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ruskaroma · 1 year

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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name.

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present.

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow.

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows.

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again.

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her.

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him.

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him.

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her.

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!”

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it.

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women.

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep.

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls.

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off.

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #john wick x you #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #john wick smut #ochl #my works

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nickfowlerrr · 11 months

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whatever he wants

pairing: darkish!bucky barnes x (gray?)curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. tiny hint of voyeurism. uhhh this isn’t really dark but it’s not not dark either… so idk. if there’s something i’m missing pls lmk.

words: 3.4k

notes: smutty little part two to IOU. hope you guys like it. thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, feedback and comments are more than welcome and so appreciated. please leave your thoughts, let me know what you think. 🖤

You can’t get up.

You’ve tried three times now, and nothing. The heavy metal arm slung around your waist just. won’t. budge.

You’re about to elbow him in the ribs, the heat of his body and the hot summer air is suffocating and you need to get up - you need to breathe.

One more try and if he doesn’t move, you’re gonna make him.

You roll onto your front and his arm drops onto your back, still keeping you from leaving the bed.

You writhe and huff in annoyance, turning your face to look at him.

He’s still sleeping. Still deceptively beautiful.

You stop your wiggling for a moment as you take him in. His pouty lips, his unfairly long lashes that brush just against his cheekbones, the stubble that’s lining his perfectly sculpted jaw, and his unruly bedhead.. He looks peaceful like this. Nice. So nice, you’d never believe he could be such an absolute dick so much of the time.

You stare a bit longer, wanting to commit the moment, how beautiful and content he looks right now, to memory.

You take a deep breath and try to roll back over, but the weight of his arm makes it no easy feat.

“Bucky,” you whisper yell, not wanting your voice to carry through the rest of the cabin.

You’re sure you’re the only one awake right now; well aside from Steve.

His leaving for his morning run was what had woken you up to begin with. You’ve been laying here for fifteen minutes and you needed to get up now, but Bucky still didn’t move.

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily.

If you punch him, he’ll wake up, but he’ll be pissed. And you don’t think you wanna start your morning off dealing with his attitude.

You swear Bucky Barnes might just be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met.

If one thought he was grumpy normally, they’d be entirely unprepared for him when he was woken up by anything or anyone other than himself or his alarm.

With the one exception of you, of course. More accurately: you working his cock.

Whether it was your hand, your mouth, your cunt, what have you - it was a surefire way to make sure he woke up on the right side of the bed.

But you really aren’t in the mood right now.

Instead, you begin to wiggle under his arm again, worming your way down the bed until finally, blessedly, you get free.

You exhale with a breathy laugh as you sit up on your haunches before looking over to Bucky again.

You can tell already that your absence from where he expects you to be beside him is disturbing him. His brows furrow and then his hand is searching for you among the mess of sheets.

You watch curiously as he pats around the bed before he finally blinks open his eyes and meets your gaze.

He scowls when he recognizes you sitting up across from him.

“Don’t start,” you say as you get off the bed, “in fact, don’t say a word. Just go back to sleep, princess.”

He growls, not nearly as loud as you know he’d like, with sleep still clinging to him.

“What the fuck did I say about you calling me princess,” he gruffs.

“Said not to, if I’m not mistaken. But I like doing it, so I’m not gonna stop.”

“Til I make you,” he vaguely threatens, his voice getting darker and more clear as he wakes up fully.

“Like to see you try,” you taunt as you make your way into the bathroom.

Bucky doesn’t scare you so much anymore. Though you’ve had to learn when to stop pushing. You’ve gotten pretty damn good at reading him. Knowing when he’s entirely serious and at his limit is something you can spot nearly right away now. Since that first night all those months ago, the only times you ignore the warnings are when you’re wanting what he’d given you the first time he had you. Something more rough than normal from him. Something purely carnal. Bordering on truly depraved.. And god, he’s never failed to deliver.

You know you’ve become complicit in this whole arrangement, but you’re starting to care less and less. What can you say? A powerful, beefy, hot as hell super soldier wants you. Chose you. He’s possessively protective over you, and problematic as that can be, you find it ridiculously attractive. And the sex if fucking amazing.

Sure, he can be a dick, but he’s been less of a dick to you. And you quite enjoy the way he now directs his annoyance and anger at those he knows irk you, too.

It's not like you don't fight or argue anymore, but it's almost always resolved quite.. nicely. Who are you to complain about that?

And god, the perks being with Bucky has come with.

You never really fed into the whole “fuck your way to the top” thing, but hey, here you were.

Getting better missions, nicer gear, getting more involved with the big leagues. And though you wouldn’t say it aloud, Bucky always having your back - during missions, in meetings, coming to your defense when someone would question your input - it was nice. Sometimes it was like he was your own personal guard dog.

And you loved the way people would shrink in on themselves, making themselves sparse when you and Bucky were around. You'd never admit it, but you guys were definitely a power couple around the tower. And you were thriving.

The attention, the opportunities, the sex. If you hadn't been blackmailed into this whole thing, you wouldn't have a solitary complaint.

You’re spitting out toothpaste and putting your toothbrush away as Bucky barges into the bathroom. You look up from the sink and shoot him an annoyed glance at the unnecessary disturbance.

“Really?” you ask as he grabs his own toothbrush from its spot.

“What?” he says. You roll your eyes and brush past him to start getting dressed.

“Put on your swimsuit,” he orders as he pauses his brushing to speak.

“Why?” you’re already annoyed knowing the answer. You guys have been here on this little summer getaway for two days now, both of which you’ve successfully managed to avoid getting in the water.

It wasn’t that you were scared or couldn’t swim, no, it was nothing like that.

It was that goddamn bathing suit.

The only bathing suit you had, thanks to Bucky who went into your bags after you’d finished packing and took your other two options out.

You’d swear it was skimpier than some of your lingerie.

“We’re going swimming,” he smirks, eyeing you hungrily.

You turn with another roll of your eyes and head to the drawer that holds your swimming wear. You throw Bucky’s trunks on the bed without care and grab your suit without looking at it.

You lean in the doorway of the bathroom as Bucky washes his face off, scowling.

“Can’t we get breakfast first?”

“You can get breakfast while wearing it.”

“You get off on humiliating me, that’s it, isn’t it?”

He barks a laugh as he turns to face you, “You think this is me trying to humiliate you?”

You don’t respond as you keep your face stoic. He approaches and his large hands come around your neck, cradling the back of your head as he pulls your face closer to his. He crashes his lips to yours, the minty feel still lingering as he licks into your mouth, pushing you against the wall as he backs you up, his hands keeping your head from hitting it. You return his fervent kiss, your hands coming up to hold his forearms, despite your annoyance before he pulls away suddenly and leaves you wanting.

You lick your lips as you catch your breath and meet his eye.

“If I wanted to humiliate you, sweetheart, you’d know.”

—

When you’re both done getting ready for the day, you having taken your sweet time to get into the bathing suit, you slowly open the bathroom door you had shut and locked behind you nearly fifteen minutes ago.

You’re overly aware of your belly and the jiggle of your ass and thighs with each step you take.

You hate this swimsuit and you swear you’d burn it if you weren’t sure he’d take you skinny dipping should it mysteriously disappear.

The growl that emanates from Bucky when he sees you genuinely startles you and when his big hands grab you by the waist, you feel that familiar heat growing deep within you.

His hands move down to grab your ass, kneading the ample flesh he finds there as you push against him.

Your breasts are nearly spilling out of the too small cups and though the band of the thong-like bottoms can be pulled to sit high on your hips, it really does nothing to hide or cover your stomach the way you’d like. And the tropical blue color brings too much attention.

It’s not that you’re self conscious, though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit, it’s just way too revealing for you. You hate that everyone will get to see parts of you you don’t like showing. You feel like you’re giving away parts of your privacy.

But you know Bucky doesn’t care.

As long as he’s the only one who gets to touch you, he’d happily let the world feast their eyes on you like this, show them what they’ll never have.

“This is ridiculous,” you complain for the tenth time.

“You look fuckin’ sexy,” he purrs, letting his hands run back up your body.

“Ugh,” you groan as you push him again, swiping your towel off the bed and slipping on your slides as you pass him and leave the room.

You can feel his eyes on you as he follows behind, his gaze seemingly glued to your body.

You walk downstairs quietly, still unsurprised to find no one else up. Everyone else had stayed up well into the early hours of the morning last night, drinking and chatting, playing stupid games. You and Bucky had been taking part until around midnight when he decided he was done keeping his hands to himself. He took you back to your room upstairs where you both stayed the rest of the night while the party continued on downstairs. You were grateful the loud chatting seemed to drown out your and Bucky’s moans.

You threw your things in an empty bag Nat had left on the table and then followed Bucky into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

You were hoping you could get out and into the lake before anyone could see you, so you hurriedly toasted some bread and sliced an avocado while Bucky made eggs. You threw everything together on a paper plate, leaving the used pan on the stove and had Bucky get water while you seasoned the food.

You had the plate in one hand and your bag in the other as Bucky carried the cooler with drinks out behind you.

It was only nine and yet the heat was already sweltering.

The perks of being at a lake house, though, is you don’t have to go far to get to the lake.

The setup from yesterday and the day before was still there as you set your stuff down in one of the big wooden loungers and then put the food down on the long table. The dock was just behind and to the right of you as you sat on the wooden bench attached to the table.

Bucky set the cooler down at the end of the table before taking a seat across from you on the opposite bench.

“You were quick to come out here.”

“Yeah, I’m praying no one sees me in this atrocity,” you say as you pick up your toast and take a bite.

He scoffs before grabbing his own piece.

You both eat fairly quickly, having been hungry from your late night activities, and soon you’re watching as Bucky strips off his tank top.

He grabs your towels and the sunscreen, handing the bottle to you and expecting you to follow him as he walks onto the dock.

You do so after taking another drink of your water and forcing yourself up.

He sits on the edge of the dock, his legs in the clear blue water as he waits for you, the towels thrown down haphazardly, ready for you to use them when you’re done swimming.

You move to sit behind him, opening the bottle and squeezing some sunscreen into your hands.

You rub it between your hands for a second before you start to apply it to Bucky’s back.

More and more until you’ve got him covered, massaging his tense muscles as you do. The groans that slip past his lips let you know he’s enjoying it.

You apply more to your hands as you run them over his shoulders and down his chest. You’re pressed right up against his back as you work. The lower your hands slip, the deeper his groans. You smile to yourself and slip one hand past the band of his trunks teasingly, running gently across the top of his pelvis before you pull away and start to work on his right arm.

“There, you’re all done,” you say as you let your hands run down his solid back once more.

You move back and Bucky brings his legs out of the water as he turns to you.

“You’re not.”

He pushes you to lay down on your towel as he moves to straddle you, the water still on his legs sending shivers across your skin.

He grabs the sunscreen and starts to deliver the same attention to you.

He’s obsessed with touching you. Your softness is his favorite thing, and as he applies the sunscreen to your exposed torso, he really takes his time feeling you, enjoying the goosebumps that raise, the tickles and shivers you try to hide. He runs his hands all over you. You’ve closed your eyes as the sun was shining in them and gasp when you feel Bucky’s hands on your breasts, squeezing them before you feel his lips on you, too. You can’t help the moan that leaves you under his attention.

“Turn over,” he says firmly and headily.

You don’t even think to not listen.

He gets more sunscreen as he covers your backsides, rubbing it in with perfect pressure. Another moan slips as he squeezes your neck with one hand, the other trailing down your spine.

And when he’s done, his fingers move to easily undo the string holding your top together, running his hands up and down your back before he leans further down and starts kissing your bare skin.

“Bucky,” you whine, stopping yourself from sitting up knowing your chest will be on complete display.

“Everyone’s sleeping, no one’s gonna see.”

You want to argue, but you can’t bring yourself to. Even if you did, he always gets his way in the end.

You feel him move the flimsy fabric covering you and you really are moving out of thoughtless desire as you bend your knees and hips up slightly before he starts prodding you with his fingers, your wetness evident as your cunt glistens.

You groan as he slips two thick digits into you, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them just right.

“Fuck,” you whimper under your breath.

You’re so lost in his touch you don’t expect it when his fingers move to part your folds open, your slick hole on display for him as he wastes no time and pushes into you with his aching cock.

You moan into the towel beneath you as he stretches your pussy.

The position is unexpectedly delightful as he hits you deeper and deeper with his every thrust.

You swear you could cry with how fucking good it feels.

“You like that baby?” he pants, “Like having this big dick inside your tight fucking pussy.”

A cry leaves you as you nod your head emphatically.

His speed picks up as his words get dirtier and you get closer and closer to the orgasm you can feel building.

You’re both sweating, Bucky more than you, as you fist the towel and groan loudly through grit teeth.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware anyone could come out at anytime and see, but you don’t have the will to care as Bucky keeps fucking into you, his hands tight on your hips as he uses you. Another hard thrust has you careening over the edge, moans and mewls leaving your lips as your toes curl and your walls squeeze his thick cock as you come.

Bucky doesn’t let up as he fucks you through it, hips pummeling against your ass over and over until he growls deep in his chest, his hips twitching as he let’s himself go inside you. His grunts and moans fill your ears until he eventually slows completely and pulls out, slapping your ass as he gets up.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath from a moment before you fix your bottoms and roll over, holding your top together.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” you breathe heavily.

He laughs to himself at your words as you slowly get up. He takes his time adjusting himself in his trunks before he turns on you, grabbing your face and tilting your head up in his direction. He leans down and brushes his stubbly cheek against your soft one as he speaks in your ear, “I know you fuckin’ wish you did.”

He keeps his hold on you as he turns his face and takes your lips hotly in his own. He walks you back. And back. And then grabs your loose top from your hands as you gasp, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. He moves his hand to grab your ass as he holds you against him, your full breasts pressing against his built chest.

He walks you back once more, smiling wickedly into the kiss. Then suddenly your stomach drops as your eyes shoot open when you feel your feet leave the dock. You're under water in a second and quickly swim back up to break the surface, a scowl etched across your face as you struggle to get your breathing back.

Before you can say anything, Bucky joins you in the water, jumping in and splashing you as he does.

You fight the urge to try and hold him down as you swim to the ladder and blindly search the deck for your top. It may be skimpy, but it’s better than nothing.

Bucky’s arms circle you as he pulls you back before his large palm crawls up your chest to cup your breast. Squeezing your flesh before he starts thumbing and tweaking your nipple.

You hate that your body reacts so fucking quickly to him as you feel yourself getting horny all over again. His lips are on your neck as your ass is against him. Your eyes close as a soft moan falls from you when he moves his attention to your other breast.

The creaking of the deck has your eyes shooting open as you attempt to cover your chest. You see Steve walking up, his chest gleaming with sweat as his running shirt is held in his hands.

You want to just let yourself sink under the water but Bucky’s hold on you doesn’t loosen for a second, in fact it only grows tighter, more possessive the closer Steve gets.

“Morning, lovebirds,” Steve greets with a smirk.

You know Bucky won’t let you go so instead of struggling and bringing attention to your nakedness, you grab his hand under the water and pull his arm across your chest as you hold him there.

Bucky wears a smirk of his own as he palms your tit and feels your body’s instant reaction.

“Hey,” Bucky replies, squeezing your breast again knowingly.

Your eyes widen when you see the twitch in Steve’s shorts, his prominent bulge growing as he stares down at you two.

You risk peering up at him and meet his eye instantly as you do. You swallow thickly as you look back down, trying to keep your composure. You know he can see everything, but as long as no one acknowledges that out loud, you can at least pretend that he can’t.

And then, of course, Bucky speaks again.

“So, you enjoy the show, pal?”

#dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #dark bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader

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julianalvarez9 · 11 months

Text

daddy's day / rúben dias

author's note: need to stop having ideas for this man out of nowhere. wrote this in like, 2 hours, so not proofread at all, just wanted to get it out in time 😮‍💨 feedback is very much appreciated, as always! <3

summary: it was father's day, and even if rúben, technically, still wasn't one, you decided it would be fun to wake him up with a cake and some morning sex to celebrate the day.

warnings: SMUT!!! oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, badly traslated portuguese.

wc: 1.5k words.

you knew how strict ruben's diet was during the season. you hoped that, now that he was on holiday, he would lose it a little.

the cupcake was safely stored in the box it had since buying it in the bakery, and you felt giddy with excitement, trying to not make any noises as you were going up the stairs to your shared bedroom in the summer villa in portugal, where you two were staying. hopefully, rúben would still be asleep, like he was when you slipped out of bed earlier, when you went to retrieve the secret present.

peeking through the half-closed door, into the room, you saw your boyfriend soundly asleep. he had his top half on show, muscles making you salivate at the mere sight, while his bottom half was hidden behind the silk sheets. he had one one arm behind his head, and the other resting on his low abdomen, making him look as if he was sculpted by the gods himself. to you, he was.

you felt slightly guilty for waking him up, but in reality, he had already slept in more than he normally would have. your feet were soft against the carpet, wanting to avoid waking him up and ruining the surprise. you rested the little box in the bedside table at his left, and now, with your two hands free, you could use one to support your weight on the bed, swinging your right leg to straddle his lap.

rúben's eyes remain closed, although you knew he must have woken up, given that your boyfriend was a known light sleeper. but even if you hadn’t known that fact, his calloused hands finding your waist would be enough alert of his woken state. still, he didn’t say anything, choosing to play pretend instead.

“baby, wake up,” you whined, and the littlest smile grazed his lips, “i have a surprise for you”.

that seemed to pick his interest, because he tried to open his eyes, but not successfully, given the excessive sunlight that painted the room. “you know it’s not my birthday, right, anjo?” he said, squinting his eyes to catch your expression. you nodded, but still, lifted slightly from his lap to retrieve the little bakery box.

he groaned in discontent at the loss of your body against his, but soon enough, you were pressed against him again; the silk sheet and your lace bottoms the only layers separating rúben and you. one of his hands found home in your waist, again, while the other one was kept under his head, in a makeshift pillow, that held his head higher, to maintain his focus on you. “it might not be your birthday, but it is father’s day”, you pointed out, opening the box to show the little round white cake, decorated with little red hearts.

the red letters on top that read “let’s eat this cake and have sex” remained hidden to rúben, who now was completely awake. you were too concentrated sweeping your finger over the cake and tasting the frosting to really see your boyfriend’s surprised expression. “you’re not a dad yet,” you rushed to explain, and the way he smiled, with his whole teeths on display, had you feeling warm inside. “but you could be a year from now”.

“so, are we celebrating in advance?” rúben giggled, and you shifted over him, now feeling his hardened member close to your heated center. he got up now, supporting his weight onto his elbows, and with this new position, he could see what the red letters said. his brows shoot up, curious if the sentence that could be read truly represented what you meant, and you only laughed, getting another taste of the frosting. it was a clear provocation given the pleased noise you made, and the ‘plop’ sound your finger made when it left your lips.

rúben dived right in, capturing your lips against his in a heated kiss that was interrupted sooner rather than later. “we’ll save this for later, yeah?” he said with a rough voice, taking in his hands the box that was placed on his abdomen to rest on the bedside table, again. you pouted “you didn’t even have a taste”, at which he replied, “interested in tasting other things first, anjo”.

you didn't comply when he swapped your bodies, now him being the one hovering over you. this way, he could kiss you how hard and deep he wanted, not afraid of dropping anything to the floor. it turned heated and messy quickly, with his wet kisses making their way onto the column of your neck, and down. “rub-ruben, please,” you begged, already feeling too hot under his ministrations. he reached with his kisses all the way down to your center, and with the help of his hands, rúben opened your legs further. “patience, baby. i need you to be all nice and wet before, yeah?”.

you nodded eagerly, and rúben chuckled at your enthusiasm that could be seen in your undergarments, which your boyfriend quickly took off you. even if he tried to play it cool, rúben was as hungry for you as you were for him, and it quickly showed when he dived right in, licking a teasing stripe up your pussy that had you bucking your hips against his mouth. he used one of his hands, that was previously holding the outside of your legs, to your stomach, making sure you were still against the mattress, so he could keep lapping at your folds like he was a starved man.

whether intentionally or not, his nose kept bumping into your clit every time his tongue slipped back inside your wet hole, and it had you rolling your eyes and arching your back in pleasure. “not gonna last long, rubs,” you warned, feeling your orgasm was fast approaching, but it seemed to have spurred him on: he didn’t take his eyes off you for a moment, instead, continued licking, nibbling and swirling his tongue in your heated center with renewed hunger, until you couldn’t take it anymore, and thus, exploding into his mouth.

his chin glistened with your arousal when he came back to hover over you, and you lifted slightly off the bed to be able to kiss him. he moaned against your lips when your hand found his dick, free since your last encounter the night before, and already leaking pre-cum. it felt painfully hard, so you stroked it expertly, before rúben grasped your wrist. “need to cum inside of you, bonita”.

your moans at the filthy words he says answer him, even when you can’t form a coherent sentence at the moment. he taps his cock against your entrance and looks into your eyes for approval, but the only answer he gets is a whine, followed by a strangled beg. “please, rúben, need you inside of me”.

he obliges, like he always does when it comes to you. being inside of you like this, completely bare, still feels new to both of you, and it heightens the pleasure incommensurably. rúben gets inside of you quickly, pushing the first few inches in, and you both gasp at the intrusion. you shut your eyes tightly due to the pleasure and he stops, afraid of hurting you with his length, so he pulls out before he’s even all the way inside.

“no, no, please,” you beg, again, while wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his middle, trying to keep him buried inside of you. “more,” you say, voice hoarse due to the screams, and rúben goes in again with renewed force, bottoming inside of you this time. “won’t last long if you keep squeezing me like this, anjo,” he grunts, and you arch your back against him, chests clashing together.

it doesn’t take long before a knot forms in your belly for the second time that morning. it’s difficult for rúben to snap his hips against yours, when you’re trapping him inside with your legs, but he doesn’t complain. instead, he turns to whisper the filthiest words into your ear. “you gonna let me fill this pussy, eh?” he rhetorically asks, “gonna make me a dad, yeah?”.

and with that, the knot snaps like a rubber band; your orgasm crashing over you with such force that it takes rúben down too, tight ropes of white painting your warm walls. your boyfriend’s careful not to crush you when he inevitably collapses, his warm exhales arising goosebumps over your neck, where his head is currently tucked in.

“you’re gonna be the best dad,” you say confidently, caressing his soft, warm brown locks that fall over his forehead, sticking there due to the small layer of sweat over both your bodies. “i can see it. a little one, with dias printed on their back, running around”. rúben sighs, and he can’t possibly tell you how much he has been thinking about it lately, ever since you two had the conversation of starting a family together.

“i only want them to look like you” he smiles, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck to see your flushed face. “a mãe mais linda di mundo” (the most beautiful mom in the world).

#football imagine #football smut #football imagines #football x you #football x reader #ruben dias smut #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you

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cerastes · 1 year

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I’m thinking of how, in OpRec 2, Laurentina knows she has very limited time as herself before her brain deteriorates and she loses her reason again and becomes the “Specter” again. She has few precious hours as herself after years of being trapped in her own mind due to the experiments and the insane amount of pure liquid Originium Amaia and Quintus injected directly into her spinal cord.

She uses a bit of this time to spend it fighting a battle alongside Misery (who insisted she doesn’t need to help him but definitely welcomed the aid since apparently the situation was pretty bad), because in fighting, she can remain useful, in her own words. Skadi insists she hurry back to Rhodes Island, to which Specter says it’s pointless, because equipment on the surface simply cannot help her, only keep her alive, so she takes her sweet time fighting alongside Misery, and Skadi and Gladiia (the latter reluctantly) join.

She allots some more of her time to having a proper talk with Closure, answering as many questions as she can, both about herself and about Closure, but mainly, what she wanted to say was “do not change the way I’m treated. You know me as Specter, you have protocols around the Operator Specter. Retain them. I have to go.”

She talks with a very concerned Skadi and an unflinching but still upset Gladiia, but she already had time with them on the way back. The final person she wanted to talk to before her brain gave out again? Doctor. Explicitly because she predicted Closure and Doctor may take more care on her handling, maybe remove her from combat operations in order to more closely monitor her condition. This is exactly what she didn’t want.

Because end of the day, Laurentina is a Hunter. She finds it difficult to speak as surface dwellers do, she finds it almost nonsensical, and so, she demands, “Keep me in the fight, Doctor. We do not need words, we need only you having a clear objective and me, my orders. If you put me in a bed and out of the battlefield, you are denying me the last shred of identity I can cling on”.

Because she couldn’t sculpt, she couldn’t sing, she couldn’t even control her own body, if she was even conscious. The only thing that she could do to cling to being who she was...

...Is to at the very least be pointed towards an enemy to fight them, and pointed towards an ally to protect them.

Skadi believed Laurentina had died prior to the events of the game because this isn’t the first time she had done this: In order for the 3rd Squadron to advance towards Ishar’mla, the 2nd Squadron, Gladiia and Laurentina’s, practically sacrificed themselves covering for the 3rd.

She never blamed Skadi, and makes sure she knows it. She didn’t mind doing it again now, either. “Point me at the one I have to cut, put the ones I need to keep safe behind me, and give the order. Even if am completely lost in the darkness of my mind and madness of my heart, that, that will never leave me. That’s proof that I am Specter, that I am Shark, and that I am Laurentina. I, namely, I.”

As far as she knew, these were the last words she’d ever get out as herself. She used to make it very clear: “Do not deny me the only bit of purpose and identity I have left, because even if I am but a shell of myself, I’m still me.”

Of course, we now know that this was not to be her final fate, and she did manage to regain control, decisively, eventually, but... As far as she and Skadi and Doctor knew, at this point, this was really, really it. The briefest of encounters with the real Specter, on borrowed time. And her intent? To make sure she’s not left to rot in a medical room where she’s useless, gathering dust: “Put even more danger upon my share”. You know you are dealing with a seriously terrifying and strong person when they can confidently tell you (and have verifiably, so far, done as much) that even if it’s just a shell of her former self out there, she can and will never stop doing exactly what she’s good at, because otherwise, at that point, she truly has left the world.

#arknights #specter #shark thoughts this night #3 am gn

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btsbabe7 · 5 months

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November Prompt 21: Crisp Air

Words: 905 | Pairing: Neville Longbottom x reader

In the distance, you can make out Neville’s frame hunched on a bench in front of the main greenhouse. Thick brown vines trailing across the giant frosted windows hug the structure behind him and the morning horizon peeks just beyond it. The view is breathtaking, but you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him.

Your close footsteps draw his attention from the book in his hands and up towards you. His thick brown hair is blowing in the soft morning winds and he shoves his book away, immediately coming off the bench to greet you with a warm smile. His gloved hands rest on your cheeks and he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, warming you more than you’d been with your hands shoved inside your coat pockets on the walk over. When he pulls away, his ocean blue eyes gaze into yours and you get lost in them until the crisp morning air rushes over the both of you. The moment you shiver against him, he reaches into his bag for the extra greenhouse keys he’d managed to get from Professor Sprout at the beginning of the year.

“Next class isn’t due til noon, so we have plenty of time to study,” he grunts while pushing the heavy door open with his shoulder. With a sigh, he turns back toward you, following your lead after you step inside. Shortly after, he locks the door from the inside. “But I don’t understand why you want to study dittany, we’re far more advanced than that.”

You take in the warmth of the greenhouse. All the sunlight that seems to have disappeared over the week has been absorbed inside the frosted glass walls. Everywhere you turn there’s plant pots, soil and fertilizer bags or some green herb growing lushly. It makes you smile, makes you happy to be able to witness life in this form when everything outside of here is withering away and growing colder with winter fast approaching.

You peel your coat off, then your gloves and scarf and earmuffs and toss them on the only empty table you can find before turning to see your boyfriend’s look of confusion.

“Come on, Nev,” you purr softly. “Warm me up a bit?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip the moment he slips out of his coat and drops everything on the ground before scurrying to you. Neville steps in front of you, allowing his fingertips to curl against the hairs at the nape of your neck before pulling you into an open-mouthed kiss.

He’s gotten loads more attention now due to his changing looks, but you’ve had the real luxury of watching him grow older over the years. His puffy cheeks were the first to go, eventually rounding out into a sculpted, chiseled jawline and soon after, his body had done the same, leaving him with nothing but pure muscle that threatened to tear through the white button up he’d failed to replace. And though he had many physical changes, his kindness and courage and care for you always remained, and that’s what you love most.

You hop on top of the table, shaking a few pots in the neighboring potting tables which gains a laugh from the both of you. And once you’ve steadied yourself, you glide your hands over his, which had dropped to your waist during your kiss. Then, you trail up his wrists and slowly over his biceps until you reach his shoulder blades. You work your fingers tenderly into the knots that always form there and he grunts loudly in relief.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” You moan. “Carrying all the plant pots for the first years?”

He bows his head in shame, knowing that he told you he’d stop two weeks ago.

“You know how heavy those pots can get, Y/n, and they’re so small. It reminds me of us seven years ago,” he admits.

“Nev, you promised. It’s admirable, truly, but you’re neglecting your own body.”

“I can handle it,” he whispers and leans in closer, looking you straight in the eyes with a smirk. “Besides, I have you to rub out all the kinks and knots.”

You scoff softly before giggling against his touch and pulling him closer. He rests his head against your shoulder, his breath steadying against rhe goosebumps that have prickled across your skin.

“Y/n?” He breathes.

“Mhm?”

“I want you to stay with me over the break,” he answers, pulling back to see the clear excitement and nervousness on your face.

In all the years of dating, he’d never asked, and during the times you’d begged him, he always said he didn’t want to intrude on you and your time with your family; though, he didn’t even have his own anymore.

“Yes. Yes! Of course I’ll come, Nev,” you exclaim and rest your hands against his collarbones.

“Y/n,” he says again and you gaze up into his eyes once more. “I’m absolutely head over heels in love with you.”

You blush hard as he brushes your tears away and pulls your lips back against his. In that kiss, you both make a silent vow to never abandon each other. And that vow, in a world where anything can be frigid and crisp on the outside, having the ability to lean on each other for warmth whenever you may need it feels absolutely amazing, just as love should.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

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hxltic · 9 months

Note

Just read like all of ur stuff and it’s so gooood! Saw ur post abt price ideas and what about one where he keeps pictures of you, sure there’s the cute ones but then there’s the spicy ones that he keeps as well and you find out but you’re not mad ikykik;))

You and Price have always had a healthy relationship; somehow always back and forth with harmless banter like an old couple, but the chivalry never seems to die. He was the sweetest thing, so sweet it seemed fake. Just like the movies.

The both of you would wake up and brush your teeth, the feeling so surreal in the morning you wouldn’t be surprised if a camera crew popped out of nowhere. You would make sure to make breakfast as he worked in his office.

The technology he used was so advanced, it hurt to look at the three widescreen monitors curved around the desk with several different screens and tabs pulled up. You just rest the plate beside him and lean down to peck him. He had his glasses on for work with papers stacked elsewhere.

And despite being focused, he will never deny your lips. He habitually leans up to find them. The brush of his perfectly sculpted facial hair never gets old.

Like you said, everything was so nice. Sometimes you worked out in the garden. Other times, you read a book or did pilates in the sunroom. Whenever you finished, your husband would either locate the bathroom and hug you from behind, his large biceps encasing almost your entire frame; or come in the bedroom and manually lay you out along the bed. His rough hands would treat you delicately, folding skin and tissue for a well-needed massage. God, you were spoiled.

Life was good. With no kids too? You were his one and only. His main priority.

And don’t even mention when you both go out for dinner. The dress you wear sculpts your body just right, your pretty breasts on display for him all night. He comes around the hood to open the car door for you, plus have his large hand awaiting yours patiently. A soft smile with his tight eyes leads you out of the vehicle.

Your heels clank along the pavement until the valet directs the car away, his arm wrapped around your waist until it disconnects to hold the wide restaurant door open for you. You kiss his cheek on your way in while attempting not to smudge the red on his face.

Once you sit, you go to place the strap of your purse along the back of the chair. He offers to hold it on his side for you.

“Hello and how is everyone doing on this fine evening,” the waiter starts, “My name is Jack and I will be serving you both today.”

Jack passes out the menus and John plucks it to read. He slightly squints without his glasses, but only a little. You smile at the observation.

“Is there anything special going on today?” Jack glances between the two of you.

“Not necessarily,” John shifts and gestures to you politely, “dinner with my lady.”

Sometime later Jack finally leaves, leaving you and your husband. You admire the place around you and the atmosphere. It was warm inside with low lighting, a flickering candle and a centerpiece being the only thing separating you two but a large chandelier decorating the ceiling. A plus about being married to him is that you two definitely weren’t low on money. And with no kids, he had no problems spending it.

You two talk like normal. It was so comfortable: your spot in life, your relationship with him, the environment knowing there’s a trained man by your side—you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Sometimes he’ll just gaze at you with pure delight, and the sight makes you smile back at him.

“What?” you blush and your face brightens.

“You’re a beauty.” he replies. He was taking a mental picture with the perfect lighting, your done hair, beautiful eyebrows, eyes, dress, everything about you. And on top of that, the necklace from the day you got married rested just above your breasts.

. .

After dessert, you conversed with him until the waiter returned. Suddenly, he gently takes the napkin and rests it on the table.

“I’ll be right back; have to go the restroom.”

You nod patiently as he arises and proceeds to walk on. He halts beside your seat and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?”

You nod again, but just in case it wouldn’t suffice, a soft “yes” falls from your lips. You know that you’re the happiest thing to happen to him, and he’d be damned if something from his own profession took that away. His head slightly dips affirmative before he fishes out his wallet and holds it to you.

You really were just going to wait until he came back, but this was better. You take it from him and flip it between your fingers to keep you occupied.

Dinner with him was so good you never even thought about your phone. And in the slim chance you did, it would make you feel bad or improper to use it. Of course he wouldn’t mind if you took a glimpse or shot a quick message, but it’s just your mental.

Jack comes around with the check, and just as quick as he came, he left. In the other hand there was a hot plate of food.

You skim the thin paper and make sure everything was calculated correctly. Your fingers unfold the black, leather wallet currently in your hands, then search for the card you notice he always picked on this occasion.

Your nails proved a problem in retrieving it from its pocket but it doesn’t stop you. You slip it behind the clear plastic of the book.

Jack comes back around.

You could wait for John to sign it, but it would take longer, so you decide to just sign it anyway. Was it illegal? Maybe.

Once the final receipts in the book are placed in front of you, you receive the card, slide it back in its previous position, then sign the tip off.

Your bag was across the table, but you trusted the security of the restaurant. So instead, you unfold the wallet and look around.

His I.D, Driver’s license, military registration stuff, A line of cards, some cash, and a picture. Of you. You’re in the sun smiling, the picture hazy and the glow on your face bouncing off your eyes. You wore a pretty sundress.

You try your best to pull it out without disturbing anything else, and when you do, you almost gasp in the restaurant when it unfolds.

There was a long list of them, some more innocent than others. And when you finally realize just how non-innocent the others were, a red flushes across your cheeks, accompanying the blush you had already put on.

One was in the lingerie you bought for his birthday. Another was you both at the bar, but only you were in the picture, the dress high on your thighs and a drink pulled up to your lips flirtatiously. That one wasn’t that bad, especially compared to the one right under it.

It was taken from behind, your arch on display. Obviously you had no clothes on—though you couldn’t see much but your loose hair, your back, only a hint of under-boob pressed into the bed sheets, and his single ring-adorned right hand holding on to yours. the picture cut off down about three fourths of your back.

Your left hand was gripping onto the sheets for life.

Your face wasn’t in it, and they were all pictures you had no problems with him taking, but the fact that he keeps them in his wallet is something you wouldn’t have thought of in a million years. Before you hold them out too long in a fancy restaurant, you fold them up and put it back.

You rest it on the table and sit your hands in your lap. Right on cue, he returns.

“Are you ready?”

He doesn’t bother to sit down and instead grabs your purse for you. He notices your quick movements and quietness. He’s picked up attentive habits being in the forces so long, so he can’t ignore how red you are. He places your bag on the table.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly. Your chin lifts with his thumb on it and another under.

“I’m okay,” you say, a lot lighter than usual. This prompts you to stand before he can get a good look at your countenance. He watches you move swiftly, then reaches for his wallet— but then it hits him like a truck.

In realization, he holds the wallet up and stares at it, then back at you. A cheeky grin grows on him, and he’s prepared to tease you for the rest of the day. It starts when you grab your purse and speed walk away, aware that he’s figured it out. He also knows you’ve been snooping.

. .

You get home, and once you thought he’d forgotten, you return to your bubbly self again. It only retreats when he’s on a knee, undoing the strap of your heels.

“Thank you baby. I love you,” you grin.

“Always. I love you too sweetheart,” he slides it off and massages your calf. “Love you so much I carry you around everywhere I go.”

You’re not sure if he did it on purpose, but your thoughts immediately trailed to earlier. You blush all over again.

He chuckles deeply as you now look away from him, but warm lips and a bit of his hair meet the slope of your foot.

©️ hxltic

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dawns-beauty · 4 months

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How to replace Skyrim NPCs with faces made in RaceMenu

(aka the method I used to make all my NPC overhauls)

This is an updated version of the tutorial from this post. I forgot a step originally.

Why use this method?

RaceMenu (RM) gives you a lot more creative freedom than simply editing NPC faces in the Creation Kit (CK).

Just installing RM gives you access to new sliders not found in unmodded Skyrim and you can install further slider mods (such as Expressive FaceGen Morphs, or Khajiit Character Creation Extended, etc.)

It also allows you to use Overlay mods (like DomainWolf's mod series or Freckle Mania 2) which give you many more options to layer warpaints or skin features and create a more detailed face.

Links are to the SE version of the mods, as that's what I'm most familiar with. They likely have LE counterparts.

Things you will need:

RaceMenu (and SKSE; be sure to get the correct versions of both for your game)

NifSkope - you will use this to open and edit the mesh. Here's GamerPoet's setup video

More Informative Console (especially if you're editing mod-added NPCs)

BSA Extractor (or similar mod that lets you open and extract BSAs)

Things I highly recommend:

Creation Kit Platform Extended for Skyrim - makes using the Creation Kit way less like pulling teeth

Unofficial Creation Kit Patch - if you're using AE

An alternate start mod - I like Dimes Quickstart for its simplicity, but any would work

Another Race Menu Rotation Mod - handy for seeing how the back of hairs look

Stand still in RaceMenu (OAR) - stops the character from wiggling out of frame

If you're looking to edit an NPC from an unplayable race (Elder, Child, etc.) you will likely need a mod that makes that race playable

Fun Stuff for diverse options:

Extra slider mods (I like Expressive FaceGen Morphs)

Skin Overlay Mods (for extra detailed faces)

If you want to get REAL funky with it, you can also use OutfitStudio to have a lot better time sculpting/getting super wild with assets, but that's too advanced for this tutorial (and my method is very 'goof around until it just works.'

I don't really want to cover using mod-added headparts (like eyes, hairs, etc.) There are basically two options there: add them as new headparts for your mod or make your mod dependent on the mod the headparts are from. The second way is probably simpler for beginners, but I definitely suggest installing Creation Kit Platform Extended, as it will allow you to load the other mods as masters without the Suffering™.

The Workflow

1. Design your character like you would a player character. For this example, I am redesigning Arcadia.

A recommendation: unless you really feel like you need to change it, it is typically better to make the Weight slider match the NPC's actual weight. You can see this value using either SSE Edit or the Creation Kit.

It is no big deal if you don't, but if you change the weight and load the mod into an already existing save you will get a gap between the NPC's neck and body (unless you use Save Unbaker.)

Be careful, though, there is a RaceMenu bug where if you load up RM again after exiting, it changes the weight by .01. So annoying.

For Skin Tone choice, if you do a custom skin tone (by pressing 'E' while hovering over the slider) I would recommend leaving the transparency slider (the 'A' value) at 100% (though I usually make the exception for Khajiit and Argonians.) This info will go into the Interpolation Value box in the CK, and the RM values can't be directly input, so you have to calculate the value with a (RM Number/255 = X/100, solve for X which is your Interpolation Value)

1a. If you are planning on adding faceparts from mods to your own plugin, I recommend saving and doing that now. Then come back to your save and change your headparts to the versions from your plugin. If you want to just have the other mods as masters, you can skip this.

2. Once you're satisfied with your design, I recommend saving your game and saving your head as a preset (click to enlarge):

3. Now, you will need to write down some stuff.

Skin Tone (RGB value):

Hover over Skin Tone slider. Press 'E'.

write down the R G B values (and A if you change it, see above note)

Even if you use a default skin tone, this is the best way to make sure you get the correct value for the CK.

Weight (number)

Scars (name) (if applicable)

Hair (name)

Facial Hair (name) (if applicable)

Eye Color (name)

Brow Type (name)

Writing down Hair Color is optional: with this method, the hair will inherit color from the head you export, not the CK value. Plus, RM's values are not really useful, because the default hair colors are named.

It's the same with the Face Complexion (wrinkles, etc), with this method it is exported with the head mesh.

4. Export the Sculpt:

It should end up in your SKSE folder (SKSE\Plugins\CharGen), wherever that is for you

5a. Method 1 (works for both Vanilla and Mod-added NPCs): get your NPC in front of you, either by console command (example with J'zargo):

~ help 'J'zargo'

then, using their RefID (the number that appears next to their name) type:

player.placeatme 0001C1A3

Or find them in-world.

With the mod More Informative Console installed, reopen the console (~) and click on them. Write down their BaseID.

5b. For Vanilla NPCs: close your game and search for your character's name on UESP and find their BaseID. Copy this number.

6. Open your BSA extractor of choice and Skyrim's data folder. Find the Skyrim - Textures0.bsa. Open with your BSA extractor, and paste the BaseID in the search box

Check the checkbox next to the main facegen file only and extract somewhere easy to find.

7. Repeat this process with the Skyrim - Meshes0 file.

8. Create a new mod folder. You can either make a mod directly in the mod organizer (MO2 lets you right click in the left pane -> All Mods -> Create Empty Mod Above) or on your desktop.

Cut and paste the 'textures' and 'meshes' files you just extracted into your mod folder. If you are installing it via archive, go ahead and zip and install the folder.

9. Now open the Creation Kit. Use the folder icon to load your masters.

Pick Skyrim, Update, DLC (if applicable), and any other mods you want to be masters for your mod (for eyes, hairs, etc.) If you've made your plugin already for headparts, just load it up.

10. In the Object Window, expand the Actors -> Actor -> Actor tabs and now you have a lot of tabs with Race names. Find the race your NPC belongs to then open the appropriate gender tab. Alternatively, you can just search the character's name in the searchbox.

11. Find your NPC's name and double click. This opens their Actor window, which is where you will use all the data you wrote down.

If you want a preview of their face, tick the box at the bottom of the window.

For weight adjustments: go to the Traits Tab. For all other values you need to worry about for this tutorial, go to the Character Gen Parts.

So, to parse this: you can ignore the Face Tint Layers box and pretty much everything on the left side of the screen.

Face Tinting Color

Type in your values for R G and B (you can ignore the Preset dropdown completely.) The Interpolation value corresponsed to the 'A' value, so unless you are working on Khajiit or Argonians, it will probably always be 1.

Base Head Parts

To change stuff in this section, click the line you want to change then go down to the dropbox below it and change it to what you want Face - unless you're using something like High Poly Heads, you can ignore this Everything else in this box: change to what you wrote down for each

Additional Head Parts

This is mainly used for scars and functions a little differently. To add a scar, you need to go to the Object window again. You can expand the Character tab and click 'HeadPart' then search the name of the scar you want. Click and drag the line with your scar into the Additional Head Parts box and it should show up there.

12. Once you've got the above like you want it, hit 'Ok', save your plugin. Now, to make the next step a little easier, you can click the NPC name in the Object Window again and hit f4.

This will export the meshes/textures file folders to the mod you just made in step 8.

Go ahead and exit the CK now

13. Go your your files exported from the last step. Open a second window from the files you exported from SKSE.

Open both meshes in two separate NifSkope windows.

If your SKSE head has a weird broken neck mesh like above, that's not a problem and can be ignored.

You absolutely must make sure your headparts match the head you exported from RaceMenu exactly, or you will get the dreaded dark face bug.

Now, you will need to find the Head textures in the head you exported from the CK. If your NifSkope is set up like mine, it should look like this:

Copy this line and paste it into the SKSE head in the same slot.

Save the SKSE NifSkope and close.

14. Rename the SKSE files (both .dds and .nif) to the number your exported heads are. You can then copy and paste your your SKSE files to their respective folders in your step 8 mod folder:

the .nif file goes in meshes/actors/character/FaceGenData/FaceGeom/[name of plugin]

the .dds file goes into textures/actors/character/FaceGenData/FaceTint/[name of plugin]

And now you're ready for testing! At this point I also recommend taking a second and converting your plugin to an ESPFE via SSE Edit. It's pretty simple and there are tutorials out there.

Scully, you're not gonna believe this.

#skyrim #skyrim mods #skyrim modding #my tamriel now #mod tutorial

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qiwoomi · 1 year

Text

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ MOONLIGHT SERENADE ˚｡⋆ ༘˚✧

masterlist

featuring: husband! alhaitham x fem! reader

genre: fluff, domestic, modern! au, married life (not proofread)

summary: in a night full of doubt and worry, the moon will never miss to cease those feelings away.

You have been acting weird ever since Alhaitham is home, and he didn't know why.

He recalled his interaction with you before he was off to work.

You were clinging to him like a koala, not wanting to let go. As much as he wants to stay, he explained to you that he already had too much day offs that he can't oblige to your request anymore, unless he don't mind being unemployed. Nonetheless, you are understanding enough (even though it takes you a lot of willpower to let go) as you pout, fixing his necktie and eventually receiving and giving your husband a goodbye kiss.

So what could it be?

Alhaitham thinks that it would be impossible for you to sulk after seeing you off, as he knows your personality a little too much (and possibly more than you are).

Moreover, if you were, you would still talk to him, but rather with a visible pout and a subtle frown, trying to convince him to ask you why you were upset. But this time, you neither talk or look at him.

It didn't help that Alhaitham had been looking forward to come home to you, his work as a professor in the Akademiya draining him. To his disappointment, he came home without you running up to him as you shower him with kisses and hugs like you always do.

He was not the type to give up, especially when it's about you. After a whole brainstorming session in the shower, he concludes that it would be better to communicate with you.

His needs for your affection and love taking over his patience.

"Love? Are you asleep?" He languidly approaches you, sitting on his side of the bed. He just finished showering, towel hanging low around his waist.

You purposely turn your back from him beforehand, knowing you, you wouldn't be able to continue ignoring him if you were to be face to face with his sculpted and toned body (despite being married to him for almost 4 years).

You didn't reply.

Being a smartass that he is, your husband knew that it was on purpose. Alhaitham however, takes this as a challenge.

Two can play that game. A sly smirk was plastered on his face as he approached you closer.

You tried to convincingly look like you're sleeping, not wanting to get caught with your act. You can already imagine the endless teasing that comes out of his mouth.

The mattress was squished as Alhaitham advances towards you.

You can feel his breath in your face. If only you knew, Alhaitham can see through your facade. Though, he decides to indulge in your little play, despite being deprived of your attention. There's always room for a little fun. Besides, he knew you couldn't keep it up for too long.

Your husband stares at you for a good few minutes, admiring you at the same time. Unfortunately, the long silence makes you snort. As you opened your eyes, only to see your only and one husband with an amused smile on his face. "Are you done?" He scoffed, a grin still visible on his pretty face.

Somehow still not giving up, you swiftly turned your back to him. Little did you know, you can't stay mad at him for a long time, not when it's him. It almost felt like he's a witch. A witch that knows every spells to woo you, to melt you into his heart.

If this is a fantasy story, you're sure that you wouldn't even survive a second after encountering him. No. Not when you wear you heart on your sleeve. Perhaps the words of the elders are true, love can be blinding, addicting even. But how could you refuse the temptation to welcome him into the doors that is your heart, when he's the one who brings you warmth, joy and even home?

As if reading your mind, he suddenly says, "Fine. I'm sorry love, I came back late again. Will you please talk to me?" Even though you can't see his face, you can already imagine the frown and pout on his face. "Hm. What's the magic key?" You mischievously replied, finally facing him again. There's a glint in his eyes, indicating that he already knew the answer.

Alhaitham pulls you into him, not even hesitating, as he search for your eyes. It's as if he's communicating through his teal eyes, shifting his gaze towards your lips, inching closer. He kissed you, albeit too passionate, giving you a clue or even a message. That he has been missing you, perhaps more than you could imagine. The kiss lasted for a few minutes, between the kiss is the smiles from both lovers.

Both of you pulled away, catching your breath. You flushed, feeling giddy like a teenager falling in love. "Sorry, it was just a prank. I'm not mad at you love." You suddenly said, filling the silence.

Alhaitham brushed your bangs out of your face, tucking them behind your ears. "Don't ever do that again, I feel miserable." He replied bluntly, pinching your nose. An endearing laughter comes out of your mouth, as he finds himself smiling at you.

"In one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to make up for the whole time you've been away."

"You don't even have to ask for it. It's already in my mind anyway."

The moonlight shines through the blinds of your shared bedroom, as if a blessing towards lovers as you both retired for the night.

There is nothing you can ask for than this.

author's note: this has been in the draft for quite a while 🥲 currently going through an alhaitham brainrot

est. 080323

do not copy, translate and repost my work.

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #genshin impact x reader

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black-is-iconic · 9 months

Text

Midnight Lovers

Chapter one : Unspoken Desires

A loud thwack echoed through the air and suddenly your surroundings were shifted, now standing in what looked looked like a blue tinted room, although it could hardly be describe as such, in fact it almost looked like you were still inside the forest, only more…beautiful. It was like a room had merged with nature and taken on a blue tint, it had no discernable boundaries just endless forest and beautifully sculpted furniture scattered about. the floor was covered in lush grass, purplish blue light rains down on you from the cloud ceiling roof above casting the entire space into an ethereal glow. It was quiet and peaceful except for the muffled noises of a babbling brook, you hardly had time to take it all in as he swiftly walked over to a bed, placed you down and snuggled up behind you.

The warmth of his chest bleeding through his shirt was heavenly, his hands respectfully stayed glued to your stomach no unwanted advances were made against you, it was just…soothing, so safe. It was hard to tell who was comforting who, but eventually you fell asleep peacefully nestled comfortably in his arms with the sound of the stream drifting in the background.

And so would start your strange new life with the four clone brothers, with Aizetsu swiftly becoming your favorite with how kind, gentle and attentive he was to you. You quickly grew to love him more than the other clones who were chaotic and unpredictable, unlike Karaku who had wandering hands and a lustful eye and Urogi who was Impulsive, boisterous and rough Aizetsu was always calm, polite and caring.

Every night, (you quickly grew accustomed to their nocturnal behaviors) there was a warm meal prepared for you, a new kimono and he'd even offer to help you style your kinky [H/L] hair or massage any stress or aches from your body with his own gentle touch. For a demon he's quite….compassionate to you at least, you'd seen him snap at his brothers every now and then and it was evident he wasn't above violence…just never towards you.

Today however, you got stuck with Sekido. Out of the four clone brothers he was the most….mysterious, he never once tried to interact with you, and only really came out of his room when they had a mission or to yell at his brothers. But you really didn't see too much of him, and you weren't sure whether it was because he didn't like interacting with humans other than well…..eating them or some other reason but it was clear as day that he didn't really like you or want to be around you.

Curiosity bubbled up within you as he sat beside you in silence while burying his face in a book, you were more than aware he felt your burning stares but he didn't make any motion to acknowledge you, instead he continued to stare resolutely at the page. So against your better judgement, your body moving before your mind can fully comprehend what you're doing, you reach out and place your hand gently upon his shoulder feeling the hardened muscles beneath your fingertips tense as his beautiful scarlet pools of molten fire bore into your soul with such intensity it made your heart thump wildly in your chest. You wanted to apologize, to squirm away but the intensity of his gaze pinned you in place. After what seemed hours, the heat of his fiery gaze finally subsided leaving the tingling sensation of cold sweat on your skin to remain. "What do you want human?" His voice deep, rough, and gravelly sounding. You swallowed thickly at the question, and cleared your throat "I….um……sorry" you muttered averting your gaze "I…wanted…..uh..to know….what book you're reading" as those string of words fell from your lips he seemed to stiffen ever so slightly, you took note of it as he turned to look at you, a long moment passed before he replied, "plants" allowing silence to once again reign as there was no further explanation.

He gave a slight nod and licking his thumb flicking a page, "plants?" You echoed his words and he scowled quietly as he continued staring blankly into the book. His brows creased together, and his eyes narrowed to slits he unconsciously fidgeted whenever there was noise from outside, meaning you. Taking a deep breath your palm danced along your forearm as the air thickened in awkwardness, with a long exhale you tried to speak but he beat you it.

"Aizetsu has just just returned, you can leave now" he stated in a bored tone without sparing you a glance. His voice sounded tired and defeated as if something had deeply upset him, your body flinched at the tone of his voice. Your mouth opened slightly at his abrupt response but before you could form a reply, he snapped his book shut startling you slightly as he swiftly rose to his feet. Kimono flowing gracefully around his lithe figure as he stalked passed you to disappear out of sight, you sheepishly followed despite every aspect of your body screaming 'no! Don't follow him! He's dangerous!' But you couldn't deny your curiosity, after all, he was one of your…. masters? Owners? It wasn't exactly clear yet what you were to them yet, but that's besides the point. You wanted to know more about him, and the fact that he went out of his way to avoid you at all cost only fed your insatiable curiousty.

So you trailed behind him in the bending him slowly trying carefully to place your foot to conceal any sound, but he turned to you with a arched brow and you ran smack dab into his muscled chest. Causing you to stumble back a bit his hands caught you by the waist and steadied you, "what do you want go away, I already told you Aizetsu has returned if you're looking for the other two idiots. They got stuck in the sunrise so they had to seek shelter in a cave," he mumbled turning around but your fingers grasped the sleeve of his kimono halting his actions.

"I-I"the words died on your tongue as he stared straight ahead avoiding any form of eye contact with you. Your heart sank in disappointment and sadness, why is he so difficult to talk to?! "I want to spend time with you and get to know you" the words spilled from your lips like water flowing freely, pouring forth in a cascade "I'm sorry I kept asking questions but I'm just really curious about you".

His eyes widened slightly as though surprised with your admission, "W-why would you want to do that?" He asked sounding genuinely confused, doubtful, angry, hesitant, and just a little bit…..hopeful? His expression faltered momentarily revealing the small glimpse of vulnerability and shyness, for a moment you got a glance into the depths of his soul, a rare glimpse which left you breathless.

He was…a lonely man yearning for companionship, for acceptance. This thought alone caused your heart to clench in sympathy, but as quickly it came his true mask slid back over his emotions hiding whatever emotion he had been having, replaced by cold indifference.

He swiftly turned away from you with a deep scowl, grumbling something under his breath "if that's what you wish" he whispered so softly that you barely catch it, as he swiftly strode across the vast room, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the cavernous room. He walked towards a door, two large doors with gold riming's and crimson wood carved into intricate designs, he pushed one open revealing a dark room. His room was very traditional with Japanese style décor, red silk carpets decorating the floor, an intricate cherry blossom canopy hanging from the ceiling concealing a large cozy bed with it's transparent red curtains framing it. A fireplace adorned the wall near the bed, an incense holder rested atop it sending out a sweet fragrant scent that instantly calmed your nerves as it filled the room with a pleasant aroma, cherry mahogany wood furniture decorated the space giving off an atmosphere of sophistication and tranquility. He walked over to the chair seated in front of the fireplace taking a seat and kicking off his sandals, your feet stayed firmly planted outside the room as you watched him from afar. The fire cast a warm glow around the room and on him. and he leaned over the cushy chair arching a brow, "well are you waiting for an invitation?" He growled but there was a certain underlying note of tenderness, you excitedly scampered over to him planting yourself by his feet resting against the chair. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you watched his hands twitch along his thighs, every now and then moving in your direction only to change direction at the last moment to preform some small gesture.

After the third movement of his hand, you kinda caught into what he wanted or at least you thought you did. Slowly your hand drifted towards his slowly brushing against his hand until you grasped it, his hand flinched at first but after a few seconds he relaxed.

The warmth radiating between your hands, comforting as you rested your head on his leg, but to your surprise his other hand snaked over your waist gingerly pulling you and situating you on his lap. He never once made eye contact with you but his muscular arm rested loosely around your waist as he buried himself in a book.

It might've been the light of the fire but you swear you could see the smallest of blushes adorn his cheek, "whatcha reading" you murmured quietly and his eyes dropped down to your and once again you were trapped staring into those infinite pools of ruby flame, causing the butterflies residing in your stomach to flutter around wildly making you feel dizzy and light headed, his hand twitched slightly but stayed firm around your waist, with a light sigh he lowered the book in front of you.

Pulling you flush against his back and holding the book open so you could read along if you chose, you happily snuggled back into his warmth and he rested his head atop of yours….this is nice….

#kny x reader #sekido x reader #hantengu clones #black reader

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