WAKE THE FUCK UP SAMURAIā¦JOHNNY SILVERHAND HAS A GIRLFRIEND!
Welcome to my blog, choom! Get to know me better:
girl, 22, she/her;
I speak Italian, English and Spanish.
pagan, chaos witch;
love animals, nerd, skin/hair/body care addicted;
Vivienne Westwood!!!
friendly, but shy;
randomly a writer, always a reader.
I write for Keanu Reeves and his characters and Cyberpunk, mostly. I also have many other obsessions and fandoms, though!
MY RULES:
no minors;
any form of hate is not allowed;
I wonāt write anything that makes me feel uncomfortable.
MY TOP 3 KEANU CHARACTERS:
SEARCH FOR THE TAGS āCHARACTER.AIā AND āJANITOR.AIā FOR MY BOTS,āNWHEREGIRL MADE THISā FOR MY IDEAS AND FICS, AND āNWHEREGIRL REPLIESā FOR ASKS!
Enjoy your stay!
(first pic: made with canva; my avatar: made with https://www.dolldivine.com/cyberpunk; gifs: pinterest.)
pov you randomly facetime johnny while he's busy working and you're fucking yourself stupid on a dildo that HE CUSTOM MADE FROM HIS OWN COCK AND BALLS and he's just so caught off guard like
Johnny rubs his eyes with one hand, squinting them at the unfinished script of the video game
the pen in his hand shakes as he circles and scribbles in comments about what he liked and what he didnāt like about what the script writer had put in
he wonders if he had hired an idiot because the dialogue sounded stiff and the staging of the scene seemed to make no sense
perhaps he should just hire a new editor and write his own script and then send it to an editor to have them tweak any small details he mightāve missed
his hand reaches out for the coffee cup next to him, and he lifts it up only to find it empty
Johnny looks up from his script with a disgruntled look, lips curved downward and eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the empty cardboard
throwing it into the wastebasket beneath his desk along with the three other empty coffee cups, he stands up from his seat, hearing the bones in his back creak and his knees pop with pain
he groans and presses both of his hands to his lower back, stretching out after spending so long hunched over his desk trying to edit this ridiculous script
maybe he should just go to bed, wake up with a fresh head and fresh eyes
Johnny glances once more over to the script, the red pen decorating the paper at almost every corner, and he lets out a displeased hum
for as much as the weight on his eyelids felt heavy, he really wanted, needed, to get this done tonight, at least before the next shoot happened
he checks his phone for the time, greeted with the sight of you as his lock screen, a bright smile on your face with the sunset perfectly framing you
you hadnāt been able to come with him this time to shoot the current movie, a new project at work had a deadline that happened to cross over into the workflow of the shoot, and you couldnāt afford to slack off
every day and night, he would text you updates about his day, how he felt, whether the food was good on set tonight, and you tried to do the same, complaining about your colleagues, your boss, the traffic getting to and from work
it never failed to make him smile as he read your texts
lately, however, the actors had pressing questions, the cameramen had questions and positions to be marked, the stuntmen needed more clarification on the moveset
he hadnāt had much time for you, and he tried his best to respond to you, typing as fast as he could with one hand as he went on lunch breaks, eyes glued to his screen whenever the actors needed a short break before they could continue
it was absolute hell for him to not be able to talk to you so freely
Johnny steps out of his trailer, trudging over to the coffee machine, checking his phone for any new messages from you
there are a few from a few hours ago, telling them that the dinner party you had been to had been a bust and that one of your colleagues had passed out from drinking too much
he smiles at the text and goes to text you back, quickly pressing the buttons on the coffee machine to give him the largest coffee possible, when your face shows up with your caller id
that was strange, it was past midnight for you usually youād be fast asleep at this hour, always claiming you needed your beauty rest to get an early start on the grocery shopping on the weekend
nonetheless, he picks up the call, āhey sweetheart, what are you doing up so late?ā and he blows on the steaming coffee in his cup and takes a sip
āām miss you, miss you Johnny,ā you sound breathless, words all slurred together and slightly too high-pitched to be normal
panic strikes through his heart, had something happened? were you safe? had something happened? Shang Tsung?
the memory of you being at the dinner party flits into his memory, and he realizes that youāre probably just drunk and a little needy for him, just as needy as he was for you
āare you drunk? you should go to bed, honey. drink some water before you do.ā Johnny takes another sip of his coffee as he starts striding back to his trailer
he wonders if youāll be able to get up in the morning, you always complained so heavily about hangovers, heāll send you a text in the morning to remember to take some medicine
āno, not drunk, want you, Johnny, hah-ā you practically whine into your phone, and Johnny stops in front of his trailer, hand frozen, his phone tucked right between his ear and his shoulder
suddenly, with his phone so close to his ear, he can hear the faint shuffle of the bedsheets, the way you breathe heavily into the mic and the familiar wet squelch of your pussy
Johnny practically rips the door open in his hurry to get inside, āoh honey, i know, what do you want? tell me.ā
suddenly, the coffee in his hand seems redundant, not when adrenaline rushed through him, the thought of you so desperate for him on the sheets sending all of his blood rushing downwards
he places the coffee on his desk and sits on the edge of his bed, pressing his phone as close to his ear as possible to hear you
āwant you, want you to kiss me, mark me all over, want you fucking me right now,ā you pant into the phone, a low drawn out moan escaping you
Johnny swears his hand is dangerously close to cracking his phone with how tightly he grips it, and he presses his free hand against the bottom of his chin, still trying to remain calm as thoughts of you naked and covered in a slight sweat filters into his thoughts
āi wish i could, honey,ā he lets out a sharp exhale through his nose as he tries to imagine what you look like, the soft caress of your skin against the sheets, your eyes that glossy faraway look, lips turned into a slight pout, ātell me what youāre doing right now.ā
āmm, wearing your shirt, your favorite, missed you, i miss you,ā Johnny resists a groan at the image of you wearing nothing but his shirt, the purple one that had cost too much money
still, it was worth all the money, especially now that you were wearing it right now, all needy and whiny for him
āwhat else are you doing, honey? cāmon keep talking to me, youāre doing so well.ā he encourages to talk more, to fill out the details of your want for him so that he can fuel his own imagination of you
āriding, riding you, but itās-i-i canāt,ā you sound pained at the end, your voice tinted with tears
āhey hey, whatās wrong, what canāt you do?ā Johnny presses his chin further into his free hand, trying to decipher what you meant by you riding him
he wasnāt there, but you wouldnāt take on another partner just for this, you wouldnāt do something like that, at least not without his permission
Johnny closes his eyes, listening to you whimper, voice slightly warbled through the phone line, ācanāt make myself cum, canāt without you, please, Johnny.ā
you sound so desperate for him, and he exhales through his nose, almost proud of himself for ruining you for anyone else, but he could stroke his pride later
āhoney, why donāt you facetime me? show me what youāre doing, iāll guide you. how does that sound?ā he hears your small sound of confirmation on the other end, and he pulls his phone away from his ear and waits for your caller id to show up again
as soon as it pops up, he clicks on accept and is met with the sight of you, the phone resting on the headboard of the bed, slightly tilting as you move away after setting up the camera
you look divine, better than he remembered, better than anything he had ever seen actually
his heart slightly aches at the sight of you, just as desperate as you to see each other again, to feel your touch on his skin, to feel your warmth hold his soul
Johnny sucks in a breath and concentrates back on you, how he can slightly see your chest through the unbuttoned front of the shirt, how your thighs slightly trembled as you ride a toy
your baby hairs stick slightly to your forehead, and you look breathless, lips parted in a moan and your brows furrowed upwards as you sink back down onto the toy
he stares at it, rummaging through his mind which one it could possibly be when it suddenly clicks in his head
you were riding him, him as in the prank gift he had given you on your birthday before presenting you with your actual gift
Johnny thought you had thrown it out, but you had kept it and now you were riding it, riding him and his lips slightly part in surprise
as he stares at you, you continue to ride the dildo and let out a long whine as one hand travels downward to rub harsh circles onto your clit
it snaps him out of his shock and back into the moment as he coos at you, āyou look so gorgeous, so pretty on my cock.ā
a slight hum escapes from you as you stare at the camera with half-lidded eyes, drinking in his praise, and Johnny has to bite his tongue to keep himself from cumming into his pants at the sight alone
āthatās it honey, slow down your hand, youāre being too rough on yourself,ā he says it gently, voice a little breathy as he strains to control himself, and you listen obediently, your fingers on your clit slowing down into small gentle circles
you whine pitifully, wanting more, but you listen anyway, trusting him
the fact that you do so easily in such a vulnerable moment fills him with something more, something proud and smooth, like gold shining underneath the sun
āgood, youāre being so good for me, sweetheart. use your other hand to pinch your nipple,ā he stares, unblinking at his phone as you follow through, legs shaking as you ride him slowly, whimpering as you twist and pinch your nipple
Johnny canāt look away, not, he drinks in the sight like you were the stars in the sky, the galaxies flying in the universe, a marvel, a miracle, a beauty to behold
because you truly were, something wonderful and marvelous and more than anything you would ever know
āthatās it, just like that, speed up just a little bit, good, so good for meā he watches as you bounce a little faster, your fingers against your clit just a bit faster, your pinching at your chest just a bit rougher
āhaah, ahhh aghh, Johnny, please, please,ā you can barely speak, mewls of pleasure interrupting your own thoughts
ālet go for me,ā itās all he needs to say as you moan loudly, and you sink down fully onto the toy, fingers rubbing against your clit desperately as your thighs tremble and twitch
he watches as you ride through your orgasm, as your breathing slows, as your body slouches over, exhausted and spent
āyou did so well, so well for me,ā he isnāt sure if wants to push it, to tell you to try and get yourself cleaned up, and he decides against it as you lower yourself to the bed and grip onto a pillow, no doubt the one on his side of the bed
his fingers itch to stroke your hair, to massage out your muscles, to hold you close in his arms and fall asleep next to you
Johnny settles with watching you fall asleep on the bed and then ending the call, sending you a text message asking how you felt and to call him when you woke up
setting his phone off to the side, he drags a hand over his face, the image of you riding the toy, the toy based off of him, buried deep inside of you
he stands up and rummages through his drawer, he needed a change of his clothes before he went to bed
guys is it slutty to say i wanna cook for him, kiss his forehead, pour him his liquor, light his cigarettes for him when he's tired and just be a light in his life
As you walk into the penthouse suite of the Continental, you can't help but feel your cheeks flush at the sight of John sitting alone at the kitchenette counter, head resting on his hand as he stares blankly at the wall. The sobering reality of his solitude seems to hang in the air, a stark contrast to the lavish opulence that surrounds him.
Everyone knows of his cold exterior, but nevertheless, it was part of your job, and your deeper wishes, to potentially melt that icy heart of his. What better route to a sad man's heart than some complimentary booze?
"Good evening, Mr. Wick," you greet him, your voice a soft purr, as you place the ice bucket carrying a chilled bottle of Blue Label on the bar, leaning against it with a hip jutted out. "A little something to enhance your stay."
John looks up at you, his intense gaze seemingly able to pierce through your very soul. A slight smirk plays on his lips, and you detect a hint of mischief in his once inscrutable gaze.
"That's very kind," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine. "But I doubt it can compare to the scotch I could order straight from the source."
It's almost sad how quickly your cheeks heat up and how tightly your thighs clench together, delightedly aware of the innuendo laced in his words. This man, legendary and deadly, is flirting with you.
"Well, I could be persuaded to stay and ensure the scotch is... to your taste," You reply, matching his suggestive tone, eyes unable to resist drinking in John's rugged features and the way in which his mere presence allures you.
John let's out a soft huff, similar to a chuckle, standing up from his seat to loom over you, taking in the way your breath hitches at his actions. It's been so long since he's been met with beauty that could challenge that of his late wife's, and as much as he tries to keep it under wraps and focus on business... he's a man at the end of the day. A man with needs.
"Is that so?" He whispers, maintaining his intimidating, unfaltering eye contact with you as he reaches into the ice bucket and pulls out a small cube. Your brows furrow, gaze darting between John's face and the ice cube in his hand. His smirk widens as he holds up the ice cube, dripping condensation. With a mischievous finger, he circles your bottom lip, and you part them obediently as you suck on the cold treat, the taste of pure, clean water contrasting delightfully with the intense heat coiling low in your belly. Your eyes flutter closed under the weight of his intense gaze, creating a small circle of darkness for you to bask in.
Suddenly, his hand moves in a graceful arc beneath your chin, guiding you to lift your face. The chill of another ice cube makes itself known as he presses it against your throbbing lips. There's something mesmerising in the way your breath fogs the air around his handholding your cheek steady with his strong fingers. You surrender to the cold dance, each slippery stroke of the frosty cube making every nerve ending in your body shiver deliciously.
You let out a soft whimper when John pulls the half melted ice cubes away from your hot, needy mouth, lips chilled and turned in a pout.
Quickly, John retrieves a brand new ice cube, pressing it to your swollen lips before sliding it down across your collarbone, coming to rest just over the swell of your breasts hidden underneath your white blouse. You gasp as he places it firmly against the fabric, instantly soaking it through with water that radiates from the chill of exposure.
Your body reacts instinctively under his touchā your nipples pebbling in response to the sensory bombardment. As if noticing this detail for the first time, John grins more broadly, tracing the damp spot with an icy finger that sends sparks dancing along your nerves when it slides past a now fully erect nipple.
"Beautiful..." John murmurs to himself, throwing the ice cube back into the bucket to grope your tits over your blouse with his strong, bruised hands, eyes trained on the way the wet, translucent fabric acts as such a flimsy barrier to the pretty pink bra hiding beneath it, and the perky nipples beneath that.
Before you can fully digest this unexpected new level of interaction, there's a sharp chime echoing from John's pocket. A text message of some kind, and it's obviously important if it's on John Wick's phone.
In an instant, the swirl of reciprocated heat and the cold of those dirty ice cubes dissipates as John tucks you away with a gentleness that makes you question every preconceived notion about him that you previously held true. With a parting look that seems as though it could hold entire novels of unspoken emotion and promises whispered into thin air, he excuses himself from your presence, leaving nothing behind but an unopened bottle of whisky and your shivering body.
You find yourself replaying those frozen moments between you two until long after John had left you alone in the room. The chilly moisture on your chest lingers just long enough for you to gather yourself before heading back to business as usual, forever changed by one enigmatic, cold man.
Fandom spaces lately are a mess and Iām done pretending itās normal
Not everything here is for minors. A lot of this space is adults creating for other adults. If that bothers you then scroll, block, curate your space, touch some grass, whatever, just stop acting like you own the place and harassing people
A close friend of mine is getting vile anons just for being open about being a mom with a partner. Apparently having a life means youāre not allowed to write fanfic anymore? Thatās actually fucking ridiculous.
Since when are idiots this brave that they just show up in peopleās askboxes and say the nastiest shit imaginable? Anonymity really got some of you way too comfortable
Youāre out here consuming content made by adults while calling them disgusting for existing. Make that make sense
Creativity doesnāt expire when you grow up. Fandom has always been built by people with jobs, families, actual lives. If that bothers you, AGAIN, then fix your feed and leave people alone.
And to those anons?
fuck you and I hope you have the day you deserve. Since youāre so worried anon, Iāll let you know her kids are happy, her partner is happy and her life is just fine while youāre a sad little nobody bullying people online. Know your fucking place.
