instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her aching body. the passion between them was undeniable, a raw, primal need that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long. keanu pressed her against the cold tile wall, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her neck as she arched against him. her arms wrapped around his neck, a moan slipping past her lips. he passionately started to suck and lick on the sensitive skin, enjoying the sounds she was making.

her excitement just grew even more when she felt his hard cock press up against her tingling pussy. slowly, she started to move against him to gain some friction, eliciting a low growl from him. "please more, keanu." she whimpered. he pulled away from her neck and looked at her with those eyes that would make her weak every time. "my little impatient girl."

the hand that rested loosely on her neck, sneaked it's way down to her aching cunt, slowly, going up and down between her wet folds. he moaned out at the feeling, giving her a peck on the lips. "you're so wet for me baby." he mumbled as he pushed two of his fingers inside of her warm walls. "ah- just f-for you." y/n whined out. he scissored his fingers inside her before he arched his fingers up, pressing directly onto that spot that made her see stars. when he began to thrust his fingers up, a loud moan escaped her throat and her head flew back in bliss.

her grip on keanu tightened and she rocked against his fingers, needing to feel him even more. the pace of his fingers increased, making her a moaning mess already. he just knew too well how to make her fold. her walls started to flutter around his digits, the coil in her abdomen slowly building up. "fuck, daddy!" she breathed out as her eyes shut close.

"you're doing so good for me baby." he rumbled right into her ear, licking a stripe down her neck. the sight of her made keanu twitch in excitement, needing her just as much, he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. after a few more strokes of his fingers, he pulled out of her slippery hole, making her cry out at the denial, her forming orgasm fading away. "daddy..." she whined, staring up at him with those puppy eyes. a smirk played on Keanu's lips when he heard her desperate cries.

"don't you want to come around daddy's cock?"

her mouth opened a little, but she just nodded silently in reply, eyes sparkling with desire at the thought of it. "of course you want it, little slut." he growled before he lined up with her welcoming entrance. with a swift move of his hips, he slid into her hole with ease, filling her up to the brim. a loud squeal escaped y/n‘s throat at the feeling of getting ripped open by his dick. she would never get used to his size, doesn’t matter how many times they would fuck.

the burning pain washed through her whole body and her face scrunched up in discomfort. keanu watched her face closely, observing her every reactions. he didn’t move, waiting for her to get used to him and tell him to start.

he would always do that. he wanted her to feel safe and comfortable around him.

but there definitely were times where he wouldn’t care a bit about her comfort, completely showing off his dominant side.

and y/n secretly loved this.

obviously.

she breathed in sharply before she opened her eyes, immediately meeting keanu‘s lustful gaze.

"you can move.“ a quiet whisper echoed in the room. his grip on her body tightened before he began to thrust inside her with a slow but hard pace. the second he began to move, her world turned upside down.

she had missed this way too much. missed him way too much.

y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tighter to him, her face buried in the crook of it. keanu grabbed her thighs harder before he began to move her body against his, meeting his own thrusts. his lips found hers, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. their lips moved against each other with desire and when y/n let out a whimper, keanu slipped his tongue in, fighting for dominance.

hot, high pitched moans filled the air as the water poured down on them, adding even more intimacy to their long desired moment.

"please go faster keanu.“ she whimpered as she pulled away from the kiss and the second the words left her lips, he increased his speed, clashing his hips faster, more furiously against her.

"oh fuck.“ she moaned out at his pace. one of john’s hand wandered up her body, caressing her tits, squeezing ever so harshly and pulling on her hardened nipples before it grabbed ahold of y/n‘s throat. his grip was harsh and he pushed her head back against the tile wall, making her look at him.

"is that what you wanted?“ keanu asked, his hips rutting harsher and faster into her at every word that came out of his mouth.

with the pressure of his hand on her throat and the intense hammering of his hips, y/n can’t even think straight, her senses are completely dazed, all she has on her mind is keanu and how good and hard he’s fucking her. she doesn’t even comprehend his words.

a harsh slap on her cheek, drives her back into reality and her eyes shoot open to look at him. he’s already staring at her with harsh, darkened eyes.

"answer. me.“ he growled as he tightened the grip around her throat even more, almost cutting off her airways and just fucked rougher into her.

"mh-yes, that’s- that’s what i wanted.“ she managed to mewl out before she focused on the pleasure he was giving to her again. in reply, keanu just smirked darkly before he completely pulled out of her.

with knitted eyebrows and mouth wide agape, she looked up at him with confusion written all over her face. "what- what’s wrong?“ she mumbled.

wordlessly, keanu set her down and with the blink of an eye she was turned around and mushed up against the frigid glass wall. he reached around her middle, pulled her hips back, and made her arch her back. with his knee, he pushed her wobbly legs wide open and with a sharp thrust he filled her hole up again. "keanu!“ she yelled out, pressing her palms against the glass for support but it was useless. he immediately started off with a quick pace, hands placed on her hips.

the new angle allowed his tip to brush exactly into that one spot that made her knees go weak and eyes turn to the back of her scull. the cool sensation of the glass wall on her hardened nipples only added fuel to her receiving pleasure.

"my little slut. taking me so well.“ he murmured against her ear, his dick plunging into her in an animalistic speed and harshness.

too lost in the moment, y/n didn’t even notice when keanu sneaked a hand around her middle again and began to rub circles on her swollen clit, eliciting a loud and powerful whine that echoed in the room.

with the constant stimulation on her clit and g-spot, y/n felt her orgasm slowly building up and her legs began to tremble, almost giving out.

keanu seemed to notice this and wrapped his other hand around her upper body, supporting her in the best way possible. hearing her sweet moans and cry’s sent waves of pleasure through his whole body, getting closer and closer to his release as well. his eyes fell closed and his head leaned back, enjoying the feeling of her warm, velvety walls wrapped around him so perfectly.

the speed of his fingers increased and y/n‘s moans began to get louder and louder, almost reaching her peak.

"im gonna cum, daddy!“

with an answering groan, keanu pounded into her deeper than before and sped up his moving hips to their maximum, his fingers pressing and circling her nub harsher.

"cum with me princess.“ he snarled as he finally let go, spurting all of his seed deep inside of her. his orgasm triggered y/n‘s own and with a pornographic moan she stumbled over the edge, coming hard around him. keanu fucked her through their orgasms, letting them ride it out.

"oh god, keanu!“ she yelled out at the intense fire burning inside of her as she pressed her cheek against the wall.

his movements slowed down and after a few thrusts his hips came to an halt. y/n gasped out, breathing heavily. keanu now wrapped both of his arms around her body lovingly, pressing his chest to her back.

"you did so good for me y/n.“ he whispered, voice soft, placing a small kiss to her temple.

carefully, keanu pulled out of her hole, eliciting a groan from both of them, and turned her around.

"i‘m sorry y/n. i shouldn’t have treated you like this. i- just- i hope you forgive me.“ the man mumbled, pressing his forehead against hers. she wrapped her arms around his torso, enjoying the warmth of his body.

"of course i forgive you. i‘m so relieved that we finally talked about all this, that you finally understand how i feel.“ she replied with a softness in her tone.

how could she ever be mad at him. he’s her whole world.

keanu smiled at her words and captured her face, pulling her into an passionate kiss. but the kiss showed off all of his emotions - love, happiness, sorrow, tenderness. y/n returned the kiss with equal fever, pulling him closer.

"i love you doll.“ he whispered against her lips.

"i love you too.“ she smiled before clashing her lips once again onto his.

[greenmanalishi]

*CHAPTER 4 SPOILER*

[theverystrangegirl27]

˚‧꒰ა♡໒꒱‧˚ Love Me ˚‧꒰ა♡໒꒱‧˚

summary: Bill and Ted find out no one has ever made you come before, and they aim to fix that

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral (f receiving)

“No one's ever made you come before?”

Ted asks, exasperated.

Mortified, you shake your head no.

“Bogus.” Bill declares, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment your innocent conversation about music had turned into a conversation about your lack of orgasms, but here you are, sitting in Bill and Ted's small apartment with an unopened Metallica album in your lap.

Ted's still looking at you in disbelief, eyebrows disappearing behind his shaggy dark hair and his lips parted.

“Like, never?”

Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous. You roll your eyes, setting the album back into its crate.

“I mean, it's not like I've never come before.” You huff, and that blue stain on the carpet is suddenly very interesting.

“Just, no one makes me come like me, y'know?” You shrug your shoulders, looking up through your lashes to find the two boys stuck staring at you.

There's a shift in the room, the atmosphere filled with this strange sexual tension that you're not used to having with these two.

Bill looks at Ted, Ted looks at Bill, and they both grin. Somethings been passed between the two of them, and you can't help but feel a little left out.

You frown, looking between the two of them.

“What?” You ask, a little self-conscious all of a sudden.

You feel too bare in your tank top, the urge to shrug your flannel back over your shoulders overwhelming.

Bill looks at you with a smile, white teeth on display, and a playful look in his eyes.

“Y/N, we've just had the most excellent idea.”

“Yeah,” Ted agrees, a twin smile on his own face.

You tilt your head, resting back on your hands.

“And your idea is…?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“We're gonna make you come!” Ted exclaims, over-eager as always.

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head.

“Huh?” You exclaim, flustered. Your cheeks get hot, and the air in the room feels way too warm.

“C'mon Y/N,” Bill starts leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.“You're like, a total babe! We wanna help.”

You feel a flutter of affection shoot through your heart at his words, and you take a moment to really look at Bill.

His legs are spread from where he's sitting on the couch, expression earnest as ever. Those pretty blue green eyes of his hold no hint of malice, no sign that this is all some elaborate prank.

You swallow, not sure how to respond.

“Uh, only if you're okay with it, though.” Ted adds, mistaking your expression for subtle rejection.

You blink a couple of times, biting your lip as you think on it. Would it really be so bad? Two of your closest friends learning your body, helping you come?

The idea sends a pleasant thrill up your spine, and you break into a shy smile.

“Okay,” you begin. “But I wanna do it on a proper bed, not in the living room.”

The boy's look incredibly pleased, sending each other wide smiles as they air guitar. You shake your head, impossibly endeared.

Once you've made your way to the bedroom- deciding on Bill's bed because it's the least cluttered- Ted puts on a tape, loud guitars and heavy drums filling the room.

You throw your flannel to the ground, left in jeans and your tank top. Leaning back on the bed, you flip your hair over one shoulder.

Bill, eyes wide and a dopey, sweet smile on his face, approaches you first.

“Just relax, babe. We'll take care of you.”

He leans forward, hand coming to cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss.

Your fingers grip the comforter beneath you as you lean into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut.

Bill spreads your legs so he can stand between them, one knee bent on the bed as he pushes you back against the mattress.

Kissing Bill is a lot sweeter than you imagined, his usual laid back, charming demeanor changing into something softer.

Out of the two, Ted's always been the romantic, but it seems that Bill has a side of himself he's never shown to you.

How lucky, you think, that he's giving that to you now.

Moved by your own analysis, you move a hand to the back of his head to pull him back with you, his body pressing you gently into the sheets. You tangle your fingers in his curls, licking into his mouth with a muffled sigh.

His hand slips to your waist, fingers splayed across your midriff underneath the tank top.

“Woah,” you hear Ted breathe from where he stands at the foot of the bed.

Bill and you break for air, just looking at one another for a moment before you glance over his shoulder at Ted.

“C’mere, Ted.” You call to him softly, stroking at the nape of Bill's neck as he kisses at your collarbones.

It's so easy with these two - you feel yourself getting wet as Bill pushes your tank top up and over your breasts, lips trailing down the soft skin there.

Usually, you're never this worked up so early, but something about these boys drives you crazy.

Ted moves to your side, leaning over you to kiss you. He's a little clumsy with it, sweet in a way that makes your heart flip around in your chest. You smile as you pull away, looking into his dark, lust blown eyes before leaning back in.

Bill makes a soft noise from below, having exposed you nipples to the cool air of their bedroom.

“You've got like, the best tits babe.” Bill says, making you laugh a little as Ted settles in beside you.

“Totally,” Ted agrees, one hand coming down to toy with your right nipple.

You sigh, watching the both of them as Bill kisses down your chest, hands unzipping your jeans and getting a hand down the front of them.

“You know what would be sick?” Ted says, voice a little rough. “If you got ‘em pierced.”

Bill, momentarily distracted by Ted's comment, looks up with a wide grin.

“Dude, that's an excellent idea!” He exclaims, and you squirm a little to get their attention back on you, sitting up a little to shrug your tank top off fully.

“Bill, baby,” you intone sweetly, batting your eyes. “Could you help me with my jeans please?”

Bill goes kind of soft, eyes molten with lust as he swallows.

“Fuck, sure thing babe.”

What follows next is the quick zip of your fly, and you lift your hips as he drags them down your legs.

You sigh, head rolling onto Ted's shoulder when Bill presses soft, sweet kisses to your panties. His lips are warm over the fabric, and your breath hitches as he hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down.

“Bill's really good at giving head,” Ted says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It's his favorite.”

“Yeah?” You breathe, eyes wide as Bill looks up at you through his lashes, lips pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“Oh yeah,” Ted says. He's holding you close, fingers toying with one nipple. “You're gonna love it.”

You scoff, face flushed with anticipation.

“We'll see.”

Bill, taking this as a challenge, smiles against your skin. He gets both hands under your hips, pulling your pussy to his mouth in one fell swoop.

You yelp as your lower body shifts and your head lands in Ted's lap.

Dark, lust blown eyes blink down at you, Ted's hair falling into his eyes a little as he smiles.

You bend your neck to look at Bill, ready to chastise him, but all that comes out of your open mouth is a gasp as Bill's tongue swipes over your clit.

He's so gentle with it, lips soft and firm, where they press against your heated flesh. Two blunt fingertips trace your entrance, gathering the wetness there and only just dipping inside.

You find yourself curling your fingers into Ted's jeans, hips twitching a little as Bill suckles a little on your clit.

Most guys you've been with hardly know what the clit is, let alone know where it is.

Bill, on the other hand, looks entirely focused on giving you the best head of your life, brow furrowed as he mouths at your cunt sweetly.

Ted leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Told you he's good.”

You can't respond, lost in the way Bill's fingers move within you. He curls them up, hitting something inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You move to grip his curls with one hand to ground yourself, tilting your head back.

Bill hums against your cunt, content to stay down there forever, and you wouldn't complain if he did.

Ted's playing with your hair, peppering light kisses across your forehead. You can feel how hard he is beneath you, and you open your eyes to look at him.

He's looking at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the only thing he wants to see for the rest of your life.

It makes your heart swell and your pussy throb, arching your back a little when Bill curls his fingers up.

He groans against your pussy, low and aroused at the very taste of you. You can't believe this- no man has ever made you feel this good.

“Fuck,” You whimper, Bill's slow and steady pace picking up a quick, pulsing rhythm that leaves your thighs shaking.

“I'm gonna come” you breathe, disbelief lacing your tone as you stare up at Ted with big, watery eyes.

He strokes your hair, fingers trailing down the side of your face.

“Yeah, babe?” Ted asks sweetly, tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “Fuck, I bet you're even prettier when you cum.”

You can't focus, your mouth falling open, back arching, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets.

“Bill, Bill, oh my god-” Is all you're able to get out as your thighs clench around his ears, your pussy pulsing as you come on his fingers and tongue.

You're shaking, eyes closed tight as Ted presses a kiss to your forehead, sweet nothings tumbling out of his mouth.

Bill fingers you through it, kissing the inside of your thigh as those pretty blue eyes look up at you, a self-satisfied smirk settling across his lips.

When you finally open your eyes, Bill's leaning over you, a hand coming to cup your chin.

“Was that good, babe?” He asks, searching your face.

You're still panting a little, and you can't help yourself as you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

Tasting yourself on his lips is hotter than you expected.

You break for air, sitting up and in Ted's lap, whose hard as fuxk in his jeans.

You lick your lips, looking between your boys.

“I'm gonna make both of you come so hard.” You say, a mischievous grin on your face.

Bill and Ted look at each other, then back to you.

“Excellent!”

[feinv]

black beauty. john wick x fem!reader. smut. fluff. unprotected sex on a couch (it’s big and comfortable). missionary. praise, oh god. established rp. john the loving husband. 1.5 words

summary. john comes home to you after a long day, only to find out you missed him just as much as he missed you ;)

a/n. first ever full fic lesgooo. feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! 💌

the moonlight shone through the panel glasses of the house you and john now shared together. for john, this house was nothing but a concrete construction — lifeless, dull, and lonely. just a place where he could eat, shower, and sometimes sleep, if he could return before sunrise. ever since you came into his life, the house was now home to him, a comfort place where his lover awaited him with open arms and a heart full of lust and desire.

you were on the couch, tucked tightly under the blankets. you must have fallen asleep while waiting for john again: a constant occurrence. but you didn't mind, not at all. how could you? he was the best man out there, your favorite person in the whole word, so devoted to you. you would wait an eternity for him if it meant you would be together in the end.

the sound of an approaching car accompanied by a lock turn woke you up. you rubbed your eyes slightly, hoping to get some sense of time and place after the nap before a mild panic seized through your body, but quickly vanished when you realized it could only be john. no one in their right or even wrong mind would dare to break into the infamous baba yaga’s house.

john sighs heavily as he closes the door behind him, being relieved that he has finally made it home to you. he took in his surroundings, the moonlight casting pale and ghastly shades — the only light in the living room. his eyes then locked on your sleepy figure covered in blankets — the only light in his life.

“oh, sweetheart…” his tired and hoarse voice echoed as he approached you slowly, stopping in front of the couch, looking down at you. “you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

“can’t sleep without you,” you turn your head up, looking at him with your doe eyes before moving your hands up to reach his neck. he cranes his body down to hug you, hands wrapping around your waist and lifting you up. he turns both of you around before sitting down on the coach with you straddling his lap.

his hands still resting on your lower back, he casts a glance at your face, the lamp illuminating your beautiful features. his look is so gentle and loving instead of his usual cold exterior - one he always carries around others, but never with you.

“i missed you,” he whispers in the dark, one of his hands brushing the hair out of your face. you smiled softly before his lips crushed into yours, kissing you so tenderly, so gently, as if he was afraid you would break. you return the kiss while your hands find the end of his soft raven hair to play with.

“missed you too…so much,” you say in between. there is a soft groan at the back of his throat as he deepens the kiss, sliding his hands under your shirt, his calloused fingers sending shivers down your spine. as your lips move in unison, john becomes more passionate, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, earning a soft moan from you, and pulling you closer to him.

you break the kiss only to catch your breath when his lips start kissing your jawline. you move you head back, giving him more access to your neck where he is leaving red bite marks and bruises. john moves his hands from your waist, pulling your shirt off, cursing to himself when he realizes you weren’t wearing a bra. you got off him for a second to quickly get rid of your shorts, only panties covering your body now. your cheeks flush due to bareness of your body, all exposed to him, in contrast to his full suit.

right when you were about to sit back in his lap, he flipped you onto the couch, towering over you. john takes a moment to admire you, lips reaching to your collarbone and planting a kiss there. he continues to plant soft kisses all over your body, hands roaming just about everywhere.

“so goddamn beautiful,” he whispers between the kisses, his beard tickling your soft skin, making sure to worship every inch of your body — like he always does. he always told you you were a goddess. and he would worship you like one. you let out several moans under his touch, unable to control your voice, eyes sparkling at the thought of what you were about to do.

john tugs the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding it down your legs, moments before it joins the pile of clothes long forgotten on the floor. he kisses your lips again, more urgently this time, more messier, hungrier.

“look at you…so perfect, so flawless,” he murmured, his eyes shamelessly roaming all over your nude body, your every curve — so vulnerable and trusting for him.

you move your hands to his trousers, clumsy fingers unbuckling his belt, letting them fall loose, visible bulge through his underwear making your stomach squirm with excitement. you quickly tug his underwear down, letting his dick sprang free, tip glistering with pre-cum. you didn’t have the time to undress the rest of him when john did it himself, watching as you occupy yourself by gliding your fingers down to your folds.

what a sight to behold, he thought to himself.

what he didn’t know is that you were thinking the exact same thing looking up at his body. all six feet of him completely naked for you, his toned muscles and bulky arms, scars and decades old wounds making your head dizzy.

you loved every inch of him. he was perfect to you, although he would never admit that to himself.

“no, darling. let me make you feel good,” john took your hands and pinned them behind your head with his one hand. his other hand slowly replacing yours and moving to your folds, fingers lazily drawing circles on your clit, his head now buried in the valley between your nude breasts, kissing and sucking your soft skin.

“john…”you moan at the sensation, falling your head back on the couch. he looks up at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. he sets your pinned hands free when he shifts back a little, aligning himself in front of your entrance. his one hand was now readjusted on your thigh, gently holding it while his other hand held yours. he always did that when you were making love. it was a silent gesture, a sign of affection — love, lust, trust.

you both grunted when he slowly entered you, inch by inch, careful not to hurt you as you took a minute to stretch and get used to his sheer size. once you gave him a little nod, john started thrusting into you, in and out, keeping a steady pace. you wrapped your legs around his torso, allowing him a deeper access.

as his thrusts become more violent and urging, a groan escapes his lips as he watches him disappearing in and out if you, taking the scenery in front of him. your mouth slightly open, your hooded eyes struggling to focus, your desperate moans filling the room, breasts bouncing with each thrust. this sight alone could send him over the edge.

john hits your sensitive spot every single time, having memorized exactly how your body works, making you produce all kinds of sounds. you grip the couch, the soft material clenching under your fingers as your eyes start to water at how good he’s fucking you.

“don’t-” you fail to form a sentence, which instead came out as a whimper, as your pleasure was nearing you, making your mind clouded and brain all fogged.

“what was that, sweetheart? couldn’t hear you,” john replied to your plea, simultaneously moving closer to you.

“i- fuck!” you mewled when he took your one breast into his mouth while his hand was toying with your clit. he licked your nipple, gently sucking and swirling on it with his skilled tongue, before moving to give the same attention to you other breast. you were now fucked into oblivion, almost unconscious, goosebumps seizing your whole body, eyes rolling back as he kept pleasuring you in different ways.

he was delighted to know he was making you feel those things, and he would tease you about it. he slowed down his movements, not giving you the satisfaction you needed yet. “use your words, darling.”

you sigh frustrated, needing him to move faster. “please…i need you, john. need you so bad, please.”

what could he do if not comply?

he continued his voluptuous rhythm, your previous pleasure building up again. you move your hand to his back for additional support, leaving red scratch marks all over, earning a groan from him.

“there you go. doing so good for me, angel,” he was dangerously close too, nearly unable to hold himself, but for him, your pleasure was a priority.

with few final thrusts, you scream out his name so loud — almost pornographically — as the waves of orgasm wash over you, vibrating through your whole body. john follows, not far behind. with a particular loud groan he spills his release inside of you, head falling back with a few strands of hair stuck on his forehead.

after you both ride out your highs, john moves both of you so you find yourself straddling him again. he tugs you closer to him with his arms draped around your body, drawing small soothing circles on your back. your arms crossed behind his neck, you let your head fall on his chest, buried in the crook of his neck while his cock was still buried in you.

you both stay in that position for a minute longer, silently indulging in each other's embrace before exchanging i love yous and slow kisses, moonlight shining over your sore figures.

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Chapter four)

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

Word Count | 2.6k (maybe..)

A/N | Hey guys, I’ve been really busy lately. I was trying to focus and write a good chapter, but I think this one turned out terrible 😭 idk, I just feel that way😭

Previous chapter!

As the cold rain fell, John couldn’t shake Mia’s touch from his mind. It was gentle, like a distant memory of something he had forgotten or perhaps something he had never meant to have. Her softness didn’t belong to the world he inhabited, a world stained by blood and darkness. But somehow, she had breached his defenses, breaking down the walls he always kept up.

He stopped next to his car, his eyes fixed on the bookstore. A small place, almost insignificant at first glance, yet it had a massive impact on his life in recent days. Every time he thought of Mia, he felt something dangerous awaken inside him. A longing for something he had locked away long ago—a chance at normalcy, at peace.

Mia was different.

She wasn’t part of the brutal world he knew. Her kindness, the way she smiled with an almost innocent gentleness, the way she offered coffee every day... it all stood in painful contrast to who he was. The man didn’t understand why she could be so kind to him. It left him confused, but it was something so intriguing that he wanted more. He knew he should stay away. But he couldn’t.

The coffees offered with nothing in return intrigued him even more, and he wanted to talk to her, to try to understand if she was pretending or if she really was that sweet. Did Mia know anything about the world he inhabited? Perhaps she had avoided him, or was she truly immune to the darkness surrounding him?

Sighing, John took one last look at the bookstore, his hand hesitating on the car door handle. He felt a dangerous urgency inside him, a battle between what he knew he should do—stay away, keep her safe and out of his life—and what he wanted to do. He wanted to understand. He wanted to know why Mia treated him with a kindness he didn’t deserve.

With one last sigh, he got into the car, his mind still caught up in her touch, in the softness that didn’t match his world but, somehow, he couldn’t leave behind.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

The next day, John woke with the weight of restlessness still on his shoulders. The echo of Mia’s soft voice seemed to linger in every corner of his mind, even as he dressed and prepared to face another day at work. He should have been focused, as always, but the distraction was constant. Mia. Who was she? Was the image he had built of her wrong? Was there something hidden beneath that unassuming kindness? Curiosity grew with each passing hour, eroding the logic and control he always maintained.

After finishing his commitments, with the late afternoon light tinging the sky a faded orange, John decided to return to the bookstore. He had no plans to enter. He just wanted to observe. Perhaps from a distance, he could see beyond that mask of innocence she wore—if it was indeed a mask. Maybe Mia wasn’t as pure as she seemed.

He parked a few meters away on a narrow, dimly lit street, where the streetlights barely touched the wet ground from the rain still draining into the gutters. He sat there, hands firmly resting on the steering wheel, as his eyes fixed on the bookstore ahead. Inside, Mia moved with the same carefree grace as always, arranging books with almost ritualistic care. The soft lighting of the shop created a warm aura around her, as if time inside that place moved at a different pace than the rest of the world.

John squinted, trying to catch any movement that suggested something out of the ordinary, any hint that she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. But there was nothing. She just went about her work with the same serenity as ever, as if the world outside those doors was merely a spectator to the private universe she had created inside.

The rain continued to fall gently, its drops forming small rivers on the bookstore windows. Every movement Mia made was calm, her gestures calculated and simple, yet devoid of coldness. She didn’t seem to carry the tension that John felt within himself, as if she were oblivious to the shadows that hovered around his life. It unsettled him.

After a while, Mia stepped out of the bookstore, balancing some bags in her arms. John instinctively followed her from a distance, his heavy boots making almost no sound against the soaked ground. She walked lightly, her hair still slightly damp from the previous drizzle, gently swaying over her shoulders. He watched her turn the corner, entering a cozy café, the place illuminated by warm lights that contrasted with the cold dampness of the street.

Outside, John remained in the shadows, watching her. She greeted the barista with a genuine smile, calling him by name. She sat at a table near the window, where the fogged glass reflected the city lights. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the door every time someone entered or exited, and John felt it, mingled with the chill of the night.

He watched her sip her coffee, each of her movements so natural that it made him even more uncomfortable. There were no secrets, no ulterior motives. Just Mia, living her simple life like an ordinary person. The more he watched her, the more he noticed the discrepancy between her and the world he knew. She was a woman immersed in simple routines, unburdened by malice or suspicion, and it left him disturbed. How could someone like her exist?

The discomfort grew within him. He felt like an intruder, a shadow lurking around something he shouldn’t. The tension in his shoulders tightened, but still, he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t in his nature to follow someone like this, but Mia intrigued him in a way he didn’t understand.

When Mia finally stood up, ready to leave the café, it was at that exact moment that her eyes, for a brief instant, met his. John’s stomach twisted. He had let himself get too close.

Mia hesitated for a second, but to his surprise, she smiled. Not a forced or curious smile, but the same warm and kind smile as always. That smile disarmed John completely.

“Mr. Wick?” she called, her voice tinged with soft surprise, yet filled with familiar warmth.

His chest tightened with embarrassment. He had been caught. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to say. “Hi,” he replied, his voice hoarse, struggling to maintain his composure. He knew there were no excuses for what he was doing, and the discomfort burned within him. It was as if he were a shadow disturbing the tranquil balance of her life.

“What a coincidence! Are you okay?” Mia asked, genuinely concerned, stepping closer without hesitation. Her face showed no distrust, only a sincere curiosity about him, as if he were just a customer she knew.

John stood frozen, immobilized by her transparent gaze. “Yeah... I was just around,” he said, the barely disguised lie in his voice. He was trapped by his own impulse, unsure how to escape the situation. The weight of his decision to follow Mia left him restless, as if he were invading a space that didn’t belong to him.

Her smile, however, remained. A gentle smile that echoed her touch from the day before. “I was going back to the bookstore,” she said casually. “If you want, you can join me.”

John, still confused and unsettled by the simplicity of the invitation and the embarrassment burning within him, nodded slowly, unable to refuse. As they walked together through the wet streets, the sound of their footsteps echoed between the buildings, and the air was heavy with a cold humidity, but Mia’s presence seemed to soften the weight of the atmosphere. She walked calmly beside him, with no questions, no demands.

He, on the other hand, felt an internal battle. Mia was exactly who she seemed to be: simple, kind, and without malice. The perception of her authenticity made him even more uncomfortable. And as they walked together, John realized that deep down, the true mystery wasn’t her. It was him. And how he didn’t deserve the peace she offered with each smile.

The walk to the bookstore felt like an eternity, but it was also a moment of silent discovery. The rain had diminished to a light drizzle, and the streets were wet, reflecting the city lights like fragmented mirrors. John walked beside Mia, his heart beating irregularly. He tried to ignore the strange feeling of being in a place that wasn’t his, but at the same time, he found himself wishing that this moment wouldn’t end.

Mia talked about her day, her enthusiasm contagious, while her damp hair swayed gently in the breeze. “Today, I got a new shipment of books! There’s a poetry collection I’m excited to organize,” she said, her eyes shining. Each of her words was like an invitation into a world he barely knew—a world of hope, simplicity, and beauty that seemed distant from the reality he inhabited.

“Poetry?” John asked, keeping his voice neutral, even though curiosity prodded at him. He had never been very interested in books of that kind. To him, words were weapons, not a refuge. But seeing the sparkle in Mia’s eyes, he allowed himself a slight smile. “It’s not my type of reading.”

She laughed, a musical sound that made his chest tighten. “Oh, you don’t know what you’re missing! Poetry can be so powerful. It captures moments in a way that prose often can’t.”

John watched her, a mix of admiration and confusion washing over him. How could someone so full of light exist in such a dark world? And why did she seem so comfortable by his side, someone who represented everything she probably avoided?

When they finally arrived at the bookstore, Mia opened the door and waved for him to enter first. He hesitated at the entrance, remembering his life outside that bubble of tranquility, where violence and distrust were constant.

“Come in!” Mia said, gently pushing his shoulder. John felt her warmth, a touch so subtle that it sent a wave of electricity through him. He stepped inside, trying to remember how to act normally in a place like this.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Mia began talking about her plans for the new poetry collection, but John was distracted, watching her. The way she spoke with passion, her hands gesturing as she described the book covers and the stories they contained. It was as if she was sharing a piece of her soul with him, something he wasn't used to receiving.

“You really love this, don’t you?” John commented, his voice softer than he intended. The sincerity in her expression was contagious, and he began to wonder what it would be like if his life were like that.

Mia stopped and looked at him with unexpected seriousness. “Yes, I love it. It’s my refuge. For me, books are like friends. They’re always here, welcoming me when I need it.” She stepped closer, her eyes locked onto his as if she wanted to see beyond the surface. “And you? What makes you feel comfortable?”

He wanted to lie. He wanted to say that everything was fine, that he had control. But there was something in the way she looked at him that made him hesitate. “I… I don’t know,” he finally replied, the honesty weighing on him. “I guess I’ve never had a place like that.”

Mia smiled, a genuine smile that seemed to light up the surrounding atmosphere. “Well, then you’re always welcome here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

He felt a lump form in his throat, his jaw tightening. Her innocence affected him in ways he wasn’t prepared to handle. How could she be like this? How did she not realize how much he could drag her into the abyss?

“I can’t promise I’ll always be good company,” he said, almost as a warning, trying not to get swept away by the wave of emotions her presence was provoking.

“Everyone has their dark side,” Mia replied, her gaze unwavering. “I believe the important thing is what we do with it.”

John felt the urge to laugh, but he couldn’t. He was used to hiding his darkness, using it as armor. The idea of sharing it, even with someone so welcoming, was a daunting concept. “Maybe you’re right.”

As they talked, something in the atmosphere changed. The phone in the bookstore rang, breaking the moment of connection. Mia turned, and John saw the tension rise in her shoulders. She picked up the phone, and her expression shifted. “Hi, Fletcher’s Bookstore. How can I help?” Mia's voice, once warm, was now tinged with concern. John watched her, realizing that the weight of work and responsibilities was also present in her life.

After a few minutes, she hung up, a thoughtful look on her face. “Sorry, that was a customer. It seems some books were delivered incorrectly. I’ll need to sort this out,” she said, turning back to him with a faint smile that couldn’t hide her worry. “Do you mind waiting a bit?”

“no, it's okay,” John replied, even though his mind was conflicted. He wanted to stay. He wanted to know more about this woman who seemed like a breath of fresh air in his dark life. But at the same time, the weight of reality followed him like a shadow, and he knew he should pull away.

As Mia moved away to handle the issue, John leaned against a bookshelf, lost in thought. He looked around, observing the titles of the books, but his mind was still focused on her. Deep down, he knew her life was a bubble of safety — a place he shouldn’t invade. But the closer he got to her, the more he wondered if he could be part of something that wasn’t just a shadow.

But as the phone rang and reality seeped into the tranquility of the bookstore, John realized that the truth still haunted him. He couldn’t just enter Mia’s world. There were dangers she didn’t know about, and deep down, he feared she would end up paying the price for his curiosity.

As Mia moved away, John allowed himself a moment of reflection. He looked out the bookstore window, where the rain had now turned into a fine mist. The streets were calm, and the city lights shone softly, creating an almost magical scene. But amid that beauty, reality pulled him back.

He thought of Mia’s words about the dark side everyone possessed. Those words poked at him in a way he hadn’t expected. In his world, darkness wasn’t just a part of him — it was his only companion. And as he watched Mia move among the books, her presence was a constant reminder of everything he might never have.

Suddenly, the sound of a car revving cut through the air. John turned his head, and his sharpened instincts immediately sensed something was wrong. A dark vehicle stopped abruptly in front of the bookstore, and strange figures got out, laughing in a way that sent chills down his spine. He recognized the tension in his stomach, the alert his mind had learned to identify — an unwanted presence.

“John?” Mia’s voice brought him back to the moment, and he saw her approaching. There was a glimmer of worry in her eyes, and he knew her innocence could make her a target. He couldn’t leave her vulnerable, not after everything.

“You should stay here,” he said, taking a step forward. He felt the protection he could offer her slipping away, and the need to act quickly grew. “Wait a moment.”

“Why? What’s happening?” Mia questioned, but John didn’t have time to explain.

He looked through the window again and noticed the figures moving closer. He couldn’t allow them to get near her. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for her response, he strode toward the bookstore door, his instincts on high alert. He knew getting involved could complicate things, but he couldn’t ignore the situation unfolding outside.

He had no idea what was about to happen, but he was determined to keep the chaos from spilling into her world.

Next chapter!

[ruskaroma]

First time with John Wick plssssssssssssssssssss

I truly think that the first time with John would be loving yet rough. I’m sorry, but that’s just how I paint him out to be.

He’s a killer, so it’s no surprise that his hands are naturally heavy and rough. He would touch your body with those large, dangerous hands, forever tainting it with his cruelty and brutality, making you submit yourself to his mercy.

For a man with few words, John sure does have his ways to make you shake and crumble under his touch while he says the most filthy, diabolical shit that could make even the devil blush. For some reason, he just finds you so beautiful wrecked and fucked that he can’t keep his words to himself.

The first time the two of you had sex, it was because he was jealous. You knew he was jealous but he didn’t admit that he was, and that was enough answer for you to get fucked as soon as the two of you arrived at your apartment.

It was a miracle that you managed to make him come with you to a company party even though all he did all night was stand beside you like he’s your bodyguard. Well, in a sense, he was your bodyguard, but his particular outfit that night got your co-workers wondering how the hell you were able to afford one.

John had kept his hand on the small of your back the majority of the night, like that was enough to show everybody that he was not only your bodyguard but also your very loving boyfriend who tolerated everyone in that room just for you.

But when he left to go to the bathroom and came back to a sight of another man being too friendly to you, John only realized that the whole “hand on the back” wasn’t enough to shoo those motherfuckers away.

John settled himself beside you again, but this time, he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his warmth, pretending like the other man beside you wasn’t there, because John could really not bother to care.

“Have I left you for too long?” 

“What?” You furrowed your brows, confused.

John didn’t answer after that, but he did glance at the man who was already staring at him and his actions the moment he arrived. He also didn’t introduce himself, the man simply didn’t deserve it.

“Uh, is he your boyfriend?” The man interjected, and you felt John’s fingers twitch gripping your waist.

“Oh–uh, yeah, he is,” you replied sheepishly, then turning your head to smile tightly at John who was just raising a brow at you. “You probably thought he was my bodyguard, eh? Everyone’s been saying that the moment we arrived.”

��Yeah, I thought that, too,” he laughed awkwardly.

The conversation soon died out. Maybe it had something to do with the man just feeling really awkward because he truly didn’t know John was your boyfriend, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that John had been staring at him dead in the eyes threateningly while you weren’t looking.

When the two of you were on your way home, John had been dead silent with his hand on your thigh the only thing indicating that he’s not as mad as he made himself out to be and he was just really jealous. You know a jealous man when you see one, you just didn’t think you’d see John being jealous first hand.

“Come on, babe, you really not going to speak?” You whined from your seat, grabbing his rough hand to your softer ones as you placed a kiss on the back of it. When you didn’t get a reaction, you pouted childishly. “Jooohhnnnn. Babeeeeee. Babyyyyy.”

John still didn’t react. He kept his eyes on the road.

“You’re for real ignoring me because you’re jealous? Really, John? Bit childish, isn’t it?”

Then, his eyes narrowed as he ripped his focus on the road and onto yours. “I’m not jealous.”

“So that gets you talking?”

“Because I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, sure.” You nodded your head like you’re convinced, and you saw John turned his attention back on the road again. You took this opportunity to continue poking at him. “I mean, it was kinda your fault that he assumed I was single.”

John hit the brakes too hard than usual at the red light, and that was enough to prove your theory that he was, in fact, jealous.

He looked at you offended, and it was kinda hard to believe that you were getting to see that expression on his face first hand considering he rarely ever shows any emotions.

“You know I’m not very big on PDA,” he grumbled under his breath. “I thought my hand on your back was enough. Clearly he didn’t get the memo.”

“So you are jealous?”

Again, he didn’t respond. For a very dangerous well known assassin, John was sure as hell a bit childish when it came to you, but you liked that about him. That only meant he trusted you enough to feel vulnerable around you, show you a side of him he never showed to any one else.

John parked his car in the parking lot and the two of you walked in comfortable silence. You had your arm tangled with his, walking side by side until you reached the elevator. It was only then you had felt the touch of his hand on your ass.

“Well, well, well… Is John Wick finally making the first move?”

Maybe teasing him was a bad idea, because your smirk was immediately wiped off when you’re thrown against the wall and creating a loud bang.

“John, holy shit, I don’t wanna pay for the damage–”

“Shut up,” he growled under his breath, ducking his face down and inhaling your scent, opening his mouth to suck the skin, his sharp teeth bruising your neck that you yelped and wrapped your arms around his broad back. 

“J–John, please don’t fuck me here–I wanna get fu–fucked on a real bed for our first time–”

Before he could even answer, the elevator’s door opened and he hauled himself off you in a matter of seconds. An old woman walked in, not bothering to look at the two of you as she pressed on the button to go up. You’re one floor above, you and John were just sharing side glances the entire ride.

When you reached your floor, John was the one to grip your wrist and pull you out of the elevator, already getting your keys in his suit pocket while you trip and giggle following behind him.

“I’m so excited–”

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Are you kidding? I’m about to get fucked by my boyfriend for the first time in our relationship, of course I’m excited.”

Once John opened the door, he pushed you inside in no time and slammed it behind him. “Who said anything about fucking you?”

“What?” You pouted, growing confused. 

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you don’t deserve my cock?”

And instantly, you flushed at the words that came out of his mouth that you couldn’t reply anything other than a gasp when he launched himself forward and pressed his lips to you. His beard tickled your chin as his hands went behind your thighs, lifting you off the floor and wrapped your legs around his body.

“I was holding myself back for so long, I was doing so well, I was waiting for the moment to fuck you in a bed of roses like you deserve, but that guy just had to come in and ruin all my self control,” John said against your mouth, pressing his hard cock in his pants against your already wet cunt as he slammed you against the wall.

“I d–don’t want a bed of roses anyways,” you breathed, moaning at the feeling of his hot, throbbing crotch against your own, wanting nothing but to just pull it out and shove it inside you and ride him all night long, but it seemed like John had another idea of how the night would go. “Please, John, just–just fuck me, come on, I know you want to–”

“I don’t like how that guy was looking at you earlier. Like you were some piece of meat,” he nipped at your neck, you felt another wave of wetness drip out of you just from his voice. “Just want to mark you up, bruise your neck and body just so everyone would know you’re fucking mine–”

“Oh god–”

And that’s how you found yourself with legs spread on the bed with John between them. His right hand was around your throat, his other was gripping your hair hard, and his cock was pounding in and out of you like there was no tomorrow.

He’s so fucking big – so huge, so large, Jesus Christ – and you swore you were squealing like a pig. Your cunt was so sloppy and wet, the sound of your wetness squelching around John’s cock was making you so dizzy and lightheaded, not to mention when he was tightening the hand around your throat every few seconds, you were keening and moaning like a whore as you rambled all your dirty thoughts.

“Oh god–oh god, John, please–please, you feel s–so good–” you moaned, nails digging at his back as the bedpost slammed against the wall with each thrust. “Wanted–wanted this for s–so long. So big and huge and–fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” John commented, letting his eyes wander between your bodies as he watched his thick cock plummeling inside your tight little cunt, clit puffy and sore from him sloppily eating you out earlier and he couldn’t be any more proud. You were so sensitive and reactive, every touch delivered a noise out of you. “Cum on my cock, princess. Make a mess all over my dick and I’ll fill you up so deep you’ll feel me until the next week.”

That was the line that threw you over the edge. Head thrown back and screaming, you held onto his back as you came around his cock, knowing the night was only just beginning.

[rosevette]

·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.

1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑

୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose

DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.

At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.

"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.

His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.

Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.

"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.

“I said no.”

His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.

“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.

“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips.

Before you knew it, his body already pressed against yours firmly, his weight leaning you against the flat surface of the wall, secluded in your room.

“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”

As John pressed you against the decorative wallpaper, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.

With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.

"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."

But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.

“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.

With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.

It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.

“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”

Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.

With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.

The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.

“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.

“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.

Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.

Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.

He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.

John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.

He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.

“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.

Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?

With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.

Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.

Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.

"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”

"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.

Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?

The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”

Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.

“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.

Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.

As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.

“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”

The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”

the end ! part 3 in progress…

© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !

[6lostgirl6]

Yandere Alphabet - John Wick

TW: Yandere themes, obsessive behaviors, kidnapping mentions, murder mentions, Stockholm Syndrome, spankings as punishment, violence (He's a hitman), guns, hints of controlling hehavior.

A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Trust me, it would get very intense, he's a very passionate lover. He's not against giving you kisses, embraces, showering you in gifts, and taking pictures with you. He loves cuddling in bed with you, and he cannot sleep without you once you both fall into a ritual of falling asleep together.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

This man is a literal hitman. He's not afraid of getting messy for you if it meant protecting you. If people were after you because of your affiliation with him, he would hunt them down. The bodies he would bury would be to the point of unrecogizabilty. He returns home covered in both his and others' blood and you have to care for him.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

When you're first abducted, John would be understanding if you were scared around him and needed time to adapt to your situation and your new relationship with John. He would never mock you because he's a very mature yandere and understands what you're going through.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He will do anything against your will if it concerned your health and safety. He would refuse you from leaving the house without him. If you haven't eaten or take your medication when you were supposed to, he will make you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

John would literally pour his heart out to his darling, he wouldn't keep anything a secret from you. He's pretty much an open book, if you wanted to know something about him, he would tell you. He doesn't like secrets in the relationship.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Obviously, he wouldn't like having you fight against him. He wants you to feel happy, safe, and protected around him. You wouldn't be able to successfully fight him, he's a trained hitman after all. However, he would entertain you though, he finds it a little cute until he gets tired and just throws you over his shoulder.

"Okay, play time's over."

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is definitely not a game to him and he doesn't enjoy you trying to escape from him. He's a very mature yandere. However, if you were his darling when he was much younger, it would be the opposite. He would be thrilled with the chase.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with John wasn't something he even did directly to you, but rather someone else. The worst experience you've ever had living with John was when your home you shared was ambushed by people trying to kill him and taking you hostage. The instant switch from being a loving partner to a murderous killer was something you never thought you would see from John. The house was a literal bloodbath at the end of the night. You had nightmares for a week after that.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

John is not getting any younger. He would want to get married and maybe have a few kids with you, if that was something that you wanted. It's literally until death do you both part.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Can't be jealous if there's nobody around, wink. John knows his worth and he knows he is worthy of your love, he doesn't give a shit about lesser men that think they even have a sliver of a chance with you. It's because they don't and he can always just shoot them in the head if they cause a problem.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Mentioned previously, he would be a very passionate lover. He wants you to love him. He's very charming and knows how to sweep you off your feet, literally. You pull out the affectionate side of him where he just wants to spoil you in pure love and devotion.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

John is a confident man and quite the charmer. He would approach you and introduce himself, saying he wanted to get to know you more and if you were interested on going on a date. He would want to get to know you and have you fall for him naturally.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

John would be more reserved around others, it always seem like a business discussion when he interacts with others. Sure, he can be nice towards others but you're the only one that brings out his soft side.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

It depends on what you've done. John would take away some rights from you as a form of punishment if you broke a simple rule. He caught you with a knife in the kitchen, you're not allowed in it now. Starting arguments with him, he's going to distance himself from you until you calm down. After so much, he is not against smacking your ass with his hand or belt with you over his lap.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Again, your health and safety is his number one concern. Therefore, you're not allowed to do many things unless he's with you. For example, you cannot use the knives in the kitchen, touch his guns, go outside, or use the internet unless he's monitoring you or accompanying you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Oh, he's a very patient man for you, you deserve nothing less. However, there will only be so much he would take. After so many escape attempts and obedience from you, he will punish you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you successfully escape, John would not hesitate going after you and he will find you. You can never truly escape from Baba Yaga, ever. However, if you died, that's a completely different stroy. John wouldn't be able to continue living without you. After losing his wife, Helen, he was just a walking shell. Now that he lost you too, he's ready to kick the bucket.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

At times, John would feel a little guilty if you continued to feel scared around him after a significant amount of time. He doesn't like seeing you sad, he would think 'maybe there was another way I could have done this.' However, he wouldn't let you go. You're his now after all.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

The loss of his wife was the driving point for him. He always felt if he did more, was more prepared, he wouldn't have lost her. He's always been a protective man, now it increased tenfold. Now that you're in his life, he refuses to have that happen again. You are his light and reason for living.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

John would feel horrible that his darling is having a difficult time processing your relationship and living situation. However, John wouldn't allow you to isolate yourself and cry. He would offer comfort and try to make you feel better. Your happiness means so much to him.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

John would absolutely spoil you rotten. He has the means of getting you whatever you want because of his occupation. He's so devoted to you, literally name anything and it will become yours. Nothing you could ever want is absurd to him. If you simply wanted stickers, he's getting it.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

The weakness you can exploit in order to escape would be his sheer love for you and his willingness to do anything for you. If you needed him to get you something that would take a while, he would do it and it would give you time to get away.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

He wouldn't intentionally or directly hurt you. He cares about you too much but that doesn't mean he wouldn't hurt or even kill your friends or family. Best not to test him, darling.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

John would do anything and everything for you, no questions asked. Ask him to jump, he will ask how high. He's your ride or die. Furthermore, nothing is absurd in capturing your attention and winning you over, if he needs to kill a few people, he will.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

If John was able to properly grief the loss of his wife, he would be able to pine for you for around half a year, maybe a little more if things were going well between the two of you. However, if he was still unable to properly move on, he will take you much sooner. No, you are not a replacement for his wife.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

John is a very charming yandere, he doesn't need to hurt you in order for you to obey him. Eventually, you will naturally fall for him or develop stockholm syndrome.

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @britany1997

[foreveric]

"𝓘 𝓓𝓞."

pairing — john wick x f!reader content — 70% FLUFF 20% ANGST 5% SMUT words — 2,284 dividers — @saradika-graphics tagging — @feinv and @iovesia (srsly their blogs r what kept us inspired to finish this while sick, lol)

This is it.

The day hundreds of lives were ended so that John would be able to settle down in his life with you, the most precious thing that he’s ever had in his life. You’re like his rock that he’s never had growing up, and he wouldn’t dare risk allowing his bloody career to get in the way of the life that he could have with you. And now, everything that he had planned and gone through that day for this very ceremony was coming into fruition.

Today made it feel like everything he did that night was worth it: all of the lives he took, and the blood he had to so violently spill. Watching you walk down the aisle in the dream wedding dress he’d always imagined on you, kissing you slowly at the altar after you’ve shared your vows to seal your commitment after years of dating each other. 

Hearing the marching music begin to fade in, John’s gaze flickered up to meet your own, even if it was covered slightly by the mesh of the white veil you were wearing. Lifting the veil up, John would flash you a smile full of warmth and affection; the most emotional smile the man was ever able to muster in his entire life — you could just see it behind his eyes.

“Do you, Mr. Jardani Jovonovich, take Ms. (Y/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife…” The Officiant asked, his attention focusing on John as he stood at the altar, holding onto your hands.

A few months earlier, John was in a much different place mentally. Instead of getting prepared for his wedding with you, he was preparing for his final assassination, the “impossible task”, as Viggo called it. Of course, John was more than willing to perform such a task, if it meant getting to settle down with the love of his life.

“You did well, Jonathan.” Viggo commented to John with his hands held behind his back.

“Thanks,” John replied with a small nod of his head, silently expecting Viggo to add onto his statement.

“I suppose you still want to be released from our organization?”

“Yeah.” He answered firmly, yet he still tried to keep himself level-headed after the adrenaline rush of the mission.

“Well, I wish you and your lover the best life.” Viggo replied to John before turning his back to him, holding his hands behind his own back while he stared out the large window that was just placed just behind the desk. “Be seeing you, Mr. Wick.” He added in a colder voice than before. It was a tone that didn’t go unnoticed by John, but he didn’t care then. At least, not about this “family” he’d been stuck in since his childhood. No, now all that he cared about was the future he was about to lead with you.

In the shower at home, you were luckily not home that day, giving John the perfect chance to wash the blood away from his body. None of it was his blood, though. No, he was washing off the lives he’d ended a mere few hours ago. But, he was used to this feeling — he was used to killing, to seeing the red on his hands and chest after an exhausting mission. 

And now, John tried to make himself focus on the plans he had made for today many months ago — to propose to (y/n), and make you his officially. That ring he got a few weeks ago? It was going to be used for this special day. His heart leaped when he opened up the box to check on the ring, the diamond shimmering brightly in the sunlight that seeped in through the nearby glass windows of the mansion he was now sharing with you. A smile painted itself across John’s lips as a reaction to the thoughts he began to have flooding through his mind of the day that would soon be in his future.

Then, just as he’s lost in thought, John’s head whipped up to the sound of the doorbell ringing, announcing your presence at the front door. Quickly hiding the box away from view, underneath the bed, John sprinted out of the bedroom to greet you at the door. There’s a smile still present on his face as you open the door, immediately welcomed by him wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his embrace and kiss the top of your head.

“Hey, hon.” John greeted you, his voice more cheerful than it normally is.

“Hey…how was your day?” You ask, your voice sounding groggy from working long hours throughout the day.

Catching on to your exhaustion, John gave you a light nod of his head before taking his right hand and gently placing it on the back of your neck, his thumb resting on the side of your jawline. 

"I've been thinking about you," he says with a tone of sincerity laced through his voice while his deep brown eyes were locked onto your own.

"Yeah?" You reply with a hint of playfulness that John quickly caught onto, making him smirk down at you.

"Mm-hmm." John murmurs affirmatively right before leaning in to lock his lips onto yours; they always surprise you with how soft they are every time you feel them. After breaking the kiss, he brought his lips up to brush them against your ear, sending shivers down your entire back. "You go take a shower while I cook you some food, alright?" He offers, yet there was a silent hint that he wasn't going to budge on this.

"Okay." You agree, nodding your head lightly in response to the offer John had just made you.

Lying wounded on the cold ground of the warehouse in which Viggo's enemies operated in, John gasped for breath as he locked eyes with the sky, which was pouring down the same tears he nearly shed at the idea of not standing at the altar with you, not putting that ring on your finger, not marrying YOU. He couldn't bear himself if this is how it all ended. When he noticed he was unable to get up, however, you seemed to have a spiritual hold on him — or, maybe even...a connection? John began to hear his phone ring, prompting him to glance down and take a look until he saw that it was your contact displaying as the number that was calling. At first, John was hesitant to answer. Not because he didn't want to answer your call, it would be far from that. No. Instead, it would be because...he was terrified of what you'd think of him if you were to find out about the truth of his past and what he used to do for his life. But, something clicked inside of John for him to press the green button on the keypad of the cell phone, lifting it up to his ear to hear your voice speaking to him once again.

"Hey, babe. I got dinner ready a few hours ago and you didn't come home, are you okay?" You ask as the line connected, the concern evident in the tone of your voice.

"Long story..." John answered in his own weakened and strained voice. You could immediately discern that something was horrifically wrong.

"Where are you?"

Not a beat was skipped between either of you before you swung your purse over and around your shoulder, jingling your car keys in between the crooks of your fingers. John gives you the address to the warehouse he was in. Of course, the sketch location raised questions in your head, but you knew you couldn't probe him for answers now; not when he's in such a risky position.

"I'll be right there." You say as you swing the front door open and begin to rush out to the driveway until you reach the car that was left.

In a matter of no time, John would soon begin to hear the engine of your car rumbling in the near distance until it was parked a mere few yards away from his limp body. "Oh, John!" You exclaim in concern right before rushing over to where John was leaning against the warehouse wall, the adrenaline immediately beginning to course through your entire being.

"I'm alright, honey." John replied in a soft-toned voice that was only meant to comfort you through the distress he knew he must be putting you through.

"I'm going to get you in the car," you declare in a tone that leaves no room for him to argue with you. But, in that moment, it really seemed as though John had no thoughts of even attempting as such. Taking his arm over your shoulder, (y/n) used your strength to walk John back over to your car to the passenger side. Once he was seated, you quickly pulled the seatbelt over John’s chest and buckled him in right before shutting his side’s door and darting around the car until you were able to get into the driver’s side.

Back at home, you gave John the stitches he needed for the deep gunshot wounds he had when you first got to him. There was a surge of emotions flooding throughout your entire mind, mostly being that of fear and concern for John’s well-being. You couldn’t lose him, not when you still have the chance to save him. Shoving away the questions you may have wanted to ask him, you focus on the task at hand of saving his life.

After you took John’s black tuxedo and white dress-shirt off by sliding them up his arms and chest, revealing two gunshot wounds to his right shoulder and chest, eliciting a gasp out of you.

“Jesus Christ, John.”

“I know, I know…” he attempted to speak up while keeping his voice low and soft-spoken, but you were too panicked to even hear him as you prioritized making every last move count.

“This is the worst I’ve ever seen you.” You continue to mumble to yourself as you attempt to concentrate on the bloody wounds that were penetrated straight through John’s skin.

“(Y/N)—”

“Where the Hell even were you?” You question, quickly followed up by an exasperated sigh with your eyebrows furrowing deeply in frustration. The thought of someone hurting John made your blood boil into pure rage.

“(Y/N), relax.” He finally spoke up, this time at a much louder volume than before to ensure that he got your attention. John would then notice you flinch back slightly, prompting him to reassuringly reach both of his hands up to lightly yet firmly place them on the top of either of your shoulders, his thumb slowly rubbing the exposed skin underneath your crewneck top. “I promise, I’m okay.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” You sigh before reaching your hands back down towards the one gunshot wound you were giving stitches to. John appeared to hardly even flinch the entire time, only raising more questions in your head. But you knew that now was not the time to probe for anything. After you have finished stitching up John’s wounds, you exhale out a deep sigh and rub your forehead with the back of your hand. He could see how exhausted you were after a long day, making him reach his hands out to hold onto your shoulders. Your eyes lock onto each other’s.

“Thank you,” John said. A soft smile curls up across the corners of his lips and he trails one of his hands up from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, prompting you to lean in closer to him. Locking your lips, you and John began to share a searing kiss. It was one of those that made your heartbeat start to speed up against the walls of your chest, one that you would never forget for as long as you shall live 

That’s the moment that John recalled when he snapped back into reality to see you standing in front of him, looking like the most gorgeous bride ever. His eyes sparkled with love and affection, his smile growing warmer right as the Officiant continued on with his speech. The music already faded out and it was all silent on the Western front – only the Officiant spoke, and the audience was also silent, even the babies. “— in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” The Officiant asked while his head was turned in John’s direction, who answered with a light nod of his head in confirmation.

“I do.” John responded to the Officiant, his eyes never once straying away from yours.

“And do you, Ms. (Y/N), take Mr. Jardani Jovonovich to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

The ring bearers then handed the proper ring to the bride and groom, which was then followed by you and John sliding either ring on each other’s ring finger. You both were smiling gleefully at each other while the trade was made between you. “In the power vested in me, I hereby declare you husband and wife.” The Officiant announced with joy radiating through his tone of voice as he took a small step back, allowing you and John to close the distance between the both of you. “You may now kiss the bride.” He said to John, who didn’t waste a second in making your marriage official.

That kiss, it’s like one that you could only ever dream of. It was one that would change either of your lives forever; not like how your first kiss did, no. This kiss was one that would change the course of your relationship for the rest of your lives, officially making the both of you legally married. He was your husband, and you were his wife. And now, you could live happily ever after.

[greenmanalishi]