One-Shot Collection - Keanu Reeves.

-𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙒𝙞𝙘𝙠 -

/smut warning/

"Hello?" I call out.

I sigh, crossing my arms. I'm always so paranoid when John isn't home. I look around the big empty living room. High end furniture and accents dress the room. I'm all alone in a big house, wondering if my husband will even come home tonight. He could be dead right now, some big mafia guy standing over him and laughing for all I know. I try to push the thought of him being dead out of mind. I love John, I really do, but sometimes his work a little more dangerous then I'd like it to be. I walk over the kitchen, tracing my fingers over the clean counters. I might as well make dinner, I have nothing better to do. I put my hands behind my head, putting my hair up in a pony tail. I switch on the kitchen lights, luminating the dark empty house. I walk over to the cabinet, pulling out various pots and pans. I end up picking out a couple pots, deciding on pasta for dinner.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to play music, connecting it to the speakers that sit in the corner of the kitchen. "This night has opened my eyes" by the smiths start playing. I pull a box of pasta from the cupboard, filling the pot with water and setting to boil. I sway my hips a bit, getting into the song that plays throughout the kitchen. John and I really like the smiths. I close my eyes and revisit the memory of our wedding, the smiths playing at the reception. I start to sing to the lyrics "A grown man of twenty-five oh, he said he'd cure your ill's, but he didn't and never will" I don't have an amazing voice, but I've learned to carry a tune. I turn my attention to the stove, putting the pasta into the boiling water. I hear a deep voice from behind me carry the next lyric "Oh, save your life, because you've only got one" I turn around and see John standing behind the counter, arms out and singing in a very theatrical way. I get an overwhelming feeling of relief at the fact that he's alive.

I walk around the counter, letting him pull me into a hug. His suit is tattered and his face covered in cuts from who knows what. He smells like a mix of cologne and gun powder, a smell I've grown common to. I tilt my head up, looking at him "You made it home" I whisper. He smiles, kissing me on my forehead. In response, I stand on my tip toes to kiss his jaw. He pulls away scanning me up and down in my tank top and sweat pants. "You look beautiful" he whispers "John, I'm practically wearing rags" he smiles, nodding his head no. He leans in, placing his lips on mine. I kiss him back, placing a hand on the back of his neck. He pulls away, his coffee eyes swimming in my clear blue ones. His eyes drift from my eyes to my lips. He once again kisses me, putting more passion into it. I've missed this feeling. I haven't seen him in almost 24 hours. He places his hands on my hips, drawing me as close as he can to him. He starts to become more aggressive, a new passion burning in him. He walks me to the counter, not taking his lips off mine for even a second. Our tongues explore each others mouths, not leaving a inch un-touched. He lifts me up, placing me on top of the counter.

He pulls away, looking at me "You sure you want to do this?" he says in a low husky tone. Give me one reason why I shouldn't. I nod, begging for his touch with my eyes. He sheds off his tattered jacket and shirt not breaking eye contact with me. I do the same, taking off my tank top and dirty sweat pants. He comes back, kissing my neck. My hands wrap around him, grabbing at his shoulders. I kiss his neck in return, placing kisses between the nook of his jaw and collarbone. He sighs into my shoulder, tracing circles into my shoulder blade. He pulls away, placing hickeys along my chest. I let out a quiet moan, grabbing a fistful of hair. He leaves a trail of kisses down my stomach, finally reaching the top of my underwear. He slides them off, looking up at me the whole time. He starts placing kisses on my inner thighs, heading rolling back in sensitivity. He starts to lick around my clit, making me moan louder. I clench my legs around his neck, pushing his head down farther. "John...don't stop" I breathe. I can feel my legs starting to twitch, my mouth opening a little in pleasure. He pulls away, wiping his mouth with his thumb a little. He gets closer to me, laying me flat against the cold counter marble. He takes my hands, pinning them up above my head. He takes his free hand, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his waist a bit. He aligns himself, letting me breathe for a moment. I gasp, feeling him as he enters me quickly. He gets comfortable, pushing his hair back.

He keeps his hold of my hands behind my head, allowing him to start pumping slowly. I turn my head to the side, letting my cheek feel the coolness of the counter, breathing heavily against my arm. He leans over, grunting and swearing under his breath in my ear. He bites the lobe of my ear softly, letting the sweet sounds of his moans fill my ear. I furrow my eyebrows "Mhmmm, keep going" I mutter under my breath. He becomes more aggressive with it, pumping faster as he sucks on my neck. I wrap my legs around his waist, trying to get him deeper. I can feel a familiar feeling bubble in my stomach. The smell of burning pasta fills my nose, but Ignore it. My legs start to shake, sending my head back. "You like that don't you?" he growls against my neck. I start to feel my high, my breathing picking up. I can feel him become more sloppy, but still fast at pace. His mouth opens a little against my neck, making both of us a gasping mess. He starts to slow down, grunting more and more. I reach the top of my high, moaning very loudly. At the sounds of my pleasure, he finishes. He shakes for a moment, dragging a long "fuuuuuck" in my ear. I gasp, catching my breath. He pulls out, abandoning his grasp on my wrists. He sits me up, pulling me in a long and hard kiss. The smell of burning noodles hits my nose again, the fire alarm proceeding to go off. He pulls away from the kiss, smiling at me.

"I think your noodles are burning"

"shut up"