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𝜗𝜚┊❝𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚❞ | 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

!!!: 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭/𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧!

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬ᯓ𝜗𝜚

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧/𝐝𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝟒𝟐

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧’𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ��𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝— 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐮𝐩, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜. 𝐇𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬.

𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐛 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ��𝐩. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟.

𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐇𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐜𝐮𝐦, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, “𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧?” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲. “𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?”

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐬𝐥��𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. “𝐒𝐡𝐡, 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩,” 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐦. 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐲.

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧.

𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩.

𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ᯓ𝜗𝜚

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ᯓ𝜗𝜚

#john wick smut #john wick x you #john wick au #john wick imagine #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick oneshot #john wick x y/n #john wick x reader #john wick x fem!reader

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bbr0wni3 · 4 months ago

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Imagine being John Wick's girlfriend, he takes you to the hotel he always goes to, once you make yourselves at home you enter the bathroom to change, after a while you come out wearing a soft little skirt and a simple white tank top that it is almost see through as he can clearly see your bra. You start approaching the bed, with one pair of deep dark eyes following you inside the room, you stand in front of him, and you let yourself think you're so brave to let this man taste every little inch of you with only his eyes, he watches every move you make.

He begins placing a hand on your waist, touching the fabric of your clothes, he absorbs every little sensation of the soft texture that he feels like it's burning on the tip of his fingers, he grows hungry every time your sweet perfume scent hits his nose. Craving you even more on each minute that goes by.

He starts caressing softly but also provocatively the inner parts of your thighs. He feels his pants grow tighter and suffocate the aching feeling that grows between his legs every time he hears the little gasps that come out of your soft and moist lips.

You start to touch his broad shoulders, tracing circles with the tip of the fingers of your right hand, slowly going down his chest, you listen to his breath rhythm change when you do so, and as you both keep an intense eye contact, the buttons of his waistcoat are unfastened with only four of your fingers. His hands start going up to grasp intensively your ass as soon as you start raising your leg to sit on top of his big thighs, straddling him and laying your arms around his neck as you both still eat yourselves with only your passionate gazes.

#john wick x reader #john wick #d1lf #keanu reeves #fanfiction #slight smut #fem reader #imagine #john wick imagine

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casuallyobssessed · 4 months ago

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Fairytales & Firesides - Bodyguard!John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 6.1k Words

A/N: My Keanuverse Secret Santa gift for @at-wicks-end, hosted by @97keanu ! I hope you love it! P.S. I don't live in an area that gets snow, sorry if this is inaccurate! 🫶🏼

Before You Read: bodyguard AU, fluff, canon typical violence/descriptions of violence, short-ish slow burn (I tried lol), angst, no beta, use of Y/N, :3c

gif creds to dalekinapaintedparadise - divider by bleachbambi

Archive of Our Own Link

Winter crashes into the mountains like a raging bull, forcing you inside for the foreseeable future. Sleet and snow dominate the weather forecast, rendering the outdoors dangerous in more ways than one. While the snow comes down, you could usually be found tucked away in your home library. Warm light from the fireplace bathes you in an orange and red glow as you curl up in your comfiest chair with one of your many books. This has always been your treasured safe space.

At least, it was, until things with your uncle got more complicated. For a while now, you've been living in one of your uncle's mansions, kind of doing whatever you want. He allows you to stay there only because you promised to look after the place every winter when there aren't as many people around to help on the property due to the snowfall in the mountains.

Your uncle, Diego, is into some pretty shady stuff. Gangs, drugs, secret societies? You name it, he has his fingers in it. Recently, Diego had some kind of drug deal gone bad with a very prestigious group of people involved. Since then, they've hired a hit on your uncle and any of your family that they can get their hands on. A distant cousin, one aunt, and your great grandfather have all fallen victim to revenge killings. Diego fears that you could be next since you live in one of his properties, so he's hired a selection of bodyguards for your protection.

Unfortunately, the newly hired muscle made your comfort space feel more like a prison. As silly as it might sound, you felt like a princess locked away in her secluded tower. Being a full grown adult, something like this seemed like overkill. You didn't need twenty four seven protection from everything that goes bump in the night, but you were dependent on Diego’s generosity, so you accepted his offer of security with gritted teeth.

As the time passed, your bodyguards came and went. You never had the same one for more than a week at a time. Many of them were kind to you, and thankfully, only one of them had been a creep. They were promptly dealt with (according to Diego, anyway).

It didn't take too long for daily life to start losing its spark. You plowed through a good portion of your books in the first couple of weeks. This prompted you to start writing your own book. Really, it was more of a journal documenting your experience, but who said it couldn't be both?

The guards were usually your only contact with the outside world, so you appreciated your conversations with them. Trading stories of their heroic actions for your recounts of the fantasy books you had been reading, you were able to keep your imagination running wild and your notebooks full of ideas.

After one particularly difficult week, Sunday rolled around and it was time for a new guard. You bid farewell to the previous one and patiently waited to meet the lucky new bodyguard. Diego would brief them on their duties before they were dispatched to your side. You just hope they were kinder than the last.

Your newest guard is set to find you on the floor in your library, busy reviewing pieces of your story journal. The click of the door opening snatches you back to reality, turning your attention to the man entering your sanctuary. Standing up, you step over your journal and various papers scattered around the floor, and slowly walk over to where he stood.

“Good Morning, Ms.Y/N,” His voice is as smooth as honey.

“It's nice to meet you,” You offer your hand and he takes it, giving it a firm shake, ”What's your name?”

“John. I see that you're busy, I'll keep out of your way.”

John looks past you, at the chaos spread about the room, and gives you a curt nod before assuming his post by the door. You return to work on your journal, hoping he doesn't notice the urgency in your writing as you occasionally steal glances at him, documenting the handsome new guard.

John is not a bad looking man. He stands a good bit taller than you with slicked back, dark hair and a matching, well groomed beard. He has beautiful brown eyes that twinkle as though they hold the secrets to the universe. Maybe that last part is all in your head, but there's certainly something mysterious about this man that captivates you.

Out of your way is where John stays for the next couple of days, quiet and mostly indifferent to your presence. He followed you whenever you left your library but kept a distance either in front or behind you. At night, he sat on the couch in the far corner of your room. Under normal circumstances, it would have made you too uneasy to have someone watching you sleep, but after weeks of constant surveillance, you were used to it.

Come the third day, you are determined to break the ice with him. Two days of no conversation other than one word responses was driving you mad. It never took this long for a guard to warm up to you. So, you decide that you are going to try your best to get some kind of response out of him.

Small talk definitely isn't going to work. This man is clearly not one to gossip or discuss the weather with. Your first attempt is to ask him about current events. ‘What's the world like out there right now? Anything important happening that I should know about?’ You're met with only a shrug and a small, well meaning smile. Strike one.

Next, you try asking him about himself and his home life. ‘Have anyone at home missing you while you're busy here? Do you have any pets?’ Unfortunately, these questions don't receive much of a response either, not even so much as a shrug. The look in his eyes hardened after the first question, though. You figure it's best not to push it. Strike two.

For your last attempt, you decide to ask him if he has any interesting stories about jobs he's had in the past. This was a common question you had for your guards as their answers would usually help inspire your writing. ‘Do you have any cool action stories or experiences you could share? I can tell you about some of the books I've been reading in exchange!’ Finally, John looks at you with somewhat of an amused expression on his face. It's the most emotion you've gotten out of him, so far, but he doesn't say anything. Strike three. You're out!

…Or are you?

John shifts on his feet before clearing his throat to speak, “I suppose there are a few I could share with you.”

“Awesome. Let me grab my notebook,” you say incredibly calmly, desperate not to give away your excitement. Mentally, you're doing a celebratory victory dance.

For hours, you two trade stories. His were outlandish, but true. Each story is more nail bitingly exciting than the last. Yours range from the worst romance novels you've ever read, to the best fantasy books you have shelved in your library. You filled half your journal with wonderful ideas thanks to John. And on top of that, it seems like he is getting more comfortable with talking to you. It's an overall win-win for you.

That night, you become keenly aware of John in the corner of your room, reading one of the books you suggested to him. You're not sure what changed, but you feel very differently about having him here. Sure, you feel protected, but something inside you has started to feel warm and gooey knowing he's always nearby. Maybe you just need a good night's rest. It's been a long day. You snuggle up underneath your comforter and drift off to sleep.

The next morning you wake yourself up from tossing and turning. You can't catch your breath, you're completely flushed, and your heart is racing. It takes a moment, but suddenly your dream from last night comes flooding back and you're blushing like a schoolgirl.

You had a dream about John. Oh God. Your cheeks must be burning bright red from embarrassment. Looking over at John, he is seemingly still asleep. His eyes are closed, head leaned back, arms crossed on his chest, and legs spread wide. You wonder what would happen if you were to crawl between those long legs and… Nope! Nuh uh! Shaking the rogue thoughts from your head, you promptly get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. You need a cold shower, pronto.

Upon returning from your shower, John was finally awake, reading the same book from the night before. Realizing you’re back and wearing only a towel, John excuses himself and steps outside the door to wait for you to change.

You don't know how you're supposed to face him, but you know that the thoughts you're having aren't fair towards him. John has been completely professional with you while he's been here and it would be inappropriate of you to cross that line.

Getting dressed quickly, you pick out a pair of plaid pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Never leaving the house has some perks. You rarely have to get dressed up in stiff, fancy clothes unless you really want to. Days like today, you can lounge around in pajamas with no consequence.

Once you’re finished dressing, you leave your room and briskly walk past John without a word. You don't necessarily want to be cold towards him, but until you get a grip on yourself, it's probably better that way.

John dutifully follows you back to the library and posts up by the door. You tend to the fireplace, rekindle it as needed, and then plop yourself onto the bench next to the window adjacent to the hearth. Frost is crawling up the edges of the window, obscuring your view only slightly. As you stare out into the wintry wonderland, you try your best not to think about John and the contents of your dream.

Instead, you focus on the snowflakes as they dance down from the sky in a flurry and collect on the ground below. With how soft the snow looks, you have no trouble imagining yourself making the perfect snow angel, right in the front yard. You're not sure if going out there is the best idea, given the weather and the unpredictable danger, but a little freedom might just be what you need right now.

Maybe if you move fast enough, you could get past John and escape outside. It was worth a shot. You nonchalantly rise up from the bench and silently shuffle back to your room. John trails along behind you, looking moderately confused. You hurriedly shut the bedroom door, accidentally closing it in his face.

“Sorry, John! Give me a minute, I'm changing again,” You call out.

A muffled ‘Okay’ can be heard as you dig through your closet looking for your puffy winter coat. You find it half shoved in the back corner, dangling precariously on its hanger. After pulling your coat on, you slide into your snow boots, wriggle your fingers into your gloves, and head towards the front door.

As fate would have it, a big coat and snow boots are not the smartest choices when you're trying to move fast. You make it as far as the foyer, reaching for the door handle before he stops you. So much for keeping your distance from him today.

“Ms. Y/N, where do you think you're going?” John grabs your arm tightly enough to keep you in place. You try shrugging him off, but he's got too strong of a grip on you.

“Outside. I want to see the snow.”

“You can see the snow from in here,” He responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“I want to feel it, John. I want to remember what it's like to breathe fresh air.”

“It's my job to keep you safe. Inside,” He replies sternly.

“I'm going out and you are not going to stop me,” You spit back at him, putting your foot down.

John reluctantly lets you go and takes a step back. He considers you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Fine. Diego won't be pleased, but at least let me put on my coat.”

You oblige his request and wait for him patiently until he returns wearing his heavy, black coat. Though you do feel a little bad for how you spoke to him, you don't regret it. You have been cooped up in this house for far too long.

John insists on stepping outside first to make sure it's clear before allowing you to follow him. The second you cross the threshold, cold, crisp air hits your face and you breathe a sigh of relief. Being inside all the time gets incredibly stuffy and winter isn't the ideal time to be opening windows to air things out. You stare up into the sky as snowflakes land on your face, only to melt against your skin.

Everything is still and quiet. From the house to the trees, it's a peaceful, untouched spread of snow, give or take a few sparse animal tracks. Off to the side, John is watching you and your surroundings with a sharp eye.

You trudge around in the snow looking for the best place to make your masterpiece. Just in front of the windows to the library, you find the perfect spot.

Without another thought, you fall back into the snow, moving your arms and legs to create the shape of a snow angel. You feel as giddy as a kid, smiling ear to ear and laughing like a fool. Who knew something as simple as playing in the snow could make you feel so happy, so free?

“John, come on! Make a snow angel with me. Please?” You’re begging him to have some fun with you even though half an hour ago you were plotting how you could avoid him indefinitely.

His footsteps crunch in the snow until he's standing over you with a smile almost as wide as yours as you look up at him. You feel as though the heavens have opened up and you're staring directly at an angel. The frost nipping at your nose pales in comparison to the heat bursting inside your chest.

He solemnly shakes his head at you, “I can't, I'm sorry.”

You stay like that for a bit until the cold from the snow starts to overwhelm you through your coat and pajama pants, sending chills down your spine. You stand up from the ground to admire your handiwork. It's a solid outline if you ignore John's big footprints in the snow above the head. You decide it's an easy eight out of ten.

Satisfied with your creation, you move on to your next activity. You scoop up a handful of snow and pat it into a ball in your hands. Luckily for you, John is turned away, distracted by something off in the distance near the trees. Now’s the perfect chance to strike.

You wind up your arm and toss the snowball at him, smacking him squarely between the shoulder blades. Pumping your fist in the air, you holler out a loud ‘Yes!’

You hear an exasperated sigh come from John, and quickly, you realize you may have messed up and taken things too far.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Your apology is cut off by John whipping around, grabbing a fistful of snow, forming it hastily in his hands, and then throwing it at you, landing in the center of your chest.

Stunned, you let out a loud laugh before returning fire. John obviously has the better aim of you two. Missing every other shot was an improvement for you, while he was landing every hit flawlessly.

Unsurprising to you, John ends up as the winner of the snowball fight. You gave up once your stomach started rumbling and you realized that you hadn't eaten any breakfast yet. Hungry and defeated, you head back inside with your bodyguard in tow.

In the foyer, you strip off your coat, gloves, and boots, tossing them to the side. You had plenty of time to worry about them later. John hangs his coat up carefully on the coat rack and turns to you expectantly.

“Thank you for going out there with me. That was a lot of fun,” You exclaim while rubbing your hands together to bring back the feeling in them.

“It can't happen again, but you're welcome,” He looks genuinely sorry.

“I know,” You understand the danger, but you wish things were different, “Are you hungry? I can make us some mean pancakes.”

“Sure, Ms. Y/N,” Once again, John is smiling at you and it's enough to ignite even the coldest parts of you. There was no way on earth you could keep trying to avoid him when he made you feel this way with just a smile.

Breakfast went off without a hitch. Well, there may have been a minor hitch involving the pancake batter, but John stepped in and saved the day. He ended up offering to take over the process entirely, and you agreed. That gave you a chance to watch him do something besides stand still and look all serious.

Once you’re done eating and all the breakfast dishes are clean, you scurry back to your library with John right behind you. Your journal and miscellaneous papers are still spread around the floor from the night before. John had really given you some wonderful stories to fuel your imagination, and now it's time to incorporate them into your book.

By the door, John stands perfectly still, aside from the sly glances he throws your way. Seeing him stand over there by himself tugged at your heartstrings a bit after the eventful morning you've had. It suddenly felt very selfish to have someone on their feet, at attention, all day and night just for you. From your seat on the floor, you gesture to the chair right beside you.

“You can sit down if you want. I'm sure you can still protect me from any threats just as well over here.”

“Thank you for the offer, Ms. Y/N, but it's in your best interest if I stay here.”

“Are you sure?” You think for a moment and then continue, “What if I said I felt way more safe with you sitting next to me?”

John gives you a hint of a smile before quickly resuming his professional poker face, “I really shouldn't… but if it makes you feel safer, I guess I can do that.”

You lean over and pat the cushion of your comfy chair, encouraging him to sit. He makes his way over to you and sits in your chair, sinking down into it like it was made for him. After a few minutes of sitting together in silence as you worked, you begin to wonder when the last time he was truly able to relax was.

“Hey John?” You look up at him, journal in hand.

“Mhm?” His voice thick with unease as he looks down at you.

“Can I read you some of what I have written so far? Will you tell me what you think?”

“Sure.”

Ever so slowly, John starts to truly relax as he listens to you. He spreads his legs just so and lets his shoulders ease back into a comfortable position, listening to you intently as you tell him your story enthusiastically. You stop occasionally to get his opinion on a set of dialogue or how a sentence is phrased and he's more than happy to advise you. By the end of the day with him, you've completely filled another notebook and you've fallen totally head over heels for John.

The next few days pass by in a blur. John assists you in nearly completing your book, lets you sneak outside again (a couple, glorious times), and he even makes breakfast for you on Saturday morning.

On Saturday evening, knowing that he'll have to leave soon, you convince him to have a movie night with you by letting him pick whatever movie he wants. You make a huge bowl of popcorn for the occasion and get settled on the couch while John peruses your Uncle's movie collection. He decides on an obscure western you've never heard of, and settles onto the couch, leaving one seat's worth of space between you for the popcorn bowl.

Subconsciously, you wish he was sitting closer, but you'll have to settle for accidentally touching hands while reaching for popcorn at the same time.

So far, the movie is a total snoozefest. You wouldn't dare say that to John, considering he seems to be enjoying it. If it weren't for his proximity to you keeping your heart racing, you definitely would have nodded off by now. Surprisingly quickly you run out of popcorn, so you set the bowl on the coffee table to get it out of the way and break down that final barrier between you and John.

Half way through the movie, you find yourself scooting inches closer to John. You hope he doesn't notice, but something about him just has a magnetic pull that draws you in effortlessly.

Now three fourths of the way through the movie, you start to feel brave. Taking notice of how lonely his hand looks resting on his thigh, you make the bold move to place your hand over his during a particularly high action scene. His hand is warm against yours and the feeling sends tingles through your fingertips.

You're pleasantly surprised when John doesn't shrug you off, but instead looks over at you with a small smile, before lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart is thumping inside your chest as he gives your hand a squeeze, but you're sure it's going to explode when he lets go of your hand to pull you into his lap.

Your senses are overwhelmed as you get a light whiff of the warm spice of his cologne as you lean in close, taking all of him in. His hands are gently holding your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. You look to him for silent permission before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. The feeling in the air is positively electric as his lips meet yours.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours. John's the one who breaks away from you first, looking absolutely debauched. His hair is slightly tousled, cheeks and lips are brushed red, and the lustful look in his eye is burning a hole right through to your center.

It's him who decides to ignore the tenting in his pants and politely recommends that you go to bed. As much as it kills you to do so, you reluctantly peel yourself off of him and go straight to your room to take another painfully cold shower.

Your entire night is filled with another round of tossing and turning mixed with racy dreams featuring your bodyguard, who never finds his way into your room throughout the night. You assume he's keeping watch from the living room, only slightly neglecting his duties of having an eye on you at all times.

Saying goodbye to John the next morning may have been one of the most difficult things you've ever had to do. No amount of begging or tears could have changed Diego's mind. ‘Getting attached to these people is like falling in love with a mutt you know you can't keep. They're here for your protection, Y/N, not for you to play with.’ His words stung. Even if it was the truth, you didn't want to hear it.

With tears in your eyes, you watch through one of the library windows as John's car retreats down the driveway. The hole in your chest feels massive, like it’s destined to swallow you whole if you aren't careful. Holding yourself tight, you curl up in your comfy chair and cry. It's the only thing you can muster the energy for.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You're startled awake from your sleep by loud, insistent thuds of the brass door knocker echoing throughout the otherwise silent house. You're not sure how long you’ve been out for, but the sun has gone down and the only light left is coming from the crackling embers in the fireplace. Rubbing your eyes, you drag your feet to the front door and open it without thinking twice.

Standing on the other side is a wall of a man. He has to be taller than John by at least half a foot, and twice as wide. He's wearing a simple black suit, not unlike something one of your bodyguards would wear during their time here. That must be it, he’s the newest guard hired by Diego. Since you had been asleep, you haven't checked your phone yet to see if you had any missed calls from him.

“Y/N, I assume?” His voice sounds like gravel, in an unpleasant sort of way. It lands roughly on your ears and makes you wince.

“That would be me. Did Diego send you?”

The man ignores your question and gestures towards the foyer, “Can I come in? It's freezing out here.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, come on in.”

As you step back to allow him through, he slams a massive hand against the door, knocking it wide open and shoving you harshly onto the floor. Before you can make sense of what's going on, he's got a hand in your hair, dragging you further into the house.

You kick and scream as he lugs you down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. You try digging your nails into the back of his hand but he doesn't seem affected by the pain as he picks you up off the floor and tosses you onto the bed. The second he lets go of your hair, you scramble off the bed and towards the door. In a flash, the man grabs you by the ankles and drags you back over to the bed.

This time, when he chunks you on the mattress, he produces a gun from his waistband and places the cold barrel directly against your forehead.

“Don't move again or I'm gonna blow your fuckin’ brains out.”

Your eye twitches as you stare at him, afraid to even blink. He puts the gun back in his waistband and reaches into a pocket inside of his suit jacket. Out of his it, he pulls a pair of shiny metallic handcuffs.

You're tempted to make another run for it, but you recall the feeling of his gun against your skin and you decide better of it. He grabs one of your wrists and slaps a cuff onto it, and when he reaches for your other wrist, you snatch it away.

This appears to be your second mistake of the night. The man rears back and slaps you harder than you've ever felt before.

“Stop acting like a brat,” He hisses at you.

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as pain shoots through the side of your face. You barely register it as he successfully grabs your hand and places the remaining cuff around your wrist a little too tightly. The cuffs dig into your skin painfully, taking your mind off of the pounding in your head.

The mystery man paces around the room checking the windows and shutting the bedroom door before stopping in front of you. He places a hand on your shoulder and clears his throat to speak.

“All right, listen. Here's how this is gonna go. When I get the go ahead from my Boss, I'm gonna kill you. Until then, we wait.”

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and your brain starts to spiral into full blown panic mode. There's no way you can muscle your way out of this. You could try playing the money card, he might fall for it.

“You don't have to do this. Do you want money? My uncle can pay you double whatever your boss is paying. Call him, I'm sure he-” The man presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up.

“Stop talking.”

With that, he goes back to pacing around the room, occasionally checking his phone for that green light to take you out. Your mind races a million miles an hour as you pull against the handcuffs, knowing you can't slip out of them. Sniffles fill the room while your eyes start watering again. The man gives you a disgusted look as your breathing quickens and your lip trembles.

“Are you really crying right now? Give me a fuckin’ break. This is just business. Eye for an eye type deal,” He snarls before going back to the window.

“Shit. Shit!”

He sees something he clearly doesn't like, and backs away from the window. In a huff, he's grabbing your arm, and snatching you off of the bed. You resist, pulling away from him and stumbling backwards. The man growls before charging at you, grabbing your waist, and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” You scream and pound your fists against his back to no avail.

With his other hand, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call that goes unanswered. He hastily leaves the bedroom and carries you down the hall, heading towards the kitchen. You try to grab everything you can as you pass by to try and slow him down: the walls, picture frames, even a curio cabinet that only topples over and smashes, littering the floor with glass. Unaffected by your attempts, he stops in front of the back door, overlooking the patio.

“Hope you like the cold,” He grumbles and opens the door, cold air blasting into the house.

Not giving you a chance to resist this time, he walks out into the snow and tosses you on the ground, landing you hard in the snow.

“Get up, come on,” He's got his gun out again, pointed directly at you, “Towards the trees. Go!”

You try to collect yourself to stand up, but you're shaking so bad that you can barely keep your balance on your bare feet. Lacking the patience to wait for you to get a grip, he tucks an arm underneath yours and starts dragging you along again.

The cold bites against the skin around your cuffed wrists. Your feet are so painfully frozen, they almost feel warm as you try to keep up with the man holding a gun to your head.

It's a long walk to the tree line and by the time you make it there, you can't feel your feet or hands anymore. Your pajama bottoms are soaked through from the snow and you're convinced there's no possible way you can take another step, so you don't. You collapse at the base of the nearest tree, slipping out of his grip.

“Any last words?” The man raises his pistol to your head once more, “I'll make this quick.”

As you look up at him, your attention is drawn to the black outline of a figure running through the snow behind him, about halfway between the house and the trees. Your brows furrow in confusion, prompting the man to turn around and follow your gaze.

“What the fu-” You watch in disbelief as a sickening splatter of blood, bone, and brain matter explodes from one side of his head, tainting the bright white snow with a glistening red. All that can be heard besides your own heavy breathing is the loud crack echoing against the mountains. The light disappears from his eyes as his body crumples beneath him, landing with a soft crunch as the snow packs down underneath.

You'd scream if you could feel any part of your body, but the best you can do is screw your eyes shut and hope you're not next. Your tears freeze against your cheeks as you cry and hold your arms as close to your body as you can for warmth, even if it's futile.

Not long after, you hear fast approaching footsteps stomping through the snow, headed right your way.

“Y/N?!” Your eyes snap open. You know that voice.

“J-J-” With how bad your teeth are chattering, it's hard to speak.

In an instant, John is in front of you, pulling off his coat to wrap around you. He crouches down to eye level with you and places both hands on your cheeks, looking at you, his deep, brown eyes are full of concern.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You're not sure how to answer that question without crying even harder, so you just lift your hands up to show him the cuffs digging into your wrists. He seemingly understands what you're trying to say and turns towards the unmoving heap of a man on the ground. He searches through the man's pockets, pulling out a wallet, a cell phone, car keys, and finally, the keys to the handcuffs. John unlocks the cuffs quickly and tosses them into the snow beside you before gently rubbing the sore areas around your wrists.

“Let's get you inside, hm?”

You nod eagerly and try to stand up with him, but you can't feel your legs and you end up losing your balance again, almost toppling over into the snow. Thankfully, John catches you before you hit the ground.

“I c-can't-”

“Shh, I've got you. Hold on to me,” He reassures you.

With that, John is placing your arm around his neck and picking you up bridal style. The walk back to the house seems even longer and colder than before. You hug his neck tightly as he carries you, hoping that your shaking doesn't bother him too much.

John carries you into the house, past the broken glass and snow that's blown in from the open doors, not stopping until he reaches your safe space, your library. He sets you down in your comfy chair and kneels down while holding your hand.

“We have to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?” His tone is soft and sweet, yet urgent.

Again, you nod and let him help you out of your freezing, wet pajamas. He starts with your bottoms, tucking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down your legs. Next, he pushes the coat he gave you off your shoulders and carefully helps you lift your arms up to slide off your shirt. He dumps them in a soggy pile on the floor next to your chair.

“I'll be right back,” He pats your knee comfortingly before leaving the library.

You sit alone and shivering for a minute until John returns with a big, fluffy blanket.

“Do you think you can take your underwear off by yourself?”

You look at him with wide eyes and then down at your hands. With how bad they are still shaking, and the fact you only kind of have feeling in them now, you aren't sure what you could do by yourself.

“I'll help you. I won't look, just wrap yourself up in this.”

John wraps the blanket around the front of your body, then reaches around behind you to unclasp your bra and places it on top of your shirt in the pile. He kneels down again and reaches beneath the blanket, slowly pulling off your underwear and dropping them on top of your bra. You can feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, and you're glad at least some part of you seems to be warming up.

Now that you're free from the clutches of the wet clothes, John turns away from you to relight the fireplace. While he's occupied, you pull the blanket around your shoulders and hold it closed in front of you, still partially numb to the fact that it was John who came to save you and you did not die back there.

When he's finished with the fireplace, John comes back over and kneels on the floor in front of you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, like you'd float away if he lets you go. He still bears a twinkle of concern in his eyes but he doesn't say anything else. Together, you sit quietly, thawing out your extremities and regaining some of your composure.

You’re first to break the silence once you're feeling properly warm again.

“You came back?” You whisper.

“Of course I did, Y/N. I couldn't stay away.”

#keanuverse secret santa #john wick x you #john wick x reader #bodyguard au #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #john wick #keanuverse #fem!reader

147 notes · View notes

ameliesopp · 4 months ago

Note

Hey I really love your marquis fanfics 🖤🖤

Was wondering if you could do one with a chubby/curvy reader

I feel like he’d like curvy and chubby women since you see them a lot in like renaissance and paintings from other eras

Thanks so much 🖤🖤🦇

Hey, thanks for the request! I I hope you like it, even though it’s a little short. I’m kind of in a creative slump 🫠 Anyway, enjoy🫶

My Venus

Marquis de Gramont x fem!chubby!reader

“Wow. You look stunning”, you hear Vincent’s voice behind you. You’re standing in front of the tall, gold-framed mirror in your shared bedroom, trying on new underwear, and smile softly as you turn around to face him.

“Really? I wasn’t sure if I like it.”

“Why wouldn’t you? It suits you so well”, he says a little surprised as he comes up to you to cup your face and kiss you on the forehead.

Instead of giving a response you pinch a bit of your belly fat, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. Vincent gently tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “That old story again? Do you really think that matters? In any way? Do you think I would have asked you out if I didn’t think you were the most beautiful woman I have ever seen? You know I don’t settle. I always have the best of everything, so that has to apply to you, too.”

You bite your lip as you give him a teary-eyed smile. “That’s really sweet of you to say, but I just don’t see myself that way.”

He stops to think for a second, then he takes your hand.

“Come on. I wanna show you something.”

“Vincent - I’m not wearing clothes”, you giggle as he drags you out of the bedroom.

“And? Show off those beautiful curves of yours!”, he just says joyfully as he pulls you with him towards his favorite room in your shared house: the art room.

“Look. Look at that and tell me what you see”, he says as he points at a statue in the corner. You haven’t seen that before and frown slightly. He keeps buying new art all the time, but usually he can’t wait to show you.

“A…woman?”, you propose, not sure what he’s expecting to hear.

“And she’s what?”

You’re slowly starting to realize what he’s trying to say and your eyes are starting to well up again.

“Chubby”, you say slowly.

“Exactly. You know who that is?”

“No…”

“Venus. That’s Venus. The goddess of love and beauty. And you know why I got her? Because she reminded me of you.”

You sniffle, a tear rolling down your cheek. Vincent wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“That’s who you look like”, he tells you. “You’re a goddess, chérie, and I need you to know that. You are beautiful. In every way. You look like a goddamn renaissance painting. I could look at you for hours. Your body is a work of art and it kills me that you don’t see that. That you don’t see what I see.”

He chuckles lowly as his hands wander up your waist. “And those boobs are just the bonus.”

You giggle, still sniffling, and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Thank you”, you say softly. “I needed that today.”

“Always. And every time you feel insecure, I want you to come in here, look at that statue, and remember who you are. My beautiful, beautiful wife. My Venus”, he says, gently caressing your cheek.

“I love you so much”, you say.

“I love you, too.”

“So you think I should keep the set?”, you ask, nodding down at the underwear.

“Absolutely. But right now, I think you should take it off. Because I want you baaaadly”, he mumbles against your cheek and you blush as you giggle again.

“Well, good thing I want you, too.”

#marquis de gramont fanfiction #marquis de gramont #aew #john wick #john wick 4 #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #marquis de gramont x fem!reader #chubby reader #fanfiction #one shot #fluff #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent bisset de gramont

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moon-my-beloved · 8 months ago

Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me masterlist

A month. She had to wait a fucking month to recover despite her persistence to the chief of being just fine. Getting sent home was not how she wanted things to go. On the other hand, maybe Joseph was right, she probably needed a break. A time to relax and escape from the unruly reality of the world. It’ll be fine, right?

TW: mentions of death, and a bit of stalking but it’s harmless (i think) - xoxo

— September 18, 1996. Location: Minneapolis, MN

It will be an excruciating wait until Laswell can get back on her feet. Reluctantly, under her chief's command, Joseph insisted that she take this time to recover after returning scratched up, worn out, and not having any recollection of how she ended up in the middle of the woods when the helicopter arrived. The chief was more than desperate to give Kate a break.

Amnesia, they had said. Probably caused by the head injury she had sustained when she fell. At least that’s what the doctors at the medical wing kept telling her when she was asked various questions of what she could recall about the event. She had been running away from the attackers, grabbing everything she could before she was bolting into the woods, and after that– there was nothing. A painful ring in her ear could be heard every time she tried to hark back to what might have unfolded that fateful night. She came up blank with every try. It was torment, a hole of anguish making itself comfortable in her chest. A long list of paperwork, meetings, and more paperwork awaited her back at the agency upon her arrival, not even getting a chance to argue that there was no need for her to be on extended leave, that she was fine.

“You're a lucky woman, Laswell. A damn right good analytics as well,” The chief had told her back at the airport, "I need you to be in your best shape if I want you back on the field.”

She didn’t feel lucky at all. She escaped but at what cost? Although the people she worked with weren’t necessarily close to her, lives were taken away— families broken apart. There’s no time for grief, the mission comes first. It always does. She said nothing in return if the slight slump in her shoulders wasn't obvious enough. With that, the chief excused himself, lips pressed to a tight line just as he disappeared through the automatic doors.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she turned, suitcase in hand as she walked to catch her flight back to Minneapolis. It wasn’t a long flight from Virginia, her mind drifting away into a haze of thoughts she had been pondering about these last two days. She had fallen asleep midway through the flight and before she knew it, the plane had already landed. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes, she got up, grabbing her duffel bag from the storage bins. Dread filled her once she stepped out of the terminal building.

“Home sweet home.“ She sarcastically said to herself. It's anything but sweet.

It’s not like she hated coming back home. It worked as a good getaway from where she usually stayed back in D.C. No stacks of papers, no meetings, no missions, no calls to family members to break the news that their husbands, wives, daughters, or sons won’t be coming back home. A setting opposite to what she’s used to. It made Kate feel weird at times— out of place. Those were thoughts to dwell on for later on restless nights. In the meantime, she has to catch a damn taxi to get back to her old flat.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, the woman let out a groan, throwing her duffel bag carelessly on the wooden floor while rubbing the back of her neck. She was beyond exhausted. The painkillers she took on the way here must have kicked in earlier than she anticipated. The pain in her leg would come and go despite the gunshot wound only leaving her with a small scar besides the continuous ringing in her ear. It was odd the more she thought about it. Wounds like these don’t just heal in a week, especially if you are stuck in the middle of fuck-nowhere.

Shaking her head, Kate took a good look around her small apartment. It looked the same as how she left it months ago. A bit of dust here and there but it was nothing a good clean couldn't fix. She had taken some paperwork home regarding the mission and had looked through them a thousand times to find anything that could magically refresh her memory. It was useless. Fixing herself a cup of coffee she settled on the couch, spreading the documents on her almost too small table with furrowed eyebrows.

‘Why? Why couldn’t she remember?’

“Shit,” The sun had gone down by the time she stopped trying to get answers to her never-ending questions. Closing the folder rather angrily, she took the cup of coffee to throw down the drain. It had turned cold and left forgotten the second she sat down. She was fighting sleep at this point, dragging her body towards the bathroom and exiting it thirty minutes later with her skin feeling raw. Draping the towel over her neck, she made a beeline towards her room where she immediately let out a groan of content once her body hit the soft sheets. It felt nice as the woman ran her fingers through the fabric. She wasn’t sure if the antibiotics were the ones to lure her to sleep or the familiar scent coming off her blankets. She hasn’t washed them since the last time being here.

That night, Laswell dreamt of being in the woods again.

“How long are you going to be in town for?” Her mom said from the other side of the line.

She had been rudely woken up from the best sleep of her life to the sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand beside her. Her first thought was to ignore it but the damn thing kept beeping. Who the fuck would be calling her so early in the morning? Letting out a huff, Laswell sat up from the confines of her bed, snatching the flip phone off the counter to see who it was. Eyes bleary and unfocused as she scanned the contact name on the screen. ‘Mom’ it read. Squinting her eyes in confusion, she pressed the left button and brought the phone to her ear.

She regretted making that decision now that she’s been on the phone with her mom for more than an hour hearing her nagging and complaining about how she should visit them more often, that they missed her. She almost lost count of how many times she had to remind her mother that it was a difficult thing to do when you work for the government. She stuck to just apologizing if she didn’t want to hear her mother go on a whole debate about how she had ruined her life. She has no time for that, almost letting out a scoff at her empty words. They did not miss her.

“ –ello? Are you there?” The older woman's voice had pulled her back to reality, blinking down at the spoon swirling around the dark liquid as she brought the cup to her lips, the taste of caffeine overtaking her taste buds. “Yes, Mom, I heard you. Joseph gave me a month-long leave.” She announced. Shaking her head at the possibility that she might be stuck with her parent’s continuous pestering. ‘She is really the greatest daughter in the world.’

“Oh well, that’s just wonderful! Maybe you can come by some other day for dinner, it’ll be great.” Her mom said. The excitement in her tone was a bit too forced for Laswell to believe her. She knew that if she did come by for dinner, it would just end in an argument and pile up with the other times their meetings have ended in complete chaos. “Maybe.” She answered, a tense silence making itself known between them upon her monotone response to her mother’s suggestion to ‘bond’. It was awkward after that, her mom making up a half-assed excuse that she had to get ready to meet some of her friends before the call ended.

She won’t be attending dinner with her parents or calling each other anytime soon. Not that she ever did anyway.

Soon, the cold air from the mornings disappeared and the warmth of the afternoons rolled in. It was a cycle. A restless cycle that kept itching the back of Laswell’s brain as the days passed. She had looked over the papers every day, in hopes of catching something she had missed, a singular clue that would create a spark of remembrance in the crevices of her hippocampus. She came up with nothing.

The only abnormal thing she has gotten out of her little ‘scavenger hunt’ was a damn migraine and the same dream every night. She’s in the woods, the same one from that day, following a ceaseless path that seems to take her nowhere but her feet seem to have a mind of their own as if they have been here before, as if they knew all along where this nameless destination is. She wakes up in a cold sweat before she finds out.

She had initially shrugged it off as a result of her fall but the more she went outside to simply enjoy the breeze of the wind, the cheers and cries of children running around the local playground, a woman walking her dog, or even to just grab a bite from the coffee shop across the street, a feeling had poisoned her brain that someone has been following her, watching her. With every glance she took over her shoulder, there was no one, even though she had no doubt and was positive that she saw a questionable shadow from the corner of her eye. Had they come back to get her? Close the deal and seal it shut so she can just be another piece of paper among others?

She wasn’t so sure anymore. She felt like she was going insane the more time passed.

It was a rainy day when the ringing in her ear became too unbearable, palms over her ears in an attempt to make the pain go away and curled up against the cushions of her couch beside the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

She was fine a few hours ago. Woke up at the usual time, made herself breakfast (a cup of coffee), and planted herself on the couch to go over documents, emails, and continued to ignore her mother’s calls. It wasn’t on purpose. She just had her hands full, that’s all. She must have overestimated her capabilities of spending long periods of time in the same sitting-hunched position. Her age was getting to her.

She had taken her medicine already but by the looks of it, it didn’t seem to be working out for her. Letting out a low groan through her gritted teeth, she moved her head to the side to get a better view of the outside. It wasn’t necessarily pouring down, the repetitive noise of droplets hitting wood and trickling down glass soothed her discomfort for just a few seconds as she watched the cars pass by.

Tap, tap, tap.

It was getting dark, the moon creeping its way above the horizon, a good thing knowing that the brightness of the sun would just make the state she was already in, much worse. She doesn’t know how long she had stayed there. Maybe half an hour before she dozed off and had been woken up by that crawling feeling that someone was around. A presence. Sitting up a bit straighter, she peered through the window, rain still falling from the sky created a small mist in the air, but she saw it. She saw you.

An unknown gravitational force had made Laswell bolt up from her spot, not even caring to put on her shoes before she unlocked the door and sprinted outside. She didn’t know what had made her run through the rain so carelessly, the wet dirt and grass digging into her bare feet, just like that day. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead from exhaustion, just like that day. A sense of desperation and relief once she saw the only thing that had saved her from meeting her ultimate death. The trees, the manor, the sweet smell of your sheets, the tea, you. It was you, standing in front of her below the moonlight and the rain. It had been a constant battle these last few days trying to figure out what was true or not but at that moment, she knew. It had been you all along.

You said nothing, eyes peering at her with that same intensity as that night. If Laswell noticed your trembling hands, she didn’t mention it.

The ringing had finally stopped, a clump in her throat making her utter the only three words she could think of.

“I know you.”

A/N: the prologue has come to an end, woohoo!! >< you guys will be seeing a lot of the boys later on when i start working on incoming chapters! for now, please enjoy and again, any feedback is welcomed! 🍂

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slippinninque · 5 months ago

Text

🍷Girl Time🎀

AU SCENE DROP

just some girls hanging out and having fun!

(in which John gets to be happy thus everyone is allowed to as well)

feat: Koji Shimazu x BlackFemReader, John Wick x Helen Wick, mentions of Sofia x Caine

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18 +, cursing, drinking, sexual themes, just-playing-around fic, long fic, author smoked a fattie pls forgive

"Helen!"

"I"m sorry--I needed the points!"

"Wha'd you meean? You're winning! I was an innocent bystander," You shouted after Sofia and Helen's twin screeches, "I didn't want to think of good brother John like that...damn..."

You watched as Sofia held her head in her hands after the assault of Helen's admission. The other woman, red to her ears, snorted and chortled into the game card in her hand.

"I mean, honestly....ya'll went to a class to learn that or something?"

Sofia yelled your name and you broke as you held up your hands as you cried out. Was it in defense? Was it surrender? You didn't know but you were having a grand time.

You don't know what possessed Sofia to get an erotic card drinking game to play for an impromptu girl's night in, ("Hey, it was all the Dollar Tree had! All I needed was to break a $50!") but it was proving to be more entertaining than you thought.

Slapping on a point system definitely heated things up. With every question you refuse to answer, meant taking a shot. A question quickly enough answered meant the other two ladies took a shot.

You spoke on Koji's behalf and Helen spoke on John's. Sofia answered from her experience and a few dalliances you weren't aware of before. Hell, if anyone blew your brows up--it wasn't just Helen.

Eventually, everyone just started taking shots and pulling cards in semi-consistent order. Cabinets were raided for snacks and chasers as liquor and wine was poured. It got to everyone answering the question or everyone seeming it too "boring". It was more of a...communal scaring of the minds. Good stuff.

Abs aching, cheeks hurting and eyes tearing--you looked at the meager pile of cards in your pile. You could not afford another double-shot. Not if you wanted to lose control of your laugh and have Koji think you were in danger if he and the men returned early from their own 'fun night'.

While you aren't sure of how much Helen knew, you didn't want to blow John's spot when you both were invited to spend girl time with Helen while the men caught up amongst themselves.

You and Sofia introduced yourselves as old friends who were in the entertainment industry. You were a party planner while Sophia was a beast in catering--the type of ladies who didn't spend their time selling their blades and bullets for favors and money.

"--irl, are you listening?" Sofia wiped her face with the edge of her shirt, "Pull a damn card!"

Helen fanned herself with her cards, still laughing and you felt yourself starting up again. You hurried to pull a card, you read it aloud.

"Costumes , lingerie, or nothing at all?"

The two other women visibly lost a bit of interest at one of the tamer questions of the evening.

"Oh, that's not so bad..."

"Yeah, I mean men--what?" Sofia caught the wander of your eye and the sudden itch that came to your elbow, "Spill it! What does Mr. Honor like? He's tied you up, at least."

"No! Well, yeah--but wait!" You shook your hands to level your own attention more than theirs, "That don't matter right now--

"Is it the costumes?" Helen picked up when Sofia reached to pour a shot of tequila, "What is it? Policewoman? Femme Fetal? Oh, a sexy pierrot clown--"

"Neither!"

"Neither?"

Helen narrowed her eyes at you and took a very talk to me type of sip of her wine-whisky and Sofia doubling back to mouth, pierrot? to herself.

"You might have to walk with me a bit with this one, Helen--Sofia, you should know. Remember that part in Fresh Prince of Bel-Air when Aunt Viv--

Sofia squinted her features and you corrected, "Erm, the first Aunt Viv. Remembered when The First Aunt Viv told Uncle Phil that she had something to knock his socks off?"

You deepened your voice and straightened your spine as you mimicked your man, "'I'm not wearing any socks, just come out naked' --and I love my man down, but he just don't be caring for that too much. My sweet Kojiji..."

"Oh wow...."

"Are you serious?"

"Mhm! Honestly but Koji still surprises me to this day. I'd be minding my own business and--

Helen slapped her hands together, "Pounce!"

You snapped and pointed at her, "Indeed! I could be in in a shower cap and Crocs and Koji's all over me!"

"Caine's ass is like that too, I wonder if it's a thing from their little wolf-pack thing they have going on." Sophia hummed thoughtfully

Your eyes wandered as you laminated out loud, "I still can't believe that this is how I found that out that y'all be... touchin'."

Sofia only licked her teeth and you faked gagged.

It was very much like finding out your best friend kissed your other best friend and neither told you about it. The high-school of it all made it more hilarious and you intended to milk this betrayal up until Sophia gifts you with a dish of her famous kefta mkaouara .

You refocused when Helen's giggle descended into a cackle. It was a contagious sound and soon the trio of you were set off again, going up an octave when Sofia ended up knocking over the pile of playing cards.

You were delighted that Helen found John. She would keep him good company, keep him grounded. Helen was firecracker when fucked up, and she was a good woman through and through when sober. They were a perfect match.

A stray memory darted across your mind as you reached for the bottle Sofia offered and you snorted quietly yourself.

Helen waved a finger as she took another swig of her wine-whisky mix, "What was that? Spill!"

"Its not even my turn, it's--

"Spill! Spill! Spill!"

You couldn't handle the pressure, you squealed into your hands as your secret pressed up against your teeth. Alcohol loosened your tongue and it was ready to tell your business. You matched Helen's crisscross and clapped your hands to gather your thoughts.

"Weeell....there was this job, in the Poconos of all places, that Koji did not want me to plan for. He didn't like the customer. Met him once before or something like that."

You refilled your cup and continued, carefully editing the bloodier parts of the true story for Helen's sake. Sofia watched you with knowing eyes but eager for the part of the story she wasn't already familiar with.

"I got it done, wasn't a big party but some of my best work. Everyone was taken care of and I ended up getting recommended to plan a few others." You grinned when Sofia who applauded you in snaps, "Put the client in his place on the way out and I got paid. He got what he asked for, another one bites the dust right? Good job, right? Wrong."

That sent Helen into crisscrossing in her seat, "But why?"

"Girl, guess who came to pick me up?"

"Anything but that..." Sofia's words were tucked into a laugh.

"Koji Thee Shimauzallion himself. And guess who else? Mhmm! Your hubby! That man was the only one who knew about it 'cause he was my damn ride!"

Sofia shuffled the deck of playing cards as she thought out loud, "I think I remember this, Caine felt caught in the middle or some other Brotherhood of the Travelling Henley or something..."

Helen gestured for you to handle her the bottle you obliged as she fussed, "How dare he? You're his bro too and women wear Henleys He can't just rat you out like that!"

"Damn fucking right we do and thank you for saying so! Ah... right! I pack all my equipment up and have my little walk of shame to the car. John's driving and Koji is in the front seat, he never sat apart from me, so I'm thinking shit he's really pissed."

"Mind you this was before we were serious-serious, I just liked him a lot at this point. That's important to the story."

Sofia nods, "Of course! 'course."

"Right, right." Helen hummed.

"So. Here we are. John giving me a sorry buddy-ass stare in the rearview, Koji looking out the window and shit lookin' like he 'bout to tell me pack my denman brush and go and I'm low-key pissed because I was having a good night..."

You had to take a breath from your ramble to laugh. You don't know why you did it, but you took a pour from Helen when she forgot to put the bottle back onto the table.

"He tells me how disappointed he was that I would so such a thing and put myself at risk and dootdootdoot," Sofia chuckled at casual your skipping through dirty details, "I tell him I'm grown and I can ki--handle, handle anybody who needs it, he aint' trying to listen..."

You took a breath and scratched your eyebrow, "We're actually starting to have our first argument at this point! We tell we both tell the other didn't like it, but it was new and it was angry and..."

A dramatic pause for effect had Helen leaning in her seat and Sofia posing to throw a peanut at you.

"Kojitoremyassouttheframe," You let it rush out of you in a sigh as you remembered the only fight you were glad to lose, "Yes, baby girls. Yes, he did. He may have not known it then, but he used that good dick for evil that night."

Sofia was folded over and Helen was recovering from nearly snorting wine-magic out her nose. You carried on through your own building hysterics.

"Listen y'all! This is what happened after! This man gonna look at me and tell me if I ever feel like acting out again to come and find him, he'll give it to me again. Girl, I was through. I rolled him a cigarette, too..."

The sound of laughter felt so good to hear, laughing felt so freeing to do. You needed this time more than you realized and was already planning for future gatherings.

Helen sighed, turning her face up to the ceiling to try and get air. She took a supportive sip of liquor as Sofia wobblily searched for her glass.

"Don't let them quiet ones fool you, right Hel'? It's a real mutherfucker up under them puppy dog eyes..."

Helen rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands, breathing in wetly.

"To be comply honest ladies, something similar happened to me with John."

"Oh my God!!"

"Spilly-spill-spill~!"

"Okay, okay! Spill I shall..."

Turns out that John had the audacity to hint that Helen wasn't capable of talking care of herself within the short distance it took to get to her car from her workplace doors.

Helen had the brilliant idea to go out with some girlfriends and not tell John. Fully intending to have a cool story when she returned home about how she was a 'big girl' and could do as she pleased. You gasped and nearly choked while Sofia went off like a low, wide eyed police siren,

"Yyyoooou can't be doing no shit like that, Helen! You ain't scared of shit?"

"Pfft, well yeah... just not Johnny."

Of course you rose you glass to that, "Go off, Helen..."

Helen snorted but gave a little tilt to her head that had you pointing accusingly. Spill.

Sofia caught on and her eyes narrowed, "Yeah, how'd stand of yours end?"

Helen suddenly found her nails very interesting, "Well...."

Helen described the dark look in John's eyes as he stalked into the bar. Helen remembered aloud how he scanned the crowd, finding her as easily as if she were the only one in the room.

"I-I froze! It was so weird and my girlfriends took the blame but he knows me, it was totally my idea!"

"Then what after that? I know good brother John didn't let that fly..." You giggled with Sofia's, knowing how John could get when he felt wronged.

Helen picked up her drink and muttered something into the rim before taking a hearty sip. You squinted as what Helen said fell short of your ears.

"Huh? What was that?" Sofia apparently heard judging from the Cheshire smile on her face, hand cupped to her ear.

Helen's answer was to go from flushed pink to raging red up to her ears, "I said we never made it out the parking lot!"

You pointed and laughed but hoped Helen saw the comradery in it. You got some popcorn and blame thrown your way but couldn't stop laughing. It may have been the liquor or the overload of endorphins--but you were so happy.

You can finally say you had friends.

Smiling dopily at the two women across from you and relaxing into the plush seat, you reached for another card to start more shit.

---------------

✨ending notes✨: This was sooooo much fun to write and a good release!🫣 this idea of an unhinged girl night would not leave me alone, forgive me for any foolishness as i was smoking on my day off 🤣t. i may do a prt2, what do ya'll think?

💜taglist💜: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @harmshake @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @ellethespaceunicorn

@astoldbyaja @ms-angiealsina @kindofaintrovert @soft-persephone @mcondance

@miyuhpapayuh

#Koji Shimazu #Koji Shimazu x blackreader #Koji Shimazu x blackfemreader #Koji Shimazu x black!fem!reader #x blackfemreader #John Wick fic #John Wick (film)#Koji Shimazu fic #x blackreader #silly fic #i just wish we could have seen more of john's life when helen was alive and when he had friends #kojjiiiii

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astoldbyaja · 7 months ago

Text

Osaka Sunbird

One shot on what would happen if Koji Shimazu didn't die after his fight with Caine. What if a past love actually saved him?

Koji Shimazu x Black Female OC

In Another Life

Koji Shimazu gasped hard, his body jolted almost as he saw a white ceiling. Was this the afterlife? He moved to sit up but the sudden pain to his body made him still. His vision was a tad blurry, he didn’t have his glasses on.

“Akira…” he rasped lowly. Where was his daughter? He remembered fighting Caine, the final blow, and his vision going dark in his daughter’s arms. “Akira!”

A high-pitched noise made him look to the side, it almost sounded like someone was shushing him? He saw blurred flowers painted on walls and that alone was familiar to him. He was in one of his hotel rooms. It wasn’t demolished? There was silence now and he tried to move his hands only to see his wrists chained to the bed. What was going on.

“What is this!” he shouted, a panic overcoming him mixed with confusion of his surroundings and fear he didn’t know where his daughter was. “AKIRA!” His chest hurt but he didn’t care. Suddenly the door of the room slid back and a black figure stood there. Koji was still as he saw the slim figure of someone in a black mask with two white dots side to side and a big wide smile painted beneath.

“You are like a baby, not knowing when to be silent!” the female voice hissed. The African accent made Koji recoil. He was familiar with that tone.

“Gemini Abara… what are you doing here?” he rasped. The woman crossed her arms.

“Protecting you. Mother heard John Wick had been here and knew there would be trouble so she tasked me with locking down your hotel and cleaning it up so you can get back to running it.” she said almost with a pout. Koji was heavily confused. Why would she be here after all these years.

“My daughter… Akira, she is injured.” he said swiftly. He needed to know if she was alive. Gemini gave a curt nod.

“I have birds out looking for her right now.” she informed. He sighed with mild relief, hoping that she was safe. She knew of many safe havens to go to if the hotel was ever under siege. The masked woman struts over to him before reaching into her suit pocket and pulling out his glasses. She put them on his face, uncuffed his hands, then went over and pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing her legs and tapping her black boot up and down.

“My staff?” he asked.

“Those who can be saved will be saved, the dead will be buried all expenses will go the Abara Family. As of right now your hotel is simply... under construction.” she informed. Koji shook his head.

“I should be dead.” Koji said and Gemini nodded.

“I wanted to let you die. You brought my mother nothing but pain yet she told me to do all I could to bring you back. Luckily Caine still decided to spare your life. I guess you both having a daughter gave him a change of heart.” she said venomously. Koji inhaled some and looked down at his body finally having the will power to sit up. His body was bandaged and the bullet wound he had was cleaned and bandaged.

“And what will the High Table think of one of its own going against them?” he asked. The woman was silent as the sound of heals on marble floor came gently down the hall. Koji looked toward the door and Gemini stood up as the door slid open. His eyes slowly filled with emotion as a woman entered. She was aged like Koji, but her milk chocolate skin showed no cracks of age. Her once long curly hair was now shoulder length and black. Her body was still very much in shape as she stood with poise. She was in a red dress and red headdress.

“Amara.” Koji said breathlessly. The woman looked at her daughter and just nodded. Gemini bowed and exited the room leaving the two alone. Amara looked at Koji with warmth in her soft green eyes and slowly approached.

“Hello Koji.” she said gently moving to bring the chair closer to sit down beside him. Koji looked almost mesmerized as the woman smiled at him. “Considering everything, you look well.”

Her voice was like music to his ears, a melody he had missed for over twenty years.

“Amara I- ” he was a loss of words. Slowly Amara shook her head.

“Don’t speak. I have everything taken care of here.” she said assuredly. Koji still shook his head.

“Your brother sits on the High Table. They’ve released the Marquis to capture John Wick. The hotel was deemed deconsecrated.” he said. Amara just placed her hand gently on his chest gently shushing him.

“It’s alright. My brother owed me a favor and a marker.” she replied. Koji raised his hand and slowly placed it over hers, even going so far as to gently hold it.

“You wasted a marker on me, Amara-”

“Some things go further than markers… like brotherhood and a love we once shared for each other.” she said. Koji stared at her stunned before the door slid open again. Gemini came in.

“Intombi ka-Osaka ifunyenwe.” she informed. (Osaka’s daughter is found). Amara nodded.

“Mziseni apha.” she commanded and Gemini nodded and closed the door. Amara looked at Koji with a smile before slowly standing.

“Your daughter has been found and she will be here any moment. I leave you to repair your hotel and restore it to its excellency. Your doctors should be able to take your medical care from here.” she replied. She began to withdrawal, but Koji quickly took hold of her hand before she was too far away.

“Amara… thank you.” he said. The woman smiled and gave a brief nod before moving to the door. “And you are wrong…”

She paused and turned to him curiously as he just shook his head.

“The love we once shared is incorrect. My love for you will always burn bright in my heart.” he said. Amara stared at him for a moment before smiling lovingly at the healing manager. Her hand came up to gently graze his soft skin. Oh how she missed his touch.

“As my love for you.” she said before turning and moving out the door. Her footsteps echoed in his mind as they grew faint, just like when she left all those years ago.

Amara walked down the halls of the hotel with power and strength. As she passed through the hallway, figures in red suites and masks moved to stand behind her silently falling in line two by two to escort her through the halls. As they got down to the lobby which was being cleaned and decontaminated, an injured Akira was being held by the side by one of her guards. As she limped through looking around heavily confused as to what was going on, she was passing the woman in red.

She knew this woman, Lady Amara Abara, sister of the High Table Roman Abara and sister of Poison Master, Satin Abara. The Abara Family was very well known and for a member to be here confused the young concierge. But Amara would not look her way as she walked.

Koji lied back against the bed thinking of the woman who was just here. The woman who could bring him to his knees in seconds. Memories of the past rolled into his mind.

“We were fools to think our families would allow us to be together. Our paths did not involve each other.” Koji said and Amara closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

“For being powerful people, we are completely powerless when together and that will result in weakness.” she admitted.

“Goodbye, Amara.” he said.

“Goodbye, Koji…”

The door slid open and Akira was brought in.

“FATHER!” she cried out and Koji looked at her with tears in his eyes as the two embraced. Overwhelming joy filled his body as his daughter was alive and well. He pulled back to look down her body.

“Your wound.” he said. Akira shook her head.

“There are medical staff here… Father I thought you were… How?” she asked. Koji slowly looked toward the door.

“It seems we owe a large gratitude to Lady Amara Abara and her Sunbirds.” he said. Akira looked at her father’s face seeing that look of longing. She has noticed that look many times when discussion of The Abara Family came up around him. She wasn’t a fool, she had known for a very long time her father was not truly in love with her mother, even if he treated her with love and respect. She remembered her mother telling her there are two kinds of love: loving someone and being in love with them. Her father loved her mother, but he was in love with another. She finally looked back at the door remembering the look of strength on Lady Amara’s face as she led her assassins from the building. It was her. She looked down slowly before looking up at her father.

“Maybe you will see her again.” she said. Koji looked down at his daughter giving a gentle smile.

“Maybe… in another life.”

------------

Author’s notes

So if you’ve read my Pink Blossom, I feel this is just another life of where Grace and Ujio found each other. Now I do have a chapter started about the youth of Koji Shimazu and Amara Abara, but I’m still deciding if I want to work on it. But we will see hehe

Taglist

@slippinninque

#Koji Shimazu #Koji Shimazu x black reader #Koji Shimazu x blackfemreader #Koji Shimazu fic #John Wick 4 #Koji x black fem reader #koji x blackfemreader #Hiroyuki Sanada

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howlsofter · 2 years ago

Text

“You want this. You were just begging for it.”

Boyfriend!JohnWick gets tired of his bratty gf

quick one shot, smut, soft dom John wick

2.7k words

I don’t get to see him too often. Likely way more than the average person, but not as much as I’d like. Before, we both had our respective contracts, but I’ve been staying lowkey recently. I have more than enough money saved up, and as long as I’m not summoned by the boss I try to stay out of side work. For now.

It’s dangerous having John around, I know, but I can’t help it. I just want to see him so bad, and he wants to too or he wouldn’t keep coming back.

He arrived the night before, unexpectedly. I knew it was him from the peep hole. He was looked exhausted, waiting stiff in my living room as I air fried him frozen taquitos. It takes him awhile to decompress, to crack through John the assassin. I nudge at his foot under the table as he eats, peering out the window of my tiny kitchen. He leans back when he’s finished, looking to me for the first time since he’s sat. His eyes sink under the table, registering my comfortable look. He’s seen me like this before, old black sweatpants, a tshirt, some fuzzy socks. I need to buy him a comfy outfit.

“Yummy?” I ask, he moves under the table, trapping my feet between his dark leather shoes.

“Delicious,” he gives me the satisfaction of a response. I tap my short nails against the table top before reaching out for my water.

“Are you hurt?” He kinda shrugs, finally pushing off his heavy jacket. Seemingly unscathed, uncommon but good news. He straightened out his shoulders and relaxed back against the kitchen chair.

Getting undressed for the night, I slide off my sweatpants, watching John undo his shirt.

“Is it hard dealing with the fact that I’m stronger than you now?” I tease him, breaking the silence. I was used to it by now, but I’m not scared of breaking it with John, he he doesn’t want to engage he simply won’t.

“Maybe it would be, if you were,” he responds, turning his head to the side as he speaks but not looking at me.

“Don’t lie to yourself, John,” I say as earnest as possible. John doesn’t reply, sliding off his shirt and kicking off his shoes.

He crawls up on the bed, still wearing his slacks. He reaches out to grab me and I dodge him, sliding over and squealing. He moves quicker, getting a hold of my thigh and easily wrapping his large hand around it. He drags me over so swiftly, I almost don’t feel it.

I start to dodge him again as he goes for my arms, I go for his as well. I catch his left wrist but he twists out of my grip and catches my right hand. It knocks me off guard and he’s already disarmed my left, pinning my arms above me on the bed with one hand, his other holding down my hips.

I shift around and try to release my hands, but I can only get him to give a few inches before he’s pushing them back further into the memory foam.

“Oh, you’re so much stronger than me?” He teases now, pushing his body weight into me. I sink back farther, continuing to struggle. The more I do, the weaker I feel. He’s been watching me fight him the whole time, a small smirk shadowing his lips. “Say it. Say I’m stronger.”

I shake my head no, closing my eyes so his can’t stare into my soul. He tsks, exposed skin warm up against my torso, his jeans rough against my thighs. He uses his thigh to push my legs apart but I fight him.

With the hand he had against my hips he reaches down, his body weight holding me in place enough. Using his leg and his hand he continued to try to force them open, but my thigh strength is surprisingly stronger than my arm. With no luck, he sinks into my neck, pressing a kiss there before he’s biting me.

I whine out in surprise, pleasure and pain, going weak under him for just long enough for John to invade.

He slid between my unclothed legs, pressing his crotch right up against me. “Not going to say it?” He asks again, I shake my head again, eyes still closed. John catches my jaw with his hand, making me look at him. I blink back in shock.

“I know you were teasing anyways,” his hold on my chin loosens, stroking the soft skin connected to my neck with his fingers, “instead, tell me how bad you want me right now.”

I smile a little, because I want to tell him. But something inside me begs for me to disobey. “I don’t,” I argue, responding to quick to think it through. John actually chuckled a little, but I could tell I was starting to actually piss him off.

He grinds against me, running his hand up under my shirt and over my ribs.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses, the zipper of his jeans pressed against me, the friction rubbing just right. He massages my skin under his hand, continuing the motions as I mewled and arched to feel him.

He pulls away suddenly, releasing my hands and sitting up, unpinning me from the bed. “Fine, if you dont want it…”

I reach up to grab him quickly, one hand on his upper arm and the other on his belt loop, pulling him back into position.

“Who said I didn’t?” I ask, he reaches down to jeans.

“You.” He scoffs, “tell me you do then,” he undoes the zipper and slips them past his thighs without breaking eye contact, kicking them off. He still refused to touch me, hovering, waiting.

I whine first, thrashing in a mini tantrum before I laid flat, “fuck, John…”

It’s so hard to just admit it, even when it’s painfully obvious, “please, please fuck me. I want it so bad,” I say it quietly, pulling him in closer with my thighs and lifting my hips to press my panties back against his boxers. His cock is so hard, the tip peeking up passed the waistband and pressed against his stomach. It was thicker than most, enough to fill me up completely, it was the length that drove me mad. It left me soar for days after, I could always feel right up in me where John’s cock had pushed the limits.

I hooked onto his hips, rubbing up the length of his cock through the materials, John swallows, still just looking over me in thought.

“Really, baby?” He finally responds, breaking into a soft smile as he coos for me to submit. He catches my hips, his hands taking up most of the space there. I wiggle in his hold just a little, enough to annoy him so he’ll me still.

I clench my jaw, nodding slightly. It’s not enough for John, “beg me more, if you really want it,” he commands in a low voice. I bite my lip and suddenly John is on my neck again. He’s sucking this time, biting but not rough. It feels soooo fucking good I’m whining in seconds, trying to grind against him again but his hands hold me firm. My neck is incredibly sensitive, my pussy throbbing and stomach aching in desire the longer John kissed up. I pushed him away with my arms but his chest doesn’t budge.

“I really want it,” I breathe out, “I really really really want it, please,” John stops biting and lapping and presses a kiss against the spot, sitting up to catch my lips. He releases his grip on me to go for my underwear, pulling them down without hurry. I pull my legs up to help him take them off, his boxers next. I wrap back around him and reach out to touch him, stroking him a few times before he breaks the kiss to swag my hand away. He takes it up to his mouth, pressing my palm there against his lips in a small kiss as he takes his cock.

“Are you going to be good?” He asks me, letting go of my hand and reaching down, sliding his fingers through the folds of my pussy. He slowly rubs the top, small circles over the area of my clit, I hum and shift closer to his touch. He’s never this talkative in real life, he’s told me before he’s trying to savor the moments. He doesn’t get to see me like this in real life, whiny, submissive. I only get like this for him, and he annoys the brat right out of me.

I hate it though, it makes me blush with every command. It’s embarrassing, giving him so much power over me, but when I do he feels so good.

I’m already wet, he lets go of his cock to reach into me. His finger slides in easy as I answer a soft ‘yes’ and moan. He curls up inside me, pressing the finger on my clit with a little more pressure as he reaches up against my gspot repeatedly. It feels so good already, I press down against them, holding my breath.

“Fuck me, please,” I beg him under my breathe, staggering out the words. John doesn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled his fingers from inside of me and wiped them off on his cock, the tip leaking. He strokes himself a few times, looking down over me. I lay almost flat on the bed, using most of my strength to hold my hips up in the air, thigh on either side of John who sat up on his knees. I watch intently as he reaches out for my thigh, helping support me as his other goes to press the tip of his cock in between my folds. He carefully drags his cock against me, not entering me and letting it get slick. It feels good as a start, he moves up to holding my hips, gasping quietly each time he slid against me. When he felt I was ready he took his cock again, slowly pressing the head against my entrance, his other hand steadying and gripping me tighter to make up for the lack of support as he pushed the head into me. I let out a soft cry, it hurts for the moment, he pushed in just enough to where he can slide out and in without pulling completely out. I’m trying my best to hold my hips up, the farther he presses into me, the easier it is for him to continue and the better it feels. He eases in with a few more slow strokes, bending over and pressing open mouth kisses against my collarbones and neck.

He’s almost completely in when I reach my limit, my knees closing up to push him back. I whine and he gives me a moment to recouperait, a hand trying to keep my legs from moving. He continues his slow pace, still inching deeper and deeper into me, I continue to fight with him.

“You want this, you were just begging for it,” he reminds me, pulling out and grabbing my legs, he pins them together by my knee and pushes me back against the bed, my knees together at my side, he uses one hand to hold them down. His other slides over my ass, he guides himself back into me and I stretch out over the bed. As he gets deeper I reach up for him again but he’s already ready to catch my hand, bending over as he hits inside of me.

I suck the air inbetween my teeth quickly, bracing as he pushes farther up against me. He’s stayed so stoic but fully in he groans, his jaw slightly ajar as he continues to fuck me. It hurts so good, each time he ruts up inside of me I ache.

I can’t stop my moans, fighting his hold til he’s gripping me so hard his knuckles are white. He’s gained his composure mostly, I cry into the sheets and he lets go of my hands, brushing my hair back from my neck.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slamming to me again, he’s breathing heavy, his voice almost shaky.

I can’t even respond, nodding as I gasp and swallow, not even making an effort to sit up. “Fucking brat, look at you now,” he slows down, not hitting me quite as deep. Bending over to lick my nipple, sucking on it for a moment before he’s kissing me again. He slowly fucks half into me, holding my hips up for me this time. It feels nice after being used, I look up at him lazily, still on my side.

He separates my legs without any resistance from me, sliding his thump up against my clit. He rubs in careful circles and I close my eyes, focusing on the pleasure.

John is enamored, he can’t rip his eyes from my face, speeding up his motions. The more desperate I get the more cocky he seems, awwing at me as I try to rock with him. “Feel good?” I nod. “Tell me,” he almost growled.

“No,” I joke through my breathing, John snaps into me and I cringe completely. It knocks the breath out of me, “yes~ fuck, it feels so good,” it falls out of me easy as he continues to go slow.

My moans get higher pitch and John speeds up slightly, he nods as I whimper for him, pulling him closer. He kisses me again, sweet and hot. It was sloppy but his lips felt so nice against mine, both of us breathing heavy. He nudges my nose, keeping our faces close as I get closer. My legs and body get shaky, my hold on John’s upper arm tightens and my arm I’d tossed loosely over his neck is now forcing him to stay in my proximity.

My mouth is open, breathing in short gasps and letting out stuttered exhales. I try to keep myself quiet, I have apartment neighbors, but I can’t help my calls for John. He loves them too, each time I repeat his name in a beg, getting closer and closer, John replied back to me with a soft sound like reassurance. I squeeze around his cock and feel him fill everything, John is controlling his own breathing manually.

When I cum I go silent, going stiff as John slows inside of me. His thumb continues in speed, hips carefully pressing as full as he can up in me as I squeezed and spasmed around him. His thumb only lets up when I start to twitch away from him, completely overstimulated. John whispers praises against my neck, kisses me and slowly starts to fuck me again. I mewl in exhaustion, asking him to be careful is just begging for him to be rough, instead I’m watching him. Eyes half lidded, he feels really really good still, but each stroke makes my muscles tight. John’s being sweet to me now, careful solid strokes as he works to pleasure himself. He touches me everywhere and I reach out to touch him back, dragging my hand over his scarred torso.

He’s getting closer when he picks up, sloppier sharper strokes. John kisses me messy before his hand is around my neck. He never grips my neck tight, I’ve told him he can but he refuses, but just the placement makes me feel weak. He holds me down again, “such a good fucking girl,” he mumbles before he’s using me again. I’m too weak to fight the stimulation, throwing my respect for the neighbors out the window as I cried out. John’s hand went from my neck to my mouth, cupping my cheek and forcing his thumb into it. He looks down at me in pleasure, I bite down on it but he doesn’t flinch.

He drops his head, looking down at our bodies meeting before he’s steadied. A few long slow strokes and a sudden inhale and he’s cumming deep inside of me. I can feel it, each twice of his cock more warm cum coated my bruised insides.

John exhales and kisses me a final time before pulling out of me. "I'm going to actually fight you next time."

#john wick: chapter 4 #john wick smut #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick one shot #john wick gif #john wick dom #fanfiction #smut #x reader #fem reader

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multific · 3 months ago

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Curves of Confidence

Vincent De Gramont x Reader

Summary: You believed that no one is truly happy with their body. But with someone like Vincent, it was easier to learn to love yourself.

Vincent De Gramont had a way of looking at you that made the world disappear.

It wasn’t the kind of gaze that burned more than desire, it was deeper, more intense.

His dark eyes lingered on you as though you were a masterpiece in a gallery, something to be admired and cherished.

Like the Mona Lisa herself.

From the beginning of your relationship, his affection had been unwavering.

His support was as strong as his arms.

But your insecurities about your body sometimes did come back to haunt you.

You got used to hiding yourself.

You were often wearing loose clothing, avoiding mirrors, and brushing off compliments.

Yet Vincent refused to let you hide from him.

One evening, you stood in front of a grand mirror in his penthouse, brushing your hair.

He came to stand behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

His hands rested gently on your stomach, and his lips found the curve of your neck.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You gave a small laugh, shrugging off the comment just like you always do.

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer to him.

“I never say anything I don’t mean. Look at yourself, Mon Amour.”

You raised your eyes to the mirror once more, looking deeper at the reflection. You smiled at your reflection. Wrapped in the embrace of a man so powerful.

Vincent’s reflection was captivating, as always.

His tailored suit, his sharp features, and that air of elegance only he could possess.

But your gaze hesitated when it fell on yourself.

Vincent’s hands moved, tracing the curve of your hips with such affection and tenderness.

“Every inch of you,” he whispered into your ear, his voice low and seductive, “is perfection to me. These hips, this waist, the softness of it. It’s everything and more than I’ve ever wanted.”

You turned in his arms, your eyes searching his face for any hint of joke or lie. But all you saw was love, so raw and genuine it made your breath stop.

“You really mean that?” you whispered.

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“I adore you. Every curve, every part of you. It’s mine to cherish. Don’t ever doubt that. I believe I have spent my fair time proving it to you, between your legs, above or under you, Mon Amour.”

His lips found yours in a kiss that melted away every insecurity, every harsh thought you’d ever had about yourself or every harsh word that someone said to you.

In Vincent’s arms, you felt not just loved but celebrated.

Slowly, you started to believe him, to see yourself through his eyes.

You wore dresses that clung to your curves, held your head higher, and smiled more often.

One night, as you twirled in front of him in a gown he’d picked out, a deep red number that hugged every curve perfectly, his smile was radiant.

“You’ve always been breathtaking. But seeing you like this, so confident... it’s everything I’ve dreamed of.”

You crossed the room and placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your fingers.

“It’s because of you, Vincent. You make me feel like I’m enough. More than enough.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your lips, then your shoulder.

“You’ve always been more than enough, My Love. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it.”

"Thank you." you replied with tears of happiness in your eyes.

In his arms, you had found not just love but confidence that made you shine.

Vincent had worshipped you from the beginning, and now, you were finally learning to worship yourself.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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feinv · 11 months ago

Note

hii can i request small hc’s of what kinks john wick has?

hi anon, thank you for the request, i hope i did justice :)

tbh i don’t think canon-typical jw is too kinky so i will keep this as “realistic” as possible. but if yall want more darkish mad kinky jw shoot an ask i will do part 2! <3 nsfw.

size kink.

he loves loves loves how small you are compared to him, and your height and weight don’t change a damn thing because he is just so tall and muscular that he manhandles you either way. he looses his mind when during specific positions he can see your belly bulge slightly and he can spot the faint outline of his dick, putting his large palms on it to feel himself. he absolutely gets off on how your frame clings to him for support in any situation, intimate or not. he just loves that he can wrap himself around you and basically shield you from everyone and everything. he loves being your protector.

slight choking.

he would refuse to do anything that can potentially harm you so he would much rather you choke him. of course even if you put your whole strength and energy into the act you wouldn’t really be able to do much than “slight” choking. but it gets him turned on either way. the blood momentarily rushes to his groin when he feels your soft hands wrap around his neck. he indulges in this mostly because he let’s himself be vulnerable and exposed to you which makes him feel human. and you are the only person he trusts so it is done on emotional level too in a sense.

hair pulling.

if you have longer hair he might tug on it every now and then, but he finds it degrading to pull your hair to the point that it might hurt. but when you do it? he would groan and whimper like a teenager. he loves when you pull him hard by his hair to guide his head when he is buried in between your thighs. your wish was his command anyway, but when your fingers are grabbing his soft raven hair, he would burn down the whole world if you asked.

breeding.

oh my god.

if you two are having unprotected sex and you don’t want children yet or ever, he won’t ever pressure you into indulging in a breeding act. he knows it’s too risky and he respects you and your body.

if you are on some form of birth control, he might actually feel himself going insane. he would fill you up so much, again and again, not letting a drop go to waste. at some point you think the pill won’t do a justice with the frequency john spends his load in you.

©️feinv, 2024.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick smut #john wick x fem!reader #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfiction #john wick 2 #john wick 3 #john wick chapter 4 #john wick drabbles #john wick x fem reader #john wick imagine #feinv—jw

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lonewolfwriting89 · 2 years ago

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GAMES WE PLAY

Vincent De Gramont “Marquis” x Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Smut.

A/N: Just a short little smutty drabble, saw John Wick 4 not long ago and yeah, I was suitably distracted. Anyways, another venture into another fandom! I hope you enjoy 😘 xoxo

————

Rejoining the conversation you stayed close to him, his arm around you as though you’d been that way all your lives. You waited until he was engrossed in conversation with a member of the High Table and then caught his eyes. Running your tongue over your lips, you smiled and his words faltered ever so slightly. Knowing you were having the effect you wanted you purposely ate slowly, eyes locked to Vincent’s. Soon his face was slightly flushed and he was clearing his throat. When you were sure you had his attention you drew the edge of your champagne glass down your throat letting it trail over your cleavage lightly before setting it down. His eyes followed the path of the glass with a predatory gaze and you excused yourself to the others.

Turning to whisper to him softly before standing you said huskily against his ear, “I want you inside me..now”.

Vincent sat upright in his chair and you laid a hand on his suit covered shoulder smiling softly as you stood and moved toward the corridor. You thought he would wait, give it a moment so it was less conspicuous and perhaps meet you there but before you could get through the door you felt his hand on the small of your back guiding you from the dining room firmly. No sooner had the door closed he turned, his body pinning you against them.

You smiled slowly in triumph and he arched a perfectly shaped brow. Gripping your wrist he turned and looked around almost desperately. You tried to suppress the laugh but it escaped and he growled tugging you down the hallway toward the first door he saw. You found yourself in a large butlers pantry, forced against the cool wall. His thigh pressed between yours lifted you onto your toes as his hands gripped your wrists pinning them to the wall. You could barely breath and the uncontrolled lust in his eyes was reflected in yours.

“You know I don’t like your little games chéri”.

You smirked, “Your actions say otherwise”.

Vincent took your mouth roughly. Desire like a demand as his tongue parted your lips fiercely. You met his need with your own, heated and urgent as your tongues explored and coaxed the flames higher between you both. Your hands went to his hair, curling into the blonde silken strands. Fingers gripping lightly as you felt him lift you off the floor swiftly. His hands moved up over your ass, drawing your skirt up around your waist to free your legs. He didn't take the time to remove the lacy thong, forcing it aside as you felt his long fingers bury themselves deep inside you for the second time that night.

Gasping you moaned, head falling back as his mouth moved lower over your throat, biting as he went, seizing your nipple through the silk. One arm wrapped around the small of your back like steel, the other hand working between your legs till yoi felt him shudder and moan unable to wait any longer. You reached down between you both, loosening his pants, drawing him free of them, your fingers encircling his thick shaft as you brought his other hand up to your mouth, sucking your taste from his fingers.

His eyes met yours and for a moment you heard his breath catch in his throat. Then he was inside you, no teasing no coaxing, one thrust buried to the hilt. You cried out in pleasure and wrapped your legs around his hips, arching your back to force him deeper. He laid his head in the crook of your neck and drove into you relentlessly, groaning as you tightened around him in response.

Your hips bucked wildly to meet his thrusts, hands moving down to his neck, aching to touch his skin but you were both too far gone. Lost in the sea of euphoric pleasure. Like a raging fire it consumed you both and you felt him surge inside you. He cupped your face bringing your eyes level with his and whispered gruffly, "Regarde moi".

Doing as Vincent commanded, you opened your eyes, trying to focus, your whole being alight and ready to flame. He met your eyes, holding your gaze and you saw his smile broaden as he watched you orgasm. You shuddered, tensing with a soft cry and felt him flood into you with a force that took your breath. Clinging and shuddering he held you so tightly you couldn't breathe properly. The room spiralled as you gave him your weight, still spasming around his cock tightly.

He set you on the floor supporting you with his body till your legs would hold you upright again. Leaning down he kissed you slowly, lingering as his hands smoothed your skirt back into place. Whispering against your temple his words brought you back from the warm tingly place you were dwelling.

“Don’t think that’s the end of it chéri”.

————

#vincent de gramont x you #Vincent de gramont x reader #Vincent de gramont smut #vincent de gramont x reader insert #vincent de gramont x fem!reader #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont x you #marquis de gramont smut #vincent de gramont drabble #Marquis de gramont x reader insert #John wick 4 fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard x you

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ficsbb · 1 year ago

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Hello lovely!! Could you write something about John Wick with a really girly/hyperfeminine reader? I think he would love someone who’s just a total softy and a ray of sunshine. The type to always have flowers around, read fluffy romance books, and has a 10 step skincare routine. I think john would totally spoil her too 🤭🤭 maybe there’s a little bit of an age gap and she loves to tease him about being an old man 😅 idk I just want this man to have a sweet little starburst of a person to treat him right ❤️❤️ illysm 🥰😘

Thank you for the prompt!!! I hope it's to your liking, and I'm sorry it took so long 🫣🌺

》 Pairing: John Wick x Fem!Reader

John is skilled in many things, most being steering clear of big crowds and handling insanely dangerous weapons, but trying to handle two mugs of hot coffee while shooing the pup away is becoming... a task. He climbs the stairs and makes it to your shared room. The door is open slightly, and he catches you sitting in front of your vanity. Small vials, dried florals, makeup palettes littered all over. He doesn't know what half of it is, but he knows it smells like vanilla and lavender. It smells like you. Your eyes catch his, and he smiles as you bubble over with giggles, "Hey, you. Let me help." John nods and leans down to kiss the tip of your nose. "Watch me put on my makeup?" He smiles and says, "Of course."

He watches as you mingle with his acquaintances, your laugh infectious and distinctive. He notices how the younger men look you over and a small spark of jealousy gnaws at him, but he knows it's ridiculous. "Are you alright?" John is startled by your voice and nods quickly, "I'm alright, yeah." You know he isn't, so you grab his hand and lead him outside for some fresh air. "What's wrong?" You ask and watch him look at his hands, avoiding your eyes. You don't push. Rather, let the sound of the wind and low voices of people passing by fill the air until he speaks up. "Are you sure you're okay with me?" He asks, and the question confuses you, "I'm- I- look at these grays." John is taken back when you laugh out loud, uncontrollably. "John," you start, bringing your hands to his face, "your grays don't bother me one bit. I love you, silly." You reach up to peck his nose. He shakes his head and pulls you in for a languid kiss. "Now let's get back so I can show you off." You watch his back straighten, and he follows you inside.

You wake up the next morning to the smell of breakfast. It makes your stomach grumble embarrassingly loud. You find yourself out of bed, rinsed, and ready to head downstairs. "Good morning, pretty girl." John's voice is raspy and still full of sleep. He sets your food in front of you and watches as you take the first bite. "I have something for you." He reaches into his jacket pocket, draped over a kitchen chair, and places a small rectangular box on the counter. Your eyes light up, excited. "What's the special occasion?" He cocks his head to the side, "Since when do I need an occasion to spoil you with gifts?" You don't argue with that and open the box. A beautiful gold anklet with charms is settled into the velvet interior. "John, oh my goodness.." He smiles wide, delighted to see that you like it so much. "Let me." He takes it and kneels down in front of you, propping your foot on his knee to clasp the anklet on. "It fits perfectly, thank you!" You feel flushed when he kisses your foot. "So beautiful." He rises and kisses your lips, leaving you in a daze. "John, you really spoil me." "Not enough." He says and kisses you again.

A full day of shopping usually consists of John watching you pick out pretty things and ask him if he likes it for the bathroom, bedroom, on your body etc. It makes his heart swell. Bags full of fresh new linen and candles, both of your favorite snacks and foods are littered in the trunk of the car by early evening. After settling down, John coming down to the living room, he sees you sitting on the couch. Your legs are tucked up under you with a blanket draped over your shoulders and a mug of something warm in your hands; the steam obviously tickling your nose as you bring it up to your face to take a sip. "May I join you?" You nod and make room. The volume of the television is set low and it starts to lull John to sleep, but before his eyes completely close, he looks over at you. Your eyes set on the rom-com and your hand intertwined with his. "You okay?" You ask him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. John sighs and closes his eyes, "Yes. Perfectly okay here with you."

#reader insert #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu reeves #reader x character #fem!reader #answered 💌

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arece · 2 years ago

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Reader dies instead of John fucking load on the angst

Remember Me

♤ Summary: What if you died instead?

♤ a/n: THIS ISN'T CANNON!!! A what if that I personally think is even more painful than the original. I find it concerning how I find angst so much easier to write. This is a long one (2.2k) The masterlist

♤ Warnings: ANGST! John Wick violence, death.

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“Please, stop this.”

“I can’t.”

***

You begged him, followed him, did everything you could to try and stop him from doing this but it didn’t matter. Forever stubborn, a trait you no doubt got from him. Many mannerisms you had came from John. From the glower you do unconsciously to your dry humor.

But that all didn’t matter, not anymore. John had a plan, one where he might not make it out alive but the Marquis would go down with him, one where you’d be free in a way he was never able to attain. This was for you, he’d do anything for you.

“Fire!” He shoots just as Caine does. They both miss. He hears your whimper from beside Winston and it takes everything in him not to flinch back from the sound. He can feel the blood dripping down from the graze on his arm, a patch of red blooming from his white shirt.

The Harbinger calls them back twenty paces. He takes a breath, a quick glance to see the almost agonizing worry painted on your face. For you. “Fire!” It felt much faster this time, it was. It had to be realistic, like they were planning to kill each other.

The growing pain in his left shoulder knocks him back a step but otherwise he doesn’t react. Caine grunts, slightly hunched over and holding at his side. Painful yet not fatal, they took another ten paces and it was time.

“Those who cling to death, live.” A bittersweet truth he clung to until there was you. Caine gives a barely visible nod, “Those who cling to life, die.”

“Fire!”

The shot to his stomach winds him to the point he falls to his knees. It won’t kill him, a few inches upwards and would have, he wouldn’t reveal that just yet. You cry out and Winston nearly has to hold you back. He has to close his eyes, tempted to tell you he was fine but he can’t show his hand. He wasn’t done yet, he had to win.

“¡Alto!” Vincent eagerly calls out. I claim the last shot.” He grabs a bullet before storming up to Caine with a sick sort of glee. “Your weapon, give it to me,” he demands, holding his hand out. “Is my daughter free now?” He carefully asks.

Caine’s part of the deal is fulfilled, he and his daughter were now free like you’d both soon be. “Oui. You and your daughter, enjoy.” He rips the gun from Caine and quickly reloads it. “You lose,” he confidently calls out before being cut off by Winston’s mocking laugh.

“You arrogant asshole. He didn’t shoot.” Vincent snaps over to John but it’s already too late. “Consequences,” he spitefully said before shooting him straight in the head. It was all over, he finally ended it all.

You’d be safe, he could be with you, that is if you forgave him for leaving you behind. He was aware it was his fault, that it was something he should’ve never done, but at the time he felt it was the only thing he could do to keep you safe. After two years, he finally got you back.

“John,” a soft whimper behind him. He looks up to see you holding your stomach, a few inches upwards. The Marquis’ gun went off, hitting you as collateral. You nearly fell back until Winston grabbed ahold of you.

Caine stepped back, The Harbinger leaving, it was not the time to finalize the terms. “No.” John feels nearly hysterical as he clumsily makes his way to you, dragging you from Winston into his arms. It felt like he wasn’t even there, this wasn’t real.

He pushes down on your wound, desperate for it to go away. You cry out from the pain, “I know, I know. I got you, kid.” Winston has to turn away, tearing up at the sight of just how fragile you looked.

John felt himself growing frantic, nearly losing himself already at the idea of losing you. He tries to gather you into his arms, just like that time you were sick. Just like that time, you’d be fine. He was overreacting, the Doctor would tell him it’s something minor. It won’t be like his Helen.

But you stop him, crying quietly now as you hold tightly to his hand on your stomach, “you’re free now?” You ask in an uncharacteristically small voice that has him nearly sobbing. “Yeah,” he brushes your hair back just like every time he’s done before.

It was foolish, you know, but you just wanted him to comfort you one last time, “you’re not going anywhere?” John slightly chokes, pulling you closer, as if holding you to him and refusing to let you go would keep you here. “You and me, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I missed you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you cuddled into him like you did whenever you had a nightmare. It was almost enough to convince John that’s what this was, you were just sleeping. But the lack of your chest rising and the soothing sound of your breaths had him finally breaking down.

No matter how hard he tried to do right by you he failed, every time. He did all of this to save you, left you for two years to protect you, reunited with you, only for you to die. You had begged him to stop, gave him so many opportunities to put down his gun and just live for you and he refused. His never ending need for revenge killed you, he killed you.

The background was a blur, he couldn’t hear anything, focused on solely rocking you back and forth, pushing your hair back every time it fell into your face. He ignored the blood he smeared on your face as he brought your head closer - your blood - and kissed your head softly.

You. His daughter, his kid, his baby. He missed you too, there was never a moment he didn’t, even now he missed you more than anything. Winston tried to step closed and he held out your knife threateningly. He didn't care, no one got near you right now except for him.

“Johnathan,” He calls out softly, red rimmed eyes of his own. “The first time I saw her in two years and she’s already gone.” He didn’t bother looking up, trailing a finger over your cheek that was already growing cold.

“I missed so much and it’s my own fault,” he glances up at Winston, “I’ll never get that time back.” He gathered you close and stood, he was going to bring you home and you were never going to leave again.

He nods for his jacket and Winston drapes it over you, covering your fatal wound just like he wanted. You were sleeping. It hit him suddenly that he never told you he loved you and it was almost enough to send him back to the ground.

He should’ve just done what you had asked, whatever you wanted. He held you securely with Winston by his side, both ready to bring you back.

***

(y/n) Wick

Loving daughter

“You and me, kid.”

Something you’d probably scoff at but it felt right. Dog refused to move from your grave and John had half the mind to stay with her. Even the Bowery King had shed a few tears, having to leave soon after due to not being able to handle the emotions.

“Always said he was dramatic,” he could almost swear he heard you say. You were next to Helen, a little family he wanted to join. He didn’t know what to do without you, lost in a way he’s never been before.

Losing a child is a pain you never get over, a gaping hole that never fills. He was angry but had no one left to blame, no enemies to kill. For once, John was forced to sit and deal with his grief and god if it wasn’t the most painful thing he’s ever felt.

He carried so much guilt and regret for what happened between you, so many mistakes he’d never be able to go back and fix. Winston’s reassurance of how much you had loved him didn’t help.

You admired and loved a monster, both John Wick and the Baba Yaga. It had gotten you killed. Everything John Wick loves dies. You were doomed from the moment he accepted that coin, the moment he placed his jacket over you in that car and decided he would do anything for you.

He felt that he cried out everything he had left, numb besides the anger he held towards himself. This was his own doing. Eventually he forced himself and Dog to go to your apartment, the place you lived when John forced you out of your home.

It felt empty - lonely. It was enough to break his heart all over again, he drove you to this. He collected the few photos of yourself in the apartment, his own only of your younger years. He couldn’t stand the thought of the last image he had of you being older was dying in his arms.

As he brushed over your belongings he came across a small box. He opened it to see a bunch of folded up papers held down by a gold coin. A gold coin he recognized, the coin that led him to you, to your death. He picked it up and was tempted to throw it away before pocketing it. He’d keep any part of you he could get, even if it reminded him of his mistakes.

He picked up one of the folded papers; a letter dated back to a few days after he left you.

John,

I don’t think I could ever forgive you. I trusted you.

I never believed that I could belong anywhere, everyone seemed to leave eventually.

I knew that day would come with you, I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

He swallowed, skimming through the letters, varying emotions of resentment, hurt, and confusion in each. It was painful, but one John wholeheartedly deserved. He may have been what you wanted but he wasn’t what you deserved, you deserved more.

He reached the last letter in the pile, it was written just a week before you hunted him down, a week and a few days before you died.

John,

I think I get it now. Though it doesn’t make it hurt less, I at least know now that you did care. You wanted me to be safe but what you seemed to never understand is that I felt safest with you.

All I wanted was you. I’ll always carry that hurt for the potential what could’ve been but I can cherish the time we did have together, when I had someone who cared for me so deeply.

I hunted down the Continental Doctor to trade for that coin you gave him - something to remember you by - and he gave it to me for free. I think he understood.

Everyone seemed to do that better than us. We always struggled to actually talk to each other, resorting to desperate actions. Maybe that’s what led us here today.

I hope you find that peace and freedom you always longed for, the kind you couldn’t get with me. That’s part of the reason I think we would’ve never worked, all I brought was chaos and pain, something you never needed more of, what you were trying to escape. For that I’m sorry.

Now, I’ll try to fix our mistakes, learn from them and speak openly. I don’t know if I’ll ever be brave enough to send these to you but if you do find them I hope you know that I love you.

I love you and thank you for being the dad I never got. Even if it was for a short time.

Love,

Your daughter.

John fell down onto your chair, crying so hard he couldn’t make out the words on the letter. He held it away from him, scared he’d stain it with his tears.

You got to heal but for the wrong reasons, without his apology and the full knowledge of his love for you. You were right, you both struggled with words and he should’ve tried harder. You always struggled feeling like you belonged and he didn’t do enough to reassure you.

He wished he could’ve told you just how much he cared for you, how much he loves you. How he’s sorry.

***

Although no matter what happened next it would never be fully happy; but if John were able to heal the slightest bit, accept, and move on, it would’ve been better. Though that’s never how John worked. He solely relied on his anger, looking for someone to blame, looking for a fight. Something he knew how to do.

He chose to direct his anger towards the entire High Table, to wipe them all out. Winston tried to fight him on this, convince him that it wouldn’t be what you wanted. But you weren’t here and you were gone because of the High Table and him. Either way they’d both go down for taking you away.

A suicide mission. But what else was there left to live for? He lost all that brought meaning to his life, he killed it, watched as it slipped through his fingers, helpless to stop it all. Helen, and now you.

He didn’t believe in much anymore but he hoped, hoped that when he did finally get to rest, it’d be with you.

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