After he Kidnaps you , he goes through your phone and realises that you often capture photos from your daily life. He sees them and is going torch himself into your world , now that you don't have a choice he'll be taking pictures with you and him of the places you go.
1. The first Pic he took of him and you.
It's still in the early stages after he kidnapped you , you're sulky but slowly accepting your fate. You're sitting at the table one afternoon, head on your arms, outside on the balcony overlooking the beautiful nature scenery of the mountains , when he walks over to you , takes a seat snuggles upto you from behind , smells your hair and lays his head on your back . You don't have the energy to fight him and give up aon trying to do anything . He slowly pulls you to his chest and smoothly takes a selfie , you find the courage to push him away and muster the energy to fight ,
2. He's taken you out on a trip , the scenery is beautiful he wants to remember this moment with you and manhandled you into taking a picture with him . You keep your expression dead but inside your heart flutters...just a little bit.
People stop ✋️ giving bucky a romantic interest with kids. He's got PTSD healing he doesn't want kids...I'm not saying he doesn't like them , im saying hee doesn't want em. And realistically it's obvious.🤞
Warning: Forced proximity, prolonged captivity, forced feeding, details and mention of stalking, patronizing obsessive and creepy behaviour.
As you are forced to spend your days with your captor, you begin to learn more about him.
I do not own this GIF or any GIFs used in any of my fics. Credit to the owner of this GIF
Unedited piece.
The narrative oscillates between the past and present.
On your first day in your new 'home', as he likes to call this prison, you were shaking and sobbing. You refused to look into his eyes. You could not. But he was patient. You were expecting an outburst–even his fist raining down on you, like in all the crime documentaries you have watched and heard of. But he surprised you with his gentle hold, touching you as if you were made of glass, coaxing you to relax.
Instead of relaxing, of course, you were on edge. You had no idea what would make him tick. That was until you refused to eat or drink anything. He was patient at first, taking a bite from the food, trying to prove that it was safe to consume. But you felt so sick, you wanted to puke.
But then, he slammed the plate down and before you knew it, you were on his lap. You screamed and tried to scratch, but one stern look had you frozen.
"You either eat, or I will make you, whether you like it or not." You knew right away that you would not like what he would do to make you eat.
So with shaking hands and trembling lips, you emptied the plate.
John is a patient man, you have come to this conclusion in your time spent here, with him. Extremely patient. But the moment he feels that you are neglecting your wellbeing or putting yourself in danger, he is right on his feet, ready to take any action necessary to ensure that you are healthy, safe and not out of his sight.
"It's such a cruel place for a sweet little thing like you. People would tear you apart and lick the remnants."
He told you on your second day when you managed to gather courage and confront him. All you wanted was to go home. You still want to go home—except you can't anymore.
A fire destroyed your apartment and apparently, they found a burnt-down body with your hair sticking out. More or less, you are dead to the world.
You know whose body it was and that even if the authorities suspect something, you are a cold case, at most.
You cried when he made you watch the news, and while he comforted you, every touch, every word prickled. You lost it that morning, screaming at him about how much you hated him, throwing things at him, trying to keep him away.
But John was calm. Almost stoic---like he was expecting the outburst.
But then, you refused to eat again. You were burning with rage and you threw the plate across the room.
You will never repeat it.
You know the consequences now. You do not want to test his patience.
No amount of rage could keep him from overpowering you. You were in tears as soon as the adrenaline left your body with all the screaming and attempts to scratch him, you had even managed to leave a reddened mark on his bearded cheek.
But that was all, your hands were tied to the bedposts before he pinched your nose firmly, compelling you to open your mouth. Wordlessly, he shoved the food into your mouth. No matter how much you gagged or coughed, he did not let a single morsel spill out, keeping his large paw of a hand firmly over your mouth.
You have not refused food or water since that day.
He was perhaps a bit softer after that---you don't know for sure---you were reduced to a sobbing mess. But his gentle touch almost felt tender.
It changed nothing though.
You still hate him. However, with the lack of human interaction, other than John, you have not crossed the line of 'not being able to stand him'.
You try to keep up with the dates—the calendar in the hallway hall, the digital clock in the living room, and Joh's phone—anything to help you tally the days. But being mostly confined to the bedroom with a lock system customised by him makes it a challenge to keep up.
If you are not wrong, it has been a month since he took you. And you have found a lot more than the taste of his anger until now.
Like your clothes hanging in your wardrobe. Most of your closet contains the clothes and shoes you kept in your online cart or wishlist or perhaps fancied in some place months ago. You never used to be stingy with your money but could manage it well. You could because now, you have nothing to manage other than your emotions and overall mental health.
"How long have you been stalking me?" You manage to gather the courage to ask him one morning.
It is one of the rare times he has let you out of the room, bringing you to the dining table for a meal.
"Over a year."
That's that thing about him---it unnerves you how he never even denies what he has done, nor justifies it. John is not delusional. No, he knows exactly what he has done and he knows he is wrong. He simply doesn't seem to care.
He gazes into your eyes, already anticipating another question. Maybe he can read you far better than you can read him. It makes sense, he has been observing you for more than a year, and you have come to know of his existence only a month ago.
Suddenly, it is difficult to gulp down the food. Your hold on the spoon tightens. It bends so easily under pressure, reminding you how he has detailed everything to work in his favour and against yours.
"I know it is scary, and I know it is difficult for you." He speaks up "But you must understand that I will never hurt you. You are safe here, with me. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done that by now."
This is perhaps the most he has spoken in one go. He is a man of few words. The silence, the stealth, it unsettles you, but there is not much you can do about it of course.
"You know it is wrong to keep someone against their will, don't you?"
He holds your gaze for a moment of tense silence before responding.
"I have done far worse."
There, your answer and a warning, wrapped in one response.
As if sensing your rising unease and fear, he adds-
"But you don't need to be scared of me." He sounds oddly sincere. No malice or mirth.
But your lips are already trembling.
"How dare you act like this is acceptable?" You hiss out quietly, it's a struggle to speak through the tense emotions coiling in your throat.
You flinch when his hand touches your face, but it does not keep him from cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears.
"I know this is hard, but you will see one day. This is where you truly belong to."
That makes you break into sobs once more, and you can do nothing when he collects you in his arms, holding you as if he is not the cause of your misery.
At night, you find yourself awake despite it being way past your 'bedtime' as he has fixed. You think, for once, you have been discreet enough to earn yourself some moment of peace despite his arm coiled around your waist and his warm body pressing against your back.
"Why aren't you asleep yet?" His voice is quiet and gruff, making your heart skip a beat.
Of course, he would know.
He can sense the slightest shift in your breathing pattern. He knows when you are asleep and the moment you are awake. Being forced to share the same bed as him, it has taken you a while to be even able to sleep properly.
But John never misses anything when it comes to you. He makes sure you get at least eight hours of sleep, he makes sure you are eating a balanced meal and he makes sure that you have access to every self-care item you are used to and more. It freaked you out when you first opened the cabinets to find the exact brands you use.
The make-up is a different case though. The shades and the overall type remain more or less unchanged, it is the brands that have made your eyebrows raise. They are sitting untouched. What is the point anyway? You are not leaving this house any time soon. Unless you are successful in escaping.
Not that you haven't tried. You have, and each attempt has ended in an epic failure. Finally, you have lost your privacy during bathing as well. Now, it is only a curtain that stands between you and him. And you feel no less than a camper in the middle of the forest, who has a tent between her and a bear.
But you know that a mere curtain can do nothing to save you the day he decides that he has waited enough. And you do not know how much longer he would wait. You see the way his eyes darken every time you wear the dress he has picked for you. And he chooses your outfit every day. You feel the heat of his gaze, the lingering touch, the way he breathes into your neck like he is seconds away from sinking his teeth into your flesh.
Maybe he gets a sense of claim over you by dressing you up as he pleases. You had opposed it initially, determined to stand your ground even though you cannot deny how flattering each outfit is.
"It's either this, or you wear nothing at all. I wouldn't mind that."
By then, you had understood that he was a man of action indeed, he never said anything he did not mean to. So gulping down your rage along with your dignity, you put on the dress of his choice.
And you have been putting on the dress he chooses for you every day since then.
Over a month of your 'stay', you have come to learn that John is a dangerous man, fully capable of hurting you if he wants to (as if his previous actions weren't obvious enough). You have felt it when he chased you down the the hallway on your first escape attempt. You thought you were fast, but his thundering and swift footsteps were faster than your racing heart. You felt his strength when he wrapped his arm around you firmly while you struggled and screamed. No amount of hitting or scratching could move his hold. You felt the weight of it, you felt that his arms could easily crush you if he wanted to. But when you got to look into his eyes again, they seemed amused.
"Nice try, Darling. But please do not make me chase you again, for your good."
You might have not understood what he meant had you not been pinned underneath him with his hardness pressed against your exposed thighs.
You realised that day that you need to be smarter than that. You can’t outrun him, can’t overpower him. Even the house seems to be in the middle of the woods. As far as your eyes can reach, you can only see the vast stretches of green.
Where are you?
You have no idea. He has been so thorough with everything, that it has begun to gnaw at your mind--like a beast ready to tear its way out out and destroy everything.
For now, you can only force yourself to relax in his unyielding hold and imagine that you are somewhere else, in your lover's embrace. Maybe someday, you can be smarter, you can read him without going mad.
Someday.
You tell yourself as you feel his lips on the back of your neck.
The day better come sooner than he manages to push way past your boundaries like he does so subtly now.
******
Shall I write another part? It gets only darker from here. What do you think?
Addition: I have been reading 'Bittersweet' by the lovely @johnwickb1tsch and now that I re-read this part, I see clear inspirations. I apologise for not noticing it before, it has been more or less a subconscious act. There is so much inspiration from your amazing fic, thank you for that @johnwickb1tsch
And those who have not read Bittersweet yet, what are you even doing? Go read the fic.
For You, I Would - Yandere!John Wick x Reader Drabble ❥ 260 Words
A/N: Hiii :3c instead of working on my Ted Logan x Reader thing, I got possessed and wrote this as a warm-up instead. Idk if this is truly Yandere or not, I've never used the term in my writing before. If it's incorrect, just lmk lol Divider by bernardsbendystraws
Warnings: implied kidnapping, canon typical violence type stuff
Archive of Our Own Link
John Wick has spent his entire life training and preparing for a love like yours. A brutal and honest love. A love that burns and aches and hurts. Pain, he's familiar with. He was born from it and grew numb to it early on. He knows how to roll with the punches.
It didn't matter how many times you hurt him; how many sharp words you flung at him or how many times you bit the hand that feeds. Slice him to pieces and he'd sew himself together just to crawl back to you with mangled limbs.
But you? Beautiful, sweet, innocent you?
You deserve the sun, the moon, and the stars. John would rip each star from the sky, one by one, if it meant you'd let him keep you without the heartache, without the fighting back.
If only you knew the lengths that he's gone to just to get your attention and have you in his grasp at all. He's burned bridges, cashed in on unthinkable favors, and buried the bodies of those who started looking too closely. The sacrifices he's already made pale in comparison to the things he'd still do for you. All for you.
He hopes that the softness of his love will eventually break down the venom on your tongue when he kisses you.
So, he allows you to scratch and kick and scream. He encourages you to let it out while he ties you down. And then, he will wait. Forever and a day, he will wait, until he is yours as much as you are his.
"No, we're not soulmates. This is not divine intervention. And this is most certainly not chance. I willed this. I knit the threads of fate myself until they spelled your name. I love you intentionally. I love you with every bit of conscience I was born with."
Smut, swearing, if u dont like dont read, mild angst
She is part of Ricks original group and supported Rick in everything he decided, except killing Negans Group at the outpost. Natasha is highly intelligent and knows that both Rick and Negan will do whatever they can to protect their group. Shes loyal to her family but disagrees with what they did.
When Negan captured the group, the night he killed Abraham and Glenn , she hid in the trees. They were her friends. She had to protect her family and that is why she decided to go undercover and become Negans best tracking girl. The two shared something, but she had to look out for her family. That is why she double crossed him, so Rick could save everyone at Alexandria. She gave Rick the upper hand in the final battle.
When Rick, took Negan, captive she stayed far from him because of the feelings she had and the guilt she harbored if he had died. The two shared occasional looks as he was planting. Negan had tried to confront her but he himself had harboured guilt. Not guilt for killing Abraham and Glenn, guilt for failing his community, guilt for not winning her over when he had the chance.... And he had a chance.
A Negan P. O. V
Although most of the group have forgave Negan, most of them never forgot what he did either. He proved that he still has humanity when he ironically killed Alpha. Maybe she could still forgive him, after all she was the one who let him out. She trusted him for a small portion and he was never going to throw that trust away.
NATASHA P. O. V
Last year had been tough, Gabriel had convinced her to face her inner demons regarding Negan, and hell she wasnt one to listen to the Father, but she knew what he was saying was true. Being part of the few people in Alexandria who knew battle strategies, she knew Negan had a good chance. She also knew that she might be sending him to his death bed for a second time and that part hurt her. She hadnt been the nicest person in the world, and here she was risking his life for her family all over again. He brought out the worst in her.
Thats when Negan showed he could be human. When she had found out about how Alpha treated Lydia, she was skeptical to welcome her to the group, much of Alexandria didnt trust Lydia. But after seeing how Lydia treated Negan being the one person who did not know his past, she didnt judge, she knew Alexandria needed a fresh start. Lydia had grown accustomed to her, like a big sister almost like her own child. She was proud of the girl for having stood up for herself against her own mother, another relationship worth mentioning was Lydia and Negan, Natasha wouldnt stop her from visiting him. She knew he provided her the comfort of a father she never had.
Months had gone past and nothing eventfull happened, until one day Maggie arrived. Natasha was honestly very relieved to see her, with one tiny worry, Negan.
She went to check on him, when he caught her off guard.
Negan : it seems like judgement day has arrived (Maggie)
Natasha : well, so has independance day, were going on a mission to get our food back. Once were done you're free to go.
Negan :You really know how to take charge.
Natasha : it was Carols suggestion,
Negan : explains why i am still alive.
Natasha : Cant keep you chained up here forever, now, can i??
Negan : you and I have very different views on that,
The briefing on the mission was simple, after days of hunting and Maggie already trying to kill Negan more than twice. The Reapers Managed to seperate us from Daryl and the rest and somehow Natasha and Negan were stuck with eachother.
.
Negan : Well, shit if that aint fuckin holy smokin fuckin moley great.
Natasha :Urgh
Negan : Well, guess we're gonna be a while.
Natasha :best get going then.
Negan :You really loving this suicide mission arent ya??
Natasha :im not gonna die with you on my ass, now lets go.
Negan :damn
..
After hours of walking and nothing said between the two, Natasha, finally stopped by an abandoned house.
Natasha : We'll stay here for the night.
Negan :fine with me
After another unspoken silence between the two Negan finally spoke up : Was i that bad of a host??
Natasha : What?
Negan : with the saviours..
Natasha looks at him before leaning her head against a tree :.. No, no, you treated people just fine.
Negan : then? All that time youve been avoiding me, dont think i havent noticed?
Natasha : Your beard sucked.
They both laugh.
Natasha : am i really that much of a bitch???
Negan : yes, but only to me. Youre my bitch.
Natasha smiles : i hate you.
Negan drawls : i know, you do and i love it.
Natasha : urggh, Goodnight asshole.
Negan : Goodnight, sweetheart.
.
Its around 2a.m and Natasha can hear rustling she wakes up to see negan fiddling with his shirt.
Natasha : what is it.
Negan : nothing, ticks??
Natasha : let me see..
Negan :no
Natasha takes out her knife and holds it against his throat, leaning over him sternly saying : let. Me. See
Negan holds up his hand : damn woman.
She lifts up his shirt to check for anything and sees a small slash, not big to kill him but enough to need 2 stitches.
Natasha :... Is it???
Negan : an arrow from the reapers..
Natasha : fuck man, you idiot why didnt you tell me? I have the medical kit.
Negan : well, i didnt fucken know.
Natasha : let me disinfect it.
She helps him take off his shirt and sits ontop of him with a leg on eitherside. She sees to his wound and Negan, just looks at her the entire time. Until he flinches...
Natasha : all done.
She puts the needle away whilst still ontop of him and then looks down...
Negan grabs her and Kisses her, she reciprocates the kiss and pulls away, to slap him. He looks at her with a stern look, and then flips her over under him.
Negan :almost 7 fucking years without a goddamn word and now you want to fuck me???
Natasha : i would have fucked you if you didnt have wives.
my hyperfixations keep me from killing myself so please just let me be delusional and dream of fictional older men and their big brown eyes and massive cocks
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