hey! you could write with john wick coming home to find his wife in the garden with the "garden boy" who clearly likes her but she doesn't realize it. i imagine john being subtle and quiet with his jealousies, nothing too scandalous but serious and direct. fluffly, please and thank you so much 🩷
*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I loved this idea so much! I hope you like it, feel free to ask for any expanding drabbles of these two <3
Jealous!John Wick x Naive!Reader
Tags: john is jealous, reader is naive about his jealousies, gardener def has a crush but would rather quit than act on it with john always around, age gap mention, lower class reader in a rich world, possessive john, protective john, primal john
Summer was dying, August dragging out the heat of July, telling the world it was unready to leave just yet. And you, well, you were enjoying the last of the long days, the time when sunset went on for ages, and burned in the sky a blazing orange over your backyard. You always loved the sun, how it turned everything golden each evening, and how it kissed your skin with its heat.
You were barely breaking a sweat, laying out by the pool while the gardener worked on the bushes. He was young. More around your age than your husband John. Which was nice sometimes, when you got to converse with him, both because of his age, and like you he wasn't from a wealthy background. It kept you a bit more grounded while the life of luxury continued on around you, it was nice to confide in him.
Unfortunately, what you never noticed was the gardeners wandering eyes. Even now, as you lay out in your bikini, eyes closed and skin happy to drink up the suns rays, he can't help but to watch you. If you asked the gardener about it, he would never admit to his little crush on you. As much as that would be unprofessional of him, he also has no interest in messing with his employer, John Wick. There were rumors, you know, about John coming home, bruised and bloody, a painting of struggle on his skin, the smell of gunpowder on his suit. The gardner has even caught a glimpse before, and watched as you greet your husband as a source of safety and comfort. No one asked why it was that John came home in such a state, but everyone knew, and because of that, the gardener would never pursue you. He would remain a healthy confidant, easing your worries in the world of the rich, and letting you keep in touch with the world outside the private neighborhood.
The gardener still steals a look or two while he thinks he can get away with it. His headphones buzz with music, drowning out the weed whacker as well as much of his own thoughts. He idly appreciated your body and your beauty from afar, before his stomach drops. He felt for only a moment that he was the one being watched now, and when his eyes flicker up, he meets a set of dark, dangerous eyes. John has entered the backyard, likely in search of his wife, who is currently enjoying the last days of summer. The most frightening part is how close he is, the gardner had no idea that John had snuck up behind him, and now he feels the trail of sweat down his back running cold.
Instead of finding his wife, John sees this man, who he pays handsomely to do work John has no time for, drooling over his wife. The gardener quickly looks away, trying to be busy with work, but the feeling of John's gaze never leaves his back. He starts to feel sweaty for reasons besides the burning August heat, and does everything he can to stop from looking over his back once more. There was just something about John that scared him to his core, and he felt he should trust that feeling if he were to survive.
Unfortunately for the gardener, John isn't finished. He feels John remove one of his ear buds, the man now so close he can smell John's expensive taste in cologne.
"I don't pay you to eye fuck my wife." John growls out, assertive and serious.
"N-no, of course not, Mr. Wick…" The gardener quickly tries to find his way out of this mess, John's cold eyes are enough to scare him away from looking at you for a good long while.
"Good. I suggest you go home for the night." John maintains professionalism always, but the thoughts running through his head tell a different story. The gardener can practically see these thoughts and takes John's suggestion, quickly moving away to pack up.
Meanwhile, you don't even know this interaction has happened, eyes closed lightly, sunglasses blocking out the sun. It isn't until John's lips kiss and whisper against your cheek, that you realize your husband is home for the day. Your eyelids flutter open, happy to see his dark form against the dulling blue sky. He looks at you with a small fire in his eyes, and you have no idea he is trying to show off while he continues to kiss down your neck.
He's halfway to your breast, maybe more, when you glimpse the gardener beginning to pack up in a haste, and gently pull John away, for modesty if anything. You notice the gardener refuses to look in your direction and wonder why.
"John, wait…" You say softly, and John let's out a small noise of annoyance that his lips must be pulled from your soft skin.
"What's wrong?" His voice is low, gruff.
"Let's wait until…" Your eyes finish your sentence, looking towards the gardener once more. John scoffs when he sees where your gaze is going.
"What? I'm not allowed to lay claim to you in front of the staff?" He says, almost arrogantly. You aren't exactly surprised, John has always been protective, if not possessive. You don't mind it much, in fact sometimes it even turned you on how primal he could be about it. But you also thought you had tamed his jealousy regarding the gardener months ago.
"You don't have to claim me, John, I'm already yours…" You say with a smirk, kissing right under his well kept beard. John seems to be calmed for the moment by your words, and while he enjoys your kiss, the gardner slips away for the night, safe once again for now.
John's eyes open when your lips leave his neck, and he looks down at you, perplexed.
"Why'd you stop…?" He breathes out, voice already dripping, husky with want. You smirk, and stand from where you were sun tanning, taking his hand and pulling him to the house.
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