wandering-gambler

[wandering-gambler]

Respite

Pairing: husband!assassin!John Wick x GN!Reader. Tags: Angst, Fluff, SMUT, domestic relationship Warnings: NSFW, blood, m!receiving handjob Word count: 2,0k

When he walked through the door, battered but alive, you felt a rush of relief.

"You're back, my love," you said softly, approaching him and meeting his weary gaze. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the aroma of sweat, filling your nostrils. He just nodded, his tired eyes holding a spark of relief at seeing you. John's face was marked with several fresh cuts, and his hair, matted with blood, sweat, and dirt, clung to his forehead in messy strands. Your fingers instinctively brushed them gently away from his forehead. Over the years, seeing him beaten and exhausted after another 'job' had become a familiar sight.

Yet, despite the countless times you had seen him like this, a pang of worry tugged at your heart each time. You could never fully detach from the concern that was up inside you. His suit jacket was dirty, torn in several places. You lifted a piece of fabric hanging from the sleeve of it with your index finger, examining it with a mock-serious expression.

"Guess it's time to toss it?" 

He responded with a faint smile and a nod of agreement. John's swollen and bloodied fingers, stiff with pain, undid the button of his jacket. With a sharp exhale and a hiss through gritted teeth, he slipped off it, tossing it onto the bed beside him. Panic widened your eyes as scarlet bloodstains spread across his white shirt. Without hesitation, your hands swiftly moved to unbutton his shirt.

"John, let me take a look." 

As your fingers trembled slightly in haste, bracing for what you might find underneath, John placed his large, warm hand over yours, meeting your worried eyes with a steady gaze. 

"Don't worry, мой ангел [my angel]," he murmured, gently squeezing your hand, "The blood isn't mine."

Relief flooded through you at his words, and you took a deep exhale to steady your nerves. With renewed determination, you continued unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers moving methodically, one by one, down the line of buttons. But still you couldn't shake off the worry because he might downplay his condition. Feeling his gaze upon you, you paused and looked up, locking onto his eyes. You could see the pain, yet there was also a glimmer of gratitude and love.

"Rough day, huh?" You asked.

"You could say that. The same old grind."

"Well, whatever happened, you made it back in one piece. That's what truly matters, right?"

John chuckled tiredly, "Yeah."

His hands found yours as they traveled from your shoulders down to your palms. As your fingers deftly undid the last button, John brought your hands to his lips, planting a tender kiss on each palm of yours. Even though he frequently pressed his lips to your hands,  this tender gesture never lost its magic, your heart still fluttered, melting anew with each loving touch.

You slipped out of his hands and helped him take off his shirt, prompting a slight hiss of discomfort as the fabric peeled away from his skin.

"Where does it hurt?" Your eyes quickly scanned his body, searching for the source of his pain. And then you saw it — a large bruise on his side, dark and vivid.

Without hesitation your fingers tracing the edges of the bruise with careful precision, ensuring it was nothing serious.

"There's nothing to worry about." 

"You always say that," you murmured, "But it doesn't mean I worry any less."

You gently cupped his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your skin, "Take a shower first, and I'll fill the bath."

Both of you entered the dimly lit bathroom. John removed his remaining clothes and stepped into the rushing torrent. Meanwhile, you turned on the faucet, filling the tub with soothing water and arranging candles around the room. Their soft glow cast dancing shadows on the walls, transforming the bathroom into a sanctuary of warmth. The delicate scent of lavender and patchouli wafted through the air, adding to the sense of relaxation.

As John slipped into the water, a soft ripple with the hushed exhale of an exhausted man filled the room momentarily. The warmth embraced him like a soothing cocoon, easing into his weary muscles. John closed his eyes, allowing the warmth to seep into his bones as you watched over him with concern.  Before you, he lies battered, with bruises and wounds, his eyes closed, yet his trembling eyelids betrayed the lingering tension. In that moment, all you longed for was to ease his pain, if only for a moment. You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, hoping to impart some measure of peace.

You took out a first-aid kit with antiseptic and wiped the wounds on his face, which was still bleeding slightly. John didn't bat an eye. You were always amazed at how high his pain threshold was. 

Treating the wounds in complete silence, the seed of anxiety that had nestled in your chest all these years began to sprout and take root in your soul. The anguish gnawed at you, seeing him like this tore at your heart. His job seemed to drain the very life from him, not even mentioning your constant fear of his death. You longed to beg him to leave it all behind, to live a life free from the relentless danger. If you could have just pleaded with him to retire, it would bring you both peace and well-being. But as you gazed upon him, you knew the futility of those words, aware they might even start to irritate him.

The man you married was bound by loyalty to the Tarasov Mob, unable to escape his responsibilities. Attempting to stifle your plea, you focused on the task at hand, but it was too late, the words slipped from your lips, "Maybe one day you can leave all this behind..."

He threw a piercing glance, but after a moment, his expression softened.

"Maybe... but for now, this is my life. You knew that when you married me."

Of course, you knew. Back then, you believed you could accept the brutal reality of his existence, but with each passing day, it became harder to bear. The weight of his work crushed your heart, and the thought of a future with no violence felt like an unreachable dream.

You nodded, understanding yet aching.

Prepared to depart and give him his space, you felt a delicate tug on your hand. His tired, dark brown eyes silently begged you to stay. Yielding to his plea, you settled down at the corner of the bathtub, bringing a subtle smile to his lips.

Your gaze traced over his form, drinking in the sight of his body. The water in the bathtub lay still, with small wisps of blood mingling in its crystal depths. In the gentle light of the candles around the room, every contour of John's form was revealed, his silhouette bathed in a warm, golden hue. Your gaze shifted to his face, etched with exhaustion. His chest raised and fell with each steady breath. Then, your eyes trailed downward, tracing the path of old scars that scattered from his chest, down his stomach, disappearing beneath the surface of the water. Capturing every detail of his body, you followed the line of hair starting at his navel and gradually thickening as it descended to his groin. This path of hair guided your attention inexorably to where his soft manhood rested peacefully amidst the curls.

Your hand slipped beneath the water, fingers gliding down his abdomen until you cupped his manhood delicately.

At your touch, John flinched slightly, his body tensing in surprise. His breath hitched, a hint of uncertainty crossing his features as if unsure of how to respond. Yet, as your caress lingered, the tension in him began to melt away, replaced by a sense of surrender. Yielding to the gesture, he couldn't resist the pleasure it offered. Starting with light, teasing strokes, your fingertips barely grazed his skin, creating a tantalizing sensation that made his muscles quiver. Your fingers glided smoothly over his velvet skin, brushing against his cock, which responded eagerly to your touch. Then, you wrapped your hand around him more firmly and applied gentle pressure as you moved up and down in a slow, rhythmic motion. A soft hum escaped John's lips with each stroke. Gradually, his cock stirred from its tranquil state, awakening to the warmth of your tender hand. As your hand twisted along its length, you felt him swell, engorged with the rush of blood and subtle twitches of need. His hardness grew in your hand, transforming into a smooth shaft that felt as silky as satin under the warm water.

The slight curve of his erection and the gentle throb beneath your touch sent your heart racing. His length and girth fit perfectly in your hand, feeling natural in your grasp. As your thumb circled the sensitive head, John responded with a sharp intake of breath. The thin skin slid along his shaft with your movements, gliding up and down in a smooth, fluid rhythm. Each stroke revealed his rosy swollen tip, half-hidden beneath the delicate foreskin, only to be fully exposed again. The water rippled with your movements as John gazed at you with half-lidded eyes, heavy with desire. The room filled with the sound of sloshing water and his needy moans. 

His big hand, once clenched around the edges of the tub, now gently rested on your upper thigh. John's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling as you quickened the pace, your hand twisting along his cock to keep him on edge. His moans became louder, echoing through the room. His body trembled slightly as hips instinctively thrusted in sync with your hand, enjoying each movement. The sound of his hoarse moans, accompanied by the lapping of water against the sides of the tub, was soothing to you. John threw his head back, his moans escalating into deep, throaty groans. You could sense him edging closer to release. The muscles at the base of his thick cock contracted more frequently, and his balls drew closer to his body. 

"I got you, babe," you whispered. John's eyes squeezed shut, and with a guttural growl, he came undone, raw and powerful. His entire body shuddered with the release he so desperately needed. The engorged head of his cock throbbed, spurting cum in thick, urgent streams under the water. His strong fingers gripped your thigh tightly, almost bruising, as he rode out the overwhelming pleasure, yet you didn't mind. Continuing to stroke him, you sent waves of shivers through his body. 

Finally, his grip on your thigh loosened, the white liquid mingling slowly with the water. As the waves of his orgasm subsided, his body went limp, surrendering to the soothing embrace of the warm water. The room fell into a tranquil silence. Meeting his clouded gaze, eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and deep satisfaction, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead.

"John?" 

"Yeah?"

"Just... be careful. I can't bear to lose you." 

He cupped your cheek with his hand.

"You won't lose me. I'll always come back to you, мой ангел [my angel]."

A/N: If you're not satisfied with how the reader cared for John in this one-shot, I recommend you read this fanfic (it was meant as a one-shot) where the reader truly tends to his wounds.

divider by /chilumitos  pics: Pinterest

[wandering-gambler]

Break

Summary: her ex comes knocking on her door late at night, she can’t help but teach him a lesson smut 18+ only

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: very rough sex with the woman being the dominant personality. Hard slapping but he is… John Wick 😳, overstim and degradation

A/N: I am a huge advocate that John likes to be controlled during sex. I think he can be commanding and rougher but it isn’t his go to. #subjohnforever ❤️ like my last one this is again, written in 3rd person no description or name is used so I’m calling it an x reader 😁 I think I like this style…

The woman sat on her couch watching the cooking network, feeling ready for bed. She yawned as on the program the countdown showed the contestants had ten seconds left before they had to present their dishes. A laugh almost escaped her at the polar opposite situations her and the chefs were in. She was lazing it up on the couch as they worked as fast as they could.

Right as the countdown hit zero, she heard a knock on her door. She lifted her phone up to see the time and felt her eyebrow raise. It was late, almost twelve am, who could possibly be at her door? Deciding to ignore it, the knocking continued. After a few seconds of this person practically beating on her door she groaned and stood up. While she was annoyed she was glad the show went to commercial.

“Alright! I’m fucking coming!” She yelled out making her way to the door.

Probably a dumb decision, she didn’t even think to look out her peephole and just opened the door.

“What?” She asked before even seeing who it was and when she did, her annoyance grew. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Outside her door was her ex boyfriend, John. He had flowers in his hand and his hair was damp from the rain. She stared up at him and crossed her arms, tapping her foot as she awaited a response.

“I wanted to see you.” John replied smoothly.

They had dated for three years before his work got in the way of everything. She was in the business as well but got more time off since she was only a bartender. Her ex, being way more infamous and basically a soldier on the battlefield, was practically always gone. It made her mad that he seemed to never have enough time for her. She gave him multiple chances to change things and make more time for her, but nothing different ever happened.

“Oh? Really? That’s a shock.” Her tone was flat.

John had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Yeah.” He replied, ignoring her little shot.

She let a laugh of disbelief leave her lips before simply attempting to shut the door in his face. Instead she was met with his hand coming up to stop her. He called her name in a tone that sounded almost desperate and for a second she couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter. The woman had tried to turn off all her feelings for the man. She channeled all of the anger she felt and used it to replace all the good and happy feelings, even the sad ones as well.

Love was replaced with hatred.

“What do you want, John?” She asked. “Hurry, I have to see if Jason or Todd wins the cooking competition.”

John wanted to chuckle as she was always obsessed with the cooking channel but the moment was too serious.

“Can I please come in?”

After about a few seconds she groaned out and invited him in. With her back towards him she continued complaining about his presence.

“Well, since you’re here I have a box of your shit in my room you need to grab.” Although it was almost over she groaned realizing she’d never get to see who won and turned the TV off and turned back to face him. “Besides that, what are you doing here at twelve am?”

John sighed but reached out his arm, attempting to hand her the flowers. They were her favorite and she couldn’t help but soften a little bit at the peace offering gift. She grabbed them and thanked him before placing them delicately on the coffee table and crossing her arms again. She’d put them in a vase later.

“Are you going to speak?” She tried to keep up her indifferent attitude even though the flowers had done a good job defrosting her.

John opened his mouth and closed it. He looked like he was thinking hard about what he wanted to say. Although the entire walk here he had planned on what to say he was left speechless standing in front of her, staring at her. She was ethereal. Even at twelve am while she looked ready for bed. He just wanted to hug her… kiss her… snuggle with her.

“I’ve…” John started slowly, “I’ve had a few days off and been thinking about you.”

“So you need a few days off to remember me?” She questioned and he sighed.

“No. I think about you all the time.”

At this the woman rolled her eyes.

“Well you obviously like whatever version of me you think about since you probably spend more time with her than the actual me.”

John called her name in a stern and frustrated tone which pissed her off.

“I didn’t think we were apart that often. I thought I had found a good balance."

She let out a loud humorless bark of a laugh.

“A 30/70 ratio is a good balance to you? John I would see you twice a month sometimes between our two schedules and I definitely am not the one overworking myself. Hell I bet Charon got to see you more than I did just based on how many times you checked in and out of a room.”

The man went to defend himself, to say that he didn’t see it that way when she cut him off.

“No. You know what your problem is John? You act like you’re the only person in the world.” She spit out at him lifting a finger to point at him. “Yes you are kind and respectful to everyone but at the end of the day you only do what you want against the pleas and advice of others. One day that’s going to get you into worse trouble than just a woman breaking up with you.”

John looked sullen at her words and warning but something about the way she was verbally attacking him was doing something to him. Something that was not the right time. Her anger was justified but he’d been craving her and she always got so sexy when she was passionate about anything. Whether it was something she loved or something she hated. He wanted her so badly.

Her finger was still pointing at John when she couldn’t help but notice him trying to subtly place his hands in front of his anatomy. The finger slowly fell back down to her side as she took in what she was seeing. He was hard. She couldn’t help but feel a little pang of pleasure between her thighs. Her head tilted as her tongue came out to wet her suddenly dry lips. He could feel his face heat up as she stared directly at his crotch.

“I’m sorry.” He started but she cut him off.

“Take your pants off.” She demanded.

John looked at her bewildered as if she spoke in a rare language he had never heard or learned.

“What?”

“I said, take. your. pants. off. now. Or get out of my apartment.” She gave him the ultimatum.

John felt conflicted as he believed the smart decision would be to leave, let her cool down and try again in a few days but his body seemed to make the decision for him. His hands went to his belt buckle and he started to take it off. She smirked and crossed her arms. Throwing his belt onto the couch he then undid the button and zipper, pulling his pants down and kicking them off. He looked up at her.

“Boxers as well.”

For a moment, John looked apprehensive. The woman had never been what some might call submissive in bed but this was very authoritative. He wondered what she was trying to do. The thought that she was attempting to humiliate him for breaking her heart by having him expose himself before her and then telling him to leave right after crossed his mind. Yet there was almost something playful in her eyes.

She raised her eyebrow at John and motioned for him to hurry up. He finally hooked his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down and off. She let out a whistle as she stared at his hard appendage. No matter how mad she was at him she couldn’t help but appreciate the art in front of her. He was the biggest man she had ever been with but honestly his size didn’t even compare to his skill, it was just a plus.

She walked up to John but kept herself at least a foot away. Her hand came up and the tips of her fingers just stroked his stomach, causing it and his dick to twitch.

“Good boy.” She cooed in a condescending manner. “Now touch yourself for me.”

John almost groaned and wanted to argue back but the pet name had done something to him. Before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around his penis and he began to pump himself up and down. A moan left his mouth and one moment he was looking at her and next thing he knew he heard a loud clap, his cheek stung badly, and he was staring at the wall.

She had slapped him across the face. Hard. He let out a growl and her hand came up to rub his bearded cheek.

“It seems like you need someone to teach you how to behave, Jardani.” She chastised. “It’s rude to show up to a ladies house late at night and then get turned on by her being rightfully angry.”

Although John’s hand didn’t stop, he whined at the intimacy of her using his birth name. He opened his mouth to apologize when the hand rubbing his cheek opened and she smacked him again.

“Don’t speak.”

John nodded his head in compliance and he moaned as his hand started to speed up. He wanted to push her down, rip her clothes off and bury himself into her, pounding her into her couch cushions. Anything to feel her vagina snug around him. He even almost wanted to beg, something he had never done before but he wasn’t sure if she wanted that. Instead his hips started bucking as he got close to his orgasm.

“You can cum when you’re ready.” She stated while cupping her hand around the tip to catch his seed and he once again nodded his head up and down.

Being so pent up it didn’t take long for John to let out a low and long moan, ejaculating into her hand. As he grew more sensitive his hand started to slow down but the woman smacked his hand away and replaced it with her own, jerking him off fast and hard. His breathing picked up and he tried to say something when she smacked him across the face again. Then with her free hand she shoved her fingers into his mouth.

The obscene sounds of her sperm covered hand squeezing and rubbing John’s erection made him whine out. His noises were usually low grunts and maybe a decent volume moan but right now he sounded almost like he was in heaven as he whimpered while he sucked on her fingers. He was breathing in deeply through his nose, trying to keep his composure.

John almost wanted to rip her hand away as every stroke felt somewhat painful but oh so good at the same time. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was rough, to the point it really did almost hurt, like she really didn’t care. Still, he could feel another orgasm coming on fast and let himself just be consumed by the pleasure. He felt like it would still take a bit because he just came but she began to speak.

“Cum.” She commanded and he furrowed his eyebrows.

Still sucking on her fingers he tried to protest that he couldn’t when she shoved her fingers deeper into his mouth causing him to gag. He glared at her but she just gave him a sinister smile.

“Be good. Cum for me.”

John closed his eyes and really, really focused on the movement of her hand. Putting his entire attention on the actions it actually did start to feel super good. He began to moan around her fingers and thrust his hips into her hand. His eyes opened and all he could see was white as he came again, the force being almost blinding. She once more pushed her fingers far back towards his throat but this time he didn’t gag, he just groaned for a long time.

Her hand was covered in his spunk.

“What a beautiful sight.” She smiled at him.

The hand on John’s penis started to slow down and she eventually let go and wiped his cum on her pants. He was extremely sensitive at this point, he was breathing heavily when she pushed him back onto the couch. Dropping her own pants and underwear, she straddled him. Biting her bottom lip she grabbed his swollen member and sat down upon it. She didn’t even give him time to adjust as she began to ride him like no tomorrow. He let out a strangled yell and threw his head back, his hips bucking up and his back arching off of the couch.

Desperate, needy whines and choked moans left John as he couldn’t help but continue thrusting his hips up into her. He was so sensitive, so so sensitive as he had never been overstimulated like this. She couldn’t help but laugh at him, letting out a groan herself at the sight. His pupils were dark and large. At this point he didn’t even know if he could cum again but being inside her felt fucking fantastic.

Her hands held onto John’s shoulders, nails digging into the skin through his shirt. Once again he was caught off guard by her taking one of her hands, winding back and smacking him across the face. Instead of just once this time she did it twice in a row. The first time he growled but the second he let out a whimper. It stung and hurt and he felt weird because he liked it. He didn’t just like it… he loved it.

“You fucking like that, John?” She asked with a laugh.

John felt almost drunk as he nodded automatically. Suddenly all shame and all the natural parts of himself that told him nobody could ever dominate him disappeared and his brain screamed at him to just submit. She bounced up and down on him and then slowed down to swivel her hips in a way that spelled out her own name. His hands moved from squeezing the couch cushions to grabbing her hips and helping her move.

She looked at John’s blissed out face and noticed, just peaking out from underneath his facial hair, red and swollen skin forming. In a random act of kindness and the first one all night, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. She could feel the hairs of his beard brush up against her soft lips. Placing one and then two she stopped her hips completely, continuing to trail kisses up the side of his face to his ear where she licked and bit onto his earlobe.

Although John tried to thrust his hips she brought her hands down to push him against the couch so he couldn’t move. She could hear his soft and breathy moans as she assaulted his skin with her mouth. Finally she pulled her teeth away from his ear and placed her lips right against it, he shivered at the feeling of her hot breath.

“You’ve been a good boy John. You’re so sexy looking so pathetic underneath me…” She couldn’t help but groan. “I know you wanna pick me up, throw me onto my back and fuck the daylights out of me. So why not do it?”

The woman let out a yelp as she was quickly and unexpectedly lifted into the air before being thrown onto her back on the couch. Then John was right back inside of her, the sound of skin smacking was loud as he fucked her fast and hard, his balls slapping her ass. Loud and untamed moans escaped him and he shoved his face between her clothed breasts, mumbling thank you, thank you… over and over. One of his arms came to hook around the back of her neck so he could hug her close.

John seemed almost frantic as his hips couldn’t keep a solid rhythm. She almost wanted to laugh. What had she done to this highly feared man? She fucking broke him. His free hand went to rub her clit. Seeing him fall apart, and be so loud alongside the much needed friction on her bundle of nerves caused her orgasm to finally wash over her. Her entire body attempted to contort off the couch as she came but she was squished by his whole body and unrelenting hips.

She cried out, embedding her nails into John’s back so hard she thought she’d rip his shirt. He could feel her constricting and pulsing around him, making him hiss through his teeth. Finally he did what he had wanted to do all night but was unsure of. He completely let go of any and all control that he still had left and begged her.

“I’ve been a good boy for my goddess, yes?” He choked out in his native language. “I’ll worship you forever, please let me cum.”

John was still pumping into her like a beast, prolonging her orgasm.

“Yes Jardani, cum for your goddess.” She sobbed out, having her arms wrapped around him and holding onto his back for dear life.

As soon as the words left her mouth he thrusted a couple more times before pulling out and jerking himself off feverishly. His hips buckled forward like he was still penetrating her and trying to get as deep as he could before he came and then a high pitched noise left his throat. She could really only call it a noise because she had never heard him make a sound like that. Was it a groan? Moan? Whimper? Cry? Sob?

Whatever it was, it left her mesmerized.

Barely any jizz came out of the tip of John’s dick, basically having a dry orgasm with only two drops dripping onto her thigh. He was sweaty, breathing heavily and his hair was a mess, almost covering his entire face. She watched as a strong shiver hit him and he shook uncontrollably. His hips still rocked back and forth but he didn’t touch himself anymore. Pushing herself up on her hands she went to grab his extremely sensitive penis.

John’s hand came to grab her wrist and he said no when she smacked his wrist away.

“Too sensitive. Please.” He pleaded in between gulps of air.

The woman chuckled at the man and told him to calm down before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss right onto the mushroom tip. She allowed herself to flop down onto her back on the couch and opened her arms. He didn’t waste one second before laying on top of her, wrapping his arms around her as she embraced him. One of her hands rubbed his back while the other played with his hair. He couldn’t help but run his face against her neck and breasts.

They laid in silence for a moment.

“I miss you.” John said out of the blue.

She couldn’t help but feel tears well up in her eyes. The sadness she had tried to hide with anger finally escaping its box deep within her mind and forcing her to feel it. She sniffled and hugged his body closer to hers.

“I miss you too.” She admitted.

John placed a kiss between her clothed breasts and then leaned his face up to claim her lips in a kiss with his. She threaded her fingers through his hair and deepened the kiss, letting her tongue slowly swirl around his. The two of them consumed each other until they couldn’t breathe anymore and pulled away. She stared at his face and felt her heart drop. Her hand left his hair and caressed his cheek.

“Oh my God, Jardani, I think I left a small bruise.” He could hear the guilt within her voice.

“If it was too much I would've made you stop.” He said simply, trying to ease her remorse.

It was unsaid but she knew John also wanted to say that he had been shot, stabbed, broken bones… anything anyone could think of. A slap was nothing to him, even if it did hurt. He went back to laying his head on her chest as she stared at the ceiling slightly scared at her own vicious and careless actions. She was angry, but she didn’t actually want to beat him and it seemed like she got carried away.

“I’m not doing that again.” She said while shaking her head.

Still not looking up at her he replied,

“Even if I liked it?”

“Okay you little masochist.” She scoffed and he chuckled against her breast. “Fine. Not nearly as hard though.”

The two of them once again fell back into a comfortable silence and she debated on asking John to spend the night. He was obviously whooped and exhausted. She also felt like it would be a bit cold hearted to ask him to get dressed and get out of her apartment after having pretty rough sex with him. Plus at this point she believed he was already falling asleep against her chest.

Her hands continued to play with the strains of John’s long hair. She was deep in thought. She’d never been with a man as perfect and amazing as John Wick. He was very attentive and loving. She didn’t want to lose this man but nothing in the world was truly perfect even if she believed it to be and he had his faults. Her body ached for him when he was gone. She felt like she spent more time at work than he did with her.

Sadly John line of work also left those prolonged times without contact filled with worry, anxiety and fear. What if he was seriously injured? What if he was dead? She didn’t want to think about his cold and lonely body laying on the floor of some building. She also didn’t want to get a call from him where he basically said goodbye. All of that was hard but it was even worse when he was doing it all of the time.

It may end in hurt tomorrow but she had to ask.

“Do… you want to stay the night?” She broke the silence.

“Yeah.” He replied.

The woman nodded her head.

“I’m willing to give you another chance but John, you need to promise me you will make more time for me. We can talk about it more tomorrow but… this is your final chance.” She warned him.

John craned his neck up once more and looked at her with his brown puppy dog eyes.

“I promise.”

She smiled at him and gave him one more peck on the lips before he returned to his respected place between her breasts. After a while of her playing with his hair she eventually yawned herself and closed her eyes. The two of them passed out, falling into a deep sleep half dressed on the couch, snuggled up close with one another. It felt right. It felt just.

The very last thought on the woman’s mind as she fell asleep was whether or not Jason or Todd won the cooking competition.

[wandering-gambler]

Loins on Fire

John Wick x Reader smut

Summary: You and John have some fun in your hotel room.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: smut 18+ only

A/N: this was originally written as a sex scene between my OC Vera and John but I felt kind enough to make it an x reader for you gals. I love John so muchhchdhshdhahdjsjdja anyways enjoy

You sat in one of the many rooms at The Continental, on the bed in only boxers, behind your husband John. He had just answered his phone that wouldn’t stop ringing, interrupting your fun. You let out a huff only loud enough for him to hear. Your chin came to rest on his shoulder blade so you could hear who was on the phone. It was some annoying man that he was working for.

“I think I need to hire you for another job. Can we talk a price?”

“Sure.” He responded.

Your hand came up and you whacked John on his bare bicep. He needed to get off that phone now. The two of you were busy. You removed your chin from its resting spot as they began to talk business and stared at his back. His tattoos were something you loved. You leaned forward to kiss every point of the cross on his main back tattoo.

John tensed but then immediately melted into your touch. Whoever was on the other end of the phone would be none the wiser as to what was happening in that moment. You trailed your lips up his smooth back leaving wet kisses all over until you arrived back at his shoulder. Your teeth embedded into his skin as you bit into the muscle.

You could see John shake his head in disbelief as his free hand came up to push you off of him. As if that would stop you. With a chuckle you got up higher on your knees so you were towering over him since he was sitting on his ass with his feet on the floor. You wrapped your arms around his midsection and nuzzled his neck before licking all the way up to his ear lobe.

John tried to arch his body away from you but you were hugging him. His free hand came down to rest on your arms, showing that he didn’t really want you to go away. You nibbled on his earlobe before shoving your tongue in his ear. His body shuddered against yours and he pulled his phone away from his ear.

“Knock it off.” John reprimanded you.

“Get off the phone. I want to fuck you.” You whispered.

John’s head turned slowly to look you in your eyes. At first he looked like he was done with your shit then he smirked at you. You were being very aggressive right now and messing with him but he was John Wick. Did you really think you could win that easily? You stared him dead in the eyes before he brought his phone to his ear.

“John? Are you there?” The muffled voice started yapping in his ears again.

“Yeah.” This guy was giving him a headache.

If that man was here John thinks he’d kill him. First of all he was offering way too low. He gave him his price. This man was just cheap. Then he takes his attention away from you. You gave him a betrayed look and he turned his head back so he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was still in your arms and he felt you try to pull away. His hand came down to hold your wrists to his stomach, silently telling you not to move.

This guy needed to hurry up or he was about to say no deal.

“Price is firm.”

You were stuck against John as his grip strength was stronger than yours. It loosened when he thought you wouldn’t slither away. You freed one of your arms from his weakened hold. Your hand spread out at the base of his neck before you pushed it upwards. Your fingers threaded into his hair as you gathered it all up into your grasp. He was about to raise his eyebrow when you yanked.

This time John grunted and you smirked. You felt yourself grow more wet. He always liked it when you were rough with him. You brought your lips to his neck and sucked a hickey onto his pulse point there. His lip twitched and you knew he wanted to moan. You pulled his hair again and let your other hand travel to rub him through his pants.

“My vagina is more important than that phone call, Jonathan.” You purred into his ear and shoved your hand under his waistband, cupping his balls, “come play with my kitty.”

“Shit. You’re insane.” John leaned back into your touch as you fondled him.

“You have five seconds to get off that phone or I’m going to go touch myself in the bathroom.” Your tone was threatening.

Not caring what the man had to say, John pressed the end call button and threw his phone across the room. You rewarded him by stroking his cock a couple times before you dug your short nails into his soft stomach. It flexed involuntarily and he turned his head to look at you. The dark gleam in your eye was new and made his cock twitch.

You leaned forward and claimed John’s lips with your own. One of his hands came to hold the back of your head. Your tongues exploring one another. You moaned and brought your hand back down to play with the tip of his penis. He bucked up into your touch as your thumb massaged the head. Every so often you would stop, let your hand wander, and let your nails dig into the flesh of his ass cheek.

You gave him a firm smack and he grunted once again. It’s not that he didn’t like it, you just had never done that before. Your hand rubbed the spot it had hit and then returned to his cock.

“You’re in trouble. I hope you know that.” You chastised him.

“What?” He asked you, confused.

“You made me wait. I don’t like waiting, John.” Your eyes narrowed at him but all you wanted to do was kiss him again.

John chuckled and, like he could read your mind, kissed you deep and gentle. You smiled against his lips and he pulled back.

“I’m sorry, beautiful.” He was always too sweet.

Too bad you were about as sour as a lemon. John hissed as you began to jerk him hard and fast. Your husband stared you down as his breathing got faster, it felt too good. When he believed you wouldn’t stop he started to moan. His orgasm was close. Just as he thought he was about to cum you stopped and removed your hand from his boxers.

“Jerk yourself off, I’m tired now.”

John’s hand replaced yours,

immediately disappearing into his boxers. His hand worked fast as you smirked at him.

“Fuck.” He moaned and you did as well.

The sight in front of you was almost enough to make you fuck him right then and there. What took you by surprise though, was him getting up. His cock was very hard, you could tell by the prominent bulge hidden away by the thin fabric. Instead he pushed you down so you were laying and removed your own underwear.

“Let me make it up to you.” He whispered in your ear before kissing your neck.

John’s tongue came to lick the skin before he trailed kisses all the way down your navel where he blew gentle raspberries. You laughed and bucked up pushing his head down lower and because it tickled. After what felt like forever, his lips found your clit.

You let out a long drawn out moan.

No man had ever made you come from oral sex but John. He was skilled and perfect at it. The way he would suck, lick and rub your sensitive nub was enough to have you seeing stars. He chuckled around you and the vibrations tickled you all over. His arm came to hold your hips down as one of his hands went towards your pussy to finger you.

You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled. John whimpered, causing you to rub yourself against his face. He stopped moving his neck and flattened his tongue letting you take control of his mouth as he continued to pump two of his digits in and out of you. Your hips moved like crazy as you humped his face. The noises leaving your throat were loud and driving him insane. He wished the two of you were at home so he didn’t have to worry about Charon calling the room.

Meanwhile you weren’t even thinking as you could feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm right around the corner. You felt John’s tongue moving down and his beard lightly scratching the soft skin of your thighs. His fingers pulled out of you moving to rub your clit in small fast circles. Without warning, you felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening before he started fucking you with the wet muscle.

It was wet. So wet. The feeling made you squeeze your thighs together, trapping John in between. Your noises were starting to get louder and he knew you were close. His arm came down and pushed your legs open, giving him more room. As soon as his tongue left you as he pulled back, his fingers were right back inside you.

“You gonna come on my tongue pretty woman?” John asked in his husky voice.

Whatever you said was unintelligible as you whined out something along the lines of,

Yes.

And

So close.

John twisted his wrist and started making a come hither motion while looking up at you. Your legs were starting to shake and John chuckled before wrapping his lips around your clit again. The hand holding your thighs apart started to snake its way up your body before resting on your stomach where he stroked the skin with his thumb.

With one more hard suck, your body exploded with pleasure as your orgasm all but ripped through you. The long, drawn out, loud moan that sounded almost more like a yell filled the hotel room. Before you knew it John’s hand snuck up and covered your mouth, muffling the sound. He let out an almost amazed laugh and pulled his mouth away from your aching clit but allowed his fingers to leave you and rub it lightly.

“You know I love your noises sweetheart, but we don’t want another noise complaint, do we?” John smiled at you.

You couldn’t keep your hips still as they jerked all over. He laughed as you tried to say something but it was muffled by his palm. One of your hands came up and grabbed his wrist, pulling it away. You let out softer, more quiet moans, still trying to catch your breath, before licking your lips and looking deep into his brown eyes.

“Maybe if you tongue fucked them like you did me, they’d be a bit more sympathetic to my situation.” You purred, trying to reach down and rub his large erection through his boxers.

At this John let out a huff of air that sounded in between a scoff and a laugh at your vulgar words but you felt his dick twitch. He removed his fingers from your clit, moving up a bit more on the bed to give you more room to stroke him. Short grunts were leaving him. His fingers trailed from your stomach to your breasts where he played with your nipples. He pinched the sensitive buds and when he was done he finally trailed his digits to your lips.

The tip of John’s middle and ring finger ran back and forth against your soft lips before he pushed them against, silently asking you to open your mouth. You did and immediately wrapped your tongue around his fingers, tasting yourself on his skin. He couldn’t help but buck his hips against your hand and groan at the sight. Being as careful as he could he began to pump them in and out of your mouth.

You moaned around his fingers before bringing the hand that was rubbing him up and pushing past the waistband to his boxers. The minute your hand felt the smooth and soft skin of his cock he let out a hiss. It was rock hard and warm to the touch. You could tell your husband was using a lot of self restraint. He was probably dying to shoot his load and come.

While still sucking on his fingers you allowed your hand to begin pumping up and down on the shaft of his cock. Suddenly you felt a desire to have him in your mouth. You rarely ever performed oral on him but in that moment it felt like your mouth almost started salivating at the thought of giving him a blow job.

Your free hand came up and grabbed John’s wrist, stopping his fingers. You pulled back, slowly removing them from your mouth without breaking eye contact and propped yourself up.

“Take your boxers off and lay on the bed.” You ordered and the man wasted no time doing what was told.

After changing positions and getting comfortable you finally got to see John’s cock, hard and erect just for you. It curved towards him, the head almost laid against the lower half of his stomach and looked bigger than usual. Either the lighting in the room was playing tricks on you or he was so pent up and swollen that he was bigger.

You bit your bottom lip before bringing one of your hands up to play with John’s balls and letting the fingers on your other hand pet the tip and shaft. His stomach was moving up and down with every deep breath he took. He wondered what you were doing but he also didn’t really care because it felt good and you looked like you were having fun.

Suddenly your slow movements completely stopped and you brought your hand to your mouth, spitting into the palm. As soon as the glob was in your hand you brought it to John’s cock and began jerking him off fast with a firm grip. His back almost arched off the bed at the unexpected pace and action, a deep groan leaving his vocal cords. You finally broke your eyes away from his anatomy to look at his face.

John looked like he was experiencing great pleasure but also like he was concentrating on not coming right then and there.

“Your cock is so beautiful, Jardani.” You cooed at him.

Your husband muttered something in his native language before thrusting his hips to help you. Both of his hands were gripping onto the sheets of the bed so tightly, you half wondered if he was about to rip them. His eyes had been trained on you, filled with so much lust and desire, it felt almost too intense to stare at him but finally his eyes closed as his head hit the pillow.

Knowing John couldn’t see you, you took the opportunity to lean forward and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. His head snapped back up as he looked down to see you sucking on the head, tonguing the slit while staring up at him. A strangled moan came from his lips and he tried, with all his might, to keep his hips glued to the bed. After playing around with the tip for a few moments, you took his whole cock into your mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down you sucked and swallowed John whole. One of your hands came to rub the rest of his shaft where you couldn’t fit him in. The excess saliva in your mouth dribbled down your chin, down his shaft and onto his balls where you took your free hand and fondled them. Although they were not nearly as loud as yours, full wanton sounds were blessing your ears.

“Fuck YN.” John said through gritted teeth. “‘M gonna cum.”

Your husband tried to warn you, knowing that he rarely, if ever, came in your mouth. You pulled your mouth off of him and dragged your tongue from his balls all the way to the tip before giving the tip one harder suction while jerking him even faster and harder. Now he really couldn’t help but thrust his hips as his sounds grew more desperate and high pitched.

A strangled moan left him as he brought his hands up to your head, attempting to pull you off but you kept your head and mouth where it was. Then you felt his cock pulse as he came, filling your mouth with his seed. It was salty and you moaned while swallowing and kept sucking. His hands shook as he brought them up to caress the sides of your face.

You took every last drop and continued to swirl your tongue around the tip. Waiting till he was so sensitive his body jumped with every movement of your tongue, you eventually pulled off of him.

Both of you were out of breath and you smirked at him.

“I could keep going…” You said.

John looked at you like you were insane before sitting up, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up towards him, claiming your lips with a kiss. Your arms went around his neck as his tongue explored your mouth. It was almost like he was trying to taste any last remaining drop of himself. The two of you sat there like that just making out and being totally consumed by each other.

When John pulled his face away from yours he began to nuzzle his bearded face against your breasts.

“Too sensitive for anything else.” He murmured, leaving small kisses in between each nudge.

Your hand came down to gather the hair around his face and push it back so you could look straight into his eyes.

“Tapping out already?” You mocked in a joking manner.

“Mhm.” He said.

You laughed and hugged him close to you, feeling his arms squeeze you in return. The love you had for this man was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. You never felt closer to him than after making love with him. If you had the choice, you’d never leave this moment. The two of you would usually just cuddle and talk for hours after if you didn’t fall asleep.

Sadly it didn’t last long.

As if something in the universe could tell you both didn’t want to be bothered, the hotel room phone began to ring. John let out a groan and pulled his face away from its sanctuary against your chest.

“I guess you weren’t quiet enough.” He smirked at you.

“Just me?” You said with a feigned offendedness. “You were pretty loud too.”

Definitely not as loud as you but you couldn't help but call him out on his noise level since it was rare for him to be that vocal. John nudged you off of him lightly and shook his head while smiling, almost looking shy. He got up and grabbed your chin, tilting your head up.

“I love people knowing I can make you feel good.” He said before leaning down and kissing your lips. “But this never gets less embarrassing.”

You couldn’t help but let out a full belly laugh when John’s phone started ringing on the floor halfway across the room. Your laugh stopped as your heart dropped. Now it was his turn to laugh.

“I gotta get that. Guess you deal with Charon tonight.”

“I’m telling him it wasn’t us this time!” You called out, a bit louder than you meant to and sounding extremely defensive.

Then you grumbled something along the lines of how it technically wasn’t your fault you were so loud.

John laughed again. His face hurt from smiling so hard as he turned to go grab his cellphone. Only you would ever see him like this.

You groaned out in humiliation and reached over to grab the phone before bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?” You croaked, your voice definitely a little more hoarse from recent activities but you hoped it sounded like you just woke up.

“I apologize for calling so late in the night but I have received a number of grievances from your floor, many claim it’s coming from your room.” The familiar deep and proper voice spoke through the phone, making you wonder if you could even ever show your face around the hotel again.

“I’m not sure what anyone is talking about.”

You and Charon got along great. You loved the guy. Being way more extroverted than John, you would talk his ear off while you were checking in or out. Being the concierge of the hotel, you’d run into him many times. Alone and with your husband. Sober and drunk. Happy, depressed, miserable… Plus since he was close with John, you had even shared a few drinks with the man.

Your relationship with Charon was different from his and John’s. Where the two men held strong honor for one another they weren’t nearly as playful as the two of you were with each other and, man, did he have a killer sense of humor. Your husband would’ve just owned up and admitted it before apologizing, but you couldn’t. The embarrassment would eat you alive.

You watched as John looked out the window with his back to you, almost flexing as he had one hand in his hip and one holding the phone to his ear. His back tattoos were on display, just for you. You felt like your heart skipped a beat as you stared at his physique. Although you were embarrassed… you craved him again.

Was this the price you had to pay for having such an amazing lover?

You heard a chuckle.

“Are you positive?” He inquired and you could just tell he was about to mess with you due to the fact he pushed the issue, your hopes that he’d dropped it were squashed by his next statement “Because some of the descriptions I received were quite concerning.”

At this you propped yourself up on your arm and furrowed your eyebrows, even John looked over at your sudden movement.

“Descriptions?” You asked incredulously, “What the hell did people hear?”

Your husband officially turned to look at you, hanging up on whoever called him. He was way more entertained and interested in whatever you and the concierge were discussing.

“Enough for me to call and ensure everything is alright.”

Maybe you would never have sex with John in the hotel ever again.

“I…” You trailed off wanting to just end the phone call. “We fell asleep watching a movie. I guess we just had the volume up really loud. I apologize that you’ve received so many complaints. I’ll turn it down.”

“I understand, a common mistake. I accept your apology. Please remember next time you watch a movie with Mr. Wick you remember to be considerate of the guests around you and keep the volume low.” You could hear the smile on Charon’s face and it didn’t help that John was also cheesing it up on the other side of the room. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, Mrs.”

“You too Charon. Have a goodnight.” You said so fast you wondered if he understood you and promptly hung up the phone.

Your husband laughed. Hard. You looked at him and glared.

“What’s so funny, John?”

“I’m sorry. Why in the world did you do that to yourself?” John asked in between laughs. “You should’ve just said nothing and apologized.”

He was right. That’s what he would’ve done and that would’ve been the end of it. Your attempt to lie and not just own up to it backfired and made everything even more humiliating.

“It’s easy for you to admit! You have a reason to be proud. Why didn’t you tell me I sound so stupid?” You asked.

John stopped laughing and walked over to the bed looking way more serious but you could still see the playfulness in his eyes. He grabbed your hand and started placing kisses from the tips of your fingers to your palm, up your wrist… all the way up your arm till he got to your shoulder and pulled you against him.

“Don’t insult my wife.” He warned. “Her sounds are like music to my ears.“

At this you rolled your eyes but laid your head against him. John was always so charismatic and sappy with you. That was one of the reasons you fell in love with him. The fact that he had mastered the art of the female orgasm and was tall, strong and sexy as fuck were just bonuses. You tilted your head up to look at him, suddenly hit with the feeling of adoration at the fact that only you could ever see him like this.

Only you completely knew the real man behind the mystery.

Put husband John in another body and nobody would believe it was the Baba Yaga. Traits shined through still as he wasn’t acting, he really was that honorable and polite but it was a gift to be able to see him so laid back, comfortable and trusting. You felt special and you were. The complete and utter devotion the two of you had for one another would suffocate most.

Looking in his eyes, you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face.

“I love you, Jardani.” You whispered.

“I love you too YN, more than anything.” John responded before leaning down to kiss you.

As the kiss grew more heated and both of your guys hands started to wander, you grabbed both sides of his face and pushed him away.

“We really shouldn’t, just to be courteous but I don’t even care anymore. Let’s go slow. I can be more quiet when we go slow.” You offered, scratching his beard with your nails. “Next time we stay here we will just compensate everyone on the floor into silence. Sound like a plan?”

John chuckled and just shook his head.

“Yeah. Good plan.”

[wandering-gambler]

Pov: You're trying to write a report in your dorm at the akademiya while Wanderer hides underneath your desk and uses your body to explore female anatomy for the first time.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Your face is extremely flushed as you feel gloves hands spread your thighs. You make yourself continue to write though. After all, you have to turn this paper in tomorrow morning or risk a failing score for the semester.

Your pen nearly falls from your hand.

Wanderer slowly presses one of his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. You feel him moving it around. Trying to explore your most sacred place. He finally finds a spot that feels different and rubs his finger against it. Forcing a tiny whimper from your lips as you steel yourself away from the wonderful feeling and try to refocus.

But Wanderer had heard you.

He softly rubbed that spot again and pressed his finger upwards just a little and you felt your legs instinctively buckle for him then.

"Your body is responding nicely. So wet... and hot...How does it feel knowing someone like me is touching you so intimately?" Wanderer teases as he adds a second finger. His other hand spreading your legs even wider.

"Ah~ Please keep going ~ I love this!" you moan sluttily. Still attempting to pick up your pen.

Wanderer slows his pace a little. Fingering you even deeper as you feel your clit begin to ache for attention too.

You try to wiggle in your seat a little and get his attention but he doesn't catch on. So you get desperate and use your cutest and most pleading tone as you beg him to play with your clitty a bit.

"Wanderer~ There's another spot that feels good too. It's a small nub just above where my pee comes out. Can you please touch me there? I want you to play with my clit too~"

Wanderer slowly withdraws his fingers from you without question or hesitation. Carefully using his thumbs to spread your pussy lips open for him as he studied your tight little hole, his eyes spotting the little bundle of nerves easily.

He gently pressed his fingertip against it and smirked ever so slightly as he heard you whine and felt you wiggle in your seat once again. He rubbed your clit slowly then. Up and down first before realizing that a circular motion was better and continuing with that as you moaned loudly.

"You like that, don't you? The way I tease your little clit? It's so sensitive, isn't it? So swollen and big. It pulses when I touch it too..." He keeps teasing it until finally you feel yourself tightening up. Your body getting closer to finishing as Wanderer kept playing with your little nub yet stuffed two fingers into your aching hole again just to see if he could make you make any other adorable sounds.

"You're close aren't you? You're so delicate. Less than five minutes and you're already about to cum. Go ahead then. Cum." In an instant Wanderer's mouth is suddenly on your clit. Licking the tiny ball of swollen flesh as he plunged his fingers deeper into you and alternated between sucking and licking you.

"Wanderer! Y-Your tongue ~ Please oh please! I'm gonna cum! Oh god I'm cumming!" You scream as you try to close your thighs only for him to force them apart again.

Wanderer doesn't stop. And within seconds you feel your relief wash over you. Your pussy squirting as Wanderer continues to lap at your cunt even as you fill his mouth. Not seeming to care that your very essence now dripped from his chin and coated the front of his shirt as he hummed against your cunt lips and swallowed your juices almost greedily.

You fall back into your chair. Chest heaving as Wanderer began to lick you clean and remained between your thighs. You were lost in a euphoric daze. Not even realizing you had dropped your pen until you looked down and saw it on the floor beside your chair.

Your report!

Fuck. Maybe you could afford to fail a semester. At most you would have to retake a few classes...

Which meant you could see Wanderer more right?

Yeah.

That sounded worth it.

[wandering-gambler]

Moments with John Wick II

》 Pairing: Loving!John Wick x Reader

》 Warnings: pet names, gross misconduct of lovey doviness

》 Word Count: 1.3k+

Part 1

Note: I've been overthinking about these snippets for too long, so here I go, I release them! 🤭 Enjoy! Apologies for any error in tense use, spelling, grammar etc. Credit to @toastray for the cute dividers!

It was hard at first, getting to know him better. You could feel the heaviness of his grief all around him. It was in everything he looked at and everything he touched, lingering in doorways after he'd walk through. He knew you could see it. It was all in your eyes and how you interacted with him during moments the sadness gathered in his throat.

“I'm okay,” he says, “I promise.” You put your hand on his cheek and nod.

"I know."

He doesn't know what it is with your touch, but it unravels that monstrous grief with ease. You watch him close his eyes briefly and bring your palm to his lips, letting out a sigh, followed by a kiss.

“You save me.” It's genuine, and every part of you knows it's true. There's been a lingering doubt with others, but never with him. When John tells you this, time and time again, it makes you feel lighter and warm.

“What do you think?” You're leafing through a pamphlet for a train vacation. It's not something you would have expected John would like. In fact, you were the one more inclined to do something like this.

“When are you thinking?” He lets out a sigh of relief, happy that you're interested at least. He's waiting for you to spot the destination on the trip he circled, the one he knows you've always wanted to go on. John pauses, waits a moment and then sees your eyes glow.

You look up at him, “Is that the one we're going on?” He nods. “Like, we're actually going, for real?” You watch as he laughs, head tipped back and adam's apple moving slightly. It warms you up just as a nice cup of hot chocolate always does.

“What about work?” John shakes his head, knowing you'd ask.

“I can work anywhere, but I'm taking a full break for the trip. I don't want to miss a moment with you.” He watches your eyes flutter, your breathing change. For a second he's worried he said the wrong thing. He worries about that all the time, but when you pull him into a tight hug, arms around his middle, he feels that pull of the string. The way it snaps straight from the center of his chest to yours and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Thank you, John. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me, beautiful.”

A phone call comes through in the middle of the night. It startles you awake and you feel John put his arm over you. He knows when your nervousness or anxiety is heightened more than usual. It didn't take long for him to notice your mannerisms when you're under stress while you've been together. These things were part of his work and work has had some ways of bleeding through. Whether it was through his clothes or in the ways he could keep you safe, it bleeds through.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, voice laced in sleep. You rub at his arm as he pats your stomach a couple times before he sits up. Your eyes are adjusted to the dark as you sit up with him, watching his hand sift through his hair. He hates these moments. Similar conversations come to mind, blurred and racing as the quiet around you both becomes deafening.

“A job. I have to go.” 

“Oh.”

“I know.” 

He hates these moments. He hates the way your sleep is interrupted and the sadness so easily conveyed in the ‘oh’s’, ‘right now?’, ‘when will you be home?’ gnaws at him. 

“I'll have to be on a plane soon.” You nod, quiet, rubbing at your arm. Self soothing. John turns over to look at you and it doesn't get any easier for him when he sees that shimmer of tears gloss your eyes.

“Come here, sweetheart.” You take a deep breath to brace yourself and get out of bed to go to his side. He leans back slightly as you stand between his legs, both hands on either side of his face. His eyes close. You know he loves when you do this. It calms the both of you down in a way and any chance to touch him is a chance you'll grab at greedily.

“How long will this one take?” 

“Not long. A couple of days.” You kiss his forehead as he pulls you in closer. When he rests his head on your chest, he can hear your heartbeat. It's a little fast, but it's comforting. It's a song to him, the melody striking and forceful always swallowing him up. As he pulls back, he looks up at you and wipes at the rest of the tears you seem to have messily swept away.

“How about you come with me?” 

“Is that allowed?” You're genuinely surprised since he's never asked. John tells you very little about these things, hoping that sparing you details will keep you safe.

“I'm allowing it.” A rush of heat goes to your cheeks and he smiles when that twinkle is back in your eyes.

“May I kiss you?” He pulls you both into bed so you're lying down again.

“I'll allow that too.” You laugh, and he kisses you.

You slam the back door behind you and walk purposefully to the shed. It's a crisp and foggy evening. You've left John in the house somewhere, calling after you.

“Fucker,” you say under your breath, exasperated. He knows you hate big gatherings being popped up on you. While it's exhilarating being at his side at events, it also comes with your own anxieties about being seen. Apart from that, you've already made plans with close friends that you hadn't seen in a long time and it makes you angry that he's forgotten again.

“I'm sorry.” His voice startles you a bit, your thoughts swirling in an irritated bubble around you. John's voice always breaks through. You grab a bag of dirt to prep for the plants in your greenhouse.

“I'm sorry,” he says again, his voice closer than before. You sigh and pause scooping the dirt from the bag into your own mixture.

“I hate this.”

“I know, I'm sorry. I really am.” You continue what you're doing, preferring to stay quiet instead of saying something you'll regret later on. It's not long before John is right next to you, bringing his sleeves up and mixing the dirt by hand. It softens you up. The sight of him helping you always has really, and it makes you smile despite yourself.

“I can do it, John.” 

“I know you can. Let me.” You stop what you're doing and watch his hands. Watch how they sift through the dirt like he was mixing butter into a short puff pastry. So delicate and without any thought, just as natural to him as it is to breathe. John can see you from the corner of his eye. You've seemingly forgotten the mixing altogether and are leaning closer, almost shoulder to shoulder. 

“I like being here with you,” he starts, taking a used rag nearby to wipe his hands, “I can lose my focus and it doesn't cost me a life. It feels freeing.”

“I didn't know that.” You move things out of the way, cleaning as you go.

“Well, I know this is your space to get away so I try not to barge in.” He wipes some dirt from the tip of your nose.

“I always love when you're here with me.”

“Even if I upset you by being a dumb, forgetful man?” He sort of pouts and a giggle bubbles out of you. John smiles, hoping to hear that sound every moment of his life. He finds a wayward hair falling out of place and tucks it behind your ear.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He pulls you into him, enveloping you completely. There's nothing else for you to do but fall in deep, deeper still. The smell of him calming all of your senses and somehow, some way you feel that peaceful quiet making you sleepy.

“How about this? We go inside, warm up with some hot chocolate and put on a spooky movie.” 

“Yes, please.” You say, taking his hand and following him back to the house.

You’ve never been one to push him on expressing his feelings. You learned quickly that John would come to on his own, as did you whether you realized it or not. It took an accident, a simple fall really. You were out on a walk and something struck you in how these tiny flowers, or weeds, really, stuck out from the side of the road you were walking on. The Sun shining pointedly at them and they seemed to have pointedly been reaching out to you. John had a meeting to take somewhere in town even though it was supposed to be your vacation together, so as soon as you woke in the morning to find him gone and a beautiful note at your bedside, a walk was due.

You only meant to pick a few to press when you got back to the rental, but before you knew it, your ankle rolled and you found yourself tumbling in the ditch. It wasn’t deep or far off at all, but when John found out, you might as well have fallen straight to the Earth’s core.

“You should’ve waited until I got back,” he started, pacing in the hospital room. The nurse was tending to your ankle, gently. “What if you got really hurt? How would I have known?”

“I was clumsy. I can be clumsy, John. I’m okay.”

“And if you weren’t?”

“Then I wouldn’t be.”

For some reason, that stops him. You still wonder what it was you said that calmed him down, but you remember him kneeling down in front of you and softly, deftly, taking your sprained ankle into his hands. You were going to stop him from unraveling the nurses' handiwork, but stop yourself and let him, curious. He looks you over, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, and wraps it back better than it just had been.

“You’re okay.” You nodded, understanding what he needed at that moment. He sighed heavily, looking up at you and saying, "Getting that call scared me. I don’t want you getting hurt ever again.” And there it was.

“I can’t promise that.” You both laughed quietly. He placed a kiss on your ankle and stood up.

“I know, but do it anyway. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You'll never forget that look in his eyes. Brown eyes, matching yours, shimmering with so much love. You swore in that moment that if you had reached out to put your hand on his chest, your hearts beating would be indistinguishable from the other. Not a single wave, lurch, or pulse different in any way. How curious all of this was. How lovely. How lucky.

"I promise, John." You remember saying again and he kissed you. A soft and sweet kiss that always lingers, still.

[wandering-gambler]

i'm sure it's been done 1000000x before but stripper!reader x John Wick would go so hard esp if you're not even a willing participant.

like maybe he's there to scope out the club (and maybe he ran into you at the museum earlier, and his interest was piqued the moment you started rambling about ursus arctos californicus and followed you to your second job. it's whatever), and your paths keep crossing. he's just the polite (weirdly so) older man in your bracket, always sitting in the shadows and drinking nothing but sparkling water. and that should be it.

but you can't stop staring at him. and that's quickly becoming a problem so you offer him a lap dance (because at the very least, if he's like every other man who pays for an hour of your time behind closed doors then you can give up on this confusing muddle of emotions whenever you feel his eyes on you), but it doesn't go as planned. instead of leaning back and grunting at you, he peels his jacket off, eyes politely averted, and slips it over your bare shoulders, unbothered by the glitter and the stench of secondhand smoke that clings to your skin, and now soaking into his expensive, Italian-cut suit.

he offers you lapsang souchong from a small thermos tucked inside his jacket, and seems content to just watch you drink tea and make idle conversation about your job, your boss, your life. Twilight Zone—he's never watched it, he confesses with his palms pointed skyward. you stumble just a little when the flashing neon lights catch the milk-white of his rough skin. he's a beautiful man—tall and lean and soft spoken—and sometimes you wish he'd just disappear because there's too much politeness inside of him, and it feels like battery acid on your skin. but you don't. don't ask him to leave. don't change shifts. you just tell him that's a travesty because sometimes you think you could listen to Rod Sterling talk about oddities for hours.

soul-soothing, you say, instead of what it really is: a mindless distraction from the feeling of unwanted hands on your skin—sticky with nicotine; leaving stains behind—but he looks at you—through you—like he knows what you refuse to say. brooding eyes fossicking through the lies you lay on the table until he chisels the truth from your glitter-stained head, cradling it like a precious gem as he nods, slow and measured, and tells you he'll watch it later on as he pours you another cup of tea. he always says drunk up when he does, but you swear that sometimes it sounds like he's saying i'll take care of it.

and it becomes a little bit of a gag, too, because he never, ever gets a proper lap dance despite paying for one each time. things come up—he has to leave only minutes after you walk through door, leaving behind food that he insists you eat, or comfortable clothes he makes sure you put on. ones he never accepts back, and that always fit you perfectly. or he just wastes his hour listening to you prattle on about whatever it is that has your attention that week, offering a small smile and a slow shake of his head when you try to give him more to make up for it. a little wink, too. a secretive this is just for us he keeps tucked inside the rucksack he carries, filled with homemade food, tea, and gifts you don't deserve. all crammed beside the bits and pieces you tell him about yourself. your life. your wants, dreams.

and it's weird. he's weird. a fifty-something widower who is much too good to be in a place like this, to spend time with a broken, sad little thing more than half his age. they'd write tragedies about this, you joke, flipping through an original print of The Idiot that you didn't believe he actually had. but he just shrugs, palms open, skyward, and says he's stopped believing in the desolate outcome of Russian romance a long time ago.

(he leaves his rare copy of The Idiot behind despite giving away a small fortune.)

but it's difficult to escape the fatalistic nature of your relationship. one built on debt and obligation—a transactional affair. services rendered. money deposited. and it doesn't surprise you much when the financial elephant in the room moves, shattering the illusion of choice when the man holding the end of your leash says he's sending you to Europe. a business partner thought you were a pretty little bird, and you're easier to giftwrap than a couple of Lamborghinis.

and it comes to a head when you catch him killing your boss—and maybe it's your fault for letting it slip that he's giving you away, but you thought you could trust him to keep that secret—and reflectively, you grab the gun lying on the floor, but he's just as unbothered by you shakily pointing it at him as is he by the gurgling man lying at his feet, staining the bottoms of his expensive leather loafers with blood. even calmly corrects your form, a little "hold it like this, honey," slipping out as he instructs you how to handle a gun to his own potential detriment. and the that's it, that's my good girl that follows when you obey his instruction is almost too much. so you run. and he follows—straight to the stage where your boss' men stand around, guns drawn, and try to take him down.

futilely, of course, and all you can do is stand there—wide-eyed—on stage as the gentle, polite man who refused every sly attempt of yours to seduce him takes down every man in the room until it's just the two of you remaining in a bloodsoaked room. neon lights slipping through the mess until it glints like the glitter they slathered over your skin. music blaring. smoke dissipating. if your feet didn't ache from the heels they picked for you, you might think it was a dream. a nightmare, maybe. except the monsters are the ones being slaughtered, and you can still taste the faint curl of smoke from the cup of pu'erh between your teeth. hear the buzz of his voice in your ear—i won't let them take you from me, honey.

and when he's finished, he sits at the end of the platform in the "throne," your leash held in his pale hand, and asks if you'd like to dance for him. only him.

(and he'll tuck you into bed later on that night after bathing you—refusing to let you lift a single finger as he gently scrubs the glitter from your skin, thumbs sliding over the indents in your wrist, the marks of your shackles the only remnants of the club that was burned to the ground, no survivors—the Twilight Zone theme playing softly in the background as he curls his lean body over yours, murmuring into your ear to sleep before leaning over to tuck your leash into the drawer of his bedside table.)

[wandering-gambler]

Too Friendly

Pairing: John Wick X Reader

Word count: 2K

Requested by @cynic-spirit : A fluffy jealous John wick headcanon. The reader is kind to everyone and one particular guy is flirting without her knowledge making John jealous. Please please please

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Your best friend's garden is beautifully decorated and crowded. The music is a little too loud for your taste, but soon enough you're swinging to the beat, standing by the table you're sharing with John. The evening is just falling, and after taking another selfie with a friend, you go back to your seat beside John. He's not the sociable type, but ever since you started dating, he's more than happy to accompany you to any party or social event your friends come up with. And you cherish that, never taking his company for granted and making sure you won't leave him alone.

“Wanna dance with me?” You ask, leaning closer to him with a smile.

“I'm not a dancer.” He says, his voice soft and sweet.

“Now, that's a lie.” Smirking, you giggle. “You were the one to teach me how to slow dance. Or have you forgotten?”

“Of course I haven't. How could I?” On that night, two years ago, your arms found their way around John's neck, and his hands rested on your waist as he softly guided you, and you started to slowly swing from side to side. On that same night, in his arms, you shared your first kiss, after six months hanging out and going on many dates, caught in between friends and something else. And you wanted something else so bad. So you decided to take advantage of the unusual proximity to stand on your toes and finally connect your lips to his. It was so warm and sweet, the best thing in the world. From that day after, you were his. And he was yours, wholeheartedly. “You were already changing my life even before, but after that night...” John's hand comes to your cheek, his thumb caressing your lower lip. “...You turned everything upside down on the best way possible.”

“So... Since when mighty John Wick cares if the music is slow or not?” Your eyes fall on his lips and you don't wait for his answer. It doesn't really matter now, you just need to have his lips on yours so that's what you do, ignoring you're surrounded by people now.

The moment John kisses you, it all vanishes. The music is just a distant beat, and there's nobody else in the world right now. As his lips move slowly, deepening the kiss, you're more than happy to follow, trying to fight the urge to climb into his lap, suddenly wanting to be even closer to him.

“Why do I taste cherry?” John inquires in a low voice when you break the kiss to catch a breath.

“...Because I may have stolen some from the cake?” Answering with a smile, you giggle when you open your eyes, finding a pair of furrowed eyebrows.

“Didn't you think about bringing me some?”

“Well... You're tasting them, aren't you?”

His lips break into a smile, and a small chuckle shakes his shoulders. “Give me some more then.”

“Don't even have to ask twice.” When he's at your lips again, you want to run your hand through his hair, but you're fairly aware that you're in public, and John has his hair slid back, so you don't want to mess it up. So you grab his tie instead, urging him to come a little closer.

“Uhm... Excuse me, lovebirds.” Someone says and you reluctantly pull away, raising your eyes to find the birthday girl standing next to your table.

“Jane, hi.” Blushing a little, you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“Hi.” She says with a smirk. “Mind joining me? I want some photos with the girls. By the pool.”

“Sure.” Turning back at John, you pull him into a quick kiss. “I'll be right back, love.”

He simply nods, intense eyes on you as you get up, following Jane. She guides you to the pool, which has big pink, purple and blue balloons in its water. It's a beautiful place and the pictures will amazing. As you strike different poses with all of your closest girl friends, you smile at the camera, giving John a few glances since you can see the table you're at from here. He has a small smile on his face too, eyes never leaving you.

“Oh, I'll call my mom for the next one. Be right back.” She walks away, as fast as she can in her heels. You then engage in a small conversation with the girls, scrolling through your Instagram account.

“Hey.” Someone says, and you quickly raise your eyes to see a guy approaching you, also with his phone on hand. He's a bit taller than you, but not even closer to be as tall as John, and has short blonde hair. Kind eyes too. “Do I know you?”

“Uhm... I don't think so.” Offering a small smile, you soon turn your attention back at your screen. “Were you invited or are you a party crasher?”

“I've done that a couple of times, but I was invited to this one. See that woman over there?” Following his gesture, you spot an old lady with blonde hair. “My mother. She's friends with Jane's mother so you get the idea.”

“Yeah.” You mutter, giving another kind smile before focusing on your feed again. “I crashed a few parties too back on my high school days. Was a little wild back then.” Shrugging your shoulders, you switch your weight from one leg to another.

“And are you still?”

“Am I still what?”

“Wild?”

Shaking your head slightly, you furrow your eyebrows when you look up at him again. “Not really, no.” You don't get what he means, but since he has a playful smile on his face, he's probably just joking. A text makes your phone beep and your quick answers. It's Jane asking if you have seen her mother, but you haven't.

Suddenly, you feel the man's hand brushing on your shoulder and neck, and you soon notice he's taking one of your earings on his hand. It's a long piece, made of several tiny pieces of metal, that make soft noises when you move, and sometimes brush on your shoulder. You're just about to ask what's he's doing when he moves his hand away. “My mother has a huge collection of earrings. Over one thousand pairs. It's somehow of a hobby for her.”

“Oh...” You find it a little weird how close he stands, so you step away. “My fiance gave me this actually.”

“Fiance?”

“Yup.” Smiling, you show him the ring. “The wedding is in four months.”

“Isn't that great?”

“(Y/N)!” Jane calls from a window on the second floor and you and the girls soon go inside.

There's a small background set in her living room, with neon lights all around. It was her mother's surprise since she's obsessed with taking pictures. A lot are taken, and after twenty minutes you excuse yourself to get back to John. He doesn't really know anyone here and you hate leaving him alone.

As you walk through one of the may halls on your way to the garden, you check the selfies you made, deleting those you don't like. Your high heels echo through the empty hall as you giggle at a silly face Jane made.

“Hello again.” The voice makes you stop suddenly, and when you look at the hall before you, you see that same man from before. “I'm glad I managed to find you alone.”

“And why would you want to find me alone?” It kicks in fast, that he doesn't care if you're in a relationship.

“Because you're so damn beautiful that I really wanted to–”

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Raising a hand at him, you speak louder, your voice cutting him off.

“Do what?” He chuckles, crossing his arms.

“Step anywhere closer to me.” At the end of the hall, who you see, standing there, doesn't allow you to feel scared. You feel brave, safe, despite him being a little too far.

“And why's that?” Flashing a million-dollar smile, the one you're sure he gives all the girls he expects to get it on with. But it doesn't mean anything to you, it's just an empty, lifeless gesture.

“Because John Wick can basically smell when someone's hitting on me.” As you speak, giving the words just the right intonation, you see as the man comes closer, just as John does the same. You don't move, there's no reason to. You know this guy won't lay a hand on you.

“If you dare to touch her, you'll lose the whole arm.” John's voice breaks through the silence, and the man stops immediately, with a little shake, turning on his heels and finally noticing John's presence. “You should've listened to her advice.”

“Look, pal, I mean no–”

“John, baby, I'll get our stuff and wait for you by the car.” Cutting him off, you walk over John, touching his cheek and pecking his lips when he bends over a little. “See you in a while.”

“Wait.” The man says. “What's the hell is going on?”

You don't bother to answer, you just head to the garden, to your table to get your purse and to Jane's small parking lot, where John's Camaro is. Leaning over the hood, you patiently wait, still going through the many pictures you took today. There a lot of them you took with John earlier today, and you set one of them, you're favorite, as your lock screen.

A couple of minutes later you see a figure approaching you, and when you lift up your eyes, you smile to see John. He looks as perfect as he was before, so it means the guy wasn't much of a hard work to deal with.

“Hey there, handsome.” Putting the phone in your purse, you stand up straight, moving into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. “Did you... Kill him?”

“No. I was feeling generous today.” His voice is deep and a little dark, as it always sounds when he's angry. “But he won't be able to use his right arm for at least ten months. Maybe more.”

“Uhm...” You mutter, a hand caressing his cheek. “How did you find me?”

“I saw that asshole talking to you so I kept an eye on him. Then you went inside and he soon followed.” As he speaks, John's arms hold you a little tighter against his body. “You have to be careful, (Y/N). You're way too friendly with everyone. People notice these things and they will use it to their advantage.”

“I know.” Taking a deep breath, you look down. John always warns you about this, and this isn't the first time something like that happens. “I just... I want to see the good of people. Sometimes it backfires.”

When your eyes meet him again, his face is different, softer. “I know, sweetheart. That's one of the many things I love about you.” His hand comes to your cheek, his thumb caressing your chin. “Now let me take you home.”

“Uhm... I was thinking about a sleepover at your place.” Smiling, you peck his lips. “What do you say?”

“I'd love it.” He moves to open the passenger door for you, but you stop him, giving him a glance. “What?”

“Dance with me, Jardani.” Stepping away from the car and taking a hold of his hand.

Giggling, you allow him to pull you close once again, a strong arm around your waist as the other holds your hand. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

“So do you.” Swinging to an imaginary song, you allow him to guide you, from side to side, spinning around, pushing you away just to pull you back into his arms. John's arms, the best place you could ever be. As your movements slowly fade, you stand face to face with John, and it doesn't take much until you claim his lips. It's always a surprise, a good, amazing feeling building up from your heart and spreading through your whole body. After almost three years, it still feels the same. And there's no way to describe how happy you are to have the rest of your life to kiss him, hold, and be held by John.

[wandering-gambler]

Too Friendly

Pairing: John Wick X Reader

Word count: 2K

Requested by @cynic-spirit : A fluffy jealous John wick headcanon. The reader is kind to everyone and one particular guy is flirting without her knowledge making John jealous. Please please please

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Your best friend's garden is beautifully decorated and crowded. The music is a little too loud for your taste, but soon enough you're swinging to the beat, standing by the table you're sharing with John. The evening is just falling, and after taking another selfie with a friend, you go back to your seat beside John. He's not the sociable type, but ever since you started dating, he's more than happy to accompany you to any party or social event your friends come up with. And you cherish that, never taking his company for granted and making sure you won't leave him alone.

“Wanna dance with me?” You ask, leaning closer to him with a smile.

“I'm not a dancer.” He says, his voice soft and sweet.

“Now, that's a lie.” Smirking, you giggle. “You were the one to teach me how to slow dance. Or have you forgotten?”

“Of course I haven't. How could I?” On that night, two years ago, your arms found their way around John's neck, and his hands rested on your waist as he softly guided you, and you started to slowly swing from side to side. On that same night, in his arms, you shared your first kiss, after six months hanging out and going on many dates, caught in between friends and something else. And you wanted something else so bad. So you decided to take advantage of the unusual proximity to stand on your toes and finally connect your lips to his. It was so warm and sweet, the best thing in the world. From that day after, you were his. And he was yours, wholeheartedly. “You were already changing my life even before, but after that night...” John's hand comes to your cheek, his thumb caressing your lower lip. “...You turned everything upside down on the best way possible.”

“So... Since when mighty John Wick cares if the music is slow or not?” Your eyes fall on his lips and you don't wait for his answer. It doesn't really matter now, you just need to have his lips on yours so that's what you do, ignoring you're surrounded by people now.

The moment John kisses you, it all vanishes. The music is just a distant beat, and there's nobody else in the world right now. As his lips move slowly, deepening the kiss, you're more than happy to follow, trying to fight the urge to climb into his lap, suddenly wanting to be even closer to him.

“Why do I taste cherry?” John inquires in a low voice when you break the kiss to catch a breath.

“...Because I may have stolen some from the cake?” Answering with a smile, you giggle when you open your eyes, finding a pair of furrowed eyebrows.

“Didn't you think about bringing me some?”

“Well... You're tasting them, aren't you?”

His lips break into a smile, and a small chuckle shakes his shoulders. “Give me some more then.”

“Don't even have to ask twice.” When he's at your lips again, you want to run your hand through his hair, but you're fairly aware that you're in public, and John has his hair slid back, so you don't want to mess it up. So you grab his tie instead, urging him to come a little closer.

“Uhm... Excuse me, lovebirds.” Someone says and you reluctantly pull away, raising your eyes to find the birthday girl standing next to your table.

“Jane, hi.” Blushing a little, you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“Hi.” She says with a smirk. “Mind joining me? I want some photos with the girls. By the pool.”

“Sure.” Turning back at John, you pull him into a quick kiss. “I'll be right back, love.”

He simply nods, intense eyes on you as you get up, following Jane. She guides you to the pool, which has big pink, purple and blue balloons in its water. It's a beautiful place and the pictures will amazing. As you strike different poses with all of your closest girl friends, you smile at the camera, giving John a few glances since you can see the table you're at from here. He has a small smile on his face too, eyes never leaving you.

“Oh, I'll call my mom for the next one. Be right back.” She walks away, as fast as she can in her heels. You then engage in a small conversation with the girls, scrolling through your Instagram account.

“Hey.” Someone says, and you quickly raise your eyes to see a guy approaching you, also with his phone on hand. He's a bit taller than you, but not even closer to be as tall as John, and has short blonde hair. Kind eyes too. “Do I know you?”

“Uhm... I don't think so.” Offering a small smile, you soon turn your attention back at your screen. “Were you invited or are you a party crasher?”

“I've done that a couple of times, but I was invited to this one. See that woman over there?” Following his gesture, you spot an old lady with blonde hair. “My mother. She's friends with Jane's mother so you get the idea.”

“Yeah.” You mutter, giving another kind smile before focusing on your feed again. “I crashed a few parties too back on my high school days. Was a little wild back then.” Shrugging your shoulders, you switch your weight from one leg to another.

“And are you still?”

“Am I still what?”

“Wild?”

Shaking your head slightly, you furrow your eyebrows when you look up at him again. “Not really, no.” You don't get what he means, but since he has a playful smile on his face, he's probably just joking. A text makes your phone beep and your quick answers. It's Jane asking if you have seen her mother, but you haven't.

Suddenly, you feel the man's hand brushing on your shoulder and neck, and you soon notice he's taking one of your earings on his hand. It's a long piece, made of several tiny pieces of metal, that make soft noises when you move, and sometimes brush on your shoulder. You're just about to ask what's he's doing when he moves his hand away. “My mother has a huge collection of earrings. Over one thousand pairs. It's somehow of a hobby for her.”

“Oh...” You find it a little weird how close he stands, so you step away. “My fiance gave me this actually.”

“Fiance?”

“Yup.” Smiling, you show him the ring. “The wedding is in four months.”

“Isn't that great?”

“(Y/N)!” Jane calls from a window on the second floor and you and the girls soon go inside.

There's a small background set in her living room, with neon lights all around. It was her mother's surprise since she's obsessed with taking pictures. A lot are taken, and after twenty minutes you excuse yourself to get back to John. He doesn't really know anyone here and you hate leaving him alone.

As you walk through one of the may halls on your way to the garden, you check the selfies you made, deleting those you don't like. Your high heels echo through the empty hall as you giggle at a silly face Jane made.

“Hello again.” The voice makes you stop suddenly, and when you look at the hall before you, you see that same man from before. “I'm glad I managed to find you alone.”

“And why would you want to find me alone?” It kicks in fast, that he doesn't care if you're in a relationship.

“Because you're so damn beautiful that I really wanted to–”

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Raising a hand at him, you speak louder, your voice cutting him off.

“Do what?” He chuckles, crossing his arms.

“Step anywhere closer to me.” At the end of the hall, who you see, standing there, doesn't allow you to feel scared. You feel brave, safe, despite him being a little too far.

“And why's that?” Flashing a million-dollar smile, the one you're sure he gives all the girls he expects to get it on with. But it doesn't mean anything to you, it's just an empty, lifeless gesture.

“Because John Wick can basically smell when someone's hitting on me.” As you speak, giving the words just the right intonation, you see as the man comes closer, just as John does the same. You don't move, there's no reason to. You know this guy won't lay a hand on you.

“If you dare to touch her, you'll lose the whole arm.” John's voice breaks through the silence, and the man stops immediately, with a little shake, turning on his heels and finally noticing John's presence. “You should've listened to her advice.”

“Look, pal, I mean no–”

“John, baby, I'll get our stuff and wait for you by the car.” Cutting him off, you walk over John, touching his cheek and pecking his lips when he bends over a little. “See you in a while.”

“Wait.” The man says. “What's the hell is going on?”

You don't bother to answer, you just head to the garden, to your table to get your purse and to Jane's small parking lot, where John's Camaro is. Leaning over the hood, you patiently wait, still going through the many pictures you took today. There a lot of them you took with John earlier today, and you set one of them, you're favorite, as your lock screen.

A couple of minutes later you see a figure approaching you, and when you lift up your eyes, you smile to see John. He looks as perfect as he was before, so it means the guy wasn't much of a hard work to deal with.

“Hey there, handsome.” Putting the phone in your purse, you stand up straight, moving into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. “Did you... Kill him?”

“No. I was feeling generous today.” His voice is deep and a little dark, as it always sounds when he's angry. “But he won't be able to use his right arm for at least ten months. Maybe more.”

“Uhm...” You mutter, a hand caressing his cheek. “How did you find me?”

“I saw that asshole talking to you so I kept an eye on him. Then you went inside and he soon followed.” As he speaks, John's arms hold you a little tighter against his body. “You have to be careful, (Y/N). You're way too friendly with everyone. People notice these things and they will use it to their advantage.”

“I know.” Taking a deep breath, you look down. John always warns you about this, and this isn't the first time something like that happens. “I just... I want to see the good of people. Sometimes it backfires.”

When your eyes meet him again, his face is different, softer. “I know, sweetheart. That's one of the many things I love about you.” His hand comes to your cheek, his thumb caressing your chin. “Now let me take you home.”

“Uhm... I was thinking about a sleepover at your place.” Smiling, you peck his lips. “What do you say?”

“I'd love it.” He moves to open the passenger door for you, but you stop him, giving him a glance. “What?”

“Dance with me, Jardani.” Stepping away from the car and taking a hold of his hand.

Giggling, you allow him to pull you close once again, a strong arm around your waist as the other holds your hand. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

“So do you.” Swinging to an imaginary song, you allow him to guide you, from side to side, spinning around, pushing you away just to pull you back into his arms. John's arms, the best place you could ever be. As your movements slowly fade, you stand face to face with John, and it doesn't take much until you claim his lips. It's always a surprise, a good, amazing feeling building up from your heart and spreading through your whole body. After almost three years, it still feels the same. And there's no way to describe how happy you are to have the rest of your life to kiss him, hold, and be held by John.

[wandering-gambler]

john with his darling pestering him about teaching her russian🥹 she wants to learn about all the terms of endearments so she can use them on john, and his heart is about to burst with affection because she’s looking at him with stars in her eyes and he’s melting😭 -🥮

mooncake bro this is so cute i’m giggling.

he literally froze in his tracks when you asked him to teach you some russian words. mind all foggy. head empty. no thoughts. asked you like five times if you were messing with him.

most russian endearments are prone to be female gendered or just not something you would call a six foot man, so the ones i can think of are “любимый” lyubeemiy/loved one and “дорогой” daragoy/dear.

part of him chuckles softly when you mispronounce some syllables, but the other part makes his heart swell with love because you are just so cute and adorable trying your best to connect with your favorite person better and he can’t help but just smooch you all over your face and squeeze you in a tight hug <3

what you did, though, is literally beg him to teach you how to say “i love you,” (я люблю тебя) and he regretted it the moment he agreed because every time you used it he literally wanted to dig up a hole and bury himself deep in the ground at the amount of intense affection he felt in his bones. you would practice it over and over again to perfect it and make it sound as natural as you could.

when you would be cuddling after a love making session, your nude bodies wrapped around one another, you would softly whisper “ya lyublyu tebya,” your face inches away from his, your hands caressing his jawline. and he is like :( staring at you for several seconds thinking his ears betrayed him. your confession was so intimate both because of the vulnerable physical states of your bodies and the roll of each syllable in his mother language coming from your lips.

[wandering-gambler]

Imagine John coming face to face with a fellow hitman!reader. You’re fast, you’re strong, maybe even trained under the ruska roma either with him or after he had already left giving you guys that connection. You know ultimately if you go head to head with the Baba Yaga, you will lose, so you do the only thing you can think of when his blade is pressed against your throat.

You press your lips onto his.

It’s like his brain short circuits, he freezes, unable to decide what to do next, and giving you just enough time to slip out of his grasp and make a run for it.

He still feels the warmth of your kiss when he finally turns in for the night later, and the fact that he’s thinking of you, toiling over something so bizarre and crazy as a kiss, drives him mad.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that’s when he starts hunting for you.

[wandering-gambler]

Making a sex tape w JW

Word count: 3.7k

AN: not my favorite fic I’ve written but oh well lol what a dream…

You were sitting on the couch and John’s head was in your lap. Both of you were talking about anything and everything. This happened a lot when the two of you were together. You’d put some music on and just chat away, telling stories and asking for advice on things. It’s the only time you’d ever seen him so talkative.

The two of you had been together for four years and living together for three. Your time with John had been amazing. The sex was great, leaving you satisfied every time. Your emotional connection was filled to the brim as you agreed on almost everything and he was your best friend.

Plus you’d never dated someone who actually helped you cook and clean.

You stared at your hand, imagining a ring on your finger. Honestly, you could feel it coming you just didn’t know when. Something about the way John was acting had you suspicious. He was being extra sweet lately. Waking up and making love to you every morning and then he’d cook you breakfast right after.

Also he had been making a lot of wife jokes as of recent to the point you don’t even know if he noticed. You could never tell with John as sometimes he’d know exactly what he was doing and then sometimes he’d look at you genuinely confused. At those times he looked so adorable.

John didn’t miss you staring at your ring finger over and over again as he always noticed the little things. He wanted to smirk so badly but he knew you’d ask him what was up. The ring was in his nightstand drawer, he was just waiting for the right moment to ask you. Which, honestly he was having a hard time making a decision right now.

John listened as you talked about this time with your friend where the two of you went out and you committed crazy shenanigans. He laughed and couldn’t help himself. He was mesmerized by your laughter at your own story. Your hands were playing with his hair absentmindedly and you would occasionally bop him on the forehead when you were making a point in your story.

John’s chest felt overwhelmingly full with love as he listened to your story, even laughing along with you at some points. He felt bad, he really did have this awesome plan. The idea was to bring you to the fanciest restaurant he knew and wine and dine you before getting on one knee and proposing in front of everyone. But now felt like the right time.

“Be my wife.”

Your mouth shut, stopping dead in the middle of your story. You felt your heart drop into your stomach with excitement. He looked so innocent and shy in your lap as he waited for a response. You smiled a large smile that put any model to shame. He felt his heart leap out of chest… He just needed to hear yes.

“Are you messing with me Mr Wick?” You asked.

“Never… hopefully Mrs. Wick.” He shot back, smirking.

You smiled at him, a big tooth showing smile as you leaned down to claim his lips in a sideways kiss, opening your mouth to let him tongue kiss you before pulling away.

“Yes.”

John smiled at you and reached up to pull you down for another kiss. It didn't take long for it to become heated and he broke away to get up. His hair was messed up from laying in your lap and you immediately ran your fingers through it to fix it. He just laughed and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

*

Later that night you were laying against John’s naked chest, well spent but your mind was still thinking dirty things. There were so many things you wanted to try with him. You wanted to tie him up and ride him until he couldn’t take anymore, try MDMA together and most importantly, you wanted to record a love making session.

The ring on your finger was simple but you could tell it was expensive. You couldn’t stop staring at it as it looked beautiful on your hands. Tomorrow you’d take pictures. Now that John was going to be your husband, you thought it might be the time to start throwing your ideas out there.

You placed your palms on John's chest and put your chin on the back of your hands, looking up at him sweetly. He was telling you a story when he noticed your lustful gaze.

“What?”

“What if we made some…. private movies?” You purred at him.

“Like a sex tape?” He asked bewildered.

“Yes, like a sex tape.” You laughed at his face, trailing your fingers up his chest.

“I don’t want to be on the internet.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. Neither did you.

“No silly. Just for us. I’ll buy a camera…” You bit your lip at the idea.

John felt a pang of sexual desire shoot straight towards his dick. Just for the two of you? Such an intimate moment recorded for the two of you to watch over? The idea was starting to sound appealing… Those long nights away from you, it would really come in handy.

“Okay babe.” He said and you couldn’t help but squeal.

*

You rushed home. If your app was correct, your package should be at home. Unlocking the door to your apartment you ran into the kitchen where a little brown, cardboard box sat on the counter. John wasn’t home but he must’ve been when it arrived. You wondered if he knew what it was.

When you brought up the idea of making a sex tape with John you weren’t sure if he expected you to order one so soon as you just had the conversation a night ago. Thank god for overnight shipping. Plus you were always getting random packages. You ripped open the box with excitement. It was a small, back digital camera and you bit your lip, smiling. This was going to be a lot of fun.

*

You were saving it for the perfect time. The two of you had gone to the courthouse and got officially married four days after he asked you to be his wife. John couldn’t wait and didn’t want anything big anyways. You both had one witness, your friend and Marcus. It was a private and perfect moment made even better by him dropping that he had plane tickets to your dream spot.

At home you were sure to pack your sexist lingerie and everything else you needed. You were newly wed… the thought sending a giddy feeling throughout your whole body. When you were going over everything, you gasped, remembering the camera. You ran and grabbed it secretly, tucking it in your carry on, right under your shirts.

So here you were, exhausted after the plane ride, finally making it back to your hotel room. You immediately opened up a bottle of wine and toasted with your new husband. The two of you rubbed noses and canoodled before he suggested a bath. You nearly moaned at the thought and were now waiting for the tub to fill.

When it was ready John got in first. Then you stripped and got in, sitting in between his legs. You laid your back against his chest and felt the warm water engulf you. With a glass of wine in your hand the two of you joked and talked. Taking occasional sips you couldn’t help but notice how touchy he was being.

John’s hands kept trailing around your body. Squeezing you and petting you. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you and if you didn’t have a plan you probably would’ve turned around and fucked him right then and there. Instead you’d make him wait. You could see his little pout when you’d reject his advances but you just told him to behave himself.

Instead bath time was a close cuddle session where you almost fell asleep. You were so comfortable. If it wasn’t for John continuously kissing the back of your head and ears you would’ve drifted off into slumber. When you almost did fall asleep he suggested you both get out. The two do you took time drying each other off, whispering words of love to one another.

After your bath together you went into the bedroom while John went and sat on the couch. He was in only his boxers as he knew you loved to see him shirtless and wanted to make you happy. You opened your luggage and were looking around when you saw the camera… A smirk appeared on your face when you then grabbed your lingerie and slipped it on.

It was deep red and lace. You knew John would go crazy over it. Making your way out into the living room area you posed against the door frame. He was too busy staring straight ahead and you could tell he was lost in thought. You cleared your throat and he turned his head towards you, eyes immediately darkening.

With swaying hips you made your way to him. He sat up straight and put his hands on his lap though it was obvious he wanted to reach out and grab your hips.

“I wanna have some fun…” you puffed out, dragging your nail from his chin to his naked chest. “Do you?”

You showed him the camera in your hands and you swear her pupils got bigger with lust.

“Hell yeah.” He said

You grabbed the camera and brought it up, snapping a photo of John sitting on the couch. He just shook his head at you before grabbing the camera himself and went to take photos of you. You couldn’t help but pose for him, smile for him and do whatever as he took photo after photo. By the third one you were laughing.

John loved taking photos of you and even more so now that you were in lingerie and had a private camera. You sat on the couch next to him and spread your thighs, placing your hands behind your head. Swearing you heard him let out a low growl, he snapped the photo.

“Okay. Enough of that.” You laughed and grabbed the camera back from him.

You turned to set the camera up and angled it so it could see you two. Looking deep into the lense you couldn’t help but press record, smile and bring your fingers up like a clapperboard.

“Take one”

John laughed but got comfortable. Sitting on his lap you threw your arms around his shoulders. Slowly moving your hips you ground yourself against him. You looked him in his eyes and winked at him. He grinded up against you and you could feel his cock hardening beneath you.

Your hips moved back and forth as you rubbed up against each other. John’s hands came to touch you all over your body through the lingerie. The fabric felt rough and smooth under his palms. He squeezed your breasts and your hips all while letting out soft grunts. You bent down to claim his lips in a kiss.

The kiss was passionate as you ate each other's face off. Your tongues swirling around each other’s, teeth biting lips… You could drown in his mouth and you wouldn’t even complain. Feeling his hard cock beneath you, you snuck your hand down and started massaging him through his pants.

John moaned into your mouth. His hands felt your whole body up and he couldn’t get enough. He was ready to fuck you.

Usually he was so careful. Taking his time to undress you like he was unwrapping a present but he couldn’t help himself this time. His hands went down to the panties and with ease, he ripped them off of you.

The action made you grow wetter. Thick fingers found your clit and started to rub. You threw your head back, breaking the kiss and groaned out. Your hands were pulling at his hair.

“This was expensive.” You whined.

“I’ll buy you more baby.” Your hands yanked his locks as you called him a bad boy.

John winced but growled out, speeding up his fingers. You were already soaking wet and he shifted you so he could just get his dick out of his boxers. He was so hard and a bead of precum was formed at the tip. You brought your hand down to jerk him a couple times all while collecting the precum on your fingers. Bringing your hand back up you looked him right in the eyes as you sucked it off.

John groaned at the sight before grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him he dragged the tip of his dick from your clit, in between your folds to your ass and back again. He was toying with you. The hand on your clit came up to grab you by your cheeks when he forced you to look into his eyes as he pushed into you.

John’s rhythm started slow. He placed his forehead against your shoulder as he thrusted his hips upwards, reaching places no man had ever reached before inside you. The first time you had sex with him you had to be prepared for hours. Now that you had sex regularly you could take his big dick with ease.

He was moving so slow it felt like he’d just stop every few seconds and in those few seconds you could feel him throbbing inside you. John was holding back but you didn’t want that. Grabbing his shoulders you used your legs to begin bouncing up and down, fast. He let out a grunt but relaxed against the couch, letting you take control.

Feeling him slide in and out of your pussy had you almost gushing as you sped up your bounces. In and out he went so deep inside of you. He groaned out low and started rubbing your clit again. His hand snuck down to grab the base of his penis, his hand stopping you from being able to fuck his full length. You were more riding the tip of his dick.

The shallow thrusts were driving you mad. You slowed your movements but continued to roll your hips, his cock never leaving you. You looked deep into his eyes and leaned down, kissing him. Your tongues moved together. His lips and tongue were about as addicting as his cock. You decided to be a little more vocal for the camera.

“Move your hand…” You whined, “I want to feel you deep inside me.”

John moaned out but complied and you were right back to riding him. The two of you preferred the cowgirl position. It let him get impossibly deep within you and he got to see your beautiful face and body move as it did want it wanted to achieve your pleasure. He began thrusting up himself, his hips meeting yours every time you came down.

The sound of your skin slapping against each other combined with your moans and groans filled the mic of the camera. You turned and looked into the lens. Your body turned to face it a bit and your hands came up to squeeze your breasts through your top. John groaned out and brought his hands up to replace yours.

He squeezed the fat before bringing his hands to the hem of the top and ripping it right off of you. Leaning forward he latched his lips onto your nipple and swirled his tongue around the bud. You cried out, his fingers on your clit, mouth on your breasts and cock in your pussy had you almost drooling in pleasure.

John looked up at you and you brought your hands up to push his hair out of his face. You stopped bouncing and swirled your hips around and around.

“You feel so good.” You moaned out.

The way your pussy pulsed around him and he knew you were being recorded he couldn’t stop himself. In one motion he stood up, picking you up in his arms. You let out a squeak and wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips. His cock was still deep in you when he threw you onto your back on the couch.

Without a second’s hesitation he started thrusting into you at a speed that had you seeing stars. His fingers were back on your clit and his other hand came up to cradle your face. All the camera could see was his back flexing over and over with every thrusts as he fucked you missionary style. You moaned knowing you’d get to see his back tattoos in the rewatch.

“Hand me the camera.” You begged him.

John bent backwards, still thrusting into you as he leaned to grab it. His hips never stuttered and he brought it to you, wondering what you were going to do.

You reached and grabbed the camera before bringing it down and recording his dick moving in and out of you. John’s thrusts sped up a little bit as he bit his lip and groaned. This was hotter than he thought it was going to be. You moaned out and held the camera, knowing when you looked back the scene would be raunchy as fuck.

“Just like that…” You whimpered out with every thrust.

John chuckled but slowed down his thrusts anyways, pulling out of you with a painstaking slowness and pushing back in like he wasn’t in the middle of fucking you. You stared down at the camera and felt your stomach tighten. He could feel you squeezing him and he knew you were close.

In the video his penis had a shine to it, being so wet from your juices. The sounds were erotic and vulgar with wet slapping sounds every time your skin made contact. You cried out and almost dropped the camera from feeling so much pleasure but you kept a tight grip.

Before he knew what he was doing he grabbed the camera from your hands and brought it up to record your face. He needed the best part in the film. Your eyes were half lidded and your mouth was open as you couldn’t stop moaning. You couldn’t help but lean up and kiss the lense for him.

John smiled at you but increased his speed. You kept looking into the camera but then shifted your eyes so you could look into his. Your blissfully fucked face was driving him mad and he couldn’t help but say fuck it. He placed the camera on the table next to you, not even caring if it was recording the two of you or not. Thankfully it was.

John leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up so you were against his chest. You felt like a rag doll as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. He continued you fuck you like this, with you in his arms as he held you. His cock felt fantastic. You pulled back and placed your forehead against his.

It hit you that this was the first time you were having sex as husband and wife. The emotions that overwhelmed you made you feel all mushy and gushy. Although you were fucking dirty you couldn’t help but let the sweet words leave your mouth.

“I love you Jardani.” You cried out, feeling the emotion intensely.

John growled at the sound of his real name but began fucking you deep, hard and slow.

“I love you too.” He replied in his native language.

The tight feeling kept growing in your stomach as his fingers went down to rub your clit. It was like an orchestra reaching its crescendo. You grabbed onto him hard and felt your own hips coming to meet his with every thrust. Before you knew it, you were coming hard.

John leaned you down and laid you against the couch again but continued to move his hips. His lips came down to kiss you in a hungry, sloppy way. Though it was more tongue and spit than lips you moaned into his mouth and he swallowed every one of them. Your body felt like jello as your orgasm washed over you.

John could feel you squeezing him and it didn’t take long for his hips to stutter and for him to come with a long drawn out groan. He looked deep in your eyes as he came. His hair was all over his face and you could help but bring your hand up to push it out of the way. You never felt more connected to him than when you were like this.

The two of you sat like that, holding each other and making out until you remembered the camera. Your arm reached out from under him as you grabbed the camera. You turned it off and started giggling. Your body still shook but you couldn’t wait to rewatch it. He was softening inside of you and the moment was intimate.

You loved John so much. Sometimes you felt like sex and words couldn’t even describe how much you loved this man. You groaned as he pulled out of you and started chuckling himself.

“I can’t wait to rewatch my first time with my husband.” You said.

John smiled at you. He was glad the moment was caught on camera for the two of you to watch over and over. Pushing the hair out of his face with one hand he looked at you. You were beautiful and perfect. Everything he always wanted.

“Me too, my wife.” He responded.

The word seemed oh so right and wrong on his tongue. John didn’t believe he deserved this happiness but those were thoughts for another time. Everything felt so correct with you, like you were made for him and he was made for you. He couldn’t imagine ever calling anyone else his wife. In fact he never even thought he’d be married but here he was.

Having amazing, exciting marital sex with the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. John’s chest was full of love. It was a feeling he grew to enjoy. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. You smiled at him and could tell he was lost in his own thoughts. You grabbed his bicep and rubbed your thumb over the tattoo placed there.

“Why don’t we go rewatch it in the bedroom.” You said with a seductive tone, ready for round two.

There was no way you were going to rewatch that video without fucking again. John nodded his head enthusiastically before picking your naked body up and carrying you to the bedroom. It was going to be a long night.

[wandering-gambler]

Heatwave

Smutty John Wick x Reader

Summary: A heatwave hits and your AC breaks but damn does your boyfriend look good sweaty and half naked.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ only and not really a trigger warning but like please be super super fucking careful if you ever choose to have shower sex.

A/N: it’s hot as fuck I’m dying 😩

The heat was too much. You laid on the couch in just a sports bra and boxers, literally feeling yourself sticking to the fabric of the sofa. Music played through a speaker throughout the living room as you felt like you were melting. The AC unit in your home had broken and although you had the money to get it fixed it seemed as though everyone in the city’s AC broke as well.

When you called the repair people they said the earliest they could get to you would be in a couple of days. You hung up the phone feeling defeated. Then you and your boyfriend John went to multiple department stores looking for a fan. You figured that nobody was prepared for this heat wave as every store was sold out. With a defeated feeling you both made your way home.

Now you were laying on the couch dying, while John attempted to call some people. You wondered if you had enough ice in the fridge to make an ice bath in your bathroom when he walked in. Looking up from your spot you saw your boyfriend in just a pair of boxers walking into the living room to join you. He sighed while sitting down on the opposite side from you.

“I have a friend. He’s willing to do me a favor but it won’t be till tomorrow.” John spoke up, rubbing your ankle.

You groaned out but sat up. Taking a closer look at him, he had a slight sheen to him from sweat. He actually looked… really good but you weren’t sure you could actually have sex with him while your internal temperature already felt like one hundred degrees. Still your stare was enough to catch his attention.

John smirked and flexed his arms, knowing how much you liked it.

“Oh fuck you.” You almost whined out. “It’s too hot. I’m sorry I find you attractive.”

Your eyes rolled as he let out a beautiful laugh. Something about this heat though was driving you crazy. Like John looked irresistible to you. Suddenly you got an idea. You got onto your hands and knees and crawled along the couch towards him, like a predator getting ready to pounce on its prey. He didn’t break eye contact as he watched you.

When you got close to John you tilted your head and leaned forward, licking a bead of sweat that was collecting on his neck all the way up to his ear and then his cheek. He shuddered but stayed still. You placed a large smooch on his bearded cheek and nuzzled, feeling the hair beneath your lips. Sighing out you brought your lips to his ear.

“Why don’t you fuck me in the shower, Mr. Wick?” You practically purred out while bringing a hand down to palm his growing erection through the fabric of his boxers. “You always make my pussy feel so good.”

John practically growled and grabbed your wrist. You stopped yourself from laughing. It didn’t take much to get him going, you could’ve simply asked to have sex and he’d be on board, but you loved talking dirty to him and seeing how it drove him crazy.

“Watch what you say sweetheart.” He warned.

“Or what?” You played along.

John’s hand tightened around your wrist and he brought it up to his mouth. He kissed your palm before bringing your pointer finger to his mouth, biting it lightly. You squeezed your thighs together and let out an almost inaudible moan. Without thinking you pushed your finger deeper into his mouth causing him to gag slightly. He glared at you and removed your finger. Then he pulled you on top of him so he was looking up at you.

“John, it's way too hot!” You whined, feeling your hot skin stick to his.

“Payback for being cheeky.” He smiled.

You tried to push yourself off of him but melted into his touch as he began to burrow his face between your breasts, kissing the sweaty skin.

“You want me to make you feel good? I’ll make you feel good.” He murmured.

You fell back onto the couch as John stood up. He turned and offered his hand so you could stand up as well. You could feel the giddy feeling bouncing around your whole body, knowing what was coming. The two of you made your way into the bathroom where you turned the cold water on.

You turned to John and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, your sweaty skin still sticking together. Pulling him down you kissed him. His hands immediately went to your hips as your lips connected. You groaned at his taste and brought one of your hands to caress his face, loving the feeling of his beard beneath your palm.

Pulling back you smiled at him, giving him one more quick peck before taking your undergarments off and stepping into the shower. You couldn’t help but yelp and arch away from the water. It may have been hot out but the complete change in temperature shocked your body. John chuckled, took his boxers off and got in as well.

It took a couple tries but you eventually just went for it and stood directly under the stream of water, letting the cold water cool down your body. After a few minutes you let John cool down as well before standing closer to him. You looked him up and down and gave a whistle to show you liked what you saw. He couldn’t help it and rolled his eyes but still blushed a bit.

You brought your hands up and let your fingers travel all the way down John’s chest, caressing his stomach before grabbing his cock in your hand and jerking him off. He let out a grunt and grabbed the back of your head bringing you in for another kiss. This time it was very heated. Despite the cold water on your back you felt yourself begin to warm up. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip and you invited him in.

Your tongues rolled around one another as they explored. You moaned as you felt John’s own hand reach down and begin rubbing your clit. Both of you couldn’t keep your hands or lips off each other. He shifted the two of you without breaking the kiss so your back was against the shower wall. Your hand automatically went to grab the support bar the two of you had installed to hold yourself up as he grabbed one of your legs and lifted it up, hooking it around his hip.

At this angle it was more difficult to rub John’s cock but you continued anyway. He trailed his fingers from your clit to your opening and slipped a finger into your pussy. You threw your head back, breaking the kiss and cried out. He fingered you a couple times before bringing his fingers back to your clit, rubbing and repeating the process until he was able to easily fit two digits in.

John placed his forehead against yours and you both stared into each other’s eyes while touching one another. He towered over you making it so he was looking down at you while you looked up. You moaned his name as the familiar feeling of an orgasm started to grow within you. This continued on for a few moments before the thigh of the leg you were still standing on began to shake.

Grunts and groans were still leaving John’s lips as he finally removed his fingers from you and brought his arm to grab your ass and then lift you so both of your legs were wrapped around him and he was holding you. Never would you let anyone else do this. The act was so dangerous and usually not even worth the pain it could end in but you trusted him to not slip and drop you.

You bit your lip and brought your hand down to grab John’s cock and direct it inside of you. The second you got the angle right he thrusted forward, pushing deep into you. Your head went back and hit the wall a little harder than you meant to again and his head went right to your shoulder as he began a pace that had you crying out. The cold water wasn’t even registering as cold anymore as it cascaded down and onto both of your bodies.

One of your hands went to grab a fistful of his hair while the other hand went down to rub your own clit as he massaged your ass. You could hear him almost whimpering as he began to trail kisses all over your shoulder and neck, sucking occasionally to leave a deep and dark hickey.

“You feel so good.” John mumbled against your wet skin.

You bucked your hips slightly to meet his every time he thrusted forward. The tightening in your gut was growing stronger and his words turned you on even more.

“I love your big fucking cock, John.” You moaned out. “Especially when you’re so deep inside my pussy.”

Without stopping his hips he pulled back to look at you. The hunger in his eyes almost made you come right then and there.

“You have a mouth on you woman.” He got out through gritted teeth.

“Only for my strong, sexy man.”

John’s head dipped down and his mouth found your breasts as he licked and sucked on your nipples. His noises were starting to become full on moans as his hips started to move faster and harder. Your own hand increased in speed as you played with your clit exactly how you liked. You could tell he was close as his thrusts became more desperate and sloppy. He began to trail his tongue all the way from your nipple to your neck to your cheek where he left open mouthed kisses all over.

The hand you had in his hair came down to hook around John’s neck as you tried to bring his body closer to yours. Your breasts were pressed up against his chest and your bodies moved hastily together. The water continued to run and rain down on the both of you as your toes curled. He could tell you were about to orgasm based on your volume increasing and your pussy pulsing around him.

“You gonna come, baby?” He asked breathlessly.

“Fuck yes! Come in me, come with me!” You sobbed out.

John let out a strangled, long and low groan as he pulled your ass as close as he could to his pelvis, getting as deep as possible before spilling his seed. The sight and feeling helped you achieve yours as well. Your back arched off of the shower wall as you threw your other arm around his shoulder and hugged him close, digging your nails into his back. It was a full body orgasm as you felt the pleasure from your head to your toes.

You whined against John as his hips still bucked occasionally. Leaning up you claimed his lips with another kiss once more. The two of you softly moaning into each other's mouths as your body’s came down from the high of your orgasms. All that could be heard was the shower running and soft noises of pleasure as you locked lips. You pulled back but not without biting his bottom lip.

“You’re fucking fantastic.” You said while looking deep into his eyes. “I love you.”

At this John chuckled.

“I love you too.”

He helped you step down and stand as you were a little wobbly on your legs. Since you were already in the shower you decided to clean up.

The two of you took your time washing each other's hair and bodies while whispering words of love to one another. Even though the water was starting to get too cold you wished you could stay in just a little longer because you wanted to be close to him but you knew the moment you stepped out of the shower it wouldn’t be long for the heat to take effect once more. Finally finishing washing you both stepped out of the shower, dried off and redressed.

The minute you opened the bathroom door you were met by a wall of humid air. You groaned out, displeased and turned to look at John.

“I can’t survive in this heat.” You complained. “I wanna have sex again but in a comfy bed.”

He smiled at you and shook his head while laughing.

“Not too tired?”

You smirked at him.

“Definitely not. That was just a starter but oh well. Too hot for anything else, I guess.” Your tone was hinting at something.

Whatever it was, left John confused for a few moments before he realized what you were saying.

“Want me to book a hotel room?” He asked.

You nodded your head excitedly, swaying your hips as you walked up to him. Your hands came up to rub his biceps and smooth chest while you bit your lip.

“That way we can fuck nasty all day and night and not die of heatstroke. I wanna be able to barely walk when we’re done.” You winked at him.

This time John was the one who smirked. He grabbed your ass and gave you a deep kiss before breaking away and going to find his phone but not before calling out,

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble someday!”

You just laughed and simply called back,

“Oh I know. I’m hoping it does.”

[wandering-gambler]

Give Yourself Peace

John Wick x Fem!Reader

tags: NSFW, MDNI, John Wick 2 storyline, slightly inaccurate John Wick, strangers to lovers, awkward first meet, knight in shining muscle car type, slooooooooow burn [then we fast af], reader is a vet tech type, descent into darkness/Underworld, adventures in dog sitting, age gap, references to Hades/Persephone mythology, flirting over text [or in John's case, just conversing], clothes on sex, cowgirl position, panties to the side, sliiiight voyeurism [if you squint], not a condom in sight-just the vibes, fingering, multiple org*sms, feelings of grief, shower sex, slightly toxic John Wick [he doesn't mean to, he's grieving], pillow talk, use of g*ns, hostage negotiation, talk of animal de*th and instruments involved, Charon/Winston/Santino/Dog involvement, possible relationship talk, attraction to "bad" men, making out in a car, quickie sex

synopsis: You meet a man named John Wick when he's dropping off his dog "Gunner" for a check up. From there, it's a slippery slope into a new world.

wc: 19. 7 k 😮‍💨

a/n: okayyy, yes, i did write this before finishing that one River Ward fic but this idea took me by storm in the dead of night. No I was not listening to my River Ward playlist when I thought of this, jeez what's with the third degree? my computer is actually trying to die on itself as i type this rn

You raised a brow at the man entering the clinic, wearing a red-stained dress shirt and tattered suit jacket.

"Hi," he began, walking up to the front counter as you straightened up before him.

"Hi," you repeated, meeting his dark eyes and internally wincing at the cuts on his face.

He was stoic, un-moving as he braced a hand on the counter. But his lips curled slightly in a smile. His hand slid, his forearm bracing the counter as he relaxed.

"Hi," he said again, this time his deep voice echoing through you. You couldn't help but return his polite smile, edging up on your toes to finally look down at his pet.

"Who do we have here?" You asked down at the beautiful dark gray pittie. The dog sat, tilting his head at you and you melted an inch staring into his cute light brown eyes.

"This is..." the man looked down at his dog and tilted his head with a loss of words. You raised a brow at him, waiting as he turned to look at you again with a slightly defeated look. "Gunner."

You huffed an amused air from your nose. "Cute, he looks like a Gunner."

The man nodded as you rounded the counter and took a careful knee before the pittie. "Is he friendly?"

"Absolutely." He barely managed to answer as the dog turned in the direction of you and started nuzzling into you.

His paws pattered the floor, stepping further into you and begging to be pet. You obliged, cooing at the attention-seeking pup, patting at his round body and scratching behind his ears.

You smooched at him, showering praise at this stranger's dog for a minute then looked up at the stranger himself. He was propped up on the counter, watching you love on his pet, with what you recognized as blood on his dress shirt.

"And is Gunner's owner friendly?" You cooed at Gunner, holding the dog's face in your hands to smush his cheeks.

The stranger scoffed, his lips curling in a wry grin before answering: "Gunner thinks so."

Your stomach fluttered at the stranger speaking, though you weren't sure if it was an instance of fight or flight. Meeting the stranger's dark eyes again, you quirked your mouth to the side.

"Does Gunner's owner have a name?" You asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth at the last moment.

"He does," the stranger answered as you slowly stood up from your place. His hand extended out for you to take, and you noticed his knuckles tattered with blood and swelling. "John."

You ignored whatever warning pang was rushing through your body as he introduced himself. Your hand reached out to grab his, minding your grip to not bring him pain. When you uttered your name, his smile only grew, finding himself pushing upright to tower over you.

"Nice to meet you." John said, his voice straining a bit.

"Same to you," you said, giving his hand a polite shake before dropping it and returning to your paperwork. "What're you bringing Gunner in for today?"

You stood outside of the clinic, circling through your ring of keys to find the one for your door. It never failed, with how many keys you had, it was always the last one you expected.

You bounced on one foot to keep yourself alert, filing through your keys in the unexpectedly cool night. You were already running late to meet up with friends and now you were battling your stomach rumbling.

As you were nearing the end of your key leash, you heard a few whistles from behind you. A cold ice jutted down your back, making your insides become rigid with the thought of being watched.

Still, you ignored it as best at you could, pretending to not hear whatever calls were over your shoulder. Your bouncing foot quickened, hoping you had found your out before whatever approached you.

With the final key try, you managed to lock the door and turn in the direction of your car only to be stopped by two tall men stood before you.

You excused yourself, backing away from them only to turn around to find two more men behind you. Staring at the men surrounding you, you glanced sideways into the street and stepped out.

"Where you goin' sweetheart?" One of the men called after you.

You held the strap of your bag tighter on your shoulder, your senses heightened as you heard the combined steps of the men crossing into the street.

You picked up your pace, scanning down both ways of the road with minimal cars around, only for their steps to heighten just the same. The rigid gulp that lodged in your throat was now cementing, your heart racing as you found yourself running across the street and onto the opposite sidewalk.

Your vision tunneled as you focused on getting away, unsure of what would happen if the strange men caught up to you. Turning down the perpendicular street, you barely glanced behind you as a car pulled up next to you.

The door swung open, over half of the curb, and you were almost stopped by it but managed around it. Looking at the car, you cautiously peered from a distance to see a slightly more familiar face than the strangers following you.

"Come on, I'll drive you to your car," John offered, his mannerisms unbothered and cool.

You looked behind you at the group of men now turning the corner after you. With another glance into the car, you saw Gunner and opted to take a chance with the slightly better devil you knew.

Climbing in, you shut the door quickly and looked over your shoulder at the goons left in the wake. You turned around to John, ready to share your gratitude but opted to catch your breath first.

You wheezed, holding the dash of the dark muscle car, and held your free hand to your chest. The instant adrenaline rush through your body was now wracking your heart, making your eyes water though you were unscathed.

"Are you alright?" John asked, one hand draped on the steering wheel and his other carefully cradling the gear shift.

You overly nodded, blinking away the mist of tears while your mind started to race with the horrific possibilities of what could've happened.

"T-thank you," you choked out, bringing your eyes away from John's dash to look at him. "I-I..."

John glanced over at you but said nothing else, only nodded in acknowledgement before changing the subject. "Your car's nearby?"

You nodded again, finally peeling yourself to sit back in the leather seat. You admired it for a moment, luxuriated by the curve and plush, but were interrupted by Gunner's wet nose to your ear.

You giggled, shrugging a shoulder up to get the dog to stop then reaching a hand back to pat his head. "Sweet boy."

John smirked dryly at your comment, slowing down to scan the two parking lots on either side of the street. "Here?"

You nodded, pointing to the right side of the street to your little rinky-dink car. "That's me."

You expected John to laugh at it, seeing as his car could literally drive circles around yours. But he didn't, only pulled into the lot and braked in front of it.

"Volvo's are a classic," he commented, gearing his car to remain stationary. He shifted slightly in his seat to face you.

You turned to do the same, noticing that he'd probably gone home to clean up and change; seeing as he was in a cleaner shirt, the blood on his knuckles nonexistent.

"Have a good night, okay?" He offered, meeting your eyes.

The adrenaline in your body pooled in that moment, making you feel jittery though you were pin still. You nodded again, wondering if you were nodding too much.

"Thanks. And thanks again for the ride, I appreciate it," you said quickly, unsure why your nerves were acting up now.

"Yeah," John drew out, looking at the back of his car, past Gunner and through the back windshield. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded again, noting that you'd have to force something out. "Y-yeah, of course. I just don't know what their deal was. I'll be fine."

John's eyes skirted back to you, taking in your shaken demeanor with a once-over. "If you want, I could give you my number. In case it happens again."

He didn't want to mention how fast he'd be to escort you, but he was aware of his speed.

You held your hands in your lap, glanced down at them then back. "S-sure, it wouldn't hurt."

John watched as you carefully retrieved your phone and nervously unlocked it; turning the bright screen to him, he cradled the device and tenderly put his phone number in then turned it back to you.

You looked at him from your screen then back and saved it to contacts. "Thanks."

John said nothing else, only nodded; you gathered yourself, pulling your keys from your bag and opening the door to get out.

"Bye Gunner," you offered to the dog, reaching to pat his head. "Good night, John."

You climbed out of the car, tenderly shutting the door after yourself as John offered a polite wave through the front windshield. He geared his muscle car in reverse, throwing his arm behind the passenger seat to look behind and turn back onto the road.

You stood in the silence, watching as John drove off with your adrenaline in tow. Your heart pattered with a new sense, unsure of what to call it, but you stashed it away to rush to your car.

You found yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, in the middle of the night. Deliciously buzzed by two cocktails, you replayed the moments of the days events.

Hot stoic man walks in, hot stoic man has a dog, hot stoic man saves you from not-so-good guys, hot stoic man makes you feel safe.

You blinked slowly, your phone clutched in your hand while you tried to fall asleep. In a shock of embarrassment and a little confidence, you launched yourself upright and swiped your phone open.

Navigating through your phone, you managed to pause at the draft stage of sending John a text.

-Thanks so much againn for saving me tonight

You stared at your message for a moment, wondering if you should add more but decided against it at the last moment. You watched as the bubble popped up at the beginning of the thread, with the small status of the message as 'delivered'.

You sat still for a moment, your eyes threatening to close but in a long blink, your message went from 'delivered' to 'read'.

You froze, a new warmth starting from the inside of your chest, as your phone flopped onto the bed before you. You barely had the second to think of sending a 'i'm so sorry' text at realizing how late it was.

John: Is that what that was? I thought it was a friendly ride

He hadn't been able to sleep, finding himself at the Continental bar with 'Gunner' at his feet. John fingered around the rim of his glass, expecting the whiskey to dull his nerves but found himself brought back by your text.

You grinned dumbly at his response, snickering to yourself before gearing up your response.

-You're right. Thank you for the friendly ride to my car

You stared long at this response, wondering if did any good for the conversation. If this was even a conversation. You sent it anyways, but added further.

-I'm just thankful you were there when you were

John stared at his phone, glass cradled against his bottom lip as he stared at the messages that came in. His heart cinched for a moment, wondering if he was taking it too far. But it was a simple text exchange, nothing more.

John: I am too. Good night.

He paused in his message, feeling it to be too curt. You were just sharing your gratitude, nothing more. John understood, having felt the similar way of feeling cornered.

"Having a nightcap, are we?" Winston asked, sidling up behind John's seat.

"Winston," John stated.

"Jonathan," Winston offered back, pulling a chair open and sitting down. "I'd have expected you to be in bed already. Preparing for your long trip."

John glanced down at his phone, the open conversation between the two of you left on his end. "Yeah, but what can I say? Nerves got to me."

Winston quirked a brow in John's direction, tilting his head slightly at the sight of his phone upright. "There's no such thing as nerves with you."

John took a sip of his whiskey, letting it be his pause before he smacked his lips in appreciation.

"What is it?" Winston asked, undoing his suit jacket button.

John set his glass down on the bar and circled it under his fingers. "There's a girl."

"A girl?" Winston repeated, raising his eyebrows in slight surprise. "I fear I've heard that before."

John folded his lips together as he nodded, knowing that he'd said it a long time ago. "Yeah."

Winston took John's response with a purse of his lips, a tilt of his head. "So there's a girl."

"A woman," John corrected, turning his head in Winston's direction but not meeting his friend's eyes. "And I want to keep her safe."

"Then it's best not to interfere," Winston offered without a beat missed.

John found himself agreeing, but still opened his mouth. "I can't do that."

Winston's eyes steadied on John's stoic face, watching as his dark eyes finally rose to meet his. The older gentleman opened his mouth in a soft 'ah' then sucked his teeth in consolation.

"What're we going to do, then?" Winston asked, straightening up to the bar and raising his hand in a silent order to the bartender.

John picked up his glass again, sloshed the diminishing liquid around then pursed out a hard air. "I have an idea."

You managed to stretch yourself out at the foot end of your bed, holding your bright phone before your face while you tried to hold off of sleep.

There was no reason for John to respond back to you, especially with the time. You imagined that you had woken up this poor, tired man with diathesis just hours after getting home.

And you groaned in your sleep, feeling awful. With your next minute spurt of energy, you'd apologize to him for waking him up so late.

However, the buzz of your phone steeled you awake. You blinked at the bright screen before your face, eyes focusing on the message you received.

John: I am too. I know this is sudden, but would you like to get breakfast?

In the misty morning, you stood on the curb in front of your apartment building under your umbrella. You were patiently waiting for John to show up to take you to breakfast, hoping that it was the Greek diner just a few blocks from your job.

After a few moments, you expected a text from him saying you two would have to reschedule. It was only a matter a time, something you assumed was in the New York air. Plans were never fulfilled, always to be rescheduled.

Your inner plight was paused by the black, unmarked car that pulled up before you. Your reflection in the tinted windows was perplexed, taking a few steps back to assess your escape.

The driver side door opened and a well-dressed man wearing rimless glasses stood out and buttoned his jacket. You waited a moment, taking in the man's movements as he reached for the back door of the car.

"Miss, I've been sent by Mr. John Wick." The man announced, holding the back door open for you to get in.

You stared at the man for another moment in silence, pondering if you ever learned John's last name. You questioned if this man was trustworthy, even though he gave no reason to not be.

"Okay..." you drew out, looking both ways down the empty sidewalk before stepping cautiously towards the car. You folded your umbrella, setting it on the car floor.

You reluctantly climbed in, your nerves raising on their ends as you sat down and buckled your seatbelt behind the driver seat.

The driver smiled politely at you, shutting the door firmly before unbuttoning his suit jacket and climbing into the driver seat again.

He adjusted his mirror, buckled his seatbelt then geared the car into drive and turned on his veering signal. You held your hands in your lap, letting your bag slide to the empty space next to you.

"How do you know John?" You asked, attempted to fill the silence and calm your nerves.

The driver glanced back in his mirror after veering back onto the street, meeting your eyes with his polite smile reaching his gaze.

"Mr. Wick is a regular guest at my hotel." He offered, which didn't ease you very much.

You grinned cheaply at the driver, then let it drop. "Oh, of course."

You assumed, by John's paperwork for Gunner, that he lived nearby. You turned to look out of the tinted window, trying to map the area you were driving into.

The driver continued, "I am the concierge of the Continental. Mr. Wick has done a lot of work for my hotel."

Your raised your brows at that, glancing in the direction of the rearview mirror to meet the driver's eyes.

"My name is Charon," he finally introduced himself, hitting his turn signal down a caddy-corner street before stopping at the corner before sleek, marble stairs up to ornate glass doors. "Mr. Wick will see you inside."

You flinched as your door opened with a bellhop standing quietly on the sidewalk. Charon nodded after you, with you unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag and umbrella.

You stood under the bright awning of the hotel as the bellhop shut the door, leaving Charon to drive around the curb to park the car. You held your umbrella under your arm awkwardly, righting the strap of your bag as you took in the darkening sky of the morning.

"Miss," the bellhop instructed, holding his crisp gloved hand in the direction of the dry stairs.

You politely smiled, then walked up to the front door only to be greeted by yet another bellhop. Maybe you should've stopped when you got out of the car, feeling that each step you took brought the warning pangs back.

It felt like a distracted descent, the quiet luxury and decadence of the hotel drawing you in though it felt hostile just the same. The bellhop at the door guided you in the direction of the seating area, where patrons were gathered at white tablecloth tables in front of floor-to-ceiling windows to enjoy their breakfast.

Your heart continued to race as you walked through the lobby and into the seating area, feeling particularly under dressed compared to everyone else around you.

John sat at the table, with Gunner sat next to him, sipping at his black coffee. His eyes were trained at the doorway, glancing at his watch to track how much time he had left to spend in your presence.

Your eyes scanned the room before finally stopping at John. He was dressed in a cleaner suit, his hair combed away from his face and drinking coffee.

He paused in his drink, almost rushing to stand as he rounded the table to pull out your seat. You rested your umbrella on the arm of your chair then sat down, looking up at him with a smirk.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" You asked, allowing John to aid your seat under the table.

"N-nothing," John said, reaching to smooth down his hair as he sat down. "Just wanted to talk."

Your smirk turned into a smile, sitting up straight as if trying to perform for the hotel itself. John breathed in deeply, taking in your demeanor before calling the waiter over.

"Would you like some coffee?" John asked.

You nodded, holding your hands in your lap only for them to be occupied by Gunner's fat snout. You grinned down at the pup, scratching behind his ears as the waiter approached with a pristine cup, pouring into it with a shining french press.

"You know, when I was imagining what you did, I never imagined it was tied to this," you commented as the waiter set your cup down before you, then offered a fresh cream pitcher to the table.

John quirked a brow in your direction, taking another sip to punctuate his next words carefully. "You were imagining what I do?"

You gulped and paused, realizing that you had said your inside thought out loud. "I mean, I do for a lot of people. Mostly just walking by," you sheepishly offered in reason.

Staring across the table at this stoic man, you were reminded of staying up even later after you finally told him good night, picturing his face as your hand rested on your chest.

John gave away nothing, his eyes still while he mapped the soft expression on your face. He bit inside his lip noting the minute flush of your cheeks, how you shifted in your chair.

He scoffed in amusement, letting your excuse slide. "What did you think I did?"

You shrugged, reaching for the cream and pouring it into your coffee cup. You sprinkled in sugar from the decor bowl in the center, then used your own spoon to stir it together.

"Your paperwork said 'retired'," you began, another internal strike with bringing up your interested reading of his and Gunner's papers. "I thought you were maybe ex-military."

John's smirk lifted. "Something like that."

He leaned back in his chair, not wanting to puff his chest in pride. He had to remind himself that this was temporary again, the mantra in his head repeating over and over.

"Have you always wanted to work with animals?" John asked, deflecting the conversation from digging any deeper.

You remembered Gunner's head in your hands, looking down at your lap to playfully mush his face. "Kind of. I love seeing all of their sweet faces. I'd hate to see them in pain though, so it's the best and worst at once."

John couldn't help his trained stare on you, as you bowed your head to pet and praise at Gunner. He knew he was taking things in an odd direction, but he thought that it'd keep both of you safe at once.

"So, that's part of the reason I asked you here." John added, sitting upright as his hand braced the table. "I'm going out of town for work, about three days, and was wondering if you could watch Gunner for me."

You raised your head, immediately meeting John's eyes. "You want to leave him with me?" You metered your question, though you were excited for the opportunity to watch such a sweet dog.

That, and maybe you wanted to do the hot stoic man a favor. Whatever that was, your heart fluttered at the thought of doing what John asked. Even though you didn't know anything about him, even though he came in looking dangerous and was now portraying a clean slate.

It felt that he was the bright sliver in the imposing building, even though it was all cast in the rainy shadows. You were confused, your head almost done in by your survival bells ringing though you were still approaching the 'yes'.

John nodded. "Yeah, but here."

You leaned forward, unsure if you heard him correctly. While you hadn't thought of what your landlord would say about bringing pets back to your place.

John spared a chuckle at you, genuinely amused by your response. With a shrug of his shoulder, he leaned back again.

"I received a comp for my room, so I'd like for you and him to stay."

You stammered, freezing to think of what to say before shaking your head. Your eyes darted around the large darkly painted walls, ornate paintings and decorations nothing to what you were accustomed to.

"John, I mean..." you weren't sure what to say, knowing this wasn't an invitation to stay with him. "That's very generous."

His face softened, dropping his hand from the table to tilt his head at you. "Please. You'd be doing me a big favor."

Your mouth opened to argue him further, but John's expression was un-moving. He was still stoic, no indication that his offer had strings attached. Even with the atmosphere of the place itself, you found yourself caving.

"It's just a few days, right?" You reassured him, and yourself, by asking.

John's face broke, finding himself smiling again. His cheeks were beginning to ache, realizing that it'd been a while since he smiled so long.

"Yeah, of course. And they have in-house breakfast and dinner, a transit service that you can use to get to work." John noted, hoping that you'd take advantage of it all just to keep you safe.

"I can use it to go to work too?" You repeated, looking down at Gunner than back at his owner. "Can I take him to work with me?'

John's nose scrunched. "If you want, but I'm sure Charon would be able to check in on him when you're gone."

You nodded, looking down at Gunner again before reaching to sanitize your hands. "I think I can do that."

"Good," John said, pulling the menu up slightly to glaze over the menu. His eyes glanced to his wristwatch, knowing that he was losing time to make it to his flight.

Still, he made no quick effort to speed up his breakfast with you. You looked at the menu on the table, your mouth watering at the options available. Of course they were were gourmet, nothing short of the place itself.

You looked up from the edge of the menu, taking in more of this stranger's presence before speaking up. "What was the other reason?"

John froze for a moment, unfortunately caught off-guard by your question. His eyes still scanned the menu, trying to keep his expression at a minimum though his mind was now doubling back on his words.

He wryly smirked as he finally drew his eyes up to meet yours. "Just wanted to check in from last night."

John stood awkwardly before the front door of the Continental, wondering what the polite way to depart from you was. You stood before him, having to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes. He was taller than you remembered, though you were taking him in while on your knees petting his dog.

"I have to go," John offered, reaching his hand out to brace your shoulder. "I'll let you know when I land."

You smiled, nodded. "Okay, and we'll be here. I hope you have safe travels."

John squeezed tenderly at your shoulder, feeling how fragile you were under the weight of his hand. He felt a soft weight off of his mind, knowing that the Continental was a steel trap for any unwanted guests.

His smile softened, dropping his hand to pet Gunner's head. "Good dog. Behave."

And at that, you watched John leave, raising your hand to wave after him before turning to Gunner.

"Your daddy's gone," you pouted, reaching to pat his thick back. "I guess we should get you upstairs."

"Allow me to escort you," Charon chimed in, silently approaching you from behind.

You flinched, sucking in a harsh air between your teeth. Charon offered an apologetic look to you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"My apologies, Miss. Allow me to escort you and Mr. Gunner upstairs," he offered again, waiting for you to regain yourself.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, shifting your umbrella under your arm then waved for Charon to lead. He carefully reached his hand out to take your umbrella, holding it as he led you to the elevator then handed it off to one of the bellhops.

"That is the Miss's. Please do not get them confused." Charon stated, calling the elevator button then holding his hand out for you and Gunner to board first.

Inside, Charon hit the 8th floor button, the antique number lever slowly raising from its resting place as the elevator lifted.

"So, you know John well?" You asked, unable to help yourself.

Charon lifted his chin, looking over his shoulder to you. He offered his tight smile, the same politeness as before. "I'd say so."

You nodded, mentally chewing on his short answer before thinking of another question. "How long has he worked for the hotel?"

Charon's lips changed into a smirk, noting your inquisitive nature. "Approximately 20 years."

Your eyebrows raised then, realizing that John had been working around the time you got your first pet. You folded your lips together, feeling your heart flutter while trying to decipher what that meant.

"Oh, so how long have you worked for the hotel?"

Your curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, each bit you were fed only bringing up more. The further you got from the ground level, the lighter you felt away from the depths.

Whatever darkness was harnessed in the lobby, the foreboding rattling snake vibe it gave, did not reach the upper levels. The elevator opened to the ornate, older decorated walls of the hotel.

The floors were carpeted in a sleek line design, the wallpaper an almost unnoticeable fleur design.

"Long enough," Charon said, chuckling at his own joke.

You spat out an amused air, following the concierge to the room. He stopped at the room at the end of the hallway, fishing into his suit jacket to retrieve the key.

Charon turned the lock, propping open the door for you to enter. You paused just inside the room, taken over by the view of the city from wide windows at the crest of the room.

The ornate decor was not scrimped in the room, seeing through the carved accent wall before walking around it. Gunner traipsed through the room, jumping onto the crisp white sheets of the large bed and sighing like he'd had a rough day.

You looked to Charon, who nodded into the room for you to take it in. You took your time walking through the hotel room, taken aback at the quality. Sure, you'd been in nice hotels before, having stayed in some with accrued loyalty points.

But this felt like a new feeling. It was strange, feeling swayed by the elegance of this hotel being used for you, to watch a pup that didn't seem swayed either way.

Pausing at the wet bar, you wanted to pull out your phone to take a picture just to show your appreciation for John's minimal effort. But looking back at Charon, he straightened his lips and exited the room.

When he left, you rushed to the window to look out at the city. Even with loyalty points, it never bought anything like this. You couldn't help yourself, pulling out your phone to take an overhead view of the city before setting your bag down on the accent table behind you.

You rushed around the room, looking at the other cool parts of the triangle-shaped room. Gunner was unfazed on the bed, resting his head down with a groan.

You had to stop yourself in the bathroom, gasping at the oversized mirror with the bright light inlaid inside the reflective surface. Watching such a good boy was not worth this treatment.

Still, you took a picture of yourself in the mirror, scrunching your nose and sent both to John at once.

-Are you sure about this?? Is there something you're leaving out?

John boarded his charter, retrieving his phone as it vibrated in his pocket. The smile on his lips was subconscious, seeing that you'd messaged him.

Opening his phone, he chuckled at the two photos you sent him. He read your message, finding himself lightened at the scrunch of your face in the mirror.

He paused before his seat, finding himself regretting boarding for the nth time since he left the hotel. John thought of what he would do if he went back, if you'd stay around and keep him company on the sacred grounds of the Continental.

John turned and sat, crossing his ankle over his thigh as he typed a response to you.

John: Oh, I did forget. He's a bed hog. And he likes to steal bacon off your plate. So watch out.

You sat on the bed, staring at the text thread between you and the stoic stranger. You smiled at his response, ready to send another text as soon as you retrieved it.

John: I made it to the plane. I'll let you know when I land. I can't thank you enough for this.

You nipped at your inside lip, wanting to thank him back for the outrageous accommodations. Wanting to thank him for breakfast. Wanting to thank him for his company.

-Okay, safe travels. I'd love to see where you're going.

John's smile remained, staring at your response as the ladder was pulled up and the engines turned on. He exited out your text thread, searching through his contacts to find another number.

"Jonathan," Winston answered on the third ring. He sat in the smoking lounge, with Charon approaching to report. "We have Persephone in the Underworld Palace."

John's jaw grit, attempting to skew the view of you having your own free will. You had the freedom to leave, he had to remind himself, though he wanted you to remain on the neutral ground.

"She showed me," John offered in response, feeling the palpable silence on the opposite end.

Winston and Charon shared a knowing look, with Charon raising his chin and checking his watch.

"Are you sure about this?" Winston asked.

John looked out of the small window to his right, sitting back in his seat as he thought of how long it'd take for him to return to the Continental grounds.

"It'll give me time to think of my next step," John said, reaching to buckle his seatbelt with one hand.

Winston sucked at his teeth, tilting his head in deep thought. "You're dangling her over the pond, Jonathan. Are you sure this is the safest thing you could think of?"

John pursed his lips, shutting his eyes for a deep breath. "I'll be done as soon as I can. I can figure it out from there."

Winston raised his brows in Charon's direction, who shook his head in response. "Safe travels."

Upon ending the call, Winston exhaled deeply and directed to Charon. "Make sure our young Miss and her companion are cared for. Don't allow her exit without escort."

Charon barely widened his eyes, pulling his hands behind his back, ready to execute his orders but Winston raised a finger. "And invite her to dinner on the roof. The four of us. For Jonathan's sake."

Charon nodded. "Of course, sir."

You stood in front of your closet, having been escorted back to your apartment by Charon and Gunner.

The concierge extended an invitation to you and Gunner to join the owner of the Continental for dinner. Apparently he was a close friend of John's and wanted to meet you, as it wasn't often John extended invitations to "outsiders".

You would definitely ask about that as you cycled through your clothes, wondering what dining with the manager fell under for dress code. Everything else was just thrown haphazardly to you weekender bag on your bed: clothes for work, some leggings for taking Gunner on walks, anything for comfort because you felt that you would step outside of the hotel room for anything other than work.

When your bag was packed with your toiletries tossed on top, you turned back to your closet to contemplate your dress code.

For a high-class hotel, you opted for a white long-sleeve dress with a built in silk bodice. It'd suffice, you shrugged, because it was your best dress in your closet. You paired it with your most comfortable flats and stuffed it all on top of your bag.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall then rushed out of the door, making sure everything was off in your apartment. You carefully took the stairs down to the front door, throwing it open to Charon carefully waiting outside of the car for your return.

Gunner poked his happy face out of the driver's side window, staring at other onlookers in silence. You shut the door firmly behind you, grabbing your key to lock it after you.

Charon straightened on his feet, opening the back door of the car while his other hand extended to grab your bag.

"You don't have to--" you tried to argue on holding onto your bag in the backseat, but Charon was firm in taking the straps of your bag.

In a fluid motion, he shut the door after you righted in the backseat then went around the back of the car to open the trunk. You glanced after him, seeing that he didn't linger behind and closed the trunk then returned to the driver's door.

Gunner moved over to the passenger seat, that window open as well, as Charon geared the car into driver and veered back onto the street.

"What's your manager like?" You asked.

Charon glanced in the rearview, his polite grin ever present in his eyes.

"Mr. Scott is an old-fashioned type. Cordial, gentlemanly, with a taste of finer things."

You pursed your lips, looking out of the front windshield, then Gunner. When you looked back at Charon, he was once again fixated at the mirror, expectant of your next question.

"Should I...shape up?" You asked, aware of every movement you were making at that point.

Charon chuckled again, which you were unsure if genuine or sardonic towards you. "I believe you will be fine, miss. I think that Mr. Scott will enjoy your company and questions."

Your lips flattened in a slightly embarrassed smile then turned back to the window. "I'll start thinking of more now."

John paused by the bar of the Rome Continental, steadying his nerves before his mission. He had to remind himself that it would be this would be the last.

Even with the taste of being back, John's mind flashed with the thought of you. He choked on his sip of whiskey, clearing his throat while he stared at the crystal in his hand. Helen.

His mind flashed with the thought of Helen. John blinked, remembering his ring and circling it on his finger. When he felt his chest begin to heave with a new wash of grief, he stifled it with a long pull of his whiskey.

Just as his phone buzzed on the bar. John set the crystal back down, staring at the notification of your message and remembering that he meant to inform you of his landing.

Opening his phone, John was greeted with a photo of you sat on the bed with Gunner sat beside you. You were dressed in a short white dress, the bodice reflecting soft light as you leaned over his dog and hugged his head against your chest.

-We're having dinner with Mr. Scott, hope you made it wherever safely.

John felt struck in his place, staring at the photo in the growing thread of your messages. His heart skipping a beat before he finally picked up his phone to respond.

John: I made it safely. Never knew Mr. Scott extended dinner invitations, you must be lucky.

He looked through his entirely empty photo gallery to share the photo of the Colosseum from his plane window. John sent the message, let his phone clatter to the bar again as he sat back in his chair.

The rushing thought of you instead of Helen made him go askew, knowing that it was wrong to do. He grit his teeth, shut his eyes to remember his late wife's smile and not yours.

This was not what he wanted to happen, hoping to keep you at an arms length but still close enough to be safe.

You stared at your phone as Gunner jumped down from the bed, reading and rereading John's message before staring at the crowded overview of Italy from his plane window.

You zoomed in on the photo, staring at the Colosseum as the flattest fixture amongst all the little buildings, all of it resembling a miniature map.

John pushed himself up from his chair, pocketing his phone as he left the room with determination. He wouldn't be distracted by any feelings, regardless of who they were for, tonight.

Charon knocked gingerly at the door, alerting Gunner to the noise. You slowly stood, straightening out your dress and stashing your phone in its pocket then met the concierge in the hallway.

"This way, miss," Charon stated, starting in the direction of the elevator as before.

Inside the elevator car, Charon turned over his shoulder to look at you. "That is an elegant dress. You look very nice."

You smiled, practically beamed and offered your thanks; you pulled your textured hair behind your shoulder then looked down to Gunner.

The elevator lurched to a slow stop at the top of the hotel. The doors slowly opened to a long hallway, decorated the same as the others, with double glass doors that led out to a concrete patio.

Charon held the door open for you and Gunner, allowing the two of you to step onto the hotel roof patio. The view of the city was surrounding half of the balcony, with a larger building blocking directly beside it.

Your eyes fixated on the black glass patio table, decorated with an ornate black runner and four chairs. At the head of the table, you acknowledged the older gentleman as he stood up.

He approached you carefully, allowing you to take in that he exuded opulence and class, noticing the gilded pocket square in his dark suit jacket.

"Bonsoir chérie," the gentleman offered, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips in a ghostly peck. "My name is Winston Scott, it is nice to meet you."

You smiled politely at him, tilting your head at Mr. Scott. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Scott."

Winston carefully dropped your hand, his face playfully scrunching in offense. "Nonsense, call me Winston."

Your smile twitched further genuine, forfeiting your nicety to agree. "Okay. It's nice to meet you, Winston."

Winston winked at you, then guided you to your seat at the other end of the table. "You look radiant in that dress. I can see how you caught John's eye."

You giggled nervously, watching the older man pull your chair back. Turning your back to him, you tucked your dress to the back of your legs then sat down as Winston aided your chair to the table.

Winston returned to his seat at the opposite end of the table just as Charon pulled a chair for Gunner to sit to your left then rounded to sit to your right.

You looked at the good boy sat at the table, waiting patiently with his mouth open. You couldn't help but snort at the image, thinking that you should've found him a bowtie so he could've fit in for the dress code.

As Winston sat down, he waved a hand to direct the waiter over to the table. A tall martini glass filled close to the brim with an orchid colored liquid. The liquid held a light shimmer as you shifted the glass closer to grab; your eyes narrowed, looking at the beaded garnish at the bottom in a clump of red seeds.

Just as Winston and Charon received their drinks, the hotel manager raised his glass. "Salud."

You took careful hold of the thin-stimmed glass and raised it from the table, repeating Winston's cheers before bringing the drink to your lips. It was bubbly and light, sweet and tart at once.

From the bottom of the glass, you watched the garnish break apart and you opened your lips to ingest a seed with a gulp. When you were satisfied with your sip, you rested the glass back on the table then savored the taste as the seed slipped down your throat.

"Good cocktail?" Winston asked, smacking his teeth to savor his martini.

You nodded, shifting the glass to your left. "Is that cherry? Almost a shirley temple?'

Winston chuckled, shrugging a shoulder up before setting his glass down. "Close. It's pomegranate."

You hummed, letting the palette of the drink reignite on your tongue with that new knowledge. Charon looked over to Winston, sparing a slightly amused shake of his head.

Winston shrugged fully then, entertained by his own theme. "What is it you do, my dear?"

You straightened in your seat, looking over to Gunner enjoying his lap bowl of water then at Winston. "I work for a vet clinic, very small. That's actually how I met John."

Saying it aloud and remembering the timeline, your mind rushed with how fast things moved. You blinked slowly, your heart stumbling in your chest at remembering John a day ago compared to now.

Winston raised his brows: "Oh?"

You nodded and continued. "He brought in Mr. Gunner here for a check-up."

You reached to pat Gunner's head and he panted happily in your direction. Another soft wave of shock went through you, remembering what he looked like when he came into your clinic.

He should've been off-putting, and yet...

Winston tilted his chin, pursing his lips in intrigue. "Gunner, huh?"

You almost ignored Winston's comment, meeting his interested gaze from across the table.

"And he drove me to my car that night," you added finally, remembering with the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You had a nightmare about those men last night, one only fought off by your stoic man in a muscle car. Tightening your jaw, you reached for your drink and wet your lips again.

"Hmm," Winston offered after a moment, turning to Charon for any input.

The concierge was quiet, his own lips pursed in slight interest. Winston smirked waywardly, straightening up to brace his elbows against the table.

He carded his fingers before his mouth, staring across the table at you and wondering what it was that made John choose you.

"Jonathan always has had a soft spot," Winston said after another beat of silence.

You couldn't help your grin again, hearing John's full name. You imagined him as a younger Jonathan, introducing himself as such and Winston never letting it go.

"How long have you known John?" You asked, replacing your glass back to the table.

You realized you were dependent on your drink, noting the glass close to finished. All the garnish was sneakily slipped down with the liquid, leaving the sparkling drink to reflect the encroaching moonlight.

The patio overlights turned on, banishing the darkness and shadows from the area. Your nerves, charged since entering this place, were now directed to performing for John's cohorts.

Not that you needed their approval, you wanted to prove to yourself your etiquette. The nervous inkling in the back of your head was growing louder over the lush warmth, telling you that Winston and Charon would report back to John with their findings.

And you sat back in your chair to come to terms with why you cared. You did like John, but bit your tongue. There was no reason to go forth and ruin something as innocent as a friendship.

Winston chuckled, dropping his hands to the arms of his chair. "Since...he was a young man. Over twenty years, at this point."

You hummed, raising your brows as you looked between the two men across from you. You almost wanted to ask how old John was, the thought making you giggle behind your fingers.

"So a long time, then. Doesn't show for you, Winston." You commented, smirking playfully across the table at the older gentleman.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear," Winston offered, lifting his glass to you and taking another sip.

With that, dinner was served and a plate was placed carefully before you. The seasoned smell of the marsala tickled under your nose and made your stomach engorge with hunger.

The sweet liquor was only making it worse, opening your mouth to drool at the elegant layout of your plate. You glanced over to Gunner, who was fed steak tips on a plate and heartily cleaned his bowl.

Your eyes dragged across the table, to see Charon and Winston staring at you in wait. You smiled politely, allowing the waiter to set a black cloth napkin on your lap before stepping back.

You thanked him, picking up your fork and knife to inspect them a moment before cutting into your chicken. The echo of silverware followed, with Charon and Winston cutting into their food and eating in silence.

You eagerly wanted to call John to talk about this dinner afterwards, but knew it would be better to wait for him to call first.

John sat down to catch his breath, exhausted after yet another night of fighting. Did he enjoy this? Sometimes he had to ask himself, seeing as how he kept going through it. He sat forward in his chair in the lobby, shuddering as adrenaline worked out of his system.

The longer he sat, the more pain that came onset. He winced as he sat back, feeling that he'd bruised a rib from falling through the Roman Continental window with Cassian. John slowly pushed himself up to his feet, approaching the front desk to request his passage home.

He went up to his room, returned back downstairs and awaited in the lobby for the first sign of daylight to make his way to the hotel.

In the meantime, John retrieved his phone and turned it on. When it cycled through, he expected a message from you.

He expected a message from you, especially after dinner. John thought of what awful stories Winston drummed up to entertain you without giving too much away. His top lip peeled back in an embarrassed scowl, already hearing Winston talk about a young Jonathan.

John thought of sending you a message, but thought of the time in New York. He wasn't even sure what he'd say to you. He wanted to ask about dinner.

So he did.

John: How was dinner with the infamous Mr. Scott?

You were escorted back to your hotel room floor as your phone vibrated in your skirt pocket. Gunner rushed up to the door of the hotel room, baring his teeth in a low growl as you stopped to grab your phone.

-Delicious, who knew Winston was such a gossip.

John raised his brows at his phone buzzing again, this time showing Winston calling him.

"Winston," John greeted, sitting back in his chair while his eyes fixated in the direction of the sunrise.

"Jonathan, she's a delightful little sprite. I am not surprised why you're taken with her," Winston offered, carefully taking his stride to the elevator after letting you be excused first.

"I'm sure you've entertained her," John offered, actively ignoring his mentor's comment while his stomach sank.

"She's great at listening, Charon said she was full of questions." Winston looked over his shoulder to his concierge, who shrugged. "Am I off-putting to questions, Jonathan?"

John noised in response, stashing a slight grin. "I wouldn't say that. Maybe Charon is more...approachable in general."

"That is why I hired him," Winston said, pushing the call button for the elevator. "Has she contacted you?"

John scrunched his mouth to keep from reacting, knowing that Winston could hear his lies. "Not yet. I'm sure she's had a long day."

Winston scoffed over the line, stepping into the elevator and motioning for Charon to hit the button for your room first. "I'm sure she has. She seems to fit here, in a sense."

John grit his jaw, stashing the sudden jolt of fear through him. "I'll be home tomorrow."

Winston quickly gave up, nodding at the line. "Bueno notte, Jonathan."

John pulled his phone from his ear and ended the call, receiving your text soon after.

Gunner stood on guard before your front door, nosing at the crack while you waited for Charon to arrive with your key. You stashed your phone again as Gunner wedged himself through the crack of the door then threw it open with a slew of heavy barks.

You ran in after him, narrowly missing a harsh shove from a dark-dressed figure. They attempted to push past you and outside, but you threw a knee out to connect with their gut.

You were a rattled mess as the person fell to the floor, their face covered in a hood and mask. Looking around the room as they tried to crawl away, you grabbed at one of the ornate vases at the entryway and threw it at their head.

Still, they moved and you stamped your foot onto their back as Charon turned the corner with Winston behind. You were frozen, putting more of your weight on the stranger's back as Charon finally assessed the situation and ran to the room.

"My dear, are you alright?" Winston asked, standing aside as Charon picked up the burglar and dragged him out of the room.

You stared fixated after the stranger, your body trembling as your breath was shortened. You heaved, unsure of what you were but aware that you once again could've been hurt.

That if Gunner wasn't around, you would've been attacked. You were stiff, even as Winston touched your arm.

"Come now, let's go downstairs, hmm?" Winston offered.

You barely nodded, feeling your eyes sting with the threat of tears, and Winston guided you to the elevator. Gunner followed suit, leaving Charon to clean up.

John: Let's hope its all good things. I'm leaving first thing in the morning. Let's do lunch.

You sat in the smoking lounge, curled up on the leather couch while Winston offered you a cup of espresso. He'd gone to his office and retrieved a decorative throw blanket to match the rest of the opulent hotel.

He carefully draped the cloth over your legs, allowing you to sit in stunned silence as he sat in the leather chair next to you.

Winston mapped your face, wanting to find the inside of the shock. He wondered if you would question why the person appeared, or for what. But when you gave off nothing, he gave up and sat back as he received a message about John Wick.

Followed by a number, with a lot of zeros. He stashed a gulp, straightening his chin as he glanced over to you again.

"I apologize, my dear, but I urgent business to attend to. Charon will be here with you."

You nodded, bringing the small cup up to your lips for a sip. The instant bitter brought you out of your flight mode, looking after Winston before Charon took his seat before you.

"W-what happened to that person?" you asked, never catching if that person was a man or a woman. You wanted to ask more, but were sure that no answers would help.

Charon sat tall and stiff in his chair. "I phoned the police and they have detained them at the station," he lied, though his face gave no indication.

You shuddered, looking down at your espresso then back. "Did they take anything?"

"No, miss. All of the hotel's belongings are accounted for. I can't say the same for yours, but we can assess that when we change your room."

You knitted your brows in concern. "You're moving me?"

Charon blinked and smiled politely. "If you wish, miss. We would like you to feel safe."

You looked back down, nodded in agreement to his statement. But you didn't feel that the room was tainted, unsure if it was tattered looking for something.

"Is...is the room still intact?" You asked, bringing the espresso cup to your lips again.

Charon nodded once. "It is no detriment to move. It would be the floor below."

The more you thought of it, the dark shadows of your room would be the same on any floor. The new room would only call for the next stranger to slither in. You shook your head.

"No, I'll be fine," you said quickly, setting your cup down as Gunner sighed, resting his head on your thigh. "He'll keep me safe."

Charon glanced to Gunner then back. "He is a good guard dog. He should be employed."

The night went on too long, with you stationed in the smoking lounge to nurse your espresso. Your nerves, despite the coffee, eventually calmed with Gunner finding his temporary bed on the leather couch.

Charon sat with you in silence, allowing you to regain yourself until you were ready. Finally, you patted Gunner's back, waking him then moved to stand.

You threw back Winston's throw on your arm, grabbing your empty espresso cup to return to the bar. Charon took the blanket from you, folding it as he walked you out of the lounge.

He handed off the blanket to the bellhop, leading you and Gunner to the elevator and escorting you upstairs to your room. It hadn't occurred to you how much time had passed, the smoking lounge offering no clock or windows to acknowledge it.

As the three of you ascended, and you found yourself lightening once again the further you got from the ground floor. The trudge back to your room was quiet, with a bellhop stood outside of your door.

"Please let us know of any missing items," Charon offered, holding his hand out for the bellhop to open the door. "If you have any concerns, do not hesitate to alert this kind gentleman."

You glanced to the bellhop, who stood astutely in the corner of the hallway. You looked to Charon and nodded. Charon opened your door and held the door for you to enter, and you took careful steps inside.

The room was untouched, with only the entryway vase missing. You sucked air between your teeth, hoping that John wouldn't be charged for the decoration missing. Charon handed off your room key, letting the door shut after you.

When the door was closed, you kicked off your flats then walked cautiously around the room. Every lamp in the area was turned on, leaving no shadows. You exhaled deeply and sat down on the bed.

You rested on your side, staring over at the bar of the room as Gunner jumped onto the bed behind you. The curtains were pulled to hide the windows, leaving you in the warm glow of the lights.

Slowly, you let the events of the day lull you away to sleep but not without a few startled jolts to double-check the room. Soon, you conceded and drifted off, curling into yourself to keep yourself safe.

You woke up with another jolt at the sudden brightness of the room. The lamps of your room were shut off, the curtains drawn back to show the bustling city and the sun bouncing off of the nearby bridge.

Your eyes curled around the room until you were frozen by the dark dressed figure at the side of your bed. Slowly, your eyes drew up to meet John's scraped face, his hair combed back his ears.

You broke then, rushing up from your place in bed to curl your arms around his neck. You shuddered into his shoulder, your bottom lip pouting as you shut your eyes.

John barely recognized how long he'd been watching you sleep, knowing that it was wrong to do. But he was gauging his next moves.

His attempt had done nothing to keep you safe; his eyes looked around the room, seeing it as a ruined castle. When you hugged him, he was shocked out of his thoughts.

John folded an arm around your waist, holding you against him but not with his full strength. He knew it was better to keep you at an arms' length.

He'd failed you and Gunner, leaving you both in the security of what he imagined as powerful but was now realizing less.

You squeezed closer to him, steadying your breath the more you held on. John shut his eyes to breathe you in, stiffening as he realized his action.

He turned his face into your neck, unable to control himself, and breathed against your skin. Your chest tightened, the warmth of his breath rolling down your body.

Slowly, you turned to meet his cheek, finding your mouth parting in a soft pant. John found himself pulled in further, turning to meet your mouth and lean in to kiss you.

Your hand raked up his neck to clutch the nape of his hair, barely letting the moment be taken as mistake, and kissed him feverishly.

John's hand slid down your back, over your hip to grab the back of your thigh and pull you further into him. His eyes squeezed shut, following the efforts of your lips before taking lead and slipping his tongue in.

You groaned into him, your other hand grabbing at the front of his suit jacket. John pushed down the dull pain in his body, letting all other thoughts take backseat as his lust took over.

Gunner whined, making both of you part in a soft pant. John dragged his eyes from you then to his dog, shaking his head once.

He guided his dog to the front door, opening it to the bellhop. "Would you mind taking him on a walk? I think I've got it from here."

The bellhop nodded, calling after Gunner as John lightly shooed his dog to follow him. After the two were down the hallway, John shut the door and locked it before returning to you.

You thought he'd have regained himself in the moments away, returning to your friendly charade before breaking for brunch. But John resumed at your lips, his hand clutching the back of your thigh before folding you across the bed.

You were overcome with his touch, hazy with the rush. Your hands found their way into his hair, the other at the buckle of his belt as you slowly followed his lead.

John bit back with a hiss, feeling your fingers fumble at his waist. His hand went to cradle your cheek, kiss you deeply, before retracting his hand to grab your wrist.

He slid your fingers further down his waist to acknowledge the urgent swell of his cock. Both of you parted from your kiss in shock; you glanced down your bodies as John stared down at you.

He was approaching an edge he'd never imagined again, his body alight with heat. You shifted up on your side, attempting to roll onto John. However, John's knee shifted onto the floor and turned at the foot of the bed, pulling you onto his lap as he faced the window.

You straddled his waist, your knees on the carpet as you looked down at your hand still rubbing his cock. John stared up at you, his eyes dragging down to acknowledge the open shoulders of your dress.

He carefully reached behind you, unzipping your dress to peel the top of your bodice down, revealing your breasts. You shuddered again, your chest heaving at the sudden cool of the room.

John leaned in to catch your lips again, guiding your hand to undo his belt and pants. The two of you shared a few desperate moans, finding yourselves drawn together.

He freed his cock with a part from your mouth. He attempted to find his words, to ask if this was okay for you two to do. John knew they were careening to something both unavoidable and difficult to walk back from.

You rested your forehead against his, sharing his breaths as you shifted closer. With a lick of your lips, you tasted him on you; you reached under the skirt of your dress, peeling your panties to the side before lining up and sinking down on John's bare cock.

His face was gorgeous as it broke, his brows knitted as his mouth pouted, as if he were about to cry from the feeling. You sighed deeply in his face, your eyes lulling at the slow pop of his hot cock head into your wet pussy.

Your hand found its way into the nape of his hair as you sank down on his length, tilting his head back to ghost your lips before his.

John's tattered knuckles braced your hips, following your direction down onto him. He hissed, letting a moan slip from his lips. Consequences be damned, John thought, rocking your hips into him before ducking his forehead to your shoulder.

You groaned, turning your head back to the ceiling and following his hands rocking you into him. The two of you paused in relief, feeling the heat build between your bodies.

John brought himself back with a peck to your collarbone, then another as he crossed over your chest then down timidly lap at your velvety breasts.

He chastised himself for thinking of squeezing you, hardening his touch and speed on you. John knew that he'd break you eventually, but he'd stave off his darkness for the time being.

You worked up the courage to pull off of his cock, turning to moan into John's ear as you did. You barely made it to his tip, finding your core begging for him again and sinking back down.

John groaned, tilting his head back against the bed to meet your gaze. His dark eyes were dangerous, dark pools yet enriching and inviting. You took hold of his shoulder, working up to a slow ride as you leaned into him.

John trembled, unable to blink as you rode him in the morning light. He was overwhelmed with infatuation, a sickening salacity the more he spent under you.

He was reactive by you, whimpering and twitching as you rode into him, kissed him breathless. John felt that he'd met his match, an unbeatable adversary though he never wanted to cross you.

The sun haloed around your body, making your skin golden in his presence. John came back to you again, hearing your moans heighten as you were brought closer to climax.

You found yourself grinning down at John, seeing his eyes focus back on you. Your hand went to his jaw, then combed through his hair before resting at his neck. "Did I lose you there?"

John spared a blissed-out grin, parting his lips to catch your kiss again. He'd never admit it.

You cried into his mouth, feeling within grasp for your undoing. John hissed and kissed further into you, his other hand reaching under your skirt to touch your clit.

You bent your back into him, panting into his mouth with a cry of his name to follow. You felt the brightness of the room begin to blind you as you approached the edge; your hips rocked a little firmer, trying to pull John overboard with you.

Finally, you broke with a loud moan, twitching on John's cock as he bucked further into you and climaxed. You writhed on him, your fingers clutching hard into the nape of his hair as you tried to catch your breath against his mouth.

"John," you cooed, pushing yourself further into his body to chase his warmth.

He grabbed at your shoulder, attempting to still you over him as your walls begged for his cum. John shut his eyes upon release, snapping back into his conscience and realizing his impulse.

When you regained a bit of yourself, you spared a few amused huffs, pulling upright to meet John's gaze. You watched as his lustful eyes draw back and you combed through his hair.

"Hi," you said, humming at the stoic man against you. "How was your trip?"

John did his best to smile, pulling your elbow in to kiss your bicep. He dragged his lips up to your shoulder and kissed again. "Could've been better."

He didn't want to ask too soon about your night, having already heard from Winston. John knew it was dangerous to return directly to you, but he had to be sure.

And now he knew that wasn't the only reason. The two of you stayed in place for some time, taking in each other. John glanced over your shoulder to the widespread window behind you, noticing a glint from across the roof.

He held you still, staring further as his eyes narrowed on the long barrel of a sniper. John stashed a frown, turning back to you to appreciate you.

He was sickened by himself, seeing you as his shield for the time being. John exhaled, reaching down to tap your butt playfully.

"Why don't we close the curtains, call in some breakfast?" He asked, fighting against his racing heart.

You bit at your bottom lip, slowly pulling off of John's cock with a whine before turning and pushing to your feet. You grabbed the ends of the curtains and pulled them tightly closed.

John deflated against the end of the bed, looking down his battered suit. He was taken aback at how you mounted him in such a disarray.

You reached to unzip the rest of your dress, but was met by John's lips on your shoulder. You shut your eyes, soothed by the warmth of his mouth.

He slipped his hands down your arms, shrugging your dress from your body and leaving you in your panties, bare in the front of the room.

John shrugged off his jacket then circled his arm around your waist to direct you back to bed. "Go on, I'm coming."

You followed his order, climbing onto the bed and peeling the comforter back. John pulled his belt from his pants, did the same for his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and dropping his pants.

He hurriedly undressed, though you never saw any effort. He moved intentionally towards you, resting a knee on the bed then the other as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back.

You stretched your arms out above your head, finding yourself directly under John. Your faces aligned, his eyes skirting over your face. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tempted at the corner of your mouth.

At the same time, his other hand circled around your stomach then down your hip before sliding his fingers into your wet pussy. You crooned, raising your hips to chase his touch and meet his body.

John kissed your chin, admiring the breaking on your face. He dragged his fingers in and out of you slowly, tracking every minute pinch and wain of your face.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, finding his words to not be his own.

John felt detached from himself, swirling a dark abyss of desire he hadn't thought of for a long time. You grabbed onto John's bicep, sucking in a breath between your teeth before moaning when his thumb folded against your clit.

"J-John," you stammered, your fingers clutching tighter as you found yourself fighting off another climax.

It was too late when you realized the bruises on his body, the wounds decorating his lean torso. Your mouth gaped with another croon, squeezing your eyes shut suddenly as you came on his fingers.

Warm rushes wracked through your body, causing you to roll further into John while you fought off the sight of his body being your undoing.

John's thumb at the corner of your mouth peeled back your bottom lip, flattening his finger along your gums. You pulled his hand further into your mouth to sensually suck at it before dragging it along your bottom teeth.

John was pulled further, the look in your eyes along with the feeling of your pussy around his fingers making it difficult to find pause. You licked the tip of John's thumb, dragged it down your body as he trailed his eyes after it.

His stomach sank then, his hand paused and flattened between your breasts. Staring back at him, as he felt your heart thrumming under his touch, was his wedding ring.

John's hand began to shake, staring at its placement against your body. You stared up at him, seeing that he was no longer meeting your eyes and was fixated at the placement of his hand.

He felt the room go askew, finding himself getting yanked out the abyss and washed ashore. John half-blinked, pulling his fingers out of you before climbing off of the bed and walking away to the shower.

You sat up on your elbow in John's wake, turning your head to watch him walk away. "John?"

You were unsure of what you did, if anything. But now, you were left bare. Righting yourself on the edge of the bed, you slowly followed after John into the bathroom.

John set his ring on the bathroom counter as he reached around the glass wall to turn on the shower head. He welcomed the silence for a moment, wanting to sieve through his thoughts as tangled as they were.

Stepping under the spray, John sighed and dropped his shoulders. He let the warm water roll over his body, drip down his hair as his muscles began to relax.

You stood at the door of the bathroom, watching John in silence before stepping up to the shower wall.

"Can I join you?" You asked softly, not looking up at him as if you'd done something wrong.

John waited a beat, shutting his eyes as he nodded under the rainfall spray. "Yeah."

You peeled your panties to the floor then stepped out of them and into the shower. You let the warm water dampen your hair, letting you slick it down between your shoulders as you turned your back to John.

The two of you shared the shower as if you were strangers still, the air palpable and dewy.

John raised his head and slicked his hair back, glancing over his shoulder to you. You wrung out your hair, turning under your arm to look at John and taking in his back tattoo.

You were taken in, turning around slowly to drag your eyes along his full back tattoo. You reached a finger out to touch at the center cross behind prayer hands.

John stiffened at your touch, his eyes overly blinking from the weight of the water on his lashes. You traced your finger around, noting the words between his shoulders without understanding what it meant.

"I was married before," John offered in the silent patter of the shower.

It was the least of what he wanted to say, his want for you and his feeling for his wife leaving him suspended in telling the truth. John swallowed, dropping his head to his side as you paused at bruise on his love handle.

"I still wear my wedding ring..." he admitted, his chest shaking for a moment, "it hurt to look at."

You paused dropping your head against his shoulder as your hand circled his side. "I'm sorry. You should've stopped me."

John straightened up then, turning around to face you. His tattered hands cradled your face, searching your eyes for an ounce of disdain towards him.

"I didn't want to stop..." John whispered, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. "I...don't want to stop."

You let your eyebrows screw up in confusion, wanting to know what this stranger wanted. Because with learning more about him, you remembered again that he was a stranger.

"I want you," he muttered against your lips, tilting your chin to peck your lips, "to make it stop hurting."

Your heart lurched into John, feeling that he was saying it wrong but not wanting to dwell on it. You let your attraction give him leeway, letting him take your mouth again and soothe away your doubts in an instant.

You bowed into him, quavering as his hands slipped down your neck, then shoulders and elbows; he took in the slippery feel of your skin, admired how you molded into him this way.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, circling his fingers down to your hips and around the small of your back. John felt the swirl draw him back in, the taste of your mouth sickly sweet.

He bit away from you, hissing between his teeth as he tried to dampen the muddy thoughts within him.

You held your hands at John's sides, opening your eyes to witness the turmoil on his face. Your own stomach turned, lifting on your toes to kiss him again.

John nipped your bottom lip, pulling back on his hold to turn you around to the shower wall. He felt his vision tunnel on you, dragging his hand down between your legs to greet your pussy with his wet fingers.

Your nipples graced the cold granite of the shower wall, bracing with a soft gasp before John's fingers slipped into you. You rested your forehead against the granite, unable to hold back the moan lodged in your throat.

Your shoulders worked back, spreading your legs to allow John's touch further. John flattened his hand on the granite next to your face, lining himself up behind you.

He pulled his fingers out, using his hand to stroke his strained cock. John bowed his head, guiding his length into you and groaning at the welcoming warmth of your walls.

His hand went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he attempted to level himself. Your nose smushed against the granite, your mouth gaped open as you panted against the hard shower wall.

Your hand reached back to touch John but he took your hand and crossed it behind your back. He pumped into you once, earning another noise from you.

When he withdrew, your walls begged at his return; he pumped in again, making your knees buckle slightly.

John bent forward, kissing at the back of your neck before nipping at your shoulder. You turned, squishing your cheek against the wall to watch John's lips migrate down your back.

Your other arm folded directly before your chest, allowing the dampened air to coagulate in your lungs. John was slow in his pace, metering his noise to hear you echo against the stone walls.

His free hand reached around to ghost his fingers over your clit, allowing himself to get lost in the clench of your walls. John's lips trailed over the back of your shoulders, baring his teeth to nip at your skin.

He was painfully aware of how much he wanted to hoard you, to keep you stashed in this room with him with no end in sight. John knew he'd be able to to protect you alone for how ever long you wanted to stay with him.

The closer you got your climax, the more John became infatuated. Every moan of his name, he was dragged further into you, ready to use his resilience for whatever means to please you.

He pulled you off of the wall, draping your body against his chest; John's hands slipped over your wet body, pushing you further into him as you finally came on his throbbing cock again.

John lost his control, ducking his face into your neck to mutter his praise.

You rested your head on John's lap, staring across the bed at the breakfast tray by his feet. You tried to make yourself small in his dress shirt, wanting to take up as much of his warmth as possible.

Brunch had encroached into lunch, the Continental eggs Benedict turned into a nice club sandwich and fries.

John wanted to remain in the solace of the room a bit longer, knowing that he'd have to leave and face his consequences. As long as you didn't have to, John would task himself to clean up his mess better than before just so you wouldn't suffer.

He folded the newspaper in his hands around to scan the inside pages as Gunner sniffed in the direction of John's abandoned club.

You reached out to grab a few fries from John's plate, dragging them across the white comforter for Gunner to take.

John flipped to the next page, disinterested in the sports section. "I saw that."

You side-eyed Gunner then glanced up at John. "No you didn't."

John shook his head, eyes lazily dragging over the fine print of the newspaper. He looked so comfortable in this state, how you imagined he spent his Sunday afternoons at home.

"How long were you married?" You asked, feeling the comfortable silence grind to a screeching halt. It had plagued you since he mentioned it and no matter how many times John made you cum to keep you quiet, the question still remained.

John's eyes glanced down at you, his face never moving from the direction of his newspaper. His chest tightened at the question, feeling his ring finger pulse when you asked.

He relaxed his shoulders, folding his newspaper haphazardly before resting his hand on your shoulder. You shifted in bed, propping your chin up on the tops of your folded arms; John's hand migrated to the middle of your back, admiring how good you looked in his dress shirt.

He praised the tailor's choice for a dark shirt, hiding the blood staina better. John thought of how dangerous his hand was, how many men he'd taken down with just them. And he was tenderly rubbing your back.

"Five years," he said after a few beats of quiet. John set the newspaper on his lap, holding it there with his hand.

You raised your head, shifting closer to John. The two of you were past the formality of tiptoeing hard subjects, you felt. At this point, you knew that there was two possibilities of this ending: in bitter tragedy or a new beginning for the both of you.

So you asked: "What's her name?"

"Helen," John said, turning his full face to you. He decided to get ahead of your line of questioning, to explain how you were both here now. "She died earlier this year. She told me..."

He was cinched then, imagining her handwriting on Daisy's kennel. John felt the pain bubble up again, seeing his wrongs. "That I needed to love something more than my car."

He chuckled mirthlessly, hiding a gulp that lodged in his throat at his last word. Your brows raised slightly, sitting up on your elbow.

You two were there yet and, while you knew that to be true, you wanted to get there. Hopefully, one day.

"That's why I got Gunner," John added, seeing your reaction and realizing another mistake.

The two of you let the collective sigh alleviate the room, allowing you back down to rest your head on John's thigh.

"I'm sorry for your loss," you offered, reaching your hand out to tenderly caress his bruised side.

John nodded, resuming his hand on your back. The two of you returned to your previous action, your eyes lulling with the temptation of sleep.

The questions were hard to wade through; John understood that if you were going to be around in the dark pond, you would soon learn about the very facade he put forth.

He cleared his throat, ready to admit his hard truths that he left behind; it would be easier for the both of you to leave the Underworld unscathed.

John's phone vibrated from the nightstand and he was tempted to silence it. The precarious bubble surrounding the three of you was already threatened, and John didn't want a call to break the tender surface.

He picked it up, realizing that it was a message from an unknown number. John stared at it, seeing that it was an attachment but made no moves to unlock his phone.

You heard your phone begin to vibrate, somewhere discarded in your dress skirt pocket. You groaned, rolling your head back and forth on your hands with the attempt to convince yourself that it was a text.

But then your ringtone began to chime. John heard it too, turning his head in the direction of it. His hand became heavier on your back, attempting to keep you in place.

"Hold that thought," you said, sitting up to kiss John before climbing out of bed.

John's eyes were trained on you, watching as you pulled his shirt to its full length, barely covering your bare ass. He watched intently as you bent, searching through your dress to find the offending phone.

You stood up, rolled your eyes at the Caller ID and answered to your coworker. "What's up?"

Her voice on the other end was slightly shaken, telling you that there was a puppy brought in that was hit by a car.

"I-I can't deal with putting him down, can you come in?"

You glanced over your shoulder to John and Gunner, both of them enough reason to stay in bed. John sat back again the headboard, draping his arm over it with the invitation for you to return to his side.

You groaned in annoyance, bouncing on one foot in the slightest of tantrums. "Can't you call someone else?"

"I-I tried, but one of them is at a Communion and the other is out of town."

You pouted, knowing that you being the single one in a vet clinic meant that you were left to do the dirtiest of work.

"I guess....I can be there within the hour." You forfeited, turned to John as you said it.

And just like that, John's bubble burst.

"You didn't have to drive me here," you said as you and John sat a red light.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, reaching over to rest his hand on your knee.

You scoffed, turning to John. "Because I know you've got to be tired from your travel. I could've gotten Charon to bring me."

You were appreciative of John driving you on such short notice, but you wanted to give him a little space. It still felt too fresh, whatever you had, and you didn't want to impose so much that he ended up pushing you away.

"Please, I'm a faster driver," John said with a grin as the light turned green. He let his foot of the brake, tempting his gas pedal as he tilted his head at you. "And I don't want you depending on Charon when I'm around."

You smiled, reaching over to touch the back of John's neck. You could get used to touching him, running your fingers through his hair or scratching his beard. But you were getting ahead of yourself.

"Thanks," you offered softly just as John pulled up on the curb in front of the clinic. "I'll call you when I'm done?"

John nodded, leaning into your hold as you kissed him. "Maybe we can do dinner?"

You laughed. "Hopefully it won't be that long, but we'll see."

You kissed him again, then a third time before you hummed against his lips knowing that you were on an urgent timeline. "Okay, okay. I'll see you in a bit."

You threw open your door and got out, carefully shutting the door of John's car. He bent across the center, offering a wave to you as you opened the door to the clinic and looked back a final time.

He watched you walk in, though his stomach dropped as the door shut behind you. Something felt wrong and his proven instinct was off.

John's phone buzzed again in his pants pocket and he geared his car to retrieve it. Another attachment sent by the unknown number, this time with a message to follow.

Unknown: Come out, John. We have something you want.

You looked around the clinic, seeing most of the offices shut down for the weekend but the light in the exam room on. You called after your coworker, flipping on the overhead lights in the lobby.

When you got no answer, you looked over your desk for paperwork then started towards the back room.

John reluctantly opened the message thread from the unknown number, his heart clenching at the first photo. Of you and him, from the view of the window earlier that morning.

Though you looked so beautiful on his lap, your dress exposing down your back in the morning light, John was chilled at the angle. The same position of the sniper that morning.

He looked after you, seeing that you'd disappeared further into the clinic, then went to the second photo. You, through the view of a porthole window, wearing the clothes you'd changed into. He noticed his own car from the glass door.

John shut off his car and threw his door open, haphazardly closing it before running after you into the clinic. He tapped his side, acknowledging his gun stashed in his waistband and drew it when he was inside.

He called after you, hearing no answer as he looked around the sterile, quiet clinic. John straightened up, holding his gun out as he continued stepping cautiously.

"Hello John," a voice responded from the double doors into the surgery room. "You've been a hard man to track down."

John grit his teeth hard enough to hear his jaw resound. His nostrils flared as he tried to level himself, knowing that he had to keep a strong front.

"I thought 7 million would've made you an easy target, but you're a smart man to hide."

"I wasn't hiding," John retorted, not allowing the comment to show him a coward.

He stepped up to the wall, trying to see into the bright room. John caught a glimpse of you, petrified against Santino's shoulder as his hand grasped your mouth.

You stared, bewildered through the small porthole window, catching a glimpse of John's face. You barely shook your head at him as Santino raised his gun to shoot out at the glass.

"Right," Santino continued, pointing the gun to your temple and making you panic, crying at the thought of his finger slipping. "You had gotten distracted. Which is dangerous in your line of work, you know that."

You gulped, quivering in the hostile man's hold. John righted himself against the wall, popping the clip to check his ammo. He took another careful breath, turning back in the direction of the window before ducking across to the other side.

"You could've tried getting out again, but you'd just end up owing somebody...again," Santino taunted, playfully tilting his gun about as he thought of it. "And then when the next wife dies along with the next sad pup, the cycle of John Wick would continue."

You whimpered, looking out and darting your eyes back and forth to find John anywhere. John couldn't find an answer, thinking more about what he was putting you through and what it would mean for him to stop.

If he could stop.

He didn't want to admit it, but Santino was right in a sense. John didn't want to keep owing people for the life he'd been luck to have once.

He especially didn't want to do it twice. Not that you weren't worth it. But danger seemed to lurk whether he was in or out.

"It wouldn't happen again," John said finally, after thinking for a moment. "I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her."

Santino tsked, turning the gun back to your head. "It's a little late for that. Look at where we are now."

John shut his eyes, coming to terms with his consequences once again. He carefully put the safety back on his gun and held it to his side.

"Fine," John said, pushing open the double doors. You cried from behind Santino's hand, incoherently begging for John to do anything else. "You're right."

Santino huffed amusedly through his nose then looked down at you. "You need something done, you do it yourself, eh?"

Santino turned the gun onto John, readying to shoot as you noticed the reflection of his pistol in something on the stainless steel table.

Looking down, you noticed a full syringe of clear liquid. You flicked your eyes back to John as he saw your eyes look away.

He barely nodded in your direction as Santino pulled back the hammer of his gun and readied to shoot John. "No hard feelings, John. Just avenging my sister."

At the same time, you felt his arm loosen around you and you took the opportunity to grab the syringe and stab it into Santino's neck.

Your fingers fumbled at the plunger, slowly dispensing half of the clear liquid into his blood stream. Santino grabbed the syringe with his free hand, taking his other to smack you away.

"Stupid bitch! This is men's business," Santino turned the gun on you and John called for his attention.

"Hey! You want to kill me. So kill me," John offered, raising his hands.

Santino narrowed his eyes at John, looking from him to you and back. "You're not...even going to try to beg me?"

John shook his head; you kicked at Santino's ankle, causing him to stumble then crawled after him to grab the syringe again. This time you righted yourself over Santino's body and stabbed the needle into his chest.

You hyperventilated, staring at the man as his eyes widened in fear. You trembled again with the plunger, releasing more liquid into his chest.

Looking over to John, you hoped he would find the words you couldn't. You didn't even understand what this was about, but you were caught in the middle of it.

John met your gaze, feeling his hands going cold at the thought of you getting hurt. The decision was still so muddy, but he was aware of where to start.

"Call it off," John said, reaching to grab Santino's gun and point it at the man. "Call the bounty off."

You turned back to the man, his hair wild as his eyes were twitching in disdain. "Why should I? You gonna kill me too?"

You stared at the plunger in his chest, your thumb on the weapon. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing your coworker dead in her puddle of blood along with the dog that Santino brought in to bait her.

"T-this is pentobarbital," you bluffed, nodding to the syringe in the man's chest. "There was enough in this syringe to kill you twice. But I've on-ly used ha-lf."

Your voice betrayed you in a moment, but you stared at this man under you as if he'd wronged you personally. And he kinda did. He ruined an almost idyllic morning by running egotistical games.

John withheld his surprise, glancing at your profile while you reasoned with this stranger.

"Call it off, and I can undo it," you lied, unsure if you could make such a promise.

"Bullshit," Santino spat at you, looking over to John. However, by the stone-cold look on John's face, he was inclined to believe you.

You straightened up and looked down your nose at this man, floundering to be let up but realizing a lack of options. Your cold thumb tempted at the plunger further.

"Y-you would feel it in your knees first. A dull pain that washes away when you can't feel your legs." You tried to narrate, reluctantly mapping out the process when you so wanted to forget it in pets.

"Your heart will start rushing soon, hoping to pump enough blood to circulate down to your toes, but then your fingers will lose feeling."

Santino gulped and you barely glanced to John as your brows knitted and your eyes watered. "Let's get your phone out before we get to that, because there's no turning back from there."

John watched in stunned silence, holding the gun pointed at Santino for any sudden movements towards you. Santino did as instructed, pulling his phone and typing in his code.

He dialed the number slowly, staring at you strong-handing the syringe. When it rang, he glanced over to John, unfazed.

"Pull the bounty for John WIck." He stated when he got on the phone. "Yes. Santino D'Antonio. 758042."

"Yes sir," the operator on the opposite end stated. The line was quiet for a moment and you held your breath. "Your bounty is rescinded. Is there anything else--"

You smacked the phone away from Santino before he could say anything else then leaned back for John to take the shot. He blinked in the flash moment, then aimed and shot Santino.

The splatter of his blood from his head decorated your face and you were sat in the shocked silence of the past few moments. Santino's dark phone lit up with a message.

Unknown: Bounty: John Wick rescinded. Disregard previous messages of subject.

You let go of the syringe, looking down at your cool trembling hands before you felt a pair of thick arms curl around you. John wasn't sure what else to do in the moment, knowing that nothing he could say would make up for it.

He pulled you up, held you close and swiped the blood from your cheeks. John rested his lips to the top of your head and kept you still when you tried to tremble.

He expected you to cry, ready to coax you down, but you were silent. Grasping at his shirt, you turned your face into him and held tight. Your breath slowly returned to normal, shutting your eyes to rid yourself of the sight of your coworker dead. This strange man dead.

John knew that what came next wouldn't be easy and he was dreading every minute of it.

You sat in the car with John as an unmarked black van pulled up in front of the clinic. Looking over at him, you expected John to get out but he only nodded in the direction of the clinic as the older gentleman stepped out of driver's side.

Without word, the man nodded and patted at the back doors of the unmarked van; the double doors opened and you jumped slightly at the men that followed out. Each of them was dressed in dark clothing, two of them holding mops and buckets while the final two carried unmarked bags into your place of work.

Slowly you turned to look at John, hoping for some sort of explanation. John watched as you did, his face frozen in the sense of unknowing where to start. So he tried going for simple.

"I'm a contractor," he said, turning his body to face yours. "I do freelance work for anyone who pays me and I do most of my work out of the Continental."

You gulped, your eyebrows knitting in concern. "S-so Winston and Charon are..."

"They know about my work and aid me in doing so."

You raised your shocked brows even further, unsure of what contortion your face was in at the moment. "Oh, okay."

Though it was not okay.

You had dinner with assassins, or contractors as John explained it. You fucked a contract killer.

You fucked a contract killer. You gulped, the thought giving you butterflies.

"So you're not like...an assassin that kills for fun?"

John raised a brow in question then shook his head. "Only bad people, and people who've forgotten that they're bad."

Your face flattened a little, ready to ask your next question as you remembered the stranger in the hotel room. "I'm not being targeted, am I?"

John slowly reached for you, taking tender hold of the side of your throat as he leaned in. "No. And this is not a long con. Meeting you was just coincidence. I just...dragged you into my darkness. And I'm sorry."

Your bottom lip trembled, staring into John's dark eyes and seeing them melt with his sincerity.

"I like you," he began, his chest tightening at the confession. He'd slain 200 men in a single night, he'd killed an extra 100 to avenge his dog, but here was when he felt nerves. "I want you to stick around. If you want."

You instinctively reached for him, pressing your lips to his. He lost his breath, putting his other hand to the opposite side of your neck to hold you close.

When you'd had your fill, you parted from him with a trembling sigh.

"Is that a 'yes'?" John asked, rubbing his thumbs before your ears.

You smiled nervously, taking hold of John's wrists to keep him there and nodded. John smirked softly, wondering what was going on in your head in that moment.

"You'll keep me safe, right?" You teased, though you wanted the reassurance.

John nodded.

He let his hands drop and you took hold of them. "I'm guessing you're gonna stay in this line of work a bit longer?"

He tried to keep his face neutral, though it loomed overhead as the next big step. Slowly he nodded and watched your body deflate upon doing so.

"Just a little longer," John said, leaning forward. "I've got a month saved up at the Continental and I'd like to use my points before they expire."

You broke with an amused scoff, turning away from John's face trying to hold back from smiling. You rolled your eyes at him, feeling this as a new beginning for the both of you.

"And it's got your name written right beside it," John added, tilting his head. "I know that room service has been calling your name."

You laughed then, barely sparing a glance to the men as they returned to their van. "It'd give me time to look for a new job."

You didn't want to bring it down, but the reality encroached again. John grabbed your hands and pulled them in to kiss your knuckles.

"We can figure it out together," John said, rubbing his thumbs over your hands.

His darkness paired well with yours, he saw. John only witnessed a glimpse of it, but it would do well if his month stay turned into two. Or five.

Depending on how much trouble he got into. You bit your lip, staring down at your hands intertwined with one another.

"Did you...hurt his sister?" You asked, letting the words spill out before you could stop them.

John was still for a moment, taking in a steady breath. "I made a blood oath before I got out that he'd be able to hold over my head if I ever came back. He used that promise to kill his sister."

Your face scrunched up slightly. "That's so vile."

"Yeah," John said, running his thumb over your knuckles as if measuring each one in size.

You raised your gaze to meet his. "And he crossed you even after that?"

John nodded, letting you get accustomed to whatever this new beginning was starting from. You looked down again, sorting through your biggest thoughts by importance.

"T-there was a person that broke into..." you mindlessly thumbed over your shoulder, remembering the long night you'd had before this one.

"They were trying to gain the bounty." John said, staring after you as if he was losing you to your own personal spiral.

"Charon said he contacted the police." You snapped up to look at John again and he bit back a smile at your concern.

Your eyes were watering again, this time your bottom lip ready to pout from your teeth. He reached up and coaxed a tear away with his thumb.

"No contractor business is allowed on Continental grounds," he tried to offer as solace but knew that the next part would jar you. "It's an excommunication rule."

You stared at him, hoping that he would explain further.

"The consequence is death," John offered as solace. "It's a safe place. That's why I wanted you to stay there."

You dryly scoffed at him, turning into his palm. "You were trying to keep me safe?"

John nodded. "I saw how shaken you were that night when I picked you up. I wanted to look out for you."

You pursed your lips. "Were Charon and Winston looking out for me too?"

John's lip curled slightly. "Charon, yes. Winston as you've said, loves to gossip. The man can't help but know every detail."

You tilted your head against the seat cushion, pinning John's hand against your cheek. "Did you tell him about me?"

It felt wrong to ask in such a situation, but there was no doubt that your meet-cute with a contract killer was fucked up.

John hid a roll of his eyes, his cheeks raising though he lined his lips together. "I told him enough. He called you...my Persephone."

You reached for his hand, shifting it down for his thumb to brace your lips. You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. "He's funny. I guess this is kind of like the Underworld. Contractors and blood oaths, sacred hotels and clean-up crews."

John raised his brows at you. "Still okay with staying?"

Your stomach, for the first time in the past few days, felt realigned with steel. Though hostage situations were something you never wanted to get used to.

You raised your left hand, pointing your pinkie out. "If you promise me something."

John's lips pouted to the side, never eager to hear about promises in his line of work. He slowly raised his left hand and pointed out his pinkie, waiting to hear what you had to offer.

"Name it."

"You promise to keep me safe if I need it, you can't dump me during a mission and you teach me how to shoot a gun."

John's brows quirked then, his mouth a wormy squiggle to withhold his amusement. He nodded, reaching his large pinkie out to hook around yours. "Deal."

"And..." you added, just as you hooked your finger around his and held him there. "We get dessert in bed and Gunner gets a plate of fries. Also I want to go with you once on a mission."

John's mouth scrunched up under his nose, his cheeks bottling his want to laugh. It felt good to have that still within him.

"I promise."

"Also," you continued, biting your bottom lip. "You help me move out of my apartment."

John chuckled, pointing his finger at you from his interlocked hand. "Now that's too far."

"Said the contract killer," you jested.

John metered his nod back and forth with another soft laugh. "Okay, fine. Also, you don't have to tell me not to dump you."

The two of you stayed locked in your pinky promise as John looked from it to you.

"Promise me something."

"Shoot," you said, scrunching your nose at the poor choice of word.

"You let me know if it gets to be too much. If you want out at any time, I will let you out. I don't want to keep you where you don't want to be."

You hummed, softly smiling at this man. You wanted to stick around for a while, even longer than that. But you didn't want to tell him so.

Even though you were sure this man was the opposite of squeamish. Nothing like boys you'd dated previously.

"Okay."

"And..." John drew out like you had, pursing his lips in soft thought. "I want a full day in bed, with you. Gunner'll have to stay with Charon."

You giggled softly. "Okay," you said, shaking your head in John's direction. "I promise."

The two of you solidified your pinky promise with another soft kiss; John let his hands untangle from you as he felt his ring finger pulse again.

He paused, looking down at his hands and circled his ring on his finger.

You slowly came down from the adrenaline and mushiness spilled and stared at John fiddling with his ring.

"If it's too soon for you..." you tried, but John shut it down with putting his ring hand on the steering wheel.

"I'll be fine," he said with a sigh, aware of when he'd take it off.

It wouldn't be for a while, and he should've asked if it was alright with you. You didn't even notice it, feeling that it was just a part of him.

"So was it pentobarbital in that bottle?" He asked curiously, starting the car and gearing it into drive.

You reached for your seatbelt, glancing out of your window at the vet clinic then buckled yourself in.

"I don't think it was," you said geniunely, unsure if it'd make a difference.

John turned his car into the underground parking garage and circled the top level to find a space. The two of you were going over John's excursion in Rome, why he was really there and what he had to go through to get home.

"That's so fucked up," you offered, unable to create any other cohesive thought.

John shrugged, which gave you the note that this was a normal thing that happened sometimes.

You leaned in, intrigued to learn more about this other half of John. There was John Wick, the mild-mannered dog dad that fucked so hard that you shivering at the thought.

Then there was John Wick, the contract killer who took down a mafia of men in the time it took for you to have dinner with Winston.

"What do they call you?" You asked after John geared his car into park then shut it off.

John raised his brows, glancing over at you. "Don't laugh."

You straightened up in your seat, mimicking a zip of your lips closed before nodding at him to continue. John smirked and undid his seatbelt.

"Baba Yaga," he offered, awaiting your eventual snicker.

But you were perplexed, staring at him. "What is that?"

He blinked once, turning to you fully. "The Boogeyman."

You stared at him, knowing that there was no doubt in your mind that while you feared this man just a little bit, you were attracted to him more.

You looked around the desolate parking lot then back at John. "Anything else?"

"The Wolf, The Devil..." John added, unsure if those names were even true but wanting to amuse you.

You leaned over to John and exhaled a trembling breath. "Is it wrong of me..."

You couldn't finish that sentence aloud, knowing that it was a bit twisted to want him more. The man had just shot another man in front of you...and yet...

You caught John's mouth in a fervent kiss, edging your knee over the center console to sit in his lap. John was surprised, making such a noise as his hands held your hips.

You blindly reached between his seat and the door, finding the handle to recline the two of you back.

John groaned at the sudden movement, but didn't break from you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back and held you tighter against him, allowing you to roll your body against him.

"I-I'm sorry," You offered, parting from him with smaller pecks to follow. "I don't know what came over me."

John looked at you from behind his half-mast eyelids, taking in your trembling chest and legs spread over him. The image of you that morning flashed by again, trying to hide the other twisted side of it.

"Let's go upstairs," he added, his voice hitting a new low.

You felt your body cinch at his utterance, reminding yourself of the euphoric kisses and bites that would come from it.

You nodded, reaching for the driver's side door and climbing out. John attempted to regain himself, righting his seat before grabbing his keys and climbing out.

You didn't expect this place to become a sanctuary to you. The dark foreboding walls, something echoing to the Asphodel, was not inviting like you'd seen most places.

The marble floors, the sharp edges, the posh guests, all of them were out of your wheelhouse of comfort. But you were relieved to enter the lobby of the Continental.

It felt like it held a new charm, one that you prayed never left. You were awash with a sense of security, taking John's hand and leading him to the elevator.

You pinned him against the wall, nudging your nose with his before tempting him with a kiss. He leered after you, his eyes fluttering close with the thought of tasting your lips again.

You nipped at his nose instead, bringing your fingers up to scratch through his beard.

When the two of you made it back to your floor, you grabbed John's hand and started towards your door. At one point, John's arm circled around your waist and he lifted you into him, carrying you to the room.

The two of you stopped at the door, with you fumbling to take the key from John and open the door. You felt his breath over your shoulder, his hands already making their way down the front of your pants.

You shook your head alert, finally making the key open the door and clambering in with John hot on your tail.

You barely made it to get your shoes off before John expertly undid your pants and tugged them down. You bowed onto the bed, readily hiding your shame at how wet you were.

John pulled your pants down to your ankles, then off before turning you onto your back. He took your knee, pulling your legs open and stashing a hard gulp at the sight.

He had no words to say, knowing that the truth would be squeezed out of him soon enough. He reached for his own belt, undoing his pants and freeing his stiffened cock.

You looked down at the comparison, his cock flush against your stomach. You whimpered as he drew himself back, pushing his cock head against your clit before letting it slip over your stomach again.

You threw your head back in frustration, knowing that you wouldn't last long being teased. John watched like an instinctual predator, waiting for his best strike.

His bare hand went to rest at your chest, feeling your racing heart beat hard. John pulled back again, rutted his cock against your clit then let it slide, gathering your wet and streaking your belly.

You whined again, drawing your knees up from the edge of the bed. "John, please."

He would savor every time your lips formed his name; he tilted his head back, soaking it in to puff up his chest when he was normally without flaunting an ego.

John dropped his head again, glaring darkly at you from under his brows. He rutted a third time, earning your writhing. Your head turned back and forth on the comforter, your fingers reaching out for him but never grasping onto him.

"C-c'mon," you hiccuped, finding yourself a disheveled mess. You were flustered and growing on embarrassed, as if John was showing off how turned on you were by him.

By what he did.

By what he did for you.

You gulped, tightening your stomach as you watched him rut a final time; this time he went back and pressed his cock at your entrance, making you drop your head in relief when he slid into you.

John's hand at your chest dropped down to your stomach, leveling your core to feel every inch of him. You practically vibrated upon the new sensation, finding yourself drawn closer to a peak you weren't even acknowledging.

John took his hands away from you to run them under your shirt; he tenderly shrugged your top from over your chin, blinding you the cotton as his cock thrusted into you harshly.

You lost your breath, gasping when he shrugged your shirt over your head and up your arms before pausing there. He flattened himself against you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth with a tender suck.

His fingers threaded through yours, tangling both of you in the cuffs of your shirt until he finally pulled it off of you. John did his with pulling away from you and reaching between his shoulders to rip his shirt over his head.

The cream top yanked up to reveal the yellowing and purple bruises along John's sides, ones you knew now to be wounds for his effort. He went above and beyond in his work, it showed deeply.

John tossed his shirt away, returning over you to feel your chest rise and fall against his. He wanted to undo you further, have you bare to him in the physical and vulnerable sense, but he didn't want to throw off his pace.

You keened when he hit a particularly soft spot within you and he recognized it as your second weakness. John licked his fingers and dove them between the two of you, finding your clit with expert precision and circling it.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, wanting to hook into him if he was going to keep on. Your pants heightened against his mouth, drawing more moans from you as his other hand peeled your leg back to your side.

You broke another inch, your eyes crossing as you glanced to the ceiling. John took it in stride, using his lips to level his chin and meet your eyes. "Did I lose you there?"

Your face scrunched in pleasure, just as your chest tightened with the threat of explosion. "You are the Devil."

He chuckled mirthlessly against your lips, taking them in another kiss as he continued his pace. The two of you found yourselves drawing further up in pleasure, finding the heat culminated between you two enough of a catalyst for you both to cum.

You were first, your mouth falling open in the moans of John's name. Your walls beckoned him further, stunting his thrusts from going too deep before he finally succumbed to your heat.

He rested his elbow next to your head, groaning and hissing in pleasure. The two of you shared your caught breaths, staring at one another in the dim light of the room.

You prodded your tongue to your bottom lip, your eyes raking up and down John's body. He did the same, though he paused at your neck and dove in to kiss you there.

You shied away, raising your shoulder to giggle at his warm breath wafting down your neck. He liked that sound, he wanted to hear more of that.

[wandering-gambler]

id bet my life that John Wick is a dirty talker and a smooth flirter

that’s it that’s the prompt

pls add some russian into it I’m feral for his russian

drink water, be hydrated

decided to combine your ask with this for russian part cuz i was just gonna repeat myself 😭 as for the flirting. oh my god.

he somehow manages to be cheesy and perverted at the same time. you would look up to the sky or whatever, mention how pretty it is and he would nonchalantly say “you’re pretty.”

other times you would tell him “i need a ride” TO A SUPERMARKET, and he would literally manspread his legs and say “i will you give you one” with a sheepish smirk. he would also have his hands on you in public, not something too inappropriate, but touching you enough to rile you up, pressing you to his hard on to make you blush and anxiously look around to see if anyone noticed because he just loooovvvveeessss making you flustered.

you could be applying a fresh layer of your lip product trying to make it perfect and he would comment like “don’t bother i’m gonna wipe that thing off.” you don’t even know how exactly, the possibilities are endless, you just know his mind is far gone in an unholy place, and all you can do is continue whatever u were doing, trying to ignore the heat pooling in between your legs xx.

[wandering-gambler]

Keanuverse character receives a blowjob 7/?

John Wickx gn!Reader, 18+

The blizzard howled against the tall windows of The Four Seasons Moscow, a stark contrast to the warm glow of the suite’s golden lights. Yet, even the opulence couldn’t fully banish the creeping chill that seemed to seep in from the storm outside. You sank into the plush velvet sofa, your gaze inevitably drawn to John across the room.

He sat back, his posture relaxed as he leaned back with his phone pressed to his ear. His voice filled the room, Russian flowing with a hypnotic rhythm that drew you in, even if the words meant nothing to you.

Dressed in a snug white T-shirt that emphasized his lean, muscular frame, and casual gray sweatpants, he radiated comfort and warmth. His dark hair, still fluffy and slightly unruly from a recent shower, framed his face with a few stray strands brushing his forehead. Even the stubble along his jawline seemed invitingly soft. His brows drew together slightly while he spoke,  

“Da, ya ponimayu, chto pogoda nepredskazuyema. Kogda Lukas vernetsya iz Peterburga?... Podozhdu. Dlya menya vazhno, chtoby brilliant byl ideal’nym, a znachit, eto dolzhen sdelat’ imenno on.” (1)

You didn’t need to understand the meaning to feel the weight behind his tone, but even so, a small pang of frustration stirred inside you. What could possibly be so important that it brought the two of you here, to this frozen city buried in snow?

John ended the call with a brief phrase before you had the chance to speak.

“John, I-” you began, but he held up a hand, cutting you off with an apologetic glance.

“Sorry, sweetheart. One more call,” he said gently.

You exhaled sharply, sinking further into the cushions but the plush velvet offered no comfort. John quickly dialed another number, his demeanor shifting as he began speaking again. “Privet, eto Dzhon Uik. YA khotel by perenesti bronirovaniye stolika.”(2)

He nodded a few times, a quiet “spasibo” marking the end of the conversation before his eyes, sharp yet warm, finally locked onto yours. You sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth.

“You still haven’t told me why we came thousands of miles just to freeze,” you grumbled.

John crossed the room without a word. From a nearby armchair, he picked up a thick wool blanket and returned to you. Bending slightly, he draped it over your shoulders.

“All in good time,” he said with a faint, cryptic smile tugging at his lips.

“Fine,” you huffed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Since we’re stuck here in this blizzard, maybe you could at least teach me some Russian? You know, so I can survive if you disappear on another one of your secret missions.”

“Alright.” John reached for a sleek black notebook and a pencil from the coffee table. He settled beside you, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. The inviting scent of his Tom Ford cologne - a blend of vanilla, wood, and a hint of spice wrapped around you and instinctively, you shifted closer, tucking your legs beneath you. Your head found its place against his shoulder, and you marveled at how solid and steady he felt.

“And so,” he began, flipping open the notebook with those long, capable fingers, his voice low and steady, “what’s the most important thing?” He glanced at you, his lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

You blinked, tilting your head to meet his slightly melancholic eyes. “What?”

“Letters,” he said, his smirk deepening and making your heart skip a beat. “Let’s start with the alphabet.”

The pencil moved across the page, forming the letter. 

“This is A.” John pointed to the letter he’d just drawn.“You pronounce it like in the word lucky. A.”

“A,” you repeated. His lips twitched into an approving smile.

“Good.” Then, without missing a beat, he moved on to the next letter. The pencil scratched softly against the paper as he wrote Б. 

“This is Б.” He glanced sideways at you,“You pronounce it like in bad.”

“Б,” you echoed, though your voice faltered just a little. It was hard to concentrate under his watchful gaze.

“Б, right.” 

He wrote the next letter.

“Oh! Is that a B?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you pointed at the page.

“No.” He shook his head, a strand of hair falling over his eyes. “It’s like English V.”

He moved on, writing the next letter. “Г,” he said, glancing at you. “You pronounce it like the G in good. Г.”

You repeated it, trying your best to match his pronunciation.

As he wrote the next letter, your gaze drifted to his hands. The way his fingers gripped the pencil, how smoothly they moved across the page…it was impossible not to remember how they felt on your skin. Heat flushed through you, but you quickly pushed the thought away.

“God, what a weird letter,” you muttered, staring at the unfamiliar shape.

John let out a low chuckle. “You haven’t seen the others yet.”

“So, how do I pronounce it?” you asked, leaning closer to get a better look at the notebook, though your attention was more on the man beside you than the page.

“Д,” he said smoothly, his deep voice making the letter sound far more enticing than it should.

He continued, drawing the next letter.

“Okay, I’ll take it back. This letter is even weirder.”

“This is Ж, Zh.”

“Zh!” you repeated, doing your best to mimic the way the sound rolled smoothly off his tongue.

John smirked faintly, tapping the notebook with his pen. 

“By the way, these two letters are in my name,” he said, carefully writing out ДЖОН in bold, deliberate strokes.

“Guess I’ll have to learn how to write it,” you teased.

He glanced at you, his brown eyes softening for a moment. Then, as quickly as it came, his attention returned to the notebook in front of him.

The lesson continued. Yet, despite your best efforts, your focus began to drift. The deep, steady timbre of his voice soothed you, drawing your gaze to his face. His profile was striking - the sharp line of his jaw shifted ever so slightly with each word, the faint crinkles near his eyes deepening with every hint of a smile, and the subtle movements of his lips held you spellbound.

“Am I boring you?” John’s voice broke through your thoughts.

Your eyes snapped to his, wide and startled. 

“Oh…Not at all,” you said quickly, biting your lip to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Right,” John arched a brow, smirking knowingly as he leaned back slightly. 

“Listen, I can teach you some phrases,” John said, turning fully toward you, his bent leg coming up onto the sofa. The casual movement shifted the fabric of his sweatpants, drawing your gaze downward despite yourself. For a brief moment, your eyes lingered on the way the material stretched taut over his crotch, clinging in a way that left little to the imagination.

Heat flared in your cheeks as you snapped your gaze back up, silently praying he hadn’t noticed. The faint twitch of his lips, though, suggested otherwise.

“What kind of phrases do you want to know?” 

You hesitated, taking a moment to compose your thoughts. At first, you considered something innocent, like asking how to order a coffee or ask for directions, something practical. But then your gaze lingered on him again - the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, the way his long fingers idly flipped through the notebook, the faint furrow of on his brow. That ache between your thighs swelled, impossible to ignore anymore. You shifted in your seat, angling your body toward him.

“Okay…” you started, tilting your head coyly, “how do I say… I want to kiss you?”

John’s eyebrow cocked slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “That phrase will help you survive?” 

You leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing. “No,” you murmured. “But it might reveal what I’ve really been thinking.”

He stilled completely, the notebook forgotten in his lap. His gaze held yours, deep and searching. The moment stretching between you before he finally spoke. The words rolled off his tongue. “Ya khochu pocelovat tebya.”

“Ya khochu pocelovat tebi,” you repeated softly, leaning in just a little closer. Your gaze traced the sharp lines of his face with intent, your fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes. Beneath your touch, they flickered with a fleeting vulnerability.

He cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. “Tebya,” he corrected softly.

You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his, lips hovering so near they almost brushed.

“Tebya,” you repeated, your whisper laced with a soft gasp that teased his skin. Your hand slid lower, settling lightly on his chest.

“But how do I say,” you murmured, teeth grazing your bottom lip, fingers tracing slow patterns across his torso, “you are the sexiest and most handsome man in the world?”

His gaze faltered, dropping to where your touch lingered, the heat of it drifting lower.

“Ty samyy…” he  began, his voice already unsteady. Your fingers slipped under the hem of his T-shirt, brushing over the firm ridges of his abdomen. He flinched. Always composed, always stoic, and yet he twitched under your touch, a subtle tremor that sent a thrill through your body.

“Ty samyy…” you repeated softly, letting your voice drip with seduction. Your nails grazed his skin, sending a ripple of sensation across his skin.

“...seksual’nyy i krasivyy…” he continued, his breath catching as your hand journeyed lower,  brushing the growing hardness straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. His pupils dilated, swallowing the brown of his irises. 

“Seksual’nyy i krasivyy…” you repeated.

“...muzhchina v mi-,” The final word faltered, cut off by the sharp inhale you elicit from him when your hand squeezed his cock gently through the fabric.

“And how do I say…” Your lips ghosted now over the shell of his ear. “I want to suck your dick so hard?”

John swallowed thickly, attempting to respond. “Ya khochu-”  The words broke off when you teased him again, drawing another shaky gasp.

“Ya khochu…” you murmured back, amusement lacing your tone as your fingers toyed with his waistband. You slid sweatpants down agonizingly slowly, the fabric catching briefly on his swollen tip before freeing his shaft completely.

His hand shot to the back of the couch as he tried again. “Ya... ya khochu…”

“Ya khochu,” you echoed with a teasing smile. Your hand brushed against his heated length, and his knuckles turned white, the muscles in his forearm taut, clinging to the last threads of control.

“Ya… khochu…” he stammered, his voice faltering under the weight of your touch.

“Ya khochu,” you repeated. His cock was hard and heavy in your hand, throbbing against your touch. “That’s what you were trying to say, right?” Your fingers glided along the underside of his length, tracing the sensitive skin. Wrapping around him with a firm grip, his hips shift involuntarily, seeking more.

“...tebe…” he choked out, but the rest of his response was swallowed by a broken gasp when your tongue brushed along his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth. His hips bucked at the sudden warmth and the last thin thread of his composure shattering.

“God,” he groaned, his head falling back against the coach as a deep, strained moan slipped from his lips. 

1.“Yeah, I understand that the weather is unpredictable. When will Lucas return from St. Petersburg?... I’ll wait. It’s important to me that the diamond is perfect, and that means it has to be done by him specifically.”

2.“Hi, this is John Wick. I’d like to reschedule the table reservation.”

A/N: I used google translate

[wandering-gambler]

Spring John Wick romantic headcannons <3

He reads beside you on lazy spring mornings. You are on your stomach in the sunlight, half-asleep with your cheek on his arm. Him propped up on one elbow, turning pages with a peaceful look on his face, one hand slowly tracing lazy circles on your back. Birds chirping. Window open. World quiet.

2. He remembers everything you say—even when you think he isn’t listening. That offhand comment you made about loving apricots? He buys them fresh at a roadside stand when you're on a trip. Mentioned once that you like thunderstorms? He lights candles and makes tea before the first roll of thunder hits.

3. He loves it when you let him do small, tender things for you. Spring makes him want to take care of you more than usual — bring you flowers he picked on his way home, set up a picnic under the blooming cherry blossoms, or just pull you close on the couch and rub soothing circles into your back while the scent of fresh-cut grass fills the air. His love is in the quiet, tender actions, and he likes it when you lean into them.

4. He kisses you after the rain. When the storm clears, he pulls you outside to catch the fresh, earthy scent of the air. You’re wet, hair clinging to your neck, your clothes damp, but all he can think about is pulling you close. His lips meet yours, tasting like rain, tasting like you. The kiss is slow, deep — like he’s trying to soak up the last remnants of the storm before it passes.

5. He adores when you wear light, flowy clothes. Spring makes him want to see you in soft, flowing dresses that catch the wind when you walk. It’s not that he’s staring — it’s that he loves the way you feel in them. He’ll always pull you close, one hand at your waist, the other resting on the curve of your back, pressing his lips to your forehead, loving how the season matches your ease.

6. The Quiet Invitation of The Floral Bath When you walk in, you’re greeted by the soft light of candles he lit around the room. The flickering shadows create a peaceful ambiance. The flowers float delicately in the water, the scent of lavender filling the space.

John doesn’t speak right away — he simply stands there, watching you, his eyes full of quiet affection. His usual intensity is softened, and for a moment, you can see how much he’s thought about this small act of care for you. The weight of everything else in his life seems to disappear in this moment, and it’s just the two of you.

He gently places a hand on your back, guiding you toward the tub, and the softness of his touch contrasts with the strength of his build.

“You deserve this,” he murmurs. “A little peace.

Surely he's just a lover

[wandering-gambler]

Can you please write romantic yandere John wick x civilian reader headcanons? Thanks ❤️

Yandere John Wick with Civilian Reader Headcanons

Let’s say this takes place after the events of all four John Wick films, he takes his time to grieve his wife and move on from his rough past. Then he finally starts to date again, he feels a little guilty at first, but he knows that Helen would want him to be happy.

He first notices you when he takes his dog out for exercise in the early morning, and he would catch the little glances you would shoot at him as the two of you pass each other in the park.

You look back at him as he passes by, it’s no secret to him that you have a little crush on him. He smiles to himself as he catches you looking back at him and how quickly you look away. It makes his heart flutter.

It’s his dog that eventually gives him an opening to talk to you. His dog had run over to you as you sit on the park bench that’s on his usually dog walking route. You may or may not do that on purpose so that you can smile at him every morning.

You ask if you can pet his dog, and he nods. He smiles as you give his dog some affection. (why can’t you give him any?)

He asks you if you want to go to the cafe down the street with him, and he almost grins at the way you look up at him. Like you were hearing things. You quickly agree, a bit flustered.

The two of you walk to the cafe together, his dog obediently following right beside him. The two of you introduce yourselves, and exchange contact information. He casually holds your hand the rest of the way to the cafe.

He orders the both of you a coffee, and you sit out on the patio as the two of you talk for what feels like forever. He hasn’t felt this way since Helen.

He will do extensive research on all of your friends, family and coworkers to make sure they aren’t anybody that will hurt you to get to him. He takes his retirement seriously after what happened in Paris.

He puts a tracker on your car and on your phone, and you never find out. He knows how to hide stuff like that due to his past as a high profile hitman. But he won’t tell you that. <33

He gets rid of any grace of his past, all of his weapons are out of his house and kept somewhere only he knows about. He doesn’t want to scare you off.

He spends most of his money on you, and he loves how flustered you get when he gives you an expensive custom piece of jewelry.

He loves to cook for you, he makes you homemade meals as often as he can. He also loves it when you bring over baked goods that you made, just for him. It makes him feel special when you make his favourite pastries from scratch. It makes all the more delicious knowing you made them while thinking of him.

He loves how domestic being with you is, it makes him happy k owing that he is deserving of a normal life after all of the crimes he has committed.

He will kill for you if he has to, and he will cover it up as well. He has the experience to make it look like an accident. All to make you happy <33