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rosevette · 2 days

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·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS pt. 3 my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

📞ྀིྀི résumé : you want to get back at john, rebelling from his..recent advances, but was running away the right decision? (plot inspired by an ask! thank you for the thoughts, anon!)

1.6k words. tags: murder, death, violence.

୭ৎ thank you all for your patience ! this is a bit shorter than the previous chapters, but i finally finished part 3 of this fic. thank you all for the support ! (has not been proofread, so please excuse any errors!)

That phone call with Marquis…how inviting he was you thought, smirking at the fact that you were just about to go against John’s plans.

Payback.

Ignoring the voice of reason that whispered John's warnings in the depths of your mind, you slipped out of the Ritz hotel, a cloak of darkness enveloping you like a shroud.

“I’m going to go down to the lobby for some food,” You exit your room, announcing yourself to John. You tried to dress casual, so it wouldn’t raise his suspicions.

“Be quick,” His voice low as his gaze deadpanned at yours.

You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your steps making their way out the door, again, trying to remain casual until you took the spiral stairs to the first floor, and eventually, out the door.

The moon hung like a spectral guardian in the night sky, its silver light casting eerie shadows across the cobblestone streets of Paris.

The taxi ride was short, Marquis had wanted to meet you just outside of “le jardin du Luxembourg,”

As you approached the park, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a suffocating fog, clouding your senses with doubt and uncertainty.

With cautious steps, you ventured into the hushed interior of the gallery, the air heavy with the scent of freshly painted canvases and whispered conversations. Yet, instead of the elegant splendor you remembered, you were met with a scene straight from the depths of your worst nightmares.

There, bathed in the sickly glow of flickering candlelight, stood the Marquis, his usually immaculate appearance marred by a savage intensity as he loomed over a prone figure on the floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched in horror, unable to tear your gaze away from the grisly spectacle unfolding before your very eyes.

The Marquis’s movements were swift and precise, his hands a blur of motion as he plunged a gleaming dagger into the heart of his helpless victim. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sickening scent of death as the life ebbed from the victim’s eyes, leaving behind nothing but a hollow emptiness.

Desperation clawed at your chest as you struggled to make sense of the carnage before you, the reality of the situation sinking in with a bone-chilling finality. The Marquis was not the gentleman he pretended to be; he was a monster cloaked in the trappings of nobility, a predator lurking in the shadows of society.

Before you could react, the Marquis's cold gaze locked onto yours, sending a chill down your spine. In that moment, you knew that you were in grave danger, a witness to his unforgivable crimes.

“…you’re early,” He scolded, his tone followed with one of irritation and anger. He bores his piercing green eyes into yours, his face painted with annoyance.

“H-How could you..?!” You stammer, your words catching in your throat, you start stepping back slowly.

“I would stay here if I were you. We can talk,” he offered, trying to stay as calm as possible, keeping himself poised.

With a surge of adrenaline, you turned and fled into the night, the echoes of the actions of the Marquis ringing in your thoughts like a macabre symphony of madness. But even as you raced through the labyrinthine streets of Paris, a sense of impending doom loomed over you like a dark cloud, casting a pall over your every thought and action.

Meanwhile, John, ever vigilant in his role as your protector, patrolled the corridors of the hotel with a watchful eye. But as the hours stretched on and the night grew deeper, a sense of unease gnawed at his gut like a hungry beast. Something was amiss, a shadow lurking just beyond the edges of his awareness.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that John’s worst fears were realized. A sharp pang of dread pierced his heart as he entered your room, only to find it empty, the bed neatly made as if you had never been there at all. Panic surged through him like a tidal wave, driving him to scour every corner of the hotel in search of any sign of your whereabouts.

With each passing moment, John’s worry mounted, his mind racing with a thousand dire possibilities. Had you been kidnapped? Or worse, had you ventured into the clutches of the Marquis, heedless of the danger that lurked within his shadowy realm?

Driven by a single-minded determination, John embarked on a relentless pursuit, his footsteps echoing through the deserted streets of Paris as he followed the faint trail of clues you had left behind, checking back at the private drivers that served the hotel.

“I’m looking for a young woman. She took one of your taxis around 11:30,” He says softly to the receptionist, and in response she clicked on the keyboard, checking the records and history.

Now that John knows where you are, his panic only grows.

Even as you sought refuge in the darkness, a sense of dread gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, a silent reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond the reach of the flickering streetlights.

Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the darkness, a menacing figure cloaked in the shadows of the night. It was Chidi, the Marquis’s loyal enforcer, his cold gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that sent a shiver of fear down your spine.

“You shouldn’t have run,” Chidi’s voice was a low, menacing growl, his words dripping with malice as he advanced towards you, his movements deliberate and predatory.

“I won’t let you take me!” you spat, your voice trembling with a fierce determination to escape the clutches of the Marquis and his ruthless minions.

But even as you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. It was John, his steely gaze locking onto Chidi with a silent warning as he stepped forward to stand at your side.

“Back off, Chidi,” John’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, his eyes flashing with a fierce determination as he squared off against the menacing enforcer.

As John stepped forward to confront Chidi, the air crackled with tension, the anticipation of impending violence hanging heavy in the night.

Chidi, a formidable adversary with a reputation as fearsome as his name, squared his shoulders, his eyes narrowed into slits of malice as he regarded John with undisguised contempt.

"You think you can stop me, Wick?" Chidi's voice dripped with disdain, his lips curled into a cruel sneer as he flexed his muscles, readying himself for the inevitable clash.

"You may be good, but you're not that good."

John's response was a low, guttural growl, his fists clenched at his sides as he braced himself for the onslaught.

"I don't intend to let you harm her," he spat, his voice edged with a steely resolve that brooked no argument.

With a snarl of defiance, Chidi lunged forward, his movements fluid and precise as he unleashed a barrage of lightning-fast strikes aimed at John's vulnerable points. But John was no stranger to combat, his reflexes honed to a razor's edge by years of relentless training and experience.

With a grace that belied his age, John danced nimbly out of Chidi's reach, his movements fluid and precise as he deftly parried each blow with a skill born of instinct and muscle memory. Each clash of fists and feet echoed through the deserted streets, a symphony of violence played out against the backdrop of the Parisian night.

As the battle raged on, the two men locked in a deadly dance of death, their movements a blur of motion as they traded blows with a ferocity that bordered on primal. The sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberated through the air, punctuated by grunts of effort and the occasional hiss of pain.

But even as fatigue began to weigh heavy upon their limbs, neither John nor Chidi showed any sign of backing down. For them, this was more than just a fight; it was a battle for survival, a test of strength and endurance that would determine the outcome of their fates.

With a final, desperate surge of energy, Chidi launched himself at John with all the fury of a cornered beast, his fists a blur of motion as he unleashed a barrage of strikes aimed at John's vulnerable points. But John was ready, his defenses impenetrable as he weathered the storm of blows with a calm determination that bordered on unyielding.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. With a swift, decisive motion, John landed a devastating blow to Chidi's midsection, sending him crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. As Chidi lay sprawled upon the cobblestones, gasping for breath, John stood victorious, his chest heaving with exertion as he regarded his fallen adversary with a mixture of triumph and regret.

For a moment, silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Chidi's labored breathing. And then, with a groan of pain, Chidi struggled to his feet, his eyes blazing with a newfound respect for his opponent.

"You may have won this round, Wick," Chidi's voice was gruff with exhaustion, his words tinged with a begrudging admiration. "But mark my words, this isn't over. The Marquis will have his revenge."

With that ominous warning hanging in the air, Chidi melted back into the shadows, disappearing into the night like a phantom of vengeance. And as the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the city of lights, John knew that the battle was far from over. But for now, at least, he had emerged victorious, his resolve unshaken in the face of adversity.

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y2kawaii · 1 day

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༊*·˚ The Grieving Husband And Lost Widow — Part Two (John Wick X Fem!Reader)

Summary: (Y/N) had just met John after storming out of your now deceased husband's hospital room, the very room you've spent the last three weeks in to support your dying husband. After a brief introduction between the two, (Y/N) offers to get John a drink at the nearby bar. At the bar, (Y/N) would have a more wild night than you could've ever bargained for. part one, part two, part three (coming soon!)

Tonight would be (Y/N)'s first evening without your husband, your soulmate. So, what better way to get through the grueling hours by drinking the pain away with the now ex of an old friend of yours, who has also passed? It sounded just like what you needed after crying your heart out for the last few weeks. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ John was walking in long yet calculated strides, his eyes carefully scanning the environment around them. Although John didn't make any mentions of Helen, (Y/N) would be able to see the grief behind his eyes. Not knowing that Helen passed yet, (Y/N) decided to express your concerns for John.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You lost someone, too, huh?" (Y/N) broke the tense silence between them, laying down each word with care and in a gentle voice that would be meant to soothe John.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Yeah..." John answered, nodding his head slowly while staying vigilant. Although he was at first hesitant to add more, John would briefly glance over at (Y/N) as he noticed that you were taking off the black lace veil that was covering your tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes. A light then went off in John's head, finally recognizing who you were: one of Helen's friends.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "—My wife." Those last two words from John made your heart shatter like glass, instantly piecing together what he had meant by his answer. The memories that you made with Helen over the years made (Y/N) begin to tear up worse than before, but you did your best to stifle them back and maintain your composure. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I'm sorry," (Y/N) replied with sincerity.

John would pick up on the change of your voice, making him halt in his steps to turn to face towards you. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You look like you're freezing." He pointed out, making a small gesture of his hand in your direction before he reached both of his hands around his back to take off the coat that he was wearing. "Here, take this,"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Oh..." You feel your cheeks heat up against the coldness of the rain that was falling onto your face. Although you were initially anxious to accept John's offer as the memory of your husband flashed through your mind once again, you suddenly felt the warm leather wrap around your back and arms.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Thank you."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "It's no problem," John said with a light nod of his head. He then turned back to focus on covering more of the road ahead of the two until they would be able to spend the night at the bar together; hopefully, forgetting about their pain for a at least few hours. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The two continued their walk down the sidewalk with John ensuring that (Y/N) wasn't cold from the rain or in any danger from the risks of walking out in the New York streets late at night. Wanting to learn more about the man you were now walking with, (Y/N) took in a sharp breath and decided on a question that you felt like he would be comfortable with answering. After all, it's an average question that nearly everyone asks each other.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "So...what do you do for work?" (Y/N) asked while keeping your voice calm and gentle as to not possibly strike an unpleasant response out of John. However, John's response was quick and calculated, like he was all too familiar with what his answer would be to the mundane question; one that he always knew he'd be asked often.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I'm an attorney." John said nonchalantly, even shrugging his shoulders up a bit while making sure each step that he took held purpose, even if that only meant walking to a nearby bar with a friend of his dead wife.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Really? My dad was an attorney." (Y/N) inquired with curiosity, your head tilting slightly to one side while following John along the stretching sidewalk.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "What about you?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Huh?" You ask, confused.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "What do you do for work?" John repeated (Y/N)'s question, turning his head in your direction briefly before returning his attention to the sidewalk and crowds ahead.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Oh..." You nervously chuckle, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm a travel nurse."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Hm, so you...save people?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I always try my best to."

John appeared to take your words to heart, but his expression suddenly shifted into a more solemn one as a thought crossed his mind. But, as he was about to speak it, you point out to the nearby bar that was bustling with other patrons who were going through the two front doors. Subconsciously, being the kind gentleman he always was with women, John began walking towards the door to open it for (Y/N). ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Upon entering the Red Circle, you would notice how loud and bright it was inside compared to the white and blue walls of the hospital you've practically confined yourself into for the sake of staying with your husband. You get a drink for yourself, and one for John to uphold your offer from earlier.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "To the loves of our lives?" John suggested, raising up the shot glass of whiskey in his hand with a barely noticeable smile - but, it was still there.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "To the loves of our lives."

With that, the night seemingly blurred by the two as they drank the heartbreak away of losing their significant others. However, you were a bit of a lightweight; even only having two or three drinks can lead you to having a wild and unforgettable night. (Y/N) and John stayed with each other throughout the night until you became interested in another man who was attempting to work his charm on you. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The man, who introduced himself to you as "Seth", was charismatic and described himself to be an "ambitious businessman". Using all of the right words, you would eventually snap back into reality with your arm locked into Seth's.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "My, you look lovely tonight, милый (darling)."

That one damned word was all it took for John's ears to perk up and whip his head in (Y/N)'s direction, and that was when he noticed that you were about to leave the bar with Seth. Knowing Seth's history, John jumped into action and sprinted towards the both of you with a determined and fierce glare behind his eyes. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Она со мной." ("She's with me.") John spoke up coldly to Seth as he approached (Y/N)'s side and reached one of his hands out to your shoulder from behind. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Seth didn't have to turn his head around to see who was standing behind him; he already knew just based on John's dangerously dark voice who it was.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Бабай." ("Boogeyman.") Seth hissed with a distinct tone of hatred laced through his voice. Although he didn't make any sudden movements against (Y/N), John would be able to notice his grip tighten around your waist as a warning.

You just stand there, drunk and now more confused than ever. One minute, you were sobbing by the bedside of your dying husband. And now? You're in the local bar with two men seemingly starting an altercation between each other over you. All that you can do then is feel your heartbeat beginning to increase at a rapid rate as your mind raced with questions with the loudest of them all being:

"What the Hell did I just get myself into?"

special mentions: @br-24085

#y2kawaii #tghalw #ff #john wick #the keanuverse #keanuverse #keanu #keanu reeves #fanfiction

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