#Keanu reeves fics

[velvainee]

✦ ⎯⎯ ㅤִㅤ ୭ 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 ( john constantine x reader )

ᨳ ꒰ précis ꒱. You’re powerful witch who finds herself locked away in a secret facility, your powers restrained. John Constantine is tasked with watching over you, but your interactions quickly escalate into a dangerous game of desire and manipulation. 1.6k words

୨ৎ warnings. gagging, blowjob, dark themes, language, manipulation, beat taming, bratty reader, hate to love.

𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, thanks for everyone likes/reblogs/comments on my last fic ! glad to know im doing okay for my first blog, hope you enjoy this oneee 🤍

IN THE DARK CONFINES OF YOUR PRISON, the air hung heavy with tension as Constantine sauntered in, his gaze cold and calculating. You glared at him, your defiance simmering beneath the surface as he lit his cigarette with practiced ease.

“So, still causing trouble, are we?” he sneered, the smoke curling around his lips like a serpent ready to strike.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you leaned back against the cold metal of your cage.

You knew the figure, the both of you shared history. Was it something positive? No. Unforgettable? Yes, sadly.

“You’re not one to talk, Constantine. What brings you down to my little corner of hell?”

A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes as he took a step closer, the scent of smoke and whiskey mingling with the heady aroma of magic that permeated the air.

“I’m here to make sure you behave yourself, love. Can’t have you running amok and causing chaos now, can we?”

You bristled at his condescending tone, your hands curling into fists as you fought the urge to lash out.

“Who appointed you my bloody babysitter? Last time I checked, I don’t answer to anyone.”

Constantine chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, you’ll answer to me, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not.”

He stepped towards a chair and straddled it, his gaze never leaving yours as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight. I’m in charge here, and you will do as I say. Understand?”

You bristled at his arrogance, but something in his tone sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

“I swear to god when I’m out of this cage you won’t be smiling anymore,” You hissed. “So no, I won’t be doing as you say,”

A wicked grin spread across Constantine’s lips as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Trust me, love, you won’t like the consequences.”

You swallowed hard, the air crackling with tension as you met his gaze head-on.

“Try me, Constantine. I dare you.”

In the tense silence that followed, the air hung heavy with anticipation, each breath a struggle against the suffocating weight of desire and defiance.

Constantine’s eyes bore into yours, a challenge laid bare in their steely depths as he savored the delicious tension that crackled between you.

But you refused to back down, your resolve like iron as you held his gaze, daring him to make the first move.

And oh, how he relished in the challenge, the thrill of the hunt coursing through his veins like a drug.

With a low growl, he closed the distance between you, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, love,” he warned, his voice a low, seductive purr that sent shivers down your spine.

“I can’t believe they had to put you in a secluded prison like this,” he mocked, a slight smile in the corner of his lips as he leaned away, lighting up a cigar.

“You’re still a little baby—sure you’re like, 380 years old or something, but ain’t that barely an adult for a witch?” He’d snark.

"Oh, spare me the sanctimonious crap, Constantine," you retorted, rolling your eyes with exaggerated disdain.

"You act like you're some kind of hero, but we both know you're just a washed-up has-been with a superiority complex. And for the record, I may be centuries old, but I've got more power in my pinky finger than you'll ever have in your entire miserable existence. So don't you dare patronize me with your petty insults and pathetic attempts at wit,”

Constantine chuckled softly, not amused by how bratty and defiant you were from a few simple jokes he had spoke. He sat there, shaking his head.

“Now, either help me bust out of this hellhole or get the hell out of my sight. Your choice, 'babysitter.'" You’d add.

Constantine's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he took a long drag from his cigar, the smoke swirling lazily around him like a cloak of shadows.

"Touchy, aren't we?" he chuckled, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with casual arrogance.

"But hey, if you're so eager to prove yourself, by all means, sweetheart," he continued, his voice laced with mockery as he gestured towards the reinforced walls of your prison cell.

"Want me to help you break free from those chains and wreak havoc like the big bad witch you think you are?”

He sighed, pondering his decision.

"But just remember, love," he added, his tone turning serious for a moment as he fixed you with a piercing gaze.

"I’d need something in return."

And with that, he leaned back in his chair, the smirk never leaving his lips as he awaited your next move, knowing full well that this game was far from over.

He unlocked the bars of the cell, closing it behind him as he shuffled the keys to undo your handcuffs, the metal now clanking in the ground as your wrists feel free once more.

Constantine clicked his tongue, gently pressing his hand against your shoulder before you started to stand up.

“You owe me,” He reminded you, your eyes flickering up to meet his brown eyed gaze.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Constantine’s demand, wondering if he was serious about this whole debt thing.

“Seriously? Whatever, do you want me to be your sex slave or something?” you quipped, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words as a small chuckle escaped your lips.

Constantine remained silent, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. One corner of his lips lifted into a light smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Narrowing your eyebrows, you suddenly realized that your flippant remark might have hit closer to the mark than you intended.

“It’s nothing big,” Constantine purred, his voice low and seductive. “There’s this motel we can stop by—I just want to see if that bratty mouth can do more than just argue.”

The car ride to the motel was shrouded in darkness, the only illumination coming from the dim glow of the dashboard lights and the occasional flicker of street lamps as they passed by.

The night air was heavy with anticipation, the tension between you and Constantine palpable as you made your way through the deserted streets.

The dingy motel loomed ahead, its neon sign flickering ominously in the darkness. As Constantine pulled into the parking lot, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease wash over you.

With a click of the door, Constantine stepped out of the car, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on, love,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding. “Lets put you to good use,”

Heart pounding in your chest, you followed him into the motel room, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne.

The room was small and cramped, the bed unmade and the curtains drawn tightly shut against the outside world.

Without a word, Constantine closed the door behind you, his eyes burning with a hunger that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

“On your knees,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire as he gestured towards the bed.

Trembling with anticipation, you sank to your knees before him, your pulse racing as you met his gaze head-on.

“I fucking hate you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath as you reached for the zipper of his pants.

With a low growl, Constantine pushed you back onto the bed, his hands gripping your hair as he guided your head towards his throbbing length.

Your tongue slid against the tip, tasting the salty precum that leaked out of the nub.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as you took him into your mouth, eager to please him in every way possible.

As you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of his movements, you couldn’t help but moan around him, the sound sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his veins.

“That’s right,” he growled, his grip tightening on your hair as he drove himself deeper into your mouth.

As he moved back and forth, his cock continued to hit the back of your throat, each thrust pushing you to the brink of gagging.

With each response, you only whimpered, your eyes locking onto his with a mix of submission and desire. They glowed a bright red, a telltale sign of a flustered witch overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“Oh, do you like this?” he mocked, his smirk widening as he increased the pace, his cock sliding between your small, plump lips.

“And here I thought you hated me,” he’d add. A strand of your dress slipped off your shoulder, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze.

“I bet this witch would like more than one hole filled,” he laughed, the sound mingling with your muffled moans as he drove himself deeper into your mouth.

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your body trembling with desire for more.

“I’m close, baby—stay like that for me,” he huffed, his movements becoming more urgent as he neared the edge of ecstasy.

The sight of you, on your knees before him, your mouth stretched around his twitching cock, was enough to push him over the edge.

And as he reached the peak of pleasure, spilling himself into your eager mouth, you couldn’t help but revel in the intoxicating sensation of him filling you completely.

He leaned back, watching as his hot seed filled your entire mouth, an amused smirk now on his lips.

“You know, you’re really pretty like this.”

♡ 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Prologue)

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.

A/N | Hi luvs, I'm going to post the prologue of this fic I'm writing, but I'm in doubt about whether to continue this series or if it's good enough to keep going. Any feedback would help me a lot!

John Wick walked down the quiet streets, the soft glow of streetlights reflecting on the damp pavement. The air was cool, carrying the scent of rain and earth. He wasn’t running, wasn’t being chased. For once, the silence of the night wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, though his guard was never fully down. He needed a moment to breathe, away from the endless chaos.

Passing by a small bookstore, his steps slowed. The window display was simple—old books stacked in rows, with a single potted plant resting in the corner. It wasn’t the kind of place that drew much attention, but for some reason, John felt drawn to it.

He opened the door, the bell jingling lightly above him. Inside, the store smelled of leather, paper, and something sweet—like freshly brewed tea. The place was cozy, a contrast to the hard, cold streets outside. A soft voice drifted from the back of the shop.

“I’ll be right with you!”

John stayed still, scanning the shelves as his fingers brushed against the spines of books, some worn and aged, others new. His eyes caught a glimpse of a small table in the corner, where a tea set sat beside a worn book, pages marked with a ribbon.

“Sorry for the wait!”

A woman appeared from behind a stack of books. She was holding a mug in one hand, her other hand adjusting the frames of her glasses. Her smile was warm, her eyes kind—completely unaware of who stood before her.

John offered a slight nod, still not speaking. She didn’t seem fazed by his silence, instead setting down the mug and stepping closer.

“Not many people come in this late. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

John opened his mouth to respond, but found himself hesitating. He didn’t need anything. At least, not in the way she thought. “No,” he finally said, his voice low. “Just… looking.”

She gave a gentle laugh. “I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to get lost in a book, or in the quiet.” She leaned against the counter, her gaze soft as she studied him. “You seem like someone who appreciates quiet.”

John’s jaw tightened for a second, not out of discomfort, but because her words struck deeper than she realized. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“Well, if you need a recommendation, I’m here,” she said with a small shrug, her tone light. “Otherwise, feel free to wander.”

John gave a small nod of thanks and continued walking through the aisles. Something about the bookstore—about her—was soothing. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel the weight of his past bearing down on him.

He wasn’t John Wick, the assassin. Not here. Not with her.

Next chapter!

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet 🖤 a yandere!john wick x fem!reader coffee shop sunshine/grump au

Table of Contents

something sweet

burned

the cougar

the mountain

lamb in the lion's den

avenging angel

the book thief

joyride

pest

drunk text

mondo piccolo

la dolce vita

vino veritas

kitten

walk of shame

bad girl

got u

war and peace

crime and punishment

lost and found

bound for hell

deal with the devil

show me your teeth

bully

knots

breaking point

surprise

haunted

lady of the daisies

say something

run

hard lesson

suits & guns

quite continental

purgatory

rough play

ruse

the honorable thing

pool time

parlay

reprieve

home sweet home

surprise

the god of death

halcyon daze

tbc...

[discoscoob]

FRIEND ZONE | Neo Anderson x Reader

Under the warm glow of a single lamp and the flickering light of the television, that neither of you are paying any attention to, Neo sits silently on the couch in your shared apartment. Curled up beside him, with your head buried against his chest, you sob against the worn fabric of his dark hoodie.

Neo feels his heart ache with a heaviness settling in his chest and one question clawing at his insides. How could anyone hurt you like this? You’re too kind, too precious, too… perfect to be inflicted with that kind of pain. How could someone take your love for granted, when he would do anything to have you look at him the way you look at those unworthy fools who only end up hurting you?

He shifts slightly, unsure how to hold you without holding too tightly. His arms feel clumsy in moments like this. He wants to cradle you, to keep you safe and protect you, but instead he just awkwardly rests his arm on your shoulder, the lightest touch - the only touch he dares.

You sniffle, lifting your head just enough to speak, the sight of your swollen and puffy eyes, agitated by your tears, provokes a coiling ache in the pit of Neo’s stomach.

“Why do I always pick the worst guys?” you wipe your tears with your sweater paws, your voice shaky and raw as you speak. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong? Why is it so hard to find someone who actually cares? Someone who will love me… for me.”

Neo’s throat tightens. Every time you say something like that, it’s like you’re throwing daggers straight at his heart, unaware how much he aches to unburden himself of his hidden feelings towards you. He wants to shout, I'm right here! He wants to pull you closer and tell you that you don't have to keep searching. He wants to tell you that you’ve already found the guy who would give anything to make you smile, to protect your heart like it's the most precious thing in the world— because to him, it is.

“He was a jerk, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong, he’s an idiot for not realising how lucky he was to have you.” Neo says softly, his fingers gently rubbing circles on your shoulder. “You deserve so much better than him. Someone who will cherish you and would do anything just to make you happy.”

“I don’t think such a guy exists, Neo.” your shaky laugh sounds bitter as you hopelessly admit your dwindling faith in love.

The words hit Neo in the chest like a hammer. His heart twists painfully, almost cruelly. It's not just what you said—it's the finality of it, the way you’re so convinced that no one would ever love you the way you deserve. No one, including him. It's like you don't see him at all. It makes him feel invisible.

I exist, his mind screams, but his mouth stays sealed.

“He does exist, Y/N. I promise, he does.” his strained voice answers around the lump in his throat that he painfully swallows. Neo hesitates, the truth on the tip of his tongue, held back by his own cowardice. The thought of losing you, your friendship, your laughter, your late-night talks — it paralyses him. He knows if he tells you the truth, everything could change. What if you pull away from him, the only person he's ever felt this connected to? What if he loses you? That scares him more than anything.

“Maybe… maybe he’s closer than you think.” Neo cautiously adds, his fragile heart anxiously teetering between the possibility that you might catch onto his subtle hint and realistically knowing that you won’t. His heart will fall either way because the possibility of you knowing will only lead to the possibility of your rejection.

“I wish more guys were like you, Neo. You’re the only one who never lets me down. I don’t know what I’d do without you… you’re like my rock.” Neo feels his chest clench uncomfortably at your words, because they’re agonisingly close to what he desperately wants to hear but almost cruelly they’re not meant in the way that he wishes. They’re never meant in the way that he wishes.

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I promise I’ll never let you down.”

And he means it. Even if it means swallowing his own feelings. Even if it means watching you fall for someone else again and again. He will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and carefully put them back together with tender care. While neglecting his own broken heart. Because loving you is the easiest thing he's ever done. Telling you... that's the hardest.

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[inklore]

undo me

premise: the relationship between you and john is anything but soft, normal, domestic. it's deeper and more complicated than that. the pleasure and relief of desire that the two of you bring each other the only things clear cut.

pairing: john wick x (f)reader

word count: 904

warnings: eighteen+ content, handjob, dirty talk, references and illusions to oral and fingering, established fwbs, blood mention, reader is in the same 'business' as john.

note: i've never written for this beautiful man and it's honestly a crime because he's so underrated and i want to hold him!

The fire that’s burning in his eyes—lust fueled, hungry, a craving only you can stop that has that underlying anger within it—scalds your senses. Makes the hand that you have wrapped around his cock ache to move faster, to twist, and run your thumb along the leaking head so you can hear that deep groan he lets out against your forehead. The noises he tries to hide with the kisses to the top of your skull that are anything but affection. 

Affection he’d never admit to and you’d never claim anything of. 

The two of you were the same. Joined in loss and hatred, and the bloodshed that you’ve spilt and tainted your skin with was second nature. Something that felt like you were born into, for, the longer you stayed in the business. The longer enemies piled as high as the bodies you’d claimed along the way of some sort of redemption. A release. A freedom from something that had no end. 

It was only when you two were together like this—when John allowed himself to be like this with you—that those enemies, the bloodshed, and freedom didn’t matter. 

Weren’t pounding at the door, threatening to take your life before you could take theirs. 

You didn’t know if he was a giving lover. Not really. When you were done, he usually finished you off, always with his fingers. A handful of times with his mouth. There were no soft kisses or devotions whispered into the crook of your neck. Pulling him towards the bed and stripping like some domesticated couple was not in the cards. Wasn’t what this was about—why it had kept happening and why you always knew his knock by heart and grew wetter the closer you got to the door. 

To invite him another night to give each other the release you needed—that closeness to another person as your hearts would allow—and then he was gone and reality was back with a vengeance. 

Tonight is no different. 

The same knock. 

The same quick work of unbuckling his pants to slide your hand down them to pull out his cock and wrap your fist around it. 

Your knees had bent, a descent ready to be made to give him a better release from his tense shoulders with your mouth. But his grip on your hip had stopped you.

His forehead coming down on yours, hair growing slick with sweat the longer you jerked him off, the more his body sank into the pleasure. His breath heavy, “want your eyes on me tonight.” He had said, an overanalysis of the tenor in it, making you want to think it was begging. A desperate plea. 

But never from him. 

And you had done what he said. 

Kept your eyes on him.

Let your eyes move along his face; watch as he wets his lips with his tongue, as his eyes screw shut for half a second when you twist your wrist at the head of his cock the way he liked. The fist he had pressed into the door behind your head keeping himself stationary. His body weight half leaned into you, giving just enough room for him to move his hips.

To fuck up into your hand.

To set the pace he needed. 

There was a time and place for you to make conversation while doing this. To ask him if he had a rough day or crack a joke. But tonight, you know he doesn’t need it. He just needs this.

You.

Your hand. 

To get off. 

For you to help him. 

“John,” you murmur softly against his cheek. Bring his attention back to you, popping whatever fantasy he’s letting burn through his gaze, so he can only see you. “Tell me how good it feels; am I making you feel good?” 

“Yeah,” his voice has lost all of its normal sternness. All of the frightening edges that have men and women running. He sounds weak, breathless, and overcome. It makes you ache. “Couldn’t–” he curses under his breath. Brings the hand from your hip to your neck to rest and tighten with each downward stroke. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight. I needed to see you. Needed to-”

“To come for me.” The noise he lets out at your words has your gut plummeting. Your thighs closing in around the leg he has positioned between them. You open your mouth to tell him to do it, to come for you, to let go. But his fingers are muffling your words. Stealing them from your tongue as he presses two fingers against it. 

“Get them wet.” He demands. Watches as you swirl your tongue around them and coat them in your spit, taking them out when he’s satisfied and moving them down to where your fingers are wrapped around him. Swiping the spit against his head for you to use as more friction—easier, wetter. 

You can tell he’s close by the hitch in his breath. The fast rock of his hips, the fingers digging into your neck. 

And the way he’s looking at you, the slow trail he makes between your eyes and your mouth, you half expect him to kiss you. To press his mouth to yours in a way he’s never done before. 

A slow seeping disappointment is swiped away by arousal when he says, “get on your knees. I want you to taste what you do to me.” 

[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.

[97keanu]

hey! you could write with john wick coming home to find his wife in the garden with the "garden boy" who clearly likes her but she doesn't realize it. i imagine john being subtle and quiet with his jealousies, nothing too scandalous but serious and direct. fluffly, please and thank you so much 🩷

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I loved this idea so much! I hope you like it, feel free to ask for any expanding drabbles of these two <3

Jealous!John Wick x Naive!Reader

Tags: john is jealous, reader is naive about his jealousies, gardener def has a crush but would rather quit than act on it with john always around, age gap mention, lower class reader in a rich world, possessive john, protective john, primal john

Summer was dying, August dragging out the heat of July, telling the world it was unready to leave just yet. And you, well, you were enjoying the last of the long days, the time when sunset went on for ages, and burned in the sky a blazing orange over your backyard. You always loved the sun, how it turned everything golden each evening, and how it kissed your skin with its heat. 

You were barely breaking a sweat, laying out by the pool while the gardener worked on the bushes. He was young. More around your age than your husband John. Which was nice sometimes, when you got to converse with him, both because of his age, and like you he wasn't from a wealthy background. It kept you a bit more grounded while the life of luxury continued on around you, it was nice to confide in him. 

Unfortunately, what you never noticed was the gardeners wandering eyes. Even now, as you lay out in your bikini, eyes closed and skin happy to drink up the suns rays, he can't help but to watch you. If you asked the gardener about it, he would never admit to his little crush on you. As much as that would be unprofessional of him, he also has no interest in messing with his employer, John Wick. There were rumors, you know, about John coming home, bruised and bloody, a painting of struggle on his skin, the smell of gunpowder on his suit. The gardner has even caught a glimpse before, and watched as you greet your husband as a source of safety and comfort. No one asked why it was that John came home in such a state, but everyone knew, and because of that, the gardener would never pursue you. He would remain a healthy confidant, easing your worries in the world of the rich, and letting you keep in touch with the world outside the private neighborhood. 

The gardener still steals a look or two while he thinks he can get away with it. His headphones buzz with music, drowning out the weed whacker as well as much of his own thoughts. He idly appreciated your body and your beauty from afar, before his stomach drops. He felt for only a moment that he was the one being watched now, and when his eyes flicker up, he meets a set of dark, dangerous eyes. John has entered the backyard, likely in search of his wife, who is currently enjoying the last days of summer. The most frightening part is how close he is, the gardner had no idea that John had snuck up behind him, and now he feels the trail of sweat down his back running cold.

Instead of finding his wife, John sees this man, who he pays handsomely to do work John has no time for, drooling over his wife. The gardener quickly looks away, trying to be busy with work, but the feeling of John's gaze never leaves his back. He starts to feel sweaty for reasons besides the burning August heat, and does everything he can to stop from looking over his back once more. There was just something about John that scared him to his core, and he felt he should trust that feeling if he were to survive. 

Unfortunately for the gardener, John isn't finished. He feels John remove one of his ear buds, the man now so close he can smell John's expensive taste in cologne. 

"I don't pay you to eye fuck my wife." John growls out, assertive and serious. 

"N-no, of course not, Mr. Wick…" The gardener quickly tries to find his way out of this mess, John's cold eyes are enough to scare him away from looking at you for a good long while. 

"Good. I suggest you go home for the night." John maintains professionalism always, but the thoughts running through his head tell a different story. The gardener can practically see these thoughts and takes John's suggestion, quickly moving away to pack up. 

Meanwhile, you don't even know this interaction has happened, eyes closed lightly, sunglasses blocking out the sun. It isn't until John's lips kiss and whisper against your cheek, that you realize your husband is home for the day. Your eyelids flutter open, happy to see his dark form against the dulling blue sky. He looks at you with a small fire in his eyes, and you have no idea he is trying to show off while he continues to kiss down your neck. 

He's halfway to your breast, maybe more,  when you glimpse the gardener beginning to pack up in a haste, and gently pull John away, for modesty if anything. You notice the gardener refuses to look in your direction and wonder why.

"John, wait…" You say softly, and John let's out a small noise of annoyance that his lips must be pulled from your soft skin. 

"What's wrong?" His voice is low, gruff. 

"Let's wait until…" Your eyes finish your sentence, looking towards the gardener once more. John scoffs when he sees where your gaze is going. 

"What? I'm not allowed to lay claim to you in front of the staff?" He says, almost arrogantly. You aren't exactly surprised, John has always been protective, if not possessive. You don't mind it much, in fact sometimes it even turned you on how primal he could be about it. But you also thought you had tamed his jealousy regarding the gardener months ago. 

"You don't have to claim me, John, I'm already yours…" You say with a smirk, kissing right under his well kept beard. John seems to be calmed for the moment by your words, and while he enjoys your kiss, the gardner slips away for the night, safe once again for now. 

John's eyes open when your lips leave his neck, and he looks down at you, perplexed. 

"Why'd you stop…?" He breathes out, voice already dripping, husky with want. You smirk, and stand from where you were sun tanning, taking his hand and pulling him to the house. 

[beansricejc]

juices like wine

werewolf!john wick x f!reader

synopsis: on a full moon’s night, you think you’ll be safe in this house alone with your fellow monster hunter.

warnings: monster!jw, cursing, pussy drunk activities, oral (f receiving), squirting, sniffing, watered down spec of masochism, dbf!john, age gap, dub con(?)

authors note: thx for all of ur messages, life is just too much rn and I’m attempting to keep up haha, here’s that spooky thing I promised

“Uh, are you sure this will-“

“Of course it will!” I rolled my eyes, tightening the cuffs on the iron cuffs on John’s wrists. “My dad’s book says that werewolves can’t break through iron. And his book is never wrong.”

John flashed me a skeptical look with his eyebrows raised before rolling those thin brown eyes. Hunting monsters has always been our side gig. Although, things became a little tricky when he had accidentally been bitten by a now dead furry friend, almost a month ago now. Tonight was the full moon, and there haven’t been any side effects but John insisted on taking no chances.

My partner in crime sighed, grunting a bit with discomfort as the iron restraints dig into his flesh a little.

“It better not be wrong. I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happened.”

My hand grabs his bearded and chiseled face, forcing John to give me his attention. There’s always been… tension, between the two of us. Yet neither have acted on it. He was my dad’s best friend after all, before my dad became vampire food on a job gone awry.

“Nothing is gonna happen.” I reassured him, my fingers squeezing his face a bit harder this time. John nods to himself, taking a few deep breaths. “It’s only for a night. Hell, I can just turn The Office on for you while you’re in here.”

Light hearted humor got me nowhere tonight. I’m an idiot. A fool. A fucking moron. That’s what I’m telling myself as I creep through the house on the second floor. A silver dagger in one hand, a phone in the other, with Charon on the other line, the closest Hunter in proximity to us in the state.

“His senses are better, he’s faster, stronger, you need to get out of there or just kill him.” Charon pleads. I grunt quietly.

“I can’t leave-“

A loud and bone rattling howl bounces off of the walls of the house, startling me. I froze in my tracks, cursing under my breath. I hang up the phone and slip it into the pocket of my leggings.

“You smell even better during a full moon.”

My breathing stops as I feel the breath of another behind me. I know damn well who that person is, his voice is much deeper and gravelly than normal, this isn’t him. This isn’t the John I know.

A yelp escaped my lips as two paw-like hands grab me from behind, tossing me over a huge shoulder. John’s shirt is mostly ripped all the way off, since his transformation took place under just a simple tee shirt and flannel pants.

“John! Put me down!” I shouted, legs thrashing as my fists beat at his huge back. Thud, thud, thud, it did nothing. I hadn’t even noticed that John had tossed the silver blade aside until I had tried to use it.

A deep throaty chuckle erupts from John’s mouth, right before he tossed me onto the bed of the master bedroom. I land on silken sheets as my eyes widen, experiencing John as half man, half wolf, for the first time. Fangs peek from his lips as his beard had become much more untamed and wild, even his hair is much longer and crazy.

Muscles bulge from his shirt, before he gets frustrated and rips it off with an irritated roar. The shreds of the fabric land on the wood floor, as his evolved muscles ripple over my cowering form on the king sized bed.

“Such a pretty girl. I’ve always known better than to have a piece of you to myself.” John speaks lowly, his red eyes linger over me. “But I can’t control myself tonight. I’m sorry sweetpea.”

“Wait, John, just, wait!” I know damn well it’s to no avail. His paws grab my thighs and push my legs to the mattress, as his nose buries itself in my clothed crotch. Frowning, I scream in objection but my squirming and resistance is futile. I can’t even beat John while we spar, of course I won’t even have a chance while he’s half man, half creature.

“Fuck, you’re ovulating.” John salivates and takes in a deep breath to get the scent of my cunt imbedded into his feral brain. With one tiny motion of his razor sharp claws, despite my avid protests, he sliced the crotch of my leggings open like butter.

“Hey hey hey! No! John, this can’t happen!” I stammer out quickly. John is far too heavy and I don’t stand a chance.

“Don’t worry. My cock is too big to give you right now.” John insists, dropping his pajama pants and tugging on his huge erection. It matches his insanely big body, one that I’m just realizing has been growing larger and larger ever since he began his chase.

My jaw dropped as I notice he’s got to be at least seven feet tall now, with a cock that’s about 10 inches long, but 4 inches wide. John seriously had a comically large and furry dick at the moment, and I had no idea if I should have laughed or just stayed quiet. So I picked the latter.

John drops to his knees, as both of his hands spread my thighs even further, taking a longer inhalation of the heat between them. Squirming under him, I couldn’t help but whimper and whine out of the pure tickling sensation. The feeling of his beard and nose on my folds were unfamiliar to say the least.

“John, get o-“

I stop talking and let out a moan as his big nose brushes against my clit. His long spongy tongue swiped efficiently on my folds, making them pliable enough to then plunge in a finger.

John let’s go of my thigh for half a second so he can shred apart my sleeping shirt, my tits falling out of the fabric. My nipples harden from the sudden air exposure. John growls against my cunt in response to that sinful visual. One of his paws smack my left breast, earning a gasp from me, while his tongue worked overtime inside of me.

Head like this only existed in porn, right?

Apparently not. Apparently, you can get head like this from your local werewolf.

My fingers dug at the bedsheets and also his head of messy long hair. My fingers even brush against his newly grown canine-like ears, I keep forgetting that this is only happening because John has turned. That meant, he was eating my pussy and needing to inhale my scent on pure instinct. If he doesn’t, he’d go insane. He’d lose control. Maybe even kill someone.

The mere thought of my vagina actually being the death of someone kinda has me in a chokehold at the moment.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.”

John continued to lick, suck, thrust, whatever he could to with his tongue to get my taste and scent locked into his memory. He’s even so desperate that he has managed to scratch up my thighs and stomach in the process. The cuts aren’t anything too deep, maybe a bit more than a cat claw. But I’d be in denial if I claimed the slight sting of his nails and there euphoric head I was receiving wasn’t a delectable combination.

A knot forms in my lower region, an unusual feeling. Not like an orgasm, no, this was something else entirely. I had no idea what to expect, but it sure as hell was shocking when I began to squirt all over John’s bearded face.

My cum splashed onto his cheeks and nose, even a bit of his forehead. The dribbles from my pussy coat his unkempt beard, and he catches his breath with an exhausted smile when he pulls away.

With my legs trembling and moans spilling from my mouth, I laid under his beastly frame, helpless. Exposed to my elder Hunter, it was a shock to see him as some vicious monster. My heart was nearly about to give out from the intensity of the orgasm, and from the pure shock I was still trying to comprehend.

While he collected my juices from his face and sucked them off of his fingers, my mind is racing as I wonder, is he even going to remember this tomorrow? When he shifts back, is it going to be awkward between us from now on? There’s no way he actually felt so strongly for me… right?

If he didn’t recall eating me out like it was his last day on earth, how am I going to drop that bomb? John’s hands grab my face, much like how I had a few hours earlier. His moist nose and forehead press against mine, smushing in a little. My own juices smear against my small face. John’s red eyes demand my full attention from mere centimeters away.

That same rough voice gives me a growling chuckle.

“Been waiting three years for that one, babygirl. Maybe now you’ll notice me.”

[the-marshals-wife]

Angel Shot (John Wick x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Just a little something because I missed writing for John and watching all the movies again on winter break has got me feeling inspired. ♥

Description: John Wick x Fem!Reader, protective John fluff | Warnings: mild language, alcohol, suggestive themes, Y/N is harassed/threatened and John intervenes | Setting: before Helen (or AU without her, you decide) | Word count: 1,474

Gif credit: user johnswick

Imagine John coming to your defense when a former associate won't leave you alone

It had been a long week. All you wanted was a moment of peace and a cold drink. Normally, you had no trouble finding that at the bar within the New York Continental. On this night, however, you found yourself wishing you had gone elsewhere. No sooner had you taken the first sip of your cocktail did Rico Augustine spot you from across the room.

You keep your eyes fixed forward and pretend not to notice his approach on your right.

"Look who it is," he announces, mockery in his voice, "The rooftop sniper."

"Rico," you acknowledge placidly. You could already sense this interaction would not remain civil. A quick glance his direction allowed you to take notice of his haggard, unshaven face and wrinkled suit. Even in the subdued glow of the mood lighting, you could see the wildness in his bloodshot eyes as he clutched the edge of the bartop.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink," he starts, leaning in closer, "but considering I'm a little light of funds right now, maybe you should be the one getting me something, huh?"

The alcohol on his breath was strong enough to burn your nose. Apparently, he'd managed to evade both sleep and sobriety since you last spoke.

"I already have one," you say, gesturing with your glass, "And I'm not sure you need another."

"It really is the least you can do, after what you stole from me," he provoked, his disgust poorly veiled.

His proximity, paired with his odor and audacity, set a fire in your blood.

"Are we really going to go over this again?" you ask, turning toward him, "I didn't know you were there last night. I wouldn't have taken the shot if I had. I don't work like that."

"You know that's my territory. I followed that mark for two hours and you took him right out from underneath me. I needed that money," he seethes, drawing out his next words, "You owe me."

You pivot back to the bar, your temper flaring. "It was an open contract, Rico. Just because we worked together on the Morocco Exchange doesn't mean I owe you," you state, taking a swig before speaking once more, "I already gave you a 30% cut, from a profit you didn't earn in the first place. That means we're finished."

His hand flies up to grab your wrist, causing you to drop your drink. The glass rattles and liquid sloshes out as it hits the bartop, but it does not fall over. With the dull roar of music and conversation filling the room, the noise isn't enough to catch the distracted bartender's attention.

"What if I say we're not?" he asks, his voice growling in your ear, "What if we're only finished when I say we are?"

Before you can answer or go for the dagger concealed in your shirt sleeve, you feel the cold steel of a concealed blade begin to dig into your ribs.

"I tried being polite, but you just had to keep flapping those lips of yours."

"You don't want to do this," you warn through gritted teeth.

"Wrong again," he sneers, his gratified tone sending a shiver down your back, "Why don't we continue this conversation up in my room, hm?"

You try to make eye contact with the bartender, but his back is still turned toward you, occupied with a chatty patron. Only one option remained: be even less civil. You try to free your dagger slowly from its sheath on your forearm without Rico noticing. It starts to slide loose as he pulls you toward him with a sickening laugh. The hilt is almost in your palm when, in the mirror on the wall of liquor bottles, you catch a glimpse of someone approaching from behind. They come to stand at your left a few seconds before you hear a voice that brings immediate relief.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, John," you say.

"Nice night," he remarks.

"Sure is," you reply, glancing to him from the corner of your eye.

"Evening, Rico. Can I buy you a drink?" John asks.

"Thanks John, but Y/N and I are about tapped out for the night. Ain't that right?"

You attempt to turn your head towards John, but Rico pushes the blade harder into your side in response.

"Yeah," you say unconvincingly, wincing from the sting, "Thought about ordering an Angel Shot though."

There's a brief silence before John speaks again. "That so?"

"This doesn't concern you, Wick," Rico snarls, his fake cordiality gone in an instant, "Mind your business."

"Actually, you made it my business when you pulled that knife," John responds calmy, "Now, how about that drink? Or shall I make a dinner reservation instead?"

You feel the grip on your arm loosen a bit. Your assailant knew as well as you did what that meant. One of two things awaited him: a whiskey, or a body bag.

Despite the warning, Rico scoffs, looking past you to glare at John.

"Come on, Wick. You and I both know you don't have the balls to break hotel rules," he retorts, his thin lips curling into smirk.

John doesn't blink. "You willing to bet on that?"

You suppress the urge to smile as you watch the reflection of your harasser's face lose its gusto, along with most of the color.

"Last chance, Rico," John says, "Take your hands off her, and walk away."

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Rico narrows his gaze, but lets go of your arm. "Of course. Whatever you say, Baba Yaga," he jeers, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve.

You exhale, but the sweaty brute leans back in close to your face and hisses, "The Boogeyman won't always be there to save you. This isn't over."

Rico starts to walk past you, but John grabs his arm, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "I didn't catch that last part."

He clears his throat, avoiding John's piercing stare. "It was nothing."

"Uh-huh," he deadpans, "Didn't think so."

"What's the matter, Wick? We're all professionals here, aren't we?" he poses; more a begrudged plea for mercy than an inquiry.

"Some of us more than others, it would seem," John replies, proceeding to lower his voice, "If you threaten her again, you'll find out just how professional I can be."

Rico clenches his jaw, his eye twitching in rage. Even as he choked on his own venom, he knew he was beaten. He violently recoils as John releases his arm, straightening his jacket and running a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. You, John, and the rest of the room watch him retreat until he's completely out of sight.

Boogeyman or not, John had a way of drawing attention. The hush that had fallen over the room fades as customers return to their drinks and conversation, no doubt now discussing what sort of gruesome scene they were nearly witnesses to.

John finally turns to you. "Are you alright?"

You nod and smile a bit, "Thanks to you."

"I'm sure you had it handled."

"Yeah, but I wasn't looking forward to scrubbing his blood out of this fabric. You can never find this color, I'd hate to toss it," you chuckle, looking down at your shirt.

"We wouldn't want that," he says, amused.

You replace your tousled hair behind your ear and meet his softened gaze. "Thank you, John."

"You're welcome, Y/N," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket, "You look like you could use a refill."

He holds up an all-too-familiar gold coin, then places it on the bartop. "On me."

"That's two I owe you then," you counter, giving him a knowing look.

"No. You don't owe me anything," he states, kind but firm. The look he gives you in return makes you feel that you shouldn't argue.

"Fair enough," you say, watching the now attentive bartender top off your beverage, "But at least let me get you a bourbon."

John retrieves his phone from another pocket, reading the screen and stowing it back as fast as he'd produced it.

"Thank you, but I'll have to take a raincheck," John says, touching your shoulder before walking away. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

"You have business elsewhere tonight?" you question, calling after him.

"Yeah," he answers, pausing a moment, "But I won't be checking out for another day or so."

You smirk. "Be seeing you, then?"

He nods, the smallest trace of a smile on his face.

"Be seeing you."

He turns to leave, and your eyes follow him until the last. Drink back in hand, your heart continues its excited drumming. You press the cold crystal to your lips and grin. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad night after all.

"Give 'em hell, John."

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Chapter two)

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 | 3.1k

A/N | Hey guys! In this chapter, I tried to show John’s work and a bit of Mia’s struggles. Sorry if there are any mistakes in my writing 🤫

Previous chapter!

At the back of the bookstore, Mia should have been busy shelving the new books that had arrived, but her attention was quickly diverted by a small romance novel. The cover was captivating, and as she flipped through the pages, a wave of warmth spread across her face, leaving her cheeks slightly flushed. With an involuntary smile, she let out a small giggle, immersed in the unfolding story. However, reality soon pulled her back: she had promised to stop by the market with her aunt later, and time was already ticking. Quickly setting the book aside, she knew she would soon have to close the bookstore and leave.

Mia sighed, still with a faint smile, as she returned her focus to the shelves. The smell of new paper and the familiarity of the books comforted her, almost like a warm embrace. She carefully organized the volumes, reminding herself of the promise she had made to her grandfather before he passed away: to take care of the place that meant so much to them both. The bookstore was a refuge filled with memories and shared laughter, and now more than ever, she felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.

As she worked, her eyes drifted to the window, where the sunlight was beginning to fade, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. The contrast between the beauty of the moment and the internal struggle she faced made her sigh again. Keeping the bookstore alive in a world increasingly indifferent to places like it was a constant challenge. She remembered the conversations she had had with her grandfather about the dream of passing the bookstore down, and that pushed her to fight for the legacy.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who cares," she murmured while arranging a few more books. Despite the difficulties, the love she felt for the bookstore kept her going. She knew that every book there wasn't just an object but a doorway to other worlds. And as long as she could, she would do everything possible to protect that special place.

A light knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. A customer walked in, interrupting her introspection, looking around with a curious air.

"Good afternoon! Can I help you with something?" Mia asked, keeping a warm smile on her face, although her mind was still a bit distant.

The customer hesitated before answering, “Oh, yes! I’m looking for something about history. Any recommendations?”

Mia immediately brightened up. “We have great titles in the history section. I can show you a few I often recommend.” She walked over to the shelf, feeling the enthusiasm grow with each step. The bookstore always had that effect on her; even on difficult days, her love for books and the connections they brought made her feel more alive.

As she guided the customer, Mia cast a brief glance at the window, where the sky was already darkening, tinged with soft shades of blue and purple. She knew she’d have to leave soon to meet her aunt at the market, but she couldn’t close the store now with customers to serve.

“Mia!” Tom called, appearing from the back with a box full of new books. His usual carefree smile lit up his face. “Need help with the customer up front? I can give you a hand.”

She smiled, accustomed to his lighthearted tone. “Actually, I’m about to head out. I need to help my aunt at the market. Can you manage on your own for a bit?”

Tom feigned a look of concern, placing a hand on his chest. “On my own? I’ll try not to let the place fall apart.”

“You’ll be fine,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Just don’t suggest a cookbook to someone looking for adventure.”

“Got it,” he winked, with a grin. “Come back soon, or I might end up selling a mystery to someone looking for romance.”

“Just don’t let the customer leave without buying something,” Mia laughed, feeling lighter as she headed to the door.

Outside the bookstore, Mia noticed a crowd gathered near a fancy nightclub at the end of the street, its flashing lights twinkling like stars in the night sky. The distant sound of laughter and vibrant music reached her, suggesting something interesting was happening inside. Though curious, she knew she didn’t have time to get distracted.

With a soft sigh, Mia put on her long gray coat, which wrapped around her like a cozy embrace against the chilly wind. As she walked away from the bookstore, she cast one last glance at the nightclub, imagining the stories that might be unfolding inside.

Inside, however, another story was already in progress. The ceiling lights flashed frantically, and the loud music echoed everywhere, but John remained focused. The target was at the center of attention, surrounded by women laughing and dancing around him, a scene that only reinforced the superficiality of those people. A dishonest smile spread across the man’s face, and it made John’s stomach churn. He had a job to do, and none of that distracted him.

He positioned himself in a shadow, observing from a distance. The voices were a blur, the music a distant wave, while his mind focused only on the task at hand. The festive atmosphere was a stark contrast to the coldness enveloping his heart. The world around him became just a backdrop as he prepared to move.

John moved with precision, each step planned and calculated. He infiltrated the crowd, his presence almost invisible, like a ghost passing unnoticed. The laughter and pulsating music around him became distant noise; his only concern was the man who stood out among the rest.

He identified two security guards nearby, chatting casually, their attention drawn to the nightclub’s lively scene. Seizing the distraction, John approached silently, his trained body moving with almost supernatural grace. With a swift move, he neutralized the first guard, a precise strike that left him unconscious before he could make a sound.

The second guard had no time to react. In a split second, John was already on him, using the silenced weapon for a clean shot. The man fell, unaware of what had just happened. Now, only the target remained standing, surrounded by admirers who seemed oblivious to the approaching threat.

John adjusted his aim, feeling the adrenaline surge through his veins. The man, still laughing and enjoying himself, had no idea what was about to happen. He pulled the trigger, and with a single shot, the man fell, his smile frozen on his face.

The music continued to play, but a murmur of confusion began to spread as people around started to notice the scene. John, keeping calm, quickly withdrew. His experience had taught him always to have an escape plan. He moved through the shadows, blending in with the crowd, avoiding curious looks as he headed for the exit.

With his skill in disappearing amidst chaos, John left the nightclub unnoticed. The weight of a completed mission lingered, but he had no time to dwell on it. However, as he stepped out onto the street, a thought hit him: there was a nearby bookstore he couldn’t get out of his mind, the peaceful and welcoming atmosphere he’d felt upon entering. The memory of the young woman who had caught his attention brought a soft sigh to his lips.

He hesitated for a moment, the bookstore’s door in sight, but the memory of the mission pulled him back to reality. He decided that, for now, he should keep his distance. There were other concerns on his mind, like the consequences of what had just happened.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

On a rainy day, Mia was organizing some books on a high shelf, balancing on the tips of her toes. The late afternoon was approaching, and the sunlight filtered through the large bookstore windows, casting long golden shadows on the wooden floor. Her friend and coworker, Tom, had missed work due to illness and had sent a prior notice to the young woman. She sighed softly, distracted by the thoughts that haunted her. The bookstore, once her grandfather's refuge, now felt like a growing responsibility weighing on her shoulders. Keeping his legacy alive was important, but finances were tight, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to keep it open much longer.

Additionally, the worry about Tom tormented her. She always considered him more than just a coworker—he was a dear friend, and his absence left her uneasy. With the kindness that was characteristic of her, she thought of stopping by his house later to bring some warm tea and maybe some homemade food. A simple gesture, but one that could make all the difference on such a cold and rainy day.

When she came down the ladder, a familiar sensation took hold of her—that comforting stillness. The doorbell rang, the sound light but enough to catch her attention. She turned, and her eyes once again met the figure of the mysterious man. He was standing there, silent as always, but something in his gaze seemed different from the first time—an exhaustion, perhaps, or a heavier burden on his shoulders.

“Good afternoon! What a surprise to see you again,” she said with a soft smile. “Did something bring you back today?”

John didn’t answer immediately. He made an almost imperceptible movement with his head, as if agreeing, and began walking slowly through the aisles, running his fingers along the spines of the books. The contrast between his calm walk and the intensity he carried was almost palpable. Mia watched from her place at the counter, feeling a growing curiosity. Who was this man who appeared so unexpectedly, and why did that weary look always linger in his eyes?

Mia continued to observe him for a few moments as he wandered through the aisles, his hands lightly touching the books as if searching for something he couldn’t quite define. There was a tension in his movements, a constant vigilance, but at the same time, something about the bookstore seemed to soften him. Maybe it was the warm, welcoming atmosphere, or perhaps Mia’s presence, so different from anyone else he encountered in his routine.

She approached the counter, maintaining a respectful distance but not losing the lightness in her posture. “If you need help finding something... I’m here,” she said, her voice low, almost as if she was aware that he preferred silence.

John paused for a second, his dark eyes studying her over the books. There was no direct distrust, but a trace of caution was always present. Even so, he nodded slightly, accepting the offer without words, as if the simple act of Mia being there, offering genuine tranquility, was already something he didn’t find elsewhere.

She realized he wasn’t the type of person to open up easily, and that didn’t bother her. There was a natural calm between them, as if the silence between their few words said more than any hurried conversation could.

While he scanned the books, Mia watched from afar, organizing the pile she had finished arranging earlier. Her thoughts, which had been trapped in the difficulties she faced with the bookstore, now floated around the unexpected presence of that man. The mystery surrounding him intrigued her, but more than that, there was something about him that made her want to offer more than just a refuge.

John, sensing her gaze, finally broke the silence. “This place... seems different from the last times I was here,” he said, almost as if speaking more to himself than to her.

Mia raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment. “Maybe it’s the time of day,” she replied softly, not wanting to force an answer from him. “Or maybe you’re just seeing the place differently today.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but there was a slight nod of agreement in his eyes. She was right, and he knew it. The world outside was cold, unforgiving. But here, between books and whispers of stories he had never read, there was a small moment of peace—a breath amid the chaos he usually called life.

Their interaction was brief, almost imperceptible, but carried a depth that both recognized, even without admitting it. Mia smiled, returning to her work, respecting the silence she knew was so important to him. John, for his part, continued to walk among the shelves, more relaxed, but still alert to everything around him, as if something inside him knew that the peace found here was temporary.

As Mia continued to organize the books, the rain outside intensified, filling the bookstore’s silence with a steady and almost hypnotic rhythm. The small, cozy space became an even more welcoming refuge on days like this. Several people were scattered around the store, some sitting on comfortable sofas along the sides, immersed in their reading, others at the small coffee table, talking in low voices. The bookstore pulsed with the softness of whispers and the sound of turning pages, creating an atmosphere that warmed Mia’s heart a little more.

She discreetly watched John from behind the counter, seeing him lose himself among the shelves, his fingers brushing the spines of the books as if searching for something familiar, yet unattainable. The contrast between his presence and that of the other people was palpable—while everyone else seemed relaxed, he radiated a silent tension.

A sudden thought crossed her mind. It was a cold and wet afternoon, and although she knew he was a reserved man, perhaps a simple gesture of kindness would be welcome. She hesitated for a brief moment, wondering if it would be intrusive, but the memory of how he seemed more at ease in the bookstore encouraged her.

Without saying anything, Mia went to the back of the store, where she kept a small kitchen for herself, something she had inherited from her grandfather. Quickly, she prepared a to-go cup of coffee. The warm, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and she smiled softly, appreciating the contrast between the sound of the rain and the welcoming smell of coffee.

When Mia returned to the front of the store, she saw John sitting on one of the sofas, the book resting on the table in front of him. He was engrossed in reading, his eyes fixed on the pages, but his rigid posture revealed a constant vigilance, as if every sound around him was something to be analyzed, a possible sign of danger, even in a seemingly safe environment like the bookstore.

Mia approached carefully, holding the to-go cup with both hands. The warm, familiar aroma filled the air, a comforting reminder in contrast to the cold rain outside. As she neared the table beside John, where he had momentarily rested the book, she placed the cup on the surface gently, trying not to disturb the silence.

“I... made some coffee for you,” she said softly, almost as if offering a gift. There was a quiet kindness in her voice, something that didn’t demand anything in return. The closed cup was a practical choice, allowing him to decide what to do—whether to take it or leave it behind.

John slowly raised his gaze, the surprise in his dark eyes quickly replaced by an expression of caution. He observed the cup for a few seconds, his mind analyzing every detail of the gesture. Part of him found it curious, almost unsettling, that someone would offer something so simple without a hidden motive. In his world, where kindness often came with ulterior motives, accepting something from a stranger felt like a risk.

But at the same time, there was something different here—a touch of authenticity in Mia’s way. She didn’t seem to demand anything in return, just left the coffee as a considerate gesture, and then moved away. There was no insistence, no attempt to get closer beyond that small act. That made him hesitate.

With a controlled movement, he murmured, “Thank you.” His voice was low, carrying a near-automatic suspicion, but at the same time, there was a small spark of acknowledgment. He knew this didn’t have to be a threat, but his nature prevented him from fully letting his guard down.

Mia nodded with a small smile and returned to the counter, respecting his space, without trying to continue the conversation. She did what felt right and now left it up to him to decide what to do with the coffee.

John remained seated, looking at the cup on the table in front of him. He didn’t pick it up immediately, nor did he reject it. Instead, he continued pondering the gesture. Why would someone do that? He was used to favors coming with a price, to kindnesses masking dubious intentions. It was almost instinctive to see the coffee as something potentially risky, something he should refuse.

And yet, the warmth emanating from the cup seemed to bring a sense of comfort. It wasn’t the coffee itself, but the simplicity of the gesture, the offer of something in a world that, for him, rarely offered rest. He knew that distrust was a survival tool, but part of him—a part he rarely listened to—wanted to believe that there was nothing more behind that coffee than pure kindness.

He left the cup there for now, untouched but not forgotten. He continued reading, trying to focus on the words before him, but his mind wandered back to the cup. That small act of humanity made him uncomfortable, but because it was something so different from his reality.

John didn’t drink the coffee right away, but he knew he would take it with him when he left. He didn’t know if he would take a sip later or leave it in some corner, but the simple fact that it was there, offered so genuinely, made him reconsider, if only for a brief moment, the isolation he imposed on himself.

While the environment around continued with the soft sounds of turning pages and the pattering of rain, Mia watched from the corner of her eye, returning to her routine tasks. She understood that he was a man surrounded by shadows, but even the darkest nights have their stars.

As the afternoon passed, John finally got up, leaving a few bills on the table to cover the coffee and the book. Without looking directly at her, he left the store quietly, just as he had arrived. But something about his departure felt less cold this time, as if, little by little, he was opening up to something beyond the constant vigilance.

Next chapter!

[johnwickb1tsch]

~ Enigmatic Stranger ~ Part 3 WIP

a young!John Wick x fem!Reader roundrobin fic… by @sweetwolfcupcake , @treedaddymcpuffpuff , & @johnwickb1tsch

part 1 part 2

What's your name?

“Guess.” 

“I’m not playing the Rumplestiltskin game with you.” 

He chuckles at that. “I guess you could call me…E.S.” 

Enigmatic Stranger. Like you’d called him in the poem you wrote. He hadn’t even made fun of you for that. He’d smiled at you in the café. A small smile, filled with…sadness? And maybe…regret. 

“You’re quite the poet,” he’d told you quietly, sliding your notebook back to you across the counter. 

You’d just stared like a starstruck little idiot, still utterly mortified that he’d read your private words, no matter what praise he offered you. “You shouldn’t do that,” you’d managed to get out past the lump in your throat, your words like sandpaper. “Read other people’s things. That wasn’t meant for you.”

“Why not? It was about me, wasn’t it?”

You swipe at your stinging eyes, feeling ridiculous, and small, and you wish he would just go away, with those midnight-dark eyes that manage to look right through you. You wished he’d stop showing up like this, and making you feel things that would never come to anything. This is what men do to you. They make you feel too much, and then it’s your fault, somehow, when they disappoint you.  

He’d pressed his lips, seemingly feeling guilty about it all. “Hey. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He’d reached for your hand, brushing your fingertips before you jerked away, as though he’d burned you. 

“Stop playing games with me,” you whimper, looking down into your cup of now cold chocolate. “Please, just go.” 

He had, without another word, just a kicked puppy dog look over his shoulder. You didn’t allow yourself to believe that look in his eyes was longing.

But now…he’s here, in your apartment again. 

“John.” 

You blink. John. Just like that…this man who has been haunting you has a name. A nice, normal name. It’s almost too simple.  

“Well, John. You should go.” 

He smirks at you, standing slowly. “If you want. Lock that door, y/n.”

***

Maybe it made a difference, locking the window, and the door. Because when they finally strike, it’s on the street, in the alley near your apartment. Two goons try to grab you, but John is there like a whirlwind, breaking limbs, knocking heads. You have never seen anything like it. Not even in an action movie. The carnage is unreal. 

“Are you alright, y/n?” John demands, rushing over to you. 

You are sinking down with his strong arms around you, your vision swimming. There is blood on his handsome face–and a needle still sticking out of your arm. The fact that you’re only vaguely alarmed about this, about all of this, doesn’t bode well. 

“I’m fine,” you say, and that’s when the pinhole of your vision fades to black.

@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘

[discoscoob]

ִ ˙ ✩°˖🔥⋆｡˚ DEVIL IN BETWEEN THE SHEETS

CW: dubcon/noncon, monsterfucking, drug use… don’t judge me… 🫣

Your breath is lodged in your throat as you concentrate on keeping still while Kevin inhales the trail of white powder from between the valley of your breasts, right over your hammering heartbeat. Straddling your lower abdomen, his weight traps you against the mattress beneath you. You finally release a shuddering breath when he straightens up, throwing his head back.

“I believe it’s your turn now.” his husky purr is spoken through a wicked grin as he lowers his gaze, fixing his blown pupils upon you with unrestrained euphoria.

He rolls off your abdomen with a burst of energy through his bloodstream, eagerly preparing you a line on the bedside table. You move hesitantly as you follow him, never diverting your focus from his hyper movements.

“I’ve-” his lips are upon yours in a searing kiss, devouring your anxious words before they could be spoken. His hand engulfs your entire skull, securely cradling the back of your head to hold you in place.

“Trust me.” his warm breath fans across your lower lip as he rests his forehead against yours with an affectionate nuzzle. With the hand on the back of your skull, he nudges you towards the line he prepared.

The powder burns through your nostril on the journey to the back of your throat and you scrunch your face at the unfamiliar sensation. The sound of your sniffles echo through the dimly lit room as you rise, rubbing your fingers against the tip of your tingling nose.

Kevin’s overblown eyes glisten with approval as they vigilantly scan over your face, hunting for the tell-tale signs of the drug's effects to kick in.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he coaxes, his hands threading into your hair, his touch ignites thrills through your body, causing goosebumps to rise across your tingling skin. “Do you feel the rush, doll? The pleasure? The clarity? You’re unlocking parts of your mind you never knew existed.”

His voice surrounds you, deep and velvety, seeping into every part of your being and echoing through your mind. The vibrations from the music downstairs ripple through your chest with every beat of your racing pulse. You sink back against the silk covers, feeling them envelop you into their inviting comfort.

Kevin’s scorching hands are upon you, exploring every inch of your sensitive body, your overactive mind making you hyper aware of every grope, pinch and brush of his fingertip against your twitchy nerves.

Everything is heightened, amplified into a kaleidoscope of overwhelming sensations that penetrate and surround your body and sharpen your mind. Kevin’s grunts and growls sound like they belong to a wild beast as he thrust into you, building to a punishing pace in a primal haze to earn both your releases.

Your alert eyes snap open, immediately connecting with a glowing pair of blazing red irises and snarling pearly white fangs inches away from your flushed and sweat glistened face. Upon his head, two mighty raven black horns protrude from his skull with deadly sharp tips and the longer your inflated pupils stare the quicker the colour drains from your face until you’re covering your eyes with your hands like a frightened child.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

Kevin’s savage thrusts are unrelenting as his scorching grasp firmly surrounds your delicate wrists, prizing your hands away from your face and pinning them against the silk sheets above your head. Your eyelids remain locked shut tight, refusing to look at the beast upon you.

“Look at me.” he demands, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Reluctantly you force your eyes to flutter open, meeting the jet black pools of his darkened glare without any hint of the fiery blaze that pierced straight through you only moments earlier. Above his glistening brow, you search for the mighty horns that grew from his skull, but they’re gone and so are the razor sharp canines.

“It’s just me.” he soothes you, attempting to hush his gruff voice as the overwhelming pleasure builds inside him. Your mind swirls with your approaching release, while images of the ghastly creature linger in the back of your mind.

It was just a hallucination, right?

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

TW: NSFW, angst, possessive language, verbal violence, BDSM mention

In nothing but a towel, Ludlow strides to answer the door. You, still naked, shriek and run for the bedroom, certain there’s about to be a bit of a fucking disturbance.

“Morning, Dr. Bitch! Didn’t know you made housecalls?” Tom’s pseudo-jovial tone is nothing less than gloating. 

You stumble back out of the bedroom, at least covered by your threadbare blue paisley robe, to find Dr. Julian Mercer on your threshold bearing a massive bouquet of deep red lilies. The tension between the two men is palpable as an electrical storm, and a lump of dread lodges in your throat. The last thing you want is these two getting into a fight.

When Julian turns his sharp gaze to you, you can’t help but feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Gone is the sweet, caring doctor, something entirely more primal in his place. This is a man who perceives an interloper has touched what’s his.

“I see I’ve come at a bad time,” he says, a flash of his bottom teeth visible as he clenches his jaw.

“Nah. We were just having some breakfast. Want to join us?”

Julian takes in the remnants of the pancakes on the table, as though he can almost see exactly what you two had been up to. Well…your disheveled, half-dressed state probably said enough on its own. 

Instead of answering Tom, Julian’s eyes roll up from the messy table and lock onto your own. “Did you fuck him?” 

You are completely taken aback by the invasive, growled question, suddenly nervous and shifting on your feet. For a moment, with Julian’s intense gaze trained on you, you forget that Tom is between the two of you and that you’re safe. But, if Tom wasn’t here…you shiver at the prospect. 

Julian looks like he’s going to go full Jason Vorhees on your ass. You open your mouth to speak, but Tom cuts you off. “Don’t think that’s any of your business, Dr. Bitch, but if you must know..” 

“Tom,” you say quietly, encouraging him to shut the fuck up and stay out of this. 

Instead of pouncing across the room and sinking his teeth into your carotid, Julian sighs, his face drooping just like the sad flowers at his side, and shakes his head. “I understand.” 

Why do you always end up feeling like an asshole at the end of these debacles? Maybe it’s because you are the asshole. By the way Julian looks right now, it certainly seems like it. 

“Oh, poor thing.” Tom rubs salt in the wound. “Cry me a river.” He turns to you. “Are you really gonna fall for this crap?” 

“Tom…” You try again, but it falls on deaf ears.

“There, there, Dr. Bitch Boy, you’ll surely find someone else who is dumb enough to let you tie them up and hurt them. Consensually! Mustn’t forget the fine fucking print…” 

“You know,” Julian says, twirling the bouquet stem in his long fingers, dripping dew on the doorstep. “It’s a safe, rewarding practice between two mature adults. But, I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, Officer Ludlow.” 

Tom chuckles. “Oh, wouldn’t I? Some of us can tie a woman up and make her scream without inflicting pain.” 

Julian looks, immediately, to your wrists, where sure enough there are still discolored leather marks marring your skin. He stares at you like you just kicked his puppy except the puppy is actually him. You wish you could be a bitch for once and not care, but you’re just a softy like always, staring back with what you hope reads as an apology written on your face. 

Julian looks back at Tom, expression changing drastically into something dark. “There are marks on her pretty skin.” 

“Uh huh,” Tom agrees. 

Julian, the fucking idiot, steps up to Tom, and you instinctually nudge yourself between them. You know how this ends, although you’ve never been on the receiving end of a testosterone tug of war; you’ve seen plenty of friends and relatives go through it. You put a spread palm on Julian’s chest, and look up at him. “Julian..” 

You can feel Tom’s wayward grin behind you. 

“You should be careful, y/n. This ogre is going to hurt you. You should stick with someone who actually knows what he’s doing.”

“I think we did just fine,” snipes Tom. “And we’re going to do it again too! Thanks for stopping by!” That is when Tom bodily lifts you out of the way to slam the door in Julian’s face.

A second later you hear your poor neighbor peeking out. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s just fine, ma’am, so sorry,” you hear Julian answer. “Here. I want you to have these.”

In your mind’s eye, you can just see Julian, chivalrous and well mannered, handing Mrs. Thompson the beautiful bouquet.

“Oh! What a nice young man you are!”

If only Mrs. Thompson knew. 

“Tom, I’d rather not have Julian know about this…” you gesture between the two of you. 

He leans on the doorframe, probably to shut off your rational brain again because that’s what happens, and cocks his eyebrow. “You’re just planning on keeping me a dirty little secret?” 

“What? No. That’s not what I mean. I just don’t want him to know the details.” You cross your arms over your chest without really meaning to, and you know he picks up on the hostility. “Jesus, you just like, shouted everything right down the hall.”

You look at your wrists, the faint red marks. You can’t help but think on what Tom said with such taunting venom. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, head tilting. “No.” 

“You said..” you take a minute to collect yourself. “You said that he would have to find someone else dumb enough to let him tie them up.” 

Tom skips right past your point, eyes narrowing. “You let him tie you up?” 

“Once? Sort of? But he freaked me out, so I asked him to stop. And he did.”

The look on Tom’s face is pure fury. “That little fucker could have done anything to you!”

The fact that Tom seems to think you are incapable of taking care of yourself only adds gas to your own burner.

“Look. I know you don’t like him, but he’s not a criminal because of what he likes, ok? Something…happened to him. He can’t fucking help it.”

“Yeah, I bet. Baby, I see this all the time in my job. These assholes are master manipulators, and they always have a fucking excuse. Oh my nanny touched me so I do terrible things. Bad shit happens to all of us. It doesn’t give anyone a fucking pass to hurt other people. You are so sweet and pretty and good…God. You are just the sort of soft little treat these guys live to gobble up.”

“I’m not a child, Tom. I obviously know there are bad men.” You’d certainly met your fair share of them. “You’re treating me like I’m an idiot. Julian stopped when I asked him too.” 

“And what if he doesn’t the next time? What if he keeps going? What if he hurts you?” He sounds like all those things would affect him more than they would you. 

Your knee jerk response spills from your lips before you can even think about it. “I don’t need you to protect me.” Even if this is exactly what you want, what you’ve always wanted, deep down. 

“Well that’s too bad, sweetheart, because I’m gonna. I’m not going to let anyone ever hurt you.” It’s not fair, the flood of warmth this inspires. From your head to your toes, and it feels so good you know you can’t trust it. Because when he inevitably breaks this promise, like all men do–it will destroy you. 

The moment shatters slightly when he can’t help but add, “Especially not Doctor Dumbass. What do you even see in him?” 

A part of you is so annoyed you’re even having this conversation, you can’t help but needle him. “Tall, handsome, single doctor who actually has manners. Silly me.” 

By the way Tom’s eyes narrow, you know the arrow hit home–and you kind of hate yourself for it. “It’s all a mask, honey. I’ve seen it a hundred times before. It’s a mistake to trust that guy.”

For a moment it jars you, that Tom is basically implying you’re going to sleep with him and Julian at the same time and potentially hurt them both, which means he thinks that lowly of you—he’s also saying, again, that you are too dumb to see through Julian’s “mask”. It makes anger flare inside of you, hot and bright. “Then I guess that's my mistake to live with.”  

You don’t really notice he’s inching toward you until you have to crane your neck a little bit to look up at him. The message in his dark eyes reads consuming, angry, possessive. A thrill perks every hair on your body. “Then I guess I’ll just have to convince you not to make mistakes.” 

“And how are you going to do that?” You ask, rolling your eyes, more than a little annoyed at this overt sideshow of the ol masculine who’s dick is bigger. 

He tucks a loc of hair behind your ear. “By fucking you so often you forget Dr. Bitch exists.” 

You don’t absolutely hate the sound of that, too-empty cunt giving a painful throb, toes scrunching up as that wickedly warm sensation travels from face, clavicle, chest, and then down your entire body, soaking you in lust. In this moment, you remember why you can’t fucking stand Tom Ludlow: because he is everything you need, everything you want, all wrapped up in a tall, laviscious package delivered right at your doorstep. 

A part of you wants to tell him that you don’t want anyone else but him–and a part of you would literally rather die than hand him your heart on a platter like that.

Worse yet, you’re afraid he can practically see the conflict warring in you. He sees too much, with those hawk-sharp obsidian orbs, cutting into you without mercy. He moves closer still, caging you against the wall with his corded arms on either side of you, his muscled torso that may as well be a brick wall, for all the luck you would have pushing past it. “How many times I gotta tell you, baby?” he says, his voice low, steel cased in velvet. “That I want you to be mine?”

He should be menacing, but this beast of a man leaning over you just fills you with need. You don’t know where you get the courage or the cheek to answer, except maybe it’s your lady parts finally getting their say, “You like to talk a lot, Tom Ludlow. Maybe you’d better show me?”  

He drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling at your feet, looking up almost reverently like you’re some sort of diamond encrusted statue of his chosen faith. He listens so well, silent as a mime, pressing his face into the thin robe over your rib cage, nuzzling and inhaling. Taking you in as if he means to memorize the smell of you. 

Deft fingers unwrap the tie at your waist, and he presses the lapels of your robe open with flat palms, guiding his warm skin along your own—the tender, soft stretch of your stomach. You shiver pleasantly when his grip lands to cup the curve of your waist and he kisses your bare skin, soft and wet and sigh worthy. 

Suddenly all you want in the world, is to lay this man out in your bed, and maybe never leave it. Why did Julian have to pop your perfect little bubble you’d so happily been in together? You try to move, wanting to take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, but he pins you against the wall with one of those big hands over your belly. 

“Tom…”

You kind of hate this, in the light of day, how he can still turn you into a needy, whiny bundle of nerves and weakened flesh, with zero self-respect. Every inch of your treacherous skin sings out that you do belong to him.  

“I know, sweetheart,” he says against the dip of your hip, and somehow this does soothe you. “But I’m about to get to the best part…” He tickles the curls of your mound with the tip of his nose, before nuzzling in to lick your aching slit. Your knees nearly buckle; if not for his strong hands on you, you absolutely would have melted into a puddle on the floor. 

“Fuck. Wait…”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles against you, tasting you again. “Take it like a good girl, y/n. I didn’t get to finish my breakfast.” 

He savors your taste for only a moment before becoming the man starved, pressing his face into the valley of your cunt and drinking from you like you’re the last spring of water in a dry desert. He pins you to the wall with bruising force as you and your pussy sob on his mouth, holding your lower half steady, lifting you almost off your toes, while your upper half claws and thrashes and pulls and probably leaves ugly marks in his tawny skin.

You try to say something, but it comes out as gibberish, a jumble of yesyesnonopleasejesusfuck. Too quickly, you near that release of clenched muscle, the symphony of your undoing, and he needs to slow down or—

He latches onto your clit with his mouth and sucks, tearing something more than an orgasm out of you. Something that makes you see crackling black stars, makes drool run down your face, makes a scream that will remind your neighbor of night terrors. 

Your legs do give out, but it doesn’t matter, because he lifts you in his arms and impales you against the wall, just in time to catch the last fluttering spasms of your release. He gives you no chance to recover, thrusting into you with his mouth latched to yours, devouring you with furious kisses and ruining you with his unrelenting cock. He does not stop until you cum again, almost against your will, or at least, in spite of yourself. It is as though he knows things about your body that you never fathomed possible on your own, knows just how to angle his hips to hit your gspot every single time. You’ve never been able to cum with just penetration alone, but his girth and curve and wicked skill combined make his cock a forceful weapon built for your cunt’s destruction. 

You cling to his broad shoulders like a limpet as he carries you into your bohemian nest of a bedroom, falling down amongst the colorful pillows, still inside you. Here on the soft mattress he takes you slowly, looking into your eyes and every time you try to close them, desperate for some reprieve from the intensity of it all, he demands your full attention again with his big hand on the side of your face. “I want you to know exactly who’s fucking you so good,” he tells you without a shred of humility, hooking your leg over his hip with a hand on your thigh, so that he can go even deeper. 

“As if I could forget,” you pant, the first real sentence you’ve managed since the start of this maelstrom. 

This makes him smile down at you, though there is a sharp edge to it. “Good. Because you’re mine now, baby girl. Don’t you ever forget it.” He does not even think about pursuing his own release until you’ve given it up one more time, with his filthy mouth working magic on your nipples and his hand between your legs plucking at you clit while he fills you. Only once you cum on his cock again does he let himself go right with you, and you see how close to the edge the entire time he’d been. 

Breathless in the afterglow, you lay in his arms as he traces the curve of your shoulder with his fingertips, lifting the fine hairs all over your body. It makes you shudder against him for the umpteenth time, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. The divot in his shoulder, that feels like it was made just for you. He smiles down at you, smug, yet somehow also soft, his lips on your forehead making a slow warmth lick through you from head to toe. 

“You’re tickling me,” you teasingly complain as he makes the gooseflesh rise again. 

“Just you wait.”

JesusfuckingchristIcannoteven…

Maybe you say it aloud, because he rolls over you with a wolfish smile, sweeping your hair out of your face as he sits up over you on his elbows. “Tom…” you pant, worried that he, in fact, is going to rock your world all over again. You don’t think you’ll survive it.

“I wear you out, sweet girl?”

You giggle underneath him, hooking your leg over his. “For now.”

“Good.” Again, that warm smile that makes you feel like you have fireworks lighting off through your veins. “You gonna think about me tonight?”

You wonder if he’s worried about you going to work–with Julian.

“Every time I try to sit down.” He loves this answer, his smile widening to an all out toothsome grin. Men. 

You don’t even know how you’re going to make it through your shift, because you’re fairly sure you’re never going to walk right again. 

He kisses you in one of those sloppy, wet, noisy, toe cramping kisses that he loves to give, and then lays his sweaty head on your chest. “What was Kansas like?” 

You giggle, running your fingers through his short, damp hair, loving the little shiver that you get from the feel of his strands on your sensitive fingertips. “Lots of farm fields and more cows than people.” 

He shakes you with his laugh. “And? Anything you liked about it?”  

You think back for a moment, to all the painful bruised memories of your childhood. “Our neighbor had a sunflower field. They were beautiful. We loved to climb her fence and run through it in the evening, get lost in the wonderful earthy smell.” You close your eyes, remember your sister's rare happy faces, remember falling in a giggling heap when you’d crash into each other, blinded by the tall maze of thick stems. 

He smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, y/n.”

“Ah, that’s not true,” you tease. “There are a million other me’s.” 

His fingers dig into your side momentarily without warning, making you squeal and writhe. “Are they ticklish, though?” He muses.

“Stop it.” You bring his hand to your mouth and kiss his palm. “I have to take a shower.” 

“What a coincidence, me too.”

“Are you going to behave yourself?” You ask him, grinning at the faux innocence in his eyes. 

“Scout’s honor.” 

You’re very right about the whole ‘not walking the same’ thing. Tom insists he has to carry you into the bathroom for your safety because of how wobbly you are when you stand. It fills you with rejuvenated heat, the way he lifts you like you’re a small, precious thing and lays a juicy kiss on your forehead. 

“Bath or shower?” He asks, turning on your tap while you lean on the sink. “Probably shower, right? Fucking like rabbits on top of a bath is a recipe for disaster.” 

“Are you trying to impress me?” You ask him, unashamed of your eyes being consistently glued to the bare, lean muscles of his back and ass. You are only half talking about his knowledge of female hygiene. 

“A little.” 

“It’s working.” 

“Goody.” He grins at you over his shoulder, testing the water on his wrist as if he’s about to bathe a skittish cat. “I think I have it at a temp you’ll like.” 

He leads you into the shower with a steady arm around your waist, making sure that you step in and out without faltering, tugging you firmly against him while the warm water heats your conjoined bodies. He’s half hard again, pressed against your back, and it makes you giggle. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even think my teenage boyfriend had this much stamina.”

“Your teenage boyfriend ain’t got nothin on me,” he teases, kissing your temple. 

“No, Sam certainly doesn’t hold a candle to you, Tom.” 

He insists on washing your hair for you, and his big fingers are absolute heaven for the scalp. You even groan a few times in pleasure as he massages and lathers. “That is cosmic,” you tell him, resting your weight on his chest. Once again, you wonder what would inspire any woman to cheat on this delectable man behind you. 

“Want me to do the rest?” He asks while he smooths the soapy water out of your ends. 

“You first,” you tell him, maneuvering around so that you can wash him. 

“How can I refuse?” He asks, leaning down to kiss you. 

You grab a couple pumps of your sensitive skin body wash, not wanting him to break out in case of allergies, and start on his chest. You haven’t really gotten a chance to feel his body, yet. Sure, you’ve seen enough to last you many nights and then some, but touching is a different story; he’s planes of mahogany, slick, rocky lake floor, one long sensory buffet for your fingers to touch and squeeze and rub. 

His hands on each side of your waist tighten as you get lower, and once you’re at his hips his cock is standing hard and proud. You can’t help but grip the length in your fist and get him nice and lathered, tease him with soft touches that make his breath hitch and heighten. “Does that feel good?” You ask him, staring up through your eyelashes at his heady expression. 

“Amazing,” he grits, cock pumping into your hand a little bit of its own accord. “Think it’s my turn, though.” 

Terrorize Tom Ludlow, expect to get it back times ten. That’s what you’re starting to learn as he runs frictionless fingers over your nipples, makes you twitch and squirm and whine. The soapy lather adds an extra sensation to his touch, something that has you needy and wanting again in no time at all. You arch against him when he follows the path of running water down your stomach, over the mound of your cunt. “Does that feel good?” He mimics, grinning against your soaked hairline. 

“Fuuuck,” is all you can answer at the moment, your every nerve ending a slave to his hands. This man is going to be the death of you.  

“Your filthy fucking mouth,” he teases, and you can feel him grinning against you, the imp of satan that he is. It’s completely not fair, and you reach for him again, pumping him in time to his magical fingers sliding against your slit. 

“Oh,” he groans, bracing himself against the wall, caging you in, and you feel some satisfaction that at least you are not the only one going to pieces again. He catches your mouth in a sultry wet kiss, his thick fingers circling your clit. He’s slowing down, and you make a sound like an angry kitten against his lips. 

“What’s wrong baby?”

“You…are an evil man.”

“Me?” He is still grinning, but it's strained at the edges now. 

“Diabolical.”

“Mmm.”

“A menace.” 

He laughs, a grating sound that ends in another moan as you stroke his impressive length from root to tip, his girth utterly filling your hand, circling the contours of his glans with your thumb. You’re not sure if it’s really ten inches–all you know that he is your perfect fit. However, a part of you is grateful you’re not doing that right now–even just hands is almost more than you can stand. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, his forehead pressed to the top of your head as you touch each other in rhythm. He’s sped up to meet you again, almost as though he can’t help but move in time with you, the way you both seem to have a knack for finding the right timing together. There is something special in that, you know. Something cosmic, something terrifying if you think about it too much. So you’re not going to think about it now. You’re just going to feel, and let this man have his way with you for the umpteenth time in the past twenty four hours. You really have lost track. 

“I need you to cum for me, beautiful,” he says—not want, but need. Needs you to cum for him. Like he needs to breathe air and eat food and wear sunscreen. 

Both of you falter a little, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but it doesn’t matter because even the simplest touch, stroke, rub has you both spasming in the other’s hand. He spills over your belly, and the water washes it off your skin in pearly rills. You collapse against him, smiling, chafed and sore and aching but never happier. “Wait,” you say quietly. “Thought you said you’d behave? Scouts honor?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t in the Boy Scouts.” 

[ficsbb]

Sleep (Final)

》 Pairing: John Constantine x MascFem!Reader

》 Word Count: 2.6k

Note: Final part of Sleep! I adjusted pov, so you get more internal thoughts on Constantine and I have to say...I enjoyed writing it this way. Apologies for any mistakes with tenses, spelling, grammar etc. Enjoy!

The shift of Constantine’s body stirs you awake. You’re bleary-eyed and instinctively reach out to him, hand landing on warm skin. In the early days, you worried over disturbing him that way, conscious of how his eyes would flit about looking any other way but yours. It was obvious that intimacy was foreign for him, few, far between and then, completely forgotten.

Of course, until you met each other.

Constantine would find himself walking closer alongside you whenever he called you out to meet at a diner either early mornings or late nights. He had your order memorized before long, and it would be ready by the time you showed up. The small smile that would creep up on your face as you walked closer to the booth made something stir in him. He didn’t know what it was then. Only that it satisfied him more than any drag from a cigarette ever did. It started as a low thrumming in the pit of his stomach that slowly wound its way to the center of his chest. Every order pushed him closer to the edge.

“You okay?” The softness of your voice brings him back into himself. He makes a low grunt, taking your hand in his, absentmindedly following the lines of your palm as he moves closer to you. Constantine doesn’t answer right away, just sighs and stretches before turning to face you. His silence doesn’t bother you. It never did, really. This is where you both stood on the same ground. Sitting in peaceful bliss, tuning into the sounds around you harmonizing; making music just for the two of you to make sense of.

Your body is half in and out of the blankets. An old trusty fan whirring in the corner of the room makes the window curtain sway in rhythm. It’s already nighttime, and with every sway of the curtain, the full moon casts a shadow onto his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask again, insistent. He rolls his eyes playfully and nods, “Yeah.” You laugh a little, and he smiles at the sight of it. He can remember the first time you laughed at something he said. It was loud and obnoxious, and it seemed to have bounced off the tiles in his kitchen in a way that scratched the part of his brain where every cell of satisfaction was housed. It pulled and twisted at him with fiery bursts of warmth that scared the absolute shit out of him. Before he knew it, there was another sound accompanying yours, and it took him much too long to figure out it was his own laugh escaping him; rough and deep pouring out of his throat.

“If you really want, I’ll stay behind this time.” You get to the point, much too tired to pretend not to know what’s wrong with him. You can feel his body suddenly tense as he squeezes your hand in his.

“It’s not that I don’t want you with me. I do. I always want you with me.” You hold your breath, afraid any sudden movement might make him clam up and retreat back into his shell. Constantine doesn’t look at you. He continues to follow the lines of your palm, eyebrows furrowed, frowning. To anyone else, he would seem to be utterly frustrated and angry, but you know what this is. You know there is something sharp trying to claw its way out of his mouth, and he’s fighting to swallow it back down out of habit.

“I can’t lose you.” He whispers, and there it is. His chest is rising and falling semi rapidly. The air is thick and heavy with his fear and love and cynicism all rolled into a cloud swirling above him, reaching out to choke him.

“You won’t lose me, Constantine.”

“You don't know that. You don't.” He suddenly shifts onto his back, the moon now highlighting the tufts of hair near his belly button. There are scars riddling his body, many across his stomach and sides. Deep gashes that healed crudely over time. A few are raised when you pass over them, and every time you see them, you wonder how he has managed to survive for this long.

“No. I don’t, but I want to be your backup. I can help you. I love to be able to help you.” The cadence of your voice centers him. That swirling cloud of fear follows the current of air being pushed around the room by the fan in the corner and dissipates. He sighs out loud.

“You keep saying that as if you’re not helpful when you’re in the library.”

“Constantine-”

“I refuse to lose you. Don’t you understand? You are m-my life.” He sits up, losing his balance slightly; his back colliding with the headboard harder than he probably meant to. He runs one hand in his hair, roughly, and you sit up with him. You feel the panicked vibration through the skin of his thigh when your hand lands there.

“I am?” Constantine looks pained when you ask him that question. He starts to go through every touch of your hand on his body, the soft whispery kisses you have given him on the top of his eyelids while he was deep inside of you. How could you not know? Did he not show you enough?

“Of course you are.” He takes your hand and puts it to his lips, kissing you softly right in the center and then places it on his chest. The way he looks at you, then, with hooded eyes, lips parted and pink, your heart lurches out toward him. “I’m sorry you have to even question that.” He brings your hand to his lips again for a quick kiss and motions you to come closer and lay your legs over his. You do, without hesitation, you do.

“I don’t want to lose you either. I know you can handle yourself, you’ve been doing it for years without me but,” you sigh and look in his eyes, “I want to know I’ve done everything in my power to make sure you come back home to me. That we come back home with each other.” Constantine feels his heart skip a beat, the next big thumping pound in his chest jolting. Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears, and he can say for certain, without a shadow of a doubt that-

“I am in love with you.” He says, the words shooting out of his mouth hurriedly, impatient, and bent at the corners. Your intake of breath worries him for a second, but he doesn’t have time to think about it more because your lips are on his. They’re familiar and soft and warm against his. Your mind is whirling with what this really means. How it means that even though you have parts of yourself you wish you could change or how you’ve worried that you weren’t a pretty little thing made of porcelain, he’s in love with you all the same. When you part, all there is is quiet breathing back and forth between you both.

“Do you remember the first time you called me for a job?” Constantine laughs, head tipped back, and you watch the movement in his throat, committing the sound to memory.

“How could I forget? To this day, I don’t know how we ended up in that abandoned cabin.”

“Me either, but we were hiding out for a while, and it started to rain.” He sucks his teeth when you mention it, remembering that it took forever to get that smell of rain mixed in with musty cabin out from his coat.

“There were so many holes in the roof, I’m surprised we could find a decent spot in there.” You laugh, nodding along.

“But we did,” he grunts in response, “and I recall at some point in the night I was getting tired and you seemed to have noticed because the next thing I know, you took off your coat and folded it up as best as you could and placed it on your lap,” you shake your head thinking of it, “and I was confused by that. So confused.”

Constantine watches you pause mid telling. He notices this shine in your eyes, and when your eyelashes flutter as you look up at him, he thinks - no, he knows his heart stops right then.

“Without saying a word, you nudged me to come closer to you, almost like how we are now, and motioned me to lay my head on your lap and I did-” You whisper the next part, realizing, “I hadn’t been able to get a proper night’s rest until that night. And I knew then that I would always love you, Constantine.”

He could never possibly define the emotion that swells within him. It’s akin to looking up at the sky and feeling the spotlight of warmth from the sun setting just on you and no one else. How the light streams through the trees and catches only you and no one else. There’s always that sharp bite gnawing at him, wanting to keep that feeling from getting close, but all he needs to do is bring your name to his lips and it falls away; the points of the teeth dulling and retreating.

“Come with me.” You look at him confused as he moves your legs gently and gets out of bed. The way the blanket falls away from his body is sultry and distracting, but the sound of his feet as he walks over to you brings you back to focus.

“Where to?” You sit up straighter, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He goes into your shared closet and begins to rummage through things. You’re curiously watching him, but get out of bed and grab your nearest flannel. There’s a comfortable chill in the air as you reach over to your bedside table and turn the lamp on.

You watch him turn around with a couple of towels and a few other things stacked on top of them. You turn your head to the side, and he wonders if you could be any more beautiful.

“A warm bath should help your injury some more.” You don’t have time to say anything else as he walks out of the room. You look over at the clock and see it’s 2:35 a.m. You shrug and follow him, as you always do.

—

The bath is already running when you walk in. He’s brought a chair over from the kitchen to sit while he runs his fingers to make sure the water isn’t scalding. He knows it’s late. He knows that he wants to get back in bed with you as soon as possible so your warmth is marred into his side, but after hearing that you love him back, he wants nothing more than to take care of you like this.

“A bath?”

“Yes, a bath.”

“Hm, okay.” You go to take your flannel off, but Constantine moves behind you and takes over. His breath is at the nape of your neck, and you’re almost embarrassed that he has most certainly noticed the goosebumps that have risen over your skin.

“Let me.” You feel yourself begin to unpack, unfold in front him with every article of clothing he strips you of softly and slowly, delicately. You’re not usually seen as delicate, but with the ways Constantine regards you in touch and in words, you are to him, and that’s all that matters.

When you step in the tub and lay down, he sifts through the water with his hands. It’s quiet apart from that and the sounds of the chair as he moves.

“How is it?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

“Of course.” He watches you sink yourself completely and come up, hands wiping at your face to get the water away from your eyes. A part of him wants to slide in with you, but for tonight all he craves is to make sure you never question how he feels about you. Craves? It’s so strange to him still, this kind of need that makes his fingers itch to touch you all the time. If he were to be blindfolded and made to find you in a sea of people, he would know the feel and scent of your skin apart from everyone else, every time.

“So,” You begin, “may I?” He rings the water out of a cloth and begins to soap it up.

“May you what?”

“May I come with you next time?” The question makes a chuckle come out of him and he shakes his head as he starts to run the cloth over your arm, the suds making that foamy popping sound you’ve always loved.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“But you love me still, so.” You shrug and he can’t argue with that at all. It’s why he loves you, actually.

“The client wants me- us to meet him at the Vatican in a couple of days. Flights are booked.” You look at him, eyebrows raised.

“Like, the Vatican?”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I asked, but yeah.”

“And you were thinking of going without me?” He doesn’t have time to block the puff of soapy suds that land on his face. Your laugh gets louder when he sputters and wipes at his mouth.

“Play nice!” Your laugh turns to giggles. He continues to bathe you, scrubbing away at your arms, neck, and chest. When he gets to your breasts and a soft sigh escapes from your lips, he knows that the need to have you back in bed increases exponentially.

After a while, the silence hovers over the both of you comfortably. You feel your eyelids growing heavier with every passing minute.

“Ready?” Constantine’s voice feels far away, softly making its way to you like it's a secret you both share. You turn over and look up at him, wanting to sit in this moment for a bit longer. He’s leaned down toward you, hair disheveled, voice full of sleep.

“I’m ready, Constantine.” He feels his heart come up his throat, trying to bound its way out of his mouth to present to you as a gift. His life at your hands, beating and pumping only for you. How can this happen to someone like him? How? But he remembers that angels exist, demons too, but here you were given to him, a light swallowing him whole, and he’s letting you.

“I love you,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“And I love you.” Your hands are wet as they trace the lines of his lips. He doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, just smiles and helps you out of the tub.

Before long you’re both back in bed. Back in each others warmth, limbs tangled underneath the blankets you share. The old trusty fan is still whirring in the corner of the room, making the curtain sway in rhythm. You’re lying on his chest, his heartbeat syncing up with yours. You feel his hand on your head, fingers lightly scratching at your scalp. You’re asleep before him, almost always are. He knows this by your breathing pattern, and it calms him to know you’re safe tucked away in this apartment with him.

Constantine doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know how you get the information you’re able to get so fast when he needs it. He doesn’t know why he was born into a life like this and why he accepted it without question, but he knows one thing, though.

If ever he were posed the question, “Do you want to try again?” at any point in his life, he would say,"No." He doesn’t need to. Every time you look up at him with those eyes, he knows this is what it will forever be.

A new life, that always starts and ends with you.

[keanusbabydoll]

//YOURS//

paring: step-dad!johnwick x f!reader

warnings: 18+ content, smut, inappropriate relationship, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, degrading, slight spanking, aftercare, big age gap (reader is 18, john is in his early 40s), sexual harassment, mean!john, mentions alcohol, drinking, swearing, porn with plot, overstimulation

A/N: i literally saw keanu reeves at a concert i was literally in the first row so i HAD to finally write about him. he’s just so fucking hot!!! AND this is my first post, so i’m kinda nervy, also english isn’t my first language so im already apologizing if there are any mistakes.

it’s friday night. and that means one thing. y/n’s mother will leave for vacation with her friends for the weekend. she would lie if she would say she isn’t excited. because she definitely is, as she’ll be alone with her stepfather, john.

oh john. his charming kind, hot trained body, veiny arms and his long raven hair. he’s the most handsome man she’s ever laid her eyes onto. the only thing stopping her from making a move on him is that he’s married to her mother. and that honestly upsets her so much. the way she wants him to fuck her so bad is unholy. the things she imagines about him drive her insane and makes her want him even more.

but practically it’s no use. john’s a loyal guy. he would never dare to betray y/n‘s mother. he’s had a rough past concerning his job and sadly his wife died… all that somehow toughened him up and made him a better person who would never fall again for the cruelty of the world and certainly wouldn’t harm a innocent person ever again. an innocent person like his current wife.

however, sometimes there where situations where he acted differently towards y/n. one time john and y/n attended a wedding of john’s best friend without her mother because she was sick. that day she caught him staring at her body, only dressed in a short black dress, way too long. the way he gripped her waist tightly and pulled her closer to him when he asked her for a dance. even complimented her on how perfect she was looking. she still remembers how good his touch felt on her body, how right it felt. but nothing more than these little things ever happened. and besides that she honestly feels really bad towards her mom. she’s lusting over her own mother’s husband and that’s very deep. the girl actually hates herself for feeling that way but she also can’t just avoid her feelings. it doesn’t work. she tried multiple times to suppress them but her love for her stepdad just grew even more.

anyway, here they are saying their goodbyes to her mom. "bye sweetheart, i love you.” her mother chirps and gives her a peck on the cheek.

"love you more and have fun!” she replies and gives her a last hug.

her mother turns to john and kisses him passionately. as they pull away her stepdad smiles at her mother lovingly. a peng of jealousy shoots through y/n and she turns away, not wanting to face them any longer. "take care darling.”

"i will. you take care of y/n ok? and don’t let her go to that party today, not after what she pulled at the last one.” the woman retorts but whispers the last part making y/n’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"well then, see you on monday.” her mom waves them goodbye and gets into her friends car.

john and the girl wave her until she drives off. she turns to look at him before walking inside the house again. as she goes up the stairs she can hear him lock the door and walking to the living room.

now her time alone with john finally starts. she couldn’t feel more excited and can’t wait to spend that time with him. but before any of that can happen, she’ll go to a party today. her best friend hailey hosts it and practically everyone is there as it’s the end of the semester and all the students just want to party, drink and forget about that hell of a school year.

y/n goes up to her closet and starts to look through her clothes. she definitely wants to dress a little more extra tonight. maybe a cute little top and a short skirt? the girl rummages in the stack of shirts and pulls out a black top with tiny straps, cutout and rhinestones placed all over it. just as she wants to look for a skirt, she hears her phone ring.

the sound of “smells like teen spirit” echoes in the room and she quickly runs over to her bed and grabs her phone.

hailey.

the girl picks up and clamps it between her ear and shoulder.

"hey babe ‘sup.” she happily greets her friend and gets back to her wardrobe.

"hey doll, just wanted to ask if you’d like to come earlier to help me with preparing everything?” the girl on the other line asks.

a smile appears on y/n’s face. "yeah of course, when exactly?”

"i’d say 20 minutes?”

"20 minutes? oh god i still have to pick an outfit and do my makeup!” she exclaims and pulls out the shortest skirt she can find. a blue bleached one, her favorite actually.

“well then, get going! should i pick you up?” hailey says.

"uhm, no. i’ll ask john. he has nothing to do anyway.” she responds while getting dressed.

"perfect. see you in 20.” her best friend chirps before hanging up.

the girl quickly goes over to her dressing table and starts with her makeup.

after 15 minutes she’s done and gets to her closet again. she grabs her favorite purse and puts in all the stuff she’ll need for tonight. finished with that she picks up her phone and makes her way down. y/n spots john sitting in the living room watching a movie.

"hey john.”

his eyes wander up and down her dolled up form and he furrows his eyebrows.

"and where do you thing you’re going dressed like a fucking hooker?” he almost growls and sits up.

her mouth opens at his offensive words. "uhm- i’m not dressed like a hooker? and to hailey’s party. wanted to ask if you could drive me.” she points out as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"you young lady aren’t going anywhere.”

"what?! why not?” she squeals out in anger.

“your mother said no. so you won’t be going.” john reminds her and leans back again, focusing on the tv.

“i thought you were the cool parent, you always let me go out.”

he just gives her a side eye in reply before continuing to stare at the tv.

"ugh! come on john! she’ll never know, i promise i’ll keep my mouth shut.” the girl begs him as she sends him the best puppy eyes she’s got.

"y/n, i said no.” he hisses at her, not bothering to look at her.

"please john! i beg you. everyone’s there!”

"i don’t give a fuck if everyone’s there. you won’t be.” his tone getting harsher and harsher by second.

"what the fuck john. god please, just this one time!” she almost cry’s, not planning to stop on trying to change his mind.

"shut your fucking mouth and go to your room! i don’t want to hear a single word from you anymore tonight.” the man suddenly yells at her, the palm of his hands hitting the couch aggressively.

the girl flinches at his sudden change of behavior and takes a small step back. she looks at him with widened eyes, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.

y/n hates it when he’s mean towards her, but screaming at her breaks her. he’s never screamed at her like that before, shocking her totally. he’s always been really chill with things like going out or smoking for example. but that action now truly surprises her, hot tears are already prickling in the corner of her eyes.

"what the fuck are you waiting for. i said go to your room.” the man spits and shakes his head disappointingly.

"fuck you john.” she whispers under her breath before quickly vanishing up the stairs.

she throws her door closed with a loud thud and presses her back against it. multiple tears start to stream down her face and she slides down getting into a sitting position. why is he suddenly like that? he’s never been like that before. never.

she wipes her tears forcefully away before reaching into her bag, grabbing her phone.

she calls hailey feeling really bad for her, now that she can’t go to her party. it was really important for hailey that she would come to her party. simply because she’s her best friend. and now that she isn’t fucking allowed to go, she just feels miserable.

"y/n? where are you, i’ve already started with mixing the drinks.” her best friend on the line exclaims.

"hailey… there’s a huge problem.” she mumbles, voice cracked from crying.

"oh no what’s wrong babe, are you crying?”

"yeah cause that fucking dickhead is just so ugh- a dickhead.” she hears a faint chuckle from hailey, making her grin as well.

“so you know that mom’s away for the weekend and that i’m alone with john.”

"yes.”

"well, john doesn’t let me go to your party.” she mutters and wipes her nose.

"oh nooo, what the fuck? i thought he was chill.” hailey points out with a gasp.

"literally. that’s what i thought too. god i don’t know what do to. i really want to come, you know that.”

"hmm, let me think.”

y/n gets up and makes her way to her mirror, checking on her makeup.

"duh, what if you just sneak out and i’ll pick you up then.” her best friend requests.

sneaking out while being alone with john? surely a really really bad idea. he’s already mad at her.

"fuck hailey, i don’t know. i don’t think that this is a good idea, john would kill me after the action earlier.”

"oh my god, fuck him. he’s not your daddy, to just decide that you won’t come to my party. honestly girl.” the girl on the other line snarls.

actually she’s right. who is he to demand her around like some little girl. she’s 18 and can certainly decide for herself. if he’s acting up like that then she can do it too.

"you know what? yeah, fuck him. you can already start driving, i’ll just climb out of the window.” anger washing through her whole body. oh she’s so definitely going to sneak out. he’ll never find out.

"fuck yes girl! that’s what i wanted to hear!” her bestie cheers making her chuckle.

"perfect. i’ll get out now okay?”

"on my way.”

and with that she hangs up the call. she checks her make up one last time before sliding on her black chucks and making her way towards her window. thank god it’s already dark outside, this makes everything just way easier. the girl slowly opens the window, not wanting to make any noise. she raises her right leg and swings it out of the window. with a quick glance down she places her foot on the roof and carefully steps out completely. fortunately, her room is only on the first floor, so the height is not too huge.

y/n kneels down and holds on tight to the edge of the roof. she closes her eyes for a short moment and lets out a sigh before she slowly lowers herself down. hanging on the roof, she swings back as she loosens her grip and lands perfectly on her feet. as soon as she’s down she bends over and hastily runs a few meters away from her house, not wanting to risk anything in case john would look out of the window.

a long sigh of relief escapes her mouth as she stops two houses away from hers.

thank god everything went good and john didn’t notice. a smile spreads across her face as she sees a black mercedes pull up right in front of her.

•••❦•••

almost three hours passed since hailey picked her up and to be honest, she’s not in her best state. in those 3 hours she downed 6 shots and had at least 7 strongly mixed drinks. it definitely had been worse before but her slightly blurred vision tells her that she’s had enough for tonight, especially with being alone with john.

right now she’s sitting on the couch with hailey and a boy called mike. "y/n, i swear your stepdad is so hot! i’d gladly let him fuck out my brains. why don’t you hit on him.” her best friend slurs and sips on her drink.

"god hailey. but fuck yeah i know. you have no idea how hard it is for me to control myself and don’t make anything that i’d regret. i mean he’s married to my mom for fucks sake.”

"yeah but she isn’t home for the weekend.” the girl whispers seductively in her ear and raises her eyebrows.

"but she’s my mom hailey. i could never do that to her.” y/n almost whines out. she wants him so bad but hell, she can’t. she just really can’t.

"you’re so so boring.” hailey points out as she gets up and wobbles right into the mass of drunk people.

the girl sighs out frustratedly and closes her eyes for a second. hell, everything is spinning and her mind is clouded with thoughts of john. how will she even manage to get home? well she definitely could walk home it’s only a 15 minute walk but getting inside her house will be the problem. she’s certainly not able anymore to climb up to her window. that won’t work. and getting in from the front door would be her death sentence as john’s always up until at least 3 am - god knows why?

"hey, wanna go drink something?” the boy next to her suddenly speaks up. her face turns to look at him and she smiles.

"of course.”

mike stands up and holds out his hand, which she hesitatingly takes and gets up as well. they make their way through the crowd and stop in the kitchen where all the alcohol bottles are placed.

"redbull with vodka?” the guy asks and holds up a vodka bottle.

"oh yes please!” she replies, but knowing too well that she should stop drinking right now. her problem is, that she simply can’t say no if someone asks for a drink - bad habit she inherited from her father. but if the night continues like this, they’ll find her blacked out on the middle of the street.

"aaand here you go gorgeous.” mike hands her the drink and smirks at her. she just nods in reply feeling a little uneasy because of his comment.

to her he seems nice but he’s the typical high school playboy, just trying to get in some girls pants. and he’s not her type. way too young. she likes ‘em older, beard and longer hair.

just like john.

"you look really good in that outfit y/n.” he once again speaks up and suddenly she really feels exposed. his eyes wander up and down her body, practically eye-fucking her. y/n’s top is barely covering her tits and her skirt just reaches under the swell of her ass.

"thank you.” she mumbles and tries her best to stay calm.

"how about we go upstairs and you show me how pretty you look without these on?” mike requests making her eyes widen. that crossed the line.

"uhm?! what the fuck no!” she almost yells out in disgust and takes a few steps back, but he follows her.

"oh come on baby, i know you want it.” his hands suddenly grab her hips and pull her closer to him. she tries her best to push him away, but it’s no use. she doesn’t have full control over her body anymore and obviously he’s way stronger than her.

"please stop.” she cry’s out and continues to fight against him.

"no baby, it’s fine. i’ll make you feel good.” the guy whispers in her ear making her cringe even more. his fingers wander up and down her sides and one hand reaches for her upper arm to hold her still.

she turns her head towards the living room, but everyone’s attention is on a girl who just threw up on the entire couch.

"mike please, i don’t want that.” she whispers and closes her eyes.

"oh no, you do want it. come on let’s get you upstairs.” his grip on her upper arm tightens.

"get the fuck off of her.” a yell echoes in the room and the guy is ripped away from her harshly. she opens her eyes again and finds john standing right in front of her. what in gods name is he doing here?!

suddenly all of the attention is on them.

before even realizing it john throws a fist right into mike’s jaw, making him tumble back against the wall, fingers touching the sore spot. some gasps are coming from the living room.

y/n just stands there, leaned against the counter because she can’t manage to stand completely straight without help anymore and she obviously doesn’t want her stepdad to notice. her mouth is agape and her eyes are widened.

"what the fuck dude.” mike whimpers as he presses his eyes together in pain.

"you touched her and she didn’t want it! is this how you treat a woman?” john growls at him, eyes completely dark and filled with anger.

"what do you expect? she looks like a fucking slut.”

bang.

the man lands another fist directly on the same spot.

"john.” y/n gasps out, loud enough for him to hear.

he packs mike right by his collar and pulls him up. "if i see you touching her one more time, i’ll fucking kill you.” the boy looks at him with fearful eyes, nodding his head frantically.

"yes, i’m sorry! i won’t do anything again.” mike cry’s out. john lets go of him, making him sack down on the floor. the black haired man slowly turns around to face y/n.

"and you. we’re going now.” he demands harshly pointing at her.

her head turns to face the living room, all of her friends and strangers are looking at her with widened eyes. embarrassment washes over her whole body and tears form in her eyes again. she’s thankful that john saved her from this awful situation but handling it in that way just makes her hate him. now everyone will be talking about her and how her crazy stepfather beat up mike davis.

"i said now.” his tone even harsher. with a trembling lip she wobbles over to her stepdad, almost tripping over her own her own feet.

john let’s out a growl and grips her waist, effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder. a yelp escapes her mouth as she wriggles around in discomfort as his shoulder presses right into her belly. the man walks through the crowd, everyone taking a few steps back, not wanting to be near him.

they exit the house and walk towards his grey mustang. she hears him open the door before placing her gently down on the floor. "come on, get inside.” hate still dripping from his voice. with shaky legs she throws herself inside the car and immediately leans her head back. she’s feeling so tired, she could sleep in any second.

but that won’t happen. john will give her a lecture now on how reckless and stupid she is.

her eyes open at the sound of john’s door. he starts the engine and drives off.

"y/n, what the fuck have you thought? i mean what crossed your brilliant mind to do something like that? sneaking out to a party even though i forbade you to go there? i’m fucking disappointed.”

silence.

she doesn’t reply, her brain’s not working. everything just hits her now and she can’t comprehend it all.

“i’m curious of what your mom will think about that. as soon as we’re home i’m going to call her, because that behavior won’t go by unpunished.”

her eyes widen. not her mom. he can’t do that. she’ll be grounded forever.

"no john please don’t tell mom, really, i beg you.” her words are a little bit slurred making him look at her.

"hell, you can’t even talk even talk properly.” he growls and drives even faster.

"john, please i’ll do anything please just don’t tell mom. i’ll never be allowed again to go out and you know that.” a whine escapes her throat.

"no y/n, that shit is unbelievable. you act up like a fucking brat and then just think that i’ll let this slide!?” he yells again.

but something about all this triggers her, makes her angry. he put on a show and now she’ll be the talk of the town. now he’s blaming her but if he would have just said yes everything would be fine, her mother would have never found out.

"for fucks sake john! could you please stop that shit, really! you’re making such a big deal out of it. hell, it was just hailey’s party and you guys know her well. nothing happened.”

"nothing happened? are you fucking crazy? if i wouldn’t have been there that idiot would have raped you. honestly girl, think before you open your mouth.” he snarls, stopping the engine before opening his door.

she glances out of the window, seeing her house right in front of her.

hell, why is she so damn stupid. if she would have stayed at home, listened to john, then she wouldn’t be in this fucked up situation right now. a sigh escapes her mouth and she closes her eyes. once again tears start to roll down her cheeks. now everything is ruined, john will tell her mom and then she’ll be grounded forever. perfect. fucking perfect.

the sound of her door opening, rips her out of her thoughts and she looks to her right. john is standing next to her, bowed down and staring at her. he notices her red puffy eyes and her trembling lip. his furious gaze softens a little and he huffs out.

"come on, i’ll get you inside.” voice much softer now. he grips her arms and pulls her out of the car.

she leans against him, eyes heavy and threatening to fall asleep any minute.

"do i have to carry you?” he asks as he closes the car door.

she just nods in reply and looks up at him. her eyes focus on his beautiful lips. oh what she’d do now to kiss him. she’d do everything.

john reaches over her upper back and under her knees, easily lifting her up in bridal style.

"how did you know i was at the party?” she quietly mumbles, eyes on his lips again.

"wanted to check on you, felt sorry for yelling at you. but you weren’t there.” he explains while getting inside of the house.

"oh.” is all she says before snuggling her head against his upper chest.

the man carries her up the stairs, right into her room. john gently sets her down on her bed, kneeling down in front of her. she watches him as he undoes the lace of her shoes, pulling them off her feet. fuck, seeing him knelt down right in front of her, between her thighs, does something to her. she rubs her thighs together, trying her best to gain some friction. this doesn’t go unnoticed by john, but he try’s to ignore it as good as possible.

"get out of those clothes, they’re full of alcohol.” the man demands and pulls her sitting form up. she looks up at him, suddenly feeling completely sober as adrenaline rushes through her veins simply from the thought of getting undressed in front of him.

without breaking eye contact, y/n slowly pulls down her skirt and steps out of it, followed by her top which she simply throws away.

she looks up at him with doe eyes, hands toying with the buttons of his shirt. "are you really going to tell mom?” her voice barely above a whisper.

he sighs out and pinches the bridge of his nose. “no, i won’t. but i can’t leave you unpunished.”

"uhm- john i- there’s something i need to tell you.” she suddenly announces, the influence of alcohol only making her more confident.

she wants him to know.

she can’t continue living peacefully when she has to live under one roof with a man she has a crush on but can’t tell him how she feels. the girl just wants to know if he maybe feels something for her in any sort of way and if not then it would also be alright because then she’d know and could move on easier. and right know she’s confident, still a little drunk and super horny.

"i think i already know doll.” he answers her with an unreadable expression. she furrows her eyebrows in confusion. what does he mean with he knows? her body tenses up as she can feel one of his hands on her waist. she’s speechless, not knowing what to say.

"don’t you think i see the way you look at me, the way you’re behavior changes when you’re around me? baby, you can’t hide anything from me.” her eyes widen, feeling really offended right now.

"and you know what’s the best fucking part of all this?” he smirks at her, leaning down right next to her ear. she just shakes her head, waiting for him to continue.

"hearing you moan out your name every time i pass your room at night.”

“i-john.” she whispers completely shocked and looks up to him again. he chuckles darkly and tightens his grip on her waist.

“you’re such a little slut, pleasuring herself at the thought of her own stepfather. what would your mom think about all this? hm y/n?”

"i-i don’t know.” the girl answers, her eyes fixate on the floor. a chuckle echoes in the room again.

the grip on her waist loosens and he sits down on the edge of her bed. while spreading his legs, he pulls her between them by her wrists.

"bend over my knees.”

her stomach turns at his words and her mouth opens a little.

"what?”

"you heard me y/n. i’m not going to say it again.” impatience is latching from his voice as he pats his thighs.

with a anxious but also excited feeling, she hesitatingly places her right knee on the bed next to his thigh and both hands next to the other one, before slowly lowering herself down.

she turns her head slightly to look at him as she feels both of his hands rubbing over the back of her thighs softly.

"you’ve been a bad girl doll.” he calmly says.

smack.

a loud yelp escapes her mouth at the sudden pain on her ass cheek.

"and bad girls get punished.”

smack.

he lands another hit on the same spot making her cry out.

the man stops when he’s pleased to see his fire red handprints on her ass cheeks.

hot tears stream down her face and soft sobs leave her mouth. but she’d lie if she’d say she isn’t aroused. the wet spot on her panties and the moans that left her mouth betray her.

if he don’t fucks her now any minute she’ll go insane.

"please john.” she squeals out, propping herself up on her knees. he looks at her with darkened eyes, which wander down her almost bare form.

"what do you want. say it.” his fingers slowly wandering over her whole upper body. she leans into his touch and looks at him with a begging expression.

"you. please! i know you want it too. please john.” she whimpers out and grabs his shirt, pulling him closer.

"begging like a good little girl.” her stepdad smirks at her and places his hands once again on her hips, dragging her on his lap.

he chuckles before grabbing her throat with his right hand harshly and smashing his lips on hers. she kisses him back passionately and wraps her arms around his neck.

as she feels his hard bulge press directly on her center she starts to grind down on him trying to gain some friction to ease the unbearable ache in her core.

his hands roam over her whole body, groping her breast harshly eliciting a moan from her. he uses this as advantage and pushes his tongue into her mouth. their tongues fight intensely for dominance which john obviously wins, exploring her whole mouth with his tongue. his hands that were once on her breasts wander down to her hips, guiding her, movements now harsher and faster because of him.

y/n pulls away from the kiss, trying to catch her breath. she throws her head back in ecstasy as her clit rubs against his clothed cock. "fuck john!” she whimpers, her mouth wide agape. he grips her throat once again and manhandles her to her back, making her whine at the loss of friction. the man climbs on top of her, hungrily kissing her again. she moans into the kiss, trying to sign him that she needs more.

she can feel him smirking against her lips as his kisses wander down to her jaw and stopping on her neck. he passionately sucks on her flesh, marking her up for every one to know that she only belongs to him. "please john, i need you.”

"patience.” he only mumbles while licking the purple turning spots. a cry slips past her lips as she presses her eyes together in frustration.

he presses his lips on her collarbone, before finally kissing down to the swell of her breasts. his right hand reaches behind her back and unclips her black lace bra. john sits up and stares at her chest. her cheeks redden up in embarrassment as she shifts around nervously. "fuck i love your tits.” her stepdad almost gasps out and squeezes them again. he bows down and takes one of her hardened nipples into his mouth and harshly sucks on it, earning a squealing sound from y/n. his fingers toy with her other nipple, rolling it and pulling roughly.

"john! i’m serious!” she groans out loudly and buries her face in the duvets. in reply he pulls back with a plop and glances at her lustfully.

"you’re so needy. my favorite little girl.” he smiles and gives her a peck on her lips before kneeling down on the floor. she props herself up on her elbows to watch his every move. his hands grip her ankles and pull her right to the edge of the bed. john grabs her thighs and pulls them apart, settling himself right between them. he throws her legs over his shoulders and looks at her with lust filled eyes.

her breathing gets heavier and heavier, just waiting for him to finally give her what she desires so badly.

without breaking the intense eye contact, john starts to kiss his way up her leg, licking and biting on her soft flesh. he feverishly sucks on both her thighs, putting even more hickeys on her body.

in reply she buckles her hips, trying to get him closer to her most sensitive spot but he doesn’t give her that satisfaction. his lips prep her body every where but on her cunt and she feels like she’s about to go crazy. she can’t explain the way her core aches simply because of the long waiting and the fucking teasing.

he finally lets his fingers wander to the waistband of her black thong, wrapping them around the thin lace. john pulls it down her legs before tossing it on the floor. "please.” is the last sound that echoes in the room before john dips down right into her pink dripping pussy. she lets out a moan in relief, finally being able to feel him on her body.

he drags his tongue up from her hole to her puffy clit, starting to suck on it gently. her hand finds its way to his raven hair, pulling on it tightly while moaning out his name. the man wraps his hands around her thighs pushing them even further open. he kneads the soft flesh and groans out. a gasp leaves her mouth as she feels two of his fingers rubbing circles teasingly around her wet entrance. she cry’s out and pushes his head even further into her cunt, needing to feel even more of him.

he grins against her pussy before easily slipping both of his digits inside of her, both of them humming at the feeling. "fuck, you’re so wet.” he groans as he pulls away to look at her. "just for you daddy- oh fuck!” she almost yells out as he suddenly presses his fingers up directly into her g-spot. he speeds up his movements and drives into her even harsher. y/n arches her back in pure bliss and keeps her eyes tightly shut.

"johnnn! don’t stop!”

he huffs out and once again starts licking on her clit. he skillfully keeps hitting that spot over and over again, watching her closely. the constant stimulation on her clit and the squelching sounds he causes- that bounce off the walls, make her getting closer to her sweet release she’s been craving.

"please, i’m so close!” she whimpers and wriggles around with her hips.

john hums in response, his fingers fucking her even rougher and faster than before, eliciting an almost pornographic moan from y/n. "i’m going to cum daddy.”

the coil in her womb is almost threatening to snap as he suddenly pulls away from her shaking form. she whines out loudly but before she can even say a word or complain, he manhandles her on her stomach. deep and long breaths escape her mouth and she tries to prop herself up on her hands, but john presses a hand to her upper back and pushes her down again.

"stay. i never told you to move.” a scolding whisper leaving his mouth.

y/n lays still and opens her eyes again. they wander to her window right in front of her. she can see john’s reflection as he takes off his shirt. trough the blinding and blurry glass of the window she can’t see him too good, but his well trained body is impossible to not notice. her eyes admire him as he pulls down his pants along with his boxers, making them wander down a little bit. she quietly gasps out and focuses her eyes on his huge cock.

that’s the biggest cock she’s ever seen. her eyes widen even more and she can feel her own juices dripping down her thighs as he wraps his hand around his dick and starts to pump himself.

"please john i need you.“ she winces as she scoots closer to the edge of the bed, wanting to feel him inside her finally.

"arms behind your back.“ he replies, ignoring her request. she quickly obliges and stretches her arms out behind her, left side of her face now fully buried in the sheets.

the sound of metal clicking together makes her squeeze her thighs in excitement and she can feel him tying her wrists together with his belt. he ties it tightly together but not hard enough to hurt her.

he looks at the hot mess right in front of him, barely holding himself back. finally, he leans his thighs against the bed and places his hands on her hips, his cock just inches away from her dripping hole.

"are you ready my little slut?“ he growls, slapping her ass.

"yes, p-please just fuck me already.“ she whines out, completely frustrated by now.

"that’s what i wanted to hear.“ he whispers in her ear before forcefully slamming his whole length inside of her. her pussy is so slippery with her wetness, that his cock slipped in with ease.

a yell escapes her mouth at being ripped open that harshly. she hears him groan out shamelessly as well as his dick finally gets to feel her warm velvety walls clenching around him so desperately. “you’re so tight baby.”

he waits for a second before he starts to pound her in a brutal pace. his hands grip her hips tighter as he leans his head back continuing his harsh fast thrusts. he can't contain himself, but throws rough slaps to her round ass, loving the sounds he elicits from her. loud and hitched moans leave her swollen lips and her hips wriggle a little in discomfort. not being able to move her hands, back painfully arched and his unmerciful pounding is too much for her. and the intense smell of sex makes her almost dizzy

"fuck john, slow down!“ she whimpers eyes pressed tightly together.

he lets out a growl and grabs her wrists where they are connected and pulls her up, never stopping with his thrusts. the new angle makes his tip hammering exactly on her special spongy spot, jolts of pleasure are cursing through her whole body.

she cry’s out and leans her head against his chest.

"you are going to take it like the good little whore you are. you hear me?“ john hisses, making her nod frantically.

"that’s what you wanted, right? that’s what you’ve been begging for like a slut.“ the man continues as one of his hands suddenly wanders around her body to rub fast and harsh circles on her clit.

pornographic moans echo in the room and tears stream down her redden cheeks due the intense feeling she’s experiencing right now.

"answer me.“

"yes- fuck, i- i wanted it.“ stumbling over her own words, she tries her best to answer him.

"good girl.“ he whispers again as he pushes her down again.

his thrusts are getting faster and harsher by minute and her moans are getting louder. the stinging pain of his cock stretching her, long gone. the only thing she’s feeling right now is his cock pressing against her g-spot and the toe curling pleasure from rubbing her clit, the knot in her womb is starting to form again. the squelching sounds of her pussy and her sweet pitched moans that rattle against the walls drive john insane, his dick pulsating even more. john throws his head back in pleasure, just adoring the feeling of her velvety walls and his wife now long forgotten. everything he can think about right now is his stepdaughter and how good she’s making him feel.

"john i’m close!“

in reply he just slams into her deeper. y/n can feel his thrust getting more erratic and sloppier.

"cum princess.“ he groans out as he pulls her up by her hair again, pressing his chest tightly against her back, one hand on her breast, the other continues to abuse her poor clit.

"please come inside me daddy.“ she whimpers out. that’s enough for john to hear to completely loose it.

y/n feels his cock twitching before his seed starts to shoot up into her womb, paint her pink walls and filling her to the brim. one last rub on her clit and a few more thrusts from his hips, send the girl straight over the edge, releasing all over his big cock. her body goes limp, making john tighten his grip on her.

John slowly pulls out of her, making both of them groan out at the loss. he gently lays her down before releasing his grip from her. with her face buried in the sheets, y/n breaths out fast, trying to recover from the after waves of her orgasm that still curse through her body. she can feel him shift on the bed, crawling up next to her. the man frees her from his belt and throws it on he floor before he gets up to the headboard of the bed, leaning his back against it. his eyes wander to her fucked out form and his soft dick starts to harden once more. he needs to feel her walls wrapped around him again, already addicted to the sweet feeling. with a sigh he sits up properly and slightly clears his throat.

"come here baby."

y/n hums out lowly and props herself up on her hands. she looks at him with worn out eyes, but nevertheless there’s still a sparkle of lust in them.

she crawls up to him so that she’s directly in front of him, still on her hands and knees. his thighs are trapped between her knees and she comes even closer, her face almost touching his.

a smirk spreads across his face and his hand reaches out for a strand of her hair which is hanging in her face and brushes it behind her ear, admiring the beautiful girl in front of him. "you’re fucking sexy, you know that?” he whispers.

a blush creeps to her cheeks and she looks away with a giddy smile. john huffs out and places his hands on her rip cage, pulling her further to him so that she’s directly hovering over his rock hard dick.

he slowly pushes her down until she can feel his tip directly at her entrance. she breathes out before she lowers herself down, taking in his whole length. a whine falls from her lips as his dick presses deliciously against her overstimulated g-spot. john groans out as well and closes his eyes for a second, hands wandering down to her waist. she focus on his beautiful lips, just wanting to kiss him badly.

as john opens his eyes again he comes closer to her face and she finally smashes her lips on his. the kiss is passionate and possessive, making her wrap her arms around his neck.

slowly she begins to bounce on his cock up and down, whimpering at the sensation. sparks of pleasure wash through her and she feels like her whole body is on fire. john’s hands now grip her waist tighter and start to control your movements, making them faster and rougher. she has to pull away from his lips to catch her breath and throws back your head.

"ah john, you’re fucking me so good.” a whimper rattles against the walls and the sound of skin slapping together makes this even better.

he lets out an answering groan and pulls her down on his cock harsher, feeling his orgasm build up again. the girl’s stepdad watches her closely, his eyes never leaving her form, as his thumb starts to rub small circles on her sensitive nub.

“you’re fucking perfect y/n. i could fuck you all day long.” he drawls in pure bliss.

in reply she just moans out and rocks her hips harder against him. his head suddenly surges forward and he aggressively captures one of her nipples into his mouth, pulling and biting it feverishly. “oh my god johnnn!” waves of pleasure stream through her whole body and she can feel the tingling sensation in her abdomen already growing again.

“please harder john, i’m close.”

he doesn’t need to hear that twice before he props up his legs and starts to rut into her in an harsh way. y/n’s mouth opens and her eyes shut tightly. her hands hold onto his shoulders tightly for support and erotic sounds leave her lips.

john grits his teeth and fucks into her as fast as possible, his thumb circling her clit rougher.

"i’m cumming princess.”

“oh fuck, me too! don’t stop.” she manages to splutter out before she can feel her orgasm crashing through her body. a scream escapes her lungs as she cums undone, releasing all over his cock and her forehead falls down against his shoulder.

her orgasm triggers john own’s and he spurts his seed again deep inside of her. he thrusts his hips up a few more times before stopping completely, letting both of them calm down. john lets his head sink into the crook of her neck, breathing loudly against her.

after a few minutes of comfortable, relaxing silence and heavy breathing john looks up to her, admiring her once again. his thumb and pointer finger grab her gin to make her look at him. “i love you y/n.” he says, voice just above a whisper.

a blush creeps to her cheeks and her eyes widen in joy. “i love you too.”

“come on, i’ll get you something to clean you up.” he mumbles while lifting up her body to pull out his already softened dick.

a quiet whine slips past her lips and she sits down next to him. she watches him as he gets up and walks out of the room, probably to the bathroom.

the girl shifts around on the bed and lays down on her back, sighing out loudly. she can’t belief what just happened. her biggest desire came true, she finally got what she craved for so long. and it turned out that john feels the same.

a huge smile is plastered on her face. she couldn’t be any happier right now.

the sound of john’s footsteps rip her out of her thoughts and she glances over to him. he has a wet cloth in his hands and crawls up to her, settling in between her thighs. he carefully wipes the cloth up and down her worn out pussy.

when he’s finished he throws it away and lays down next to her, pulling her into his warm embrace. in reply she snuggles in closer to him and wraps her arms around his body. john looks at her with love filled eyes and leans down to give her one more kiss.

"my dirty little girl.” he whispers, making y/n chuckle out.

"i’m tired john.” she mumbles out and buries her face in the crook of his neck.

“i know baby, go to sleep.” john slight turns his upper body to shut down the light that is placed on his bed side table.

“good night john.” her voice already sleepy.

“good night princess.” he replies, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before pulling her closer to him.