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dreamer-oriented-express-1 · 25 days

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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

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marchtothefuckingsea · 2 years

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Trust - John Wick

My Masterlist.

Hurt/comfort, angst, uhh lovers to enemies to lovers kind of?? , x gender neutral reader, x assassin reader

Word count: 3.8k (I got REALLY carried away lmao sorry)

Warnings: Injury, injured reader, blood, canon violence. Not proofread.

Summary: Prompted by the classic "I didn't know where else to go" trope.

I stumbled down the sidewalk like a zombie, leaning heavily on the buildings as I passed by. I clutched my arm to my bleeding side, favoring my ankle that I was pretty sure had been broken. My matted hair clung to the edges of my face, both my hair and my clothes drenched by the steady fall of rain. I shivered uncontrollably, frozen to the bone; a combination of blood loss and the cold rain that soaked into every inch of my skin. I stopped suddenly, breathing heavily. Pain washed over me and I grunted, hunching over and pressing my palm into the steadily bleeding wound.

I straightened up as much as I could before quickly ducking into an alley, allowing myself to sink down to the cold pavement with another shiver. My teeth chattered slightly and I clenched my jaw.

I recognized the area as near the infamous assassin's retirement home, John Wick. My former 'co-worker' if you will. Before our agency had all but sold me off to another they were in debt to. Transfer, was the word they used. I had, against my will, gotten passed around between agencies, somehow ended up at an enemy agency. Every time I tried to get out of it though, I was reminded of my numerous outside debts. The agencies I worked for were the only thing keeping them off of my back.

By then, John and I had both made multiple attempts at killing each other for our conflicting agencies. He seemed to ruthlessly carry out their orders, uncaring that I was his former ally. I was nothing but an enemy, now; and soon, he became the same to me.

After he nearly killed me once, it seemed to dawn on him just what he was doing. He had dropped the fight and spared me, but I didn't know just how long this 'truce' would last. I had been careful to avoid him after that, knowing that crossing his path purposely would only be tempting fate even more.

As I considered the idea of showing up at his doorstep foggily, my hand dropped from the bullet wound in my abdomen, alerting me to the fact I was starting to lose consciousness. I took a deep breath, attempting to bring myself back. I knew going to him would most likely be a death sentence, especially in my current state. He'd finish me off, I knew that much. There was no way in hell the heartless boogeyman would tend to the wounds of someone who had tried to kill him. Former ally or not.

But I was across the city from my apartment, and I also knew if I didn't get help soon I wouldn't make it to see morning. I weakly raised my hand back up to my stomach, barely able to put any pressure on the injury. I leaned my head back against the cold brick, my head swimming, and suddenly felt warm. I closed my eyes, sighing.

The hospital wasn't an option, not for people like me. They would ask too many questions. My apartment was more than a walk away, even uninjured, let alone the condition I was in now. A taxi was out of the question too. Weighing my options, it seemed I had no other choice. I knew it was a bad idea, but I was going to die anyway. If my memory served me right, his house was only a couple of blocks away.

If it didn't? I'd end up dying in some alleyway.

I staggered to my feet, gasping in pain and running straight into the wall, bracing myself against it. I doubled over, clutching my middle and panting as dots swam across my vision. I blinked over and over again, trying to clear them.

I walked unsteadily down the deserted street, keeping close to the building for support. My footsteps echoed in the silence, the busy sounds of the city now fading into the distance.

A few more twists and turns and the noisiness of cars and the wailing of sirens grew louder. I came out onto the sidewalk of a busy street, glancing around. I recognized a street sign. I stumbled to the curb, steadying myself on the light pole and not even bothering to look before I crossed the street.

A car roared up on me, the bright headlights making my head pound. The tires of the Toyota squealed as it came to a sudden stop. I heard cursing before the driver blared their horn. I hastily staggered to the other side of the street, unable to see. White hot pain filled my pounding head.

I stumbled on the curb, sticking my arms out in a last desperate (and stupid) attempt to break my fall. I couldn't muffle my cry of agony as my body came into contact with the unforgiving pavement. I rolled onto my side, clutching my side and balling up defensively. I whimpered pathetically when I felt the wound tear even more at the sudden movement.

Not allowing myself a moment of rest, I feebly pushed myself onto all fours before lurching to my feet. I leaned wearily against the building, gaining a fraction of my sight back. The dots had turned into entire dark spots and the edge of my vision had a sort of vignette to it.

Even through my blurry vision, I recognized his porch immediately. I stumbled unsteadily up the stairs, my head suddenly swimming with second thoughts. I immediately realized what a horrible, stupid idea this was. He would kill me on sight, no doubt about it.

I had been standing in front of the door, finger resting on the doorbell. I pulled away, swaying on my feet, and took a step away from the door. My legs buckled underneath me, unable to support me any longer. I barely had the energy to utter a quiet noise of pain. I squeezed my eyes shut.

The sound of a dog barking brought me back to reality seconds later, along with a man's voice. Both were faint but I was unsure if it was because I was on the verge of unconsciousness, or because they actually were further back in the house. I felt a pang of fear, struggling to my forearms. I fell back down to the porch, all my strength leaving me. I feebly curled into a loose ball in a last desperate attempt to protect myself. I fought to keep my eyes open.

The barking quieted before I heard heavy footsteps from inside the house. The door opened and I flinched, curling my arms around my abdomen.

I heard John's voice and I managed to turn my head slightly. "Are you being followed?" He repeated sharply, his eyes withdrawn and calculating.

"I don't know." I whimpered out pathetically. I coughed, the mere action of speaking irritating my lungs. I wheezed, curling into myself and tucking my chin to my chest.His body language was that of an assassin as his sharp eyes carefully took in his surroundings.

I heard his bare feet hit the floor as he took another step closer to me. A strangled, fearful noise escaped my throat, and one of my arms hastily unwound from my waist to shield my head, as if that would protect me. When nothing happened, I looked up carefully, my head pounding. He walked right past me, down off of the porch. I almost felt..afraid; but not of him. Afraid that he would just leave me here to die. That was somehow a worse scenario to me than if he just finished me off himself. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my eyes fluttering open and shut, watching the silhouettes of small insects flutter around the porchlight. His concerned face came into a blurry focus the next time I opened my eyes. He crouched beside me. I suddenly noticed him tucking something into his waistband, what I could only presume was a gun. I weakly pushed myself back with my arms, panic seizing my chest. I panted, my eyes wide in fear.

"I'm going to help you. Don't worry." His voice was softer now; it had lost its harsh edge from before. That still wasn't enough to reassure me though, and as he reached for me, I flinched back.

"I'm sorry I- I didn't know where else to go." I choked out painfully. I struggled onto my forearms, adrenaline flooding into my veins and giving me the little bit of strength I needed to brace myself up. I somehow managed to push myself into a sitting position. He hovered over me, reaching out as if to help me but not quite touching me. I leaned against the wall, slumping against it in exhaustion. I instinctively crossed my arms over my torso, weakly pressing a hand to my wound. All the energy seemed to drain from my body at once, and my eyes tried to shut against my will. I shivered. My body began to tilt to the side. I made no attempt to brace myself against the concrete, instead embracing it and slowly lying down, curling into a wheezing, miserable ball.

I watched wearily as John hesitantly reached for me again. I flinched slightly when his large hand rested carefully on my waist. I tightened my grip around my wounded stomach, using the last bit of energy I had. His eyes were trained on my face, gauging my reaction. My vision blurred and darkened dangerously around the edges.

"It's okay. You're okay." He promised when I shrank further into myself.

"What happened?" He questioned. I felt his hands begin prying my arms from my middle. I whimpered in protest but I was too weak to fight him. A faint wave of panic washed over me. I choked out a cry of pain when I felt an agonizing pressure on my stomach. I clawed feebly at his hands, blood bubbling in my throat. I coughed.

"Stop." I begged, my legs kicking uselessly. This was it. "Please." I gasped out.

"Sorry, sorry. " He apologized breathlessly. A hand reached up to stroke my cheek for a brief moment before returning to my stomach. I choked out a sob. I stilled reluctantly, my breaths shallow and painful. I knew there was no getting out of this now; I was at his mercy.

"Who did this to you?" He asked harshly, his voice faint. I tried to mumble out an answer but my lips wouldn't part and my tongue swelled in my mouth. My shallow breaths slowed, my eyes fluttering shut. I let myself drift off.

I groaned, rolling onto my side and clutching an arm to my torso. The blankets entangled me, causing me to panic as everything came back to me. I bolted up, immediately regretting it and falling onto my back with a choked whimper.

I heard the door open. I weakly shuffled over to the far side of bed, my face screwed up in pain and my breath hitching in my throat. John rounded to the other side, already seeing what I was trying to do. My pulse quickened, panic clawing up my throat as he neared. I pushed myself back with a weak cough.

His hand rested firmly on my shoulder as I braced myself on my elbows, my body shaking pathetically with each cough.

"Get away from me." I choked out, still attempting to shuffle away from him. I turned onto my side, grasping my stomach in pain with one arm. I fell back on the pillows weakly, winded. I noticed he had sat in a chair by the bedside, reaching for a glass on the nightstand.

I watched him wearily as he offered me the glass of water, my throat raspy and begging for relief.

He sighed. "If I wanted to hurt you in any way, I would have already. Drink. It's just water, I promise."

I couldn't argue with that, though I wanted to. I took the glass from him, sipping at first, hesitant of any weird tastes, before gulping it down. He hastily pried the glass from my hands.

"You're going to make yourself sick." He explained.

"I'm thirsty." I protested weakly.

"I know. Slowly." He said carefully, handing the glass back to me. I took slow sips this time, even though all I wanted to do was chug it all down. My entire body ached and throbbed as I handed him the glass back, falling onto my side in exhaustion. I wrapped my arms around myself and buried my face into the pillow. I let out a shallow sigh.

“How are you feeling?” He inquired, his eyes glancing over my form.

“It hurts.” I mumbled into the pillow.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. I raised my head suddenly, propping my upper half on my elbow.

“It’s not your fault.” I said. “I should be the one apologizing-”

“No.” He cut me off. “No, I mean..I scared you. You were scared of me. You shouldn’t have been, you came to me for help.”

“We weren’t exactly on best of terms the last time we saw each other.” I reminded him, unsure how else to reply. The man I had worked with years ago - the assassin - hadn’t been this apologetic or caring. He had his moments, but nothing like this. It surprised me.

“I know. I regret that.” He sighed, scrubbing his face and leaning forward. He hung his head, his long hair covering his face. He was quiet, but I could hear the gears turning in his head as he thought of what to say. He never had been a man of many words, but I had known him better than anyone.

“I regret allowing you to continue this..this way of life.” He admitted quietly, raising his head to meet my eyes again and slightly gesturing over to me. I could see guilt in his eyes, and pain. Too much pain. So much that it hurt me, too.

“John, it’s not your fault. It’s not like you could have really stopped me anyway.” I gave him a half smile. We both knew how stubborn I could be. I reached over to place my hand over his in a comforting gesture. I let my instincts guide me, unsure how else to act. I had never had to comfort anyone in my life, let alone the formerly stoic and withdrawn assassin.

He flipped his hand over, capturing my cold fingers in his warm palm. I sighed. "You have no idea. I hated leaving you behind.I hated myself for getting out of that life and not taking you with me. You don't deserve it." He said, sucking in a shaky breath. He averted his eyes from mine, staring at our intertwined hands.

"I was too caught up in that world, you know that. I still am. The normal world just isn't for me." I said quietly.

"So was I. I got out of it, so can you. Let me help you." He pleaded. The vulnerable, caring man in front of me was nothing like the one I had worked with years ago.

"I can't. I can't involve you in any of this, you know that as well as I do, John. You're going to get dragged back in." I shook my head. I suddenly winced, inhaling sharply. I laid back down on the mattress, my energy drained. He hovered over me in concern.

"I'm fine." I tried to reassure him. I broke off with a cough, a sharp pang irritating my lungs. I felt the mattress dip with his weight as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. I erupted into a coughing fit. Tears of pain welled up in my eyes. I shifted onto my side, then onto my forearms, resting my forehead on the pillow as my body shook with each cough. I felt his hand rubbing gentle circles on my back. He said soothing words that I couldn't make out.

As the coughing fit subsided, I relaxed limply into the mattress. I felt him slide his arm across my chest, gently pulling me up against him. I leaned into him, sighing. His body radiated heat compared to my own.

"Thank you." I slumped against him completely, exhausted. I closed my eyes, a feeling of safety washing over me, with his arms wrapped protectively around my injured body.

"I missed you." He said softly, resting his chin on the top of my head. I felt him dip his head down, pressing his lips to my hair.

"I missed you too." I murmured, beginning to nod off. He must have sensed my exhaustion. Still holding me to his chest, he shifted, lying sideways and carefully pulling me down with him. The movement startled me at first, but I quickly settled down, pressing myself closer to him. He laid still as I drifted off my hand falling away from his. Right before I fell asleep, I felt him untangle himself from me, pulling away. I whined in protest.

"Stay here." I mumbled.

"Are you sure?" He asked hesitantly. He may have been a killer before, but he had always been a gentleman, and apparently he had never stopped.

"Please." I turned onto my back, my arm draping across my stomach. Wordlessly, he settled back down beside me, carefully resting his arm over my own and entwining his fingers with mine. I hummed contentedly, falling asleep.

"It's too soon for you to be up and walking around!" John ordered as I limped into the kitchen.

"John, I'm fine. I'm feeling better, I'm healing! It wasn't that bad." I argued, sitting at the island with a wince.

"You showed up on my doorstep nearly dead less than three days ago, scared shitless. Don't tell me it wasn't that bad." He said lowly, turning away from the coffee maker. His face was hard as he sat across the island from me.

"I can't keep taking up your bed forever."

"You're not." I couldn't argue with that. He had slept by my side the past few nights, and they had been the best nights I sleep I had had in years. No night terrors. It helped my healing immensely.

I sighed in frustration. "I have a life to get back to."

"That's not a life." He frowned.

"I know. I don't have a choice." I said softly, looking down at the table.

"You do. Stay with me." He was serious.

"I already told you; I'm not dragging you into this. This is my problem. You're retired, old man." I added jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. In reality, there wasn't a big age difference between us. Life just had different plans. He was smarter with his, while I had gotten too caught up in the underground world; and now, it had caught up to me, and I was going to be forced to pay the price.

"Who's after you?" He asked suddenly, ignoring my attempt to clear the tense atmosphere.

"I can't tell you that." I argued.

"Yes you can."

"...My company." I sighed in defeat.

"Why?" He pried.

"I owe a lot of people, you know that." He nodded, his frown deepening. "Well..that's why I had no choice but to be passed around. That's why I had to leave. Believe me when I say I wouldn't have left you if I had a choice. You were the one person in that world I felt I could trust." I admitted quietly before continuing.

"These people I always worked for, they were the only thing keeping these other people I owed off my ass. If it weren't for their protection, they would have collected their debt a long time ago." I didn't elaborate; I didn't have to. He knew exactly what I meant. "I fucked up on an assignment. Bad. I cost them big time. That's why they want me. My own company is on my ass now." I laughed humorlessly.

"Do you still work for…." He trailed off, not daring to say the name aloud.

"Yeah."

"They're ruthless."

"I know."

"They're ruthless." He repeated. "They're not going to stop looking for you until you're dead."

"I know." I repeated in irritation.

"You can't go back out there." He said softly.

"I told you, I don't have a choice. If I don't, they're going to come looking for me. They're going to come here. I don't want that."

"That's not your decision to make."

"What, do you want them to come here? Do you want to get involved in this?" I spat at him, standing abruptly. I doubled over, gripping the countertop with paper white knuckles. I hissed in pain, curling an arm around my stomach. He was quick to round the island, coming over to me. I ducked away from him.

"I'm fine."

"You're not. Sit." He ordered. I backed away from him, stubbornly refusing to follow his orders. I was still swaying on my feet, having just evaded death mere days ago. My body ached, begging for rest.

"Listen." He sighed, softening his tone. "I don't want you going out there. It's not safe. You know what they're going to do."

"I know exactly what they want to do, and I'm not letting it happen. I've evaded all those assholes I owe for the better part of my life. I'm still here."

"You've had people helping you. Covering for you." He pointed out.

"Not always." I argued, slowly straightening up. "And I never trusted them."

"Is that really how you want to live the rest of your life?" He asked. I didn't miss the slow, deliberate steps he took towards me, but I didn't back away.

"It's a little too late for second chances, John." I laughed dryly. "I'm knee deep in all this bullshit. More than that, actually."

"It's never too late." He told me quietly, placing his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, meeting his sincere gaze.

"You said I was the one person you could trust?" I nodded wordlessly. "Then trust me. Let me help you. Please."

"Okay." I agreed softly.

I trusted him. I had never stopped.

954 notes · View notes

velvainee · 5 days

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ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐩 ࿐ 𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙

🐋🦢🪽. (18+ only!) hello everyone, vivienne here.. i don’t really have a big following on here but I’ve been incredibly bored lately. I’ve been role playing for two years and was wondering if anyone would want to roleplay here on tumblr ? (looking for rp w/contents of nsfw) more information about me role playing styles here.

ৎ୭ what pairings am i looking for atm ?

john wick x fem!oc

john constantine x fem!oc

marquis de gramont x fem!oc

roman godfrey x fem!oc

𝑑𝑚 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 …

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introvertllux · 2 months

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Introvertlux Masterlist (FANFICTIONS)

Here is my masterlist for my fan-fictions- let me know if you'd be interested in seeing a list of my original stories.

1. Meet the Waynes 🦇

Chapter one - Chapter two - Chapter three

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2. Fated

Chapter one - Chapter two (Coming Soon)

More stories to come!

TAGLIST:

@yinx1 @somedays-i-just-feel-bad-bitch @upductablemsft @greeniegreengreen @mistytwooo @mistyyyy @when-bops-drops @patrickbatemanswifee @strangersomeone @generaldumb @moon-drop-witch @xxabrixx @itsmedipshit @sabrina1cat @princess-of-fuckup @jeffreybrosseau @maxismp1 @prettyvintageafternoon @trinket-n-geode @blkc @angelite111 @primrosesposts @moonlight-4life @trainsbusses @fuckyouboys-world @ilovedesert-20089 @willbeddecided @linvaderz @marsbard09 @murchisonm @casualrebelninja @nuttyninjacat @z82008 @buckssstuff @lofious @justkillmenow @chazubagi @mentalinsatabilityatitsfineposts @the-sweet-n-spicy-pepper @saphwithae @venomransom @iloveeverthing-09 @joonsmoonchild @daddylizzzy @hvnlyaphordite @4522-08 @fanartcollectorwriter @randi98 @cherry-bomb19 @momoko-world @toulousewayne @taniyahtaniyah @innercreationflower @nollythewalrus @adbeverly991 @gialove11 @etherialblackrose @jujuicypop @iamascrazyasisoud @velvetatte @thewonderlandartist @ultraxavbo @meloyyyy @imamybuddles @spider-man-daredevil-loki-venom @gxuhdjdu @roses-luckride @onyx-guardian @ko-kimchi @lostsilver @calminggoat4u @chaoticqueen33 @forgotten-sleep @shittyprofilebutfuckit @almosthumongouseagle @darlingangel-17 @supergeek13 @24travellingwheel @adoredidi @blackrosariovampire @loonylidu @ultimate-gay-mess @teh-vampire-bunny @abnoses @caityrayeraye @nelly-belly @theemissingchild @abdorable-and-amazing @minimisthios @stankyou @jax1118 @huh206 @curiously-lazy @maggieosey @dietothemusic @omisdolly @grimmbunniee @hereforagoodtimenotalongone @wherethelightdoesnotalwaysshine @mikyapixie @teechallas-blog @duhitzdae @themidnight-romances @plainjane18 @viloletevergarden @l-o-v-e-galore @wifeyeddie @wilsonsamerica @when-bops-drops @ilovedesert-20089

#black!reader #orginal story #black!oc #black reader #battinson x black reader #john wick x oc #john wick x black!reader #black fanfic writer #black writer

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simp4aegon · 1 year

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DESPARATION

DESPERATION WILL BRING THE BOOGEY MAN TO A YOUNG LUSTFUL BOSS NAMED ANASTAZIA CISZARNOVA, THE HEIRESS AND THE DEVIL.

John Wick had never felt so powerless before. He had been an assassin for over 30 years, notorious for his efficient kills and unparalleled skills. But here he was, a 50-year-old man, caged by a 20-year-old boss who had saved him from certain death.

"I can't keep doing this," John muttered to himself as he adjusted his tie in front of the mirror. "I'm not her toy."

He knew that he had no choice. Life under Anastazia's rule was better than being hunted by the High Table's assassins. He still remembered the day he had come to her with his plead, to lift his punishment after killing her fiancé, Santino D'Antonio. He had hoped that he could convince her to understand his intentions, and Anastazia had surprised him by offering to save his life.

Now, John found himself indulging Anastazia's every whim, fulfilling her lustful desires and gifting her with anything she wanted. He had accepted his fate and hoped that one day, he could find a way out.

But as Anastazia went into labor, John realized the extent of his powerlessness. He didn't even have the freedom to leave her side as she writhed in agony, screaming his name.

"Please, please make it stop," Anastazia begged as John held her hand.

"Shh, it's going to be okay," John whispered, trying to calm her down.

As the hours dragged on, John couldn't help but feel trapped. He was no longer the Boogeyman, the feared assassin who could take down entire armies. He was just a man, at the mercy of a woman who saw him as nothing more than a tool.

Finally, Anastazia gave birth to a healthy baby boy, and John felt a wave of relief wash over him. But even as he held his child in his arms, he knew that he was still under Anastazia's power.

"I'm tired, John," Anastazia whispered, her purple eyes filled with exhaustion. "Take our son to the nursery. I need some rest."

John nodded, carefully cradling the baby as he walked out of the room. As he watched his son sleep, he felt a newfound determination. He knew that he would do anything to protect his family, even if it meant going against Anastazia's wishes.

For the first time in a long time, John felt hope. He had a reason to fight, a reason to escape his cage. And as he looked down at his son, he vowed to do whatever it takes to give him a better life.

#john wick #continental #keanu reeves #jardani jovonovich #the boogeyman #marquis de gramont #JOHN WICK X OC #santino d'antonio

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teejaywyatt1 · 1 month

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✨Chapter 43 of Skyline will drop on Thursday, March 14th at 2:30PM EST.✨

#skyline #john wick #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #reader insert #john wick x you #john wick x reader #black female characters #black reader #john wick x original female character #john wick x original character #john wick x oc #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves

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paleepeaches · 59 minutes

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John Wick x Babygirl reader!

She's all frill and bows and collects cute trinkets. She's innocent, has doe eyes and John knows she's too pure for this world. He'd love to keep her safe at home to the point that it would be obsessive. She'll be his little Blythe doll sitting pretty and waiting for him to come.

He'd also spoil tf out of her because she's so cute! Buy her whatever she wants because he has the money for it duh! Killing people pays well.

#john wick x you #john wick smut #john wick x reader #john wick x oc #keanuverse #keanu reeves #dear diary 🎀

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askjohnwick · 25 days

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"I Had No Choice But to Seduce Him"

OOC blog author here! Answering this prompt from @daisy-is-a-writer. I was inspired to take this in a more melancholy direction.

I had no choice but to seduce him. I'm doing a god damned public service, you understand? He hasn't worked since the day I first dug my fingers into his hair. And neither have I. But just as importantly (yes, I will call this important), he was crumbling in front of us, his face collapsing into an eternally bruised scowl, that limp which attends him after battle becoming, slowly, a permanent fixture, like the necklace and collar that still rest on his nightstand. He needed something to want, someone on the other side of the bed. It wasn't that he would die, no. It was that he would suffer without me. Isn't that reason enough? To see a man and feel that violent ache twist inside you, that hunger for his not-suffering, for his un-alone-ness? When I can make him cry out softly against my lips, when his face is smooth with peace in the early morning, that is food to me. And to him. I'm not all sunshine like you. I cannot give him an unsullied life, because I do not have one. But I can lay bare to him a need and a loss as deep as his own, and watch that brute, animal compassion respond to me. I can entwine our griefs, press our wounds together. His blood is warm because of me. So Helen, I hope we have your blessing. And if we don't…well, too bad. Just let anyone, living or dead, try to drag me away from that man when he needs me. I will guard him until the end. Until he comes to you.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x oc #helen wick #soft john wick #hopeless romantic #angst

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asirensrage · 2 years

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Chicken and Conversation - Part 7 of Serendipity

Part 7 of the Serendipity series

Title: Chicken and Conversation Rating: PG Fandom: John Wick Warnings: None really for this chapter. Summary: Toni and John make dinner. Also on ao3 and ffn

It’s not hard to follow her home.

John watches as she greets everyone on her way. She stops to talk to the homeless, offering leftovers from her bakery and knows more people by name than he would have guessed. He waits until she’s at her door before moving closer. She stops though before she opens it.

“You can come in,” she calls out. For a moment, he thinks she’s talking to someone else. She waits and when he moves forward, into the light, it takes her a moment before her eyes find him. She smiles when she sees him. “I thought that was you. Come on in.”

“That you Toni?”

He turns, hand reaching for his gun. Toni places her hand on his arm, halting the action as she grins at the woman looking out the door next to hers.

“Delores! How are you?”

The older woman peers at John before she turns her attention back to Toni. “Good. Our place is flourishing. Delilah and Isabel asked me to invite you this weekend. We’re planning the fundraiser for the home. Will you be there?”

“Of course. I’ll bring something to eat.”

“Dear, you bring yourself. You spoil us.”

“You’re taking care of children who need you, Delores. The least I can do is bring some snacks.”

Delores waves her hand, seemingly frustrated at losing an argument she knew she wasn’t going to win.

“Goodnight, Delores,” Toni calls out, teasingly.

“Goodnight Antonia.”

Toni ushers John into the house. “That was my neighbour,” she tells him. “Delores.”

“So I heard,” he says.

“She runs a group home for kids. Her daughters, Delilah and Isabel help. They’ve welcomed children of all ages from all backgrounds. It’s wonderful.”

“You protect them too?”

“Of course. You hungry? I’ll make dinner.” She hangs up her stuff, places the basket she’s carrying down and heads further in. “Take a look around. You can join me when you’re ready.”

She leaves him there.

John looks around. It’s not a large house, but it feels welcoming. It feels like a home. Pictures line the walls of people he’s never seen before. There is an older couple featured in many of them. She shares some of their traits.

The living room he passes is a mass of colour and comfort. John has been many places over the years but few come close to this place. It’s not the appearance, it’s the one living here.

He goes to find Toni.

“Good, come grab a knife. You can be my sous chef.”

He takes off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves before he joins her. She motions for him to pick a knife of his choice out of the block.

“It’s just a simple stir fry. I already got the rice cooking, but you can start with the carrots and broccoli. They tend to go in first.”

“You often invite guests to cook?”

“Only if I know they’ll be helpful,” she grins. She moves about the kitchen, pulling out more vegetables from her fridge and a pack of chicken.

John glances at the door, still wary if someone followed him, but the reminder of the man that broke into her shop, and what she did with him, is still fresh as is the news he’s heard about who’s been in her shop. “Heard you had a visitor.”

“The Adjudicator? Yeah, they stopped by.”

John stops cutting and turns to her. “What did they say?”

“A warning,” she offers. She pauses and looks at him. “I’ve already declared myself, John. I picked my side, planted my flag, however you want to say it. Don’t tell me not to.”

“It’s not safe.”

“I am perfectly safe, as are you. John, you have to decide if you’re okay with it. If I’m too much of a freak to be your friend, tell me. If you want me to rescind my protection, you need to let me know, but I hope you don’t.”

“It’s strange,” he says after a moment. “But I decided I better stick around.”

“Yeah?” she grins at him, hope clear across her face.

“Sure,” he nods. “Otherwise I’ll never have coffee as good as yours again.”

She laughs. “It’s always the coffee.” She moves back to what she was doing, pulling the chicken out and cutting it on a separate board.

“You have to explain the rules,” he tells her. “I’m in enough trouble as it is. Don’t want to make more enemies, ones that can make the floor eat me or pull my bones out from across the room.”

Toni laughs again. “I can do that,” she tells him. “But don’t worry. There aren’t too many out there that can make the floor eat you.”

“And the bones?”

“Well, there are more who can do that. As long as you don’t threaten or attack anyone unprovoked you’ll be fine. Others like me can sense the Blessings you have.”

“How many are there?”

“Others like me? Or blessings?”

“Both.”

She takes the carrots he’s been cutting and drops them in the pan she has heating. The oil pops but she doesn’t flinch. He brings her the broccoli. “Thanks.” She drops it in and stirs it before reaching for something else. “Can you cut the peppers?”

He turns away, going back to the cutting board. He shifts slightly so that she’s not completely at his back.

“I can’t say how many Witches there are. I don’t know for certain. Some bloodlines, like those with the same abilities I have, are not at all common. As you have a High Table, we have our Council. They work to protect and educate Witches around the world.” She moves and takes the chicken from where she was cutting it. “As for the Blessings, you had one on you when we met. I don’t know who did it, it doesn’t work like that. It’s been too long since it was last placed, but it was done by a Bone-Witch. Likely helped keep you alive all this time. I placed protection on your clothing that you sent out for cleaning. I also placed a Blessing on you the last time we met. Just for you to be safe from harm.”

“Why?”

Toni shrugs. “It felt right. I follow my instincts, John. They haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

They fall into silence. Toni doesn’t press for conversation as John thinks.

As they sit at the table, food plated and in front of each of them, John speaks again.

“Of all the…magic users out there, which ones are in the city? What am I most likely to run into here?”

“There are a couple like me but my sister is at school and my mother is not as active anymore. You have a few like my friend Fiona who can control and use the bones of people. If you meet a Bone-Witch, don’t lie to them. They know and you will get far more respect saying the truth they do not like instead of a well-meaning lie. Respect goes a long way.” She takes a bite before she continues. “It is far more common to meet a hedge witch. They use plants. Nothing as extreme as what I am capable of. They focus on healing.”

“Would they…could a hedge witch have healed my wife?”

Toni gives him a small smile. “There are many things we can do but death can only be delayed. At most they could have helped ease her passing. I’m sorry.”

He nods but does not press to continue the line of conversation. “Are there any Witches with the High Table?”

Toni gives a small laugh. “No. They would never.”

“Ok.”

“Makes things easier, doesn’t it?” she teases.

“A bit.”

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @zeleniafic @jvstjewels @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @booty-boggins @residentdormouse @delicateblackrose @stanshollaand @cantfighthemoonknight @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

#fic: serendipity #serendipity series #john wick fic #john wick x oc #john wick/oc #oc: toni

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keanuownsthisbitch · 2 years

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Misera comites diligit

Chapter 2: the art of living with it

The dress fit perfectly, black as night with high collar but an open back, displaying numerous tattoos and showcasing each and every defined muscle rippling beneath the skin in a coordinated order. The garter belt was strapped to her thigh, a small custom made blade resting in it's case. The blade might be considered small by typical standards, but it served the purpose and did it's job perfectly every time.

Then again, killing someone was hardly something ordinary human would consider a job.

Nevertheless, Lara had to smirk at her reflection. She looked good, even healthy and almost alive again. The cut on her temple was glued together, her hair parting in a way that it concealed most of it. Dark and smoky eye make-up accentuated her eye color, while her lips remained it their natural state with only a hint of a gloss. She took one last look in the mirror as she reached for her heels and slipped them on before grabbing few coins and tossing them into a simple clutch.

The ride in the elevator took a bit too long for her comfort but soon enough the doors opened and another heavh doors blocking her path came into her line of sight. A couple of taps and a window slid open, face of some guy whose name Lara didn't remember looked back at her. She offered a small smile and an eyebrow raise before the window closed and several clicks sounded before doors were opened with a creak and heavy bass music reached her ears. She scrunched her face in confusion. Willson prefered the classics, the new DJ stuff wasn't really clear to him and he always praised himself on knowing better than to listen to music that, according to him, lacked a soul.

Weird thing to say for someone who runs a hotel that houses people that have sold their souls to the devil. After all, god isn't known for his mercy upon those who kill for profit.

The music continued to burn her ears as she nodded politely to the 'bouncer' and stepped deeper into the room, and for a fleeting moment she contemplated what sort of a bet Willson had to have lost. She moved through the sea of swaying bodies that moved to the rhythm, her frame easily blending into the backround and yet standing out in every aspect, people who recognized her made room for her to pass while those who were preoccupied or not caring in the slightest continued to ignore her. Not that Lara minded in the slightest. After all, she was the deadliest when underestimated or otherwise overlooked.

One would think those who killed for a living would know better.

She crossed the dancefloor relatively quickly, her body leaning onto the counter while she seated herself in one of the obnoxiously high barstools. The girl covered in tattoos stared back at her with comically wide pupils and for a moment, Lara allowed a genuine smile to light up her face.

"L-Lara? That really you?" The girl stuttered and Lara couldn't help herself as she laughed genuinely for the first time in who knows how long.

"Hello Abbey. How are you?"

Abbey stopped fumbling with the glass in her hand, placing both the glass and the rag she was polishing it with onto the counter, before leaning over the bar to hug Lara.

She accepted the hug singlehandedly. "I- I didn't think I'd see you again... after all that happened." They released each other and Lara's smile flattened to a degree. Abbey noticed. "Sorry. I guess I'm just overwhelmed. Seeing you and John," Lara's eyes widened, "here it's just-"

"John Wick? I thought he retired."

Abbey nodded at her disbelieving look. "He did. He was, that is, until few days ago. His wife died, did you know?"

Lara shook her head. That certanly would explain John's return, though the last time she's seen him, he woved to never return into this pond. Lara sympathized. Whatever's happened had to have been huge for him to go over his own promise.

"Could you mix me a glass of your finest please?" Lara settled for diverting the direction of the conversation instead of prying further. Though the flame of curiosity still burned deep within her gut.

Abbey nodded and set to work. Her fingers quick and easy, her mind almost absentminded as the ingredients were mixed into the perfect blend of sweet and bitter. "Viggo's son... he killed John's dog and stole his car."

Lara's eyebrow jumped in surprise, her face otherwise calm. "I didn't know John had a dog."

Abbey shrugged. "Apparently it was a last present from his wife. She had the puppy delivered to him at the day of her funeral." She placed a cocktail in front of Lara.

Lara didn't drink it. She gazed into the swirling pool of alcohol, contemplating her own life and the actions she took to avenge her husband- no! Don't go there. Her manicured nails drummed against the glass three times before shaking herself out of the stupor and putting a fake smile on her face. "Well, it's been good seeing you Abbey, hope we can do this again sometime." She reached into her purse and took a single gold coin, tossing it to her. "Any idea where I can find Willson?"

Abbey took thd coin out of the air and pointed to one of the tables in a more secluded area. Lara nodded and without saying goodbye made her way over to the hotel manager. As she grew nearer, it became clear Willson wasn't alone and after spotting headful of long slickedback hair and a torso dressed in an expensive suit, Lara wanted nothing more than to turn away and change directions. That would turn out to be an impossible task bscause, sure enough, Willson has already spotted her and raised his hand in greeting and an universal sign of 'come on over'. The figure opposite of him tensed enough for Lara to be able to notice it, the line of his spine becoming rigid, his body morphing into the one of the fighter.

Lara braced herself and purposely made her steps as loud as possible so the figure she now identified as John would know she was coming. Willson stood up as she reached the table, his arms opening up enough for Lara to slide into without difficulty. She hugged Willson back, his familiar warmth pushing a stream of memories of better times into her frontal cortex, making the tears pool into her eyes. The onslaught was so strong Lara had to squeeze her eyes as tightly as possible to stop the tears from falling. She took a deep breath and smiled in, what she hoped was, a reassuring way before she leaned away from Willson and his hands settled on her waist while hers stayed on his forearms.

"Lara," Willson began, his tone warm and welcoming. "welcome back."

"It feels good to be back Willson." Lara honestly hoped she didn't sound as misserable and as pathetic as she felt.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern before his faced morphed back into a calm mask. Lara would've been worried about the way she looked and the state she presented if Willson gave her time to do it. However, him being the observat spectator quickly read the discomfort in her voice and changed the toppic.

"I don't know of you noticed but John is also back in the business and I'm sure the two of you could provide much better company for each other than I would. After all, I have this lovely book of poetry and decanter of 50 year old whiskey waiting for me in my room."

Of course, Lara would've appreciated this diversion, if only the diversion didn't include her being thrown straight into the pit of fire. She opened her mouth to protest but Willson was quick to shut her down as he continued. "Whatever's that you're trying to say, don't. After all, the two of you have so much in common, and I'm an old man that needs his rest. So I bid you goodnight." He turned towards John, that observed the scene without interjecting once, his face carved out of stone and nodded. "Jonathan."

Willson nodded to both of them once again then shuffled out of the booth, his steps as elegant as the suit he was wearing. Lara watched him make his exit and wondered how wonderful would it felt if she could trade places with him. She snapped back to attention as she felt sharp pair of eyes burning a hole in her head and turned back around, only to find John still sitting in his chair, his eyes meeting hers. Lara had to resist the urge to shift from one foot to the other. Instead, she held his gaze with false bravado, equally fake easygoing smile climbing onto her face. "Is this seat taken?" Her voice was soft, completely different than the usual flirty undertone it usually sported. Somehow she didn't get the impression John would appreciate being hit on at the moment even if it was for the sake of easing the tension.

John stared at her for several seconds before slowly shaking his head. "No. Please, have a seat."

Well, let it never be said that Johm wasn't a gentleman, even towards those who didn't fit into the box labelled 'the most pleasant company'.

Lara gripped her drink tighter and slid into the plush chair across from John. His demeanor deminished slightly and his spine wasn't as straight as it was before which Lara took as a good sign. They both sat there in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes in which Lara cooked up a brainstorm to find the best way to approach the elephant in the room. In the end, winging it seemed like the best option so she went for it.

"I'm sorry about-"

"My condolences to yo-"

What she wasn't expecting however was for the Baba Yaga himself to start speaking at the same time. Lara smiled awkwardly while John snapped his mouth shut and nodded politley towards her. "You first."

"I'm sorry about your wife... John, I really, really am."

He looked somewhere far away for a second, his brain probably making him relive every single painful moment and every single memory of his wife, before it was over in a flash.

"I am sorry for what happened to you and your husband as well. I cannot imagine..." he trailed off but John sounded genuinly sorry and Lara felt how small genuine smile replaced her forced grin. This pain, suffering, they shared was unique only to the two of them and yet, each was just as different. Lara appreciated it. She appreciated his genuine concern and his words and on the other hand she appreciated his acknowledgement that he actually wasn't aware of how that particular brand of pain and grief felt. He understood. And yet didn't at the same time.

Lara could live with that.

#john wick x oc #keanu reeves imagines #john wick imagine #john wick franchise

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