#john wick fan fic

[97keanu]

desperately wanting john wick to whisper filthy things to me in russian

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I love this idea nonnie ! I have decided to do a list of phrases I've found + what scenario John would say them to you, disclaimer: I do not speak Russian, but I've tried to go beyond using just Google translate and the like, but there still may be discrepancies, please forgive ʚ♥︎ɞ

Tags/CW: rope bunny, Dom!JW, Sub!Reader, bratty!reader, bdsm-esque, reader tries to Dom JW, reader on top, teasing, denial, dirty talk.

Зайка моя ("My bunny"): John calls you this the most, he loves the idea of you being his little bunny, and he also likes that he can get away with calling you something so cute because you have no idea at first what he's saying. Light teasing from you when you find out he's been calling you his "bunny" for so long:

"Oh, so if I'm your little bunny, does that make you the big bad wolf?" You say with a smile, teasing John for his pet name for you.

"Oh yes, yes it does..." John plays along, moving close enough to you that he grab you from behind and pull you close.

"Don't forget that wolves bite, Зайка моя..." His teeth nibble at your neck before dragging you, who's giggling from all the attention, off to the bedroom.

мое солнышко ("My sunshine"): John calls you this after sex the most, or only in the most tender of cases. He really does believe you are his own personal ball of sun. He hasn't felt this happy in so long, and upon meeting you, he knows that you are the light in his life. John doesn't mind if you know it, either. He calls you his sun in English as well, but when you two are cuddled up, the night settling in, John will sleepily call you "мое солнышко".

моя принцесса ("My princess"): John uses this one almost exclusively when you're being a brat, typically in bed. He calls you this half sarcastically, half because he really will do anything to please you.

"What are you going to do, make me, John?" You tease him when he tries to command you. You really shouldn't have done that.

"Careful, моя принцесса, you know what happens when you tease me." Johns voice is trying to be gruff, but he also loves seeing you have fun. Only after a few more bratty comments does he finally show his princess how she really needs to be treated.

ш��юха ("whore") / шлюшка(diminutive "little whore"): John uses this one often, forgetting himself while he's fucking you. You know this one too well, and when he says it, you love how degrading it sounds. He tells you most while he holds the back of your head roughly down on his cock how much you look like a "шлюшка" to him. He eventually teaches you how to say it as well:

"I won't let you cum until you tell me what you are..." John has his hands skillfully playing with your pussy while you're all tied up in a little bow for him on the bed. You know what he wants, but don't want to give in. His hands move just perfectly so you get so close, but stop just before then. Your moans echo through the room.

"I'll wait, we can play this game forever, love." John knows you know this to be true, he works his big hands inside you harder now, and you can barely sputter the phrase out.

"Yes, please! I'm your шлюха, your шлюшка!" You cry out as John finishes you, your body writhing in it's restraints. John looks so pleased with you for saying it correctly.

"Good girl." He says as he begins to help you calm down.

Для меня ты ведешь себя как маленькая шлюха ("You're acting like such a little whore for me." Literally: "To me, you are acting like a little whore.")

John says this when you're particularly submissive to him. Sometimes you're a bit of a brat who wants to act like she doesn't love being John's little rope bunny, but now you're practically begging him to fuck you. You're riding his thigh, he's fully clothed but you've taken your panties off from under your dress and are making such a mess of his nice dress pants. He watches you, never revealing whether or not he will be the one to please you tonight.

"Для меня ты ведешь себя как маленькая шлюха..." He says while rolling his eyes, taking a sip of his drink and watching as you desperately try to get off on his thigh. He finally caves and puts his glass down on the side table, lifting you up and taking you to the couch where he can properly fuck you.

я хочу быть сверху("I want to be on top."):

You spend some time searching up the perfect way to tell John that you want to be on top tonight. You know he will be coming home from a long day and want to do something to please him. The brat in you also knows that John will be thrilled at you attempting "superiority" over him. When John finally gets home, he is immediately taking off his suit, ignoring how dirty and blood stained it is. He grabs you as soon as he sees you, pulling you to the nearest surface he can to fuck you, which happens to be the couch. As John's devouring your body in kisses, you say it.

"я хочу быть сверху..." You whisper and John pauses, looking at you in disbelief for a moment. First, he is impressed by how well you said the phrase, then his eyes darken with a hint of mischief.

"So you want to be on top..." He says slyly, licking his lips like a hungry wolf. "So be it, let me see how well you think you can dominate me."

"You mean it?" Your eyes light up, half of you didn't expect him to agree.

"On one condition, if you fail to fuck me correctly, I will tie you up and show you how it's done..." His voice is deep and husky with desire, and you know he's setting you up, but the idea of him tying you up later doesn't sound like a bad thing, not really. You nod and begin placing yourself on top, slowly easing up there.

You hold his cock still as you softly let it enter you, and John already has a wicked gleam in his eyes. You keep going, placing your hands on his chest and trying to ride him as if you're the one dominating him, but even at your best on top you're still submitting to his cock. John grabs his tie from the floor and you already know what he is going to do, so you place your hands out in front of you. He ties your hands up, then takes your hips and fucks you from underneath so hard the neighbors can hear it. You realise you can never dominate him, but that doesn't stop you from asking to be on top from time to time after this.

Я ХОЧУ ТЕБЯ ВНУТРИ МЕНЯ("I want you inside me.")

You learn another phrase, this one more your style. John is teasing you once more, his cock hard and slipping through your wet folds, but never entering you. You're whining, grinding your hips and bucking to try to invite him in, but your arms are all tied up behind you. He has your breasts tied as well, bringing them to perfect roundness. John reaches out and plays with your nipples, plucking at them and pulling just how you like, still not letting you feel the fullness of his cock. You are at your breaking point when you remember the phrase.

"Я ХОЧУ ТЕБЯ ВНУТРИ МЕНЯ...!" You finally moan, your back arching and your toes curling from how badly you want it. John pauses and smiles.

"Oh, you're such a good girl for asking like that." he says, before plunging his cock deep inside you, giving you what you want. You breathe out, finally able to be fucked hard like you wanted.

#john wick x reader #john wick fan fic #john wick drabble #john wick imagine #ask lila #my writing #••• ◛ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁱˡ!

[johnwickb1tsch]

Some fanart for the Tex and John fic 🫣

::shouts into a bullhorn::

WE HAVE FAN ART, Y'ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Omg, this is too perfect, teeee! You captured the dichotomies of their expressions perfectly. A+, very nice, good shit, good shit! :)))))))))))))

@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake

#i can't even #this fic is rotting my brain #i love it! #bravo! #fan art #check this shit out! #john wick #tex johnson #john wick x reader #tex johnson x reader #john wick x you #tex johnson x you #john wick fan art #tex johnson fan art #yandere john wick #yandere tex johnson

[layce2015]

John Wick Chapter 4 (John Wick x Female!Reader) Masterlist

With the price on his head ever increasing, legendary hit man John Wick and his wife, (y/n), take their fight against the High Table global as they seek out the most powerful players in the underworld, from New York to Paris to Japan to Berlin.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #john wick chapter 4 #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick #john wick fandom #keanu reeves #fan fic update #movie fan fiction #fan fic writing #masterlist

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Ghosts

Summary: A phone call from a stranger with news about a man from a life you had left behind a long time ago, brings back many memories, making you travel from France to New York City for one last time. Only for a promise made twenty years ago to wait for you once you are back home.

Pairing: John Wick x fem. reader

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: !! spoilers for John Wick Chapter 4 !! do not read this if you don't want to be spoiled for the movie (this is an attempt on a fix it fic lmao), guns, death, angst, fluff

A/N: yeah I know it's been 84 years but here I am with my silly little John Wick fic, trying to make sense of the movie I watched two days ago. Summary is a lil vague cause spoilers

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for new fic updates

You jumped awake, uncertain what it was that woke you up. 

Groaning your eyes found the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table, showing you that it was just after 3 am. Was it a nightmare? You had those, even though not as frequently as before. Out of instinct you reached under your bed, finding the familiar shape of your gun still in place. 

You hadn’t actually used a gun in almost twenty years, yet knowing it was there gave you a sense of safety, your mind wandering to the last time you had used it. 

The night you died. 

The night you left your old life. 

The night he killed you. 

Your life had been planned out for you before you even took your first breath. You were the future head of the Ruska Roma, your fathers pride and joy. 

You never had a choice in that matter. 

You learned hundreds of ways to kill a person, had material art lessons daily followed by lessons learning every single detail about the high table and your family's enemies, making you a killing machine before you even turned thirteen years old. 

It was on your thirteenth birthday that you met John Wick for the first time. 

He was older than you, at least ten years, but there was something in his eyes that seemed familiar to you. It was the same look you saw every day when you looked into the mirror. Sadness, Anger, Emptiness. 

He spent a year working exclusively for your father, doing his dirty work, before he disappeared like a ghost into the night. 

Almost twelve years would pass before you and John would meet again.

He became a friend, if you had friends in the world you had been born into. Maybe even your only friend. And so much more. He trained you, his reputation proceeding him, his name only whispered in the underground as if he would appear out of thin air if you dared to speak out his name. 

Spending time with John became an escape to the ever lingering pressure all around you, your personal challenge becoming to make him crack the facade he put on, for just a tiny glimpse at the man behind the myth.

It was when your father announced your engagement to another future member of the high table, catching you totally off guard, that gave you finally the strength to plan your way out. 

You knew survival was almost impossible. 

So you had to die. 

And who better to help you make your death believable than the boogeyman himself?

Shaking your head out of the memory of John, blinking away the many pictures of his soft smile as you woke up in his arms day after day before you disappeared you sighed. 

It had been almost twenty years since you last saw him, since he promised once he got out for good he would find you, but sometimes you still found yourself thinking about him. He had been your best friend and so much more. The first man you kissed, the first man you slept with. 

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it, your eyes frowning at the foreign number. 

“Hello?” you said. 

A sigh was heard on the other end of the line. 

“This is… My name is Winston and I am calling for Jonathan Wick….”

Getting to New York undetected must have been the single most anxious task of your life. You hadn’t been back here since you kissed your former life goodbye. 

But it was John. 

And Winston, who you learned was the Manager of the New York Continental Hotel, assured you that your safety would be assured if you chose to travel to John’s funeral. 

“John and I may have had our issues, but he made me promise to keep an eye on you if anything would ever happen to him,” he had told you. 

It was from him that you learned that even though you hadn’t talked or seen John since that night, John had very much kept up with you and your life. To make sure you were always safe. 

You learned that he got out too before because he fell in love, got married to the woman he loved before she died from a long illness, the aftermath of that sucking him back into the underworld where he fought for his freedom before he eventually found it and died on the steps of the Sacré-Cœur in Paris. 

Only two hours away from the small town you had called home for the last couple of years. 

You weren’t prepared how much the news of his death would hurt. 

While learning that he got out for another woman hurt when you first learned about it, in the end you were happy he got to experience love and life apart from the underworld.

Sure, he could have died without you knowing it since you lost contact. But knowing that he still cared about you even after all these years, made you so fucking sad and happy at the same time. 

Winston and someone who named himself the Bowery King (you did not ask any questions) had left you alone at the graveyard, a trusted security detail from Winston staying behind as you stood under the umbrella facing John Wick’s grave. 

Loving husband it read beneath his name.

It brought a small smile to your lips. 

When you were younger you always pictured him when you dreamed of getting married. But that was all it was. 

A dream. 

John Wick was the first man you loved, maybe the only man you really loved. 

“I hope you found your peace, Jonathan,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over his gravestone, before you set down a single rose on his stone and on Helen’s. His wife’s. 

You blinked away the tears.

“Thank you for keeping me safe,” you said with a sad smile on your lips before you slowly turned around and walked back to your car. 

It was early morning when the car drove through the tiny town of La Mare just on the coast of France. 

Was it totally insane taking a risky twenty four hour trip to New York City for a funeral of a man you hadn’t talked to in twenty years?

Yes. 

But you would do it again. 

You thanked the driver with a tired smile, watching him drive away as you searched for your keys in your purse. 

You had stayed to have a drink with Winston and meet with a lawyer from whom you learned that John had put you in his last will, making you the sole heir to everything he owned in case his wife died before him. 

After you had been driven back to the private airstrip where you took the private jet you had arrived with back to europe.

You just wanted to lay down and cry, the rollercoaster of feelings you had gone through since your phone call with Winston just two days ago still not really setting in. 

You unlocked the door, letting your bag fall down in the hallway as you shut the door behind you, leaning with your back against the door, taking a deep breath. 

This was so fucking silly. 

Why were you so heartbroken about a man you had said goodbye to before?

You got out of your shoes, walking down the long hallway towards the kitchen half asleep. You blamed it on that you did not hear the noise until you were walking through the door, stopping in your tracks at the man currently fighting with your coffee maker. 

Instinct set in and you silently walked to the table closest to you, intent on grabbing your gun when you found it gone. 

“If you’re looking for your gun, it’s right here,” your head turned towards the man who had now turned around, his head nodding towards your big kitchen Island where your gun was laying. 

Your eyes flew from him to the gun, before you looked at him again, your lips parting in a gasp. 

“John?” you whispered in disbelief. 

Slowly he walked towards you, limped really, before he came to a stop in front of you. 

He was older, his dark hair longer than the last time you had seen him. He was wearing sweatpants and a white shirt and you could see the bandages beneath it from where he must be hurt.

“I told you I would find you once I got out for good,” he said carefully, but you just kept looking at him like he was a ghost. A ghost from your past.

“Hope you don’t mind, I let myself in.”

“I... I was at your funeral,” you whispered. 

“I was at yours too,” he said. 

“You got married,” you said. He nodded. 

“But now you’re here.”

“But now I’m here.”

You took a step towards him, carefully reaching out, your hand coming to rest on his chest, just above his heart. 

“It’s been a long time,” you whispered. 

“Yeah.”

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other,” you said. He nodded.

“You wanna have breakfast and tell me all about it?” you asked. 

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

#my fic #John Wick #John Wick x fem. reader #Keanu Reeves #John Wick Chapter 4 spoilers #spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[dreamer-oriented-express-1]

Lara Gets Saved By John Wick…

(Using my OC for this one…hope you don’t mind!)

(MOVIE FRANCHISE: “JOHN WICK”)

(Made in 3rd person!)

(Long!)

(John Wick x Female OC)

Rating: PG-13 for…Some gun violence, brief action, but really fluffy towards the end!

John Wick knew this had to be his last job, given the circumstances of wanting to retire. Every job he took ended up being more brutal than the last. But this certain job he took has to be the most brutal yet. Driving in his Mustang sports car, he’s on his way to London, where a mob gang is currently on the rise—trading off goods and weapons. Just as he arrived upon this manor-like hotel, his phone starts ringing beside him. He quickly reaches over to grab the phone and answers it. “I see you made it to London…”, It was the Don, the man who hired him for this job on the line. He had spoken those words into the phone, making John sigh slightly. “Yeah…what’s their intel?”, John had asked as he stepped out of his car. “Well, this British mob is just doing their usuals, taking what they want, taking what they need…but they’ve kidnapped someone in the mix…”, John stops in his walking into hearing what Don just said. “Who?”, “This woman…she’s a tourist…her name is Lara I believe…Lara Marleen…”, “Alright…I’ll be on my way…”, “Happy Hunting, Mr. Wick…”, John closes the call, tucking his phone into his suit pocket. Knowing where some mob scouts might be secretly hiding, he goes down this alleyway that’s nearby, taking a small shortcut. He comes upon this area in the alleyway, seeing there were these two parked white vans. One guy standing near the van took notice of John’s presence as his eyes widened in fear. “He’s here! He’s here you guys! Get the guns!”, He calls out, having the other men who were standing around quickly scatter about to the back of their vans to grab their weapons. One tries to fire upon John, but he was able to dodge and shoot him back, quickly pulling out his handy handgun, making him fall limp to the ground. Two guys ran up to John, trying to hit on him, but John evaded those punches, giving some punches of his own before kicking both of them in the legs and shooting them down. There was one more guy left, who tries to fire willingly towards John. He takes cover behind the white van as he tries to fire back. He looks over to see the guy running from his hiding spot. He aims his gun out at him, shooting him in the leg. The guy falls to the ground, shouting in pain. John quickly stands as he goes over to him, kneeling down as he forces him over and pulls him by the collar of his hoodie. “Where is she?”, “I don’t know who you’re talkin’ about man!”, John uses his gun to fire a bullet near his head, serving it as a threat to kill him as the guy flinches in reaction. “Alright! Okay! She’s at the estate building! Near the Central Bank!”, John only sighs to himself as he stands to his feet and shoots him, killing him instantly as he goes limp. John may have an idea on where that estate building is!

He goes over to one of the vans, hopping in as he takes the keys sitting in the cupholder and turns on the ignition. He makes his way to the estate building, seeing there were a good number of guards standing by the entrance. He eventually parks the van, hopping out as he goes towards the back to open it, finding a lot of weapons. He grabs the biggest gun there is, which was a rifle-like shot gun, slinging that onto his back as takes some usual handguns, shoving them into his waistband. Once he thought he had enough weapons, he strides his way to the entrance, grabbing those goons’ attention. All of them started firing at him, initiating a shootout. John takes cover behind this pillar, loading up his first handgun. He leans over, taking a few out before quickly running to a new hiding spot, dodging a few bullets along the way. He slings off his big rifle-like shotgun, loading in some bullets. He leans over, shooting and taking out the rest. Once there was silence, he tosses the rifle-like shotgun to the side before reloading his other handguns he had on him, making his way inside the building. Weirdly, there weren’t any goons guarding the lobby and nobody around! John rushes up a flight of stairs, kicking down this door as he aims out his handgun in front of him. One goon who was waiting on the side for him attempts to ambush him, swiping him with his pocketknife. But John was quick to dodge that as he kicks and punches him to the floor. He was then able to shoot him down, having him go limp. John continues exploring the floor he is on, having this gut feeling that Lara might be here. He came upon this hallway, hiding behind the corner of the wall as he looks over to see a door that was heavily guarded by two tough looking guys. John quickly thinks of a way on how to get rid of them. He pats on his pockets to feel two smoke bombs on him. Apparently, he forgot he packed those! He takes them, throwing them towards the guards as the bombs started spewing out smoke, with the guards coughing in reaction. John loads up his handgun as he turns and shoots both of them down. He kicks open the door they were guarding as he sweeps that room before coming upon another locked door. He fires his gun upon the locked doorknob, kicking it open. In the middle of the room sits a woman, tied up with ropes. John shoves his gun into his waistband as he goes over to untie her. He takes off the blindfold she’s wearing as the woman looks to see her savior. “You’re Lara, right?”, John asked, untying the ropes around her legs. “Um…yeah…”, John was able to untie all the ropes as Lara stands up, backing away slightly. “Y-you…you’re him! I’ve heard rumors about you…”, John nods, smirking faintly. “I get that a lot…”, Lara smirks back, taking a look at her surroundings. John takes one of his handguns, grasping it by the tip as he gestures it to Lara. “Do you know how to shoot?”, Lara looks to the gun, feeling a swell of anxiety. She was able to take it from him as she examined the gun in her hands. “I guess so…”, John only nods as he walks out of the room with Lara following after. Coming back upon the lobby area, John sees that it’s full of goons. He takes cover behind this big pillar with Lara taking cover as well beside him. “You ready?”, John had asked, seeing Lara only respond with a nod.

John then leans over and takes a few shots, instantly taking out a few of them. Lara leans over, taking aim at one, but before she could fire a shot, one goon fires back, making Lara hide back behind the pillar. “I can’t!”, John looks over, seeing Lara was getting more anxious than before. He leans over again, taking out a few. He quickly grabs Lara’s hand as they run to a new hiding spot. John takes his handgun to reload it as he takes Lara’s hand to squeeze if firmly. “I promise I’ll get you out of here…just stay close, okay?”, Lara swallows nervously as she nods, tightening her grip on the gun handle. John nods back as he lets go of her, leaning over to take out a few more, along with the goons firing back. Lara took a moment before leaning over, quickly taking out a few as well. “Good, you’re doing great…”, John says those words to Lara, making her smile slightly. After the lobby was cleared of those goons, John grabs onto Lara’s hand again as they both try to leave the building, only to hear a gunshot ring in the background. John flinches slightly at the sound, looking to himself to see he wasn’t hit. But he quickly turns to Lara, seeing her face morph into shock and discomfort. John only takes one look to where she was holding onto her side, seeing blood was slowly seeping through her fingers. “Damn it! She got hit!”, A thought rushes through his mind. Lara staggers to the floor, but John was there to catch her in time before she did. John lays her gently against the wall, out of harm’s way as he quickly stands, looking to see the shooter standing there at the top of the staircase lobby. He raises his gun to shoot again as John takes cover behind this pillar. “Don’t do this to yourself John! It’ll only make things worse!”, the gunman had spoken out. John reloads his gun again as he leans over and tries to fire towards him, but the gunman was quick to fire back, as John leaves from his hiding spot, running over to this counter for more coverage. He peers over, seeing the gunman was only hiding behind this pillar. Without the gunman looking, John quietly moves over to the pillar to the catch him by surprise. He tackles the gunman to the ground as he struggles to take the gun from him. The gunman tries to fire upon him as John was able to rip the gun from the gunman, flinging it across the lobby. They both still continue to struggle, as the gunman now topples onto John, attempting to choke on him. Lara was seeing this unfold as her eyes wander about, developing this sudden sense that she should intervene. She looks beside her to see her gun that John gave her as she reaches over to grab it. “Mister Wick!”, Lara calls out with John looking over briefly to see a gun sliding towards him. He was able to grab it as he used his weight to topple himself back onto the gunman, firing two bullets into his skull. John catches his breath before standing, walking over to Lara as he nods to her. “Thanks…”, Lara smiles to him, nodding back. “You’re welcome…”, John shoves the gun into his waistband as he helps Lara to her feet. “Let’s get you to a hospital…”, John was able to walk her outside and take an unoccupied car nearby, driving Lara to the hospital.

*TIMESKIP*

Lara walks out of the hospital, back to being in good condition as well as being patched up, with her side wrapped up in gauze. Being stuck in the hospital for two weeks took a small toll on her, but she felt relieved that she was able to leave with no complications. She looks around to see a familiar car waiting on the side of the walkway. There stands John Wick, leaning against his car, patiently waiting. Lara smiles at his presence as she walks over to him, having John look over to see her walking towards him. Once she stood in front of him, her smile turns shyly. “I wanna thank you…for saving me, Mister Wick…”, John only shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank me…I’m just doing what I need to do…”, Lara’s smile widens a little. “Still…I have to owe you something!”, “No need…”, Lara only nods as she quickly goes up to him, wrapping her arms around John’s neck, with his body stiffening up slightly. He was stiff for a few moments as he was able to relax. The thought of his wife and how she would had hugged him rushed through his mind as he was able to hug her back around her middle. The hug was brief as Lara releases herself from him, seeing John’s small faint smile. Lara steps back as she pretends to clear her throat, feeling embarrassment shoot up throughout her body. John gestures to his car behind him. “At least let me get you back home…I can pay…”, Lara’s eyes widened at what he said. “Umm…okay! Thanks!”, John nods to her as he goes over to open the passenger door, with Lara sitting herself into the car. John closes the door, going over to the driver’s side as he hops in after and starts up the engine. Lara was able to return home with no difficult or hiccup, with John feeling satisfied of completing yet another mission. Saving a life. John now stands there, staring out of this big window to see the plane Lara had boarded on start to leave and lift off the runway, back to America. John sighs to himself as he leaves out of the airport, making his own way across the country of London, heading into the unknown, heading into his next mission!

The End!❤️

Leave a like if you did…I tried my best with this as I know John’s the type of guy that follows a motto of “Actions speak louder than words”! Lol…and yes, I watched all 4 movies, and I loved them!

✌️😊✌️

#my fanfiction #fan fic writing #john wick #john wick franchise #john wick fandom #john wick x oc #x oc #orginal character #female original character #hope you enjoy #leave a like

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter Twenty

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Warnings: some profanity.

*Includes Extraction 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @theesirenteller @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @thebejeweledwatercat @kmc1989 @karimac @themaradwrites @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/127894162

My tag list is open!! Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

Chapter Summary: Tyler Rake, John Wick, and Alcott walk into a bar...

*****

They make quite the threesome in The Continental lounge. Wick with his American drawl, infamous slicked-back hair, and all-black attire, Alcott with his crisp English accent, neatly tailored pants, and cashmere sweater, and Tyler in his ‘casual best’. A simple black Henley shirt and well-worn and faded, olive green cargo pants he’s had for years; tattered around the cuffs and sporting holes in the side pockets.

Three entirely different yet somehow similar men; a combination of unique backgrounds yet familiar circumstances. Their lives filled with loss and heartbreak, and their hands drenched in the blood of many.

And their bank accounts much fuller because of it.

“Now explain this to me again,” Alcott implores from his middle seat at the bar, nursing the remains of his drink. “Like I’m a three-year-old. Because the information is just not getting through. You’re not telling her WHY?”

Sighing, Tyler takes a sip of water. “It’s not that we’re NEVER going to tell her. It’s just that we’re waiting.”

“Waiting for what? Hell to freeze over? Pigs to fly? Just what are you waiting for?”

“For the right time.”

“And just what constitutes the ‘right time’? The child’s existed for nearly five years. She’s been asking about her father for almost a full two of those. If you ask me, there’s no time like the present. She already admitted to loving you. What more do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter if she already loves me or not. Esme and I agreed; that we'd hold off on saying anything.”

“But why? If the little one is already this attached to you and you…by my brief albeit brilliant observation… are already attached to her…”

“She’s been through enough. I mean, it’s been a hell of a four days for US and we’re grown-ass adults. She’s not even five. A baby still.”

“Baby or not, she’s resilient as hell and stronger than either of you are giving her credit for. You don’t think it would be a welcome surprise? In the midst of all the bullshit? Don’t you think it wouldn’t give her something to smile about? To learn you’re her dad?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“It matters a hell of a lot. It’s your damn swimmers that helped make the child. You’ve got more of a say in this than you realize. Don’t be a pussy, Rake. I know you love the woman, but stand up for yourself. Tell her to shit or get off the pot.”

Smirking, Tyler sips at his water. “You saying something bad about Esme? Of all people?

“I’m not saying anything bad about her. I’m simply saying she’s being foolish. That this is all just a bunch of horseshit. There’s no reason to keep it from her. It’s not like it’s horrible news. For either of you.”

“You gonna say all that to Esme’s face? Tell her she’s making a mistake? Being foolish?”

“No. And you’re not going to tell her I said it, either. I’d prefer to keep my balls exactly where they are, thank you very much. And you…” He nudges Wick with his elbow. “...does any of this make sense to you?”

In response, Wick bobs his head from side to side, then shrugs his shoulders.

“What the hell is that…” Alcott mimics the gesture. “... supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t have a horse in this race. I’m just here to listen. To support. Not throw my two cents in.”

“How very diplomatic of you. I hope you’re not going to be like this when we get out onto the street. All passive and shit. I can barely carry my own weight most days, I don’t need to be carrying yours as well.”

“Job me and ‘real life me’ are two totally different people.”

“You must have an opinion. One way or another. Does it make sense to you, or is it just the stupidest damn thing you’ve ever heard of?”

“My opinion means nothing. I’m not taking sides in this. I’m not a father. I don’t have kids.”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters a lot. It means I don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling other people what to do with their children.”

“I don’t have any either…”

“That you know of,” Tyler mutters.

“...but I know when something is purely idiotic. And this is about as idiotic as it gets. Tell us. Come on. How do you feel about all this? What do you THINK about it?”

“I think…” Wick downs his bourbon and then waves the empty glass at the bartender. “...I need another drink.”

“You alright, mate? Do you need to talk about it? Whatever you’ve got going on? ‘Cause there’s a couch over there…” Alcott nods in the direction of the lounge. “...and you can lie on it and I’ll sit next to you and you can talk to me like I’m a therapist. Gonna cost you, though. One sixty-five an hour.”

“And would that be in US dollars or pounds?”

Sighing in exasperation, Alcott turns back to Tyler. “You realize this is a stupid idea, yeah? Keeping it from her? That little girl is smarter than any of you are giving her credit for. And she’s been wanting a dad in her life since she’s practically been old enough to talk. I know you think you’re protecting her, but…”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Protect her. She’s been through enough. More than any kid should have to go through. So we’re just giving her a little bit of a break and…”

“Hearing that you’re her father IS the break. That bit of good news in the midst of all the bullshit. Don’t you think it’ll lift her spirits? Especially after what happened this morning? That incident scared her to bits; she needs some kind of assurance that her entire world isn’t going straight to hell. That she’s safe and secure and no one else is going to hurt her.”

“And I can give her all of that. I can keep her safe. I can stop anyone from getting to her. She doesn’t need to know I’m her dad for all of that to happen.”

Wick speaks up. “If I may be so bold…”

“Oh, now you have something to say,” Alcott chides. “After you get a fourth one into ya. Need the booze to loosen your lips and tongue, do you mate?”

Tyler nods, signifying for him to go ahead.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say anything because I’m trying not to put myself right in the middle of your personal life. But…”

Tyler scowls. “Mate, you’ve been in it for years. Since you kept Esme’s whereabouts a secret. And then didn’t bother telling me about my kid. You have been knee-deep in my personal life for a while.”

“I did what was asked of me,” Wick defends himself. “Esme’s my friend. She needed my help. I gave it to her. And I wasn’t going to betray her confidence. For anyone. And I’m sorry; if that puts me on your shit list permanently. But I did what I had to do.”

“It wasn’t up to any of us to tell you where she was or that you had a kid,” Alcott adds. “None of that was ours to tell. She asked for our help, we gave it. It wasn’t anything personal against you. Although I still think she could have done a hell of a lot better than a two brain cell having, knuckle-dragging, nappy-headed bastard from Queensland.”

“I think it would do Millie a world of good to hear that you’re her dad,” Wick continues. “She needs something to hold onto, some kind of bright spot in all of this. She’s a little kid, and little kids need to know that everything is going to be okay. Hell, even us adults need to know that from time to time. She’s been asking about her dad for a while; who he is, where he is, why hasn’t she met him? And she doesn’t just get on her mom about it. She’s asked me. More than once.”

“She’s asked me several times,” Alcott admits. “She even once asked if I was her dad. I said to look at me and look at herself in the mirror. That alone should tell her I’m not the one that put the bun in her mother’s oven.”

“I just think that this is something that could undo some of the damage done this morning,” Wick says. “We all see how much she adores you. And vice versa. If she’s already head over heels and doesn’t know, imagine how she’ll be when she finds out. And I just can’t help but believe it’s better if you do it sooner than later.”

“Listen to him,” Alcott addresses Tyler. “That’s a man that knows what he’s talking about.”

“Ten minutes ago, you were worried he was going to get you killed out on the street. Now you’re kissing his ass?”

“We’re on the same page. Both of us feel it’s best for Millie if…”

“What do you either of you know what’s best for Millie? For MY daughter? She doesn’t belong to either of you.”

“Maybe not, but we’ve known her longer,” Alcott points out. “As much as I’m sure that hurts to hear.”

“Not my most favourite thing to think about, no.”

“The truth is, we’ve been in her life from the start,” Wick says. “When she was still inside her mother’s belly. Both of us have changed her diapers, fed her bottles, read her bedtime stories, tucked her in…”

“She’s puked on me more times than I care to remember,” Alcott adds. “And believe me, her mother will eventually get my cleaning bill.”

“Why would you think I want to hear this? You’re not making things any better, mate. I’m already pissed off enough. Bringing things like THAT up? Are you trying to get her ass handed to you or…”

“No one is trying to rub salt in the wound,” Alcott assures him. “But the fact of the matter is that we do know Millie better than you do. For now, anyway. I mean, I let her call me Uncle Duey, for fuck sake.”

Wick swigs his bourbon. “I’m Uncle John-John. Killer by night, Uncle John-John by day. My, how the mighty have fallen.”

“She’s a damn good kid,” Alcott continues. “Her mother has done an amazing job with her. And you should consider yourself lucky; you didn’t manage to knock up someone who would have gotten rid of your spawn the second they found out about it. This isn’t exactly the life we strive to bring kids into, is it? Give them dads who kill people for money?”

Tyler frowns; brow furrowed as he drums his fingertips against his glass. “That’s not all we do.”

“Aww mate…” Alcott chuckles and slaps a hand down onto his shoulder. “...don’t sugar coat it. Don’t romanticize it. That’s EXACTLY what we do. And one day, that little girl is going to grow up and she’s going to find out what her daddy really does for a living and…”

“What I DID for a living,” Tyler corrects him. “Past tense. By the time she’s old enough to understand it, I’ll have been out of the game for a few years.”

Alcott waves down the bartender. “The fact of the matter is that she WILL find out. Right now, you’re just the cool friend of her mother’s who can kick ass and take names. That’s how she sees it; you’re big and you’re strong and you’re here to keep her safe from the bad guys. But once she’s older…”

“I just think it’s better if she knows about you being about her dad before THAT happens,” Wick pipes up. “That’s my opinion. Take it with a grain of salt. But…”

“You must want her to know,” Alcott says. “That you’re her father. How could you NOT want her to know?”

“Of course I want her to know. You think I like this fucking game we’re playing with her? You think it doesn’t burn my ass every time she calls me by my first name? Or ‘this is my mum’s boyfriend. Do you really think it doesn’t bother me?”

“I think you’ve got a lot of anger stored up,” Wick says. “And I think the more you lie to Millie, the worse that anger is going to get and then you’re going to snap one day and say some shit you’ll regret. And then both her and her mother will be out of there.”

Grinning, Alcott nudges Wick with his elbow. “Now who’s the therapist?”

“I have my moments.”

Alcott addresses Tyler once more. “Isn’t five years enough? Wasn’t that enough time apart? Do you really want to let this shit fester and a year or two down the road, let it completely ruin things? For good?”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“If Millie is anything like her mother…” The Brit tosses a wad of cash down on the bar when one of the tenders sets down a tray of shots. “...which we already know she is, she is going to be the type to hold one hell of a grudge when she’s older. So you can imagine what that’ll be like? If you keep up this bullshit? The more time that drags on, the more she’s going to resent both of you for not telling her the truth sooner. And the next thing you know, you gotta teenager who can’t stand being in the same room as you and would sooner spit in your face than look at you.”

Wick side-eyes him, then helps himself to a shot. “Are you SURE you don’t have kids?

“I don’t have kids. But I do have brothers and sisters. And I know how lies…even told with the best of intentions…can tear a family apart. Why would he want that to happen when he just got his family together?”

“HE is sitting right beside you,” Tyler reminds him. “HE can hear you.”

“Mate, in the long run, it’s your life. And from what I understand, that life has been quite shit the past few years. Now, you’ve managed to get her back; the woman that you love more than anything in this world. The person you’d gladly give up your own life for. Do you really want to hold onto this shit you’ve got bottled up and risk losing her? AGAIN?”

“It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the reason Esme left.”

“You were and you weren’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. We all know that. But she did leave BECAUSE of you. To protect you. And I’m not going to judge that decision and we’re not going to debate whether she was right or wrong. And I’m certainly not going to pretend I understand anything about the situation she was put in…”

“But…”

“Enough lies have been told. Enough secrets have been kept. I think it’s high time that all of that shit stops. For you, for her, for Millie. For all of you as a family. You’re that little girl’s father. Whether you’re ready to be it or not.”

“I was ready to be ‘it’ the second I saw her and knew she was mine.”

“Then do your first good thing as a dad, and don’t lie to her. No more than you already have. She’s smart and she’s resilient and doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body. Not yet. But the older she gets…”

“What we’re trying to say is that you’re going to just fuck things up more,” Wick says. “Or at least that’s what I’M trying to say. I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about half the time.”

“I was ready to tell Millie the first day. That I was her dad. But it’s not my decision to make. It’s not…”

“Not alone, it isn’t,” Alcott downs his shot and the winces at the immediate burn. “But it’s half yours. Now I know it’s been a while since I’ve indulged in any extracurricular activities of the sort, but I’m pretty sure it takes two people to make a baby. Unless times and technology have changed since the last time I…”

Wick frowns. “Jesus, how long has it been?”

“Way too long, mate. Way too damn long.”

“But aren’t you…you know…with his ex-wife?”

“On and off. And without giving too much away and completely disrespecting her, I’m sure the big-headed, big-eared Australian and I can agree on the fact that she isn’t the most…what’s the word… affectionate…of people.”

“It’s like fucking a couch,” Tyler grumbles as he slides off his bar stool, then pulls his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Three or four times every six months.”

Alcott smirks. “Now THAT’S not nice. It’s true, but it’s NOT nice. At all.”

Wick nods in the Australian’s direction. “Where are you going?”

Tyler tosses a handful of bills down onto the top of the bar. “I’m not going to name names, but unlike certain individuals, I have a woman to get back to.”

“That’s right,” Alcott scoffs. “Just rub it in, you prick.”

“I’ll be rubbing it in while you’re rubbing it out.”

“You know, it’s moments like these where I don’t like you very much. Are you the one still holding a grudge? Because I drank all your milk?”

“You’re just damn lucky I hit that coffee cup. ‘Cause the meds had me pretty shaky that day. Be glad you still have your hand. Is that your favourite one? The one gets the most use?”

“I really do hate you sometimes, you know that, yeah?”

“You’d miss me, though. If I wasn’t around anymore.”

“In your wildest and wettest.”

“Last thing I want to do is sit around here, watching you two get shit-faced. Not when I’ve got a warm body waiting for me.”

“I don’t know what she sees in you. You’re certainly not the best catch on the planet. Not even close to it. She can definitely do better.”

“It’s okay to be jealous, mate.” He clamps both hands down on Alcott’s shoulders.. “ Especially when you’re not even on her short OR long list.”

“Now that’s just rude. Those are just fighting words. Give her a kiss, would ya? From both of us.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Wick grumbles. “I prefer all my limbs attached to my body.”

“Get your beauty sleep, Australian,” Alcott calls to him as he heads through the room. “Good knows you need about ten years of it to look good even in your mother’s eyes.”

Tyler smirks. “That’s okay. Your mother thinks I’m perfect just the way I am.”

“You fucking asshole. You regular fucking muppet. I oughta come over there and rearrange your ugly face.”

Chuckling, Tyler steps out of the bar. “I’d like to see you try.”

******

He’s rougher than he needs to be. Using his considerable size and strength difference to punish her; able to convincingly hide the hurt, anger and bitterness under layers of voracious want and need. And she willingly takes everything he dishes out; her body eagerly responding to the tight grip around her throat, the yanking of her hair, and the brutally hard thrusts that have her crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

It had always been her favourite; that tiny body able to withstand enormous amounts of torment in the name of sexual gratification. Something he’d both discovered and marvelled at five years ago; amazed at not only the things she allowed him to do but so openly -and boldly- requested of him. And it remains all this time later, despite their absence from each other’s lives; the awe and the adoration and that powerful, all-consuming mixture of lust and love that nothing -or no one- else could ever come close to measuring up to.

The self-loathing makes a quick appearance; feeling the utmost disgust in himself as he lays in bed beside her. Listening to her soft rhythmic breathing as she sleeps soundly; her back presented to him, yet her head resting in the crook of his elbow, those long, dark tresses fanned out across his arm and the sheets below. He hates himself; for both manhandling her and continuing to harbour such resentment. And while it will be ever strong enough to undo the love and the adoration and pure, unadulterated worship that he’s carried for years, it is enough to slightly tarnish them. To make him feel sick to his stomach and despise himself for ever thinking such negative and hateful ways towards her.

Sighing heavily, he drapes a forearm across his brow and takes in slow, deep breaths; a somewhat successful attempt to chase away the ugliness that festers inside his brain. His own body bearing the effects of just how rough and unhinged things had been between them just two short hours before; deep and painful fingernail trails that crisscross his back and his ribs, bite marks that decorate his collarbone, shoulders, and even the inside of his thighs, a tingling scalp where having his hair twisted and yanked. Incredibly enjoyable at the time; her enthusiasm and her ability to ‘dish it out’ encouraging his intensity even more. But now he feels like shit; the conversations in the bar replaying in his head and his anger -towards both her and the situation that had seen her make the decisions she had- simmering just below the surface.

He’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her stir; the slight shifting of the mattress under her tiny body, the absence of the weight of her head upon his arm as she changes positions. Rolling over under her side and sliding closer to him; a hand coming to rest on his stomach as she nuzzles his ear with the tip of her before pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Why are you awake?”

He lays a palm on the back of her head; fingertips pushing through her hair to lightly and affectionately knead at her scalp. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“I had the weirdest yet mostly satisfying dream. About taking you and Millie to Colorado to meet the fam. My mom picked us up at the airport, called you Crocodile Dundee and insulted your haircut.”

“That’s oddly specific. What happened next?”

“You gave her very detailed instructions on how to fuck off and stay fucked off. I didn’t get right to the end, but I like to think you wrapped things up by slapping the shit out of her.”

“I don’t hit women.”

“Never? Ever? You’ve never hit a woman?”

“What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“I don’t mean in your personal life. I know you’re not the type. I mean on the job. You’ve never had to resort to it?”

“Just once.”

“Was she a mark or…?”

“Another merc. Working FOR the mark. We got into it. Blood was shed. Only one of us walked away.”

“Well, I obviously don’t need to ask WHO.”

“Yaz got his ass handed to him by one. In Vienna. She absolutely wrecked him. And he’s tough; for such a small guy. But believe me; he couldn’t walk or piss right for a month afterwards.”

“You like to keep up with your friends’ urinating habits, do you?”

“Anyone ever tell you? That you’re a smart ass?”

“You used to tell me ALL the time. Makes me happy to hear it again; means we're getting back to the basics. The good ol’ days. And as for your future monster in law…”

He arches a brow.

“You wouldn’t even backhand her in dreamland? The Wicked Witch of the Midwest? The one who said you kidnapped her only girl and…I quote…’kept her captive in your den of blood and danger and kinky sex’?”

“I mean, she WAS right. About the sex thing.”

“She also called you Ty.”

“Now THAT’S a fighting word. Because of that? I suppose I could make an exception. Knock her out.”

“And here I was, thinking the selling point would be the decades spent making my life a living hell. I thought for sure you’d want to defend my honour. Seriously though…” She lightly runs her fingernails across his stomach. “....why ARE you awake?”

“It’s two thirty in the morning. Why are YOU so chatty?”

“It’s a gift. Answer my question.”

“I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Even back in Dhaka. And especially when we were living together. Come to think of it, I’m starting to see a pattern. The one thing all these places have in common.”

“Maybe it’s better you don’t sleep. Because I might kill you. Smother you with your pillow.”

Chuckling, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her tightly into his side. Lips meeting her brow before resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

“When it comes to the job?”

“Are we even calling it that anymore?”

“I mean, you WERE hired. You did show up. And you ARE doing what I employed you for.”

“But? I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

“Well, there’s nothing really ‘normal’ about it. And Millie and I are definitely not ‘normal’ customers.”

“Everything about this is as far from normal as you can get. It’s personal. Way too close to home. I’m never THIS attached to who I’m looking out for.”

“You looked out for Mia’s sister and her kids. That’s pretty personal.”

“She was my ex-sister-in-law. And it was a job out of pure fucking guilt. Because I felt I owed it to Mia. After everything I had done to hurt her, I figured it was the least I could do.”

“What if you’d died doing it? Was giving up your life the ‘least’ of it, or…”

“At that time? Without you around? I didn’t give a fuck if I was alive or dead. So it wouldn’t have mattered much.”

“It would have mattered to me; if Nik or Yaz or even Alcott got a hold of me and said something happened to you. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. The fact that I never got to say I was sorry or tell you that I still loved you or to bring Millie to you. So for what it’s worth, I’m glad that never happened. Because I may not have been in the picture, but I would have missed you for the rest of my life.”

Emotion chokes at him, and he places a hand on her hip and gives a tight, affectionate squeeze.

“I was going to come and see you. In Austria. At the prison.”

“Alcott told you I was there?”

Esme nods.

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I guess I was scared. About how you’d react. It had been almost three years since I’d just disappeared. And you would have had every right to be pissed off enough to have me thrown out of there.”

“I was never THAT pissed off.”

“I also didn’t want it to happen there; the first time we saw each other again. Not exactly the ideal place for a reunion. I don’t think you would have wanted to find out about Millie while you were locked up. Me showing up would have been enough of a shock, never mind THAT.”

“It would have been a hell of a surprise. But I wouldn’t have been pissed off. I would have been relieved more than anything; to see that you were okay and to know that you even gave a shit what was going on with me.”

“I never stopped ‘giving a shit’ about you, Tyler. I worried about you all the time; practically every second of every day. But had I shown up there…”

“You could have been convinced to be a repeat visitor. I could have talked my way into conjugal visits.”

“I probably would have gone along with it. I bet you looked hot in that orange jumpsuit.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you.”

He remains quiet for several minutes, knuckles repeatedly grazing up and down and her spine, her nose pressed against the side of his neck.

“I wrote to you,” she confesses. “Every week for about a year.”

He frowns. “I never got anything.”

“I never sent any of the letters. I just sat down and poured my heart out and then got cold feet about mailing them. So I just put them in a box and tucked them away. They’re actually still in the back of my closet.”

“You kept them all this time?”

“Everything I wish I’d said and everything I should have done differently is in those letters. Even every apology I wish I’d made. There was always unfinished business. An open chapter. And if I got rid of the letters, it meant I was also getting rid of you. And I know I left, and it seemed like I didn’t want you anymore, but I wasn’t ready for it…for US…to be done. I don’t think I ever would have been.”

“Come here,” he beckons and wraps her in both of his arms; enjoying the scent that clings to skin and hair and the warmth that radiates from her naked body.

God, he’d missed it. He’d missed HER. The touch of her hands and the taste of her kiss. The sound of her voice and her laugh. And that smile that’s reserved solely for him; curving her lips and further softening her features and causing her eyes to sparkle and dance. And for several minutes, they lay in silence; the tension and the sadness eased by the familiar weight of her head upon his chest as a large, callused palm continuously strokes her hair.

“Maybe one day you’ll let me read them. You might have chickened out sending them when you wrote them, but…”

“Whenever you’re ready to see them, they’ll be there. And I think it might be good for both of us; if you look at them. Kinda like shutting the door on that part of our lives. Permanently.”

“I don’t think I’m ready right now. I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“Take your time. They’re not going anywhere. There’s no rush. I know there’s a lot going on right now; I’ve dumped enough on you in the past four days to last a lifetime. And I never intended to. I never…”

“You haven’t ‘dumped’ anything on me. Using that word makes it something there’s been nothing good. And believe me, Millie is worth more than any of the bad shit. I’d take a bullet to the neck a thousand times over if it meant she’d exist.”

“I just wish things had been different. When it comes to how I handled things. I had the best of intentions. I REALLY did. I panicked; I knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against The High Table, and I had to protect you. If anything had happened to you…”

“I can wrap my head around THAT. What I can’t get past is afterwards. When things went back to normal and they weren’t a threat anymore. That’s what I’m having a hard time getting past.”

“I already explained. I already…”

“I don’t want to be angry.”

“At me?”

He nods.

“You have every right to be, Tyler. I did a horrible thing to you. More than one, actually. And I can justify leaving; I feel I did the right thing when it came to protecting you. But staying under the radar for years and not telling you about Millie…”

“It’s the entire situation I want to be angry at. That I NEED to be angry at. If The High Table never showed up, everything else wouldn’t have happened. You didn’t know they were going to come for you. You thought you were in the free and clear and done with them. And when they came looking for you, you weren’t given much of a choice. It’s them I should be pissed with. Not you.”

“But…”

Firmly gripping the back of her head, he presses a kiss to her temple and then begins to uncoil her from his embrace; hating the absence of contact when he sits up against and leans against the headboard. One leg bent at the knee, he sighs heavily and rakes a hand through his hair and then runs both palms over his weary face.

“Do you think we can actually TALK about this? Without hurting feelings?”

Gathering the quilt around her naked body, Esme sits up as well. “I think feelings are already hurt, don’t you?”

“Without hurting them even more, then? Because I don’t want to fight, Esme. That’s the last thing I want. There’s enough bullshit going on without adding that to the list.”

“I don’t want that either. And I don’t want to fight about this, especially. But if talking is what you want to do…”

“Like rational, reasonable adults.”

She nods in agreement.

“First thing’s first. I need to ask you something. And you gotta promise me it won’t piss you off.”

“How bad is what you’re going to ask that you need a promise like that?”

“It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…I don’t know…you might think I’m stupid for even thinking about it, let alone asking.”

“And you accuse me of being that one that talks in riddles? What…?”

“Did you and Alcott have something going?”

She can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“Did you ever have anything going with him? Relationship wise?”

“No. No. Omg, no. Never.”

“I mean, a relationship of ANY kind. Maybe you never boyfriend and girlfriend thing, but…”

“There’s no ‘but’. There has NEVER been anything between us other than friendship.”

“Did he ever want there to be?”

“Not that he’s ever told me. Or acted on. Colleagues and buddies, that’s it.”

“What about you? Anything YOU wanted? Or acted on? Or…”

“Tyler, men and women ARE capable of being just friends.”

“You and I weren’t.”

“You and I are in an entirely different league. We always have been. From pretty much the second we met. You never denied it; feeling ‘something’ right away.”

“Lust. It’s called lust. You know how there’s ‘love at first sight’? Well, that was lust at first sight.”

“Yeah, there was a lot of lust. But it was more than that and you know it.”

“Did you feel anything like that for him or…?”

“I have never felt anything for Russell. Other than platonic love. And maybe wanting to smack the shit out of him from time to time.”

Tyler smirks. “Russell. That’s kinda personal, don’t you think?”

“It’s his first name. What else am I supposed to call him?”

“Everyone calls him Alcott. EVERYONE.”

“Probably because they don’t know his actual name IS Russell. I like to call people by their first names. Especially my friends. You’ve always been a little uptight about these kinds of things; you’ve always hated the idea of anyone else being in my life. You don’t even like the fact I was married before we met.”

“What I hate is WHO you were married to. And the shit he did. That’s what I hate.”

“Admit it, you can’t handle the thought of me with anyone else. I bet you stressed about it constantly during the last five years.”

“No.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Sometimes.”

“I have a history. I have exes. So do you. You were married before me. You don’t see me obsessing over it. I mean, I don’t particularly like the idea of hearing about your slutty bachelor days, but I realize back then you had commitment issues. You’re a red-blooded male with needs and…”

“And you’re a red-blooded female. With needs.”

“Needs I was more than happy to tend to on my own. You’re the type that prefers having a participant with those things. Me…”

“I am more than capable of handling things on my own. Figuratively AND literally…”

“...I don’t need sex. I have gone YEARS without it. I’m capable of surviving without it.”

“That makes me feel great. Thanks for that.”

“If it’s already not glaringly obvious, I enjoy sex with you. I love having it with you. I could have sex with you all day, every day. For the rest of my life. But the fact is, I never gave a shit about it until YOU. It wasn’t a necessity. I’d never been with someone who could get the job done, know what I mean? I always relied on myself for getting there.”

“You have dated some real fucking winners, haven’t you.”

“I may not need sex, but I WANT sex. And I want it with you. Only you. No one else. And seeing as we haven’t seen each other in five years…”

“What about Alessio? You slept with him. You were going to marry the guy.”

“This isn’t about Alessio. Who was a job.”

“I’ve never had a job that required me to fuck someone.”

“I was his fiancee. I was playing a part. If I didn’t do THAT? He would have known something was up. And maybe it was drastic; going to those extremes. But I did. I allowed myself to feel beautiful. And wanted.”

“I wanted you.”

“And I fucked that up. I know that. But other than him? And this playing pretend? There’s never been anyone else. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone but you. And I tried. Not the sex thing, but the dating and the relationship stuff. I met people. Men, women. I went out a few times. And you know what? Every time they tried to take things further? All I did was compare them to you.”

Tyler blinks at her honesty.

“I have never wanted anyone else. I’m not afraid to admit that. And there’s never been a damn thing between Russell and I. He kept me updated on things you were doing; he contacted me about Georgia and Mia and her sister and all of that. And told me about you going to prison. Other than Millie, he was the strongest connection I had to you.”

“And Nik. And Yaz. All these people that knew you were okay.”

“All people I swore to secrecy and hated every second of it. They didn’t want to lie to you. I especially didn’t want to. And I don’t get your hang-up with Russell and me. You don’t ever question my friendship with Yaz.”

“That’s because he’s Yaz. He may have a huge hard-on for you…”

“He has a hard-on for me? What? He told you that?”

“...but I know you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Not like that. I know you see him like a little brother. But Alcott..”

“It’s because Alcott’s like you, right? He reminds you of yourself. And because I lusted you immediately and fell in love with you so quickly, it must mean it happened with him too.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know why it bothers me. How close the two of you are.”

“All I can do is tell you the truth. And reassure you. As many times as you need it. There has never been anything between us. On either of our parts. Nothing has even come remotely close to crossing a line. I know I hurt you and I betrayed you and you don’t exactly trust me right now…”

“I trust you. With my life. With my daughter’s life.” ‘ “...but I wouldn’t lie about this. I don’t see him in that way. I don’t see anyone in that way. It’s just you, Tyler. That I’ve wanted. It’s always been you. It will always be ONLY you.”

“You’d tell me, yeah? If there’d been anyone else? During the last five years? OTHER than that dick head, Alessio.”

“You were honest with me; about sowing your wild oats all over Australia and many parts of Europe. Why would I not tell you the truth? There hasn’t been anyone else. And there especially hasn’t been anything with Alcott. And there never will be.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

“On a side note, he’s banging your ex-wife, you know.”

“I don’t care what he’s doing to my ex. She’s my ex for a reason. She stopped being any of my concern a long time ago.”

“You were concerned enough to help her. To take the job. Put your life on the line to get her sister and her kids the hell out of Georgia.”

“It was a job. I was being paid.”

“Maybe. But there’s a history there. You were married to the woman. You had a child with her. I know the kind of guilt and regret you carry around. You can’t tell me those didn’t play a part.”

“How did we go from talking about us to talking about her? How…?”

“You want to talk. So let’s talk. Let’s get it all out there. Say the things we need to say. You’re not the only one who’s been holding onto some shit.”

“And now who’s worried about someone else’s history?”

“I don’t care about your history. I care about YOU. And when I heard about that job…”

“You left. I wasn’t the one who took off. You were. So I stopped being of any concern to you. Second you walk out that door…”

“No. It never stopped. I never stopped worrying about you. I didn’t leave because of something you did. Or didn’t do. I never took off because I didn’t love you. I took off because I did.”

“You know how you always say ‘opposites attract’? When it comes to us? Maybe most of the time, that’s true. But it’s not with this. You left, Esme. You left ME. Just like I left my boy. So we have THAT in common, don’t we.”

“I never blamed you for leaving your son. I said it was a stupid thing to do. I still think it was. But I also told you I understood why you did it. I sympathized with you. I still do. It was a horrible, horrible thing to go through; seeing your child sick and wasting away. And you’d never been taught coping skills and you had all that toxic masculinity and you…”

“Why did you leave?”

“I told you. I left to protect you”

“We could have found a way. To fight back. So tell me, why didn’t you stay?”

“I was scared and I was worried and I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I…”

“Esme…” His voice becomes more forceful. Demanding. “Why didn’t you stay?”

“Because I fucked up. Because I brought them to you. And I didn’t know what else to do. So I left. Because I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Silence descends on the room. An eerily still quiet that remains until she sniffles loudly; wiping at errant tears with the back of her hand.

“I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fucking fix it”

“Why do you think I left my boy?”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s not…”

“It is. It IS the same thing. We left for the same reasons. And what happened because of it? We took off. And we hurt the only person that ever really gave a fuck about us.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know how to get away from them. I didn’t want them coming back. Not when you were there. I didn’t want them hurting you. Or worse.”

“We would have had time. To get the fuck out of there. We could have found a place to hide out. We could have flown under the radar and let Nik and John and even Alcott deal with The High Table. You didn’t have to leave.”

“I didn’t think of that. I was scared. You were still healing from Dhaka. And even if you’d been a hundred percent, you’re not invincible. You wouldn’t have beaten them, Tyler. Not on your own. Not even with a small army. They would have found us. No matter where we were hiding.”

“Don’t underestimate Nik. She would have put us far underground. No one would have been able to track us.”

“I didn’t even consider it. It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Like you said; you were scared and you were worried. Kinda hard to think right under those circumstances. But Nik? She has no excuse for not coming up with a solution like that.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. That I didn’t think of those. That I didn’t stay. I wanted to. I wanted to be with you. I never wanted to leave.”

Reaching out, calloused fingertips push strands of hair off her forehead and tuck others behind her ears. “I know you didn’t.”

“We both fucked up. In the past. Only my fuck up lasted five years. And I not only hurt you, but I hurt Millie, too.”

“You didn’t hurt her. Not in the slightest.”

“I kept her away from her dad. For selfish fucking reasons. All because I was worried about rejection. Because I was scared you’d turn me away. That you’d turn US away.”

“I wouldn’t have. I’ve spent the last five years wondering where you were. HOW you were. Wanting you.”

“I’m a horrible person.”

“No. You’re not. You’re a good person who made a bad decision.”

“I remember saying those exact words to you. In Dhaka.”

“And you didn’t hurt Millie. Look how amazing she is. She’s healthy and happy and she’s so fucking smart, Me. And she’s beautiful and she’s perfect and she’s everything that’s great inside both of us all into one. You didn’t hurt her. And you definitely didn’t fail her. You’ve done an awesome job with her. And I’m lucky. Of all the people that are the mother to my kid, it’s you. Because a lot of other women never would have gone through with having her.”

“There was no way I was giving her up. Not while I was pregnant and definitely not after. And I needed to hear that from you. That I haven’t fucked her up. That I’ve done good with her. And BY her.”

“You’ve done more than good, believe me.”

“I am so sorry. That I screwed up so badly. That I left instead of trying to fix things. I really did do it because I didn’t think I had another choice. Because I was scared and worried and wanted to keep you safe.”

“I can accept that. I HAVE accepted it. But when everything was gone and you still stayed away? That’s what I’m having a hard time with. That I just can’t get past. And I want to; get past it.”

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to say. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to make this better. To make it right.”

“There’s nothing you can say. Or do. You’ve already done it all. It’s just me. It’s me needing time to process and accept it and move on from it.”

“So what does that mean for us? You don’t want there to be an us? Until you’ve done all that?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. At all. Of course, I want there to be an us. Did you not ask me to marry you?”

“Not in so many words, but…”

“And did I not say okay?”

She nods.

“I want you. I want US. I want to raise our daughter together. I want to get married and have more kids. I mean, if that’s what you want. More.”

She manages a weak, shaly smile. “A couple more wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m actually looking forward to; finding out we’re having another one and seeing you pregnant. That’s one of the things I AM pissed about; that I didn’t get to see you like that. All cute and round, and the baby…MY baby…just growing and thriving in there.”

“I carried HUGE with Milile. People were always asking if there was more than one because of just how huge I was. I told them, ‘This is what happens when you procreate with a giant.’”

“I hope you know I’m going to be one of those insanely protective dads-to-be.”

“More protective than you already are with me? Is that even possible?”

“Don’t challenge me, Esme. You’d be surprised how far I can go with it. And I’ll deal with my shit; all the issues I’ve got going on because of what happened. But I’ll do it WHILE we’re together. I’m not worried about that; it causing problems between us or with our family. I just thought you needed to know that I AM still struggling with all of this; you staying away and keeping Millie from me. And I don’t know how long I’ll actually fight with it, but I will get over it. Eventually.”

“And you’ll still love me? Even when things seem extra hard?”

“I love you no matter what. I never stopped. Not once in those five years. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”

As he leans in to peck his lips, her fingers aggressively push through his hair. A long, trembling sigh escaping her when the hand on the nape of her neck tightens its grip; holding her firmly against him as he prolongs and deepens the kiss. Long, sinuous movements of lips and tongue, accompanied by naked limbs that glide and rub against each other as they once more sprawl out across the bed. And when air becomes a necessity, he pulls away and braces himself on both arms above her; a smile curving her lips as she reaches up to trace the line of his jaw.

“Can I ask YOU something now?”

“As long it’s not about my ex-wife, what happened between you and me five years ago, or what’s going to happen in less thirty-six hours.”

“It’s not about any of those things.”

“What do you want to ask me?”

“Is it true? That Yaz has a hard-on for me?”

Chuckling, Tyler leans down and nips at the side of her neck. “You’re a brat.”

“Did he actually tell you that? That he’s packing a woody for me?”

“I can’t give away all his secrets. I’ve said enough.”

“Did you threaten to rip from limb to limb if he even tried anything?”

“No.” He presses a series of warm, soft kisses across her collarbone, his beard scraping the pale, delicate skin. “I told him YOU would.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fan fic #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction/John Wick cross over #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Rake Lives #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[sunflowerbower]

Vague Winston Scott headcanons.

But only from the John Wick movies because I haven’t watched The Continental yet and Ian McShane is my Winston 🩵 gender neutral and no physical descriptions.

First time I’ve posted headcanons like this. Just a few thoughts from my brain to yours 😅 slightly dirtier ones under the cut!

Sun xx

NSFW | minors dni please.

He’s possessive

Intense eye contract

An almost superhuman amount of patience with you, because he finds the way your brain works a bit amusing

He enjoys that you’re not part of his world, you’re a secret he can escape to

Although of course this means he frequently worries about someone discovering you

Which leads to yet more possessive behaviour

That mostly manifests in the bedroom/kitchen/lounge/place of work

Because he cannot keep his hands off you

You often find yourself being gently but firmly manoeuvred into shadowy corners

He murmurs filthy compliments to you in that delicious voice of his

“So pretty for me, and so needy”

“I’m going to ruin you in the very best way, love”

His hands are agile, confident, and the way he plays with you is passionate but still slightly restrained

You always want to make him truly let go with you, as you suspect he hides parts of himself when he is with you

Even though he wants to watch your face when you orgasm, with more intense eye contact

You rarely see him fully come apart

When he has come close he buries his head in your neck and you have marks that last for days

And then somewhat surprisingly he likes to hold you afterwards

As often as he can in fact

You are an indulgence

Not a guilty pleasure, he rarely feels guilt about anything

But he would if anything happened to you.

#fan fiction #john wick #sunflowerbower fics #winston john wick #Winston Scott #ian mcshane #headcanons #Winston Scott x reader

[fargreencountryswiftsunrise]

Me: Ah, yes. i know going in this is going to be a long fic. Nothing will surprise me about this length.

Fanfic: *extended backstory and flashbacks*

Me: What is this? Who's doing this?

Fanfic:

Me: Of course it would be you, you drama queen.

#john wick #winston #winston scott #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #plot bunny #plot bunnies #writing #writer #write #writer woes

[takiki16]

I've seen you talk about Helen Wick a lot and her relationship with John and how he was totally devoted to her. In the second movie, we have a nice parallel with Gianna and her relationship with Cassian. What do you think? Is it the same level of commitment? I don't remember if we have something similar in the third movie, it's been a while since I've watched it. But I love the idea of John running into men devoted to their women and being reminded of Helen because of that. Can't wait for Chapter 4 next week!

MY JAM MY JAM MY JAM MY JAM!!!!!!! POUR CHAPTER 4 STRAIGHT INTO MY EYEBALLS!!!!!

Short answer: YES. I think Cassian was absolutely ride or die for Gianna. There is just NO REASON to do a Dramatic Zoom (TM) in on Cassian’s face when he discovers Gianna’s body if there isn’t some level of deeper affection and fealty there!!! Why would Gianna say “what would I do without you, Cassian?” To use a TLT phrase, ANOTHER ONE OF DEVOTION’S CASUALTIES!

Long Answer: yes, I think Cassian is just as devoted as John, but because John chose Helen Wick and Cassian chose Gianna D’Antonio, Cassian doesn’t get to express his devotion the same way?

One of the things that makes us all so hype about the JW franchise is the world building - not only is there an Insane Badass, but he lives within a LARGER FRAMEWORK of insane badasses that have COOL AESTHETIC INFRASTRUCTURE to support their various acts of badassery. John and Cassian may be actively trying to kill each other, but they still vibe because they share…it feels weird to call it a ~*social class*~, because that implies politics I don’t think Chadley and Co. have thought about, but that’s kind of what it is! They know that they are both Service, rather than Management! They come from virtually identical positions on the chessboard! It’s also why I love the John and Sofia scenes in Chapter 3, because her exposition adds more depth and detail to this framework. John may be unique in his SKILL LEVEL, but his actual POSITION in the grand politics of this world means that he still has to kneel when he asks for certain favors. (Which is ANOTHER of the things I loved about Chapter 3 :)))

TO EXTRAPOLATE FROM THAT TO BEAUTIFUL FEALTY MUSINGS: you all already know that I love a subby murderbot who is devoted, body and soul, to the object(s) of their devotion, and it’s even better when there is a FRAMEWORK of subby murderbots who share this common understanding. They may have plot-related disagreements, but even through vengeance there’s always this vibe of “I understand. If it was MY beloved, I would do the same. Now we shall fight to the death, but with that understated Respect (TM).” The only other canon example I can think of is Wheel of Time, but that’s where I see John and Cassian #subbymurderbot4subbymurderbot. And the thing is that Gianna ALSO sees this, which is how she knew exactly the most hurtful thing to say to John when he came for her - the idea that Helen would hate him, for what he was.

HOWEVER - as I said, Cassian can’t express devotion the same way because there is NO WORLD where Gianna D’Antonio agrees to give up the potential political advantage of a marriage, or even a long-term relationship, to make a commitment to her bodyguard - no matter how good or devoted he may be. And there is no world where Cassian would even attempt (and fail miserably) to put Gianna in that position. Has Cassian ever said anything about any potential feelings he might have? Has he admitted it to her…or even himself? What good would it do him, other than make him a potential liability? What good would it do Gianna, to acknowledge that one of her employees would die for her out of deeper emotional reasons than gold coins? I DO think that both of them are aware, and that Gianna has some level of reciprocation even, but I also think that neither of them have ever said anything because…what good would it do? The High Table is not a place where you can have emotional indulgences without returns.

Which makes me think that, in a weird way, Cassian might be jealous of John. A lot of subby assassin murderbots in similar situations might be? And that MAYBE that’s the reason everyone, even people who hated John or were jazzed to have him back, kept saying “I’m sorry about your wife.” To a whole class of subby murderbots who have stalled out in the stoic pining stage where Cassian lives, John achieved the Impossible Dream. HIS person wasn’t his underworld employer, or some other similar backstabbing Underworld denizen, but someone who would allow John to wear his heart on his sleeve, so to speak. And yeah, civilian relationships usually had extremely short literal life spans, but of course the motherfucking Boogeyman pulls off the Impossible Task and manages to get himself a whole LIFE with her!!! He got to marry his person! Legally, even! They got a house and a yard together! John did something that was nOT supposed to be possible for anyone at his level in their world. It’s like if your coworker suddenly did every single job in your workplace for a week by themselves, then immediately won the lottery and left the country, only to have all their money immediately lost in some kind of bank failure. AND someone trashes their car and kills their dog.

I’m imagining like…assassin water cooler talk about John. “Oh, did you hear about Wick? Yeah, he dID it, that crazy bastard! He wiped out all those guys in one night, and then he retired, that mad lad! Didn’t think even HE had it in him! I’ll bet he gets bored and comes back real soon. Couldn’t be me, bro, retiring and living a boring suburban life…with the Person of my Affections…not getting treated like a disposable weapon all the time…SO BLAND, right? I give it two months. Fuck that guy, anyway. Oh…oh she died? After only five years? After…after everything? Oh god, who ordered the…oh. Ouch. Hey man, I’m sorry about your wife.”

SO TO RETURN TO YOUR POINT about Cassian reminding John of Helen bc he keeps running into other subby murderbots - YEAH. I DO THINK HE DOES. I know that polite coldness is sort of etiquette in the Continental, no matter how much you might hate someone, but John goes to the trouble of telling Cassian why he did what he did. Heck, he CONFESSES to Cassian what he did in the absolute worst possible context, even though John could easily have lied at the party and said he was there to kill some other famous underworld boss. It would have bought him a few minutes! But no, John tells Cassian everything because HE would want to know, in Cassian’s shoes. John is fresh off a massive murder spree because someone took Helen’s last gift to him - he knows exactly how Cassian feels right now.

I think that John is lowkey both a legend and a cautionary tale to people like Cassian, because hey. Even if all your dreams come true and you get to build that perfect life with your person, you could lose everything just like that (see Marcus: “It’s days like this scattered among the rest.”). Is it better to just keep your mouth shut and serve their interests as best you can right now? Or do you gamble everything on an Impossible Task, with the possibility that you lose everything anyway?

#john wick #Helen wick #oh man i forgot how fun getting Helen anons is #SOME CASSIAN/GIANNA FAN OUT THERE HAD BETTER BE READING MY SUBTEXT AND WRITING A 100K BODYGUARD ROMANCE FIC FOR ME #cassian #Gianna d’antonio #my posts

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Competition for a heart

Tagging: @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @jointhehunt67

If you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, send me an ask or leave a comment on the fic.

Chapter 6

AN: This chapter contains mentions of illness, death, and imprisonment.

Once again, you lost track of time as you had no way of knowing how much time passed as you recounted your story.  Midway through your recount, you snuck a glance at John and wished you hadn’t.  His face was impassive however you could feel the betrayal and disappointment coming off of him in waves.

You finished your tale and stood up, focusing on Winston.

“You claim you acted in self-defence?”

“Yes.”  You kept your answer as short as possible despite wanting to say so much more.  You had the feeling that you were being assessed again.  Except this time, the result of your assessment would determine whether you lived or died.

“Then why did you not leave when your opponent was incapacitated?”

“Why didn’t you leave?  The man had tried to kill you on the Continental grounds and the second he exhibited signs of genuine distress; you chose to stay.  Why?” A voice in your head whispered.

You squared your shoulders, “When he hit the floor and began to convulse, I knew he wasn’t acting.  There’s something wrong.”

Winston’s gaze darted to Charon for a millisecond but it was enough for you to catch it.

“You know what it is that’s making him sick.”

Winston ignored you and raised his hand, beckoning with three of his fingers.  Four people appeared from nowhere and two of them grabbed your arms.

“You will now be escorted to a cell while the Cleaners conduct a thorough investigation of what happened here.”

You hadn’t expected anything less but your heart dropped into your stomach all the same.  It didn’t help that John’s face was still emotionless.

“Will you attempt to run?”

“No.”  You replied resolutely, “I will not run.”

A faint glimmer of approval appeared in Winston’s eyes.  He jerked his head and you were marched out of the hallway.  To your surprise, instead of a cell with bars, you were escorted back to your room and the door was locked from the outside.

“I didn’t even ask what his name was,” the words rushed out of you in a breathy whisper and you felt ashamed of yourself.

“Alex Lewis.”

You spun around in surprise once you registered that it was John who had spoken through the door to you.

“Is he…”

“That’s up to the Cleaners.”  John’s tone was rough.

You swallowed as the enormity of John’s words hit you and before you could say anything more, you heard John's footsteps grow softer as he walked away from you.  Ignoring the fact that you would be wrinkling the lovely, loaned clothing that you were wearing, you made your way over to the bed and curled up under the sheets after kicking off your shoes.

Sometime during the night, the door to your room creaked open and artificial light streamed into the room, jolting you back into awareness immediately.

“Easy doll, it’s just me.” A familiar, Brooklyn-accented voice hushed you.

“Bucky?!”  Your voice was barely more than a groggy whisper.

“Should have known he’d bring you here and I should have known that trouble would find you.”

Sleepily, you pulled the covers back but Bucky ignored the offer.  Instead, he perched himself on top of the covers and lay down next to you.

“Sleep.”  He urged gently, “You can tell me what happened in the morning.  I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyelids fluttered closed and the last thing that you remembered before you fell into slumber was that Bucky was humming a soft melody that reminded you of your home and childhood.

#my writing #my fics #avengers x john wick crossover #greek gods champions au #avengers x reader #john wick x reader #female reader #john wick #bucky barnes #winston #charon #john wick x reader x bucky barnes #Bucky Banes fan fiction #John Wick fan fiction

[aahsoka]

seeing 2 of the first few posts in the john wick 4 tag are reader x fic with bill skarsgards character ………. i h8 u bitches

#YOU GOTTA TAKE OVER EVERY MOVIE TAG THIS MAN IS IN #jordan talks #yes his suits were nice but im trying to see fight scene gifs …….. #gonna blacklist bill skarsgard rip #i dont even dislike him hes a good actor but his fans make me insane #john wick x reader fic is fair he is the titular character #but i KNOW the marquis shit is because theyre obsessed w bill skarsgard regardless #like im not seeing any caine x reader fics and i think we know why #despite donnie yen being and attractive and PROLIFIC actor #its just like i cant look at the It tag i cant look at the Barbarian tag and now this? make the movie name last tag or something idk

[97keanu]

hey! you could write with john wick coming home to find his wife in the garden with the "garden boy" who clearly likes her but she doesn't realize it. i imagine john being subtle and quiet with his jealousies, nothing too scandalous but serious and direct. fluffly, please and thank you so much 🩷

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I loved this idea so much! I hope you like it, feel free to ask for any expanding drabbles of these two <3

Jealous!John Wick x Naive!Reader

Tags: john is jealous, reader is naive about his jealousies, gardener def has a crush but would rather quit than act on it with john always around, age gap mention, lower class reader in a rich world, possessive john, protective john, primal john

Summer was dying, August dragging out the heat of July, telling the world it was unready to leave just yet. And you, well, you were enjoying the last of the long days, the time when sunset went on for ages, and burned in the sky a blazing orange over your backyard. You always loved the sun, how it turned everything golden each evening, and how it kissed your skin with its heat. 

You were barely breaking a sweat, laying out by the pool while the gardener worked on the bushes. He was young. More around your age than your husband John. Which was nice sometimes, when you got to converse with him, both because of his age, and like you he wasn't from a wealthy background. It kept you a bit more grounded while the life of luxury continued on around you, it was nice to confide in him. 

Unfortunately, what you never noticed was the gardeners wandering eyes. Even now, as you lay out in your bikini, eyes closed and skin happy to drink up the suns rays, he can't help but to watch you. If you asked the gardener about it, he would never admit to his little crush on you. As much as that would be unprofessional of him, he also has no interest in messing with his employer, John Wick. There were rumors, you know, about John coming home, bruised and bloody, a painting of struggle on his skin, the smell of gunpowder on his suit. The gardner has even caught a glimpse before, and watched as you greet your husband as a source of safety and comfort. No one asked why it was that John came home in such a state, but everyone knew, and because of that, the gardener would never pursue you. He would remain a healthy confidant, easing your worries in the world of the rich, and letting you keep in touch with the world outside the private neighborhood. 

The gardener still steals a look or two while he thinks he can get away with it. His headphones buzz with music, drowning out the weed whacker as well as much of his own thoughts. He idly appreciated your body and your beauty from afar, before his stomach drops. He felt for only a moment that he was the one being watched now, and when his eyes flicker up, he meets a set of dark, dangerous eyes. John has entered the backyard, likely in search of his wife, who is currently enjoying the last days of summer. The most frightening part is how close he is, the gardner had no idea that John had snuck up behind him, and now he feels the trail of sweat down his back running cold.

Instead of finding his wife, John sees this man, who he pays handsomely to do work John has no time for, drooling over his wife. The gardener quickly looks away, trying to be busy with work, but the feeling of John's gaze never leaves his back. He starts to feel sweaty for reasons besides the burning August heat, and does everything he can to stop from looking over his back once more. There was just something about John that scared him to his core, and he felt he should trust that feeling if he were to survive. 

Unfortunately for the gardener, John isn't finished. He feels John remove one of his ear buds, the man now so close he can smell John's expensive taste in cologne. 

"I don't pay you to eye fuck my wife." John growls out, assertive and serious. 

"N-no, of course not, Mr. Wick…" The gardener quickly tries to find his way out of this mess, John's cold eyes are enough to scare him away from looking at you for a good long while. 

"Good. I suggest you go home for the night." John maintains professionalism always, but the thoughts running through his head tell a different story. The gardener can practically see these thoughts and takes John's suggestion, quickly moving away to pack up. 

Meanwhile, you don't even know this interaction has happened, eyes closed lightly, sunglasses blocking out the sun. It isn't until John's lips kiss and whisper against your cheek, that you realize your husband is home for the day. Your eyelids flutter open, happy to see his dark form against the dulling blue sky. He looks at you with a small fire in his eyes, and you have no idea he is trying to show off while he continues to kiss down your neck. 

He's halfway to your breast, maybe more,  when you glimpse the gardener beginning to pack up in a haste, and gently pull John away, for modesty if anything. You notice the gardener refuses to look in your direction and wonder why.

"John, wait…" You say softly, and John let's out a small noise of annoyance that his lips must be pulled from your soft skin. 

"What's wrong?" His voice is low, gruff. 

"Let's wait until…" Your eyes finish your sentence, looking towards the gardener once more. John scoffs when he sees where your gaze is going. 

"What? I'm not allowed to lay claim to you in front of the staff?" He says, almost arrogantly. You aren't exactly surprised, John has always been protective, if not possessive. You don't mind it much, in fact sometimes it even turned you on how primal he could be about it. But you also thought you had tamed his jealousy regarding the gardener months ago. 

"You don't have to claim me, John, I'm already yours…" You say with a smirk, kissing right under his well kept beard. John seems to be calmed for the moment by your words, and while he enjoys your kiss, the gardner slips away for the night, safe once again for now. 

John's eyes open when your lips leave his neck, and he looks down at you, perplexed. 

"Why'd you stop…?" He breathes out, voice already dripping, husky with want. You smirk, and stand from where you were sun tanning, taking his hand and pulling him to the house. 

#john wick x f!reader #john wick drabble #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fan fic #lila speaks #ask lila #keanu reeves #my writing #••• ◛ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁱˡ!

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 136

warnings: nsfw, dual pov (** indicate pov change) HMH masterlist

“Haunted houses aren’t even scary.”

Five words you never should have spoken, because it sent Jimmy down a research spiral of every haunted house in Nassau County. He and John have been texting like teenagers for the past two days now over different places they can take you and Tess since ‘haunted houses aren’t even scary’.

Sure, the thought of going into a dark building that is completely unfamiliar is absolutely terrifying, but there’s nothing scary about the corny clown masks and the plastic machetes, or the strobing lights and the sound of a 20 year old trying to get a scream out of you by putting on his best gravelly ‘zombie’ voice. But Jimmy is dead set on finding some place.

Halloween is a few days away, so hopefully he’ll give up on the research by then.

“You know…” you walk into the office and set a book on the desk as John looks at you, “There are days where I’m really glad that we own a bookshop.”

“Yeah, why? Because it was your dream?”

You smile as you nod, then you take a deep breath and tap your pointer finger on the book you set down, “Mostly because I can read books that I end up hating and I didn’t have to pay a dime for it. I feel much better loathing a book that I didn’t pay for.”

John laughs, “You know we pay for these books though, right? We buy them then turn around and make the money back--”

“Just let me have this, Jonathan. Let me live in this for a moment,” you say, putting your hand up as he laughs more, “Also, I’ve been with you for too long. Not in a bad way--never in a bad way.”

“Oh, have you now?” he laughs, leaning in with more curiosity, “Why is that?”

“Well, I’ve been reading a lot of murders, mysteries, and thrillers for this month, and I feel like I have everything figured out. If the man is described as mysterious, there’s probably a reason, like hmm…I don’t know, he’s a murderer who is hiding bodies under his deck in the backyard.”

John laughs, “Spoiler alert.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn and rest your hands on the desk, “It wasn’t in this book, Wick. I just feel like after spending two years with you and having you annoy me with all your…knowledge, I can figure out every twist in these books.”

“I beg to differ,” he says, and you stand up to cross your arms, “We watched that movie the other night and you were so wrong. So wrong.”

“Yeah, well, that plot twist was stupid.” you say, and John playfully narrows his eyes at you, “It was stupid. You even admitted that.”

John laughs as you lean down to kiss him, “Another bad review then?”

“Yeah,” you exhale as you grab a little card to write your review, “It was interesting at first, but it quickly stopped being interesting. I didn’t like any of the characters either. If I had to pay $15 for this, I would ask for my money back. I would not blame someone if they came in and returned this book.”

“Peach, remember, nice reviews.” John says, cocking up his brow. “Maybe you just need a nice romance book.”

You scoff quietly as you roll your eyes, “The last romance book I read had me crying for three chapters straight because they were so cute, then boom! Miscommunication trope. Like, why can’t people just talk? That’s why you and I never seem to fight anymore. If you’re pissing me off, I’ll just call you out and say something about.”

“Just like a wife,” John teases, and you roll your eyes as you laugh. “Have we had any miscommunication? I don’t think so?”

“Hmm,” you hum as you think, “I don’t think so, really. I mean, maybe when we first met. Anyway, I don’t need to read any romance books when I live a romance book. My life with you is pretty fucking magical.”

John scoffs, “I’m not as hot as those guys in those books.”

“Jonathan Wick, are you…fishing for compliments?”

“I don’t know. Am I getting any bites?” he says, and you lean over his desk and playfully bite his finger before sliding it into your mouth as he watches you closely.

You suck on his finger and hold his gaze, then you stand up, “You know damn well that you’re hot like those guys--even hotter. You’re sexy as hell, Wick. Honestly, there’s no reason you should be this sexy, yet here you are.”

John gives you a wink that makes you laugh a little, then you nod and look at the piece of paper as you think of something nice to write. That book was pretty fast paced, that’s a positive. That’s…that’s all you can really think of. You sit on the couch and exhale loudly, then you toss the card aside.

“I’ll just get a review from the site,” you say as you get up and walk over to see what John is working on. You lean against his shoulder as he types on the laptop--responding to an email about a book--then you move to stand behind the chair as you massage his shoulders, “What’s the plan for tonight?”

John sits back in his chair and hums, “Keep doing that and find out.”

You chuckle as you lean down closer to his ear, “Well, come on, that’s a given, right?”

Tilting John’s chin up, you lean down and kiss him a few times as his hand rests on the back of your head to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. You hear the bell above the door ring, so you lean up a little and smile at him.

“I got it.”

John lets out a small breath and nods his head, then he reaches out to spank you when you walk past. You wink at him from over your shoulder, then you head out to see who has just come in.

After helping the customer and ringing them up, you wait a few moments, then you head back to the office and smile when John looks at you. He wiggles his brows a little, and you laugh as you walk over to sit on the couch.

“So, you figured out Ro’s costume yet?”

“I bought two different ones, but I think I’ve landed on one. Does dad want a fashion show?”

John smiles as he looks at you, “Of course. Come here.”

You get up and walk over to sit on John’s lap, and you both wrap your arms around each other as you kiss. John reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear, then he brushes his finger along your jawline before leaning up to kiss you. You both look over when his phone buzzes, and he leans forward to read the text.

“Jimmy found a haunted house.”

You groan as you get off his lap, “You two are like children.”

“We’re going.” he says, and you raise your brows as you look at him, “I’ll protect you.”

“From teenagers pretending to be scary? Yes, thank you. My big strong man.” you tease, which causes John to frown a little, “I’m not scared of haunted houses.”

John laughs and puts his hands up, “Fine. I won’t protect you then.”

“You know that that just hurt you to say that, right?”

“Right,” he laughs as he gets up and rushes over to you, hugging you tight in his arms, “I’ll always protect you.”

You hug him tight and kiss his cheek, “I know, and it’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

John holds your gaze for a moment, then he leans down and kisses you as his hands find their way down to your ass.

Since having Ronan, things have definitely been a little different. Your routine now includes a baby, which means naps, feedings, playtime, and diaper changes. It’s different from what you’re used to, but she really just fit right into everything. Your routine isn’t so dramatically different that you feel like life is different. Life is good. It feels right! She was the little puzzle piece that was missing all along.

And since having a baby, you and John have gotten right back to where you were before intimacy-wise. It took a few times for you to not feel so nervous every time the two of you had sex but things went really well. John was always considerate and gentle with you since you were still a little cautious about everything, but it didn’t take long for that to wear off and for the two of you to return to normal again. Sex with John has always been gentle, generous, and incredibly passionate. It’s nice that that wasn’t lost.

The bell above the door rings as it opens, and it forces you and John to pull apart. He ruffles your hair and walks past you to see who it is, and you sit down on the couch and look down at the blank sheet of paper meant for a book review. You grab your pen and click the top of it, then you begin to write a not-so-honest review.

__

As soon as the door opens, you hear Ronan babbling and cooing in her car seat and John talking to her. You smile as you come around the corner, and you wiggle your fingers and walk closer to her as she laughs in John’s arms.

“Gimme that baby!” you take her and blow raspberries in the crook of her neck as she laughs, then you hold her up and smile, “Hi, bug.”

John smiles as he reaches over to pull the hat off her head, “She was so giggly when I got her tonight. Mom said she was pretty giggly all day too.”

Ronan has started laughing lately but it’s not quite a laugh--she’s only two months--it’s more of a weird little noise. John discovered it the other day when Ronan was sitting in her bouncer and John was clicking his pen while thinking up a grocery list. He clicked it and heard a little noise from her, and you looked up from the (terrible) book you were reading and you both started at each other. The clicking of pens make her laugh, but her daddy making silly voices is probably what gets the most giggles. Apparently everything is funny to her today though.

You hold Ronan in your arms and close your eyes, then you lean back to look at her, “You getting hungry?”

“I am. Smells so damn good in here,” John says as he touches your waist and heads into the kitchen.

You follow behind him as you bounce Ronan in your arms, then you press the button on the machine to make a bottle for Ronan. John begins to make a plate for himself and you while you walk over to the table, then you get Ronan in your arms and rest your elbow on the table so she’s propped up enough to take her bottle.

“You got a whole system down.”

“I do!” you laugh as you take your plate from John, “I just need one hand free to eat with.”

John sits down and reaches over to pinch Ronan’s chubby cheek, then he cuts into his food and takes a bite. You sit in silence for a few minutes while the two of you inhale your food, then you look down at Ronan as she drinks her bottle.

“Bug, are you gonna go trick or treating with your friends?” you ask, and she reaches up and tugs at a strand of your hair. “You’re gonna look so cute in your costume too. Daddy will think you look so pretty.”

“I’m still curious to know what this costume is.”

You smile as you look at him, “As long as you got a costume too.”

“Hey, we’re not going to a Halloween party this year, so I don’t have to wear a costume.”

“Don’t be a party pooper!” you say, and Ronan makes a loud noise, “Yeah, you tell daddy to stop being so boring.”

John laughs as he reaches over to take Ronan, “Tell momma to stop being so--”

“Ah, ah!” you put your finger up and raise your brows, “Choose your next words carefully, Wick.”

“Your mother…”

You gasp as John laughs, “Don’t call me mother.”

John laughs as he leans over to kiss you a few times, then he bounces Ronan and looks at her, “Kinda crazy about your mother, Ro.”

“Your father…” you lean over and smile at Ronan as John laughs, then you look at him, “Your father is, ugh, kind of ridiculously handsome and incredibly charming. What’s a girl to do?”

“I love you, peach.”

You reach over and cup his face, “I love you too. Just don’t call me mother.”

John laughs when you wink at him as you get up to get a drink, then he leans closer to Ronan, “We’ll call her that when she’s not listening.”

“I heard that!”

__

Truth be told, you were kind of hoping Jimmy would drop the whole haunted house thing, but you know him, so you knew that wasn’t actually going to happen. He says he found a place in Fernbrook which is about 45 minutes away, so by the time you got there, it was already dark and chilly.

Ronan is with your parents again tonight--they don’t mind, of course--so it’s just the four of you. Tess, Jimmy, John, and you. You’re sure there will be more people at the haunted house when you get there, but you wish you would have invited Amanda and Aurelio too.

“So, do you know anything about this place?” you ask, looking over at John’s face lit up by the dashboard. You look out the window as you drive past what you assume is the haunted house, then you look at John, “Uh, we passed it.”

John nods, “Yeah, I just noticed that too. And no, I don’t know anything.”

You hold tight to John’s right hand and look out the window as John continues to follow Jimmy down a dark road. John squeezes your hand a few times to get you to look at him, then he kisses the back of your hand.

“I love you.” he says, kissing your hand over and over.

“I love you too,” you smile as you tilt your head back against the seat and look at him, then you look out the window when you see Jimmy’s brake lights coming on. “Are we here?”

John lets go of your hand to turn, then he shrugs, “I guess.”

You look out the window at the abandoned building and furrow your brow, “Uh, weird.”

**

I look over at Y/N as she gets out of the car, then I quickly get out and walk over to take her hand. I agree, this is weird but this is the kind of shit Jimmy does. I know it’s not dangerous since he’s willingly bringing his wife here, and Tess would absolutely yell at him if it wasn’t safe.

Jimmy claps his hands as he gets out of his truck, then he grabs flashlights from the back, “Alright.”

Tess gestures to the building, “I thought we were going to a haunted house.”

Jimmy smiles, “We are, well, it’s an abandoned school, but it’s haunted, like really haunted.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she laughs, “Okay.”

Tess shoves his shoulder, “You didn’t say it was haunted. You just said it was abandoned.”

“Why are you both ganging up on me?” he laughs, and I chuckle as I take the flashlights. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Y/N looks up at me and holds tight to my hand, “Are you sure about this?”

“It’s just an empty building.”

“But empty buildings can be scary.” she whispers, and she sounds so tiny and cute.

I lean down and kiss her forehead, “You’ll be okay. I’m right here. I won’t let go of your hand the entire time.”

We all follow behind Jimmy as he walks up to the door and tries to pull it open but it’s stuck or locked. He gestures to the window and hops in, then he reaches out and helps Tess. I look at Y/N and gesture for her to go first, then I crawl through the window after Jimmy helps her in.

The foyer is just as spacious and empty as it feels. There’s broken glass and wood all over the floor, and I shine my light down to make sure everyone has on sensible shoes. Y/N steps on a piece of glass and gasps as she looks down, then she exhales and closes her eyes for a moment.

“Thank god I wore these boots.”

“We should split up,” Tess says, and I swear Y/N is going to pass out, “Stop! It’s not really haunted.”

Almost on cue, something behind the front desk falls and causes both the girls to scream loudly. They cling to each other and shine their lights over to it, and Jimmy walks over to check it out. He holds up what looks like part of the ceiling, then he flashes his light up.

“This place is falling apart, so we should be extra careful.”

“So, not only do we have to worry about someone being here, we also have to worry about the place falling in on us.” Y/N says, then she exhales. “Yeah, no, this is totally cool.”

Jimmy laughs as he reaches for Tess’ hand, “We’ll be fine.”

I look over at Y/N as she stands frozen in place, “You good?”

“Trying really hard to look tough right now but if we’re being honest, no.” she says, then she laughs as she looks at me, “I’m terrified. I’m terrified that something is going to happen and everyone will leave me in here alone.”

“Hey,” I cup her face, “Why the hell would I leave you behind?”

Y/N nods as she looks at me, “You’re John Wick, so you’re not really scared of anything anyway.”

“If I see a little kid or hear noises in the opposite direction of us, I’m grabbing you and getting the fuck out of here.” I say as she laughs. “Come on, it’s just an empty building, mouse.”

**

You look up at John and nod your head, then you hold tight to his hand as you walk through the empty hallway with him. Jimmy and Tess are already way ahead of you two, but you know she’s safe with him if something were to happen. Sure, he wasn’t the best cop, but he does still have some training if someone were to attack them.

Walking past every room, you shine your light in it and look around as if someone is just hiding around the corner, then you cling to John’s arm tighter when you freak yourself out over the thought.

Your heart beats faster in your chest when you see a face staring at you, but you realize it’s just your reflection in a mirror on the wall so you suppress a scream. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, then you look down the hallway.

The problem with the dark is that your eyes can make something up, something that you know isn’t there. You know that there isn’t a black figure standing down at the end of hallway but your eyes are making you see that. You shine your flashlight down the hall and relax when you see nothing there. You look over your shoulder to make sure no one is following you, then you look ahead and swallow hard.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say so softly that John leans down and shines his light up to see your face. You smile at him as you walk through the hall, then you finally catch up to Jimmy and Tess in a massive gym.

John looks at you and rubs your back, then he leans down to kiss you, “He wanted to actually scare you, but I told him it wouldn’t work.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” John laughs quietly, then he whispers, “He’s like a big brother to you, he’s just teasing you. It’s all in good fun, baby.”

Which is true. Jimmy really is like a big brother who constantly teases you and is trying to get a rise out of you.

“If I ask you to play along with me, will you?” you whisper, and John nods his head.

You know this was all Jimmy’s idea to get back at you for saying haunted houses weren’t scary. Even though it’s terrifying in here and about two minutes ago you almost screamed after seeing your own reflection, you’re about to fuck with Jimmy.

You look at John and smirk a little, then you frown, “I feel like someone is following us.”

“Really?” he asks, and you nod as you look at him. “I can go look around. This place isn’t that big, but it’s just us here.”

“What?” Jimmy walks over with Tess’ hand tight in his grasp.

John nods to you, “She says she feels like someone is in here.”

Tess looks at you and holds your gaze, then she smirks when you wink at her. She inhales deeply and shivers, “It doesn’t feel like it’s just us anymore.”

“Maybe you two should go look,” you suggest, and John nods his head. “We’ll just stay in here.”

John leans down to kiss you, then he cups your face, “Stay here, don’t move.”

“I’ll be right here.” you say as John holds your gaze.

Tess grabs your hand and holds it tight as John and Jimmy leave, then she looks at you, “I know for a fact Jimmy is shitting his pants right now.”

“Good,” you laugh, “I told him that haunted houses weren’t scary, so I’m going to get him back for trying to scare me. Come on.”

Holding hands with Tess, you quietly make your way to the back office in the gym. You both shine your flashlights around to find an exit door, then you find the door almost pushed shut by a big cabinet, but you’ll be able to squeeze through.

“Thank god, I’m not pregnant anymore,” you whisper as you squeeze through the door, then you tiptoe with Tess down the hall to a room where the two of you can hide in a closet.

“I’m so nervous for some reason.”

“I’m gonna text John to tell him where we are.” you say, quickly shooting John a text to let him know, then you hold your phone tight in your hand.

Tess puts her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing when there are footsteps outside the closet, then she looks at you and furrows her brow. You peek through the crack of the door to see who it is but you don’t see anyone, then you look at your phone.

We’re on the other end right now, we’re on our way.

You furrow your brow and show Tess the text, and she widens her eyes.

There were absolutely footsteps right outside the closet where you’re hiding. If John and Jimmy are at the other end, there’s no way that they could have gotten back fast enough to be outside the door.

“Who is out there?” Tess whispers, and you shrug.

“I was joking when I said I felt like someone was following us.” you say, then you text John again.

The joke is off. There’s really someone in here. Come get us NOW.

Tess exhales shakily and holds tight to your hand, “Let’s go find them.”

“Tess,” you whisper loudly, “No! I’m not really in the mood to be murdered.”

“Oh, come on,” she laughs, pulling your arm, “Let’s just get outside.”

Holding tight to her hand, you grimace every time you step on some crunchy glass, then you flash the light from each room to the next as you search for John. You finally get back to the front doors and look around for John, then you shrug.

You press your phone to your ear and listen as it rings but it goes to voicemail as you groan, “Come on.”

A loud bang comes from the room next to you, and you quickly turn around and shine your light into the room as you slowly walk into it. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest as you get closer, and you close your eyes and scream at the top of your lungs when John and Jimmy both jump out at you.

“Oh, you assholes!” you laugh, shoving both of them. “You are so mean to me!”

“You two wanted to scare us!” Jimmy laughs, “That’s not happening on my watch, little sis.”

Tess scoffs, “I can scare the shit out of you right now.”

“Oh, yeah, go on then.” Jimmy says, crossing his arms.

“I’m pregnant. Why do you think I passed on the wine your mom offered me the other night?” she says, holding his gaze as he widens his eyes.

You look at John and playfully narrow your eyes at him, “You’re mean!”

“Hey,” he grabs your hands and pulls you back to him, “Come on. You were gonna scare me too. It’s payback.”

“Still mean, Wick.” you say, then you look over at Jimmy as he stands there stunned over Tess’ news.

Tess scoffs and rolls her eyes, “I’m kidding. I’m not pregnant. God, you’re gullible.”

John takes your hand and holds it tight as you all walk back over to the window to get out, and he quickly crawls out first. He reaches in for you and helps you out, and you wrap your arms around his neck and hold tight to him as he helps you through the narrow window.

“Kinda craving pancakes.” Jimmy says, and you glare at him as he laughs, “Come on, you thought it was funny.”

You did, to be honest, but it’s fun to fuck with Jimmy.

You playfully shove his shoulder, then you laugh, “Yeah, okay, so it was a good scare. Still gotta get you back though.”

Jimmy laughs, “I’ll be waiting.”

John rubs your back and walks over to the car with you, then he opens the door and looks at Jimmy, “Stella’s diner?”

“Sounds good.” he nods, then he helps Tess in the car.

You look at John and sigh a little, “It was you outside the door, wasn’t it?”

“You think I was going to leave you in that building alone?” he says, and you soften a little. “Of course it was me. I was never going to leave you in there alone. Ran like hell when I heard that door squeak open and you coming out though.”

“You know I’m gonna have to get you back now too, right?”

John laughs as he leans down to kiss you, “Oh, I know you will.”

__

“Okay, daddy, here is costume number one.”

You hold Ronan with her back against your chest and your arm under her butt, then you head out and smile as John sits on the couch. He looks over and immediately starts to laugh when he sees Ronan practically being swallowed by the hot dog costume.

“Oh my god.” he laughs as he reaches over to pull the hood up a little so he can see her face, “A hot dog.”

“I thought it was really cute,” you laugh, then you set her in your lap, “It’ll keep her warm too.”

John laughs as Ronan coos, “You like this one? You do? I think you look very cute.”

“I think you’ll like the next one the most though.”

“You’re not gonna dress her up like me, are you?” he asks, and you widen your eyes.

You slap your palm to your forehead, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

John laughs as Ronan holds his finger and he kisses her hand, then he watches as you get up and head back into the guest bedroom to change her. You lay her down on the bed and quickly get her out of the hot dog costume, then you grab the red and black striped pants and smile as she looks up at you with her big gummy smile.

Despite being changed in and out of clothes, she doesn’t seem to care. She just stares up at you in awe as you change her. She’s always been such a good baby, and so damn happy too. It makes you feel like you’re doing something right.

You get the black long sleeved shirt over her head, then you get the costume and put her in it, immediately eliciting a loud laugh from you.

“Oh, you look so cute!”

“I can’t wait to see her.” John says from the living room, and you scoop Ronan up and walk out to him. He looks over and starts laughing again when he sees Ronan in the ladybug costume, then he nods, “That’s the one.”

You hold her up and smile, “Our little ladybug.”

Ronan sits in your arms and smiles at John, then she flings her arms around and garbles as you hand her off to him. You sit down on the couch next to them and smile as you reach over to pull the hood up, and John laughs when he sees the little antennas bobbling wildly.

“Definitely this costume.” he says, and you nod, “She looks so cute.”

You lean over to kiss Ronan, then you kiss John, “What are you going as?”

John laughs, “If I dress up, you have to.”

“Okay, okay…” you laugh, shaking your head, “No costumes for mom and dad.”

“Does mom have a costume for dad later though?” he asks, and you cock up your eyebrow.

You suck on your bottom lip as you look away, then you shrug and look at him again, “Maybe.”

“Is she sleeping in her room tonight?” he asks, smiling and hoping for the answer he so badly wants.

“Maaaybe,” you sing as you take Ronan from John since her costume is making her cheeks turn red.

John smiles when you lay Ronan down between the two of you to get her costume off, and he leans down and chomps loudly in the crook of her neck as she smiles and squirms. He makes silly noises at her to get her to smile big and wide, then he tickles her tummy as she flings her arms around.

“You’re such a good dad.” you smile, reaching up to touch his cheek, “I love seeing you with her. I know I say it all the time.”

“You’re a good mom too. Being parents with you is fun.”

You laugh, “Yeah, it is pretty fun.”

John leans down to kiss Ronan, then he looks at you as you smile at him. He wiggles his brows a little, and you laugh as you get up to pack Ronan’s bag for the night.

“Yes, John, it’s a date.” you say, then you look at him as he smiles wide.

__

It’s Ronan’s first Halloween but since she’s only almost two months old, she obviously can’t trick or treat, so she’ll just get pushed around in her stroller. She’s dressed up in her costume since she’s just so damn cute!

You were planning on just taking her around your neighborhood, but you were invited to go trick or treating with Amanda, Aurelio, and their kids. Tess and Jimmy are tagging along as well, of course.

“Three peas in a pod.” John says when Amanda waves at you and rushes over to hug Tess. “You three are inseparable.”

“She’s a good friend.” you say, then you smile when Amanda gasps and laughs at Ronan in John’s arms, “We wanted to make sure she’d be warm.”

Amanda laughs as she pinches Ronan’s cheek, “You look so cute!”

You watch as John holds her up a little, and you smile when you see Benji dressed as a zombie, tattered clothing and fake blood on his hands and face. You let out a small scream when he shambles over to you like a zombie, then you give him a thumbs up.

“Very cool costume, Benji.”

Amanda laughs, “Dad let him watch The Walking Dead one night, and now he’s obsessed. Does that make me a terrible mom? I’m not sure yet.”

John chuckles as he shakes his head, “We watched Rambo the other night while Ro was with us.”

“She’s three months old. She’s got no clue.” you laugh and look at him, “Now when she’s 8, I’m not so sure.”

“Well,” Amanda laughs and shrugs, “I figured he’d be scared but he’s just obsessed now. Aurelio still censors some of the really bad stuff, but yeah, he’s all about zombies now.”

You smile as Benji walks over and pretends to bite Harper’s arm, which causes her to scream with laughter--she’s dressed up as Peppa Pig. You look over and watch as Finn toddles toward them in his Buzz Lightyear costume that he hasn’t taken off in a week, then he runs over to you and reaches up.

“Hey, Buzz,” you smile as you pick him up, “Hasn’t taken it off yet?”

Tess shakes her head and crosses her arms, “Barely. I got it off of him long enough to give him a bath this afternoon. Look at this bug!”

John laughs as he hands Ronan off to Tess, then he ruffles Finn’s hair, “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey, guys, this is Lauren. She’s gonna join us tonight.” Amanda says, gesturing to the tall and thin woman next to her. “Lauren, this is Tess, her husband, Jimmy. And this is Y/N and her husband, John.”

You smile as you reach out to shake her hand, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she smiles, then she shakes John’s hand. “My husband, Anthony, is inside right now, but these are my kids, Sophie and Dylan.”

Sophie is dressed as a princess and clinging to her mom’s leg, and Dylan is a pirate who is staring over at Benji and most likely wanting to play.

Lauren leans down and smiles, “Go ahead, baby.”

You set Finn down and smile, “I bet Finn would like to play too.”

Finn will play with anyone, so he walks over and starts talking--as best as he can at 15 months--to Dylan, who takes his hand and timidly walks over to Benji.

“I can’t wait for Ro to be bigger. Look at that!” you smile as the kids play together and run away from Benji chasing them. You look over at John to say something to him, but he’s not watching the kids. He’s looking at the house.

Even though you’ve been with John for two years now and feel as though you know every thought running through his head, he’s still maintained a certain level of mystery. There are times when you look at him and wonder what the hell he’s thinking and his face is so stoic and emotionless that you’re left completely in the dark. For example, right now, he’s staring at the man coming out of the house and his face isn’t giving a single thing away. His face isn’t but you see him clench his fist once before he flexes his hand and exhales. He’s getting ready. For what you don’t know yet. Surely he wouldn’t punch this random guy on Halloween night when children, including your daughter, are around.

John is still staring at the man as he comes out of the house, so you reach over and slip your hand into his grip. He looks down at you and softens his face, and you knit your brows together silently asking what’s going on. John looks at him again and takes a deep breath, then he tenses up.

“Hey, John.” the man says, and you look at him as he puts his arm around Lauren, “I see you’ve met my wife and kids.”

John doesn’t say anything, so you do.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” you reach out and shake his hand, “John’s wife.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about John’s wife.”

You jerk your head back a little as you blush. You hate the thought of people just knowing who you are. You hate the thought that you could be brought up in conversation while assassins sit around a table and drinking expensive alcohol at the hotel. It’s not really something you can escape though, you are John Wick’s wife.

“All good things, uh, from Amanda and Aurelio, by the way!” he adds to make you smile, but he only gets more nervous since John is looking at him.

You tug John’s hand discreetly, then everyone turns their attention to the kids laughing but you and John look at each other. He presses a kiss to the back of your hand and finally relaxes.

It’s okay. He doesn’t say it but his body language does. He’s relaxed. Everything is fine but your interest is definitely piqued.

“Well, should we get going?” Amanda asks, and everyone nods.

Tess gets Ronan back into her stroller and walks over to take Finn’s hand, and you all head down the street together. You feel John’s hand firm on your back as he walks with you, and you both slow down a little as the kids run up to a house.

“Who is he?”

“Anthony DeLuca. Used to work--”

You laugh, “I know that, but why are you so tense?”

“I don’t like when that life sometimes filters into our life.” he says, and you look up at him, “I was worried until I realized he’s married with kids. He’s probably thinking all the same things I am. He’s probably worried for his kids and his wife.”

“Did he retire?”

John shrugs, “I think so, but I’m not sure. I just know what that guy is capable of.”

“He knows what you’re capable of too,” you say as you turn to face him, still keeping one hand on Ronan’s stroller, “I’d be more scared of you than of him any day. Not that I am. You make silly voices at our baby and pout when I don’t kiss you.”

John starts to laugh finally, then he places his hands on your waist, “I just worry about you and Ro. Always. Constantly.”

“I know,” you look over at Lauren and Anthony as they glance at you and John, “I’m sure he’s over there reassuring her too that everything is going to be okay. Our children are here. Nothing is going to happen.”

“Yeah.” John exhales, then he reaches up to cup your cheek, “When did you become the level-headed one in the relationship?”

You laugh loudly as you lean up to kiss him, “I have no clue.”

__

The rest of the night went really well. Ronan got plenty of compliments on her costume even though she fell asleep. Finn got tons of candy that he definitely won’t be able to eat, and Benji was already so hyped up on sugar that Amanda hid half of his candy.

John ended up walking behind everyone with Anthony as they talked, and every time you looked back they were smiling and laughing, so it feels good to know that they’re putting the past behind them. They never worked together and there was no competition between them when they did work. John was just worried. He soon realized that Anthony was crazy about his kids and his wife--just like John is about you and Ronan.

You were planning on stopping by your parents house to show off Ronan’s costume but since she’s so tired, you’ll just have to bring her by tomorrow afternoon instead, which is fine since your feet hurt from walking all night. Right now all you want to do is lay in bed and watch a movie.

**

Heading upstairs, I peek into Ronan’s room and see she’s still asleep, her trusty sidekick, Bleu, fast asleep on the floor next to her crib. I walk down the hall to our bedroom and smile when I see Y/N sprawled out on the bed. I crawl onto the bed and lay down on top of her, and she lets out a loud groan before she starts to laugh.

“Hi,” she smiles, and I lean down to kiss her.

“I see Ro is in her room.”

Y/N cocks her brow up, “I’m not changing my clothes. I bought some lingerie but I don’t wanna get up. Look, I’ll just lay here and you can do whatever you want to me.”

“That’s not fun.” I laugh, and she wraps her arms around my neck, “Maybe you just need me to…warm you up.”

“Mm,” she bites her bottom lip and nods, “Yeah.”

I kneel on the bed and smile at her as I pull her shirt over her head, then I toss it aside and lay back down. I gently kiss down her neck to her collarbone, then I take her skin between my lips and suck softly on her plump breast before leaning up to kiss her. I scoot up a little more and feel her wrapping her legs around my waist, then I slide my tongue into her mouth as we kiss.

Y/N tilts her head back and closes her eyes as I kiss down her body, worshiping every curve and dip, then she lets out a small laugh when my lips graze her hipbone. I kiss along the waistband of her jeans as I unbutton them, then I sit up and pull them off, along with her underwear as she lifts her hips to help. She reaches out for me and hums against my lips, then she’s pulling at my jeans, so I quickly sit up and undress myself until I’m just in my boxers. I feel her trying to tug my boxers down, so I help her and pull them off, watching as she looks down.

“Have I ever told you that you have a beautiful penis?”

I laugh as I get comfortable on top of her, “I think I’ve heard you say it a time or two.”

“Hmm,” she smiles with her eyes closed, “It’s very beautiful, Mr. Wick.”

My cock brushes against her pussy as we kiss, and she lets out a small breath every time I slowly thrust my hips to feel my cock against her clit. I continue to thrust my hips until I feel myself finally sliding between her legs slickly. I lean up a little to hold her gaze as I move in deeper, and she clenches her jaw as her eyes roll shut.

“Let it out,” I whisper, running my thumb over her lips and prying her mouth open, “Let me hear it.”

She opens her mouth and lets out a loud moan, “Fuck!”

“Look at me,” I say softly, then I look down to take her left hand and intertwine my fingers with hers before I do the same with her other hand and pin her arms above her head. Y/N holds my gaze as I thrust my hips, but I can tell she’s trying her hardest not to close her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all night.”

She looks deep into my eyes as I jerk my hips harder, but she eventually closes her eyes as she begins to shake a little, breathing heavily along with me. I let go of her hands so she can have control of her body as she climaxes, and she reaches up to pull me down to kiss her.

“Ride me,” I say softly in her ear, and she smiles as she nods her head. I lay down on my back and look at her as she sits up to unhook her bra and toss it aside before she crawls on top of me, “I wanna see your beautiful face.”

She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I know she never believes me when I tell her that, but it’s true. I also know she worries that I’m not as attracted to her since having a baby and that couldn’t be further from the truth. I worshiped her body before and I do now as well--not that it even looks any different--and I’m still absolutely fucking crazy for her. I found her to be incredibly attractive before having a baby, especially during, and after. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and I can’t believe that she doesn’t see it sometimes.

I close my eyes and hold tight to her hips to help guide her on my cock, and I open my eyes and look up at her as she rests her hands on my thighs and rolls her hips, both of us smiling at each other. I watch my cock sliding in and out of her perfect pussy, and she reaches down for my hands and pulls me up to her, burying my face in between her breasts. I kiss up to her stomach to her breast, then I lightly suck on her nipple as she smiles and caresses my arms and back.

“Fuck, John, you feel so good,” she whispers in my ear, and I lean back to hold her gaze as she ruts in my lap. She presses her hand to her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut, then she buries her face in the crook of my neck as I squeeze her tighter in my arms as she unravels and rides out another orgasm, cursing and moaning my name.

Holding tight to her, I lay her back down on the bed since I know I’m not going to last much longer with these noises she’s making, and I quickly slide back between her legs as we both pant loudly. I fuck her harder and faster than before, and I take her left leg and place it over my shoulder as I move in deeper with a low groan. Her eyes roll shut as I kiss her leg up to her knee, then she whimpers loudly and nods her head, silently telling me to keep going. Y/N sucks on her fingers and reaches down to rub circles on her clit as she looks at me, and I wet my thumb and move her hand so I can do it instead, which makes her smile.

I groan as I jerk my hips, “So fucking wet. You are so fucking wet.”

“Best pussy you’ve ever had.” she whispers, and I nod and lean down to kiss her as I thrust my hips harder to bring on my orgasm.

I keep my lips pressed to hers as I roll my hips, then I jerk them hard every few seconds as I spill inside of her, knocking the breath out of her every time. Y/N frantically kisses me as she clings to my biceps, then she moans against my mouth as she digs her nails into my back, coming one more time. I let out a small groan as I finish inside of her, then I sit up and look down at her as she lays on the bed and pants.

Y/N reaches up and touches my chest as I kneel on the bed, then she laughs when I take her hand and kiss the back of it. She sits up and pretends to light a cigarette as I laugh, then she ‘blows’ the smoke out and lays back down.

“Yeah,” I laugh, nodding my head, “It was good.”

**

You look up at John as he wipes the sweat off his forehead, then he exhales loudly and leans down to kiss you softly a few more times. You cup his face in your hands and smooch him so hard that he starts to laugh, then he puts his finger up and heads into the bathroom.

After a few moments, he comes out and sits down to clean between your legs, then he wipes himself off and tosses the washcloth into the hamper near the dresser. He crawls back into bed with you and wraps his left arm over your waist as the two of you look at each other, and you smile softly when he rubs his thumb over your cheek.

“I know this is the wrong time to say it because we’re both laying here naked, but I miss Ro being in here with us.”

John nods, “Figured I’d go get her in a bit when we’re ready for bed. Just needed you to myself for a little while.”

“I appreciate it.” you whisper to him, “I appreciate you still wanting me.”

“I’m always gonna want you,” he says so softly that your eyes fill with tears, “Nothing is going to change that, remember?”

You nod as a warm tear slides down your cheek, “You just make me feel so loved and wanted and beautiful.”

“Because you are loved and wanted and beautiful.” he whispers, and you laugh tearfully.

“I’m so glad that we’re not like half the couples we saw tonight who just secretly hate each other.”

John shakes his head, “Yeah, that one couple just openly fought in front of everyone, even their kids.”

“Because they’ve grown to hate each other. Sometimes when you’re with someone for so long, those cute little quirks you liked at first end up being what you hate in the end.”

John slowly rubs his thumb over your ribs as he looks at you, “I could never hate you.”

“I could never hate you either.” you whisper, smiling softly, “I think what you and I have is something so unique and special.”

“I agree. Couldn’t imagine my life without you, peach.”

You inhale deeply and close your eyes as John gently kisses your temple over and over, then you look at him, “I got an idea. You in?”

“Always.” he whispers without second thought, and you get up from the bed.

Grabbing John’s hand, you tiptoe past Ronan’s room and peek to make sure she’s okay, then you head downstairs as you giggle. John has no idea what the plan is but he’s following along anyway.

“Where are we going? We’re naked.”

“I know!” you laugh, then you open the patio door and run out, immediately jumping into the pool. You come up for air and smooth your hair back as you look up at John standing in all his naked glory in front of you with his hands on his hips, “Get in! Unless you’re…chicken.”

John laughs, “Why would I be chicken to get into our own pool?”

“If you weren’t, you would have gotten in by now, so…” you imitate a chicken as John laughs, then you stand up straight, “Come on, Wick. The water is warm.”

A wide smile spreads across your face as John jumps into the pool, and you squeeze your eyes shut and laugh when water splashes everywhere. He comes up for air and grabs you by your legs, then he throws you over his shoulder as you scream with laughter.

“You know…” John puts you down so he can smooth his hair back, then he grabs you, “You’re very sexy when you talk shit.”

You laugh loudly, then you wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him before he spins you around and hugs you tight in his arms. You tilt your head back and smile with your eyes closed, then you moan when you feel John slowly slipping back between your legs as he kisses up your neck.

“You gotta be quiet though.”

John laughs, “Oh, me? That’s all you, peach.”

“No, you always lose it when we have sex. Can’t have the neighbors knowing we’re out here.” you tease, and John laughs as he walks over to pin you between the wall and his body.

You hold tight to each other as he slowly jerks his hips, then he reaches up and slides his thumb into your mouth as you whimper. You close your eyes and cling to John as he thrusts his hips, and you lean your forehead against his, surrendering to him.

__

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#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick imagine #fic: hold my hand #i know people on ao3 weren't fans of john's pov but idk i wrote this before they told me and i didn't want to change it lmao #i'm a little stubborn sometimes #anyway #i hope you all enjoyyyy #i might have to reblog this a few times because apparently tumblr hates me so people never see when i update #and the tagging system is shit #ok i love yall bye

[layce2015]

John Wick Chapter 4 (John Wick x Female!Reader)

With the price on his head ever increasing, legendary hit man John Wick and his wife, (y/n), take their fight against the High Table global as they seek out the most powerful players in the underworld, from New York to Paris to Japan to Berlin.

Chapter 1: Death Is The Only Freedom

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"I am the way into the city of woe. I am the way into eternal pain." The Bowery King recites as he walks along the alley and down a subway tunnel to a underground hideout. "I am the way to go among the lost! Before me there were no created things! But those that last forever! As do I! Abandon all hope, you who are about to. You are now in the presence of the fucking king!" He yells as he enters the hideout and laughs.

Meanwhile, as he was going on his speech, John Wick and his wife, (y/n), were practicing on their punches. John was punching a tall board with a bloody rope around it, from all his punches he threw at it, and (y/n) was using a punching bag. As she punched it, she was letting out every aggression, every anger, every frustration out on the bag. The death of her sister, being kidnapped, getting shot at, getting beat up, losing their home.

It was only six months ago when you and John were just a happy married couple, excited for what the future held. But the way everything went, it feels like a lifetime ago; how the hell would (y/n) ever go back to being normal after knowing all of this and everything that has happened, assuming that her and John will get out of this alive. 

The Bowery King comes up to a barrel and lights it on fire, which then spreads to form a pentagon shape around the floor John and (y/n) were on as they kept punching their respective items. "You and your wife ready, John?" The Bowery King asked as he holds up a couple of suits hanging on a coat rack with one hand. 

John and (y/n) stop what they were doing and both of then turn to face him. "Yeah." John replied while his wife just nodded and the Bowery King chuckles.

At the desert, as the sun was rising, four horseback riders were charging across the sandy area, three turban clad men were on three white horses while one black horse carried John and (y/n). Both of them had guns. They fired a few shots at the men and eventually John killed one as he fell off of his horse.

Off in the distance, the Elder could see and he knew it was only a matter of moments before John Wick would make his way to him. 

As the chase continues, (y/n) was able to kill the second man and John got the last man before they stopped. They dismount their horse as they come up to The Elder, who had a small camp set up. "Mr and Mrs Wick." The Elder greets at the couple as they walk up to him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" The Elder asked, calmly. Then John and (y/n) kneel down on one knee as John speaks. "My freedom." He said and the Elder looks him and (y/n) over. "If you came here thinking you could be free, or end this, by killing me, then you are mistaken." The Elder said and (y/n) frowns while John turns his head away in disappointment.

"My death will not change the outcome any more than you can change your nature. None of us can escape who we are, and no one escapes the Table. And the only way John Wick will ever have freedom or peace, now or ever, is in death." The Elder said and John looks back at him. "I know." He said and the Elder shakes his head then stands up.

"I'm afraid you and your wife have come a very long way for nothing." The Elder said. "Yeah..." John said and he and (y/n) stands up. "...not really." He said then he gives a nod towards (y/n) and she raises her gun and fires it, killing The Elder point blank. The couple glare at the man's body as it flops back then she holsters her gun. They turn and start to head back on the horse and figure out their next move.

Meanwhile, back in New York at the Continental, Winston was informed by the Harbinger that the Continental was condemned by the Marquis, which was signed by the twelve members of the Table. The Harbinger then informed Winston that the Marquis was waiting for him and that the hotel must be evacuated in one hour, so Winston and Charon made their way to the Marquis office.

"Ned Kelly's final words as the hangman slipped the noose around his neck were Such is life. Such is life, can you imagine the acceptance, the defiance?" Winston asked Charon as they walked the hallway to the front desk of the Marquis' office. "Today is not the day you will die. Of that, I am sure." Charon said as they stop at the front desk and Winston turns to his old friend.

"You have the unshakable faith of David, my friend, but you shouldn't be here. This will not be pleasant." Winston said. "Such is life, sir." Charon said and Winston gives him an impressed look right as a man comes up to them and leads them into the large office of the Marquis. 

"My father used to say, How you do anything is how you do everything. Called it the first and the last rule of life." The Marquis said as he has his back to Winston and looks out at the city of New York through his large window.

"You believe in rules...Mr Manager?" The Marquis asked as he turns to Winston. "Oh, I do." Winston said, firmly. "And what of consequences?" The Marquis asked. "Of course. And second chances." Winston replied. "Ah. That's where we differ, you and I." The Marquis said as he gestures between him and Winston, who kept looking over at the hour glass on the Marquis' desk as the sand on the top kept getting smaller and smaller.

"Second chances at the refuge of men who fail." The Marquis said and he goes over to his desk and started to put sugar in his tea, then once he was done with that, puts the spoon in his mouth to wipe off any remnants of sugar and tea. He pulls the spoon out of his mouth while Winston fidgets a bit in place, he didn't want to show it but he was getting nervous and it was getting worse the longer this went on.

"There are those on the Table who blame this, um, atrocity on New York. They believe it's this city. The Table has indulged this fucking place for too long. And look where that has gotten us." The Marquis said then he takes a sip of his tea. "I shot him." Winston said and the Marquis chuckles as he sets his cup of tea down. "And yet he lives, polluting everything he touches. Especially, with the help of his wife, who you did not take care of." The Marquis said as he gets a stern look on his face and starts to walk around his desk.

"Marquis, respectfully, my hotel..." Winston started to argue. "Your hotel?" The Marquis said, stunned, and Winston closes his mouth. "If I might, sir?" Charon asked and the Marquis looks at him, surprised. "By all means." He said and Charon takes a step forward. "The Continentals and their management are a reminder to all who still behind The Table, that none of us are above the rules." Charon said.

"And yet we are here." Marquis said. "Sir, Mr Wick..." Charon said but the Marquis starts to grow angry. "We're not here because of John Wick and his wife. He is simply the face of your failure, Mr Manager." Marquis said as he glares over at Winston then he walks over to his desk.

"The sand in that glass is merely an echo of my remaining patience." Marquis said, as he gestures to the hourglass, and Winston looks over at it just in time to see the sand spills out the remaining grain until it was gone. 

Once that happened, they felt the ground shake and a loud booming noise. The Continental had been destroyed. Winston and Charon watch on in horror as Marquis turns to them. "You are no longer New York." He said and Winston balls up his fist. "You are nothing. You are Excommunicado." Marquis said, with a hard glare at Winston, as he walks up to him. 

"And as such..." he said as he pulls out his gun and aims it at Winston. "...you no longer need the services of a concierge." He said then he aims the gun at Charon and shoots him in the chest.

Charon's eyes grow wide as he falls back and the Marquis holsters his gun. Winston stared at Charon in shock as the Marquis walks up to Winston, stops and glares at him for a moment then walks a few steps before stopping and looks over his shoulder. Winston goes over to Charon, kneels down next to him and takes his hand in his as blood was seeping out on the floor.

"It has been an honor, my friend." Charon said as he dies. "It should have been me." Winston said, shakily. "Yes. But it wasn't." Marquis said and Winston looks up at him. "Now, you think about why that is,and perhaps one of us will have benefited from this conversation." Marquis said and he and his right hand man walk out of the office.

"Bring me Caine." The Marquis tells his right hand man in French before they split off.

In Japan, after talking to his daughter about his schedule, how the other Continentals are feeling about what happened in New York and the fear that the High Table will come after him next, Shimazu walks through the kitchen of his hotel and comes up to two large guards. "Don't let anyone in." He tells them and they let him through to an outside area where two figures were standing off in the distance.

"I assume you are finally at peace." He asked John Wick. John looks over at his wife, who was looking down at the ground with her arms folded, before he looks over at Shimazu. "Apparently not." He said as (y/n) also turns to face him. "Killing the Elder was a mistake, my friend." Shimazu said and he gestures over to a table that had some food.

"Their response was the destruction of the New York Continental. My daughter fears we are next." Shimazu said as he walks over to the table and (y/n) gasps at this news. "Winston?" John questioned, concerned, as he and (y/n) walk over to the table. "Alive, but they executed his concierge to prove a point." Shimazu said.

"No..." (y/n) whispered, in soft despair, while John looks down in guilt. They sit down as Shimazu pours them a cup of tea. "Have you given any thought to where this ends?" Shimazu asked John, who doesn't reply, and (y/n) looks over at her husband, with worry.

"The Table will never stop. You know this. It only takes life and only gives death." Shimazu said as he pushes two cups of tea to the couple and sits down across from them. "Koji...For troubling you like this....I'm sorry." John said as he looks up at his friend. "Friendship means little when it's convenient." Shimazu said and the three raise their glass and they sip their tea, not knowing that trouble was coming to their door.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #john wick x reader #john wick fanfic #john wick imagine #john wick x you #john wick #john wick 4 #john wick chapter 4 #keanu reeves #movie fan fiction #fan fic writing

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Drabble No. 10

Summary: “John….” you gasped, reaching over to touch him softly as he sat himself up too, reaching over to tilt your chin up. “Who did this to you?” he said, his voice low. His eyes were dark, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Pairing: John Wick x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 720

Warnings: mentions of dead spouses, implied violence, injuries, a little fluff

Drabble Masterlist

You never thought you would find yourself alone. Here. In this hotel. 

John had told you about the Continental when he had explained your world to him. 

Because he wanted to be honest with you from the beginning, even though he was out. For good. 

He wanted to tell you, before you fell in love with him. 

He didn’t know you already had back then and that nothing he could tell you about him would change that.

Because you fell in love with John. The guy who mowed your lawn after your husband died. The guy who brought you flowers every week. Who had a library in his house that was bigger than yours. 

John and you had been neighbours for many years. You had known his late wife. You had been there when he had to build back his house after an explosion you only learned later was intentional and no accident at all. 

You were living with him in this new house now. Your house next door sold a year ago.

Everything was perfect. 

Until John disappeared three weeks ago.

The past seemed to have a way to suck him back.

He just went out to deliver some of the books he had finished binding to the post office and he hadn’t been back since then. 

You were sick with worry.

John kept the dangerous part of his past life to himself. But you knew Aurelio, the only person he was still in contact with.

So this is where you went after John disappeared. 

And Aurelio promised to make some calls and get back to you. 

But then he disappeared too. 

You called the police, you called everyone you could think of. 

And apparently you were getting close because last night after you packed the groceries into your car someone had threatened you, choking you until you almost couldn’t breathe to stop asking questions. That you would never find him. 

You knew there was only one place left to go. 

Nobody really spared you any glace as you walked through the entry hall of the hotel. You took a deep breath as you made your way towards the front desk, a tall man looking up at you with a pleasant smile. 

“Welcome to the Continental Hotel. How may I help you?” he asked and you gave him a small smile in return. 

“I am looking for someone. I don’t know if he’s here….”

“What is the name?”

“John Wick,” you said and the man's lips pressed into a thin line, looking at you for a long moment. 

“One moment,” he said and you nodded, nervously sucking your bottom lip in as the man turned away from you and walked into the back office. 

If he wouldn’t be here he would have….

“If you would follow me please,” you jumped, not having noticed the man had returned and followed him. 

–

The man, Charon, had led you into one of the suites of the hotel, telling you to wait here and that John was indeed in the hotel, but currently not available. 

You were relieved. 

Even though you knew he technically wasn’t allowed back to the hotel, you knew he was safe. 

You must have fallen asleep at some point, waking up to the room in darkness and a warm body next to yours. 

“John,” you whispered and he stirred. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m here…” he mumbled and you sat yourself up, blindly searching for the lightswitch. 

Tears came to your eyes when you finally saw him, his whole face littered with cuts and bruises.

“John….” you gasped, reaching over to touch him softly as he sat himself up too, reaching over to tilt your chin up. 

“Who did this to you?” he said, his voice low. His eyes were dark, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Did… What?” you asked, tears running down your cheeks. 

”Who choked you?” he asked and you closed your eyes, shaking your head. 

“I… I don’t know. I was looking for you and someone found me and told me to stop asking questions… John… Where were you?” you asked, looking at him. 

He shook his head. 

“Not now,” he whispered and pulled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. He just looked at you for a moment before he kissed you softly.

#my fic #drabble #john wick #john wick x fem reader #Keanu reeves #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #prompt

[crow-the-unknown]

Killing Strangers - an Avalanche mob/gang AU from multiple POVs (first three are Nate, Cale, and then Gabe's)

The rain was heavy and loud in Nate’s ears, the noise of the road dimmed by the alley. He hissed in a breath and touched lightly at his side, it came away deep red for a moment before the rain washed it away. He was so screwed. Gabe was gonna kill him. Nate staggered underneath a doorway and let his legs give in. He felt lightheaded and the water was blurring his vision. Distantly, he thought he heard the shrill whine of a dog— but that might have been his imagination. He needed to stitch himself up, he couldn’t die here. Not like this. 

At least if they found him, he’d get a nice funeral. Maybe one day Cale could find a way to forgive him for leaving too soon. Maybe he’d find someone new. Nate hoped so, the kid deserved that much. The neon world began to fade away. Nate fell into unconsciousness, alone and dreaming of him.

...

“Nate. Nate.”

Cale? Nate’s ears were ringing and he slowly blinked awake. He tried to sit up,but someone pushed him back. Nate’s vision cleared and Cale’s rosy face came into focus. Pain was a distant thing. Confusion struck. He was supposed to be dead. Why wasn’t he dead? What the hell? Once again Nate tried to sit up despite clearly being injured. He struggled against Cale’s hold.

“Nate,” Cale scolded harshly and he rolled his eyes. “Nate, you stubborn bastard, just sit still,” he huffed.

Nate stopped, settling for resting back on his elbows even though it was incredibly uncomfortable. He had no clue where he was. The room was dimly lit, and steel was cold beneath him. He glared at the wall, and Cale smiled a bit. A few quiet moments passed, the only sound was the faint shouting of voices down the hall and the buzz of the ceiling light. Absently, Nate registered one of the voices as Gabe’s. Nate turned to Cale, wincing as his side stung again. “Where are we?” he asked softly.

Cale looked around, making sure they were alone purely out of instinct and not worry. He took a seat beside the metal table Nate was laying on and ran his hand shakily through his messy brown hair. He adjusted his suit jacket and touched at his peach fuzz nervously. “Downtown. A few blocks away from where I found you,” responded Cale.

God, Cale sounded so tired and worried. Nate felt a stab of guilt over giving him a scare like that. He shouldn’t have gone out on his own. He was lucky to be alive. Well, he wouldn’t be if Cale hadn’t followed him. Nate owed him. Nate didn’t suspect just an apology would do either.

“Gabe tracked down the guys we were after. He’s… dealing with them now,” insinuated Cale with a notable look at the door, his voice becoming laced with something dark.

“Did they have the…?” asked Nate, knowing Cale would have an answer.

Cale looked down at the floor, brows furrowed. He didn’t seem disappointed, just pissed. “No,” he replied with a small shake of his head. “They’re getting what’s coming to them, though.”

Nate flung his legs over the table, sitting up tentatively. He held up a hand to signal he was okay when Cale immediately looked up, expression wary. Nate searched Cale’s frustrated features. “Gabe tell you to back off?”

Cale just barely managed a laugh and he shrugged. He moved a bit too mechanically, swaying side to side a bit and he stood. Cale readjusted his watch absentmindedly. The face was fractured, but Nate knew why he still wore it. It was a symbol of why Cale was here in the first place. A reminder. Only Nate knew the full story. “Yeah. Yeah he did. Sent me to come look after you once Pavel finished stitching you up.”

“He’s giving them the right treatment, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I know.” Cale helped Nate to his feet. “But I would have given them hell on a platter. I would have given them even worse than they deserved for you.”

Nate grinned, and it was a cruel, bright thing. He laughed faintly, gripping his wounded side again as it ached. “I know you would have, Cale. I think that’s why he stopped you.”

They turned down the fluorescent-green lit hall, Nate leaning heavily on Cale for support. The shrieking got louder with each step. Halfway to the next set of doors Cale announced out of the blue, “You almost died, Nate. You know that? Pavel barely saved you in time… you—” Nate winced at the way Cale’s voice caught— “you were barely even breathing when I got you to Pavel. I felt you slip away in my arms…”

Cale drew in a sharp breath and Nate’s chest tightened in guilt. Nate looked up to him, brows raised with sympathy. Cale readjusted himself so that Nate didn’t slip from his hold. He sniffed and used his free hand to wipe at the corners of his eyes. Nate looked down again and pursed his lips. “I— I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” agreed Cale quietly, but his voice was not forgiving.

The twenty-four year old pushed through the doors and immediately the screams of men pierced the air. Cale’s expression was firm set, his eyes cold and unloving as he brought Nate in. Gabe was standing in a single beam of light before a chair. Nate could see the blood dripping from his hands. Steel glinted in the light, and the doors slammed shut behind them. Nate gave Gabe a cheeky, short lived smile as his boss’ cruel profile turned to him. “Gabe,” greeted Nate blankly.

“Nate.” Gabe’s jaw ticked, and he dipped his head curtly Nate’s way. Then, he turned back to his work without so much as a word. Nate took a seat and watched the show with the others, satisfaction easing his pain like a tonic.

***

Cale should have known Nate would leave on his own. They’d all been at the meeting Gabe had called, sat in their wide circle to discuss. A group of guys had been infringing on their borders and smuggling supplies out of their warehouses, which Cale knew would only look worse on paper should things go… south. The same guys they’d suspected had also broken into one of their safehouses and stolen various important papers and valuables. They’d become a big problem, so Gabe had rallied all the guys to a discreet location and they’d made plans. Their big guys— men like Valeri, Nate, and Kurtis— would deal with the dirty stuff. Meanwhile someone like Cale would go under the radar, work in secret, just like any other job. Things like this tended to get messy, but Cale didn’t mind so long as they stuck to their assignments.

Nate had not stuck to his assignment. They weren’t even supposed to be going out that night, especially not alone. Nate was usually smart enough to at least bring back up, but lucky for him Cale could tell exactly what the twenty-seven year old was planning. The second Gabe had gone through what he wanted, with Erik offering obvious solutions to the boss’ problems as usual, Cale had seen how tense Nate got. He’d noticed the way his jaw ticked, the way he sat up, and the way his eyes glinted with ambition. Cale was trained to notice things like that.

Gabe had called their meeting to a close and the guys all paired off, laughing with each other and making plans to go out and have some fun. It was painfully obvious to see Nate break off on his own and Cale had gone straight to Gabe. He’d caught the Swede just as he was about to walk through the doors to his exit. “Landy,” he hissed, voice urgently quiet.

“Cale?” Gabe replied warily, voice instantly dropping that authority he led meetings with as his brows furrowed with genuine concern.

Cale pulled him off to the side behind a tall pillar. “It’s Nate.”

Gabe sighed and rolled his eyes, unsurprised yet still concerned. 

“I’m going to trail him. I think he’s headed west to his spot where he last… Well,” Cale looked around, best stay careful, “you know. Will you get some of the guys to come with? He might need them if things get scrappy.”

Gabe redid his maroon suit’s button and adjusted his deep red tie against the stark black dress shirt he wore. Only he wore things like that. It was a symbol of his status. Some stories said his suits had started off white and the blood he’d had to shed to get to the top was stained into what he wore. Gabe embraced the stories though— despite their untruthfulness—, because they worked. No one messed with their group, and Gabe was a huge reason for it. The nicknames they gave him didn’t even begin to scrape the surface of what Gabe was really capable of. Cale had seen what the man could do, the lengths he’d go to get a job done… it was cruelly fascinating. And in some sick, twisted way, Cale couldn’t help but respect him.

Gabe snapped Cale back to the matter at hand with his response, “Oh, Cale. You don’t need backup when you have me.”

The conversation ended there and Gabe was already headed to the weapons room. Cale shook himself out of it and rushed out the exit. He hurried down the steps and searched the street. Which route would you take, Nate? The answer was near instant. Nate’s recognizable figure was standing by the road, waving for a taxi. Cale stayed out of the sidewalk and watched from behind the building’s gate. He hesitated, watching closely as Nate got into the taxi that had pulled up. It started heading west. Cale smiled faintly despite the anxiety in his veins. He was right. Nate was so stupid.

Cale immediately turned down the next alley and took the fastest route he knew. He was going to kill that man. Cale pulled out his phone and typed quickly as he walked. He sent Gabe a single word, knowing that his boss would know exactly where to go. Luckily enough, Cale wasn’t too worried about walking there. The spot Nate was going wasn’t too far from the building they’d met at, and Cale trusted Nate just enough to know he could  handle himself just fine. This of course, excused nothing, but it at least managed to calm Cale’s worries a little bit. Well, that and also the fact that he’d placed a tracker on Nate because of the last time he’d run off on his own— per Gabe’s orders.

It’d been a couple months ago, and the stakes weren’t nearly as dire as this. Some guys from one of the other upcoming gangs, one a lot smaller than the one they were dealing with now, were causing trouble and Gabe had wanted a group to go out and deal with them. Simple stuff at first, just talk and a few threats. That usually worked with the reputation their gang held. Gabe still wanted multiple guys, however, just in case things got frisky. It was the smart move, one Cale had suggested. Yet, Nate had gone off on his own.

All Cale remembered was being worried sick for almost three hours as they searched and waited for Nate to come back. When he had, he’d been bloody and battered. Pavel had stitched up stab wounds and cuts, and his body had been wildly bruised. Apparently they’d underestimated the threat, but all Nate seemed willing to say was that they had still gotten it way worse. Cale shook his head to himself, trying to keep a steady pace as he weaved behind buildings and watched Nate’s location. It had slowed, a good sign that Nate was now on foot and no longer speeding ahead in a taxi.

Rain began to pour and Cale slid his phone into his pocket. He stopped, listening attentively. This area was less populated, more bars and underground clubs than busy streets and sidewalks packed with consumers. Cale straightened. He thought he heard… no. Cale’s heart sank in his chest as the echo of a gunshot floated through the air, a cruel melody. Cale was running before he could think anything of it, he pushed through anyone that was in his way as he frantically looked up and down alleys for Nate’s figure. Please don’t let it be him, don’t let it be him, Cale’s mind screamed.

Down the street he saw a group of about five guys, laughing and chatting amongst each other as they walked up the stairs to a bar. Cale saw from a distance that one of them had a tattoo on his neck and rage sparked. It’s them. Cale dialed Gabe and talked as he ran, now going with purpose to the alley he’d seen the men coming out of.  “Hey, I found the guys,” Cale began shakily, “they’re downtown at the Ambrosia—”

Cale skidded to a halt at the entrance to the alley and his phone clattered to the concrete. Cale didn’t care. Nate was yards down, slumped underneath a doorway and bleeding. Cale forced his legs to move and he scrambled to Nate’s side. He’d never seen him so hurt… a clear sign that Nate hadn’t known what he was getting into. God, there was so much blood. Cale shook Nate by his shoulders a bit. “Nate.”

Hope fled as fast as a flint struck spark. Cale’s chest felt heavy, his heart sinking like a stone. He searched desperately for Nate’s pulse. It was there, but fading. Cale drew in a sharp breath and collected himself. Act like this is just another job. Just get him to Pavel’s place. He’s the nearest medic we have… Cale heaved Nate as gently as possible to his feet. Nate’s eyes fluttered open for a moment and Cale breathed the barest sigh of relief. He was alive. “Okay, Nate, I need you to walk. Just move your legs a bit, I’m taking you to Frankie,” he instructed gently.

Nate didn’t seem to hear him, he groaned and Cale winced at the thought that he could be hurting Nate even more, but he followed what Cale asked. Cale breathed shakily, looking up into the rainy sky. “Thank you.”

The trip felt so much longer than it really was. Every so often Nate would slip, and Cale would have to rest him against a wall and tear more from his suit to press against Nate’s shot wound. Then he’d heave him back up and stagger forward, keeping in the dark alleys and streets where there was no one to bother them or ask questions. Cale did his best to ignore the way Nate got limper in his hold and started leaning more heavily on Cale. He couldn’t die here, Cale refused to let that happen. He’d drag Nate back from hell if he had to.

 Finally after what felt like hours, Cale was finally at Pavel Francouz’s doorstep. The response was immediate, Pavel had helped Cale take Nate in and then he’d gone to work. It’d been awful to watch. Nate had been completely still. It was terrifying. He’d lost so much blood, it was everywhere. After about half an hour Gabe had showed up and Cale had let him in. Behind him followed Val and Kurtis and Mikko, each shoving a beaten man through the hall. Gabe led, his knuckles bruised and his lip cut but other than that there was no sign he’d even been hit. The boss leaned on the doorway, looking into where Pavel had Nate. “Where can we take them?” he asked, catching the medic’s attention.

“Down the hall there’s a room that should do just fine. You calling together a show?” Pavel questioned simply, not looking away from working on Nate’s wounds.

Gabe smirked, drumming his fingers on the doorframe. His gaze landed on Nate and his jaw set into place, his eyes glinting with something dark and cold and brutally unforgiving. He looked away and nodded at his guys, signaling for them to go ahead where Pavel instructed. “Yeah, yeah I am. You good with the visitors?”

“Of course,” said Pavel pleasantly. “Always am.”

“Good man…” Gabe praised and went silent, staring at Nate’s still body. “Will he be alright?” he asked softly, the words barely a whisper.

Cale knew the feeling. Gabe had been the one to take Nate in when Nate had been lost, searching for a job, and angry. He’d taught him how to hold his own in a fight. He’d taken a lonely and vengeful kid and turned him into the monster he needed to be. In some ways, Nate was akin to a son for Gabe. Cale understood his pain. He didn’t want to see the person he loved most in this state either.

“He’ll be okay. He can’t die on us that easy,” Cale replied with a small laugh, though his chest only tightened more.

Pavel stepped away and looked at Gabe. “I did my best. He lost a lot of blood, though. He was gashed pretty deep in his side and the shot went through his shoulder… I—” he paused, wringing his hands together, and repeated, “I did my best.”

Gabe nodded. “I know. Thank you.”

Cale stopped Gabe before he could go. The Swede turned to him, giving him an almost warning look in response to Cale’s pleading eyes. “Cale, think about your priorities before you speak.”

Cale felt a wave of embarrassment and dull, tired-made anger wash over him. He wasn’t a child. In fact, he was a very calculated person. He always thought about what he said. He was frankly offended that Gabe would assume he wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe he wasn’t. “I want to deal with them, Gabe. Let me give them hell for what they did.”

Gabe was unfazed. “You need to watch him. I can deal with them just fine.”

“It’s my boyfriend that’s laying on that table on the verge of death, Gabe,” Cale snapped. “Let me hurt them like they hurt him. Do you honestly think I’d hesitate?” he challenged.

Gabe leaned in, voice steady but commanding, “Cale. Let it be. Nate needs you, and you know it. Now let me handle this, you’ll get your fun in time. Just be patient.”

Cale looked down at his feet, cheeks deep red. He turned away and took a seat next to Nate. “Fine. Now go have your fun. I’ll be here.”

Gabe gave him one last lingering look and Cale took Nate’s barley warm hand in his own. He didn’t even need to look up to know Gabe had gone. Pavel took off his gloves and slung his medical bag over his shoulder.

 “Cale, I— I know this must be hard for you. I’m pretty new here, but I just want to say that he should be alright. He just needs to take it slow. Whenever he wakes up, get him water and bring him into where I sent Gabe. There’s food there, and he’ll need the nutrients to regain his strength given how much blood he lost. I’ve dealt with things like this before, so come to me if you need anything, alright?”

Cale nodded and said, “Thanks, Frankie. You’re too good to us. I appreciate it, though. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost him. You saved his life.”

Pavel smiled, dipping his head gratefully. “I know.”

Cale laughed and shook his head. The rain began to slow outside, and the night calmed. Cale rested his head in his free palm, other hand still in Nate’s. The twenty-seven year old’s chest was now rising and falling more regularly, labored but getting better. That was a good sign. Cale sighed as he rubbed his thumb over Nate’s bruised, bloody knuckles. It was going to be a long night.

***

It had been a long, long time since Gabe had felt rage quite like this. That white hot, everlasting flame that consumed everything and left nothing behind. The kind that only translated to the language Gabe loved more than words: violence. Untamed, wild, ceaseless violence. Violence that often made him feel more animal or machine than human. There could be no shame, just precision. Just intent.

He’d stormed into that bar alone, and immediately The Ambrosia had gone quiet. It wasn’t a rowdy bar like most of the clubs around here. It was rustic, a place for deals to be discreetly made or bets to be waged. This one one of the only spots downtown someone could go that was quiet. The interior design was based on Greek architecture— a nod to the name “Ambrosia”. All eyes turned to Gabe. At the end of the bar five large men who’d been talking and drinking went silent. Gabe’s gaze landed on the large tattoo on one of their necks and he adjusted his suit calmly. The bartender broke the tense silence, “Careful, Näken.”

Gabe nearly smiled at the name. At least this man had the decency to give him a name in the proper language. Gabe cracked his neck and strode towards the group of men. He looked slightly up at the man with the tattoo who was only an inch or so taller than he was. Gabe tapped his index finger on the bar and instantly the bartender slid a glass of whiskey to him. Without breaking eye contact with the men, Gabe downed the drink and cleared his throat. The room was eerily silent.

From behind Gabe, the bell on the door of The Ambrosia rang loud and clear. He didn’t need to look away to know it was his men. He’d called them just before getting to The Ambrosia, and all he’d needed to do was give himself some time that his reputation served just well. Finally, Gabe spoke, “One of my own is dying because of you.” 

Gabe threw his first blow into the gut of the tattooed man with as much composure as he could muster and the man bent double. The rest of his group surged forward, but Gabe held up a hand and surprisingly they stopped, confused. Gabe finished his statement, “One of my own is dying because of you… that doesn’t happen.”

And then it was on. Gabe let his muscles do the talking, let his natural instinct take over as he fought. When one man lunged, he ducked and immediately had the advantage again. Next thing he knew, he and Mikko were back to back. Val had already handled one of them and was working on heaving the man, barely conscious, to his feet and out the door. Kurtis was facing off against the tattooed man. Gabe drew his attention back to the matter at hand and together he and Mikko brought down the other two men.

After several thrown punches, Gabe loomed over the last man still conscious, watching curiously as he tried to crawl away. Suddenly, the man turned, picked up a fallen glass of drink, and threw it past Gabe’s head. He turned sharply away, dodging most of the impact. Blood began to seep from a cut in Gabe’s lip where the glass had actually caught, but the sting was nonexistent. He smiled faintly and licked away the blood, teeth bright white against the stark red bubbling on his lip. The man looked up at Gabe, terrified, as the Swede crouched before him. Then, before he could even get out a single syllable of an insult, Gabe drew back his fist and knocked the man out cold.

Gabe stood and shrugged off his suit jacket, throwing it over one of the barstools. He motioned for Mikko to take the men outside and pulled up a bottle of bourbon. He took two ice cubes from the bowl next to him, and calmly poured himself a glass. Gabe downed it, put two coins on the table haphazardly, and exited The Ambrosia. He neatly folded his suit jacket over his arm, embracing the rain and the cold. Then, he readjusted his tie and met the others back in the car. Gabe rode with Mikko and Val, meanwhile Kurtis drove separately with the rest of Nate’s unconscious attackers. 

The drive was silent and tense. Any spark of excitement that had come with the fight had long since died. The weight of Nate’s unknown condition was heavy in the air. Even Mikko, who usually brought some fun to dull scenarios, was quiet. Gabe stared out the window and tried to shove his thoughts away, but all he could see was Cale’s bright, cracked screen on the concrete and the blood on the door where Nate had been. They pulled up to Pavel’s and Gabe was quick to get out of the car.

Mikko pulled smelling salts out of his pocket and handed them to Val, who took them and broke them before waving them under the men’s noses. They both jolted awake and together Mikko and Val helped them out of the car. At least they were smart enough not to resist. Maybe they thought that if they cooperated they’d escape their fate. They were wrong.

Kurtis was already there, waiting patiently with the other men they’d fought. Gabe strode towards him, peering closely at the man with the tattoo on his neck. He grit down on his teeth a bit, brows furrowing with an untouchable anger. They’re Bolts, Gabe recognized, finally getting a close look at the ink on the man’s neck. Great. Just great. 

Everything else after that passed in a blur. Next thing Gabe knew he was standing in a circle of light, being watched intently by the others. Distantly, Gabe might have remembered a conversation with Cale and Frankie. But the only clear, jarring thing he could recall was Nate laying still on a metal table. Gabe’s grip on his blade tightened and he pressed it faintly into the skin of the tattooed man’s forearms. He let out a high pitched whine through gritted teeth and Gabe closed his eyes, pressing further. Then the man began to scream and beg.

“It was just a job!” he sobbed but Gabe paid him no heed.

Gabe made a deep slash across the man’s cheek. Then he stepped back, leaning on his heels as he laughed. “Just a job,” mocked Gabe, running his hand through his hair at the absurdity. “‘Just a job’ he says. Things like this are never just a job.Nate nearly died because of you. I don’t let things like that slide.”

Suddenly, the man received a rush of confidence— a very poor decision on his part— at Gabe’s threat and he sneered, “It was his fault anyway! You’d really think someone under the Näken’s wise teachings would know better. I’d be disappointed too. He might not even make the night in the state we left him—”

Gabe had the man pulled up by his collar within seconds, blade twisting deep in his side. Gabe relished the silent, open mouthed shriek the man let out and he met eyes with the Bolt, cold blue on deep brown. Gabe leaned in and hissed quietly into the dying man’s ear, “You know… you’re lucky he’s alive. If he wasn’t I assure you, your death would be much slower than this. Consider this a gift.”

The tattooed man’s features contorted with deep pain and Gabe let him go. He slumped against the chair and after several tense moments he went still. Blood began to drip on the floor, Gabe’s hands were wet. He drew in a sharp breath and calmly readjusted his suit. Gently, Gabe pulled the man off the chair and he crumpled in a heap to the floor. Without needing to be told, Kurtis moved forward and took the body away. Distantly, Gabe heard Mikko going to grab the next. 

“Wait,” spoke out Gabe and the Fin paused. Gabe undid his tie and threw it across the room and he removed his suit jacket, leaving only his button up and the deep red vest. “Call up the others. Why waste the chance at entertainment?”

Mikko nodded curtly and replied, “Yes, boss.”

Gabe turned to Val. “Go find Frankie and ask him if there’s chairs somewhere. I’m going to check on Nate.”

“Of course, Landy…” Val began and after a few moments asked softly, “Will he be alright? I didn’t see much, but—” the Russian struggled to find the right words— “he looked not good.”

Gabe fell silent. The weight of reality came crashing back. This wasn’t normal, there had never been a hunger for revenge quite like this. Not that revenge wasn’t justified before, it was just that the situation had never been so dire. Nate was dying. That never happened. But here Gabe was, ignoring his closest friend and resorting to the only thing he knew; violence. He shoved away the pang of guilt he felt at that. 

“I don’t know.”

“Oh. I— I’m sorry then. I know Nate means lots to you. He does to all of us.”

Gabe nodded, picking up what really mattered from what Val was saying through his thick accent. He hastily turned and strode down the hall. It couldn’t have been more than an hour since he’d last visited, but frankly Gabe didn’t care. Every dull moment was replaced with worry over Nate. He felt a hot wave of embarrassment come over him. He was so stupid. Nate would live, so why was he so anxious? He was supposed to be the collected one, the one that let his fists do the talking or the one that smoothly and deftly executed a complicated deal. He wasn’t supposed to lose it over something as simple as Nate being an idiot and getting himself into trouble again. 

“Gabe?” Cale’s voice snapped him from his thoughts abruptly.

Gabe drew in a sharp breath and rubbed at his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed the overwhelming dread and sadness that had made its way into his heart. Gabe’s cheeks flushed red slightly. At least it was Cale and not someone else that was witnessing his boss’ unraveling. Gabe could trust Cale the most out of everyone with something like his shame. That put Gabe at ease, if only a little bit, and he made his way as casually as possible to Nate’s side.

“I just wanted to check on him,” stated Gabe.

Cale could have responded with a sarcastic comment, pointing out how obvious it was that Nate was the reason Gabe ended up here. But he didn’t. Instead he replied the way Cale would. “I’m worried about him too,” reassured Cale.

“How’s he been?” Gabe asked, trying to ignore how much Cale’s kind response made him want to completely break down.

Cale absently gave Nate’s hand a squeeze and he shrugged a bit hopelessly. “He’s been okay… his breathing’s a lot better but it’s shallow. I think he should be alright, but I don’t know how Frankie feels about it. I’m not a medic, I’m just—” Cale laid his forehead onto his and Nate’s hands as if in prayer— “hanging on to any hope I have left.”

“I think we all are,” admitted Gabe. After a few moments Gabe shook his head with the barest laugh and he stated, “How could he be so stupid?”

Cale smiled faintly, but it looked forced.

“He knows better. If you hadn’t been able to follow him, he’d be dead right now… I mean, did you see the guys we brought in?”

Cale’s interest peaked, as if he’d completely forgotten the people responsible for Nate’s predicament in the first place, and he questioned, “No, who were they?”

“Bolts.”

The color drained from the twenty-four year old’s face for a moment. “Shit,” he cursed.

 “Yeah… I don’t know. Hopefully this should send the message, but it might escalate. We’ll see how it goes as their guys turn up missing but with Nate out of the field our manpower will be weakened. We’re going to have to call up some guys if they’re going to keep infringing on our borders. We might be going to war.”

Cale looked away. Uncomfortable silence fell and Gabe felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn’t be talking about this, not here, not now. He was only making it all worse.He should know better, Cale was sensitive to things like this. Talk like this. “I’m sorry,” apologized Gabe, “I know it’s not the time. I was just speaking out whatever came to mind, I didn’t mean to seem insensitive.”

“No, you’re alright,” Cale interjected. “I was just thinking.”

Gabe didn’t miss the way Cale stared at his broken watch as he said it. It was a curious thing, that watch. Gabe never understood why he wore something broken— he’d assumed it had some value of course— but he’d never bothered to ask Cale why. All he knew was that Cale never took it off, or at least that was how it seemed.  Just as Gabe was working up the nerve to ask, the doors to the building opened and the noise of the others floated down the hall. 

Gabe straightened. “That’s the others. I— I’m going to go…” Gabe began as he stood. “And Cale?”

The twenty-four year old came to attention, snapped out of gazing longingly at Nate. “Yeah?” responded Cale.

Gabe’s hand paused on the door handle. “Thank you.”

 Cale seemed to be caught off guard by the compliment, but he nodded and replied, “Of course.”

Gabe gave him the barest hint of a smile and closed the door behind him. He said his greetings to his men and led them down the hall, reset into the stern but relatable leader he had to be. Part of him felt bad for leaving Cale, but if he was being honest with himself he wanted to be the one to hurt those that had nearly killed Nate. Was it selfish? Yes. But Gabe couldn’t bring himself to care. Cale would get his time, if he wanted. Right now, Gabe was going to do what he did best: harm and maim and kill. Neither hell nor high water was going to stop him.

#colorado avalanche #nathan mackinnon #cale makar #gabriel landeskog #829 #692 #mens hockey rpf #hrpf #btw the title is actually a song #it's called Killing Strangers by Marilyn Manson and it's really good #you might recognize it if you're a John Wick fan #cos this is inspired by John Wick and also the Six of Crows duology #i highly recommend them both #anyways here's the first three parts i hope you like it lol #this is one of my current and long projects so updates will be many but possibly far in between #also 692 fic is in the works but idk how long it's gonna take me #ps: i can't wait to give georgie weapons in this lmao #one goalie medic and one goalie that gets to just fight someone #they're a duo your honor