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[discoscoob]

gif by @scarlettspectra pictures from Pinerest

Hunger

A/N: I love vampires, John and Alucard. That's why I chose his second identity, Alucard (Hellsing). But to be honest, you don't have to know this character in this plot. Pairing: vampire!John Wick(Alucard) x F!Reader. Tags: 18+, NSFW, a smut without a plot Warnings: vampires, blood, split personality disorder, oral sex, F!receive Word count: 2,0 k Synopsis: You and John had just begun dating, both falling deeply in love. He had confided in you about his split personality disorder. But the second personality has never appeared until today.

As you stood in the kitchen, deftly chopped vegetables for a salad, the sudden knock on the door startled you. With a jolt, the knife blade slipped, nicking your finger and eliciting a hiss of pain. You watched as blood emerged from the tip of your finger, flowing steadily. Swiftly, you brought it to your lips, sucking on the wound and tasting the distinct metallic tang in your mouth.

Glancing through the window, you caught sight of black Dodge Charger outside. A faint smile briefly appeared on your lips, distracting you from the throbbing ache in your finger. The unexpected visitor was John.

Hurrying to the door, you hastily wiped your hands on a nearby towel before swinging it open. There stood John, rugged and confident, his dark hair swayed in the breeze.

"John," you greeted with a warm smile, meeting his burgundy red eyes.

"Y/N," he replied in his low raspy voice, planting a soft kiss on your lips. "Apologies for the unexpected visit. Just passing through, thought I'd say hi."

"Come in," you welcomed, your heart quickening as John entered your home."I just need to... well, you know — ," you trailed off, and he nodded in understanding. With that, you hastened back to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. John followed you, shedding his black jacket and draping it casually over the nearby chair. Walking over to the table he perched himself on the edge, observing your movements with interest.

"How was your day?" you inquired, your focus split between chopping vegetables and stealing glances at John over your shoulder. As your eyes met his, your heart  skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze.

"Better now." In his voice was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" you asked, attempting to redirect your attention to the task at hand, though finding it challenging with John's intense gaze fixed on you.

"Yeah."

You couldn't shake the sense that it was more than just about food.

Approaching the table from the same side where John was perched, you set a plate down. A gasp slipped from your lips when he leaned in, burying his nose in your hair and neck. Frozen in place, you were taken aback by the deliberate intensity of his deep inhale, as if he were savoring the scent of his prey before the final, deadly strike.

"You smell enticing," his voice muttered against your skin. You found yourself leaning in, irresistibly drawn to his presence and actions.

As you caught his eyes, you noticed his pupils were slightly dilated. You could feel the tension between you growing.

"Thanks," you mumbled, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Just grabbed some perfume at the market," you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you focused on the plate. Your heart raced, your attempt to appear nonchalant feeling futile as you knew he could sense every beat as clearly as the ticking of the old clock on the wall. Uncertain of his next move, you awaited his response with bated breath.

Surprisingly, his sharp gaze swept over you, from head to toe, before shifting towards the kitchen counter. It was as if he silently signaled his approval for you to proceed with whatever task awaited you there.

You went to fetch the meat from the stove, and for a brief moment, the heavy tension in the air dispelled for a moment. Returning to the table, you spoke up. 

"I like this smell... a combination of raspberries, musk, and—."

"Sandalwood," John interjected. 

"Yeah, right," you nodded, a small, self-conscious smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you set the plate of meat down on the table. It felt kind of silly to be listing perfume components to a vampire, that left you feeling a bit foolish.

"But that's not what I'm talking about," he said calmly, his gaze locked on your face as he detached from the table. "You're bleeding."

You looked up at him and it seemed to you that he had become taller than usual. He took a step towards you. With a jolt, you realized that the cut on your finger from earlier might have reopened.

"Oh," you exclaimed softly, holding up your cut finger with a nervous giggle. "It's okay, don't worry." 

He glanced at your cut finger, as if it were a minor distraction from what truly captivated him. His gaze then shifted from the wound to meet yours.

Feeling a sensation of constriction around your neck, you swallowed hard before finding the courage to speak. 

"Wait you mean… " your voice trailed off, drawn and hesitant, your mind struggling to accept what he was implying, "... that bleeding?"

As you took a step back, your heart pounded with a mix of fear and confusion. The chair behind you halted, causing you to flinch at the unexpected obstacle. John’s features transform from their usual sharp and stoic demeanor to something darker, something primal and unyielding

"John, you said you won’t drink my blood," you stated, your voice trembling with uncertainty as you tried to make sense of the situation.

He took another step closer, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. You were full of conflicting emotions —fear, desire, and uncertainty all battling within you.

"It was before I…we fell in love with you,"  his voice low and seductive you caught a glimpse of mischievousness in his red eyes.

John took another purposeful step closer, his imposing figure growing larger, casting a shadow over you.

You made an effort to keep your composure, despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

"John, you're embarrassing me," you managed to utter as you continued to back away. 

"There is no John anymore." The devilish curve of his smile unsettled you, causing your knees to weaken. "Your blood," he murmured in a hushed tone "It beckons to us… It's rich, vibrant, and intoxicating.'' His voice was low and resonant, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous hunger, "Our senses sharpen even more when it comes to you. We can detect your blood from miles away, more distinctly than any other." 

"I don't think that's a great idea…" you protested weakly, your voice still trembling with uncertainty.

"We apologize, my dear. We didn't ask for your consent. We have deep feelings for you, and we yearn for your blood. We don't wish to harm you. So, we have two options. One of them is to take blood directly from your vein, but isn't that dull?"

With each step back, your heart raced, but it wasn't fear anymore,  rather it was the anticipation of what lay ahead. You stumbled, then collapsed onto the couch, your breath hitching in your throat. Before you could gather your wits, he knelt between your legs, his movements deliberate and commanding as he began to unbutton your pants. 

"Has John showcased his physical capabilities to you?"

"N-no."  You shook your head. 

He grinned in response.

"You know, John is too…" he paused, his gaze drifting as he sought the right word, "…conservative. Unlike myself. So here I am, ready to save the day."

Feeling your struggles he spoke again.

"Oh, trust me, you're going to enjoy this." 

His grin, brimming with both amusement and superiority, spread across his face, slowly transforming into a smile. As his lips parted, revealing his teeth and sharp fangs, John’s unnaturally long tongue literally fell out of his mouth. It stretched out before you, twisting and writhing moving like it had a mind of its own.

Your eyes widened in shock.

"Oh shit!" you cried out, but he seemed unfazed by your surprise. 

Silently, he deftly discarded both your pants and panties in one swift motion. You tensed, feeling goosebumps run across your skin. He let out a low, appreciative whistle, admiring the smooth contours of your thighs and the inviting allure of your pussy.

"Just relax," he hissed, his grip firm on your bare thighs as he drew you closer with a possessive intent, positioning his head between your thighs. They possessed an insatiable thirst for power and control, dawning that you were completely at their mercy. 

"I'm not sure if —"

Your mouth fell open in amazement as he pressed his lips against your lower lips, your chin quivering slightly as you gasped for air. You grappled with his dark hair, torn between the urge to push him away or pull him closer, uncertain of your own desires at that moment. With fervent hunger, he devoured your pussy, emitting low, guttural groans of pleasure, savoring the taste of your blood.

Your craving for pleasure trumped your insecurities, leaving you unable to resist the temptation. Your fingers relaxed as you sank back into the cushions of the couch. A soft, breathy moans escaped your lips, mingling with his throaty hums.

With fervor, he skillfully sucked on your clit, hitting all the right nerves. After his tongue shifted to your throbbing entrance, making circles around it, teasing and arousing you further. His large hands firmly gripping your hips as his fingers sank into your flesh, holding you in place.

You peeked at him with your hazy eyes. His were shut, savoring the mingled taste of your blood and juices. Sensing your gaze, a mischievous grin spread across his lips as his tongue slowly slid into you, causing your toes to spread apart.

"Fuck…" you moaned, overwhelmed by the sensation.

John's long tongue explored every inch of your warmth inside, drawing gasps and writhes of pleasure from you. As it delved deeper, it seemed to grow thicker, filling you with a sensation of fullness and pressure.

His thumb began to circle your clit as his tongue fucked you, each movement driving you closer to the edge. You tilted your head back, releasing a sigh of pleasure as he found your g-spot, prompting you to synchronize your hip movements with his motions.

The climax building with each move. His pace quickened, his movements growing more intense, pushing you over the edge with a scream of pleasure. Your muscles clenched tightly around his tongue as he persisted in his ministrations. As you slowly came down from your high, you met his gaze.

His red eyes reverted to their usual stoic gaze, the smile gradually fading from his face as he withdrew from you.

"John?" you asked awkwardly as he looked at you, half-naked.

"I take it he did it," John said, rubbing his bloodstained cheek with his finger before licking it with pleasure.

You nodded in response, unable to utter a word as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Did he hurt you?" John asked in his usual voice, handing you your pants before rising to his feet. 

You shook your head.

"Did you enjoy it?" 

You nodded.

"I should've warned you. We...I was intoxicated by you," he admitted with regret in his voice.

"You should have been," you replied, finally coming to your senses and retrieving your pants. 

"Are you mad at me?" John's voice softened, tentative, as if fearing your answer.

"No John, I am not," you replied, trying to reassure him with a smile.

"Thank you. And thank you for letting us to —"

"It’s okay, John," you interrupted gently, sensing his discomfort, and changed the subject, "Are you staying for dinner?"

"No," John said, slipping on his jacket. You lowered your gaze.

"Sweetheart," he lifted your chin with a bent index finger, prompting you to look at him, "I promise next time I'll stick around."  You nodded as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. From your porch, you watched him head towards his car.

"Then until next time," you called after him, causing John to pause in his steps. He turned back, shooting you a mischievous glance over his shoulder.

"Until tomorrow," he replied with a smirk before continuing on his way.

[discoscoob]

༊*·˚ The Grieving Husband And Lost Widow — Part Two (John Wick X Fem!Reader)

Summary: (Y/N) had just met John after storming out of your now deceased husband's hospital room, the very room you've spent the last three weeks in to support your dying husband. After a brief introduction between the two, (Y/N) offers to get John a drink at the nearby bar. At the bar, (Y/N) would have a more wild night than you could've ever bargained for. part one, part two

Tonight would be (Y/N)'s first evening without your husband, your soulmate. So, what better way to get through the grueling hours by drinking the pain away with the now ex of an old friend of yours, who has also passed? It sounded just like what you needed after crying your heart out for the last few weeks. John was walking in long yet calculated strides, his eyes carefully scanning the environment around them. Although John didn't make any mentions of Helen, (Y/N) would be able to see the grief behind his eyes. Not knowing that Helen passed yet, (Y/N) decided to express your concerns for John.

"You lost someone, too, huh?" (Y/N) broke the tense silence between them, laying down each word with care and in a gentle voice that would be meant to soothe John.

"Yeah..." John answered, nodding his head slowly while staying vigilant. Although he was at first hesitant to add more, John would briefly glance over at (Y/N) as he noticed that you were taking off the black lace veil that was covering your tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes. A light then went off in John's head, finally recognizing who you were: one of Helen's friends.

"—My wife." Those last two words from John made your heart shatter like glass, instantly piecing together what he had meant by his answer. The memories that you made with Helen over the years made (Y/N) begin to tear up worse than before, but you did your best to stifle them back and maintain your composure. "I'm sorry," (Y/N) replied with sincerity.

John would pick up on the change of your voice, making him halt in his steps to turn to face towards you. "You look like you're freezing." He pointed out, making a small gesture of his hand in your direction before he reached both of his hands around his back to take off the coat that he was wearing. "Here, take this,"

"Oh..." You feel your cheeks heat up against the coldness of the rain that was falling onto your face. Although you were initially anxious to accept John's offer as the memory of your husband flashed through your mind once again, you suddenly felt the warm leather wrap around your back and arms.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem," John said with a light nod of his head. He then turned back to focus on covering more of the road ahead of the two until they would be able to spend the night at the bar together; hopefully, forgetting about their pain for a at least few hours. The two continued their walk down the sidewalk with John ensuring that (Y/N) wasn't cold from the rain or in any danger from the risks of walking out in the New York streets late at night. Wanting to learn more about the man you were now walking with, (Y/N) took in a sharp breath and decided on a question that you felt like he would be comfortable with answering. After all, it's an average question that nearly everyone asks each other.

"So...what do you do for work?" (Y/N) asked while keeping your voice calm and gentle as to not possibly strike an unpleasant response out of John. However, John's response was quick and calculated, like he was all too familiar with what his answer would be to the mundane question; one that he always knew he'd be asked often.

"I'm an attorney." John said nonchalantly, even shrugging his shoulders up a bit while making sure each step that he took held purpose, even if that only meant walking to a nearby bar with a friend of his dead wife.

"Really? My dad was an attorney." (Y/N) inquired with curiosity, your head tilting slightly to one side while following John along the stretching sidewalk.

"What about you?"

"Huh?" You ask, confused.

"What do you do for work?" John repeated (Y/N)'s question, turning his head in your direction briefly before returning his attention to the sidewalk and crowds ahead.

"Oh..." You nervously chuckle, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm a travel nurse."

"Hm, so you...save people?"

"I always try my best to."

John appeared to take your words to heart, but his expression suddenly shifted into a more solemn one as a thought crossed his mind. But, as he was about to speak it, you point out to the nearby bar that was bustling with other patrons who were going through the two front doors. Subconsciously, being the kind gentleman he always was with women, John began walking towards the door to open it for (Y/N). Upon entering the Red Circle, you would notice how loud and bright it was inside compared to the white and blue walls of the hospital you've practically confined yourself into for the sake of staying with your husband. You get a drink for yourself, and one for John to uphold your offer from earlier.

"To the loves of our lives?" John suggested, raising up the shot glass of whiskey in his hand with a barely noticeable smile - but, it was still there.

"To the loves of our lives."

With that, the night seemingly blurred by the two as they drank the heartbreak away of losing their significant others. However, you were a bit of a lightweight; even only having two or three drinks can lead you to having a wild and unforgettable night. (Y/N) and John stayed with each other throughout the night until you became interested in another man who was attempting to work his charm on you. The man, who introduced himself to you as "Seth", was charismatic and described himself to be an "ambitious businessman". Using all of the right words, you would eventually snap back into reality with your arm locked into Seth's.

"My, you look lovely tonight, милый (darling)."

That one damned word was all it took for John's ears to perk up and whip his head in (Y/N)'s direction, and that was when he noticed that you were about to leave the bar with Seth. Knowing Seth's history, John jumped into action and sprinted towards the both of you with a determined and fierce glare behind his eyes. "Она со мной." ("She's with me.") John spoke up coldly to Seth as he approached (Y/N)'s side and reached one of his hands out to your shoulder from behind. Seth didn't have to turn his head around to see who was standing behind him; he already knew just based on John's dangerously dark voice who it was.

"Бабай." ("Boogeyman.") Seth hissed with a distinct tone of hatred laced through his voice. Although he didn't make any sudden movements against (Y/N), John would be able to notice his grip tighten around your waist as a warning.

You just stand there, drunk and now more confused than ever. One minute, you were sobbing by the bedside of your dying husband. And now? You're in the local bar with two men seemingly starting an altercation between each other over you. All that you can do then is feel your heartbeat beginning to increase at a rapid rate as your mind raced with questions with the loudest of them all being:

"What the Hell did I just get myself into?"

special mentions: @br-24085

[discoscoob]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint

You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”

It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.

“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.

You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”

On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”

“Do not call me baby.”

“Alright. Sweetheart.”

“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”

“Thank you.”

You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.

They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.

“You okay?”

The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?

“I guess. Why?”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”

“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.

Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 

“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”

He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.

“You wish you hated me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.

Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.

“A parka.”

“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 

“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”

Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.

“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.

“Nice. No panties?”

“I am wearing panties.”

“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”

“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”

“You are having fun.”

“But you’re still listening.”

Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.

“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 

You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 

You laugh.

It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”

This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”

“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 

You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”

You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”

Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.

You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”

“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”

You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”

“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.

He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 

“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 

“Yeah, honey, I am.”

“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 

“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 

“No.”

“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 

He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.

“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”

“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 

“Good job. And too late.” 

“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 

He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”

She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 

You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 

“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.

“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 

“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.

“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.

“What was that?” 

His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.

“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.

“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.

“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”

“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”

You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”

“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 

His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 

Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah? You there, baby?”

You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.

“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 

“Y-yeah?”

“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”

You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 

“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 

It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 

That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 

He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”

“No.” But then, “a little bit.”

“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 

“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”

“Oh? Bullshit.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”

Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 

He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“No you won’t.” 

“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 

You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 

His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”

“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

[discoscoob]

·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS pt. 3 my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

📞ྀིྀི résumé : you want to get back at john, rebelling from his..recent advances, but was running away the right decision? (plot inspired by an ask! thank you for the thoughts, anon!)

1.6k words. tags: murder, death, violence.

୭ৎ thank you all for your patience ! this is a bit shorter than the previous chapters, but i finally finished part 3 of this fic. thank you all for the support ! (has not been proofread, so please excuse any errors!)

That phone call with Marquis…how inviting he was you thought, smirking at the fact that you were just about to go against John’s plans.

Payback.

Ignoring the voice of reason that whispered John's warnings in the depths of your mind, you slipped out of the Ritz hotel, a cloak of darkness enveloping you like a shroud.

“I’m going to go down to the lobby for some food,” You exit your room, announcing yourself to John. You tried to dress casual, so it wouldn’t raise his suspicions.

“Be quick,” His voice low as his gaze deadpanned at yours.

You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your steps making their way out the door, again, trying to remain casual until you took the spiral stairs to the first floor, and eventually, out the door.

The moon hung like a spectral guardian in the night sky, its silver light casting eerie shadows across the cobblestone streets of Paris.

The taxi ride was short, Marquis had wanted to meet you just outside of “le jardin du Luxembourg,”

As you approached the park, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a suffocating fog, clouding your senses with doubt and uncertainty.

With cautious steps, you ventured into the hushed interior of the gallery, the air heavy with the scent of freshly painted canvases and whispered conversations. Yet, instead of the elegant splendor you remembered, you were met with a scene straight from the depths of your worst nightmares.

There, bathed in the sickly glow of flickering candlelight, stood the Marquis, his usually immaculate appearance marred by a savage intensity as he loomed over a prone figure on the floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched in horror, unable to tear your gaze away from the grisly spectacle unfolding before your very eyes.

The Marquis’s movements were swift and precise, his hands a blur of motion as he plunged a gleaming dagger into the heart of his helpless victim. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sickening scent of death as the life ebbed from the victim’s eyes, leaving behind nothing but a hollow emptiness.

Desperation clawed at your chest as you struggled to make sense of the carnage before you, the reality of the situation sinking in with a bone-chilling finality. The Marquis was not the gentleman he pretended to be; he was a monster cloaked in the trappings of nobility, a predator lurking in the shadows of society.

Before you could react, the Marquis's cold gaze locked onto yours, sending a chill down your spine. In that moment, you knew that you were in grave danger, a witness to his unforgivable crimes.

“…you’re early,” He scolded, his tone followed with one of irritation and anger. He bores his piercing green eyes into yours, his face painted with annoyance.

“H-How could you..?!” You stammer, your words catching in your throat, you start stepping back slowly.

“I would stay here if I were you. We can talk,” he offered, trying to stay as calm as possible, keeping himself poised.

With a surge of adrenaline, you turned and fled into the night, the echoes of the actions of the Marquis ringing in your thoughts like a macabre symphony of madness. But even as you raced through the labyrinthine streets of Paris, a sense of impending doom loomed over you like a dark cloud, casting a pall over your every thought and action.

Meanwhile, John, ever vigilant in his role as your protector, patrolled the corridors of the hotel with a watchful eye. But as the hours stretched on and the night grew deeper, a sense of unease gnawed at his gut like a hungry beast. Something was amiss, a shadow lurking just beyond the edges of his awareness.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that John’s worst fears were realized. A sharp pang of dread pierced his heart as he entered your room, only to find it empty, the bed neatly made as if you had never been there at all. Panic surged through him like a tidal wave, driving him to scour every corner of the hotel in search of any sign of your whereabouts.

With each passing moment, John’s worry mounted, his mind racing with a thousand dire possibilities. Had you been kidnapped? Or worse, had you ventured into the clutches of the Marquis, heedless of the danger that lurked within his shadowy realm?

Driven by a single-minded determination, John embarked on a relentless pursuit, his footsteps echoing through the deserted streets of Paris as he followed the faint trail of clues you had left behind, checking back at the private drivers that served the hotel.

“I’m looking for a young woman. She took one of your taxis around 11:30,” He says softly to the receptionist, and in response she clicked on the keyboard, checking the records and history.

Now that John knows where you are, his panic only grows.

Even as you sought refuge in the darkness, a sense of dread gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, a silent reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond the reach of the flickering streetlights.

Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the darkness, a menacing figure cloaked in the shadows of the night. It was Chidi, the Marquis’s loyal enforcer, his cold gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that sent a shiver of fear down your spine.

“You shouldn’t have run,” Chidi’s voice was a low, menacing growl, his words dripping with malice as he advanced towards you, his movements deliberate and predatory.

“I won’t let you take me!” you spat, your voice trembling with a fierce determination to escape the clutches of the Marquis and his ruthless minions.

But even as you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. It was John, his steely gaze locking onto Chidi with a silent warning as he stepped forward to stand at your side.

“Back off, Chidi,” John’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, his eyes flashing with a fierce determination as he squared off against the menacing enforcer.

As John stepped forward to confront Chidi, the air crackled with tension, the anticipation of impending violence hanging heavy in the night.

Chidi, a formidable adversary with a reputation as fearsome as his name, squared his shoulders, his eyes narrowed into slits of malice as he regarded John with undisguised contempt.

"You think you can stop me, Wick?" Chidi's voice dripped with disdain, his lips curled into a cruel sneer as he flexed his muscles, readying himself for the inevitable clash.

"You may be good, but you're not that good."

John's response was a low, guttural growl, his fists clenched at his sides as he braced himself for the onslaught.

"I don't intend to let you harm her," he spat, his voice edged with a steely resolve that brooked no argument.

With a snarl of defiance, Chidi lunged forward, his movements fluid and precise as he unleashed a barrage of lightning-fast strikes aimed at John's vulnerable points. But John was no stranger to combat, his reflexes honed to a razor's edge by years of relentless training and experience.

With a grace that belied his age, John danced nimbly out of Chidi's reach, his movements fluid and precise as he deftly parried each blow with a skill born of instinct and muscle memory. Each clash of fists and feet echoed through the deserted streets, a symphony of violence played out against the backdrop of the Parisian night.

As the battle raged on, the two men locked in a deadly dance of death, their movements a blur of motion as they traded blows with a ferocity that bordered on primal. The sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberated through the air, punctuated by grunts of effort and the occasional hiss of pain.

But even as fatigue began to weigh heavy upon their limbs, neither John nor Chidi showed any sign of backing down. For them, this was more than just a fight; it was a battle for survival, a test of strength and endurance that would determine the outcome of their fates.

With a final, desperate surge of energy, Chidi launched himself at John with all the fury of a cornered beast, his fists a blur of motion as he unleashed a barrage of strikes aimed at John's vulnerable points. But John was ready, his defenses impenetrable as he weathered the storm of blows with a calm determination that bordered on unyielding.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. With a swift, decisive motion, John landed a devastating blow to Chidi's midsection, sending him crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. As Chidi lay sprawled upon the cobblestones, gasping for breath, John stood victorious, his chest heaving with exertion as he regarded his fallen adversary with a mixture of triumph and regret.

For a moment, silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Chidi's labored breathing. And then, with a groan of pain, Chidi struggled to his feet, his eyes blazing with a newfound respect for his opponent.

"You may have won this round, Wick," Chidi's voice was gruff with exhaustion, his words tinged with a begrudging admiration. "But mark my words, this isn't over. The Marquis will have his revenge."

With that ominous warning hanging in the air, Chidi melted back into the shadows, disappearing into the night like a phantom of vengeance. And as the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the city of lights, John knew that the battle was far from over. But for now, at least, he had emerged victorious, his resolve unshaken in the face of adversity.

[discoscoob]

Trying to fight through the writers block it has taken me all day to write one paragraph 😤

[discoscoob]

I HAVE A REQUEST

guess its just a meme

I love our The Keanuverse fandom sm! So many crossovers. Tex Johnson x John Wick x Johnny Utha x Constantine by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @johnwickb1tsch @sweetwolfcupcake @tammykelly. Constantine x John Wick by @iovesia . Tom Ludlow x Julian Marcer by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @johnwickb1tsch. David Griffin and Donnie Barks by @imajinxnation. Kevin Lomax x John Constantine by @lilithlinen

So @discoscoob made a crossover You were divorcing Donnie, and Kevin Lomax was your lawyer.

and my last brain cell: OH! I HAVE A CROSSOVER REQUEST.

So, Donnie and you were divorcing.

Since Donnie made life pretty crappy, you had been diving into books. Your top pick was "Much Ado About Nothing." Weirdly, you were totally into Don John, the villian. You couldn't help but think he was kind of awesome and even had some wild fantasies about him.

Your all-time favorite band was Samurai, and you were a regular at their concerts. If it weren't for your lousy life with Donnie, you'd definitely be a full-on groupie, no doubt about it.

Almost every day, Ted Logan would come knocking on your door, pleading for another round of guitar practice with Bill in your garage. Every time, you'd give in and let them jam out. Eventually, you just handed Ted the keys to the garage. Ted was so happy! He couldn't stop grinning widely and practically bounced around with joy when he got the keys to the garage.

There was a neighbor to your right. There was this handsome guy. Military-style cropped hair, always chewing gum like it was his job. Every time you crossed paths, he flashed you playful wink. You'd just awkwardly smile back, not quite sure what to make of it.

On your left lived this perpetually gloomy guy, always puffing away on a cigarette with his tousled hair. You'd always greet him, and in return, he'd just nod while puffing on a cigarette, not even bothering to look your way. You stopped greeting him, and that's when the cigarette butts started showing up in your backyard. Furious, every time you stormed over and angrily laid into him, letting him know exactly what you thought about his behavior. But all he did was grin and nod, then slam the door loudly in your face. It made you wonder if this was his bizarre way of communicating with you—maybe even flirting?

You were employed at an advertising firm run by Nelson Moss, a total workaholic. He was always pushing for you to work non-stop, 24/7.

To relax, you and your friends hit the waves for some surfing. It was during one of these sessions that you met Johnny Utah, who begged you to teach him how to ride the waves. You two had a blast until the sun went down. When he offered to walk you home, you politely declined.

As you were strolling down a dimly lit street, a man with a charming smile approached you, asking if you'd pose for his camera. You found it odd to be taking pictures at 11 p.m. Suddenly, he attacked you, and you feared for your life.

But just when you thought it was all over, John Wick appeared. He was driving by and happened to be in the right place at the right time to save you.

He rushed you to the hospital, where the charming Dr. Julian Mercer examined you and assured you that none of the vital organs were affected.

While you were lying in the hospital ward, Detective Tom Ludlow came in to investigate the maniac case and asked you a few questions.

Oh and Donaka Mark was watching all your life on the cameras.

And naturally, you've been sex with each of them (except Ted, for obvious reasons). Who would dare to write such a fanfiction?

[discoscoob]

Hi! first time saying something here, i just read “be my daddy tonight.” and it was one of the greatest things i’ve read! and a thought popped in my mind, what would happened if bratty!rich!reader meets a certain lawyer (Kevin Lomax) in one of her dads senator’s ball? how would her bodyguard’s react? 👀🫣

(if you don’t like the idea you can ignore it!)

i love your blog btw! i always come back everyday to check it it’s one of my favorite things 💗

-☾𖤓

yeah bratty!reader definitely is gonna need to lawyer up with all the scandals she's up to .. and thank you, lovie ♡ !! (wrote this in hc form because it's 3am..)

୨୧ ⋆ you weren't even paying attention when you bumped into kevin. you were too busy trying to slide past the groups of boring, old businessmen, when suddenly, your shoulder harshly collides with another.

୨୧ ⋆ obviously you turn around to scold whoever they are, because uh— helloooo?— rude, much? the words leave your lips before you recognise who you're speaking to:

୨୧ ⋆ kevin's slightly impressed / shocked by your attitude. "a little sour under that sweetness, i see," he muses, sipping his champagne with a smirk.

୨୧ ⋆ you're not the first rich offspring brat he's encountered at these balls— but you're definitely the prettiest, which is why he entertains your attitude problem.

୨୧ ⋆ kevin's real smooth, and even makes you trip over your words at a point. his sultry southern twang was such a refreshing change from the droning of the geriatrics in suits. kevin is suave, kevin is confident, kevin is.. touching your waist?

"you were right— softest thing i've ever felt," he makes you pause and look down, and you see his fingers gently feeling the material wrapped around your waist.

"someone's touchy," you scoff, but can feel your ears burning.

୨୧ ⋆ the first one to notice this was of course john (wick)— he any ways was searching for you— being the ever vigilant bodyguard he is. and he's genuinely frozen when he sees how cozy you and the sleazebag lawyer have been getting.

"so you found her—" constantine walks up behind his partner, but his words cut short when he sees was john is staring at. "you've got to be kidding me."

"my sentiments exactly," john mumbles, his voice low, his eyes unable to tear away from the distant sight.

୨୧ ⋆ the pair of them are just staring.. like staring at you and kevin talking. john is quietly seething because he loves to brood, while constantine is just taking digs at kevin.

"he looks 5'7," constantine rolls his eyes. "hey, how much you wanna bet i can get that exact shirt he's wearing at the dollar store—"

୨୧ ⋆ between listening to constantine's thinly veiled jabs, and watching you shamefully let kevin hit on you— john chooses to just put an end to both.

୨୧ ⋆ he bluntly asserts himself in between you and kevin, keeping his back to him. you tell him off for being rude, and you're only met with a silent glare.

"that was so rude, what the hell's your problem?!" you hiss, your tone high-pitched and pissed as john drags you away. he made up some excuse of your father needing to talk to you. "god, you totally embarrassed me back there!"

"send your boyfriend my sincerest apology," john replies monotonously, except for the word 'boyfriend' which was laced with mockery.

୨୧ ⋆ constantine's wearing his smug smirk when he makes eye contact with kevin, silently telling him to 'fuck off', before following behind you and john. let the games begin.

[discoscoob]

Which Keanu's characters you don't like?

gifs by @scarlettspectra

Scott Favor. For him, it was all a game, a riot, you know, like how teens want to annoy their parents. But for Mike, it's a whole different story – a harsh reality. I won't get into analyzing it, but director really nailed making me hate Scott. And that funeral scene ripped my heart out. It's like two totally different worlds the serious Catholic vibe versus the wild dances. Scott's just sitting there, all smug and then he just looks away, like he couldn't care less. Meanwhile, Michael's staring at him with those puppy dog eyes, then quickly looks down. the scene really hits me hard.

[discoscoob]

Hello! don john x reader angst where the reader thinks her love is unrequited?

Nighttime Love

Don John x FEM!Reader

SUMMARY // You're visiting your uncle in Messina, and Don John catches your eye. Little do you know, you've caught his too..

TW // Angst, Fluff, Suggestive..

Ugh love this idea..

I made the English a bit more modern, cause God knows how confusing Shakespearian English can be😭😭

Also, thank you @scarlettspectra for letting me use your gif! You're such a sweetheart, I swear!!

Omg I hate this one.. this fucking sucks so bad.. I had so little ideas for this..

"My dear, why would you be in love with a man such as himself? You know what he's done to Hero and Don Pedro.. to everyone!" your uncle whispers, concerned for your feelings.

Currently, you and your uncle are in a stone alleyway, as you had pulled him aside from the market to confess to him your feelings for the quiet, stone faced man known as Don John. You cry and shake your head.

"No, I know, Uncle! But my heart can't help but desire him.." you say, desperately trying to make him understand.

Your uncle sighs and nods in understanding, remembering when he had fell in love with his wife, a similar situation to yours.

"I know, my dear.. but you have to understand, he loves no one, he is a man who only desires one thing.. chaos," your uncle rubs your arms comfortingly.

You let out a shaky breath and let your head fall into your uncle's chest, knowing he was probably right. As you cry into his chest, his hands stroking your hair in comfort, neither of you notice a head peaking around the corner, listening in to your conversation.

Don John leans back on the wall, thinking for a moment before smirking and walking away, a slight bounce in his step. As he passes by the people in the market, they all stare at him, wondering what mischievious plan he would go through with next. With how happy he seemed, he had to be planning something.

And they were right, because the next day, a letter arrived at your uncle's abode, addressed to you. There was a time and a meeting place written on it, and no name.

'Tonight at 8, meet me in the center of the town garden. I'll be waiting.' - It wrote.

Your heart drops to your stomach in both fear and anticipation. You hide the letter from your uncle and go about your day before sneaking out at 8 to meet the mysterious sender.

Your room is on the lower level of the small two storey house, so sneaking out was quite easy, climbing through your window, your night gown nearly dragging on the ground as you run towards the garden bare foot, the cold dirt soft against your feet as the night brings a certain calm and cool.

Once you reach the garden, you stop running and walk through the maze, trying to remember the way to the center of it. You find yourself at a few dead ends before finally making your way to the center of the elaborate hedge maze.

You arrive to see nobody, your brows furrow in confusion and call out, announcing your presence to anyone who may be there.

"Ah.. sweet little (Y/n).. how lovely that you have followed my instructions.." a monotonous voice calls back, coming out from behind a large bush.

His short, black hair shone in the moonlight, along with his deep brown eyes. A smirk played on his bearded lips. It was Don John.

"My Prince.. to what do I owe the pleasure?" You laugh out of nervousness, blushing when you realize you're dressed quite indecently to be in front of a man of such stature, "ah.. forgive me for my indecency.. I came as soon as I could.." you mutter shyly.

Don John lets out a humourless chuckle and walks around you slowly, as if stalking his prey, sizing you up.

"No need to be sorry, sweet flower.. Seeing you like this is quite.. endearing," he smirks.

Your heartbeat quickens, looking anywhere but at him due to fear and embarrassment. You blush and cross your arms, knowing the cool air was most likely revealing your hardened nipples.

"Well? What have you called me for?" You ask, getting flustered and slightly annoyed.

He chuckles once more before coming up behind you, placing his hands on your waist, his lips brushing up against your ear. Chills run down your spine, whether from the wind or his hot breath in your ear, you couldn't tell, but you didn't mind it.

"I heard somewhere that a little lady fancies me.. Is that true, my sweet.. delicate.. flower.." he whispers hotly in your ear, sending a rush of warmth to your lower stomach.

You gulp and blush, unable to deny his words.

"Yes.. it's true.. What of it? It's not like you return those feelings.." you huff out, getting upset at your own thoughts.

"Mm.. and what if I told you those feelings were requited? What would you say? What would you do, little dove?" He nibbles at your ear teasingly.

You gasp and twist your head around so you can see him more out of your peripheral vision. Before you can answer, his lips are devouring yours hungrily, making you squeak and moan in surprise. He groans at your taste, biting your bottom lip sensually, turning you around so the front of your body is fully facing him.

He pulls away and licks your upper lip teasingly before leaning down to whisper in your ear once more.

"You're mine.. You're going to be my sweet princess.." He grins and grips your waist tightly.

What have you gotten yourself into..

[discoscoob]

Am I the only one that think that Kevin Lomax from The Devil's Advocate was a dick? 🤔

He is 100% a dick, but I’m willing to look past that 🤫

[discoscoob]

Which Keanu's villains do you hate?

Scott Favor and Hank, I’d fight them 🤺

[discoscoob]

Could Keanu be my Daddy? ❤️

Only if you share him with me 😌

[discoscoob]

Is Keanu the true Disney Prince? 😂❤️

Don John would be a perfect Disney prince if he just had a personality transplant

[discoscoob]

For you, which Keanu's characters are the sexiest?

[discoscoob]

Am I the only one that when I saw Keanu's smile in The Watcher, I thought:

"His beautiful and creepy smile! 😍😍😍"

😂😂😂😂

[discoscoob]

Me and other people when we see Keanu plays the villain.

Other people :NO! KEANU IS TOO GOOD TO PLAY THE VILLAIN!!!

Me: Am I wet? 🤣🤣🤣

I think what makes him so good at playing villains is because you don’t expect it from him so when he takes on morally questionable or downright evil characters it makes you pause and yes get wet

[discoscoob]

John Wick