#keanu reeves imagine

[iovesia]

how would keanu characters react to reader having weird kinks and asking them to use it on her? (could be choking, knife kink, blood kink…etc, whatever you are most comfortable with writing!)

reader with extreme kinks,⠀⠀౨ৎ⠀⠀keanuverse. gn reader.⠀/⠀cw. vaguely smutty.

john wick — so super nawt down for it … i know i write him to be mad kinky sometimes, but i’m sure he will 90% of the time gently pass on anything too extreme. john’s already surrounded by so much violence, and gore in his life— he can’t see himself using knives or any weapons on you. (wee bit of a madonna/whore complex vibes with this man.. but i digress).

at most he’ll indulge you in very little choking / slapping. and by that he’s very gently hold your neck, or give you small soft pats on your face.

he’s a gentle giant !! soz !!

john constantine — he’s a little freaky, so i think he’d be more into trying your kinks. constantine’s more into pain / power play imo, so if you ever wanted to try stuff like wax play, temperature play or smth like that … he’s into it !!! and not just on you .. i’m a firm believer in masochist!constantine, so just ‘cause he might not wanna do it to you, doesn’t mean he don’t want you to do it to him 😵‍💫😵‍💫

johnny utah / jack traven / tom ludlow — not to lump all my cop!keanu’s in the same box, but i mean c’mon! these boys in blue definitely will do whatever kink you like if it’s stuff like bondage or restricting you. esp with their easy access to handcuffs .. ehem …

i just get a bit of control freak vibes from them, so they would love to have you tied up and depending on them for pleasure. yeah …

kevin lomax — oh jeez this guy’s the worst of the bunch! he’s the son of satan, and a canonical toe-sucker so out of everyone on this list, he’s your guy! if we’re talking kevin whose already fully corrupted: that man will do any debaucherous thing you ask him to do.

my gut tells me he’s hella into blood play— something about just seeing your skin stained with crimson feels so primal to him. like he’s corrupting you with his bare hands.

ted logan — poor boy might actually blush and explode with giggles if you ever bring stuff up like that. he’s so immature, and so vanilla, it’s sickeningly sweet. the kinkiest thing he’ll ever do with you is probably sixty nine .. oops !

[imajinxnation]

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..

[eternalslover]

WHY IS THERE NO WRITING FOR KEANU REEVES CHARACTERS IM ACTUALLY GOING BALLISTIC, I WANT HIM SO BAD WOOF WOOF GRRR, GOING ACTUALLY FERAL, PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE ABOUT HIM, MATRIX, JOHN WICK, BILL AND TED, CONSTANTINE, MATRIX, MATRIX, MATRIX DID I MENTION MATRIX PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE ABOUT HIS CHARACTER FROM THE MATRIX

WHERE DID MY CLOTHING GO?!?! I WANT HIM SO BAD HONESTLY HOW CAN YOU NOT WRITE ABOUT HIM?? ANGST, FLUFF, SMUT ECT ECT BIG ON FLUFF AND ANGST, THERE IS JUST SO MUCH SMUT IN THE WORLD BUT I WILL TAKE ANYTHING

[greenmanalishi]

[ruskaroma]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Haha, very funny.”

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

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

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

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

“J–John–”

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

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

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

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[wiinterz]

once lost, now found | john wick

pairing: john wick x black plus size fem!reader

genre: established relationship, one-shot

warnings: canon!john, typical violence, kidnapped!reader, physical violence, character death, angst, fluff

word count: 1.5k

summary: being in the crossfire of john’s old life, there’s a realization that he’ll always pick you over anything and anyone in his life; himself included.

☏ ᴛᴀʏ’s ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs: old one-shot!

recs | taglist | help hub | keanu reeves m.list

PATTERS OF RAIN HIT against a tin can that was laid on a concrete slab. The moon’s crescent-shaped the city into one walking circle. And street lights flickered as sounds of drunks, cars, and sobers moved around to find somewhere they could call home.

Chestnut-colored eyes peeked at a nearby building, white paint completely blocked out with graffiti, and cigarettes crushed up and tossed on the floor. Feeling your tired body being dragged to the empty building, your stomach turns as your bottom eyelashes catch your slipping tears, making sure they stayed on your waterline as the peculiar man had closed your mouth with tape. Your hands and legs were roped up, your body resting on the stranger’s left shoulder as he grumbled about your man, John. 

Hearing his grating voice complain about John, and how stupid he is to have a woman knowing his job takes anything pure from him. Your chest raises high and fast, trying to keep yourself from freaking out as he places your body down on a metal chair, the coldness of the metal shocks your body, making you whimper. 

He makes a hoarse laugh, pulling the tape off your mouth as he stuffs a shirt in your mouth, forcing you to gag on it.

He pushed your chair against a metal table, sitting beside you as he picks up a bottle of water and drink it.

“Ora aspettiamo The Babayaga.” He lets out another laugh, sighing to himself as he drinks the water, his watch ticking for a show.

John was in the middle of slicing a man’s arm off in a closed clothing store, the lights still on as dead bodies piled up around him. The more he killed, the more they ran to him, only to be shot down by his gun. 

Anger riled his soul, hurt taking over in his eyes as his mind replayed the screams that left your mouth. He wondered how did you slip away from him in such little time?

Killing the last man as he placed a sword against his neck and his gun behind it, John shoots and pulls the sword back, watching the man fall to the floor, face hitting against someone’s dead body.

John’s hair was now messed up and wet with sweat and blood, his face had tiny splatters, some so close to his eye as his blue t-shirt and black pants became stained permanently. He had lots of wounds on him, the back of his shirt slightly ripped showing a large diagonal cut on him.

Picking up another gun, he checks to make sure there was enough ammo in it. Once he walks out of the shop, he grunts, feeling like he lost a huge part of himself and dignity as the night prolongs.

He could only think back to you, worrying if you were in pain, if you were bruised or cut up. He could only imagine what he would do if he saw even a little paper cut on you by the man that caused this to happen.

His shoes scrape against the floor, knowing where to go. He knew deep in his heart who caused this, who betrayed his promise.

A groan escapes from his lips, his bloody hands falling to rest on the wall before he walks into the empty building. He stands there for a moment, regaining his strength and energy.

Once he breathes out heavily, John’s eyes ignite with despise as he hears a muffled laugh.

Making his way in, he pushes a door open down the long hallway, seeing a dim light create the ability to see. His heart stops in seconds, breath caught in his mouth as your eyelash lets a tear escape like a leaf letting a raindrop hit to another leaf.

There he stood, the man you fell in love with for a lifetime and more. He held a gun under his arm, his eyes soften at the sight of you. Your hair is a mess, your mouth is forced to bite against the shirt, and you sitting patiently and scared. 

He then looks at the man that sat beside you, looking at his expensive silver watch with gold in the middle. Silver-fox short hair, with skin pale as sand, fingernails clipped, his pinky finger long and slim as possible. His lips were light pink and plump and wrinkles appeared under his eyes as he smiled at John.

“So glad you could make it to the family dinner, Wick.” The man announces, a hearty laugh escaping his lips while John rolls his eyes, then looks back at you, motioning his fingers to see if you were okay. You motioned back to him a no, and he sighs.

“Giosuè,” is all he mutters out, keeping himself calm and collected as always as if you didn’t exist in the room. He had to do that, to keep you alive, to see you breathe. A fraction of his heart had been shut down from the death of Helen and the last thing he needed was to see you murdered; something that can be prevented.

Giosuè looks back at you, pushing your chin up a little, forcing you to stare at John while tears continue to fall, trickling to Giosuè’s fingers.

“Pretty girl, sad to see you like this.” He points out, moving his hand away as John squints a little, feeling his heart become slashed. 

“You see, you made a promise…that if and when you come back, I would be the first person to see you. You also promised me the killing of my brother and father, we made that promise when you were leaving home. To go to what? Normalcy? John Wick, The Babayaga…begs to find normalcy in a cold world, that he, made people fear him. Damn.”

Giosuè’s Italian accent comes out, standing from his chair, a gun resting in his back pocket, your eyes widened once you see it, alarming John.

“I’m mad now, because of you and your broken promises, my brother and father…hm whatever, you know the story.” He chuckles, sighing heavily once he finally reaches John, standing in front of him as John’s face stays relaxed, not a smirk, or a sign of worry.

John looks down at Giosuè and scoffs, “And you bring my girlfriend into your family affairs.” His voice showed no emotion, John went into a state you’ve never seen him in.

“She’s a pretty girl, and you know how I am…I like pretty things…I see pretty I take it.” Giosuè looks back at you and tilts his head with a smile. “You crying? John look she’s crying.” He lets out a maniacal laugh as he turns back to John whose eyes pierce your soul.

He had a different type of attitude when it came to your safety, your life before his, forever and always.

“Mmh.” The only thing that slips out from his lips, you continue to cry, trying to believe John will get you out of here safely. His hand pulls out a dart, one of the darts an assassin tried to use on him. Giosuè was too busy mocking you, calling you adorable for becoming hysterical in a situation like this.

John walks up behind Giosuè, the dart held between his index and middle fingers. He held his breath, making mental notes on how Giosuè moved his body.

As a ticking bomb, John’s fingers stifled Giosuè’s neck, the dart pushing into him. In hindsight, John hasn’t been sure if his plan would work out correctly. The only way to know was the outcome, and each ending dealt with you being freed.

Yet as Giosuè abruptly stopped taunting you, his hand quickly goes to behind his neck where John pulls the dart swiftly. Once he sees Giosuè's hand, he shoves the dart back in the middle of it, making Giosuè yell in terror. John then takes out a gun from behind him and shoots his spine, then Giosuè’s knee pit.

Giosuè’s body plummets down to the floor, and a terror of screams leaves his lips. His fingers scrape the floor, trying to crawl to you yet, John shoots him in the head, watching his body jolt a little.

John’s eyes dart back at you and puts up his gun while picking up Giosuè’s. You soaked the t-shirt with your saliva and tears, your dark brown skin bruise with purple and a bit of red from the tight bounds. Making his way to you, his right hand pulls your face up to him, he has tears ready to fall, yet he doesn’t.

His soul had become a cage of his nightmares, banging against his heart each time he saw you. If he could create heaven, he would simply make you the goddess of it. If he had a paint brush he would paint calligraphy and fill empty canvases of you and about you. His heart rang out for you, slipping into your hands and hoping you would restore whatever was taken away from it.

Taking a pocket knife out, John cuts the ropes off you, pulling the t-shirt out of your mouth as you could finally relax your jaw. His thumb comes across your face, catching pretty salts. Your breath pattern started to slowly go back to normal. Feeling his right hand pick up your wrist, he grunts at the makeshift bruises and cuts on your pretty skin.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He lets out a staggering breath, his voice almost getting caught in his throat. He rubbed your wrists, wrists that had fibers of straw in them. He brings up your right wrist to his lips and kisses it, taking up your other wrist he kisses it up to your shoulder. Looking back at you, his hands immediately wrap around you, holding you tightly as if he relives the time he was told Helen was dying.

You take a moment to wrap your arms around him and when you do, your body is in alarm from the pain that spikes you. You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing your body to be loose on him. Your tears soaked the wounds he earned.

You held onto Johnathan as if you both were at sea, bodies laid on a raft, and the ocean roared throughout the night with tides trying to pull you in a different direction.

John pulls away, looking at you with tears, your weakened hand rests on his cheek. Pulling him closer to you, you press your lips against his, holding him for a moment as your tears intertwine with his.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He repeats, his words getting stronger each time, making you believe it.

You lay your body on him, permitting him to pick you up bridal style. His eyes fixated on yours as his heart beats at the same rate as yours, finally back to normalcy again.

When he went too far he returned to the same man you fell in love with years ago. When you disappeared you came back as the goddess of his dreams, the one that lit the candles in his heart when they left.

John found his normalcy once again and this time, he promised to not fail like the last.

[arece]

Late Arrival

♤ John Wick x platonic!f!reader (father/daughter duo???) series masterlist

(𝟷)

♤ Summary: You accidentally kill a man after he attacks you, only to discover he's the son of a very dangerous and powerful gang leader. Your safety is now entrusted in the hands of John Wick. (2.6k)

♤ Warnings: Attempted assault (not successful or too detailed), John Wick violence and death, descriptions of injuries and blood.

♤ a/n: This is possibly one part of many. I roughly have a whole series planned out but would like to see if others are interested in it before I fully commit to it. If you have any thoughts or requests of what you'd like to see with these two, request away!

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

The bright crimson leaked a trail down the alley towards you and you threw yourself back in a last ditch effort to keep it away from you. There was already enough blood on your hands which you desperately tried to wipe away, it was too late they were already stained.

What you did finally hit you as you caught sight of the bloodied pipe tossed to the side of the now mangled body. “Fuck.” You almost start heaving as your breathing begins to pick up. Where did he even come from?

You were on your latest job for Aurelio, stealing whatever parts he needed for his latest design. He came upon you when you naively tried to steal from him months ago, when he caught you he seemed the furthest thing from pissed.

Highly amused he thought a crafty thief of a fourteen year old was good for his business. He took you in dubbing you the ‘street rat’ and you ran his errands. It was better than living on the streets, surviving off of scraps like you’d been for the last two years. Although weary of the man and his definitely not-so-legal work, you agreed to join.

Being discreet was your biggest ally, being so young you were mistaken for just a regular kid which made it easier to hide away in plain sight, stealing from the unsuspecting. After living on the streets for so long you liked to think you knew the city inside out.

Twisting through alleyways was the perfect way to remain out of sight, it was also the perfect way to get attacked. You were leaning against the wall, catching your breath after almost getting caught from your latest heist.

You may have laughed at the guy when he walked right past you, pissed off, clueing him on who stole from him. You could only think about how annoyed Aurelio was gonna be with you as you ran two extra blocks.

You noticed a shadow moving closer to you from the corner of your eye, before you could move one arm wrapped around your midsection yanking you to a chest and another covering your mouth.

You jab your elbow straight into your attackers ribs, causing them to release you but not before tossing you further back into the alley near a dumpster. You scrambled up and managed to catch sight of the person.

It was a guy, roughly in his twenties. He was tall but lanky and dressed in a way that screamed ‘douchey-rich’. The type of kids who thought they were the shit before getting robbed by the small group of street kids.

“What the fuck do you want? I didn’t take shit.” You had assumed he was one of the guys' lackeys. You realized you were wrong when a sickly smirk grew on his face, his eyes slightly crazed.

He walked closer to you and you backed up until you bumped into the dumpster. He seemed to only get more excited when he saw how scared you grew which only increased the sick feeling you felt festering. “I’m only here for some fun.”

He lunged at you, knocking you to the ground and your head slammed against the concrete. Vision blurred as you watched his wandering hands reach for you. No, no, no. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming but he still covered your mouth with one hand.

Your head turned to the side and by the corner of the dumpster you saw a lone metal pipe. Slowly, your left hand reaches for it, fingertips brushing against the cold metal before you fully have it in your grasp.

You move your hold to the middle of it and use all your strength to hit the end against the side of his head. He falls against you and you cry out, shoving him off you in a panic. Everything feels hazy and faraway.

You stand on unsteady feet now holding onto the pipe with both hands, raising it above your head you let out a sob and smash it down on his head. Again. Again. Over and over till you lose your strength and your lungs give out from your wails.

You dropped the metal beside his caved in head and fell back to the ground. Wiping the blood away desperately you scooch back from the swirling crimson puddle coming from him. Something catches the light momentarily.

A silver pin was on his jacket now tainted with his blood. You choked on your breath when you caught sight of the symbol on it - a card spade. Now you were really in for it, you just killed the son of one of the most influential gangs. Aurelio said they were second to The High Table. You didn’t know much about either but the fear in his eyes spoke volumes.

Pocketing the pin, you stumble up still in a daze. You smear trickles of blood over your face when you roughly shove your hair back. You had a lot to explain to Aurelio, maybe he’ll decide you weren’t worth the risk. Afterall, you’re as good as dead now.

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

You stood in front of the garage shop, the definition of a mess. Clothes ripped, hair knotted, drenched in blood, and you were pretty sure your head was busted open from the earlier fall. Aurelio rushed out, pushing past the others to reach you.

“What the fuck happened?” He eyed you over, his worry breaking through his angered demeanor. You numbly reached into your pocket and held out the bloodied spade pin, “I didn’t mean to.”

He did a once over of the pin and you before shoving one of the chairs beside him, “fuck.” You slightly flinch back but remain unaffected otherwise as you stared blankly ahead. He rubs a hand over his face, catching sight of a gold coin atop his desk.

“I have a favor to call in.” He walks off into his office quickly, muttering to one of the guys about getting you something to clean up with as he reaches for his phone. You're handed a damp rag but just hold it as you listen in to bits and pieces of Aurelio’s phone call.

You mostly make out rough grumbling but catch some words. “Favor…come and see… accident -  he tried to…” You stop listening in after that, shutting your eyes tightly in an attempt to block out everything that just happened.

You don’t know how long you stood there but were interrupted by Aurelio clearing his throat. Your eyes snap open to see him awkwardly gesturing to the rag you held in your grasp. “Not gonna clean up?”

You shake your head and toss it to the side, it didn’t matter no matter how much you scrubbed the blood would remain, hands forever tainted with a reddish hue. “Who were you talking to?”

He pulled up the chair he pushed to the side earlier and brushed your question off. 

His hands clasped together, his leg bouncing up and down in an anxious frenzy, “do you wanna talk about-”

“No.” You snapped firmly. You shocked yourself with the aggression you showed towards him. You shrunk back in guilt. Aurelio seemed to understand as he changed back to the question you asked earlier.

“I called in a favor. Who you killed, you’re gonna need someone to keep you safe and he can.” Your heart dropped in realization, you were right, Aurelio thought you were too much of a risk and was pawning you off to some stranger.

In the end you couldn’t really blame him, you had severely fucked up yet you couldn’t help but feel the burning sting of betrayal and hurt.  He had taken you in, fed you, housed you, and taught you. Now you were being thrown out so easily. “If the Spade’s are so powerful, how is some guy supposed to protect me?”

It felt like a childish jab, like you were one step away from pouting your bottom lip out. Aurelio sighed and brushed a hand over the top of his head. “He’s John Wick,” he slightly scoffed, a ghost of a grin on his face like he’s on some inside joke.

Your brows furrowed, now frustrated by how amused he seemed at the prospect of your imminent death. Your hands formed fists, the now dried blood flaking off at your knuckles reminding you of the state you were in. “Who the fuck is John Wick?” 

“Him.” You looked behind you to see a tall man standing at the entrance in an all black suit. You hadn’t even heard him come in - you really needed to work on people being able to sneak up on you so easily.

He was older, late forties to mid fifties. Shoulder length hair and a full beard that had odd patches dipping near his mouth. The man was stoic, a displeased frown that you could tell sat permanently on his face from the way it suited him.

His displeasure seemed to grow as he observed you before turning back to Aurelio, “she’s a kid.” You huffed out, not liking how he brushed off your presence, “yeah, real observant asshole.” Aurelio glared at you while John continued to ignore you.

“She is. Look, they're going to come after her and we both know I can’t do shit - but you.” John surveyed you again. You felt uncomfortable under his gaze but refused to back down, standing tall. You weren’t gonna let him intimidate you, not after what happened today.

He seemed to find what he was looking for, nodding at Aurelio. “Let’s go,” he grabs the coin from Aurelio before heading out the garage, waiting for you to follow. You began to feel panic crawling up your throat at the idea of leaving with this guy.

You turned to Aurelio, begging with your eyes as you felt your eyes burning, a threat to possible tears. You were scared, god were you scared. Aurelio shook his head, muttering a small, “go” before heading back into his office.

You sniffed, grabbing the stupid part you stole for him and threw it at one of the windows, shattering it. You were hoping for a reaction but was met with complete silence. He gave up on you. 

You followed after John in defeat. He got you into the passenger seat of his Boss 429. While he pulled out he reached into the center console and tossed you some wipes to clean off the blood. You had a feeling it was something he frequently experienced.  

You roughly wiped at the dried blood, you wouldn’t be able to clean all of it off but this will do for now. “Where are you taking me?”

He stared at the road ahead, only sparing you a small glance through the rearview mirror, “the Continental.” His answer was short and blunt, getting information out of him will be hard but you’re persistent.

“What’s the Continental.” Without a moment passing, “a hotel.” You frowned and carelessly let the blood stained wipes fall to the bottom of the car. If he was bothered by it he didn’t say anything. “How’s a hotel supposed to protect me?”

“It’s discreet.” The way he answered in riddles further annoyed you. Your trust in him was short, you don’t know what Aurelio gave him, just the gold coin? Either way it seemed small considering the gang he’d have to go up against and just for you.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” He shook his head. You leaned back in your seat and lifted your legs to rest on the console. No point in fighting this now, you were trapped in the car with him.

Without looking he pushed your legs back down, paying no mind to your glare. “Not safe.” You scoffed, yet listened to him and kept your feet down. “I’m being hunted down after killing some asshole and have to rely on you. I think the car is the least of my worries.”

He lightly snorted at your jab but was cut off by a car slamming into you guys from the back. His arm shot out in front of you, holding you back from flying forward. “You alright?” You breathlessly nodded, watching as he looked back.

He reached back into the console, this time pulling out a gun. He unbuckled you and pushed you down below the window view. “Stay down,” he orders you before getting out of the car, the sounds of gunshots firing immediately. 

You weren’t able to follow his orders for long when the cracked back windshield was shattered. You flinched back down, covering your head with your arms. One of the men in all black tactical gear crawled in towards you.

Your eyes widened, frantically you reach blindly behind you until your hand manages to grab ahold of the door handle. You yank on it just as the man reaches to pull you by your leg, falling out of the car backwards and hitting your already injured head.

You kick at his wrist in an attempt to break free though it was little use. With blurred vision he reached for your arms and pulled you upright. You punched at his shoulders, arms, ribs, anything you could reach as panic filled you at the all too familiar scene playing out.

John turned back from cutting one of the men down with their own knife at the sound of your scream. He was met with you in a mercenary's grip, trying to escape while he tried to search you over.

He flipped the knife around, tightening his grip around it as he strode back over to the car. His steps were silent enough that the mercenary didn’t look up until it was too late. He pulled at the arm wrapped around yours, bending until he heard a satisfying snap.

The man yelled out and you were released from his grip. You fell to the ground and John grabbed the man by his now broken arm until he was close enough to plunge the blade straight through his throat.

Blood sprayed over the both of you as you frantically crawled backwards. John let the body drop and turned to see you looking at the bodies all around with a crazed look in your eye. He knelt down to your level and reached for your shoulder. 

You began to thrash around wildly, shrieking for him to let you go. “Stop- hey, hey,” He tried to call out to you as he wrapped you tightly in his grip, preventing the possibility of you accidentally hurting yourself. 

He held on as you sobbed. You gripped onto him as you came to, not wanting him to let go. “I got you, kid. I got you now.” You heaved into his chest and he clutched the back of your sore head in a soft hold.

After you had settled he cautiously released you and looked you over to make sure you weren’t physically hurt. He gently moved your face to the side, wiping the fresh blood away to take a closer look at the back of your head.

“We’ll get the Doctor to look at that,” he stood up, pulling you with him. He wrapped his arm around you to guide you back to the car that was now severely damaged. You didn’t have the energy to question him, you just let him buckle you in and place his jacket over you.

You curled up in your seat and let yourself fall asleep under his watchful eye. You don’t know how the Spade’s have found you so quickly. All you did know was that trusting him was all you had left.

[michelle-is-writing]

Help, John Wick

Word Count: 2.8k~

Warnings: mention of gun fire, blood, injury, stitches

Working the evening shift sometimes proves to be a hassle, especially when I’m needed past midnight. On nights like these, I know as soon as I leave the hospital doors that I’m all alone in my somewhat safe city. The biggest issue in my city is the constant hidden dangers within it, as reported by the news many times. The attacks are always random, and the people are disguised, meaning no one can tell who is truly good or bad.

With the clock nearing 12:05, I’m finally able to clock out and head out of my hospital and to my car. On the way to my vehicle, I notice something weird about my driver side’s tires; they seem to be flat, but one has a knife stuck in it.

“What the…” my voice trails off as I look around my hospital’s parking lot, seeing maybe three or four other cars scattered throughout it. I’m already in a not-so-safe situation, and quite frankly, walking out alone late at night is not the best decision for someone like me to make.

Instead of risking my safety, I begin walking backwards to go back into the hospital before turning around, only to be knocked down on the ground by someone running into me from my left. As I fall with the person who rammed into me, my ears pick up distinct gunshots - something you hope to never hear when you’re leaving work late at night.

“Stay down!” A deep, gruff voice yells before the weight of the body on top of me is suddenly gone, and more gunshots ring out around me. Despite the pain from being slammed down, I still manage to shuffle away and get behind the bushes next to the pavement. It’s not the best cover, but it can at least help me figure out what the hell is going on right now.

Looking through the thick branches of leaves in front of me, I spot two people now revealed by the street lights as they shoot toward the entrance of the hospital. “Why would anyone shoot at a hospital?!” I find myself muttering before I jerk my head over to the doors. There stands a dark-haired man dressed in an all black suit, a pistol in his hands as well. Only two shots are fired from that pistol before all gunshots come to a stop, but before I have any time to process what has just happened, the man is running toward me. I’ve never seen him before, and he certainly doesn’t look like someone who could shoot two people in two clear shots. His face is even cast with concern as he nears the bushes I hide behind, a hand outreached for me.

“We need to go! Now!” He tells me, grabbing my hand before yanking me up from the ground and taking off. With his hand firmly gripping my hand, I’m left with no other choice but to run with him. Feeling my fight-or-flight instincts kick in, I recognize the rush of anxiety flowing through me as well as so much confusion. Why am I running with a man who just shot several men either wounded or dead? He’s obviously trying to help me, but who exactly is he trying to protect me from?

After running across the parking lot to a car parked in the shade, the man yells at me to get in, but as I near the passenger side door, I feel myself halt as time slowly passes around me. My body feels as if it’s stuck in honey, unable to move or do anything, and my mind doesn’t feel much better.

“Get in now!” The man yells one more time, fully snapping me out of my stupor and bringing my attention to the door handle of an older car as I open it before climbing in. Alongside me is the man falling into the driver's side, quickly turning the engine on before speeding out of the parking lot. Speeding lights pass all around me while my eyes fall to my arms and hands, a burning sensation taking over my limbs. My palms and elbows are scratched up from the fall, droplets of blood adorning the scrapes before leading down to the new holes on the knees of my scrub pants, crimson liquid beginning to show through there as well.

In this moment, as my brain now begins to process the oncoming stings and burns, I turn my head toward the man, finding him to be focusing every ounce of his attention on the road in front of us as he speeds way above the limit. “What just happened?” I ask him, my voice almost disturbing him from his focus as he slightly jolts in his seat. “What’s going on?”

He shakes his head, his long hair moving along with him as he seemingly ponders if he should answer my question or not. For a few seconds, he remains quiet before sighing and giving in. “It’s… hard to explain,” he starts, giving me a cautious glance before looking back at the road in front of him as he speeds through traffic. Between taking sharp turns and darting in between cars, I can’t help but grasp the door with all my might to keep me from going all over the place.

“A couple days ago, you treated a patient, a man who came in with a bullet wound directly below his heart,” The man explains, making me stare at him confused. I did have a patient come in with those exact issues, but he told us he was mugged and that’s why he was shot. Why would someone try to attack a mugging victim in the way they did?

“Well, the guy wasn’t exactly mugged, and the people who shot him thought you were helping out him and his… group,” he further adds, making my eyes widen in a mix of horror and confusion. “They didn't even know your name or anything about you and they still tried to put a hit on you, all because you helped him survive. He asked me to make sure nothing happened to you, said you were a sweet girl, and I promised him I would keep you safe,” he nods his head toward the road. “So, here we are.”

Despite his explanation definitely being… weird, I don’t question him any more about it, and instead, I ask him something else. “What’s your name?”

At my question, he gives me a wary glance before answering. “John,” he tells me, gaining a nod back from me.

“John, I think you got shot,” I inform him, my eyes falling to his bloody arm. It looks like the bullet either grazed or went completely through his arm, but nonetheless, it’s still bleeding like a gunshot wound.

John barely reacts, only nodding his head “I know,” he simply explains as if it were something simple and not a bullet wound. “I’ll take you somewhere safe until we know what the group is trying to achieve.”

His words barely register in my ears before I’m turning in my seat to shake my head at him. “No, no, we need to go to my apartment,” I urge him, and just as I expected, he begins to tell me it’s not safe. “But my dogs are there!” I quickly argue back, feeling my heart pound away in my chest.

In an instant, it’s like a flip in his head switches, and he gives me a small nod in response to my words. “Okay,” he simply mutters, “Show me how to get there.”

Arriving at my apartment, John parks the car way down my street before having us run up to my back gate and get in through there. By the looks of it, my apartment seems to be untouched, and after John does a quick run through, I’m able to let out a sigh of relief. I’ve witnessed a lot of crazy things tonight, and the fact that I have a man whom I just met in my house after being shot at is crazy. However, my dogs don’t seem to care about the crazy night I’ve had as they’re too busy trying to get John to pet them. In spite of what I witnessed him do earlier in the midst of gunfire, seeing him act like a complete teddy bear around my dogs practically makes my heart skip a beat.

“Sit down here, John,” I tell him, gesturing to stools by my counter as I wash my hands in the kitchen sink. “So I can stitch up your arm,” I add, drying the water from my hands before gathering the stuff I need from my medicine cabinet. He nods at my words before sitting and waiting patiently, now with my smallest dog in his lap. Beside him are my other dogs, all sitting beside him as if they were all best friends already.

Smiling at the sight, I look up from my dogs to meet his eyes, only to be greeted by his chocolate-like eyes already staring back into mine. However, I quickly look away and begin helping him take his coat off all the while remaining careful about the arm he got shot in. It’s only after I cut the arm of his sleeve off and begin gently cleaning the dried up blood off his arm that John speaks up. “Do you treat all your patients like this?” He asks, a small smile taking over his lips as the question falls from his mouth.

I find myself smiling back at him before moving onto clean the actual wound. “Only special ones,” I tell him, earning a small chuckle back from him despite me pressing gauze with alcohol against the bullet wound on his arm. I choose not to mention it, and instead point out all of my dogs’ sudden fondness for the man. “They really like you,” I point out before examining his wound. The bullet went through the very edge of his arm, avoiding his humerus or anything major. Despite it leaving a decent sized wound, it’s still a pretty easy fix, thankfully.

Telling John he’ll need stitches only gains a hum back from him. Even when I poke the needle through his skin and pull it through, he still fails to react, and instead, John speaks up with the same tone of voice he had earlier. “I love dogs,” John confesses, using his free hand to scratch the wrinkles on my pug’s forehead. “And they’re all so cute too,” he adds, once again, not showing any sign of pain as I finish suturing his arm.

“That’s a good thing, that you love dogs,” I tell him, dressing his arm before taping it. “It shows a lot about someone,” I add, watching as he watches me closely, yet softly. As time goes on, I anticipate his next words, but even now, he still doesn’t mention it.

“I’m sorry we met this way,” John’s apology takes me by surprise, causing me to look away from his arm and stare at him. “I wish this could’ve been under better circumstances,” he adds, a small sigh falling from his lips afterward. “You’re a truly wonderful person; you didn’t deserve to be a target tonight.”

Instead of agreeing with him, I sigh as well before smiling and speaking up. “If it weren’t for you, they would’ve shot me. Over something I haven’t the slightest clue on,” I point out to him, “I know there are things that go on in this city, and I never expected to be in the middle of it, but I am eternally grateful that you were there and able to save me tonight,” Taking his hand in mine, I maintain eye contact with him and squeeze his hand. “You saved my life tonight. Thank you.”

At my words, John smiles back and nods. “No problem, nurse (Y/n),” he tells me, his thumb gently running across the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do it again,” he adds, making my smile grow even more as his eyes never leave mine. I don’t doubt the mysterious stranger will hold true to his word, but at the same time, I want to learn more about the man outside of saving me from the city’s dangers.

“And I’ll be here to patch you up again,” I tell him back, giving his hand a quick squeeze before turning to put away all of my medical supplies. “In the meantime,” I start, glancing between him and my kit as my dogs take the opportunity to swarm him. “Would you mind explaining to me a little bit about what exactly goes on in this city?”

John doesn’t respond right away, and instead, he chooses to stand up beside me in spite of the protests from his new furry friends. Putting away the rolled gauze and cotton balls, I look over at him as he appears beside me, only to earn another small smile from him like before. “Too much for one night,” he tells me, placing a gentle hand on my arm as if to stop me from messing with my medical supplies. “For right now, you need to sleep. You’ve had a long day,” he points out. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make sure you continue to stay safe for the night. Is it alright if I stay here?”

Seeing him gesture toward my living room where all of my dogs sit and eagerly wait for him to join them on the couch makes a small laugh leave my lips. If it weren’t for him saving my life and my dogs being so trusting of him, then I probably wouldn’t be as confident as I am with letting him stay. “Actually, I would prefer that,” I tell him, before nodding at the couch behind him. “Although I don’t think you’ll be alone, unfortunately.”

Just as I say that, all the dogs run over to us and stare up at him, causing John to look down at my dogs with a smile before his expression changes into one of concern. “You need to be bandaged as well,” He tells me, causing me to look down and see my busted up knees once more, reminding me off the dull pain currently shooting from them. “Let me do it,” he further adds before gently pushing me to sit back on the stool just like I had done with him.

“I can handle them, it’s okay,” I tell him with a chuckle. “I’ve handled much worse on myself.”

Despite my words, John doesn’t respond to me, and instead, he opens my med kit back up and begins taking out the same kind of supplies I used on him, all except for the sterilized needle and string thankfully. He doesn’t argue with me on me taking care of myself, but he acts as if I hadn’t said anything to him either.

Strangely, I allow him to take care of my wounds without interrupting him, settling for watching him instead. It’s only when he moves onto rolling my scrub pants above my knees that I find myself regretting my decision. His touch is seemingly nothing more than that of someone who cares, but I can’t help but feel the small degree of intimacy in the moment. I can’t decide if it’s his slightly rough, yet gentle hands grazing my skin or just the close proximity of him on his knees in front of me, but my mind is scrambled right now.

“Told you I’d keep you safe, right?” I hear him say, bringing me out of my stupor and down to him once again. His eyes remain on his task at hand, being careful as ever while cleaning my wounds. Instead of responding, I smile and simply nod back at him, relaxing a little as I do so. He seems to pick up on this, a soft, small smile making its way onto his face as well as he moves onto bandaging the now clean scrapes and cuts.

Once again, I feel his hands touch my skin with gentleness and care, but at the same time, I can’t help but revel in the sensualness of it as well. It doesn’t help that there are times that his touch lingers more than necessary and the smile on his face still has yet to die down. I can’t help but feel bad for the thoughts currently flowing through my mind, but a part of me likes the idea of him staying with me - minus the reason why, of course. Another part of me hopes this isn’t just a one time thing either.

[lilithlinen]

Too Old, huh? - Keanu Reeves x You

Requested by @sunnythebunny7 🙈❤️ I hope you like it!

Summary: The story follows a romantic relationship between Keanu Reeves and a younger woman in her 20's. There's a sense of protectiveness from Keanu due to the age gap, which amuses his bandmates, Brett Domrose and Robb Mailhouse. But what happens when she calls him an "old man"?

One day, after wrapping up another successful show for Dogstar, you decided to head out with your friends to enjoy a night out. As you prepared to leave, Keanu noticed your excitement and playful attitude, but also felt a bit apprehensive. It warmed his heart to see how happy it made you, but as an older man, he couldn't help but worry about your safety.

As you went out, Keanu couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. His band mates and best friends, Brett Domrose & Robb mailhouse tried to keep his mind off. While he trusted you, he couldn't help but feel protective of you, especially given the age difference between you two. As the hours passed, he grew increasingly anxious, waiting for you to return home safely.

Finally, when you came back, he could see that you were tired and worn-out from all the dancing and partying. As soon as he saw you, he took you into his arms and hugged you tightly. "Are you alright? Did you have fun?" he asked in a concerned tone.

Brett and Robb laughed in silence at how he reacted.

You smiled softly, appreciating his concern but slightly annoyed by his overprotectiveness. You're an adult, and you wanted to have some freedom. Still, you understood where his worries came from, so you decided to make light of the situation.

"I had a blast, don't worry," you replied with a grin, trying to reassure him while rolling your eyes at the same time. Then you added, half jokingly, "But seriously, I'm not a fragile little girl you need to baby sit! I can take care of myself, old man."

Keanu chuckled softly, amused by your playful banter. Despite your words, he appreciated that you acknowledged his concerns. He decided to take this opportunity to remind you of just how strong and capable he still was, even though he was older than you.

"Old man, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he gently pushed you towards your bedroom. He leaned close, whispering seductively into your ear. "Maybe it's time to show you what an old man like me can really do..."

You couldn't help but blush at his bold statement, but you followed him willingly into the room. Brett and Robb exchanged knowing glances, grinning widely as they left you two alone, leaving you both to figure things out.

Inside the room, Keanu closed the door behind you both and turned to face you. Your eyes met, sharing a moment of anticipation and desire. He pulled you closer, his hands finding their way to your waist, drawing you against his body. You could feel his strength and experience through every touch, despite his age.

"Remember, you asked for it," he murmured, "Your old man has to punish you."

His words sent shivers down your spine, a mix of naughty thrill and excitement coursed through you. Keanu's dark eyes held a fierce intensity, yet there was tenderness too, reflecting his love for you. He slowly lowered his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, taking control without being forceful. His stubble grazed your skin gently, sending more waves of pleasure throughout your body.

As the kiss deepened, you couldn't help but get lost in the moment. His taste, his touch - everything about him felt right. His hands moved skillfully, a testament to the passion he had for life and for you. He knew exactly how to make you feel desired, cherished, and safe all at once.

He slowly started to undress you, revealing your lingerie set - a soft pink color, matching your personality perfectly. Each piece removed revealed more of your beautiful body, causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach. He admired every inch, tracing his fingers lightly across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

"You're mine, aren't you?" he whispered against your neck.

The way he said 'mine' sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and lust intertwining. His possessiveness made your heart race faster. You nodded, unable to form words from the rush of emotions surging inside you.

A satisfied smile graced Keanu's face at your nod. He continued his trail of gentle touches, moving lower until he reached the waistband of your pink thong. With one swift move, he pulled down the last barrier between you two. His eyes lingered on your naked form, appreciating every curve and line.

"Mine," he repeated, this time with more authority. His hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of your body. He paused at your most sensitive areas, teasing you delicately, building the tension between you two.

"Now, show your old man how much you want him," he challenged, his voice low and husky. He wanted to know that no matter his age, you desired him just as much as he did you.

As he stepped back, he gestured towards the bed. "Get on, baby."

You hesitated only for a moment before obeying, climbing onto the bed and lying down on your back, you move away your Sanrio Plushies, making room for you and him before you spread your legs invitingly.

Keanu watched as you positioned yourself on the bed, moving aside your beloved Sanrio plushies. This simple act added a layer of intimacy, reminding him once again of your youthfulness. You were a mixture of innocence and sensuality, making him even more eager to satisfy your needs.

He climbed onto the bed next to you, trailing kisses along your body. Starting from your toes, he worked his way up, paying special attention to your sensitive spots. Every caress felt magical, sending ripples of pleasure through you. He savored each moan you made, knowing he was responsible for it.

Once he reached your lips, he looked into your eyes, filled with desire and love. "You're going to remember who you belong to tonight, just like the first time." His voice rumbled, promising more pleasure ahead.

With a devilish smile playing on his lips, Keanu began kissing down your body with newfound fervor. His mouth lavished tender kisses over your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples, causing a gasp to escape from your lips. Each flick felt electrifying, stirring a fire within you.

He trailed lower, kissing your belly button, making you giggle. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more. His fingers then brushed against your inner thighs, creating a tingling sensation that traveled straight to your core. He paused for effect, raising your anticipation.

Slowly, he dipped his head even further, kissing and nibbling on your sensitive skin until he reached the target of his affection. His breath tickled, setting off a symphony of sensations. The gentle nudges of his nose ultimately gave way to the sweetest torturous tease imaginable...his tongue. You moaned under his skilled movements, feeling your climax edging ever closer.

As he took you higher and higher, he muttered softly, "You're mine, and you'll come hard for me, baby."

Keanu didn't shy away from the task at hand, focusing on your engorged clit, licking and sucking it with an expert touch. His fingers massaged your outer folds, entering gently but surely into your wet heat. Simultaneously, he used his index finger to stimulate that sensitive spot again.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, pushing against his skilled mouth. A moan of pure lust escaped you, ratcheting up the sensual atmosphere. Keanu responded by increasing the pressure, knowing that he was bringing you close to that coveted release.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, "let go for your old man." His fingers pumped rhythmically. "Let me hear you scream my name!"

Each thrust of his fingers, each flick of his tongue, brought you closer to ecstasy. And finally, you cried out his name with raw abandon, arching your back under his ministrations. "FUCK, FUCK FUUUCCKK! Keanu!"

As he felt you tremble under him, Keanu removed his hand and mouth, looking up at you with satisfaction. "Did I meet your expectations? Or maybe you want more?" Keanu queried, his own desire evident in his eyes. He wanted you to know he craved you just as much, if not more.

You nodded, panting heavily, your cheeks flushed. Even in your post-orgasmic haze, you couldn't stop staring at him; the man who owned your body and soul. He grinned, pleased at the sight of your submission.

Slowly, he climbed up your body, pressing kisses along the way. When your lips met, you tasted yourself on his lips, a delicious reminder of what he'd done. His erection throbbed against your thigh, proof of his hunger for you.

"Turn over," he commanded, shifting positions smoothly. He adjusted you comfortably, positioning himself behind you. His fingers traced your curves, finding their way between your legs.

At last, he claimed possession again. "This is how an old man treats his girl." Pushing into you fully, he started moving steadily, savoring the way your body responded to his.

Despite the intense pace, he maintained a steady rhythm, reaching around to stimulate your nub once more. Together, you worked in harmony, driving you both towards another peak.

He whispered into your ear, "Nothing wrong with being taken by an older man, right?"

Your back arched impossibly, your nails digging into the sheets as Keanu took charge. You moaned his name, words slipping between gasps, expressing your approval and satisfaction. Yet, there was something else too, some hidden desire.

"Oh god, Yes!" you panted, your voice hoarse with pleasure, "Take me rougher." Your words surprised even you, but it confirmed what you truly desired. Keanu picked up on this change immediately.

He increased the pace, pounding harder, deeper. His chuckle echoed in the room, accompanied by the slaps of flesh meeting flesh. Each thrust drove you wilder, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Say it," he demanded between heavy breaths, his gaze intense, "Tell me how good it feels to be taken by an old man, hmm?" He added teasingly.

In response, you turned your head towards him, meeting his gaze. An unspoken agreement passed between you, reinforcing the connection shared between you two.

"It feels amazing, Keanu," your breath hitched, giving in to his domination. "So good, take me rough...don't stop..." You repeated, urging him on.

Keanu felt the desperation in your voice, the hunger for more, and he obliged eagerly. His thrusts became fiercer, more demanding. Each stroke ignited pleasure throughout your entire body. He matched his movements with your own, knowing how close you were to losing control.

He grabbed your hips firmly, commanding, "Come on, baby, let go. Scream my name."

The combination of his words and actions proved too much. You cried out his name, the sound reverberating off the walls. Your body shook violently under him, pulsating around him. Keanu rode out your climax, refusing to give in until you begged him to.

Finally, spent, he collapsed onto you, still buried deep inside. He kissed the back of your neck tenderly, catching his breath. "You're beautiful" he murmured, holding you close.

After recovering, Keanu gently extracted himself, turning you over. He cuddled up next to you, running his fingers through your hair lovingly. His heart pounded against his chest, signaling satisfaction and happiness.

"That was epic, 'old man'," you admitted with a playful giggle, clinging to him happily. "But seriously, I love you so much...and you know how much I love teasing you."

Keanu chuckled, loving this banter as much as he enjoyed your playfulness. He cupped your face, pulling you into a deep kiss. He tasted your love, feeling it reciprocated tenfold. This connection, this bond, meant more to him than anything else in the world.

"I couldn't be happier," he confessed, as gently ran his hand down your arm, appreciating your strength and beauty.

"And yes, I do know how much you love teasing me. But we both know I can keep up." He added teasingly, nuzzling your hair affectionately.

You rolled your eyes at his words but didn't deny it. Instead, you nestled closer, basking in the afterglow of passion and love shared.

Outside the room, the other band members probably heard snippets of your passionate encounter. They grinned knowing full well that their buddy had found something special, something worth protecting.

[iovesia]

𐚁֙࿐ MEET THE WICKS.

keanu mlist.⠀ 𑇓 ⊹ ᳝ ࣪ ⠀boyfriend's dad!john wick⠀𝑥⠀f!reader.

synopsis. fucking your boyfriend's dad was surely one way to leave a good first impression.

contents. cheating all around. everyone sucks here. ooc!john. large age gap (20s/40s). non-john wick universe au. outdoor sex. size difference. tummy bulge. 4.4k words.

⋆ 𓂃 ﾟ .⠀josie's little note: hello hello ! a happy new years to you guys, and here's a gift! i haven't been terribly active lately, i know— so hopefully this makes up for it ♡ haven't written a proper fic in ages so i kinda of hate this ://

“MY PARENTS ARE GONNA LOVE YOU.” 

You side eye your boyfriend at his reassuring smile, his hand on the wheel as the two of you drive further up the mountain to his parent’s home. You finally worked up the courage to meet your boyfriend, Michael’s parents. Having procrastinated this moment for almost two years, Michael finally wore you down to saying yes.

The rows of thick, dark trees trapped the two of you on this thin road up the mountains. Pearly white snowflakes float gently down on your window, your chilled breath creating a small fog as you reach to turn the heat up in the vehicle.

“Your parents are gonna think you fell and hit your head,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh c’mon!” Michael tuts, letting out a little huff. His eyes focused heavily on the road ahead, turning the wheel as the car took a left. “You’re way too hard on yourself.”

Truth be told you could’ve gone your whole life without meeting his parents. The prestiges Wicks. Michael was not the son of any run of the mill family, but rather the son of two CEOs of the largest cybersecurity companies in the world, while all your achievements were golden-sticker-on-a-piece-of-homework level at best.

“Says the kid of billionaires,” you say dismissively.

“Millionaires,” he corrects cheekily, earning a playful punch to the arm. “Baby, you gotta relax.. I love you, so by default my parents will love you too— or at least be nice enough to pretend.”

“Not funny, Michael,” your little whines turn into a soft laugh as your boyfriend chuckles. The two of you continue the drive up to Michael’s parents home. You two engage in nonchalant conversation that was periodically interrupted by a series of texts. Occasionally glancing over to Michael’s phone, you see the name “Maggie” popping up.

The hairs on your neck stand up, and your palms sweat onto the leather seat, but Michael’s soft smile reassures you .. a little.

Hours go by before he finally pulls up to the home and your jaw drops. Your eyes meet the sight of the gorgeous villa, decked with greystone walls with a light wooden trim. A small cobblestone bridge that goes over the infinity pool, leading to the large front door with crystal clear windows. This isolated winter wonderland of a villa (that Michael downplayed heavily— the ever humble man he is) was to be your home for Christmas. 

“Michael! This place is—”

“Smaller than the one in Italy, but my mother wanted something cozy.”

Your eye twitches a little at how dismissively he talks about this house. His nonchalant demeanour as he parks his car in the driveway of a home you’d never even be able to afford a fraction of. You simply nod, then unbuckle your seatbelt.

Ping.

You glance down at Michael’s hand, which quickly flips the phone face down. 

“Pretty popular, huh?” You joke half-heartedly, trying to probe a reaction. Michael smiles at you, shrugging his shoulders. Noticing his shoulders tense up, you try to ignore the pit in your stomach. The two of you get out of the car and unload your suitcases.

Each step across the small bridge and to the front door felt in slow motion, your heartbeat thumping your ears.

“You’re gonna be fine, baby,” Michael reassures, before ringing the doorbell.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

Click.

The heavy slategray door glides open slowly, and your fake smile plasters on at the sight of Michaels’ parents. Helen Wick, a graceful woman in her late 30’s. Her flat ironed brunette hair hugged her soft face, and her smile accentuated the faint laugh lines.

On the other hand, her husband John, the older of the pair, stood stoically. His black hair, and black eyes matched with his simple black slacks and button up protruded his muscles. His dark aura almost sucked the light out the area as he stood tall next to his happy wife. Helen’s hazel eyes meet yours as she hides her surprise with a plastic grin.

“Oh Mikey… she’s beautiful!” Helen exclaims, her voice a little pitched. 

Michael nudges your shoulder as Helen wraps her arms around you, giving you a stiff hug. You could smell the expensive Chanel No 5 from her neck, and the Michael Kors blouse was silk and soft against your hands as you hugged her back. Mr. Wick, remaining unimpressed as ever, simply watched the interaction unfold.

This was gonna be a long Christmas.

Dinner was painfully awkward. The scratching of gold silverware on the rare china plates filled the air. Inside their villa was just as impressive as the out. The warm lights of the christmas decor and the glorious christmas tree illuminated the luxurious dining room. You rest your elbow on their mahogany table, calmly taking a bite of your roasted turkey.

“Elbows, dear,” Helen hums from across from you, her tone almost motherly. Glancing down at your elbow, you flush embarrassed as you lean back against your chair. Michael sips his wine next to you, sighing at his mother’s uptight behaviour. 

John seems to be the quietest of them all, although you can feel his intense stare from across the table. The older man intimidates you to no-end, and some part of you is desperate to earn some form of approval from him. You always liked a challenge.

“So..” Helen breaks the silence again, clearing her throat. The light shines on her expensive bracelets and rings that adorn her hand as she sets her fork and knife down. “Tell us how you met our Michael.”

Michael and you share a glance, and he subtly urges you to speak. You smile softly, sipping your liquid courage before speaking. “We met at the diner I work at. Michael was always a regular, and refused to let anyone but me serve him,” You giggle at the memory, and Michael blushes.

“You’re a waitress?” John chimes in. You swallow at how low and husk his voice was, and you finally meet his dark orbs piercing into you. Like a little ant under a magnifying glass; his simple question felt like a heavy exam, and you were determined to pass.

“Yes.. It’s called Daisy’s Diner on Victory Boulevard” You furrow your brows, a little confused. “Didn’t Michael tell you..?”

“He led us to believe you owned a diner.. Not working in one..” John hums, seemingly returning to his unaffected attitude. Your lips are slightly parted in surprise, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you side eye Michael. He avoids your gaze, focusing down at his plate. 

“You told them I owned a food chain?” You huff, annoyance dripping in your voice. The dinner lasted for what seemed forever before the sun finally set and each couple retreated to their respective bedrooms. “Michael, what the hell?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Michael rolls his eyes, fluffing up one of the pillows. He rubs his eyes tiredly, and you can tell he’s getting agitated. “It’s fine— they didn’t mind.”

“Oh really?” You scoff, putting your silk pyjamas shorts on. “He led us to believe you owned a diner.. Not working in one..” you mock John’s voice, making your own deep and nasally. 

“My dad does not sound like a nasally Christopher Walken, but okay,” Michael snorts at your impersonation. You toss a pillow at him, hitting his chest.

“Not the point, Michael! You were supposed to be on my side, you just fed me to the wolves!”

“Grow up— you had an awkward conversation with my parents, it wasn’t the end of the world!”

“The whole point of this weekend was to get them to like me! You just sat there cutting your turkey into a million pieces!” The air in the room was thick with tension, the two of your moods souring as your voices raise. You wished your boyfriend had a spine, and he wished you didn’t have one. Letting out another huff, you grab your toiletries purse and head to leave the bedroom to go brush your teeth.

The brightly lit home was now dark and empty, aside from the moonlight shining in through the bright windows. You glance out, and see the snow top mountains faded behind a thick fog as you walk down the hall; feet padding softly on the cold wood.

When you finished in the bathroom, you were hardly paying attention as you opened the door, eyes half shut. Your face instantly pummels into something hard, making your eyes blink rapidly. A quiet hmph can be heard above you, and your eyes dart up to meet John’s. He stood there blankly, wearing nothing but his briefs.

Your face flushed with utter humiliation and you turned your head away. “Sorry— um— I didn’t see you—”

“Wrong bathroom.”

“Huh?” You raise a brow.

“You’re in my wife and I’s bathroom,” He repeats slowly, his tone slightly condescending. His chest rises as he takes a breath, and you can help but watch each muscle that twitches; feeling your throat go dry. You get lost in analysing the tattoos on his arms and shoulders that were so well hidden by his button up. 

“Oh..” you clear your throat, snapping out of it. “Sorry.. Michael told me this was the guest one..”

“Michael tells you a lot of things that are not true it seems,” John hums, a curious look on his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

No reply.

John simply shrugs, and shifts to the side, allowing you to pass him and you can’t help but take a peek at his toned back. For an older man, he seemed to take care of his body well. His defined muscles, covered in ink of religious tattoos and Latin proverbs, intrigued you to find out more. 

“It’s rude to stare,” his deep voice is in a low whisper as he shuts the bathroom door behind him, not even glancing back at you. Embarrassed and fascinated, you hurry back to yours and Michael’s room where you find him already asleep, his mouth open wide as he snores. His typically irritating habits of snoring loudly and taking up space seemed to be the least of your concerns as your mind is flooded with images of his father.

His father’s voice.. His father’s tattoos.. His father’s v-line that disappeared under his briefs.. 

You were too distracted to even notice Maggie had texted again.

The following days leading up to Christmas were suffocating to say the least. Unless Helen was there to kindly offer comedic relief or keep John occupied— it was as though you were constantly invigilated. Any anecdotes you told, the way you skied when the four of you went, how much or how little PDA you showed Michael: it was one big test, and you were failing, hard. 

You had no clue why you were desperate to please Michael’s father. Helen was easy enough to win over.. Perhaps it’s just the masochist in you, but his condescending words began to make you bashful, rather than embarrassed.

Michael’s been aware of your strange behaviour but can’t seem to put his finger on it. Worst part was you knew why he was suspicious— he was projecting. It seemed this trip to get you closer with his parents, ended up straining your own. 

“She’s a co-worker— fuck— I can’t keep explaining this to you!” Michael snaps defensively.

“Lower your voice— your parents are right there!” You hiss. The two of you stand outside on the back patio of the villa. Flames from the fireplace crackle, leaving an orange hue on both your faces. The sound of soft wind and smell of dinner oozing from the inside almost created a romantic atmosphere.

Had it not been for Maggie.

“What kind of co-worker texts you on PTO?” You whisper shout. Michael groans, rubbing his eyes as he turns away from you. “She’s been texting you everyday since this trip and it’s not the first time.”

“I’m busy— I work a lot. It’s probably about a project,” your boyfriend replies, almost being unconvincing on purpose. “You’re so goddamn nosy.”

“Nosy? I’m here meeting your parents and you’re probably sexting some random girl right now.”

“She’s not some random fucking girl.”

Your face drops. Your brows furrow together, the anger fading into a gentle hurt. The silence is deafening, and there’s zero remorse in Michael’s eyes for what he’s saying. A stunning realisation sets in that this Maggie is no longer just a notification you notice on his screen— but an actual person who Michael might harbour actual feelings for.

“Michael?” You ask quietly. "Who is she?"

Michael runs his hand through his hair, lips pursed as a sharp sigh escapes. His head hands low, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Agitation fills his figure to the brim, and another pregnant pause occurs. You pinch your thumbnail into your palm, anxiously waiting for his next word.

It never comes.

Michael just mutters to himself as he walks off the patio back inside, sliding the glass door shut loudly. You stand there in the cold, desolate quiet. A thousand thoughts running through your head, but your body stood still— unmoving. What felt like minutes, was hours as the lights inside the villa eventually turned off.

You sat on one of the lounge chairs in a small ball, knees to your chest and your stare fixated on the flames flickering. The ember fire warms your body, but can’t reach your frozen heart. For a strange reason.. Your eyes were dry, your lips weren’t trembling. Rather than a wave of sadness or betrayal— there’s a black hole, numbing you from the inside out. 

“(Y/N)?”

Turning your head to the side, you hear the glass door slide open and a tall silhouette emerges from the darkened villa. The moonlight glowed on his face, his black t-shirt and pyjamas sweats only accentuating his pale figure. 

“Hello.. Mr. Wick,” You clear your throat, pulling your knees closer to your chest. His faint footsteps become louder as he walks over to you, his looming shadow dimming the fireplace for a second before sitting next to you.

Here he was. The man who shamelessly steered clear of you like water and oil. The man who squinted his eyes at every word you said. The man who was now sitting right next to you in the dead of night.. His legs manspreading a little too close for comfort.

Your leg twitches a little, either from pure anxiety or the Vermont air breezing past your almost bare skin. Perhaps a thin Henley shirt and jeans were not the best choice of clothing, you scold yourself. 

Occasionally you glance over at the older man, who simply sits hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees with his fingers interlocked with each other. The gold of his wedding ring glowed like a red warning sign. You were surrounding an intimate fireplace inches away from a married man— your boyfriend’s married father. 

“So um—”

“You alright?”

He cuts your sentence off as usual.. But there was a sincerity in his question, albeit his blank expression. Your face softens with genuine surprise, and you scratch your arm, adjusting your sitting position. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie.

“Fine with the way Michael talks to you?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you shrug. The lines of appropriate conversation topics began to blur, and you worry that trash-talking your boyfriend to his father was definitely crossing something.

“I apologise for his behaviour.” This dude’s a fucking paradox.

“What?”

“Helen and I never raised Michael to raise his voice at a woman, let alone curse at you. And for that I apologise,” John repeats blankly. His amiable words were dampened by his impassive body language and tone. 

Was he serious? Was it sarcasm? Was it a test for your reaction?

“Thank you” was your safe option, and he nods at your reply, still not even looking your way. Your leg continues twitching anxiously— and this he notices.

“Cold?” John asks.

“What?”

“Your leg.”

Like an obedient pet, you stop your twitching immediately. You hug yourself a bit, leaning back against the lounge couch, trying to create some distance. John mimics your movements, letting out a soft sigh as he does so. As he rolls his shoulders back— a soft crack hissing— his left arm lifts and reaches back, wrapping around your shoulders.

Eyes widened. Heart beating. Throat dry.

This was definitely crossing the line.

“Mr. Wick—” 

“John.”

Chewing your bottom lip anxiously, you shift in your seat again, but his arm remains firm around your shoulders, gently pulling you against his side.

“John..” the name feels foreign on your tongue. “What are you doing?”

“You can do better than Michael.”

His words almost make you chuckle— if it wasn’t for your chest tightening. Your brows snap together as you look at him, full of confusion. The entire week you spent trying to impress, and show you were good enough for Michael son— only to be met with such.. Praise? Could you even call it that?

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You don’t think so?”

“Well..” you pause, repeating the phrase in your head over and over. “You spent this past week completely tearing me down, and mocking me.. Where’s all this coming from now?” Tenacity laced in your voice, and for the first time, John’s pink lips pull into a small smile.

“So just because I’m not explicitly praising your every movement means I’m tearing you down? Are you truly that desperate for me to approve of you?” John licks his teeth, a rare chuckle leaving his mouth. Heat rushes to your face at his taunt. 

“I don’t need your approval..” you weakly defend. John tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes surveying you before leaning back. You’re almost disappointed at his retrieval of his arm, letting your warm skin cool down. 

“You have it.”

If you jaw wasn’t dropped already, it was on the floor by now. 

“You’re nice girl, and you're humble. A diner is hard, honest work. I wasn’t born the boss— everyone has to start somewhere, and I respect that.”

“So why act so.. disappointed?” You stammer, eyes blinking rapidly. 

“I was disappointed my son had the balls to lie to me,” John clears his throat. “Lied about where you work, when you met.. He was born with a golden spoon in his mouth, of course he doesn’t respect you.”

He doesn’t respect you.

“... He loves me,” you whisper, almost in denial. But deep down in your frozen heart, you knew the truth. All the arguments, the dismissive tone, the hiding were physical proof right in front of your nose.

“That’s not the same thing,” John hums. “He’s cursing you out at his parent’s home— my home— I can only imagine what else he must be doing.”

You don’t know the half of it, is what you wanted to say. But for the sake of not burning bridges, you kept your lips shut. Suddenly, the pad’s of John's finger brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was electric. Warm. Intoxicating. Merely a bristle of his touch made your chest tighten.

"Michael was right about one thing.. You are beautiful.”

Before you could come to your senses, your soft lips were enraptured with eyes. He swallows your little squeal of surprise, and your back meets the arm of the couch. A ringing echoes in your ear, like a bomb going off. Your boyfriend’s father.. had just made a move on you.

And you like it.

His tongue slips past your lips, meeting yours. You feel his warm big hand cupping at your hip, the other slipping under your thigh to lay you down better on the couch. His taller frame was much bigger now that it hovered over you, keeping you firmly pinned. 

“J-John— stop— we can’t!” You manage to pull your face to the side, your lips leaving his. “Your wife— and my boyfriend— your son are right upstairs! Their rooms are right—”

“So you better be quiet then.”

His firm tone sends shivers down your spine, and you were once again suffocated with his lips. The sound of your jeans unbuttoning hits your ears and you realise there’s no turning back. Your mind flashes with moments of this week where you ogled his body. 

No longer were your dreams of his tough hands, his manly shoulders or deep voice just a distant fantasy.. but now a reality. You let out a sharp gasp, when you feel pressure on your nub. His sneaky fingers managed their way under your thin panties. His painstakingly slow circles had you squirming like a puppy.

John chuckles at your needy little whines, looking down at your face and watching as it twists into growing pleasure. Ignoring the cold mountain wind, the two of you are quick to shred your pants, drinking in the absolute tabooness of the situation.

Your nails dig into couch pillows, your leg resting over his shoulder. John hisses softly, his large tip barely kissing your entrance. Your eyes trail away from his gorgeous face up to the open window on the second floor. The lights were off, and a small pit of guilt filled your stomach. But soon to be filled with something else, when John suddenly leans in, letting his tip slide past your folds.

“Fuck—” You bite your lip hard. A baritone chuckle echoes through the empty patio and he continues to slowly slide in, stretching your tiny hole out to the brim. The wind promptly knocked out your lungs as your eyes almost rolled back. 

“Look at you.. taking it all in like a good little girl,” John taunts but it only makes you throb, clenching tight around him. You blink rapidly trying to focus, but his mocking coos only fluster you more. “Oh.. someone’s enjoying this.. You like when I praise you, don’t you?”

His hips begin at a gradual pace, and you slap your hand over your mouth, desperately trying to swallow your moans and whimpers. John’s longish black hair was covering most of his face, as he leaned down. Your knee was almost to your face, and you whine at the burn in your legs.

“Y-Yes— I do—” You admit bashfully. Thrust by thrush, his hips rut faster and faster against your small frame. The sound of his heavy balls hitting the curve of your ass were so sinful and sticky, and you feared Helen or Michael hearing you two. 

“So desperate to make a good impression..” John’s hand rests above your pussy, completely fixated on the small bump his large cock is causing. His tip kisses your cervix as he fills your spongy walls, a thin white ring forming at the base. “...that you’re slutting yourself out to a man twice your age.”

His mean tone and jeering words make your eyes water with humiliation, but your moans sing a different tune. John lets out a groan as your cunt flutters around him, shifting his grip to your waist, and his fingers pinching painfully.

“Such a filthy little girl..” he coos in your ear. You squeal girlishly against your hand, biting down on your finger. John drinks in the teary look in your doe eyes, the way they almost roll back in pleasure. Your soft lips around your finger, as you clamp down hard when he begins to toy with your breast. “With such pretty tits— and such soft skin.”

John’s head dips down, his lips wrap around one of your nipples and you let out a loud cry. He’s quick to bite when you slip up and start making too much noise. The feel of his tongue swirling your bud, and his cock plunging in and out of you was too much, and the knot in your belly tightened.

“Ohmygod— fuck—” You whisper and pant as quietly as you can. John laughs against your skin, his hands like magic as they hit every button that makes you squeal. 

“Baby needed a real man to make her feel good, hm?” John asks rhetorically and you nod hurriedly through tears, as you lie a babbling mess under his powerful stature. He continues fucking you relentlessly, each thrust beginning to bruise your poor pussy. 

“D-Don’t stop— please— ohgod—” You stammer and sob.

John leans back up, but keeps your thigh pressed to your chest with his hand. Running another hand through his black locks, and wiping the sweat off his hairline, he groans harshly. The bulge in your stomach popping up and down kept the blood rushing to his cock.

“Gonna cum inside— make you all nice and full,” He pants. “You want that, hm?”

“Yes— yes please— please—” You don’t even care how pathetic you sound. How needy you sounded. Like all sound of mind flew out the window the moment you came here. The moment he even wrapped his arm around you. 

His abs contort and his thrusts began to get sloppier. He gripped your soft hips like a vessel, like he owned you. John grins devilishly at your pretty little cries and pleas, enjoying how much you craved him.

“God you make the prettiest noises— all for me, hm? Just for me,” John hisses, snapping his hips faster against you as his fingers work skillfully on your bundle of nerves, sending waves through your trembling legs. 

You let out an embarrassingly loud squeal, wallens tightening around his thick girth when you feel climax approaching. He shoots ropes of his warm seed inside you, filling you to the brim.

The air is filled with the sound of your weak moans and his quiet pants. Your bodies drenched in sweat, and the Vermont wind is painfully cold now as the passion fades. The thirst of desperation was now quenched with guilt and horror as you realised what you’ve done.

John returns to his blank expression, pulling out of you with a sloppy sound. You wince when his fingers wipe your sensitive folds, collecting his cum on his fingers as he pushes it back inside you. “These pillows are expensive.”

You lie there in shock at how nonchalantly he behaves: like he didn’t just ravage his son’s girlfriend on the couch, leaving her covered in lovebites and full of warm cum. You watch as he tucks himself back into his sweats, and heads back inside the villa.

Soon enough you follow suit, and dress yourself to come back inside. The house was dark and empty, presumably everyone was asleep at this point. You tiptoe to your room with Michael, and thankfully he lies snoring away— unaware what you just committed.

You change into fresh panties and pyjamas, feeling John’s sticky cum on your thighs as it leaks out of you. The betrayal and sin leaks from your skin as you climb into bed, and guilt drips from your pores when Michael wraps his arm around you. 

Guilt that you wish it was John’s arm instead.

Fin.

john wick taglist : @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @97keanu @scream-queen-25 @gea-chan96 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers @dreamgirlhammett @ilovedilfs4ever @aerangi @spacemonkeyfitz @danne-blr-blog @hqkkinen @Faowhe @indiadnm

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀join/remove from my taglist.

© 𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀, 2023. do not copy, repost or translate my works.

[imajinxnation]

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

All of them

Some gifs from pinterest, some from @keanujpg

-TOP 10-

1- Neo (Thomas Anderson)

I like sweet bois..

2- Johnny Silverhand

I also have a tendency to like assholes who can fuck good..

3- Conor O'Neill

I also like losers who're trying to reform themselves..

4- Rupert Marshetta

He's a cute boy who just wants to be a dolphin..

5- Donnie Barksdale

I honestly can't tell you why I find him appealing..

6- Don John

Medieval villain babe.. what's not to like..

7- John Wick

I mean.. do I need to explain..

8- John Constantine

Hot exorcist man..

9- Johnny Mnemonic

Best courier around..

10- Ted Logan

Sweet bb boi..

[smuttyfantasyrecs]

John Wick

🦋 alone together 🦋

@ficsnroses

🦋 compliant 🦋

@thatfanficstuff

🦋 can it wait 🦋

@reevesdriver

🦋 bedroom window 🦋 wedding bells 🦋 burning desire 🦋

@fanficsrusz

🦋 dirty little secret 🦋

@fics-not-tragedies

🦋 santa baby 🦋

@fortheloveoffanfic

🦋 I licked it so it's mine 🦋

@ladyreapermc

🦋 motorcycle man 🦋

@keanuvibe

🦋 worn out 🦋

@iworshipkeanureeves

[greenmanalishi]

The John Wick franchise (2014-2023)

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 2: you get me closer to god.

Summary: John is a manipulator, and she, is the new subject of his obsession.

Warnings: this chapter contains stalking, mentions of large age gap, graphic descriptions of violence, and manipulation.

read the warnings. john is not only a menace, he is evilllll.

Author’s note: and we are back, baby. today, in this chapter, you are going to be witnessing a LOT of fucked up shit from none other than john wick himself. my man’s been doing a lot, god bless his poor soul.

also may i remind you all that the reader here is naive! she is stupid! she is not the brightest! she’s just desperate for attention and affection, so her decisions are always stupid and all of that. (please do not hate her, she is trying her best.)

this took me a while to write because it’s long asf and also because you know me, i always struggle with the english language, but i hope i won’t disappoint you with this chapter!

thank you so much for waiting and continuing to support this fic! really, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and i really appreciate all your sweet comments and reblogs on my last post.

i hope you also enjoy this new chapter since we’re going to have another peak of what goes on in john’s dark, dark mind. (I PROMISE THE SEX SCENE WOULD BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.)

and again, this is not edited so all mistakes are on me! i really do apologize, english is not my first language.

Word count: 10.6k

also read on AO3

In this business, you’d see different kinds of reactions when a man walks into a room.

They all see themselves above everybody else. They think they’re better, deadlier, smarter. That’s the kind of mindset you need if you want to survive. How will you get out of being held at gunpoint when you’re a weakling?

When a man walks into a room, they’ll take a moment to stare.

On the outside, you’d think these people have a lot of respect for one another since they all work in the same circle anyway. But in real life, you’d see the blatant lack of respect these people truly have for each other, because they’ll stare and judge.

When John walks into a room, it’s a different story.

Fear.

John is not like any other man in business they think they could just judge and get away with it, no. John is well respected and feared. He could see it in their eyes when he pass by. The extreme discomfort and alarm to be in the same presence as him. Even if they try so hard to hide it, John sees right through them.

They view him as… something but human. He’s a killing machine. An attack dog. A monster, some would even say. 

Back in the days, John wasn’t exactly fond of the names they’ve been giving him. When he was still new in the game, he didn’t like how he struck fear over these people because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power he truly has over them.

But now, something has shifted.

John is a free man. Not the kind of free when he was with Helen, but free nonetheless. Free because instead of getting alarmed with the fact that he’s feared all over this underworld, he’s taking advantage of it. Much to the higher ups dismay. They have been having a very hard time keeping up with his recent activities.

Growing up, it seemed like John got the worst sadistic discipline in Ruska Roma.

All of them did, don’t get him wrong. All of them suffered – blood, sweat and tears. They were all forced to go through extreme discipline, because it’s the crack of the whip that gets the rats going.

But John… John got the worst of it.

He used to take the fall for his fellow students. Fingers couldn’t count just how many times he was belted on the back for someone else’s mistake. The amount of times he was starved, denied of any kind of food or water, and that’s how it’s always been.

John has always been denied for the things he wanted. The things he needed.

Now, he is not greedy. He’s not just going to take everything in his way like a kid that got away from its parents’ grip, because he doesn’t want a lot of things. John already has a house, a dog companion, enough money to last forever.

John already has everything except her.

His most happy moments couldn’t compete with the hot curl within his guts that he feels every time his mind flashes back to that night. That night when she gave in, when she gave herself away to him – willingly. 

John didn’t need to give her a little push to finally get her. She practically offered herself to him, bared her neck and John’s itching to take a bite. To finally make her his once and for all, but really, he doesn’t need to do that to know that she’s his. 

Like he said, he’s not going to force himself into her life. He’s going to be welcomed. By the looks of it, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do after all. Not when she’s already giving up information about herself to John through texts – she’s practically making it easy for him to get her.

So naive. Doesn’t got a fucking clue in the world.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine –

John looks at his phone, reading the messages both of them sent each other the night before, and there it is again. The itch in his hands, the need to possess.

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

John changed her name on his phone. He changed it to something more… intimate. More sweet. 

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : I could never.

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : You’re hard to forget.

He remembers – no, saw – how she responded. With a smile on her face, hopeful.

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : using my words against me, i see :D 

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : good to know you’re still as slick as the last time we chatted haha

13.06.15 11:49 PM

John : Hard not to. I wanted to impress you.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : you already did.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : with all your brooding and intimidating look. just my type ;D 

John smiles to himself as he reads the message. He remembers the look on her face when she’s typing, and hasn't got a clue that the man she’s flirting with was observing her just from across her building. John wouldn’t call it invading her privacy, he calls it keeping her safe.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : anywho i asked for your number for a reason. i really do want to talk to you again. not just in chat, i mean, but also in real life :) 

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : maybe we could get to know each other more? what do you say??? meet up again, but this time planned unlike our other previous meetups?? haha

He is not a teenager to be feeling this giddy over reading messages, but she truly brings out something shameful in him.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

John : I should be the one asking you that.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : you were taking too looonggg :( 

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : so what do ya think?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : Of course I’ll go. I told you I’d make time for you, didn’t I?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : I’m a man of my word.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

Bambi : ok that’s great! i was so worried you wouldn’t say yes.

John had averted his eyes from the phone that night and onto the little lady across the building. She was rolling around on her bed, still dressed in her pink, fluffy robe and her hair was still wet. She looks like a puppy that John wanted to pet; stroke her hair and tell her she’s his good girl.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : When do you want to meet? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : aahhhhh let’s see

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : i have classes tomorrow morning BUTTT we can def meet up during lunch! i get out of school at like 12 and go to work at 3 :D

I know, John wanted to say. I’ve memorized your everyday schedule in the span of two days.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : How about I pick you up from your school, we grab lunch, and I drop you off to work?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : Or is it too soon? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : oh my god no way REALLY?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : nooo it’s not too soon don’t worry! you def could so we have more time to talk and everything! i just hope i won’t be bothering you or anything.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : do you have work tomorrow? you look like a 9 to 5 kinda guy :P 

God, she’s fucking adorable. 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

John : I don’t, so you don’t have to worry. I’d love to talk to you more as well.

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : ok! i cannot wait for tomorrow. i should probably sleep now tho so i wouldn’t look shitty when you see me :D 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : here is the address of my school. [Address]

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : can’t wait to see you tomorrow, john! goodnight, see you soon! x

13.06.15 11:55 PM

John : Goodnight, sweet girl. Have a good sleep.

John hadn’t meant to type that. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, terrified that he somehow scared her away with the sudden affection. But then he saw her read his message, dropped her phone on the bed, and then rolled over again like a lap dog.

She’s too easy to tame, so gullible. John almost couldn’t believe how fast she folded, how desperate she really is. But then again, he could say the same about himself. Lonely and desperate, they were meant to be together. He likes to believe God had put them in this position because of fate, because he has a plan for every single one of us.

John’s never been the one to believe in Him, but he finds himself grasping to that very little delusion that keeps him from going insane.

*

11:55 AM, the students are already making their way out of their designated buildings. 

John is keeping his guard on high alert, eyes scanning the crowd to find her. He’s parked just across the school gate, leaning against his car as he checks the time on his wrist. He’s also holding his phone in the other, waiting for it to vibrate in case she drops a message.

He’s never felt this giddy before. Hands clammy and eyes searching frantically, excited because he’s finally getting to spend alone time with her, but also worried in fear of losing her in the crowd. John doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have the upper hand. When he doesn’t have control of the situation. When she’s not in his line of vision and could be doing god knows what without his supervision.

He checks his phone again. 11:58, where is she?

John knows at this time, she should be out and about already, waiting for a cab to her apartment. His fingers itch, hovering over the screen of his phone. He begins contemplating if he should send a message, but that would make him look demanding and clingy. He doesn’t want to leave that kind of impression on her, or otherwise he’d have no choice but to abduct her and keep her locked away if she thinks about running –

He blinks, sucking in deep breath. 

“Shit,” he whispers, looking up to the school gate again. This isn’t good. What the fuck was he even thinking? 

John tries not to think about it. Tries to convince himself that he is not as fucked up as his mind is making him out to be. He wouldn’t stoop that low, he’s not that cruel –

Are you not?

A certain someone appears in the crowd, standing outside the school gate, already spotting John and waving at him from across the road. Her face is bright, smiling wide. John never wanted to possess something so bad.

He waves back, all his dark thoughts suddenly gone, and everything is rainbows and sunshine. John watches as she crosses the road carefully, looking left and right, seeming small with the people around her. She looks like a lost puppy.

John wants to pet.

“John, hey!” she beams, running up to him to give him a hug which catches John off guard. She’s on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and John doesn’t want to make her upset for not immediately reacting with her affection, and so he puts his arm around her waist and bends down to place his chin on her shoulder. 

He fights the urge to bury his nose in her neck, then maybe sucks a few hickeys, leaving a bite mark to show that the big, bad wolf has already marked his mate.

She’s so fucking easy to get, John thinks.

When she pulls away from the hug, John tries not to look disappointed. Her cologne lingers in his nose. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You don’t ever need to say sorry for that,” John says, faux stern as he places a hand on her waist subtly. She looks like she doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing.

“Okay then,” she smiles politely. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I look like a mess. Just say the words and I would totally change to more appropriate clothes before we go somewhere.”

“You look beautiful,” John says smoothly, standing up straight. Even though she looks underdressed next to John who’s wearing a three-piece suit, she is still heart-wrenchingly beautiful. In fact, John likes the contrast.

“T-thanks.”

“Should we go?”

“Sure! I’m excited,” she giggles, the sound practically dancing in his ear. “I’m hungry. Where will we eat?”

“Hm, what do you like?” he asks.

“Dunno. Burger and milkshake.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“The only thing I can afford, unfortunately,” she jokes, though John doesn’t answer, only opening the car door for her. “We should eat in a diner. I know a good one! Also cheap, so you won’t have to worry about the price.”

“I never worry about the price, darling,” John murmurs, but still loud enough for her to hear as she gets inside the vehicle. He swiftly walks to the driver’s seat and starts the car, glancing at his little bambi who’s observing the interior intensely. “You like it?”

“It’s so cool. I’ve never been in a car like this.”

“You’re going to have a lot of firsts when you’re with me.”

As John starts driving, the girl beside him babbles. Not that he minds, of course. He listens and nods, so obsessed with her voice that he could listen to it forever. It’s amazing how John could easily hide the fact that he was just stalking her from across her apartment the night before in the back of his mind, like it never even happened. It’s amazing how he could act like he wasn’t just thinking about kidnapping her and locking her away from the public forever.

But then again, everything about his little bambi would make anyone risk it all for her.  It’s not just John. Anyone would do the same if they were in his shoes.

“How was school?” John asks, averting his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.

“Eh, it was alright. Classes always drain me, no wonder I’m so hungry now,” she answers politely. One of the few things John noticed about her. How she doesn’t run out of things to say, how she can get the conversation going. “How about you? You going to work after our lunch? You’re dressed up for it.”

“I took the day off today,” he replies vaguely.

“What? Why?”

“I have a date with you.”

She seems to be shocked by John’s choice of words, but she’s more concerned with the fact that John took the day off for her. “Y-yeah, but you didn’t have to do that. We could just go on a date next time.”

“The sooner, the better,” he explains, feeling another surge of something hot into his veins. She agreed that this is a date. Just how fucking gullible can she get? “Work is no problem for me. I want to get to know you more.”

“O-okay. I wanna get to know you more too.”

When John catches a glimpse of her bright smile beaming at him, his hands tighten around the wheel and he steps on the gas harder.

*

John doesn’t like how his mind isn’t making him remember about Helen.

He should be remembering her. He should feel some kind of guilt for being in a restaurant with another woman, but he doesn’t. Every single day since she died, his mind would always make him think about her. But now, it’s like John completely forgot about her existence at all.

The wedding ring on his finger is long gone. Ever since his unhealthy obsession began, he thought that wearing that while doing something so sinful felt so wrong. Helen shouldn’t have to witness all the things he had done in the name of a girl he had only met once that time.

The diner isn’t packed with people. The sizzling of the burgers grilling on the pan and the chatters seem to drown out eventually when his little bambi starts talking.

John gives her a small smile, barely there, just to show her that he’s listening, all his attention is on her.

“Time seems to pass by so fast, huh? I remember when I bumped into you the first time, I really thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she starts the conversation with a bang, but thankfully John’s prepared for this type of talk.

“So you really wanted to see me then?” he smirks slightly.

“Yeah! You’re really good looking and it’s not always I see a guy as handsome as you in my apartment complex and my school,” she says bluntly, though John could see the faint blush on her cheeks when she mentions the word ‘good looking.’ “So of course I had to take my chance when I met you again at that club! God, you were my knight in shining armor. I would’ve been crushed to death if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s why you should always be careful on the road. You’re small, everyone could look past you if you weren’t careful enough.”

She pouts, placing her chin on her hand as she stares lovingly at John. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not small. You’re just saying that because you’re too big. And I’m always careful on the road – it was only that time that I lost balance and almost fell.”

“Then it better not happen again,” John says sharply, leaning back against the cushioned seat as he stares back at her challengingly. “But there’s no need to worry for the next time. I won’t let that happen again.”

“Next time?” she teases. “So you want to see me again next time, then?”

“Have I not made it clear with my actions and words?” John shoots back, raising another eyebrow. She likes it when he’s being stern like this. All authoritative. She might not know it yet, but her body language speaks for itself. “Do you want to see me again?”

The little bambi smiles brightly, and It hurts. It hurts John to see that smile because she’s just like the sun. But no matter how much she shines, John would do anything just to touch. Just to possess. Just to break.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have gotten your number if I didn’t, right?”

“Good.”

It’s not like she could do much anyways if she says no. Nothing will ever stop John from seeing her again, no matter how bad the procedure would be.

The food then arrives and is served on the table, and John thinks he has never felt anything like this before.

His hands have never felt this itchy before. That desperate, longing feeling to just possess the very thing that’s placed right in front of you. Everything about her is just so captivating, staring up at John like he’s the one who hung the moon, so full of adoration and hope.

Seems like John isn’t the only desperate one between the two of them. He could see it in her eyes. She’s practically begging him to take care of her.

And really, he can’t blame her.

An absent mother and an alcoholic father. No wonder she’s seeking attention from a man like John. A man old enough to be her father – if not older than her own father. John would be more than willing to fulfill the role her father failed to be when she was young. He’d do anything to protect her, morals be damned.

She looks too good to be true sitting right in front of him and he didn’t think watching someone devour a burger twice as big as her face would be so endearing. The way she licks her lips, the way her eyes sparkle every time John would pay attention to the little things she’d absentmindedly insert in her stories. No one must’ve given her this kind of attention before. No one but John.

“Oh, before I forget!” She places a hand on John’s arm that’s perched on the table. A mere innocent touch, yet he can’t help but feel a little giddy on the inside. “We’ve been talking for like, an hour now, and I still haven’t asked what your job is. I’ve been really curious ever since you told me you took a day off just for this. Are you like the boss or something?”

Ah. Of course.

A question like this is inevitable, thank god John came prepared. 

“No,” he simply says. “I’m a book binder. I collect and restore books as both a hobby and job.”

“Wow,” she nods her head, now interested as she leans forward and closer to him. She smells so sweet, John feels like he’s snorting sugar. “I didn’t think book binding could earn you so much money. Considering you’re dressed pretty… comfortably. And you have a nice car.”

“It pays enough,” John replies. Sooner or later she’d find out what he really does for a living, and no doubt she’d be scared. John already has a plan of action for when that would happen, but for now, he’ll try to keep it a secret as long as he can. “Pays enough to let me spoil you in the future. In fact, I think I might just start spoiling you now.”

“You say that to every woman you meet?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasing. 

“Just for you. You’re special.”

John sees the way she immediately turns shy and nervous from the statement. It must’ve felt overwhelming, having someone so much older and with more experience to hit on her like that. But John would say it brings a whole different feeling in him, like ego-lifting of some sort, knowing he just might be the only man that treated her right in her life.

Does killing one of her guy friends and storing him in his basement means treating her right? Does stalking her and watching her sleep from across the building is a way to treat her right? Different story to be told for another day.

“I believe you,” she says, smiling. 

Of course you do.

John diverts her attention from him. “You’re a veterinary student and also part time in a veterinary clinic. What made you want to pursue it?”

“Uh, let’s see. I don’t really have like, a very logical reason for it. I just really love animals and I want them to be part of my job as well,” she shrugs. “As for the part time thing, one of my older friends works there and got me in to gain some experience. I don’t really do much, I help with the paperworks and watch how they do stuff around there.”

I know.

“Your unconditional love for animals is logical enough.”

“I know right. Best job in the world, I might add. I get to pet all kinds of different animals everyday, and mind you I’m not even a real doctor yet,” she giggles, then tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you have a pet, John?”

“I do. I have a dog,” he answers, taking a sip of his own milkshake. It’s sweet, it’s something he’s not used to, but it reminds him of her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t named her yet.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how to. I’m not good with names,” John shrugs. This conversation with her alone just might be the longest conversation he’s ever shared with someone ever since Helen died. And even with his late wife, he wasn’t as talkative as this. “Maybe you could name her. She’s a large pitbull but surprisingly very gentle for her size.”

“Oh my god, John, I have to meet her!” She beams. “Maybe on our next date, don’t you think? Let’s bring her with us to the park, have a little picnic there or something.”

Next date.

She wants to go on another date with him and she is making this a lot easier for John.

His lips stretch into a rare smile, fingers twitching subtly around the glass as he stares right into her eyes. There’s no hidden intention behind them, just pure adoration with a twinge of hope. Probably hopes that John wants the same thing as her, but he wouldn’t let her know that she is in for a lot more than she bargained for.

“I can’t wait for our next one.”

*

John could still remember the little things that made him feel human. 

Back in the Marines, when he first killed somebody, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and self-hating that he couldn’t sleep for a week. He’d have nightmares of it; of holding his gun up to somebody’s head and blowing it up with just one single movement. The residue of the flesh splattered all over his face, some of them even went to his mouth. His hands shaked but he didn’t let his crew see it. In their eyes, that wasn’t the first time he had done it.

When he was recruited by Viggo and his little minions, the guilt of killing people was still there, but barely. He used to wish he didn’t feel any guilt or remorse at all every time he pulled a trigger, but looking back at it now, he wishes he could just take it all back. It was only guilt that he felt most of his life, but it made John human.

Now, he doesn’t feel very human as he stands in the middle of an abattoir holding a machete with pints of blood pooling at his shoes.

Back then, he used to kill. Point, shoot, leave. A very short routine he told himself to stick with unless he wanted to get in trouble. But now, he is not only just killing. John is fucking slaughtering people.

His eyes land on the dead body hanging from the meat hook. Naked, gutted alive just a few moments ago. His stomach is sliced open with his own intestines wrapped around his neck, and it fucking stinks.

The raw stench of human blood mixing with the already reeking smell of the slaughtered pigs hanging just besides the one John had slaughtered himself. 

Really, John should feel even just a little amount of remorse or disgust. His client didn’t particularly gave him a specific order on how to fucking kill the target, John did it himself. He didn’t know what the fuck was he thinking when he was doing the wet work, all he knows is that he’s getting worse each day that passes.

The killing part took some time considering the man certainly put up a fight. He was smuggling drugs inside the pigs he was slaughtering. It works on people too, though it’s too risky. Dying with balloons of cocaine up your throat or ass isn’t exactly the way you’d want to die, nor the kind of state you want your body to be in.

John really didn’t mean to go this far, but all the pent up anger and frustration led him to do something so ugly. He feels like a ticking bomb. Every second a little part of humanity just starts fading away, who knows what would happen if all of it were gone. 

This is his first kill since his date with his bambi. That was five days ago. John decided to take another job while he’s waiting for her next decision. He doesn’t want to look clingy and creepy by constantly texting her every chance he gets, so he lets her do it in her own phase. Though, waiting for her texts sure did take a lot of rampant rage on John’s side. Lots of broken furniture and a creepy amount of hours watching her sleep from across the building. 

Just because John is letting her do her own thing for the meantime, doesn’t mean he gets to take his eyes off of her. It’s for the best. 

Their last conversation was yesterday. It was a pretty long conversation, but not long enough for John’s satisfaction. She left it off by saying she’s going to be busy studying for her test and cleaning her apartment, which John didn’t have the time to check if she was telling the truth since he was busy himself.

John is dying to see her again but he knows he’s gonna have to wait it out in the Continental. Or maybe if he’s feeling a little bit insane, he’d ditch having to rest and spend his time sitting on a dusty chair in the same dusty room he’s been staying in for awhile; the building across from her apartment. But until then he’ll have to see where time will take him.

His phone ringing in his jacket is what snaps him from his thoughts. Bringing a bloodied hand to get it, he almost couldn’t press the screen by the slippery liquid covering his fingers. John presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to speak.

“Hey, boss. How’s Russia treating you so far? Hopefully not great ‘cause I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.” The deep voice of Alex echoes in the abattoir. It must’ve slipped John’s mind that he had sent Alex again to tail her again while he’s out overseas.

He furrows his brows, curious. “How is she?”

“Hm, let’s see here. Your little pet has been up and about all day with her little friends after they’ve finally noticed the disappearance of that little shit we took care of a while back – speaking of which, how is he by the way?”

“Rotting. Dissolving in my basement,” John replies, hands tightening around the handle of the machete. So this is what she’s been doing and the reason why she hasn’t messaged him all day. “I say the fucker got what he deserved. He’s a creep who preys on women to rape, I’m just thankful we got him out of the way before he got to her.”

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t know that and I doubt she’d even stop looking for her creepy friend unless they’ve found him. What do you want me to do?”

“Give it a day or two. Wait for me to get back and I’ll take it from there.”

“Anything else?” John hears loud chattering in the background, he furrows his brows.

“Yeah. Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, keeping her in my sight like you told me to?” Alex sounds particularly sassy. John doesn’t know if he should be pleased or not. “She’s at a restaurant. I think she’s having a meeting with her other friends or something – she looks upset.”

“Upset because of her missing friend, I assume.”

“Probably. Have you talked to her at all today, boss? Pretty sure I have not yet seen her pick up her phone all day.”

“No,” John simply says. “But she will. I’m sure of it.”

“I see you’ve finally gotten her dependent on you now.”

“Not enough, apparently, since she’s gone a full day without talking to me.”

“Well, you’re definitely getting there,” Alex says under his breath. “I’m going now, boss. They’re leaving to god knows where.”

John doesn’t say anything else, only ending the call and pocketing back his phone. He looks around the area, the coppery smell of blood is stronger than before. He is the reason why it stinks in here, the reason why there’s so much blood and brutality. The body that hangs right in front of him is lifelessly staring with dead, cold eyes. John resists the urge to shove a balloon of fucking cocaine into his stomach, the same thing he’s been doing with these pigs, brutalize him more if that’s even possible, but he knows it wouldn’t help his already worsening mentality.

The thought of someone seeing this body and thinking about how fucked up the person who did this doesn’t concern him as much as it should. 

Instead, John turns his heels and walks away from the scene. 

*

Unsurprisingly, getting her to depend on John isn’t the hardest task to do.

It just might be the easiest.

The moment John arrives at the Continental, he takes his time to message his bambi. It’s only reasonable, he wouldn’t come out as a clingy creep since it’s been a full day since his last message, he has every right to know what and how she’s doing despite already getting enough pictures and updates from Alex.

He asks her how she’s been, waits for approximately ten minutes before he finally gets a reply. In those ten minutes, John takes his time scrolling through the pictures Alex had sent him. Pictures of her bundled up in large, colorful sweaters and wearing a frown on her pretty face. She looks rough, but she makes looking rough look good.

Bambi : hi, john :(( sorry i didn’t text you all day. was busy with something 

John : That’s alright, I understand. I’m just glad you replied. Did something come up? Was it about school?

Bambi : kind of. my friend from school is missing and we don’t know where he is. we’re worried because he hasn’t answered any of our calls for a week and his apartment is practically empty.

Reading that almost makes him resist an urge to sickly smile to himself. His fingers hover the screen, careful of what his next words might be. 

John : I’m sorry to hear that. Have you gotten any updates from the police? What did they say?

Bambi : nothing yet unfortunately. no one saw him the night he went missing :( 

John : I’m sure you’ll find him soon enough. I hope nothing extremely bad happened to your friend.

He sounds… manipulating. There aren’t any more words that could describe what John is doing to her. He doesn’t even know if he can still make up excuses to tell himself that everything is completely fine and normal.

The girl that he likes is currently sharing about the horrifying tragedy her ‘friend’ is facing, the horrifying tragedy being John’s fault, and he’s fucking lying about it. And what truly terrifies him the most is not about the fact that he’s manipulating her, he’s terrified because it feels normal and just… fine.

Normal, normal, normal–

Can John really win her over by going this path? If not, would it really matter?

He will still have the upper hand if this doesn’t end well. But then again, there’s a very small chance that it wouldn’t – if not none at all. John just needs to play his cards well and there wouldn’t be a problem. 

Bambi : thank you john. really hope that too. it doesn’t feel the same without him

John’s jaw ticks.

What do you mean it doesn’t feel the same without that fucker? I killed him for you! He was a creep who only wanted to fuck you and take you away from me and–

A dangerous feeling suddenly surge into his veins that he wants to put back together all the pieces of that fucker just to destroy it in his hands once again.

Maybe mutilating him and dissolving him in pure acid just isn’t enough. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe John should’ve took his fucking time torturing that little shit instead of killing him instantly.

John : And how are you? I hope you’re not too worried about this matter that you start to forget about taking care of yourself.

Bambi : i’m doing fine, but a bit sad bc of it. i also miss you and i wish u’re here so i wouldn’t be too sad

And just like that, it’s like all his resentment and rage just one minute prior vanished in a snap of a finger. A small smile makes its way to his face and a surge of ego soars into his chest. She has no idea she’s got a dangerous assassin wrapped around her finger and the consequences it’d bring her.

Bambi : are u still overseas? when will you be back?

John : Tomorrow, hopefully.

John : And I miss you too, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I finish work.

Bambi : can’t wait to see you. do u want me to pick u up at the airport? :D

John : Thank you, baby, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to keep you busy when you already have too much in your hands.

Bambi : mkay. but call me or text me when u arrive, ok?

John : Of course.

*

John is not stupid.

If he ever noticed a man following his every step, he didn’t once care or say a word.

It’s one of Winston’s men, obviously, following him around throughout his business in Russia up to boarding the same plane as him back to New York. Considering John had managed to catch on pretty quickly at the fact that Winston sent someone to trail him, this poor guy is not doing a particularly good job.

At first, John thought about taking care of the guy himself and bringing Winston a souvenir of his dog’s fingers or even one of his eyeballs, but decided that he is not that cruel.

He could be, but knowing he holds all the power over several people under The Table makes John wants to play the game a little longer and just fucking shiver in excitement.

Obviously Winston had noticed that John is up to no good. Not that it’s any of his business, he’s more likely just scared for his own life. He’s probably thinking it was a bad idea to bring John back into the game now that he’s living up to the horrors of his reputation and giving people exactly what they wanted.

When John first returned to the field, it was only to avenge his late wife and nothing more. But now that a bigger monster has grown within him over the course of his stay, he’s now also looking for the fuel to his fire.

And boy did he find it.

The fuel being in the form of a young woman who’s unaware of how much power she has over John. It’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. 

*

10:56 PM.

“Hello.”

“Hello? John?”

“It’s me, darling. How are you?”

“Doing fine. Studying for my exam and all. Why are you calling at this hour, though?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I just arrived back in New York and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, John, it’s so late. I was thinking earlier that you would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, you didn’t tell me you boarded a flight.”

“I wanted to be back as soon as possible and wanted to surprise you, but my flight got delayed so I only just arrived now.”

A soft laugh rings in his ear.

“You’re so cheeky. We can just meet up tomorrow if you’d like, go on a picnic at a park or something. I really, really wanna meet your dog.”

John hears a sigh, then the sound of paper rustling in the background. He counts – one, two, three – here it comes.

“I miss you, John.”

He pushes the curtain aside with two fingers, peering his eyes in the small opening as he watches the figure at the other side of the building. She’s sitting on her study desk in front of a laptop, freshly showered and wearing specs that John can’t help his heart to ache.

It’s been so long.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away.”

“That’s very sweet. I hope you brought souvenirs for me, though, or otherwise I will be very sad.”

“How can I forget? I bought everything that reminded me of you when I was there.”

“Now you’re just spoiling me.” Another laugh, then John sees her getting up from the chair and laying on the bed. “I’m happy that I’d get to see you again tomorrow, John. Everything that’s been happening is just so… I don’t know. Stressful, I guess. From my friend missing and school work, I don’t even know where to start. I just wanna be with you again.”

The mention of her friend Jay ticks him the wrong way, but he can’t also help but notice the longing and desperation laced in her voice as she said the last part. John knows it wouldn’t be too hard for her to be dependent on him, he just didn’t expect it to be this easy. They’ve only met once in real life, but their constant texting and calling through the phone makes it up for it. 

“Don’t let yourself worry too much on matters that don’t concern you.”

Silence, then John watches her bite her nail anxiously. “What do you mean by that, John?”

He doesn’t particularly like the way his name just rolls off her tongue like that – like she’s his age, the same way Helen used to call him. He doesn’t want to be reminded of Helen when he’s with his little bambi, it just makes him feel even shittier with the situation. It sorta reminds John how much he truly changed when he lost Helen.

“Don’t worry about your friend too much. I know it’s hard that he’s missing, but don’t put him first before your own well being,” John advises, manipulation just dripping off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He doubts she would notice, though. “I’m sure the police got it covered by now. I’m more worried about you.”

John could still see her expression through the window despite being far away. She’s thinking about it, letting herself get swayed by his lies and persuasion. She’s too easy, she just doesn’t know it herself, but John does. And he’s going to take advantage of it as much as he can. 

He counts again – one, two, three – and she’s dropping her hand to the bed and sighing softly. There she is.

“Okay. You’re probably right, I worry too much.”

John doesn’t reply but gives a silent hum that indicates he’s agreeing. He sees her taking off her glasses and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly the itch in his hands is back.

There’s a voice nagging at the back of his head and asking him just what the fuck is he doing, that he should stop this madness before it gets out of hand, but would that really make a difference? Even if John did stop, he’d still continue to live with the fact that he was a monster who stalked a young woman out of sheer obsession. He’d already got her dependent on him, he’d already laid out the plan on how this would turn out, why is he suddenly questioning now?

He had done stuff that was worse than manipulating. He didn’t feel a single drop of empathy when he was slaughtering people and shooting them in the head, but why does he feel guilty manipulating her?

“John? Did you already fall asleep on me?”

Soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, then it’s followed by a soft giggle. John feels butterflies exploding in his stomach. 

“Sorry. I was just–”

“It’s okay, John, you can sleep. You’ve probably had a long day since you’ve been on a flight and everything. I’m going to sleep now too, we have a date tomorrow, remember? Don’t forget.” The faux strictness in her voice makes him smile, then he sees her smiling just as big through the window; giddy and excited. “Goodnight, John. It’s really nice talking to you again. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up first, smiling to herself before putting the phone back to her nightstand. She settles on the bed comfortably, tucking herself into her blanket, unaware of the fact that there’s a monster lurking on the other building, watching her every move like a hawk.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the old mirror on the dusty wall, dressed in black and predatory, reminiscent of the devil himself. 

Might as well live up to the name.

*

John is aware of how dead he looks in people’s eyes. He barely smiles, he’s always dressed in black, and he always has trouble showing emotions through his face. He makes sure that he gives off that aura that shows how much he dislikes everyone in the fucking room. How much he just wants to pull out his gun and shoot every single one of them in the head.

John despises the way they look at him. Like they pity him for losing his wife, for getting dragged back to the life he had already left. Though, he can’t really blame them, really. He used to pity himself too, even now for letting himself get even worse, but he wouldn’t really call it pity. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not pity.

The next day is interesting, to say the least.

He couldn’t get a minute of sleep the night before, the image of her sleeping so peacefully without a worry in the world bored into his mind. It’s extremely fascinating to him just how careless and… dumb she is. Dumb in a way that it’s benifiting John – the both of them, actually – and not in an offensive kind of way.

It was around two in the morning when he returned back to the hotel, managed to sleep for an hour or two before ripping off the blankets and had a drink the first thing in the morning. John didn’t bother taking a nap after that, just walking around the room making sure all is well and everything will be according to plan.

At 8 AM, she texted John a good morning and said it would be better for their date to be at 4 PM. John then replied that it was perfect, though he doubts he can wait that long.

12 PM, for a man as calm and collected as John, he sure as hell can’t fucking sit still in one place.

He’s paranoid. No amount of texts from his bambi is enough to keep him calm. The time is ticking too slowly for his liking and he has no other things to do in his free time. Except be paranoid.

John grabs his coat, kisses his dog goodbye and decides to stop by a grocery store to prepare for their date. He should at least make them both a sandwich and buy drinks, knowing that the little gesture would be enough to put a smile on her face.

1 PM, John comes back with shit ton of paper bags in his arms. He’s doing too much, he knows it, but too much is still better than not enough.

John goes to the kitchen to prepare. The orphanage taught him how to cook – well, not really. John taught himself how to cook, because if he’s not going to cook for himself and half of the kids back in Ruska, they’d all be dead with no survival instincts to save them from starvation. Being an assassin who could withstand any form of torture all while not knowing how to cook would be the greatest joke of the century. John’s not the one to be laughed out.

2 PM, everything is settled and in place, his little bambi texts him to let him know that she’s getting ready and cannot wait for their date. John then takes his time to get ready too.

3 PM, John is dressed in a nice white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket on top. He looks civilised, no one would know a damn thing that he’s one of the most feared men in the underworld who slaughters people for a living.

His dog is quiet in the corner, chewing on her bone toy until John puts a collar and leash around her neck. Her eyes perks up in excitement, already knowing they would go outside to play. John always takes his time making sure she gets to socialize with other dogs, whether it’s in a park or just down the street.

“You’re excited, baby?” John murmurs, petting her ears softly as he kneels down to her position. “You’re gonna meet someone special. Want you to be nice to her, alright? She’s gonna be your mom.”

John hauls everything into his car in a matter of minutes. The picnic basket, the blanket, his gifts for his little one that he got from Russia, also including his dog. She’s behaved yet excited as she peeks in the mirror watching her owner work.

He slides into the driver’s seat and locks his seatbelt, starting up the car and driving away from the hotel. Earlier, John had seen a couple of his co-workers loading up his trunk dressed like he’s going on a date – because he is – no doubt they’re snitching and would tell Winston. He couldn’t care less.

He arrives outside her apartment after thirty minutes, parking his car right by the entrance. He can’t help but grimace as he looks around the place. He remembers meeting her here, the day after he killed that good-for-nothing junkie. He wonders if she ever got the news, how she reacted when someone got killed the same day John was visiting her area.

It won’t be long before she wouldn’t be living in this area no more. It’s too dangerous, filled with a bunch of goons who get themselves tangled up in petty gang wars. John knows a gangster when he sees one, and it looks like every single man who lives in these crowded apartments are either pushers or gangsters with no sense of direction in life.

She doesn’t belong here. She should be in John’s house, locked up and isolated where she’s safe under his supervision. He would treat her like a princess, give her the things she deserve.

John gets out of the car, pulls out his phone and sends her a message to let her know he’s outside her building. He leans against the car as he waits.

A minute passes and a very happy bambi appears in the elevator, dressed in a pretty sundress and a white tote bag with a text John can’t see. She’s beaming up at him as she exits the building, and John hasn’t got the time to react before she’s lunging herself forward and going on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Whoa easy,” John murmurs, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist for support, placing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent; it’s sweet, not a surprise. “You miss me that much?”

“So much, you don’t even wanna know,” she murmurs in his chest, not quite reaching his neck despite being on her tiptoes. “I hope you miss me just as much.”

John pulls away, gives her a look as he places her large hands on her hips. “I might’ve missed you more than you missed me.”

She giggles, John could see her eyes through the heart-shaped sunglasses she’s wearing. It’s cute. “That’s not possible, I will fight you for it.”

“Hm,” John hums, eyes wandering down her lips to her dress. It stops just above her knees, John has to mentally prepare himself for the worst. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “You like it? I think it’s the perfect picnic outfit.”

“I love it,” John clarifies. “Looks perfect on you.”

“You look gorgeous yourself,” she giggles, eyeing John up and down teasingly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He isn’t so sure how to react to that, hopefully his dick wouldn’t take the liberty to rise from the dead at this moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen you not wearing any suits. Domestic looks good on you.”

“What can I say, I’m a changed man.” John means both good and bad. “And before we go, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Before she gets a chance to ask, John slides out of the way from his position of covering the car window and reveals a very happy pitbull waiting to be introduced to her mother.

Her smile is wide when she spots John’s pet excitedly wagging her tail inside the car. “Oh my god, she is beautiful! John, open the door, hurry, hurry, hurry–”

“Okay, okay–”

The moment John pulls the door open, the dog comes rushing out to jump and starts licking her face.

“Oh, lookie here, baby! You’re such a cutie! What’s your name, hm? Don’t got a name yet? Your dad can’t think of a name to give ya’?” 

Her giggles are like music to his ears.

The sound of paws pattering on the concrete and her high pitched voice talking to the dog fills the empty street in a matter of seconds. When she isn’t looking, John begins looking around the area, his eyes landing on the apartment building where he preys at some nights. 

There’s a person at the front desk, staring at him like he knows something, and like a switch that goes off in his brain, John recognizes this man as the same one who bumped into him a few nights ago in the hallway in front of the abandoned room where he’s staying.

They meet eyes, John flashes him a knowing look, then the man immediately looks away.

John’s jaw ticks. He’s gonna have to deal with that later.

He turns his attention back to where it’s most needed. She’s still playing with the dog, crouching beside the car while the puppy just drowns in her affection. John really hates to break the moment.

“Shall we get going?” He interjects, voice deeper than usual, still feeling a little on the edge from that man by the front desk earlier.

“Sure. She gonna be in the backseat?”

“You bet.”

John opens the door for the both of them and lets her help the puppy get inside. Before he slams the door close, he makes sure to take another look at the apartment, seeing the man already staring back at him.

Yeah. He’s really gonna have to deal with that later.

*

They arrive at the park around 4:25 and John is the one to set up their spot while she and the puppy play in the empty field. It’s empty, totally empty, and John couldn’t be more thankful than that since he really doesn’t want to be around other people besides her. She’s the only one that matters.

John notices that she brought her own dog toys, probably the ones she keeps to herself since she does work in a vet clinic after all. The sight of her happily running around the grass with his dog is enough to bring him to his knees, he is only but a man.

John calls her to eat and the two of them come running towards him and plops down on the soft blanket next to the basket full of fruits.

“Had fun?” John speaks, sitting beside her on the ground as he watches her get a plate of pasta for the two of them. She insists she gets to plate their food, John lets her.

“Very. Didn’t know she’s quite energetic, luckily for her I can match her energy extremely well.”

“It comes with being young, I guess. Can’t really relate,” he jokes, receiving the plate full of pasta she gives him while she snickers at the statement.

“Come on, John. You’re still fit despite being old.” John watches her take a bite of the food. He’s not subtle, he’s straight up staring at her lips as she wraps her mouth around the fork, savoring the flavor with closed eyes. “Hm, this is delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“By myself,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food to keep him from taking a bite of her instead. “I’m surprised you aren’t creeped out.”

“With what?”

“With my age,” John makes it clear. “You’re young with a bright future ahead of you–”

“Yet here I am having a date with an old man?” she interjects, wiggles her eyebrows, teasing clearly with the way she emphasizes the last part. “I can’t believe you thought I’m gonna get creeped out. You’re a grown man with a stable job and not to mention very hot, I find that very sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he raises a brow.

“Yes, I think you’re very sexy. I haven’t once encountered a guy my age who has the same status as you,” she sets down the plate on her lap for a moment. “You know, experienced and mature.”

“I see,” John nods. It’s very clear that she’s always found the people who contrast her so well attractive. She wants a savior that would save her from everything, luckily John fits in the description quite too well. 

They delve in a normal conversation after that. John makes sure to steer away all questions regarding him and his life, a way to learn more about her other than the pictures and videos and information he’d been sent by Alex.

John already knows a lot about her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more.

Ten minutes go by, a bottle of wine has been pulled out of the basket and she’s spilling her whole life to John in a matter of moments. From lttle memories from childhood to how she moved from her hometown to New York to get away from her father. How when she was younger, she begged her toys to talk to her and she wouldn’t tell anyone. How their family pet back in the days impacted the choices she made to choose her career path – to become a veterinarian.

John listens. He’s always been good at listening instead of talking, so he listens. 

5 PM, the two of them play with the dog and she decides to name her “Blue.”

“Is it because she has blue eyes?” John asks.

“Yeah. Not really original, I know, but it fits her.”

“Blue is perfect.”

It’s already 6 PM when they decide to head home. She’s still talking the moment they’re in the car and John is still listening. There’s something about her voice that just… pulls him in. It’s so sweet and soft.

When they arrive outside her apartment complex, it’s dead silent. 

“I really enjoyed our date today, John,” she smiles when he opens the door for her, now standing in front of him and looking up to meet his eyes. “The pasta was delicious. I hope I get to eat more of them in the future – and oh, I really, really enjoyed playing with Blue! I’m so thankful that you let me name her even though it wasn’t really special–”

“Hush,” John jokingly interrupts. “The night might be over, but I can assure you that I will see you soon again.”

“How soon would that be again?”

“Eager to see me already?”

“Maybe.”

“You know I always make time for you, sweetheart,” John croons, placing a large hand on her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Is it too early for me to kiss you?”

She laughs, then wraps her arms around his waist to pull him in closer. John looks at her and falls in love for what to be a millionth time today. She never fails to take his breath away. “Not too early, I promise you. You should’ve done that sooner.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it now.”

Before she can add another word, John leans down to smash his lips against hers, his large hand finding its way on the small of her back to deepen the kiss that she can’t help but whimper into his mouth.

Fuck.

Her lips are so, so soft. John can still taste the lingering sweetness of the wine from earlier and being so close to her that her scent is shutting off his entire brain. If he won’t stop, he might just end up fucking her on the hood of his car until she can’t walk straight.

Their lips move in tandem and she’s following his head like she always does. Her small hands are gripping his leather jacket for support, so pliant and vulnerable, already trusting him enough to kiss him on their second date. 

This is a sudden shift in his universe, John knows he’s already won.

He’s the first to pull away and their lips are wet and connected with saliva. She’s flushed and out of breath like expected, John wants nothing more but to break her and make her his.

Oh wait, she already is.

“How was that?” John asks, voice deep.

“I wanna do it again.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb on her cheeks while she’s busy avoiding his eyes. “Let’s save it for next time.”

He’s gonna control himself.

“That next time better come by fast,” she threatens jokingly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Don’t talk like you’re not gonna see me for days, baby,” John whispers. “You know I won’t let you go that easily. You’re mine now.”

He doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilated and the way the clutch she has on his leather jackets becomes tighter. She’s already fallen deep into his trap, John wants to push his claws in even deeper.

“Say it again,” she mutters, leaning in against his warm large hand as she closes her eyes. “Say it again. Please.”

John smiles when she isn’t looking. He really won.

“You’re mine.”

*

That same night, 4 AM, John is back in his work clothes and arranging something in a dark room.

The stench of metallic blood hitting his nose, and he stands in the middle of the room to inhale that scent – god, does he truly miss it.

The sight of a man in front of him wakes something dangerous within John’s veins. Hands tied up behind the chair, head dropped forward, lifeless and cold. His lower stomach is open, guts hanging off the floor as the other half is used to gag him in the mouth. His eyes are missing, John took the liberty to take them out for staring at him too much, and he couldn’t be any more relieved when he did.

“What do you know?” John had asked as soon as the man woke up from his head concussion.

“Y-You!” The man had yelled, John didn’t bother finding out his name. “You fucking creep –”

John’s hands twitched beside him. He remained silent.

The man went on a rant about how he’d seen John around lurking outside the apartment complex and using the abandoned room on the fifth floor and that’s all John needed to know.

He didn’t need another pair of eyes to tell him what’s right and wrong. Winston is already enough.

The next morning, John receives a text from none other than his bambi. A picture of numerous police cars outside her apartment and an ambulance, and another picture of a dead body covered in white blanket getting pulled out of the building.

Bambi : there was an accident that happened near me, john :(( 

Bambi : the police said somebody was killed and i’m scared

Bambi : they said he was gutted alive 

John is smiling to himself when he types his response.

John : What kind of a sick person would do something like that?

He is not a sick person. He’s just in love.

Taglist: aerangi starrgir1 heluvsvalefr danika1994 fraisejoon doggodorime ohmytate

[fandomnerd9602]

Fate Intervenes

Akira x Wick!Reader

For @morbiusmarauder

The Osaka Continental was under siege. You and your father John Wick, in one of the rare instances, were in the same place at the same time. You were just hoping for a moment of peace with your father but of course, there's no peace with being a Wick.

You and John separated during the fight. You stayed with Akira and Shimazu. You shared little looks of concern with Akira as Shimazu hobbled along.

You exchanged fire with a couple more thugs from the High Table. Akira pulled along her father, "Father we must go"

Shimazu, a man who had been like family to you, clutched his side and shown red on his palm. Akira's eyes locked with yours, pleading.

"We'll get you out of here, sir" you promised as you began the trek down the back way of the Continental.

"Where did he go?" the blind assassin asks the three of you as he blocks the way.

"Caine" you huff, "Shimazu's wounded. Let us pass"

"I can't do that" Caine answers back, "do you know the price of family?"

"They threaten your daughter?" You ask. Akira looks to you and then to Caine in shock.

"Yes." Caine remarks, tapping his sword on the ground. "The one good thing in my life."

"Such is life" you huff. Shizamu takes a stand and readies his sword.

"Let the young ones pass" the older man begs his former friend. "I only speak as a father to another father"

"Please don't do this" Caine's mouth shows a deep frown, one that's bathed in regret as he readies his own sword.

"Sir" you approach Shizamu, "please we'll find another-"

"Protect your family...and mine" Shizamu looks to you, begging you to guide Akira to safety. A little more blood leaks from his wound.

"I am" you answer back before raising your side arm and shooting Caine in the neck. A small dart hits him a split second later.

"They can't hold that against your daughter, Caine." you smirk.

"Be seeing you" Caine smiles as he collapses to the asphalt.

'Be seeing you" you answer back as you grab ahold of Shizamu and limp past the knocked out Caine.

"You keep tranquilizer darts on you?" Akira looks at you concerned.

"Figured they send Caine after my Dad," you admit, "always be prepared for little to no collateral damage"

You load Shizamu into a jeep, Akira jumps in the passenger seat, "I owe you"

"You owe me nothing." you state as you speed out of the Continental. "Gotta get your father some place safe."

"Not that I am not grateful, young Wick" Shizamu winces from the pain, "but that was not exactly honorable."

"I don't think the Marquis de Gramont cares about honor, sir" you answer back as you hold up one of his goon's pins.

"High Table?" Akira readies her own gun

"Some french stooge trying to make a name for himself within the ranks of it." you retort.

"Your father will need your aid." Shizamu speaks up, "both of you" he gestures to you and Akira.

"What do you say, ma'am?" you smile at Akira, "truce?"

"Truce" she smiles back. A small smile made it's way across Shizamu's face.

You'd eventually get Shizamu to the medical attention that he needed. As for you and Akira, the two of you set out to locate Jonathan Wick. The Baba Yaga was going to need all the help he could get.

[arece]

Reader dies instead of John fucking load on the angst

Remember Me

♤ Summary: What if you died instead?

♤ a/n: THIS ISN'T CANNON!!! A what if that I personally think is even more painful than the original. I find it concerning how I find angst so much easier to write. This is a long one (2.2k) The masterlist

♤ Warnings: ANGST! John Wick violence, death.

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

“Please, stop this.”

“I can’t.”

***

You begged him, followed him, did everything you could to try and stop him from doing this but it didn’t matter. Forever stubborn, a trait you no doubt got from him. Many mannerisms you had came from John. From the glower you do unconsciously to your dry humor.

But that all didn’t matter, not anymore. John had a plan, one where he might not make it out alive but the Marquis would go down with him, one where you’d be free in a way he was never able to attain. This was for you, he’d do anything for you.

“Fire!” He shoots just as Caine does. They both miss. He hears your whimper from beside Winston and it takes everything in him not to flinch back from the sound. He can feel the blood dripping down from the graze on his arm, a patch of red blooming from his white shirt. 

The Harbinger calls them back twenty paces. He takes a breath, a quick glance to see the almost agonizing worry painted on your face. For you. “Fire!” It felt much faster this time, it was. It had to be realistic, like they were planning to kill each other.

The growing pain in his left shoulder knocks him back a step but otherwise he doesn’t react. Caine grunts, slightly hunched over and holding at his side. Painful yet not fatal, they took another ten paces and it was time.

“Those who cling to death, live.” A bittersweet truth he clung to until there was you. Caine gives a barely visible nod, “Those who cling to life, die.”

“Fire!”

The shot to his stomach winds him to the point he falls to his knees. It won’t kill him, a few inches upwards and would have, he wouldn’t reveal that just yet. You cry out and Winston nearly has to hold you back. He has to close his eyes, tempted to tell you he was fine but he can’t show his hand. He wasn’t done yet, he had to win.

“¡Alto!” Vincent eagerly calls out. I claim the last shot.” He grabs a bullet before storming up to Caine with a sick sort of glee. “Your weapon, give it to me,” he demands, holding his hand out. “Is my daughter free now?” He carefully asks.

Caine’s part of the deal is fulfilled, he and his daughter were now free like you’d both soon be. “Oui. You and your daughter, enjoy.” He rips the gun from Caine and quickly reloads it. “You lose,” he confidently calls out before being cut off by Winston’s mocking laugh.

“You arrogant asshole. He didn’t shoot.” Vincent snaps over to John but it’s already too late. “Consequences,” he spitefully said before shooting him straight in the head. It was all over, he finally ended it all.

You’d be safe, he could be with you, that is if you forgave him for leaving you behind. He was aware it was his fault, that it was something he should’ve never done, but at the time he felt it was the only thing he could do to keep you safe. After two years, he finally got you back.

“John,” a soft whimper behind him. He looks up to see you holding your stomach, a few inches upwards. The Marquis’ gun went off, hitting you as collateral. You nearly fell back until Winston grabbed ahold of you.

Caine stepped back, The Harbinger leaving, it was not the time to finalize the terms. “No.” John feels nearly hysterical as he clumsily makes his way to you, dragging you from Winston into his arms. It felt like he wasn’t even there, this wasn’t real.

He pushes down on your wound, desperate for it to go away. You cry out from the pain, “I know, I know. I got you, kid.” Winston has to turn away, tearing up at the sight of just how fragile you looked.

John felt himself growing frantic, nearly losing himself already at the idea of losing you. He tries to gather you into his arms, just like that time you were sick. Just like that time, you’d be fine. He was overreacting, the Doctor would tell him it’s something minor. It won’t be like his Helen.

But you stop him, crying quietly now as you hold tightly to his hand on your stomach, “you’re free now?” You ask in an uncharacteristically small voice that has him nearly sobbing. “Yeah,” he brushes your hair back just like every time he’s done before.

It was foolish, you know, but you just wanted him to comfort you one last time, “you’re not going anywhere?” John slightly chokes, pulling you closer, as if holding you to him and refusing to let you go would keep you here. “You and me, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I missed you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you cuddled into him like you did whenever you had a nightmare. It was almost enough to convince John that’s what this was, you were just sleeping. But the lack of your chest rising and the soothing sound of your breaths had him finally breaking down.

No matter how hard he tried to do right by you he failed, every time. He did all of this to save you, left you for two years to protect you, reunited with you, only for you to die. You had begged him to stop, gave him so many opportunities to put down his gun and just live for you and he refused. His never ending need for revenge killed you, he killed you.

The background was a blur, he couldn’t hear anything, focused on solely rocking you back and forth, pushing your hair back every time it fell into your face. He ignored the blood he smeared on your face as he brought your head closer - your blood - and kissed your head softly.

You. His daughter, his kid, his baby. He missed you too, there was never a moment he didn’t, even now he missed you more than anything. Winston tried to step closed and he held out your knife threateningly. He didn't care, no one got near you right now except for him.

“Johnathan,” He calls out softly, red rimmed eyes of his own. “The first time I saw her in two years and she’s already gone.” He didn’t bother looking up, trailing a finger over your cheek that was already growing cold.

“I missed so much and it’s my own fault,” he glances up at Winston, “I’ll never get that time back.” He gathered you close and stood, he was going to bring you home and you were never going to leave again.

He nods for his jacket and Winston drapes it over you, covering your fatal wound just like he wanted. You were sleeping. It hit him suddenly that he never told you he loved you and it was almost enough to send him back to the ground.

He should’ve just done what you had asked, whatever you wanted. He held you securely with Winston by his side, both ready to bring you back. 

***

(y/n) Wick

Loving daughter

“You and me, kid.”

Something you’d probably scoff at but it felt right. Dog refused to move from your grave and John had half the mind to stay with her. Even the Bowery King had shed a few tears, having to leave soon after due to not being able to handle the emotions.

“Always said he was dramatic,” he could almost swear he heard you say. You were next to Helen, a little family he wanted to join. He didn’t know what to do without you, lost in a way he’s never been before.

Losing a child is a pain you never get over, a gaping hole that never fills. He was angry but had no one left to blame, no enemies to kill. For once, John was forced to sit and deal with his grief and god if it wasn’t the most painful thing he’s ever felt.

He carried so much guilt and regret for what happened between you, so many mistakes he’d never be able to go back and fix. Winston’s reassurance of how much you had loved him didn’t help.

You admired and loved a monster, both John Wick and the Baba Yaga. It had gotten you killed. Everything John Wick loves dies. You were doomed from the moment he accepted that coin, the moment he placed his jacket over you in that car and decided he would do anything for you.

He felt that he cried out everything he had left, numb besides the anger he held towards himself. This was his own doing. Eventually he forced himself and Dog to go to your apartment, the place you lived when John forced you out of your home.

It felt empty - lonely. It was enough to break his heart all over again, he drove you to this. He collected the few photos of yourself in the apartment, his own only of your younger years. He couldn’t stand the thought of the last image he had of you being older was dying in his arms.

 As he brushed over your belongings he came across a small box. He opened it to see a bunch of folded up papers held down by a gold coin. A gold coin he recognized, the coin that led him to you, to your death. He picked it up and was tempted to throw it away before pocketing it. He’d keep any part of you he could get, even if it reminded him of his mistakes.

He picked up one of the folded papers; a letter dated back to a few days after he left you. 

John,

I don’t think I could ever forgive you. I trusted you. 

I never believed that I could belong anywhere, everyone seemed to leave eventually.

I knew that day would come with you, I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

He swallowed, skimming through the letters, varying emotions of resentment, hurt, and confusion in each. It was painful, but one John wholeheartedly deserved. He may have been what you wanted but he wasn’t what you deserved, you deserved more.

He reached the last letter in the pile, it was written just a week before you hunted him down, a week and a few days before you died.

John,

I think I get it now. Though it doesn’t make it hurt less, I at least know now that you did care. You wanted me to be safe but what you seemed to never understand is that I felt safest with you.

All I wanted was you. I’ll always carry that hurt for the potential what could’ve been but I can cherish the time we did have together, when I had someone who cared for me so deeply.

I hunted down the Continental Doctor to trade for that coin you gave him - something to remember you by - and he gave it to me for free. I think he understood.

Everyone seemed to do that better than us. We always struggled to actually talk to each other, resorting to desperate actions. Maybe that’s what led us here today.

I hope you find that peace and freedom you always longed for, the kind you couldn’t get with me. That’s part of the reason I think we would’ve never worked, all I brought was chaos and pain, something you never needed more of, what you were trying to escape. For that I’m sorry.

Now, I’ll try to fix our mistakes, learn from them and speak openly. I don’t know if I’ll ever be brave enough to send these to you but if you do find them I hope you know that I love you. 

I love you and thank you for being the dad I never got. Even if it was for a short time.

Love,

Your daughter.

John fell down onto your chair, crying so hard he couldn’t make out the words on the letter. He held it away from him, scared he’d stain it with his tears.

You got to heal but for the wrong reasons, without his apology and the full knowledge of his love for you. You were right, you both struggled with words and he should’ve tried harder. You always struggled feeling like you belonged and he didn’t do enough to reassure you.

He wished he could’ve told you just how much he cared for you, how much he loves you. How he’s sorry.

***

Although no matter what happened next it would never be fully happy; but if John were able to heal the slightest bit, accept, and move on, it would’ve been better. Though that’s never how John worked. He solely relied on his anger, looking for someone to blame, looking for a fight. Something he knew how to do.

He chose to direct his anger towards the entire High Table, to wipe them all out. Winston tried to fight him on this, convince him that it wouldn’t be what you wanted. But you weren’t here and you were gone because of the High Table and him. Either way they’d both go down for taking you away.

A suicide mission. But what else was there left to live for? He lost all that brought meaning to his life, he killed it, watched as it slipped through his fingers, helpless to stop it all. Helen, and now you.

He didn’t believe in much anymore but he hoped, hoped that when he did finally get to rest, it’d be with you.

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @tamnight  @hesvoid34 @scarletmeii @romanreignsluver1 @wi1steria @not-a-big-slay @howlerwolfmax @mizzy-pop @sarapaprikas-blog @angrykitsune01