His Words So Sweet
Part 1
Southern Gentleman!John Wick x Trainwreck!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of poor mental health. Not proofread.
(AN: I was inspired to do a John Wick chaptered fic by the amazing works of @johnwickb1tsch and @sweetwolfcupcake !!! Y'all are so freaking talented it's unreal!)
The first time you saw him was in a tiny Get n' Go on the Outskirts of Maryville, Tennessee.
A worn pair of Levi's graced his lower half, and he sported a chestnut leather belt complete with a buckle the size of your fist. A crisp, beige button down with darker pin stripes hugged his body comfortably and a leather jacket the shade if burnt Umber draped itself over his body as if it were a part of him. The last thing you noticed was his cap. Plain charcoal matching the scruff on his face, holding his dark almost black locks to his head.
"Pack of smokes. Marlboro red shorts. And $35 on pump three... say you know where I can get some buckshot round here?" His thick accent hit your ears as he spoke to the clerk, taking out his wallet and grabbing out cash.
You looked down into your own hands as the two men talked about ammo and deer hunting. A two dollar breakfast burrito and a cup the cashier was kind enough to give you for water. You'd eat half now and half for dinner if you weren't already asleep that is.
The man ahead of you peeked back at you before taking out another bill and handing it to the man behind the counter.
"Put it up here, darlin', I got it," he drawled out softly, gesturing to the counter.
You were so embarrassed. You must've looked awful in your stained, grey sweats and ripped oversized band T-Shirt that hung over you like a blanket, coming almost to your knees while this ruggedly handsome stranger was peering at you through deep onyx eyes that made you shiver.
A deep blush dusted your cheeks as you meekly offered the burrito to the clerk so he could scan it.
Normally you'd argue, but your pride had deserted you a long time ago, and you were trying desperately to cling to what little shame you had left. At least you'd still feel human.
"Thank you," you mumbled gratefully as you took your food for the day and exited the small shop.
He was out right behind you and headed to his truck to start pumping his gas.
You stared at the beautiful Cheverolette in awe. It was the color of sparkling champagne and had wheels like a semi with a bed bigger than the one you slept in every night. Well... used to sleep in. You're landlord had recently kicked you out for failure to pay rent.
You were so lost in thought and in your food that you didn't see him come up to you.
"You alright?" He asked you with a tone of genuine concern.
You jumped softly with a small squeak of surprise that made him chuckle softly.
"Look, I know you don't know me at all, but if you need a ride somewhere, I can see if I'm headed that way... young woman such as yourself shouldn't be wanderin' all by your lonesome," he told you, hoping he wasn't coming across as a creep.
He's far too aware of how this situation probably looks and feels to you and the last thing he wants is to make you feel uncomfortable, but at the same time he doesn't feel right just leaving you there to fend for yourself.
You gave him a confused look that signaled to him that you were unsure of his attention and he was trying to figure out a way to put your mind at ease.
"Please don't feel pressured little lady. I just... well, I wanna make sure you're safe."
"I don't have anywhere to go," you admitted as your eyes drifted down to your beat up sketcher knock-offs.
He thought it was really a shame to see a beautiful young woman reduced to a lowly mess. He could still see the beauty underneath it all. You were still in there. The real you. He was certain that you were fun and lively and he was struck with an unshakable urge to pull that out of you. To get to know the you before the world used you as its own personal chew toy.
"Well that's just no good. Can't have you sleeping in the street now can we? Look, I've got a cabin up in Gatlinburg that I'm headed out to... I know it's forward, but there's plenty of room and you can get yourself I nice hot bath. Or if you want I can get you a hotel room on your own if that'll make ya more comfy."
You thought about it for a moment and came to the conclusion that anything was better than sleeping in a back alley somewhere.
"Okay..." you agreed a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. It was so hard to look this man in the face. This beautiful, suave gentleman whose face looked so serious. Whose eyes told a million stories.
Though, he could be a serial killer for all you knew... maybe this was his plan. Look for an easy target that no one will miss then go in for the kill. By this point in your life, you were really too depressed to care. At the very least you'll get a nice, air conditioned truck ride out of it. Maybe a shower.
A kind smile spread across his face and he reached out his hand for you to shake.
"Name's John by the way. John Wick."
You shook his hand with a small smile of your own.
"Y/n. Y/n l/n."
His grin grew wider.
"Very lovely to meet'cha, miss l/n."
You started to wrap up the other half of your burrito when he stopped you.
"Don't bother. We'll stop somewhere and get some real food in ya. Hope you don't mind cigarette smoke either... bad habit."
The ride was nice. John had left the windows down so a nice breeze blew through your hair which felt absolutely amazing as it kissed skin your skin.
You couldn't help but steal small glances at him as he concentrated on the road and took a drag if his cigarette.
He was nice to look at and the smell of the smoke was oddly comforting to you.
He pretended not to notice your eyes scanning his face and lingering over his toned body beneath the nearly sheer button up. It was something he was honestly used to, besides, with you he really didn't mind. It's not like he wouldn't look if he could, but he'd rather not get in a wreck. At least not with you in the truck with him.
His place was a little over an hour out, but you two kept busy with small talk.
You asked him about the guns in his truck bed and he talked to you about hunting. Let you know he won every shooting contest he'd ever been it and even contests for shooting bucks.
You weren't super familiar with hunting... you knew what little you picked up just from living in the south like points for antlers and stuff, but you never got into it. Still, you listened to him talk intently until finally he pulled up into a huge driveway outside a cabin that was the size of a small manor.
It was like something you'd only seen in movies and you really began to wonder what this man did for work.
He opened your door for you and helped you out before guiding you inside.
A warm laugh rumbled in his chest and how wide your eyes were as you admire everything.
"You sure do have a lot of deer heads," you commented as your eyes flicked to every wall in the living room.
"Like I said, I never miss," he told you. "Wait here."
He slipped off briefly, leaving you to wonder around the almost too big living space.
There was an ornate, hand woven native rug and the floor and the couch looked like soft alolstered cashmere and it was just as soft to the touch.
When he came back, he caught you looking at the fireplace and smiled.
"Like it? I can light it up while we eat dinner if you want. Hope ya like deer burgers."
Honestly, you liked anything that wasn't gas station food.
"What are those?" You asked curiously, pointing to the folded up clothes in his hands.
"They're for you. Got 'em for ya so you had somethin' to chsnge into after gettin' cleaned up. Here," he held them out to you. "Sorry if they're a tad big on ya. All I got is men's husky."
You accepted them gratefully and he showed you to one of the three bathrooms down the hall.
"This can be yours if you want. I have my own and that way there won't be any awkwardness."
You stared and the enormous, square tub, dumbfounded. It was the picture of luxury, even for someone more well-to-do than yourself.
"John it's huge!" You exclaimed a but louder than you meant to.
Your excitement at something that was so simple to him warmed his heart to bits.
"Well hopefully it'll do. Startin' on dinner here soon, but take your time. Towels are in that closet over yonder. One more thing. If I'm ever not here it's 'cause I was called to work. You're free to go wherever you like in the house and eat whatever you want. Tomorrow we'll pick you up some new duds," he said before slipping away to the kitchen.
You had to find the strength to tell him thank you somehow. Most men expect a 'thank you' with more than just words for putting a pretty woman up like this. Maybe that's what he wanted... or maybe he was just kind.
Maybe after dinner he'd skin you alive and bury you in his basement floorboards. You really doubted it. Really, you're mind was more focused on what his job could he that he's on call at all hours of the day and night. You thought maybe he was a doctor, then you laughed to yourself. No way that was it.
As you let the tension in your body disappear beneath the hot water and lavender bubbles, those thoughts quickly became just as irrelevant as you felt.
