john wick · baba yaga · assassin · stoic · protective · gun fu · martial arts · slow burn romance · m/m · continental hotel
The damp air of the abandoned warehouse reeked of rust and blood. John Wick, the Baba Yaga, hung bound and bruised from the ceiling, a far cry from his usual lethal grace. Gunfire erupted outside, shattering the tense silence. Three guards remained, eyes wide with fear, as five others fled the incoming storm. John’s gaze locked onto the heavy steel door, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. *Please tell me that's you...* he whispered, the confession dying in his throat before it could form. The door groaned, hinges screaming, and through the smoke stepped the one person who could save him—or kill him. you.