#you know the John wick where he gets the call and just goes ‘…oh’

[frownyalfred]

I need a John Wick scenario where some goon beats the shit out of one of the batkids but doesn’t realize which hero they belong to. Cut to them getting home like “yeah I fucked up that little red bird guy!” and all the other goons look at him like “you mean…Red Robin?”

“Yeah that guy. Wait, why are you all getting up—”

Everyone knows the robins are off limits from serious beat downs. Batman will come for blood, and he’s downright superhuman when it’s about one of his kids.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Some angst to fluff of himbo kiri finding out reader is pregnant?-🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Romance, Pregnancy, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, PIV, pregnancy sex, oral, lemon, profanity

Link to My Master List

Well, shit.

You stand in your apartment bathroom nervously tapping your foot as you re-read the pregnancy test instructions. Plus sign means positive. Minus sign means negative. You grab the test with clumsy hands and it almost goes sailing into the toilet – almost. You manage to catch it before it hits the porcelain throne and you scramble to read it again. There, on the cheap drugstore pregnancy test, is the faintest of plus signs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Okay – gotta think this through. Have you always wanted a baby? Yes. But are you ready for a baby now!?

Your mind whirs through all of the details of your life – steady partner? Check. Reliable source of income? Check. Decent living space? Check.

Sure, you’re a little younger than you would have liked, but to hell with it – you have everything you need to bring a baby into this world. So why the heck not!?

A baby! You’re going to have a baby. And not just any baby – Eijiro Kirishima’s baby.

You laugh giddily and race out of the bathroom to get your phone. It’s lying on the floral Ikea bedspread where you left it.

 You click open your home and see your background is currently an image of Keanu Reeves from John Wick. Oh. That’s right – you had swapped our your usual background pic of Kirishima for this image last night. After you two had fought for an hour.

Your petty revenge on Eijiro has always been to change your phone background to a hot, skinny actor. It always drives him a little crazy – he hates to see you lust over other celebrities. Especially the slim, emo looking ones – it always makes him a little on edge that his big muscular himbo body might no longer be your taste. It’s petty of you, and maybe even a little mean playing into your boyfriend’s insecurities like this…but it’s really the only ammo you have against him when you’re annoyed or angry. Of all the things a person could do to get back at their partner for something, having Keanu as your phone background doesn’t seem so bad.

You swipe to unlock your phone and pull up your last conversation with Kiri. You know you need to tell him ASAP, but the two of you haven’t spoken since your blowout the night before. It’s not as if you’ve broken up or anything, but you both needed some space.

You think back to the argument. The two of you rarely fight, but this particular quarrel had been festering for months. Kirishima maintains in public that he’s single. He refuses to put you in the spotlight, worrying that in announcing he’s “involved” with you, he’ll be putting you in harm’s way. He’s put away so many villains over the past decade, and he fears that they would come after you as revenge on Red Riot.

For months you’ve been telling him you’re ready to take on the risk. The two of you have been a couple for 3 years now. When he refuses to acknowledge that he has a girlfriend in the press, it makes you feel insecure. Does he not take this relationship seriously? Does he not think that you two are capable of going the distance? In private, he worships the ground you walk on, but is that all just for show when you’re alone?

The night before, you had expressed these fears and doubts, practically begging Eijiro to call his publicist and break the news that Japan’s Sturdy Hero is taken and off the dating market.

Aside from your personal insecurities, you hate seeing the way that women endlessly flirt with Eijiro in public. They ask for selfies, wrapping their hands around his thick biceps and planting chaste kisses on his chiseled cheek. Eijiro, being the manly hero he is, always vehemently shuts down their advances. But you always wonder, if the right pretty woman were to come along and ask for a date – would he say yes?

Despite your anxieties, Red Riot is unwaveringly loyal, and would never entertain the thought of cheating. But that doesn’t stop the media from insinuating that he’s dating a new super model or Pro Hero every other week. You hate seeing him plastered on magazines in the grocery store, photoshopped next to a Top 20 hero with a nice rack and a thousand watt smile.

You think back to the argument last night, replaying it in your head like an old film reel.

You had stood in your tiny apartment kitchen, cleaning up after a delicious dinner the two of you had cooked together. Earlier that day, you had seen a tabloid at the mall showing off a particularly salacious photo of Red Riot after a particularly gruesome battle – half of his uniform had been torn off, revealing budging muscles and his dark happy trail that disappeared into his work pants. The image showed your boyfriend sitting on the edge of an ambulance as a pretty nurse smiled up at him and wrapped up a wound on his arm. The tabloid had a flashy title splashed across the cover “Red Riot Finds Love in the Field!?” You had begrudgingly purchased the magazine, bringing it home so you could show Kiri how ridiculous the media is getting, and how much it bothers you.

“Look at this, Eij. I have to see these all the time.” You toss the magazine in his direction and he catches it, smirking at the image on the cover.

“Wow, how did they even get that picture? I didn’t see any press at that fight.” He wonders, flipping through to the article. “’Chivalrous Hero Red Riot does it again – defeats the villain and seemingly gets the girl. Did we see sparks between the sturdy hero and the pretty EMT patching him up? Sources on the ground say he asked the emergency worker to dinner to thank her for her efforts.’ Wow, babe, you’re totally right. They’re absolutely making shit up about me. But hey – I do think I look pretty good in this pic, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow and holds the article up for you to see – you didn’t see this picture earlier. You had been too angry to look at the actual article. The image shows Eijiro standing strong in his hero gear – his arms are crossed and a confident smile sparkles across his handsome face. The picture turns you on a bit – you always love the way he has learned to own the spotlight, to look unbreakable in the face of danger. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so damn much – his confidence in tough situations. You know that it took a lot of work for him to get to this point – he used to second guess himself so much when he was younger. But Eijiro had put in the time and the work in building his self esteem and his hero career, and now he is able to save people with a grin on his face. You’re so damn proud of the strong, capable hero he’s become.

You push down your arousal and get back to the point. “Yeah, babe. You always look great. But look…the point is I don’t like the way that they are always trying to ship you with whatever woman is in your vicinity. It really hurts me.” You pause, looking away from the article and getting back to washing your dishes in the sink. You pass a wet dish to Eijiro which he dries wordlessly before placing it in your dish cabinet. “I want you to tell people about me – I want to be part of your life in every way possible. Babe…please.”

“No.” He says soundly, before rattling off all of the reasons why he doesn’t want your relationship public. The two of you continue washing and drying dishes together as you talk.

“But Katsuki and Izuku’s relationship is public! Kyoka and Denki! Shoto and YaMomo!” You say accusatorily, shutting off the faucet as you finish washing the final bowl. You shove it into his chest pointedly and stalk off to the living room. He dries the bowl and places it on the counter before following. You plop down on the couch and cross your arms. Eijiro is giving you a weird, stricken look. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Babe. I’m gonna say something that’s going to really piss you off. But I need you to understand if from my point of view. All of our couple friends…well, yeah they can be public about their relationships. Because they’re all Pro Heroes. And you’re…well, you know. You’re not. You’re a citizen who never worked to develop your quirk and you have no true combat experience. It’s different with all of them.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. “So what!?” You practically yell, hating to be reminded that you’re the only one in your boyfriend’s massive friend group who isn’t a Hero. “What does that matter? You think I can’t take care of myself!?”

“No, it’s not that. I just want you to think about the training we all have and the threats we face everyday. All of our friends can go toe to toe with the worst super villains known to society. So if some goon came after them looking for revenge…they would be able to deal with it. But babe…you’re not a Pro. I don’t want to get you involved in anything dangerous or scary. I need you to understand that and see if from my perspective.” He goes quiet, looking at you for an answer.

You’re furious. You can kind of understand where he’s coming from here, but whatever stretch of understanding you have is buried under pure undiluted rage.

“So your saying our relationship isn’t the same as all of your friend’s relationships? Ours isn’t worth celebrating and having public?”

“No, that’s not it at all! Babe. You are the most precious thing in my life and I do not want to put you in jeopardy. I need you to understand that.” He says pleadingly.

“I’m tired of seeing all those hot Pro Heros hanging on you and flirting with you on talk shows! I am sick of being quiet and watching other women fawn all over you like you’re some sort of man whore.”

“Y/N…you know that I don’t like getting that attention and that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to set boundaries with my fans and co-workers and I do feel like people are starting to get more respectful about touching me. Babe, I know you don’t like that and I’m really pushing back when women get close to me out in the field. Please believe me.”

You do. Of course you believe him. But if everyone just knew about your existence, you’re sure they would back the fuck away from your boyfriend.

“Eij. I believe you and I understand where you’re coming from. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m some kind of dirty secret. I’m just so angry right now, I don’t think I can talk about this anymore tonight. Just…leave.” You’re getting a stress headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes in an attempt to stave off the pain, but it just gets worse. You walk away, leaving him sitting on the couch and looking upset.

He calls out after you, but doesn’t follow. “Y/N! I just wish you really understood why I want to keep this private. Please.”

A few minutes later, you hear the door slam closed behind him. You don’t text or call each other for the rest of the night.

But none of that matters now. That stupid argument is nothing - not now that Eijiro’s baby is growing deep inside you. You shriek with excitement. You need to let your boyfriend know ASAP. He’s leaving on a big mission soon, and you need to make sure you catch him before he goes into his next strategy session with Katsuki, Sero and Izuku.

You scramble to swipe open your stupid screensaver and pull up your contacts. You hit Kirishima’s name and let it ring, bringing the phone to your ear with giddy excitement.

The phone rings and rings. Finally, you hear your boyfriend’s gravely voice pick up on the other end.

“…hello?” He sounds annoyed.

“Eijiro. I need you to come over to my apartment…like, ASAP.”

His voice instantly looses its cold edge. “What’s wrong? Y/N – is everything alright?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…I’m not sure! But I need you here right now. It’s urgent.”

“Is it about our fight last night? Because I’m still upset about it, but I am sorry if I minimized your feelings. I really can’t leave right now, we’re about to go and - ”

“Eij.” You cut him off midsentence. “I wouldn’t be asking you to leave work if it weren’t super important.”

He sighs, breathing out heavily into the phone receiver. “Okay. Give me 20 minutes.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up. It’s a mark of how upset he still is that he doesn’t end the call with his usual “Love you, sweetheart.” But you don’t care. You have a feeling that what you have to tell him will change everything.

The next 20 minutes are gonna feel like the longest of your life. You feel like you’re bursting at the seams with the news of your positive pregnancy test. You dance and twirl around the little apartment, using your frenetic energy to tidy. You clean the countertop and stove, flip through your junk mail and even fluff the pillows on your navy blue couch.

In a fit of inspiration, you scurry to your room and throw on your black silk dress. It’s sinfully tiny, with a slit running up the thigh. It’s by far Eijiro’s favorite outfit of yours. When he sees you in it, he can’t keep his hands off of you.

By the time that you hear his key turn in the apartment door, you’re fit to vibrate out of your skin you’re so excited. You watch him stumble in across the apartment threshold, looking world-weary and exhausted from a long day of mission strategy and patrolling.

“There’s my hero.” You say, running and throwing your arms around his thick, muscular neck. He catches you easily in his arms, his strong hands running down the smooth silk of your dress in disbelief.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” He mumbles into your shoulder. You laugh, giving him a squeeze before taking a step back from him.

“About that fight we had? It doesn’t matter right now. It’s irrelevant. I need you to forget about it.”

His eyes travel the length of your body, appreciating the way the dress hugs your curves. The slit up your thigh is of particular interest to his bright ruby eyes.

“Consider it forgotten.” He says, but he still sounds skeptical. “Now what was so urgent that you had me leave work in the middle of a strategy session? Bakugo almost ripped my head off when I told him I needed to come to your apartment.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. He’ll understand.”

“You sound awfully confident about that.” Eijiro raises an eyebrow, a frown plastered on his handsome face. “Must be something pretty important.”

“It is.” You grab his hand, dragging him across your tiny apartment and towards the bathroom. “Join me in the restroom.”

“Uh…okay.” Eijiro is flabbergasted, tossing his workbag to the ground as he follows after you. You pull him into your small blue tiled bathroom and push him down to sit on the toilet seat. Some news is best taken sitting down.

“Alright.” You reach into the medicine cabinet to grab the orange washcloth that you’ve stowed the pregnancy test in. “Close your eyes.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He sounds a mix of exhausted, tired and annoyed.

“Just go with it. I promise it’s worth the wait.” He sighs and obeys, closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the ceiling. You marvel for a moment at how – despite his manly himbo physique – he’s just so damn pretty. You hope your baby inherits the sharp curve of his chin and those glimmering ruby eyes.

You unwrap the pregnancy test from the washcloth and hold it out like an offering in front of Eijiro.

“Okay.” You take a shaky breath. “Open your eyes.”

Eijiro does as he’s told and stares blankly at you and the test for a moment.

“What’s this…?” He starts to say, and then it registers. The pregnancy test. The tiny plus sign.

 “OH MY GOD.” He leaps off of where he’s sitting on the toilet seat and scrambles to grab the plastic strip from your hands. He holds it close to his eyes and then far away again, taking in the magnitude of what it means. “Is this what I think it is!? When? How!?” He looks up at you in wonder over the test.

“Remember that camping trip with all of our friends up at the lake? We borrowed Bakugo’s car so we could go pick up some pizza from town, but we ended up pulling off the road and fucking in the back seat before we cleared the woods.” You smile, thinking back to the fated trip a few weeks ago.

Eijiro’s face is ghostly white as his eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God – we didn’t use a condom.” He sucks in a breath.

“I asked if you wanted to cum in my mouth but you were just begging me to let you cum inside. You kept calling me “sweet heart” and the “love of my life.” And it was so pathetic and sweet that I thought oh, what the hell! Maybe just this once! And now here we are.”

“Oh my God.” Eijiro takes a few steps forward and then sinks to his knees before you on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Even on kneeling, he’s just so tall. He brings his head down to rest on your belly. You tense up, unsure of what to say. Everything is still and quiet, and your nerves are on edge.

Finally, Eijiro looks up at you, his wide ruby eyes glimmering with tears. A shaky grin spreads across his face. “Babe…I’m so happy.”  He places a kiss to your stomach before disentangling himself. He gets back to his feet and pulls you back into his arms. “I’m sorry for that bullshit argument. It seems so silly now.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “I just…” You hear him choke back a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I love you so much. I can’t even tell you what this means to me…I always pictured us having kids someday, but it always seemed like such a distant future thing. And now here we are. Sure, it’s unplanned and there’s a lot we need to figure out. But God, I feel so lucky.”

This brings tears to your eyes as well. You hug him back, breathing in his scent deeply. He smells like cinnamon – you’re sure he grabbed one of his favorite cinnamon donut snacks on the walk over from his agency. You snuggle into his arms and stifle back come joyful crying.

“We’re going to have the most beautiful family, Eij.” You say into his thick chest.

“Yes, we are. I bet the baby will have your beautiful eyes, and that glowing smile.” He runs his hand over your back soothingly, reaching across you to gingerly place the pregnancy test on the sink counter.

“I hope it looks like you – shark teeth and all. Can you imagine? Red Riot, Jr.” You laugh. “You’ll have a little mini-Kiri running around.” You both grin at the image. “I should start calling you Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy.”

This makes Eijiro laugh. “Hey I like that! But wow, Y/N. Just wow.”

He sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom and into your clean living room.

“We have so much to talk though. Hell, I should call out of that mission this week. We need to figure a ton out. Whose apartment do we want to move into – or should we get a new place together? We should do some financial planning, figure out childcare. What’s your job’s maternity leave policy look like? Shit, we’ll need to find a doula. Someone at the agency recommended having a doula. And at what point do we tell our friends? Our parents? Babe, you’ll need to build us one of your signature spreadsheets or planners or whatever, I - ”

“Shhh, Kiri.” You put a finger to his lips. “Babe, there’s plenty of time for all of that. Just let it sink in for a minute.” You’re wrapped up in his arms as he caries you across the room, holding you up like it’s nothing. Your Kirishima is such a strong hero, and you feel a fierce flame of pride flare up in your chest – this man is all yours.

You’re both silent for a moment, taking it all in. A baby. The two of you made a baby. It’s an incredible, almost unfathomable thought.

After a moment or two of quiet, Eijiro looks up at you mischievously. “So yeah, we can figure out all the financial and medical stuff later…but in terms of fuckin’…does this mean 9 months of unlimited cream pies?”

You shriek in surprise.

“OH MY GOD KIRI THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW!?” You cry out, your voice echoing through the apartment as you bat at him playfully, cackling. He leans down so he can capture your lips in a searing kiss. Oh, God. Yeah – he’s being serious. He breaks the kiss and puts you down on the couch lightly so that you’re sitting up and he drops to his knees before you.

“I think we should celebrate, baby.” He slides his hands up under your tiny silk dress, causing the fabric to gather at the tops of your thighs. “Ah, fuck you’re gorgeous.” He runs his fingers across your legs, leaving goose bumps peppering your skin. He peaks beneath your dress to see cute striped panties underneath. A hunger sparks in his eyes – his shark-toothed grin is ravenous, roguish.

He spreads your legs and scoots himself in between them, leaning forward to press a kiss against your clothed pussy. He brings up his hand and runs it across your panties, lightly circling your clit before tracing down, down, down.

“You getting’ wet for me, babe?” He whispers hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of your panties.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You tease. You’re rewarded with a light pinch to your clit that causes you to yelp in surprise. “Kiri!” He chuckles, using his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room.

“So wet for me, sweet heart.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. He takes your forefinger and brings it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then moves your hand to your pussy and encourages you to pleasure yourself. “Show me how my baby likes it.”

You moan as you touch yourself, playing with your clit and dipping your fingers shallowly at the entrance of your pussy. Eijiro gets to his feet and takes off his hero costume, dropping his pants and underwear to the ground and freeing his hardening cock.

“You’re putting on quite a show, baby.” He says, leaning forward to slip the dress’s spaghetti straps off your shoulders. “Now show me those pretty tits.” He pushes the fabric of the dress down, exposing your chest. Your nipples perk up the instant the air hits them. He pinches your nipples lightly and then kneads your breasts a bit, one in each hand. The dress is now scrunched across your middle, most of you exposed to Kirishima’s greedy eyes. He takes a step back so that he can begin to stroke his cock as he watches you go to work on your pussy. You bite your lip and look away, almost embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze.

“You warmed up a little, baby?” He asks, leaning forward to plant his arms against the couch with you wedged helplessly in between. He kisses you again, roughly, before peppering kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. He stops to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you cry out from the pleasure of it.

“Eij!”

He brings his body forward, guiding his cock towards your waiting pussy. You gasp as he smooths his thick member across your delicate, dripping entrance. “You make the prettiest sounds.” He coos, continuing to flex his hips to that you feel his length move against you.

You think he’s about to push inside when he pauses, his cockhead twitching against your entrance delightfully. “Can we do it now, though? Will it hurt the baby?” He says, concern tinting his husky voice.

“I did some research – yeah, we’re fine. Keep going.” You groan out, scooting your hips forward and trying to coax him inside.

“So impatient for me to cum inside you again, ain’t ya?” Eijiro taunts, rubbing his cock back and forth against your vulva. “You sure there’s room for one more in there?”

“God yes. Just fuck me already, Kiri!” You pout, straining to get closer to him.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says before easing into you. Despite your assurance that the baby would be fine, he still takes extra care as he slides into place. He pauses to let you adjust to his size, but after a moment or two you’re off to the races.

“Jeez, babe…I forgot how damn good it feels to fuck your pussy raw. I can feel you, so tight around me. Fuckkkk.” He takes it slow, shifting his hips softly so that you can feel every inch of his hard cock as it slips and slides within you. You relax into it, your cunt stretching to slowly to accommodate his size. After all these years together, you know each other so well that fucking feels like bliss. You can just relax into it and let him take the lead.

After a few moments of gentle fucking to let you get comfortable, he makes sure you have a secure hold on him. He scoops you up and, cock still lodged deep within you, he gets to his feet. This is one of the things you love about your big, himbo boyfriend – he’s strong enough to be able to fuck you in any position and he can lift you up with absolutely zero effort. His palms flatten under your ass cheeks so he can bounce you up and down and you mewl, leaning your face into his hard chest. Your legs are wrapped around his thick body. He’s so muscular and wide that you have trouble keeping steady. It feels so incredibly good to have him intertwined with you like this, you have to remind yourself to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You like that baby?” He gasps between thrusts. “You like it when I stand and deliver?”

“Oh God yes. Keep on deliverin’.” You slur, enjoying every sensation. He chuckles and obliges, supporting all of your weight in his hands as he continues to move. After a few minutes of this, you can tell he’s getting close by the way he starts squeezing your ass and speaking nonsense.

“You’re my girl, you know that? My absolute number one perfect babe.” His breath hitches as his cock almost slides out completely but he manages to guide it back into you without incident.

“Sit down, Kiri. I wanna ride you.” You whine, kissing his sweat covered collarbone.

“Alright, babe. Whatever you want.” He turns and slowly brings you both down to the couch. You know he’s got a fuck ton of stamina from being a Pro Hero, but standing and fucking has definitely caused him to work up a sweat. You can see that he’s grateful to be back on the couch. He leans back and his back sinks into the comfy backrest of the sofa, and he brings his hands up from your ass to rest on your hips.

“Go on, baby.” He coaches. “Show me how good you are at riding this fat cock.”

You slide your legs down and settle so that you’re straddling him, and bring your hands low to rest on his strong, beefy chest. You lock eyes with him as you slowly raise your hips, bringing yourself up high enough so that his cock is barely inside of you. He watches you with eyes so full of love and attention that it almost takes your breath away. You circle your hips in the air, the head of his cock rolling around your folds before you slam back down on his member, sheathing him in one fowl swoop.

“Damn. Fuck. Y/N.” He throws his head back in ecstasy and grips your hips so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. “Christ you treat me so well.”

You continue to ride him at a near brutal pace. His breaths become shallow as he chases his high, sure to burst at any moment.

“Fuck! Wait – hold on.” He squeezes your hips and you come to a stop, puzzled. He bites his lip as he glances down between you at your stomach. “I wanna make this last. We’re celebrating, after all.”

You grin. “What do you have in mind, Eij?”

“Climb off of me and come sit on my face. Let me eat you out for a while.” He smiles at you, reaching out with his thumb to smooth a bead of sweat off your brow.

“You sure?

“The way I see it, once the baby starts growing it might get harder for you to climb on top of me. So let’s clock as much face fucking time for you as we can before that happens.” He says eagerly, taking a few moments to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Eij…you’re such a sweetie pie.” You tweak his nose as you move to get off his dick. He watches you rise up off of his cock, and he moans a little at the loss of contact as he slides out of your pussy.

“Don’t worry.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll be back in there before you know it.”

He smiles as he helps you to your feet. “I know, its just feels so damn good to be inside you without a condom, anytime I have to pull out its torture. I keep forgetting that we can do this all the time now.” He lays down across the couch and gets comfortable, placing a pillow beneath his shoulder blades. “Alright, sweetheart. Come up and take a seat.”

Your clit absolutely throbs in anticipation as you climb up on top of him, straddling his face in a position that’s become so familiar. He wraps his arms around your legs and guides you down, swiping his tongue across your pussy with practiced skill.

“Oh, God, Kiri…” You groan, relaxing into it. He drags his tongue across your clit and down to your core, gripping your legs tightly to hold you in place as he takes you apart one lick at a time. You grind your hips back and forth lightly, shimmying against him in a move that probably looks more silly than pornographic. You don’t care, though – it gets the job done. You let him bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth alone, gasping as he sucks on your sensitive clit for what feels like hours. When your legs start to shake, it’s a surefire sign that you’re about to tip over the edge.

“Babeee.” You whine as you get close. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

Eijiro stops what he’s doing and says in a muffled voice “You’re so impatient, sweetheart.” You grind against his face in reply, and he laughs. He helps you climb off of him, your legs still shaky and uncoordinated.

You let yourself rest for a moment, taking deep, steadying breaths. You look up at your hero - his gelled up hair is now disheveled and out of place. He’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling at you. “Eating you out is one of my favorite hobbies, babe.”

You giggle. “Is it nice to be having sex while everyone else is at work?” You ask, laughing as he easily flips you over onto your belly.

“It is a nice break from a stressful job, yeah.” Eijiro gets behind you, finally pulling the dress down and off your body so that it’s no longer hiked up in a heap around your middle. He lays it delicately on the back of the couch. “Can’t have anything happening to my favorite outfit.” He explains as he smooths out the fabric.

He puts a large hand on your back and slides it up towards your shoulder blades, adding some slight pressure to encourage you to get down on your elbows. He hauls your ass up towards him and settles himself behind you.

“You ready?” He asks, sliding his cock along your folds, using his split and your slick as lube.

“Y-yeah.” You breathe out, body buzzing with anticipation. “Go for it.”

He glides back into you, doggy style. This is your favorite position, as it allows his big cock to hit just the right spot deep inside you. Once again, Eijiro takes it slow. He braces one hand on your hips, the other on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide against your belly, protective. You know he’s distracted – half of his thoughts are no doubt on the baby and all that it means for the two of you.

He makes love to you like this for quite a while - enjoying the feel of your bare pussy around his cock, reveling in every sigh and moan he can goad from your pretty mouth.

“Kiriii.” You whine, fed up with this slow and easy pace. “Faster, baby.”

He smirks down at you, releasing your hip for a moment so he can deliver a light smack to your ass. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you with practiced skill. He maneuvers his hips in a way that allows him to go deep, concentrating all of his energy on one singular point. When the tip of his cock hits your cervix, you splutter out endless praise.

“Fuck, yes Eij. Fuck fuck fuck, keep going.”

And he does – he hits the same delicious spot over and over and over. You’re overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all, tears coming to your eyes as you feel heat start to pool in your belly. Your legs are shaking beneath you, and you know that the only reason you’re still able to stay in this position is because Kirishima’s strong arms are holding you in place.

“You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?” Eijiro hisses between clenched teeth, concentrating on keeping his pace consistent as he pistons his dick into you. “You look so pretty when you’re all riled up and desperate for my cock like this.”

“Ah – Eij!” You cry out as your pussy flutters around him, you cum hard and fast. Stars dance behind your eyes as your body squeezes and tries to milk Eijiro’s cock.

“Woah – fuck  babe!” He cries out in surprise, not expecting such a forceful orgasm from you. Your pussy feels like absolute heaven around him, and the way your walls squeeze and pull at him causes him to lose himself. He cries out when he cums, ropes of hot, sticky sperm shooting deep inside you. If you weren’t already pregnant, this particular fucking certainly would have given you a run for your money.

“Fuck babe. I’m gonna fuck another baby into you.”  He’s groaning nonsense as he rides out his orgasm, head thrown back and hands gripping you desperately. The overstimulation of it all has you feeling full, complete.

With a few final pumps, he’s spent. He slowly pulls out of you, marveling at the gooey creampie he’s left in his wake.

“Babe…this is insanely hot.” He says, bringing a finger up to push his seed back inside of you. You groan at the contact, overstimulated from cumming so damn hard.

“Kiri stoppp, I need a minute.” You collapse into the couch, rolling over onto your back and shuddering as you try to catch your breath. Eijiro joins you, leaning back into the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling in ecstasy.

“We should fuck like that all the time.” He says, eyes sliding closed with exhaustion. Between last night’s fight, today’s work, and this afternoon’s physical activity – he’s spent. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too, Eij.” You coo, you feel yourself slipping towards sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet.” You feel the couch cushions rise up around you as Eijiro gets up and onto his feet. “We gotta clean you up first.”

You hear the floorboards creak as he pads his way back to your tiny bathroom. Distantly, you hear him turn the faucets of your tub as he starts to draw a bath. You let yourself drift off for a few moments, content with your lot in life. You’ve got the best boyfriend in the world, and now you get to have his child. What could be better? You doze.

You startle awake when you feel Eijiro lift you off the couch and into his arms. You rest your head against his bare chest and hear his heartbeat against the shell of your ear. The steady rhythm is music to your ears, and you snuggle into him as much as you can. You hear him chuckle as he carries you off towards the bathroom.

“Babe…I think that maybe we should think about telling the press about us. What with the baby and all…I want to keep you safe, but I don’t want people to think that I just knocked you up with a secret love child or something. Not very manly.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “And as for the safety part…maybe I can train you up a bit, show you ways to use your quirk to defend yourself. I can’t always be around to protect you, but you’re strong. And I know you’re capable of protecting yourself.”

These words jolt you fully awake. “You mean that, Eijiro?” Then you add teasingly: “Being my Baby Daddy changed your mind?” Eijiro chuckles at this new title in a way that tells you he’s elated to be your “baby daddy.”

“Of course I mean it, babe. If anyone can figure all of this shit out, it’s the two of us. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” You say, your brain whirring to process all that he’s said. “But I don’t mind keeping our private life private. This baby. This family – it’s ours, and no one else’s. Fuck what the public thinks.”

“I guess we have a lot to talk about.”  He says, finally coming to a stop in the steamy bathroom. “But we don’t need to figure it all out right this moment.”

You look up at his strong, handsome face and bring a hand up to trace his jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, Eij.” He blushes at the compliment, flustered. You know he loves being called things like ���manly” and “handsome,” but he has a weak spot for softer compliments as well. Your himbo boyfriend loves to be admired softly, loves your gentle praise. “You’re so sweet and good to me.”

“Heh, does this mean that you’re gonna change your phone background back to a pic of me instead of John Wick?” Eijiro leans down to plant a kiss on your temple.

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. If it would make ya happy.”

“It would.” He kisses you again. “You ready for a bath, sweetheart? I can do most of the work if you’re too tired.” You nod at him, eyes half lidded. You’re so damn sleepy. You feel like you just had a whole body workout and then some.

Slowly, sweetly, Eijiro lowers you into the bathtub. He moves slowly, letting you get used to the water as you sink down into it. The temperature is perfect – not too cool, not too scathingly hot. Eijiro knows you so well, down to your perfect water temperature. Your bum hits the bottom of the tub and you sit up, surprised at the mountains of bubbles towering around your head.

“I got a little carried away with the bubble bath mix.” He says, cupping some of the frothy suds in his hands and blowing them across the bathroom. You look at him lovingly – he’s going to make such a good dad.

You look up at him, grinning. You blow some bubbles in his direction before gesturing for him to join you.

“Get in here, Eij. There’s plenty of room for a family of three.”

[strangersteddierthings]

Fic Masterpost

General Fic Tag Ao3 Account - All fics with [Ao3] next to them can be found here. Reference post for Steve's BMW

Bad News First, Eddie - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Shovel Talk(s) - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Porcelain Steve - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Final Part

What's Eight Plus Seven? - On Going - [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

The Interview - Completed [Ao3] The Interview (Part One) The Response (Part Two) The Conversation (Part Three) Untitled Song - A The Interview Tie-In Fic [Ao3]

No Regrets - On Going Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Good People - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

My Default’s Self-Destruct (Oh, I’m Not Used to Normal) - On Going Part One

Envy, Baby. Written for Rustypeoplekillz for the Steddie Summer Exchange 2024. Eddie makes a new friend and Steve spirals about it.

Steve and Robin talk about how Steve wants to be romanced, instead of always doing the romancing.

Eddie's over dramatic, Steve talks him down, and they're okay in the end :)

Steve reflects on how other people make the decisions in his life and decides, y'know what? No. Fuck that and fuck you.

Beg You to Love Me - Steve and Eddie talk for the first time two and a half years after they break up. [Ao3]

Steve pines for Eddie and carves a pumpkin for the first time. He is completely normal about both things. [Ao3]

Eddie left, and has to face the consequences of that

Steve has great parents and goes to therapy. Too bad he forgot to tell his friends that [Ao3]

Middle School Meet Cute? [Ao3]

One sentence and one phone call are all it takes for Steve to realize he needs to go after what he wants [Ao3]

Steve's sad, Eddie's an (accidentally on-purpose) jerk, and the miscommunication gets solved? [Ao3]

Steve gets Vecna'd and a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody saves him

Angsty Ella Enchanted AU

Steve finds it funny, the differences between him and Eddie.

#81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” [Ao3]

#23. “Just pretend to be my date.” and #60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” [Ao3]

#60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." [Ao3]

#13. "I dare you to kiss me"

Requested by Anon - Eddie catches Billy throwing Steve around in the locker room; it leads to an unintentional deescalation of the situation and a conversation Eddie's surprised to have. [Ao3]

Steddie Week 2023: Day 1: Pining [Ao3]

Anon Prompt - Robin brags about her boyfriend to Steve. He's a little jealous, because he wants to brag about his own boyfriend but doesn't know if Robin is safe to tell that too. Until, whoops, turns out Robin's BF and Steve's BF are the same boyfriend. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't want to be put on a pedestal. Eddie doesn't understand, and tries to reassure Steve. [Ao3]

Eddie's friends try to prove Steve's cheating on him. Eddie doesn't take kindly to them trying to ruin his relationship for no reason.

Plot Idea I’ll never fully flush out or write but gotta get out of my head or it’ll never let me know peace again. It’s basically Steve sent from the future going all John Wick.

Steve-focused ficlet exploring the idea of Steve becoming a Mean Girl because he learned his tactics from Carol Perkins rather than Tommy, and how he regrets the results of that.

Domestic Bliss fluff fic that ends in a loving blow job. Minors DNI. [Ao3]

Childhood Best Friends AU where Steve and Eddie agree to learn the elvish script from The Hobbit so they can pass notes and no one can read them. Things get a little messy when Eddie moves away with no notice but Steve takes it upon himself to learn Elvish anyway. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't think before he all but crawls seductively into Eddie's lap accidentally. There's also not much thinking once he realizes what he's done, or in the aftermath of it. [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy Are Cousins [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are all cousins, and Gareth doesn't want anyone to know that. For his street cred.

The Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are cousins AU gets sad (Sad AU Part 1).

Steve realizes he's the only adult left In The Know in Hawkins; Gareth wants answers, one way or another (Sad AU Part 2).

Steve doesn't attend a funeral; Gareth goes with Jason&Co to Reefer Ricks (Sad AU Part 3).

The gang arrives at Skull Rock and Steve learns Gareth's now involved. Robin learns the truth (Sad AU Part 4).

Vecna gives Steve the vision and forces him to make a choice (Sad AU Part 5).

Everyone learns they are cousins now and it goes well. Gareth makes his own plan to save the day. (Sad AU Part 6).

Wayne joins the fight and Gareth ensures that Max gets saved (Sad AU Part 7).

The cousins reconcile. Max and Steve don't (yet). It's as happy an end as a Sad AU can get (Sad AU Final Part).

Time Travel Fix It Fic

Class of '85 [Ao3]

Save Max [Ao3]

September Prompts 2023

Coffee Smell ○ Horizon ○ Foggy Mornings ○ Jukebox ○ "Kiss me or leave me" ○ "Did you lie to me?" ○ Bonfire ○ Recipe Book ○ Gas Station

[marypsue]

so, bluebeard's daughter 👀

[from this meme]

This title is a bit of a misnomer, now. I started this document when I started writing bluebeard's daughter, and then just kept adding to it when I started a sequel (scheherazade's son) and then a three-quel (tam lin's twin).

This is a Stranger Things AU combining elements of seasons 1 and 2, which started with a prompt to somehow make the crackship of Joyce Byers/Martin Brenner work, and turned into a horror story in which Brenner married Joyce to get custody of Will and Jonathan and all three of them got disappeared and experimented on. (Yes, I return to the same well with some frequency. What can I say. Agatha Christie wrote about murder, John Grisham writes about lawyers, and I write about furtive human experimentation and superpowers.)

The title of the document, bluebeard's daughter, is a reference to how Joyce is being gaslit to think she's had a psychotic break and been institutionalised, and how her uncovering the truth that's being deliberately kept from her (thereby putting herself in danger of her life at the hand of her husband) goes hand in hand with her finding El (her husband's 'daughter'). Oh, the cleverness of me.

The first part focused on Joyce, and the second on Jonathan. I'm currently working on the third and final part, which is focused on Will, Mike, and El. I've been sitting on an absolutely awful wonderful idea of what's going on with Will in re: psychic powers since I was halfway through the second part, and if it turns out that season four sniped it, don't tell me.

Because of the storytelling/fairy tale theme that's been running through the titles so far, I'm experimenting with some fairytale-style interludes throughout the third part. Have a sample, because, well, technically you did ask:

Once upon a time, a girl lived with her papa in the heart of a deep, dark wood. They were very happy, just the two of them together, for a time. But what the girl did not know was that her papa was not her papa at all. That the man she called her papa was really a wicked sorcerer, who had stolen her away from her true mother at birth to feed his own dark powers. When the girl learned that this was true, she fled the home her papa had built for her, in the heart of the deep, dark wood. But he had built it well, and strongly, and hidden it best of all, and the woods were so very deep and so very dark. Though the girl found friends along the way, she could not find her way out of the woods. And it did not take her papa’s many men very long to find her again. The girl’s papa told her he wasn’t angry with her, when those men brought her before him. That it only made him sad that she would try to leave him. That she would want to leave the deep, dark woods, which were the only home she knew. The only place where she would ever belong. The girl’s papa told her, when he locked her up inside a tower far above the ground, with no doors or windows save the one to which he held the only key, that he did it only to protect her from the wolves that called those woods their home, as well. That he did it only for her own good.

[sweetsugaryimagines]

Hi there i seen you do Bayonetta i was wondering if you could do Bayonetta and Rodin reaction to finding out Reader is Sage/Witch that is the ruler of a world called the World of the Forgotten a land that has Fallen angels and Banished Demons and the Angel/Demons had to forge a contracts with Reader for them to live in Readers world thy have to give them some of there powers and come when called.

World of the Forgotten: Bayonetta and Rodin.

Rodin

Soooo.... whatcha buyin'?

He is not phased. This man has been literally through Inferno and back and this. Does Not Bother Him.

Okay it slightly does.

Dammit, where were you when he first started his business? It would have helped. Or maybe he would have gotten kicked from it too since his weapons are made from demons.

Fallen Angels annoy him since it reminds him of his old days, but he won't talk about it or bring it up.

Banished demons are slightly more respected but they also remind him of his old days, so it's more like pity. Still won't talk about it. He is impressed with the contracts though, but wonders if you're okay since that's a LOT of paperwork and red tape. Though with the Witches and Lumen Sages not really being around nowadays, it helps.

Just... be careful. And make sure your folks don't piss him off too much that they get an LP of them made. It'll be Bad News Bears.

Bayonetta

FINALLY. Somewhere she can relax without fighting, since it's like the Continental Hotel in John Wick. A neutral zone, and if anyone fights, they get kicked out FASTER than they can say a summoning spell.

It's chaotic in a special way she enjoys.

WILL spar with you to make sure you know what you're doing.

She won't make deals herself, but she will (try) get along with both Fallen Angels and Banished Demons.

Can and will fight them if they start getting... antsy to put it lightly. But that doesn't happen often. Not after all she's done for her world.

Sees the amount of contracts and goes "Hahaha I do that"/reference

Her demons find they can chill there too and oh lordy, you'll find a lot of her folks there. Madama Butterfly in a warm bath, Gomorrah dog-sized and eating divine food, the WORKS babeyyyy-

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 

He glares. 

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-” 

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

[dreamifics]

John Wick x Assassin!Reader!

Two Broken Souls

Chapter 1:

A woman push pass people in the busy and rainy street of New York, she was making her way to The Continental. She was covering her face with the dark hoodie that envelops her whole body..

Entering the hotel, the woman caught everyone's attention, but it didn't faze her. She sashay her way to the counter, taking off her hood in the process.. Small gasps and hush whispers filled the hotel lobby.

The woman was all covered in blood, her eyes were blank and cold but she was carrying a black duffel bag.. This was Y/N L/N or as the underworld calls her 'The Reaper', she's a highly paid assassin and anywhere she goes Death always follow..

They all know that she is the perfect epitome of Death.

Rumors has it that she even surpasses the infamous 'Baba Yaga'..

But the truth is Y/N was hopelessly and completely in love with John Wick, they used to be partners but he left her for Helen, given they were just friends but he left her high and dry.. Y/N had no hard feelings, she just wanted John to be happy and it was nice to see that Helen unconditionally loves the man she also love.. Helen was a sweet and nice person while she is far from that.. She's just a quick-witted, sarcastic evil killer and deep inside her she knew that she didn't deserve John..

Everyone she loves will only die..

Reaching the concierge, she drops her hand to the desk and drop some gold coins.. Charon gave Y/N a small smile, and accepted the coins.

"Charon, give me a room and some medical supply.." Her voice was cold and blank, Y/N is not usually like this to peoole she's acquainted with.. Y/N is just having a rough day, for god's sake she was covered with blood that doesn't even belong to her and to top that up she have a gunshot wound in her abdomen.

"Rough day, Miss L/N?"

"You could say.." She answered while her fingers tapped the concierge desk, Y/N was slowly getting impatient.

"Here you go..Room 12--" He was cut off by the desk phone ringing.

"Please wait a moment, Miss L/N.." Charon answered the phone but he still hasn't given Y/N her keys..

Growing more and more impatient Y/N wanted to grab the keys from his hand and punched him but Charon is her frien--more like acquaintance..

"Okay, i'll move her.." Charon said aa he ended the call..

"Miss L/N, you have been moved to Room 134..Please enjoy your stay.."

He gives Y/N the new key and she grabs it and made her way to the elevator.. She was confused that she has been moved, knowing that Winston is probably the one behind this action, she just shrugged it off.

The elevator opens and it revealed a man with a black suit and a long hair that covered his whole face, Y/N doesn't even need to see the man's face.. She knew that this was the guy she loved, the one who she still loves.

John was stunned at the person that is infront of him.. Y/N L/N, the girl he used to love but didn't do anything because he was afraid to jeopardize their friendship, so he moved on and that's where he met Helen.

He noticed that Y/N was covered in blood, worries shot through his whole body.. Y/N may be a good assassin but she never cared about the state her body is in..

"Are you okay?"

Y/N's breath hitched, she felt a lump got caught in her throat and her heart was beating out of her chest. The way his eyes travel to her face and body, it was making her weak.

"Im-Im alright.."

John forehead creased, he can see when people are lying to him but Y/N was a very good liar.

"Is that your blood?" He asks gesturing to her whole body.

"Maybe 2 percent of it, the remaining belonged to many assholes who got in my way.." Y/N tried to joke but it came out a little rude..

"I see you haven't change.." John gave her a smile, it has been long since he smiled like this.

"Ye-Yeah..I have to go." She dismissed all the feelings that was once bubbling up again, she entered the elevator and John got out..

"It's nice to see you Y/N, i hope we can get a drink later.." John offered but he only got a blank stare from Y/N..

And she was gone, the elevator has closed it doors..

Y/N doesn't want to see John ever again, she was broken-hearted when he left, the pain she felt can't amount to any gunshot wounds she endured in her life.

Y/N hoped that this was the last time she will see John Wick, the man she loves..

The elevator reached her floor, she walks to her door and unlocked the room.. Entering inside she flops down the couch and grabbed the medical supplies that was laying around in the table infront of the couch.

After she took out the bullet and stitch herself up, she took a shower.. Now she's looking all over her hotel room for any alcohol that will supress the pain she was feeling.. But she found nothing, Charon and Winston know that she always need to have an alcohol in her room but what happend? Did they forgot?

Giving up she went through her clothes and pulled out a black dress, she slowly took of the bathrobes that were covering her body and carefully slid on the dress..

Y/N wore a black leather boots, hiding a dagger knife inside and putting a gun holster in her legs.. She can never be too careful, she let her hair fall on her shoulders as she grabs the door handle and swing it open.

In that exact time the door infront of her room also swing open revealing John..

Y/N mentally curses at herself, she didn't want to see John anymore.. It will only made it harder to move on, she sighs and slammed the door as fast as she could.

John noticed Y/N but his gaze was immediatly broken by the slamming of her door.. Was Y/N avoiding him?

He closed his door and knock on Y/N's.. John heard Y/N curse at herself and the door opened..

"Oh!Hey John!Didn't see you there!" Y/N faked a smile but John saw right through it.

"Drop the act..Are you avoiding me?" John asks with desperation in his tone..

Y/N was frozen, should she tell John her undying love? But she was not like Helen, she wasn't sweet nor nice and she can't givr John the normal life he yearns.. Helen and Y/N are different, John would never love a girl like her..

She was a cold-blooded killer..

A frown escaped her lips as thoughts like that crept unto Y/N's mind.. Shaking off her mind, she focused back on John who was giving her a penetrating gaze..

"N-Nothing, let's get that drink.." She pulled John's arm and lead him to the elevator..

As she touches John's arm it send thousand of sparks to her whole body..

"So what are you up to?" Y/N tried her hardest to change the topic and not look into John's heartmelting eyes..

"You know what i did...How about you?Last i heard you were in Italy?"

Y/N did vacation in Italy--and what she means by vacation was assassinating enemies of the High Table..

"Just a vacation.." She mutters and the elevator opened..

The two got in and pressed the ground floor, an eerie silence filled the elevator..

"Vacation?Did not know that you take those.." John joked making you frown..

"Ha ha!Did not know you make jokes.."

The two just laugh and the ambiance became more comfortable..

"So how are you holding up?" Y/N asks, her tone was dripping with worries..

"I'll be fine.." His face turned into a sad frown, it made Y/N's heart crack, Y/N aches when she sees the love of her life hurting..

"Im sorry.." Y/N comforted the man infront of her and gives him a hug..

And in that action, John couldn't contain the sadness in his heart anymore.. So he closed his eyes and embrace Y/N's hug.. His head falling on the nook of Y/N's neck..

"Im so sorry John.."

She tighten the hug and rubbed his back.. Why can't Y/N seem to let John go? Why can't she move on?

"If you want help, i can help you.. Let's kill those sons of bitches.."

John chucked and Y/N felt the vibrate of his laugh.. Her heart jumped and Y/N's throat getting drier every second that John was in the crook of her neck.

"This is my battle..Besides you are the only thing i have now..I can't bear to lose you too.." John explained, meaning every word of it.. Does he still have feelings for Y/N?

The elevator door reached the floor and the doors opened, standing there was a smirking Winston..

Y/N frowned when she knew what Winston was thinking, he was the only person that knows her undying love for John.. She pulled back from the hug and exits the elevator..

John felt a little disappointed when she pulled away from his embrace, and that's when he sees Winston standing infront of them..

"Hey Winston!" Y/N greeted the father figure she looks up to, and hugs him..

"Ahh!Dear!I see you found our beloved John Wick..." A sly smirk tugged in his lips, John didn't know what that means but he did noticed the way Y/N shifted uncomfortably..

"Im going to the bar.." Y/N announces, leaving John and Winston for the bar..

John watch Y/N walks away from them, the way her hips sway as she move.. He remembered the first time he saw Y/N..

It was another mission for John, kill Alessandro Rossi, the man who planned to overthrown him.. He was in a club waiting for Alessandro to walk in, sitting in the bar and that's when he saw Y/N..

Wearing a tight black dress and sitting across the club, with a drink in her hand.. Y/N was also waiting for Alessandro, she was ordered to get some information from the bastard

He still remember the first sentence Y/N said to him.

"Baba Yaga?You know that names is really weird..Thinking about changing it?" The woman said to him as she pointed a gun to Alessandro's head.

"Wh-what now?" John was mesmerized by Y/N, the way she took down the bodyguards and her sarcastic remarks when Alessandro curses at her..

"You bitch!Im going to kill you and send you to hell!"

"Who said your going to live?" Y/N's voice was blank but it was also dripping with smugness..

"BITCH!!IM SENDING YOU TO HELL!!"

"Well you see--Im the Reaper..Im the one who decides who dies and im also the one who drag people back to hell!"

John was just standing there as Y/N interrogates the man.. He smiles at how sassy she talks to Alessandro and Y/N interrogation skills was top-notch..

"BITCH LET ME OUT OF HERE!YOUR A HEARTLESS BITCH!!I'LL SEE YOU BURNING IN HELL!!IM GOING TO KILL YOU!!YOUR GOING TO DIE WHORE!"

John's jaws clenched at the insults he spit on Y/N, he was always a gentleman.. And that is no way to treat a lady.. He was about to do something when Y/N grabbed a knife and stabbed his knee..

"I know there's a compliment somewhere in there and i'll take it.."

"You bitch!"

"Ah, there it is!"

John stood there with a big smile in his face and when Y/N was done getting information out of him, John thought that she's going to finish the job but instead she turns around and gave John a viscious smirk.

"Im all done!You can kill the motherfuck--"

"You said i'll live!!" Alessandro cried and Y/N just slaps him in the face

''I also said that im 22 so see you in hell.." Y/N gave Alessandro a wicked smile..

"NOOOO!"

"Do it.." She said walking away from the dark warehouse and going outside to get some fresh air..

John just looked at Y/N amazed before turning back to Alessandro who was weeping..

John also remembered the day he realized he was falling inlove with Y/N

Y/N and John began a friendship--more like a partnership, the two was the most highly paid assassins and the most powerful..

It was John's birthday and he doesn't celebrate but when he met Y/N, she keep insisting to celebrate so Y/N throw John some suprise parties but she always fails because he doesn't show up.

Except for one, it was a day before his birthday when Y/N left and said she was going to do a mission in Tokyo but the truth was she threw John a suprise birthday party. The only people who was invited was the two of them..

He entered his apartment and that's where he saw Y/N.. Baking a cake which she was horribly failing at that Y/N didn't even notice John walking in.. The whole place was decorated with birthday banners and balloons..

"Damn!This cake is killing me!" She utters under her breath..

"What are you doing?"

"What the fuck?!" Y/N shouted and she pointed the gun at him..

"Woah!"

"Sorry!Thought you were someone else!"' She pouted and her eyes widen when as she remembered that it was a surpise birthday..

"Oh!SURPRISE!Ugh!I ruined it!I was the one who got suprised!" She shouted making John laugh..

"What are you doing?Are you trying to burn down my kitchen?" He jokes making Y/N frown..

"Ha ha!So funny!Just shut up and help me bake a cake!!Im the infamous Reaper but this cake is killing mee!"

And that was the day he knew he was inlove with you..

"John, you should go for it.."

John snapped back to reality as Winston spoke, he stares at the man and just shake his head..

"I don't know what your talking about.." John push pass Winston..

"You know she feels the same way.."

This made John stop, is it really true?

Is it true that the infamous 'Reaper' likes him back? The memory of Helen suddenly enters him mind.. He felt guilty, like he was cheating..

"Helen would want you to move on.."

John growls at Winston by the mention of Helen's name.. Winston just chuckled and taps his shoulder..

"Kids nowadays.." Winston mumbles and walked towards the elevator.

John sighs and made his way to bar where Y/N was sitting, a whiskey in her hand..

Y/N mind flew to the endless nights she was crying because of John, the way she watch John from a distant on his wedding day because she refused to come.. It took a toll on her emotional and physical state..

The days where Y/N was down, she didn't even do her job right.. It was always messy, her mind was always flying.. She remembers the time she saw John and Helen having fun, that was the day she accepted her faith..

That she and John will always and forever be just friends.

She moved the glass to her lips, taking a sip of the whiskey.. It burned her throat but she was addicted to it, the oh so satisfying burn of the alcohol..

Y/N saw from the corner of her eye a man was approaching her, Y/N's hand traveled to her gun holster, readying it if someone does attack her..

"Am i seeing right?Or Y/N L/N is drinking alone?"

Y/N turned around to see the owner of the voice, a small smirk played in her lips when it dawned to her..

This was Alex Kavelj, a past lover..

Partner.

Friend.

And enemy..

The two of them tried to kill each other, like Mr and Mrs Smith only without the happy ending.. Y/N ended up winning but she couldn't bring herself to kill the man she used to sleep with..

"Well if it isn't Mister Alex Kavelj.." A smirk played in her lips, she turned back her attention on the drink in her hand but her other hand was still on her holster..

"Come to kill me again?" She taunted at the man behind her, she doesn't know Alex intentions..

"You know i wouldn't do that to you.." He purrs sitting next to Y/N, he signaled to the bartender for a drink..

A scoff escaped her lips as she sips her whiskey, and just shakes her head in amusement.

"Lies.."

"Come on Y/N!Believe me!It's like we don't have any history together.."

Y/N wanted to throw her glass at the man beside her but doing that will cause only chaos to the two of them.. Alex just looked at her, his eyes were burning with lust.. And Y/N noticed it, she felt disgusted..

Y/N regrets sleeping with Alex, they used each other.. Y/N used him as a distraction from John while Alex used her for lust..

"Keep dreaming.." Y/N's voice was filled with disgust, she felt a hand on her shoulders.. She was ready to pounce Alex but she sees the man she hates was still sitting besides her..

Turning her head, she sees John with a serious face.. Y/N has got to admit that she was turned on for just a little bit..

"Is there something wrong?" John asks, his voice was stern and filled with authority..

Y/N just give John a small smile and turn to face Alex.. She slowly let go of her gun holster, she felt safe with John with her.

"Just dealing with pests, that's all.." She said gulping the last bit of whiskey in her glass..

"Mind if i sit with you?" John asks, his hand still holding her shoulder..

"Well that is the deal.." Y/N smiles, she hears Alex scoff..

"Is this your new boy toy?"

"No he's just a fri--"

"Yes, i am..Now what does it matter to you?" John cuts Y/N off, her jaw was wide open.. Surprised at what John had say..

"Chill man!Just reuniting with an old friend.." Alex winks at Y/N making her shudder in disgust.

"Okay..Now leave.." John demanded with the coldest stare anyone could ever get.

Alex just laughs grabbing his drink and walked away from but not without giving Y/N a flirtatious wink..

"Call me if that toy boy of yours is broken!" He waved at Y/N but she just growled at him..

Turning back her attention to the bartender while gesturing a refill.. John sits next to her, moving a little closer to Y/N.

"Who was that?" John asks his eyes were filled with anger and jealousy.. But Y/N didn't see it, she was busy melting in his eyes.

"Just an old acquaintance.."

"Doesn't seem like it.." John growls..

Y/N eyebrows were furrowed at her friends weird behaviour.. Ignoring it she takes another sip of her whiskey, John motioned for a drink and points at my whiskey.

"Yeah, im totally lying..We used to have a friends with benifits thing.. Then we tried to kill each other but i made the mistake of letting him go.."

John whole body stiffened when he heard that term 'friends with benefits'.. He doesn't even know what that means but that does sound very nice..

"What that does mean?" He asks..

Y/N laughs at John's confused face.. She forgot that John doesn't know slangs, he only used formal ones..

"Oh, God!I need to teach you slangs.."

John looked at Y/N as she drink all her alcohol, she faces him..

"Friends with benefits is a sexual relationship without the feelings and commitment.."

John felt his blood boil, he never knew that Y/N was capable of doing that.

"You did that?With him?"

"Well--Yeah.."

"Why?" John said glaring at Y/N..

She felt uneasy, this was the usual John.. Always protecting her, treating her like she was a kid.

"Well--I was reall--"

"You shouldn't do that!It--Just don't do that again.."

Y/N was getting angry as soon those words left his mouth.. He was the reason why.. He was the reason she threw herself at Alex.. He was the reason she was a blabbering mess when he retired.. She wanted to scream that in John's face..

All those days she felt alone and small, that's why she formed a relationship with Alex.. He was just a confidence booster for Y/N.

"You don't get to order me like that..It's my life and it's my goddamn decision!" She screams at John, it was full of anger and spite.

People are now staring at them, she stands up and paid the drinks she had..

"See you around, Wick.."

John knew that Y/N was mad at him, she just called him by his last name.. She never does that, again she saw Y/N walk away from him.

A part of him felt guilty, but he shakes it off and exits the hotel to carry out the mission that was given to him..

Y/N walks pass Charon, she toss some coins to him..

"Bottle of vodka.." Those were enough for the man to understand.. Y/N made her way outside, she was going to kill another enemy of the High Table..

Sighing, Y/N made her way to the apartment unit she owns.. It was already dark, she reached the door of her apartment..

Slowly opening it, she enters cautiously.. She wasn't followed but maybe someone was waiting here for her.. She grabs her gun, and scope the place but she found it empty..

Y/N enters her room and went straight to the closet.. There was some few clothes but it was just mostly guns, ammunitions and files.

She grabs a duffel bag and shove guns and grenades there, Y/N was busy packing when she hears her front door rattle it was followed by a knock.

She closed her walk in closet and hide behind a post near the front door.. She was ready to kill this person.

This could be someone after her..

Gripping her gun, she carefully walks to the door.. Taking a look at the peephole she found her neighbor who was an old woman..

She opened the door but not fully open, she hides the hand that was holding her gun in her back.

"Mrs. Kranowski!It's late, what are you doing here?" She fakes a smile and the old woman just pulled out a letter from her pockets..

"Dear, this was addressed to you but delivered to me..I got this today but since you were not here i kept it..And then i saw you entering your apartment so im giving it to you now..."

The woman gave Y/N the letter, and she gladly accepted it.

"Thank you Mrs. Kranowski.." She didn't give a chance for the old woman to talk, Y/N already closed the door, locking it in the process.

She examined the letter, it did belong to her.. Opening it, she saw a letter.. It was from her father, the leader of the Camorra crimial organization and also the member of the High Table.

Y/N is the youngest D'Antonio..

Yes, she was another D'Antonio, the youngest and most ruthless.. Their father treated her like a weapon, ordering her to kill people and doing his dirty works.. Santino was the only one who treated her like she was human..

No one even knew she was a D'Antonio, maybe it was a good thing, even John doesn't know her true identity.

She sighs as the horrible memories flooded her mind, the way her Father forced her to take advanced assassination training at a very young age.. The rigorous training that almost took her life.

The killer instinct inside her was awaken at the young age of 12.. She had no mother to protect her from the wrath of her Father.. So she had no choice but to oblied to his father orders

She starts to read the letter, her hands shaking at the crude penmanship that belonged to her father..

Dear Amore Mio,

Im sorry for the things that i put you through, i blamed you for your Mother's death but you were innocent.. I broke you, i failed you and your Mother.. I made you do horrible things, but know that i love you.. You are my little stellina, you are my cuoro mio..

The day you were born is the day of your Mother's death.. I regret not giving you a normal life, not spending time with you.. And im really sorry for making you the worst and evil version of you.. But i do know that you still have the last bit of goodness inside you, and Winston also told me about that pretty boy Wick that you love so much.. You have grown up, you have learned to love someone..

My time is running out, and you, my daughter will live a normal life, that's my last wish for you.. Your siblings will fight over my position in the High Table and i know you will be stuck in the middle of all this.. I have a last gift for you, i gave it to Winston.. I get that you trust him more than you trust me.. So i left it to the guy you trust so much..

Gianna will take over my position, but you know that Santino would not bow down that easy.. Bloods will shed and im thankful that you won't be a part of it.. Don't do anything stupid and live a normal life but i know that living like that is impossible.. I love you my little stellina..

Tears were strolling down her face, she didn't know what to do.. But she hates Winston for telling her father about John Wick.. She hugs the letter, nursing it..

This was the first time her father gave her affection, the first time her father apologized to the horrible things he did.. This was also the first time he ever mentioned Y/N's mother, and the first time he said i love you..

Y/N's phone rang making her snap out of her trance, wiping the tears in her face she stands up and looked over the caller id..

Santino..

She accepted the call and unsurely put it in her ear..

"H-Hello?" Y/N's voice was hoarsed, her brother doesn't even need to tell her, she knew that her father is dead..

"Y/N!Father is dead.."

"I-I'll be there.." Those were the words that left her mouth and immediately ended the call..

That's where she broke down, silent scream erupted from her lips.. Her soul was broken again, she was on her floor balled up like a baby..

She suddenly jolted up when she remembered her task, kill Monuira Guisa, this man was planning to elimanate a member of the High Table..

Taking off her feelings and emotions and shoving them to the pit of her stomach.. She can't mess this shit up, so she stands and wipe away the tears in her face..

She washed her face and changed clothes to a more comfortable and moveable clothes.

Grabbing the duffel bag with the ammunitions, guns and grenades.. She prepared herself, taking a deep breath she exits the apartment but before that she enabled her security system.

Locking the door, she discreetly walks away from the building and made her way to the task that was given to her..

Y/N arrives at the hiding spot her target is in, she first scope the place.. There were dozens of boduguards, which means one thing..

He knew someone was coming for him..

A viscious grin formed in her lips, she was going to blow some steam off.. She grabs gun and daggers, hiding it in her boots and jacket.

"Let's kill some motherfu--Ouch!" Y/N was starting to walk when she tripped over a rock.. Steadying and readying herself once again and started to walk..

Ready to kill..

People hide.. Death is coming..

Y/N stands in the middle of the room, she was surrounded by dead bodies courtesy by her.. Infront of her was Monuira, he was bound to a chair.. Sleeping peacefully, Y/N took a picture as another proof.. Then she bring her gun to his head and pulled the trigger..

The sound of her gun echoes through the whole room, sighing as she felt guilt run through the course of her body.

She grabs her bag from the floor and continues to exit the death scene.. No one survived, nobody was left alive..

She went straight to the street leading to the The Continental..

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 20 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (19)

Next part (21)->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

His

The moment you open the front door, you know something's off. It's night already, and you're sure, by how dark it is, that every single light is turned off. Keanu was supposed to stay with Liam as you went to your appointment with the psychologist. Another one, someone who will give you a different perspective. So you don't get why the house seems to be empty. He doesn't take Liam out without telling you, and you do the same, always letting the other know where you'll be.

“Keanu?” You call, throwing your purse on the couch and taking your heels off.

Fear starts creeping over your skin when you see something weird on the floor, some feet away. Walking there, you bend over to take it, and at the same moment you realize what it is, you see another, and another, and one more after, forming a trail that leads to the back of the house. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder why are there so many red rose petals on the floor.

“Keanu?” You call again, making your way to the backyard, an unusual yellowish light getting your attention. “What–” The words get caught on your throat when you notice more and more the petals, and as you follow and then, raising your head, your eyes go wide at the sight of the backyard, completely lit up by candles.

There's a table set in the middle and roses all over the place. Keanu stands by the table, in a damn suit, which makes him look even more handsome. Mouth half open, you take a look at everything, perfectly set, before starting at Keanu once again.

“Ke... What...” He moves his hand a little and a slow, soft song starts playing. You gasp, biting your lip.

“Can I have this dance?” He asks, and you nod, making your way over him and taking his hand on yours.

Keanu guides your arms around his neck, his big, warm hands resting on your hip, and it burns right through the delicate fabric of the green dress you're wearing. And then, you start moving, from side to side, following the rhythm.

“What's this about, Ke?” You have to ask. It's been a while since you decided to start dating. It does sound silly, given everything that happened, but you both thought it would be a good start. You also promised not to let out what happened between you two, since people wouldn't understand and you don't want to affect his career. You forgave him, wholeheartedly, and you know he did what he did to keep you safe.

“Just thought we needed a romantic dinner.” He simply says, taking your hand and pushing you away, so gently, before pulling you back into his arms. “And don't worry. Liam is with Mrs. Jackson.”

“Alright...” Raising an eyebrow, you look up at him. “Is it a special occasion? Like my birthday or something?” The day you were born was mentioned, but you didn't really pay attention.

“Not for a couple of months.”

“You're oddly mysterious tonight, Ke.” Tiptoeing, you place a kiss on his lips.

“What's wrong with a little bit of mystery?” When the song ends, he takes your hand, guiding you to the table.

“There's nothing wrong with it.” Shrugging your shoulders, you smile at him, taking your seat.

“I'll serve dinner. Give me a minute.” You nod as he walks back inside, taking the time to look around again.

The yard was never so beautiful, the candles casting soft, warm lights. There are red petals, scattered around the place, and roses on the centerpiece. Reaching out your hand, you take one, bringing it to your nose and breathing in the amazing scent.

“(Y/N),” Keanu calls when he's near you, and when you turn around, you don't find anything on his hands. “I was going to wait so we could have dinner first, but...” Taking your hand in his, Keanu pulls you up, and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

He takes a deep breath before searching for something on the inside of his suit, and you feel your blood running cold when he gets down on one knee.

Keanu reveals a small, dark box, and when he opens it, there's the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in it. It shines, lit up by the candles, and you see three stones, the one in the middle a little bigger than the others.

“(Y/N), I know it's only been some months since we started... Dating.” He begins, and you feel your hands shaking. “But everything happened to us in quite an unusual way and I'm completely in love with you.” You're already crying, a hand covering your mouth. “I thought I knew what love was, but I was so wrong. This is love, and it's... Undescribable. The way I feel when you walk in the room is... You own my heart, it's yours.”

Biting back a sob, you let him take your hand in his.

“So I couldn't wait anymore, beautiful. I want what we had while stuck on that lie to be real. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Forever. So... (Y/N)... Do you want to be my wife?”

“Yes,” you mutter, a little too fast, but since you're not sure if he could hear it, you nod, watching as he slides the ring on your finger.

There are no words to describe this moment. As Keanu stands up again, welcoming you into his arms and lifting you up, and you know this is right. Maybe everything meant to lead you to this moment. You know there are important people you left behind, like Daniel, your first husband, but you can only count on what you remember. And maybe just maybe, this was meant to be since the beginning. And you're happy, beyond happy, to have found the love of your life.

So it doesn't take much until the preparations start. Actually, they start on the very next day. For the general public, you'll be just a wedding vow renewal, since you don't remember the first. But it doesn't matter what they think, only what you know.

Laura is overjoyed, and she takes it into her hands to help you with everything. The date is set for only two months after the proposal, so it gives you little time to put everything together. And Laura is as indecisive as you are about the wedding dress. You do want to know Keanu's opinion, but you really want it to be a surprise, so you manage to chose it without asking him.

Things start getting hectic as the day approaches, but thanks to Laura, and to some people Keanu hired to organize everything, stuff is getting done just in time. When the day comes, there's not a single thing that isn't perfect.

There weren't allowed any journalists, just a single photographer, who's friends with Keanu. You know the pictures will find their way online, and you're well aware of some paparazzi hiding away. But nothing else matters. When you say ‘I do’, dressed in white, eyes on the most handsome man on Earth, nothing else matters.

And when you kiss, sealing your love before all the guests, you finally understand the true meaning of happiness. And as you walk down the aisle, hand in hand with Keanu as he holds Liam in his free arm, you smile at the camera, barely able to believe your eyes.

Sometime later, you're watching Liam playing in Mrs. Jackson's arms as you're seated on Keanu's lap. It was just for some photos, but you decided to stay.

“I have some news. But only if you agree.” Keanu says, low voice on your ear.

“Let's hear it.”

“I thought about a week in the Caribean as a honeymoon. But in November, so Liam is a little older. And if you think he'd be alright without us for this period.” As he speaks, Keanu pulls your hair away, placing a kiss on your neck.

“If we can hire Laura as a babysitter, I think it'll be alright.” Biting your lip, you look down at him. “And you should at least try to control yourself, Mr. Reeves. There are still some hours before we can be alone.” Lowering your voice, you smirk, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Because you're so good on self-control, Mrs. Reeves.”

“Oh, I love my new name.” Kissing him again, you only pull away when a song starts playing. “Ok, we have to dance.” Jumping to your feet, you start moving already, holding his hand as you walk to the dance floor. The song is fast, so you get this chance to be all over Keanu the best you can without letting anyone else notice the teasing.

“Do you really think it's a good idea to tease your husband before the wedding night?” He asks, his huge hands coming to encircle your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“It's the best idea I ever had.” Winking, you turn around, moving along with the rhythm, rasing an eyebrow to see Laura dancing with Robert. That took some time, but you finally see something happening.

The rest of the party goes on wonderfully well, and when it's over, you go back home. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson offered to stay with Liam tonight, so you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You're not entirely surprised to find your bedroom all decorated with candles and roses. You love it, but before actually getting into bed, you completely fail on the self-control thing, joining Keanu in the shower.

But of course, it doesn't stop there, and in no time, the amazingly decorated bed is messed up, once again claimed as yours. And even though you're tired of the party and the ceremony, you can't stop. You can't have enough of Keanu, you can't have enough of finally being his.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303 @june-harris

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The Rooster Sunrise motel and the roots of the narrative at the sunset of the story. A masterclass in Dean characterization

If I didn’t care / more than words can say / if I didn’t care / would I feel this way? / If this isn’t love / then why do I thrill? / And what makes my head go round...

This song plays as Travis comes in to check at the Rooster Sunrise motel - late in the night, later than the motel technically allows checks in. Metaphorically, this episode happens later than it should. Everything happens later than it should. Dean defeats the monster too late, after it gets Travis dead. They’re running a case when they should actually be preparing for the ultimate showdown against God. Dean tells Sam the truth about Jack too late. The very episode is “out of place” in the season - I mean, purposely so - because it gives us a “old style” hunting case in a season where hunting has lost its original purpose in the narrative but has taken a different purpose, as a sort of caricature of itself, as we’ve discussed about before.

This episode is a last. Okay, we haven’t seen the next few yet, but this episode has a specific function, and it is to be the last traditional hunting case of the show. It’s about the past, and that’s why it can happen now that hunting can no longer exist, not really. This season, we have never had real hunting cases. Fake ones, weird ones, ones that just felt off -- obviously because the story is no longer working the way it did before. Chuck’s “hamster wheel” has been fully revealed, and the narrative can no longer function in the old way.

And this episode happens as... a sunset, actually. Or better, both sunrise and sunset because it shows us, in parallel, the beginning and the end. The first case Dean and Sam work together, and what is essentially the last, at least the last with the traditional formula - a monster of the week, a motel, a gross place, a civilian saved, some choking, some yeeting across a motel room, you know how it goes.

(The elephant in the room is the sun/sunrise imagery across the show, especially relevant after the latest episode brought back the Gas’n’Sip logo, of course, but let’s talk about something else here.)

There are many echoes in the episode. 2x11 Playthings, a case in a hotel that involved children. 11x16 Safe House, where a case was run both in the past, by Bobby and Rufus, and in the present, and involves a monster’s nest and visions. Of course 1x18 Something Wicked, where they defeat a monster that targeted kids after an attempt when they were kids had failed to get rid of the monster for good, and where we also get flashbacks of them as kids. And many other little references and callbacks. A pretty major one (*rubs hands together*) is 10x19 The Werther Project, where something supernatural causes hallucinations that make the victim kill themselves; Dean also almost stabbed himself back then. (Cuthbert Sinclair again... bless.) Oh, well, the pilot itself, where Dean and Sam comment that they make a good team. And then Carver-era secret and lies, of course.

And 14x13 Lebanon. (Yes it gets its own paragraph...) Dean smashing the stone in the ring, making the monster disappear, parallels straight to Sam smashing the pearl, making John disappear. The other monster of the episode is John, of course, who drops the kids in some motel alone while he gets “out of reach” when Dean tries to contact him on the phone (callback to season 1, when they kept trying to call John on the phone and he never answered, not even when Dean was dying or they were in their old house in Lawrence and terrified). John only appears as an invisible figure driving the car, symbolically driving their lives (all this “killing God and getting free” is nothing but a mirror to getting free from John’s influence, right). Callback to 9x07 Bad Boys, where we also see a younger Dean and we also deal with the weight of the lifestyle John placed on him, in an episode that features a literal ghost of a parent. (Heck, we even had Dean stealing food - in 9x07 he was caught by a policeman and brought to the boys’ house, now Caitlin jokes about arresting him.)

As 1x18 Something Wicked, we are presented with how growing up among monsters and hunting cases impacted Dean as a kid. Interestingly, Sam tries to reassure Dean in both episodes, telling him that he was just a kid and he shouldn’t be too hard on himself. In 1x18 he had ruined John’s hunt and put Sam in danger (of course the implication is that John put them in danger by using them as bait and expecting a child - addditionally unaware of what was going on - to watch after a younger child), now that he didn’t tell anyone about the nest because it was too horrifying to share that with other kids (of course, he’d also been a kid and shouldn’t have had to investigate a child-killing monster, so the implication is again that John shouldn’t have left them alone and unable to reach him in case of danger. It’s so telling that the episode has Dean discovering the bodies of dead kids while Sam is playing with another kid - although, of course, the game also turns terrifying soon).

So it’s an episode that has it all: the ghost of John Winchester, the way Dean’s parentified role impacts negatively his relationship with Sam (the episode establishes a connection between Dean shielding Sam from the horror of the monster’s nest and Dean essentially shielding Sam from the horror of the latest Jack news, it’s always about Dean feeling the weight of a responsibility to Sam because he’s Sam’s caretaker, even if he ostensibily mentions Billie’s plan and stuff as the reason of his silence), and of course the theme of FEAR.

I’ve been screaming this from rooftops pretty much since I’ve been here on tumblr - fear is the interpretative key to Dean’s character. Since season 1. Since the beginning. (You’re scared. It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too.) Many posts have been written about how anger is a secondary emotion, when the narrative ostensibly had Dean be “angry”. Dean has dealt with fear almost his entire life, and this episode basically works as an asterisk to the season. Hey, we’re having everyone comment on Dean’s anger! Including Dean himself! He says he doesn’t know why he has these outbursts! Well, we do know. Little reminder here now... he’s scared. And he’s scared because he cares, because he loves so much, and when you keep losing what you love you are scared, scared of losing more and more, stuck in a hamster wheel of losing and losing and losing.

In fact, if losing Jack will stop the hamster wheel, he’s fine with it, because as long as they’re stuck in the wheel they’ll lose Jack again anyway, they keep losing everything over and over, Jack and Cas and everyone. In this episode he mentions funerals of hunters, friends, how they couldn’t even attend all the funerals of people they were close to. There were so many. They’ve always been so surrounded by horror and fear and death. He just wants it to stop. (Of course the plan cannot work, just like the immersion therapy method didn’t work for Travis. Well, poor Travis’ idea of facing his fears to overcome his trauma worked very well on paper, just like Billie’s plan seems to be the best option on paper, but we still have a few episodes still to see...)

This episode is an exploration of the motives of Dean’s behavior, and it spells them out very clearly. John’s abuse and neglect, the forced parentified role he had to take towards Sam since a too-early age, the nightmarish horrors he had to see (while shielding Sam from, which reminds me of the infamous scene about Max’s childhood...), the neverending chain of losses with its baggage of fear.

Dean wants - needs - to defeat Chuck, just like Travis needed to face his fears and overcome his trauma. Because Chuck means hamster wheel. And the hamster wheel isn’t just a theoretical lack-of-free-will thing. It’s not just about a philosophical/theological concept. It’s about the very real cycle of horror and fear and loss that Dean has spent his entire life in. It’s about a pile of dead children, both a metaphor for his brutally ended childhood and a very concrete example of what has been haunting him for so long.

His apparently “okayness” with Billie’s plan is not out of a revenge thing or lack of forgiveness towards Jack (of course we can add millions of words about Dean’s relationship with Death). His okayness with killing Amara is... well, only partly about punishing her for, as he sees it, toying with him. His anger is because he feels so much. If I didn’t care / more than words can say / if I didn’t care / would I feel this way?

[keanureevesisbae]

Christmas with John Wick

Summary: John Wick is about to spend his first Christmas in years.

John Wick x clumsy!reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my one shot for the gift exchange! Thank you @overheardatthecontinental​ for this lovely idea. It has been quite some time since I wrote for John Wick and it sure was fun. @ladyreapermc​ I hope you like it 🥰 Merry Christmas everyone!!

John hadn’t celebrated Christmas since Helen died.

Actually, he hadn’t celebrated any holiday at all after the passing of his late wife four years ago and he figured he would never do that again. While the world around him would celebrate days like Valentines Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas, he would sit on his couch, staring at the fireplace with his loyal canine sitting next to him to keep him company.

However this year, that is not the case, all because he met the love of his life: Y/N. He remembers it clearly, seeing her for the first time. March 21st, the first day of spring. He went to his favorite cafe, to order a simple cappuccino, a tradition he started since the beginning of this year. While everything was the same as usual, the presence of the world’s biggest scatterbrain he has ever seen, was out of the ordinary.

She walked in, her head practically buried in her purse. She wore a pink midi dress, paired with white sneakers and when she finally looked up, he saw her pink lips and her beautiful sparkly eyes.

John didn’t believe in love at first sight, but after locking eyes with her, the beautiful woman smiling at him, he was put in severe doubt.

Every day he would see her in the cafe. Sometimes she dropped her money, her entire bag or worse: her coffee. Seeing her muttering apologies made his heart flutter. When she dropped her lipstick and it rolled towards him, he picked it up, so he could hand it back to her. Yet again he was met with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, including the glimmer in her eyes and right there and then, he fell head over heels in love with her.

John thought of her quite a lot, in and outside the cafe. However, when this human form of adorable asked for his name and introduced herself, she was on his mind 24/7. He was looking forward on seeing her in the cafe again and again and again.

Y/N. He kept thinking about her name, how well it matched her personality and how it sounded like a beautiful symphony. For hours on end he kept wondering whether or not he should ask her out. Should he ruin what the two of them already had? A nice good morning exchange every day? Some small talk?

Besides, there was always the opportunity of being turned down. She was breathtakingly gorgeous and way out of his league. Why would she even agree to going out with him?

However, when she greeted him one morning, said his name with her beautiful voice and even touched his arm, he decided to go for it and ask her out.

On April Fools day.

After frantically trying to explain to her that he was definitely not kidding and he was for real, she said yes. He couldn’t believe that on the day of the jokes, he a) had a date and b) had his first kiss in years.

Y/N was and is the best thing that could ever happen to John. He loves waking up next to her and going to the cafe together instead of alone. Simply not being alone with his loyal dog, was all he ever wanted, but never in a million years he thought he would get that.

John watches the love of his life roam through the store, taking in every section of the Christmas department, as he walks behind her with the packed cart.

‘John, honey,’ she says as she spins around to look at him. ‘This is so adorable, look at it!’ She shows him a single Christmas ornament of a pitbull. ‘He looks like Tito, doesn’t he?’

While he never consciously named his dog and simply referred to him as “Boy”, Y/N couldn’t stand the fact the canine did not have a name. Besides, she couldn’t whistle, so calling him became a pain.

She tried tons of names. Bodie, Hunter, Jesse, Victor and even Rudolph, but the dog didn’t respond. Until she tried the name Tito as a joke. While John wasn’t necessarily a fan of the name Tito (he actually hated it, joke or not), he saw how Y/N’s eyes lit up when the dog responded to her, nearly wagging his tail off.

And then he realized the pitbull was indeed a Tito.

‘Put it in the cart, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘If, of course, you can find an empty place to put it.’

Y/N stares at the cart and while she scrunches up her nose, she lets out a sigh. ‘I’m going a little overboard, aren’t I?’

He can’t help but chuckle. ‘Maybe a little bit, but I don’t mind,’ he says, as he looks in the cart, filled with lights, garlands and edible and non-edible ornaments.

‘You are paying for all of this and this ornament alone is ten dollar, which is way too expensive for one single ornament.’

She already walks away, but John grabs her hand and pulls her back. ‘We’re buying this one, sweetheart. I don’t care this alone is ten dollars, I really don’t.’ He lets go of the cart, so he can gently pull the ornament out of her hand.

‘John,’ she says, ‘I think everything in that cart is worth over five hundred dollar. I honestly don’t know what I was even thinking. I guess it’s for the best if we put some stuff back.’

‘We are not putting anything back. Remember, this is our first Christmas together. I want it to be as memorable as we can make it and all of this,’—he nods towards their cart—‘is a necessity to make our Christmas perfect.’

‘Are you sure?’ she asks. ‘I mean, it’s quite a lot. Stuff wise and money wise and I don’t want you to regret it.’

‘More than sure.’ He presses a kiss on her forehead. She always worries about money, insists on paying for the coffees and other dates, but he never lets her. He adores spending money on her and this… All the Christmas stuff, is only the beginning of the many Christmases they are going to spend together.

The beginning of their future together, because he is positive they are never going to break up. Maybe it’s too optimistic… Maybe, but if it were up to him, he’d never let her go. ‘I’m gonna say this one more time: don’t you ever worry about money again. I’ve got you, darling.’

The two of them stroll through the store some more and Y/N puts some more necessary stuff in the cart. They end up buying Christmas stuff worth a little over seven hundred dollars. John senses an upcoming heart from both the cashier and his girlfriend. While he pays with his card and pretends not to notice, he places his hand on her lower back. ‘Remember to breath, darling,’ he whispers, as the two of them walk to the car. ‘It’s just money.’

After a quick drive back home, they are greeted by Tito. And with them, he means Y/N, because Tito simply ignores John. Sometimes it makes him jealous to see his dog is almost claiming his girlfriend, but he is also forever grateful they get along this amazingly.

‘We are going to decorate our house today!’ she tells the pitbull, who shakes his entire butt as he wags his tail in excitement. ‘I even bought you a stocking, do you like that?’ She kisses the top of his head, before walking towards the table. While John carries the boxes and bags inside, Y/N’s full attention is directed towards her beloved notebook, where she scribbled down what she has planned for his place.

Originally she wanted to decorate her own studio, like she usually did before they started dating, but he keeps telling her that his place is her place. It’s hard for her to believe that, however she barely is at her own studio anymore. She does, on the other hand, still refer to their place as solely his place.

Maybe decorating it will change her mind.

John walks up to her, stands behind her and buries his face in her nape, taking in her lovely perfume. ‘Okay, darling, what’s the plan?’ he asks against her skin, wrapping his arms around her.

‘First the tree,’ she tells him, ‘then the stairs. Everything we have left, we’ll find a spot for that, I can guarantee.’

🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻

It took them six hours before they finally decorated the stairs, the tree and the rest of the place. Six hours! It’s safe to say his girlfriend might’ve gone a tad overboard. Everywhere John goes, there is something Christmas related, however he wouldn’t want it any other way.

‘Darling, you need help?’ he asks from the couch, while Y/N is preparing something in the kitchen.

‘No,’ she yells back. ‘Just adding some sprinkles and then it’s all done.’ Not long after she told him that, she walks into the living room with a tray in her hands. ‘Two hot chocolates,’ she says with a smile, placing the tray on the little table in front of the couch and she hands him a mug. ‘Not to brag, but my hot chocolates are the best in the entire world. In fact, they are that good, you might want them all year around.’ Y/N sits next to him with her own white mug she took from her own place. ‘Cheers,’ she says with a smile.

John takes a small sip of the drink and hums in content. ‘This is delicious, darling.’

‘And?’ she pushes with a smile.

‘And I might want this all year around.’

‘Very good,’ she laughs. ‘Oh, look at you.’ She wipes the whipped cream off his nose, before leaning over to him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he says to her, ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too and once again: I’m sorry for totally overdoing it and having you working like a dog, because I had unrealistic ideas.’

John simply scoffs, before chuckling. ‘None of that. Besides, I managed to make your ideas reality, so how unrealistic were those ideas.’ He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer to his body. ‘I like it a lot and there is a slight possibility I’m not going to take this down anytime soon.’

The entire night, they spend drinking hot chocolate, watching cheesy Netflix Christmas movies and after a while, his girlfriend fell asleep in his arms. Thankfully she was already wearing her pajamas, so he carries her upstairs, walking passed the Christmas lights woven into the bars of the stairs. John places her in their bed, pressing multiple kisses on her cheek, before he quickly goes downstairs, to lock the doors and turn off some lights.

John passes the lit up Christmas tree and his eye falls on a picture. He didn’t know this was in here. He bends towards the picture, so he can see it up close. It��s a picture of him and Helen. Y/N knows about Helen and she looks at their pictures quite a lot—she even told him to put some up.

And now she placed one in the tree. His Y/N sure is a special one and truly one of a kind.

He smiles at the picture, thinking about Helen telling him to make most out of his life after she passes. It took him awhile, but he is finally getting there. Finally getting to a place where he is happy again.

‘I’m going to have a Merry Christmas, Helen,’ he whispers. ‘I hope you do too from wherever you are.’

🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻

[collecting-stories]

Envy - John B Routledge

Request: Oooh, how about if the reader left with Kie after the big fight with John B about Sarah, and basically made the ultimatum "either she goes or both of us do" and then when the boys strand the girls on the boat together she admits the reason she hates Sarah is because she's been in love with John B for forever (also bonus points if Kie and Sarah admit they had crushes on each other when they were friends)

A/N: I wasn’t sure if you wanted Kie and Sarah to end up together so I decided not to. I just made it kinda angsty. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You sat on the further away from Kiara and Sarah, listening to them debate their perceived grievances with each other. You didn’t even want to be here, and you probably wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t been with Kiara when Pope came to pick her up from The Wreck. She’d stormed out on John B after he tactlessly announced that he was dating Sarah Cameron now. The feud between the two girls ran deep. You were sure Kiara had legitimate reasons for hating Sarah. All you had was a stupid, unrequited, crush on John B that had been hanging on since the seventh grade.  

Pathetic sure, but it made you seem like a great friend at the moment. At least to Kiara as you stomped out of the Chateau with her, leaving the boys and Sarah behind. And maybe, if you hadn’t been there at the The Wreck, they could’ve just forgotten your problems and glossed over the whole ordeal so that next time you all got together, and there was always bound to be a next time regardless of who someone was dating, they would pretend you had been on board all along.  

“You just ghosted me, for no reason-” Kiara was saying while you leaning over the side of the boat, half wondering if you could drown yourself to get out of this share circle.  

They were two seconds away from confessing their love for each other and you knew you should be ‘happy’ that they were resolving whatever tension they had before but that didn’t mean anything for you. Because in the long run even if you didn’t get off this god forsaken boat with Sarah still fawning over John B it wasn’t like he was going to suddenly look at you and everything would change.

“What’s the verdict then?” You asked as Kiara walked over to where you were laying, standing over you with her hands on her hips. Sarah was looking for spare blankets inside to keep warm.

“John B and the gold, that’s what’s important.” Kiara replied, “what about you?”

“What about me?” You asked, already knowing that she was turning it around on you so that she didn’t have to answer anymore questions about how her and Sarah had stopped being friends simply because they liked each other and that Kiara still had those feelings, whether Sarah did or not. “I’m only here cause I was with you at the Wreck.”

“No way!” Sarah said, tossing a blanket to Kiara as she came over, “you said, and I quote, ‘either she goes or both of us do’. So that definitely counts as you being part of this!”  

“I’m not part of this.”

“Yeah, you are.” Sarah replied glaring at you, “I’m not staying on this boat listening to your bullshit excuse about not being part of this. You weren’t exactly cheering me and John B on back at the Chateau.”

You sat up finally, crossing your arms under your chest and looking away from Sarah, “we’ve all been friends for a really long time...no one’s ever broken that barrier. I was just a little apprehensive. Kie didn’t exactly paint you as some great friend.” You explained, leaving out the part where seeing Sarah and John B together had made you want to gouge your eyes out.

Jealousy wasn’t a good look and you didn’t truly have any right to be jealous. She hadn’t taken anything of yours...John B didn’t like you, that was just a fact you were going to have to accept once you were able to get off this stupid boat. It didn’t matter that you were the first one he called that night when his dad didn’t come home. Or that you stayed at his house for nearly three weeks after that, making sure he was okay because his uncle was less than functioning and John B was three seconds from a mental breakdown every minute.  

It didn’t matter that you were with him when Peterkin finally told him that his father was lost at sea, presumed dead. Or that after they found Scooter’s body that John B called you, panic stricken and terrified because all he could think of was his dad.  

None of that mattered because John B didn’t like you. He liked Sarah. And you couldn’t blame him, even Kiara liked Sarah.  

“I just want to help John B, I really care about him.” Sarah explained, “It’s more than just a crush.”

“Just give us a minute?” Kiara asked. She had the same look of anguish on her face that you were sure was on yours. Having a best friend that you were secretly harboring a crush on was hell, but at least she knew that there had been a moment in time when Sarah liked her too. “You okay?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You whispered as Kiara sat down next to you, “hey it’s so great that you’re dating John B, sorry I was a douche to you it’s just I’ve been pretty much in love with him since I was 12?”  

“Maybe not that.” Kiara laughed.  

“I don’t want her to know...I don’t want her to tell John B cause she thinks it’s hilarious-”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“Why? Cause she told you that she used to have a crush on you too and maybe still does...she’s not sure.” You replied. You just wanted off the boat already. “I’ll be nice. And we’ll be best friends, trust me, but I just...it’s gonna take some time.”  

“I think that’s why they confined us to a boat for the night.”  

“Yeah well, it’s gonna take more time than that. I can’t just stop liking someone...I know you can’t either.”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Kiara replied, looking away for a moment before glancing over to where Sarah was setting down the blankets to sleep.

“I’d rather not be on this boat.”

“They’ll come get us in the morning.” Kiara promised.  

-

When the boys came back in the morning Kiara and Sarah climbed on the Pogue first, the latter taking a spot beside John B at the wheel. You stayed on the Heyward’s boat, helping JJ in so he could fix the engine and take it back to the dock where Pope’s dad was no doubt waiting with a lecture.  

“Maybe I should come, it is my dad’s boat.” Pope reasoned, standing at the edge of the Pogue and looking over at JJ as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and handed it to you.  

“We got it, we’ll meet you at the Chateau.”

“Oh my god, thank you, I’m freezing.” You muttered, pulling it on as quickly as possible and wrapping your arms around yourself.  

“How’d it go?” JJ asked, going straight to work. You followed him inside and stood over the open hatch, watching him. You weren’t the best when it came to repairing things and always thought it was pretty impressive that JJ could get just about any boat, car, or motorcycle that he wanted running in under an hour.  

“Fine I guess...”

“Still hung up on John B?” He asked, looking up at you.

“I’m not...hung up on John B.” You insisted, grimacing. Did he really know too? If he knew...did John B know?

“Here’s hoping.”

-

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[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 93

warnings: nsfw, mentions of vomit (sorry) hold my hand masterlist

The sky is incredibly blue today, but it’s beginning to get swallowed up by the thick wall of gray rain clouds that have been moving in all afternoon. Birds are still chirping loudly in the trees, but even they seem to be hunkering down for a big storm that’s coming your way. You feel the cool air coming in with the storm every time the wind blows, and you know you should probably close the windows that you left open in the house.

“So,” John exhales loudly as you look over at him, “You kicked my ass…yet again.”

You laugh as you roll over to your stomach, “Well, I have a good teacher.”

John has been teaching you more self defense, and it’s actually become one of your favorite things to do with him. He’s always so funny when you finally get the upper hand and bring him down to the ground, and it’s sweet how amazed he is by how fast you’re picking everything up.

You hear the thunder off in the distance as you close your eyes, and you open them quickly when you feel a sprinkle land on your cheek. You’re far too tired to even get up once the rain begins to sprinkle down, and in all honestly it feels pretty good against your warm skin. You scoot a little closer to John as he closes his eyes, and you wiggle yourself under his arm to lay with him.

“I’m too tired to get up.” John chuckles, opening his eyes to look at you, “You might have to carry me inside.”

“No, you’re gonna carry me,” you smile, leaning over to kiss him, “Remember I said that if I won, you would have to do whatever I say.”

John laughs as he sits up, “Pretty sure that was not the deal.”

“Well, I kicked your ass and won, so it’s up to me.” you smile when John gasps, then you curl into a ball when he starts to tickle your sides. You kick your legs as John tickles you mercilessly, and you laugh loudly as you try to push him off of you.

“Okay, Little Miss Cocky, put your skills to work.” he laughs, still tickling your sides.

You hold John’s gaze as you look at him, then you pay attention to your body to see where John doesn’t have you pinned to the ground; your right leg is free. John is so focused on you since you’re smiling at him that he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have your leg pinned down -- an unusual mistake for him. You quickly get your leg under John and place your foot on his thigh, pushing him away and sliding back on the mat to get away from him.

Scrambling away from John, you laugh loudly when he pulls you back down by your leg causing you to fall onto your stomach. He crawls up and lays on your back and buries his face in the crook of your neck as he tickles you with his beard.

“Got you.” he whispers, and you put your head down and laugh.

“Oh, no, what ever will I do?” you say sarcastically, looking over your shoulder at him to see his hair is damp from the rain. “We really should probably head in.”

John laughs as he nods, “Yeah, it’s gonna start storming any minute now.”

Groaning loudly as he gets up, John reaches down and pulls you to your feet, then he gives you a sweet kiss before he begins to fold up the mat to bring inside. You sneak a quick little peek at his ass when he bends over, then you grab a handful when he stands up and laughs. John shakes his head and winks at you, and you shrug bashfully before heading inside.

“Hey, what are you thinking for dinner?”

“Uh,” John inhales deeply as he looks around and thinks, “Uh, hmm, whatever you’re in the mood for.”

You groan as you turn back to the fridge, and you shake your head when John laughs. He knows how much you hate being the one to chose what’s for dinner. You dig through the fridge for what to make, and you settle on making tacos since it’s pretty quick and easy.

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as the rain begins to fall down fast and hard, and you smile when you see John closing a few of the windows. He leaves one open near the kitchen table so you’ll be able to listen to the rain when you’re eating, and you smile when he looks at you.

“Tacos?” he asks, then he closes his eyes and hums, “Mm, yes.”

You laugh as you reach out for him, and you close your eyes when he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist. John stirs the pan for you as you watch, and he begins to talk in a weird accent as he pretends to be on a cooking show.

The two of you had a stressful week and a half while you waited for his blood results, but since then, it’s been amazing. John is so happy and sweet, and he seems to really enjoy being married to you -- you certainly enjoy being married to him. You truly married your best friend.

“Ma’am,” John says, leaning forward to see your face, “Are you listening?”

“Sorry,” you laugh as you tilt your head back, “I am now.”

John scoops up a tiny bit of taco meat, then he puts it in front of your face so you can give it a taste test. You nod your head as you cover your mouth and chew, then you give John a thumbs up before you move to get the toppings from the fridge.

“So, I was thinking about something…” John says, and you look up at him as you cut a tomato, “Did you want to go on a honeymoon?”

“I guess I don’t really care either way. I’m happy if we do, I’m happy if we don’t.” you shrug as John leans over the counter, “But it’s not like I would say no if you told me that you planned something for us.”

John chuckles, “I haven’t planned anything. I was wondering if you wanted to go on a honeymoon though. I could plan something, we could go for a week. Just the two of us.”

You look down as you cut the tomato in half, then you look up at John and smile, “I would love that.”

“I just figured that after the stress we went through with my blood test and everything, maybe you’d like to get away from here for a bit.” he says, shrugging when you smile at him. “I personally would love to get away for a bit. Just spend some time with my girl.”

You nod as you hold his gaze and smile, “I would love to spend some time with you. Just me and my guy.”

“Are there any places that you have in mind?” John asks as he gets plates from the cupboard, “Any place in the world. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“That’s a tough one.”

John chuckles, “We can always go to Italy again, I know you loved it there.”

You make your plate quickly, then you walk over to sit down on the chair near the window while John makes his. He sets his plate down on the table and walks over to the fridge for something to drink, and he cocks his eyebrow up when you look at him.

“I don’t know! That’s a lot of pressure.” you shrug, then you look down at your plate as you think, “I don’t want to go somewhere cold. It’ll be cold here soon, and I don’t want that.”

“So, somewhere warm.” he nods, then he takes a bite of his taco, giving you a thumbs up. “Got it.”

You sit back in your chair and smile, “Look, I’ll let you plan the entire thing. I only have one request: wherever we end up, if it is tropical, I want to be able to see the water like I could when we went to Italy. Wait, no, I have two requests. I also want to be able to wear a swimsuit most days.”

John cocks up his eyebrow and nods, “You in a swimsuit all day long? I want that too.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you shake your head and laugh, “John!”

“Swimsuit and clear water.” John nods, taking another bite of his taco, “Got it.”

__

John has been on his laptop all evening trying to find the perfect place for the two of you to honeymoon. He always goes a little overboard when it comes to researching stuff, but you’re flattered that he’s trying to pick the best place.

You’ve already changed into your pajamas and done your nightly routine of washing your face and brushing your teeth, and you even put a load of laundry in the washer, but John is still completely captivated by his honeymoon research.

Knocking on the door, you lean against the door frame and smile when John looks up from the laptop, “Still looking for a place for us?”

“Yeah, I think I found it.” he smiles, rubbing his hand over his beard, “Wanna see?”

You purse your lips as you look at the ceiling and think, “Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of want to be surprised.”

“You’re going to love it.” John nods, closing the laptop so he can hold you. He moves your hair away from your face when you sit down in his lap, and he smiles proudly, “I think I did a pretty good job. It’ll be warm, so you can wear a swimsuit, and the water is clear.”

“Have you been there before?”

John shakes his head, “Actually no, I haven’t been there.”

“Wow, so you did a really good job at finding a place.” you laugh, wrapping your arm around John’s neck, “When are we going?”

“Whenever you want.”

You tilt your head to the side as you think, and you begin to run your work schedule with your head. Obviously since you and John took over the shop, you don’t work as often, but you want to make sure there will be someone there every day other than Tess.

“Don’t worry about the shop. I already got that taken care of.” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “And Bleu can stay with Tess and Jimmy.”

Inhaling deeply, you look at John and smile, “Then let’s go as soon as we can.”

“Pack your bags then.” he smiles, leaning up to kiss you, “We can leave in the morning.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you laugh as you get up from his lap, then you gesture to your body, “Uh, I need some new clothes, Mr. Wick.”

__

You’re holding tight to Bleu’s leash as you walk into Tess’ house, and you call out for them when you see the living room is empty. A few moments later, you hear Tess calling out to you from the basement, and you reach down and let Bleu off his leash, laughing as he immediately runs to the backdoor to be let out in the yard with Sadie. John gives you a wink as he walks over to let him out, and you head downstairs to see Tess lounging out on the couch while Finn plays with some toys on the floor.

“Hey,” you plop down next to her and playfully pinch her arm as she shrieks dramatically. “Oh, calm down. Where’s Jimmy?”

“Outside.” she exhales as she sits up, then she smiles when Finn kicks his legs wildly, “Yeah, you miss your dada, huh?”

You look over your shoulder when you hear footsteps coming downstairs, and you reach out and hold Bleu back a little when he notices Finn on the floor -- he’s great with babies, but sometimes he gets too excited. Bleu finally calms down and lays next to Finn, sniffing him and whimpering for some attention.

“Well, at least he’s good with babies,” Jimmy laughs as he sits down next to Tess, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, “Sadie is good too, but like Bleu, she gets a bit excited. They’ll be best buds when Finn is older, I’m sure.”

Tess scoffs, “Yeah, they’ll get into shit and make a mess when we’re not looking, I’m sure of it.”

John smiles at Finn as he reaches down to pick him up, then he sits down next to you, “Man, look at those cheeks.”

“So cute and squishy!” you laugh, squeezing his cheeks, “Squish, squish, squish.”

Finn blows raspberries as drool falls down his chin, and John instinctively reaches down to wipe it off him as you watch them. He sits him up a little so he’s able to really look around, and Finn begins to kick his legs frantically as he coos and babbles loudly.

“Oh, almost 15 and a half pounds, by the way.” Tess says, then she grimaces, “He never misses a meal, clearly.”

John chuckles as he bounces Finn a little, “He’s getting so big, can’t believe it.”

Leaning against John’s shoulder, you smile as you reach over to rub your thumb over Finn’s cheek. You and John will be leaving soon to catch your flight to wherever the hell John is taking you, and you’re a little sad that you won’t see Finn for about a week -- of course you’ll miss Tess and Jimmy too.

“When is your flight?” Tess asks, and you sit up to look at her.

“Leaves in about an hour.” you sigh, then you look over at Finn again, “I’m gonna miss you all so much. Wish I could bring you all with me, but I know that’s not normal.”

Tess laughs loudly, shaking her head, “You’re gonna be doing quite a bit of baby-making, you do not want us there.”

“That’s true, I mean unless you want a cheering squad.” Jimmy jokes, then he furrows his brow when he realizes how bad that sounds. “Just…just ignore that joke.”

“We should probably head out.” John says, then he hands Finn over to you after he kisses his cheek.

Holding Finn tight in your arms, you try not to cry since you’re sure the week will fly by, but you’re gonna miss him. You press a kiss to his chunky little cheek, then you hold him as you stand up from the couch to hug Jimmy. You hand Finn over to Jimmy as you look at Tess, and you wrap your arms around her tight and hug her as you start to cry.

“I don’t know why I’m so emotional.” you laugh, wiping away the tears on your cheek, “I know it’s not that big of a deal, but I’m just gonna miss you all. Plus I have to fly again!”

John wraps his arms around your waist from behind and pulls you against his chest, “You’ll be fine, I’ll be right there the whole time.”

“You’re going to have so much fun. I know where you’re going, and you’re going to love it!” Tess says, cupping your face, “And you two are going to have sex on the beach!”

You laugh and shake your head, “No thanks. Too much sand.”

John shrugs as you look over your shoulder at him, “Might be fun.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you reach out to hug Tess again, then you lean down to give Bleu some hugs and kisses, “Be a good boy.”

John pats Bleu on his side and leaves a kiss on the top of his head before he stands up and reaches for your hand, “Don’t worry, I’ll have her text you the moment we land.”

“Thank you.” Tess smiles, then she waves at you as you walk to the stairs, “Have fun, you two.”

“Bye,” you wave at them, taking one last look.

__

You smile at John as you watch him whispering quietly with the pilot, and you cross your legs and open the book of word searches John bought for you. You click the top of your pen when you find a word, then you carefully circle it when John sits down next to you.

“Found a word,” he says, leaning over and pointing, “Tremendous.”

“Ooh, good one.” you quickly circle the word, then you look up at John, “Everything okay?”

John nods, reaching for your hand, “It is. I told him where we’re going, so we’ll be there shortly.”

“Shortly? Like how shortly?”

“Couple hours.”

You look at John, squinting your eyes jokingly to see if he’ll let it slip where you’re going, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“I’ll give you a few details about it,” he says, and you nod, turning to face him, “Okay, well, we’ll be at a house. Just us. It’s an island, but we’re not going to be the only ones there. It’s not like I rented out an entire island.”

“I didn’t think so.”

John jokingly puffs his chest up, “Unless you want me to…”

“Whatever,” you playfully nudge his side and laugh, “What else?”

“Oh, you’ll love this: an outdoor shower. It’s sort of connected to the bedroom through a glass wall.” he smiles, leaning closer to your face, “Might have to check that out when we get there.”

You smile wide as you lean forward to kiss him, “I can’t wait, I’m so excited.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

The little sign comes on to let you and John know that it’s time to get in your seat, and you feel your heart sink to your stomach. You hold your breath as you look over at John, and he gives you a reassuring smile. Your hands are shaking so bad that you can’t even get your belt buckled, but John gives you a sweet smile as he helps you.

You close your eyes and let out a breath shakily as you start to cry, “I’m so weak. I can’t even get on a plane without having a panic attack. I’m so fucking weak.”

“You’re not, mouse. Not at all. The fact that you’re still willing to fly even though you don’t like to fly just shows how strong you really are.” he says, and you open your eyes to look at him, but you squeeze them shut when you feel the plane beginning to move. “Just breathe, baby. In and out. In…and out.”

You follow along with John as he coaches you, and you squeeze his hand a little tighter when the plane picks up speed. You know that you probably look like an idiot right now, but you don’t even care. This is absolutely terrifying to you.

“Good job, baby.” John leans over and kisses your cheek, then he chuckles, “Baby, open your eyes.”

You peek one eye open and look over to see the clouds passing by your window, so you open both eyes and look over at John, who is beaming with pride. John unbuckles himself to move closer to you, then he carefully unbuckles your belt before opening the shades more on the window.

“Look.” John smiles, tugging your fingers, “New York City.”

Gasping a little, you lean over even more so you can look down at all the lights, and you smile when you look at John, “Thank you.”

“See? You’re so strong.” he whispers as he leans over to kiss your cheek again. “So strong.”

__

There’s a nice black car waiting for you and John once you land, and he opens your door and gestures for you to get in while he packs the bags into the trunk. Looking around, you don’t see much since you’re still on a tarmac, but the skies are beyond blue and gorgeous.

“Ready?” John asks, and you nod your head as you try to contain your excitement. “It’s not far from here, but when we get closer, I want you to put a blindfold on.”

You laugh as John starts the car, “Are you taking your wife on a honeymoon or are you kidnapping her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teases, and you shake your head as you laugh.

Looking out the window, you feel John reaching over to intertwine his fingers with yours, and you gasp a little when you see several boats out on the water. You’ve never been to such a beautiful place before, and it’s almost causing you to tear up. You still have no idea where you are, but wherever John has brought is beautiful.

“What are you thinking?”

You look over at John and smile, “It’s beautiful, and it’s so warm here. I love it already. Did you bring swim trunks?”

“Damn!” John tilts his head back and closes his eyes for a second, “Totally forgot.”

“Then you’ll have to swim without them, that’s fine with me.”

John chuckles as he looks over at you, “Yes, I brought swim trunks.”

You lean over to kiss John’s cheek as he drives down the road, then you sit back in your seat as you vibrate with excitement. John reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a blindfold, handing it over to you as you laugh. Playfully rolling your eyes, you take the blindfold from John and put it over your eyes, then you sit back in your seat and jokingly snore loudly.

“Trust me, you won’t be sleeping much this week.” John says, and you pull up the blindfold to look at John, “Yes, I meant it that way too. Put your blindfold back down.”

You groan as you put the blindfold over your eyes, and you sit back as John continues to drive for a few more minutes. He finally stops the car and pats your leg, telling you to wait so he can help you out.

“Okay,” John reaches down for your hand and pulls you out of the car, “Come on, baby.”

You stand in front of John as he leads you to the house, and you hear him laugh a little. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re going to love this place and I can’t wait to see your reaction.” he says, letting go of you to open the front door, “Okay, just take a few more steps and I’ll let you take your blindfold off.”

John steps back from you and lets out a small laugh, and you carefully start to pull the blindfold from off your eyes, squinting them as they adjust to the bright light. You blink several times as you look around the house, and a smile spreads across your face as you take in the view.

The lounge area isn’t anything special, just a couch, love seat and chair, but it has an amazing view of the ocean right out the window. The kitchen is just to the left of where you’re standing, and the counters are a beautiful dark gray granite. There’s a small bowl of green apples on it, and you reach over and toss one to John.

“Wanna see the rest?” he asks, then he takes a bite of the apple, “It’s just the bedroom. Pretty small and cozy place.”

You smile as you reach out for John’s hand, and he leads you down the hallway to the bedroom. There’s a king size bed in the room with comfy looking blankets, but the view from your window takes your breath away.

“Holy shit!” you gasp loudly, letting go of John’s hand to open the patio door. “Look at this view!”

From the bed, you can see the private pool and patio, but just a little further out is a beautiful ocean that you can’t wait to go to. You finally notice the private outside shower that is attached to bedroom, and you look over your shoulder and smirk at John.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you stand in front of him and place your hands on his shoulders, “I can’t wait to break this bed in later.”

John laughs as he offers you a bite of his apple, then he lays back on the bed when you take it, “Yeah, we gotta use that shower too.”

“Oh, definitely.” you crawl on the bed and straddle John’s waist, then you lean down to kiss him, tasting the sweet sugar on his tongue. “I think we should get some dinner, grab a bottle of wine, then head down to the beach to watch the sunset. What do you say?”

“I say that sounds like a good idea.” he whispers against your lips as he carefully takes the apple from your hand. He tosses it to the ground, then he rolls on top of you as you laugh loudly. “Let’s break this bed in first.”

__

You’re not a big drinker, but since you’re on vacation, you figure a few drinks won’t hurt. John isn’t a drinker either, which is making it all the more hilarious that he’s actually a little bit tipsy. He still never loses his footing, but his words are getting a little slurred and his cheeks have a slight red tint to them.

The sun is just dipping beyond the horizon as you and John sit on the beach, and you lean against his shoulder as he drinks wine straight from the bottle.

“I dare you…to get in the ocean.” you say, and John nods. “Naked.”

“Naked?” he asks, and you smile cheekily as you nod. “Fine.”

John stands up and start to unbuckle his belt, and you bite your lip as you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He gets his pants and shirt off, then he looks at you and gestures for you to do the same.

“Oh, no,” you shake your head, “People could see us.”

“Nice try.” he laughs, pulling you up by your hands, “There isn’t another person around for miles.”

You jokingly groan as you look at John, and your lips turn up into a grin when John begins to pull your shirt over your head. You pull down your shorts and bite your lip when John pulls you closer to kiss you, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside.

“Think you’ll be okay? You know, with the fish…” he asks, and you furrow your brow when he puts on a weird voice.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine.” you hold John’s hand and stifle a laugh as you walk with him to the water, “Sorry, I’m not trying to laugh. You’re just…you’re getting drunk, and it’s hilarious.”

John chuckles, “I do feel pretty good.”

Holding tight to John’s hand, you step into the water and cling to him as the two of you walk a little further out. You finally get a little too far out, and John instinctively reaches down to pick you up. Now face to face with John, you smile as you lean forward to kiss him.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you again.

You tilt your head to the side and laugh, “When did we meet?”

“September 5th -- best day of my life.” he smiles, then he shakes his head, “I’m not…drunk, peach.”

“I’m just making sure.” you say, then you look at him, “Quick! What name did we choose for our firstborn?”

John laughs as he looks at you, “Well, obviously it’s Bobby.”

You hop off of John and swim away from him, “You’re so funny, Jonathan.”

“Ronan,” he says, and you turn around to look at him, “It’s Ronan.”

John pulls you back into his arms as you smile at him, and you hug him tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck as the two of you wade in the water. Inhaling deeply, you lean back and smile at John before you stretch up to kiss him several times.

“I can’t believe how beautiful it is here.” you say, looking out at the sunset and crystal blue water. “It’s like something from a movie that you don’t think is real, you know?”

John nods when you look back at him, “I know what you mean.”

“Okay, Mr. Wick, so when you’re drunk, you get very handsy,” you laugh, feeling John’s hands on your ass, and he chuckles. “And very giggly. I like it.”

“I like you.”

You wrap your left arm around John’s neck and hop up to wrap your legs around his waist, “And you get very sweet. Not that you aren’t already. Can’t believe how lucky I am to be married to my very best friend.”

John closes his eyes as you lean your forehead against his, and he hugs you so tight that you think he might break a rib. He exhales as he leans back to look at you, then he smiles smugly when you widen your eyes, feeling his cock brush against your inner thigh. You suck on your bottom lip as you hold his gaze, reaching between the two of you as he slowly slides in deep between your legs.

“This is probably not very hygienic, huh?”

John laughs as he shakes his head, “Only you would think about this stuff.”

“Well,” you close your eyes and hum when John jerks his hips a little, “Fuck…”

Slipping from between your legs, John smirks as he swims away from you, and you gasp as he shrugs.

“Oh, you tease!” you say, splashing him with water, “You’re such an ass! Remind me why I married you again?”

John pulls you back to him as he crashes his lips to yours, then he lifts into his arms bridal style as he carries you back to shore. Once he gets close to the beach, he carefully lays you down on the blanket and crawls on top of you as the two of you share an intense and passionate kiss.

“You married me because no one can do this,” he whispers, kissing down your stomach to your thighs, then back up to your breast.

“I’ve been kissed before.” you say, cocking up your eyebrow.

John lets out a small laugh as he holds your gaze, slowly moving between your legs again, and he raises his eyebrow as he slowly rubs to tip of his cock over your clit. He smiles as you close your eyes and whimper for him, then he pecks you quickly.

“You married me for this, didn’t you?” he asks, teasing you with his cock. He smiles as he leans down and whispers in your ear, “I know you didn’t just marry me for that, but play along.”

Maybe you two should get drunk more often, he’s pretty damn cute.

You laugh as you open your eyes to look at him, “It’s exactly why I married you. Never been fucked like this before.”

John’s eyes light up when he realizes that you’re going to play along with him, then he sucks on your nipple before he looks down to watch himself sliding between your legs. He rolls his hips slowly and looks up at you as you close your eyes and relax back on the blanket.

“You like that?” he asks, and you nod your head as you caress your breasts. “There’s no one around for miles that will hear you scream.”

You open your eyes to look at John, then you laugh, “I know you meant that in a sexy way, but it’s leaning toward the murder-y side, I won’t lie.”

John laughs as he leans down to kiss you, then he jerks his hips hard, causing you to gasp, “Definitely didn’t mean it that way.”

“Yeah,” you moan quietly as you wrap your legs around John’s waist. You pull him down more to feel him rub against your clit with every thrust, then you moan softly as you tilt your head back, “Fuck, keep doing that. Keep talking to me.”

John leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone, then he sucks lightly on your skin before he looks deep in your eyes, pounding into you, “You feel so fucking good. This is heaven. This is my own personal heaven right here. I love how you look under me, taking me like this.”

You smile as you open your eyes to look at John, “I think I look better when I’m on top of you.”

“Well, then get on top of me,” John smiles, then he pecks your cheek as he moves to lay down. He holds tight to your hips as he watches you taking your time sliding down his cock, then he closes his eyes and lets out a throaty moan. “Fuck!”

“Just lay back and let me take care of you, baby.” you whisper into his ear as you rest your hands on his chest. Slowly rolling your hips, you watch as John furrows his brow and clenches his jaw, and you lean down to kiss him as he grips your ass in his hands to spread you open further. “You like when I ride you, don’t you? You like the way my wet pussy feels on your big cock, huh?”

Kissing John, you taste the wine on his lips, which causes you to sit up a little and take a drink of it. You smile down at John as you hold the bottle in your hand, and he sits up to take a drink of it before he leans up to kiss you, moaning into your mouth as you rotate your hips.

“Fuck, you are so sexy.” he whispers, leaving soft kisses all over your chest.

“You make me feel sexy,” you wrap your arms around his neck and smile at him, “I love you so much, John.”

John wraps his arms around you and guides you on his cock as he begins to pant loudly against your chest. He carefully lays you back on the towel and pats your side, gesturing for you to lay on your stomach, and you tilt your head back and smile as he slides back into your pussy.

“Shit,” he pants against the top of your head as he thrusts his hips hard and fast, and he wraps his hand around your throat lightly to tilt your head back again, “Shit, I--”

Spreading your legs open more, you moan loudly as John reaches between the two of you and rubs circles on your clit, and you grip the blanket in your hand as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan.

“You’re about to come,” John whispers in your ear, “You always grab the sheets when you’re about to come, so do it. Come for me.”

Moaning loudly, you sit up a little as John grips your hips and thrusts deep inside of you, then you shudder as you start to climax. John leans over your back as he continues to thrust his hips, and he kisses along your spine up to your shoulder, listening to you letting out a string of moans.

“Fuck,” he pants loudly, then he pats your side so you’ll roll over again. He smiles when you’re face to face with him then he immediately leans down and begins pumping his hips faster as you hold his gaze. “You’re such a fucking dream.”

“Kiss me,” you whisper as John leans down to kiss you, and he groans into your mouth as he grips your breast in his right hand. “Mm, you’re so good at this, John.”

John smiles as he looks at you, then he nods as he pants, “Yeah?”

“Thank you for always fucking me so well.” you say, and you smile when you see John beam with pride -- there’s nothing more that he loves than to hear how good he makes you feel. “Always taking such good care of me. Always giving me exactly what I want.”

Reaching down between the two of you, you massage John’s balls in your hand, and he lets out a groan as he squeezes his eyes shut. You place your hand on the back of John’s head and pull him down to rest against your chest, and he begins to breathe even harder.

“You feel so good inside of me.” you whisper as he looks up at you, “I never want this to end.”

John smiles as he leans down to kiss you, then he lets out a small laugh, “Well, I’m sorry to ruin that; I’m about to come.”

Smiling sweetly, you lean up to kiss John, then you cup his face to keep his lips on yours as he groans and pumps his hips. He lets out one loud moan as his hips shudder, then he thrusts them every few seconds as he spills inside of you, clinging desperately to you. He gives you one last hard thrust that knocks the wind out of you, then he nearly collapses against your chest as he tries to catch his breath.

“Oh, shit…” John says quietly as he moves off of you to lay back on the blanket, then he looks up at you, “Fuck…”

Rolling onto your side, you lean against his chest and smile, “Was it good?”

“Yes,” he says, still trying to catch his breath, “It always is. Was it for you?”

“Yeah,” you nod as you smile, then you shrug, “I am a little worried about sand in my vagina, but you know, whatever.”

John laughs as he leans over to kiss you, “Don’t worry, I made sure there was no sand on the blanket before I put you down.”

You sit up to dust the sand off your knees, then you walk back into the water while John lays on the blanket for a moment. You hold your breath as you duck under the water to get your hair wet, then you come back up for air as you push your hair out of your face. Closing your eyes, you feel John’s arms as he wraps them around you, and you lean back against his chest.

“So beautiful out here.” he whispers against your cheek as he kisses you, “How fun would it be if you and I moved here? Just us on the beach every day.”

You inhale deeply as you turn around and look at John, “It would be fun until I started crying every day because I miss my sister.”

“Well she’d come too!” he laughs, holding tight to you, “Jimmy, Tess, and Finn. We could raise our baby here.”

You jokingly scoff as you look at John, “You and I both know that we love Mill Neck, and we’re not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, true.”

Leaning your head against John’s chest, you watch as the sun continues to dip beyond the horizon, then you look up at John and laugh, “Where are we even at? I haven’t even asked because I’ve been so blown away by this place.”

John looks down at you and smiles, “Turks and Caicos.”

“Well, I love it here.” you turn around and lean back against John’s chest as you smile, taking in the beautiful sunset while in John’s warm embrace.

__

Sitting up straight in bed, you put your hand over your mouth, then you run into the bathroom and fall to the floor in front of the toilet, dry heaving several times before you squeeze your eyes shut and vomit. You breathe heavily as you wait a few more minutes next to the toilet, then you get up and cup your hand over the faucet for some water to rinse your mouth out.

John’s hand on your back causes you to jump a little, and you look up at him through the mirror as you try to catch your breath. You look at yourself in the mirror and let out a laugh when you see your clammy skin and bloodshot eyes.

“I never should have taken that shot of tequila last night.”

John grimaces, “You had…you had 5 shots, peach. I was…shocked.”

“It’s our honeymoon.” you laugh weakly as John helps you back to the bed. You groan as you move any part of your body, and you squeeze your eyes shut when the sun shines through the window, “Everything sucks!”

“You’re just hungover, baby.” John whispers, tucking you back into bed.

You frown as you look up at him, “I’ve ruined our honeymoon.”

“No, you didn’t. You’ll be sick for one day, then you’ll be better. You didn’t ruin it.” John moves your hair away from your face and leans down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll get you some crackers and water.”

“You drank too, why aren’t you sick?”

John puffs his chest up a little and laughs, “Because I can handle my alcohol better than you.”

You laugh softly as you look up at John, and you watch as he swallows hard and nods his head. He clears his throat a little and shifts on the bed, trying to play it off, but he needs to throw up. You furrow your brow and reach up to rub your finger against his cheek.

“Just go.” you whisper, and you let out a laugh when John quickly gets up to use the bathroom. You squeeze your eyes shut and laugh when you hear John in the bathroom, and he comes out a few minutes later and leans against the door frame, completely exhausted. Moving over on the bed, you pat the spot next to you and smile, “Come on, baby.”

John grabs the bathroom garbage and sets it down next to the bed before he crawls in and lays down next to you, “Well, this is interesting.”

Chuckling quietly, you reach up and move John’s hair away from his face, then you rub your fingers against his chest to coax him to sleep. Who would have ever thought that day two of your honeymoon would consist of you and John in bed with hangovers?

“You know…” John wraps his arm around you to pull you closer, “Even though we’re both going to feel like shit all day, there isn’t anyone else I would want to feel like shit all day with. I’m glad it’s you.”

You smile as you look up at John, then you lean up a little to kiss him, “Kissing you just now, that was a little gross, I won’t lie.”

John lets out a small laugh and nods his head, “Well, at least we got this view.”

Leaning up a little, you look out at the peaceful ocean and nod your head, “Maybe if we feel a little better later, we can go down there and just relax on the beach. Sounds good, huh?”

As soon as you look over at John, a smile spreads across your face as he quietly snores next to you. You leave a small kiss on John’s cheek before you snuggle down next to him and close your eyes. John is right: even though you both feel like shit, there isn’t anyone else you’d want to feel like shit with.

__

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[nicb0723]

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Word Count: 7,252    Total word count: 58,284

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Read Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4

Read Chapter 5

Chapter 6

** 

The next morning John insists on taking you back to your apartment to get some more things and to make sure no traces of Max were around. 

Going back to your apartment makes you feel uneasy, but you know if more time passes it’ll just make it harder. 

Francis stops to talk to John and they flip back and forth between Russian and English, and it makes your heart skip a beat hearing John fluent and speaking effortlessly to try and figure out your door situation. 

“He said someone will be here on Monday.” John tells you in the elevator. “He couldn’t find anyone to fix it over the weekend.” 

“I have to stay with you the whole weekend?” It doesn’t come out like you meant it to, you just don’t want to impose, but John crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head, waiting for you to explain. “I mean… I get to stay with you the whole weekend?”

There’s caution tape hanging over your door and John takes it down so you can go inside. “Let me guess, you feel like you’re being a burden, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You admit softly. “This is so hard.”

John takes your hand and goes to sit on the bed while you stand between his legs. He looks up until you meet his eyes. “You do realize that I like helping you. And that I like having you at my place. That you could move in with me right now and I’d be the happiest I’ve been in a long time. You staying with me is not a burden. You are not a burden. Do you understand?”

You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand. “Okay.” 

“Okay? Or yes, you understand?”

“John, I’m trying.” You pull away and rub at your temples, that familiar pain of a headache starting to pulse. You can see an image of Max at your kitchen table and it gives you the creeps. John’s suit jacket is still on the floor so you pick up, shaking it out. You don’t give it back though and instead, drape it over the chair. The least you can do is have it dry cleaned later, but John doesn’t need to know that. 

He watches as you gather some more clothes, pajamas and your makeup and hair dryer from the bathroom. You start to grab the shampoo and soap, but remember that John already has that for you. God, could he be any sweeter? Everything is tossed on the bed and you go back to him, leaning down for a hug. “If I was a burden, would you tell me? I feel like you wouldn’t tell me.”

He hugs you back hard and moves so you can sit besides him. “Do you think I’d be here right now if I felt that way? We’re best friends, remember?”

You give him a doubtful look and a shrug. “I don’t know, you’re a nice guy. Nice guys do nice things.”

“Trust me, I’m not that nice.”

With the way he’s looking at you right now, his gaze hard and his jaw clenched, you don’t dare question him. Your eyes fall to his lips and they look so soft compared to his sharp features. The need to taste him is suddenly overwhelming. Both of you are starting to lean in when his phone rings from his pocket. You get up quickly to get a bag for all of your things, pretending to be busy while he takes the call. 

That didn’t just happen, so just forget about it. You seriously need to get it together and not kiss a guy only two days after being tossed around like a ragdoll. There’s something just not right about it and you don’t want John to fill a void that you need to heal yourself. 

Is he speaking Italian now? God. 

You dab some concealer under your eye as you wait and since you have time, put on some mascara and lip gloss. You’re able to toss your hair and it’s a relief that your head finally feels better. You strip off the work polo you had to wear this morning and walk back into your bedroom to find something else. John’s seen you practically naked so you don’t think much of it, but when you turn around after pulling on a thin sweater over a tank top, he’s staring at you.

“What?” 

He puts his phone back in his pocket and leans against the wall, still looking at you but not saying anything.

“What?” You ask again. “You walk around in your boxers all the time, what’s the difference?”

“A bra and boxers are very different.”

You smirk. “Are you complaining?”

“No.”

That’s what you thought. “Can we go? I have to get my car from your place and get to the city before lunch time.”

John walks into the kitchen and looks around, satisfied that nothing seems too out of place. There’s no blood or anything by the table, John’s shirt catching most of it but your broken cell phone is still on the floor under the counter. He picks it up and tosses it in the garbage. The door frame is in a few different pieces and you thought that you heard Francis mention something about getting you new locks. 

“I’ll drop you off.”

You’re in your own thoughts when John speaks. “Hmm?”

“I have to go into the city too. I’ll drop you off at Carla’s and when you’re done, text me and I’ll pick you up.”

“Are you sure?” His offer is generous. You hate driving into the city by yourself and dealing with traffic. 

He nods and leads you out the door, replacing the caution tape. “Yeah, I have to take care of a few things.” His voice is low, and it sounds like it has something to do with work so you try to lighten the mood. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come dress shopping with us?” You ask, swinging your bag over your shoulder. You would kill to see John in a dress shop. 

“I’ll leave that to you girls.”

“Bummer, you would’ve been very popular, I assure you.”

“Do you know the name of the store?” He asks and you check your phone. Carla just text the address of what gas station she’s working at today and told you she’ll drive from there. 

“No, but Carla wants me to meet her on Fifth and Broad street.” You’re not paying attention and texting her back, so John guides you to the car and you both get in after he puts your stuff in the trunk. 

The traffic isn’t too heavy and you’re done letting Carla know you’ll be there soon, so you turn towards John and get comfortable. 

“No fancy suit today, even for business?”

He shifts and grips the steering wheel harder. “I have a safe deposit box where I keep a spare suit if I need it.” 

“Will you need it?”

“Not sure yet.”

He’s being oddly quiet and you wonder if it has something to do with the phone call earlier. “Were you speaking Italian?”

“Si.” He nods, eyes still on the road. 

Anxiety is starting to build and you know that a ramble is about to start any minute. Or you’re going to start asking more questions and that’s just annoying. Usually by now he would have tried to hold your hand or rest his palm on your knee, but he’s focused and you’re not sure what to do. You don’t want to pull out your phone and ignore him either, but something tells you to be mindful and silence is okay. 

At a red light John shifts again and lets a hand fall to his lap. You stare at it, wondering if you’re allowed to reach for him. You can’t decide and the whole time you’re debating in your head, John continues to drive totally oblivious.

Before you know it, he’s turning into the gas station and pulling up next to Carla’s car. He turns off the engine and gets out before you can say anything, walking around to open your door. You get your purse and lean against the car, looking up at him. 

“We should just be a few hours. I can find something to do if you need more time.”

“Okay.” The way he’s looking at you is intense and you’re still not sure what to do. 

“I’ll see you later? Thanks for driving me.” You grab his hand and squeeze it, reassuringly if not for him, but for yourself. 

“I’ll walk you in.” 

“You’ll… huh?”

“Carla, I want to meet her.”

“Oh?” All you can do is blink and process how you’re going to get out of this when you hear Carla yell out your name and start to jog over, the sound of her heels echoing under the high roof of the gas station. 

John smiles widely and presses a hand to your back, sliding it slowly around your waist. 

“Hey, Carla! How are you?”

“I’m good, sweetie! Ready to take you out on the town!” She gets a little flustered when she comes closer to John. “And who is this handsome fella? Is this the guy Sam was telling me about who always brings you coffee?”

Coughing, you try to clear your throat. Dammit Sam and his big fat mouth. 

“Uh yeah, this is John. John, this is Carla.” 

They shake hands and you know Carla is swooning on the inside. 

“Nice to meet you.” John says, his voice deeper than usual, his arm pulling you closer to his body. “I understand you’re going shopping?” 

“Yes!” Carla finally takes back her hand and holds it to her heart, like a princess in a disney movie. She snaps with it and fusses with her purse, trying to get her keys out. “I’m taking her to this real sweet shop called Marty’s… it’s on second? Anyway, there’s this great little coffee place I know she’ll love right around the block from there.” She winks at you, knowing your passion for coffee. “Are you ready to go, hon?”

You feel John let go of your waist only to grab hold of your hand. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

She nods and runs towards her car, pulling out her phone to check for messages. 

John is staring at you again and now you can’t stand it. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing.” He pulls out his wallet and hands you a credit card. “I want you to use this.”

You’re so confused. “For what?”

“For the dress. You shouldn’t have to pay for that.”

“Oh please. Are you serious right now?”

“See, I knew you’d do this.”

You glare at him. “I have my own money.”

He takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t take this credit card I will call the store and give them my information over the phone, and I know that’ll embarrass you.”

This is actually starting to piss you off. “John Wick, are you threatening me right now?”

“No…”

He is no match for a woman scorned and if looks could kill, he’d be dead. “Fine. I’ll take it.” You snatch it out of his hand and put it in your purse. You have no intention of using it and he realizes his mistake when you start to walk away. 

“I’m calling the store.” He says loudly and you rush back to him. 

“I swear John, we are going to have a talk about this when I get back.”

He smiles, knowing he won. “I look forward to it.”

**

Carla asks you a million questions when you get in the car. 

Is he your boyfriend? He’s so handsome! 

Do you live together?

Why isn’t he your boyfriend? He obviously likes you.

Does he have a single brother?

What does he do for work?

You avoid and deflect but your skills that usually work on John reflect off of Carla like bullets on Superman’s chest. You answer her questions the best you can and hope she doesn’t get too nosy. The dress shop is finally coming into view and you sigh some relief when she gets distracted by all the pretty clothes. 

Carla’s style is definitely different than yours, but that’s one of the reasons you wanted her advice. Everything she picks out you would have never considered, but she seems to know fashion because almost all the pieces look really good on you. She makes you twirl in a silver blue dress, with the skirt going down to your knees and a cute neckline that she says accentuates your collarbone. There are also shoes (flat) and a purse and a new bra and it’s all a little overwhelming, and once you go to the checkout counter, you’re a little sweaty. 

You wander over to the men’s section when Carla decides to try on a blouse for herself and a pair of cufflinks catches your eye. There is a pair of small, square ones that are black with a silver edge that you really like and add the little box to your pile. 

Between both you and Carla, there’re a ton of shopping bags and walking down the street to the coffee house is a funny sight. It’s worth it when you step inside and smell the rich flavors, your mouth watering at the freshly baked bread, cookies and sweets.

Carla insists on treating you, a thank you for all of your hard work, and you both settle down into a booth. You ask about her daughter, Erin, and she tells you that her first year of college has been difficult and she hopes the second year will be better. 

“Why was it difficult?” You ask. “Did she have hard classes?”

“No, she’s deaf and it’s been a hard transition for her. Plus she’s working part time at the gas station in the city, so she has to juggle both. She’s there today for the closing shift, you’ll have to meet her when we get back.”

You tell Carla that you’d love to and that you hope she has a better year. “That must be really hard, I had no idea she was deaf.”

“Yes, it caused quite the strain on my marriage but my ex was a deadbeat anyway. Erin is amazing. She can read lips and she’s studying to be a teacher.”

“Good for her!” You ask more questions about college and let Carla know you’re thinking about taking classes too, but it won’t interfere with work. 

“You’ll be a lot busier, that’s for sure.” She says. “But it’s very rewarding. I’m glad to hear it.”

After some gossip about Sam and the girl from the Thai place, who he finally asked out, Carla needs to head back and you thank her again for such a lovely time. You text John to let him know you’re leaving the restaurant and stop to buy some cookies on the way out for after dinner tonight. 

“Does John have a sweet tooth?” Carla asks and you nod. “He would never admit it though.”

**

He’s leaning on the car when Carla pulls in and you swear she whispers damn under her breath. You’re pleased to see that John didn’t have to change clothes and is wearing the same jeans and black shirt you left him in.  His smile is wide when he greets you and he helps with all of your bags. Carla runs to get Erin so you can meet her while you’re still packing the car. 

“Looks like you made out well.” He closes the now full trunk and turns to you, grabbing at your hand. 

“I did. Carla wants me to meet her daughter, it should take only a minute. How’d you make out?” You scan John’s body for any sign that he’s hurt and you spot bruised, cut up knuckles. “What’s this?”

“Nothing, just a scratch.” 

You give John one of your looks and hand him back his credit card before you forget. 

“I saw you made a purchase, thank you for using it.” He must’ve been checking his account on his phone all this time. 

“Checking up on me now, too?”

“Not checking.” He says slowly. “Just... hoping.”

You smile and reach to stroke his hair back. “Well, I split the bill, genius. Compromise?”

He catches your arm and kisses the inside of your wrist. “I missed you.”

“We were away from each other for like, three hours. Don’t get attached.”

“I can’t help it.” 

You hear Carla coming closer and dragging her daughter behind her, who looks shy. You wave and smile, tucking yourself next to John’s body. You missed him too.

“Erin, this is John.” Carla introduces him as she signs and your eyes light up when John starts signing as well. 

“Nice to meet you.” He speaks and his hands move at the same time. Carla gapes at you and all you can do is blankly look at her. You had no idea.

The three of them have a conversation in sign language and try to include you, but they’re all excited and you’re still too stunned to pay attention anyway. From what you can tell, they’re talking about Erin’s school and John points to you. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said that you’re starting to take classes in the fall too.” John explains. “You guys can be study buddies.”

You laugh and Erin does too. She’s at least ten years younger than you but you think that she had to grow up fast, not unlike yourself. A man drives up and she has to get back inside to help a customer so she waves goodbye. Carla gives you a quick hug and she tells you that she’ll stop by next week on her usual day. John nods and smiles at her, and she runs off inside too. 

“Ready to go?”

You sigh as he opens the door for you. “Really, John? Sign language too?”

He rounds the car and shrugs his shoulders. “I must’ve picked it up somewhere.” He gets behind the wheel and makes sure your seatbelt is on before he starts the car. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes, it was really nice to have some girl time.”

“Girl time, huh?”

“Yep.”

John frowns, keeping his eyes on the road. It’s busier now with rush hour traffic. “What’s a guy gotta do to get in on some of that time?”

You laugh and reach over to twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. “I could put barrettes in your hair and give you a mud mask when we get to your house.”

“Sounds exhilarating.” He seems less than enthused and you snicker at the thought. 

His knuckles look painful and you don’t want to touch them, but at the same time you want to comfort him too. 

“What happened to your hands?”

John side eyes you and stays silent. 

“Okay, fine. Anything else hurt?”

“No.”

You try not to say anything, but eventually it comes out. “How is it fair that I tell you almost everything and you don’t have to tell me anything?” 

“I tell you stuff.”

“Mmhm.” You cross your arms over your chest and scoot towards the door. 

“Fine, I paid Max a visit in jail.”

Your mouth drops open and now you wished you hadn’t asked. You wait for him to finish, but that’s all the information he gives you.

“And?”

“And what?”

You stare at John and then rub your temples. You should have known he wasn’t finished with Max.

“Oh, I didn’t kill him.” John says, “But I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore.”

“Perfect.” You sit back in the seat and close your eyes. “You can’t just go around beating people up.”

“Apparently I can.” He says it so nonchalantly that you turn to stare at him again.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

You fiddle with your purse strap. “Well, thank you for telling me. I think.”

“You’re welcome.” He stops at a red light and gives those wide, pitiful eyes. “Are you mad?”

You scoot closer to him again. “I’m mad at the situation, I’m not mad at you.”

“I care about you, you know that right?”

Smiling, you reach over and touch his hand gently, below a blottled cut. “That’s becoming very clear.”

**

The weekend is over before you know it. You had to work both days, but John made dinner and even cracked open a bottle of wine on Sunday night. After eating you both took Pooch out for a walk around the block, platonically holding hands because “that’s the rule.”  Every night you slept by his side and he never made a move other than what he’s done before. He’s very respectful and considerate, making sure your comfort is his top priority. 

On Monday morning you find a rose on your windshield when you get ready to drive to work. You have all of your bags because the door to your apartment will be fixed by this afternoon and you’ll have to go home. You throw them in the backseat, smiling to yourself. When John didn’t want to walk you out, you thought it was odd but not enough to make you question him. The rose is a deep red and there’s no note, but you keep glancing at it as you drive. No one has ever given you a flower before.

You can’t help texting John at a red light. Did you leave something on my car?

I did.

Thank you but why?

It takes a few seconds for him to respond and you read his answer at the next light. 

Just a reminder that not all of us are like Max.

You would never compare John to Max and even if you did, they’re complete opposites. Sometimes you’re still in awe that John has come into your life, how different it is now. How a few months ago you were living in a hazy world where you didn’t belong. And now it’s so different. Not perfect by any means, but different. Any changes from that life is better and you just hope it stays like this. A part of you feels that any minute something could happen and you’d be right back where you started. It’s a scary thought. 

After work you have therapy and you talk a lot about not living in fear. How the fear doesn’t serve you and Beth gives you some more methods to safeguard what you have now, so you’ll never go back to that dark place. You talk more about Max and that you're proud of how you handled it. You wish the situation didn’t paralyze you so deeply, but Beth reassures you that something traumatic like that has to take its course. 

The wedding comes up and you tell Beth about John holding your hand, what it would mean if you were to kiss him, and all the constant flirting, but never crossing that line. She suggests that you talk to John about whatever it is you’re thinking and that you’re allowed to ask him questions, he’s not a mind reader and neither are you. She explains that communication is important and that it’s good there hasn’t been any physical contact yet. That if it does happen, it’ll mean so much more and the connection will be stronger having waited so long. 

Going back home after such a long day and having no one there really sucks. Sleeping alone sucks. The red rose you put in a vase on the kitchen table helps, but all you can think about is John and that worries you. The last thing you want to happen is to become obsessed with him, always checking your phone to see if he’s called, daydreaming about the next time you’ll see each other. The wedding is this weekend and your nerves are surging uncontrollably. However, you’re not thinking about Max and you consider that a win. 

The only thing that keeps you somewhat calm is work so you do your best to concentrate while you’re there throughout the week. 

John texts you every morning, in the middle of the day and always at night. He asks how your day is and you don’t know what to tell him because it’s incredibly boring. By Wednesday he calls when he knows you have the night off and he wants to see you, making up any excuse to get his way. 

“Pooch really misses you.”

“Is that so?” You smile and put the phone on speaker so you can clean around your bedroom. The dress you bought is hanging in your closet and you can’t wait to wear it. “How can you tell?”

“He told me.”

“Ohh, right, sure he did. And what did he say?”

You can tell John is doing the dishes because there are sounds of clanging pots and pans in the background. “He asked me why the pretty lady had to leave.”

“You’ve had another lady stay at your house? I didn’t know you were such a manwhore, John.”

“Very funny.” He tells you dryly. “You should come over tonight. I’ll make dinner and we can watch a movie or something.”

“I would love that.” You actually would like to see him and think it might be impossible to wait until this weekend. “But I’m going out.”

There’s a beat of silence and John clears his throat. “Oh.”

“Mmhm. I have a very important meeting at the laundromat tonight.”

“Ohh.” John says more easily. “Well just bring your laundry over here. We can eat and hang out while it’s in the wash.”

You’ve never considered that and look at the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, which will probably take at least a few hours to get done. You’d much rather be at John’s house than sitting in a plastic chair.

“Are you sure that’d be okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I have everything you need. I’ll see you soon?”

Well, John got his way again but you’re happy about it and gather all of your things quickly. You stuff your dirty clothes into your laundry bag, grab your purse and the bag from Target that’s been sitting by your front door for a few days now. You might’ve bought Pooch a bone while you were out shopping for new clothes. 

You stop and look in the mirror before you head out. After work you had gotten comfortable in some loose grey sweatpants and a white tank top. You’re still wearing your black bra though so you grab a light sweater and flip flops. Not the classiest but good enough. 

The drive over is fast and you don’t bother knocking because he left the door open. You haul in your laundry bag and you can tell John is cooking fish tonight. 

“Smells good.” You tell him, dropping your bag to the floor when you see him in the kitchen.

He smiles at the sight of you, wiping his hands off on a towel before he walks over. 

“Hi.” 

His hugs are becoming addictive and he’s still so careful, his large hands caressing your lower back. You lean into him and savor the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, his solid chest against your cheek. 

He pulls back and touches your fingers as he goes back to the sink. “Are you hungry? It’ll be a little while before it’s ready.”

“That’s fine, I had to eat Thai again today.” You tell him about Sam and his new girlfriend, who is incredibly sweet and how cute they are when she brings him lunch. “He’s allergic to peanuts so he gives his food to me all the time. I told him to just tell her but now it’s become this big thing.”

“Uh oh.” John laughs. “Sounds like drama.”

“Exactly. To be seventeen again and have a peanut allergy be my only problem.”

That’s not entirely true. Sam has his family issues too that he’s confided in you, but it’s mostly about his big brother picking on him so you can’t really relate. 

John sets some carrots and celery out with a dip to snack on. “Is he still going to work when school starts?”

“Yeah,” You get yourself a glass of water before sitting down at the counter. “It works out because he’ll work after school when I have to go to my night class. It just sucks I won’t get to see him as much.”

“Are you getting nervous about going back?” 

You take a carrot and nod. “For English and History I had to take online courses so I can still work my schedule. I only have to go to the campus twice a week for math class, on Wednesdays and Friday at 6pm. Room 245 in the West Wing. I have no idea where that is.”

John is checking the oven and glances over his shoulder. “Do you want to take a walk to the college and find it? That way you don’t have to worry.”

You stop chewing to look at him because you’d been planning on doing that anyway. You can’t believe he offered to do that with you. It’s like he knows exactly how to calm you down. “Yeah? That’d be great.”

“Consider it done.” He gets a package of rice from the cupboard and measures it out. “And school starts when we get back from the wedding?”

“Yep, on Tuesday.” You tell him. You think about Beth’s advice about asking John what’s on your mind and decide this is a good time to try it out. “Speaking of the wedding, are we going to stay there for one night or two?”

“I was thinkin’ two if we drive down on Friday. Then we can relax and do some stuff before Saturday evening, then drive back Sunday morning if that’s okay.”

You’re so glad you requested the whole weekend off from work, it’ll be like a mini vacation. “Is there a Continental in the Hamptons?”

John laughs, there’s no way a hotel like that would be in a small town. “No, but we’ll be staying at the bed and breakfast where the wedding will be.”

You smirk, covering your mouth so he doesn’t see it. “In one room or two?”

He turns around and looks at you nervously. “One room.”

“One bed or two?”

“One.”

Your eyebrows shoot up.

“But there’s a foldaway bed. I could even sleep on the floor.”

You break out laughing, getting up so you can get your laundry started. “It’s fine, I’m just joking with you.”

He still looks uncertain and you go to him, arms crossed over your chest. You don’t think you could handle another hug right now because the urge to kiss him is getting stronger by the minute. “Hey, after everything we’ve gone through together, you seriously think I would mind sleeping in a bed with you?”

He reaches to caress his thumb over your cheekbone, where the bruise and cut have healed. “I never want to assume anything.”

“And I would never worry about that with you.” You grab his hand and place it on your shoulder, squeezing his fingers for a hint. They begin to massage your skin and it feels amazing. “Plus, I think if I didn’t like something I’d be able to speak up about it now.”

“Really?” His hand moves to the back of your neck, behind your hair and where all of your tension lives. “I cannot wait to see that.”

“Me either. I’m usually very agreeable.” You let your eyes fall shut for a few seconds before stepping back. Turns out any physical touch makes you want to kiss him. 

“Except when you’re hungry.”

You open the door to the laundry and stop. “When I’m hungry? You’re the one who gets hangry.”

He scoffs. “Me? No way. You do.”

“Uh, yes way.” You start to load up the washer and turn it on. “If you don’t eat, you get in funk.”

“You mean like when you don’t get your morning coffee?” Well, that might be true. You never realized you get grumpy without coffee. “Don’t worry.” He pops into the laundry room and presses his lips lightly to your temple. “I think it’s cute.”

Mumbling to yourself, you finish up and go back to the kitchen. “Maybe I need to go on a coffee detox?” You get the Target bag you’d left by your purse and before Pooch sees his treat you ask John if he can have it. 

You’d think it was made of hearts and rainbows with the way he’s looking at you as he nods. 

Pooch is out in the backyard soaking up the last of the sun and gets up as soon as he hears your voice. You get him all riled up and laugh as he pounces on you like a puppy. It’s hard not to play with him for a few minutes, giving him kisses and hiding the bone behind your back, confusing him until you can’t take it anymore and let him have it, laughing again at his antics. 

John is at the door, watching and you had no idea that you had an audience. You’re slightly embarrassed he caught you being silly and bump his arm when you pass him to go inside. 

“You said he missed me, right?”

“If I said I missed you, would I get that kind of attention?”

“Too late.” You sing, giggling at the disappointment on his face. “Fine, you want a belly rub too? Come here.”

He looks curiously at you, his hair falling in his eyes as he stands just a few inches from you. Tucking his hair back, you let his strands fall between your fingers a few times before you lightly drag your nails through his beard, skimming his lips with your fingertip. “Satisfied?”

His body is swaying from your touch and you like the effect it has on him. He had closed his eyes and now he’s slowly opening them, his gaze full of adoration. “Not in the least.”

**

It’s Friday mid morning and John is on his way to pick you up. You’re nervous again, twisting the handle to your overnight bag as you wait on the curb of your apartment building. You think about dinner a few nights ago, and how the flirting was starting to get out of your control. How you abruptly stopped and continued the night like almost kissing him never happened. You’re not sure if you have the strength to do it much longer. 

The salmon John had made was perfect and so was the walk to campus after dinner. You held his hand but the tension was thick. Luckily, the both of you got distracted looking around the school and getting lost a few times before finally finding the right building and narrowing down which hallway your classroom would be in. When you got back to the house, your laundry was done drying and you made up the excuse that you were tired and had to be up early. 

Now your whole body is on pins and needles as you watch his car turn into the parking lot. You wave when there’s eye contact and he smiles as he puts it in park. 

“You didn’t have to wait down here, I could’ve helped you with your stuff.” He says, placing your bag and your dress carefully in the trunk.

“I’m very capable. And I got road trip snacks!” You proudly hold up a sack full of trail mix, licorice, and crackers. 

“Are you afraid I’m going to get hangry on the way there?” 

The thought did cross your mind and you laugh as you see two coffees when you settle in the car. 

“Were you afraid I was going to get cranky?”

“Never.” John pulls out of the complex and here you go. It’s only supposed to take a little over an hour to get to the Hamptons, but with Friday traffic it could probably take up to three. 

As you leave the city, John asks if you’ve always lived in New York. 

“Actually, I grew up in California.” You tell him. “My parents shipped me out here to live with grandma when I was a teenager. What about you?”

He doesn’t respond right away and you’ve always wondered about his family, how he grew up, anything about his childhood. You thought it must’ve been quite interesting if he ended up in an assassin school and assumed John wouldn't really ever want to talk about it. Just like you don’t want to talk much about your past. 

“I grew up in the foster system.” He finally says, eyes straight ahead. “In New York.” John doesn’t have to explain much, you can only imagine what that would have been like for him. “I ran away at least once a week. The last time I left was when I met The Director. She took me in and as it turns out, was also one of the leaders for the Russian Mafia in the city.”

You hang on to his every word, listening closely. “How old were you?”

“Eleven or twelve, I’m not really sure.”

“Is that where you met Marcus?”

“No,” John takes a sip of coffee and motions for you to do the same. “It’ll get cold.” He tells you. “I met Marcus when I was in Italy, after I was booted off to the Marines for a few years, and after a lot of training. I was out on my first assignments alone, but Marcus’ job was to trail my every move and I didn’t even know it. He saved my life a few times.”

“Really? Have you ever saved his life?”

Pausing to think about it, he stops at a red light and looks at you. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

You grin softly. “Then there will be two people at this wedding who are very lucky to know you.”

That must embarrass him because he just shakes his head with a small smile and continues to drive. You don’t want to press and ask more questions, so you turn to look out the window. All the trees are turning red and orange, the beautiful shades of autumn on the falling leaves. Time has gone by so fast and it’s hard to think that September is right around the corner. 

Eventually you feel John’s hand find its way to your lap, like usual.  It makes you feel cherished and your hand finds his, and you start to play with his long fingers. 

After a few moments of watching out the window, you let your head rest on the back of the seat. “I wish Pooch could have come with us.” You tell him softly.

“Me too, but Cassey was so happy. She said to tell you hello and that next time you’re over, she wants to play again.”

“She’s sweet.” You glance at John, giving him a fond look. 

He grins, threading your fingers together. “You’re sweet.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop being so nice.” You whisper, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. Sometimes his comments are overwhelming and it makes you emotional. You’re still not used to it.

He doesn’t miss a beat and squeezes your hand. “Okay.”

There’s not much traffic and the ride is faster than you thought it would be. By the time you get into town, it’s after lunch and both of you are starving. John wants to take you to his favorite seafood restaurant and you tell him that growing up poor you’ve never really had much seafood before, so you’ll need his help. 

It’s an experience to say the least. You discover that you like shrimp and crab, you’re not a fan of calamari but John swears you’ll learn to like it. His eyes are glued to you when the clams and mussels come out and they’re actually not too bad. You think it’s best to save trying the oysters for next time and quit while you’re ahead. 

It’s only a short distance from the restaurant to the bed and breakfast, which is right on the ocean and absolutely beautiful. The room is just like your apartment, only tiny and there really is only one bed but it’s huge. For some reason you wish it was just a little smaller. Your bags are placed in the closet and John asks if you want to take a walk on the beach before it gets dark. The weather became overcast and windy, but you want to go badly. 

The smell of the ocean, the feel of sand between your toes, being here with John… it makes you giddy and you can’t stop smiling. The breeze is chilly though and you only brought a sweater, so John pulls you close as you head towards the peer. He’s been quiet and you bump your elbow into his side, asking if he’s okay.

“I’m okay.” He reassures you gently. “I just really like watching you when you’re happy.”

You tilt your head to lean on his shoulder. “What about when I’m a crying mess in your bathtub?”

He looks away and furrows his brow. “I’d rather you be happy, but I’ll always watch over you no matter what.”

You’re starting to wonder if he’ll ever do or say the wrong thing. And then it hits you hard. Everything he tells you, everything he says to you, everything he promises you… everything has all been backed up by his actions. He doesn’t just talk about whatever he thinks you want to hear, but he actually does things all the time to prove to you that he cares. 

It’s something you’re not used to, only knowing the mindless and endless promises to change from Max. The disappointment consumes your stomach because all this time, you were comparing the two of them. And you were letting Max influence your thoughts. Double disappointment. You’ll have some reflecting to do, but you also don’t want to overthink right now and ruin the moment. 

At the end of the peer you lean against the wood railing and look out into the ocean. Your hair is going crazy in the wind and John steps behind you, blocking the breeze the best he can with his body. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, his mouth next to your ear. You nod and he comes even closer, until he’s pressed up behind you with his hands resting next to yours. It’s extremely intimate and you take a sharp breath, knowing you’re going to ruin the moment anyway.

“Is that a knife in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”

John laughs and moves his hips. “It’s a knife.”

“Oh, darn.”

You feel his body still and you know he can’t tell if you’re joking or not. You don’t give any hints either and stay silent. 

It’s becoming colder but John certainly is warm and you’re not too sure what he’s doing until you feel his nose at your temple, breathing in deeply. “You smell so good.”

A part of you wishes that he would stop. That part is doubt and fear though, which you refuse to give into right now. So, you don’t pull away and you don’t make a joke. You let him hold you and enjoy the moment because that’s what you deserve. 

TBC Chapter 7

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@blackeyedangel9805

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Welcome Home | Chapter Six: Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked

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As it turns out, John does not want to talk to you and Arthur. He just wants to talk to Arthur. You don't really have it in you to feel left out. As far as you're concerned, John's a deadbeat outlaw and an even worse deadbeat dad. You've seen him fight with Abigail about Jack. You've seen him basically avoid all responsibility. That really grinds your intestines in a way you don't like, and you want nothing more than to deck him in the face. 

Something tells you Arthur wouldn't mind all that much. Abigail, either. 

Regardless, you find yourself wandering toward Pearson's wagon while John goes over the details of some masterminded plan. Pearson isn't there, but a trail of rum bottles tells you he can't be far. You sigh and go about tidying up the cooking area. He doesn't exactly keep it up to restaurant-standard sanitation. Then again, your ideas of cleanliness probably seem over the top in the 1890's. 

Filthy cowboys, you think. But oh, to be a filthy cowboy fucker.

"A what?"

It takes Mary-Beth's shocked tone to make you realize you said that last part out loud. Face burning, you drop the pan you were scrubbing and whirl around to face her. She's staring at you, mouth agape. It hits you, then, that there's no faking your way out of this one. Instead, you raise an eyebrow as confidently as you can and say:

"I said what I said."

Mary-Beth continues to gape at you. You can see the mortification in her eyes, akin to an innocent soul whose eternal salvation has just been, well, obliterated. 

"Oh come on." You lower your voice a little. "Don't tell me you haven't dreamed about riding a cowboy."

Briefly, she glances over at Kieran, then back to you. "No."

"Uh huh." You give her a grin. "Sure."

Luckily, that seems to be enough for her, and she scurries away--probably to tell Karen everything you said. You shrug and go back to cleaning. There's a small moment where you think about how important "purity" is in the 1890's, but you quickly dismiss it. You're running with a gang of outlaws. Purity is the last thing on their minds.

You finish the last pan and set it aside. The wagon looks ten times better, and yet before you can applaud yourself for your handiwork, Micah Bell stalks over to you with a glint in his eyes that you don't like. 

"Y/N," he greets. His tone sounds about as condescending as it can get.

"Don't call me that," you deadpan.

"Oh come on now." Micah's smirk widens into a shark-like grin. "Don't be that way."

You jab a finger at him. "Don't tell me what to do."

Over the time you've been with the Van Der Linde gang, you've realized one thing sticks out more than you in the past: Micah. It goes beyond most people not liking him. Hell, it goes beyond you not liking him. There's something that makes you nervous about the way he acts, the way he always looks like he's ready to stab people in the back. You've dealt with enough back-stabbers in your life to know one when you see one. And Micah more than fits the bill.

He also fits the typical psychotic case file in every Law and Order episode you've seen. But he wouldn't understand that reference. You want every insult of yours to land hard on him, so you don't mention it. 

Micah glances at your finger, still pointing at him, and raises his hands in mock-surrender. You know he's lying. He's not done. Not yet.

"Why don't you like me, Y/N?" He asks. The question would seem innocent... if it weren't for the terrifying glint in his eyes. 

You shrug, though your heart quickens just a bit. This is a trap. "We'll be here for a while if I list everything."

"That ain't very nice." Micah takes a step toward you. "I think my feelings are hurt."

Almost without your knowledge, your hand reaches behind you to grab the handle of a cooking pan. Just in case. 

"Micah," you say, "I think we both know you don't have any feelings. Besides anger." 

It's the wrong thing to say. Micah takes another step toward you, the glint in his eyes darkening dangerously, and your grip tightens on the pan. Whether you can hit him before he hits you? You suppose you'll just have to find out. 

"Do we have a problem here?" Hosea demands as he walks over. He looks calm, but you don't miss the way his hand is hovering by his revolver. 

Micah looks from you, to Hosea, then back to you. He's weighing his options, you decide, clearly wondering if he can get away with everything. 

"Not at all," he eventually says. "Not at all, old man."

Hosea glances at you, sees your hand still death-gripping the pan, and brings his hand a little closer to his gun. "Doesn't look that way."

Micah bares his teeth. "Y/N and I were just having a friendly chat... Weren't we, Y/N?"

Go fuck yourself, you think, but say: "I've had friendlier."

"Go make yourself useful," Hosea hisses at Micah, "and check out those leads in Strawberry. Dutch told you to do that days ago." 

For a moment, it looks like Micah isn't going to listen. He glowers at Hosea and curls his lip into a terrifying snarl. Hosea, for all the money in the world, doesn't back down. In fact, his stance shifts ever so slightly, and you catch a glimpse of a dangerous outlaw lurking beneath the figure of a kindhearted man. 

You make a mental note to never get on Hosea's bad side.

Eventually, Micah mutters something under his breath and walks away. You breathe a sigh of relief. Not that you were scared of him. Not at all. Getting in a fight, though, wasn't on your list for the day. At least now you can relax.

"You can let go of the pan now, Y/N," Hosea says, amused. 

Oh. Right. The pan. You loosen your grip, fingers slightly stiff from how tight you were holding the handle. You flex them a bit, then give Hosea a smile.

"Thanks," you tell him. "Much as I would've loved to hit him, I would feel bad for the pan."

Hosea laughs and steers you away from the wagon. "Me too, Y/N. Me too."

A/N: Mary-Beth is scarred for life. Also: Hosea is Best Dad and I will not hear one word against him. Ever. 

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Now Complete

Over the last three months, I have dedicated a huge chunk of my limited free time to writing this piece. What started out as a possible kinktober one-shot was side-tabled as I realized it had potential to be an actual story. Now, twenty chapters and 103,723 words later I am thrilled to say that this installment is complete.

I’ve already begun a second installment of this series which will pick up at the start of John’s retirement. I’m hoping to have the first chapter out within the week.

Thank you so much to everybody who liked, commented, and supported me during this story and a huge thank you to @meetmeinthematinee​ for helping me edit and review this beast.

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Chapter 20 Link

 A new start.

 That was what she had deemed it. For both of them.

 John went around the city. Closing accounts. Transferring mountains of coins into actual money. Saying silent goodbyes to the places that had defined him for a lifetime. And stashing markers, money, and weapons. Just in case.

 He hopes he will never have to use them.

 And, while he does that, Helen packs up her house.

 The decision to move in together came approximately two days after returning from Vermont. They’d wasted enough time, they both decided.      “And,    ” Helen had teased,      “God forbid we decide to spend a night apart, I already know you’ll sneak in to watch me sleep.    ”

 Minx.

     “I’m more than happy to sell my place.”    He had told her.

     “You’ve given up your entire life for me.    ” She had argued, gently running her hand through his hair.      “I’ll give up the house. Besides, if you think I’m giving up your hot tub, you’re fucking dreaming.”  

 And that had been that.

 They’d driven to her house, stopping to pick up boxes and tape and bubble wrap, and started packing up.

         She made some calls around the city, looking for charities to donate some of her furniture to. John’s bed, she had discovered, was far more comfortable than hers. And they didn’t need multiple dining room tables or sets of cookware or dishes.

 John borrowed a truck from Aurelio and, with his and Marcus’ help, started dropping things off across the city.

 In the remaining days of her “recovery”/vacation, they manage to empty most of her little house. And while      their     house (he will never get used to the sheer joy that fills him at that descriptor) is now a mess of boxes and suitcases, it has never felt more like home.

 He laughs at the three boxes of shoes Helen has to unpack, only to have to dodge a high heel used as a projectile.

 He revels in the way she unpacks her sweaters and dresses to hang across from his clothes.

 He also takes a great deal of pleasure when he finds the small box, once hidden away in the back of her closet, containing a number of delightful little toys. He gets another shoe thrown at him as he practically begs for details.

 Helen laughs and offers a private demonstration… once her books are shelved in the library. John scrambles to fulfill her every wish.

 One of the benefits of Helen having her own practice was that she could really do whatever the hell she wanted. She had reached out to all her clients first thing on Monday to apologize for her absence, reporting that she had been the victim in a hit-and-run, leaving her in a coma for the better part of the week. While she was doing much better, she told them, she still needed another week for recovery.

 Of course, the Underworld had bought out half the cops in the city. A quick call from John Wick and shit was being filed      exactly     how he demanded it to be. Doctor’s notes were forged, along with hospital ‘records.’ That part was easy.

 What had been much more complicated, John discovered, was dealing with the missing person’s out on Helen and it throws his world off kilter, yet again.

 Her family had been terrified. While Helen wasn’t exactly in constant contact with them, the police had reached out after a concerned associate of Helen’s reported her missing. Unable to contact her, her parents and sister had been in a frenzy.

 Using the phone that John had paid for, insisting that he buy her a new one since it was his enemy who had destroyed hers, she reluctantly calls her mother.

     “Mom, I am begging you, stay home. I’m fine.”  

     “We’ve been so worried!” John hears her mother sobbing on the other side of the line, “A hit-and-run, oh, sweetheart!”  

 And if      that’s    her mother’s reaction from a hit-and-run, John doesn’t want to know what her mother would do if she ever found out the truth.

 Kidnapped, held hostage, marked for death…

 The poor woman might have a heart attack.

     “You’re still recovering! You need someone to take care of you!”  

     “I have someone taking care of me.”    Helen had said, and at that moment, John had indeed been massaging her shoulders. His lips had twitched in response.

 He was the one taking care of her.

 He would be the one taking care of her forever.

 It made him giddy to think about.

     “Who?”  

They hadn’t discussed labels. It all seemed sort of unnecessary after all they had been through. But when Helen makes the executive decision and says, “my boyfriend” John wonders if he’s the one having a heart attack with the way his own is beating so hard it feels like it might burst at any moment.

 Boyfriend.

 He’d never been a boyfriend before. He’d never had any interest in being a boyfriend before. A term he’d never imagined being applied to him but now that it was…

 He was a boyfriend.

 He was      Helen’s    boyfriend.

 He’s filled with pride and affection and so much love he doesn’t know what to do. She leans into him, reaching up to where his hands have stopped massaging as he attempts to process her words. And because she’s Helen and she knows him better than he knows himself, she squeezes his hand.

 Grounding him.

 But, of course, her confession to her mother opens another avenue of questions.      What boyfriend? How long have you been seeing each other? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?  

 To which Helen answers respectively       his name is John. We met seven months ago. And because who I date and when I decide to share that information is my choice    .

 It’s another half an hour of questioning before Helen manages to talk her way off of the phone after wrangling a promise that her mother would      not     fly to New York. In return, Helen was to send her daily text updates on her health.

 Her sister was another matter. Living only an hour away in Trenton, her sister insisted on driving up. It ended up working well, however. While he had testified without a single problem, John hadn’t had the time to meet with Tarasov.

 So Wednesday, Helen agreed to meet her sister for lunch while John had gone to meet with a mob boss.

 John arrives at Tarasov’s compound and, once again, finds himself subject to stares.

 They had always been there. The Baba Yaga was the focal of fascination for a great many, but most had always tried to hide the attention they paid to the man, the monster. But since Helen’s existence had been made known, he’s found himself front and center everywhere he goes.

 And it had only become worse after being questioned by the High Table on the DeLuca’s and their involvement. While John had repeatedly stated he would not answer questions regarding his relationship with Helen, it didn’t stop the questions from coming.

 During the trial and afterwards, members of the High Table had tried to push. John had given them nothing.

 John is silent as he walks up to Viggo’s office.

 The last tie to sever.

 While Abram was scared enough of John Wick to let him go without a fight, John was certain that Viggo’s ambition would rise to the occasion.

 After all, hadn’t John Wick done the impossible? He had brought down Syndicate and saved the girl with every odd stacked against him.

 And now Viggo wanted a piece of that.

 The impossible.

 And John will do it. Of course, he will do anything if it means being released.

 Retirement is so close he can taste it as he steps into the familiar office, closing the door behind him.

 Viggo Tarasov sits at his desk, setting his paper aside as John takes a seat in front of him.

 “John.” Viggo greets, “I was surprised to hear from you.”

 John inclines his head. Viggo was full of shit.

 Lorenzo had shared with his children that he had released John Wick of his contract following the trial. The rest of the Underworld knew by sundown. John was certain that Viggo was well aware of John’s intentions in this meeting.

 “I’m retiring.” John says, truly not in the mood for games.

 Viggo nods in response to the news, clearly expecting John’s announcement. “Very few people retire from our world.”

 “Because most are dead long before they reach my age.”

 “I’m older than you.”

 “You have a desk job.” John points out, aware that his status is the only reason he can get away with saying such things to Viggo Tarasov.

 Viggo waves a hand vaguely, “You’ve never had interest in a desk job.”

 “Nor do I now. However, I still intend to live a while longer. In peace.”

 “Peace.” Viggo says, testing the word on his tongue, “That must be a foreign concept to a man like you.”

 A year ago, John would have agreed with him.

 Hell, eight months ago, John would have agreed with him.

 And while his experiences were still limited, he already had a glimpse of peace. In the weekly visits he had paid to Helen’s office. In the quiet of the night as he meditated to each and every intake and exhale of breath.

 Now, John knew peace in the moments before his alarm went off and he held Helen close to him. He knew peace in the way she wrapped herself around him as he made her coffee. He knew peace in the way her head rested on his shoulder or in the soft flips of pages as Helen read by his side. He knew peace in the moments where she held him.

 “I’m aware you hold my contract,” John says, ignoring Viggo’s comment. “I am more than willing to buy it out.”

 A longshot, John knew.

 Viggo tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering it. Yet John knows, from that single action, that Viggo already has something in mind. Something he wants done that only John Wick can manage. John just fucking wishes he’d get to the point instead of treating this like a game.

 “At this time, your contract is not for sale.” Viggo says, “However, there is a task I have in mind. A bit… difficult, to say the least. But, should you complete this for me, I would be more than willing to release you from your contract.”

 There it is.

 “What do you have in mind?”

 “It’s a bit of an impossible task…”

 …

 When John arrives home and he’s relieved to find Helen’s car parked out front. He makes a mental note to install a garage opener in her car as soon as possible.

 John quickly goes inside, not wasting any time. The desire to set eyes on her is overwhelming and he wonders how he managed to      only     see her at night for months on end.

 He’s not certain he can ever again go longer than hours without seeing her, touching her.

 Helen has become an addiction.

 When he doesn’t find her in the living room or the kitchen, he goes upstairs. Sure enough, she is in the library, kneeling in front of a bookcase as her fingers trace over the spines.

 “How was lunch?” He asks and Helen’s lips twitch.

 With anyone else, he might have scared them. Even in his own home, he tends to walk lightly so as not to be noticed. But she’s always had that sixth sense about him. It brings him an absurd amount of happiness to know that she understands and sees him.

 “It was fine.” She reaches a hand up. John takes it and helps tug her back to her feet. “Got a bit of the third degree but I suppose I can’t blame her for being curious, all things considered.”

 On tiptoes, she gives him a quick kiss. “How was Tarasov?”

 “As expected,” John says.

 Helen hums as she looks him over, “Indirect answer.”

 “It could be worse.” John tries again.

 “Now you’re being evasive.”

 She had warned him life would be like this. She’s spent the better part of her life learning to read people and despite being an enigma to most of the world, John Wick is an open book to Helen.

 He can’t bring himself to be upset when they both knew this was exactly how it was going to be.

 “He wants me to complete a rather difficult task.”

 “How dangerous is this going to be?” She asks, folding her arms over her stomach.

 She did that when she was worried, John had noticed. He hates that it’s him causing her such stress but comforts himself with the fact that this will be the last time.

 “Fairly.” Helen’s face is that unique mix of impassive and empathetic that he was used to seeing in her office. He steps forward, catching her chin in his hand and drawing up her face. “I’ll be fine.” He promises.

 She gives him a small smile and nods. She’s scared, he knows. And he is too. He’s never had so much to lose.

 “What does he want?”

 He wants to shake his head and tell her not to worry about it. But he knows exactly how that conversation will go if he tries.

 “There are a few rival Russian gangs that Viggo wants control of.”

 “A few?” Her brows shoot up.

 Maybe he should have phrased that better.

 While he’s unsurprised by Viggo’s demands given the opportunity to manipulate the Baba Yaga, Helen worries. She used to joke that it was her job to worry—that he paid her good money for such. And he would smile and promise to see her next week.

 But things had changed so much since DeLuca.

 She understood a little bit more just what John was capable of. In the moments when she had been in DeLuca’s grasp,      John     had learned a bit more of what he was capable of.

 But in understanding that, she grew more worried. When it came to her, they both knew that he was capable of      anything    .

 And that made him reckless, to a degree.

     “It goes both ways, John.”     She told him when he had first explained what it would take to actually retire, what he might need to do to be released by the Tarasov’s.      “You worry about me constantly, but I worry about you too. Do you really think I would be okay if something happened to you?”  

     “You could move on.”    He had replied,      “I know you would hurt, but you could go on living your life.”  

     “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re an idiot, John. I would be    devastated       if something happened to you, if I lost you.”  

     “It’s different.”  

     “Like hell it is. Do you know how many nights I used to lie awake until you would get to my house because I was so paranoid, so scared that something would happen to you?”    Helen had shaken her head,      “Or that I used to spend my Friday’s in an anxious blur, terrified that one day you just weren’t going to show up. That you’d just… be gone.”  

     “It’s different.    ” John had maintained, “      Hels, you’re—you’re all I have.”  

 And that was just a fact. Without him, Helen would have her family, her friends, her work.

 But without her… what would he be?

 “It will be fine.” He promises, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair back from where it had fallen in her face. It assures him that she is real and safe when his thoughts start to overwhelm him, “This is more of a point-and-shoot kind of gig. Just with a lot of moving targets.”

 An impossible number of moving targets. He forgoes saying as much, still trying to formulate a plan in his mind on how he’s going to pull this off.

 “Is there a timeline?”

 Technically, no. Viggo hadn’t given him any sort of indication of when he wanted it completed, but John was strongly in favor of doing it as quickly as possible. The sooner the task was completed, the sooner he was free.

  And, oh, what a thought that was.

 “Friday.” He answers aloud. Two days away. It would give him the time to prepare, because once he started, he could not stop until he was done.

 She nods, leaning her head against his hand.

 He hates that he is responsible for making her worry. John pulls her into a hug, wrapping her in his arms securely.

 “Come on,” he kisses the top of her head, “Let’s go pack some more of your books to bring over.”

 She brightens visibly at that and they make another trip to her house.

 While Helen desperately needs the distraction, John realizes it’s just as beneficial for him. It reassures him, just as her touch does, that she’s real. That this is actually happening and not just some coma dream, which he felt might be more realistic.

 They spend Thursday much the same way. While he’s tried to tempt Helen to take another week of vacation, she only shakes her head and says,      “It wouldn’t be fair to my clients    .”

 Marcus comes over to help.

 “Helen, if he’s blackmailing you into moving in with him, I can get you help. Blink once.”

 The older assassin dodges multiple projectiles from multiple directions, laughing all the while.

 “I’m serious! You can do better!”

 It’s a joke, and John      knows     that, but he still appreciates the extra affection she shows him. Like she knows that John still lays awake at night, wondering if he was good enough for her. But she slips under his arm, resting against his chest while she shoots back, “Forgive me for not taking advice from a man who’s still in a committed relationship with his daddy issues.”

 He makes a sound of pain even as he grins, “Low blow, Kingston.”

 “Come at my man, I’ll come for your life.”

     My man     echoes around in John’s head for hours after that and Marcus’ teasing was soon forgotten.

 After that declaration, his hands, which were impossibly steady when aiming a gun or striking a blow, were shaky. He had to talk himself through wrapping up her décor so as not to break it.

 They loaded up the borrowed truck, driven by Marcus, as well as stuffing her SUV full.

 “Hope you don’t change your mind about him, because I am      not     doing this again.” Marcus complains after he and John manage to get her loveseat into the back of the pickup.

 “I’m not concerned.” She says and the conviction in her words and her tone leaves John all the more in love with her.

     Good    , he thinks. He is no longer strong enough to let her go.

 John watches with fascination and awe as he hears a dog bark and watches as her eyes light up. An older man approaches with a golden retriever pulling on its leash trying to reach Helen. He recognizes the dog from the neighborhood, having seen it be taken outside late at night from a few houses over.

 The dog breaks free of the owner, tearing the leash from his hand, bolting towards Helen.

 Grinning, Helen drops down low and braces for the contact. “Hey, Buddy.” She says, scratching the pup behind the ears as the dog pants excitedly.

 “Sorry, Helen!”

 “No worries,” She calls back to the owner, “You know I’m always down for a Buddy-snuggle.”

 Marcus snorts and mutters to John, “How easily you can be replaced.”

 John rolls his eyes, smiling all the while as she coos to the dog lovingly. He thinks back to the first time she met, showing him pictures of her favorite dogs. He had been almost surprised that she didn’t have one of her own.

 With a final pet to the stop of Buddy’s head, she sends him back over to the owner with a wave, before climbing back to her feet.

 A part of him was reluctant to share her but he could imagine, maybe somewhere down the line, getting a dog with Helen. He thinks she would like that, the potential images flipping through his head and filling him with an unexpected warmth.

 “Should have guessed you were a dog person,” Marcus says.

 “Always have been.” She replies, slipping back under John’s arms. Even with moving furniture and boxes, it’s still cold outside. He tucks his chin to her head and wraps his arms around her.

 “Makes sense given your choice in partner.”

 She throws Marcus a look, but he holds up his hands defensively.

 “Not like that! No need to bring my daddy issues into this. Just meant he’s got some of those qualities. Unwavering loyalty, literally the definition of a dog with a bone when it comes to you. Protective, but a little bit stupid.”

 “Thanks, Marcus.” John says, rolling his eyes yet again.

 “I prefer dogs to people, anyway.” Helen says, patting his arm. “Far less complicated. They don’t make muddles out of things the way we do. And they’re far less self-interested.”

 “All this, coming from the only one of us who works with humans for a living.”

 She grins at that, “It’s why I can say, without a doubt, that dogs are better than people.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be hyper-empathic to the human experience?”

 “I can be. And there is a lot about said human experience that I admire,” Helen says, “We’re an incredibly resilient species. The mind can handle just about anything, which is remarkable when you think about it. And we’ve worked to build societies based on mutual respect and social currency. There’s drama and endless uphill battles, struggles and triumphs, and a capacity for healing unseen in any other creatures,” She shrugs, “But there’s something to be said for just      living    . Simply, at that.”

 He feels his arms tightening around her as he presses a kiss to her head.

 He loves her more than he’ll ever be able to express. Helen leans to the side so her face is just below his and kisses him once more.

 “I’m going to finish with my room.” She tells him and slips out of his arms. He watches as she walks back into the house.

 She’s giving it up for him. Her home, her space.

 It’s still so surreal.

 “She’s incredible.” Marcus says softly.

 “I don’t deserve her.”

 “No, you don’t.” His friend smiles, “Luckily, she loves you anyway.”

 It was strange to think that they had only declared their love for each other a week ago. A single week of verbally and physically expressing their love for one another.

 It simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all.

 John heads back into the house, following her path to her bedroom. Her clothes and jewelry had already been packed but her furniture, along with a handful of other things, was left behind. She had washed her sheets earlier and was packing them in a box marked      donations    .

 He takes one end of the sheet and helps her start to fold the next.

 The question pours from him before he can even think about it.

 “Would you like a dog?” John asks, “You know, someday?”

 She steps forward, collecting the sheet, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Would      you    want a dog?”

 John shrugs, truly uncaring. “I like dogs.”

 “But there’s a difference between liking dogs and wanting a dog. Would you actually want to have a pet? In your perfectly kept, immaculate house?”

 He feels like he shouldn’t say      I want whatever you want     because he doesn’t want to burden her with all the decisions, but truthfully, the only thing in life he wants is to make her happy. The little details don’t matter to him so much as giving her the opportunity to smile.

 “I wouldn’t mind either way,” he says as she folds it one last time and places it in the box with the others, “And the house is immaculate because I barely spend time there.”

 She considers it for a moment, and he feels his heart flutter with the twitch of her lips. “Yeah. Someday. Maybe we adopt an older dog. I’ve always had a soft spot for the rejects.”

 “Makes sense.” John teases and she rolls her eyes.

 “I swear, John Wick, if you make another orphan joke…”

 He grins, stepping into her space. He catches her face in his hands and draws her in for a kiss.

 Her soft lips yield to him and he will never understand what he has done to deserve such grace. But he swears to himself that he will never take for granted her presence or her touch or her love.

 This is happiness. It’s also only the beginning.

 …

 Friday comes, as it must.

 John had wondered if he would feel nervous or anxious for his final mission, his last task. Instead, he wakes up feeling eerily calm.

 He’s never been so grateful for something to end. But then, he’s never had a beginning to look forward to.

 Helen, he finds, is far more nervous than he is.

 “Should you be resting?” She asks as he takes down some of his own books so he can move the shelves around. He wouldn’t be leaving until sunset, much preferring to use the cover of darkness to hide his presence.

 “I’ll be fine.” He assures her. He’s gone on countless missions without sleeping or after only getting a few hours here and there to keep him going. Truthfully, having slept a full eight hours the night before is more than he usually gets.

 But he knows it’s not enough to stop her from worrying so John distracts her. First with planning out their new library. When that didn’t hold her attention enough, he switched to distracting her with his body.

 A sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

 He fucked her in the library before carrying her to the bedroom to take her again. And Helen was insatiable, much to his delight. But fucking her to the point of exhaustion took far more out of him than he anticipated.

 By the time she’s finally too tired to carry on, John finds himself closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

 Her fingers trace the back of his neck as she whispers, “Gotcha.”

 She really is brilliant, he thinks, as John finds himself manipulated into napping.

 He wakes up feeling far more rested and newly motivated to go out and come back home. To never be forced to leave her side again, so long as they both lived.

 It’s all so close.

 Helen runs her hand over his hair.

 “Thank you for making me sleep.” He teases softly.

 “I don’t know what you mean.”

 “Liar.”

 Helen grins at that, leaning forward to kiss him.

     This    , he thinks, this is what waits for him on the other side of the night.

 It motivates him anew.

 John showers and dresses. His traditional three-piece, he hopes to never wear again. For her sake, he leaves the tie on the bureau.

 John slips a small gun into his ankle holster, a knife into his sock. He chooses his weapons carefully as he prepares for the night ahead of him.

 One last time.

 Leaving is so very different than it had always been. Rather than heading straight from his room to his car, he detours to find his partner. To see her, to kiss her before he goes.

 He can hear conversation flowing from the kitchen as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and blinks in surprise.

 Marcus.

 He slips into the kitchen and watches as Helen rummages around in the fridge before pulling out and handing Marcus a beer.

 Marcus, he thinks, is probably the person he would miss the most. One of his oldest friends. One of the first people he ever learned to trust.

 Someone he would soon have to say goodbye to, along with everyone else.

 A large brown paper bag sits in front of him on the kitchen counter.

 “Marcus.” John greets as he steps into the kitchen.

 “John.” Marcus uses the edge of the counter to pry the bottle cap off. “Everything in place?”

 John nods. He had weapons stored around the city and Santino would be assisting. John had been reluctant to make a deal with the mafioso when he was so close to retirement but there were too many moving parts for what Tarasov had asked for John to accomplish it alone.

 Santino swore, so long as John stayed out of the Underworld, he would not use the marker John had promised him. But, should he ever step foot back, he was fair game.

 He almost felt bad for Santino. He would never go back to that life. Not while he had Helen.

 “Didn’t know you were coming over.” John comments, watching as Helen opens a bottle of wine for herself.

 “Somebody’s got to keep your girl from losing her mind.”

 “It’s an important job.” Helen jokes, smiling up at John. “I was afraid I was going to go stir-crazy waiting here at home.”

 He can understand that. He had nearly gone insane in hours after she had been kidnapped.

 John holds open an arm for her, and she wraps around him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 “What are you two going to do?” He asks.

 “Marcus brought Thai food,” she gestures to the paper bag, “And we’re going to get drunk then watch and score kung-fu movies bloodlust, technique, and general sexiness.”

 John smiles down at Helen, wondering how he ever managed to make it day to day without her. “Sounds like fun.”

 “We’re starting with Enter the Dragon. Which I’m going to go get set up.” Helen stands on tiptoes and gives John a quick kiss, before grabbing her wine glass and heading to the living room.

 “Last mission.” Marcus says.

 John nods again, “It is.”

 “How do you feel?”

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Helen.” John jokes, thinking of all the times his girlfriend had asked him that very same question, “But I feel ready.”

 “Nervous?”

 “Not even a little.”

 “Good.” Marcus glances to where she had exited, “I worried in the beginning. That you weren’t thinking clearly; that she didn’t have what it takes to be involved with an assassin. I’m glad I was wrong on both counts.”

 John looks down because he really doesn’t know how to have this conversation. He’d said his goodbyes to Sofia, to Winston, to Charon. To the few members of the Underworld that mattered to him. But this is one he just doesn’t know how to say.

 Marcus has had his back for two decades. He’d been his friend and confidant. The only person on the planet John had felt he could trust Helen to when his life fell apart. The man who, even now, was devoting his time to helping Helen.

 “We know the rules,” Marcus says quietly, “That after tonight… we go our separate ways…”

 “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.” John says just as softly.

 He’s told Helen, explained it to her.

 She had been angry, at first. That John was being forced to give up his friends along with everything else. That the Underworld was so unwavering and rigid with their rules and expectations. Then, she had been sad. Then guilty.

 She promised she would love him whether he left the Underworld or not and he believed her. But the life he wanted… it was for both of them. And it didn’t involve looking over their shoulders every moment of every day. He wanted to take her to dinner and not worry that the man two tables over was packing. To go to the farmer’s market without wondering if someone was going to attack.

 He told her again and again that this was      his    decision. That he was the one deciding to part ways in order to have the life that      he     wanted.

 And he has no regrets.

 There was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice for that life.

 “Me too. But… you’re making the right choice, John.” Marcus assures him. “And I know that we won’t be able to go get a beer or hang out but write to me now and then. Send me the announcement if you ever convince that beautiful woman to marry you.”

 John nods, “I will.”

 “Good.”

 And maybe it’s because it’s goodbye, or maybe Helen has made him completely soft, but John walks across the room and hugs his friend.

 “Thank you. For everything.”

 Marcus nods, “Just… live well. Take care of each other.”

 “We will.”

 They part and John leaves Marcus to sort through the takeout he had brought with him. John follows Helen into the living room. She is using the remote to type in a password, standing barefoot in the middle of the sunken section.

 John takes the two steps down. Helen glances up as he does. He watches her swallow.

 “Time to go?” She asks softly and he nods.

 She tosses the remote to the side and throws her arms around him. Her grip is impossibly tight, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never felt more loved than when her arms are around him.

 “You’ll be careful out there?” her voice breaks a bit as she asks the same question, she asked every single week before he left the safety of her office. Right before John went out to venture into the Underworld.

 “I promise.” He kisses the top of her head.

 She breathes a soft sigh of relief. Helen leans back, looking up at him even if she doesn’t release her arms. “Because if you’re not back by morning, I’m coming after you.”

 “I’ll be back.”

 Partially because there was no way in Hell he was ever letting her become involved with the Underworld again but mostly because she was his home. The only one he had ever known.

 John catches her jaw in his hand and angles her face upward and teases, “It will be over soon. This time next week, you’ll be so annoyed with me, you’ll be wishing you could send me back.”

 “Never.” She says even as she smiles. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.” He kisses her lips, giving himself a moment to be completely consumed by her. To memorize, once more, her smell and touch and taste. He’ll take her with him everywhere he goes and hold on to the memory to guide him back home.

 With a final, soft kiss on lips he releases her. To leave her side one last time. He walks back up the steps to the leveled floor. He reaches out for the handle to the garage door.

 “John?” She says and he glances back, “Come home to me.”

 His lips twitch as he opens the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 With the morning comes their promise of forever.

[gwoongi]

wordless pt.2

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 4.4k warnings: violence mention, toxic relationships, mentioned deaths a/n: oh fyi jeongguk isnt part of the mafias included in these drabbles, he’s a solo hitman who works closely with taehyung nd other mentioned men. he has his own little business/group of hitmen (like the continental kinda style thing) where he’s sort of the big man who people look up to, but he’s not rly mafia :) hope that helps explain stuff hehehe. Also this one is sad heheheh x2

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(11) Telling them a dumb joke just to see them smile.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I really am.”

Next to you on the couch, Jeongguk reaches for your hands that are clamped in your lap. The clock ticks hauntingly slowly, and everything feels dark, and cold, and empty. The front room that is usually vibrant with life and energy is now devoid of emotion, besides the sniffles on the couch that are hidden in shadows.

“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, sniffing once again. “Not your fault.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says, “but I’m still sorry.”

There was nothing that could have been done. Not really, even though Jeongguk repents at the thought that he could have done something. It was an accident, a car that pushed into another one and sent your parents off the bridge and into the Han River. It seemed impossible, but as of late, the impossible became possible. Jeongguk had heard the news several hours after you, contemplating in the silence of your responses over the phone. Eventually, he asked Taehyung and got more than what he bargained for.

“Is there anybody left?” he asks.

“Like my family?”

“Yeah,” he softly answers.

You sniff once more, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “My aunt, she, uh, she lives in Finland, I think. I don’t know, everybody cut ties after you. Well. After, you know.”

Jeongguk gulps sourly, “yeah. After your brother.”

Somewhere in the city, police sirens blare. From in the kitchen, the small radio still reads out a report of the accident, and if Jeongguk were to rise and look out of the window, he might see the flashing lights from the bridge. When the room goes silent, Jeongguk’s just afraid you’ll hear the report and start crying again.

“Can you, um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I don’t know, tell me about your day or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk mutters, rubbing his thumb across your hand. “Wore that badge to work today. You know the Dad one?” You nod and he continues, “Got a stir out of my guys. You were right, Taehyung got salty about it.”

You manage a laugh, little puffs of air from your nose. “I should have got him one. Maybe a brother one, I didn’t see uncles.”

“Fuck him,” Jeongguk says, “My gift, my badge.”

“Don’t wanna upset him,�� you shrug pathetically, along with a tight sniff that burns your left nostril.

Jeongguk rubs your arm, “He’s not gonna be upset. Seeing you upset makes me upset, though,” he says quietly, and you peer around your hair at him, “what kind of Dad would I be if I let my little girl be upset, hmmm?”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s feigning an innocence and the sight makes you laugh slightly, not enough to distract you but enough to leave Jeongguk satisfied. He smiles and leans over, dropping his head against yours with a little sigh that blows your hair. It wasn’t enough to distract you from the devastation that is losing your family, but if it’s something to make you feel less alone, then he’ll try.

(12) Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

“I can’t imagine your brother doing this,” Jeongguk says, holding a ribbon of tinsel in his hands with an unconvincing stare thrown in your direction. He does this whilst standing near the doorway, just behind your couch, like he’s ready at any moment to leave or come inside.

As he does this, you’re across the living room, waltzing with a tree that stands on an angle, lopsided and skinny and naked with no decorations. The lights sit in a snake-like swirl on the floor, flickering on one setting and in resignation, you sigh loudly and turn to face him.

“Well, the last time he helped me decorate a tree, I was five,” you reason. “It’s been a long time, but my parents always did this with me, and-”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeongguk frowns. Since the bridge, he’s always walked on eggshells around the subject of parents and traditions. Before he knew it, Christmas was two weeks away, and around his tight schedule and endless demand for his presence at work, he figured he had to make up for the lost time by being with you.

Jeongguk never imagined that he’d rely on you to absolve him of his own boredom and self pity, but here he is, on a Wednesday afternoon in your apartment that he unwillingly thinks of as a retreat, a home away from home when things get too claustrophobic back at his own place. Things are messy and complicated and cold there. He likes being here, because of how it feels being here.

But maybe he’s here out of guilt, and you stare at him for a few seconds, recognising this unfamiliar distance in his eyes that screams guilt and discomfort. You don’t want to mention it, scared of what might be underneath the mask he’s wearing tonight.

“If you’re not gonna do anything, can you at least hold the tree so I can put the lights on it?” you ask. “You can just go, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he insists, moving around the couch. “I just. I never did this as a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing the tree as you crouch for the lights, “so this feels a little childish.”

You shrug, “nothing childish about Christmas.”

“Everything about Christmas is childish when you have never really celebrated it,” Jeongguk theorises. Now that he’s holding the tree, it’s a lot easier to decorate.

“We can celebrate it if you’d like,” you suggest. He says nothing, “not like all the gifts and stuff, but just in general.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves so you can weave the lights around the branches. “Alright, sounds like it’ll kill my time this Christmas?”

You scoff, laughing lightly. “Well, isn’t that what I’m here for? To kill your time?”

Jeongguk takes a step back once the lights are wrapped around, and throws an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body. “Something like that.”

(13) Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Jeongguk had asked you to meet him at his place when he got off from work, and thankfully the guard on the gate had let you up early with the promise of cookies the next time you came to visit. You let yourself up to his suite and waited on the couch, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table and nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, lit up blue with the city outside.

About half an hour later, Jeongguk comes through the front door and drops his shit by the shoe rack. His keys rattle and drop on the counter and a few moments later, he’s moving across the room to the couch where he drops, knees first, setting his head in your lap as he falls.

“Hey,” you say unenthusiastically, stifling a yawn as he groans and stuffs his face closer into your body. He doesn’t say anything, just lies there, and you gently lock your fingers into his hair that seems messy and almost curly and begin to play.

“Tired?” you ask, and this time he moans in reply, a yes, and nothing else is said.

(14) Singing and dancing to their favourite song.

“Remind me again- it’s definitely okay that I’m here as your guest?”

Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back never disappears as he tours you around the room, gently smiling at people around him with a slender glass of wine in the other free hand. It is on this Saturday evening that Jeongguk finds himself in attendance of the Somber-Rain Ball. Unlike any other time where Jeongguk came solo, or with his colleagues from work, tonight he is joined by you, tailored in a beautiful black dress that sweeps the floor behind you, still somehow modest enough to keep you out of the glazed eyes of the other attendees.

“Yes, it is absolutely fine,” he sighs, steering you out of the self-collected gallery that surely belongs in this large and maze-like mansion. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if it wasn’t allowed, Y/N.”

“I know, but lately you’ve been doing all sorts of things that you probably shouldn’t,” you remind him, curling into his armpit as you cross the dancefloor towards the bar, that slopes to a side and is scarcely populated. A man who stands there bows his head to Jeongguk but ignores him straight afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, “Isn’t that my thing?”

“I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” you shrug. Jeongguk smiles and kisses the crown of your head.

“Getting into trouble is my job, dear, not yours.” He faces the bartender and slides the drink, “A round of bourbon after the dance, please.”

“What kind, sir?”

Jeongguk hums, then clicks his tongue, “Try the Brothers’ Bond, I heard you just had it imported.”

The bartender nods, “Certainly, sir.”

Jeongguk nods and turns his attention back towards you, right as the young bartender hurries to find clean glasses for the happy couple. Jeongguk turns to your eyes and smiles at the raised eyebrows he sees, and pulls you further towards him as the orchestra finishes their latest piece.

“Isn’t that the bourbon that the Salvatore brothers made?” Jeongguk asks, feigning an innocence and a forgetfulness for the time you brought it up to his face a few weeks ago. You say nothing besides shaking your head, turning towards the crowd as it slightly thins, just as the orchestra calls it for a few seconds, and a song on the speakers takes its place.

It’s just the first few opening chords but Jeongguk clearly is familiar. He sighs loudly, audibly with an “ah” and then tucks himself closer to you.

“Love this song,” he states. “Miss L/N, care to dance with me?”

You look towards the floor, and then back at him: “Yeah, sure. Is this Doris Day?”

Jeongguk seems pleased as he leads you. He takes a center position, caring little about the potential attention he may attract by taking your waist. It doesn’t stop him from doing so, a smile in your hair as he begins the dance.

“Glad you know it,” Jeongguk replies. “I spent a lot of time with my Aunt when I was younger. She loved this song.”

You hum quietly, “She has good taste. I think this song is in that one Tonya Harding movie.”

“Probably,” he scoffs, kissing your hair again and curling an arm tighter around your middle. He is certainly attracting unwanted eyes. In a metaphorical perspective, this is your first dance. Might be your only dance, but Jeongguk’s not trying to wish away the moment, not just yet.

(15) Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Bad dream. Not you. Tonight, Jeongguk is a victim. 

He shoots himself awake before you have a time to sit up on your elbows, and he pants loudly, searching around the mattress for a weapon but instead, he finds your hands. Jeongguk jumps.

“It’s just me,” you tell him breathlessly, staring at his wide and wild eyes. He gasps, like he forgot you were even there, but calms when he scurries to take your hand in his own.

Jeongguk hates to feel like he needs help, but tonight, he seeks you first. He slides his hands around yours and finds his grip, remembering where and who and presses a kiss to your hand as you lift it to his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “bad dream. I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quietly, now sitting upright. “You never have to say sorry, okay? It’s okay.”

“Mhm,” he agrees half-heartedly. “I’m gonna….get a drink, or something.”

He rises from the bed and quite literally stumbles to the door, coughing the dryness from his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen. From the bed you sit and watch him leave, knowing from routine that when he comes back, he’ll lie awake, stoney, and won’t rest until the morning. He won’t sleep for the remainder of the night, and he’ll sleep in the office.

Jeongguk never talks of his nightmares. He never tells you about the recurring dreams of his past, his past lovers or friends or family. You know that the dreams must be so bad that he pretends to sleep to keep you from worrying. 

He never tells you that he gets them most when you sleep over, because the more aware he is of you beside him, the more he dreams of losing you.

(16) Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

There was no contract for your arrangement with Jeongguk. You were part of a very complicated sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, and there were never really any rules to it. You could fall in love with him all you wanted, but all Jeongguk had made clear from the first date was that he didn’t fall easily, and wasn’t seeing you to fall in love. If you fell for him, he didn’t really care. He’d never fall back. (Right?)

Despite there being no rules, you still always felt like taking photos with Jeongguk often felt like a breach of contract, like breaking the rules. Jeongguk had already shown you off to the world of Mafia and crime at the Somber-Rain Ball, but yet you were afraid to take a photo for your own gallery.

There was one, however, that Jeongguk had taken himself and sent to you when he was on a trip in Athens. It was a slightly dark and blurry photograph, from early when you two had met and Jeongguk felt like he had to get you to stay sometimes by playing the role of a lover. In the photo, his fingers are ghosting at your sides, his face is scrunched and in a smile and you’re rolling around on the covers. It’s a live photo, so it moves for a few seconds.

Jeongguk had made you laugh almost to the point of tears, and you can probably still remember the feeling of knots in your stomach, your voice threatening to pee on his bed if he didn’t pack it in. He stopped, reluctantly. He didn’t want to see you pee. He didn’t want you to cry, either.

Back then, he had been generous to avoid tears. (What changed?)

(17) Folding their clean laundry and putting it away.

It’s been a long day. That was obvious by the way Jeongguk called you at two, and didn’t even want to do anything once you got here. Just got home. Are you free, maybe? Like an idiot, you came.

His place was a sight for sore eyes; by the front door, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes, and a pile of cluster and mess led a trail to his bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the way he lay with his face down on the covers, feet hanging off the bed stiffly, the curtains drawn, city blaring, TV on a quite volume relaying the emergency call made to the police this morning about the death of Cho Minsu, one of Seoul’s most controversial politicians.

For a few minutes, you remain in the doorway and he remains unmoved.

“...and, although the call made to the police department this morning was made anonymously, the leader of the police department, Choi Seungkwan, seems to believe that the call was made by at least one of the rumoured underground organisations within this city. Just last week, the Twin Tiger Mafia were making headlines after a fire was caused in the center of Seoul, but there have been no confirmations from the police at this time, nor has a statement been issued by the President. One witness said it was the work of one man, which leads the authorities to believe that this is the involvement of a third party.”

Jeongguk appears glum by the news but doesn’t switch it off. As he wallows in his own self despair, you turn back towards the main section of his home and take in the mess. There’s a smashed frame on the floor, and the kitchen is disgustingly overcrowded with dishes, and ashtrays that are like mountains. The living room is cold and empty and clothes hang over the back of his couch. Here, you find not only his clothes from the night before but also the suit from the ball, as well as underwear you know isn’t yours.

Quietly, and without a fuss, you reach for the unknown underwear and with your hand tucked underneath one of his clothes, you scoop them up and toss them into the washer in the kitchen. The ashtray is cleaned, the dishes are put in the dishwasher, and the curtains are drawn. Jeongguk must be asleep by the time you come into his bedroom, carrying the clothes you folded for him to set away in his cupboards.

This will be the second time you have cried in his bedroom while he was sleeping, and as he sleeps, peaceful and perhaps even remorseful, you return back to the front door and slip into your shoes.

(18) Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You dream of him.

It’s the night of the ball. As you’re in the arms of Taehyung, stuck in a dance that will make you look less like a trophy wife for Jeongguk, the man himself is stuck in a conversation near the bar. Probably halfway through the waltz, you manage to lock his gaze. It’s like a movie, where the characters meet in slow motion, and everything seems to be slower and more passionate. All he does is smile, so gently and softly that it doesn’t even look like him.

It’s gone and he’s back to a straight face in conversation before you know it, but it’s enough for you to dream about it. Maybe this time, you’ll add a little bit to it, and create a new story to replace the original. One where the circumstances might be different, or the song, or the man you’re with.

(19) Bringing them a plate of their favourite sliced fruit.

“...what the fuck is a ‘BARB’, again? Surely not the Barbs, right? Right?”

Slowly but surely, you may be going insane behind this computer screen. You woke up in a cold sweat to the assumption your paper was due today, only by happy surprise to figure out it’s due next week, on a totally different day. It was eight, the sun was shining, and all Jeongguk can hear as he wakes up is keys tapping away relentlessly.

He stretches his arms and moves from the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and as if he owns the place (although if he’s being technical, he does) he heads to the shower and gets himself cleaned for the day he has planned ahead. Jeongguk showers, brushes his teeth and jumps into the clothes he came here in. By the time he’s out, he has time to poke his head into your makeshift study, which used to be a laundry room before the bastard thing broke and you had it moved to the bathroom instead. You’re still working, one leg up folded and a string of swear words leaving your mouth as you stare at the blinking word document.

Jeongguk frowns, nonetheless unsurprised by your antics. Ever since you went back to school, he’s been seeing less of you. Truthfully, it’s fine; Jeongguk is more than used to being alone and he doesn’t like to spend too much time with you. Not because he doesn’t like to, but quite actually for the opposite reason. Jeongguk likes you too much that he’s afraid he’ll give more than he wants to get back. Why fall in love when he can’t afford to?

Jeongguk moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Sucking his teeth, he closes the fridge and grabs two apples from the bowl near the kettle. He twists the little device he found from your drawer and removes the stalk for both, cutting shapes out of the fruit into a bowl. He tosses the utensils into the washing up bowl for you to tackle later when you inevitably procrastinate, and before he leaves to go to work, Jeongguk heads back towards where you sit and brings the bowl just in between your hands, in front of the keyboard.

You look up with alarm as he does this, frightened because he came in so silently. He smiles quickly, innocent, and leans forward to kiss you. He tastes like toothpaste.

“Morning, gotta go, though,” he says in a hurry.

Before he moves back, you lean up and steal a second kiss, “so early?”

“Mm, I have to go to work,” Jeongguk replies.

You glance at the fruit. “Did you cut this?”

“Yep. I know it’s so hard to chop fruit, but I did it all by myself,” he jokes. He kisses you a third time, “Really gotta go. Don’t call me ‘til you finish this fucking paper.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” you grumble, turning to the screen with a frown. Jeongguk smiles to himself and ruffles your hair, just before he steps out of the office and leaves you in the silence, collecting his things and leaving before Taehyung threatens to put a bounty on his head for being late to work again.

(20) Washing their back/hair in the shower.

“Fuck, shower sex sucks ass.”

You turn around, almost offended. “What?”

Jeongguk laughs loudly in the comforts of his own bathroom, leaning for a shampoo off the shelf. “I’m not saying you’re bad, I’m just saying it sucks. It’s so...slippery and hard.”

“I thought you liked it,” you reply.

He shrugs.

“Then why the fuck do you insist on it,” you sigh, spinning and leaning for the bottle. He moves it away, “Don’t be stingy.”

“I’m gonna wash your hair for you,” Jeongguk explains, squirting a generous amount into his hands. “Turn back around, love when your ass is against my dick like that.”

You roll your eyes and do as he says. He’s a kidder after he fucks you. Probably a pride thing because he knows he’s done a good job. Jeongguk massages the shampoo into your hair and inhales the scent, because it’s a new seasalt fragrance he saw on Youtube when he was looking at interviews for this one super secret guy he’s after, and apparently Adblock for Safari is shitty and never blocks ads on videos.

“Smells good,” you compliment. “Buy this for your other bitches, or just for me?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Nah, they got the banana one.”

“I thought you hated that fragrance.”

“That’s why they have it and not you,” he says simply. You don’t know whether or not the reply satisfies you. For one, it tells you that you’re his favourite, but it also tells you that he is indeed fucking other girls, which is something you were never totally thrilled to accept or believe. It conflicts you, to the point where you’re silent as he washes your hair.

“What?” Jeongguk asks finally, pulling at your head and half forcing your face to him. “You mad?”

“No,” you reply. “You done with my hair?”

He lets go, “Yeah. Just rinse it out.”

You do that, staring at the little drops of water on the shower door. Jeongguk sighs and switches positions with you, staring at your shoulders as you wash the shampoo out.

“Are you really mad?” he asks.

You sigh, “I’m not mad, Jeongguk.” You peer at him, “promise.”

“Bullshit,” he exclaims, like he’s tired. “I thought you knew I saw other people.”

“I did,” you lie. “It’s fine, really. I’m not, like, judging you for it.”

“Why’s it feel like you kind of are?” Jeongguk asks in response.

You shrug, “You tell me.”

The bathroom’s cold as the shower switches off and Jeongguk leaves first, stepping into the living room with the towel around his waist as you get dressed into a gown in the bathroom.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you exit, turning off the light and looking for your clothes around the room. He tugs, sick and frowning, and so he slowly moves for you across the bedroom. As you’re looking down at your clothes curled up on the chair by his drawers, Jeongguk snakes his arms around your waist from behind and slowly brings you up against him.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent yourself from saying something, and he kisses behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him.

“You know you’re a bad liar,” he mutters. “That’s why you’ll be a good journalist, you’re too good at telling the truth.” You resign, knowing he’s said this speech before. “You can be honest with me.”

You turn in his arms. “Look. I’m not mad. Mad’s not the word. Disappointed, maybe, but life is full of disappointments, you know? I mean. I don’t know...I moved across the city just to live next to you because you asked me to, I thought it could be easier for us to both get what we want out of each other and so it just...kind of sucks that you need other people? It’s like, am I not filling the gaps enough? I thought sugar daddies only had one baby at a time, I thought they were lonely old men.”

“Do I look old to you?” Jeongguk asks, missing the point. Only he knows the point. “And, look. You bring out the best in me. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Guk,” you lament, “but I just see you, and this guy who wants more than he has. It’s sucky, for me, I guess.”

He thinks on that for a second. “You’re not just a baby for me, you know that, I know that, everybody knows that. I don’t even pay you when we see each other anymore, you can’t tell me that’s the same thing we expected to have a few months ago, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But, what?” he questions. “I’m here right now because I chose to be, and because being with you just feels...natural, I guess. I don’t like just calling you to fuck for five minutes because I got stressed out at work. You’re more than that to me.”

It struggles to settle in your stomach, and he stares down at you almost pleadingly. “You know that. You do, come on.”

“Baby...Look. If I was natural, and if I was more to you than a baby, then you wouldn’t need to be calling other people when you’re stressed. If you really needed me, you’d need me. It’s that simple.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting go, “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Guk, it is that simple,” you murmur. You smile at him, because you don’t want him to feel too bad about it. He simply stares at you, saying nothing as you look back at your clothes. “I have class tomorrow, so I’m gonna head home.”

He says nothing.

“Good night, Guk,” you call from the front door a few minutes later. He doesn’t reply, and the silence does it for him.