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ruskaroma · 1 year

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thinking of pissing john wick off so fucking bad that he fucks you into the fucking wall🤤🤤 he’d been so patient with you, but you just kept pushing his buttons so here you are, his hand clamped over your mouth as he fucks you full of his cum….

everybody pull up a chair cuz we are going to have a talk.

john wick is a soft dom. that’s up to no debate. he could be a mean dom sometimes, but that rarely happens. but the point still stands.

john wick is a soft dom.

and of course, a soft dom would be incomplete without a bratty sub.

john doesn’t like it when you talk back, but during this time you’re feeling a bit naughty. a simple denial from john ruined your entire day, and so of course it’s your job to ruin his too.

he has been on the edge all day long since morning because of your constant backtalk. the snarky little remarks. the murmurs you’d say that he wouldn’t hear just to rile him up even more.

john tries to talk the brattiness out of you, but unfortunately for him, he might have to do it the hard way.

he had just come back from work when you immediately bombarded him with your attitude. still dressed in his work attire and you in your pajamas, john thinks this is the perfect time to strike.

as he stands in front of you in the living room, your mouth immediately snaps shut when a large hand comes slapping your cheek. it’s not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get some senses in your brain and tell yourself that you’re absolutely fucked.

literally.

a yelp leaves your mouth as you touch the spot he slapped, but when you look at him, he’s staring straight back at you challengingly.

“got any more to say, brat?”

your lips wobble. it’s not always mean john comes to play, but when he does, it scares the living shit out of you. not only because he’s mean MEAN, but also because that means there’s a 99% chance that you won’t be able to sit properly for weeks.

“d-daddy–”

“now you want daddy?” he mocks, then gripping your jaw with one hand and forces you to look at him. “daddy has been real patient with his little girl all day long, but you just won’t fucking listen to a word daddy says, don’t you?”

you’re half scared, half horny. john is fucking seething. he must be so pissed at you that he even cussed.

“d-daddy, ow, you’re hurting me–” you try to move away from his grip, but that only leads you to being slammed against the wall as john forcefully pulls your pants down along with your panties, revealing your wet cunny that’s already dripping from this whole thing. “d-daddy–”

“this must be what you fucking wanted then. for daddy to be pissed at you.” he roughly unbuckles his belt and pulls his already hard cock out, not giving you enough time to comprehend what’s truly happening when he’s already pushing his fat cock inside your little pussy, stretching it open and making you scream. “now you’re crying, can’t form a single fucking word. what happened to that bratty little girl earlier that won’t stop running her mouth, hm? you got anything to say?”

your legs are wrapped around his waist as you sob hysterically on his shoulder, ruining his perfectly good black suit. your shared wetness is dripping down the floor as his heavy balls slap against your ass.

you clench around his dick, babbling incoherent pleas for him to slow down, but all you receive is another slap on the cheek.

“shut your mouth and take it. don’t make me shove my cock so far down your throat you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks.”

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sweetwolfcupcake · 4 months

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Daisies

Secret Garden

Category: Drabble

John Wick x Reader

Unedited

“Do you like daisies?”

The question caught (Y/N) off guard. John asked her out of the blue one day. The peace near the pond was unmatched. At least to John, who seldom could taste peace and happiness.

But sitting there with her was something more. Meant something more.

“I what?” She smiled, confused.

“Daisies. You like’em?”

“Yes, they are sweet, and they mean…”

He produced a bouquet of daisies and freesia from his back before she could reach a conclusion.

“For me?” She looked up to meet his twinkling gaze, a ghost of a smile bloomed on his otherwise stoic face.

He shifted in his seat and straightened up a bit.

“Yeah. You like them?”

John Wick was a man of few words but what he lacked in words, he showed in action. She smiled and took the bouquet into her arms, letting the flowers tickle her chin and neck.

“I think so.”

No, she did not like daisies.

She loved them, she decided as she leaned to kiss him.

----

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick drabble #john wick x y/n #john wick imagine #soft john wick #soft! dark john wick #yandere john wick

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rafecameronsslxt · 1 year

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Shame

Soft!Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: The people of France take your relationship with your husband to be described as loss of affection, but when you confront Vincent he becomes angry at you. Vincent takes his time to apologize with sex.

Warnings: SMUT, dry humping, p in v, fem receiving, and arguing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Masterlist

France was a heavily ill-rumoured country but had the rumours of your relationship with the newly crowned Marquis been as bad as the mass was saying? That we looked estranged and angry anytime we were out together in public, which had been rare considering John Wick was running about killing, and we had security every hour of the day, sometimes even becoming a little too invasive.

Our bedroom was remarkably dark. It was fitting and not what I had wanted, but Vincent decided I had no say. The people we paid did as he said, walls black with a pretty shade of gold, an elegant crystal chandelier, and a king-sized bed with a headboard made of the finest materials. As a natural, we also got black silk sheets that melted your body to the bed until you never wanted to get up.

Our relationship wasn’t exceedingly…estranged. Vincent never seemed to have time for you anymore. His wife couldn’t fit into his schedule, and when you tried to talk with Vincent about the situation plaguing your mind, he’d get angry and shout at you for any reason because he locks his feelings up, not daring to tell you his emotions.

Tonight you were feeling explicitly irritated at Vincent, making it more than apparent when you got ready for bed beside him in the massive bathroom, sighing, grumbling, or throwing angry glances his way that he wouldn’t acknowledge. So instead, he heads to his study like every other night.

You walked the large hall in a rose gold silk bralette and bottoms with a slit on both sides of the thigh but in a tasteful fashion. You walked in unannounced, fed up with the formalities with your own husband. His dark green eyes glanced up at you and quickly returned to the papers he was sorting out on the polished wooden desk.

Your hands massage his shoulders softly like you’d done a million times before and attempts to leave marks on his neck, but he shrugs you off quicker than expected. You try gliding your hands under his robe, feeling his bare chest. “What do you need?” Finally, Vincent says something. You sit on the papers, seeing his face turn with outrage. “I need you.” You say, needy, watching him pinch the bridge of his nose.

Vincent picks you up by your thighs and drops you to your feet by the door. He plasters a fake smile at you and opens the swarthy wooden door. “No. I’m not leaving Vincent. You never make time for me. You don’t even touch me when we sleep in the same bed!” You raise your voice at him, being the only person who can actually shout at him, but he can get louder when he wants to.

His face falters at the change in your voice, and a pout becomes a complaint on your face, lips puffed out and looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “You always have to be so ungrateful for everything. I give you anything you want, and this is how I get thanked, sweetheart!” Vincent shouts at you, backing you into the railing outside his study. You flinch at his loud words in your ears, but they don’t just stop. He keeps going. “I’m trying to protect you and figure out John Wick before things fly off the handle. Do you want to go-” He stops mid-sentence, regret palpable on his face. “You’re going to do what. Kill me? Asshole, I can’t believe you right now.” You force his hands away from you, pacing back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut in his face, but he slams it harder, echoing throughout our home.

“You always act like a child!” His voice reverberated around the room. I throw my hands in the air. “It’s always me, Vincent! If you would just tell me what’s wrong with you. I mean, I get it, baby. You're not good with feelings, but please.” You were desperate, pleading with him to give in because you couldn’t handle another argument. The tears I was holding back slipped out slowly. He motions for you to sit on his lap as he glides a hand through his unusually dishevelled hair.

Vincent’s complexion becomes soft. He kisses your plump red lips lightly and leans his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry.” You nod at his delicate words that you get to lavish in. This was almost new, a foreign feeling you’d missed. You softly grind your hips onto his. Vincent lets a deep chuckle flow into your ears. He’s got a little smile adorning his face while Vincent’s hands take off the silky bralette, but his tender lips take their time kissing your collarbone, nape of your neck (surely to leave pretty purple circles), and boobs, like he was re-remembering your body meter by meter.

His lips connect to your nipples, sucking on them and tongue running over your now extremely sensitive boobs while your hips move faster, feeling his hard-on pressing against your clit. You became so entranced at the moment that you started speaking French. “Je t’aime tellement.” You moan out into his ear. (I love you so much)

Vincent hums out in agreement with you. He stops your hips, and you look at him, confused. His green eyes had brightened with the happiness you took advantage of before he’d been crowned. “Tu m’as manqué, ma chérie.” His face was as serious as ever, and his irises had a tinge of sparkle when you hid your face in the crook of his neck. (You are missing from me, sweetheart, or I’ve missed you, sweetheart)

The spark left when he flipped your back to the silky black sheets, his fingers wrapping around the waistband of both your shorts and panties, pulling them off eagerly. Vincent’s hands run over the smooth shaved skin of your body, smelling of jasmine and lavender, along with the essential oils used to keep clear skin. He takes a deep breath and begins kissing your thighs, each delicate kiss placed until his mouth reaches where you need him the utmost.

His tongue glides up and down your slit, teasing you, but the littlest touch articulates soft whimpers falling from your parted mouth while he looks into your eyes. Two fingers slip inside of you with ease, and then his mouth sucks on your clit. Vincent had never been a soft man, nor had he ever claimed to be, but when he was, it was the best pleasure you’d ever experienced, his soft French accent rich in your ear, whispering sweet nothings and making up for the things he’s done.

His fingers pick up the pace, but not enough to be considered rough, and you were more than satisfied to be treated gently after his harshness this past week. His tongue was doing overtime because of the flicking and suctioning, and fingers moving in and out had your thighs clenching around his head, eyes rolling to the back of your head, loud moans resounding from wall-to-wall back to Vincent's ears, making him harder than he already was. You were on the edge of release when his mouth and fingers left your body, emitting a groan. You hadn’t noticed he was naked until now. His plunging v-line and defined abdomen and his thin body are surprisingly muscular too, as you’ve been manhandled more times than you could count, especially when he thrives off inflicting pain on others around him, so the soft side of him threw you off sometimes.

He kisses you passionately despite tasting yourself simultaneously, pulling you by your thighs, and you feel his tip enter you, a gasp escaping your mouth. “It’s been this long?” His sentence is terse, and you nod, arms being thrown around his broad shoulders. Then, he bottoms out in you, and with pleasure comes pain because as much as it felt good, it’d take a minute to get comfortable. He moves in and out of you slowly, but even that was hard as you had been so tight that it was a problem to move, but eventually, he got into the rhythm, which was harsher than anticipated.

Your pedicured nails scratch his back, leaving red streaks that would satisfy the damage you have done to him, to remember tonight. His calloused fingers circle your clit quickly, and you don’t think you’d last another second. “I’m coming!” Tears fall from your eyes out of pleasure, and you hear his soft whispers, but he continues to thrust into you, becoming overstimulated. You then feel his hot cum cover your velvety insides. His grunts and curses fell from his kissable plump lips that you did kiss, and he pulled out, feeling his cum drip down your thighs.

Vincent enters the bathroom and returns with a damp washcloth, cleaning you up. He softly lies beside you, his arms around your waist, leaving no room for air, but you just wanted him to be close, and he was for once. It felt euphoric to have your husband back, kissing your shoulder until your eyes fall heavy and sleep carries you peacefully.

#vincent de gramont #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #john wick 4 #marquis de gramont #john wick chapter 4 #soft smut #bill skarsgard x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont imagine

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writers-advocate · 1 year

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thinking about late night drives with mr. wick

thinking of two specific scenarios

the first is centered around you. you’re nervous because you’ve asked him to go as fast as he likes. to show you what he likes so much about it. you didn’t realize just how fast this man could and would go. especially when it draws those adorable little gasps from you, and you keep shifting in your seat, making your skirt ride up. he tells you to relax, you mumble about how you’re just a little on edge. he promises he knows what he’s doing. and that he does because next thing you know, his rough hand is up your skirt and your panties are pushed to the side, free hand still steady on the wheel. he ignores your protests about focusing on the road and the pads of his fingers slide with ease over your clit, sending your words into a jumbled mess. “already so wet for me. thought you were scared?”

the second is centered around him. not driving like a maniac this time but still, who is he if he’s not speeding. he tells you, just an off handed comment, that he’d like a challenge. one that isn’t exactly trying to kill him of course. you’re quiet for a long moment before suddenly smiling and batting your lashes at him. “what if i give you one?” he watches your innocent smile and not so innocent eyes out of the corner of his own and oh how could he ever say no to you? you beautiful thing you. you sinful thing you. he calls you so through gritted teeth, your lips around his cock making it much harder to focus on the road than any other obstacle he’s faced but god if it isn’t turning you on. he doesn’t seem to mind either, because the hand that isn’t white knuckling the steering wheel tangles in your hair and pushes you down further, making your eyes water. “my pretty whore. i should’ve known.”

either way, it ends with him pulling over on the empty road, pulling you out of the car by your hair and bending you over the warm hood to make you scream into the devoid night air until your legs give out

#i swear i’ll do something with both of these ideas but i’m squirming too much atm #advocate writes #john wick #soft hubby #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick smut

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dreamilymagicalhideout · 1 year

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Coat

It has been a really long time since I posted something on tumblr. This was made from the bottom of my heart since I don't want to work, but I have to because I have to pay my bills *sad*. Here it is, I hope you guys like it.

Marquis Vincent de Gramont x f!reader

You take off your high heels and put it on the side. Your socks still cling to your feet. You were walking through your bedroom. Feeling the cold ties below you. You look around the fancy apartment, searching for Vincent.

You told him that you wanted to meet him to talk about something, which he did not reply as he seemed to be sulking at you because you were too busy with your work these days. He felt like you neglected him and yes, you have to admit that it is true.

This month was the last month of your contract. Your company wanted to extend it. However, you on the other hand, was not keen on the idea. You just worked there because you have bills to pay. It's not like it is your dream job or something. You just have to work because you need money. But all of it has changed since Vincent entered your life.

That tall handsome man with expensive suits managed to entered your life somehow, despite all the differences between the two of you. It has been a year since you met him. You still remember your first meeting with him. Your company was known to be a technological company who offered a course for a middle aged workers who happens to be lost in this digital era. And it turns out that your boss was an acquaintance of him.

:readmore:

You met him at the company's party. Which he attended and surprisingly you were invited too. Later, you found out that the reason that you and some of the workers were invited was just because of their good looks.

It was clear that everyone who attended this party was out of your league. You were glad that you were not overdressed, however it seems like it was a good idea to search for fresh air for a moment.

You were greeted by a cold air once you opened the glass door. Now you regretted choosing this type of dress where there is a low cut on your chest and a puffy shoulders. Which now make you felt cold. Even if you had a long skirt, it did not help a lot because your feet still have goosebumps.

Maybe it was not a good idea to step out here. However, going back in is not a pleasant idea either because you really loves solitude.

"You must be cold in that dress" Said someone behind you.

"Thanks for stating the obvious" you turned your head, wanted to see who was talking with you now.

"You're most welcome" He said with a smug smile on his oh-so-handsome face. You could see his face as he stood next to you. His tall body towering you even with those high heels on. You can tell that everyone here has expensive suits. However, his was seemed to be on a whole different level. His hair was styled neatly, making his forehead visible. Those long legs bent a little as he was talking to you.

"I am sorry if I interrupt your space here" You said with the intention of returning his rudeness.

"No problem" He said as he just standing beside you. You both were just standing there without talking, but it was not a comfortable silence when you see the scenery in front of you and he was just standing there while looking at you, making you felt agitated.

I mean should he introduce himself first since he was the one who interrupted your space?

"My mom said it was rude to just stare and not introducing myself. So Y/n" You introduce yourself first since you know he did not plan on introducing himself first.

"Marquis Vincent de Gramont" well that explains the accent.

"What should I call you?"

"Vincent would be fine"

You actually wanted to just enjoy your time here alone. However, this tall person did not support your idea as he kept staring at you.

"Do you perhaps needs something?" You asked politely.

"Yes"

"Is it possible for me to help you?"

"No"

"Okay"

"I need a coat actually because it is cold here. And from what we have seen here, it seems like you dont have any coat at your disposal"

He was just being a brat.

"Forgive me for not being able to fulfill the things that you need" You said sarcastically.

"That's fine actually, you don't need to feel bad" He said playing along with you.

"You are so ungentlemanly" You said while looking at his face.

"That was my sex appeal"

"…"

You are just keep staring at anywhere but him, but those eyes still clings into you somehow. You pretend like he did not have any affect on you. As if those green eyes did not make your face burning.

"It seems like you have felt warmer somehow" He could see that your face turns redder than before. You open your mouth to say something, but your brain just freeze, so you closed your mouth. Then, you can feel someone coming, you saw someone in a black suit walking closer. You looked at Vincent while he just looking at you. Clearly did not care about the guy who was approaching you.

"Sir" The guy is the black suit gave him a white coat. He take it without looking at that guy, he did not even say thank you. His eyes were locked on you. He put the coat around you. You knitted your eyebrows. So when he said he needed a coat he meant this? For you? When did he even get it?

"Searching for a fresh air in the middle of a party where you meet a tall handsome stranger, then he gave you a coat. What could be more cliché than that?" You just stare at him in dazzlement. Literally don't know what to say. He was delighted when he saw your reaction.

"See you later" And then he left. Just like that. Leaving you all speechless. You don't even say thank you to him.

It was such a scene from a movie, however he did not ask your contact or something that could keep both of you stay connected. But somehow, he managed to find you again and make another cliché moments with you until both of you were officially a couple.

Now that you are in your apartmrnt with Vincent. You called out his name, but no one answered. You thought that he might not come since he was still mad at you, so when you saw that there is a 6'4" man sitting at the couch in front of the plasma TV you were a bit surprised.

Here is the sulking man sitting there without any intention to move or answering you. He was in his usual three piece suits. His sleek hair was pushed to the back making his forehead could be seen. He was leaning to the couch, his elbow is on the arm rest while his fingers is on his forehead. Seems like someone was bored and angry.

"Well, hello there" You greeted him while you sat next to him. You've got no response from him.

"Did you wait too long?" He was still silent.

You wrapped your hands around his arms. He swayed a little but he held himself from doing so.

"I have a news that I would like to share with you" You tried to be clingy at him, batting your eyelashes as you soften your voice. He seems to be insterested as his eyes were looking at you.

"What is it?" Oh! It speaks!

"You must be pleased to hear it" he arched his eyebrows, waiting for your next words.

"I am no longer working because my contract has ended" You were looking at him in the eyes while you said that. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as you said those words.

"WelI, I have you all to myself then" He said as he starts to wrap his arms around you. His body which seemed to be unmoved was now moving to you.

"What do you mean? I'm always yours" You said with the smile on your lips. You could tell that he was amused when his lips turned into a smile too.

"I like where this conversation is going" he studied your face as you look at him.

"I see that you are now unemployed. Now I hired you as my Personal Assistant"

"Is this serious?"

"Deadly serious. Now come on" He held your hand as he guided you through the front door.

"Where are we going?" You realized that he has changed now, back then he was just dragging you around anywhere by your arms or wrist. Now he he did not do that anymore, he held your hands and pull you with him slowly.

"Your first job, darling. We are going to Paris" he said with a lopsided grin on his face. You could tell that he was no longer mad at you.

"I haven't even packed my things"

"You don't have to do that, it's fine"

"We haven't signed the contract yet"

"There is no contract, you are already a permanent workers" Now you know that he was just joking.

"Wait, my shoes" You are now in front of your apartment without any shoes on. The height difference between you and him are now palpable as he walked in long strides and your short feet need to catch up to them.

"You don't need those shoes"

"It seems more like a kidnapping than a work"

"Either way you love it" his smile got wider as he said that.

"Tu es un morveuse mais heureusement je t'aime" He said smugly.

(You're a brat, but luckily I love you)

"Speak English" You protested.

"Oh wait je t'aime means i love you, right?"

"I don't know. What do you think?" He asked back.

"You should teach me more French"

"Say 'je veux te baiser'"

(I want to fuck you)

He said that with a glint on his eyes and a smirked that fully morphed on his lips. He was still looking at you while walking. Really waiting for you to say those words.

"I got a feeling that somehow it was not the right thing to say"

And just like that you are now on a plane to Paris. You currently have nothing to worry about. The days of having to get up early in the morning to pay your bills were gone. The man beside you could take care of that as his outfit right now costs even more than your salary in one year even with bonuses on.

*fin*

Yes! I fell deeply in love with bill. By the way, I apologize if the French was wrong because I use google translate:). I hope to see you again in my next writing soon. Until then, take care.

#marquis vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #imagine #john wick #john wick 4 #fluff #soft #vincent de gramont fanfiction #bill skarsgard

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pink3princess · 9 months

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hi 🙌🏼 could u do a small fic on john wick just standing outside the shower whilst the reader is showering because he is just like a ghost 🧍🏻‍♂️

cw;tw: nakey reader? john being unintentionally creepy

masterlist

Heat from the shower washed away everything on your mind. it allowed you to finally decompress after a long day; all you could think about was getting out of the shower, into bed, and knocking out.

After feeling content, you turned the water off and grabbed your warm towel.

And maybe, it was the steam clouding the room, or maybe it was the fact that your boyfriend was an assassin who was trained not to make a sound, but you failed to noticed him standing ghost-like a few feet from the shower.

It was only until you had stepped out onto the cold tile and the air had started to clear, that you realized the tall figure standing inches from you.

You let out a small scream as the life left your body, a hand falling over your chest in a dramatic attempt to stop your heart from failing on you.

You looked up at the intruder only to find your boyfriend looming by the shower in his white tee and boxers.

"Oh my gosh, what are you doing in here? ", you asked him out of breath

"Just waiting for you," he said softly with a smile, his eyes crinkling in the process

You tried to be mad at him for scaring you, but truthfully you couldn't; he just had a puppy dog look on his face.

He closed the gap between you two and lifted his hand up, stroking the soaking wet hair out of your face.

"How long have you been there?" you let out a laugh, your hand now hanging on his outstretched arm

"Not too long..." he mumbled, softly wrapping his arms around you

"One day you'll literally give me a heart attack you know," your voice muffled as your boyfriend pulled you into his chest.

After that, there seemed to be a comfortable silence around you both.

You finished up your night routine and went to bed, where you were met with him on top of the covers quietly reading a book.

After shuffling into bed and nuzzling into his chest, John instantly put his book down and instinctively wrapped an arm around you, rubbing his hand up and down on your arm.

"I'm sorry for scaring you earlier," he says of the blue, " really didn't mean to"

"It's okay," you mumbled sleepily, "I guess I don't mind it. It's just a little quirk of yours. I know you don't do it on purpose."

He hummed in response, not able to put into words how comfortable he was around you or how much he loved you.

While stuck in his own head thinking of all the things he couldn't say, he noticed the the slow rise and fall of your chest, smiling to himself as you fell deeper into sleep.

#jess's inbox<3 #im sorry this took so lng i was so uninspired for a while #john wick #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x gn!reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #john wick 2 #john wick 4 #joh wick imagine #john wick 3 #john wick fluff #soft john wick #domestic fluff #domestic john wick #I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WROTE

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iovesia · 10 months

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I’ve been fed today!!! so much content and I’m contented too!!! I LOVE U POOKIEEEE 🫶 life is currently has its bumps but your posts always makes it better ❤️ bodyguard! jw and jc w late night dancing in the the rain seems like a fever dream

:(( after a shitty date when they’d pick you up and it would start pouring, eventually the both of y’all realize that the rain isn’t gonna stop anytime but you guys would do it anyways!!! I feel like jc would be reluctant at first as he found it so cheesy 😵‍💫 but jw too!!

He’d be scared you would get sick but let’s the both of y’all play anyways since he knows he’s fully capable of taking care of you if you got sick 🤭

-🥖 anon (I think you can rly see my addiction w jw and jc everytime I request HAHA 🤭)

hello pookie !! ilysm mwah, mwah! i'm happy that my works are at least a little silver lining 🤍🫂🫧

and yesss, back with my fav bodyguard duo !! you're walking home from a shitty date, when it starts to rain and the three of you are crowded under some shop front shade as the rain is pouring down. you, of course come up with the genius to enjoy the rain at least, rather than sulk.

"c'mon, please, it'll be fun! it'll be like that movie, singing in the rain!" you grin, pulling at constantine's arm. he side eyes his partner guard, before furrowing his brows at you.

"i have to sing too? not a chance, doll."

"c'mon, constantine, don't be boring," jw eggs on, a cheeky smile on his lips. the older man bumps constantine's shoulder, only piling on with your pleading. unfortunately for constantine, he caves in and indulges your movie fantasy.

jw just watches from the side, laughing silently as you dance with the (extremely uncoordinated) constantine, the rain soaking through your clothes.

#love letters.#little soft moment here i LOVE THEM SM!!!#*⠀john constantine.#*⠀john wick.#john wick x reader #john constantine x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x reader #john constantine imagine #john wick imagine #🥖 anon.

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strigital · 1 year

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i convinced a friendo to go watch John Wick 4 in theaters (haven't gone to a cinema in like 10 years so i am excited af!) so here's a quick sketch of The World tarot card / cover art for my SilverV fic that I've been wanting to start writing for quite some time now (prelude chapter already on AO3 👀) inspired by the movie's poster i saw in the city

EDIT: fresh outta cinema and boyyyyys that movie was

✨GOOD✨

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johnwickcaretaker · 2 months

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"I Had No Choice But to Seduce Him"

OOC blog author here! Answering this prompt from @daisy-is-a-writer. I was inspired to take this in a more melancholy direction.

I had no choice but to seduce him. I'm doing a god damned public service, you understand? He hasn't worked since the day I first dug my fingers into his hair. And neither have I. But just as importantly (yes, I will call this important), he was crumbling in front of us, his face collapsing into an eternally bruised scowl, that limp which attends him after battle becoming, slowly, a permanent fixture, like the necklace and collar that still rest on his nightstand. He needed something to want, someone on the other side of the bed. It wasn't that he would die, no. It was that he would suffer without me. Isn't that reason enough? To see a man and feel that violent ache twist inside you, that hunger for his not-suffering, for his un-alone-ness? When I can make him cry out softly against my lips, when his face is smooth with peace in the early morning, that is food to me. And to him. I'm not all sunshine like you. I cannot give him an unsullied life, because I do not have one. But I can lay bare to him a need and a loss as deep as his own, and watch that brute, animal compassion respond to me. I can entwine our griefs, press our wounds together. His blood is warm because of me. So Helen, I hope we have your blessing. And if we don't…well, too bad. Just let anyone, living or dead, try to drag me away from that man when he needs me. I will guard him until the end. Until he comes to you.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x oc #helen wick #soft john wick #hopeless romantic #angst

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worldsgreatestsinner · 5 months

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he’s sittin’ pretty

enjoy my silly little babygirl doodle

#this is my art soft launch #john wick #john wick art

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evren-sadwrn · 6 months

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Mornings

Pair: John Wick/Helen Wick

Warnings: None

Word Count: 514

In another universe, we are living our best life.

Early morning, Helen is next to him on the bed. She snores, John knows that since early on in their relationship. It never really bothered him since it never compared to the noises of the underworld— his past which still lingered in the blank space of his eyelids when he closes them. Each blink a subtle reminder that he’s only here because of them.

John is usually first to wake up. Not from the alarm clock they set after agreeing on a certain together, but from the light of the sun peering in. It hits at an angle that’s directly shining into his eyes.

He turns to look at Helen, asleep in her white singlet and face buried in the pillows. Her sounds of sleep muffled into the cloudiness of their bed.

John can’t get up, he realizes quite quickly.

Helen’s leg is wrapped around his, knee curling at his thigh. It should be an uncomfortable position for Helen, but she’s still sound asleep. John removes the blanket off of him to fully understand how Helen’s leg is wrapped around is and how he can remove it without disturbing her. John puts his hand on her leg, slowly unwrapping it and laying it back down.

Mission’s a successful one like always, now John gets up from bed. He stretches his back and arms before going downstairs before the alarm clock goes off and wakes up Helen.

These mornings go like always, since they moved in together in New York. A rather suburban place in contrast to what people think of New York— a strictly urban landscape where the skyline can pierce the clouds, so easily reminding the gods that humanity can build better places than in the ancient world.

Mornings are a ritual. A habit and a routine that isn’t really written but it’s always done even when it’s not said.

John puts down two bowls, then cereal, then milk. The early morning lights peer in through the windows. Cars pass by and John can watch them as he puts in spoons for the two bowls. The home is quiet. Silence in every room as the warm temperature of the morning starts to settle in and diminish the colder condition of the night.

“G’morning, John…” John watches as Helen slowly comes down the stairs and to the kitchen. She seats herself next to John on the dinner table in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Helen.” John says back.

“Did you sleep well?” Helen asks him before spooning cereal into her mouth.

“I did.”

John’s been having sleep problems. Since a few weeks ago. But nothing pills and doctors can’t help. It’s been getting better. Hours adding more and more each day. John just has to sleep at an ordered time.

“That’s good.” Helen remarks before she’s off to eating. “You know, I was thinking about getting a puppy since we don’t really like children.”

“A puppy?”

“I think we can name her Daisy, no?”

“No, sounds perfect.” John says. “Daisy.” He repeats.

Mornings aren’t that bad.

#john wick #helen wick #here’s a soft oneshot for all the helen enjoyers(me)#🪐evrenwrites #short fic #helen x john #john x helen

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ruskaroma · 1 year

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omg what is john wick was the readers bf and he wanted to surprise her with a cute bubble bath and give her lots of hugs and kisses and maybe fingering? 😟

no because john wick would be an absolute softy bf :(( coming home from work/uni after a long day and john just happened to be there? you bet you're in for a lot of snuggling and spoiling from him. thinking about young!john trying his hardest to be the best boyfriend for you. it had been a blessing from the heavens above when you didn't leave him after you had found out about his real job, the least he could do is spoil you rotten and give you something you won't get from any other men. a nice warm bubble bath with your back against his chest. his fingers playing with your swollen clit as he smothers you with kisses on the neck, pressing his hard cock against your back and calling you his pretty and good girl. john might get a little possessive and leave a fuckton of hickeys just because he can't help but to ruin your soft skin. he just wants to touch you all over, mark you up, praise you always for being a good girl for him :(( im so sad :((((

#ask #drabble #concept #I LOVE SOFT JOHN #SOFT YOUNG BF JOHN #my works #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick smut #john wick #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves smut #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #I'M BACK

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sweetwolfcupcake · 1 month

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Wildflower: 04

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warnings: None really but creepy, questionable behaviour (what else do you expect in a yandere fic?)

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

(The GIF is not mine, credit to the owner. Sorry, my pea-sized brain cannot keep up from where I downloaded it.)

Unedited

Wildflower 03

“You have given her the card?”

Another hit, another night at the Continental, another dinner with Winston.

The older man nodded, continuing to eat, eyes on his plate before they rose to meet John’s intrigued ones.

“You know that the card means…”

“She is under my protection and the hotel’s doors are always open for her— services included.” Winston completed.

“She’s a civilian, Winston.”

John could not get it. Winston seldom gave his personal ‘Access Card’ (As he liked to call it) to anyone– even in their world. John had it, Charon had it and he did not know of anyone else who had it until…Until two nights ago.

When he saw it among (Y/N)’s possessions, he had to look twice. It was, Winston's card, after all, and she fucking carried it around in her bag like an idiot.

“And how did you come to know about the card? I had it shipped to her discreetly.”

Well, that was the question he was dreading. But he would not let it show.

“I bumped into her during…a job.” He did not elaborate and hoped he would not need to.

“Wrong time, wrong place?”

John nodded. Fortunately, she had just caught the panicked rush. And she had dropped her bag somewhere along the way. John could only imagine what could have happened if the bag fell into the wrong hands– if the card fell into the wrong hands.

He had only gone through the contents to decide where to drop the bag safely. He totally did not go through her home address and ID.

Winston only hummed and continued to eat. His question, though, was still unanswered.

“She has nothing to do with our world, Winston. She does not need that.”

“Well she walked into our world, had a meeting with me, sat with us at the underground bar— everyone there saw it. I respected Artemis, and I wanted to keep my word.”

Yes, she walked into their world. Like a fucking lamb stumbling into a slaughterhouse. John sighed and continued to eat his dinner. He would rather eat by himself, in the confinement of his room, but he did not mind Winston. Besides, a dinner invitation from the manager of Continental held great significance.

He liked the silence and slowed thoughts when he was in his company, doing mundane things. Like a normal human being. That was the closest to an ordinary life he could ever get. The rest was unattainable luxury.

But in recent days. Even in the comfort of silence and solitude, his mind was filled with a certain name, a certain smile. A certain face. A certain voice.

It felt so uncharacteristic of him— it was puzzling. His hold tightened on the knife and fork, the image of her confused face as she looked around people rushing flashed in his mind.

Not again. Not again!

Gulping some wine, he tried to clear his head. He was thinking like that again. He should not be thinking like that.

She is a civilian. An innocent civilian.

He chided himself.

“Something troubling you Jonathan?”

Of course, Winston would notice.

He looked up and sighed in silence. Thankfully, Winston did not poke further.

—------

(Y/N) admitted that there were a lot of things she had not prepared herself for before moving to New York— the basics were, thankfully, sorted out in her head. And yet, the pace of life, the mouse problem, more cockroaches, and the general indifference came to her as bumps and jerks. But all was good.

Everything was good until two days ago.

Nothing prepared her for a literal shootout at a subway station and losing her bag in the process. Thankfully, she was not caught in the middle of the crossfire— it was just the panicked rush just outside the crime scene.

But what she was more thankful about, was the fact that a kind officer brought her bag to her doorstep by the same evening. Her wallet was in that bag with her address. She did not wish to think what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands. Crime in the city ran rampant.

She had heard of it, not much on the news, but more as whispers floating around in her relatively quieter town. But she never paid much heed to them. She had treated them as rumours— the news did not show much, after all. The news did not show even half of it. But above all, the general public’s indifference to such crimes baffled her.

Did they not want their city safe? Were they not afraid? What era was it?

She reflected on Alex’s words. They discussed the same.

“You eventually grow immune to it.”

He had told her. Not very helpful, but that was an explanation of some sort. People in the city must have grown immune to it— they learned to live with it. But could she grow indifferent as well? She did not think so.

But there was too much at stake. She did not wish to return to her hometown, was still not talking to her father other than one-worded texts, had a job in New York that paid well–enough, had already signed the recent contract and paid two months of rent and the overall living cost of the city kissed the skies and any spontaneous decision would end up burning her pocket— not just a hole in her pocket.

So, the only option left was to get up, dust herself and keep moving. Yet, among all the chaos, she was glad to have found a friend like Alex. His humour and insight always helped. Her thoughts moved to her encounter with John Wick a few days ago. Clearly, Alex and John knew each other. But Alex never elaborated other than calling John an ‘acquaintance’ and John…well, she might as well admit that she would be reluctant to approach him under most circumstances.

There was— she could not put a pin on it. But there was something almost ominous about that man. The way he looked, the way he spoke, the way he stood, carried himself— every aspect about him seemed to stand out. Not enough to gain immediate attention, but enough to steer clear of his way.

Now, that did not make sense. She realised. Neither did her observation that there was still something inexplicably melancholic about that man. His eyes were unreadable but sharp and so eerily calm that his gaze made her gulp– true. But there was a deep sense of sadness. It was subtle, but it was so ever-present that it seemed to have become a part of him. Nothing temporary but an inseparable part of him.

Now, that’s a bit of a stretch!

She chided herself. What was she doing? Wondering about a man she had met only a couple of times, weaving assumptions and stories?

She shook her head and took the last bite of her dinner. She missed how dinners were timely back in her home. She missed her home a lot, she was not afraid to admit it. But she was too proud to go back. So, whatever it was, she needed to get along with it.

—---

What was he doing?

John was at a fix. He had the night to himself— a chance to relax but why was he not under the covers, relaxing on his bed?

Why was he standing in the darkest corner of the room, watching her sleeping form? Her apartment was decent, he noticed and she was careless enough to not even feel a presence in her room.

What if it were someone else?

Someone dangerous?

You are dangerous.

His subconscious mocked.

John blinked, trying to convince himself that it was all for Winston’s sake— he had taken her under his wing and John, being close to Winston, must play his part in protecting her. Especially when wolves were lurking around, one had followed her from the Continental, sniffing behind, wrapping a sheep’s skin over to lure her near.

Alex Norton…

He was skilled with poison and guns, and while John had never crossed paths with him at work, they had shared a few respectful nods now and then at the Continental. But now…

Now he was keeping an eye out for Norton.

John gulped, keeping his eyes fixed on her form. If he could keep his reservations aside, he understood Norton’s fascination with the girl.

They were both starved creatures from hell, crawling out now and then, and she was an angel, offering the solace he knew he did not deserve.

She offered what people like him were deprived of. It was tempting to just pull her into the depths of the dark with him, let her light it up— but how unfair, how cruel would that be?

Did he not see and endure enough cruelty? Why would he want an innocent civilian to lose their privileges just because one starving, deformed, empty soul had suddenly realised how impossibly bleak and bitter his world was?

No, John had made peace with this life. He would not call himself ‘the best’, but he knew he was good—- good enough to win special privileges at the New York Continental– to win the confidence of Winston Scott.

He never truly understood Winston, or his ways.

As far as he knew, Artemis was like any other patron at the Continental and had been a part of the underground before he officially left his…tribe, in search of freedom— some semblance of it at least. He had it now, and it was the best he could get.

He must make peace with it.

He stared at the asleep woman for a good minute before looking away. He needed to leave. He wanted to leave. He really wanted…

John sighed and leaned against the wall instead.

He would just watch, and observe. He would keep a distance. Like he should.

****

So, we are getting at creepy John, I don't want it to be too slow, but I also want it to be realistically paced. I don't know hat I'm doing, but I am doing it anyway.

#yandere john wick #john wick x reader #dark john wick #dark!john wick #soft! dark john wick #yandere john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick x you

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sweetpapercroissant · 7 months

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‘i won’t be mad’ was your father mad? did you try saying no? were you scared? did you want to look back to make sure your dad was still there, would save you, hadn’t abandoned you, but you couldn’t because you knew he’d be mad? were you good? did you stay perfectly still? or did you move too fast, spook the monster? did you mess up the hunt? were you dragged back to the car and told to stay there while your father went back to find the monster’s trail? did you try to say i’m sorry i’m so sorry i was scared when he came back empty handed? did the silence suffocate you when he drove you back to the motel to your baby brother? did you feel cold wrap around your insides when he didn’t so much as breathe in your direction? did you feel, for a moment, a sick dread spreading across your insides, like a tumor, unsure if you were real, if you existed in the same world as your dad, or if you were a spirit, like the ghosts he hunts? did you pray desperately for your father to forgive you, say something, please i’ll do anything? was that fear more real, more terrifying than even when you felt the monsters breath, searing, down your neck? did you try not to run, when the car stopped in front of the familiar looming shape of the motel against the night sky? did you fumble with the room keys, as your father came up behind you with the bags, stupid, stupid, can’t do anything right? did you fight the sting of sudden tears behind your eyes? did you try to hide your relief when the door finally closed between you and the outside world, a flimsy illusion of safety? did you say just give me one more chance and i’ll be good dad i’ll never do that again i won’t mess up i won’t let you down i promise? did the coldness in your father’s eyes make you feel worthless? did you nod and say thank you when he said no you won’t? were you good? did you stay perfectly still? did you ever say no again?

#lines that make me insane #supernatural #dean winchester #dean and john #all that softness and quaking and blood #s1 #s01e18 #something wicked #.txt

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writers-advocate · 1 year

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tearing contracture scars | j.w.

description: john loses the only guiding light he has

cw: angst, pretty canon typical violence

you were off limits.

a weight seems to leave his shoulders when he hears his name tumble from your lips. the one whose call he will always willingly answer. “c’mon! i told you i’ve got a surprise for you.” he comes to you like a moth to a flame.

a yell tears through his throat when he sees smiles on familiar faces. they give him until midnight to give himself up.

he comes to you like a lamb to the slaughter.

“don’t you dare jo-!” a figure comes into frame, the camera goes fuzzy, and bile rises in his throat with the thud of knuckles on bone. the sound of your little cry.

time stamps indicate hours of footage. that’s what drives him to race down streets and highways, to come to you with no intel. you yell at him, scream for him to stay away. if you see his face you swear you will never forgive him for coming to you. it cuts to what he fears may be the next day and you’re crying now. bloody, bruised, broken, and yet begging him not to come. you plead with him to run, to leave you and to never look back.

he’d told you far too many times to pretend you’d never met him. to run away, move across the country and forget about him, your “bestest friend” as you called him. you did it to make him laugh. eventually it made him smile.

every time, his advice was met with a giggle, and you’d simply continue whatever you were doing. he could see the unspoken fear in your features but it wasn’t until that year, the one of his final night, that he’d realized…

it’s funny. you’d considered him a friend practically from the moment you met. you’d done things friends do. and things they don’t. stitching him back together, bandaging his wounds, staving off infection. how was he just now realizing?

you can’t have friends in this line of work.

he’d made sure you were off limits. one of his conditions when he left. it was a miracle you’d gone so long caring for him without incident and he wasn’t going to risk it.

it was all for nothing. you really can’t have friends in this line of work.

the car screeches to a halt in front of your home and he practically launches himself out to sprint towards it, gun in hand, your name on his lips.

“john!” your shoes pound against the pavement, sprinting up the long driveway. the terror in your voice is enough to pull him out of his daze and he looks up from the burning rubble at his feet.

“john where are you?!” you’re not looking where you’re going and he catches you, softening your impact on his chest. you clutch at his shirt, gasping in relief, he’s here, he’s safe.

“where were you going?” he murmurs. you don’t answer as you stare into the smoking remnants of his home, simply dragging him away to your car to get him patched up. it begins again.

the doorframe splinters from his impact. he can see the chair from the video at the end of the hall. one that he’s seen you in so many times, laughing, smiling, focusing on some frustrating task. he’s ready to call for you when he feels the wave of heat. he’s thrown back out onto the steps, and he finally processes the reason his ears are now ringing when he sits up. it’s gone. your home is gone. you are gone.

“my door’s always open for you, john.”

everything around him is crumbling, turning to glowing embers. fueling the fire.

“let’s take a picture! i need something to hang in my place, the walls are bland.”

edges of paper burn quickly around your smile.

a lingering touch. a gentle hand. a quick glance. a worried look. blind. he’d been so blind.

heartbreak claws through his chest to pave the way for something worse. something darker. and your light is no longer there to guide him out. all he can do is walk the scorched path once again.

a/n: i’ve been too horny the past couple weeks n i got sad so have this d:,)

#advocate writes #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #soft hubby #john wick angst

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