#vampire! john wick

[boredth]

I don't know if I'm gonna see you again

[ruskaroma]

If John is eating reader out on her period then he must enjoy fucking her in it as well, and raw. But what if reader doesn’t know what John does for a living and wonders why it turns him on so much to have period sex?

She’ll notice how intensely he watches his cock disappear into her sensitive pussy, and how he moans at the sight of his cock coming out coated with reader’s blood. And coming inside her? She wonders how such a messy and gross act can awaken something primal in the sophisticated man.

With all the blood that John has shed, there’s something so satisfying about fucking clueless reader when she’s on her period. He’s not hurting her (and would never), matter of fact he’s pleasuring her! It’s such a contrast between both acts and John is glad to experience the latter with reader.

you are onto something and i’m here for it.

listen. listen.

john wick has a MASSIVE (cock) corruption kink. i repeat, john wick has a MASSIVE (cock) corruption kink.

it turns him on so much how unaware you are of his job. you don’t know just how much bodies he disposes on a daily basis and how dangerous he could be, yet you still stay with him because you don’t know. john gets off on your naivety.

when he’s fucking you on your period, it’s pure heaven. it’s filthy, but god does it feel so good. especially for john, who’s always enjoying the sight of his cock sinking in your bloody cunt.

and you’re extra sensitive when you’re on your period !! you turn into a crybaby. just one touch from him and you’d already be tearing up and just beg for him to start fucking you already.

“i remember how much you hated period sex at first,” he’d tease, biting at your neck as he plows his large cock deeper inside your pussy, hitting the deepest parts of your insides you could feel it in your stomach. “you said it’s too messy, but you don’t have to worry about such things, baby. i like it messy.”

“y-you’re so weird,” you whimper, holding on to his shoulders as your legs shake from pleasure. “y-you get turned on with my blood. a-are you a v-vampire?”

“maybe,” john smirks, nipping your neck. “would you still take my cock if i am?”

“m-maybe.”

[noelhelena]

Finally, it's done 🫠

[a-zimt]

Just posting my drawings again to keep them here.

[moon-my-beloved]

my first wip wednesday (oh em geee ><)

Wicked Game (some fluff and a dash of angst if you squint)

“What?” You blurt out, spoon stopping mid-bite as you look up at the woman like she just grew a second head.

Laswell winces at your response, anticipating your reaction before she even told you. “Just think about it first before you give me an answer,” she lazily states, taking a bite out of her food before continuing. “You need to get out of this cave. Explore the world as much as I hate to phrase it like that.” She says. Tone softening as she takes in your tense state. The woman knew that she was the only person (human) you had ever interacted with after being in the dark for so long. You’ve reminded her countless times how you preferred the solitude of your home and withdrew yourself from socializing despite getting a job at the town's library. You never let yourself go too far. It was an unknown rule you had set for yourself and even though you never mentioned it to her, she could see it.

She and her wife could only come visit you a few times a year regardless if you insisted that “there was no need”, Laswell saw the look in your eyes every time she had to bid her goodbyes. That aching, longing, and shameful look. You never let yourself go too far. It’s for the best.

She was ready to brush off the idea under the rug and never speak of it again before she was cut off by the sound of your voice.

“Fine.” You finally say, staring at her with unsureness. Eyes flicking down to the plate in front of you before clearing your throat and meeting her gaze once again. “I will accept your ‘gracious’ offer under one condition,” You added, crossing your arms over your chest with a calm expression. “You owe me some of Rachel’s fudge brownies.” Tone grave that it could probably be mistaken as a threat to someone else, but Kate wasn’t just someone else.

Head tilting forward, she tried to hide her smile before facing you.

“Alright.”

Laswell’s chest filled with warmness at seeing your small smile. She hoped the boys treat you nicely when you arrive. She knows they will.

[97keanu]

Premise: Vampire!John Wick has caught your scent, and now there's nothing that will stop him from obtaining what he craves. You on the other hand, are enjoying a night on the town dressed as an angel for Halloween. You don't realize what a mistake you've made walking into a real vampire's path.

Tags/CW: DARK FIC, Vampire!JW, Being hunted, pred/prey, innocent!reader, angel coded!reader, bimbo!reader, dumb!reader, blood drinking, regular alcohol drinking, john is an evil vampire, dub-con, dead dove don't eat, hypnotism/hypnotized!reader, reader has a secret kidnapping!kink, reader has secret dark desires, knife kink in the form of claws, biting, teasing teasing teasing !!!, mind reading, reader who is a secret slut, reader who wants to be sacrificed, major character death mentions/teased, blood doll!reader, readers fate undetermined.

A/N: I've always had a thing for vampires. In this fic, I explore some of my favorite naughty kinks, and give you an extremely long and kinky sex scene between John and reader. Hope y'all like it, be sure to heed the content warnings ʚ♥︎ɞ

He has hunted your scent for miles. That sweet, delicious blood of yours calling to him in even the faintest amount. You poor, pretty little thing, that doesn't even know she's being hunted. You laugh with friends after dark, walking in groups for safety as you enjoy the Halloween festivities. You have no idea that it doesn't matter where you go tonight. That John has already decided your blood will be his, and so it shall be. You look so dolled up too, in your tiny miniskirt and frilly, barely-there white top. On your back, two perfect, tiny fake angel wings float along your figure, a costume halo atop your head. You look pristine, and John can only imagine what all that white will look like when he's done with you. It's as if you decided to serve yourself up on a silver platter for him, unknowingly.

As you walk about the city in wobbly, chunky platforms, you giggle into the night air with friends, the mist of your breath pooling in the sky above you. You don't notice in the sea of people that is New York, that you're being stalked. You don't see the man, moving silently from building to dark alleyway, inhaling your scent as deep as he can. You don't see the fangs, that glint under street lamps as he passes. They've grown so long from desire he can hardly keep them hidden behind his lips. Luckily for John, costumed Halloween goers flood the streets. A perfect time for a creature of the night like him to be so bold in public. Tonight, he will go unnoticed.

You however go into the next club on your bar hopping adventure without a care in the world. You don't see the dark figure slipping in behind you at a speed you can't even comprehend. You walk with an air of innocence and wide-eyed wonder. You gawk at spooky displays and laugh at slasher costumes as you walk by. You know that underneath that scary mask is just some greasy twenty-something who would love to get you in bed. As if.

The lights and music blare, and you are pulled by your friends to the dance floor. You're already feeling the heat of the cocktails you've had tonight in your body, and when you move to the rhythmic music, you feel your legs wobble along lazily. Your friends pass you another drink, you don't know from where, and you consume it happily. It's sweet, bitter aftertaste goes down easily, and you enjoy your night of being young and free.

A few men try to dance with you, but when you size them up, they're so not your type. They're just too young for you, even if they are likely the same age as you. You've always loved a more mature man, someone bigger and wiser than you who can really put you in your place. Half of you fantasizes about a man like that taking you from this hedonist pit of a club, pulling you into his car and driving away. You imagine he would take you back to his house just to tie you up and keep you kidnapped there against your will. The idea has always turned you on, but none of the men in this club tonight could ever give you something like that. You continue to dance with your friends, ignoring any drunkards who try to make a pass at you with an up turned nose.

The night continues on, and more drinks find their way into your hands. You happily take them, not caring how beyond drunk you are. As you're dancing, you slowly realize how seperated you are from your friends. You glance around, looking for them in the crowd, but see no one. Instead you feel the hair on the back of your neck raise. You feel as if you're the one being watched.

When you finally find the pair of eyes on you, you see the face of a handsome, older man in the crowd. You're surprised to see a man like him in a crowd like this. He seems so suave, so opulent, and through your drunken eyes, he also seems expensive, if not rich. You saunter over, slowly dancing through the crowd, until you're close enough to the staring stranger to see how intense his eyes really are. For a moment, fear washes over you, but you shake your head, deciding yourself silly for being afraid.

John can hardly hide his delight that he has caught you, his pretty little prey angel. He hears your thoughts about a man like him taking you away, tying you up, and using you like the hole you are. John has to laugh under his breath. You could never guess how true that sentiment really is. John can imagine doing more than just tying you up, though.

He watches as you walk right over to him, he can sense the fear rising up in you. You have every right to be afraid, but you still come, like the fly to the spider. You know it, in your heart, that John is a predator. Your own senses tell you, but like the silly human you are, you ignore them. Human's have lost all superstitions for creatures like John, it almost makes it too easy to trick you into letting him in.

John pulls you in when you get close enough, he has to hide how sharp his nails are, be gentle with your fragile body, but he still senses how rough he's pulled you in. In your drunkeness, you assume you've just tripped into him.

John feels your warm, tiny body against his, and you move like a siren, obviously not as angelic as you seem. Your body ungulates on his, rubbing your backside straight into John's cock. To your surprise, he's already hard, and you blush thinking it was so easy to do such a thing to him. You don't know that it's not just your body that's turning him on. No, it's what he's imagining doing to you after he's had his fun toying with you like this. It's that sweet blood that pumps in your veins so temptingly.

He let's his hands move up your body, caressing every curve, feeling your hips and gripping them into himself, imagining how he would take you later on. His hands continue up, pressing and playing with your breasts, and for a moment, you reach up for his hands, startled by how forward this strange man is being in public. He relents, his hands moving up to caress that pretty neck of yours. In your intoxicated state, you continue to allow him to play with you.

What you don't notice is John has slowly pulled you from the crowd, isolating you from the rest of the humans having a fun Halloween weekend. You don't even realize it until John is starting to move you through a back door of the club, the night air suddenly chilling you and ruffling the feathers of your wings. You turn to face him, and he smiles so sweetly. As he smiles you notice the sharpness of his teeth, and your mind tries to explain it away as a costume, but they look so real, and so sharp. Your instincts once again tell you to run, but with the way he's looking at you, you feel a pull to him you can't explain.

It's as if everything in your brain is telling you how dangerous this man is, but your body can't get enough of him. Even being so close now, his husky, earthy scent, similar to pine trees and steel, draws you in. You feel your body tingling where he touches you on your waist and back, his finger tips freezing. He reminds you of winter itself, cold and unmoving. But you are moving aren't you? When you notice your surroundings outside his intense, dark eyes, you see you've been drawn to a dark corner of the alleyway.

You look about and notice how quiet it is, how it's as if everyone else has been banished from the area, not even the rustle of wind is making a sound. No, the only sound right now you hear is of your increasingly alarmed breath. You look back to the strange man to see he has bent you backwards, your wings now barely brushing the dirty alley, your hair swept from your neck.

Suddenly, in the moonlight, those glinting fangs don't seem so fake. In fact, they seem so real you're shaking from it. Your rabbit heart thumps relentlessly, and suddenly adrenaline floods your body. You move to run, to jump out of his grip like a frightened doe, but his hands hold you like steel.

"Who--?" You begin to say, trying to muster a scream for help that doesn't come.

"My sweet angel," John speaks for the first time to you tonight, and your entire body goes cold. "You will be so delicious..."

John doesn't care to hide it anymore, the fear has overcome all else inside you, and you know that he is dangerous.

John takes his hands to your throat, turning your head so that he may look into your eyes. You look into them, those two dark orbs, and you feel that fear wash over you again as you realize how red they are getting. You must be imagining things, it must be the lack of light, but no, you're sure of it. This mans eyes are truly, deeply, darkly red. And just when you had mustered enough sense to want to run away, he's hypnotized you. His vampiric powers of manipulation wash over your mind, over your body. You feel a false sense of calm, and your mind tries to scream for your body to run, but you can't. You're stuck there, transfixed and mouth agape, your body wanting John more than anything.

Now that he has you in such a vulnerable state, he simply picks you up, carrying you bridal style to a spot he's already picked out. He takes you to a nearby apartment, abandoned and high up enough no one will hear you scream. He has outfitted the bedroom here as the perfect vampire nest. The windows are boarded from all light, the room is adorned with candles, and he's even brought in some tools to use on you. He will take his time with you, that much was certain. You want to struggle as he sets you down on the bed, but your body doesn't move. You look up at him like a lamb to the slaughter, waiting for him to break your pretty little neck.

"Hands." He says roughly, and before you can think to deny him, you're lifting your hands I front of you, doe eyes looking at him so pitifully full of tears that won't fall.

He ties your hands skillfully together, tight and inescapable. Then he ties your hands to the bedframe above you, and you look up from there, asking for some miracle to save you.

"There will be no miracles tonight. Not for you, angel." You glance at him, wondering how he read your mind. He laughs when he sees the confusion in your eyes, his fangs yellowed by the candle light.

"Don't worry, my sweet. Being able to experience all that you have in that pretty head of yours is just half the fun..." John pets your hair before he begins to undress you.

When it's time to focus on your clothes, he has an easy answer for that. He runs his claw along your body, so sharp that even the slightest bit of pressure would surely slit your delicate skin. You can feel the hypnotism waning, but suspect that he has done this on purpose.

"Yes... I have." John answers your thought. "Now, let's hear those lovely moans of yours."

You try to scream, and it comes out as a soft murmur, something akin to being strangled. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, and gasp as you feel John apply just enough pressure to slice through your mini skirt. He plucks it off of you the way one might pluck a petal from a flower. You watch as he tosses it away, feeling the cold air on your almost nude bottom half.

He works his way back up your body, still allowing his claws to glide against your baby soft skin. He reaches your top, and snaps the straps easily, pulling the top off to reveal your breasts to him. Despite everything, you can't help how easily wet your cunt is getting.

"You may try to deny me," John says, again pulling your feelings straight from your head. "But I know you've always wanted this. That's what drew me to your blood. You have the blood of someone who knows they're prey."

"N-no..." You attempt to say, but the words barely find their way out.

"Don't lie, I can see those dark thoughts at the back of your head. How you used to touch yourself to the thought of being kidnapped. How you wished someone would tie you up, just like this. Even just tonight, you thought of this. Don't start being a brat for me now, angel. Show me how badly you've wanted this." The last sentence is a command you must follow, and when John's hands have reached up to your glossy mouth, you have no choice but to open.

You feel him place two fingers so deeply inside your mouth, your pussy trembles at the thought that he might cut you there. It's as if he's placed a knife in your mouth, so gentle, but so deadly. You close your warm mouth around his cool fingers, sucking lightly. The thoughts you've had about scenarios like this before flash in your mind, no doubt John's influence.

While he keeps you pacified, he runs his free hand down your exposed body, taking care to hold your breast, feeling your beating heart behind it. The smell of your fear and pleasure mixing in your blood has John beyond hard, he doesn't know how much longer he can contain himself before biting or fucking you. He holds back his throbbing fangs, for now.

You watch helplessly as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving his body down yours, until his head is lined up with your soaking cunt.

"I can smell how badly you've wanted this from here..." John teases, and you bite your lip, embarrassed of how your body betrays you.

John plays with your white, lacy panties, pulling them so taut that your pussy lips get caught around them. You moan despite yourself as John plays with your panties just so, your engorged clit getting some wanted attention.

"You're so human...denying yourself the ultimate pleasure you've been seeking, I would never dream of such a thing." John muses as you writhe against your restraints, even this slightest touch driving you mad. You think of kicking John away, but your legs just won't work for you. He has you perfectly spread for him, tied up like a present, and unable to resist.

"I'm sure all your fantasies consist of killing young, helpless women. I'm not sure that counts." Your voice whispers in a chiding tone, and by the look of John's dark eyes on you, you wish you'd held your tongue.

John pulls your panties so hard against your tender clit you let out a small scream. He moves his face to meet yours, speaking directly to you as you lay there fearful, mouth open to silent screams.

"Yes, angel. I do kill young, helpless girls. Let's see if you can be a good girl tonight and change my mind." He watches the fear pool in your eyes, breathing in the scent of it with a smirk.

You try to hold his eye contact, try to be the brave girl who fights her attacker. But that's just not you. That's never been you. You've always been soft, easily guided this way or that. You've never been particularly smart, or witty. You've gotten by on your beauty alone for so long, that you made yourself think you were more powerful than you were. Really, you're just a lost little lamb, looking to be herded, but finding the wolf instead.

John can see that, hear that in your thoughts, and he reaches up, cups your face in his hand, and pulls your eyes back to his.

"I think if you expand your mind a bit, little lamb, you may even really enjoy being drained to death..." The way his cold eyes fill with excitement at this statement makes your stomach flop. It takes everything in you to pull your chin away from his hand.

He let's you, pulling back down to your glistening cunt. John pulls your panties up and places a sharp claw under it, the soft side of his claw brushing against your clit. In one fell swoop, he cuts away your panties.

You squirm and try to make your legs close, your whining coming out between sharp breaths as you try to fight this power over you. He slowly brings his face to your quivering cunt, looking up at you with those dangerous onyx eyes.

"The sooner you realize you've always been meant to be someone's plaything, the sooner you'll find yourself loving this..." He whispers, prodding more of those sick fantasies to flash in your head.

John let's his fangs flash in the light before letting his tongue taste you. His tongue is surprisingly cool, making you recoil, but with more movement, you hate that your hips try to buck into his mouth. He's teasing your clit every so carefully, moving perfectly to keep you on edge. Your entire body floods with pleasure that you try to keep at bay.

"You know you want more...ask me..." His voice breathes against your pussy, leaving chills to run up your spin.

You hate how right he is. You want this, you want this man, no, this monster to fuck you senseless. You can't believe how sensitive you're getting even at the idea that he kills you, that you become nothing but a meal for such a powerful creature. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears as you try to ignore him down there, try to will your body not to be so sensitive to his touch, to his tongue lapping at your cunt ever so gently. You should be fighting him, screaming for your life, scheming at least for how to get yourself out of this, how to save your own life.

But when you look into his dark eyes, you know it's no use. Any plan you could come up with, he would hear. Any escape, if you somehow got out of your restraints, was futile. He was stronger, faster than you in every respect. All you could do was lay here, shuddering against the monster that's tempting you to let them make you cum. What were you supposed to do? What would the smart, cunning, witty girl do?

"P-please..." Your voice summons, and John's ears perk up at the sound.

"Please what? What changed your mind?" He looks at you curiously.

"Please...make me cum. I've..." You take a deep breath and hold it as John gives a longer lick. "I've never been the smart one, or the one who was going anywhere big in life. I'm only useful as a hole to fuck. Please fuck me and make my pitiful existence mean something."

"And if I kill you?" John teases your pussy by lightly gliding his claws across it, the feeling similar to that of a cool blade being used.

"Then I would be happy to be of use to you..." You can't believe you've said this, but you can feel John pulling the words from you with his eyes.

You close your eyes after the last word, unable to look into John's eyes any longer. After a moment, when you hear nothing, you peek at him. He looks at you like a cat presented with a shiny new toy. His interest in you is piqued more than even before.

"Maybe you will be more than a temporary plaything..." John raised his eyebrows with a hint of laughter, the sentiment didn't help much to relieve you of your fear.

Seeing you so willing to admit how much a girl like you was meant to be nothing more than fuck meat and a meal made John's cock struggle against his pants. He has grown tired of smart girls who try to escape, it always ended the same anyways. Now you, you who can admit that they are prey, that was much more interesting. The way you sacrifice yourself to him made John feel like a king, no, a God.

He could feel himself throbbing with want, wanting to take you here and now, but he was a man of his word. He would make you cum first.

He returns to your cunt, served up for him perfectly, and begins to devour you much more than before. He licks with purpose, using his tongue to give you so much attention your eyes almost roll back from the intensity. What surprises you more, leaves you gasping is when he sucks your clit into his mouth, his teeth ever so gently applying pressure and new sensitivity. You quiver and your legs seem to not be your own, muscles tensing and squirming under John's touch. You feel John's hand hold your thigh down in place, his claws knicking your skin just slightly. The pain mixed with the pleasure John gives begins to send you over the edge. When you see the small droplets of blood begin to leak from your thigh, you cum for him, moaning into the night air.

As you settle down, your heart rapidly getting away from you, your eyes lazily open and watching John, you see him move his mouth to your thigh, lapping up the blood that's been spilt there.

John licks the wounds, and the close up, but tasting your delicious blood has him unable to hold back anymore. He needs more of it. Now.

John sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, his fangs almost melting into your dainty skin. You cry out, and John bites deeper, his cock leaking from the sound of your despair, his mind reeling from how good you taste. Soon, he pulls his teeth back, sucking deeply of the blood that gushes into his mouth. As he begins to drink from you, an unimaginable wave of pleasure crashes over you.

You can barely contain yourself, your voice not your own, your moans of anguish and want, heedy and full of need. You've never felt such pleasure, not even from how well John made you cum moments before. You greedily relish in it as John drinks deeper, a free hand lifting to pet your sweet cunt, driving you mad with sensation. You feel yourself begin to cum again. Then again. And again as John continues to consume your precious blood.

John can feel your heart slowing, can sense your life force leaving you as he consumes your warmth. He has to force himself to stop, his muscles tightening and attempting to keep his jaw locked on your thigh. You're so high on pleasure you hardly notice how close to dying you really are right now. You feel yourself slipping away, as if falling into darkness and greeting it happily. Maybe he was right, maybe dying this way wasn't so bad...

John pulls his fangs from your thigh with great strength. He laps carefully at the two pinprick wounds, and watches as they slowly close, as if nothing at all had happened. You can barely hold your head up, your breath slow. You lay languidly, lolling about when John moves to get near your face.

He softly pets the side of your face and your eyes flutter open, looking up into his eyes the way Ophelia may have looked at the sky before succumbing to death. You watch, unable to process what's happening, as John slits open his own wrist, letting the blood there drop into your open mouth. The taste is sweet, bitter, and smoky, just like him. You swallow with great effort and John watches as your paleness slowly starts to perk up.

"You're going to be an interesting blood doll indeed..." He whispers as he pets your hair gently. "Now rest..." He commands and your world goes dark.

Taglist: @sunnythebunny7 @smutmaniac @worldsgreatestsinner

[feinv]

eeehehehe do you think you could write a short drabble or headcannons for being vampire! john wick’s virgin sacrifice (or fellow vampire girlfriend). i adore the idea of him playing with his food iykwim !

love and bloody kisses - 🦇anon

vampire!john wick x virgin!reader.

alright hear me out. imagine like in that world vampires need a sacrifice. they need to turn another human being into a vampire to become more powerful, more superior than their peers. but of course, there is a catch, it’s not that simple. they can’t just choose a random person. it needs to be someone who they love and are loved by, it needs to be someone who is willing to be turned AND a virgin. (i know too many boxes to check but that’s the deal stfu)

anyway. john wick was one lucky motherfucker cuz he hit a jackpot with you. obviously he wasn’t purposely searching for you, because true love isn’t something you can force or fake. so when he realized what exactly was happening, all his feelings towards you and his primal instincts just intensified. tenfolds.

he loved you dearly, and so he was patient. he gave you as much time you needed to open up, to trust him completely. he proved himself worthy of you countless of times, showing you that he is more than happy to spend the eternity worshipping your existence and giving you anything you would ever ask for, stars and moon be damned.

and of course, you loved him like you never loved anyone before, and his stupid attractiveness wasn’t helping either. so you were like ;) why not??

he often told you how exactly the so-called sacrifice would be, to prepare you mentally. you noticed his burgundy irises turning almost black at the mention of the immense power it would bring him, especially with you by his side forever, and you would crave it, just as much as he did.

yet, most importantly, the hunger in his eyes would be animalistic. deranged, when he thought of all the sinful things he would finally be able to do to you after the ritual. marking you as his in every way possible.

[googoobabajogwick]

The monsterfucker in me is begging for some Vampire John Wick.

Vampire John Wick smut

Summary: you and John get stuck on a boat and he needs your help.

Word count: 1.4k

18+

The waves hit the boat causing it to rock back and forth. The cabin was starting to get dark as the sun began to set. It had been three days since you got stuck on the boat due to annoying circumstances. Always because of John.

John had a lot of enemies so even a trip out on a rented boat ended up becoming a hit. Four men shot at the engine and then came on your boat. Thankfully he was able to quickly dispose of them. Two fell overboard and two were in the fridge.

After getting hit John needed to heal so he drank all the blood of the one. See he was a vampire and to heal he needed more blood. When you first found out you were terrified. Vampire? Those were from books and movies, not the real world. But then everything started to make sense.

The way John wouldn’t go out during the day, never ate and was weirdly strong. He seemed to never age in the photos he showed you and hated garlic. That last one was almost a dealbreaker for you. Alas you stayed with him and had never felt more safe.

It took awhile but he was the same man you trusted for years. You knew he’d protect you. The safety you felt was like never before. Even with the constant date disturbances. John was able to keep you from harm while also fighting the bad guys. Plus it didn’t help how sexy he looked when he’d fight them.

John’s perfect form and excellent skills caused you to be horny while scared a lot of the time. This time the men were vampire hunters so they were able to hurt him in way’s regular people couldn’t. Your man was bleeding a lot when you dragged one of the freshly slaughtered men in front of him.

“Drink.” You had said, knowing it would help him heal.

John ordered you out of the cabin as he didn’t like you to see him.

That was two days ago. John had told you the bodies weren’t fresh anymore, the blood wasn’t as good. To him it was like eating spoiled food but he had to eat something so he did. Now he was sick and it broke your heart.

The shades were shut because there was still a little bit of sun out and John was under a blanket on the bed. You had wrapped him up to keep him warm but he still shivered. Never before had you seen him so weak. It scared you. You were hoping someone would find you guys soon.

“I told you not to drive the boat out that far.” You scolded him lightly.

“Sorry.” He coughed, “I didn’t think this would happen.”

This made your blood boil a bit.

“This is always happening and now you’re sick. What can I do? I want to help you.” You asked him in a pleading tone.

A look you couldn’t describe popped on John’s face but then he scowled and looked away from you. He didn’t want to drink from you but he knew it would help him. In fact he’d be stronger immediately. It scared him though, as sometimes he could get carried away.

John didn't want to hurt you or worse accidentally kill you. The thought of tasting your blood sent shivers down his spine. Good and bad. The idea of drinking from you seemed exciting in a way. He could tell from the way you smelled your taste would be divine.

John sat up in the bed and grabbed your hand. He kissed every knuckle before flipping it over and kissing up your wrist. Before shoving his face into your close to kiss in between your breasts. You grabbed his head and held him against you. He breathed in deeply, inhaling your scent.

“Let me…” John couldn’t even say it.

But you could.

“You want to drink my blood?” You asked, rubbing his head against your chest.

John kissed your sternum before pulling you on top of him and pulled you down so he could kiss your neck. His cock was hard and you could feel it rubbing against you. Immediately you started grinding down, letting out sharp breaths of pleasure. He began nibbling slightly and you finally groaned out and pulled away.

“Do it while you fuck me, please?” You asked with a smirk.

Your bluntness turned John on even more as his hand went to rub your clit.

“Anything for you baby.” He said.

His fingers found your sensitive nub and circled his fingers around it. He let his hand explore and get all wet with your slick, before bringing his fingers up to his mouth and sucking. A deep, primal groan left him and straight away his fingers went back to your clit. Your taste always satisfied him and knowing he was going to taste you even more intimately was turning him on.

You moaned out at the sight and grinded your hips against his fingers. Wanting to reciprocate, you shoved your pointer and ring finger in your mouth while groaning. You made a show of swirling your tongue all along your fingers. His own digits started to sped up as your hand went back to stroke his cock. He was harder than he’d ever been.

The clitoral stimulation was overwhelming when he thought you were ready, he flipped you onto your hands and knees. John got behind you and bent his legs so he was kneeling. He curved his back so his chest was against your back and entered you. Your boyfriend started fucking you from behind. A moan came from your mouth as your hands went to grab the sheets.

The best part was you could be as loud as you wanted. You were in the middle of the sea. Nobody could hear you two. The loud sounds you were making were accompanied by the sound of skin slapping against skin. Moans and groans followed like a song being sung. It felt so good having him pump in and out of your pussy, you were sure to tell him that.

“Fuck John yes.” You cried out, almost ripping the sheets as his fingers rubbed your clit, fast.

As your pussy started tightening around John’s cock he knew you were close and wrapped his arms around your midsection and lifted you up so you were sitting on his lap, back pressed against his chest. Your hands went behind you and into his locks. The way he was massaging your clit and his cock driving into you, hitting a spot that had you seeing stars had you almost screaming for him.

“You like that baby?” John grunted out in your ear.

“Yes, fuck baby yes!” You cried out.

John knew you were about to come and revealed his fangs. You couldn’t help but whimper in delight when you turned around and saw them. He pulled your head down, licked your neck and sunk his teeth in. With one hand he held your head to the side and the other came to continue to rub your clit. You felt your whole body tensed up against him as you came.

Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as your whole body convulsed and John held you tight with his one arm. You weren’t going anywhere. Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. He kept thrusting and after a few more he came as well, sucking even harder into your neck with a whine. Everything felt loopy and your body felt like jelly.

When John felt like he had enough he released you but not before licking the two holes that were now in your neck. You felt fucking fantastic. The two of you were panting and you felt exhausted. He accidentally let go of you.

“That was great.” You gasped, “but I’m so tired now.”

And with that you fell onto the mattress, passed out. John couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling a bit bad. He cleaned you up, covered you with a blanket and snuggled up next to you. You were a bit colder than usual but he knew you’d warm right back up under the covers. He watched you almost the whole time, making sure you were okay and just in awe.

You were out cold for some time and during that John miraculously, somehow, got you two back to shore. Every time you asked him how he just shrugged his shoulders and smirked at you.

[johnwickb1tsch]

18 👀 I’m curious to see if there’s any scenes that didn’t make the cut in one of your fics?

Oh man, that's a good question Scoob! Usually I manage to jimmy things i write in SOMEWHERE, but this is the only scene I could think of in my scrap pile that I'm absolutely sure I'm going a different direction after banging my head on the table about it. This was fun but way too tame for what the story requires. It's from the Constantine x femVampire!Reader fic. Reader is feeling sorry for herself because Constantine is ghosting her AGAIN, when she meets a mysterious stranger... I know you can guess who it is. 🤣🤣

The Girl Next Door - Deleted Scene

You do your best not to think about John Constantine–and fail at it most of the time. You find that the blood of evil doers nourishes your body, but does not really satisfy. What you really crave, like the most filling meal, and the most delectable dessert, is a 6’1” drink of sardonic demon hunter.

You do wonder why. Things had seemed fine, when you parted ways just before dawn. He’d kissed you with a tenderness that tied up your heart, his big hand dwarfing the side of your face, holding you like you were something precious to him. 

The memory just twists the knife a little more to the left. 

You continue to feel that presence, that omnipresent seething energy, that sensation that you are being watched. But it never shows itself, so you do your best to be vigilant, and continue to go about your business. 

You are delighted one night when you find a bookstore/cafe open late. Shopping has become hit or miss, with your new nocturnal hours. You can order things, of course, but it’s certainly not the same. 

The old hippy at the register offers you a smile before going back to his dog eared copy of Invalids Home From Hot Climates. The place smells like coffee, and books, and you feel like you might have stumbled through the gates of your own personal little heaven. 

Aren’t you supposed to burst into flames or something?

Thinking that maybe catching up on your reading will help get you out of your funk, you start to wander the stacks, pulling titles that interest you. Classics you’ve always meant to read, but never really had the time. Sylvia Plath, D.H. Lawrence, Virginia Woolf and John Steinbeck, James Joyce, Octavia Butler, Margaret Atwood, Herman Melville, and Agatha Christie all pile up in your hands. 

On the highest shelf, Anais Nin catches your eye. You reach for it on tiptoe fruitlessly, balancing your stack of books in your other hand. It is way over your head. You could jump for it without spilling your bookish burden–but you know it would not look human to the few other people milling around the shelves and curled up in the comfy reading nooks. 

A long arm reaches over you, plucking out the book, and only then are you aware of a solid presence looming behind you. No one has managed to sneak up on you like this since the night of your undeath. Unnerved, you whirl, putting your back to the stacks. Only narrowly do you manage not to bare your fangs like a startled kitten in this public venue. 

You find a tall man dressed all in black standing very close to you, his arm still raised with the book dwarfed in his big hand. His angular face is accented by a short beard; longish raven hair brushes his collar. Dark eyes fix on you curiously; the weight of his gaze almost makes you squirm. “Saw you struggling,” he explains simply in a deep baritone, offering you the cloth-bound tome. 

You find you cannot look away from those bewitching dark eyes, almost as though you’ve been hypnotized. It’s more than the fact that he is panty-drenchingly handsome–there is something mesmerizing about him, and you’re not sure if his power is sinister or simply…profound.

Almost absently, you accept the book, adding it to your stack balanced in your hand. 

He looks at your copious selections with a smirk. “Someone’s been eating her wheaties.” 

You realize it probably does look odd, for a woman of your size to be toting around such a load one-handed. You make a show of clutching your stack to your front with both hands, feeling ridiculously shy as a school-girl, as though the barrier of old books might provide some protection from this stranger’s charm. 

 “Just…catching up on some reading.” 

He offers the slightest smile for that, not showing teeth, and you cannot tell if he is flirting with you, or sizing you up. There is something odd about his energy. Human, and yet…heavier. His aura is like a thundercloud, and you’re not sure if you are intrigued, or afraid. He’s just this side of being in your space, and a part of you wants to ask him to back up–a part of you really doesn’t.  

“Have some time on your hands?”

“Something like that.” 

He nods, and makes no indication that he intends to move, his attention fixed fully down upon you. 

He gets the honor of being the only man, aside from John Constantine, who has made you feel even a little nervous since you turned. You’re not sure you like him very much for it. 

“What did you find?” you ask, hoping to break the tension, pointing at a little green book in his other hand. It looks old, older than any of your selections. 

“Robinson Crusoe.” 

“Looks like it's seen better days,” you observe with a sad pout, sorry to see a book in disrepair. 

“I’m going to fix it,” he tells you, the first hint of warmth entering his expression. 

“Oh?”

“It’s a hobby of mine.”

Like this man couldn’t get any hotter. 

He smirks at you, like you said it aloud. 

For some stupid reason, you start to blush. 

“Can I…buy you a coffee?”

“Why?” you blurt, mortified the moment it leaves your mouth. 

His smirk widens to a smile, and he seems to struggle with himself, trying not to show his teeth. 

“Just thought you have a nice stack,” he answers utterly deadpan, and you are dumbfounded as those eyes that seemed like black holes moments before sparkle. 

“Um…thanks for the offer…” 

He takes a step closer, and then he is crowding you against the shelf, his broad body dwarfing yours. Something about his presence makes you forget that you’re a vampire, and you could rip out his spine with your bare hands if you wanted to. He makes you feel small, and a little vulnerable, and fuck you if you don’t kind of like it. 

“You don’t drink coffee?” he fishes, and you feel like the two of you are speaking in code, but only he has the key. 

“It’s not my favorite,” you admit, resisting the urge to tack on anymore. 

“What do you like to drink?”

As though on cue, the spiced scent of his cologne and his skin makes its way to your nostrils; and beneath that, what you are sure would be a heady taste of his lifeblood. If you didn’t know any better…you would think he was baiting you with vampire pheromones, or something. The wave of longing that hits you is intense, and you have to close your eyes and lean back from him. You take a deep breath–which does not help. You feel like you’re paralyzed, and when you open your eyes you find he is leaning over you with an arm on the shelf again, nearly nose to nose with you. 

You try twice for your voice, and it will only come as a whisper. “Please don’t.”

Don’t what, you don’t even know, but something is weighing on you and you feel like you can’t move.

You flinch as he reaches up to touch you, the tips of his fingers resting on your throat, just above your surprisingly pounding pulse. His eyes settle on your mouth, before rising to meet yours, and you are both hopeful and terrified this strange, captivating man is going to kiss you. 

He speaks, though it doesn’t really break the spell. 

“Be seeing you, vampling.”  

With wide eyes and utter shock you watch him stride away from you–and my god, what a glorious view. Long powerful legs, and an utterly biteable rear end. There is a pause in which you presume he pays for his book, before the bell over the door chimes, and he exits onto the street.

You stand where he left you for a good half hour, re-learning how to command your limbs, and maybe, your brain. 

[boredth]

Do I look civilized to you?

[rachandruin]

>superhuman killers all over the shop

>extremely powerful individuals and institutions hiding in plain sight

>very strict hierarchies and Byzantine alliances

>everyone dresses like a toff

>centuries-old cabals/families in uneasy accord yet permanently trying to one-up each other

>a world-spanning under-culture

>everyone's got a goddamn gimmick

>endless, endless lore and rules and etiquette

>supposed to be a secret but only an idiot could ignore all the bodies piling up everywhere

>techno clubs everywhere for some reason??

John Wick is just Vampire: the Masquerade without the vampires. In this essay I will

[noelhelena]

A lot of gracias to @boredth for the inspiration for the fanart of the vampire Wick 🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️

[a-zimt]

Vampire Wick for World Dracula Day (May 26)

(Just posting my drawings again to keep them here.)

[moon-my-beloved]

Dream a Little Dream of Me masterlist

A month. She had to wait a fucking month to recover despite her persistence to the chief of being just fine. Getting sent home was not how she wanted things to go. On the other hand, maybe Joseph was right, she probably needed a break. A time to relax and escape from the unruly reality of the world. It’ll be fine, right?

TW: mentions of death, and a bit of stalking but it’s harmless (i think) - xoxo

— September 18, 1996. Location: Minneapolis, MN

It will be an excruciating wait until Laswell can get back on her feet. Reluctantly, under her chief's command, Joseph insisted that she take this time to recover after returning scratched up, worn out, and not having any recollection of how she ended up in the middle of the woods when the helicopter arrived. The chief was more than desperate to give Kate a break.

Amnesia, they had said. Probably caused by the head injury she had sustained when she fell. At least that’s what the doctors at the medical wing kept telling her when she was asked various questions of what she could recall about the event. She had been running away from the attackers, grabbing everything she could before she was bolting into the woods, and after that– there was nothing. A painful ring in her ear could be heard every time she tried to hark back to what might have unfolded that fateful night. She came up blank with every try. It was torment, a hole of anguish making itself comfortable in her chest. A long list of paperwork, meetings, and more paperwork awaited her back at the agency upon her arrival, not even getting a chance to argue that there was no need for her to be on extended leave, that she was fine.

“You're a lucky woman, Laswell. A damn right good analytics as well,” The chief had told her back at the airport, "I need you to be in your best shape if I want you back on the field.”

She didn’t feel lucky at all. She escaped but at what cost? Although the people she worked with weren’t necessarily close to her, lives were taken away— families broken apart. There’s no time for grief, the mission comes first. It always does. She said nothing in return if the slight slump in her shoulders wasn't obvious enough. With that, the chief excused himself, lips pressed to a tight line just as he disappeared through the automatic doors.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she turned, suitcase in hand as she walked to catch her flight back to Minneapolis. It wasn’t a long flight from Virginia, her mind drifting away into a haze of thoughts she had been pondering about these last two days. She had fallen asleep midway through the flight and before she knew it, the plane had already landed. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes, she got up, grabbing her duffel bag from the storage bins. Dread filled her once she stepped out of the terminal building.

“Home sweet home.“ She sarcastically said to herself. It's anything but sweet.

It’s not like she hated coming back home. It worked as a good getaway from where she usually stayed back in D.C. No stacks of papers, no meetings, no missions, no calls to family members to break the news that their husbands, wives, daughters, or sons won’t be coming back home. A setting opposite to what she’s used to. It made Kate feel weird at times— out of place. Those were thoughts to dwell on for later on restless nights. In the meantime, she has to catch a damn taxi to get back to her old flat.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, the woman let out a groan, throwing her duffel bag carelessly on the wooden floor while rubbing the back of her neck. She was beyond exhausted. The painkillers she took on the way here must have kicked in earlier than she anticipated. The pain in her leg would come and go despite the gunshot wound only leaving her with a small scar besides the continuous ringing in her ear. It was odd the more she thought about it. Wounds like these don’t just heal in a week, especially if you are stuck in the middle of fuck-nowhere.

Shaking her head, Kate took a good look around her small apartment. It looked the same as how she left it months ago. A bit of dust here and there but it was nothing a good clean couldn't fix. She had taken some paperwork home regarding the mission and had looked through them a thousand times to find anything that could magically refresh her memory. It was useless. Fixing herself a cup of coffee she settled on the couch, spreading the documents on her almost too small table with furrowed eyebrows.

‘Why? Why couldn’t she remember?’

“Shit,” The sun had gone down by the time she stopped trying to get answers to her never-ending questions. Closing the folder rather angrily, she took the cup of coffee to throw down the drain. It had turned cold and left forgotten the second she sat down. She was fighting sleep at this point, dragging her body towards the bathroom and exiting it thirty minutes later with her skin feeling raw. Draping the towel over her neck, she made a beeline towards her room where she immediately let out a groan of content once her body hit the soft sheets. It felt nice as the woman ran her fingers through the fabric. She wasn’t sure if the antibiotics were the ones to lure her to sleep or the familiar scent coming off her blankets. She hasn’t washed them since the last time being here.

That night, Laswell dreamt of being in the woods again.

“How long are you going to be in town for?” Her mom said from the other side of the line.

She had been rudely woken up from the best sleep of her life to the sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand beside her. Her first thought was to ignore it but the damn thing kept beeping. Who the fuck would be calling her so early in the morning? Letting out a huff, Laswell sat up from the confines of her bed, snatching the flip phone off the counter to see who it was. Eyes bleary and unfocused as she scanned the contact name on the screen. ‘Mom’ it read. Squinting her eyes in confusion, she pressed the left button and brought the phone to her ear.

She regretted making that decision now that she’s been on the phone with her mom for more than an hour hearing her nagging and complaining about how she should visit them more often, that they missed her. She almost lost count of how many times she had to remind her mother that it was a difficult thing to do when you work for the government. She stuck to just apologizing if she didn’t want to hear her mother go on a whole debate about how she had ruined her life. She has no time for that, almost letting out a scoff at her empty words. They did not miss her.

“ –ello? Are you there?” The older woman's voice had pulled her back to reality, blinking down at the spoon swirling around the dark liquid as she brought the cup to her lips, the taste of caffeine overtaking her taste buds. “Yes, Mom, I heard you. Joseph gave me a month-long leave.” She announced. Shaking her head at the possibility that she might be stuck with her parent’s continuous pestering. ‘She is really the greatest daughter in the world.’

“Oh well, that’s just wonderful! Maybe you can come by some other day for dinner, it’ll be great.” Her mom said. The excitement in her tone was a bit too forced for Laswell to believe her. She knew that if she did come by for dinner, it would just end in an argument and pile up with the other times their meetings have ended in complete chaos. “Maybe.” She answered, a tense silence making itself known between them upon her monotone response to her mother’s suggestion to ‘bond’. It was awkward after that, her mom making up a half-assed excuse that she had to get ready to meet some of her friends before the call ended.

She won’t be attending dinner with her parents or calling each other anytime soon. Not that she ever did anyway.

Soon, the cold air from the mornings disappeared and the warmth of the afternoons rolled in. It was a cycle. A restless cycle that kept itching the back of Laswell’s brain as the days passed. She had looked over the papers every day, in hopes of catching something she had missed, a singular clue that would create a spark of remembrance in the crevices of her hippocampus. She came up with nothing.

The only abnormal thing she has gotten out of her little ‘scavenger hunt’ was a damn migraine and the same dream every night. She’s in the woods, the same one from that day, following a ceaseless path that seems to take her nowhere but her feet seem to have a mind of their own as if they have been here before, as if they knew all along where this nameless destination is. She wakes up in a cold sweat before she finds out.

She had initially shrugged it off as a result of her fall but the more she went outside to simply enjoy the breeze of the wind, the cheers and cries of children running around the local playground, a woman walking her dog, or even to just grab a bite from the coffee shop across the street, a feeling had poisoned her brain that someone has been following her, watching her. With every glance she took over her shoulder, there was no one, even though she had no doubt and was positive that she saw a questionable shadow from the corner of her eye. Had they come back to get her? Close the deal and seal it shut so she can just be another piece of paper among others?

She wasn’t so sure anymore. She felt like she was going insane the more time passed.

It was a rainy day when the ringing in her ear became too unbearable, palms over her ears in an attempt to make the pain go away and curled up against the cushions of her couch beside the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

She was fine a few hours ago. Woke up at the usual time, made herself breakfast (a cup of coffee), and planted herself on the couch to go over documents, emails, and continued to ignore her mother’s calls. It wasn’t on purpose. She just had her hands full, that’s all. She must have overestimated her capabilities of spending long periods of time in the same sitting-hunched position. Her age was getting to her.

She had taken her medicine already but by the looks of it, it didn’t seem to be working out for her. Letting out a low groan through her gritted teeth, she moved her head to the side to get a better view of the outside. It wasn’t necessarily pouring down, the repetitive noise of droplets hitting wood and trickling down glass soothed her discomfort for just a few seconds as she watched the cars pass by.

Tap, tap, tap.

It was getting dark, the moon creeping its way above the horizon, a good thing knowing that the brightness of the sun would just make the state she was already in, much worse. She doesn’t know how long she had stayed there. Maybe half an hour before she dozed off and had been woken up by that crawling feeling that someone was around. A presence. Sitting up a bit straighter, she peered through the window, rain still falling from the sky created a small mist in the air, but she saw it. She saw you.

An unknown gravitational force had made Laswell bolt up from her spot, not even caring to put on her shoes before she unlocked the door and sprinted outside. She didn’t know what had made her run through the rain so carelessly, the wet dirt and grass digging into her bare feet, just like that day. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead from exhaustion, just like that day. A sense of desperation and relief once she saw the only thing that had saved her from meeting her ultimate death. The trees, the manor, the sweet smell of your sheets, the tea, you. It was you, standing in front of her below the moonlight and the rain. It had been a constant battle these last few days trying to figure out what was true or not but at that moment, she knew. It had been you all along.

You said nothing, eyes peering at her with that same intensity as that night. If Laswell noticed your trembling hands, she didn’t mention it.

The ringing had finally stopped, a clump in her throat making her utter the only three words she could think of.

“I know you.”

A/N: the prologue has come to an end, woohoo!! >< you guys will be seeing a lot of the boys later on when i start working on incoming chapters! for now, please enjoy and again, any feedback is welcomed! 🍂

[97keanu]

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Halloweens just around the corner so here's some vampire!John Wick x slayer!Reader head cannons:

♰John's vampiric powers are not only what makes him such a deadly assassin. It's his cold demeanor and ruthlessness to hunt other creatures of the night if paid well enough. What also sets him apart is his appetite. Despite being a vampire, he is what you might call a picky eater. He doesn't typically have a bloodlust for most humans, which allows him to blend in as a wealthy member of their society. He doesn't drink directly from humans often, and often uses connections to get bagged blood at home, although the taste isn't extremely appealing.

♰Reader comes from a long line of slayers, it's in she's blood to kill what stalks the night, and you're really good at it too. In fact, some of your skills almost rival John's, which is surprising for a human. John definitely has interest in you for this reason from the moment you two meet. It's been a few centuries since he's had someone who excites him the way you do. What interests him more though, is that you, somehow, smell so delicious. He's never met a human so strong and with a scent that entices him so. He has to stop himself from hunting you.

♰Speaking of, you two meet by John being assigned to assassinate a local vampire big shot, and you are also assigned by your people to do the same. You both had no idea you would meet, and after you meet, it's a fight to the death. John struggles to control his hunger and his intrigue. You struggle to keep up with such a powerful vampire.

♰This continues until, of course, the vampire you both came to kill emerges and decides to try to take you out first. John is having none of that, if anyone is going to kill you, it's him. John quickly rescues you, and after deliberating the next steps, you both disappear in the night, feeling as if you've met a worthy adversary for the first time.

♰You both feel a strange longing connect for each other despite knowing you're on opposing sides here. John has no idea how he will navigate seeing you again, and at some point ends up keeping a watchful eye on you and your other slayer tasks.

♰John eventually has to step in between you and another one of the creatures you're trying to kill, and upon doing so, you two are met with the confusing situation of how to feel after. John just saved you, a vampire who obviously thirsts for your blood, and you should always be wanting to kill him, that's how you were raised. Something inside you won't do it however.

♰John is in a similar situation. How can he keep doing this? Keep tormenting himself with how badly he wants to drain you, but stopping because he's never met such a fiesty little human. He can't help but to want to keep you as his own, but he knows you're both on different sides here. That as much as some monster inside of him wants to kill you, some savior inside of you wants to kill him just as well, and from the worlds perspective, you would be the justified one.

♰You both must decide where the relationship goes from here.

[evrensadwrn]

frenchman toxic yaoi