#john wick male reader

[skylarinfinity]

m/n: [in serious tone] you know wick, there's something i want to tell you but i wait for the right time...

john wick: [continue staring at the night sky] what is it's?

m/n: since i first met you all i can think is that you look like jesus who decided to wear all black.

john wick: [sigh] why past me let's you follow me around?

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yay I was the anon who asked if you watch the new John Wick film, I hoped you enjoyed the movie!

Can I request some yandere marquis de gramont headcanons? (it can be romantic or platonic)

man was the biggest prick that i had seen in a while from a movie lol

Yandere Vincent de Gramont Headcanons

A/N:You read my mind Anon lmaoo - I was literally planning on writing some HCs for the Marquis <3

Despite the initial conception one may have about Vincent's dedication to a lover – that being none – he's actually surprisingly...loyal.

While he has the playboy exterior, enough money to soak up the oceans of the Earth and all the allure that comes with his occupation, he secretly feels as if he has nothing at all.

What he wants, what he really, truly wants, is to feel something new. Something he’s never experienced before.

Love.

Not just for himself - for someone else.

His brush with John Wick made him realise how empty his life was by comparison to the Boogeyman, who lived and almost died for the memory of love.

And that stuck with Vincent. Affected him more than he’d like to admit.

But, his heightened status above most others has left him isolated with few who wish to know him in a capacity beyond acquaintances for fear of incurring his wrath with a misplaced word or an overstepped boundary.

Thus, love is almost an impossibility for the Marquis.

And then he met you.

And grew obsessed intrigued. Fast.

He likely met you in passing completely separate from his usual crowd – which is to say hunters and murderers.

And he's taken aback by you; your beauty, your charm, your personality. In a way that, while many others have tried, have never breached Vincent’s superficial interest.

Or perhaps you nurse that same melancholy void he harbours; the desire for something more. Which, divulging it to him, a complete stranger, the Marquis finds oddly endearing. Vulnerable.

He’s enchanted. The void in his chest seems to tighten somewhat. Heal.

You’ve given him what no other has before. Genuine, friendly, interested conversation. All without even knowing who he is.

Now, having to rush off, apologising with a smile for taking up his time with “Trivial banter,” Vincent watches your retreating form.

He has his sights set on you.

Over the next few days, while conducting business and going about his everyday life, Vincent’s mind keeps crawling back to you, those fateful minutes wherein he felt he knew everything about you and nothing at all.

Though, he doesn't actually want to admit it at first.

While, yes, he does want to experience true love, he is entirely unwilling to acknowledge the disgustingly human need to feel something.

So, he tries to hide it. Bury it beneath his work, French desserts and luxuries you've never even heard of.

But, over time, you spring back up in the forefront of his mind when you are no longer content with being a voice in the background. A memory of a time where Vincent felt as if he’d truly been seen.

And Vincent, passing off his secret enthusiasm as boredom, a mere meandering of memories, ‘allows’ the odd thought of you to trickle in here and there.

You are a form of medicine. Whenever Vincent feels something undesirable brewing in his chest, he finds himself back with you on that bench in the park, your warmth and presence sun rays against his face as he’s transported from one of his many mansions to beside you once more.

And, even if he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, you scratch the right spot in his psyche that material gain just can’t. Not in comparison to the human touch you have.

Gramont’s so used to people regarding him with favour or fear that it still takes him aback now how kindly you treated him, not knowing who he is or what he does.

You had nothing to gain from your kindness. And yet you still gave it to him.

Healed him with it.

Vincent’s daydreams start to grow more intense the longer he thinks about you.

An emulated conversation. Additions and projections of the recollections of your encounter, no matter how brief. Anything to let Vincent feed off the feeling you gave him when he’s exhausted the phantom of your first encounter.

There comes a point, weeks after you first met, where Vincent spends more time in these memories, both real and fabricated, than in the conscious world. And they strengthen, pulling his focus from his work, from his duties.

At first, this manifests as a glazed look in his eyes, one which, to all those who knew of him, could pen as the typical, uninterested Marquis stare.

He wears the same one in the comfort of his private rooms, one where nobody can see what he’s thinking. But now, people can see Vincent couldn’t care less about the projected bounty of this one killer from Wales; he just wants to be left alone with his thoughts.

His men have started to notice, too.

And, one evening, Vincent decides to lay upon them a task.

“I need you to find someone for me,” he says, his chin resting atop clasped hands. There is no jest, nor leniency, in his stare.

The task itself sounded easy enough. But with only a physical description to go on, not even having gotten your name, Vincent, for the first time in his life, is anxious.

Anxious his men won’t find you, no matter how deep his connections run.

Anxious that, while he’s lived in his dream world for the last month, you’ve since disappeared. Been killed, perhaps, or exposed to some freak accident.

Vincent pains at the feeling in his centre whenever he considers this a possibility. It tears the scabbing void in his chest wide open again.

Sometimes, while he lies in bed, the thought that might have perished somehow, that his men will have misinterpreted his specific instructions not to interact with you, only report on what you’re doing, plagues him.

He knows his men are loyal – that they’ve never failed a task before now. And he clings to the hope that their winning streak won’t run dry one of these nights.

One day, sat in his office, glancing over a document he’d tried reading for the last half hour yet couldn’t because, surprise, you were distracting him, one of his men came into the room.

“We have them, Sir,” he said, the image of victory. Vincent couldn’t help but scan his suit for any sign of blood. Your blood.

To say Vincent was excited is an understatement of epic proportions.

At first, he’s just numb.

Then, a few minutes later, his chest burns and sparks with an electric passion one acquires when meeting an idol.

Vincent wishes to deploy himself immediately. But he knows this is a waiting game.

So, he remains far enough away from your life that you do not suspect a single thing is wrong.

You don’t even glance over at the guy who’s been tailing you for the last few hours.

You don’t think twice about the stranger who’s been sat in perfect view of you in the cafe for the last two weeks.

You don’t even consider that the guy you bumped into earlier is responsible for your house key going missing.

Now, with access to your inner sanctum and your daily routine burned into his mind like a holy scripture, Vincent makes his move.

He stages meetings between the two of you.

Starts ‘bumping into you’.

At first, you simply recognise him, ask him how he’s doing and what he’s doing in the area.

And, Vincent, the man with an answer for everything, finds himself doing something he never has before.

He fumbles.

Even when he imagined you in a most vivid detail, nothing compares to this moment, where what he says has consequences, where he has one shot at getting this right. Or risk your uncertain stare.

He can feel fear rising in his chest as he stutters. Only once, but enough to knock him down a few pegs in your mind’s eye. At least, that’s what he thinks.

But, he completes his task, albeit not as pristinely as he wished.

He asked you out to coffee.

And you, with a signature smile, accepted.

And now, your fate is sealed.

Vincent beats himself up over his ineptitude of speaking to you like he did in his head: suave, cool, collected.

And, given the fact that he’s never had to take accountability for anything he’s ever done, he tries to blame it on someone else.

Not you, though.

Never you.

Regardless of this minor hurdle, as Vincent sees it, he purses this…friendship with you.

He isn’t used to the concept. Not in a visceral sense, anyway.

The saying ‘It’s lonely at the top’ comes to mind when describing Vincent’s relationships.

There is always a power imbalance, no matter who he’s speaking with.

He is always above them, and they are always below him.

But that’s when they know him. Know his dynamic.

You, you have absolutely no idea who he is, or what he’s capable of.

To you, he’s just Vincent, the owner of a successful manufacturing business.

No, Vincent couldn’t quite ditch the theatrics. He still needed an out to impress you – to have a valid excuse as to how he owns so many nice cars, how he never wears the same designer suit twice.

He doesn’t tone it down with the suits, by the way.

He’s too enthralled by the fascinated look you wear when you’re taking in the patterns, the chains, the craftsmanship.

Which, to his surprise, makes his face warm.

People have only ever looked at the label of his outfit, never the ensemble itself.

That’s just another of the ways you make him feel seen.

You tell him so much of yourself, yet not enough to break your mystique.

Vincent knows more about you than you think, and he uses this to create another version of himself – one which likes the same records as you (though, he unironically does enjoy them. But, he knows he likely wouldn’t unless you listened to them, too), has the same preferences for how you fold your clothes, whether you should brush your teeth before or after breakfast.

And Vincent devours every detail you grant him like a meal, saving them, storing them, testing them out in his newest daydreams when he gets home, his heart thrumming and his breathing short as an unfamiliar feeling of wholeness and anxiety overtakes him.

And yet, there is little he can offer in return.

Nothing that isn’t a lie, anyway.

He keeps you as far away from his work as possible, hence he meets you in such public spaces.

His men are always stationed nearby, disguised as civilians. Should the need for bloodshed ever arise.

Eventually, your weekly coffee meet-ups evolve into something else.

Vincent, after asking one of his men (under strict confidentiality) ”What do you do when you…like-like someone…?” starts taking you to restaurants.

He tries not to scare you off with anything too fancy, but he can’t help but feel part of himself die whenever he thinks about how dull the food here in this 5-star restaurant is compared to his usual dining preferences.

But you’re happy, thanking him for the meal with a gratitude that isn’t borne from a life-or-death scenario.

You’re not paying for these dates, by the way. Vincent won’t let you.

“I brought you here; I’m paying.”

He also has a tendency to go overboard with the gifts.

You tell him your watch is broken ? Here are five designer timepieces imported from a selective brand whose clientele is vetted and chosen by the CEO himself.

Of course, you can try to refuse these gifts – tell Vincent that you “Can’t possibly take them from you; it’s too much !”

But he plays the guilt card well.

“No, I insist,” he says, pushing them into your hands. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

If you actively wear or use anything he buys you, he’ll be overjoyed. Prideful.

You’re wearing something he got for you. That basically means you’re saying you belong to him.

Of course, he does get a little carried away with his…delusions. But he means well !

He’s just territorial.

Vincent can be a gentleman when he wants to be.

And can also be a vicious creature when he doesn’t.

He only presents one of these sides to you.

The other is reserved for his more…private affairs.

When he started feeling more intensely about you, his mind wandered to some rather unsavoury places – places that, usually, VIncent would walk through without batting an eye.

But now that he, dare he say...liked you…he felt as if he’d been drenched in cold water whenever he imagined you doing anything risqué.

So, with the steadily growing number of these thoughts, these images of you, piercing his mind, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

He beds people who look like you. 

The two of you aren’t dating yet; haven’t even held hands (though Vincent agonises over finding the right opportunity to do so).

But he still feels wrong. Like he’s cheating on you.

His sanity tries to prevent him from thinking like this, tries to keep itself intact by urging Vincent to pursue another mindless conquest.

Your name does slip out between his panting, though.

Much to the chagrin of whoever’s beneath him right now.

He wonders what you’d look like, what you’d feel like in this same position. What your preferences are.

There’s only one way to find out.

He tries turning up the boyfriend factor after he decides now’s the time to pursue you. Properly.

He sits a little closer to you whenever you invite him over for movie nights, holds you for just a little longer whenever you engage in your traditional parting hug.

And he can’t help but think about how much he wants to stay with you like this forever.

And permanence is a rare commodity for people in his line of work. No matter how many bodyguards he has, or how skilled he is.

Nothing is certain.

Which is why, one evening, lying awake in bed, he decides to act.

He knows it’s a risky manoeuvre, but he can’t deny how careless he’s been with you these last few months.

Not that you’d know, but his men have intercepted five people who’ve tried to kill you, take you – or worse.

All just to get to him.

He can’t leave you in the wide open world like this. He can’t let you be at risk. Not because of him.

So, that night, his heart in his mouth as he commands his men to “Find (Y/N). Bring them to me.” Vincent awaits your arrival.

And, eventually, he hears you. Clamouring in the halls outside his office, screaming and fighting. Resisting.

Vincent can’t help but crack a smile, knowing how defiant you are – how stubborn you can be in your method.

As the heavy footsteps of his men come to a stop outside his door, your screeching is blunted only by the thick wood.

And, doors open, here you are, shoved into the room.

Your captor revealed.

You look at him with what you could construed as almost-neutrality, your bewilderment a damper to your anger, your fear.

“Vincent,” you say, breathless. You take a staggering step towards him. His men take a step towards you, reaching for weapons concealed by their coats.

Vincent raises a hand, and they retract.

He looks at you.

His eyes are filled with nothing less than adulation, misplaced happiness in a situation you view as dire.

“Sit,” he tells you, casting a glance to the seat before his desk.

With little else you can do, you obey.

And your world begins to unravel.

Vincent, in the lamest, most gentle of terms, explains that he is “Not who you thought I was,” – that he does “More for a living than make vases and luxury dishware.”

“I,” he says, watching your eyes carefully, glassy and holding no less potential for terror. “Am the Marquis.”

Vincent stands, and when he sees you flinch, something in him withers. Hurts.

He shoves it aside.

“I am responsible for making sure that the right outcome is brought to the right people.”

His hands behind his back, pacing the length of your field of sight, he swallows. 

You’re judging him now. In a way you never had, you’re judging him.

His desire to display how grandiose his lifestyle is doesn’t seem so forthcoming anymore, hiding, shy.

This is more difficult than he anticipated.

“What does that mean ?” you say, voice tight and quiet.

Vincent’s fist clenches. He doesn’t want you like this. You should be happy he’s rescued you ! Albeit from threats you didn’t know pertained to you, but still !

“I’m…” he starts. His gaze wanders to his men, who, with perfect understanding, leave.

You almost don’t want them to go.

“I’m a reaper, of sorts,” he says. He draws closer, taking a step in your direction. You bite back the urge to flee.

“A face to a cause.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, instead watching you with what you think is scrutiny (but couldn’t be further from it), you ask, throat dry, hoarse from your screaming. Crying.

“What cause ?”

Vincent bites the inside of his lip. And, for the first time, he can feel himself cracking under your gaze.

You’re scared. He knows you are. He just wished he didn’t have to see it painted so blatantly on your features, downturned with grief should everything end on this night.

Where was your smile ? Your crinkled eyes, your sonorous laugh, your upturned lips ?

“I fix problems,” he says. There’s no way he can put his occupation lightly. “I used to do it with knives. Guns, a pencil, perhaps – whatever was at my disposal.”

He’s closer now, approaching. His arms are at his sides. And he stands before you.

You don’t want to look up. You want to look – be – anywhere but here.

But Vincent doesn’t let you.

“But now,” he says, and he gets to one knee. His hands trap you, on either of the arm rests of the chair. Yet he does not possess the face of one who is a captor, instead a mask of total capitulation to a feeling he couldn’t even begin to understand before you showed him.

“I do it with diplomacy. With people who are much better suited to that life than I.”

His voice is soft, quieter than before. There is a hint of a smile at his lips, pulling the corners, beginning the total eclipse of his eyes from full to crescent. An offset to the anxiety bubbling in his centre.

Your hands in your lap, he takes them in his, slowly, gently, fingers resting atop yours.

And he squeezes them.

Holds them. Just as he’d always wanted to.

“Why��” you swallow a sob, turn your head so you don’t let him see your face scrunch into the epitome of fright. “Why am I here…?��

Vincent’s lips part. His hand slips up to your jaw, urges you to look at him.

He’s forbearing. A butterfly.

Nothing like how his men handled you.

That in itself could almost convince you that he’s not such a bad guy. Even after all he’s told you.

“Because–” your face in his hand, he looks up into your eyes. Barely contained tears fill them.

“Because you’ll be safe with me,” he promises. There’s an unencumbered optimism in his eyes. A dangerous one at that.

“Because I can’t trust that my men can protect you when you’re so far away – alone – in the city.”

“What do you mean, Vincent ?!”

You don’t mean to snap. But since you’d just been kidnapped and the truth behind the matter is no clearer to you, you can’t help it.

Vincent almost seems to flinch, his eyes narrowing just for a second. He returns to you with his puppy stare.

“There are people out there who know who I am. What I do.”

He squeezes your hand again, his other still wrapped about your jaw.

“The problem now is that they know you, too.”

He swallows thickly, looking down for a split of a second. Guilt.

“And it’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve just left you alone, let you live your life…but I can’t undo that now.”

He laces his fingers between yours. And you’re too frazzled to refuse.

“What I can do, what I will do–” his hand comes to the point of your chin, holds it gently between his fingers like glass.

His gaze falls to your lips, and you try to ignore it.

“Is keep you safe. Here. With me.”

You’d have laughed if you didn’t believe everything he’d just said.

It all just made sense to you.

The lavish gifts, the people watching you that you hadn’t dared notice before because you’re just being paranoid. The hard glares Vincent would grant to all that passed you by in the rooms of higher society.

And now, everything shatters. You cry.

“Oh, non, mon Cher, don’t cry–” Vincent moves to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but you pull away. Retract from his kindness.

"You're insane–" you’re breathless, gasping between sobs

"Not insane.” VIncent tells you. He stands so he’s perfectly level with you, his eyes piercing yours. And, just as he had many times before in your presence, he smiles. Genuine and heartfelt. Then, a statement. A declaration.

“Just… in love.”

[nouearth]

a business trip.

john wick x male reader.

warnings: smut, alcohol, blowjob (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, rough!sex, breeding, unprotected!sex, top!johnwick, bottom!reader.

request.

the soft tune of jazz—a sonata that you were never particularly fond of��became comforting in your solitude. though a piano was absent, hidden stereos were more than adequate as you gathered the ambiance would’ve been more or less the same if a pianist had performed. 

in the sleepy hours of the continental hotel, patrons of the lounge kept their conversations low, indescribable murmurs to your ears as you sipped on your drink—warm and smooth down your throat. 

the time on your phone flicked to midnight, and day two commenced. you came on a business trip. if you could, you would’ve rejected the offer to come to new york, especially when it took away time from your dog. but the rascal was spoiled, and that unfortunately meant you had to step out of your home office once in a while—all to keep her spoiled. 

but who ever said you couldn’t have a little fun during your trip?

the seats at the bar were unoccupied except for yours. clients preferred sitting in something that supported their back, you presumed, but that didn’t stop a gentleman from taking a seat next to you.

oh, wow. maybe the lady was right… this cologne is a dick magnet.

unbeknownst to you, his favorite seat was occupied and he was petty—though only slight, because a strong drink to incinerate his stress was his main priority. 

“bourbon whiskey,” the gentleman glanced at you, dried blood and cuts lanterned under the muted lights, but his black hair succeeded in shadowing. “please.”

the man didn’t seem phased by the injuries—a nonchalant attitude he maintained—but you were nonetheless surprised. speechless as no one, not even the bartender, seemed to have minded his wounds, the blood stained on his dress shirt, and the purple bruise beating on his cheekbone.

it was… strange.

“uh...” you cleared your throat, directing the sound towards the man to get his attention. he looked, clearly want to be left alone as he kept his gaze front. “sorry, i just… uh… should i be worried about that?”

though he didn’t seem to recognize you, the stranger was hesitant to answer, taking more than a few beats before speaking, low and gritty. “no, just… got robbed.”

“oh, shit, seriously?” you reached for you phone and turned the screen on. ”then, I think we should call-“ before you could take the process to another step, a gentle grasp latched around your wrist, stopping you.

“that’s very kind of you, but i’m fine.” he finally turned to you, a reassuring gaze pierced to your worry before letting go and looking front again.

handsome, even when he’s all beat up. focus, that was not the priority right now.

“dude, you’re bleeding.” remnants of warmth escaped your wrist, but his calloused fingers remained in memory. “you could have a concussion or something.”

“maybe,” the man took a sip of his drink, a simper to his face when it was concluded that you were evidently not from his world. “seemed fine as i walked the way here though.”

“jesus,” you couldn’t pick apart between fact or fiction, especially from a stranger, but he had no reason to lie. you took another sip, watching him and accepting his truth. “did you manage to get a hit on them, at least?”

you missed it, but the man glanced down at the red stain on his dress shirt, small and ruby-ed against the white fabric before taking a sip again. “something like that.”

“hm... i guess i know who to call for a bodyguard when i’m in the city again, then.” the ice between the two of you was slowly melting, puddles of it spreading when you two shared a chuckle. “(m/n), by the way.”

“john.” you can put a name to his face now, and it was fitting. mysterious and aloof, but never intimidating because there was a warmth inside of him that just needed a reason to come out. “never seen you here before, first time?”

“kind of?” by now, the drink has caught up to you and you felt a little more confident, turning your body towards him. “i mean, i’ve been to new york before—just not this hotel. i’m here for work.”

“i see,” when you faced towards him, john never meant to do a double-take. several glances were hidden in between the constant motion of drinking, the heat relieving john’s body whenever he took a sip—he likened it to medicine. “enjoying your stay then?”

but the more john looked at you, warmth began to rise instead. it eventually settled on his chest, neck, and cheeks to his dismay and it does not intent to wear off, no matter how many sips he took in greatest efforts to push it down—in a void somewhere, where he believed his feelings deserved to be buried.

“it could be better.” alcohol was a powerful drug, because you were one-hundred percent sure that the chance of you flirting without a drink would’ve been close to zero.

it came out of nowhere—this feeling. fleeting or not, your pants tightened and you needed a release. if it wasn’t him, then it was going to be someone else. and if you really couldn’t get laid, you’d be content with dry-humping a pillow.

you’ve seen it in the movies before—well, usually from a women—but it should be universally accepted, right? confidence was sexy: show some skin, make your intentions clear, and handle rejection like a real class act. 

worst he could do is say no…

“I don’t mean to be crass, but,” you tugged on your necktie, loosening it around the collar, and unbuttoned only the top two buttons. a slight breeze ghosted your neck as it radiated and yearned for lust—kindled further when you downed another drink, a last stop for encouragement, but also a device to handle rejection all at once. “do you want to fuck?”

john watched you stone-faced, but there was clear interest in his eyes—you watched it spread across his dark orbs. 

it was telling that you both needed something—a release: you with work and him with being mugged, apparently. your fingers tapped on the counter, impatient for an answer. 

after a smooth swig of his drink, john got up and beckoned to you with a small smile. “come on.”

as soon as the door shut, you were backed into it with considerable force—not a single second to spare. you held onto john in blind support, groping at his broad back and hips while john’s needy palms worked at your ass, squeezing tight to aid the erection in his pants.

“fuck.” pressure applied to your clothed bulge as john pressed his hips against you, rutting in irregular rhythms conducted by pure lust, and you desperately returned them, needier as you rubbed into his thigh. your moans caught between his lips when the pair found themselves on you, kissing you with the utmost passion—poisonous, because it stole your breath away. 

“i could come just like this.” you spared enough oxygen to breathe out, but later found it swallowed when john kissed you again, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth. his tongue was sloppy, mixing the sweetness of your drink with the burn of his to form an entirely new recipe that only the two of you would share. 

complete darkness filled your sight while your neck was then bombarded with rough kisses, only broken when john unwillingly tore himself from your skin to strip himself. it was a tedious process because he was greedy, returning back to your neck and lips whenever a piece of clothing was thrown to the corner of the room.

but you were impatient, as was he, and knew things would never progress if he was submitted under the smell and soft touch of your skin. so you playfully pushed him, squeezing his chest in midst, and constantly knocking him back to his amusement while the glow of the moon became your guide to the bed.

“keep that up,” john held you by the waist again, applying his bare body to your clothed figure, half-undressed with your trousers and shirt left, as you felt his beard against your skin. a gentle brush tickled you, but his darkened, low voice sent goosebumps. “and we won’t make it to the bed.”

“hm.” a hum vibrated in your throat while he kissed your neck again, suckled at his favorite area because he could feel your cock throb against him, desperate to be freed from the fabric. 

you watched him in the moonlight as john began undoing your clothes, leaving a wake of hot kisses down your body the more you unveiled before him—cold, but john’s mouth made up for it as it wrapped around you like a warm glove. no warning whatsoever, but you preferred that, shuddering when he worshipped your body like a knight to a prince; calmed caresses to your calves while he polished your cock with godly licks. 

john’s fingers spidered up your legs and his palm found its way to your ass again, spanking one cheek hard enough for you to suddenly thrust your cock into his mouth and down his warm throat. “oh, fuck-“ 

he moaned around you, vibrations riding your thick veins as it would take a electrifying trip up north until you moaned, pleaded with him to be fucked—to no avail, simply because he was stubborn. 

briefly, john let you go with a slimy pop to stroke you, standing back up to kiss you in midst. you tasted yourself, the saltiness of your pre-cum lining your taste-buds as his tongue ran over yours in a wet and sloppy affair. “god, you taste so good…”

simultaneously, your hand worked at his cock, under-handing the weight of it with slow strokes—to the intimate arousal of your sluggish tongues moving with one another. it wouldn’t be long until you found yourself pressing into him again, gliding your wet cock against his, spreading and sharing john’s thick saliva between the two muscles.

your lips never his, neither did your hand on his cock—both of your cocks now, clumsily stroking—even when john began to prod at your hole with his finger, lubed up seconds before, teasing. only then, you pulled away when his finger slid into you with careful ease, and you flushed forward.

he embraced you with one arm around your body, holding you still while he worked you open, curling inside of you deeper with quickening intervals. you could practically come undone from this, but you refrained from doing so, distracting yourself with kisses to john’s chest, then his nipples, sucking hard to counter the overwhelming pleasure.

but he had the upper hand on you, only realizing when you immediately flexed around him when he pushed into you with another finger—slight difficulty, and so he worked you open once again. though, it doesn’t last long because he wanted to feel the tight stretch you’d provide for him—a heavenly need you’d happily supply. 

without any guidance, you bent over the bed and pushed your hips out, and he held you close. you laid there bare before him, looking back completely vulnerable while john toyed with you, taunting your arousal as he slid his cock in between your ass cheeks, wet and sticky from the lube. 

“come on…” you almost whined out into the sheets, refraining yourself from wiggling your hips. 

his silhouette didn’t budge and he only agitated your impatience even further by tracing your pucker with the plump tip of his cock, slow and teasing with a smirk you could hear. “you want me that bad?”

“fuck,” you were never one to admit things easily, and this wasn’t going to be the start of it. equally as stubborn as john was, you groaned into bed again and used your core to push back at his taunts. you began reaching back amid his continuing tease to grab ahold of his length. “if you’re not going to fuck me, then i’m going to-“

john’s reflexes were fast. as soon as you wrapped your hand around him, he pinned you further into the bed with a firm shove to your back. your chest stung when it rubbed harsh against the sheets and you immediately let go, lying pliant under his force. “you’re going to what?”

you struggled to move—to escape from his hold—but he was stronger in every way possible. every struggle was met with an ache to your body as he barely used a fourth of his strength to hold you down.

and your cock couldn’t have gotten harder.

“I’m going to-“ before you could respond, your throat dried up as john pushed himself inside of you with one slow yet rugged thrust, pushing heat back in, and filling your hole up with more. “f-fuck!” every muscle in your body tensed and you shouted out, almost a whimper.

his cock was thick inside of you. you can feel every pulse, every vein as he worked himself into you, back and forth with deep and slow thrusts, painfully stretching you out. it knocked the breath out of you and your legs wobbled, feeling your current stance weakening as your toes curled into the floor, desperately clinging onto the arrival of your soreness.

but you loved it. you loved how barely prepped you were because you can feel every inch of him reaching deep inside and violating your hole with the uttermost disrespect. he held your wrists together, your arms back and your chest pushed forward while your cock rubbed against the bed, and fucked into you—faster, harder. “look at you, fuck. you take cock like it’s nothing, hm?“

“m-mmm!” you whimpered out in response, your breath hitching as he repeatedly slammed his hips into you, continuously knocking any thought out of you. the painful pleasure was dizzying, finding solace in muffling your moans into the covers. your breath warmed your cheeks as you rocked into the bed from impact, gliding your cock in between the bed and your pelvis along. 

there was an ache in your shoulders, in your arms, in your wrists, but john’s cock overpowered every feeling to the point where they became numb. all there was left was john’s rapture and you basked in it. the heaviness of the sex-filled air, the humidity of your bodies when john decided to push his all of his weight onto you and fuck you like you were nothing but a void, the warmth of his breath when he kissed your shoulder and neck, and the sting when he bit.

overwhelming was an understatement of your current state of euphoria. you took him in and overloaded yourself into his pleasure. every thrust, every breath was submerged into you, compelled to mirror even a fraction of the pleasure john felt, and it was only when his cock drove into your prostate with unbeatable force that you did—tenfold.

“oh, fuck! don’t stop,” you cried out, desperate in pushing back against him because you never knew if john would pull away anytime soon. “fuck me just like that, fuck!”

and he doesn’t. john was a man of promise and he delivered your pleas with force and speed, letting go your wrists to spread your cheeks apart and watch you be fucked open with his thick cock, growing more swollen with every passing second. you can feel his balls following his thrusts, swinging against your sweaty skin and creating the most delectable sounds. “like that, yeah? you like my cock, just like that?”

“f-fuck, yes!”

in this moment, you were his, under his control, and selfishly captured when john devastated your prostate with one more powerful thrust to your demands, and you found the stars. they resided in the back of your eyelids as you came—thick and heavy—in between the sheets and your twitching body. 

it wouldn’t be long until john joined you in your trip to heaven, his grasp on your hips hard and bruising as he yanked you back and met your ass to his cock one last time in uniting your body with his. 

warmth began to fill you as john came undone, shooting deep inside of you. his hips slowed, but never came to a stop as you clenched around him, tight and yearning for his seed, and with that, he milked himself inside of you, giving you all of him and what was left of him—creamy and thick. 

his breath was heavy in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back, and you groaned, coming down from the high that you just experienced. sleep approached for the both of you, but he maintained the steadiness of his hips, spreading his load in you as if he was marking his territory.

“so... how long until you’re leaving?”

“mmmph, four more days….”

"good."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[6lostgirl6]

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

Your Protector

Pairing: Yandere!John Wick x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One that's both terrifying and alluring.

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright then." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You simply didn’t care. 

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

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

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

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed

[l1tw1ck]

Clingy

bottom!afab!sub John Doe x top!masc!dom Reader

☆ Word Count: 958 ☆

↳ [REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Yandere, Face Fucking, Sir Kink, Riding, Nipple Sucking, Orgasm Delay, Squirting, Creampie

You can't go a day without John Doe by your side or at a distance. Everywhere you go, they follow. No matter where. It was starting to get annoying. They even kill people for you, all those close to you are gone and all you’re left with is John.

John clings onto your arm as you walk home, their signature grin on their face. “Can we do it today?” He asks, rubbing his head on your arm.

You sigh. “Sure.” You reply, stepping into your house. You don't have much patience to deal with them today so at least they'll do something worth your while. Having sex is one of the few instances in which you're not annoyed with his presence.

You plop down onto the couch and John scurries over to slot himself in between your open legs, wasting no time getting your length out of its confines. They tuck their hair behind their ears before darting their tongue out and licking the tip of your cock. John drags their long tongue along your shaft, wrapping the unnatural appendage around it and getting you hard. You groan in pleasure as his warm mouth swallows your cock, his tongue still wrapped around your length as he sucks you off. He looks into your eyes as he does so, a red blush strewn across his cheeks.

You grip his hair and force him to move faster, his previous pace too slow for you. John moans as you fuck his face, happily letting you take over. He doesn't gag or drag his teeth along your shaft, one of the few things you love about him. He makes for a good cock sleeve. He reaches down into his pants to touch himself, jerking off his bottom growth as you make a mess of him. You make him deep throat you while letting out sounds of pleasure as he takes your cock without issue. John speeds up his hand movements, loving the noises you make. It tells him that he’s making you feel this good, that his mouth is bringing you this much pleasure.

“You’re better off as my cock sleeve.” You roll your head back. John blushes even harder, eyes rolling back as he orgasms. His moans vibrate along your shaft, bringing you closer to your peak. You pick up the pace, aggressively fucking his mouth before slowing down and dumping your load down his throat.

You pull John off of you, a cute expression on his face that almost makes you forget why he annoys you so much.

“Mo- more..?” He looks at you sweetly.

“If you stop following me around and killing off every person I talk to, I’ll give you more.”

If they stop, will you keep giving them what they want? Just the idea of it makes them excited. “Okay!” They grin.

You stand up and force them to lay on the floor stomach first. John raises their ass high and looks back at you with an intense and excited expression. You unzip their jeans and tug them down, not surprised to see how damp his underwear is. After taking off his boxers, you align your length with his hole and shove yourself inside their warm and welcoming pussy. John bites their lip, eyes rolling back as you fuck into him roughly.

“Yes!” John moans like a shameless slut. “Harder!”

“You don't get to make orders, whore.” You spank their ass.

They moan in response. “Sorry, sir~!”

You grip John’s waist tightly, fucking him even harder. You use your other hand to grab his hair and pull him back. His mouth hangs open, more moans falling out of him. “If you're good, I’ll come inside.”

They shiver. “I- I’ll be guh- good, sir~! So good~!”

“Yeah? You won't come before me, right?”

“I pro- promise!” They nod rapidly. They always come first but now that they're presented with a reward, they’ll try harder to hold back.

“That's a good demon.” You flip them onto their back and push up their shirt. You grope his breast, your mouth occupying the other, and start fucking him at the same pace. John rolls their head back, literally drooling as you stimulate all but one of their pleasure points. They're not sure if they can keep their promise anymore.

“Wa- wait-” They feel their orgasm quickly approaching. “I wah- wanna ride you, sir!”

You stop completely. “..Okay.” You pick him up and sit down on the couch with him still on your cock. John pulls their shirt off completely and starts riding you, moving slowly and sensually. You grope his chest, returning to once again give them the love they deserve. John moans softly as you suck on their nipple.

“Does it feel good?” They ask, gyrating their hips.

You pull away for a moment. “Yeah, move a little faster.”

They pick up the pace, rising up before forcefully slamming down onto your cock. Your moans are muffled by his breast but he can tell you like it. “Are you gonna come, sir?”

You take your mouth away from his chest and nod. You lean back, reaching your peak. John stares at you intensely, focused on how attractive they think you look when you orgasm. A grin grows on their face as soon as they feel your cum flooding their insides. They slow their movements to a halt and wait for your instructions. You rub their clit in circles, causing them to subconsciously roll their hips. You don't mind the slightly overwhelming sensation and help him get to his peak. John holds onto your shoulders and throws his head back, squirting.

“You’ll be good from now on, right? No more killing or stalking.”

“I promise.” John nods, looking at you hazily.

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Secrets We Keep

Secret Garden

Category: Drabble

John Wick X Reader

Warning: Allusions (and mentions) to murder, subtle yandere traits and threats, intimidation.

Unedited

It was late, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She simply laid on the bed, starring at the ceiling above, letting flashbacks and thoughts consume her while her wristwatch on the nightstand ticked.

A gift.

She wished she could cry this out but she felt heavy. Heavy and—-

The doorbell rang and her breathing stopped. She waited, holding her breath for a few moments.

The ringing of her doorbell invaded the otherwise quiet apartment once more. She sighed, feeling the echoes of her thumping heartbeat.

The doorbell rang again, accompanied by knocking this time. 

Letting out a shuddering breath, she jumped out of her bed and grabbed her housecoat, slipping in it as she padded towards the door. Looking through the peephole, she shut her eyes and sighed. 

She saw this coming.

Putting the chain-link on, she unlocked the door, allowing the light from the building corridor to flood in from the tiny gap.

“Hello (Y/N).” He stood tall, dark eyes staring down at her from the gap “I’m here just to talk.” 

His voice gave away nothing. Always quiet, polite and to the point. But she could not trust that now– could not trust him anymore– now that she knew.

“John, I saw nothing—”

“There won’t be a chain-link holding your door then.” He cut her off, only to sigh and soften his voice “I promise I just want to talk.”

“How do I trust that?” She felt bile rising to her throat as she spoke, struggling to keep her voice steady.

John leaned closer, making her flinch step away.

“Because if I wanted anything other than to just talk,  this chain-link or door, or any door, can do nothing to stop me.” His tone did not change, nor did his voice raise.

He was calm as ever and she knew that there was no lie in his words. Feeling cornered and stripped of any other option, she unlocked the chain-link, letting the tiny but sturdy chain hang against the door as it opened wide in a smooth motion.

John stepped into her home in silence before gently closing the door shut. Her hold on her phone tightened instinctively. Although it was in her pocket, she prayed that he took no notice of that.

He loomed over her, dressed like any other man she would pass by. A plain white shirt, a pair of denims and a leather jacket. No one could picture him killing a man with a pencil. But she saw him do that two nights ago, and it would never be the same between them.

She had spent the last two days, terrified and paranoid. It was only a matter of time before he came for her, and there he stood, looming over her– the grim reaper dressed as a civilian. But even if his deep, brooding eyes pinned her down without giving away an ounce of his thoughts, she could at least try to evade her demise.

“John, I will forget everything I saw. I promise, I will not report you, not spill anything about it—”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

She flinched when he switched on the lights, illuminating the room. Under the light, she realised, he looked slightly less ominous. More human. His eyes remained brooding but she thought she saw it soften slightly. 

No, it had to be the lighting.

He sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I did not want you to find out like this.” 

No, if he could, she would have never found out what he did for a living.

“But now that you know, I want to come clean. So that we can start anew.”

(Y/N) gulped. Starting anew was out of question. After whatever she had witnessed, she wanted to do nothing with John, no matter how much it would pain her. Maybe love was not for her. 

“John…I thought it wasan understood fact that…” she trailed of, licking her lips as a frown settled on his face.

“What?”

“That—you know after what I saw and—I don’t think we shouldseeeachotheragain.” she hurried through words, scrambled through thoughts all the while trying not to shake under his gaze.

He sligthlty titled his head. His eyes gleamed under the lighting in a way that distinctly reminded her of the carnage he was capable of. 

“No.”

There was no question mark, or even uncertainty. He was declaring, not questioning. And that made her hold tighten over her phone.

“John I—”

“I know you’re scared right now.” he contemplated aloud “I understand. But we are still, very much one–together.” His voice lowered, but there was a sharpness to it.

Like he was waiting. Waiting to pounce.

She gulped, feeling beads of sweat appearing on her nose and above her lips. She waited with bated breath. But he only gazed down at her for a long moment, until she looked away, unable to look into his eyes any longer. The longer she looked, the more it remind her of…of the night.

“I will get going for now. Get some rest, Love.” He spoke after a long, tense pause.

And for the first time since his visit she felt she could breath in relief. She heard the sound of opening of her apartment door–

“I will see you tomorrow, at the cafe around the corner.” he declared, making her look at him.

He was clearly not done with her.

“Also…There is no use of calling the police. It won’t make any difference.” His gaze dropped to her pocket where she held the phone.

Her throat was suddenly parched as she met his unreadable gaze before he gently shut the door behind him.

*****

So, what do you think?

[feinv]

My period started and all I want is JW to put his massive hand on my lower stomach and make the cramps go away.

(I didn’t get to see my IRL loving husband today because my cramps were absolutely pissers.)

-H

john wick x f!reader. period stuff. fluff & a loving husband <3

this man would be stressing more than you on your period cuz he knows your emotions are all over the place, and if last month all you wanted was to be left alone, it could be the complete opposite this time. either way, he always has a drawer of your favorite snacks ready and if you want something else he would be on his feet in a second and take his car keys, telling you he would be back in fifteen minutes.

obviously he got a heating pad for you, but it never did much help. you were convinced his hands would do the job better, and lucky for you, you were right. ;)

so when you two were cuddling in the bed in a weird position with a random tv show playing on the laptop, your body shifted closer to his as he spooned you from behind. you guided his hands under your shirt and onto your lower stomach. a contented sigh left your mouth at that, unsure if it was the feeling of his lips leaving soft kisses on your neck, or just the fact that he was a literal walking human furnace, and his warm hands felt so so nice against your exposed flesh, his thumb drawing soothing circles and grazing your belly button every now and then.

“feeling better?” he whispered in your ear as he felt your whole body relax, his usually stoic and harsh voice always so caring and affectionate towards you.

you mumbled something resembling a yes as you felt yourself dozing off in his arms, the excruciating pain finally fading away. <3

[leosxrealm]

lando norris x male! assassin! reader

don’t have a fic but i do have a moodboard for it. based on this

[joonie7007]

AYOOOO ‼️😨 WHY AM I HEARING TGIS WHILE TRYING TO RIZZ UP JOHN WICK AING NO WAYYY 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

Obsessive movies will always have a place in my heart / when I first heard this while watching the boy next door I knew for the first time jlo cooked in that movie LIKE OMMYGAAAAWDD >_< !!! ( theirs more movies probably but this one 🔛🔝

Domain expansion: better vocabulary CRINGEEEE IM GONNA VOMIT IN MY SLEEP 🗣️🗣️ “ h-hey 🤖🤖🤖 w-w-what r u d-d-doing” 😵‍💫🤖🤖👾 >_<

( bro gotta drop his pants idc anymore 🫵🏼😈 )

[yandereworlds]

Even more new bots!

I’ve been having a lot of time on my hands, so I’ve made a HUGE batch of new yandere bots. Since I’ve noticed you guys seem to really love them, I’ve been considering making a Discord server where I could receive suggestions from you guys or even take special requests! Please let me know your thoughts and feel free to give me any feedback.

With that out the way, here’s the new bots!

Joe Goldberg (Yandere)

Joel Miller (Yandere)

John Wick (Yandere)

Demetrius (Crimelord OC Yandere)

Dr. Laurence (Doctor OC Yandere)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

So in your Yandere Vincent de Gramont Headcanons

do you think he eventually talked his girlfriend/boyfriend round to have a proper relationship?

Honestly, that all depends on how strong your will is when rejecting Vincent's advances. He's the image of a gentleman with enough money to build another planet if he wanted to, so to have you resist giving in to his grandiose acts of love are, from his point of view, beyond frustrating.

So, if you ever did agree to enter a proper, requited relationship with him, he's absolutely ecstatic. Has to resist the urge to throw a party in honour of this momentous occasion.

Just be warned that, if you thought he was down bad before, you've seen nothing yet. The lengths of his exponential need to keep you close and safe multiply by unfathomable measures the second you've willingly taken him as your partner.

God help the person who discovers this after getting a bit too close to you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist

[cyberwears]

Think of me, I'll never break your heart

Ch.1: The Assassin and the Broker

John Wick X male reader

A/N: this one is a purely because I wanted to write and wanted a club setting lmao. the way that the reader reacts after drinking is how my experience with taking shots. I'm 100% sure that John is out of character but I don't care. I do plan on making this a series if it gets enough attention. Either way, enjoy and as always, never proof read and always self indulgent lmao. story starts under the cut. Gif credit to @jurassic-park-girl

WC: 1.8k words

As John entered the club, he was met with a multitude of lights and loud music that sounded garbled over the speakers. The air was hot in the large room, and the walls were lined with partygoers on whatever substance they could buy or find. Bodies were pressing against each other, grinding to the beat of whatever trap or EDM music was being pumped through the speakers. John was never really one for clubs or loud music, but his contact insisted on doing information exchange at this underground club, away from most prying eyes.

John walked up to the bar and placed a gold coin on the counter, sliding it to a bartender, who sent John a downward nod, handed him a drink, and handed him a note saying to go into the VIP section. John takes his drink and heads back for the VIP section. He walks down the hallway, the lights becoming more faded and more cool-toned the further he walks. The music became quiet as he headed down the hall. Along the hall, there were several doorways, some open and empty, some closed, with conversations going behind them (either meetings, deals, or erotic desire). As John got to the end of the hallway, he raised his hand and knocked on the door in a pattern, the sound seeming to reverberate down the hallway.

“Come in.” A voice sounded through the door, muffled but clear enough for John to hear. He walked in, shutting the door behind him. John sat as the figure across from him started speaking. The man was dressed sharply with a half mask, hair out of his face, as he started speaking again. 

“I hope your trip wasn’t too rough; seeing your line of work, I can only imagine how many people try to come after you. I was talking to Winst—alright, I get it; you’re here for information. Fine, here,” (y/n) said as he passed a folder across the table, taking the hint to stop with extra talk from the glare (y/n) received from John. Sitting back in his chair, he motions for John to open the folder with the information on his next target. John studied the information and listened to the clinking of the ice in the bottom of (y/n)’s glasses as he finished his drink. His eyes glanced up, meeting the sharp, snake-like gaze that sat skewed by a sheer curtain of hair as (y/n) sat forward, his face pressed against his knuckles as he leaned onto his fist. He looked bored as John looked over the folder that held the information about his next target and their general location.

John nodded in contemplation as he went to stand, tucking the folder into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. (y/n) followed suit quickly as he held out a hand for John to shake as a gesture of good faith. As John clasped (y/n)’s hand, he noticed that there were sleeves of tattoos going down his arms and on the back of his hand. Once their hands separated, John turned around and went to leave the dimly lit room. (y/n) watched John walk down the hallway, (y/n) slinking out of the room behind him, the blue and purple lighting off the hallway lighting his skin. The black light made the whites in (y/n)’s outfit light up and shine in the otherwise relatively dim hallway. (y/n)’s outfit was a stark contrast to John’s all-black suit.

Before John got to the end of the hallway, (y/n) placed a hand on his shoulder, slipping a card into his pocket and swinging his body around John as he joined the crowd of bodies that were lost in the ecstasy of music and dance that drew him in like a charm. John watched as (y/n) danced and draped himself over the other patrons of the club. He noticed (y/n)'s eyes on him the whole time, watching as he winked and laughed loudly, fully disappearing in the crowd as he was swept away by the music and crowd.

John felt a shiver go down his spine as he walked back over to the bar and ordered another drink. As he waited, he made small talk with the bartender that he had given the coin to earlier in the night.

“Hey, is the guy with the half-mask a regular?” John asked the bartender as he waited for his drink, trying to keep a low profile for (y/n). The bar is pretty slow at the moment.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I see hundreds of people wearing and not wearing half masks every day," the bartender said as he set John's drink down. John sighed out a quiet huff and slid another coin across the bar to the man. He watched as the bartender slipped the coin into his pocket and placed a photo of (y/n) on the bar. He was not wearing his mask, but John recognized his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s him. Is he here often?” John said as he sat down on the stool. The bartender nodded as he wiped down a clean glass and placed it on a rack as he placed the rag into a sanitizer bucket, looking at John.

“What do you want with him? He didn’t do anything stupid again, right? Everyone under and on the High Table knows who you are. Are you here for him?” The bartender asked, his face falling. John shook his head as he watched the bartender start making his drink. The bartender nodded as he placed the finished drink in front of John. He grabbed the photo and placed it back into his pocket as he went to walk away. John went to grab his wallet from his back pocket to pay for his drinks, but the bartender stopped him. 

“Your drinks have been paid for already,” he said as he walked away from John to go help another customer. John’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought about who would pay for his drinks.

“Who?” He asked as before the bartender was out of earshot. The bartender chuckled and pointed behind John before walking away. When John turned around to see (y/n) walking up to him, leaning against the bar next to him,

“I heard the owner of the club is really sweet on you, Mr.Wick,” (y/n) said as he waved down the bartender, ordering three Vegas Bombs. John’s eyebrow raised as he turned to look at (y/n). John sipped on his drink as he watched (y/n) take off his mask and throw back the Vegas bombs. (y/n)’s face and body twitched as a groan ripped from his throat as he drank the liquor. (y/n)’s left eye was screwed shut as his face went sour. (y/n) felt the liquor slide down his throat and settle in his stomach. John watched (y/n) jump up and down a couple times as he shook his hands out. John chuckled as (y/n) did that little shake-out.

“I never liked the taste of booze. Gotta keep the night fun, though,” (y/n) said as he leaned against the bar and signaled to the bartender for a couple more shots.

“Boss, you should slow down. I know your last client was already here tonight, but I don’t really want to drag your drunken ass  home."The bartender said as he placed the shots on the counter.

“Leonard, when was the last time you had to do that?” (y/n) asked as he took both shots and repeated his little shake-out dance. John kept quiet as he heard the bartender call (y/n) ‘Boss’.

“Last week the bouncer had to drag your drunk ass home after dealing with—" the bartender started before (y/n) leaned over the counter and put his finger across Leonard’s lips.

“Shhh. No talking about job information in front of other clients and patrons. Now you have things to be doing. Off you go.” (y/n) said as he waved off the bartender. John’s eyebrow was raised while watching (y/n).

“The bartender called you boss." John asked (y/n) as he leaned over.

“Huh? Oh that? Yeah, he feels the need to do that since I employed him to scout for information talent and work behind the bar. Enjoy your night, John,” (y/n) said as he sat down on the stool next to John. John nodded as he turned back to his drink as (y/n) turned to join the wave of partygoers again.

The bartender sighed as he took the shot glasses from where (y/n) was standing as he mumbled about how he’s going to be picking (y/n) off one of the couches later. John overheard this and kept quiet as he heard the bartender talking to himself. John stood up and walked away from the bar, disappearing into the crowd, keeping an eye on (y/n) through the night, watching as he continued to drink. John sighed as he watched (y/n) get more and more drunk.

After the club closed and the key holder locked down the building for the night, John helped (y/n) into his car and headed back to his house (seeing as if he didn’t know (y/n)’s address). When John pulled into his garage, he looked over to (y/n) before shaking his head slightly and mumbling about how he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved with (y/n) outside of information collection. John walked around, opened the passenger door, undid the seatbelt, and picked up (y/n). John walked through his garage, kicking open the door gently. As he walked through the doorway, he heard Dog running to him and continued to move through his first floor and into a guest room. 

After laying (y/n) down on the bed, he worked on taking off (y/n)’s shoes, coat, and mask. John went to leave and sighed as he turned around to strip the rest of (y/n)'s clothes down to his boxers. He pulled the covers over (y/n)’s sleeping form. Collecting the clothes and mask, John left the room, closed the door, and headed down to the laundry room. He pulled (y/n)'s wallet and other items out of his pockets, setting them on the kitchen counter as he started the wash after putting (y/n)’s clothes in the washer, then walking into his bathroom and grabbing some painkillers and a cup of water before taking them back to the guest room where (y/n) was and putting them on the bedside table before leaving the room.

John went into his room, taking his suit off and placing the information on his desk. He then sat on the bed before laying down and falling asleep, several questions lingering in his mind.

[6lostgirl6]

Yandere Alphabet - John Wick

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, play time's over."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

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

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

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

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

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

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @britany1997

[l1tw1ck]

True Love

bottom!afab john doe x top!masc reader

☆ Word Count: 733 ☆

☆ [EVENT REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used ☆

CW: PWP, Breeding, Belly Bulge, Hair Pulling, Creampie

John clutches the sheets, loud moans leaving his lips as you fuck him into the mattress. He watches with wide eyes as his stomach bulges from your cock, grinning as you breed their tight cunt with vigorous thrusts. You already came once earlier, making a mess of the bed.

"So guh- good~!!" John exclaims, rubbing their clit as they get close to an orgasm.

"You're so pretty, Doe." Your words cause them to come immediately, walls squeezing you tightly. He blushes heavily, barely able to speak as your thrusts become rougher.

You bring him into a messy kiss, your hand reaching to grope his chest. They moan into your mouth, feeling your thrusts turn sloppy as you pump them full with your cum a second time. You make slow, short thrusts as you pull away from the kiss and move down to his chest. You lick one of his nipples, thumb circling the other. John moans in pleasure, squeezing you repeatedly. You suck and pull on the sensitive buds as you gently fuck them. You suck and lick his hard nipple eagerly, making him tighten around you.

You switch sides, enveloping the other nipple in your mouth and treating it the same as the other. “Yes-” John whimpers. “‘M gonna- come again-” They place their hands on your head to keep you from pulling away. You keep going in favor of pleasing them, it's not long before Doe orgasms, walls spasming around you as they do so. It's easy to make John come, just a few touches could do it.

You pull away and turn him onto his stomach, lifting his ass up before thrusting into him again. You grab a fistful of their long hair and pull, lifting their head to hear their beautiful moans.

"Ah~! More~!" Doe cries out in pleasure as your grip gets stronger. "Breed me, [Name]~!"

You slam into him harder, using his hair as leverage. You snap your hips against his ass and roll your head back in pleasure, his pussy feels amazing. How could anyone feel so damn good? He just keeps sucking you in, making you hungry for more.

John chants the words, “I love you” over and over. They roll their eyes back, tongue darting out and dripping drool onto the pillow. He looks completely fucked out. “Sss- so good~! [Name]~! I lo- love you~!” He moans loudly, repeating your name over and over. He loves how your name feels coming out of his mouth.

“Gon- co- come~!” He exclaims, barely able to speak as he orgasms.

You let them ride out their orgasm before turning onto your back, John on top of you. They get the memo and start bouncing, their stamina just as high as yours. Their back arches as your cock hits him in the best spots. He cries out your name as you take over, fucking him on your length aggressively. He can tell you’re about to come, causing his grin to grow wider.

You slam them down one last time before filling them with your seed once again. John leans down to kiss you, tongue exploring your mouth as he rolls his hips. You run your hand through his hair as he does so.

After a while of making out, you pull away. John looks at you with heart eyes, blushing and breathing heavily. You turn them onto their back before moving into a mating press, fucking John deeper and harder than before. "Fuck- have I ever told you how fucking good you feel?" You groan. John grins bashfully, moaning louder as you hit the deepest parts of them. Their eyes once again roll to the back of their skull, getting overwhelmed by how good it feels.

“Gonna knock you up, sweetheart, gonna fill you up til your tummy swells.” You promise.

“Mm- Yes~! Please~!” John moans happily. “I love you~!”

You tell him you love him too as you fuck into their warm cunt aggressively, thrusting with the pure intention of breeding your lover. You press kisses on their cheeks before bringing him back into a kiss, his long tongue wrapping around your normal one. He kisses you back passionately, tightening around your cock.

You’re already close again, fucking him in this position feels too good for you to hold back. You slow down before burying yourself balls deep inside his pussy, filling him up with your spend.

[sweetwolfcupcake]

A Secret Garden

Main Masterlist

Welcome to the secret garden of Wicked Indulgence. The themes remain dark, and the romance remains murky.

Only the universe and characters change.

Note-- This is not my main masterlist or the area of focus, I make no promises here. I cannot give it as much time as I give to my main masterlist. But this is a sweet indulgence.

So...Welcome to my secret garden, not popular like my other works but relevant to me and those who would indulge.

Be warned...This is no place for the faint-hearted or the sweet angels. Definitely not minors.

Banners, headers, and dividers by @cafekitsune

John Wick

An introduction

Drabbles

Daisies

Secrets We Keep

A Gentleman

Series

Wildflower-- Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Neo Anderson

An Introduction

One-Shots

Sweet Dreams

Loading...

An Introduction

Swords in the Court: One

Prompt Requests (Now Open)

Neo x Reader: Under The Skin

Collaborative Pieces

The Devil's Triangle(Yandere): Tex Johnson x Reader x John Wick (and John Constantine)

With the evil geniuses: @johnwickb1tsch

@treedaddymcpuffpuff and @tammykelly

More Under Construction

General Requests Are Closed

The banner and gifs are not created by me. The credit goes to their respective owners.

[miniminiujb]

"Não tinha dessa cor"

John Wick x leitor masculino (male reader)

John Wick estava desfrutando de um momento de paz e tranquilidade em sua casa. Ele finalmente conseguiu se afastar da violência e encontrar um pouco de sossego ao lado ao seu lado.

Enquanto John Wick refletia sobre sua vida e se recuperava de suas cicatrizes, ele ouviu um barulho vindo da porta da frente. Curioso, ele se levantou e se dirigiu até ela, apenas para se surpreender ao encontrar diversos adoráveis cachorrinhos dentro de uma grande caixa de papelão nos seus braços.

Com os olhos arregalados de surpresa, John ficou sem palavras ao ver tamanha quantidade de cãezinhos em sua casa. Ele olhou para você, que parecia um pouco envergonhado, e então falou calmamente: "B/n, quantos cachorrinhos você trouxe para nossa casa?"

Desesperadamente você tentou encontrar uma desculpa razoável, gaguejou: "28.... Eu... eu não tinha essas cores de cachorrinhos em casa, John. Eu sabia que eles precisavam de um lar e não podia deixá-los na rua."

John pausou por um momento, enquanto continuava a observar a adorável algazarra existente em seu lar. Seu coração se aqueceu ao ver o seu esforço em ajudar aqueles animais desamparados. Ele sabia que seu amor por você só crescia a cada dia.

Finalmente, um pequeno sorriso apareceu nos lábios de John. Ele se aproximou de você e o abraçou carinhosamente, dizendo: "Você sabe que não poderíamos deixá-los na rua, não é? Obrigado por resgatá-los."

John então embarcou na nova jornada de cuidar e treinar os 28 cachorrinhos.