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#john wick imagines
multific · 11 months
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Obsession
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Vincent De Gramont x Reader
Summary: He had one obsession, you.
Vincent liked the finer things in life.
Food, drinks, clothes, cars our houses, it didn't matter.
To him, quality was the most important.
He became so rich that now he was at a point where he didn't even have the time to spend it. 
He was obsessed with fine things. He loved his suits, had a nice collection of only the best.
He was obsessed with cars, old-timers and newer models both parked in his garage. 
Vincent was obsessed with his job, it gave him authority, something he always craved.
But lately, his obsession was you.
You being just a normal woman he saw one day, he was confused as to just why he found you to be so enticing.
There was something about you, something he couldn't quite figure out.
He found it weird how a man of his status found himself completely taken by a simple woman.
He wanted to know everything. He needed to know everything.
And he needed to have you. 
You were quick to learn that Vincent wasn't the sweet Prince type. Oh, far from it actually.
He was dangerous.
The moment you met him you knew this. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up as soon as you saw him. 
He was a walking red flag. 
But just why did you not run? Why did you find yourself intrigued by him? Why did you say yes every time he whispered sweet things into your ear? 
And just why did he have to have that sexy accent?!
The man was a walking red flag, yes, but aparently you were colourblind because you ignored it all. 
He was rich, elegant, sexy and dangerous. Truly an awful mix but what could you do?
Your first date was on top of the Eiffel Tower, he rented the entire thing out, just for the two of you.
You tried to figure out if he was romantic or if he just knew how to woo a woman. 
Maybe both.
Because when later that night, he dropped you off at yours, he kissed all the way from your shoulder to your neck, making you see stars as he whispered 'You are mine' in the most possessive and sexy way a man could.
Your insides were screaming at you, both from fear and arousal.
Why did he have to be so handsome on top of it all?
It would have been so much easier if he just rude but no, of course not, he had to be a gentleman.
It wasn't until a couple of months of dating that you saw his scary side.
One late afternoon, you went to his office while he was on the phone, he failed to notice you as he yelled into the phone the scariest things one could hear.
Promises of torture and a slow death, his gaze and body language said it all, he wasn't lying.
When he was done, due to anger he smashed the phone to the ground and this is when he noticed you as you jumped a little. 
Your eyes locked with his as he cursed at himself in French.
You long forgot why you were in there in the first place.
"I have never seen you so angry, Vincent."
"Mon Amour, I'm so so sorry that you had to see me like that. I prom-"
"Do it again." you said cutting him off as he suddenly froze. 
He didn't expect for you to say that, you didn't expect to say that to be fair. He thought you would run and hide or yell at him to never ever look for you.
But you didn’t.
"Something about the anger, you are always so collected and calm for most of the time. Even when you saw the guy flirting with me at the bar, you have never even raised your voice."
"Did you find it... exciting?"
"Yes." your answer was simple and immediate. “Do it again, Vincent.”
“Mon Amour,” He smirked, he knew you would be perfect.
Vincent truly found his other half in you. His obsession turned into love but his possessive tendencies never faltered. 
Even if you were only a simple woman with a boring job, you had no idea of the power you held in your hands, you had the great Marquis wrapped all around your little finger.
And on the other hand, you had the most expensive diamond wrapped around your ring finger.
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johnwickb1tsch · 5 months
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John Wick x You │Tarasov's Daughter
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You are the eldest daughter of Viggo Tarasov. You’re smart enough to take over the family business, but you’ve always been overlooked because you’re a girl (their loss). But John Wick sees you. In fact he saw a lot of you, once, when he’d been your bodyguard for a brief time during a turf war back in the day. You’re not sure who seduced who really, but you’ve never forgotten the feeling of his big hands digging into your hips or his teeth in your shoulder while he fucked you against the marble top of your bathroom sink, watching you go to pieces for him in the mirror. Maybe he was even your first! You seethed with jealousy when you heard he left the Underworld to get married to a nice normal American lady and settle down in domestic bliss. You were actually allowed to DO that? No one in this life ever really got out. You can’t help but think that you could have made him just as happy as some boring middle-aged photographer. Helen. What a stupid name. So when the shit hits the fan after your dumbass brother Iosef disrespects John Wick (and kills his dog, what the actual fuck?) you wonder if John will come after you.
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Pick your poison: Canon!John Wick │ Dark!John Wick │ Yandere!John Wick
18+, all the warnings, dead dove do not eat! Predator kink, size kink, kidnapping, dub-con, brat taming, dark!john, mean!John, yandere!John , jesus fucking crist tumblr u have broken me…🙃
Canon!John Wick
John doesn’t hurt women unless they are really REALLY giving him no choice (Looking at you, Perkins!). But you are the means to his end, so he doesn’t hesitate to take you for bait for Iosef and your father’s men. He is raw and back in full predator mode after taking a hiatus for five years. Of COURSE you piss him off, and when you try to escape he snaps. He still calls you moya milaya printcessa (my sweet princess)tho while he fucks you against the wall with his hand on your throat. When the idiots your father employs do finally come for you John kills them all, and your brother, and your uncle after taking back his car. He lets you go, and a part of you forever wishes that he’d kept you…
Dark!John Wick
You were always such a fucking brat back when he had to watch over you, and finally he can get his revenge. When you mouth off he undoes his tie and uses it to gag you, something he’s always wanted to do, and as you watch him whip off his belt with such calculated flourish you are practically sliding off your chair. He bends you over his knee, the way someone should have a long time ago, and he taunts you when he finds you’re soaking with slick in between whipping you. Is it just you, or is he not hitting you half as hard as he could tho? You don’t know and you don’t care, you’re 98 percent sure you’re not getting out of this alive, so you at least want to die having had his magnificent manhood inside you one last time. You are delirious by the time he soothes the welts on your ass with the light touch of his fingers. “Are you going to be my good little girl now?” he demands as he tosses you on the bed like you’re just a ragdoll. Like he wants to hear your reply, he removes his tie from your mouth.
“If you fill me up with that big beautiful cock of yours.”
He laughs at you, and you get the feeling he’s delighted by your sass, even in this cruel mood. “You don’t get to make the demands anymore, milaya.” He slaps your thighs apart and goes down on you, licking you relentlessly, bringing you to the edge again and again but never letting you cum.
“Please, please, please,” you beg and tears stream down your face as finally you watch him undo his pants. He has utterly broken you.
“You always were such fucking whiner,” he hisses, pulling your hair hard as he plunges himself inside your swollen cunt. You hate him for how good it feels as he fills every last inch and corner of you, and if you ever get your hands free you’re so going to make him pay for this.
Yandere!John Wick
John always carried a torch for you, but you were so off limits. The boss’s daughter. A sure death sentence, but it almost would have been worth it. He’d thought about you constantly for a good long while, your beauty and your body was burned into his brain, but then he met Helen, and that fire smoldered to red hot coals he kept in the back room of his twisted black heart. But when Iosef starts shit there is absolutely nothing to stop him from taking what he’s always wanted. He’ll make you his perfect little pet, one last bit of revenge against the Tarasovs for disrespecting him after all he’d done for them.
When you see him materialize from the shadows in the mirror behind you, you try to go for the gun you keep in the top drawer of your vanity. You’re half certain he’ll kill you for it, but you’re y/n Viggovna Fucking Tarasov, and you will not fucking beg like your little bitch of a brother undoubtedly did. You’re not surprised when he manages to disarm you in the blink of an eye. You wait for the blade in your throat or the gunshot in your gut but he just holds you in those inexorably strong arms, looking down at you with those burning dark eyes. He’s so tall, he’s so much bigger than you and that always turned you on.
“You’re mine now, printcessa.”
You know you’ve always been his but you hate being helpless. He kisses you hard, unforgivingly, possessively, and you try to bite him but he knocks you out with a headbutt. Ouch!
You wake up in a luxuriously appointed room that you just know in your gut is now your new prison. Wick is no fool. There are digital locks on the doors. There are windows that you know will be unbreakable. Your hands are bound above your head, and though you try to worm free it’s impossible. After a while John enters, straddling you on the bed. Even though your legs are free his weight pins you down, you are trapped, and you’re embarrassingly certain he can feel the heat that’s pooling between your legs for it. His face is covered in cuts, his knuckles are torn. He’s been through Hell, but he came out the other side, the way you begrudgingly knew he would. “Your family’s dead,” he tells you. “No one’s coming for you.” He doesn’t really seem to take any joy in it, his handsome face stoic as stone. “You belong to me now, and I hope your father rolls over in his grave every time I defile you.”
You try not to enjoy it while he rails you into the soft mattress, or when he touches you while he does it, his long fingers so exacting. He is a master of manipulating the human body, for pain or for pleasure. You think he makes you cum out of ownership over anything remotely tender, but he makes you see God so often it almost feels like he cares about you. He becomes your dark deity, the altar you worship on, even if just in the deepest depths of your heart. You still have some pride.
You still try to fight and still try to run, even though he punishes you every time. Maybe you’re made bold by the fact that he hasn’t killed you, where he killed everyone else. They were kind of assholes though. John kept you, after all, and you can’t fault his taste. You think he secretly loves the chase, maybe even admires you for fighting him when there really is no hope. He loves reminding you who is in charge though too, and on nights when he’s in a particular mood you know you won’t be able to sit without feeling it for a week.
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6lostgirl6 · 1 year
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yandere john wick with “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” he just gives off such over protective/possessive energyyy 🤭
Your Protector
Pairing: Yandere!John Wick x Fem!Reader
TW: Yandere themes, toxic themes, mentioned stalking, kidnapping, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, pet names, dubious kissing (at first), slightly suggestive. Reblogs are highly appreciated!!
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It was infatuation and obsession that drove him to take such drastic measures. Ever since he saw you, he was absolutely convinced that you were meant for him. His second chance at happiness and love since the passing of his wife, Helen.
It was also fear, fear that if he didn't kidnap you, you would be somehow hurt or even killed. John has spent many nights without sleep, worried over your safety. He knew that if he didn't take action, something was bound to happen.
You never met him before, never spoke with him, and it was a shock when he finally kidnapped you. A complete stranger. The last thing you could remember was walking home from another late-night shift and being grabbed from behind. In a millisecond, your mouth was covered by a cloth and your vision went black.
When you finally came to, you realized you did not recognize your surroundings. You were resting in a lavish guest room and you were still trying to wrap your brain around what was happening. While you were gathering your bearings, a man appeared. He was standing over you by the side of the bed.
"Good morning, sweetheart." The man said with a smile, greeting you in an affectionate tone. "I hope you slept well."
At first glance, he was a very attractive man and of great wealth. His towering stature, long black hair and wearing a seemingly expensive black tailored suit.
“Who are you?” You asked in fright, staring at him with wide eyes.
“W-What’s going on?” You scooted back against the headboard, trying to maintain some distance between you and the man. “What do you want?” You continued to stare at him, fearful of what he might do. 
His gaze held a disturbing mixture of kindness and menace as he looked down at you. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I just want to make sure that we're together. Forever."
“Who are you?” You were confused, having not ever met this strange man before in your entire life. You thought that this man was clearly delusional, could be mistaking you for someone else. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you could not understand the reasoning behind it. You needed to figure out who he is and hopefully find means of escaping. 
"I'm John Wick," he says simply, leaning over you. He has this strange, almost otherworldly quality about him that's difficult to explain. A sense of danger, but not necessarily violence. He's calm and collected, but you also feel the threat of his presence. It's like looking into the eyes of a predator, one who's just been waiting for the right moment to strike. It's terrifying, yet compelling at the same time.
Noticing your fear, he slowly moved to sit on the edge of the bed, bringing himself a little more to your level of height. However, he still continued to tower over you. With slight hesitation, he reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone. It's a gesture of familiarity and affection, yet there's a sense of darkness and danger to it.
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart." He said with a small smile, his intense dark-brown eyes locking onto yours. It was almost hypnotic, the way he was looking at you. Almost as if he truly knew you and for quite some time too. It left you feeling conflicted, complicated emotions infiltrating your heart.
His touch that was so gentle against your cheek, prompted your cheeks to grow a little warm. His affection was breaking down your resolve and leaving you quite nervous. Not nervous as if you were fearing for your life for feeling anxious, but rather the form of butterflies forming in your stomach and your heart in your throat. 
The warmth creeping onto your face seems to embolden John, and he leans in closer to you, his hand still resting on your cheek as the other trails its way down your thigh. He stared at you, his dark eyes taking in every detail of your appearance.
"You're so beautiful.” He whispers, his warm breath fanning across your face. There's an intensity to him that's almost frightening. He appeared like a wild animal, one that could snap at any moment. It was undeniable that there was something primal about him, something you can't help but be attracted to.
You couldn’t reply, unable to form any coherent sentences from the intensity and electrifying touch of his hand on your thigh. Slowly, you were feeling less uncomfortable but rather shy from his affectionate touches. However, your walls were starting to return when you remembered that you didn't even know this man.
“John…why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
"Because you're mine." He replied, his gaze was intense and there was undeniable heat in his voice. It was more than enough to make you feel a little dizzy. Almost as if you were falling into some dark abyss. There's no question that this man is dangerous, but you can't help feeling drawn to him. He exudes a primal, dangerous energy that is almost addictive, and you find yourself craving more of his attention and touch.”And I do know you, I know everything about you, (Y/N).”
You glanced towards the door, noticing that it was left open. Your logical side was screaming for you to wake up and understand that you were involved with something, someone, extremely dangerous. In that second, you were broken out of your spell. 
You hesitate before launching yourself from the bed in an attempt to escape.
John's smile fades as you attempt to flee, his expression turning dark and deadly. Without even seeming to move, he blocks the door, his body looming over you like a shadow of death. 
"Don't." He says, his voice low and dangerous. “You'll only make this harder for yourself, sweetheart." His eyes are cold and calculating, but there's also a strange desire behind them. 
One that's both terrifying and alluring.
With wide eyes, you backed away, feeling small in comparison to his looming figure and his predatory stance. The size difference between you two was incredible. You continued to keep your distance, placing yourself between furniture. 
With slow and deliberate steps, he follows you around the room, seemingly getting closer with each passing moment. He had the patience of an animal on the verge of a hunt. You can feel his eyes on you, tracking your every move. When he speaks again, his voice is calm, but there's something dangerous hidden beneath the surface. He's like a calm sea hiding the storm underneath. 
"You can't get away from me, sweetheart." He begins to move closer again, this time grabbing your wrist and holding it tight, his grasp like iron. "You belong to me."
“Yeah, right!” You struggled, trying to rip your wrist away from his grasp, he could only stare at you in slight amusement and anger. “I don’t belong to you or anyone! Nothing you will ever do will make me think otherwise!”
He raises an eyebrow and smirks at you, before he replies. 
"Alright then." 
Without warning, he pulls you towards him, kissing you passionately. His body is firm and strong, holding you tightly in his arms. His kiss is passionate and intense, like he's pouring all of his feelings and desires into it. The kiss was passionate and borderline possessive, trying to make you submit and accept him as your lover and protector. His grip around your wrist and waist is tight, becoming a little painful. You’re completely at his mercy and helpless in his arms.
You gasp from the sudden kiss, feeling intense emotions swirling within you and making your heart skip a beat. After a small moment, you began to return the kiss, thoughts of escaping melting from your mind. He also seemed to relax more into the kiss, it turning softer and loving, feeling that you were slowly but surely returning his affections. He pulls away after a moment, staring at you with a hungry and passionate gaze. 
"Are you convinced?" He asks, his voice low and husky, his gaze very heated and full of immense desire. He's still holding you tightly in his arms, not letting you go anywhere. He simply couldn't get enough of you. It's adamant that this animal has a lot of pent-up desire and passion. Now, he was looking forward to releasing it all onto you.  
"Y-Yes..." You muttered, your brain currently in a state of mush. You simply looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks warm from the intensity of his affections.
Slowly, he released your wrist, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing just underneath your eye. His touch was gentle and even a little soothing. He looked into your eyes, his heated stare now full of softness towards you. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” His voice, similar to his touch, was also full of softness. 
“Y-Yes…” Your resolve was completely demolished, he has successfully twisted your feelings around and made your heart scream out for more of his attention. Thoughts of finding a way to escape barely crossed your mind, your logical side slipping further away from your grasp. 
You simply didn’t care. 
"Good." He whispers, his voice was husky once more, full of want and desire for you.
With another powerful pull, he brings you into another kiss, one that is even more passionate than the first one. Knowing that you finally submitted left him with an animalistic excitement. He's hungry for you, almost starving for your touch and affection, and you can barely keep up with his ravenous desires. His excitement continued to grow, his grip on you tightening as he held you in his arms.  
"You're mine now, my love."  He continues, his eyes glistening with desire. 
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rosevette · 1 month
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·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist
𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.
1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑
୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose
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DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.
At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.
"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.
His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.
Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.
"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.
“I said no.”
His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.
“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.
“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips.
Before you knew it, his body already pressed against yours firmly, his weight leaning you against the flat surface of the wall, secluded in your room.
“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”
As John pressed you against the decorative wallpaper, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.
With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.
"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."
But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.
“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.
With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.
It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.
“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”
Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.
With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.
The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.
“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.
“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.
Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.
Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.
He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.
John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.
“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.
He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.
“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.
Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?
With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.
Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.
Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.
"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”
"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.
Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?
The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”
Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.
“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.
Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.
As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.
“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”
The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”
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the end ! part 3 in progress…
© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !
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michelle-is-writing · 1 month
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Help, John Wick
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Word Count: 2.8k~
Warnings: mention of gun fire, blood, injury, stitches
Working the evening shift sometimes proves to be a hassle, especially when I’m needed past midnight. On nights like these, I know as soon as I leave the hospital doors that I’m all alone in my somewhat safe city. The biggest issue in my city is the constant hidden dangers within it, as reported by the news many times. The attacks are always random, and the people are disguised, meaning no one can tell who is truly good or bad.
With the clock nearing 12:05, I’m finally able to clock out and head out of my hospital and to my car. On the way to my vehicle, I notice something weird about my driver side’s tires; they seem to be flat, but one has a knife stuck in it.
“What the…” my voice trails off as I look around my hospital’s parking lot, seeing maybe three or four other cars scattered throughout it. I’m already in a not-so-safe situation, and quite frankly, walking out alone late at night is not the best decision for someone like me to make.
Instead of risking my safety, I begin walking backwards to go back into the hospital before turning around, only to be knocked down on the ground by someone running into me from my left. As I fall with the person who rammed into me, my ears pick up distinct gunshots - something you hope to never hear when you’re leaving work late at night.
“Stay down!” A deep, gruff voice yells before the weight of the body on top of me is suddenly gone, and more gunshots ring out around me. Despite the pain from being slammed down, I still manage to shuffle away and get behind the bushes next to the pavement. It’s not the best cover, but it can at least help me figure out what the hell is going on right now.
Looking through the thick branches of leaves in front of me, I spot two people now revealed by the street lights as they shoot toward the entrance of the hospital. “Why would anyone shoot at a hospital?!” I find myself muttering before I jerk my head over to the doors. There stands a dark-haired man dressed in an all black suit, a pistol in his hands as well. Only two shots are fired from that pistol before all gunshots come to a stop, but before I have any time to process what has just happened, the man is running toward me. I’ve never seen him before, and he certainly doesn’t look like someone who could shoot two people in two clear shots. His face is even cast with concern as he nears the bushes I hide behind, a hand outreached for me.
“We need to go! Now!” He tells me, grabbing my hand before yanking me up from the ground and taking off. With his hand firmly gripping my hand, I’m left with no other choice but to run with him. Feeling my fight-or-flight instincts kick in, I recognize the rush of anxiety flowing through me as well as so much confusion. Why am I running with a man who just shot several men either wounded or dead? He’s obviously trying to help me, but who exactly is he trying to protect me from?
After running across the parking lot to a car parked in the shade, the man yells at me to get in, but as I near the passenger side door, I feel myself halt as time slowly passes around me. My body feels as if it’s stuck in honey, unable to move or do anything, and my mind doesn’t feel much better.
“Get in now!” The man yells one more time, fully snapping me out of my stupor and bringing my attention to the door handle of an older car as I open it before climbing in. Alongside me is the man falling into the driver's side, quickly turning the engine on before speeding out of the parking lot. Speeding lights pass all around me while my eyes fall to my arms and hands, a burning sensation taking over my limbs. My palms and elbows are scratched up from the fall, droplets of blood adorning the scrapes before leading down to the new holes on the knees of my scrub pants, crimson liquid beginning to show through there as well.
In this moment, as my brain now begins to process the oncoming stings and burns, I turn my head toward the man, finding him to be focusing every ounce of his attention on the road in front of us as he speeds way above the limit. “What just happened?” I ask him, my voice almost disturbing him from his focus as he slightly jolts in his seat. “What’s going on?”
He shakes his head, his long hair moving along with him as he seemingly ponders if he should answer my question or not. For a few seconds, he remains quiet before sighing and giving in. “It’s… hard to explain,” he starts, giving me a cautious glance before looking back at the road in front of him as he speeds through traffic. Between taking sharp turns and darting in between cars, I can’t help but grasp the door with all my might to keep me from going all over the place.
“A couple days ago, you treated a patient, a man who came in with a bullet wound directly below his heart,” The man explains, making me stare at him confused. I did have a patient come in with those exact issues, but he told us he was mugged and that’s why he was shot. Why would someone try to attack a mugging victim in the way they did?
“Well, the guy wasn’t exactly mugged, and the people who shot him thought you were helping out him and his… group,” he further adds, making my eyes widen in a mix of horror and confusion. “They didn't even know your name or anything about you and they still tried to put a hit on you, all because you helped him survive. He asked me to make sure nothing happened to you, said you were a sweet girl, and I promised him I would keep you safe,” he nods his head toward the road. “So, here we are.”
Despite his explanation definitely being… weird, I don’t question him any more about it, and instead, I ask him something else. “What’s your name?”
At my question, he gives me a wary glance before answering. “John,” he tells me, gaining a nod back from me.
“John, I think you got shot,” I inform him, my eyes falling to his bloody arm. It looks like the bullet either grazed or went completely through his arm, but nonetheless, it’s still bleeding like a gunshot wound.
John barely reacts, only nodding his head “I know,” he simply explains as if it were something simple and not a bullet wound. “I’ll take you somewhere safe until we know what the group is trying to achieve.”
His words barely register in my ears before I’m turning in my seat to shake my head at him. “No, no, we need to go to my apartment,” I urge him, and just as I expected, he begins to tell me it’s not safe. “But my dogs are there!” I quickly argue back, feeling my heart pound away in my chest.
In an instant, it’s like a flip in his head switches, and he gives me a small nod in response to my words. “Okay,” he simply mutters, “Show me how to get there.”
Arriving at my apartment, John parks the car way down my street before having us run up to my back gate and get in through there. By the looks of it, my apartment seems to be untouched, and after John does a quick run through, I’m able to let out a sigh of relief. I’ve witnessed a lot of crazy things tonight, and the fact that I have a man whom I just met in my house after being shot at is crazy. However, my dogs don’t seem to care about the crazy night I’ve had as they’re too busy trying to get John to pet them. In spite of what I witnessed him do earlier in the midst of gunfire, seeing him act like a complete teddy bear around my dogs practically makes my heart skip a beat.
“Sit down here, John,” I tell him, gesturing to stools by my counter as I wash my hands in the kitchen sink. “So I can stitch up your arm,” I add, drying the water from my hands before gathering the stuff I need from my medicine cabinet. He nods at my words before sitting and waiting patiently, now with my smallest dog in his lap. Beside him are my other dogs, all sitting beside him as if they were all best friends already.
Smiling at the sight, I look up from my dogs to meet his eyes, only to be greeted by his chocolate-like eyes already staring back into mine. However, I quickly look away and begin helping him take his coat off all the while remaining careful about the arm he got shot in. It’s only after I cut the arm of his sleeve off and begin gently cleaning the dried up blood off his arm that John speaks up. “Do you treat all your patients like this?” He asks, a small smile taking over his lips as the question falls from his mouth.
I find myself smiling back at him before moving onto clean the actual wound. “Only special ones,” I tell him, earning a small chuckle back from him despite me pressing gauze with alcohol against the bullet wound on his arm. I choose not to mention it, and instead point out all of my dogs’ sudden fondness for the man. “They really like you,” I point out before examining his wound. The bullet went through the very edge of his arm, avoiding his humerus or anything major. Despite it leaving a decent sized wound, it’s still a pretty easy fix, thankfully.
Telling John he’ll need stitches only gains a hum back from him. Even when I poke the needle through his skin and pull it through, he still fails to react, and instead, John speaks up with the same tone of voice he had earlier. “I love dogs,” John confesses, using his free hand to scratch the wrinkles on my pug’s forehead. “And they’re all so cute too,” he adds, once again, not showing any sign of pain as I finish suturing his arm.
“That’s a good thing, that you love dogs,” I tell him, dressing his arm before taping it. “It shows a lot about someone,” I add, watching as he watches me closely, yet softly. As time goes on, I anticipate his next words, but even now, he still doesn’t mention it.
“I’m sorry we met this way,” John’s apology takes me by surprise, causing me to look away from his arm and stare at him. “I wish this could’ve been under better circumstances,” he adds, a small sigh falling from his lips afterward. “You’re a truly wonderful person; you didn’t deserve to be a target tonight.”
Instead of agreeing with him, I sigh as well before smiling and speaking up. “If it weren’t for you, they would’ve shot me. Over something I haven’t the slightest clue on,” I point out to him, “I know there are things that go on in this city, and I never expected to be in the middle of it, but I am eternally grateful that you were there and able to save me tonight,” Taking his hand in mine, I maintain eye contact with him and squeeze his hand. “You saved my life tonight. Thank you.”
At my words, John smiles back and nods. “No problem, nurse (Y/n),” he tells me, his thumb gently running across the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do it again,” he adds, making my smile grow even more as his eyes never leave mine. I don’t doubt the mysterious stranger will hold true to his word, but at the same time, I want to learn more about the man outside of saving me from the city’s dangers.
“And I’ll be here to patch you up again,” I tell him back, giving his hand a quick squeeze before turning to put away all of my medical supplies. “In the meantime,” I start, glancing between him and my kit as my dogs take the opportunity to swarm him. “Would you mind explaining to me a little bit about what exactly goes on in this city?”
John doesn’t respond right away, and instead, he chooses to stand up beside me in spite of the protests from his new furry friends. Putting away the rolled gauze and cotton balls, I look over at him as he appears beside me, only to earn another small smile from him like before. “Too much for one night,” he tells me, placing a gentle hand on my arm as if to stop me from messing with my medical supplies. “For right now, you need to sleep. You’ve had a long day,” he points out. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make sure you continue to stay safe for the night. Is it alright if I stay here?”
Seeing him gesture toward my living room where all of my dogs sit and eagerly wait for him to join them on the couch makes a small laugh leave my lips. If it weren’t for him saving my life and my dogs being so trusting of him, then I probably wouldn’t be as confident as I am with letting him stay. “Actually, I would prefer that,” I tell him, before nodding at the couch behind him. “Although I don’t think you’ll be alone, unfortunately.”
Just as I say that, all the dogs run over to us and stare up at him, causing John to look down at my dogs with a smile before his expression changes into one of concern. “You need to be bandaged as well,” He tells me, causing me to look down and see my busted up knees once more, reminding me off the dull pain currently shooting from them. “Let me do it,” he further adds before gently pushing me to sit back on the stool just like I had done with him.
“I can handle them, it’s okay,” I tell him with a chuckle. “I’ve handled much worse on myself.”
Despite my words, John doesn’t respond to me, and instead, he opens my med kit back up and begins taking out the same kind of supplies I used on him, all except for the sterilized needle and string thankfully. He doesn’t argue with me on me taking care of myself, but he acts as if I hadn’t said anything to him either.
Strangely, I allow him to take care of my wounds without interrupting him, settling for watching him instead. It’s only when he moves onto rolling my scrub pants above my knees that I find myself regretting my decision. His touch is seemingly nothing more than that of someone who cares, but I can’t help but feel the small degree of intimacy in the moment. I can’t decide if it’s his slightly rough, yet gentle hands grazing my skin or just the close proximity of him on his knees in front of me, but my mind is scrambled right now.
“Told you I’d keep you safe, right?” I hear him say, bringing me out of my stupor and down to him once again. His eyes remain on his task at hand, being careful as ever while cleaning my wounds. Instead of responding, I smile and simply nod back at him, relaxing a little as I do so. He seems to pick up on this, a soft, small smile making its way onto his face as well as he moves onto bandaging the now clean scrapes and cuts.
Once again, I feel his hands touch my skin with gentleness and care, but at the same time, I can’t help but revel in the sensualness of it as well. It doesn’t help that there are times that his touch lingers more than necessary and the smile on his face still has yet to die down. I can’t help but feel bad for the thoughts currently flowing through my mind, but a part of me likes the idea of him staying with me - minus the reason why, of course. Another part of me hopes this isn’t just a one time thing either.
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velvainee · 15 days
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✦ ⎯⎯ ㅤִㅤ ୭ 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑦 ( dr.wick x reader )
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ᨳ ꒰ précis ꒱. oneshot. In 2236, Dr. John Wick leads "Wick Industries" in human experiments to extend life and youthfulness. But behind the facade of progress, test subjects like you are unknowingly involved, their consent ignored.
୨ৎ warnings. manhandling, non-con, forced relationship, breeding, evil intent, large age gap, p in v, blackmailing, mentions of blood, torture, bdsm, size kink. dead dove. do not eat. 2.6k words.
𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, this is my first fic on this blog ! please excuse any mistakes and lmk if you like it, reblogs comments & likes are very appreciated! if you have any requests for another fic don’t be afraid to reach out. ( has not been proof read ) !
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As you step into the sterile corridors of Wick Industries, the faint hum of machinery fills the air, a constant reminder of the scientific endeavors unfolding within. It's 2236, an era where the boundaries between progress and ethical considerations blur into a murky haze.
You find yourself here not out of choice, but out of dire necessity, your financial woes pressing upon you like a weighty burden. Volunteering as a blood donor is your ticket to survival, a means to secure the funds desperately needed to support your ailing mother and keep a roof over your head.
You needed the money, your mother's illness draining your savings faster than you could replenish them, while the relentless march of automation threatened your livelihood in the retail sector.
With each passing day, the gap between what you earned and what you needed widened, leaving you with little recourse but to turn to unconventional means to make ends meet.
A giant in the industry, Wick Industries looms large in the landscape of scientific research, its reputation as a leader in biomedical advancements drawing both admiration and scrutiny.
When news broke of their call for volunteers to participate in cutting-edge experiments aimed at extending human youth, you saw it as an opportunity—a chance to alleviate your financial woes while contributing to the greater good. Little did you know the true cost of admission into this world of scientific ambition and moral ambiguity.
Entering the facility, you're greeted by the sight of a bustling lobby, volunteers milling about in varying states of anticipation and apprehension.
The air is charged with nervous energy, a palpable undercurrent of uncertainty running through the crowd as each individual grapples with their own reasons for being there.
At the registration desk, you join the queue, your heart pounding in your chest as you inch closer to the counter.
The old woman behind the desk is brisk and efficient, her voice a steady rhythm in the cacophony of voices around you.
“Next,” she called out, an old woman behind the counter waved her hand, urging you to move forward.
“ID?” She spoke. Your hands making their way into your little pink hand bag as they shuffled to take out your wallet, waiting for the nod of approval before tucking your things back into your purse.
“Third door down the hallway to the left,” she directed.
Guided by her directions, you navigate through the maze-like corridors of the facility, the sterile environment and the click of your heels against the polished floors adding to the surreal atmosphere.
The waiting room is a sea of faces, each one bearing the weight of their own struggles and uncertainties, their eyes betraying a mixture of hope and trepidation.
As you take your seat among the other volunteers, you can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie tinged with unease. The steady stream of departures catches your attention, prompting a question to the person beside you.
“Why are people leaving?” You ask.
Their answer, though matter-of-fact, does little to assuage your growing apprehension.
“I hear the doctors are looking for a specific blood type within the volunteers,” the man next to you replied, his eyes going back to the bright screen of the phone he held.
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Amidst the ebb and flow of volunteers, two figures emerge, their presence commanding attention as they make their way down the line of chairs. The older man's piercing gaze sends a shiver down your spine, while his companion's whispered exchange only serves to heighten your sense of foreboding.
When they finally reach you, the weight of their scrutiny feels suffocating.
The bearded man leans in to murmur something inaudible into his assistants ear, the man’s eyes flicker in your direction.
“Her,” he whispers slightly, their eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.
As their stares bore into yours, the man’s assistant gestures for you to stand, and you comply, feeling a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. With a barely perceptible nod from the older man, they lead you away from the crowd, down a series of sterile corridors lined with gleaming metal doors.
Down the labyrinthine corridors you go, each step bringing you closer to the unknown. The air grows colder, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and trepidation. What awaits you behind those imposing doors remains a mystery, one that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness with relentless persistence.
Finally, you come to a stop before a nondescript door, its surface devoid of any indication of what lies beyond. With a silent exchange, the older man and his assistant confer, their words lost to you in the deafening silence of the corridor.
As the door slides open, revealing a sterile room bathed in harsh fluorescent light, you steel yourself for what comes next.
Alone in the room with these enigmatic figures, you can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Their welcoming smiles offer little comfort, their words ringing hollow against the backdrop of uncertainty that looms over you like a dark cloud.
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"Welcome," the man with the clipboard begins, his voice a mere whisper in the vast emptiness of the room. "My name is Dr. David. Thank you for volunteering,”
As the assistant quietly slips out of the room, leaving you alone with Dr. John Wick, a sense of unease settles over you like a heavy blanket. Yet, in his presence, there's a strange calmness that washes over you, his reassuring smile and soothing voice momentarily easing the knots of tension in your stomach.
"Please, have a seat," he gestures towards a chair, his tone gentle yet authoritative. You comply, sinking into the plush cushion as he takes a seat across from you, his piercing gaze never leaving yours.
"Let me assure you, you're in good hands here," he begins, his voice smooth as silk. "Wick Industries is at the forefront of groundbreaking research, and your participation in our experiments is invaluable."
Despite his words, a nagging feeling of apprehension lingers at the back of your mind, a whisper of doubt that refuses to be silenced. Yet, you push it aside, clinging to the hope that perhaps this is just the opportunity you've been waiting for.
“I’m Dr. Wick—but please, call me John,” He gives you a charming grin once more, reaching out his hand for you to shake.
As he continues to speak, his words seem to fade into the background, your focus shifting to the way the harsh fluorescent light casts shadows across his angular features.
“Tell me about yourself,” he speaks up once more, trying to strike a conversation with his patient.
There's something magnetic about him, something that draws you in despite your better judgment.
“There’s not really much to me,” you chuckle softly, a pink shade flushing against your cheeks.
“I work in retail—heard of the small cafe Allure? Im a barista,” you say bluntly, as if you were having a normal conversation with your friend.
“Ah really?” John turns to you, his brown eyes boring into yours. “I’ll have to try it sometime, I’ve never been,” he revealed.
Your conversation starts to become more intimate, sort of like you’re speaking to a therapist.
"You're special, you know," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "There's something about you that sets you apart from the others."
A flush creeps up your neck at his words, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. His proximity is intoxicating, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting.
“People don’t usually say that about me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes, yet you felt cared for, embracing the feeling of praise.
“A shame for such a pretty girl like you,” He jokes, rubbing his chin with his fingers.
You find yourself hanging onto his every word, his charisma and intelligence captivating you in a way you never expected.
As he shares stories of his past achievements and future aspirations, you can't help but feel a sense of admiration for the man before you.
But beneath the surface, there's a tension that simmers, a palpable electricity that crackles in the air between you. You can sense the shift in his demeanor, the subtle change in the way he looks at you, as if seeing you for the first time.
As the conversation lulls, he rises from his seat, his movements fluid and purposeful. With a slight smile, he disappears into the adjacent room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Minutes pass, the silence broken only by the soft hum of machinery in the distance. And then, he reappears, a small vial in his hand.
"I've prepared something to help ease the discomfort during the blood extraction process," he explains, his tone reassuring. "It's a simple elixir, but it should make the experience more bearable."
You nod, accepting the vial with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. As you raise it to your lips, you can't help but wonder what exactly is in the concoction he's given you.
But the pain of the extraction process looms large in your mind, overshadowing any doubts or reservations you may have.
With a deep breath, you swallow the elixir in one swift motion, its taste bitter and metallic against your tongue. And then, as the liquid courses through your veins, a wave of dizziness washes over you, your vision blurring at the edges.
You reach out for support, but John is already there, his strong arms catching you before you hit the ground.
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Your head throbs, the sensation reverberating through your ears as you grimace in pain, your face contorted in a grimace as you watch the overhead lights flicker rapidly.
Panic surges within you, your heart racing as you realize your arms are restrained above your head, the cold metal of the cuffs biting into your skin. Your feet barely brush against the worn tiles below.
"What the hell?!" you exclaim, your voice trembling with fear. Memories elude you, leaving you disoriented and bewildered.
Surveying your surroundings, you find yourself in a stark white room, its pristine walls offering no solace. A single door stands in the corner, ominous in its silence as you hang suspended in the center, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the sterile space.
Suddenly, the door creaks open, revealing Dr. John Wick as he steps into the room. Clad in gloves and his white coat, he exudes an unsettling air of authority as a wave of realization washes over you.
"What's happening?!" you demand, your voice trembling with uncertainty as fear grips you tightly.
"Hush now," John soothes, his voice calm and measured as he approaches you.
Despite your frantic struggles against the chains, he moves closer, his hand deftly manipulating a remote control in his grasp. With a click, the chains lower, the sound of metal clanking echoing in the sterile room as your body descends.
“I didn’t lie about how you were special,” he smiles creepily, now eye level with the man as he lifts your chin slightly.
“We just need to text you for some experiments, nothing too big,” he added, hot tears already brimming your waterline.
“P-Please get me out this isn’t what I signed up for—“ You whined, your wrists still trying to undo the chains that bound them together.
“I’m sorry but I cannot do that. You’ll be my little test bunny for today, is that alright with you, love?” He chuckled softly.
You shriek, tears already streaming down your cheeks as John’s fingers stroke against your jawline.
“You wouldn’t want to let your poor mother die now, would you?” He whispered, leaning into your ears as you grit your teeth, jaw clenching.
“Your mother has been transferred to a better hospital—under my industry. Resist and you die, let me use you this once and I’ll ensure your mother’s safety,” he’d add.
Before you are able to say anything, he grabs a handkerchief from his pocket, wrapping it around your head.
Your body stops shaking, your mother was at risk and you were unable to do anything.
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He first took a knife from the steel cart that was placed against the wall across from where you were, his movements precise as you felt your clothing slither from your body, down your legs and eventually onto the ground.
Unable to resist, you stood there, crying, your makeup making marks on your cheeks as you shuddered from the embarrassment you felt as you were exposed to the older man.
“So young, so beautiful,” his voice tantalizing as he admired your curves, his hands starting to graze against your skin, the goosebumps visible from your fear.
“Don’t be afraid, it’s only procedures,” he teased, before pushing the button on his remote once more, your body lowering down as you gazed up at the man like a dog.
His fingers made their way under your chin, lifting them up slightly before he slowly undid the handkerchief.
“Please don’t scream, you’ll only make it harder for yourself,” he rambled, his lips now pressing against yours as you moaned in both surprise and disgust.
His tongue swirled with yours, the both fighting for dominance as he held your jaw in one hand, the other one starting to undo his pants.
John’s eyes glinted with a cold detachment as he advanced towards you, his movements deliberate and predatory.
“I promise, you’ll like it,” he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he surveyed your trembling form.
You tried to protest, but the words caught in your throat as he pinned you against the wall, his hands rough and possessive as they roamed over your body.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he leaned in close.
“Resistance is futile.”
You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the fear that gripped your soul.
“Please,” you whispered, but the desperation in your voice only seemed to amuse him.
With a smirk, he silenced you with a bruising kiss, his lips crushing yours with a ruthless intensity that left you gasping for air.
And as he claimed you as his own, you found yourself surrendering to him completely, your body a playground for his darkest desires. Each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your veins, your cunt throbbing with a mixture of agony and ecstasy.
But amidst the chaos, there was something else - a twisted kind of love that dared not speak its name.
“You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he watched you squirm beneath him.
You moaned in response, unable to deny the twisted pleasure that his touch ignited within you.
With a guttural grunt, John released his load deep inside your cunt, his cock throbbing with the force of his climax. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of pleasure from his pulsating shaft as he claimed you as his own.
“Take it, you filthy whore,” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he buried himself inside you.
“You like being used, don’t you?”
You moaned in response, unable to deny the twisted pleasure that his rough treatment ignited within you.
Each thrust was a reminder of your submission, a testament to the depths of your depravity.
As he reached his peak, his grip on you tightened, leaving bruises in his wake as he marked you as his property.
“There we go little bunny,” he sneered, his words a cruel echo of the pleasure that coursed through your veins.
And as he finally pulled away, leaving you empty and spent, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. In his arms, there was no room for love or tenderness, only the raw, unbridled passion of two souls consumed by darkness.
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♡ 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑
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97keanu · 7 months
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wearing johns oversize white t shirt to bed >>>
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. 。✩ John having a long day, finally getting home, and coming back to you in bed wearing nothing but his T-shirt and panties. The image is already making him feel better to back, and he finds the oversized look quite cute on you. He gives you smirk and playfully gets into bed with you, pulling you close and cuddling you instantly.
. 。✩ "Where did you find that?" "In the laundry, I put it on because it smells like you..." He is beyond flattered and also ends up loving the idea that you have his scent on you, that he's able to mark in you in such a way, and you loved it too.
. 。✩ You two spoon and he nuzzles into the back of your head, giving your hair a deep breath and enjoying the scent. He let's his hands explore your thighs, pulling up and playing with the sides of your panties, softly snapping them before sneaking under the T-shirt and caressing there.
. 。✩ He let's you keep it on while you two fuck, loving seeing you pull it up to expose your pretty tits, watching how he can make them bounce while he pounds you. Eventually he flips you over and loves how it looks with your ass peeking out.
. 。✩ Eventually, somehow, he always manages to rip it off you in the act. Later, when you two are cuddling, naked and sweaty, he has to promise to get you another one before he goes out on a job again. He of course, always remembers to do so.
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smuttyfantasyrecs · 11 months
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John Wick
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🦋 alone together 🦋
@ficsnroses
🦋 compliant 🦋
@thatfanficstuff
🦋 can it wait 🦋
@reevesdriver
🦋 bedroom window 🦋 wedding bells 🦋 burning desire 🦋
@fanficsrusz
🦋 dirty little secret 🦋
@fics-not-tragedies
🦋 santa baby 🦋
@fortheloveoffanfic
🦋 I licked it so it's mine 🦋
@ladyreapermc
🦋 motorcycle man 🦋
@keanuvibe
🦋 worn out 🦋
@iworshipkeanureeves
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chloe-skywalker · 3 months
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Dog Sitting & Worries - John Wick
John Wick x Fem!Reader Daughter
Warnings: none
Word count: 381
Summary: John drops his dog off with his daughter, and she find out he got back in.
Authors Note: First John Wick imagine, short but sweet.
Masterlist
John Wick Masterlist
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“Dad?” Y/n was shocked and confused to see her father at her doorstep when she opened the door.
“Uh hey.” John greeted nervously, they hadn’t seen each other in a while.
“Are you okay?” Y/n asked, noticing his weight shifting and looking around almost like he was paranoid.
“Yeah. No. But I’ll be fine.” John answered her grimacing but nodding, he didn’t want to lie to her but he also didn’t want her to worry.
“You got back in. Didn’t you?” Y/n questioned but it was more of a statement. She knew just from the few cut’s he was sporting to his attire and being on edge.
“I had no choice.” John sighed looking at her with pleading eyes hoping she wouldn’t be mad at him for getting back into his past. John glanced down at the pitbull at his side before asking her. “Can you watch him for me?”
“Yeah, sure.” Y/n smiled, she was always a dog person so she couldn’t turn the cute dog down. But if her father was asking her to watch him then he was going in deep, and that made her nervous. She already lost her mother, Y/n doesn’t want to lose her father as well. But she trusted her fathers skills. She had to.
“Thanks.” He nodded gratefully to her and handed over the dog’s leash. The dog happily ran right into Y/n’s home once she unclipped the leash.
With a smile at seeing how his dog felt at home with his daughter, John turned around to leave.
“Dad!” Y/n called out, making him stop and turn back to face his daughter one last time before he’d leave for a while to go deal with some more assholes. “Be careful. Please.”
Y/n knew what he had done in his past, so she had a good idea of what he was doing now. Y/n just hoped he’d be careful. She already lost her mom and she didn’t want to lose her dad as well.
“Always for you, always.” John sent her a smile. Promising her he’d be careful. He didn’t want her to end up alone so he knew he had to take extra precautions. But he’d do that for Y/n. For his daughter.
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harleyqueen24 · 10 months
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Freedom, or not
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Vincent de Gramont x Female Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Talk about illegality, invasion of privacy, power imbalance, swearing.
WORD COUNT : 1.8k
Summary: You do your studies in Lille's city. Suddenly, Vincent come to visit you. But, you know that it’s gonna be bad.
Thank you to @murasakispace for the correction.
Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/
Friday, your lessons were over. You left class with your friends, happy to have finished your group project for the semester. You wanted to go out for a drink to celebrate. Your second MASTER was over. You and your friends were so happy. You were on your way to a café, when a black limousine stopped in front of you. Its window rolled down and you saw a familiar face. He wore black glasses and had immaculate hair.
"Good evening, Miss Y/N." You knew why he was there. You knew who weas in the car and who was waiting for you. You gazed at your friends and sighed. They knew your situation and shrugged their shoulders with a broken smile. The driver continued to focus on you. "Sir waits you at..."
"The back. I know. Thank you Simon."
He replied you with a nod and pulled up the window. You gave them a little wave and smile to reassure them. They replied you with a "Salut !" and you got into the car to join the man you never wanted to see again: Vincent. He was dressed in a blue and purple checked three-piece suit. The envy of laughing at this extravagant costume overcame you. Although, you had to remain as neutral as possible so as not to start another argument. If he was here, it was because he had something important to tell you. You sat down in front of him, seriously.
These five years far away from him had done you the most good. You remembered the last time where you saw him. It was in Paris, at a dinner to celebrate his diploma. His parents had been so proud of him. Now, he was working with his father. It seemed that Monsieur was too lazy to continue his studies.
"So, are you going to speak up at some point?" he said, irritated. You had been watching from the window since you got into the limousine. The driver had the time to leave Lille and get on the motorway. It was normal for him to feel insulted. You turned your head towards him.
"It depends. If you tell me what you want."
"Chérie, we have two hours ahead of us. We have the time to come to the main issue."
"All the more reason not to talk to you. And I'm not your 'chérie'." His fists clenched. You knew he hated that. He sighed.
"You have not changed. Always so frank, serious and boring." His words were like spikes, piercing you to the core. He knew how hurt you were. Even though you were not supposed to show your feelings under any circumstances.
You looked out the window again. "And you, always so contemptuous and arrogant."
He smiled. "That's normal. It's part of my charm."
"Your charm. Mon cul, oui." You thought. Trees and houses were marching in front of you. A few minutes later, you realised that you were leaving the Lille area. "Where are you taking me?" you asked him.
"Are you only asking me that now?" he replied with a grin. "This is a surprise."
"You know that I don't like it."
"Yes, I know. That’s why I’m making you one."
You sighed. "You annoy me." He smiled, proud of himself. And it was only been an hour since you had left the city. "Is it far away?" you asked him.
"The destination ? Not really." He picked up his cup of coffee and he drank a sip.
"So, are we almost there? I have a lot of work to do."
"It will wait."
It will wait? You refused. You broke your back to be the best in your class. You did everything you could to show your father the leader you’d be if you took over his business. And this man said it as if there were more important things to do. Outraged, you grabbed your PC and started working on your project.
He gazed at you and sighed. "So, you don't want to talk to me."
"I would rather work." Your fingers tapped the keyboard quickly and you were so focused on your work that you lost track of time. The car pulled up and Simon opened the door. You lifted your head. "Are we there yet?"
"A few minutes ago." Vincent got out of the vehicle. You joined him and discovered where he had taken you. The great glass pyramid of the Louvre stood proudly before you. It was not the first time you had seen it. He reached out to you, waiting for you to grasp it.
"Will my fiancé please accompany me on this visit?" You gazed at his hand, then at Vincent and walked towards the main entrance without taking his hand, which was waiting for yours. He closed it, clenching his fist. "Alright." he said, annoyed.
You walked along the long corridors of the museum, observing at the paintings and statues. You stopped in front of Le Sacre de Napoléon by Jacques-Louis David. To admire it for the umpteenth time. You loved everything about this painting, the brushstrokes, the colours, the lights. It captivated you.
"Wonderful, no?" Vincent told you, next to you.
"Yes. Wonderful." You answered, stars in your eyes. "Did you know that Napoleon’s mother was not present at the son's coronation?" You asked him.
"Yes and that is why Napoleon the First asked the painter to install it."
You gazed him, surprised. "Finally, you know something."
"Why? Did you doubt it?"
"Sometimes." You continued down the long, high corridor.
After a few minutes, you saw a table. Vincent invited you to sit down. You looked around before moving to one of the two chairs. A butler came and served you tea, cakes were in front of you. Your fiancé took two teaspoons of sugar and mixed it into the tea. You decided to take the lead.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"You don't beat around the bush." he said you with a little grin. "We need to talk about..."
"If it's about the marriage, I'll stop you. Your father always reminding me." you cut him off. He laughed.
"It was not in my mind to talk about it. I just wanted to spend some time with my fiancée."
"And about what? Business?"
"Oh, you know how to talk to me, Bébé."
"Don't. Call. Me. Like. This." you said, enraged.
"Wow! Calm down! It was a joke."
"It wasn't fun." You sighed and took your cup of tea to drink. You observed at a few paintings while your fiancé talked. For almost an hour, he only talked about his business with his father. But one thing caught your attention: your father's business. Vincent knew a lot about it. Even a little too.
"Working with your father gives us something extra."
You fixed. "What do you mean?" you said, confused. He put down his cup and crossed his legs.
"The illegal art market is not very well known, only the richest have access to. But that’s what gives it its charm and power. Doing business with your father is always a pleasure."
You stood up suddenly. "An illegal market?" you exclaimed. You knew nothing of your father’s activities or of his relationship with the Marquis. Although, you did know one thing: art is above all a passion and pure. That's what your father taught you. Your father would never have tolerated this. Vincent watched you, intrigued.
"What?"
"What? What! Tu te rends compte de ce que tu viens de dire ?"
"Judging by your reaction, I see your father didn’t tell you."
It was right. Your father didn't tell you anything about his business. At the same time, you had gone to another town, a two-hour drive from Paris. So, you didn't know much.
"My father? Doing that? That's impossible..." you murmured.
"If you weren’t so far from Paris, you might know the latest."
You glared at him. You remembered why you had gone to Lille. You didn’t want to hear him, see him, or even feel him. You didn't want to listen to this guy who was going to be your husband. Just thinking about it mad you want to throw up. He took a sip of his tea when you said:
"Maybe if you didn’t exist, I could live my little quiet life by my side."
His jaw clenched. He hated it when you said things like that. It touched his ego. He put his cup down violently. "Because you think I’m happy to marry a woman as boring as you?" Now, it was your turn to go mad. You stood up quickly and walked towards one of the museum's many corridors. Vincent sighed and followed you.
"Y/N!"
He called you, but you didn't care. You were so angry when you heard him. Suddenly, his hand grabbed your handle. You turned in front of him, violently. You were standing in front of La Liberté guidant le peuple by Eugène Delacroix.
"What? Are you gonna ask me again why I’m angry? Why am I reacting like this? Or are you gonna ask me why I'm running away?"
"I..."
"No! Don't talk! I’m talking here!"
He took a breath and folded his arms. You continued to speak. "I was very happy to be in Lille. Happy to be doing something with my life. And just for what? A job. A fucking job that I know I may never achieve." You took a breath, before continuing. "And you... You’re back in my life after two fucking years. Two fucking years of doing what I wanted, going to parties, making friends and studying what I wanted. I was free!" His eyes widened. He wanted to speak but no words came out. "Do you understand, now? Your mere presence reminds me that I could never be happy!"
"And for me? Don’t you think I feel the same way?"
You smiled. "It's different for you. You’ve always accepted what your father told you to do. Like a good boy to his daddy!"
"Don't talk about my father like that! Did those girls you hang out with teach you that vocabulary? I should have kept a better eye on your entourage!"
Your eyes widened. What? Did he spy on you and your friends? "Unbelievable. You were spying on me!"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you're my fiancée!"
"Et alors ? That's not a reason!"
"For me, si !"
A bodyguard suddenly interrupted you. "Sir."
"What?" you said together. For the first time, you agreed on the same thing. Which surprised you. The man in the corstard scraped his throat before he spoke. It smelled bad all that stuff.
"Sorry to bother you, but…"
"Talk!" Vincent shouted.
"I have to inform you that your father is dead."
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Translate French - English :
MASTER : degree after 5 years of study.
Salut ! : Hi!
Monsieur : Sir
Chérie : Darling
Mon cul, oui : My ass.
Bébé : Baby
Tu te rends compte de ce que tu viens de dire ? : Do you realize what you just said?
Et alors ? : So what?
Si ! : Yes!
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multific · 10 months
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Small Kisses
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Vincent De Gramont x Wife!Reader
Warning: mention of toxic obsession and kidnapping (not done by Vincent)
Summary: You loved the tickle of his lips on your skin.
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Vincent loved to give you small kisses.
No matter the reason. He just loved doing it wherever you two were.
A formal event? 
A simple dinner?
A small date?
Or just staying in bed all day?
You swore the reason Vincent lived was to give you his sweetest kisses. A man so cunning and proud as him, yet he would be the proudest and calmest whenever he was with you.
You were his beautiful wife whom he loved with all of his dark heart.
But you didn't mind the blood, the murder and the insanity of it all.
Because every time he killed someone in the most brutal way, he would also come home to you, his gorgeous suit covered in blood, and give you such a sweet kiss.
It was honestly confusing rather than anything. 
Vincent was a very classy man. He enjoyed the luxuries in life. High-end products, and he always made sure that you lived in the same luxury.
On your last birthday, he gifted you an original Monét piece.
The painting is currently right above your bed.
If he could, he would buy you the Mona Lisa.
He would literally make sure that you are dripping in diamonds, much like how he did for his birthday when he got you a special gown, made out of diamonds.
Once he said: "I would change the Mona Lisa to a painting of you, you are far more beautiful, Mon Amour."
His sweet talking always worked.
No matter how angry you were because of something, he would always say the sweetest things and then give you a small kiss to your forehead.
“My Beautiful Wife, even stunning when she is mad at me.”
“I would kill any man for you, Mon Amour. You don’t have to ask.”
“I must apologise, I believe I have lacked in my duties as a husband, Mon Amour. I believe you forgot just how much I love you.”
He would always make sure that you are happy and protected.
Even when one time, he failed to do that.
Well, it was more like his men failed, not him. 
When you were taken, he was furious. Too furious to say or do anything other than rage. 
You were taken by a man. A man so insane, you never saw anything like this.
He kept on going on about how he knew you were in love with him, how he knew that you only married Gramont for the money and how now, you two can be together.
He scared you. 
His obsession with you was toxic, you could see just how crazy he was in his eyes. Every time he used the word 'love' it sent a shiver up and down your spine. 
When Vincent finally got to you, you were shaking in fear. The only thing that managed to calm you was Vincent's kisses.
The smallest little kisses he placed all along your body. He also spoke in French some calming words but you could only recall the tickle of his lips when he found a soft spot.
And when the next couple of days you woke up with a shiver, having nightmares about the man who abducted you, it was Vincent who calmed you down. 
It was he who kept waking up with you, never leaving your side, promising he would never leave or let this ever happen to you while placing kisses on your hands, knuckles and palm.
Vincent loved to give you small kisses on any exposed skin that you have.
But you loved the tickle of his lips on your skin even more.
His little kisses were the true proof of his love for you.
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Vincent Taglist: @l4venderia
Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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skylarinfinity · 10 months
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m/n: [in serious tone] you know wick, there's something i want to tell you but i wait for the right time...
john wick: [continue staring at the night sky] what is it's?
m/n: since i first met you all i can think is that you look like jesus who decided to wear all black.
john wick: [sigh] why past me let's you follow me around?
tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket
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6lostgirl6 · 8 months
Note
Heyo! Love your recent post on the marquis de gramont. Could you do a one shot where the reader manages to escape yandere marquis and manages to hide in another country for a few months before the marquis confronts them in a motel they were hiding in
No Escape
Pairing: Yandere!Vincent De Gramont x Fem!Reader
TW: General Yandere Behavior, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Imprisonment, Mentions of Codependency, Controlling Vincent, Panic Attack, Cursing, Arguing, Forced Kissing (At first), Happy Ending. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Word Count: 1.5k
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It took you months to earn his trust, which he scarcely showcased to anyone. The months you pretended you were finally falling in love with him, with lovely words and tender affections that gradually lowered his guard with each passing day.
There were privileges that came with trust, which you soaked up like a sponge. He eventually permitted you to roam around the mansion without him or a bodyguard, which led to him permitting you to spend time outside within the gates. Finally, you were allowed to sleep in your room without someone monitoring your door during the night.
However, you ultimately reached a breaking point when you recognized one day that those affectionate words and acts had transformed into something more…sincere. You'd lay awake in your room, your mind racing at the prospect of succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome.
Your altered phone, gifted by Vincent, lay in pieces on the bedroom floor when you made your escape. You crept out under the beauty of the moonlight, and your efforts during the day allowed you to memorize Vincent's men's routine patrols. You wore only the clothing on your back and a little satchel containing your monthly allowance, which Vincent would give you as a reward for your good behavior. The hardest thing was climbing over the fence, but you made it out with only minor cuts. Despite the joy of finally experiencing independence, you couldn't shake the sadness in your heart. You couldn't help but think you were doing something wrong.
'It isn't love; it isn't love.' Throughout your entire voyage to Canada, you would repeat those words in your head like a broken record. When the landlord handed you the keys to your flat, you couldn't help but feel awful. When you received your new cell phone a week later, you resisted the urge to call him.
You missed him terribly and despised yourself for it.
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A month has gone by, and you weren't any better off than you were a few weeks before. You did, however, have a job interview coming up in the next month, and you were pleased that you were making progress toward regaining independence. You even purchased a new cell phone for amusement purposes.
Vincent had certain expectations for you as his lover while you were imprisoned. He wanted you to be entirely reliant on him, letting him make decisions for you and requiring his permission to do everything or walk outdoors. He promised to take care of you, to make you want for nothing, and to give you the wedding of your dreams. However, beneath the surface, you became less and less of yourself.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you couldn't help but wonder if you would have been happier at ho-Vincent's mansion. Your eyes threatened to shed tears as you glanced at the screen of your phone.
Vincent's number was illuminated in the darkness of your room, casting a chilling glow across your face. The call button begged you to merely press it in order to make amends.
You tapped the button and placed the phone to your ear with a nervous exhale. As the phone continued to ring, your eyes were wide and stared into space. As you waited for him to pick up, your heart was racing in your chest, and you nervously chewed your nail.
'He'll be mad...'
The thought occurred to you, and you immediately regretted making the phone call. You were aware that Vincent had a temper, and while he never took it out on you, you weren't immune to his stern lectures when you got in trouble, or how he destroyed his possessions in front of you. Even his patience with you can waver, and you weren't planning on finding out.
When the person on the other end of the line picked up the phone, you hurriedly hung up, unable to handle the sound of his voice. You tried taking a few deep breaths, but your heart refused to stop pounding rapidly as you stared down at the phone.
Within the first five seconds, your phone rang, and you felt your heart was about to stop. When Vincent's number came across your screen again, you screamed and threw the cellphone against the wall. Your phone was scattered in pieces on the carpet, similar to the altered phone you left at the mansion. You prayed to whatever higher power that the call wasn't long enough for Vincent to track it down.
"Fuck!" You exclaimed, rising from your bed and walking about your room, your hands grasping the sides of your head, attempting to stabilize yourself. "Fuck, fuck!"
You couldn't sleep that night.
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You were strolling to your apartment, finally entering the elevator with a spring in your step. A month had gone by with no occurrences, and your concern was fading, with your confidence progressively taking its place.
The job interview went well, and you were hired at the local supermarket in the little town where you resided. It was extremely discreet, and you preferred it that way. Anything too extravagant would have drawn Vincent's attention, which was the last thing you needed.
When the doors reopened, you proceeded to head towards your apartment door, fishing out your keys from your satchel. Sorting through your keys, you unlocked the door and walked into the dark apartment, shutting the door behind you. You walked over to the wall, flicking on the lights.
The next thing you heard caused a chill to run down your spine.
"Did you enjoy your interview, chérie?" A familiar voice spoke, prompting you to press your back against the wall in panic.
Vincent stood in front of the window, his back to you, watching the beauty beyond the glass. His hands were in his pants pockets, and his posture was rigid.
"V-Vincent I-" You stuttered but came to a pause when Vincent turned to face you.
His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his big lips formed a stiff line. He was clearly furious with you, but he tried to remain calm.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" He demanded, taking a few steps closer to you. His stature was imposing, towering well over six feet tall, and you hoped he'd keep his distance.
You could only stay silent; your eyes were locked on him.
"Do you?" He asked once more, his tone becoming darker.
"I-I'm sorry, Vincent, I just-" Your mind was blank, unable to generate a suitable explanation. Your heart was attempting to burst from your chest, and your breathing was growing shaky.
How can you explain your mixed feelings to your kidnapper?
Vincent's patience was clearly wearing thin as he strode towards you, seizing your upper arms and dragging you close. He disregarded your terrified yelps as you struggled to keep your distance. However, because you were close to the wall, Vincent quickly trapped you against it. Your faces were barely a few inches apart, and you struggled to keep the warmth from flowing into your cheeks.
"How could you do something like this? I thought we were happy together and that you finally accepted our love! Why would you run away and scare me to death?!" He yelled, shaking your body somewhat as he spoke. "Do you understand what you put me through?!"
Suddenly, there was a fire that was ignited in your heart that you'd never felt before. All those months poured through you and you didn't think before you opened your mouth.
"What I put you through, what about me?! You kidnapped me and kept me inside your stupid mansion like I was some doll to do your bidding! How dare you stand there and act like you didn't hurt me first!"
Before he could reply, you continued, "But, I fucking love you! Even after everything, I still fell for you, and I hate myself for it! So, I ran! I ran away from you-"
You were cut short as Vincent yanked you into a kiss, his body crushing you against the wall. As you struggled, his arm curled around your waist, and the other gripped your hair to prevent you from pulling away.
However, the longer the kiss persisted, the less you struggled and ultimately succumbed to your predicament. He's kissed you several times before in the past, but this kiss was different. It was the first kiss where you two were finally on the same page.
You returned his kiss, your arms wrapping around his waist. He growled slightly into the kiss, drawing away slightly and planting a gentle kiss on your brow. You leaned against his chest, tears welling up in your eyes as you understood what had transpired.
Vincent brought his lips to your ear, his fingers twirling in your hair as he murmured darkly, "You will never do this again, do you hear me?"
His words sent shivers down your spine, full of ownership, and you knew your independence was gone. You softly agreed, allowing him to bring you closer to him in an embrace that was everything but sweet.
"You'll never escape me; I'll always find you." He murmured again, planting a firm kiss against your temple. "Always, chérie."
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Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked
Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @bookworm-with-coffee @leiasolo77 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bloodywickedvamp @daddy-issues-99 @kirishimasfiance @cynic-spirit
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anundyingfidelity · 11 months
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BE THERE — John Wick
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Summary: John comes to your door wounded late at night for help. You wish he would stay.
Warnings: none, just angst.
Pairing: John Wick x reader (gender not specified).
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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Seeing John standing outside your door in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain and wounded unlocked old memories.
You did not have any choice but let him inside your home. He was running, of course. He went through some good shit you wish he didn't. From the loss of his wife, his dog, and his quiet life... It hurted seeing him like this.
But you took him in, so here you were, stiching a cut he had on his shoulder. John groaned because of the pain and sipped the drink of alcohol you gave him so he could feel a little less the burn on his body.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, finishing your task. You sat by his side on the couch and cleaned the sweat off his face, marked by the years and the stories he left behind. "You can stay here, if that's what you want."
John's dark brown eyes scrutinized your face and every detail of you, your eyes full of worry, lips parted and how close you were to him. He wanted to stay, but he couldn't. He couldn't lose you... again.
"Thank you, but I will have to decline."
You reached for his hand, giving a sad smile.
"Look, I don't know what else is happening, but I am here. I will not go anywhere."
John nodded, thankful for your willpower to be always there for him. Even if his past would continue hunting him.
"That's the problem. I hurt people around me, is all I am good at."
Your heart ached for his words. Deeply, you wished things were different. Even if you met John outside his old business, you had no prejudices for him or his decisions. He didn't have a choice most of his life. So each time he needed a healing hand, you welcomed him in your home... and in your life.
"It doesn't have to be like that always, John... Please stay."
Your hand caressed his check and your lips kissed his skin, feeling the little burn of his beard. Hiding your face on the crook of his neck, he let you stay by his side, as close as humanly possible that wouldn't hurt.
He thought he didn't deserve someone like you. He only created problems and being with you was a big risk, considering he was being pursued. However, he decided to stay. John needed your warmth and if this was the last time he was able to see you, then he had to let you know how much he cared about you.
"I'm not going anywhere right now."
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writings-of-a-demigod · 8 months
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You were offered a job and you took it. The best place to be ready for this is at The Continental, doing research and planning for everything also it’s the safest place for you. You had a reputation to build up even if you were new at this, well not as new as anyone think you did have a proper training for years but going on jobs that started 7 years ago.
You stepped inside The Continental and walked up to the front desk where Charon stood behind the counter. Putting your bangs on the ground.
“Good evening Mx. L/N.” He greeted.
“Good evening Charon.” You smiled at him.         
“How long are you staying with us?” he asked.
“About two weeks and I’ll let you know if I’m going to extend my stay.” You answered.
“Of course,” he typed on the computer then picked out the key and handed it over to you “You will be staying in room 819.”
The same time you handed him a coin. You thanked him and started picking your bags off the floor. To head to the elevator. But before you could you heard him.
“And as always it is a pleasure having you here again Mx. L/N.” he smiled at you.
You nodded at him and made way to the elevator. Arriving at your floor, you started walking towards your room while trying to unlock your door. You heard the next door being opened and someone walked out.
You didn’t see his face but his figure, tall wearing black suit with long black hair. You knew who it was, that man is a legend a meth it’s THE John Wick. He turned and saw you.
“Good evening Mr. Wick.” You nodded at him.
He nodded back “Good evening Mx. ……” he started.
“It’s Y/L/N.” You filled him in.
“Y/L/N.” he repeated.
“Have a nice night.” You said to him before carrying your bags to go inside.
“You too.” He replied.
*gif not mine*
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rosevette · 2 months
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I NEED A FANFIC WITH THEM, PLEASE. John and Marquis? Good cop bad cop? Or maybe they’re both bad cops…three way? Spoiled!reader? Guys please im dying out here.
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