with all my love, valentina

30 year old writer with a love of the strange

[valentinxd]

hello there

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 | 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 | 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 - 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 ♥️ 💄

𝟑3 | 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏𝟓 + 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 | 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐊𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

President of the Helen Wick is Wife Club since 2024

masterlist T B A

MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY BLOG | GENERAL TRIGGER WARNINGS OF DARK THEMES

[valentinxd]

not me making the Sunshine drabble into a random series of you being Vampire John Wick’s kinda sort (non casual low commitment long distance) girlfriend who also (maybe sorta kinda both of you are in love with Helen) Or basically you and John Wick are together and when you age and die he knows for a fact you are somewhere with Helen at peace and that alone is his personal heaven. Or OR you and Helen are chilling in a flower field putting daisies in each other’s hair shit talking about John.

[valentinxd]

Sunshine Drabble

(I miss Scarlet)

Synopsis: John likes to watch you, no matter what you are doing; his immortal heart he long thought dead, aches for you. Or you share a part of yourself with him that he will carry with him for eternity. Vampire John Wick x Human Reader Not fully proof read or edited sorry. I made it angsty I’m sorry????

It was another thunderstorm, the kind that started right in between spring and summer when the heat was getting humid, and the earth was a shade of jade. The kind of weather that you loved. You talked to John about it one night. You were both sitting at the kitchen counter, in the middle of the night, with no moon or stars to give you light as you drank. He drank blood out of a clear glass, becoming comfortable with it around you, while you had coffee from a blue cup. He bought it for you at an antique store; it was a soft blue with a little flower pattern. You wished it were a daisy. You pretended it was a daisy. He would let you. “Okay, so what kinda weather can you handle, Edward Cullen?” You would call him every famous vampire name under the sun but his own, and every time he would only stare and tilt his head, annoyed. Sometimes he got the reference; other times he didn’t. “As long as the sun isn’t there.” He said, thinking about it for a moment. His dark eyes narrowed as he tried to explain his undead nature. “So no sunset beach sex?” You teased, and he chuckled, smiling enough to show his fangs. “You want to be burned?” He responded, the words having more than one meaning, and you only blushed, the rose colour on your skin the most beautiful shade he would ever see. “Okay, but actually, your favorite kind of weather?” You wanted to understand him, this immortal man was an enigma you couldn’t wrap your mortal mind around. “I like the snow, the first snowfall of winter, when it’s dark and the night is quiet.” He admitted, and you wondered if he was thinking about his childhood or any holiday he shared with Helen. “Like, Christmas?” You ask as he had his glass raised to his lips. His eyebrows knit together for a moment as he looked down and deep into some memory you couldn’t fall into. “What about you?” He asked, indicating he was done. You learned when to push and when to stop with him. He admired that. “I like the rain, I think kinda like you, the rain that’s like...at the end of spring, beginning of summer. The kind of weather when the earth is a bright green but the sky is so dark and intense.” You say, looking out the window to the dark looming clouds overhead. The kind of weather that you were promised when you checked the app on your phone. “A summer thunderstorm?” He raised a brow, looking at the threatening clouds.

You opened your mouth, but thunder rumbled outside and you grinned. Going towards the window, you opened it, a cool breeze touched the windchimes, and the trees swayed. It was the kind of weather you loved. Making sure he was properly covered, more specifically wearing a dark jacket that was made to help withstand natural light he had pulled you towards the basement again. There was a back patio tucked away underneath the back deck. You immediately darted out into the grass as the rain started, and John only snorted at how childish it was. You would be cold later, and he couldn’t physically help with that. “You’re going to trail mud and water all over my house.” He muttered that you were too busy dancing around as if the earth itself asked you to rejoice in the storm. You laughed, bopping about, and soon your clothes were soaked through. Feeling brave enough you reached out and pulled the stoic vampire towards you with both hands and he allowed himself to be dragged out into the summer storm. “See? I told you it was fun!” You were grinning and he would have scolded you if it weren't for the light in your eyes. “You’ll get sick.” He said. “You’ll make me better.” You responded quickly. In fact, that is exactly what he did. When the warm rain turned cold and dreary, he brought you in, made you a hot bath and stayed with you. He carried you out, drying you off and even going as far as putting clothes on you. There was a part of him that loved to parent you and you would never ask but you had a feeling at one point he had missed a chance at being a father, which would sometimes bleed into these simple moments. “Silly girl.” He mumbled as you drifted off in his arms on the couch. You were wearing his clothes as you normally did when you got carried away into whatever situation you put him in, and while he thought of having you leave some of your clothes here, there was something primal about you wearing his, call it a vampire thing. If someone were to ask him two hundred years from now, long after you were gone and buried and only a memory to him, what his favorite weather was he would say it was the first thunderstorm of the summer and while many would assume it a memory with Helen that alone would belong to you. At that point, Helen would have you and he would accept that.

[valentinxd]

Sunshine | part 2/3

Pairing | vampire!John Wick x Dom! Reader. 

Not proofread or checked fully NSFW MENTIONS, MDI I am currently writing this going through some hardcore grief so I apologize if things are off I’ll write the smut next time I am figuring out how, but I am mostly into this dark angst they have

Synopsis: You question your entire existence as what you are and you find yourself thinking of Helen while John waits for you. Chatpers: x

About the reader: You are a 32 year old sex worker in the hidden heart of New York, tending to various supernatural beings of all types. While there are very strict rules on keeping a balance, sometimes those lines can be crossed. It’s how you found yourself being a regular with John Wick, a grieving widower who spent so long in the dark he’s been looking for a little bit of sunshine he could find. 

You did what he normally wanted you to do. Wait until dark.

The last of the light had left you in a rosy dusk. Entirely nude on the kitchen stool, drinking water. John had already gone down into the dark of the basement, a safe space for him. Maybe the only space he could freely wander around during the day without the fear of being burned. You waited, the clock ticked on the kitchen wall, and you stared at Helen’s yellow coffee mug, asking it to prepare you for whatever monster awaits you in the dark. Her monster, your monster, and if you were lucky - her permission. You always got it regardless. You had a feeling Helen was the kind of woman who wanted John to be happy, wanted him to live as much as he could, even with an immortal lifespan. It made you love Helen more. You didn’t know you envied in these occasions, her or him. Maybe it was both. Maybe you wanted to be her. You always spent your time in that inbetween stage or actual genuine love and a desperate lustful need of a fantasy of it, the fear of being alone. That was you, the other woman, the best kept secret, the overpriced dream of whoever paid to make you whoever they wanted you to be. “Oh, Helen, give me strength.” You whispered, knowing he could hear you even a floor beneath you. He shared her with you, either to allow himself to grieve, or maybe deep down he wanted someone to love her like he did. You set your glass down, staring at the window, the last of the sun’s rays was a deep red, a warning or a gentle goodbye you didn’t know. When you spoke, you were sure he would probably stop pacing, at least you assumed he was pacing; he often did when he was waiting. Even as a dog person, he reminded you of a large, gentle cat. The sun was gone. It was dark, and the night wouldn’t give you a moon for any comfort; the stars, even this far out in his quiet suburban neighborhood, barely gave you a sign of care. It was so utterly dark. At one point, it was a suffocating darkness that would make your creative mind run wild with an imagination of a human unaware of this hidden world. A naive human who, in need of money, took a job. You were brought into the world of monsters and ghouls by a woman who ran the sort of underground brothel that promised a chance of freedom. You didn’t care how you got it, you would fuck or fight your way to it. You stood up, putting the shirt on as the last of the sun took the warmth with it, and knowing he would tear it off anyway didn’t change your mind. You went towards the darkness. You had counted the steps until you hit that basement door, going down into the deep, cold darkness of his hiding place. The air was always tense, waiting, but it shifted as you descended further, and three steps in, you were met with an impatient vampire. His hands gripped your arms, sheltering and holding you still. You haven’t realized he had met you more than halfway. “You think she can help you?” His voice was so soft that for a moment you thought you imagined it. “Would she?” You ask, you were careful to not mention her name to his face, even if he shared this mystical being with you. “More than me.” He responded, implying that there were probably parts of him that even Helen in her mortal life couldn’t see. With his little admittance to the woman, you both seemed to admire it, which made you feel a little more human than you were. “You put the shirt back on.” He stated, and you swallowed. “It’s cold.” All of the teasing energy seemed to leave with the sun, and when his claws, strong and cold like a vampire, tugged at the fabric, you removed it before he did any more damage to the weak threads of a cotton shirt. “You’ve known that.” He murmured as his mouth met your throat, not biting, not needing to drink, just keeping the same promise that he made earlier and every time before that. His hands roamed your form as delicate art, then picking you up and carried you down deeper into the basement, where he would keep to his promise. You had realized he would take more than the sun from your skin; he would take your soul, too.

[valentinxd]

moodboard for Sunshine

You are John’s favorite distraction

[valentinxd]

Sunshine | Part 1/3

“I don’t know what has its teeth in me, but I’m about to bite back.” 

Pairing | vampire!John Wick x Dom! Reader. 

Not proofread or checked fully NSFW MENTIONS, MDI I am currently writing this going through some hardcore grief so I apologize if things are off

edited 04.29.26

Synopsis: John has been seeking you out in ways only you can help. Or alternatively - you are a sex worker and John knows you’re the only thing that can help him forget. 

About the reader: You are a 32 year old sex worker in the hidden heart of New York, tending to various supernatural beings of all types. While there are very strict rules on keeping a balance, sometimes those lines can be crossed. It’s how you found yourself being a regular with John Wick, a grieving widower who spent so long in the dark he’s been looking for a little bit of sunshine he could find. 

“Go.” John was a man of few words; he always had been, even when he first approached you. You were standing in his house, empty and modest despite him being several centuries old, save for little momentos of his late wife Helen. A woman whom you had secretly come to love in your own way, based on how he talked about her. A woman he seemed to share with you, surprisingly. This wasn’t your first time with a supernatural being. Last week was a werewolf woman who wanted to take you shopping, a few days after that it was some sort of demon (or was he the son the devil?) lawyer who bought you several pairs of nice open-toed heels, then after that was a ghost who possessed you and quite frankly, that was one of the best nights of your life. 

Then there was John, who started as a random literal John Doe in your line of work, and then began to show up more and more. It was so honestly funny how he didn’t seem to want attention at first, but gradually leaned into it, yet he was the one who found you. By accident, really. What were you doing at a vampire club in the middle of the night? You were there to see a friend, but someone who didn’t play by the rules of the supernatural world didn’t get that, or maybe he didn’t care because somehow you were running and he was chasing, and then out of the literal shadows came John Wick himself. You heard they called him the Baba Yaga, the Boogeyman, and that fit him entirely. 

“You think the sun’s going to disappear in two seconds?” You step backwards into the open kitchen, looking at him. You wondered how a vampire could manage all these windows in this large house. Vampires, despite what Twilight said, couldn’t always handle the sunlight, John being one of them. You jokingly had asked him if he could sparkle in the sun on a random session, which resulted in him burning his arm for you in annoyance, but then regretted it immediately after seeing you upset. That was probably the first time he realized he cared about you more than he should. 

“Keep going.” He said, leaning against the doorframe to his basement. It was pitch black behind him. He was in sweatpants and a simple T-shirt, holding a mug of what you assumed was coffee, but it wasn’t. Why would it be? Leave it to John to drink the life force of a human being out of a mug like a Saturday morning. You didn’t even question where he got it; most blood donations were legal among consenting parties, you could go to the blood bank or the butcher, easy and transactional. You could smell the thick clove scent of something darker. This was pure black market shit. The kind that probably came from someone fresh, as in recent and maybe very much alive. 

More specifically, it was the kind of blood only someone with his kind of resources could get. Or maybe it was because he was John. You had been around enough blood drinkers that you picked up the differing scents among the types. Some smelled like iron or pennies, others smelled like the forest, at one point, you even had some because it smelled like cotton candy. You only tilted your head, testing the waters, and he narrowed his eyes, mimicking your reaction. 

“Don’t.” He knew that defiant look of yours, his obsidian eyes narrowing. 

You only smiled playfully as he watched. You stood in the full sunlight, it was evening, golden hour, his favorite time of day - besides the dawn when he would watch Helen wake up, and now you. Your outfit was entirely simple, just one of his old shirts and nothing else; you had given up on wearing lingerie around him. He was a hit and miss with it, sometimes he liked the dark silk, other times he would use his claws to tear at the lace and mumble in another language. 

“What do you want me to do, eat the sun?” You twirl around like a princess and to him to were, in one of his shirts the hem coming up enough as the rays of light covered your skin in a way that made his heart ache. 

“Enjoy the light while you can.” He said, there was something gentle, almost playful in his eyes as he took another drink. 

“Are you going to lock me in your basement, Nosferatu?” You teased, hopping up on a barstool and facing him, parting your legs to piss him off enough, or tempt him.

He shrugged, only finishing his drink. You knew what he was preparing for, trying to control his thirst to not drain you, in the bloodless way, of course. The other way you were going to find out was when the sun sank below the horizon. Which would be soon enough.

“Take your shirt off.” He said. 

“Okay, why?” You removed the garment,  not even hesitating, even if you questioned it verbally. As you set his shirt on the counter, your entire body is on display for him with the golden glow of the dying light illuminating your features.

“I’m going to kiss every part of you that the sun touches.” He said, stepping back farther into the darkness of the basement door. 

You knew when the last of the daylight moved to the dark blue of the night, he would absolutely do just that, and you wondered if he wanted to absorb any trace of the sun from you. Deep down he probably did, and you would let him.

[valentinxd]

“Stop flirting with death, John.”

“Death should stop flirting with me.”

Or alternatively, you are death and maybe you have fallen in love with a mortal man who is as deeply in love with you, but refuses to admit it.

should this be a fic? maybe?

[valentinxd]

help. I didn’t know yall would be into being a throuple with John and Helen but here we are (i mean it is Mother’s Day and Helen is Mommy so) ((respectfully sir joHN PLZDONTKILLMEI LOVE YOUR WIFE)

with the Helen Wick x Reader x John Wick Maid story should the reader be:

What should the reader be like cause i have severallll ideas?

Guarded, aloof, quiet, comes to work and then leaves, a quiet worker

Sweet, Innocent, Naive, Super DUPER ray of sunshine, glitter eyeshadow

human tornado, chaos gremlin, organized chaos, really good at their job?

this is for me only

Other! Mention in the comments plz

Voting ended onMay 15, 2025

[valentinxd]

random ideas in my head that I can’t get out and may write.

John Wick being a mechanic and he’s wearing that stupid full body mechanic suit and he’s got you on a work bench pretending to work on you but it’s all smut.

Neo with a female reader who is a cyborg he built and he gave you the ability to touch. More wholesome like you two are just adorable little idiots.

Being John and Helen’s maid but like - they have a thing for you. Hiring you to clean but then slowly spoiling you and then finally just having you move in and straight to the bedroom.

Trying to build a crib with Jack but you both keep fucking it up and struggle with each little piece. Struggling to read the instructions, struggling to find the right pieces and putting things on backwards

Smoking a cigarette on a rooftop with a teenage John Constantine listening to rock music after his death attempt. Sitting in silence in the dark with only the street light on, the crickets are the only sound and he’s wearing a jean jacket hiding his arms and all you can do is hold his hand which refuses to let go because out of everyone in this world he’s scard of losing is you.

Being Donaka Mark’s first love and taking care of him after he gets into his first fight. One of the many boyfriends his absent mother has decided to put him in his place and he stumbles into your apartment holding him, bandagaing his wounds and pressing small kisses to his bruised face and seeing something inside him change and you fear you can’t get him back.

Yandere Neo and Trinity both altering your life in the Matrix because they both become obsessed with you and so they decide to make it worse to “save you.” Little things get worse in your life, you lose your job, things break, your partners start off sweet but become worse, and why do you keep seeing two people in the corner of your room at night? Your just dreaming right?

[valentinxd]

Hi, how are you? Do you accept Keanu's fanfiction requests? If yes, what are your rules?

Hello I do - just no hardcore fetishes, noncon, rape, underage, fisting, really graphic bloody bdsm, uhhhh I can’t think of anything else atm.

I am also slow to write with everything going on at the moment.

I never put a rules up cause i keep forgetting haha

I also mostly write female reader or try to be gender neutral

[valentinxd]

SHAPE YOU.

You’re a disgruntled line cook who Donaka sees as a challenge.

Pairing: Donaka Mark x Female Reader

About Reader: 30-year-old woman, disheveled, sweaty, uncomfortable within one’s skin, borderline exhausted, lack of self-care, quite possibly has identity issues

Note: This isn’t meant for the reader to be “not like other girls” nor do I want to play on that trope, I just love the idea of a well-groomed man wanting to take on a mess of a person. This is also going on with the kinks I previously posted about him wanting to change the reader for his liking. (not the best writing on my end)

Warnings: Mostly in the About Reader part, the reader is insecure and oftentimes in her own head, Donaka wants to change her into what he thinks you should be, sexism on his part? maybe?

You got a job at one of his bars. Most of the women there had great people skills, good at serving, bartending, anything being in public. You didn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to you just didn’t know how. You were always a bit in your head to notice the world around you, you tried retail and hated it. You found the busy hidden world of the kitchen a lot more to your liking.

You got to hide in the back, working away on whatever high priced bullshit nonsense was on the menu, shove your arms in hot water scrubbing dishes, and polishing crystal bar glasses for the bartenders.

You would watch your coworkers, knowing how to dress, how to act, how to smile, what was fashionable and what wasn’t with a sense of awe and love. A part of you wanted to be like them, you just didn’t know how or feel like you had the time to put in the extra effort.

You were always exhausted, always a little too much in your own world to notice. But that didn’t mean someone you weren’t noticed. You just assumed you were just another disheveled food service worker for Donaka Mark, assuming the one percent like him every paid attention to you.

He did.

One of his favorite girls at the bar was in the corner eating some food with a couple other of girls, they had snuck back to the kitchen while you were cleaning up and entered in a “mistake order.” You were aware that being a server and bartender meant little to no breaks especially during peak hours so you made sure to give them something to eat lest they pass out.

All three girls stopped when the tall man looked at them, his dark obsidian eyes narrowing slightly. Out of fear they pointed at the back door. He went to confront to whatever out of line cook that was stealing from him. He found you out back smoking a cigarette, your apron dirty, a few bandaids on your left hand and your hair a greasy mess tied back into an attempted bun.

There was just something about you that interested him, he normally would never pay attention to girls like you as you clearly didn’t put the effort into your appearance but the way you tilted your head and raised your eyebrows with the cigarette lazily in your mouth there he only walked away.

You got told that wasn’t a thing and you should count your days.

At the end of your shift, you walked over to the bar, and one of the workers there gave you a beer. You let your hair down and he came to the conclusion that if he could take innocent people and make them killers he could change every part of you.

So of course you found it odd when he would offer you a better-paying position to be a server. You couldn’t tell your boss no, unless you wanted to sleep in the dirt permanently.

He slowly and gradually got you to change bit by bit, redoing your hair to a better color, changing the style, and wearing more makeup. This didn’t change your normal demeanor however, you would sit awkwardly in a barely-there skirt, pick at the fake nails, and stare off into space. You always felt a bit awkward and uncomfortable in your own skin but that drove his resolve further.

Donaka Mark always got what he wanted, he always did.

At some point, you were going to become the woman he wanted you to be, soul, mind, and body.

Then you would be completely his.

[valentinxd]

What do you think would be Donaka's kinks? :3

Ohhh yay let’s answer this based on my limited knowledge of this asshole

also female reader

I keep thinking outside of the usual power play he would love dressing up the reader, everything about her he wants to reshape and mold

Probably starting off as a sugar daddy to get you invested

Absolute yandere, more mental though

he would never hurt you physically- can’t do it he hates seeing your pretty skin marred with bruises unless you’re being naughty

would be into shibaku

breeding kink?

I secretly could see him being you trying to dominate him and absolutely failing. you can try and he finds it so cute you think you’re in control. you’re not, you never were

[valentinxd]

mark me.

Soulmate Au | What you write on your skin appears on the other.

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Fem Reader

Prompt: You can’t always go on tour with him but that doesn’t either of you from letting you know you both feel.

Warnings: age gap, Keanu is 59 and Reader is 30. Reader is also in college and can’t leave at the moment. Both of you keep your relationship private.

Note: Hi I’m kinda back and I probably won’t finish what I started and I still need to do those requests I got sent in - sorry. here’s this?

Keanu had been on tour for a while now and while he enjoyed it, being able to explore the musician in him he so desperately missed you. You couldn’t go while they traveled around the country as you were finishing up this semester. You were taking a few classes that demanded a little too much of your time and while you could text, FaceTime, or call Keanu much preferred the little notes on his arms.

He found the act of you drawing or writing on him very intimate. When he would be in the hotel late at night attempting to sleep he could feel the soft swift scratches of the pen as you drew a bunny, or wrote an answer to a test, or a simple “I love you.” and “I miss you."

His handwriting was a bit more chaotic than yours, as he was used to quickly writing his signature and various notes in his busy life. Your arms would have his messy words, sometimes random reminders of “be here at 11.” or “this would be a cool idea.” and oftentimes “I really fucking miss you.”

You both kept your relationship as private as possible, you wearing long sleeves to hide it and him washing off the ink before he got on stage. He hated doing that, scrubbing away all the little notes and reminders you made for him or yourself. He didn’t want to, but because you weren’t famous and you both had a thirty-year age difference, he wasn’t about to let the world tear you apart.

You both fell into a routine and a schedule for when and where you could write to him. People were aware that Keanu had a soulmate, your handiwork on his forearms as he played bass got a lot of attention. The inked flowers you drew were impressive, which got people thinking of what he would look like with tattoos.

“I miss you.” You write.

“You could have come with me.” He writes back with a little smiley face.

“I couldn’t because of school.” You respond, though you wished you could have you didn’t want to be distracted.

“I know and you’re doing good. Proud of you honey.” His words almost made you cry.

“I’ll call you later?”

“Yes I want to hear your voice.” He drew a little heart.

He followed the routine and washed off all the ink, the water dark blue with your favorite pen. He hated doing this, erasing the part of you that was with him, but he wanted to hold on to this privacy a little longer. He took great care to avoid where you wrote that you loved him, he needed that to stay. He went to a tattoo the next day and got it permanently inked.

That still didn’t stop you from writing it again and again.

[valentinxd]

I know I just started this blog but I need to take a short to long-term hiatus. I apologize

[blackheartbiohazards]

I'm gonna say it.

It's unhinged to assume that someone's taste in fiction equates to what they believe is moral or good, or is something they want to see or experience in real life.

That is a bonkers assumption to make.

I'm tired of humoring people with long arguments about it when the simple fact is it is a totally fucking absurd reach to accuse someone who enjoys something in fiction of being in favor of it in real life.

I'm tired of pretending like this is a legitimate position to hold-- that they should be afraid of fiction's dire influence on a reader's moral decay or that it's a sign of what the author secretly wants for realsies in real life.

[blackheartbiohazards]

I promise you it is still getting me death threats in 2024.

[valentinxd]

Wholeheartedly agree. ❤️

[valentinxd]

YOU POOR THING

WIP Here is a sneak peak 😘

Helen and John now have you and Winston is afraid this little game of theirs will spiral..

If there was one thing Winston could do was send you away in hopes that the world who hated the Wicks wouldn’t find their way to you. Of course, this only lasted so long as it became a game for the divorced couple, now all four of you were seated in the New York Continental bar and all you could do was drink your beer and sit in silence.

John Wick was a skilled hitman as you found out, in fact so very skilled that he was a little to damn good at his job and became the most feared of them all.

It didn’t help that he married Helen Moynahan, mostly known as Helen Wick - a powerful woman in the underground who fought, kiss, killed, and burned her way to the top only then to obtain a husband.

Either way Winston thought he could help you, at least save you since both of them were a little too preoccupied in their game. It was a slippery slope straight into obsession and outdoing the other as you now were seated at the bar while both of them sat behind you at a table discussing things as Winston demanded.

Helen only smiled coyly playing with her drink and John only stared back with the same stoic and unreadable nature he was known for, despite the blood on his face.

While you swiveled around in your bar stool, anxious as all hell you immediately turned back around as you saw three men clean up three dead bodies and broken glass. You must have had a reaction because the poor bartender slid you a shot glass full of tequila.

[valentinxd]

There are a lot of Keanu's works on youtube

Night Heat (1985) season 1 ep 1 and 2

One Step Away (1985)

Youngblood (1986)

Flying (1986)

Young Again (1986)

Act of Vegeance (1986)

Babes in Toyland (1986)

Under the Influence (1986)

The Brotherhood of Justice (1987)

The Prince of Pennsylvania (1988)

Life Under Water (1989)

Tune in Tomorrow (1990)

Freaked (1993)

👀👀❤️❤️ thank you 🙏