#in my defense my only other pair of tights is fleece lined and it’s too warm for that

[owners-puppy]

the kinky life is not owning any regular tights to wear with your dress, so you wear sheer assless tights out to breakfast 🥰

[fortheloveoffanfic]

This Christmas pt2

John Wick x Reader

Masterlist   This Christmas Masterlist

London It was the second day of the conference and Y/n had spent most of the day in John’s suite, giving his speech one final proof reading while he went over some paperwork. Outside of the hotel and the center where the week long event was being held, Y/n hadn’t really seen much of the expansive city, much too busy with work to do anything else. At first, back in New York she couldn’t really fathom why John would need her in London with him, but it had only taken the first evening to clear that whole matter up. Being there wasn’t just about five days of sitting in a auditorium listening to speeches and having meet and greets afterwards; there were cocktail parties with investors and potential clients, leadership luncheons, training sessions and a host of other work related events and while she wasn’t directly involved, Y/n could see how navigation would be made easier when there was someone to help with keeping track of the calendar and preparing material. 

It was boring though, at least for Y/n, and somewhat dispiriting, especially when every time she looked out the window or went downstairs to the lobby, all she was reminded of was the holiday she wouldn’t really be celebrating that year. On her last call with her mother, she’d encouraged Y/n to call its quits, a job was no good if it was making you unhappy and a boss that couldn’t care enough to give you week off after you’d been a perfect employee for the rest of the year just wasn’t worth the fuss. But Y/n knew that she’d never actually bring herself to leave, despite everything, John had become a huge part of her life and she cared about him, probably a tad more than she should. 

“Are you finished with that?” Y/n’s head snapped up at the sound of his gruff baritone, coming from the armchair near the electric fireplace. He had one arm laid on the upholstered arm of the sofa and one of his ankles was crossed over his knee while he held a pen in his left hand, absently tapping the pages as he awaited her answer. 

Using the joint of her thumb, Y/n pushed up her glasses, trying to ignore how the way the sleeves of his dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows, made his arms look bigger or how the way he had the top buttons undone had somehow added to how smoldering he usually was. John was her tough as nails boss, it would have significantly helped if he looked the part instead of looking like he’d just materialized from the page of a fashion magazine. “Uh...yeah, almost,” as she shifted on the long sofa, tucking one jean clad leg under herself while tugging on the hem of her grey sweater, Y/n forced herself to look away and pick her jaw up off the ground, “I can read faster or-”

“No, it’s okay. There’s still some time, don’t rush yourself,” he was so nonchalant and much more relaxed than she was used to him being. John was always  so tightly wound that sometimes it was hard to believe he hadn’t snapped yet. Though, that evening, in his hotel room with the roaring fire ablaze and nothing more than a pot of room service coffee shared between them, he seemed softer. 

Simply nodding with a tight smile, Y/n bent her head to continue with her reading. Her eyes scanned each line in search of any error and she was wholly focused on the task at hand, trying her best to not pay John any mind, not even when he stood from his seat, making his way over to the nearest window, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “It’s snowing,” he broke the silence again, musing absently.

Once again, Y/n looked up, that time to find that he was still looking out the window. Nervous as hell about the sudden shift in his demeanor, yet still trying to welcome the new found side of John, Y/n stood as she finished the final paragraph, going over to meet him at the large window, sure to keep some space between them. Sure enough, white flakes were making the slow, picturesque journey to the wet sidewalk, while in other places, like on the lawn of a gated park across the street, it had started to gather, creating a blanket of white around the decorated trees. “It is,” Y/n hummed, still looking outside, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

He shrugged and Y/n barely noticed when John spared her a lingering glace, only to turn away before speaking, “I guess it is,” an awkward silence was traded between them, and Y/n was pleasantly surprised when John was the one to break it, “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?” Y/n furrowed her brows, turning to throw him a curious glance, “I don’t think I understand.”

“Your favorite winter, I mean; here, New York, somewhere else. Where’s your favorite?” He clarified and Y/n was finding it hard to believe that he actually cared. John had never, not even once, asked about anything remotely personal, she didn’t even think he knew when her birthday was.

“Oh,” huffing a brief, wistful chuckle, Y/n barely thought on it, knowing her answer almost immediately, “Connecticut, you know, back at home,” John didn’t appear to have a response, and not yet ready for their little moment to be over, Y/n threw the question back to him, “What’s yours?” 

“Madrid,” he noted coolly, “Not a lot of snow most of the time, but it’s quiet, easy to stay away from the fuss.”

“The fuss?” 

Scrunching his nose, John nudged to everything outside; the colorful lights intertwined on the branches and around the trunks of trees, the decorations in storefronts and evening running along street lamps, “All of this. It’s not really my thing.”

“I know,” she glanced at him, and surprised to see that he’d just looked at her, their eyes meeting unintentionally, “But maybe you just haven’t given it enough of a chance.”

Shaking his head, John sighed heavily as he started retreating towards his bedroom, “You wouldn’t understand,” with another audible exhale, he closed his hand over the brass knob, “The symposium starts in an hour, we should get ready to leave.”

“Of course,” Y/n frowned. She was eager to know what exactly she wouldn’t understand, but John had changed the topic so quickly that it was obvious the matter wasn’t one he was going to elaborate on. “Let me just organize your things.”

She was still in the process of putting John's stuff together when he reemerged shortly after, that time with his hair neatened and wearing a suit jacket, button left open to show off the pinstripe tie he had paired with his dark shirt. Through her lashes, as she checked his devices to see if they’d have enough power for the rest of the evening, Y/n eyed him as he shrugged on a thick navy coat over his suit, subsequently slipping his key card into one of his pockets. 

“You should take a scarf,” Y/n blurted out, wringing her hands together anxiously the second the words fell out of her mouth. And then, when John didn’t catch on, she extended, “It’s cold out,” already, she’d started moving towards the bag he’d left on the love seat, rummaging through until she got a hold of a plain black scarf. Giving it a once over as she approached him, Y/n tried to hide the fall in her expression at its plainness, proceeding to stand on her toes and drape it over his neck anyways, “You wouldn’t want to catch a cold,” she said softly, still leaning in so she could fix and adjust to suit.

John stiffened her touch, his frame going rigid and his face more unreadable than usual. He didn’t say it, but Y/n knew that even if they were standing close and her hands would occasionally brush his shoulders carelessly, he was doing his very best to ensure he didn’t touch her. “You didn’t have to,” he breathed uncomfortably.

“I know,” she smiled faintly, finally stepping backwards to admire her work, “But you’re stubborn, so I wouldn’t want to risk you not listening,” tentatively, she reached out, brushing away any lingering fault on his shoulder, “There,” she pulled away, “All set now.”

“Thanks,” John sighed, avoiding her gaze, “Ready?” He shuffled past her, narrowly keeping his distance, going to collect the rest of his things as Y/n shrugged on her stylish fleece coat.

“Yeah,” Y/n lingered in the foyer, her eyes going wide after a moment, “My phone!” Y/n declared, hurrying over to where she’d left it charging at the small, round table near the window they’d been standing at just a short while ago.

Just then, three short, unhurried knocks at the door had John pulling it open to reveal Robert on the other side, dressed far more casually than John was. “You’re not on this one,” John noted hastily, his mind, as it always did, immediately going to work.

“I know,” Robert beamed, pocketing his hands in his coat, rocking back and forth on his heels, “I’m here for Y/n.”

“Huh?” Confused, she looked up from where she’d been stuffing her charger into her handbag, “What?”

“You can’t just take my assistant whenever you feel like it,” John scolded defensively, folding his arms, “Y/n is working tonight.”

Whistling lowly, Robert shook his head, “First of all, she’s not just your assistant, she’s Y/n, life outside of you and all that, and second, she’s been working all day. What do you need her to do anyways? Hold your hand and walk you to the conference center?” At the mention of hand holding, John’s face went beat red, though Y/n couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or angry and Robert didn’t give John a moment to let them know, “Look, I’m sure you can manage without her for a couple hours, I just want to take her ice skating.”

“Ice skating?” Suddenly excited, Y/n perked up, more jubilant than he’d ever seen her, “That would be amazing! I swear, I’ll make up the hours tomorrow, or whenever you need me to,” she approached John, her doe eyes hopeful as she clutched her handbag in anticipation. 

Wincing, John gnawed on his lower lip as he debated her request. The wait seemed to go on forever, and right before he gave his response, Y/n was actually starting to worry that he’d say no. “Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes, “But only this one time.”

Flinging herself into his chest, Y/n grabbed John into a hug that undoubtedly caught him off guard, “Thank you,” she mumbled into his neck as she stood on her toes, only noticing that he had hugged her back just as they were untangling. “Good luck with your speech,” giving his arm one last squeeze, and feeling heat in her cheeks rise at his slightly softened expression, Y/n finally pulled away, half way out the door with Robert, “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time John had returned to the hotel, he was beat. All he wanted was to flop into bed after a hot shower, though, as appealing as the prospect was, he’d first have to drag himself out of the town car and through the golden framed doors of the entrance. Immediately upon entering, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief; even if it wasn’t his room, it was still far warmer than his few minutes spent on the sidewalk.

Slowly, he trudged past reception, ignoring all the fluff and frill of plastic green garlands, the huge tree in the center of the lobby and the shiny, colorful decorations that were inescapable at  every corner. Most times it was irritating, but there was the rare occasion, like that night, where seeing them stung a bit more than it annoyed him and John didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with Y/n’s absence. 

He’d wanted her at the conference that night, not just as his assistant, but more so as the only person in his life that actually cared about him. Of all the meetings and gatherings that were being run that week, John had wanted her at that one the most. In his mind, he’d rationalized it by trying to convince himself that it was what made sense; Y/n had helped him write that speech, she’d sat in his office late at night, listening to every draft and she’d even acted as a sounding board for ideas that he wanted to test. Y/n had been with him for every part of it, until the very end, when all he wanted was to see her face in the crowd. 

But of course she’d chosen to spend the evening with Robert, who could blame her? John knew himself well enough to know that his employee was definitely much better company than he was, and the way her face had lit up at the mention of ice skating, he’d really be the Grinch if he took that away from her. And the last thing John wanted was to be the recipient of another one of Robert’s taunting jokes. 

With a heavy sigh, John was finally stepping out of the elevator having reached his floor, only to run into someone he didn’t particularly feel like having a conversation with. “Hey boss,” Robert nodded politely as he drew closer from the left side of the hall, still dressed the way he was when he’d picked up Y/n earlier, though with hair wind tousled. “How was your big speech?”

They were headed in the same direction, so really, John had no way of escaping the mineral chit chat. “It was good,” there was no way that John was going to let Robert know that it might have been better if Y/n were there; he might tell her. Worst yet, John was pretty sure that Robert had taken some sort of romantic liking to Y/n and he didn’t want to intrude on that. “How was ice skating?”

“Like you care,” Robert shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, scoffing lightly, “Though, if you must know, it was great. I had fun, and I think Y/n did too,” they were nearing the end of the hall when Robert stopped, rummaging around in his coat before producing his key card, “Well this is me, I’ll see you for the brunch tomorrow. Good night.”

He’d already slipped the card into its slot, and John had just started walking off, when a nagging thought had him halting with a wince and turning, “Why ice skating?” There were so many other places that he could have taken Y/n if he wanted to impress her; one of the many upscale restaurants, the London eye and the list went on but still, Robert had chosen something as juvenile as ice skating and she’d gotten so excited. 

Shrugging, Robert smiled tiredly, “She goes with her family every year. They go to the local rink, spend a couple hours and get cocoa after. And I don’t know, she just seemed a little down about not getting to do that this year, so I thought I’d take her, see if it would cheer her up.”

As John listened, his mind went back to that faraway look in her eye and Y/n’s soft, wistful smile when she’d mentioned that her favorite place to spend winter was back at home. Then he hadn’t known well enough to look for it, but maybe she had been upset. Had she been down for the entire trip? Was he really that selfish? John hadn't meant to be, and that certainly wasn’t something he wanted to take up with Robert, “Oh, well…..good. ‘Night Robert.”

As he walked off, John barely heard the other man’s response; he’d already started sinking into deep thought. With his head down cast and his brows furrowed, he let his mind tick away; he was going to make it up to Y/n, somehow. 

*****

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