#fic: bodyguardAU

[keanuvibe]

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 3

A/N: i hope you enjoy!

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: some fluff-- if you squint, sexual overtones, and minor violence.

The quiet mumble of someone's voice brought you awake with slow start. You blinked a few times, noting how your room was still dark, save for the lamp beside your bed. 

“(Y/N), it’s time for training.” John’s gentle voice wafted through your ears and you let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling over to look at the man. Training. Your father, Francesco, asked John to begin training you shortly after the incident with the motorcyclists; even though you're already trained. Your tired eyes drank in the sight of John. This was-- in the month and a half you’ve known him-- the first time you’ve ever seen him not wearing a suit. Instead, he wore a simple gray t-shirt with red lettering across the front and dark toned sweats. His hair had been partially tied back in a low bun as well, with a few loose strands that covered his eyes. 

“Mio dio, che ore sono?” ‘[My god, what time is it?]’ You mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. Whenever you were tired, Italian was always your default.

“Sono le sei del mattino.” ‘[It’s six in the morning.]’ John answered smoothly. You paused rubbing your face and looked at his figure, which was still looming over your bedside. 

“You’ve spoken Italian this whole time?” You asked, your eyes staring into his dark ones. Never before has he mentioned that he could speak your language. Your mind now thought back to a few conversations you had with your mother, about John, In Italian while the man only stood two feet away from you. 

“Yes.” He spoke with a little nod. You shook your head and climbed out of bed, the coolness of the room causing goosebumps to scatter across your body. You flipped on a few more lights now illuminating the room fully. 

“Thanks for the heads up.” You answered, walking into your walk-in closet and pulling on a pair of leggings, an old t-shirt and socks with tennis shoes. John’s eyes followed your body as you trekked across the room gathering the things you'd need. Once ready, the two of you exited your room and made your way the kitchen, noting how the rest of the house was still asleep. The morning sky was beginning to wake up as well, casting a blue glow throughout the room.

“I just want some-” You paused, yawning, “Coffee.” You finished, placing some grounds into the machine. John stood near the entryway, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded. When his eyes were focused upon something else, you took the opportunity to fully enjoy his presence. Seeing John in something other than a suit made you feel weirdly domestic; with his hair tied in a low bun rather than slicked back for business and his casual stance. He almost seemed more relaxed this way. Your mind couldn't help but wonder ‘What is domestic bliss John like?’ The coffee machine beeped, taking your attention away from your bodyguard. You quietly grabbed a thermos and began pouring the hot liquid.

“Ready?” You asked, walking over to the man. He nodded, standing up straight and gesturing for you to lead the way. As you stepped passed him, your nose picked up a faint whiff of his cologne. Over the time he’s been your bodyguard-- One month, one week, and 6 days-- you found yourself falling more and more for him. John, a-- when needed-- cold-blooded assassin. It was weird; even your own brain couldn't explain it. You have never been interested in dating-- especially due to your dads stupid rule: ‘You must marry into the mafia.’ What if the criminal life isn't something you want? However, being born and raised in a crime family makes it feel impossible to escape. As far as your aware, John’s also so intertwined into the business. And leaving? Is that something he would even want; the two of you leaving for good and finding normal jobs. You liked the idea of being a teacher, an English teacher. You shook your head, not wanting to get too ahead of yourself. 

John’s footsteps followed your own as you entered the stairway and tracked downstairs to the gym. You flipped on the light switch and the fluorescent LED’s crackled to life. The gym isn’t much to write home about. The floor was all yellow hardwood with a handful of blue mats scattered about for combat practice. The walls were brick but had been painted white and one wall contained a row of mirrors with a metal bar stretched across-- almost as though it was meant for dancers. There were a few exercise machines in one corner of the room; a weight display with dumbbells ranging from one pound to fifty, an elliptical, and a treadmill.

“So, what’s on the docket today?” You asked your bodyguard, turning to face him. John was nearly finished with wrapping his knuckles when the two of you made eye contact. 

“Combat training.” He answered while biting the tape to cut it, followed by handing the roll over to you. You quietly wrapped your hand, observing as John began stretching. He stretched his arms first, pulling them across his chest. You bit the inside of your cheek at the sight of his biceps. He then stretched them behind his head, flexing the muscle even more. You felt your stomach gather heat and had to pinch the inside of your palm with your nails to disrupt the feeling. You two were already going to be all over each other with this training-- you really didn't want to be turned on as well. John turned to face the mirrors and you took note how he studied himself while he stretched. You finished with wrapping your hand then walked over and stood next to the man. The reflection of the pair of you in the mirror gave you chills. John towered a good ten inches over you, the top of your head reaching just below his shoulder. You didn't want to be narcissistic, but you two would make a hot couple. 

“Shall we?” You asked, a cheeky grin across your face. John rolled his eyes, trying to hide his amusement. The man walked over to the blue mats and pulled a few out so you two had a soft surface. He then stood on top of them, waiting for you to also step onto the soft surface. You took a sip of your coffee then cracked your taped knuckles, getting into a defensive position. John mimicked you're stance, giving you a small smile before he quickly kicked at your legs in an attempt to knock you over. You dodged his attack by jumping over his leg and to the left of him. As he was regaining his balance, you attempted to knock his knee forward so he would fall; however, John grabbed your body and twisted you around so you landed on your back instead. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, leaning over with his hands resting on his knees. You shook your head ‘yes’ and sat up, opening your eyes again. John grabbed around your bicep and helped you stand up straight, his hand lingering on your lower back. You swear you even felt him gently rub the spot; instead of keeping his hand still, as he has in the past. You quickly pushed through the pain of being thrown to the ground and got back into your defensive position. John hesitated but then copied your movements, a gleam in his eye. 

This time you took the first move, going for the man's legs first. You were able to knock him down onto one knee, however when you went to finish the move John quickly grabbed your wrist, halting your arm entirely. You two made eye contact with heavy breaths. You felt your arousal from earlier spring back up into action. The way John’s large hard perfectly encompasses your entire wrist didn't help the fact, nor the way he had the upper hand. His dark eyes gazed up at yours through his lashes. Your breath hitched as John took advantage of your hesitation, once again using his momentum to flip you on your back.

“Ow.” You murmured, glaring at your bodyguard. The man shrugged and stood up from his kneeled position. He then offered you a hand, which you grabbed. You made almost no effort as John basically yanked you up on his own, standing you upright. You thanked him softly and walked over to your thermos, taking a sip of the hot coffee. 

“You’re too distracted.” John’s voice echoed throughout the gym. Even though he wasn't loud, the low timber of his tone carried throughout the corners of the room. 

“I've noticed.” You answered, looking over at the man. He stood with a water bottle in hand and a towel draped around his neck. 

“You can’t let distractions get to you. You would be dead if I was one of D’Antonio’s idiots.” He spoke, carefully dotting his forehead of sweat with the towel end. 

“So, you’re saying I'm dumber than Santino’s lackeys?” You questioned, placing your hand on your hip and twisting your head. John realized what he said and let out a quiet sigh, squeezing his eyes closed in frustration. Memories of him arguing with Helen came to thought. Their petty disagreements would last a couple of days, however, John was usually the one to end the streak. He used to make her breakfast when he was ready for Helen to forgive him-- even when the issue wasn't necessarily his fault. 

“No.” He raised his head, making eye contact with you. “That’s not what I meant at all.” His voice remained monotone, for the most part. The fire in your eyes tried so hard to be intimidating, however, John didn't feel an ounce of fright when it came to you.

“Sure. Whatever, let’s just continue this lesson. I want to go lay back down and sleep.” You muttered, letting John’s comment climb under your skin. You watched as John got into position, then followed his action. The man started this time, grabbing you by your loose top with both fists. You looked up at him with a glare and began hitting your elbow onto his arms to release his hold. John’s hands let go of your jacket and as he stepped back to counter, you grabbed his arm and locked his elbow so he couldn't use it. You then crouched down bringing him with you and used your momentum to roll the man on top of you, landing him on his back. 

John quickly recovered, turning himself over so he rest on one knee. Your heavy breathing covered the silence of the gym as the man looked up at you through his dark hair, which had now fallen from his bun. You felt chills crawl up your spine, your body reacting to his enticing stare. John got up from his position and hastily jogged towards you, gearing back a punch. You stopped the blow by grabbing his forearm with both hands before swiftly removing one and landing it into his gut. The man groaned, stuttering for a moment before he regained his speed and picked you up by your thighs, sending your body over his shoulder. He flipped around, throwing both himself and you onto the blue mats. You landed on your back once again and John landed right above you. Your chests barely touched as you breathed heavily, and his face was mere inches above your own. The flame of your excitement grew in size as a throb took over your crotch. You let out a soft sigh, looking into John’s eyes. 

John felt as your breasts ever so lightly tapped his chest with every deep breath you took. He was steadily aware about the closeness of your bodies. His eyes scanned your face looking for any signs of a direction and caught your glances between his lips and eyes. You could feel John’s breath spread across your lips as you two leaned in closer. You could feel his beard ghosting your skin and his lips so lightly touching your own. You closed your eyes, meeting his lips to yours. You both inhaled sharply, leaning into the others body before John broke the kiss, sitting back away from you. His lips and nose were more pinky-toned due to the pressure of the kiss. You bit your lip and giggled quietly, trying to contain your glee. John and you kissed. Kissed.

“Wow.” You murmured, finally greeting John’s gaze. His intense-- but caring-- stare caused your cheeks to gather heat. He gave you a small grin in response, his ego boosting slightly over the fact that he could cause you to react in such a way. 

“That’ll be all the training for today.” He murmured, giving you another endearing look before standing up and grabbing his water bottle. 

——————

Two days later 

You hadn't left the house in three days, and honestly, were beginning to go mad. Your father wouldn't let you leave, John as well. You'd planned to have lunch with a few friends today, the plans being made months ago-- before Santino began trying to murder you. They were from Jersey, and didn't visit the city very often-- busy with their own lives. At least once a month the three of you get together and catch up. You honestly needed someone to gossip about John with, now more than ever. And the fact that you know he speaks Italian, now, you certainly didn't want to talk with your mom about his physique anymore. 

You and John currently sat in your bedroom. You were sitting at your desk, working on a few business items for your dad. John was across the room, standing next to a window with his arms crossed in front of his chest. You two hadn't spoken much since the kiss. You didn't know if it was because John considered it a mistake, or because you two were both too bashful to say anything. Whatever the reason, it made you a little sad John hadn't mentioned it. Is he expecting you to bring it up? Or sweep it under the rug? The ambiguity of it all was driving you up the wall with curiosity. 

The ringtone of your cell phone caused you to jump as it echoed through your bedroom. Your eyes glanced across the room, locking with Johns as you steadily picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You answered, swallowing and looking away from the enticing man. 

“(Y/N)!” Your friend, Dottie, spoke through the phone. A smile crossed your cheeks, easily recognizing her voice. 

“Hi Dot.” You murmured, feeling John's eyes burn a hole in the side of your head. 

“Where and when are we eating!?” Another voice called through the phone. June, your other friend. The three of you have been friends since you were school age, thirteen. You met at a private institution, due to the fact your parents wouldn't allow you to attend public school. It was too dangerous to be so seen-- especially due to your family's business.

“Um, about that…” You began, trailing off and meeting Johns gaze. You stood from your seat and made your way to the bathroom, quickly tip toeing across the floor. Once there, you closed the door. 

“What do you mean ‘about that?’” Dottie asked, you could hear the frustration in her tone.

“Okay,” You whispered, “Let’s meet and Coopers.” 

“Why're you whispering, (Y/N)?” June asked, concern in her voice. Dottie mimicked June’s concern with the same question.

“I'll explain at lunch.” You answered, still hushed. You eyes glanced at the clock in the bathroom, noting it was only eleven in the morning. 

“Okay, weirdo.” Dot spoke, “What time?” You could hear the white noise in the background, a sign the girls were already driving. They'd probably take an hour with traffic. That gave you plenty of time to get ready, but the real hurdle was: how were you going to ditch John? You didn't want to, however, girl time sounds a lot better without a giant man looming over your shoulder. Plus, you need to talk about the kiss. 

“Lets meet at twelve-thirty.” You remarked, biting your lip. The two girls agreed with the time and ended the call, you wishing them safe travels. You felt your anxiety raise a little, walking to the door and twisting the door handle to exit. 

“Who was that?” John asked. You jumped, but felt relieved to find he was still by his spot at the window. He still had his arms folded and even in his suit you could see the definition of his bicep. It made your knees slightly weak.  

“Oh, um, it was my friends.” You answered truthfully, making your way back to your desk. You kept your gaze on the floor, letting out a breath you'd been holding.

“What did they want?” John persisted, now unfolding his arms and beginning to saunter over to where you stood. 

“Well, we were going to get lunch.” You began, mindlessly organizing papers on your desk to appear busy. Also to distract yourself from looking at John. 

“Were?” John questioned. You could tell by his voice that he was closer now. He moved so smoothly, you didn't even hear his footsteps across the floor. 

“I'm on house arrest. I can't go.” Your tone was pointed, in hopes to guilt trip John. Your gaze remained on your desk, however the hair on your arms pricked up as you felt Johns body now next to your own. His frame was so large it blocked some of the natural light casting on you. 

“Right.” He nodded, “You can’t.” You felt frustration bubble up in your chest like you've held in a sneeze. With a huff, you finally looked up at John. His dark eyes softened a little as they met the sight of your face. 

“I would rather die by Santino than be locked in my own house.” You spoke, your anger finally bubbling out. John seemed a bit taken aback by your remark, but brushed it off just as quick. His hand gently rest on your arm, causing waves of hormones to rush through your body. Even the slightest most meaningless touches got to you. 

“(Y/N),” He spoke softly, “It's for your own good.” His response made you turn back to look at your desk. Your mind processed the possible exits from your bedroom. There are a few windows in your room with a roof right below, however, the bathroom window seemed the easiest and most obvious way to get out. You could toy that you were going to take a bath, maybe even run the water so it wouldn't sound suspicious. There was also your old Ipod. You could turn on an album, for even more realism. You nodded to yourself, fully listing your plan like bullet points in your head. First, get ready while the bathtub is filling. Second, successfully escape through the window without anyone noticing. Third, catch a cab to Coopers. 

“Well,” You began, looking back to John. “I guess I'll just have a bath then. Since I'm not allowed to leave.” The man shifted on his feet, memories of seeing you naked from your last bath floating across his mind.

“That you can do.” He murmured, taking a step back as to give you space to get around him and go to the en suite. You shuffled by him and walked to your closet. You first grabbed the important things-- keys, phone, wallet-- from your purse, the , picked out an outfit. However, you couldn't walk to the bathroom carrying all this stuff. Your eyes scanned your closet and you saw your robe hanging. You grabbed the article and wrapped it around the items you'd gathered. Once finished with that, you exited your closet, meeting the gaze of John. An idea popped into your head, seeing the man stand to stoic across the room. If he was going to give you a hard time, then you are going to give him a hard time. You quietly set your stuff down in the bathroom before walking back out to your bedroom. You could feel the mans stares as traced your way to your bed you began to unbutton an oversized flannel you had on. 

“I figured I’d undress out here, since my dirty clothes hamper is right there.” You spoke with an airy tone, pointing towards the basket. You once again looked up to meet John's eyes. The softness of them now had been abandoned. He still stood at your desk, arms folded, but carried a heavy glare. It wasn't a malice filled look, in fact it was more along the lines of ‘Daddy likes what you're teasing, baby’. You took that as a sign to continue, carefully letting the flannel fall from your shoulders as you turned to face away from him. Wearing no bra, you tossed the shirt to your hamper, your bare back now exposed to John. You swear you heard him let out a breath, but didn't let your ego boost too much as you began to unbutton your jeans. You hooked your fingers into the waist of the pants and began to move your hips, slowly shucking off the tight pair. Johns eagerness became exposed as he let out a muffled groan, seeing you bend over to remove the jeans from your feet; your ass stuck up in the air. With an innocent huff you removed the pair and tossed them into the hamper. Now standing half naked, you covered your breasts with one arm and turned around to face John once again. He was restrained, you could see he was fighting every ounce of human nature that coursed through his veins. His eyes drank in the sight of your body, gazing and adoring each curve and crease. With a satisfied smile, you slowly walked over to the man, teasingly. 

“Like what you see, Jonathan?” You smirked, knowing the effect you had on the man. John took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He held back every instinct he had to grab your form and fuck you roughly right then. Your body slowly stepped closer to him, so close that the arm covering your breasts was only an inch away from his chest. 

“I do.” He responded, however his breath betrayed him, leaving his neck such an airy tone. He cleared his throat afterwards. You smiled softly, using your free hand to trace up his chest, feeling the muscular, yet soft, squish of his body. 

“Hmm.” You responded, a grin growing upon your face. “Guess I’d better go shower then.” Your hand now tracing down to just above his belt. The man's breath hitched as you slid your fingers under his pant line, feeling just below his navel and above his pubic hair. His dark chocolate eyes stared into your own, but you didn't let his attempts at intimidating get under your skin. Instead you so softly ran your fingertips over his pants and across his hardening member, watching as John mildly shivered under your touch. With a satisfied smirk, you took a few steps back, noting the upset expression cross your bodyguards face. 

“See you when I’m done.” You murmured, walking towards your ensuite with a swing of your hips; your half naked body on display in its full glory. Before entering the bathroom, you gave John one last look over your shoulder. His eyes met your own, allowing you to see the frustration splayed across them. You gave him a wink with a gentle bite of your lip before closing and locking the door. 

You immediately got to work, first starting the bath faucet and turning on the Ipod. You then applied makeup, checking to make sure the water didn't overflow, occasionally. Once you finished a quick makeup look, the tub reached its capacity and you turned it off. The deafening silence that the faucet left was painfully evident; even with the music playing. A deep breath of courage filled your lungs and you turned the music up a few notches, then changed into the outfit you'd chosen. With one last determined look in the mirror, you turned to the bathroom window and slid it open, carefully, as to not cause any noise. You then popped your head out, checking your surroundings before using the toilet as a stepping stool. You threw your legs out first and were able to slide from the window to the roof below. It wasn't far, only a couple feet down. You used some old lattice fencing that covered the side of your house to climb down, landing on the grass with a muted thud and an impressed huff.

[nadiasficrecs]

not quite by emma1234

pairing: louis/harry

wordcount: 34,163

summary: Niall gives Harry an exasperated look, nodding slowly. “Okay...so do you want to explain why we’re hiring Louis? And do you want to explain it without making any mention of his soft hair or ample buttocks?”

As Harry prepares for the premiere of his first blockbuster film, his manager encourages him to hire a bodyguard as a precautionary measure. Harry ends up making an unusual choice.

[shirazkindofgirl]

Chapters: 4/6 Fandom: Holby City Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe Characters: Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell, Charlotte Dunn, Cameron Dunn, Alex Dawson Additional Tags: Serena as the Home Secretary, Bernie as her ex-Army specialist protection officer, Bodyguard AU, the AU fic no-one asked for but I wrote any way, why did I decide this was a good idea?, Blood and Violence, Guns, Character Death, heed the warnings, Explosions Summary:

Bernie Wolfe is an ex-Army officer who served in Afghanistan. When a serious injury ends her career, Bernie becomes a Specialist Protection Officer. After thwarting a terrorist attack on a London-bound train, Bernie is assigned to protect the Home Secretary, Serena Campbell MP.

[teenwolfficrec]

Strike Softly (Away From The Body)

by qhuinn (AO3)

Pairing: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

Oneshot

Word count: 34k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Derek is a bodyguard and Stiles his spoiled, resistant client.

Read Here!

-> Follow me for more fic recs!

[tankun]

Do you have any bodyguardAU!Yoonkook fics? (With obviously bttm Yoongi and top Jungkook)

You know me, Anon ;} If it YoonKook and it has Bottom!Yoongi and Top!Jungkook, I am there!

Also I apologize for the late reply!

i blow up buildings (but i’d blow you) by sugaretreat   ║ Secret Agent AU ║ Bodyguard Jungkook ║ Guns ║ Violence ║ Enemies to Lovers ║ Sexual Content ║ Slightly Jealous Yoongi ║

Unfortunately there isn’t many bodyguard fics :{ I have one that is in my queue that is in unfinished multichapter, but I havn’t had the chance to read it yet. (I don’t rec unless I’ve read it first!) 

I tried my best, Anon.. Hopefully you can forgive me!

[melanoradrood]

Mid-Week Check In?

It’s not Monday. Whatever.

DECISIONS HAVE BEEN MADE.

Appreciation Weeks

I’m not participating in Chirrut Week, because I literally cannot fucking gif Chirrut without including Baze, and I cannot do Baze Week without including Chirrut. Those two cannot be separated. It’s a fucking crime. I won’t do it.

SO, during Baze Week, I’m going to be doing BOTH BAZE AND CHIRRUT.

Next week is actually Rey Appreciation Week, so I’ll be doing that instead.

Writing

BodyguardAU Ch1 has been posted! Ch 2 is actually half written but it involves like mission fic type stuff and I suck at that so it will either be done tonight or it will be done in two months who knows. I’m not stressing about it, though, and when it’s done, it’s being posted. There’s no schedule with this.

AmnesiacAU Ch1 is about 75% done but I had to pause on that because it got sad and I wasn’t in the mood so yeah. There’s your warning. It was too angsty for me to keep writing it. YOU ASKED FOR THIS FIC.

HothSmut is in the works for the next Crowd Funded Crack Porn. In case you were not aware, @kotaface and I are making this a fucking thing. Yeah. Also @literatiruinedme has requested a follow up for the last one I posted, so that’s like in the back of my mind but right now Hoth Smut is literally opened and I swear to god I want only one comment on it when it’s posted.

And finally, ficlets... I have ficlets that have been completed for weeks but aren’t posted sooooo.... I need to post those. Just like an FYI if you thought I ignored your prompt, no, I’m just a dumbass that hasn’t posted it yet.

THIS HAS BEEN A POST.

[light--reef]

How often do you read the fics ppl tag you in? Do you keep a list or tag so others can read them too? I tried looking but probably didnt look hard enough :/

if there is a fic on tumblr, i’ve reblogged it in the bodyguardau tag. as mentioned before, there isn’t any actual fics on the au, only ficlets and snippets people have written. I keep everything organized in the tag no worries anon C:

[keanuvibe]

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hi! sorry im awful at uploading lol. my personal life rn is on fire and i haven’t had all the time in the world to write, but managed to pull this chapter together so :) thats coolio. 

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: swears, violence, a lil fluff

“So, tell me everything.” June smirked, leaning over the table towards you. You had managed to meet the girls on time, only a few minutes past twelve- thirty. The three of you got seated shortly after, and ordered your cocktails; beginning the rounds of catching up you had to do. The restaurant is diner themed, set in the 1950’s. One wall of the building was a bar, fit with barstools, an ice cream machine, as well as a soda machine. There was even a section where you could order homemade candy. Little booths scattered the wall across from the bar, and tables separated the two. The floor was checkered design donning many muddy footprints and the walls were covered in old-timey photos of local streets. You and the girls sat at a booth, June and Dottie sitting across from you.

“Okay, get this,” You began, leaning in towards your friends, “Santino, you know, mio cugino pazzo. He’s mad at my father and is trying to kill me for it.”  ‘[My crazy cousin.]’ You finished and took another long sip of your cocktail. June and Dottie stared with their mouths agape. You calmly set down your drink and smiled shyly, eyes bouncing between the girls. You loved your friends, honestly. The three of you have been close since you were young teens. June and Dot also had connections to the Italian mafia, their fathers having run a section of both New York and New Jersey; although they aren't as intertwined as you. June is the oldest, one year older than yourself. She’s an old soul, that you know for sure. She wears dated clothes and uses dated household items; in fact, you can't recall June ever purchasing something new from the stores you and Dot go to. Hell, even her car is a 1978 AMC Pacer. Dottie is only a few months older than you, on the other hand. She is the spitting image of a pinup girl. She wears her hair in elegant waves and has bangs, she even wears button up dresses and has big hair bows for when shes feeling fancy. You can’t recall a time when she didn’t wear red lipstick nearly everyday.

“Should you even be outside?” Dottie whispered, leaning closer to your figure. Her New York accent was a little amplified by the drinks she’s had already. You shrugged as your answer, and June scoffed. 

“You, (Y/N), are unbelievable.” The waiter to walked up to your table, halting your conversation. The three of you blinked at the other, little grins holding back giggles ready to erupt. The waiter asked for your orders, then as soon as the young man had left, you jumped right back into it. 

“You guys should see my bodyguard.” You spoke, a smirk donning your face. Your mind wondered as to what he was up to right now. Maybe he's still sitting waiting for you to exit the bathroom, or, maybe he's already begun the witch hunt. 

“Ah, yes. John? As you've mentioned. Show us! the way you've described him- He sounds gorgeous.” Dottie eagerly bounced in her seat, urging you to show them a picture. You pulled out your phone, stomach dropping at the several messages that donned the lock screen; John’s contact name on each one. Witch hunt is it. 

12:47: Very funny. Where are you? 

12:59: Where are you. 

1:13: (Y/N). This isn’t a game.

1:21: I’m coming to find you. 

At least it took him almost an hour and a half to notice. You bit your cheek, looking up at June and Dottie. The two girls were engaged in conversation, talking about something or another. You cleared the notifications and unlocked your phone, hoping to god you got to finish your lunch before John caught up. You opened the camera roll and scrolled through until you found a picture of you and the bodyguard. Somehow, you'd gotten him to agree to a photo. He was bent over so his head was level with your own. Due to the lighting, the man was squinting, however the dark gaze caused a chill to form down your back. You cleared your throat and flipped your phone around to show the girls. Dottie stopped talking and immediately looked at the screen

“Oh my god.” She murmured, sitting back and putting her hand over her chest. “He’s so handsome.” June grabbed the phone from you to get a better look. 

“You have to fuck him.” The eldest commented with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. You let out a short laugh, snatching your phone back from the girls grasp. The two girls giggled at your embarrassment, Dot even took a coy sip from her drink. 

“Was that gray in his beard? How old is he?” Dottie asked, looking you in the eye and sipping on her own cocktail. 

“Don’t laugh, okay? He’s mid fifties.” A blush crawled across your cheeks as your words escaped your lips. June and Dottie blinked a couple times before Dot finally let out a snort. 

“Going geriatric, now? hm?” June spoke, raising her brow and taking a gulp of her drink. While Dottie laughed at June’s question, you glanced over their shoulders, witnessing two burly men sit down at a table across from yours. One of them made eye contact with you, glare evident in their gaze, before looking back to their buddy. You felt your skin crawl and cleared your throat, pushing the feeling away. June’s laughter brought you back, now looking between the two girls again. 

“Well, He- He really doesn't feel old. Not when we're together.” You shrugged, playing with the condensation on your drink. 

“I mean, you’re only twenty-six,” Dot spoke, her eyes glancing between you and June. “You’re young and hot. I don't see an issue.” Your eyes shot up to meet Dottie’s. She smiled at you, her dark brown eyes warming your core. 

“Who are we to judge,” June began, a laugh escaping her throat. “I slept with that old guy, remember? He was, like, almost sixty and I was drunk as hell.” You and Dottie laughed, remembering that night. It was June’s twenty-third birthday. You three went to the club to celebrate and the eldest of your group ended up getting too wasted on absinthe. Which resulted in her sleeping with Mitch Johnson, an old friend of your fathers. Small world. 

“And you,” June pointed to Dottie, “Are a homewrecker.” 

“He never said he was married.” Dottie responded, sticking her tongue out at the woman. The three of you chuckled amongst yourselves before a silence took over. Your eyes once again scanned the room, not being able to shake the eerie feeling those two men implanted. They still sat across the diner and occasionally their eyes would make contact with your own, causing a chill to run up your spine. You quietly flipped your phone over, checking for any more messages from John. The screen remained blank, setting panic to freely course through your veins. His previous message was sent fifteen minutes ago, which meant the man was probably on his way right now. Plus, your parents didn’t live far from Coopers. 

The men both stood up now, locking eyes with you. They then looked at the other, as though confirmation was in order, before beginning to walk in the direction that you and the girls sat. Anxiety courses firmly through your veins now, and you could feel your palms gather sweat. 

“Girls,” You murmured, gathering their attention. “There are two men walking in our direction now, and I’m pretty sure they are after me.” You kept your voice low, trying to pretend as though you are oblivious. June and Dottie became physically uncomfortable, now shifting in their seats and looking over their shoulders. You felt guilt cross your person, now realizing how serious the situation is. You put your two best friends in harm's way. I mean, It’s not like they’re completely useless; they have parents in the Mafia, they’re trained in combat and weaponry. However, the guilt still bothered you that it was your fault.

“How do we go about this?” Dot asked, reaching for her purse. Your eyes watched as the woman dug into her bag. The pop of a gun chamber sounded as she began to fill it with bullets. June tied her hair back and began to stretch her arms. You sometimes forget that June is trained extensively in Jiu Jitsu. You also looked back to the men who were still making their way to you, passing through the crowded dining room floor. 

“Should we leave the public space?” You murmured, “I don’t want civilian casualties.” 

“Yes.” June agreed, standing up. “Gather your things, quickly.” She added. The oldest tossed a fifty dollar bill onto the table to pay for the drinks and the food you didn’t get to eat. You led the way, pushing through the crowded dining room to the exit. You glanced back, seeing the men become more frustrated. You are aware of the other, knowing what little cat and mouse game was occurring. 

Your palms shoved the door open, the three of you stumbling over onto the sidewalk. You looked both ways before leading right. You didn’t know what to do, whether you should try to outrun them, or stick up and fight. Maybe if you kill them it’ll send a message to Santino. Though, he may not even care. As he’s got twenty more men to fill the space those two would leave. You made sure June and Dottie still followed, checking over your shoulder occasionally. The three of you pushed through the crowds of New York, your main destination being Dottie’s vehicle. Your eyes also kept a lookout for John. He probably tracked your phone, you knew he had the ability anyways. You’re just glad the little ploy worked for as long as it did. You turned right down an alleyway, taking a shortcut towards the parking garage that Dot’s car was in. June looked over her shoulder, alarm blaring through her veins as she spotted the men. 

“They’re still behind us.” She spoke, looking between you and Dottie. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on your hips. 

“Va al diavolo!” ‘[Go to hell!]’ You cursed, throwing your hands up. Dot quickly grabbed you by the arm, pulling you as she began to run to the end. June grunted as the three of you approached a dead end, meeting a chain link fence.

“Fanculo. Okay, you two climb over.” ‘[Fuck.]’ You spoke, gesturing to the fence that stood in front of you. Your eyes met those of your friends, all breathing heavily from the sprint. Echoed footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the alley. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the silhouettes of the men headed in your direction.

“Go!” You spoke with a harshness towards your friends.

“Not without you!” Dottie raised her tone, hands on hips. You turned your head again, seeing them get closer.

“Dot, just go!” You finally yelled. The girls hesitated, however respected your wishes and quickly climbed the fence, hopping to the other side. They stood now, staring as the men approached, getting ready to jump back over if need be.

“Santino it ha Inviato?” ‘[Did Santino send you?]’ You asked the men, slowly walking towards them.

“Si.” ‘[Yes.]’ One responded, their faces finally becoming clear from the backlight. You looked at them, noting how they both looked like average Italian men. Dark hair, olive eyes, and warm skin. Their faces were covered in a few scars, and you noted how they both wore suits with visible holsters resting on their hips

“It ha mandato per uccidermi?” ‘[Did he send you to kill me?]’ You asked, the men now only ten feet away from you. The darkness of the alley sent a chill down your spine, and you glanced back at the girls to make sure they were alright. Dot had her hand in her purse, most likely gearing up for when shit turned sideways. June held a stoic look, almost a resting bitch face, staring down the two men. 

“Si.” The same one answered again. They now stood only five feet away, stopping in front of you. You felt the sweat drip down your forehead, the buggy summer heat beginning to take claim of your body. You took a deep breath, wondering where John was, and how now would be a good time for him to suddenly appear. The men cracked their knuckles, rolling their shoulders and looking at you with sinister smiles. 

“Di ‘a Santino: E un peccato che sia troppo codardo per uccidermi.” ‘[Tell Santino: It’s a shame he’s too much of a coward to kill me himself.]’ You spoke, remembering the moves that your bodyguard had taught you. You leapt forward, first knocking one of the men down by pushing in his kneecaps. You took the moment to quickly hit the next guy, however, he blocked your blow, sending you back a few feet. The second man took advantage of your hesitation and grabbed you, throwing you into one of the walls. You let out a yelp, feeling the brick scrape bare skin harshly. The first guy stood up, and threw a fist at you, however, you quickly dodged and used his own momentum to toss his body into the wall. 

You felt as the second lackey quickly punched your gut, causing you to double over in pain. June and Dottie stood yelling which you could hear through ringing ears. You recovered quickly, countering the second man with a swift kick to his shin. He groaned, but recovered and swung a fist at you. You managed to dodge the blow and delivered a hearty boot to his groin. He quickly dropped to the ground in pain and you grabbed the pistol from his holster, pulling the trigger and placing one bullet into his skull. The second man used this moment to grab your loose shirt, and throw you into the brick, scraping your skin once again. He lifted his foot and conveyed a kick to your gut, sending you to double over. He used his fist to hit the sides of your face, throwing your head back and forth. You could feel blood begin to drip down your face, the pain that each snap of your neck caused, you could hear June and Dot yelling but it was faint. Time felt slowed, your heartbeat was like a drum in your ear. Then, a gunshot. 

All movements stopped, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground near your own. You slowly slid down, ignoring the burning chafe the brick left. Hot tears stung your eyes as you covered them with your hands, a harsh sob leaving your throat. Your body ached, your face burned, and blood was the only taste that donned your mouth. You heard the chain link rattle as somebody climbed over it, as well as a huff when they landed. A gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you saw as they knelt down, due to the shadow.

“(Y/N).” John. A hoarse cry escaped your throat upon hearing your bodyguards gentle voice. He wasn’t angry, like you expected. Instead, his tone seemed more worried than anything. You managed to look up at the man from your hands, your eyes greeting the sight of his own.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” You heard Dottie yell as she approached your side. The two girls quickly examined your body, nearly shoving John out of the way. 

“I fucked up.” You didn’t even recognize your voice as you spoke— your throat burned. June dotted your bloody forehead with a napkin from Dot’s purse.

“We should get her back home.” Dottie murmured, looking up at John. The dark haired man nodded, agreeing with the woman. June moved out of the way so he could scoop you into his arms. You lay your head onto his chest, faintly hearing the sound of his heartbeat and breathing. The man carried you out of the alley with June and Dottie close behind. You felt the summer sun warm your face as you exited the cool shade of the alleyway. The fresh breeze brought your attention to the cuts on your face, feeling the coolness from the semi-dried blood. Dottie opened the vehicles door and John placed you in the passenger seat, buckling your body firmly in. The two girls hopped into the back, John promising they’d be returned to their car later this evening. You heard the rumble of the engine, and closed your eyes, feeling tiredness numb the pain that ravaged your figure.

——————

“How long have you been employed by the (Y/L/N)’s?” Dottie’s gentle voice quietly echoed throughout your bedroom. Mellow sun rays shone in through the window, casting a warm haze throughout the space. After the incident in the alleyway, John brought you, Dottie, and June back to your parents estate. However, after you all got back, John discovered they'd left on business to Rome for a few days. He carried your figure all the way from the car to your bed, carefully depositing you. Dot and June then got to work, bandaging your wounds, though after you seemed stable and well asleep, they backed off and let you get some rest. Now, John watched as Dottie cared for your sleeping figure. His heart couldn’t help but ache to see you so helpless laying there. Your face had been drained of some of its color, leaving it more pale and sickly. Your hair stuck to your skin, and a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Your bodyguard wanted so badly to climb into the bed with you, stroke your hair from your face, tend to your bandages, hold you, kiss you. 

“Month and a half.” John answered, looking over to the woman. She nodded at his answer, dotting your forehead with a wet washcloth. The woman sat next to your bed with a rag in hand, occasionally cleaning your skin of sweat and dried blood specs. June was asleep on the small couch you had in your bedroom next to one of the windows. John stood on the opposite side of the bed from Dottie, watching her every movement when it came to caring for you. Occasionally your body would stir, but you still hadn’t woken up since the car— four hours ago. 

“Are you liking it?” The vintage dressed woman asked, a smirk crossing her red lips. She cast her eyes between John and your sleeping figure, hinting as to what she was meaning. 

“I am.” He responded. Dottie noticed his softened gaze when he looked towards you. She glanced back down at your face, wiping your skin with the washcloth gently. Your brow bone contained a nasty laceration and your cheekbone held a nice bruise with a cut as well. There was also a gash on your bottom lip, and your left eye held a hefty black bruise. That man really got ahold of you. 

“They're a good family. I know Francesco means well,” Dot murmured, “Speaking of, have you let them know?” John watched as the woman stood up and walked to the bathroom retrieving a fresh bowl of water for your face. 

“I called Francesco shortly after we arrived here.” The dark haired man spoke. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards your figure. He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in your face. His thumb caressed your cheek afterwords, carefully avoiding the wounds that donned your skin. He felt your body stir, and a quiet groan escape your lips as you started to wake up. Dot walked back into the room, noting Johns figure looming over your own. A little smirk crossed her lips as she set the bowl down on the nightstand. You peeked your eyes open for a second, wincing at the brightness of the room. 

“Good afternoon, sleepy.” Dottie smiled, sitting beside your figure again. “Careful.” She murmured, watching as you shifted to sit up a little better. You knew Dottie was next to you, but could feel the weight of somebody on your other side. A large hand quietly placed itself on the side of your arm and you looked to see who it belonged to.

“How do you feel?” John’s words were gently spoken. His fingers squeezed your arm slightly before he released. 

“M-my throat hurts.” Your voice came out scratchy and withered sounding. Dottie quickly placed a cool glass of water into your palms, hers then wrapping around yours before releasing entirely. You gave her the best smile you could manage, due to your cuts, before sipping the drink. John stood up from the bed and made a comment about going to grab pain medicine before he exited your bedroom. 

“I'm going to wake up June.” Dottie spoke, walking over to her sleeping position by the window. You blinked your eyes, feeling the pain from the cuts, and groaned silently. It was stupid of you to think you could take on both of them. Your training with John was going fine, you figured if you at least got one down… No matter, at least you were still alive. The footsteps of your two friends caught your attention as the girls returned to your side. June immediately began to gush over how happy she was you were awake and okay, hugging you tightly. 

“We thought you were a goner.” The girl whispered, worry still evident in her tone. You raised your brows but winced as the sting from the cut became overwhelming. 

“I'm glad John showed up when he did. Like a superhero. He stood there with his gun and you should've seen the animalistic look in his eye.” Dottie sighed dreamily, “You are one lucky girl.” 

“I know about your ‘no dating’ rule, however, I don't think you should let this one get away.” June commented quietly, brushing some hair from your face. Dot agreed, shaking her head vigorously. The three of you cut the conversation short as John's footsteps echoed closer. He entered the room quietly and padded over to the bed, handing you a bottle of painkillers. Your fingers brushed as the container was passed and you felt a longing for the touch to remain; however just as the warmth arrived, it left. 

——————

June and Dottie stayed over for another hour before leaving. They helped you change your clothes and settle in for the night before they left you in the capable hands of John. The two of you remained in your bedroom the rest of the evening. You went in and out of sleep a few times. One time, you woke to the man humming quietly while sitting in bed next to your figure. Another, he was checking your bandages and cleaning the sheen of sweat from your skin. Maybe what June said is right, you can’t let John get away. Nobody has cared for you like he has. But that begged the question, would he even want to be with you? You’re half his age and apart of a mafia family. Plus, you still don't know much about him; his past, his home life, etc. He is a mysterious being, quiet too. It only made you want to know more.

“John?” You murmured, gathering the strength to sit up. It was late evening now, just past eight. The summer sun had just set, leaving a gray tone to cover the space. 

“Yes?” He answered, turning to face you. He had been sitting at your desk, cleaning his gun. 

“Parlami di te.” ‘[Tell me about yourself.]’ The man responded to your request by putting down the parts in his hand. He then quietly cleaned his fingers of grime before standing up and padding over to you, but not sitting. 

“What would you like to know?” He murmured. You studied his face for a moment, taking in the features he donned. His normally combed hair was disheveled now and he had bags under his eyes. He wore a suit and shoes too, obviously still dressed for work. 

“Everything.” You replied, ignoring the throb of pain that coursed through your body. John nodded, then loosened the tie from his around neck. He shed off his suit jacket next, leaving him in a black button up and vest on top. You admired his figure in the darkening room. He stood tall, confident, maybe a little tired, but didn't let it show much. The man settled on the edge of your bed, by your feet. The room remained silent for a few moments; you not daring to speak, and John taking the time to gather his thoughts. 

“I was married.” John’s voice was so soft, you had to lean towards him to hear better. The man kept his gaze towards his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“Was?” You asked, pushing aside the slight feeling of jealousy that rose. 

“She- she passed due to an illness years back.” The bodyguard paused.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” You let out quietly, as to not bother John’s story process. 

“I was retired and wanted to live my days as a widower, however I was dragged back into the business by an old friends’ idiot son.” The man sighed, pushing some fallen hair behind his ear. You caught a glimpse at how sad he appeared, and felt an urge to comfort him. Pain shot through your body as you scooted down the bed until you were close enough to John. You grabbed his hand and his fingers instinctively intertwined with your own, making you realize just how large his palms actually were. It felt right, his hand being wrapped with your own. 

“Ever since then, I haven't left the business again. I see no point. I can't seem to leave anyways, I keep getting dragged back in.” He sighed heavily and you began to rub your thumb along his hand, as your way of comforting him. He fell silent, but you didn't push anymore questions just yet. He was being open and raw, which was probably difficult for the man to do. If he wanted to tell his story, he would. You wanted to know more, obviously, about the kind of work he's done; his jobs, the people he’s met, and if he knew anyone in your family. You wanted to know why the man was so troubled, and why it seemed everybody is against him. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Your voice escaped softly, barely above a whisper. John's hand squeezed your own, before he finally made eye contact with you. His dark gaze caused a chill to slither down your spine.

“Yes.” He spoke softly, “I need to go change.” He gave your hand one last squeeze before removing it and standing up. You watched as his figure walked across your room and disappeared behind the door. It only took him about five minutes before he returned, ready for bed. Sure, it was barely nine, but you figured you could put on a movie. You drank in the sight of him, admiring his pajamas. Blue with plaid stripes, and a plain white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit, nevermind the sweatsuit outfit from when you train. This is different than that, this is a side of John that doesn't say ‘Hey, i'm a killer!’ This side is domestic; make you coffee and toast in the morning domestic. 

“Would you like to watch a movie?” You then asked, watching him tidy up his mess from cleaning his gun, which he didn't finish. 

“Sure.” He responded, walking over and climbing onto the bed next to your figure. You turned on your TV, and picked a movie from a streaming service, before fully settling in. You scoot your body close enough to John’s that you were able to lay your head on his chest. The man wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer, but gently as to not cause you more pain. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowed to a resting rhythm, and then closed your eyes letting sleep overcome your senses.

--

Masterlist

[alphacommander]

Are your bodyguardAU drawings linked to a fanfic as well or is it something that stands on its own?

Stands on its own, no fic for that at the moment :). Man, I still need to do more for that AU too, oops @__@

[keanuvibe]

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: Hi, so I said this was gonna be uploaded tonight or tomorrow, but I wanna upload now so :) happy surprise ig

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: swear words, minor sexual themes 

part one

“Tell me, Mr. Wick,” You began, “What made you leave the assassination business?” 

“Call me John,” He murmured. You two currently found yourselves in your family’s library. You were doing some research for your father, looking to find underground access to a certain building in the city. The room was a big open space. Shelves had been built custom into the wall, almost up to the ceiling, and a large chandelier donned the center of the room. There was also a fireplace with seating around it and a small bar off to the right. It was late afternoon now, causing the sun to cast golden hues through the windows. The honey colored beams illuminated the dark wood interior to be more rich in color.

It’s been two days since Mr. Wick was hired. Since then, he’s moved into your home currently in the room across the hall from your own. Your father originally wanted him to sleep in the servants quarters with your family’s hired help, however your mother argued he should be near you; in case anything was to happen. To be honest, having this stoic man so close to you the past few days was starting to mess with your person a bit. Due to your family’s business, you have never been able to date. You had one night stands, yes, but kept them a secret. Your father made it very clear you were to marry in the Mafia, however, you didn’t want to, so you didn’t make an effort. But John… 

You derailed your thought train and paused from browsing the shelf to look at the man. He stood tall, a good ten inches above your own height, causing a slight feeling of intimidation to cross your nerves. His hands were tucked behind his back while his face held no expression. 

“Okay, John, Why did you leave?” You asked, turning your attention back to the shelf and brushing the feeling off your back. 

“I was retired.” He spoke, his eyes gazing at your busy figure. John couldn't deny, there was something fascinating about you. Normally he’s able to read a person by looking at them he can determine their actions, what they're thinking, their body language-- however with you… he couldn’t. You didn’t scare him though; you were shorter, not as skilled, and young. There was nothing to be frightened of, yet, you were so ominous to him. You never spoke of your personal life, what your plans were, how you were feeling. He doesn’t even know if you have a middle name. But he wants to. 

“What brought you back?” You continued, pulling a book from a shelf and blowing the dust off of it. The grime quickly found its way to the sunbeams, showing off in little glowing specs. 

“Debts.” Was all that came from John’s mouth. Your eyes looked up to his, noticing he’d been watching you. The hair on your arms pricked up slightly at the feeling of intrusion. You took in a quick breath and tried to cover it with a ‘Hmm’; however, you had the feeling John saw right through it. 

“That sounds… unfortunate.” You murmured, turning your attention back to the books. John didn’t reply to your comment; he only cleared his throat and looked away. The two of you remained quiet for a while as you searched for the blueprint of the building. Occasionally you would hear the man shuffle, or take a few steps away to look around. It took you ten minutes before you found the correct blueprint. However, before you could mention it to John, you heard the click of his shoes across the hardwood.

“Beautiful home.” He mumbled, stopping to look at a painting of your family on the wall. You turned your focus to admire the man. He stood at the perfect angle, causing a sunbeam to illuminate him from behind. Your gaze started at his feet, then worked its way up. His shoes were a pair of black leather oxfords, looking recently shined. He donned black suit pants, just tight enough that they clung to his thighs and butt nicely. At his belt there were two guns strapped, and you could see where his shirt was tucked into his pants. He also wore a black vest atop the shirt, with a dark gray tie tucked behind it, and a suit jacket to finish. Your eyes then wandered up to his face, which was still focused on the artwork. You cherished the sharp, yet softness, of his features and how his hair, when in sunlight, shines brown instead of black. 

Without more thought you padded over to him. John sensed your movement and immediately turned his attention towards you. He watched your figure make its way across the library, secretly enjoying the fluid movement of your body. You were wearing loose, light blue jeans with large holes cut into them showing off your legs. a flannel donned your top with a few buttons undone so it draped off your shoulders, then tucked safely into your jeans. John couldn't help but admire the sight of your exposed chest and collar bones-- his mind racing at how many ways he would worship them-- but quickly snapped out of the fantasy by reminding himself you were half his age. And he’s your bodyguard. 

“I found what I was looking for, we can go.” You said, gesturing to the plans in your hand. John nodded, clearing his throat, and led the way to the exit, pulling the way open for you. As you walked through, John’s hand very lightly rest on your lower back. A fire erupt in the pit of your stomach, causing your nerve endings to feel electric. 

——————

Yesterday 

“How’re you adjusting to living with us, John?” You asked the burly man. He gazed down at you, his stride slower to match your shorter one. You and John were currently on your way to one of your father’s ‘businesses’. As part of your duties, he put you in charge of two fronts, both of which were tailor shops. 

“It’s almost been a month, I’m doing fine.” He spoke, his eyes scanning the streets. New Yorkers shuffled passed the two of you as you made your way down the block. The sun shone down, adding a gentle glow and mid-summer heat to the atmosphere.

“I only ask because Molly said you couldn’t find the cereal.” You smirked up at the man. Molly is one of the live in maids, she’s been with your family for three years now. John’s silence caused you to chuckle and focus back on the street ahead.

A motorcycle roar in the distance gathered your attention, causing you to turn your head. A little ways down the street a group of maybe four or five motorcyclists could be seen. You squint your eyes to examine the scene better, noticing they all matched wearing the same matte black helmets and black jackets. Their engines gathered more power as the stoplight turned green, and they began to head in your direction. John quietly put his arm in front of your body, shielding it, before turning his attention towards the group as they gained speed. You saw his arm sink into his suit jacket, knowing he was reaching for his gun. By now the group had caught up with you, roaring passed. You noticed some of them had their arms pointed in the direction of you and John, and it hadn’t occurred to you as to what they were holding until the ricochet of bullets on the building behind you caught your ears. As though you were in slow motion, John covered your body with his own, his back facing the street as you two dove to the ground. The pedestrians around you began to scream, also dropping their bodies for cover. 

The bullets didn’t stop hitting the brick until the group disappeared, turning down the street. In one fluid movement, John removed himself from atop you and pulled his gun from its hiding place aiming in the direction the bikers took off in. When no more action was made, the man cleared his throat and holstered his weapon. The people around you quickly got up and ran off, once realizing it was safe. John gently grabbed your bicep, helping you stand up. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice low. You looked up to meet his gaze, noting the fire in his eyes. You felt your stomach turn- delightfully- at his stare. 

“Y-yeah. They didn’t get me.” You murmured, averting your eyes and dusting your shoulder off. John didn’t waste anymore time, he grabbed your arm once again and began quickly escorting you to the nearby tailor shop.

--

“Fanculo quei bastardi!” ‘[Fuck those bastards!]’ Your father, Francesco, cursed in Italian. Rain poured down heavily hitting the stained-glass windows with such vigor, all other sounds had been drowned out. The dining room was a cold gray shade, coating nearly everything in dull light. You stood next to the window, watching the water pour down the glass warping the shadows outside. Another attempt was made on your life yesterday. You and John were out doing errands when It happened. You managed to finish the day alive, merely shaken up. 

“Santino può succhiare il mio-” ‘[Santino can suck my-]’ 

“Papa, please.” You murmured, turning your attention from the window to your angry father. The room was empty, save for you, Francesco and John. 

“He’s desperate. He wants to run me off so he can have full control of New York.” Francesco muttered, taking a sip from his glass containing dark liquor. Your gaze met John’s, his dark eyes looking up at you through his lashes-- It made your stomach flutter.

“What can we do?” You asked, walking away from the window and over by your father. “Santino already has most of New York, papa.” You poured yourself a glass of the liquor and took a swig, cringing as it burned your throat. Your father cursed some more and slammed his glass down onto the table. 

“Jonathan, take her to her room, per favore.” ‘[Please.]’ His hand swiftly covered his face in frustration before he took a deep breath. John stood from his seat at the table, and made eye contact with you, gesturing to exit the room. You took one last look at your father before leaving the room, beginning the walk to your own. John quietly followed behind, his hand gently placing itself on your lower back-- but only for a mere three seconds.

“They are going to keep me under lock and key.” You spoke with malice, opening up your bedroom door. John closed it behind himself after following you in.

“They’re doing what they have to.” The man replied. His gaze never left your body, watching as you scoffed and muttered some words in Italian. 

“Some days I wish they’d just kill me-- that Santino himself would shoot me point blank.” You groaned, pacing back and forth next to your bed. John left his position by the door and made his way over to you. Your room was bathed in cool daylight, as the rain was still pouring and no sunlight peeked through the clouds. It set a somber mood, not only in yourself, but John could feel it as well. You observed the large man as he strode across the room, a presence about him. He looked handsome today, wearing his signature three piece black suit, and his hair was gelled back. John gently placed his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to sit down onto your bed. You felt your skin tingle where his fingers lingered, causing a chill to caress your spine. 

Over the last month, you’d noticed John wasn’t as much of a hard ass as he likes to give off. In front of company he didn’t smile, speak, or be really-- however, with you it felt as though he made an effort to… feel. Even though the man had begun showing emotion with you, he still hadn't breached the personal life line. In fact you two hadn’t really sat down and talked before. In the time that you’ve known each other, you can only recall three things about the man; his name, weight, and height. And that's only because of his bio. 

The sensation of a body sitting next to your own brought you back to reality. You blinked a few times and turned your head, meeting the gaze of John. His usually dark eyes had softened to a warm caramel-- even in the cool lighting of your bedroom. You’d never seen John look so soft before. A few strands of his gelled hair had fallen in front of his eyes, and you couldn’t help but want to gently remove them.

“I’m going to do everything I can to prevent Santino from getting to you.” John spoke so softly, yet firm, a fire began to spark in your stomach. You bit the inside of your cheek, followed by a slight inhale and parting of your lips, only wanting to accept the fire with open arms. You can’t lie, you’re attracted to John. His piercing gaze and tall, muscular figure, stunned your own; ever since the first moment he walked into your home. However, the man is twice your age. Hell, he’s as old as your own father. Was it weird? To have such an attraction to an older gentleman? John didn’t seem old, the only old thing about him is his age. His hair was still raven dark, his stubble too; maybe a few grays, but those only added to your attraction. The main tell was the soft wrinkles that surrounded his dark eyes. 

“I-I appreciate it.” You whispered, not allowing your voice to gain any volume in fear of it cracking. John let a small smile form before he stood up from your bed, now walking to your bedroom windows to do his usual rounds. Every time you two entered a room, John would check each window for any threats that could be looming outside. Your eyes lingered on his figure as he strode away from you-- his pants tight around his thighs and butt. You loved those specific pants because they were his tightest pair. You felt a throb in your lower abdomen and quickly shook your head, turning to look away from the problem causer. 

“Um, I-I’m gonna go take a bath.” You spoke quietly, standing up from your seat at the bed. John’s eyes observed your person as you glided across the room to the bathroom. He let out a breath he was holding once you exited his view. God. (Y/N). You were driving John mad. His love life is... well, complicated. Ever since the passing of his wife, Helen, the man didn’t feel the need to feel anymore. He’d gotten back into the business after she died only to occupy his mind from thinking. Taking this job was supposed to be a nice break from the heavier situations he normally deals with… however, now he’s starting to feel differently. From the first moment he saw your face, he felt a warmth in his chest. A warmth he hasn't felt since Helen. 

The faucet beginning to run caught John’s attention, derailing his thought train. He glanced out of the window he was next to one more time before quietly making his way across the room and to the bathroom door; which you left slightly ajar. Through the gap, his eyes witnessed your bare back as you bent over-- most likely adding bubble bath or a bath bomb. He felt his stomach gather heat witnessing your stunning exposed skin and his breath caught in his throat. You figure flipped around, revealing your full naked form and John quietly groaned reveling in your glory. He felt his arousal pick up, but just as it happened, he dug his nails into his palm to stop himself from feeling more. He witnessed you climb into the tub, sinking into the bubbles with a glass of wine in your hand, and sighed softly. A quiet nagging in the back of his thoughts kept wishing he was sitting behind you; washing your back, kissing your neck, touching you. 

John shook his head, now feeling voyeuristic, and left his spot by the bathroom door. He could hear your laughter and music gently begin to float out from the crack in the entryway and felt himself smile-- but only allowing a small grin. He was beginning to think he’d enjoy this job a lot more; with the image of your naked form still fresh in his mind.

[kyungpom]

Stay By My Side

pairing: D.O/Baekhyun (top!soo)

author: heartshapedlips @ Yuanfen Fest

length: 17.4k

warnings: attempted sexual assault

Baekhyun didn’t want a bodyguard but Kyungsoo showed up to work anyway. Maybe he doesn’t mind it as much as he thinks.

(read here)

[teenwolfficrec]

Not An Order

by LadyDrace (AO3)

Pairing: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

Oneshot

Word count: 2.3k

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Summary: Prince Stiles of Beacon is about to get engaged to the princess of Reyes. Derek is determined to be supportive. Maybe a little too determined.

Read here!