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imajinxnation · 3 days
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my request is a fluffy John wick x reader tickle fight 👉🏽👈🏽\ _( #* u *#)\_
Who Knew??
John Wick x FEM!Reader
SUMMARY // You were just trying to be sweet.. but found something even better..
TW // Fluff, Suggestive, Cussing..
Omgggg this is so fukkin cute!!
ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST
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John had had a long day, and you knew the moment he got home that he wasn't in a particularily good mood, so you did what any other loving girlfriend would do; you decided to pamper him. Now, to clarify, the moment you suggested to John a day of relaxation for himself, he looked at you as if you were the most insane individual in the world.
To which you only responded with a roll of your eyes and a very annoyed glare back. He deserved a day off and to relax, whether he thought so or not, you would give him his relaxation anyways. After the life he had lead before you two got together, he deserved every bit of peace he could get, and if that meant oiling up your hands and rubbing his back for 30 minutes.. well, let's just say, you weren't complaining..
And this leads us to where you are now, your slick, oily hands rubbing his scarred and tattooed back as he lay on the couch, towels underneath him so the oil didn't stain the couch. Usually, John is a fairly quiet man, in both pain and pleasure, but this is what got a rise out of him.. Your hands kneading into his tense shoulders and back, rubbing out the painful knots in his muscles with your thumbs got him groaning and moaning like you had never heard before, which was making your panties wetter than the ocean..
At one point, you had accidentally grazed his side and he twitched away, tensing at the tickling sensation of your finger tips on his sensitive flesh. You stopped immediately, thinking something was wrong.
"Are you alright, Honey? Did that hurt?" You ask, concerned.
John sucks in a shakey breath at your question, wondering whether he should tell you the truth or not.
"..No.." he says simply, deciding to just leave it at that, not wanting to give you another advantage to him.
You raise a brow in suspicion and experimentally drag your oily fingers along his side, make him flinch away, a small, huffy laugh coming out through his nose. It clicks in your head at that moment; the infamous, deadly, pencil-stabbing, Baba Yaga.. is fucking ticklish.
You're glad that John can't see your face, because then he would be able to see the face of Satan smirking down at him, ready to attack him with your slick fingers.
John's eyebrows furrow as he realizes how long you've stopped, the silence making him uneasy. And he was right to be uneasy, because not two seconds later, your fingers were tickling and digging into his sides and ribs. For the first time in John's entire life, he yelps and laughs uncontrollably as you poke and prod at his flesh, teasingly, and mischieviously.
"Oh! (Y/n)- STOP! OH MY GO-D FUCKING STOP!" He exclaims between laughs, unable to remove you from him due to how weak he felt at the moment, and how hard he was laughing.
"Nuh-uh! Make me!" You giggle, tickling him harder, making him laugh even harder.
Eventually, he pulled himself from your grip, falling off the couch and onto the floor on his back, the oil covering his skin sticking to the floor. John calms down quickly, sitting up and glaring at you, a gleam of fire and mischief in his chocolate coloured eyes. Your eyes widen as you realize what he's about to do and you hop over the back of the towel covered couch, trying to run away from his incoming retaliation.
Obviously, you're no match for John Wick, because he catches you in no time, tackling you to the floor in the middle of your hallway, pulling up your shirt to reveal your own stomach and ribs. He digs his fingers into your soft flesh, tickling and squeezing your sides, stomach and ribs. You scream and squeal, trying to push him off with weak, jelly-like arms, squirming and laughing underneath him, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you laugh your head off.
"I-I'M SORRY! I SURRENDER, JOHN, I SURREN-DER!" You cry out, barely intelligable due to your laboured breaths and giggles, tears streaming down your face in jovial laughter.
John lets out the most genuine laugh you've ever heard from him and finally stops, but leans down to give you one last shock. He shakes his head and blows a raspberry on your stomach, making you squeal one last time. He climbs off of your body and sits on the hallway floor in front of you, letting you catch your breath for a few minutes before you sit up aswell.
"Wow.. why didn't you tell me?" You ask, out of breath and smiling hysterically.
"This.. this is exactly why I never said anything, you mischievious little she-devil!" John grins back teasingly.
"Oh God.. now I gotta mop the floor, we covered it in oil!" You laugh, majority of the oil on your hands now on the floor.
"Yeah.. You'll be doing that, seeing as this is your fault!" John laughs back.
You pout playfully, but smile immediately after.
"Alright.. understandable. By the way.. your laugh is adorable," you grin and get on your knees, leaning foreward to kiss him gently.
John chuckles breathily, kissing you back softly in pure bliss.
Who knew the Baba Yaga could have such a sweet laugh..
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y2kawaii · 15 hours
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The Grieving Husband And Lost Widow —Part One (John Wick X Fem Reader)
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Summary: John was a loving husband to his wife, Helen…that was, until she succumbed to a mysterious illness that has plagued their relationship for years before her being hospitalized for the final time. After saying his last goodbyes, John was about to leave the hospital until he ran into (Y/N) – who happened to also be grieving the loss of her spouse.
The last few months proved to be a challenge for (Y/N) with her husband being sick with a mysterious illness that the doctors haven't been able to find a cure to or even properly diagnose. So, on the last day of your husband's life, (Y/N) went to visit him in the hospital for one last time, just to hear his voice and hold his hand before he took that dreaded last breath.
"I love you, (Y/N)..." Your husband's breathing was incredibly shallow as it became more and more difficult for him to breathe normally as his soul steadily slipped away from (Y/N)'s reach.
"I love you, too..." (Y/N) stifled back the tears that were threatening to fall free from her eyes, not wanting to cry in front of your dying husband.
Then, just like that, (Y/N)'s husband took his final breath. His eyes closed, and his head turned ever so slowly onto the pillow that was underneath it as his hand slipped away from your own, signaling that he was now completely gone.
Overwhelmed by the grief of losing your husband, (Y/N) wiped your eyes and stormed out of the confined hospital room that your husband just passed away in. Now officially a widow, you could feel your heart instantly split into two; it was a pain that you couldn't describe, like your heart has been ripped out of your chest.
Now alone, without your lover, (Y/N) was blindly rushing through the hallway of the hospital with your head hanging down, allowing the long locks of your hair to fall in front of your face. However, (Y/N) would suddenly be stopped once she bumped straight into the muscular chest of a man who happened to be standing there, appearing to be lost in the trance of his own grief. Their impact would shortly be followed by a small clank that could be heard on the ground, only for (Y/N) to glance down and realize that what just fell was a necklace that the man must've been holding.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" (Y/N) exclaimed as you promptly bent down to pick up the piece of golden jewelry that the man was previously holding onto. Then after stretching your hand out to the man to return the necklace, (Y/N) would end up shifting her gaze up until it met his own.
"It's alright," the man responded. His voice was so deep yet also slightly gravely, which was something that made (Y/N)'s heart skip a beat in a way that it hasn't ever since you met your husband. Of course, you don't let those thoughts get to you in that very moment, knowing that you were already vulnerable to the emotions that were circulating through your mind. Then (Y/N) would notice the faint streaks of tears that were also visible on the man's cheeks, right underneath his eyes.
Caught off-guard by the sight, (Y/N) couldn't help but become concerned for the man whom she'd just bumped into. "Are you...okay?" You ask with hesitance, but there was also a trace of concern laced through your voice.
"Eh..." The man grumbled at first before protectively curling the necklace in his fist, "I will be." He eventually added with a shrug of his shoulders - it was as if he was trying to act nonchalant. His voice even started to sound more gloomy than it did before (if that was possible).
"I was...going to have a couple of drinks down at the bar." (Y/N) spoke up softly, swaying yourself slightly as the awkward tension increased between the two grieving souls. "If you want, I could buy you a drink."
At first, the man appeared hesitant at the idea. His head tilted from either side while his eyes were locked down onto the necklace that he held securely in his fist. Then, after what felt like an eternity that was really only a few seconds, he made a light nod of his head in agreement to (Y/N)'s offer.
"Yeah...yeah, I'd like that." He answered, his deep voice softening only slightly as his eyes locked directly onto yours. It was only then when (Y/N) noticed the dark brown shade of the tall and fairly muscular man, and they made your heart flutter in a way that it did from your husband.
Turning to leave the hospital, (Y/N) quickens your stride to stay beside the man. For some reason, (Y/N) began to feel a subtle smile forming across your face, but decided against making any mentions of it. Instead, you speak up the very question that has been on your mind since you first laid eyes on the man. "So...what's your name?" You ask as the man walked out of the hospital with (Y/N), the front doors opening for them as they went outside and began strolling down the sidewalk to the nearby bar.
"It's..." The man began, but then cleared his throat as the words got caught in him. After a beat, however, he took in a sharp breath while staying focused on the path that was ahead of them.
"John. John Wick."
(this is part one! depending on how this fanfic performs, there will be a few more parts to come for this fanfic! ♡ )
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movie-gifs · 2 years
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Rex voiced by Wallace Shawn TOY STORY (1995) dir. John Lasseter
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beansricejc · 2 months
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THE CLIENT - John Wick x F!Reader
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my masterlist.
synopsis: you go to some extreme measures to make sure you get your rent paid on time.
⚠️ warnings ⚠️: DUB/NON con, s3x work, cursing, sugar daddycore, implied violence, brief descriptions of violence, misleading job descriptions, good & bad name calling, chasing, financial / emotional manipulation, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! MINORS DNI! 4379 words.
author’s note: I am so sorry about not being active, I’ve been meaning to take this off of the back burner for some time now. If you follow me you probably have noticed that this is based off of a short blurb I uploaded a few months ago. I’ve been avoiding writing because of several anon hate messages I’ve gotten about Fake It, and it put a huge damper on my writing process. but I’m back and I hope you all enjoy!
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This economy is shit.
That's the sentence you continue to repeat in your brain. Should you have to work more than your full time accounting job at that stupidly high skyscraper downtown? Absolutely not, but your rent was bumped up by 15%, and a mere 40 hour work week won’t cut it anymore.
“Can you work nights?” The temp agent asks from across his desk. The florescent lights of his office (that is desperately in need of an update) are giving you a headache. The pot of coffee on the table in the corner is starting to burn.
“Yeah. Anytime after 6.” You quickly answer, your leg that’s crossed on top of the other is bouncing. The worker nods his head and clacks his vintage looking keyboard in front of his computer monitor.
The thick silence in this small space might kill you.
The worker’s eyes squint at his screen, before they trail back to you, seeming to give your face and your body a look over.
“Do you have any experience with housekeeping?” The worker asks, which makes your head tilt. Your printed and slightly crumpled resume is right there in front of him. Idiot.
“I mean, not houses, but when I worked retail I would have to clean the store from time to time.” You tell him and raise your eyebrows.
He nods and continues to stare at you. Creep.
“There’s an opening for a private housekeeper gig a bit north. You wouldn’t be tied to an agency, the client would pay you directly.” The man informs you. “Can, can I just do one thing first? Usually our employers, uh, they typically request pictures of their applicants.” The temp agent stammers and grabs his smartphone from his desk drawer. “Let me just…”
You don’t have any time to decline, since the flash is already going off in your direction.
“Uh- I’ve never heard of anything like that.” you question while the man types on his phone.
“Have you been employed through a temp agency before?”
“Well, not exact-“
“Then clearly you’re unfamiliar with how this works.” He interjects before setting the device down. “The pay is very good, although the employer hasn’t told me specifics. 3 nights a week after 6:30. 3 to 4 hour shifts. Does that work?” the worker asks and pushes up his glasses.
You feel a bit dumbfounded, and you have a strange suspicion that this man is gaslighting the hell out of you. But what can you do? You’re about to be 3 weeks late on rent.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You mumble out.
It wasn’t fine. You hate the fact that instead of being able to snuggle up with your dog and watch reruns of New Girl, you have to pick up a second job.
“Great. I’ll have him give you a call.” was the last thing the man told you before you left the building. Secretly, you hope whoever this ‘employer’ is, they just forget about contacting you.
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Hours later, you’re putting groceries into your fridge when your phone starts to vibrate in your pocket. You answer of course.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this, uh…” a deep male voice on the other line asks, accidentally mispronouncing your first name. Chuckling, you quickly correct him. “My mistake, forgive me. Ah, I heard you’re looking for a job?”
Your eyes bulge and you suddenly straighten up as if the man is having a face to face conversation with you. There was no way he was already calling you! Totally unprepared, you cleared your dry throat.
“Yeah, yep, that’s me.” you answer his question. His voice is so sultry. The man is clearly older than you, and it’s clear that he thinks before he speaks.
“Perfect. Pay is 1200 an hour, and if you swing by around 6:45 tomorrow that would be great. Can I email you my address?” The man offers online. You frown and choke on the water you were sipping.
“Woah, woah, excuse me. You said… 1200 an hour?” You repeat his payment offer.
“Yeah, is that a problem? All in cash.”
You almost have a heart attack.
“Nope, nope no problem at all.”
“Excellent. And, by the way, wear something, comfortable.” He says over the phone. You frown.
“Comfortable?” You question.
“Yeah. Comfortable.” He replies.
In hindsight you should have thought this through. You should have seen this coming, since men are disappointing and so vile. And you even know that you’re an idiot for agreeing.
So you do, and end the call.
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6:45 comes faster than you thought it would. Your finger presses the door bell, and as you look around the neighborhood he’s in, the only thing you can think of? This dude is in a completely different tax bracket than you.
As for the comfortable clothing, you opted for some leggings and a long sleeve tee shirt that accidentally accentuates your waist and chest. You didn’t think anything of it. Did you think $1200 an hour was a bit off? Totally. But the guy was probably desperate for someone to clean this enormous house up.
You’re completely wrong.
The large door creaks open, and you come to face a man, middle aged, with long dark hair that seems to be tied in the back. A man bun? Really. You don’t say anything about it. Instead you smile and give the classic:
“Hi! You had a cleaning scheduled for 6:45?”
The words are bubbly and of course higher pitched. Like any customer service job, you’ve trained yourself to fake a smile and a friendly voice.
His rugged features surprise you. The way his jaw clenched and unclenched, his dark beard that grows on his face. The way his thin brown eyes trace over your body as he pressed his lips together. As if you were on display, only for him.
You couldn’t deny that he was handsome. But you’re not here for that. You’re here to work.
Are you?
“Yeah, you’ll do.” The man nods and allows you to enter his domain.
What the fuck did that mean? You don’t allow him to see the way your eyebrows scrunch up at his remark.
His house that reeks of modern contemporary architecture, the bachelor pad vibes were insane in this place. Regardless, the home seemed almost empty, even though it wasn’t. The vast size of it makes it so every little noise is able to bounce off the walls.
“Do you want something to drink?” Your new boss asks. He looks down at you with little to no expression on his handsome features. Despite the lack of emotion, a tinge of determination lingers in his narrowed brown eyes. “Call me John, by the way. Mister Wick will make me feel like a senior citizen.”
You just laugh. He already knows your name. Of course he does, why didn’t you expect otherwise? That temp agency definitely gave it to him.
“John it is.” You test out the name on your tongue; the simplicity of it is so right for him.
But something doesn’t sit right with you. It’s as if your body is subconsciously ringing all of the woman alarms that you should listen to.
Oh but you could use the cash! It’s the uneasy pit in your gut that churns and twists, attempting to pry yourself out of the situation.
Of course you ignore it.
“Right. So. There’s this particular spot I need help cleaning.” John’s hand guided you by the small of your back, you didn’t even notice how close he was standing to you. As if John were nothing but a ghost in the wind.
He leads you right in the living room, where a large crimson stain has set itself into the oak flooring. Your eyes widen, instinctively backing away, forgetting that John was directly behind you. Your shorter body runs into his, and he sets his strong hands on your shoulders.
Oh my god. A serial killer hired you. Or at least a murderer. The sheer size of the blood stain definitely was a fatal amount to lose. It’s as if someone had taken a liter of blood and dumped it onto his expensive flooring.
“I’m sure you can understand why this is such a lucrative deal, right?” John’s voice rumbled into your right ear. Chills trickle down your spine, caused simply from his touch and his murmur. But this is bad. You need to leave. You can’t just clean up murder messes for a living!
“I, I don’t know if I can-“
“Oh I know you can. Say, are you a good multi-tasker?” John asked, his grip on your shoulders becoming a bit tighter. It feels possessive almost. You should have listened to your woman warnings your body gave you.
Your canine teeth dig into your soft tongue.
“I mean, yeah.” You squeak out to answer the man who’s paying you. A throaty laugh leaves his mouth.
“Oh, good to hear.”
The scent of his cologne enters your nose. Tobacco, ginger, cocoa even. It’s intoxicating, the way his smell lingers in the air; and how it’ll imprint itself onto your own clothes and skin. You can’t let this man’s Dior Sauvage distract you from getting the fuck out of this house.
“Listen, I don’t-“
“2156, 45rd Avenue. Apartment 5. Right?” John suddenly asks. Those chills that ran down your spine seem to be more sinister than you initially realized. You turn around and glare up at him.
“How do you know that?” You immediately question him with a brash voice.
John lets out a deep chuckle, his handsome smile is so stupid. You don’t want to be attracted to him.
“You should take the job. I could buy your building, your rent could go down significantly.” John smirked down at your trembling form. “But, I’ll need you to be good at more than just cleaning.” His voice grumbles into your ear. His hot breath sticks to your neck. His voice is deep and almost off putting, in a good way. God the way he speaks. The way he looks you over with those pretty brown eyes.
Your mouth lets out a gasp as you suddenly feel his large hand reach around and grab one of your breasts. His unwanted touch feels like fire against your clothing. Your body tries to squirm.
“Shh, dear, let me touch you. I like it more if there’s less of a reaction.” John whispered, you feel his erection grow as he presses his groin into your ass.
“Woah, WOAH!” You yell, shoving him away. Surprisingly he backs away, with his hands in the air. There’s a smirk that plays on his rugged face, as he bites his tongue and lets his eyes devour your body.
“Really? You want to refuse me? Do you know who I am, little girl?” John chuckled, taking a few steps forward.
“You know what? I think I’m good on the job, you’re a fucking weirdo.” Is all you have to say to that. His rugged face has the meanest scowl you have ever seen in your life.
The tension in the air is so uncomfortable, and you want to punch yourself for not listening to your gut. The churning. The accelerated heart rate.
This was all wrong, that creepy temp agent had set you up with some gig that was clearly not legitimate in the slightest, of course it was too good to be true. Men only want one thing, and you don’t know how you didn’t manage to connect the dots.
You grimace at the thought of what he just did to you as your legs sprint towards the door.
“Not so fast, little one.” John growls, it seems he’s got you pinned against his entryway door. Your face is pressed against the wood, and you cry out in pain from the abrupt slam of your body.
“What if I bought your apartment building, and raised your rent? That’s why you have this job, right? That’s why a pretty thing like you waltzed into that temp agency and expected some help. God, I’m glad that agent sent me a picture. Do you know how much I came looking at your confused face?” John huffs out, biting his lip and moaning at the thought. His brown eyes roll to the back of his head for a split second as he recalls the orgasm he had, just thinking about you.
When he was hunched over in his shower, canines digging cuts into his bottom lip and drawing blood as John fucked into his balled up fist. When he whimpered your name like a pathetic needy bitch, the noise bouncing off of the bathroom walls to remind him of what a sick piece of shit he is. The mere idea of him taking advantage of a woman in a predicament like this made his balls ache in excitement. His toes would curl on the wet bathtub floor just imagining you being his good little fuck toy.
The ragged tone in his breath and voice make John sound desperate, deprived even.
“God I want you to swallow my cum so bad, I bet you’d look like a good girl, taking me in your mouth, huh? You wanna swallow daddy’s load?”
You elbow him right in the chest, but fall to the wooden floor while you do so. Too bad you’ve always been a clumsy bitch.
You groan as the pain shoots up your spine. And you panic. This absolute dilf of a man was a freak! And by the looks of all of that blood on his floor, a monster. A serial killer maybe! What the fuck was the point of listening to all of those podcasts if you didn’t take the god damn hints John had shown several times?!
John doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you up as you kick, scream, struggle, he even gives your left asscheek a swift smack just for fun. You let out a yelp.
“Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go into the other room, and I’m going to buy your building. All I have to do is make a call. And you, cutie, get to make a decision.” John chuckled. “You leave, and I’ll have a group of men take out all of your shit from your place; and replace your doorknobs. Or,” John grabs your waist, your hand swats him away as you give him a glare. John sighs and gives you a smile, ruffling your hair with his large hand. “Or you let me have my way with you; while you clean up my little mess. And you won’t have to worry about paying a thing ever again.” John whispers. The man takes a step back, biting his lip at the sight of you being scared of him, before leaving and going into the other room.
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You groan, tears brim your eyes as you contemplate your choices. Seeing the vast wealth displayed by just his household furnishings, you figured he wasn’t bluffing. The sting from holding back the cry hurts like a bitch, realizing you have no choice in the matter.
“God dammit.” You mumble, grabbing the cleaning supplies. You can’t help but wonder how the hell this much blood got on this asshole’s floor anyhow. Maybe you didn’t want to know. Either way, baking soda would do the trick here; with some water and dishwasher fluid.
So you get to work, scrubbing and finishing away the blood stain from the wooden floor. It wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded.
Your stomach churned as you hear him approaching, his Oxford shoes clicking on the ground.
“Oh, good girl.” John snickered from above, you looked up at him with an icy stare, only to see something you certainly didn’t expect.
John and his hand, expertly stroking his hard cock to the sight of you cleaning.
John’s a good size. Bigger than average. Not something straight out of some unrealistic porn video online. The 7 inch long and slightly girthy dick in his grasp twitched, while it dripped precum from the pink shaded tip.
You start to feel something stir in you. This is wrong. You know it’s wrong. But fuck. His lip bite, the way he stroked himself to the sight of you, it’s not like he was ugly or anything. Quite the opposite.
He’s everything every woman dreams about in a man. Dark, brooding, with chiselled features and a symmetrical face. His olive skinned forehead is slick with sweat, definitely from being all hot and bothered at the sight of lil’ ol’ you.
Realistically, there could be worse out there to have fuck you.
“No no, little one. Keep cleaning,” John takes in a sharp breath. “Don’t mind me. Just pretend that this is normal, don’t be distracted. This will be your new normal. You’ll do various tasks around my house, and you let me touch you however I want.”
Now despite what your brain is telling you, the churning in your stomach drifts into butterflies. This isn’t right. In fact, it’s fucking vile. But why is your breath caught in your throat? Why does your head feel like it’s spinning?
You’re too much in your head at the moment, and you don’t notice the sound of a switchblade opening. With one quick motion, you can feel your leggings slice open. Before you have time to gasp, next comes your thong, he’s cutting the fabric and peeling it from your body.
John pressed the soaked cloth to his large nose, taking in a deep breath to get a whiff of your essence. Chills run down his spine as he grows even harder, your pure femininity smells absolutely divine to him.
“Oh you’re so wet for me, you like this, don’t you? You bad fucking girl,” he laughs. Your yelp escaped your dry lips as one of his long fingers swiped your moist entrance, pushing one in to test the waters. Your soft grunt of surprise and disdain covers your pleasure as you continue to try to clean up this stupid blood stain on the wooden floor.
You have to wonder, what the fuck happened here? Your mind goes haywire, imagining the man behind you potentially taking a life in the very spot that you’re in. How did he do it? A gunshot wound? Cutting someone’s throat? Torture? Tying them up by their feet to hang upside down, only to stab their jugular and letting gravity do its job? And why exactly are you thinking of it while John adds another finger, pumping the long calloused digits into your soaking cunt.
You catch yourself backing up against him, moaning a bit as you bite your lip to punish yourself for it. You’re not supposed to like this! What the fuck are you doing?
A suit jacket is tossed aside out of the corner of your eye, as a deep throaty chuckle echoes from the walls of his large house.
“Oh? So I’m right. You do like it.” John chuckles, pulling his fingers out. You let out a whine, almost angry that he would stop fingering you all of a sudden. John slaps your folds with the tip of his cock just for fun.
Your whine is replaced with a sharp squeal, his large hands grip the roots of your messy hair, pulling your head back as his fat tip eases into your pussy. The burn of your head and the burn of his dick throws you in a loop, especially at the sight of John.
John. This perverted, sick and despicable example of a human being, who’s eyes look so soft as he inches in and out of you. There’s a wicked smirk on his face when your eyes shoot to his lips, nothing that the cut up remains of your thong are in his mouth.
And you’re not sure if it’s hot or nasty. The obscene view of him damn near chewing on your underwear has you… well, fucked up. But it’s the way he begins to snap his hips against your ass that makes you forget about it. The other hand whacks your right asscheek, earning another yelp from you.
“You’re a fucking pig!” you sputter out, trying your best to show absolutely revulsion to the way he’s fucking you.
John can see through you like a piece of cling wrap.
You’re not making any progress in cleaning the blood stain, as he thrusts harder into you. You mew loudly while he takes his hand in your hair and instead presses your pretty little face into the floor. Your cheeks and nose throb as scratches embed themselves into your skin, as if you hardly notice. The way John’s cock feels as he has his way with your fluttering cunt is too good to even put into words. You have to remind yourself to breathe while he speaks to you.
“Fuck, you take me so well, princess. I didn’t take you for a good little slut, who’s my slut?”
Gritting your teeth, his tip brushed your cervix, and that will certainly give you an aching feeling tomorrow. You don’t want to admit anything to this monster. But his fist tightens at the roots of your hair, sending pain down your scalp right as his other hand reaches your clit and draws quick circles on it.
“I asked you something, sweetheart. Now fucking answer me.”
“I’m your slut! I’m your slut!” You repeat out, shame fills your belly as you give in to John’s desires, and he giggles in return.
“What an obedient girl you are.” John praises, his thrusts become slower, more passionate even, as if he’s rewarding you for answering him. Somehow, the slower and more sensual movement of his dick feels even better, especially with John incorporating those finger movements on your clit.
“Stop fuckin’ cleanin’, you’re doing a shit job anyway.” John grunts, swatting the brush out of your tiny hands and flipping your body over like a ragdoll. I mean, he’s not wrong, he just doesn’t have to be a dick about it.
“You think you can take me? You’ve been doin’ a good job so far. Better than cleaning, you got a talent for letting me fuck you like this.” John’s words are almost garbled and incoherent but you’re too afraid to shake your head. Before you can even respond, he shoves your cut up panties into your mouth, covering your lips with those calloused large hands, much to your dismay.
You muffle loudly, an attempted “What the fuck?!”, but he only snickered before pumping his cock back into your cunt, lifting your legs so your ankles could have resembled earmuffs on him. Your eyes roll back. He’s so fucking deep, John’s hand moved from your mouth to your throat, restricting your oxygen intake by squeezing as he fucks into you. Using you as his little play thing. Your sticky sweat coated flesh smacks against another, sending the sound throughout the house, along with your softened moans and whimpers.
“Your cunt belongs to me. Got it, bitch?” John asks, these things he is saying to you are fucking terrible, but you can’t help but be excited when they come out. You nod and bite down on what used to be your thong as he continued to rub your wet nub and fuck you hard. Your sharp fingernails dub themselves into his bare thighs, which will definitely leave marks later.
John hisses, but continues plowing into you nonetheless.
“Cum for me. Do it before I change my mind.” John ordered. Say less.
He didn’t have to ask you twice. While your eyes cross, your pussy pulses around his dick, as you become undone under him. Your walls flutter and you whimper loudly, your climax unraveling and finally giving you that oh so satisfying release. John grunts over you.
“That’s it, cum for me, who’s making you cum?” He asks.
“You are! Shit- you are, John,” you mumble into your underwear as your cock drunk state leaves you unable to adjust your body.
John laughs at your undoing, pulling your thong out of your teeth and slipping out of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for him to use his immense strength to lift you up onto your knees, as he gives his slick cock a few jerks with his hand.
“Open.”
In a state of euphoria, you don’t question the man who just gave you a mind blowing orgasm. Your lips part, and he bites his lip as the tip of his dick reached the back of your throat. Your eyes widen as he moans, fingers gripping into your hair once more as he fucks into your mouth a bit more. It doesn’t take long before he climaxed, spurts of cum that you’re forced to take and swallow, like the naive little thing you are.
The things a girl will do to make sure rent is paid in full.
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The next few days are certainly something. There are scratches on your face and some light bruising here and there on your body from your, ahem, shift, with John the other night. A male coworker even asked if you had a sprained ankle or something from the way you were walking into the office the next morning.
How embarrassing.
And now you find yourself, checking your mail and getting your rent bill in for the upcoming month. You roll your eyes, tearing the envelope open as your little dog jumps up on your leg, excited that you have arrived home. You aimlessly scratch his head, setting the invoice on your kitchen counter before feeding your pet a scoop of food, and grabbing the checkbook.
It’s almost like it slipped your mind that John had actually acquired your apartment building.
John does many things, but he doesn’t bluff.
Your eyes scan the piece of paper as it hits you like a brick.
Thank you for your business. Please send your payment of: $0.00 by March 1st, 2024.
What the fuck?
The stack of a few thousand dollars stares at you from your desk, and you swallow the lump in your throat. Your mouth dries up when the words in scribbled writing at the bottom read:
See you next week, pretty girl.
xoxo, J.
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dilfgifs · 2 years
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BRUCE CAMPBELL Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat (1989)
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dailypolls · 1 year
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knightgazes · 1 year
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DEATH'S VERY EMISSARY
John Wick IV dir. Chad Stahelski
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sethnorth · 26 days
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Keanu v. Ashton
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80source · 2 years
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Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade —1989, dir. Steven Spielberg
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michelle-is-writing · 1 month
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Help, John Wick
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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.
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imajinxnation · 16 hours
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Killer And The Wife-Beater
Donnie Barksdale x FEM!Reader x David Allen Griffin
SUMMARY // You and your husband, Donnie are in Los Angeles for a short trip to just get out of town for awhile, when you both stumble across a man who looks oddly like your husband, to which Donnie gets a brilliant idea..
TW // Smut, Angst, Abuse, Cheating, Hitting, Reader is a shit person too, Knife Play, Degradation..
DON'T SAY I DIDN'T FUCKING WARN YOU!!
Also, I can't call Keanu's character David in this because that's my Dad's name.. so I just call him Griffin.
Honestly, I haven't watched The Watcher yet, so please don't hate me if it's not the best depiction of his character!!
Gif credit to @meier-mar for both
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"Mm.. Donnie.."
As of right now, you're on your back in Griffin's home, on his bed with Donnie's head between your thighs, licking and sucking at your clit as if his life depended on it. Meanwhile, Griffin was watching from a chair in the corner of his room, groaning and palming himself through his jeans at the sight of your husband eating you out like there's no tomorrow.
Now, you may be wondering how you ended up in this position.. Well, you and Donnie were on a trip in Los Angeles, needing to get away from town for awhile and have some time for yourselves. You had been waiting for Donnie at a local café, when a man who looked almost exactly like your husband came up to you, asking if he could take some pictures of you, telling you that you were absolutely gorgeous.
You weren't one to turn down a man who was complimenting you, so you complied and posed for some pictures for him. Unfortunately, that time was cut short when Donnie had finally arrived, a pissed look on his face, pushing Griffin away and nearly breaking his camera in the process. This caused a fight to break out between you two, Griffin just standing there, watching you two fight, until you and Donnie both started getting extremely violent..
Griffin pulled you two apart after Donnie slapped you, and you retaliated by punching him in the chest back. Griffin tried to calm you both down, even though he was secretly enjoying the little couples spat you were having, but then, as another retaliation to Donnie's jealousy and rage, you grabbed Griffin by the shirt and made out with him in front of your husband.
You thought this would deter him, make him angrier.. and it did, but it also turned him on. Seeing your tongue inside another mans unsuspecting mouth, and Griffin's tongue fighting back against yours, giving into lust.. It made Donnie's brain spark with ideas..
And that's how you ended up where you are now.
"Baby girl, such a fuckin' slut.. Makin' out with another man in front of me, and now havin' him watch us fuck.." Donnie growls into your twitching pussy, his hands gripping your thighs tightly so you can't escape his relentless tongue.
Griffin groans at Donnie's words, unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper. Griffin pulls his pants down, and pulls his cock out of his underwear. He squeezes his hand around his thickness, precum spilling out of his pink tip.
"Look at him! Look at him while I fuck you," Donnie growls out once more before sucking and licking at your clit harder than ever, his beard scratching your inner thighs deliciously.
You do as he says. Moaning wildly, you throw your head to the side to watch Griffin as his gloved hand strokes his thick cock, making eye contact with you and groaning.
"Gah! Oh God, Donnie! Gonna fuckin' cum!" You moan loudly, nearly screaming, your hands frantically grabbing onto your husband's long hair.
"That's it baby girl! Cum for me, make him watch you cum for me, and only me! Do it, whore!" He growls, keeping up his pace with his tongue.
You scream, cumming hard onto his long, skilled tongue, your hands gripping his hair so hard your knuckles turned white. Donnie pulls away from your swollen clit and gives your pussy a firm slap, making your body jolt. As you come down from your high, Donnie looks over to Griffin, his cock still hard in his gloved hand.
"Get the fuck over here, city boy. You want my fuckin' whore of I wife, you can have her. For tonight at least.." Donnie sneers at Griffin, but switches places with him, now sitting in the chair where Griffin was.
You pull yourself up onto your elbows, still panting as you watch Griffin, wondering what he was going to do, how he would position you, what his cock felt like.. You loved Donnie's cock, don't get me wrong! But Donnie wasn't as thick as Griffin, and you had a feeling Griffin would stretch you out juuust nicely.
Griffin slowly walks to his bedside table and pulls out a small knife from his top drawer, the metal glinting in the lamp light. For a second, Donnie's heart dropped and became protective of you, ready to stop Griffin from hurting you, but before he could, Griffin silently dragged the dull part of knife across your collar bones.
He drug the knife down further and pressed the cool metal against your nipple, making it harden more at the coldness. A sadistic grin played on Griffin's face as he led the knife down further, across your ribcage, stomach, and finally to your pubic mound, making you gasp, your eyes widening at the sharp object being so close to such a sensitive area.
Donnie watches carefully, making sure that knife doesn't pierce your soft flesh. Sure, Donnie has hit you multiple times, but hitting wasn't the same as cutting.. And if Griffin cut you or sliced your delicate skin in any way, shape, or form? Well then he'd be a dead man walking.
Griffin slides the flat part of the knife through your arousal, gathering a decent amount of your juices on the weapon before bringing it to his lips and licking the knife, his eyes lighting up at the taste of your slick.
"Mm.. how sweet and delicious.. but not this time." He throws the knife to the floor and aligns his cock with your entrance hastily, desperate for release.
He pushes in hard and fast, not waiting for you to adjust to his pulsing thickness. He groans and hisses in pleasure as his cock is engulfed by your tight heat, not expecting you to be as tight as you are. Griffin grunts and starts thrusting hard but slow, wanting the pleasure to last for both of you. Meanwhile, you're a moaning mess under him, his thick cock stretching you out just as you had hoped it would; deliciously. There was a slight stinging, but you honestly didn't care and the pleasure overpowered everything else.
"Fuck! You're so fucking tight.. What, he not stretch you out? His cock that small?" Griffin teases, looking over at Donnie and smirking right at him.
Donnie's face turns red in anger and embarrassment, you can practically see the steam pouring out of his nostrils from the heat of his anger. Donnie growls and finally pulls his cock out, pushing his pants and underwear down onto the floor and coming closer to your face. He grabs your cheeks in his hand, his grip hard and warning. Donnie makes you look up at him while you moan, your pussy getting obliterated by the thickest cock you've ever had.
"You little cockslut.. you want dick so bad then you can fuckin' take mine too. Suck." Donnie demands, slapping your face before placing his dick into your awaiting mouth.
You do as he says, engulfing his cock in your wet mouth, licking and sucking, your moans sending vibrations through him, your hand taking the part of his shaft where your mouth couldn't reach. Griffin groans at the sight and speeds up his pace, fucking you faster and harder, bringing your legs up to lay over his shoulders, giving him more access and hitting deeper than before, making you nearly scream in Donnie's cock as you bobbed your head on his length, moaning frantically.
"That's right, baby girl.. you like having two cocks? Bet you'd fuckin' looove even more, but guess what, sweetheart? After this, you're mine, and I ain't gonna share you ever again.." Donnie hisses out as you lick over his slit, bringing your head up to suck hard at his tip before going back down on his cock.
Griffin ignores Donnie's words and groans deeply, his pace faltering and becoming sloppy, getting closer and closer to the edge, both you and Donnie could tell. Griffin showed no sign of stopping or pulling out, only going faster, trying to bring himself to the edge and cum, not even bothering to try and make you cum. You could definitely feel a pressure in your lower stomach, but it wouldn't be snapping any time soon without any stimulation on your clit.
"You cum inside of her, city boy, and this will be your last day on Earth, ya hear!?" Donnie snaps at Griffin.
Griffin looks up at him with a shit-eating grin before thrusting into your abused pussy harder, pushing as deep as he can in defiance to your husband.
"I'd like to see you fuckin' try, redneck!" Griffin grunts out. Though he had challenged Donnie like that, he knew he'd probably die if he came inside of you, and he didn't particularily feel like meeting death that night.
So, as soon as he felt himself near the edge, he pulled out, making you whine from the empty feeling, and started rubbing and jerking his cock frantically over you until one particular squeeze sent him over, thick, creamy spurts of cum covering your stomach, and even on your tits a little bit.
Donnie pulls his dick out of your mouth and quickly speeds over to where Griffin was hovering over you, his cock dripping cum still. Donnie pulled him up onto the floor and punched him hard where he knew it would knock him out, sending him falling to the floor, looking peacefully asleep with his softening cock pulled out of his underwear still.
Not bothering to fix the way Griffin looked, Donnie took Griffin's previous place, shoving his length into your heat. Even though the city boy had stretched you out significantly, you were still so tight. You moan out at the intrusion, loving the feeling of Donnie's cock inside you, like it should be. Griffin's cock was nice.. but you still prefered your husband's as to his.
"City boy didn't even make you cum, did he? My poor baby girl, so pent up.. Let me fix that for you.." Donnie smirks and licks his thumb before bringing his finger down to your clit, giving you the stimulation you craved.
That is what finally made you scream. The feeling of your husband's cock pounding into your tight pussy while his thumb rubbed furiously at your clit, not only focusing on his pleasure, but yours aswell. That's what turned you on; his willingness to put aside his own pleasure for awhile to take care of your sexual cravings.
"Fuck, honey! Gonna cum! Gonna cum all over your cock!" You moan and scream out, making Donnie thrust harder, his thumb working magic on your clit.
Your eyes widen as you feel the band in your stomach snap and waves of pleasure wash over you, making you scream, your head thrown back and your back arching off the bed. Donnie let's out a loud groan in response, thrusting hard one more time before breaking, his warm cum filling you up, spurt after spurt. He collapses on top of you and immediately groans in disgust as he realizes he now had Griffin's cum on his body..
"That's disgustin'.. we're gonna take over his shower before we go, cause I don't want his cum on you and especially not on me! Fuckin' gross shit.." he mutters the last part, making you smile and laugh.
"It was either that or letting him cum inside me.." you tease him.
Donnie growls and pinches one of your nipples playfully as a warning.
"Never.. you're mine and you're only allowed to be stuffed full of my cum.. Understand, whore?" Donnie growls lowly into your ear.
You giggle and smirk, "Yes, Sir.."
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muscleboi2000 · 11 days
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Keanu may be one of the hottest studs going but he is dominated by his rival Aidan, who bends and breaks the hunk with his dominating power
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good-jobber · 3 months
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movie-gifs · 2 years
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RATATOUILLE Release date: June 29, 2007 Directed by Brad Bird
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beansricejc · 2 months
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juices like wine
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werewolf!john wick x f!reader
synopsis: on a full moon’s night, you think you’ll be safe in this house alone with your fellow monster hunter.
warnings: monster!jw, cursing, pussy drunk activities, oral (f receiving), squirting, sniffing, watered down spec of masochism, dbf!john, age gap, dub con(?)
authors note: thx for all of ur messages, life is just too much rn and I’m attempting to keep up haha, here’s that spooky thing I promised
“Uh, are you sure this will-“
“Of course it will!” I rolled my eyes, tightening the cuffs on the iron cuffs on John’s wrists. “My dad’s book says that werewolves can’t break through iron. And his book is never wrong.”
John flashed me a skeptical look with his eyebrows raised before rolling those thin brown eyes. Hunting monsters has always been our side gig. Although, things became a little tricky when he had accidentally been bitten by a now dead furry friend, almost a month ago now. Tonight was the full moon, and there haven’t been any side effects but John insisted on taking no chances.
My partner in crime sighed, grunting a bit with discomfort as the iron restraints dig into his flesh a little.
“It better not be wrong. I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happened.”
My hand grabs his bearded and chiseled face, forcing John to give me his attention. There’s always been… tension, between the two of us. Yet neither have acted on it. He was my dad’s best friend after all, before my dad became vampire food on a job gone awry.
“Nothing is gonna happen.” I reassured him, my fingers squeezing his face a bit harder this time. John nods to himself, taking a few deep breaths. “It’s only for a night. Hell, I can just turn The Office on for you while you’re in here.”
Light hearted humor got me nowhere tonight. I’m an idiot. A fool. A fucking moron. That’s what I’m telling myself as I creep through the house on the second floor. A silver dagger in one hand, a phone in the other, with Charon on the other line, the closest Hunter in proximity to us in the state.
“His senses are better, he’s faster, stronger, you need to get out of there or just kill him.” Charon pleads. I grunt quietly.
“I can’t leave-“
A loud and bone rattling howl bounces off of the walls of the house, startling me. I froze in my tracks, cursing under my breath. I hang up the phone and slip it into the pocket of my leggings.
“You smell even better during a full moon.”
My breathing stops as I feel the breath of another behind me. I know damn well who that person is, his voice is much deeper and gravelly than normal, this isn’t him. This isn’t the John I know.
A yelp escaped my lips as two paw-like hands grab me from behind, tossing me over a huge shoulder. John’s shirt is mostly ripped all the way off, since his transformation took place under just a simple tee shirt and flannel pants.
“John! Put me down!” I shouted, legs thrashing as my fists beat at his huge back. Thud, thud, thud, it did nothing. I hadn’t even noticed that John had tossed the silver blade aside until I had tried to use it.
A deep throaty chuckle erupts from John’s mouth, right before he tossed me onto the bed of the master bedroom. I land on silken sheets as my eyes widen, experiencing John as half man, half wolf, for the first time. Fangs peek from his lips as his beard had become much more untamed and wild, even his hair is much longer and crazy.
Muscles bulge from his shirt, before he gets frustrated and rips it off with an irritated roar. The shreds of the fabric land on the wood floor, as his evolved muscles ripple over my cowering form on the king sized bed.
“Such a pretty girl. I’ve always known better than to have a piece of you to myself.” John speaks lowly, his red eyes linger over me. “But I can’t control myself tonight. I’m sorry sweetpea.”
“Wait, John, just, wait!” I know damn well it’s to no avail. His paws grab my thighs and push my legs to the mattress, as his nose buries itself in my clothed crotch. Frowning, I scream in objection but my squirming and resistance is futile. I can’t even beat John while we spar, of course I won’t even have a chance while he’s half man, half creature.
“Fuck, you’re ovulating.” John salivates and takes in a deep breath to get the scent of my cunt imbedded into his feral brain. With one tiny motion of his razor sharp claws, despite my avid protests, he sliced the crotch of my leggings open like butter.
“Hey hey hey! No! John, this can’t happen!” I stammer out quickly. John is far too heavy and I don’t stand a chance.
“Don’t worry. My cock is too big to give you right now.” John insists, dropping his pajama pants and tugging on his huge erection. It matches his insanely big body, one that I’m just realizing has been growing larger and larger ever since he began his chase.
My jaw dropped as I notice he’s got to be at least seven feet tall now, with a cock that’s about 10 inches long, but 4 inches wide. John seriously had a comically large and furry dick at the moment, and I had no idea if I should have laughed or just stayed quiet. So I picked the latter.
John drops to his knees, as both of his hands spread my thighs even further, taking a longer inhalation of the heat between them. Squirming under him, I couldn’t help but whimper and whine out of the pure tickling sensation. The feeling of his beard and nose on my folds were unfamiliar to say the least.
“John, get o-“
I stop talking and let out a moan as his big nose brushes against my clit. His long spongy tongue swiped efficiently on my folds, making them pliable enough to then plunge in a finger.
John let’s go of my thigh for half a second so he can shred apart my sleeping shirt, my tits falling out of the fabric. My nipples harden from the sudden air exposure. John growls against my cunt in response to that sinful visual. One of his paws smack my left breast, earning a gasp from me, while his tongue worked overtime inside of me.
Head like this only existed in porn, right?
Apparently not. Apparently, you can get head like this from your local werewolf.
My fingers dug at the bedsheets and also his head of messy long hair. My fingers even brush against his newly grown canine-like ears, I keep forgetting that this is only happening because John has turned. That meant, he was eating my pussy and needing to inhale my scent on pure instinct. If he doesn’t, he’d go insane. He’d lose control. Maybe even kill someone.
The mere thought of my vagina actually being the death of someone kinda has me in a chokehold at the moment.
“Mine. Mine. Mine.”
John continued to lick, suck, thrust, whatever he could to with his tongue to get my taste and scent locked into his memory. He’s even so desperate that he has managed to scratch up my thighs and stomach in the process. The cuts aren’t anything too deep, maybe a bit more than a cat claw. But I’d be in denial if I claimed the slight sting of his nails and there euphoric head I was receiving wasn’t a delectable combination.
A knot forms in my lower region, an unusual feeling. Not like an orgasm, no, this was something else entirely. I had no idea what to expect, but it sure as hell was shocking when I began to squirt all over John’s bearded face.
My cum splashed onto his cheeks and nose, even a bit of his forehead. The dribbles from my pussy coat his unkempt beard, and he catches his breath with an exhausted smile when he pulls away.
With my legs trembling and moans spilling from my mouth, I laid under his beastly frame, helpless. Exposed to my elder Hunter, it was a shock to see him as some vicious monster. My heart was nearly about to give out from the intensity of the orgasm, and from the pure shock I was still trying to comprehend.
While he collected my juices from his face and sucked them off of his fingers, my mind is racing as I wonder, is he even going to remember this tomorrow? When he shifts back, is it going to be awkward between us from now on? There’s no way he actually felt so strongly for me… right?
If he didn’t recall eating me out like it was his last day on earth, how am I going to drop that bomb? John’s hands grab my face, much like how I had a few hours earlier. His moist nose and forehead press against mine, smushing in a little. My own juices smear against my small face. John’s red eyes demand my full attention from mere centimeters away.
That same rough voice gives me a growling chuckle.
“Been waiting three years for that one, babygirl. Maybe now you’ll notice me.”
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