#x f!reader.

Without skipping a beat, you rush to the entrance doors and take a few steps up until you are in the bus. Placing a few coins in the tip box, you flash a warm smile at Sam before going to sit down in a seat that had a tourist already sat on the other side, making you let out a dreaded sigh as you secure your spot near them.

“This is my first time in L.A., it’s very busy.” The tourist began a conversation with you, unprompted.

“Yeah,” You reply, your tone dry as you attempt to look around the bus. A silent way for you to express to the tourist that you weren’t interested in talking right then, you were mentally busy trying to memorize every word and line for your interview today.

“I love public transportation. Makes it very easy.”

“Well, I love my car. I miss my car,” You say. Although the tourist was too oblivious to notice, there was a new hint of annoyance laced through your voice as you remember driving your own car, which was totaled in a speeding accident a mere few weeks ago.

Jack, meanwhile, was on his way to the Los Angeles police department, the very building he’s been going to work for the last few years of his life. He had a smile on his face, thinking of and planning what he’d do with his girlfriend after another long day working on the force. However, he would quickly be surprised by the explosion of a nearby bus, causing him to duck down and use the recently opened driver’s side car door he’d just stepped out of.

With his instincts immediately kicking in, Jack rushed over to the bus that was now being consumed by raging and brightly glowing flames. His heart was racing, every beat sounded like thunder roaring from inside his chest as his mind worked to get a hold on what was happening around him. Darting to the bus, Jack felt a mixture of relief and confusion surge through him at the sight of there being nobody inside. So, did someone rig a vacant bus for no reason? No, this was a set-up…

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

“How was that as a light-show, Jack?” A deep, gravely voice could be heard on the other end.

“Payne! How did you—”

“Now, before you start going off like that bomb just did, I should tell you that there’s another little bus that I just so happened to get my hands on, and gave it a little…touch-up.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath.”

“Oh, I know.” Payne chuckled darkly, which was muffled by the telephone. “You fucked over my life one, two, and three times. One time too many.”

“What do you want?”

“That little girlfriend of yours, she just got on the 5050 bus a little ways away from here. You get on that bus, and make sure it doesn’t go under fifty miles an hour. What do you do?”

“I’d want to know where the bus went.”

“Ah, well then, I’ll tell you the bus is routed to Broadway Street—”

Before Payne couldn’t even finish his sentence before Jack began darting towards the direction of the street he’d just been given, his shoes hitting hard against the concrete road that was paved beneath him. He ran as fast as he could until he caught a glimpse of the bus turning down a street in a nearby intersection. With his eyes widening, Jack promptly raced towards a car that was stopped at a stop light, flashing his police badge at the driver.

“LAPD, I need to use your car.” Jack tried to say calmly despite the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins.

“Wait, wha—” The civilian started to speak up before he was promptly cut off by Jack, who began pushing him into the passenger seat to take over the driver’s side in a quick and swift motion.

“Hey, man, what are you doing?!” He shouted while holding onto the hood of his car with a tight grip as Jack sped to catch up to the bus his spouse was riding.

“LAPD, there’s a bomb on your bus!” Jack evaded the man’s question, his priority being the passengers whose lives were in danger on that very bus.

With increasing speeds, Jack drove the man’s car up close to the bus from the next lane adjacent to it, his head turning to direct his attention onto Sam, who was focused on driving the bus. However, he would soon take notice of the murmurs from the other passengers, causing him to flicker his gaze to the two doors that were beside him — and currently closed.

“Sam! That’s my boyfriend, let him on!” You speak up, the panic evident behind your tone of voice, causing Sam to reach for the lever to allow Jack inside.

“Everyone, I am Officer Jack Traven, LAPD. There is an issue with this bus. It cannot go over fifty miles an hour, no matter what.” He announced simultaneously while he got on the bus, showing the passengers and Sam his badge as a way to silently tell the people his identity as he spoke.

“Babe…what kind of an issue?” You hesitantly asked, knowing that his answer could possibly send the others into mayhem. Yet, the curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t stop the question from spilling loose from your lips.

“Payne’s back.” Jack answered in a low whisper, his lips brushing up against your ear as he covered his lips with the side of his hand from everyone else, not allowing the rest of them to be aware of the amount of danger they were currently in.

“Shit…” You thought to yourself with a heavy sigh before reaching one of your hands up to ruffle your fingers through the strands of your hair as the stress rapidly built up in your mind.

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this. I promise.” He reassured you quietly, followed by a quick and gentle, yet firm squeeze on your hand while your fingers intertwined with his own.

“We need to keep this bus going over 50 miles an hour, no matter what.” Jack announced to the people in the bus, his attention focusing on Sam while he drove the bus and maintained the speed to the best of his ability, even if he wasn’t exactly sure as to why.

Hearing the marching music begin to fade in, John’s gaze flickered up to meet your own, even if it was covered slightly by the mesh of the white veil you were wearing. Lifting the veil up, John would flash you a smile full of warmth and affection; the most emotional smile the man was ever able to muster in his entire life — you could just see it behind his eyes.

“Do you, Mr. Jardani Jovonovich, take Ms. (Y/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife…” The Officiant asked, his attention focusing on John as he stood at the altar, holding onto your hands.

A few months earlier, John was in a much different place mentally. Instead of getting prepared for his wedding with you, he was preparing for his final assassination, the “impossible task”, as Viggo called it. Of course, John was more than willing to perform such a task, if it meant getting to settle down with the love of his life.

“You did well, Jonathan.” Viggo commented to John with his hands held behind his back.

“Thanks,” John replied with a small nod of his head, silently expecting Viggo to add onto his statement.

“I suppose you still want to be released from our organization?”

“Yeah.” He answered firmly, yet he still tried to keep himself level-headed after the adrenaline rush of the mission.

“Well, I wish you and your lover the best life.” Viggo replied to John before turning his back to him, holding his hands behind his own back while he stared out the large window that was just placed just behind the desk. “Be seeing you, Mr. Wick.” He added in a colder voice than before. It was a tone that didn’t go unnoticed by John, but he didn’t care then. At least, not about this “family” he’d been stuck in since his childhood. No, now all that he cared about was the future he was about to lead with you.

In the shower at home, you were luckily not home that day, giving John the perfect chance to wash the blood away from his body. None of it was his blood, though. No, he was washing off the lives he’d ended a mere few hours ago. But, he was used to this feeling — he was used to killing, to seeing the red on his hands and chest after an exhausting mission. 

And now, John tried to make himself focus on the plans he had made for today many months ago — to propose to (y/n), and make you his officially. That ring he got a few weeks ago? It was going to be used for this special day. His heart leaped when he opened up the box to check on the ring, the diamond shimmering brightly in the sunlight that seeped in through the nearby glass windows of the mansion he was now sharing with you. A smile painted itself across John’s lips as a reaction to the thoughts he began to have flooding through his mind of the day that would soon be in his future.

Then, just as he’s lost in thought, John’s head whipped up to the sound of the doorbell ringing, announcing your presence at the front door. Quickly hiding the box away from view, underneath the bed, John sprinted out of the bedroom to greet you at the door. There’s a smile still present on his face as you open the door, immediately welcomed by him wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his embrace and kiss the top of your head.

“Hey, hon.” John greeted you, his voice more cheerful than it normally is.

“Hey…how was your day?” You ask, your voice sounding groggy from working long hours throughout the day.

Catching on to your exhaustion, John gave you a light nod of his head before taking his right hand and gently placing it on the back of your neck, his thumb resting on the side of your jawline. 

"I've been thinking about you," he says with a tone of sincerity laced through his voice while his deep brown eyes were locked onto your own.

"Yeah?" You reply with a hint of playfulness that John quickly caught onto, making him smirk down at you.

"Mm-hmm." John murmurs affirmatively right before leaning in to lock his lips onto yours; they always surprise you with how soft they are every time you feel them. After breaking the kiss, he brought his lips up to brush them against your ear, sending shivers down your entire back. "You go take a shower while I cook you some food, alright?" He offers, yet there was a silent hint that he wasn't going to budge on this.

"Okay." You agree, nodding your head lightly in response to the offer John had just made you.

Lying wounded on the cold ground of the warehouse in which Viggo's enemies operated in, John gasped for breath as he locked eyes with the sky, which was pouring down the same tears he nearly shed at the idea of not standing at the altar with you, not putting that ring on your finger, not marrying YOU. He couldn't bear himself if this is how it all ended. When he noticed he was unable to get up, however, you seemed to have a spiritual hold on him — or, maybe even...a connection? John began to hear his phone ring, prompting him to glance down and take a look until he saw that it was your contact displaying as the number that was calling. At first, John was hesitant to answer. Not because he didn't want to answer your call, it would be far from that. No. Instead, it would be because...he was terrified of what you'd think of him if you were to find out about the truth of his past and what he used to do for his life. But, something clicked inside of John for him to press the green button on the keypad of the cell phone, lifting it up to his ear to hear your voice speaking to him once again.

"Hey, babe. I got dinner ready a few hours ago and you didn't come home, are you okay?" You ask as the line connected, the concern evident in the tone of your voice.

"Long story..." John answered in his own weakened and strained voice. You could immediately discern that something was horrifically wrong.

"Where are you?"

Not a beat was skipped between either of you before you swung your purse over and around your shoulder, jingling your car keys in between the crooks of your fingers. John gives you the address to the warehouse he was in. Of course, the sketch location raised questions in your head, but you knew you couldn't probe him for answers now; not when he's in such a risky position.

"I'll be right there." You say as you swing the front door open and begin to rush out to the driveway until you reach the car that was left.

In a matter of no time, John would soon begin to hear the engine of your car rumbling in the near distance until it was parked a mere few yards away from his limp body. "Oh, John!" You exclaim in concern right before rushing over to where John was leaning against the warehouse wall, the adrenaline immediately beginning to course through your entire being.

"I'm alright, honey." John replied in a soft-toned voice that was only meant to comfort you through the distress he knew he must be putting you through.

"I'm going to get you in the car," you declare in a tone that leaves no room for him to argue with you. But, in that moment, it really seemed as though John had no thoughts of even attempting as such. Taking his arm over your shoulder, (y/n) used your strength to walk John back over to your car to the passenger side. Once he was seated, you quickly pulled the seatbelt over John’s chest and buckled him in right before shutting his side’s door and darting around the car until you were able to get into the driver’s side.

Back at home, you gave John the stitches he needed for the deep gunshot wounds he had when you first got to him. There was a surge of emotions flooding throughout your entire mind, mostly being that of fear and concern for John’s well-being. You couldn’t lose him, not when you still have the chance to save him. Shoving away the questions you may have wanted to ask him, you focus on the task at hand of saving his life.

After you took John’s black tuxedo and white dress-shirt off by sliding them up his arms and chest, revealing two gunshot wounds to his right shoulder and chest, eliciting a gasp out of you.

“Jesus Christ, John.”

“I know, I know…” he attempted to speak up while keeping his voice low and soft-spoken, but you were too panicked to even hear him as you prioritized making every last move count.

“This is the worst I’ve ever seen you.” You continue to mumble to yourself as you attempt to concentrate on the bloody wounds that were penetrated straight through John’s skin.

“(Y/N)—”

“Where the Hell even were you?” You question, quickly followed up by an exasperated sigh with your eyebrows furrowing deeply in frustration. The thought of someone hurting John made your blood boil into pure rage.

“(Y/N), relax.” He finally spoke up, this time at a much louder volume than before to ensure that he got your attention. John would then notice you flinch back slightly, prompting him to reassuringly reach both of his hands up to lightly yet firmly place them on the top of either of your shoulders, his thumb slowly rubbing the exposed skin underneath your crewneck top. “I promise, I’m okay.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” You sigh before reaching your hands back down towards the one gunshot wound you were giving stitches to. John appeared to hardly even flinch the entire time, only raising more questions in your head. But you knew that now was not the time to probe for anything. After you have finished stitching up John’s wounds, you exhale out a deep sigh and rub your forehead with the back of your hand. He could see how exhausted you were after a long day, making him reach his hands out to hold onto your shoulders. Your eyes lock onto each other’s.

“Thank you,” John said. A soft smile curls up across the corners of his lips and he trails one of his hands up from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, prompting you to lean in closer to him. Locking your lips, you and John began to share a searing kiss. It was one of those that made your heartbeat start to speed up against the walls of your chest, one that you would never forget for as long as you shall live 

That’s the moment that John recalled when he snapped back into reality to see you standing in front of him, looking like the most gorgeous bride ever. His eyes sparkled with love and affection, his smile growing warmer right as the Officiant continued on with his speech. The music already faded out and it was all silent on the Western front – only the Officiant spoke, and the audience was also silent, even the babies. “— in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” The Officiant asked while his head was turned in John’s direction, who answered with a light nod of his head in confirmation.

“I do.” John responded to the Officiant, his eyes never once straying away from yours.

“And do you, Ms. (Y/N), take Mr. Jardani Jovonovich to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

The ring bearers then handed the proper ring to the bride and groom, which was then followed by you and John sliding either ring on each other’s ring finger. You both were smiling gleefully at each other while the trade was made between you. “In the power vested in me, I hereby declare you husband and wife.” The Officiant announced with joy radiating through his tone of voice as he took a small step back, allowing you and John to close the distance between the both of you. “You may now kiss the bride.” He said to John, who didn’t waste a second in making your marriage official.

That kiss, it’s like one that you could only ever dream of. It was one that would change either of your lives forever; not like how your first kiss did, no. This kiss was one that would change the course of your relationship for the rest of your lives, officially making the both of you legally married. He was your husband, and you were his wife. And now, you could live happily ever after.