Underground Kings

Underground Kings

Part 4 of the “Call Out My Name” series.

WARNINGS: Mentions of smut

Author’s note: we’re back with some fluffy flash back y/n and john :’) i’m thinking of including gifs of young keanu for the flashback scenes just to set the vibe and then a more current john wick gif for the present tense stuff just so you can visualize how much time had passed by between these two. Thanks for all the notes, i appreciate every single one of them, especially feedback! -samantha 🖤

Translations: 1. “Pochemu, mama?” ↠ Why, mother? 2. “Moya dorogaya” ↠ my darling 3. “zvyozdochka” ↠ little star

Warm puffs of air tickled the back of your neck. It was still dark outside. A single candle burned throughout the entirety of your night. The clock on your wall read 2’o clock in the morning. You both still had plenty of time to sleep. The director was not requiring early sessions like usual. You sighed in relief, snuggling back into the body behind you. The warmth of his bare skin insulated through you. You loved these moments with him. Silence. Skin on skin contact. Nothing on your minds besides each other. Your bed was almost like a safe haven to the world of guns and hitmen just outside your room.

“Why’re you awake?” He slurred sleepily.

You shrugged.

“Muscle memory, I guess.” You rasped. “Why are you awake?”

He wrapped his arms tighter around you before kissing your shoulder and leaving his head there.

“Felt you wake up.” He mumbled.

Jardani looked at the clock and pouted.

“I thought I tired you out enough to at least sleep completely through the night,” He chuckled lazily.

You blushed furiously, quickly tossing yourself around to face him. A mischievous, sleepy grin was etched on his handsome face. His warm eyes still hazy and barely opened. His hair tousled.

“Bold of you to assume I’d be getting any sleep period. You’re the one that snuck in here, dumb ass.” You retorted.

“Hey,” He whined. “we got some sleep,”

“Because no one decided to constantly check the hallway like we’re in some juvenile prison or some shit. How do you not get caught sneaking out of you room all the time?” You mumbled, pressing your face into his chest.

“And we were quiet,” He purred, ignoring your question completely. His hands roamed up and down your back. They got lower each time they descended until you felt him grope a handful of your ass.

“Oh my god!” You quietly whined in embarrassment, pulling up the comforter and wrapping it around you head.

He stifled a loud laugh, biting down on his fist as he stared at your adoringly.

“My little babushka,” He cooed, sprinkling your face with kisses. “Don’t be embarrassed, I love the little noises you make.”

You returned the gesture, meshing your mouth with his passionately.

“I want it to be like this forever,” You whispered.

“Me too, baby. Me too,” He moaned, rolling on top of you. You felt his member stiffen against your core.

“Now c’mere, beautiful. We have a couple more hours.”

John took in your appearance and frowned.

“That’s not the shirt you were wearing when you left.” He noted.

You shook your head dismissively.

“Just had a run in.” You stated calmly.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you down to sit on the couch.

“Tell me.” He said calmly, kneeling in front of you to unbuckle the ankle strap on your heels before removing them. You watched him in slight awe, you jaw slack. Having him back was still a shock to your system. That, and because no one had taken care of you for years. Not since him. After John, you sought out no nurturing or affection from anyone besides yourself.

“An old client got handsy. Viktor Ivar.” You stated.

“Eleazar’s son.” He recalled, placing your shoes side by side next to your coffee table.

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I took care of it though.” You assured.

“By...?”

You smiled at him sheepishly.

“I, uh, I shot his dick. Twice. And his hand.”

John rose an eyebrow up at you, an amused expression on his face. He patted your thighs with his hands in praise.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, standing up to gather his coat and blazer.

“As much as I love staying here with you, it’s not safe for you.” He said solemnly.

“Where are you going to go?” You inquired.

“The Bowery King was housing me.” He stated. “If you’re in, he’d like to meet with you.”

“I’ve been in.” You spoke.

The smallest smile appeared on his face. He snapped his fingers at his dog.

“Lets go then.”

You discreetly sought out one of the Bowery King’s men. He provided you safe passage to the underground kingdom until finally, you were face to face with the man himself. He looked like he had gone through hell and back. Bandages that had soaked with blood covered him.

“Athena. It’s always an honor seeing you.” He greeted formally.

“Same to you, my friend. You look horrible.” You joked.

He rolled his eyes and gestured between you amd John.

“How is it that you two know each other?” He asked pointedly.

You and John shared an awkward glance. You have never spoken of your relationship with anyone but each other.

“We were...trained together.” John stated slowly.

The Bowery King shot the both of you a knowing look.

“Whatever you say,” He chuckled. “And the dog? How did you get him back? I was under the impression that Winston had him.”

“He did.”

“I got him back.”

You then began to retell your hunch to the Bowery King and informed him and John of your interection with Winston. John stiffened when you relayed Winston’s message to him.

“I don’t trust him quite yet.” You declared. “For all we know giving the dog back might have been a pawn.”

“I agree. There’s no promise that he’s on our side yet.” John added.

“I got eyes on him.” The King informed.

He looked at you and John seriously.

“Shit’s about to go down. I suggest you get all of your affairs in order before it does.”

John stared down at you empathetically. You gulped and nodded.

“I just have one more person to see.”

Despite it being years since your last visit, stepping inside the Ruska Roma brought all kinds of flashbacks to you. Good and bad. No in between. The goons at the front doors were there to do their usual search, which included attempting to take expensive articles for their own gain.

“The earrings and necklace, ma’am.” The shortest one said smugly.

“These are Dior, fuck off.” You snarked.

The man abruptly stood up only to be shoved back into his chair by the man on the left. He leaned down to whisper something into the tiny man’s ear. The man went pale, his eyes wide as he quickly nodded his head.

“G-go ahead, miss. Enjoy.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes before taking a deep breath and entering the auditorium doors. Your ears were assaulted with classical music as it boomed throughout the building. The director was in her usual seat watching a girl rehearse over, and over, and over again. The same way you used to do. You made your way to her, quietly taking the seat next to her. Neither of you turned to acknowledge the other.

You were the first to speak up.

“You gave him my address.” You said wittingly.

She remained stoic, eyes never leaving the daner in front of her once.

“I did.” She affirmed.

You turned your body to face her, face twisted in confusion.

“Why?” You let out, your voice barely above a whisper. “After years of keeping me away from him, why now?”

She gave you no answer. Just remained still. Her behavior irked you. You felt all of the built up impatience inside you explode.

“Pochemu, mama?!” You said loudly.

“Anya, enough!” She yelled to the dancer.

The girl quickly scurried off the stage away from the director’s wrath. The director finally turned and faced you. Her usual calm exterior slowly faded away.

“You want to know why, moya dorogaya?” She repeated. “Because the decision was no longer in my hands.”

You scoffed in disbelief and anger.

“It was never your choice, it was mine and his!” You argued.

“No, it was not!” She yelled.

You fell into a tense silence. You stared at your hands placed neatly on your lap like the polite, obedient lady you were trained to be. Not knowing how to handle all of the emotions hitting you. Your hands were gripped into a pair of aged ones wrapped in bandages. You looked up at her in worry.

“Do you know what they would have done if they found out about you and Jardani? What they would do to him for sneaking into your room every night? What they would do to you had they known you were copulating in this house?” She stressed.

“They would have punished him severely. They would make you watch him reach the brink of death until they were satisfied, then send you off to be a rich man’s whore!

“Do you see the power you have? You grew up here, in these very walls, being put through the wringer just like everybody else. Now you come back, and everyone bows down at your feet. They kiss the ground you walk on like you’re some deity. They would have taken all of that away from you.”

You grit your teeth bitterly as tears streamed down your face. The director gently cupped your face and patted them away with a handkerchief.

“They would have ruined you. I had to end it before they did.” She whispered. “As much as Jardani said he came here for passage to Casablanca, I know he didn’t. He came back for you.”

You placed your hands on top of hers, running your thumbs over the bandages.

“What did they do to you?” You whimpered.

“Shhh, zvyozdochka. I will be alright.” She assured.

“I’m going to do it. I’m going to make them pay.” You seethed.

“I know you will.” She agreed. “I’ve always known you and him would find your back way back to eachother. I just needed to let destiny take its course.”

When you arrived home John was seated at your couch in your living room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in surprise, your voice still hoarse.

He stared at you with the softest gaze he could manage.

“I figured you could use some company,” He spoke softly.

You took a deep breath as you felt more tears rise to the surface. You looked up at him, mouth open with no words coming out. You felt more exposed than you have ever felt in your entire life. Your vulnerability showcased itself shamelessly.

“Oh, sweetheart. Come here.”

You scurried into his arms without missing a beat. John situated you into his lap, pulling your heels off like he had done earlier in the day before wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of them brought back so many memories. The late nights spent in your old bedroom. Sneaking away from rich businessmen at galas and into his arms for a dance. Rehearsals when he would effortlessly lift you up into the air with the clouds. Memories that had potential.

You wondered what it would be like if he had married you instead, as horrible as it felt to blatantly disregard the late Helen Wick.

You wondered what it would be like to be in her place; waking up next to John every morning, sipping coffee out of his and hers mugs while watching the news.

You wondered if she knew that she held your entire world in her palms.

And when she died, you wondered if John felt what it was like when you lost him. When a part of you died and along with it, the bright young girl with promises.

“How is she?” John asked hesitantly.

“They came for her. For helping you. Stuck a sword right through her hands.”

A solemn silence fell between the both of you.

“I never meant for anyone to get hurt.” He said apologetically.

“I know. I wouldn’t choose this for anyone.” You rasped. “Not even my worst enemy.”

“Things are going to change, Y/N.” John began. “I want you to know that you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to, Jardani.” You said, turning around on his lap to craddle his face.

You stared deeply into his almond eyes.

“We owe it to ourselves to take back what we lost.”

PART 5

Tags: @magdazwolska @mikaneonox @coloursunlimited @introvertedmegalomaniac @kuukigajan