Chapter 13: Reconciliation
A/N: So the new tumblr is up and I've still got a lot of work to do on it but don't hesitate to ask me anything on there or just start a conversation. You can also check there for any announcements regarding the stories. I Like the Thrill and In My Dreams are chapters coming soon.
Sidenote: I was listening to Throat Baby while I wrote the explicit portion of the story so...consider yourselves warned. And don't forget to leave those long ass paragraphs I like! I will literally neglect my school work to write for y'all and I'm so serious.
John's bed is ridiculously comfortable. Like so snug that you would probably never consider leaving it if you didn't need to meet the basic needs to survive and carry on with life. It's like being wrapped in a huge warm cloud. The only reason you're awake right now is because your body has essentially forced you to get up instead of the opposite. That only means you're well-rested, something that's usually hard to come by. You can actually count on hand how many times it's happened.
Morning sunlight illuminates the room even with some of the blinds closed. Sitting up, you'd forgotten that you're completely naked as the comforter fell away exposing your top half. Sleeping naked always felt good and the fact that you slept so good in this bed was a testament to that. Lifting a hand to your cheek, you realize that you slept in a face full of makeup. Even the lashes are still intact. While you appreciate the latter, it still doesn't negate the fact that you hate sleeping with makeup on your face. Your skincare routine is extensive for a reason.
Sweetface has somehow let himself back into the bedroom if the slightly ajar door is any indication and is lounging at the foot of the bed. You always had a sneaking suspicion that he was capable of opening doors on his own.
Images from last night started flashing in bits and pieces inside your mind's eye and you cringed mentally. You'd been trussed up like a hog and brought to an abandoned warehouse. The dizziness isn't there anymore and surprisingly your head feels just fine. That's all you can ask for - a reprieve from both aliments. Apart from that, you never even got the chance to call Jasmine and tell her that you made it home safely because well...you didn't.
Last night's events should probably have you on edge and concerned for your safety but oddly enough you're calm about it. And that concerns you more than anything. It's far too difficult to navigate the blur of the prior night's events. The ordeal was over just as quickly as it began and you didn't really have time to sort through your emotions. What should the appropriate reaction be? Although you're not exactly sure what your reaction should be since you've never been kidnapped before. Your mood at the present is very matter-of-fact and you're okay with it for now. If it keeps from you an emotional breakdown then you can live with it.
Everything had been going fine until it wasn't.
Next to you, John is laying on his side facing you, one arm draped over a pillow acting as a barrier between your bodies. It's like the pillow was placed there specifically to ensure that he would not wrap himself around you in the middle of the night. Though you could be wrong. He's still very deep in the midst of sleep, the hard lines of his face relaxed, breaths coming out in a steady fashion. Ironically, you never noticed how defined and full his lashes are. You're still slightly disappointed that he isn't wrapped around you like he usually would be when sharing a bed. You love the feeling of waking up next to him, appreciating the fact that he's still asleep so you can watch him. Rarely, is he seen in a vulnerable state, you'd only seen it a handful of times and it's quite the privilege.
You can't help but wonder if he ever gets tired of coming through like Batman whenever you're caught in a precarious situation. After all, those incidents are happening more frequently and it had to weigh on him just like it weighed on you.
"...are you going to pop up and save me every time I'm in distress?"
"Perhaps."
He never really gave you a straight answer but you have a feeling that he'd given you an answer already foretold what he was going to do. John knew what he was going to do before he even offered a response. In spite of everything, you owe the man a boatload of gratitude for all he does.
Curling your lips, you look down at the bedspread in deep thought. You have to say, in this particular instance you didn't get to witness any carnage that likely ensued after you went under and for that you're grateful. Had John not made an appearance, you and the others would probably be in deep shit. Those people were out to destroy lives - take what people would never be able to get back. Their families, their lives, their sanity. You held the covers tightly to your chest, eyes closing against the thought.
When you glance at John again his brown orbs clash with yours and you nearly flinch. The intensity is there along with hints of concern, like he was waiting to see what you'd do next.
"Hey."
"Hey." He responds.
The moment is undeniably inconvenient and you're not sure what to say or do now he was awake and watching you with those shrewd eyes. Even when he sits up you're still picking your brain for something to say. You quickly averted your gaze elsewhere, unable to look at him.
Sweetface jumps up when he realizes that the both of you are awake and wastes no time sniffing over you excitedly with his tail wagging uncontrollably.
Even with this happening, you silently wished you were somewhere else - somewhere other than here. Being naked and speechless next to him in his bed is utterly embarrassing. And you can't fathom what he's 're still uncertain of where you both stand.
"I um...I need to go home. I have an appointment in a little bit." You stammered, holding the sheet ever closer to your chest.
Redressing in the same dirty clothes would defeat the purpose of bathing last night plus the weather is likely below freezing since it is morning. "I don't have any clothes."
After a few passing seconds, John leaves the bed altogether, retrieving a shirt and a pair of sweats that you must've forgotten when you came to get your bag of clothes. Suddenly, you're thankful for your forgetfulness. His actions are not at all surprising, in fact, it's just like him. Always punctual, always prepared.
Ever patient, John waits as you dress in the clothing, all a part of his selfless nature that seems deep ingrained in him.
You want to thank him for his generosity but one look at his unreadable face renders you unable to speak. John Wick has the power to compel you with just his silence.
Honestly, you don't want to leave but there's business to take care of. You never had to cancel an appointment with Ms. Stella and you wouldn't start now. Plus it isn't exactly an appointment you can just skip out on. "Afterwards...I'd like to come back to your place...if that's alright with you."
Dark brows lifted a fraction then reset in their original place. He gives a stiff nod as an answer and you're relieved. You didn't really know what to expect. Being standoffish isn't what you want anymore. You hope you're not sending him mixed signals because you're not trying to. Last night probably confused him even more.
Per doctor's orders, you're back at the clinic for your Tuesday appointment. Though you're not as upbeat as you usually are at least you're not outright miserable. It smells clean and sterile in the room. The wax paper you're sitting on barely protected you from the coldness of the exam bed. The care they give you hits close to home.
On your phone, there's a message from Jas saying that she basically spent the rest for the night taking care of Alexis after she'd gotten drunk as a skunk. Serves her right for not bothering to stop her when you'd suggested it the first time.
The older woman walks in with the usual equipment you recognize but haven't seen since you first got the implant three years ago. A nurse assistant you've never seen before files in behind her and you automatically assume that she's new. She's young and kinda favors Nicki Minaj a little. Someone has to have mentioned it to her before. With that thought in mind, the lyrics to Itty Bitty Piggy starts playing loud as hell in your head and you have to keep from laughing in order for it not to be awkward. This isn't the time to be childish.
During your earlier checkups, your mother would accompany you, side eyeing you when the physician asked if you were sexually active or not. Your mother knew you weren't, she just wanted to scare you and it worked. Most of the time. Regardless, going to the clinic was always nerve wracking. Doctor offices used to scare the daylights out of you. Now as an adult, you truly have no reason to stress or panic when a clinic appointment rolls around anymore.
Ms. Stella is readying the tools with a manicured hand, her cheerful disposition putting you at ease enough to where you're not as concerned as before. "You look tired...rough night?" She queries, her voice is calm and soothing like always.
"Something like that." You answer.
"I totally understand."
On the nearby table you spot the anesthetic that will be used on you and your heart starts beating a little faster. It dawns on you that this is your first time getting the implant taken out since you haven't been sexually active for long, just a few years. Despite knowing what's coming, you can't dissociate to distract yourself. The only things you remember about the first procedure is that you couldn't watch them put it in, your arms being numb for the rest of the day, and the long ass nap you took when you finally got home. Anything beyond that is a big question mark.
The biggest reason you even got the implant contraceptive was to limit your periods. These monthly periods used to kill you when you started getting them at fifteen. Before then, the worst pain you'd ever felt was a fall off your bike or a paper cut. Period pain was on another level and you would die happier than a squirrel with a nut if you never had to experience it ever again. Some women can handle it with no medicine and continue on with their lives just fine - you know that you're not built like that. One cramp had the ability to fuck up your whole day and you know better than to play with them. With the implant, your periods are irregular and you'll probably have two to three a year.
The nurse starts rubbing what you think is an alcohol pad on the spot where the needle will be inserted to numb your arm and you know what time it is. "This will only take about two minutes. The procedure won't take long at all." She explains.
You can't look. You're way too squeamish to watch someone make an incision on the underside of your arm. Believe it or not, you don't have an irrational fear of needles, you just couldn't watch then do it. All you feel is pressure on your arm. Okay, the painted wall is going to have to distract you now. You barely have time to brace yourself before you feel the needle breach the skin. Just from that small prick, your entire arms goes numb and would likely stay that way for the rest of the day.
Loud commotion from outside the room and frantic screams drew the attention of all three of you. The nurse and Ms. Stella lock eyes before the latter excuses herself and heads towards the door, leaving the nurse to resume the procedure. It occurs to you that something had gone terrible wrong outside.
An air of nervousness surrounds the space and you stare up at the ceiling, trying to pretend that you couldn't see the anxious expression of the nurse. Though you doubted that leaving a patient's room in a rush is proper protocol, something serious had to be going on for it to take place. After a few moments, the nurse sets the tools aside, apologizing and telling you that she'll be right back.
You don't blame her. Hell, you wanted to know what was going on too.
Peering through an open crack in the doorway, you get a clear view of all the chaos erupting within the hallway. One of the nurses lay collapsed on the floor writhing in pain while Ms. Stella and the other nurse were frantically trying to assist her. You're confused until the nurse's shifts from her crouched position and you see the fallen nurses and you see the falling nurse clutching her chest while gasping for air. In a split second, you're able to put two and two together - the woman is having a heart attack. The sight in front of you is so jarring and you're honestly shook. You've never seen anyone have a heart attack, feeling the fear and panic emulating from the workers is staggering.
Despite their training, you can see that the nurses are having a hard time remaining calm as one of their own is in danger of going into cardiac arrest right in front of them. It's pure pandemonium. Given the situation, it's easy to believe that the doctor wanted to save the life of her employee. You can understand that. This is a crisis of the worst kind. Saving the woman's life has become the highest priority.
The minute you stepped foot back into your apartment, you dropped the keys on the table and dropped unceremoniously onto the couch. Your eyelids are too heavy to keep open at this point and you won't put forth an ounce of effort to try. You're not exactly sleepy but your body does feel heavy and a little lethargic.
Consciousness begins to register in your brain and you realize that you've passed out on the couch. Although your sight is hazy at first, you can make out your lover's profile as he towers over you. You internally scold yourself for thinking that he's an intruder.
You don't know how long you've been out but it had to have been a few hours. "What are you doing here?"
"I called. You didn't answer." Oh, now you see. He'd been trying to get into contact with you, couldn't, and got concerned. Your phone is the next bowl that holds your keys. So if he called then you wouldn't have heard it. In your tiredness, you completely forgot you were supposed to meet back at his place.
You were sent home with a band-aid on your arm and no explanation as to what was going on. Although, you already knew. Finding him in your apartment isn't all that surprising. Is it you or does he seem to want to maintain close proximity.
Your arms are still aching at something serious and there's nothing you can do about it.
"Please...stay with me."
From your perception, it's as if everything happens in slow motion. You'd almost forgotten that you already revealed some descriptions of feelings for him. There's a pressure lingering in your chest that you want to dissipate as soon as possible.
"How was the appointment?"
"It went okay. But one of the nurses had a heart attack and it's like the whole place kinda got shook up about it. They patched me up and sent me home pretty quick."
He said that he wasn't upset with you but you don't know what's going on inside his head. Being given little insight into his thoughts and feelings, you haven't been able to rule anything out. It's okay to have a general idea but with no concrete indication it all goes into smoke. Amidst everything, never has he been cruel or dismissive towards you in any setting. He's always had a strong sense of obligation and he's a pretty sensible guy. Nothing gets past him without him noticing.
The words don't register with you like you suppose it should.
Following another failed attempt to read his closed off expression.
There's honest sincerity in his voice as he speaks evenly. Even if there's no conversation you can find comfort in his presence all the same.
"Are you feeling okay?" he calmly inquires.
He doesn't say it but you know what he's referring to. "Yeah I'm okay." Finding the words to offer a valid response is complex. Honestly, you don't know if that's a lie or not. For you, there's no real point in dwelling too much on it. You're not avoiding it, you just don't want to linger. It happened and now it's over. Why not leave it at that?
You're a ball of unresolved inner turmoil. It's more a matter of you not wanting to deal with it as opposed to everything else. If anything you're a little embarrassed to crave contact after you'd expressly forbidden it days ago. For some, seven days might not be that long but for you it was almost too long to be away from him. Now you're at a crossroads unsure of what to do.
It could be possible that fate really wants you both to remain with the vicinity of one another. The notion isn't as far fetched as one would think. The both of you need each other for different reasons, what those are exactly, who knows? And rolling with your assumptions can be dangerous. Or are you thinking too much into it?
"Before everything happened. I never got the chance to ask you how everything went." You remarked.
"The mission was a success. No complications." The unwavering certainty in which he makes statements is nothing short if intriguing - he says what he means and means what he says. No hesitation, no ifs, and's, or but's about it.
Small talk with him is a little strange but it's nothing you can't get used to. "That's good to know."
The man maintains an active schedule, unexpectedly departing if need be then returning at an indeterminate time once a job is completed. Most of his off days are spent with you in some fashion. A man like him is totally capable of separating his work from other aspects of life and has been doing it for quite some time before he met you.
Once the exchange is over you basically scramble to find a distraction that doesn't involve the two of you shifting into a deep conversation. And you have no choice but to pull out the old glass chess set that you won after an AR reading competition in high school. It sat at the top of your closet for so long and this is the first time you're actually used it. Honestly, you preferred to play games like Clue or Connect Four but it's all you have at your apartment. All the other games are at your parents house collecting dust somewhere. Playing games is just a means at passing the time until you can get past the awkwardness.
As it turns out, John is a damned good chess player. He takes the time to consider his movements and their outcome well before he actually touches the pieces. Whereas you tend to take risks and hope it works in your favor. He's definitely played chess before. You on the other hand, haven't played in years so you're understandably rusty. This is the second time he's humored you while playing games. He's just full of surprises. Regardless it's nice to be able to play anything with him. Games are considered a quasi-innocent approach in certain relationships. You've gotten to a point where these types of things are becoming commonplace and you're not bothered. In fact, you prefer it that way.
His face remains placid, patient and poised, waiting for you to make your next move. The nerve of him to still be serious even when playing a freaking board game.
In that moment, you realize that both of you are seizing each other up over a board game.
In a black household, games can get serious so quick especially when playing with family. Between spades and uno, someone will eventually have to argue or square up. With John it's more composed, more strategic.
The tension is wholly palpable in the room but it's not acknowledged by either of you just yet.
"Would you like to talk about it now?" As usual his baritone is composed and unflappable.
John's not really in the business biting his tongue and you put it off for as long as you could. "Yeah I guess." The hesitancy in your voice can't be cloaked. You don't have the energy to put up a fake nonchalant façade in front of him. Addressing it is better than avoiding the topic altogether.
Biting your lip, you had to gage your words carefully even though you really didn't know where to start. The topic is still a sensitive one for you and that is a matter of concern since you've turned into such a crybaby in such a short time. "I know when my emotions get the best of me I tend to get super dramatic. I really should've been an adult about it instead of running away." Frankly, that's not something you feel like you should beat yourself up about as it happens to the best of people. And you're prepared to work on it. "I still feel like I shouldn't have done what I did."
"But you did." He says.
"Yeah. I did."
"Anything else?"
You took a deep breath for this next subject. The anger and jealousy would always be quick to overtake you if you let it. "Concerning perkins…"
You sat up from your place on the floor. "Obviously she has some kind of issue with me, I don't know what it is. Not saying that I'm gonna eventually run into her again, but I can't rule it out. That being said, I don't want to be placed in a certain position and I don't want you to be placed in a certain position." You reasoned.
He merely watches you, silently allowing you to speak your peace without being interrupted.
"I can't tell you to stay away from her because you're a grown man but...given the tension between us and everything that's transpired till now…" You lapsed into silence, hoping your overall point is getting across.
You're staring at the pieces on the board. "I don't like the way she acts. Consider it a clash of personalities."
From the first interaction, you could tell that you weren't going to vibe with her. Hired killer or not, she had one more time to try you and her ass is grass. You'll swallow a jean jacket before you ever let her play with you again. She might have guns but you have a few cousins that like to pistol play too. It's really whatever at this point.
John inclines his head. "Understandable."
Oh. That's it?
Most men would fight against it but you have to remember that John isn't like most men.
"Oh yeah. I did say that." You flush. Your memory isn't the best especially when you're in your feelings and spewing word vomit. "Is that...okay with you?"
He brushes a calloused thumb over your head. "Yes. It is. I will hold you to your word."
"Um...what word?"
He silently chuckles and your jaw nearly drops. So he can laugh. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe you stated to me that you are committed to this."
You heart flutters. Though it's not an admission of love it still held the implication.
"Did you work while I was gone?"
"No."
"That's...unusual. I haven't been doing much either just trying to get my head right. Doing random stuff."
"...like going to the gym?"
"Yeah...wait how did you know I-" In that moment, your brows nearly disappeared into her hairline. There's no way. You didn't hear that right.
Did he just-
He couldn't have known that unless… "Have you been following me?" You whispered.
His face is void of any emotion and the silence that follows deafening. This is more telling than an actual verbal response and it makes your heart drop to your stomach. You can't believe it.
He saw you. He knew that you went to the gym with Tre. And is it you or did you detach a hint of jealousy in his voice at the implication. Maybe you're just imagining it. You're pleasantly surprised at this new development. You just can't believe that he would do something like that - you seriously didn't take him for the type.
It's one thing for you to do it but it's another entirely for him to partake. First he's saving you from bad guys not he's following you places. What a revelation. Now you both are pretty much even. Though you think he just likes to get his get back. You're learning more and more about him as time goes on.
How could you have forgotten who you were dealing with? John Wick is a man of focus. Once he sets his sights on you, it's virtually impossible to escape.
Hell, you don't even know what to say right now. He just threw you for a loop in the most unexpected way. All that time you spent feeling horrible thinking you overstepped your boundaries for him to go and do the exact same thing and seemingly not feel bad about it. The real question is, how are you gonna move now knowing this?
So you popped up on him and he's following you. In a way you're, basically matching each other's energy. You love to see it.
In your mind, it's not wrong to feel possessive over him. As a matter of fact, it's just a reality that he'll have to get used to from now on. He shouldn't mind since he's following you places as well.
Time passes by extremely fast and he's probably gotten about ten wins under his belt. You're heated about it but you refuse to quit on a loss. Though debatable circumstances, you end up winning the very last round albeit barely. You suspect that he might've helped as he didn't play as skillfully the last time. Not that you'll admit it but a win is a win. Nothing's gonna stop you from celebrating victory.
In retrospect, you're not entirely sure if the break was the best thing for either of you. The break was essentially you challenging yourself to see how long you could go without seeing him. That's all you could chalk it up to when everything was said and done. In the end, nothing was really accomplished. You pushed him away for a duration in the hopes of ridding yourself of the love you have for him only to hurt yourself in the process and inadvertently punish him for something he didn't have control over. You were so deep in your own feelings that you completely overlooked how he might have felt. It was foolish and you feel foolish.
It's only now that you're realizing that you might've done this just to avoid telling him how you really feel. After all, you'd still woken up in his bed the next morning after having been taken care of the previous night.
As far as you're concerned, you still don't trust his colleague, you still hold some insecurities in your heart and you still love him. Therefore the overall point of the break is lost. Pointless. It had all been for nothing.
Once the game is over, John joins you in bed. A soft sigh leaves your lips when you comfortably settle your body over his, laying your head on his abdomen. He breathes deeply under your head, lightly pushing your head up and down. You're content to just hug him like a giant teddy bear for the time being. Shrek 2 is playing on the tv in your bedroom and you're fully engrossed like it's your first time seeing it. You can practically recite the movie word for word, since you used to watch it over and over like a maniac. And before long you're engaging him in a riveting conversation about how the movie is a masterpiece. Though you doubt he's seen the movie before.
"Shrek saved Fiona from a castle guarded by a dragon in the first movie then they fell in love by the end."
He has no way of knowing this but this movie has spawned some of the greatest memes since SpongeBob.
You can't help that your body tends to naturally gravitate towards him. It's almost like you're trying to make up for all the time spent away from him, not being able to physically touch him like this. The man never ceased to cross your mind while you were apart. Reconciling with him is all you wanted. It's so easy to be attracted to his aura and how he carries himself. For you, it's important to feel safe around him and his energy allows for it. To top it off, your body has grown ridiculously hot just being close to him.
Before you met John, you only missed men after 10:59pm, other than that they served no real purpose for you.
As you both bask in the companionable silence, a hand is weaving through your hair and the action might lull you to sleep again. His stomach is firmer than you thought it would be. His body is soft but solid or more accurately stiff with tension just like yours. There's something magnetic about him that pulls you in every time. From what you've been told, quiet men absolutely love outgoing women. Big dick men are quiet as hell too. He's a prime example.
Great. Just great. Three minutes into cuddling and your pussy is already throbbing. With him you tend to get horny quicker than quick. It's kinda sad that you can't get through one movie without wanting to jump his bones.
You're feeling mischievous and needy. John took care of you and comforted you after last night and now you want him to comfort you in another way. Now that you think about it, the most intimate part of him is only a few inches from your face. There's nothing wrong with a little rubbing. You slide a hand up to palm it. You softly fondled the bulge in his pants. Since last night, you noticed that touches have been kept at a minimum. Someone would eventually have to give in to the physical need you both have for one another.
Not a single word has to be spoken between you two. Your skin is tingling excitedly, pulse rising. The anticipation is at an all time high. You don't exactly know where you're actions will lead you or how he'll react but you're about to fuck around and find out. Both of you are pent up and in need of an outlet from all the stress that's been present for weeks. He's in the clear to fuck you, suck you, and do all the things he hasn't been able to since he returned from his mission.
God...you want to feel him.
Only after a moment's hesitation, you finally decide to look into his handsome visage with his dark facial hair and chiseled jawline. Warmth spreads across your face as you look at him. From the heated look on his face, he's about to wreck you.
Your heart is jackhammering like crazy, belly churning uncontrollably. It doesn't help that your body is literally anticipating what was coming and it's nearly trembling with delight. Truthfully, there's not much you've explored in the arena of sexuality. You're not a psychic but you think you're about to receive some post break dick.
John's length is already standing at attention when you pull the throbbing veiny muscle out. He's so heavy and warm in your hand. Watching intently as your hand works over him like silk over steel. You caught the subtle tightening of his shoulders as you immediately started mouthing at him, wrapping your lips around the head and swirling your tongue into the small slit. You mainly focus on that vein on the underside of his dick before licking up a bead of pre-cum oozing from the slit. His thighs are so tense and your jaw has to open wide for you to swallow some of him down.
Instantly, you hear his breath hitch. He doesn't make a lot of vocalizations during sexual activity so when he does it always shocks you.
Suddenly, the interest in foreplay just isn't present anymore.
John positions you to lie flat on the bed and the power exchange is clear. He's the one meant to lead and dictate in the bedroom. You can't do anything but surrender under his sexual expertise. Though the torrent of affliction there's always a driving need to be touched. It probably didn't help that he was on you like you reeked of pheromones.
He's busy running his capable hands over your brown skin and showering your breasts with lavish attention. Your skin felt as if it might melt away with the way it was burning under his touch. He nipped at your earlobe gently, moving down to lick at the curve of your neck. You incline his head upwards and seal your lips over his, purring when John's wet tongue probes the inside of your warm mouth passionately. Both of you are hurriedly peeling away at each fabric of clothing until none cover your bodies anymore.
The positioning is something new with him folding your legs up and over your head. You're essentially folded in half and you know he's trying to do some damage. There's immense pressure in your stomach and your mobility is completely limited to the point where you aren't able to move unless he allows you to. You gasped at the first entry and it turns into a groan when he finally bottoms out. Working the stiff flesh into your overly receptive body, you're surely wet enough for a smooth entry. All the while, calm brown eyes are staring straight into yours, the imperceptible softness is present in them once again.
He slides in and out with long satisfying strokes of dick and the angle is the deepest it's ever been. He was making you feel that shit too. You're already squirming and shaking against the onslaught of ecstasy.
In a language you still understand, he whispers what you can only assume to be praises in your ear. His voice is level and remnants of his body heat is all over yours. Your mind is already in and out of consciousness and you don't know which way is up right now. You manage to hold his gaze until your eyes ultimately roll back, breathing unsteady.
He's applying enough pressure to make you moan out, continuously piercing the velvety heat of your cunt. The scent of him so close is tantalizing.
Through all this, John is totally silent in response to your cries.
Reopening your heavily-lidded eyes, you peered up to see him stroking his dick while hungrily gazing at your sopping core. The friction is driving you up the mattress in the most delicious way. When he aimed the thrusts a little to the right you wailed like a slut. This is nastier than some of the raunchiest porn. Your hands scramble to find something to hold unto.
Though you hate to admit it, you're straining having to take him in his position. He's really putting his back into it. It's honestly tortuous what he's doing but it feels so fucking good.
Why were you ever upset with this man?
With him doing what he's doing he won't ever have to worry about a break again.
He's stroking the shit out of you and that slow, hard pace has your body on lock. You're experiencing a different feeling, one you've never felt before. John's dick is simply immaculate and that's on Mary had a little lamb. It took a conscious effort to pull in a few breaths of air. Searing warmth is emanating from you in waves and your insides are left twisted in knots. Soon perspiration is coating your overwrought body.
You were about two seconds from erupting when he suddenly pulls out unexpectedly. The confusion doesn't have time manifest properly before your entire waist is upended towards his face and in a split second he's devouring your womanhood. Leaving your labia more soaked than it already was.
He must really miss you to stop in the middle of sex and eat your pussy like Sunday dinner. Running his tongue over the slit, using the twirling pink muscle to get to the hidden bundle of nerves underneath. Laving over your pussy indulgently. It's tiring enough having to deal with a tentative tongue like his. A long finger slips inside, the minor penetration making you suck in a harsh breath. Soon after the dam breaks and explosive tremors rock your body as a result.
You can't even speak and you realize that you might cry. It's no wonder why you fell for him so quickly. He has to know what he's doing. He has no business giving it to you like this. It feels so heavenly that you think you might die.
You're not overreacting, you actually might fucking die.
He wasn't even giving you time to rest. The position is changed while you pant, trying to come down from your high. Pressing chest to chest, John rests most of his weight on you, keeping your legs up while he's hands are stationery at your shoulders. His eyes are burning into your soul as he swiftly reattaches his mouth to yours. Saliva is being salaciously exchanged. In just that instance, you don't give a damn who's upset you're not leaving this. You can't focus on anything than him drilling you with his hand providing added stimulation to your clit.
A melody of whimpers and moans quickly engulf the room. Your reactions are on full display for him and you think he revels in it. Between your hair and flushed pleasure-etched face, you must be looking wild as hell.
This is his second time pulling out and you think he's deliberately denying himself an orgasm.
Lifting your flower back into his salivating mouth, drinking every bit of sweetness that's flowing from you. Shit, you're getting dizzy.
The way he's slurping on your clit makes you weak with desire. He's making your whole world spin. You're on the edge of climax just waiting to be pushed off. The knots are starting to unravel. Before long your entire frame is seizing up and you're falling apart at the seams. The overstimulation is sinful.
Smearing pre-cum and your slick over his erection with his left hand while he's devouring the sight of you with his eyes. It's incredibly sensuous.
He aligned his shaft back to your slick opening and dived right back in. One of his hands comes up to cradle your head, staring straight into your eyes while he ploughs you. While he's doing all of this nasty shit to you, his face maintains an indecipherable expression though his eyes are practically burning with desire while he surges forward into the most saturated part of your body. Watching him move his hips is hypnotizing.
"YA skuchal po tebe...YA skuchal po tebe." He murmured into your ear, his tone is quieter and deep. The deepness of his voice turns you on in ways you can barely comprehend. His voice is reverberating through your mouth and shoots sensation straight down to your pussy. You don't know what he's saying but you can hear how strained he sounds.
With that, your body detonated like a bomb, back arching upwards, toes painfully curling. The coil in your stomach bursts and before you know it, you're squirting juices all over him. John must've unlocked something in your body because that's never happened before. He just keeps going without a single pause in rhythm, doesn't stop stabbing into that sweet spot. You have no control over it either, it's just leaking out like an outside water hose. And it's so embarrassing but you can't feel anything other than spine tingling ecstasy. The rush of endorphins is too much for you to handle.
Whereas your head is still in the clouds, he's still using his deep voice to talk you through a nut.
When a long cry is emitted from your mouth John's tongue seeps out to circle the outline of your parted lips, heated torso is coated in your wetness. The bedsheet totally ruined. You just know he's gonna leave you a bigger stack of cash after this.
After ten good thrusts he stills, teeth burying themselves into your neck, pumping creamy semen into you. Why does getting nutted in feel so good?
You released a small sigh of contentment as you nestled against his body. Sleepiness creeping up on you in waves but you're determined to fight it for as long as you can.
The whole session had provided you the reassurance that you needed. Both of you just lie there completely naked, relaxing in the enclosure of his side and arm. All you hear is breathing, slow and steady. The clean up can wait. The only bad thing is, someone had to sleep in the wet spot and it wouldn't be you.
You're slightly drowsy and bone tired but determined to stay awake this time.
One thing still puzzled you though...how did he know that you were in trouble? You'd asked before but he never did provide a clear answer. That's one question that you desperately wanted answered.
"John?"
He regarded you for a moment before closing his eyes once more. "Yes?"
"You still haven't told me how you found me…"
He never hesitates to give you complete honesty every time and you know that this is nothing to lie about. But you don't understand why he's so reluctant to tell you. It's not like you'll be upset about it. You just wanted to know. There's a sneaking suspicion that he just wanted to keep the answer to himself.
What a stubborn man. It's not like you have room to talk but...
You had to try something different. "I want to apologize for-" You started.
"I told you it's fine."
Okay. So he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. You can understand that. Now that that was out of the way…
"...um. Can you tell me more about what you do? I'd really like to know." You voiced, suddenly eager to maintain conversation.
"What about it specifically?"
"I don't know...whatever you want to tell me I guess."
"Mm." He replied.
"How long have you been doing it?"
"All my life." He sounds so detached.
You silently calculate the depth of everything he's saying, letting the pieces come together.
"Did you used to work for the mob?"
"Years before."
"So are you freelance now?"
"That's one way to put it." He drawled. "A hitman's availability is based solely on the client's ability to pay."
Okay, you can understand that. He's basically saying that if they ain't talking money then he doesn't want any dealings. You can't explain just how relatable that is. He's in the business to get paid, bottom line. John is definitely not with the bullshit.
"Aren't you supposed to be more...covert? Like live underground in a secret chamber or something."
John dryly commented like it was nothing but it was certainly something to you. This is the most he's ever talked and you're ecstatic.
"You watch too many movies."
"Yeah so?"
Suddenly, you get it now - why you're to remain a closely guarded secret. And you aren't looking to be collateral damage in the wake of his enemies.
"What about the people that took me...were they-"
"Lowly sex traffickers with no affiliation." He asserted.
"So people like you...hitmen. Do they have a normal life outside of killing?" The question hangs awkwardly in the air.
He was silent for a while, like he was considering his answer. "The vast majority cannot maintain a normal life. It's undead of."
But what about you? You wanted to ask. Though you figured it would be better just to leave it at that. You already know he's made allowances for you that wouldn't be possible for anyone else. For that reason, you're accustomed to believe that this ongoing relationship between you two is something that just happened and now you both can't leave each other alone. Before you, he was probably used to being alone, isolated.
You can't see him offering his assassination services to anymore who can't afford him.
"What about the police? The government? Do they know what's going on?"
John stares at the ceiling for a moment. "There's a long-lasting agreement. The worlds are kept expressly separate so long as either abides by their designated rules."
Oh wow. It's all so interesting. From what you've gathered, there's a world of killers and a normal one. He operates in a murder-based economy.
"What about people like me? The people in the gray area."
"Civilians who know too much are either killed or sworn to secrecy."
Secrecy? You don't remember swearing not reveal anything about what you knew. Even though you'd have to be the biggest dumbass on the planet to even think of running your mouth. Maybe he had enough trust in you not to tell. Keeping your mouth closed is the best thing you can do seeing as your very life depends on it. And last time you checked you weren't trying to die so…
"Well whenever you get sent overseas again...can you bring me some more cookies?" A blush creeping up the side of your neck.
"Okay."
It goes without saying that John Wick is a criminal undertaker. You choose not to think about all the people he's killed. If he was going around killing innocent people then it would be a different story. But he's not and you don't have the justification to question his actions from a moral standpoint.
When you glance up you notice John dozing off obviously tired.
You sit up hastily, placing a hand on his chest to rouse him. "Wait! Last question…"
"Hn."
Biting your lips, you considered your words carefully before you spoke, not really knowing if you wanted to ask or not. "That word you say all the time. Milaya...tell me what it means."
Heavily lidded brown eyes shift to yours. "It means many things…"
"Like?"
His eyes close once more. "It's Russian. A term of affection mostly reserved for a beautiful woman."
With him being the hardened man he is, you could never really tell what he thought of you. Now you have confirmation from his own mouth. It was enough to make your stomach do backflips. "You think I'm beautiful?" You whispered.
"And this is surprising to you?" He questions.
Your heart is beating extra fast now. "A little."
"Hey John-"
"Sleep."
"But I have something to tell-"
"Sleep."
With that, you lowered your head back unto his chest, mind racing a mile a minute.
You're a prisoner of your connection with him, heart held captive by your indecisiveness. His own predilection towards you is complex enough. And yet, in a way you have no qualms about welcoming it with open arms. It's terrifying and remarkable. Being sprung on him is truly something.
Now you know him better than you have before. You know that you can't run from your feelings forever.
Though at the same time, that love might hinder the status of the relationship in ways unprecedented. You've often thought that he might like the situation as it stands. But how long would it go on?
The play-pretend game has long since been passed and now you need to come to terms with that in order to act accordingly. You've broken down in front of him, confided in him during your lowest moments. You can't for the life of you understand why it's so hard being upfront about your feelings. In the back of your mind, you're afraid that it's not possible given who he is - what he is. You could let things be as they are just like in the beginning. Just be happy with what you can get and imagine all the things you cannot.
Even if nothing comes of it, he has to know. You can worry about the outcome later.
You let some time pass before you ultimately closed your eyes, letting the rise and fall of your lover's chest lull you to sleep.
A quick rundown of the conversation flashing within your brain like movie frames. Like all the information passed to you is being stored in the deepest recess of your subconscious. And your eyes swiftly flicked open.
Wait...is John Wick Russian?
Translations: "YA skuchal po tobe." - "I missed you."
Tumblr: teejaywyatt1
