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

***

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?"

"Only because she begged me. Never have been able to tell that girl no," he grumbled.

John's lips curled into a smile. "I remember. I always imagined you'd be happier to officiate her wedding."

His dark eyes darted over and looked John over from top to bottom. "Not this one. He's no good this one."

He straightened immediately, his posture switching to attack mode. After a glance around to make certain they wouldn't be overheard, John leaned toward the man he'd once considered a friend. "What are you talking about, Emmett?"

He took another drink from his flask before pursing his lips as he twisted the lid back on. "Whatever secret you're hiding, she's known about it for a long time."

John's brow furrowed at the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"Walk with me." It was an order, not an invitation and John dutifully followed along as your grandfather started walking the property. Only once they were well away from the others, did he start speaking again. "She was never mad about you leaving. Sad, sure, but for some reason she never really blamed you. And she never stopped waiting for you."

John wasn't sure if he felt happy or guilty. That had never been what he wanted. He'd intended for you to forget about him and move on. "Well, she obviously did eventually."

Emmett huffed a laugh. "I wouldn't bet on it."

"You said this guy was no good. What did you mean by that, Emmett?" John's stomach churned at all of the possibilities. "Does he hit her?"

"Not that I know of, but he is a grade A asshole." The old man stopped walking and turned to face John with a sigh. "Jacob fucked up."

Jacob was your older brother and John had never particularly cared for him. He hated the way your parents favored him over you even more. He was a prick and certainly didn't deserve the preferential treatment. John clenched his teeth together. "What does Jacob have to do with Y/N getting married?"

Emmett took another long drink then passed the flask to John who followed suit. "He started gambling. None of us knew. Before long he owed some very bad people a lot of money. I told Richard and Patty to let him face the consequences but they weren't about to let anything happen to their precious boy. They liquidated everything, including Y/N's college fund. And they took out a mortgage on the farm."

"Jesus." The farm had been in your family for four generations and had been debt free for decades. It was a point of pride with Emmett. And John knew for a fact that you'd put most of the money in that college fund even if it had been in your parents' names.

"Craig has been after Y/N since middle school, but she only had eyes for you. Even when you moved off." Emmett looked away, no longer able to meet the eye of the man beside him. "They were going to lose the farm. Craig offered to pay off the loan if Y/N married him."

John said nothing, afraid if he opened his mouth a tirade would pour out. He didn't who he was angriest with: the asshole that was trying to buy you, your brother, your parents, or you. If you could find him to send that fucking invitation, you could have found him to ask for help. To tell him what the fuck was going on and ask him to get you the hell out of here. His hand clenched at his sides.

"Where is she?" he finally bit out.

Emmett gave a small smile. "Her old room. I'll stay lost for a bit. They can't have a ceremony without the minister."

John nodded once and stormed toward the house, people hurrying out of his way when they saw him. This was a John Wick that was seldom seen. This wasn't the cool, collected killer that executed his job with precision, that adjusted to unforeseen circumstances with barely a thought. No, he was angry. Furious. And god help anyone that got in his way.

Once he entered the house and was recognized, he had a few people try to stop him. He ignored them all. That was until he reached to open the door to your room.

"John Wick? What the fuck are you doing here?"

The assassin turned his head and looked over his shoulder to find Craig Wilkinson scowling at him with his arms crossed over his chest. John's tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "You should leave."

Craig's arms fell to his sides. "Excuse me? Who the fuck—"

John interrupted him with a fist to his face, knocking the ass out. He didn't hesitate to turn and open the door to your bedroom. Your mother was fussing with your veil while two of your friends looked on. His gaze immediately locked on you, unable to look anywhere else. You were stunning. Even more so than the last time he'd seen you. And it had nothing to do with the dress you were wearing. You were just...more. And when your eyes found him and the pain in them gave way to joy and love, he thought that might be the sexiest damn thing he'd ever seen. "Out," he ordered.

"Oh, no. Don't think you're coming in here and ruining—" your mother started and you placed your hand over her mouth to silence her.

"Leave, mother. I'll just be a moment." Your voice hit him like a Mack truck. It was the sweetest sound he'd heard in nearly ten years.

When everyone else had gone, he stepped fully into the room and shut the door behind him. His eyes kept moving over you as if he stopped looking you might disappear on him like he had on you. He licked his lips again. "You're not marrying him."

Your lips curled just a little and your gaze softened. "Okay."

He stepped forward and reached down to slid your engagement ring off your finger. "And you're not wearing that."

"All right."

He dropped the ring to the floor and pulled the one from his pocket to replace it. "You're going to wear this one, and you're going to marry me."

And the smile that covered your face matched the one that covered his. "Took you long enough. I've been waiting."

His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it. "Yeah. Sorry about that." Then he leaned forward and smashed his lips into yours.