Keanu Reeves/John Wick x Reader One-Shots

Getaway Driver (John Wick x Reader)

After months and months of begging John to take the mustang out for a spin on the strip he had finally given in. It had taken more than a few puppy dog stares, favors, and a few favors that scratched a particular itch. You decided to ask again as you were cuddled up in John's arms, waking up from an afternoon nap. You thought he'd shrug it off, but this time he had finally given in, a deep sigh reverberating through his chest as he let out a simple, "Fine." You had practically jumped out of bed when he said yes, your eyes twinkling and your smile wide as you rushed to get ready. John groaned and rolled over, "Do we have to go right now, (Y/N)?" He grumbled.

You jumped back in bed, peppering kisses down his face and neck. "Yes, John! I've been waiting for this for months!" You said, letting your excitement out.

~

Your fingers tightened on the steering wheel as you turned the car sharply, sending the car into a drift. You giggled and let out a joyful cheer, the sound of the tires squealing on the pavement, the wind whipping your hair behind you and the pure adrenaline rush of feeling the car spin out behind you. You pulled this maneuver a few more times, each time getting a little better at the technique and falling more in love with the feeling of John's custom clutch under your fingers.

John watched you intently, the way you almost masterfully maneuvered his favorite vehicle. He drove you wild in more ways than one. The way you gripped the clutch with so much power despite how delicate your hands were, they were soft and small. The way your face lit up with joy made him nostalgic as he remembered his first time driving like this. He also felt pride bubbling up in his chest as you were such a natural, he was truly blessed.

You had slowly brought the car to a stop and looked to John, eager to see his reaction to your driving. You saw a gentle smile tugging at his usually stoic face, and he brought his hand to rest on your thigh. "You're a natural." He said, his deep voice filling the cabin.

You felt your face flush a bit, "Really?" You inquired, rubbing your thumb gently over his hand.

"Yeah." He replied, leaning over and kissing you gently.

~

It had been about a month since then, you were relaxing at home, watching TV while John was at work. He told you bits and pieces about his occupation, you never pressed it, understanding he needed his privacy and it was a dangerous position. You heard your phone ring, and saw it was John. You picked up, hearing his slightly panicked voice ring through.

This deeply frightened you, John was a hard person to get frightened, even in dangerous situations so something was really wrong. "(Y/N). I need you to pick me up." He said, his breathing was heavy and you heard his grunt in pain.

You immediately threw on your nearest pit of shoes and bolted to the garage where the gorgeous Mustang sat. "Of course honey, where are you?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady but you couldn't help but let a tinge of fear seep in.

John described his location and you flew into action, swiftly reversing and speeding off to John's location, "John?" You called out in a shaky voice, trying to see if he was still on the line.

Your breath hitched as you heard the line go dead, your eyes focused on the road as your foot hammered on the gas and you shot forward, going as fast as you could towards John. Your mind was racing as you thought of all the possible things that could've happened, you knew John wanted to keep you separate from that part of your life, so this was out of the ordinary.

As you floored it past other cars on the highway expertly maneuvering between lanes, you pulled up onto a bustling New York street outside the Continental Hotel. You gasped as you began to see trails of blood leading from the steps into a back alley, you quickly hopped out of the car and rushed as fast as you could, following the trail.

"John? John!" You called out, looking about frantically. You heard a small moan from the back of the alley, where John was sprawled out over a garbage bin, his eyes were clothed and he was caked with blood and dirt, and... sand? You rushed forward, seeing the shallow rise and fall of his chest was comforting. He looked like he should be dead, there was a large gash across his forehead and nose, and two large wounds in his abdomen and one in his shoulder.

You started hyperventilating, touching his face gently. "John? Baby?" You muttered, almost to yourself. He was out cold, probably from loss of blood. You knew he needed medical attention now. In a rush of adrenaline, you lifted John out of the dumpster as gingerly as you could, and hauled him to the Mustang, laying him in the passenger seat before speeding to the drivers side and throwing the car into gear as you peeled out of the spot. You wracked your brain trying to remember what John told you to do in situations like this, you knew he couldn't go to hospitals because of his occupation. You alternated your right hand between keeping pressure on John's wound and shifting gears.

~

It had been a few hours now, you had gotten him to the doctor and you had helped the soft spoken Asian man stitch up and stabilize John's wounds. You had calmed down a bit, now that he was in safe hands. He was resting on a couch, still asleep, you were sitting on the floor, softly stroking his hand and his forearm as you leaned onto his uninjured shoulder. You had finally calmed down, seeing John sleeping peacefully, covered in bandages and sutured up.

John stirred under you, leaning down a bit to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. "God, you're a wonderful getaway driver." His said softly, stroking your hair with his offhand. You smiled up at him. You were so happy he was safe, and now you'd make it a point to drive the Mustang much more often.