Fandom One shots and Imagines

Marry Me - John Wick

a/n: based on the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett

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John Wick stepped from his car into the Southern sun and grabbed his suitcoat from the back seat. He slid it on, shrugging it into place. After buttoning two buttons, he tugged at the bottom and ran his hands along it to smooth out any wrinkles.

He turned to look at the white house behind him. The green trim needed painting but otherwise it looked exactly the same as the last time he'd been here. God, what was it now? 10 years? He huffed a humorless laugh at how time seemed to slip away before he even noticed.

He hadn't thought he'd ever be back here then he'd gotten that ivory invitation in the mail with roses embossed around the edges and your name in elegant script. For some reason he thought coming to see the love of his life marry someone else seemed like a good idea. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. It wasn't if he didn't deserve it for what he'd done to you. He knew that. He still wished he was the groom you were walking down the aisle to. He also had a burning curiosity to know how you found him. How you even had the slightest idea of where to look.

As he walked across the freshly mown grass, he slipped one hand into his pocket to play with the ring he'd bought you all those years ago. He'd never given it to you. You didn't even know it existed, but he'd kept it as a reminder just the same.

The two of you had been madly in love. The kind of love that makes you forget about everything else in the world because you're so wrapped up in one another. Then he'd taken a bullet on a job and his vision of the future realigned. What was he doing with you? What would you do when he just didn't come home one day?

It didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that it would better if he left now. If you didn't get any more attached to one another than you already were. So, he told you goodbye and never came home. By the time he'd been gone long enough for you to head to his apartment, it was empty. Not a trace of him remained. And just like that he was gone from your life. He hadn't spoken to you since that day. And as much as he always hoped you'd move on and find happiness with someone else, he'd never intended to witness it. Now that the day was here, he found himself wishing you weren't happy with this guy, as selfish as that may be.

As he moved around the house, his gaze fell on several people he recognized. Family of yours that he'd met on one or more occasions, a couple of friends that were still around. He didn't miss the moment a few of them recognized him as well. The one to greet him however was none other than your father. Fantastic.

"John. I'm surprised to see you here. I hope you don't plan to cause any trouble." His voice was cold, firm, but John hadn't expected anything less. You were the man's baby girl after all.

John kept his hands clasped together in front of him as he offered your dad a nod instead of a handshake. "Mr. Y/L/N. No problems. I was invited."

He scoffed and shook his head. "Of course you were. That girl." He turned and walked off without another word.

The assassin clenched his teeth together and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Your father and he had never gotten along. Time and circumstance certainly hadn't improved matters. John got lost in thought. Several minutes later, someone patted his arm and he glanced over to find Emmett, your grandfather.

John had always liked the old man and grinned wide. "Good to see you, Emmett."

The man grunted and offered John a flask. "You look like you need this almost as much as me."

John chuckled and took a drink before passing it back. The smooth whiskey warmed his throat and he wondered if he should have had a couple of drinks before he came. "You doing the service?"