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ilongfor-the-arts · 5 months

Text

Tea and Music

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut!, language, mild begging, choking, unprotected sex, use of “good girl”

Summary: Part two of Poetry in Motion! These are the events that happen after Marquis meets our ballerina reader.

Word Count: 6.7k

Read Part one HERE!!!

Taglist: @jiawalker

The limo crushed the small stones under its tires as it drove along the white gravel path. The entire estate was completely covered in trees and green once we passed through the golden gates. I couldn't see the sides of the gate from the car, so I assumed his estate extended for miles.

Not a blade of grass was out of place.

I would have flirted with Vincent sooner if I had known he was concealing a mansion.

Our conversation two nights ago was extremely straightforward. He introduced himself, and I asked him one question before he insisted on speaking with me in person.

His address was on a street I'd never heard of before. I thought that perhaps it was in the Paris slums. His fancy suits and elegant demeanor were just a ruse to convince people he was wealthy.

But, alas, he lives in a mansion. Who would’ve guessed?

As the car approached the large front doors, I tried to hide my surprise. His house was something out of a movie. To take it all in, I had to turn my head completely left and right. It possessed at least three levels. It was made of lovely white vintage brick and black shingles. Two poles supported an enormous balcony on opposite sides of the large double front doors.There were dozens of tall arched windows. The architecture was inspired by the French countryside, but it was elevated to the highest level.

It appeared vintage and loved, but not worn.

“Alright madame, we are here.”

My trance was broken by the posh driver.

“Oh, yes.”

He opened the door for me, offering his hand to ensure that I would not be inconvenienced in the slightest.

I could grow accustomed to this type of treatment.

I hoisted myself up by grasping his smooth palm.

“Have a pleasant visit, madame.”

He spoke with a classy accent. His elegance, however, couldn't compete with Vincent's. The elderly driver jumped back into the driver's seat and began bustling away, rocks crunching beneath the tires.

I cocked my head upwards, hesitant. I could feel nerves brewing within my stomach. The butterflies were flying free. I took a deep breath, steadying my mind.

I honed in on the rustling of the trees, waiting until the butterflies had completely dissipated.

I couldn’t believe I was about to enter the home of a man I had just met.

I knew his name.

I knew he liked ballet.

I knew where he lived.

And, that’s it.

I climbed the few steps leading to the glass double doors.

Should I knock?

No, he was expecting me.

I gently pushed open the door. The hinges didn't creak in the least.

The doors opened to reveal a large room with white marble floors and a double staircase that swirled to the top floor. The banisters were made of gold, the dark wood walls were covered in expensive-looking paintings, and each room was separated by a large, open arch.

“Hello? I’m here!”

The waves of my voice echoed around the large, nearly empty room. I felt dwarfed by the high ceilings.

“Welcome.”

my heart skipped a beat. Vincent appeared out of nowhere, sauntering through the archway on my left, hands in pockets.

He remained silent, waiting for me to break the tension.

“Uh-Thank you for having me… your house is beautiful.”

As the gravity of the situation became clear, my tone became somewhat shaky. Vincent gave a small smile.

“Thank you very much. I have quite a few estates-“

Woah, woah, woah. A few estates? As in more than one?

“But this one is by far my favorite. It’s lavish, and quiet.”

The trees gently rustled. In the distance, birds chirped. My heart was pounding in my ears.

“See? Nothing. No sounds except those of nature.”

My knees shook. Those two previous statements felt like one big, blatant sexual innuendo. I hoped that sex wasn't the sole reason for having me in this lovely estate that just so happened to have no neighbors for miles.

He leaned against the wooden arch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants. Vincent furrowed his brow as he observed my concern.

“Please, don’t be worried. I know I was just given the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance. But, I assure you, I possess a sophisticated character.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards.

“Come.”

He said this as he stepped away from the arch, motioning for me to follow him into the next room.

“I have something I believe you will enjoy.”

I returned his stare. His beautiful eyes shone with warmth. He seemed to have changed slightly now that I was in his house. He appeared to be... more at ease. Neither his gaze nor his tone indicated any discomfort. He was no longer concerned with maintaining any sort of facade.

I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him.

I smiled.

“Alright.”

My short heels clacked against the marble. As I strolled past him, I captured his familiar scent and was overcome with nostalgia.

The room I entered was significantly smaller than the one prior. Rather than being adorned in paintings, there was merely one green landscape above the unlit fireplace. One wall was entirely covered in wooden shelves, each of which was crammed to the brim. When I looked closer, I noticed that each section was filled with vinyl records. Some are still wrapped in plastic, while others have clearly been loved for years.

“Oh wow! You have quite the collection!”

I exclaimed as I ran my fingers along the spines of various records. Marquis laughed, amused by my intense interest.

“Oh wow!”

I had to use a surprising amount of force to pry one of the vinyls off the shelf as it was jammed into a completely full rack.

“You have the music from Giselle!”

Vincent strolled over to me, leaning over my shoulder to observe what had captured my attention. It was a record, with a lady and man engaged in dance. The lady wore a blouse and bodice, while the man donned tights and a decorated top.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

His hot breath cascaded across my face and neck as he inquired. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized he had placed his frame directly behind mine.

“Yes, I do. I was in it a long time ago. And, ever since it’s been one of my favorites.”

“Ah, you were in it?”

I flipped the vinyl to the back, reading each track and reminiscing.

“Yes, I was Giselle.”

“But of course you were.”

I scoffed, dismissing his high opinions of me.

“It really was not that impressive. It was a small community theater, and it was years ago before I decided to pursue ballet professionally.”

“It makes little difference where you do it. I'm sure you danced as well as someone from the Opéra National de Paris. Your talent is just as visible in a small theater as it is in the world's largest.”

I pushed my finger between two vinyls to create a gap so I could slip the record back into its original position.

“You flatter me.”

Vincent dragged his fingertips along the spines. As he did so, I fixed my attention along his veiny digits, my brain beginning to slip into places it hadn't been in a long time. I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to return to the present. Vincent drew his gaze across the records, studying them and searching for a specific item.

“Ah!”

He discovered what he was looking for.

“Swan Lake, another one of my favorites.”

He pulled it from the shelf and began to study it.

“Tchaikovsky's music is a work of art. He manipulates the instruments, allowing them to move in a poetic manner. It truly is unparalleled.”

He cocked his head to the side, meeting my eyes.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

He raised his brows, inviting me to respond. I shuffled towards his hot body, nodding.

“Yes, of course, it’s a classic.”

This cover depicted a woman bending over a lake, with a swan at her side. Beautiful blues were used to paint the entire cover.

“One of my dream roles is the swan queen.”

Vincent's lanky fingers pried the record's cover apart, and he slid the vinyl into his palm.

“One day, that role will be yours. I have no doubt about it.”

He handled the record with extreme grace and care. Despite being a large and rather intimidating man, his touch was featherlight. He opened a small cabinet located in the middle of the shelves with his opposite hand, revealing a beautiful maroon record player.

“And when you appear as the swan queen, it will be your role for the rest of your life. The audience will know instantaneously that no performance before or after yours will compare.”

Vincent placed the needle on the record's edge. The sound of a rich oboe filled the entire room. He placed his hands on his hips and viewed the black circle spin in a circle. The atmosphere became cozy and inviting. Despite being in a secluded mansion in the middle of the French countryside, I felt oddly at home. My heartbeat was regular.

Vincent glanced over his shoulder.

“Do you drink tea?”

He inquired.

I was so enthralled by Vincent's lovely figure that I had to shake myself awake when he spoke.

“Oh! Yes, of course. I love tea.”

Vincent unbuttoned the cuffs of his white dress shirt, rolling his sleeves up to reveal lovely veins dancing across his forearms. I gulped, my face growing hotter as butterflies began to hatch within my lower abdomen.

“Would you care to drink tea with me on the porch as we indulge in this lovely music?”

I nodded, unable to hide the grin playing on the corners of my mouth.

“I would like that very much.”

Vincent brought out a large silver tray, atop which was a lovely china set with pink flowers and gold stems.

“I would expect a wealthy man like you to have help. Rich men don’t make their own tea.”

I said, my tone slightly mocking. Vincent chuckled, plopping down onto the cream colored cushions.

“I don't usually make my own tea. But I specifically requested that we spend the day alone. The bustle of people detracts from the peaceful energy.”

I put a sugar cube in one of the adorable cups and poured tea on top, watching the sugar break and dissolve.

I picked up the saucer and leaned back, my body relaxing against the plush cushions. I had a fantastic view. My back was to the house, leaving the entire garden open for inspection. The green stretched as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by a few healthy trees. The property had a gray gravel path that twisted and turned. At the horizon, the gentle hill of the land met the flawless blue sky.

The scenery was lovely. I wish I knew how to paint.

My hair was tousled by a gentle breeze. The soothing music wafted through the house, reaching my ears as a mere whisper.

“Are you enjoying the view?”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the cozy energy as I sipped my tea. The steaming liquid poured down my throat, warming me from within.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

I rested the cup in my lap.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I feel like we talk so much about me.”

I said, chuckling slightly.

Vincent sipped his tea while crossing his legs and gazing out at the horizon. His gorgeous side profile was highlighted by the gentle glow of the sun.

“My life is… not very interesting.”

His demeanor had transformed. Instead of being charming, he had become aloof.

“Oh, I’m sure your life is plenty interesting. I mean, come on, this house is ginormous! What do you do?”

Vincent grit his teeth, avoiding the question.

“I made all of my money in real estate.”

He returned my gaze, his fondness restored.

“Oh! That sounds interesting.”

I took another sip of my delicious tea.

“You must’ve gotten extremely lucky.”

He flashed me a tight smile.

“Yes, absolutely. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be where I am now.”

The birds in the distance chirped peacefully, blending with the music to create a cohesive energy that flowed through my being.

“Please, tell me if I am crossing any boundaries with this question.”

I perked up. He had piqued my interest.

“However, you are a very attractive woman. And you are constantly expressing yourself through the arts. I find it difficult to believe you don't have suitors flocking to you at all times.”

I gulped, my gaze fixed on the tea in my lap.

“Well, honestly, it’s difficult to keep a relationship when you’re constantly either in the theater, or searching for your next opportunity. The little free time I have almost never lines up with the free time of others.”

He fixed his gaze on me, listening intently to every word I said. I'd never had a conversation with a man who was so enthralled by me.

“I’ve had relationships, but it's difficult to make them stick. Lately, I’ve kinda given up. It’s stressful, y’know?”

Vincent hummed.

“Yes, I can imagine.”

He sipped his tea one last time, leaning back completely to display his stunning neck. He leaned forward and placed the china cup atop its saucer before assuming his previous position.

"Well, with me, you never have to worry about that, ma chérie." My few important obligations rarely interfere with my personal life. And, if they do, I promise to commit to our relationship and not let it fall through the cracks."

His dedication surprised me. I raised my brows.

“Well, that is very kind of you. I appreciate the reassurance.”

“That is, if pursuing a relationship with me is something that entices you.”

His statement piqued my interest. I suppose I hadn't considered the question, "What are we?" I was definitely interested in pursuing a relationship with him, despite only having become acquainted a few days ago. I felt a genuine connection, and I'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

Also, the reality that he was filthy rich drew me to him.

I finished the sweet tea, placing it on the black wire coffee table.

“Yes, I believe I would be interested in that.”

I gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

“Good, I am glad to hear that.”

He folded his hands and tucked them into his lap, his gaze following. He was deep in thought, as if caught between reality and his thoughts. Vincent came to after what seemed like an eternity. He returned his gaze to mine. His attention had been drawn to a new emotion. He was looking at me with calculating eyes, as if he was carefully pondering what to say next.

This was unusual for him, as he always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy when I say this, but I have been admiring you for a while.”

To be honest, I didn't mind. And I didn't think he was creepy at all for expressing his admiration for me.

“In all honesty, I’m flattered. The way I see it, I wouldn’t put myself on the stage if I was afraid of extreme admiration. I mean, that is kind of the goal of a performer. Y’know, to make people fall in love with the performance.”

Vincent nodded, his smile widening. He was pleased with my response.

“I recall seeing you perform for the first time. It was about two years ago, in Coppélia. You played a minor role, but your beauty captivated me, and the more I sought you out, the more I fell in love.”

There was something sensual about the thought of Vincent admiring me from afar for years. It all seemed so forbidden, him watching me from a box, carefully calculating the best time to ask me out.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

Vincent shrugged.

“I assumed you were in a relationship. I tried to forget about you, but you were always on my mind. Then I didn't see you at the Opéra national de Paris for a year. My job was particularly demanding at that time. It was best if I concentrated solely on that. So I didn't go looking for you. I assumed that chapter of my life had come to an end. Then I notice you're performing in La Bayadère. And I knew that whatever force governs our universe had given me the opportunity to become your acquaintance.”

I couldn’t stop my face from breaking into a grin. I’ll admit, it felt insanely good to be admired by someone.

“Are you a nostalgic person?”

Yes, extremely.

“Yes, I am.”

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, rising to his feet.

“In that case, I have one more thing I think you would like to see.”

I followed him through the house. If I didn’t have him, I would undoubtedly be lost. Each lavish hallway felt as if it extended for miles. I followed, and followed, and followed. Until eventually we reached a pair of black double doors. They were covered in beautiful flower designs. Vincent turned the golden knobs, pushing the doors open to reveal… a bedroom?

Wow.

It was a nice bedroom, to be sure. The floors were tan wood, and the walls were a dark brown color. A large, black chandelier hung from the ceiling with an expensive crystal thread. The bedframe, curtains, and dresser with a large mirror all looked like they were plucked from the queen's bedroom.

In fact, the whole place felt like it belonged to a king. The gold accents, intricate details, and visibly expensive fabrics all gave me the impression that I was in Buckingham Palace.

Vincent headed over to his dresser, which was located on the opposite side of the room as the bed. He began rummaging through various objects, searching for something.

“Ah! Here it is! I knew I kept it!”

He gave me... a leaflet? No, it's a program. It was the program from my first performance ever at the Opera Nacional de Paris, Coppélia. My eyes shot open.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you kept this!”

I flipped through it, reading the names and contemplating all the wonderful people I'd had the pleasure of working with.

“Of course I kept it.”

I raised my eyes to him. He smiled, pleased that I had found enjoyment in this little bit of nostalgia.

“Um-”

I began.

“I-I don’t mean to take your memories from you.”

I said with a small laugh.

“But, would you mind if I kept this?”

“But of course! There is no need for me to keep a silly little booklet now that I have had the pleasure of meeting the object of my affection.”

We shared a moment of peaceful, happy silence.

“Besides, if it makes you happy, I'll gladly give it to you. We've decided to pursue a relationship. So, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to please you.”

His gaze darted to my lips before returning to my eyes, implying something taboo.

His eyes grew dark. My posture became stiff. Vincent took a large step towards me, and I had to tilt my head almost completely backwards to look him in the eyes.

I was hit with a wave of déjà vu. I was no longer on the streets of Paris, but rather in Vincent's bedroom. This time, there was nothing preventing us from delving head first into our desires.

He cupped my cheek, running his calloused thumb over my cheekbone. My breath caught in my throat. My lower abdomen was in knots, more from anticipation than from nerves. There wasn't much that could happen on the dark streets of Paris. But suddenly everything was possible and within reach. All I had to do was reach out and grab them.

“The relationships you’ve been in… have any of them had the pleasure of…”

His voice trailed off, beckoning me to finish the thought.

I gulped, a lump forming in my throat.

“No.”

My voice quivered as I felt overpowered by his pressing gaze.

Vincent tutted crispy.

“Pity.”

He stated, his voice lowering to a sensuous whisper. I envisioned him whispering sweet nothings into my ear while thrusting mercilessly into my tight cunt.

My stomach flipped.

My knees shook.

All of the blood in my body rushed to my core.

Wetness began to pool in my panties.

I adjusted my weight uncomfortably, anticipating Vincent's next move.

He leaned forward, his lips inches away from mine. I desperately wanted to break the tension by pressing my mouth to his, thereby beginning the downward spiral of pleasure. However, my train of thought was derailed when I felt Vincent’s opposite hand glide up my thigh.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sighing in pleasure as his digits swiftly located my clothed clit. He tenderly massaged my sensitive bud. The subtle sensation was utterly euphoric. My head bowed forward, my hands anxiously clutching his white dress shirt.

Vincent jerked my head upwards, forcing my misty eyes to lock with his lust blown pupils.

“You’re already so wet, ma chérie. And I have barely even touched you.”

His velvety accent became 10 times more seductive now that it had fallen an octave.

“Oh, it will be so wonderful to watch you come undone.”

He pressed his plush lips to my jugular, applying gentle kisses to my neck as he continued to draw figure eights onto my clothed clit. I threw my arms around his neck, hanging onto his strong frame as my knees threatened to give out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs and taste your sweet little cunt.”

I couldn’t handle the erotic tone combined with the featherlight touches to my clit. It was far too much for my touch starved body to handle. needed something. I was ravenous for his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I wanted so badly to be destroyed by him, to be given such pleasure that I fear coming back to reality.

“Vincent.”

I said between heavy breaths.

“Yes ma chérie?”

My jaw hung upon, mouth unable to form coherent sentences.

“P-Please. I need you-I need you so bad.”

Vincent drew back, his lips slamming into mine. Our mouths matched like puzzle pieces. We were so glorious together that I swear I could hear angels singing in perfect harmony.

“What would you like me to do to you ma belle, hm?”

He said in between fiery kisses.

“Make me cum, Vincent, please.”

His tongue slid into my mouth, giving me a fleeting taste of his passion before he quickly yanked it back. I was flustered. Our connection had been severed, and I was unsure as to why.

Vincent grasped my chin, forcing me to keep my head still.

His hair was struggling to remain neat. The single, dangling strand was a great metaphor for his once well-kept demeanor now crumbling before my eyes.

“Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.”

He demanded.

Mt jaw quivered. His hand had retreated from my core and now lay atop the swell of my hip.

“P-Please Vincent. I need you. I need you so bad.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

“Oh, ma chérie, I know you can do better than that.”

He placed his lips to mine, swiftly reigniting the flame before suffocating it once more.

“Be my good girl and beg.”

I locked gazes with Vincent, feeling his sexual energy course through my body in waves.

“Please-“

I began, my desire somewhat strangling the words within my throat.

“Please Vincent… Please, I need you to make me cum.”

I brought my palms to his chest, attempting to quickly unbutton his dress shirt. Unfortunately, my hands were far too jittery and the buttons were far too small for me to make any significant progress.

“What exactly do you want ma belle, hm? Tell me.”

His velvety accent wafted through me whenever he spoke, adding to the wetness that had begun to pool in my panties.

“Please, please. I need you.”

Thankfully, the sexual tension had subsided just enough for me to compose meaningful sentences.

“Please, please, I need you. I need your mouth between my legs. I need-I need you to fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please, please make me cum it’s all I can think about.”

A devious smirk spread across Vincent’s face.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He connected our lips, reigniting the raging fire of desire that burned between us. Vincent hoisted me off the floor, his large hands traveling up my short sundress and resting against my ass. He carried me with ease, his hands gentle but his lips aggressive.

Vincent tossed me onto the bed with little regard for tenderness. However, I was barely impacted by the blow, as the mattress quickly suppressed and conformed to my physique.

I lay, my gaze fixed upwards towards Vincent’s lanky frame. The dim yet sensual lights foregrounded the sharp curvatures of his face. His long digits located his top button and he began to leisurely undo his shirt without breaking eye contact.

Suddenly, I became aware that my dress had ridden up my thighs, exposing my evident desire. I grasped the hem, pushing it downwards in a futile attempt to conceal my yearning. Vincent ceased his movements, crawling over the end of the bedframe with haste.

His hand wrapped around my wrist, pinning my hand above my head.

My eyes darted upwards, the breath hitching in my throat as I perceived his close proximity. Vincent’s previously quintessential appearance was slowly dissolving. A few strands of hair had broken loose from their original location and were now dangling aimlessly above his brow. Furthermore, his shirt was halfway undone, exposing his prominent collarbone and somewhat highlighting his toned chest.

“Don’t cover up for me, ma belle.”

He murmured, his sultry accent sending a wave of desire to my lower abdomen. My cunt throbbed.

“I want nothing more than to see every inch of you.”

Vincent lodged his thigh between my legs, his clothed knee grazing against my hot core. I jolted, a wave of heat coursing through my body. My back arched instinctively, mouth falling open as I involuntarily ground my hips against his thigh in an effort to increase friction.

Unfortunately, he revoked his leg before I was able to procure further pleasure. His free hand followed the soft curve of my side, sending shivers down my spine. My body became cold with anticipation. Goosebumps rose along my skin.

Vincent’s calloused fingertips grazed against my clothed clit. Heat radiated from my wet core as I squeezed my eyes shut. My brow furrowed as he began to slowly draw figure eights onto my clit.

“Ah, you are so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

His soft lips connected to my jugular, peppering gentle kisses down my neck.

“I’ve thought about this moment for a long while.”

With his hands required to support his weight as he descended, his powerful clasp released my wrist. I entangled my fingers in his silky hair, further ruining his pristine image.

“Although I pride myself on maintaining a certain level of class, I can’t deny that I’ve often thought about how satisfying it would be to bring you immense pleasure.”

He continued to press his lips against my hot skin, his face now level with my clothed breasts.

Vincent leaned back on his knees. He dragged his eyes up and down my frame, running his tongue across his bottom lip. I suddenly felt small under his gaze.

His tender fingertips located the ball of my ankle, and he hastily removed both of my short heels, tossing them aimlessly to the floor. After he had discarded my shoes, he trailed his large palms upwards, caressing my calves, then my thighs. I watched intently as his veiny hands slipped under the hem of my dress. Vincent hooked a finger in the waistband of my panties, dragging them down my legs at a painfully slow pace.

Once I was fully exposed, he assumed a position between my legs. Thankfully, the bed was grand enough for him to lay comfortably.

All the blood in my body had rushed to my core, and I could feel my heartbeat throbbing vehemently within my lower abdomen.

Vincent trailed his moist lips along my inner thigh, gazing up at me devilishly through his lashes as he did so. He was well aware that his teasing behavior was propelling me into a state of lust filled desperation.

When he established that he had prolonged my suffering enough, he hastily buried his face between my thighs. I gasped, throwing my head back onto the opulent pillows. My thighs instinctively clenched around his head, but Vincent’s strong hands pulled my legs apart to free himself.

He flattened his tongue against my clit, taking his time to draw out his movements so as to not supply me with an orgasm too hastily. He was thoroughly enjoying the elongation of my pleasure.

After a brief moment of supplying delicate sensations to my clit, I felt the tip of his finger prod at my entrance. I threw my hands upwards, grasping onto the bed frame, my knuckles quickly turning white.

“Oh fuck!”

I exclaimed, grinding my hips against his gorgeous face.

“Vincent-Vincent your mouth feels so good, holy shit.”

I spoke in mangled cries, not caring to keep my voice down. After all, there was no one around for miles to be bothered by my proclamations.

His middle two fingers pushed into my entrance, thrusting upwards to stimulate my walls.

“You taste wonderful, ma belle.”

He uttered, continuing to fuck me with his fingers throguhout the duration of his praise. Vincent located my g spot. My nails dug into the bedframe, undoubtedly leaving prominent scratches. He took note of my non verbal cues.

Vincent increased the intensity of his fingers. Quickly, the coil of pleasure began to tighten within my lower abdomen. I bucked my hips against his face, but Vincent quickly stifled my movements by pressing my hips into the mattress.

“Are you close?”

He murmured against my clit. The gentle vibrations set my nerves ablaze with white hot desire.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so close.”

I mumbled, my arms beginning to tremble as I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my orgasm begin to seep into the corners of my brain.

Vincent’s long digits expertly located my g spot with every thrust.

His warm mouth continued to duck and stimulate my swollen bundle of nerves.

The erotic sounds of his fingers fucking my cunt reverberated loudly throguhout the predominantly empty bedroom.

“Then cum for me, ma chérie.”

His endearing words proved to be the last necessary step in reaching my release. The tension that had built within my stomach exploded as I came gloriously all over his face. My back felt as though it had been rammed into a solid brick wall.

My chest heaved, and I found it arduous to supply my lungs with sufficient oxygen.

My eyelids began to flutter open as the movements of both his tongue and fingers slowed. When he removed his digits and mouth, I was overcome with a glorious sensation of complete satisfaction. Both my mind and body succumbed to bliss. I had never before experienced such an absence of disquiet.

Vincent climbed over me, his torso now bare.

I cracked a small grin, my palms flattening against the expanse of his soft chest. His lips shone with my arousal. I trailed my fingertips slowly downwards, halting when I reached his thick leather belt. I began to undo the buckle, however, Vincent caught wind of my intentions. With one hand, he engulfed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. I gasped.

“Oh, no, not now.”

His gentle lips tenderly kissed the soft divot behind my ear. I took a deep breath, the scent of his pricey, heavy fragrance clouding my mind.

“I have waited far too long for this moment. It would be foolish of me to allow you to furnish pleasure when my desire has been consuming me for years.”

Vincent moved off of me and stood to remove the remainder of his clothes. With a pleasurable whoosh, he pulled his belt from the loops of his formal pants. Subsequently, he removed his shoes and allowed his trousers to gather about his ankles.

He met my stare, the mellow hue of the faint overhead lights collecting within his green irises.

“You look beautiful.”

Once again, the heat from my body began to travel downwards.

Vincent’s boxers were the final article of clothing to be removed. I gulped audibly, as his sizable cock was now standing fully erect.

Holy shit, I thought to myself.

He possessed one of the most winsome cock I had ever laid eyes on. I clenched my thighs together, my cunt eagerly clenching around nothing.

When he had finished undressing, he climbed back over me and our lips met once again. I melted into the kiss, exhaling sensually as I sunk into the plush mattress. Vincent’s hand grasped the hem of my dress, tugging it upwards until I was forced to raise my arms.

Thankfully, the supportive nature of the outfit allowed me to function in the absence of a bra. As a result, my entire body was now fully exposed for Vincent’s piercing gaze.

He discarded the dress and dropped his hips suggestively until his prominent erection pressed against my lower stomach.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, beckoning him to progress further. Vincent shuffled his hips, tip now dangerously close to my aching cunt. But, before he slipped inside of me, he raised a free hand and tenderly brushed a few unruly strands of hair from my damp forehead.

“If you wish to stop at any moment, merely apprise me and I shall cease.”

I gave him a nod, throwing my arms around his neck to provide an anchor. Vincent pressed his lips to my neck, applying a few gentle kisses before sliding his cock into my wet cunt.

My walls stretched, hastily conforming to his rather large girth. My back arched into his solid torso. I inhaled sharply as he buried the entirety of his length deep within me.

“Are you alright, ma chérie?”

His body stilled. I groaned in mild frustration.

“Y-yeah. I’m more than alright. P-please just fuck me already. I-I need you so bad.”

Vincent pulled back. His lips were plush. His hair was disheveled. His cheeks were a bright shade of pink.

His disarranged appearance was a stark contrast to the previously sophisticated man I had met at the start of this afternoon. However, I do consider the duality of man to be a topic of the utmost enticement. There is something captivating about the notion of commencing a relationship with someone who has a secret side that solely you have the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.

Without further words, Vincent began to roll his hips. The slight pain of his cock quickly dissipated to create room for immense pleasure.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“Does that feel good? Hm?”

He spoke with a slight vocal fry. The raspiness of his tone elicited a visceral reaction. I dragged my nails along his smooth back, undoubtedly breaking skin.

He grumbled deep within his chest.

When I didn’t answer, Vincent pulled his face back, blown pupils meeting mine. I gazed at him through half lidded eyes. I found it difficult to ignite passionate eye contact when I was presented with the distraction of his cock expertly grazing against my g spot with every fervent jerk of his hips.

He wrapped a large hand around my neck. My pulse rose to the top of my skin as black spots began to cloud my vision.

“Come on, ma belle, be my good girl. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

I exhaled a shuddering breath.

“F-fuck… you feel so good inside me Vincent.”

I gulped.

“Y-your cock feels so good.”

Vincent’s skin began to sheen with a thin layer of perspiration. The unruly strands of brown hair deepened in color as they stuck to his forehead. I moaned pornographically as the grip on my neck constricted once more. My jaw dropped. The brief lack of oxygen only added to the flurry of incoherent thoughts bouncing around my skull.

“Oh, my, you’re such a good girl for me.”

He gulped, a soft sigh escaping his swollen lips.

“You’re taking me so well.”

The erotic words combined with his smooth accent contributed to the tightening of my lower abdomen.

I was close, dangerously close.

I could feel my body reaching the edge, and I would soon fall into a state of euphoria.

Vincent’s adjusted his hips ever so slightly, his tip now reaching deeper than before.

I instinctively turned my head away. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I buried my face into the bed. My brow furrowed. My eyes squeezed shut as I anticipated my release.

Vincent utilized his thumb to reposition my face.

“No, don’t look away. Be my good girl and look me in the eyes.”

I forced my eyelids open, meeting his piercing stare as ever so slightly increased the frequency of his thrusts. Every instinct beckoned me to throw my head back, but I fought the desire. And, I instead kept my eyes fixated on Vincent’s blown pupils that had almost entirely consumed his irises.

“I want to watch you. I want to see your face as you cum all over my cock.”

I gave him a slight nod, indicating that I could hear while trapped in my lustful stupor.

His hand traveled downwards, gently caressing my curves before reaching my swollen clit. Vincent applied gentle pressure, and, with that, I let go.

I kept my eyes fixated on him, allowing my face to contort as it pleased.

Vincent groaned loudly, his cum coating my walls.

He continued to fuck me throguh my orgasm. His movements gradually slowed as the fog of euphoria began to dissipate. My chest rose and collapsed with fervor.

When I deemed it safe to break eye contact, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. Suddenly, I became aware of the gravitational pull the bed exerted on my body.

Jesus, I was exhausted.

Vincent removed his cock from my core. However, he remained atop me, tenderly pushing my unkempt hair back to create mild uniformity.

“You may stay here, if you’d like, for however long you wish.”

His voice was as it had been prior to our physical encounter.

I giggled, my mouth breaking into a slight smile.

“Your house is magnificent.”

I met his gaze, his eyes now possessing a tender quality.

“I don’t know if I ever want to leave.”

I said with a scoff.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips.

“Then don’t, stay here for as long as your heart desires.”

#marquis de gramont x reader #marquis x reader #marquis de gramont #john wick series #john wick smut #john wick movies #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick #john wick 4 #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skargard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard icons

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6lostgirl6 · 1 year

Note

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!!

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.

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed

#john wick #john wick series #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick headcanons #john wick imagines #john wick x fem!reader #yandere!john wick x fem!reader #john wick x reader #yandere john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #yandere john wick x y/n #john wick x you #yandere john wick x you #yandere john wick #yandere #male yandere #keanu reeves

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telekinesis-mind-control-comics · 3 months

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evangelifloss · 6 months

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HUMANA HUMANA ARK ARK ARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF HNGGG FHDNDNSJSJSB

I AM NORMAL I AM NORMAL I AM NORMAL

Side note: Preorder here

https://www.sideshow.com/collectibles/john-wick-john-wick-hot-toys-912659

#frothing at the mouth #ive waited so long for this #my husband my man my beloved #john wick #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #keanu my beloved #john wick series #lionsgate #hot toys

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arece · 1 year

Text

Heart to Heart Universe Masterlist

♤ John Wick x platonic!f!reader (father/daughter duo) (finished)

(completed)

♤ Late Arrival

♤ Never Saw the Start

♤ Walking Parallels

♤ Time Played Apart

♤ Days We Were Together

Drabbles/requests in the universe: (completed)

@knightmallorie playlist for the series

♤ What if reader was afraid of dogs?

♤ John helps reader with her homework

♤ Reader has a nightmare

♤ Akira x reader

♤ Song association!

♤ Reader can't move on from John

♤ Caine looks after reader (head cannons)

♤ Reader comforts John

♤ Reader gets sick

♤ What if: It had been reader instead?

♤ Reader begins to forget

♤ Reader and Aurelio get closure

♤ Reader accidentally breaks something

♤ Reader's birthday

♤ Reader's origin story

♤ Reader plans John's funeral

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

Taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @tamnight @hesvoid34 @scarletmeii @romanreignsluver1 @wi1steria @not-a-big-slay @howlerwolfmax @mizzy-pop @sarapaprikas-blog @angrykitsune01 @commanderfreethatdust @wisepizzatart

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x fem!reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick #keanu reeves #platonic #fem reader #john wick father figure #fanfic #john wick imagine #john wick one shot #john wick series #arece drabbles

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not-a-big-slay · 11 months

Text

birthday

John Wick x platonic!fem!reader

summary: while watching TV, you go on a rant about the absurdity of birthday gifts...

warnings: fluff, father-daughter relationship, established platonic relationship, horrible ahh parents, very tooth rotting, hopefully not ooc, trauma...

a/n: this platform has a lot of daddy john, but not much of dad john and that needs to change...this shit long as hell though, hope you enjoy it :)) also kudos to whoever finds the se7en reference

The hum of the microwave, heating up his food from the previous evening, rushed across the room and slowly mixed with dimmed voices of the television. The sun has already set and the remainings of its light shined into the room through red clouds.

John patiently waited for the beep, approving that he can eat his meal. It went unheard as you exclaimed from the living room, silencing it. "That's ridiculous." John looked over, but he could barely see the reason for your sudden speaking. His hands retrieved the plate from the microwave and he finally joined you on the couch. "These folks got their 16 year old daughter a car. A car, John." you widened your eyes at the man when ending your statement while said person just moved his eyes from you and the screen, trying to understand your reasoning.

You noticed his confusion and helped his mind get rid of it: "I mean, why? Like how is 16th birthday important? It's not like it's a big milestone. I'd understand 15 maybe, but 16? It's such an.. unsatisfying number, ugly even and not important." John seemed to get your thought, so you sinked back into the couch. "You get a license at 16." reasoned the assasin, catching your attention immediately. You looked over to him, furrowed eyebrows sending the signal of disagreement. "Which is bullshit, by the way, kids shouldn't be on the road." you stated before continuing, "But they got her a brand new car, she doesn't need all that, they could have given her like their old one or just let her share theirs, she is 16 how often will she drive that thing." while talking you have made so many hand movements that John needed to sit further away, worrying you might smack him.

The television broadcasted some reality show about spoiled kids from non-rich families. Neither of you really payed attention, but it served as a good backround while doing other tasks. That is until you got interested in its bizarreness. Parents, that previously stated they each had to find 2 jobs to keep their kids in school, bought their youngest daughter a new car. It was even one of the newest models as John noticed. They have said they would do anything for their kids and that birthdays were always so important in their family. That pissed you off, apparently.

“I know this comes from a place where no love was showed, but still, too much..”

John knew about your past, you knew about his too. You were just a kid when he first met you, both of you pursuing a man with a contract on his head. You have made a good competition and teamed up with the Boogeyman after many failures to kill him. After going through a near-death experience together, the two of you became a good friends and John slowly made plans to introduce you to Helen. He didn't plan on the introduction being at the funeral. His abandoned feelings of protection that were, until that day, stored for his wife poured into the other closest person to him and you gladly accepted them and even returned yours.

To say John was relieved when you obliged him with the refuge he sought after being marked excommunicado would be an understatment. Though he wasn't enterily thrilled after you insisted on fighting for him, you were the reason he could even have this absurd conversation in the first place. Being free could never feel so good without you.

"Like what did you get for your 16th birthday?" your voice pulled him out of the waters of his mind, the young eyes tracing his. He soon found his gaze interested in the empty plate on the table and with a sigh he reached for it and started to get up. You almost accepted he wouldn't answer, but his mouth let out the answer before you could: "A gun and a victim. Just like on any other day." John disappeared into the kitchen, but your loud "Damn." found it's way into his ears anyway and uplifted the corners of his mouth. Ruska Roma didn't care about these sorts of things. For them birthdays were just for the books and to track their age, no party, no gifts. The only gift he got from them was the cross, a symbol and a reminder he belongs. His first birthday party was with Helen and it was unusual to say the least.

You said sorry as he came back to the living room and John could see the regret and discomfort on your face. You got too talktive that you forgot this fact. The man came to your rescue and quickly varied the discussion. "What about you?" he asked as he sat down, petting Dog as he filled out the space between you two. Your mind digged deep to find the answer, John assumed from your scrunched face. At last, you shrugged: "I don't know. Money? Some candy too, I guess..." The voices from the television flowed in the house, but neither of you could hear them, too invested in whatever you started. The Boogeyman raised his eyebrows at you and you narrowed them in response, confused.

"That's much worse." he scoffed.

"Worse than having to kill a person?"

"Yes."

Your mind fully froze, not able to function properly. John internally laughed at your expression, but decided to not torment you any longer. "Parents giving money to their child is just sad. Money as a gift basically says the person doesn't know or care about your interest, so they give you money to make up for it." he started to explain, "Now, you can get some dollars from your other relatives like grandparents, counsins, aunts and uncles, because you don't see them everyday, they are allowed to not know what you like. But parents? People that live with you and provide for you should be at least familiar with it.."

He left you speechless, that he knew. Your mouth was slightly opened when he finished his monologue and slammed shut when you seemed to realize. "Well," you began once every word John shot your way striked you, "thanks for the additional reason to hate my fam more." You brought out a smile, but John's fell a little when he heard that. While not knowing him well yet, you told him you were an orphan, which wasn't surprising. Everyone in this deadly industry had no chance to have a normal, healthy and loving family. At least not that he knew of. What did shock him was when you admitted to lying after the funeral. Yet you wished to be an orphan, you had the bad luck to be born in a cruel home. Mother, a guilt-tripping monster with a victim mentality, and a father, anger-issued fanatic that tried to shape his children into his made-up idea of them. You moved out as a 17 year old and to at least finish high school, bowed to the High Table. You never had a stable home, John changed that. He offered you a place to stay once he was free again, he wanted you close to protect you, but also knew you could help with his old loneliness that never seemed to leave him. He never told you how much of a help you actually were.

John focused on the present moment again when you said: "I-I still can't see how can it be worse than a murder. At least I didn't work for money and got them for being born." Dog got up and let out a little bark. A sign for hunger, as you both understood. It got dark already and you gladly followed the dog's steps into the kitchen, John already in the lead.

"Ruska Roma at least didn't hide their uninterest, I knew what not to expect." he argued back as he reached for the dog pellets. Dog started eating before John finished filling up the bowl. That made you smile as well as hungry. John, as if almost sensing it, grabbed a plate and started to heat up the rest of the food. The familiar humming sound greeted the room again.

"Ah well, let’s just agree we both got worse gifts than a car and move on." you streched your hand out while the other rested on the counter-top of the island. John replicated your smile and shook your hand. The silence following right after sealed the agreement and the microwave dinged as in celebration. You walked across the island to take your food, knowing that John will be faster. "Birthdays are horrible anyway, I don't need to know I'm one year closer to death." you thought out-loud as the man handed you your plate. The food looked delicious. John always rather kept away from the kitchen, Helen was a great cook and even when he tried to make a meal, it ended in disaster. Once you moved in though, his guardian angels granted him the luck of finding an old recepe book his wife used. This was one of the easiest, but the quantity didn't define the quality.

"Would you rather not know how old you are?" John smiled and his eyebrows settled atop when you nodded. "Yep, I'd measure it in holidays." you joked, grabbing the cutlery, "In fact, I think 6th September should be erased from the existence. It's not an important day, no one needs it and it certainly doesn't bring any good." John watched you take the food to the table and changing the channel on the screen on the way, not realizing the crucial piece of information you just revealed non-chalantely. He didn't know your birthday, he just knew you were 18 when you met him, which was apparently 6 years ago. It was before he even engaged to Helen. He also understood you were old enough to drink once you downed 3 shots as if they were filled with tap water when you both tried to figure out how could John get out of his mess. Suddenly, a calender on the wall across him whispered his name.

Today was August 3rd.

.....................

Heavy sigh and the car door were last things he heard before feeling the dryness of his car. The raindrops that couldn't reach him before closing the vehicle were banging on the roof out of anger. John carefully placed the box on his passenger seat. He did everything he could to shield it from this afternoon weather, but some water managed to force itself through his coat, not enough to do a lot of damage fortunately. His eyes didn't peel away from it, John still wagered in his mind if it's a good idea. You weren't used to gifts from your real family, why should you accept his?

Without looking away, his fingers slipped the keys into ignition and his other hand played on the wheel nervously. He didn't take the receipt, he cannot return it. But he could survive the loss of money if this gift meant destruction of your bond. He wouldn't survive that. What if it's too far, you never cared for birthdays. For every September he has known you, nothing even remotely signaled him you might be different on the sixth day. You just wanted to forget you were ever born and he would set your mind back to the start with this reminder.

His logical sense slapped these thoughts away. You were a good kid, if you hated it you would tell him politely and be honest with him. And he knew you would keep it just for the sentiment you love so much. John turned the keys sideways and started following the mentally written route home, trying to keep his gaze from trailing to the passenger seat every now and then.

Even after parking in the garage and opening the passenger's door did he avoid the box's way. First he thought he could just close his eyes and take the box in his arms blindly, though overcame it and finally made contact with the white cardboard. A box is making him insane, brilliant. John grabbed the rest of his things and welcomed the hot air rushing to him as he opened the door inside. Dog barked at his owner as if he tried to warn John before rushing to him excitedly. The house was quiet and dim from the rain protecting the room of any light. You didn't bother turning on the lights and John knew you wouldn't. You hated the yellow glow it casted and how bright they were, natural lightning wasn't forcing itself into your view.

You came around the corner as the man got up from petting the good boy. He watched you ignore him, listening to music in one ear while the other earphone swished on your shoulder with every movement made. It was broken for a while now, but no one could be surprised. In the long time you've had them, you managed to step on them, close them in between the car doors and let the dog chew on one of the pods, which was the breaking point, John assumed. The rest worked fine, the quality still haunted him.

You turned around and caught a glimpse of him, immediately taking out the music and greeting him. He smiled in response while you already had your interest on the box, laying next to him. "What's in the box, Somerset?" you got close to it, but John was faster and picked it up quickly. Your eyebrows must have been suspicious of that act the way they connected.

"It's-uhh-it's-" the room picked up the heat as John's nerves shaked anxiously. He never had a problem with creating a lie on the spot, but your pose decorated with crossed arms on the chest somehow intimidated him. He was so sure you would be able to see throught the paper lid any minute now, so he tried to hurry his thinking up. "It's just some things for the car." he waved it off, leaving you slowly nodding in understandment, deciding not to ask any questions that you definitely had. John adored your capability of minding your own business, he more adored the fact you have learned it from him. You were very curious about everything when he met you, trying to know everyone around you to the last bit of detail. He was very strict about his personal life, so he introduced you to the concept of privacy through a lot of no's and death stares. Even now, when you two could be more than open with each other, you still didn't ask, nor cared.

"Want help?"

"No, I'll just take it to the basement."

"Alright." you said before putting in the earbud again and walking to the kitchen. John sighed heavily, hoping the nerves would settle down, and made his way to the basement. He hid it under a white dirty cloth, afraid it will disgrace the gift and left. Now the only thing left was to make sure you won't visit the basement for 2 days. 2 days, he realized. So, he is really doing it, huh? John froze thinking about the worst things that you could say or do as a reaction on his idea, the worst being you kill him, but that was unlikely, he'd done the math. Your humming got picked up by his left ear as he realized that the only moment to back up was in the car. He didn't, he missed it. The backdoor is closed and the only way to move is forward.

John checked the time. 6pm.

September 4th.

----------------------------

You were relieved that the store had air conditioning, because one more second in the outside heat and you would collapse. Your hands were trying their best at waving cold air on your head and chest, yet nothing could stop the sweat of going down your skin. Even though the sun has already set, the consequences of its hot presence still appeared in these late hours. You wanted to stop for second and cool off, but remembered you're supposed to get only one thing.

Salt.

It baffled you, why is it so important to get salt right now and not tomorrow as you were already getting ready to shower and to relax in bed when John asked you to get it. You weren't very happy about it, but you didn't feel like refusing him either. That man held a lot of respect from you and you never wished to upset him. Not that he would do anything bad to you, you just rarely told him no. Not sure where the need to please people came from, you were still happy it only applied to him. He deserved it after what he has done for you.

The store was as empty as its freshly baked pastry section. While strolling through, you only saw a few workers and some costumers hunting for evening snacks, all of them visibily tired. Your footsteps echoed in the big space, you wondered if they could be heard on the other side of the store. You thought about John's weird request, trying to justify it with a reason. None came to mind. Maybe he had a girl over, but you considered that unlikely. He clearly wasn't yet over Helen- reasonably so. Or he needed some alone time, you could admit being too annoying or too much for a quiet man like John, no judging.

The salt was hiding in a tricky spot, but luckily, thanks to your noticing abilities, you found it rather quickly and headed to the checkout. If the second reason was correct, you would be fine with sleeping somewhere else to not disturb his peace, but since you were already worn out and ready for the comfortable bed, you settled on taking the long way home, letting him enjoy at least the extra 10 minutes.

You knocked before entering, something you do automatically without waiting for a response. You kicked off your shoes, balancing your weight and the pouch of salt on one leg, and yelled out "I'm back." into the dark. The dark, you realized. Why were the lights off? The stars already began to shine when you were halfway home, so it was weird if John just forgot to turn them on. He wasn't the forgetful type.

"Hello?" you called out again, more quietly though, suspicion already growing deep in your stomach. Hearing the eery silence made you drop the salt and reach for a gun taped on the bottom of a dressing cabinet. Some comfort was brought by the click announcing safety is off, but it got lost in your high anxiety once you started walking deeper in the house, back steadily on the wall. The worst case scenarios accompanied you while every sense focused on the dark living room you happened to be in. You spinned around, walking backwards to the kitchen, your mind challenging the intruder to show themselves. Suddenly, the door creaked behind you and it was enough for you to turn around rapidly and caress the trigger.

After taking in the view in front of you, you finally exhaled and lowered your gun, whispering the lord's name in relief. There stood John, glowing in candle lights, distressed by your unexpected presence and, of course, by the barrel of a gun. You didn't notice the kind of candles. Your palm held your forehead in order to stop its stressful spinning and your brain desperately trying to convince your heart to calm down, you were too busy to recognize it.

Lights above you brightened your eyelids and you felt a pair of hands on your biceps. "What's wrong, what is it." John asked quietly, scared someone followed you home or has already done something horrible to you. You shook your head before sighing heavily, getting the last bit of shock out of your body.

"Shit, you scared the fuck out of me, John." Irritation attacked your tone as you leaned forward on the counter. Your mind only had pictures of the man dead on the floor with a bullet wound he gained from you. The bullet was so close to running out the gun and for what? For a cake?

Wait a minute.

Your head lifted up, eyes being instantly mesmerized by the flow of little fires on an icy surface. A cake. John has baked a cake. And you almost shot him for it. Your gaze flickered next to you. He was nervous, only you couldn't tell if it was from the near death experience from his own friend or from the possibility of you asking about the mysterious unexpected dessert. You made the latter come true.

"What is this?" you nodded to the cake, studying every move John made as though it would explain it for him. He took a deep breath before taking your own away: "It's for you. Happy birthday." The glow of the candles brought out your widened eyes, desperately trying to find a sign of a cruel joke on John's features. They failed to do so of course, you have never seen the man so serious.

It's been a while since you heard those words. You forgot how they hugged your heart and sugared your ears. You used to whisper them to yourself sarcastically with a harsh undertone when there was no one to trust or turn to. You've stopped though as it was cringe and overly depressing. You convinced your mind birthdays were for nothing, they give you nothing and are only important for knowing your age, nothing special. They made everyone emotional over a number of years and as long as you had no one, it was pointless in making it a big thing. It couldn't be denied John was your safe space, you would place your whole life into his hands and would be sure he'd keep it more protected than the High Table could ever be, you just never thought of bringing the concept back.

Amazed by the yellow waves again, you held your breath: "Are you serious?" John smiled a little as he answered: "Yeah. Now blow 'em out." You did as you were told, taking a deep breath and blowing it forcefully on the candles. They flickered and disappeared in the thin air. It was the first time in your life you got them all on the first try. Tears of forbidden nostalgia became impossible to hold in and you eventually let them go slowly from the prison of your eyes. When you made eye contact with John.

Without hesitation you close the space between you two and digged your face in the crook of his neck as your arms tightly wrapped his torso. His hands buried you in the feeling of safety and you felt shielded as they squeezed you into him. "Thank you." came out of you silently, only for John to hear. As a response, he took a step back to look at you. "You have no reason to thank me." his palm found its den on your neck as his eyes grew comfortable on yours.

You couldn't help but wonder if this is the way others feel on their birthday when they are surrounded by people they love and care for, by people that love and care for them. Because if it is, a big part of your birthdays was stolen, you would love them if they felt like this, you would wait a whole year only for this feeling, this sense of family, this certainity you are loved and you matter.

All of that left momentarily when John's hands let you go. "No reason to thank me yet." he bent down and came back up with a white box in his hands. He gently placed it on the counter next to the cake. After you clearly didn't understand what is supposed to happen, he gladly gave you a hint. "Open it." he motioned his head to it and you obeyed, carefully touching the lid as if it was a bomb that would go off any second. It's not like it was unlikely to hide a bomb inside a similar-looking box. You pressed the cardboard with your fingers and lifted it up.

You gasped quietly in order to help your mind take in the brand new headphones that shined at you maybe more brightly than the candles. They were white, wireless, so no annoying wire to slow you down, they were also overhead, too big for Dog to chew on them. You felt John's eager gaze, waiting for you to pick them up, but you felt even your stunned look would bruise them. You didn't deserve this, none of it. The happiness that danced into you the moment you realized John remembered your special day now began to look like a well-known and hated naivety. This love and luxury didn't belong to someone like you, what were you thinking.

"This- this is-" you began to panic. What would happen if you accepted it, would the world explode from the connection of two things that could never work together? You doubted it, but who would wanna risk it. "I can't accept this." Suddenly all you wanted was to run from the cake and the gift, you now felt like the bomb that you tried so hard not to light, that was supposed to be in that box. John's figure stopped you from going anywhere. "Yes, you can." You rapidly shook your head from side to side, his words couldn't distract you from the harsh reality. You weren't worth all of this.

"You are good enough for all of this and more." his calm tone was confusing for your stressed state, but the demanding adittude of his got through your walls and made you listen. "Take it, you deserve it."

Your hand subconsiously touched your necklace and pressed one of the daisies on it. It belonged to his wife, you found it when his house was blown to pieces and gave it to him once he started the repairs. He insisted on you keeping it, though. You protested, it was a gift for the love of his life, you couldn't take something that serious. "Take it. You found it, you deserve it." he said back then. You never knew her, yet you wore her jewelry, her gift.

"She would adore you."

Your eyes snapped to John, noticing him looking at your neck with a sad smile on his face. You lowered your hand and trailed your eyes back on your birthday gift. Without thinking you reached for the headphones, picking them up. They were suprisingly light and very comfortable to touch. As you put them over your head, everything went quiet. You didn’t know that an already silent room could get even more deafened, but here you were, hearing absolutely nothing.

"No way." you know you said, even though you couldn't hear it. John's smile got wider as you looked around in awe, it seemed like you were in a complete different place, not a boring kitchen. After taking them off, you sighed overwhelmedely, you could only imagine how beautiful the sound may be. "So?" John was interested, still a bit on the edge if the gift is good or not and only you could push him from it. However the only thing you did was throwing yourself around his neck, making him lose his balance momenteraly.

Before he could hug you properly, you already pulled away. "Now can I thank you?" you joked, but you could never make up for this. He had done all of this for you, that wasn't something you'd brush off with only two words. They lost meaning next to John's actions. "Yeah, now you can." was all you needed to hear to press into him again. John rested his head on top of yours, but not before kissing your hair and stroking your back.

You felt Dog nuzzling up against your legs and you looked down to see his happy, carefree face. He definitely woke up just no. You laughed and only noticed you were crying when tears fell into the corners of your mouth. You quickly wiped them away, turning away from John so he couldn't see. The man had the same problem though, also showing you his back while complaining silently about the dust getting into his eyes.

Once you both wiped your tears, you turned back around and laughed a little. This is all you needed. No assasin had this as far as you knew. Why two of the most deadliest people got visited by the biggest luck this world had in store. You looked back at Dog, his face excited for whatever you'd do. You sighed and rememebered the oh so good-looking desert on the kitchen counter.

"Want some cake?"

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neoarchipelago · 11 months

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Keanu Reeves - John Wick Masterlist

Keanu reeves:

Misbehaving (Daddy!Dom!Keanu x reader) One-Shot!

John Wick :

Mini Series:

Lisbon lights (completed)(fluff & romance Assassin!reader) warnings: curse words violence, blood, kidnapping, torture:

Sneak peek

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

Ghosts serie (completed) (fluff comfort Smutt) warnings: abuse, blood, depression, curse words.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

Bridegroom's oak tree serie (Mafia Lord!John Wick) HUGE DADDY DOM FROM PART 4 ONWARDS. Warnings: SMUTT 18+, daddy!Dom, mature content. (You can read part 1 and 2 for a basic romance fluff story)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

Citrus, Cauldron and Gun powder (Witch!Reader): Witchcraft, fluff, Smutt. Warnings: blood, dark topics, Witchcraft? Cursing, mature content.

MOODBOARD

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

Her teacher (Teacher!John Wick) warnings: Smutt 18+, mature content, curse words, violence, blood, stalking:

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

Halloween Special

Requests / One-Shot

Making it up to you (John Wick x Reader one-shot)

Wooden coffee table (John wick x reader)

Sleeping with a friend (John Wick x Reader)

Blood Red Marker and Binary Code (John wick x reader one shot)

#fanfics #fanfic #fanfiction #john wick fanfiction #johnwickgif #john wick x reader #john wick series #john wick x you #keanu reeves fic #keanu reeves x reader

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alexturner · 2 years

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No one, not even you, can kill everyone. JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4 dir. Chad Stahelski

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s1eep-o · 1 year

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savior.

parining: bodyguard! john wick x mafia daughter! oc

chapter: 1 of ???

warnings: shooting , fighting?, i mean it's john wick so.. lmk if i missed any though!! implied lowercase, srry.

i sigh while i continue to paint my nails, i could die for you by the red hot chili peppers playing in the background, waiting for my father to get out of and 'important' meeting. i thought i was going to go crazy until i heard a loud knock on my door. ''coming!'' i shout, screwing the cap on the nail polish bottle and turning down the music. i open the door to see my father and a tall man behind him with his back facing to me. ''sweetheart, i would like you to meet your bodyguard.'' my father says with a smile. a bodygaurd, are you kidding me right now? i've been doing perfectly fine for how long? practically my whol- my thoughts get cut off when i hear my dad clearing his throat. ''oh yes! of course father." i say with a sweet smile opening my door wider to invite them inside, turning away before i was able to see the face of the man.

as we sit in the seats around a small coffee table i finally look up after pouring everyone some tea. i thought i was going to faint, ''father. what is he doing here.'' i ask with a stern voice. ''sweetheart, he is here to protect you..'' he says quietly. i lock eyes with him.. the babayaga. ''but father.. the table is after him, no?'' i ask shakily, but my father puts a hand on my shoulder, ''you'll be fine. now get ready we are attending a party soon.'' he says sternly. ''jonathan, let's go.'' my father says walking out of my room. i made eye contact that was quickly cut off as he got up to follow my father out of the room. i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding and fall onto my bed. oh my god...the john wick is my bodyguard..?

timeskip to party.

i was standing in between my father and.. jonathan. we were attending some business party, my father insisted i come along saying that i had to ''put jonathan to good use''... who says that? ''ah, mr. romano!'' someone approached with open arms. ''excuse me, sweetheart'' he says to me as he walks away to talk to his ''work friend''. i take a small glance at the man next to me. what is he doing here being my bodyguard? what happened to being excommunicado and hiding from the table? it was to early to ask, ''i'm going to find something to eat.'' i mutter walking towards the large tables.

i grab a plate and place some crackers and cheese. that's it.. you're telling me these people have millions of dollars, but they serve crackers and cheese? whatever. i walk towards a small table and sit down, john takes a seat across from me. i start to eat my crackers and they are gone very fast. i look up from my plate to see him looking off into the party.. now that i see him in person.. he's not so bad- ''ms.romano?'' i hear johnathans voice and i get cut out of my haze, realizing i was staring at him. ''is everything alright?'' he asks ''oh yeah, i was just thinking... want to leave? this place is boring and i want some real food. and just call me arabella, yeah?” i ask.

we’re now sitting in some dingy fast food restaurant eating greasy burgers. well i was eating one, he just sat there quietly sipping on a black coffee. finishing my last fry i get up and excuse my self to the restroom. “mr.wick it is just a quick bathroom break.” he just lets out a gruff, “your father has assigned me to be by your side twenty four seven.” i give him the blankest stare “just wait outside the door, okay?” i groan.

we arrived at the house and we’re currently sitting in the garden, the sound of the small fountain in the background along with a cool breeze. i finally chose to speak up, “why are you really here..?” i ask looking up at the man who was towering over me as i sat on the cold marble bench. he gave me a small glance and opened his mouth, “let’s just say i owe your father a favor.” he answers in that deep voice. oh that voice it really just makes a woman want to-. my thoughts are interrupted again as my father walk into the garden, drunk. “ah, there you are! what are you two doing out here?” he slurs waving his arms around. i just roll my eyes and walk back into the manor to get ready for bed.

i wake up to the smell of sweet strawberries and fresh coffee. going down the stairs and through the corridor into the kitchen i see that maria has cooked breakfast. “oh maria darling, you are so sweet.” i say as i walk towards her and embrace her. i take a seat on one of the stools on the island and start to fill my plate. lost in the amazing food i didn’t notice the man next to me. “well good morning sleeping beauty.” i tell him, sending a small nudge. he just responds with a harsh side eye as he continues to drink his coffee. “get ready we’re going out!” my father shouts from the top of the stairs. “how are you not hungover?” i asked with a fake shocked tone, “plus we already went out last night.” i groan. “oh no you’re going out, i have a meeting to attend to and i don’t want you locked up in the house all day.”

i was browsing the clothing racks when i heard a blood curdling scream, before i could even look up johnathan pulls me down by my wrist. “stay low, okay?” i answer with a quick nod. i was following him closely and holding onto his sleeve for the life of me. “what’s happening?” i whisper, and he just shushes me. “there!” a man shouts causing the both of us to turn around, a bullet flying by. johnathan pulls the both of us up off the ground and pulls a gun out as we start to run towards an exit. the exit quickly gets blocked by another man who starts to fire, but john puts his jacket up stopping the bullets. he has his arm around my waist now as he’s dragging me along with him. should i be getting butterflies right now? i’m literally close to death and this is what i’m feeling? more gunshots go off and john pulls me into his chest as we take cover behind a collum. he peaks over the collum and takes two guys down. we find an exit and leave quickly and quietly.

“what just happened?!” i shout as we’re running through the parking garage getting into the car. “long story short,your dad pissed someone off and wants you dead.” he says as we start to drive out of the garage. pulling my seatbelt the car takes a hard turn, gunshots getting fired at the car. “oh my god. can i at least put my seatbelt on!” i exclaim. my palms are sweating and i’m stressing, i look over to john to see him shooting at the cars behind us. “john look out!” i scream.

A/N

so guys this is what i have so far.. let me know if i should continue it! i don’t know about it so with your guys feedback i’ll know if i should. have an amazing day/night/afternoon. xoxo ◡̈ EDIT: i changed a little bit of the story so uhh yeah sorry!!

chapter two is out!!

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick series #john wick 4 #john wick 1 #john wick 2 #john wick 3 #multifandom account #multifandom writer

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gxbbyhoneybadger · 1 year

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The Jade Viper IV

Pairing: John Wick x !F!Reader

Summary: Blood is shedded when one of Y/n's old enemies appears and attacks John, getting away injuring him and killing one of their loved ones. Y/n is filled with rage and guilt for what happened to John, knowing that she must eliminate her Clan once and for all on her own. But John isn't going to let her go alone, and Y/n must protect him at all costs.

Warnings: blood, gore, violence, knives, guilt, trauma, torture, scarification, physical abuse, animal death, injuries, adult language, guns, attacks, angst, comfort, fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

~Y/n pov~

I woke up with a silent gasp, letting my eyes focus. I was warm, and was somewhere soft. It was night, I was in bed with John. It happened, it really did happen! My head was resting on his chest—my leg rested over his, I closed my eyes to fall back asleep, but something kept me up. We weren't alone.

It was still dark out, probably close to two AM. Slowly, getting up from the bed, I found my shirt and undergarments before stepping out of the room. I walked down the steps, so quietly, not even the greatest listeners could hear me—I stepped near the large windows, I saw my eyes and face, it felt off—til I finally realized who was hiding behind my reflection.

A gasp flew out of me and I jumped back when the glass had shattered, I caught a blade that was aimed at my face. I threw it back and managed to hit the black cloaked intruder in the shoulder.

"Great aim, sister." The cold voice whispered, I glanced at the two shadows who walked out of the halls and the broken window; I simply stood there and clenched my fists, ready for a fight. I counted three in total, one female and two males. "Did you think you could escape us? Father expects your arrival by our hands." Takeda said.

His voice was cold and coated with bloodlust, he was my elder brother. Always known for bringing back the head of his victims back to the Grandmaster. "No, I know I can by killing you." I answered. His nose and mouth were covered by the black hooded mask, he reached behind him and grabbed the hilt of his katana.

"I think it's time for a rematch, little sister." He growled, I listened to the two surrounding me from behind. My mind flew back to John upstairs, I had to hurry and get to him before they realize. "You seem worried. . . I can hear your heart pounding louder, sister." Katora purred while holding a series of shurikens in her hands.

I stood in my fighting stance, watching Takeda mainly, he was the bigger threat compared to the two others. He's more experienced, he knows the costs of losing and bringing back nothing to the Master.

"Took you long enough." I growled, he threw the first punch and I dodged it. Grabbing a dagger from his side and half turning to stab it into Katora's inner elbow.

I have to aim for the vital parts in their bodies, I heard their blades being unsheathed—I kicked Masoa and punched Takeda in the throat before Katora kicked my back; the dogs started to bark before Bones leapt and attacked Masoa. I managed to grab Katora and place her in a headlock—I manged to snap her neck swiftly before dodging a kunai that sliced across my left cheek.

Bones leapt and attacked Takeda, distracting him enough for me to swiftly eliminate Masoa by his own katana. His throat slit as his blood drowning him as I turned my attention to Takeda who threw Bones across the room. I kicked his stomach and elbowed his jaw, I hissed when his blade pierced right below my ribs.

He push kicked me against the wall and grabbed my throat—I fought back and shoved my thumb into his left eye, adding force behind it as he snarled through his teeth. A gunshot went off and Takeda ducked, but the bullet grazed his neck. I fell to my knees but grabbed the kunai next to my hand.

Takeda snapped his attention to John who looked at me, I leapt and shoved Takeda off his track towards John and managed to slice his right cheek with the sharp tip of the kunai, he growled before running and disappearing into the shadows outside.

Leaving us. "Y/n!" He said as he ran to my side, "You're bleeding." I shook my head as I held my side. "I'm okay-" I heard the whimpering mewls coming from the side of the room—where Bones was lying.

I ran to her side, ignoring the pain in my body as I knelt and looked down at her panting body. Her mouth open as she hyperventilated, it was then that I saw her bleeding chest and stomach. "No. . . No, Bones." I whispered as I cradled her head, she whined in pain as I held her. John knelt beside me as I fought the tears.

"Bones. . ." I muttered to her, she was my friend. My very own support animal, she was a gift from him. I clutched the kunai in my hand before bringing it to her pulse, I shuddered when she made a small yelp before silence took over.

". . . She wasn't going to make it. . ." I whispered—removing the blade from her flesh. I dropped the weapon and rested my head on hers, "She was a gift from him. . . My sign of his existence before he was taken from me." I breathed out.

"Who, Y/n?" John's soft voice asked me, his hand resting on my left shoulder. "Yasu. . ." I muttered.

~~~

Yasu was a gentle soul, one that didn't belong in a clan such as this one. Grandmaster found him abandoned in a storm, took him in and trained him. His hair was as dark as night, his smile as kind as a flower, and his body sculpted by the discipline of the rules.

He was strong-willed, he broke rules at times. But he'd do it just to help me. I remembered being trained privately by our Grandmaster, every time I made a single sound—the bottom of my feet would be slashed by a bamboo rod. I left the dojo with thirty-eight slashes on both of my feet.

A punishment, reminders of what'll happen if I wasn't silent. I'd wake up to him soothing my pain with aloe vera; Yasu had a bright smile, the smile that would cause mine to show. But that bright smile was carrying the need for a better place, a better life.

That's the one thing Yasu has ever dreamed of, his own freedom. He told me that he wanted to escape, run away from this life and start anew. But he turned to me and confessed his love to me, he said his life was me.

Wherever I was, was his home, his heart, his spirit. We were simply eighteen years old, but he seemed more infatuated with the outside world we rarely ever witnessed. On one raining night, he had snuck out of his room. He woke me up and led me outside into the rain.

He had begun to climb the walls surrounding our land. He knew I was afraid of leaving the Grandmother, for I knew what he could do to us if we disappeared—he'd always find us. We were a part of him, as he is us. This was the way of the Crimson Clan.

He told me home would always follow close behind.

Yasu kissed my lips and said that he would always be waiting on my arrival to him. He dreams of starting a life with me, one with joy, freedom, and our own family. One that didn't shed blood for riches or power, just for love. And with that. . . He disappeared.

But not for long. . . Barely one day had passed before he was dragged back, tied to a post outside and shamed by the Grandmaster. He was whipped and tortured in front of us all, I couldn't move, I couldn't react.

I could only stand there, watching as my love was beaten right in front of me. I couldn't feel anything but pain. It was then when Takeda was honored with ending Yasu's life. Which he did with the Grandmaster's katana—piercing his heart and ending him.

They eventually dragged me to the front, kicked me down and I was punished in front of everyone. I was beaten to a pulp, given the order to not defend myself as my Master beat me with his fists and kicks, using the same bamboo rod to leave marks on my body. Even carving the symbol of the Clan into my lower back as I laid there in pain.

I knew I was forever one of them. . . But when I escaped, Yasu seemed to have known that I'd leave sooner or later. A strange woman came to me after I escaped and she left me a box with a letter. I read it and it was from him, he said he was going to be caught soon.

He wasn't as agile as I was, he admitted he accepted his fate but didn't want me to be suffering after his lost. So he left me Bones, she was the last memory and gift I've ever gotten from him. My chance to grieve and move on. . .

Until now.

~3rd pov~

John helped bury Bones in the backyard, where Daisy remained. John could feel the vengeance emitting off of Y/n, she stood from the grave and stormed back into his home. Bubba lied in his bed as he watched his owner follow after Y/n.

She approached the kitchen and pulled up a piece of the wall near the ground, sliding out a large thin box and a hidden drawer filled with shurikens. She grabbed another box behind the dryer and opened it, revealing a green and black outfit.

She lifted the top of the thin box and revealed a katana, shined and sharp to the touch. The hilt wrapped and designed with green snakes, "I'm going to end my Clan. . . I'll take the life of my Grandmaster, once he is dead—only then will I be free." Y/n said as John watched her pull out a sharp knife with a chain attached to the bottom of the hilt.

"Y/n, I'm not letting you do this alone. I know what it feels like to lose someone." He told her, placing his hand on top her own. "I can't let you get killed over my suicide mission, John." She whispered.

"You underestimate me." He said. "These are not normal people, John. They're bred to kill." She warned him. "As I was." He replied. ". . . I'm doing this so they'll leave us alone, I don't want you to get hurt."

John held her face and turned her to look at him, "And I'm going to protect you, too. I care about you, and I'm not letting you do this alone." He pulled her closer and kissed her. Y/n mewled against his lips as John felt her tears running down her face, he kissed them away as she held onto his shirt.

"I'm so sorry for bringing you into this." She whispered. "Don't be. I'm used to it." He replied, "Let's go and handle it together. I'll show you how to use a gun." She sighed against his lips before kissing him again. "I learned by watching you, John. . . Thank you, for everything. . ." Her eyes still shut as she let a tear fall.

"Forgive me, Koibito." She whispered, letting her hand cup the side of his jaw and neck—John lost his breath as darkness took over his vision when she triggered his pressure point: The Vagus nerve.

Knocking him out cold.

~~~

John gasped as he woke up, he was lying in his bed with the sun shining through the window. He then looked to the side and didn't see Y/n lying there. He immediately got up and ran out of his room and downstairs.

She wasn't there, Bubba was behind John as he clenched his fist. She left him, knocked him out, no trace of her destination. He knew it was dangerous, he knew she was skilled in her own ways. . .

But he couldn't let her go and possibly be killed by her Clan. John clenched his jaws before turning and searching for his suit and his guns. John had a new target, and he was determined to get the job done.

"Let's go, Bubba." He said. He walked to the garage door, wearing his fresh suit and carrying his weapon as he walked into his garage. He opened the door to his vehicle and let Bubba jump inside. He got in and started the engine.

Cars were rushing past her, the wind blowing through her hair as she leapt onto the top of a semi-truck. Her eyes vigilant as her heart beated for vengeance. Master Uzunye would be prepared. He knew his daughter well, he's trained her with his mindset.

His breath sighed as he slowly stood, walking out of his temple above the tall mountain. Grinning as he listened to the howling wind, "Come home, my daughter."

The training assassins below him were shouting as they kicked and punched, sweat and blood coming from their bodies. Uzunye's one good eye watched the mountains, counting the seconds for his daughter to return back to him.

Her feet were carrying her through the roads and the grass and the trees. Her katana at the ready, her fists urging for a fight, her legs prepared to break the bones of her siblings.

She was given the name for a reason, and she was prepared to use it to protect John. She was created and trained to serve him, and this is how she'll repay half of the debt to John and Yasu.

For she was the Jade Viper.

-----------------------------------------------------------

I'm so sorry this took so long, my work has been getting me distracted LoL

Part 5 coming soon! Yes, smut will be in chapter 5 ehehheh 😉

#fanfic #smutwarning #slow burn #john wick #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #john wick smut #john wick x reader #john wick series #keanu x reader #keanu reeves

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jeandejard3n · 16 days

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youtube

John Wick: Back From Retirement

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ilongfor-the-arts · 9 months

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Just read the museum marquis fic and I love it. I wonder what would a fanfic where the marquis de gramont met a ballerina reader?

Poetry in Motion

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: mild language

Summary: A tall and handsome man has been watching you preform for a while. What will happen when he finally chooses to introduce himself?

Word Count: 2.5k

I got multiple reqs for this! So, here ya go! Enjoy!

“You’re late Y/N!”

I dashed into the locker room, tossing my bag atop the dressing room counter.

“I know! I know! I’m really sorry! My apartment door wouldn’t lock and there was traffic and then-”

My director held up a hand, silencing me.

“I don’t care. Please-just, be ready to go by showtime.”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, yes, of course. I will be ready, I promise.”

She quickly turned on her heels and began walking in the opposite direction. Her blue dress swayed gently as the dancers rushed around her. Her spine was straight, her posture rigid.

I don’t blame her. I'm just as nervous as everyone else to see how this performance goes. Unfortunately, I'm a dancer, so rigid posture isn't ideal. I'm forced to keep my anxiety bottled up inside my head.

“Y/N.”

My friend called my name, jolting me from my trance. She was fully dressed, with a full face of makeup. She stared at me, completely stunned.

“Y/N, you better hurry! Everyone else is ready to go!”

I moved rapidly, quickly opening my makeup bag, praying I had enough time.

“What took you so long?”

I slapped my palms against the table, annoyed.

“Oh, Clara, it’s been such an aggravating day.”

I stared at my reflection, watching as the foundation completely coated my face.

“Do tell.”

I took out my eye makeup.

“Well, first my apartment wouldn’t lock.”

I closed one eye and applied eyeshadow as quickly as I could.

“My key wouldn’t work! And of course I couldn’t just leave my apartment unlocked so I had to bother my neighbor to get the spare key I gave her.”

I moved on to the other eye.

“Then there was so much traffic. Then I couldn’t find a good parking spot because I got here so late. Then I had to walk almost six blocks.”

My eye makeup looked... alright. Sure, if I had an extra hour, I could make it look fantastic. But, due to my unfortunate situation, I had to settle for average.

“Wow girl, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

I pulled out my blush.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think that cute guy will be here tonight.”

I scoffed loudly.

“He’s always here. If he goes four days without seeing a ballet, just assume he’s dead.”

Oh my goodness, that blush color was really clashing with my eyeshadow. Shit! I didn't have time to remove it and start over. Perhaps I could just add another color to my eyes, creating a strange hybrid color that would blend well with the blush.

“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve been here longer than you, and he only started going regularly once you got here.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, right. It’s probably just a coincidence. I doubt he’d spend a shit ton of money on fancy ballet tickets just to see some pretty girl dance.”

I watched Clara shrug from the corner of my eye.

“I dunno. He always dresses like he’s ready to meet the queen, and he sits in a box. He doesn’t seem short on funds. He definitely could be the type to buy ballet tickets just to admire you.”

Okay, the blush and eyeshadow looked fine. I could handle "fine." I could work with "fine.”

“I don’t know Clara. You know, when you watch a performance, faces and names blend together because there are so many people on stage. I doubt he picked me out of the crowd and decided I was going to become the object of his affection.”

I put on some red lipstick, trying not to be distracted by the fact that all the dancers I saw in the mirror were fully prepared.

“Besides, a handsome man like that?... he probably has a girlfriend.”

Clara perked up.

“Oh, so you admit you think he’s handsome.”

I rolled my eyes for a second time.

“I mean, come on Clara, look at him!”

Clara let out a loud and obnoxious laugh. My face turned hot. Thankfully, the makeup covered most of the natural pink that had begun to appear on my cheeks.

“Oh my God you have a little crush on him, don’t you!”

I held up my hands in defense.

“I am not having this conversation right now!”

I stood, rushing over to the costume rack.

“I’ve never seen him with a girl Y/N! I think he’s single and ready to mingle!”

Clara’s loud voice drew some attention. I swiveled on my heels and placed a finger to my lips.

“Sh!”

The show was finished, and the final bows were taken.

The roar of the crowd washed over me like a wave. I was moved to know that they were all applauding for this performance. As the entire company gathered for one final bow, I observed the crowd's faces contort into bright smiles. I felt moved knowing that at least one person in the audience was thinking about what a wonderful job I did tonight.

I hoped it was the man whose appearance I had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

The gold theater sparkled. The red seats gradually vanished as people rose to pay their respects to the performers.

I was unable to avoid glancing around at the various people in the crowd. I started in the box seats, hoping to spot a tall man with a penchant for fashion.

No luck.

My gaze was drawn to the floor seats. I scanned them all as quickly as I could. Maybe he sat closer? If he truly came to see me, it wouldn't hurt to get the best view possible in the front row.

No luck.

I'm not sure why I was so desperate for him to be here. Nonetheless, I felt my heart sink slightly as I considered the possibility that he missed tonight's performance.

We finished with a company bow. We waved goodbye, and quickly scattered off the stage.

“Y/N!”

Clara exclaimed as we walked back to the dressing rooms.

“You did so well! Jesus, I thought for sure you’d be all scattered from coming in late, but you really pulled it off well!”

I didn't notice her hands cutting through the air as she spoke. I didn't even bother looking at her. I kept my head down, stuffing various cosmetics into my black backpack.

“Thanks Clara.”

I said flatly.

“Alright, what’s going on? Who’s got you bummed?”

I grit my teeth.

“He’s not here tonight.”

Clara leaned in.

“What did you say?”

“I said he’s not here tonight!”

I snapped involuntarily. Clara retreated.

“Woah woah, how do you know this?”

“I didn’t see him in the crowd.”

Clara furrowed her brow.

“Come on Y/N, there’s thousands of people in that crowd! There’s no way you could’ve checked every seat for him!”

My lips were pursed. Clara wrapped her hands around my shoulders, soothing me. She leaned into my ear, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“I bet he showed up tonight. And if he didn’t, it was his loss entirely.”

The cold Paris air bit at my exposed skin. The chill penetrated my tank top, chilling me to the bone. I drew the sides of my peacoat together, attempting to conceal my torso and thighs from the wind.

I began to stroll, trying to enjoy the lovely Paris evening despite the fact that so much was less than ideal.

After about thirty paces, I was struck by an uneasy sense that someone was watching me. I initially ignored it. There were numerous high-rise apartment buildings. I'm sure that feeling came from being a window away from someone's living space, and the possibility that someone was watching me inadvertently.

I couldn't shake the feeling even after another thirty paces. The buildings in this particular neighborhood were completely dark. That is, everyone was sleeping, and if anyone was watching me, it probably would go unnoticed by bystanders.

I took a peek over my shoulder to ensure my intuition was correct.

About thirty feet behind me was a tall, lanky man in a black coat.

Alright, probably just a coincidence-

Wait.

I did a double take.

Holy shit.

It was the guy from the ballet!

This all is just one big coincidence.

I kept my head down, trying to maintain my composure.

His footsteps became audible. I focused on them, noticing that they were becoming slightly louder with every step.

Shit.

Shit!

God, this guy is a total creep! How could I be so stupid?!

I’m about to get totally kidnapped!

I started to move faster, trying to appear calm despite being aware that my heart was pounding in my ears. My blood rushed to my heart, leaving my face pale and cold.

God, he’s getting closer!

Jesus my stomach is in knots!

“Don’t look so frightened, darling.”

The man’s velvety accent pierced the air like a knife. My heart jumped.

I’m fucked.

“Really, I just want to talk with you.”

No way in hell was I stopping. My calves burned. My eyes were wide. My hands trembled within my pockets.

My chest came into contact with something solid. I stumbled back, looking up.

Oh my goodness, he was right in front of me.

How did he get there without me hearing?

The heat left my body.

I stood, wide eyed and perplexed.

The man's neutral gaze softened as he noticed my anxiety.

“I am very sorry to have frightened you, madame. I am simply a fan wishing to pay my respects.”

He placed a hand on his chest.

“I promise, I mean no harm. There is no reason to be frightened.”

He was considerably taller than me. In two seconds, he could pick me up and throw me into the back of a shady white van.

Nonetheless, his luxurious accent and courteous eyes made me believe he was telling the truth. So I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly.

“Did you come and see the show tonight?”

A smirk played on the corners of his lips.

“But of course. It would be foolish of me to disregard the opportunity to observe such talent.”

Wow, I'm going to give credit where credit is due. He’s a smooth talker. He speaks with such elegance. I'm unable to ignore his words. With bated breath, I await each sentence.

“Well, that is very kind of you to say.”

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black overcoat, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I only convey the complete truth. In my lifetime, I have seen hundreds of ballets, operas, and plays. It is uncommon to find such a passion for the arts in the hearts of the prefromers. Few people allow creativity to encompass every aspect of them. But, I have noticed fire within you.”

He glanced deeply into my eyes, as if he wanted to capture some of the "fire" within me and preserve it for himself.

“I can tell by the way you dance and command the stage.”

The gentle breeze rustled the end of his overcoat as his pale eyes shone in the pale moonlight. He exuded a sense of mystery that beckoned me to embrace the unknown.

“Your blood runs red with creativity.”

He came to a halt, his piercing gaze catching my lips before darting back to my eyes.

“And, your beauty is unmatched.”

Forget about my face being cold; it was now scorching hot. I just hope I kept enough blush on my cheeks to hide the natural pink.

He extends his leg, the buckle of his pricey loafer catching the moonlight. He steps closer, the wonderful aroma of whiskey and bergamot wafting into my nose. The scent cloud muffles my brain, making me dizzy with anticipation.

“How long have you been dancing for?”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Oh, well, my entire life. I started the moment I could walk and I’ve pretty much been in the dance studio everyday since.”

The enigmatic man nodded, pleased with my response. I took my hands from my pockets, as they were sweating despite the chill.

“And… Do you enjoy it?”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, I remember, um-.”

I took a deep breath, careful not to trip over my words and reveal that my heart was racing.

“I remember my first official dance class. I was- about four or five.”

I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.

“All the kids were complaining. I mean, y’know, at that age it basically is just an excuse for the parents to get their obnoxious kids out of the house.”

He chuckled.

Yes!

“But I never complained, not once. I loved it from the start. And, it’s completely consumed my life since then.”

He took another step forward. The distance between us was almost non-existent now. To meet his gaze, I had to almost completely crane my neck back.

“I can tell. You don’t just dance, you float over the stage. It really is beautiful to watch.”

His voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

“You are beautiful to watch.”

My stomach flipped.

My breath caught in my throat as he cupped my face with his hand. His grip was gentle, as if he were coddling a baby bird.

My mind was empty, a void waiting to be filled by him.

He exhaled deeply, a breath fanning over my face. I instinctively leaned into him, craving his warmth, craving his scent, craving…

Him.

He ran his calloused thumb along my cheekbone. My face was burning. I knew he could feel it beneath his palm.

He grinned.

“You have a very bright future in the arts. Paris is only the beginning.”

I could sense the tension rising. I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for something magnificent to unfold.

A hug?

A proclamation of love?

A kiss?

“I hope and pray that you will allow me to be an integral component of your bright future.”

He slipped something into my empty pocket sneakily. He smiled broadly. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was enticing, so simple yet so effective.

“Call me, Ma chère.”

He took a step back, turned, and began to stroll away. My shoulders loosened. My chest gave way. My cheeks had lost their warmth. The tension had been released.

I could breathe.

I could think.

“Wait!”

I shouted. He glanced over his shoulder.

His figure looked very intriguing. Most of his ridges and curves were hidden by his long coat. It enticed one to venture into uncharted territories.

“What’s your name?”

He scoffed.

“When you call, I will tell you.”

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6lostgirl6 · 8 months

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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

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.

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.

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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telekinesis-mind-control-comics · 3 months

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arece · 9 months

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hey. I'm feeing in an angsty mood so what so you think John's funeral would be like? anyways love your writing 🤗

Bury You

♤ Summary: Reader takes John home. The masterlist

♤ a/n: I'm gonna be completely honest, I wrote this one like right away because I had some thoughts on it. But the formatting and posting on tumblr felt too daunting so I really am sorry this came so late! (1.2k)

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

It had taken both Caine and Nobody to pry you from the death grip you held John with. Winston was barely holding it together himself, making arrangements on how to bring him home as a distraction.

You were nearly hysterical at the thought of having to part from him even for a moment.

You just got him back.

Nobody practically cradled you as you hyperventilated, clawing at his arms. Caine mournfully placed his jacket, covering John from your sight.

You had been so calm in his last moments, giving him that final minute of peace, allowing him closure and forgiveness. Now everything that you’ve suppressed came out in a flooding mess of emotions.

It’s like you couldn’t stick to one, quickly switching from anger to utterly overwhelming grief. Just a few minutes ago he was talking to you, he was in your arms and breathing, telling you that you were everything to him.

Now he’s dead.

The temptation to blame him dug its claws into you, anger was always easier than this gaping sadness. But no, deep down you knew why he did what he did no matter how much you hated that he did it.

Quickly becoming drained you numbly starred at the body of the man who had been your everything for such a short amount of time. How cruel he was able to have that strong of an impact on you that quickly.

Winston kneeled down to your eye-level but you merely blinked at him, practically seeing through him and to John. “It’s time to go home now.”

Your face contorted as you finally focused on him, “he was home.” Winston closed his eyes, almost like he needed a moment to collect himself.

“It’s time to bring him home.” You took a shaky breath, nodding softly to him. He grabbed onto your arm and with the help of Nobody, pulled you up.

It was time to plan a funeral, something he never thought he’d receive let alone with love, thought, and care put into it. You walked over to John, the last time you’d actually see him before you’d have to bury him.

“I don’t think I can ever hate you, but I’m trying really hard to forgive you,” you delicately whispered as you pulled down Caine’s jacket to properly see him. “I know what you did for me and I won’t ruin that. Not after what I lost for it.”

You were going to pretend for him.

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

You were told that the Bowery King had Dog, something that made you slightly bitter. You wanted to go to John’s place to sort through his things but Winston had grabbed you by the arm, trying to prevent you from leaving.

“What is it, what are you hiding from me now?” You yanked your arm from his grip, eye nearly twitching from the rage culminating, you’ve had enough of Winston’s secret keeping.

Winston sighed, “it’s gone. Blown up by a member of The Table’s little fit.” You felt winded at the realization that another piece of John had been taken from you. A sick type of karma that was determined to take away any trace of him, to erase the Baba Yaga, erase John Wick.

“I need to see it, Winston.” There was a part of you that held a naive inkling of hope, one that you knew would only crush you harder in the end. Maybe, just maybe, in the wreckage of dust and plaster there would still be something left, a piece of proof that there once was a time where it was just you and John.

The five peaceful years you had together of bonding and healing, of growing together until it was cruelly ripped away. Reality had struck a match and burned down the little life you two had built together.

It felt like a new type of sickness seeing the true wreckage of what once was your little safety net, your home. Yet, it still didn’t hold a light to the carnage it faced the night John lost you. To him it hadn’t truly been a home since then.

You walked through the piles of rubble attempting to place together where each room would be. From memory you make it to what used to be your room, still able to envision it vividly. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to truly encapsulate what used to be.

Your chest tightened at the thought of what used to sit on top of your nightstand, the only picture you’ve had of you and John. All of the evidence of the time you two dedicated to each other has been ripped away, leaving no trace. To the world there has been no John and you.

You should’ve stolen something when you were forced to leave. It was the one thing you were good at and you didn’t use it. If you had you’d still have a piece of him left.

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

John used to tell you that his Helen was his everlasting sun, the one thing that could shine brighter than the darkest depths of his haunting past. It only felt fitting to have his funeral set unconventionally early. It allowed for him to rise with the sun, with her.

You didn’t have it in you to move from your spot right at the front. You didn’t hold a ceremony, bitterly you wouldn’t know who to invite. It took his death for you to realize how truly little you were involved in the underground area of his life.

You just stood and stared, no conversation needed to be imagined because you two were never really good with words. In your peripheral you watched as people you’ve never seen before came to say their goodbyes to John, paying you no mind.

The only time you broke your train of focus was to reunite with Dog. It was the first moment of genuine joy you’ve felt since you’ve lost John. It’s been two years since you’ve been separated from her and it was soothing to be able to hold her again after so long.

She curled up at your feet just like she used to, joining you in your mourning. Bowery King stood back to not interrupt. All minor peace was ruined with Winston’s gentle hand being placed on your shoulder.

He dragged you back to reality and suddenly it didn’t feel like something you could wake up from anymore. “He decided I was worth dying for… what if he made the wrong choice?”

It was hard to feel like you held an important part of his life when at his funeral you were the stranger that no one knew of. Someone he had so easily given up on.

Winston’s grip on your shoulder tightened. “Johnathan has made a lot of mistakes in his life. Many.” Your eyebrows furrowed with effort as you tried to focus on the gravestone past the tears blurring your vision. “But acting as your father was never one of them.”

“That’s why his grave is marked with that.” He points to the head stone; Loving husband and father. “You were all he ever needed.”

You wish he was here to wrap you up in the safety of his jacket like he had before. “I’ve never had someone to miss this much before.”

⋯♤⋯♧⋯♢⋯

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