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harringtonstudios · 5 years

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you’re perfect.

plot: the famous life isn’t for everyone, sometimes the comments can get to you.

A/N: i got distracted while working on a request haha! let me know your feelings :)

reminder: you are all beautiful the way you are, no matter what anyone says. there is inner beauty hiding in corners of your skin, and outer beauty glowing, lighting you up.

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @lovemythsworld @rosegoldrichie

Dating a celebrity came with its own struggles. You’d been with Machine Gun Kelly for almost a year now after meeting him through a mutual friend. It had all been surreal, you’d know this kid since high school and now he was playing guitar on stages with actual rockstars. He’d invited you to a recording session where he had introduced you to Kells.

It had been a rollercoaster after that, flying across the country to go on dates, sitting backstage at rock shows, getting to hang out with this generation’s greatest artists. You two had made it official after six months of the coolest dates you’d ever been on in your life. Honestly, half the time, you’d have preferred to sit on the couch and watching a shitty Netflix special, but you knew this was his lifestyle and you didn’t really mind.

That was until the paparazzi started.There had been nights where both you and Kells had been fucked up, tripping on some kind of drug, trying to walk your way across the path to the Lyft you had ordered as people gathered around you shouting. Other days, you would be enjoying a bagel, laughing at Colson’s dumb jokes when a camera would come straight into your face, asking you about rumors. Once, you both had just left his house when three reporters had stopped you in your tracks, focusing their cameras on you as they started filming. Those days you would feel thrown into the spotlight, awkward in your skin, bees buzzing in your mind.

You had tried to get use to the ugly comments and the nasty posts that came with dating Colson. It was hard at first, trying not to search your name and see what came up. Sometimes you wouldn’t even have to search, people would tag your Instagram in posts, making fun of the way you looked on a certain night or criticizing your features. You didn’t really fit the criteria of being famous, a bit bigger than the models that usually walked around in LA, acne scars dotting your cheeks, frizzy hair usually flying around your head.

In the beginning, it had gotten to you fast. People calling you talentless, spamming your comments with gold digger, theorizing on twitter that your relationship wasn’t real because why would Kells fuck with a girl like that?

It had hurt, left you spiraling, spending days sitting next to Colson in the studio completely numb. You would just sit on the couch, scrolling through comments, trying not to let your insecurities get the best of you. The fans weren’t necessarily wrong, you didn’t have a special talent, you weren’t beautiful by any standards, and you had kinda just showed up out of nowhere.

Sipping on the coffee Colson had bought you this morning, your eyes widened as you stopped at a particular comment. The user had typed it in all caps, screaming through the screen about your weight. It was on a picture Colson had taken of you, sitting in a bathtub, bubbles sitting on top of your head. You read the comment once, twice and then suddenly your phone was being taken out of your hands.

“Baby, I asked if you wanted to go on a walk with me?” Colson repeated, looking down at you while loosely holding your phone in his hands.

“Uhm, yeah,” you mumbled, reaching up to grab it.

“Nope, this is a no-phone walk,” he responded, turning around to put your phone down on the table. As soon as he lifted the screen up to his face, you grimaced knowing he was going to see the comment you’d been looking at for the past five minutes.

“Wait, what the fuck,” he murmured, running his thumb over the screen. “Who the fuck wrote this,” he scoffed, turning back around towards you.

“It’s not important. C’mon let’s go on this walk,” you responded, trying to smile as you got off the couch.

“Nah, we’re not going anywhere till I find out who’s been talking shit about you online,” he said, plopping himself down on the couch.

“Cols, it’s not that serious. I mean it, I don’t even read that shit,” you tried to distract him, extending your hand out to get him back up.

He gave you a look over your phone screen, and you could see the anger brimming in his eyes. You sighed, sitting down next to him. You two weren’t going anywhere soon.

Kicking off your shoes, you pulled your legs under you, shifting to face him. “I just get a couple of mean comments every now and then. People hate on things they can’t have, you know?” you tried to rationalize, watching him scroll through your comments.

“Baby. These aren’t just a few. What the fuck, why didn’t you say anything,” he looked up straight at you, and you looked down at your lap trying to avoid eye contact.

“Cause I mean they’re not wrong,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?” he questioned, leaning down lower to catch your eyes again.

“Nothing, what would have happened if I told you huh? You would have beat up the big, bad bullies? Newsflash, not everyone is going to just fucking love you,” you bit out, voice cracking as you tried to fight through the feeling in your throat. You didn’t want to cry, not here in his studio.

He was quiet for a beat, then two and you bit your lip, knowing you had fucked this up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that,” you mumbled out before continuing, “they’re just internet trolls. I’m really trying not to let it get to me. I’m trying hard, but some people are just mean and I can’t fix that.”

He cleared his throat and then you could feel his arm wrapping around you, pulling you closer. You moved in, shifting so that you were pressed up against his side. Your head rested right around his shoulder, and he softly pulled at your hand. You could see your fingers shaking just a little and you were so tired of letting everything get to you, so you closed your eyes, letting your head fall back. His fingers intertwined with yours and you could feel him rubbing at your knuckles.

“You’re fucking perfect. Everything I’ve ever wanted and needed in my life. There’s nobody else I’d rather be with,” he spoke into your ear.

Your eyes were still closed, but you felt a blush rise on your cheeks as he continued.

“All these flaws they comment on? I love them all. You’re just so real, realer than anyone I’ve met in this city.”

You felt his fingers touch your chin, slightly tilting your face to see his. Opening your eyes, you saw the clarity in his blues.

“I think I love you,” you blurted out, eyes widening when you realized what had just fell out of your mouth. He let out a little laugh, and you could feel yourself turning even more red, burning up.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, squeezing your hips a little, pulling you even closer. He kissed you, hand resting on your warm cheek, stroking his thumb back and forth as you kissed back. The words sat unspoken between you. He wouldn’t say it yet, you knew it, but you could feel something loosely resembling love as he pushed into the kiss, breaking off only to kiss your forehead.

“Why don’t we show these haters something,” he muttered, moving his hips up so that he could get his phone out of his back pocket.

“Ayo, Rook, bring your ass here,” he shouted, and you heard a cymbal crash followed by the studio door opening. You laughed as Rook showed up, beanie skewed on his head.

“Take a coupla picture of us,” Kells instructed, throwing his phone up in the air. Rook caught it and then you were being lifted onto Colson’s lap.

“Hmm?” you whispered, as he placed both his hands on your hips.

“Kiss me,” he responded back, smirking and you smiled. Kissing him softly, you cupped his face in your hands. You could hear the sound of Rook taking pictures in the background and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little as your lips met Colson’s.

“Get a room fuckheads,” Rook shouted before lobbing the phone back your way. It hit the couch and you broke the kiss off, reaching for it. Before you could get it, Colson grabbed it, laughing as he looked at his camera gallery.

“Holy shit, these are GOLD,” he barked out, swiping.

“Lemme see,” you reached out your hand, trying to get a glimpse.

“Nope, you just have to wait,” he winked as he opened up the Instagram app. A part of you tremored with the anxiety of it all, you got enough hate without being publicly posted on his social media, but another part of you was excited, knowing that no matter what you had Colson on your side.

A minute later, he nudged your shoulder with your phone and smiled as you took it off his hands. Going on Instagram, you went to his profile. Laughing, you clicked on the picture he had posted. Your hands were on him, focused on kissing. One of his hands was wrapped around you, while the other flipped the camera off. The caption read, “None of y'all got anything on her.”

You liked the photo before grinning at him. “You’re my knight in shining armor,” you said in a mocking tone, raising your hands to your chest, posing.

“Well then princess, let’s go slay the dragon,” he responded before picking you up.

“Colson, wait, my shoes,” you shouted, laughing as he brought you to the door.

Everyone needed a little reassurance sometimes, and your goofy boyfriend knew exactly how to cheer you up. There was nothing better than this and your heart beamed at the pure love you felt from him. Flaws and all, you had something special here and you had never felt this happy before.

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keanuvibe · 5 years

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Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 6

A/N: Hi! I return with some good old fashion smut :) I love y’all, thank you so much for supporting this fic honestly.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: swears, smut

The burning taste of alcohol scorched your throat as it went down. The buzz of an old box TV sat on a shelf near your seat, but it was drowned out by the bar life that hummed around. You didn't bother to take part in socializing; you weren't planning on staying too long, just enough to get drunk and then leave. You couldn't be too hungover anyways, as the gala is tomorrow evening. You only slipped out because you needed time to yourself before the possibility of being murdered by your cousin tomorrow. You didn't understand why your father couldn't just give Santino what he wants, and not put your life on the line. I mean, you did agree to the situation; they gave you the option to say ‘No’.

The past week has been interesting, to say the least. Firstly, you and John slept together. It was everything you’d hoped, and it definitely wasn't expected. Certainly not back when you first met; his handsome figure sitting so proper in the living room. Often, you find yourself thinking back to when you'd first met. He was so quiet, reserved, seemingly collected. Ruggedly handsome and such a mystery as well. That was back when you saw him in nothing but suits. You've fallen so incredibly hard for this man. Someone who you probably wouldn't have glanced at twice on the street.

Next, the events leading to the gala had begun to cause you anxiety. The possibility of being killed isn't something you want to face. However, your parents are taking heavy precautions. Your mother had you fitted for a dress, tactical in case things went awry.

Tuesday - 3:45 PM

“Look at you! So stunning.” Your mother cooed, spinning you around so she could see the dress you’d put on. The seamstress stood to the side, arms tucked behind her back and measuring tape around her neck.

“And the fabric is-”

“Bulletproof up to close range, knife proof, and waterproof.” The seamstress spoke, cheerfully finishing off the sentence. You looked over to her, nodding quietly before looking back at your reflection. The dress fit well, it resembled a fit and flare with a heart shaped top and slit up to the top of your thigh. The design made it easier to move and access hidden weapons, while also looking classy and sexy. It did accentuate your breasts nicely, and the slit for your thigh showed a delicious amount of skin. The curve of the article gave you a nice hourglass shape as well.

“Aspetta che John ti veda in questo.” [‘Wait for John to see you in this.”] Your mother giggled, sitting back onto a small couch. You blushed a deep rouge, scoffing at her comment.

“What? I know you like him, darling.” She responded to your attitude with a smile, sarcastically rolling her eyes.

“Mom- I-” You began, but stopped yourself as the seamstress undid the zipper, allowing you to slip out of the article. The woman then took the dress into another room, leaving you and your mother alone. You quickly slipped back into your clothes before turning around to face your mom.

“What, baby?” She questioned, sipping a glass full of champagne.

“I have something to tell you.” You murmured, sitting next to the woman. You looked up to your mother and she gazed back at you, blinking her long eyelashes. For as long as you could remember, your mother always had her makeup on. In fact, she's always been put together; even at five in the morning.

“Go on, then.” She waved her hand, encouraging you to continue. Nerves fluttered about your stomach and you shifted in your seat.

“I-” You stuttered, casting your eyes to your lap. “I think I have a crush on him.” Your mother's hand placed itself onto your shoulder as she scoot closer.

“I know, la mia bellezza.” Your mother chuckled. “It was easy to tell after a few months.” [‘My beauty.’] She murmured, softly moving some strands of hair that had fallen in your face. The room was quiet, save for a small radio that played classical piano music.

“I-I don't know what to do.” You paused, “Mom, what if this life isn't for me? I appreciate you let me have the store fronts, but I don’t want them anymore.” You spoke, looking towards the woman. Your mother pushed a glass of champagne into your hand and forced you to sip it.

“I know you don’t want to be apart of this, really. We gave you those fronts to try to keep you around. The fact Santino dragged you further in… We’re sorry.” The woman murmured, looking down to her lap.

“I’m going to stay, and help you. But afterwards… I’m moving out. I found a place further down in the city. John helped me find it, actually.” You spoke, a little excitement added to your voice. Your mother looked back up, a small grin crossing her lips. She nodded, leaning in and kissing the top of your head softly.

“I support you. Your father might be harder to convince, however.” The woman answered, setting her glass down.

Right. You nearly forgot you told your mom about liking John, and confessing the want to leave. You already put a deposit down anyways. With your father’s money, you can afford to live on your own. He'd put enough away in a savings account, starting when you were just a baby.

John helped you find the place too, searching the old fashion way; through ads in the paper.

“This one has a lot of natural light.” John held these newspaper for you to see. You grabbed the sheet from his hand and studied the small black and white photos.

“How can you even see that?” You squint, prompting John to chuckle.

“It says it in the description, little one.” He humored, a cheeky grin crossing his face. You blushed, chuckling to play off your embarrassment.

“There’s plenty of closet space. I could keep a few things there.” He spoke, standing up and adjusting his position to hover over your shoulder. You felt butterflies soar through your stomach at the comment and nodded furiously.

“Yes, please do.”

On top of all the other stuff, your father gifted you new weaponry; A pistol set with an ankle strap, and a new set of knives. It felt nice that he cared, but you've never actually been apart of one of your fathers missions before. Sure, you've done some dirty work and left a few bodies behind; however, this mission is different. More dangerous, on top of being risky.

The scrape of a bar stool next to your own echoed throughout the space, but you didn't bother to glance at the person. The bartender was quick to take their order before the figure cleared their throat.

“This is the bar we were first introduced. Our fathers had a meeting here.” Santino’s voice chilled you to the bone and you froze, stuck staring into your drink. You heard the light of a match as he lit a cigarette and took a puff, smoke blowing directly into your face.

“You remember, no?” He then asked. You finally looked up, greeting his smug expression.

“I do.” You answered, taking a large swing of your whiskey. “Why are you here, Santino?” You finished.

“May we not speak like civilized humans? We are famiglia after all.” ‘[Family.]’ He answered cooly, taking a puff from his cigarette. You rolled your eyes, gesturing to the bartender for another refill.

“You think no more of us than you do an ant on the street. We are not family; We are merely, devastatingly, blood related.” You spat, facing your cousin fully. He seemed a bit taken aback by your outburst, but quickly shook it off with a laugh and a sip of his own drink. You two fell into silence as you turned back towards your drink. You swirled the dark liquor around before gulping down the liquid.

“Where's your boy, hm? No play toy tonight?” The man asked after a few moments. You knew he was talking about John. “Do your parents know about your activities?” Anger bubbled deeply in your chest. How did he know that in the first place? You two were very strict about no affection until behind closed doors.

“I stepped out without him.” You tried to keep the rage under control, taking another hefty sip from your drink. Santino clicked his tongue at your answer.

“Shame, I’d love to meet the guy whose been killing all my men.” Your cousin murmured. You furrowed your brows, confusion lacing your brain.

“We've only had a few instances with your fools, what do you mean?” You asked, looking back towards the man. He looked at you, realization crossing his features. A short laugh escaped his mouth.

“You don't know?” He grinned mischievously.

“Tell me.” You demanded, your hand balling into a fist. The obvious amusement radiated off your cousin from your situation. What the hell could he be talking about, and why has John been ‘killing all his men’?

“Your… boyfriend, has been sneaking out at night, cousin. Into my warehouses, slaying the men in his way. I know he's seeking me. John Wick could never touch me.” Santino’s last comment was snarky, cold, and spoken with a deep seeded hatred. You felt shock cross your body upon learning new information. Why hadn't he told you? He could've been killed and you would've never known. Drunk words were to be had when you get home.

“Well. That sounds like a problem for you.” You responded. Though you were upset at John for keeping this a secret, you were grateful he'd put such a large dent into Santino’s resources. Your cousin scoffed, finishing off his drink and setting the glass back onto the bar. He threw a twenty dollar bill next to the cup before turning to face you. You watched carefully as he placed his ring-clad hand over your shoulder, leaning closer to your face.

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N).” He spoke lowly. His hand pat your shoulder a few times before he removed it and exit the bar. Though you didn't look at his face when he’d spoken, the sinister feelings behind it stuck with you; even after he’d already left.

Stumbling through your bedroom door, your fingers searched the wall before finding the switch and flipping on the light. You groaned at the brightness, too drunk to be dealing with it. You felt a little dizzy from the dark liquor you'd drank, but managed to walk to your bed, sitting on the edge. With a little effort, you began tugging at the zipper on your dress in an attempt to remove the article. Going to bars used to be fun, you could carelessly get wasted and sleep with some random guy. Now you couldn't leave the house with fears of being killed.

Stripping off the dress, you sighed, laying back onto your bed and shutting your eyes. A quiet knock on your door triggered a low groan to escape your lips as you sat up, wobbling your way over to the door and tugging it open. Your drunk eyes met the sight of John. He looked down at your figure and raised his brows as the scent of alcohol hit his nostrils.

“Sneaking off on me again?” He questioned, pushing your figure back into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. You stumbled back from his minimal force, and whined at him.

“Don't p-push me.” You drunkenly spoke, folding your arms in frustration. “You're the one in trouble h-here! Mr. I’ve Been Sneaking Out To Kill Santino’s Men.

“That's a long name.” John deadpanned. His eyes scanned down your body, causing you to remember you'd stripped off the clothing you had on.

“Don't change the topic.” You walked past him to get to the bed, bumping his arm on your way. He quickly reached out, grasping your bicep and pulling you up to his chest. You tried your best to let the drunkenness fill you with courage as his dark eyes stared you down. You'd never seen John look at you like this before; angry.

“I am protecting you.” He whispered lowly and through his teeth, “I’m doing what I have to, to keep you safe.” His eyes traveled down your nearly naked body; goosebumps covered your skin as he did so. You felt like prey to an animal, like a delicious looking gazelle to a lion; a ferocious, dark haired lion.

“What're you staring at?” You slurred, furrowing your brows. The grip he had on your arm shifted pressures as his mouth collided with your own. The man let go, instead grabbing under your ass and picking you up. He swiftly turned around, tossing you onto the bed with force. You studied his face as he slowly approached your weakened figure, noting how dark his eyes had gotten. You'd made John so mad, he was no longer John. You'd caused John Wick to emerge.

“Don't move.” He spoke deeply. The sound of his belt buckle echoed throughout the quiet room and John whipped the slim article from his pant loops with a Crack!. The man set the belt into your bed, grabbing your ankles afterwards and pulling your body to the edge of the bed roughly. A little whine escaped your throat as he grabbed your wrists, holding them together above your head before tying the belt around them.

“You want to act bratty? Like you're the boss?” He questioned, raising his brow and spreading your thighs roughly, “Let me remind you who’s in charge.” John finished. He placed his thumb over your still clothed clit with a firm pressure, rubbing slowly. A moan left your lips and you squirmed your hips at the sensation. His free hand came down quickly, grasping your hip tightly and holding it down so you couldn't move.

“No moving.” He murmured, running his finger along your panty line. The feeling tickled, but you tried your best not to move in fear of his punishment. He hummed in appreciation, gently pushing your underwear to expose your core. He let out a soft groan at the sight, running his pointer finger up your slit, gathering the wetness up. You let out a pathetic whimper as he tapped your clit on the exit.

“So gorgeous.” John praised, running his hand along the curve of your waist. You felt a blush crawl up your cheeks and turned your face to the side to hide it.

“Look at me.” He commanded, his fingers grasping your chin and moving your head. The man studied your expression. He saw the lust hazing your eyes, the alcohol too. There was another emotion hiding behind the other two; fear. It made him smirk knowing he was back in charge and he stood straight again, beginning to loosen his tie. You watched as he took the item off and approached your figure. He leaned down, placing the tie over your eyes and quickly knotting it.

“Can you see?” He asked. You could tell by his voice that he'd moved back to the end of the bed. You shook your head ‘No’ as a response. Johns footsteps padded faintly and you hear him shuffling around before his large hand grasped your ankle. It caused you to jump, not being able to tell when he was going to touch.

“I won't hurt you.” He murmured, fingertips dragging up your leg. You shuddered at the sensation, your senses heightened at the loss of your sight. Johns fingers shocked you once again, hooking into the hem of your panties and pulling them down. The cool air hit your hot core and you shivered at the temperature shock.

“I missed you.” He whispered, leaning down. His face sat close to your heat and he gently kissed the skin of your inner thigh. You felt his scratchy facial hair scrape the delicate skin near your pussy. The hotness of his breath coated your clit, and just as he was about to give you what you wanted-

“Please!” You blurted, squirming your hip. The silence was deafening, however John finally spoke up.

“I told you not to move.” You felt chills expose your skin at his comment. The man was swift to move away from your core. He grabbed you and flipped you over so you lay on your stomach instead of your back. His fingertips dragged along the length of your leg, starting at your achilles and ending at the curve of your ass. He gently grasped the flesh, squeezing it before a swift Slap! stang soft skin. You released a short cry at the sensation, whimpering afterwards as the man's hand gently massaged the skin he’d just assaulted. A second slap came down moments after, prompting you to cry out again. The overwhelming sting from the sharp slap tingled across your ass and you let out a defeated whimper.

John’s large hands ran along your back, meeting the clasp for you bra. In a single swift movement the man had undone the article. The sensation of little kisses littered your back as he made a clear pattern down to your ass. His beard scraped the still raw skin, but the little pain it brought felt good.

“Are you ready to behave?” He then asked. You nodded, vision still blocked by his tie. You could hear as he moved around again before he gently flipped you back over, pulling you to the edge. The quiet noise of his zipper echoed the quiet room, followed by the drop of an article of clothing. John’s calloused hands found themselves wrapping around your ankles, holding your legs up in the air. The gentle, yet excited, breaths that left his throat sounded throughout the room and you let out a quiet whine.

“I know baby.” John answered to your plea. He reached his hand down, rubbing your exposed clit with a firm pressure. He gathered your wetness onto his fingers before giving himself a few pumps using the slick. An excited knot formed in your belly at the sensation of his rubbing, prompting you moan softly. His fingers left your clit but were replaced by the tip of his cock, caressing the bundle of nerves. Wishing you could see his face, you huffed from frustration. Your arms were still tied together above your head with the belt, and your vision still blocked by the tie. Seeing John’s pleasure only added to your own.

In a single swift thrust, John had fully entered your heat. A cry left your throat at a loud volume, the satisfaction of finally being filled overwhelming your senses. The man started moving slowly, allowing you time to adjust to his large size. Pleasure coursed through your veins, and despite the man's rule, you began to move your hips with his. He removed his hands from around your ankles, resting your legs over his shoulders, before moving them down. He ripped your bra off, hand quick to grasp onto the flesh and fingers eagerly playing with your nipple. More waves of pleasure navigated your figure, the familiar warm feeling beginning to grow in your lower belly.

Keeping his rhythm, John leaned forward and connected his lips with your breast, littering hickies across the soft, fleshy skin. Moans echoed the room, you being too drunk to care about keeping them under control. His thumb expertly rubbed your clit, only added to the fire within your belly. His mouth connected with your nipple, only doubling the pleasure you were feeling. John adjusted the position of his hips slightly, causing the head of his cock to rub against your g-spot.

“Oh- Oh- I’m going to cum,” You breathed, the pit in your belly close to exploding. John took your words as a challenge thrusting harder. With a cry, your orgasm erupted throughout your body. Your finger and toe tips tingled as your muscles repeatedly flexed and relaxed. John let you ride out your orgasm, thrusting deeply before he too finished. His large body slumped onto your own, both of you breathing heavily. The man took a few moments before he lazily untied your hands and blindfold.

“Whoa.” You spoke as soon as he took the fold off. He smirked, leaning on one elbow so he could face you.

“So, are you going to obey now?” He questioned, finger running up your body and between your breasts. You nodded swiftly, biting your lip. Although, once in a while you’ll have to misbehave. You two laid there quietly for about ten minutes before getting dressed in pajamas. Once clothed, you returned to your bed, both of you climbing in. Most of the time John stays until you are asleep. Then, not to raise suspicion, he returns to his bedroom across the hall. It was the only way you got away with ‘sleeping together’. John still didn’t know that your mom knows about some things. Thankfully, your father still doesn’t. You didn’t know when to break the news; speaking of bad news. Santino. The bar.

“John?” You questioned, turning to face him. He currently laid on his back, a book in hand.

“Yes?” He answered, pausing his reading to look at you. He studied his handsome face, before speaking up.

“The bar I was at- Santino showed up. We- We spoke.” The words faintly floated from your lips. John sat up, his focus picking up on you. “You’ve been leaving at night, taking out certain camps with Santino’s men?” It was spoken like a statement, but lingered as a question.

“Yes. I have.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact. Even though he was the one in trouble, his gaze made you feel like you were the scolded child.

“W-Why didn’t you tell me?” You huffed, “I could’ve helped.”

“(Y/N), stop.” He spoke, but more commanded. You held your mouth open, but no words escaped. “I did it because I can’t see you getting hurt. You’re-” He paused, “You’re clumsy.”

Your cheeks flamed a hot pink at his words, embarrassment coursing through your veins. So, maybe you were a little… clumsy when it came to combat. You allowed yourself to get hurt by only two men in the alley- who you could’ve easily taken in your glory days. You’ve allowed your guard to lower, and so has your skills. You’d just stopped caring about it all; Up until John showed up.

“Okay. I-I appreciate it.” Your voice floated out in a whisper after a few moments of silence. He nodded, returning to his previous position and continuing on with reading. You stared at him for a few more seconds, sighing before giving up and laying down.

“What else did he say?” John questioned. You shrugged, your thoughts rummaging through your memories of the conversation.

“Where's your boy, hm? No play toy tonight?”

“Your… boyfriend,”

“John Wick could never touch me.”

“He’s definitely threatened of you.” You spoke. It sounds like something a man trying to cover up his cowering confidence would say. John nodded; a little smirk growing on the corner of his lips. You got to admit, it was a little sexy to see him turned on by fear. But, there was also the fact Santino knew about your relationship with John; he could tell your father.

——————

The next day came and flew by, the evening presenting itself faster than you would've liked. Now, here you stood in your bedroom, mother zipping up the gown from the seamstress’s shop. You studied yourself in the mirror; your hair had been styled in a low bun out of your face and perfect for combat. Your makeup was elegant however, you donned a smokey eye with black and brown shadows, as well as a dramatic set of false eyelashes. The dress your mother finished zipping made your breasts look perfect, and it showed off your body nicely; as well as the slit up to the thigh.

“You look stunning.” Your mother smiled. You just now noticed she’d been staring at you through the mirror too. You gave her a sad smile before turning your attention away and towards putting on shoes. Tonight was the gala... Tonight, there is a good chance you’re going to die. Anxiety hadn’t left your gut all day, however knowing John was to be at your side gave you a little security.

“Where is John?” You asked, turning around and looking at your mother. She blinked at your sudden question before answering.

“He’s just outside the door, waiting. We’ve got to leave in five minutes.” She spoke, pushing your purse into your hands. You nodded, swiftly gathering the rest of the things you'd need. You made sure your weapons were secure in their strapped on spots. The ankle strap was hidden by the long length of the dress, and the thigh strap was hidden on the inside of the slit. Taking one last deep breath, you exhaled loudly and stepped towards the door, opening it with determination. John looked at you as you exit the room, a little smile he was trying to contain covering his face.

“I’m ready.” You spoke, a hint of faux confidence covering the words. John nodded, leading you out of the home and towards the car. Your family would be taking separate cars to the event, for safety and get away reasons. It was just easier this way. John guided you into one of the vehicles, following in afterwards himself. He gestured for the driver to go, then hit the button to raise the divider. His other hand creeped onto your exposed thigh slit, and you bit your lip at the sensation of his calloused fingers gliding across smooth skin.

“How are you feeling?” John asked quietly. You took the moment to admire how stunning he looked as well. He had gelled back his hair, and combed his beard. He also wore one of his all black three pieces.

“Nervous.” You spoke, your eyes returning to his face. He nodded, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own. You sighed into the kiss, some nerves beginning to calm down. He broke the kiss first, the hand that had been resting on your thigh giving it a squeeze.

“I’ll be beside you all night. I’m not going anywhere.” John’s words felt like a warm blanket, and you leaned into his side, wrapping your arms around his one. The man's head rest on top of your own, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. The comfort didn’t last long however, as the car began to slow down, eventually coming to a stop. Your gaze moved to the window, noticing the large building that the gala was hosted in. Herds of people were standing outside, shuffling in and out of the building. Many reporters were also outside, taking pictures of famous people in attendance. John untangled your bodies and climbed out first, opening the door for you. You took a deep breath, gathering your purse and making sure your straps were secured before sliding out yourself. John held out his arm for you to wrap your own around; which you accepted.

“Are you ready, baby?” He spoke softly. You nodded, letting your bodyguard take the lead.

---

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