#y'all not ready for this. i'm not ready for this. my husband however is bugging me daily for new pages lol.

[bakedbakermom]

head in my hands as i realize i need to split this bit up into 2 chapters, one of which will be like 80% new... but like honestly how do you NOT devote an entire chapter to scully's first DP ??? i'd feel like a monster...

[keanuvibe]

Noses In Roses (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 4.5

A/N: well hi! I was sad so I did some writing y'all!!!! wowwww abby actually wrote something!!!! it's a miracle!!!!

Words: 2.8k (this is longer than I meant for it to be)

Warnings: none, good ole family fluff!

June 27th, 4:03PM

The afternoon summer sun poured into the kitchen, illuminating the space in a golden haze. Classic rock played over the small portable speaker John had gotten you last Christmas as your hands dug into some fresh bread dough; kneading it gently. Patterned footsteps and cheerful giggles of two little bodies could be heard from the backyard, signalling that your kids were having fun.

It’s been three and a half years since Heather was born. Since then, a few things have changed. First, you and John are married now. He proposed shortly after Heather turned seven months old, and you were joined in holy matrimony at the courthouse the following Monday. Of course, you couldn’t find a sitter for the occasion so James sat quietly playing his Gameboy while Heather slept in her car seat. Although once the kids were put to bed, you and John did celebrate that night.

Second, you adopted James. Over the course of your relationship, John had always made little comments about how much James loves you and sees you as a mother. And after Heather was born, the boy actually started to call you ‘mom’. It took a few years for everything to fall in place, but, on your birthday last year, John and James surprised you with the adoption certificate, proving that you are now the legal parent to your eldest. You were a blubbery, lovey, emotional mess for a couple days afterwards.

And the third thing to mention, you’re pregnant again; a couple days away from seven months. After careful consideration regarding both yours and John’s ages, the two of you decided to have one more baby. You wanted a sibling closer in age to Heather, that way she’d have someone to grow up with. Yes, James will always be there, but he’s six years older than her. What nine-year-old wants their three-year-old baby sister hanging around?

“Mommy!” Heather’s small voice hollered from the backyard; breaking your thought train. Hurriedly wiping the dough from your hands, you made your way to the sliding door.

“Yes?” You answered, stepping outside. The afternoon heat hit you immediately, but you pushed it aside. Resting a hand on your belly and furrowing your brows, you scanned the yard not immediately seeing your children.

“Where are you two?” You then yelled.

“Mom, you’ll never believe what we found!” James spoke, rounding the corner from the side of the house. He held a mischievous grin; a grin you’ve seen plenty of times. Whatever he’s about to show you probably isn’t going to end well.

“If it’s another gross bug, James, I swear-” You started, but the boy cut you off.

“It’s not! I promise! You’ll like this surprise, mom.” James grabbed your hand as he spoke, pulling you towards the side of the house he’d appeared from.

“Mhm, just like how Dad and I liked our ‘pond’?” You spoke sarcastically. When Heather was in her ‘terrible twos’ phase, the two of them got into the most trouble; Heather being the instigator, and James gas lighting her. One afternoon, they had filled the tub in yours and John’s bathroom with dirt, twigs, rocks, and even a handful of worms, before proceeding to fill the tub until it overflowed and ruined the tile and rugs. Of course, you had fallen asleep on the couch from pure parental exhaustion and didn't discover the scene until John came home an hour later.

“That was almost two years ago mom, you’re going to have to let it go.” James spoke with faux sincerity, finally rounding the corner. You narrowed your eyes at him, ready to retaliate, however a very obvious bark caught your attention.

“Ta-Da!” Heather cheesed, grinning from ear to ear. Laying next to your daughter in the grass was a dog; A chocolate labradoodle to be exact.

“Oh my god- How- Whose- What?” You were stuttering over your words, too shocked to form a complete sentence. The dog perked it’s head up at your voice, tail wagging as the tongue hung out from its mouth.

“We found it!” James reassured, letting go of your hand and walking over to where they sat. Kneeling in the grass, your son began to pet the dog. It seemed to like the kids, not putting up a fuss wherever they touched it.

“Is this why you’ve been so quiet?” You pursed your lips, placing a hand over your temple and rubbing to ease the oncoming headache. The two of them chorused cheerful answers, even prompting the dog to let out a soft bark.

“Do you think dad will let us keep it?” James then asked, sadness clearly lacing his tone. You stepped closer to the dog, trying to form some sort of answer; but couldn’t think of one. The kids have been begging for a pet, ever since Heather was old enough to speak. You and John have been avoiding it, knowing you’d rather have your third baby then introduce a dog. But, I guess the universe had other plans for your little family.

“We’ll just have to see when he gets home.” You responded finally, kneeling next to the pet with a huff. You quickly looked over the animal, checking for a collar or any type of tags. It looked skinny as well, like it is malnourished and has been wandering for a bit; picking up a spare meal here and there.

“We found it in the field!” Heather cheerfully explained, pointing towards the open field behind your fenced yard. When John purchased this home, he also purchased the land behind him so no further development could be made. Living in New Jersey, it always baffled you how he’d managed to pull that off.

“Poor thing.” You spoke, a frown growing across your face. The animal gently lift its head from laying to look up at you. His tongue drooped from its mouth as it panted, the heat and fluffy hair not helping the fact.

“Is it a boy or a girl, mommy?” Heather then asked, lovingly grabbing its face and petting. You gently lifted the dog's leg to check before answering your daughter.

“It’s a… Boy.”

“Can we name him Rex? Like a T-Rex?” James mused, eagerly bouncing where he sat. You chuckled at his enthusiasm, however Heather was quick to join the decision making.

“No! I want Mr. Fluffy!”

“How about we choose names later, once Dad gets home.” You interjected yourself before a full fight was to break out. The two kids seemed in agreement, nodding quietly, letting the scuffle fade away.

“Let’s make sure he gets some food and water in his tummy.” You smiled towards your kids and the dog. The two of them nodded eagerly, probably also wanting a snack themselves. Using the side of the house for balance, you stood back up, resting a hand on your bump once again. James and Heather also stood, prompting the dog to jump up as well.

“Mommy, will the dog meet our new baby?” Heather's soft voice spoke. Her small fingers wrapped themselves around your own as the four of you made your way back into the house. Ever since you got pregnant, Heather has been fascinated. Her favorite thing is to feel the baby move and kick, and some days, she's even fallen asleep cuddling up to your belly.

“I'm sure he will, baby.” You smiled down at your daughter, ruffling her messy hair. She gave you a cheesy smile in return, showing her crooked baby-teeth.

Once inside, the dog seemed slightly intimidated by the new environment, however the comforting presence of the kids seemed to be helping. Firstly, you put your unfinished bread dough back into the fridge and turned off the radio before grabbing a spare bowl and filling it with water. James was quick to help, searching the pantry and fridge before pulling out the sandwich meat.

Setting down the bowl, you gently coaxed the dog over. He sniffed around the bowl before eagerly lapping up the water; spilling it all over onto the floor. Heather's giggle-fueled reaction only added to the silly situation. James gently set down a plate containing a few slices of the sandwich meat next to the water bowl. The dog sniffed the plate as well before realizing it was food and swiftly munched down the meat in a few bites.

The three of you hung around by the dog for a few moments before the sound of the garage door opening signaled that John is home. The familiar engine hum of his vintage vehicle echoed loudly before it was promptly cut off, and a few moments later the door to the garage swung open.

“I’m home!” The man called out, hanging his keys.

“Daddy!” Heather yelped, jumping off of a seat at the table and rushing over to her father. John bent down onto one knee, eagerly catching the little girl into his arms.

John, despite your wishes, still works as an assassin. When Heather turned one and things became more manageable, he insisted on going back. Money was the main reasoning, claiming the family will need more income with a new baby. You didn't agree, but went along with it anyways. John is going to do as he pleases anyways; you learned that early on.

“We found a dog!” James gushed, petting the animals head softly. Setting Heather back down, John's dark eyes met those of the dog, laying on the floor next to the food and water. The dog's tail began wagging at the interaction, and he popped his head up.

“How?” John asked, dropping the overnight bag on his shoulder and stepping over to the pet. You, James and Heather all looked at each other, hopeful for a positive reaction. Your husband gently knelt down, admiring the dog; his large hands then gently began to pet the animal.

“Behind the fence in the field, he was stuck.” James answered, “I had to jump it. I got a hole in my shorts because of it.” He added, standing up and showing off the small hole. Both you and John made eye contact at his statement, parental alarms blaring over the fact your son could jump the fence; nevermind the hole in his clothes. James is growing like a weed anyways, you buy him new jeans at least twice a month.

“Does he have a name?” John then asked, giving the dog a few more pets before standing back up.

“No, we were waiting for your input.” You smiled while answering your husband, waddling over to the table and taking a seat. Heather and James still sat around the dog, showering it with affection. John nodded, grabbing the bag he dropped and moving it out of the doorway.

“I want to name him Rex, and Heather wants to name him Mr. Fluffy. Mom didn't give an option, so, it's up to you, dad.” James explained, looking up towards his father. John nodded silently, joining you over by the kitchen table.

“Dog.” The man answered, looking towards his children. They sat quietly before looking between each other, almost having a silent conversation. The dog even let out a sigh, as though he too hated the name.

“That’s stupid.” James finally deadpanned, looking back towards John. You had to stifle a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. James, as you've come to learn, is basically a copy and paste of his father. He's strong-willed, confident and extremely dry-humored. Sometimes it's humorous, and other times it can be very frustrating.

“Well, maybe Mom should take part in the decision.” John then spoke, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. You scoffed and leaned away from his touch, annoyed that your neutral ground has been destroyed. The mischievous smile that crossed your husband's face said all that it needed.

“Well, if you must have my input, I've always liked the name Winston.” You then spoke, looking between your family. James and Heather looked at each other again, having another silent conversation. The dog’s head shot up at the mention, eagerly panting.

“We like it.” Heather finally chimed in, a wide smile covering her cheeks. “Mr. Winston Wick.”

“Can we get toys for him?” James added, enthusiastically standing up, which also promoted Heather and Winston to get up as well. The pair jumped into an excited babble, Winston panting cheerfully below them.

“I think there's an old tennis ball in the backyard, if you want to go play right now?” You cut the two of them off, gesturing to the sliding glass door. Nodding, they quickly took off with the dog close behind. With a sigh, you looked up to your husband who was still hovering over your shoulder.

“I can't believe you let them keep the dog.” The humor that laced your tone caused your husband to let out a soft chuckle.

“I know we wanted to wait,” John began, pulling out the chair next to yours and sitting, “But the look on their hopeful faces? How could I say no?”

“A dog will be nice, though. Sometimes I get lonely when you leave.” You spoke, adjusting so you were comfortable and could face him better. Resting a hand on your bump, you let out a soft sigh.

“I know, I’m sorry.” John's response wasn't what you really wanted to hear. You wished he’d retire and stay home to help with raising the family. And with the third baby on the way, while you are very excited, you're also scared. The same fear you held while pregnant with Heather and after discovering his line of work; what if you lose John?

“James seems to have really bonded with the dog. God knows how long they've been hiding it from us.” You changed the subject, turning to face your husband better. Scanning the side of his face, you could see a small cut donning his cheek bone. Must've gotten that from his most recent job.

“It’ll be good for him, teach him some responsibility.” John chimed. His large hand gently placed itself on your bump, thumb rubbing circles. The baby kicked at the feeling; always getting extra jumpy and excited when John touches you. This pregnancy, you wanted to keep the gender a surprise. Honestly, you weren't hoping for a girl or boy; just as long as the baby is healthy. Being an ‘older’ mom, the risk of complications are higher. So far, however, it's been easy. In fact, this pregnancy has been easier than Heather was.

“He's quite responsible already. He basically helped me raise Heather on the days you were gone.” You answered, placing your smaller hand atop John’s. “He’s such a brilliant boy. I can't believe he’s going into the fifth grade this fall.”

“If you keep reminiscing, you're going to cry Darling.” John’s voice gently spoke. You couldn't help but chuckle and sniffle down some tears that threatened to escape.

“Sorry,” You humored, standing up from the table and grabbing a tissue. “But, he’s basically become the man of the house, though. He helps with chores, and even learned how to mow the grass so I wouldn't have to.”

“We can hire a Maid and Gardener.” John deadpanned, standing up from the table and stepping over to you.

“With your career, I don't trust a lot of people. Aurelio is the only one allowed past the driveway.” You didn't mean for your words to come out harsh, but they did. John knows how you feel about his job, especially now that your kids are the perfect ‘kidnap and hold for ransom’ age. You don't even want to be reminded of when Helen kidnapped James.

The man didn't respond, instead his face told all that it needed. He was upset, understandably, but he knows and understands why you lashed out. It's not easy trying to keep your family a secret from your job and vice versa. Especially when your job is highly dangerous and deals with world class criminals.

“I’m sorry, you just got home. Let's not argue.” You sighed, stepping up to your husband. Grabbing his hand, you pulled yourselves as close as your bump would allow. John complied, placing his hands on your sides to hold you tighter.

“No, you're rightfully upset.” The man's voice was soft, almost a whisper. He gently kissed the top of your head before your lips met. Running your hands up his suited chest, a quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips as the kiss broke. The two of you rested your foreheads together, a silent gesture of romance. Your relationship is strong; the love you hold for John trumps your hate of his profession. All that matters is when he comes home and leaves the harsh reality of work behind, he’s greeted with a happy home and family.

“I love you, Mr. Wick.” You spoke gently, running your fingers through his long hair. A small smile overtook his face as he answered.

“I love you too, Mrs. Wick.”