Keanu Reeves/ John Wick one shots

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

John Wick x Reader (A/n-here comes a string of song inspired fics. Sorry not sorry)

"If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied, illuminate the 'no's on their vacancy sign, if there's no one beside when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark."

"You did what?" Y/n screamed, shaking her head in disbelief. Scoffing, she ran her free hand through her hair, the other tightening its grip on her front door. "Fuck John, I knew you were crazy, but not that crazy. Do you know what this means?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," he responded, leaning further into the door frame. "Y/n," John pleaded, tire etching his tone, "Can I please just come in?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, "John, as far as I'm concerned, you ex communicado in ," quickly she glanced at clock that hung in the foyer, "Ten minutes. I let you in, they'll kill me."

John sighed, knowing that just showing up at Y/n's place could put her in danger. But she was his last chance, the only person he could trusted to not put a bullet in his head when he's not looking. Y/n wasn't just his last straw, she was his only straw. "Since when are you afraid of the High Table?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing that John was playing on her defiant streak. If he really wanted in, he should have been playing on her affection for him. Then again, it would be impossible for him to use a card that he didn't know existed. "I'm not," opening the door wider, Y/n stepped back, "Get your dumbass inside before someone sees you."

The minute she and John were hidden in the safety of her house, Y/n locked the door and turned off the porch lights. Turning to him, she walked straight past John her shoulder brushing his arm, "Couldn't you have killed Santino somewhere that wasn't, I don't know, consecrated?"

"He forced my hand," John explained, his voice low and gruff. She felt for him, she really did. And in his postion Y/n might of done the same. But seeing him like this, knowing that there were thousands, maybe millions, of people, just waiting to kill him. Her John, who isn't really hers. It was infuriating. Worrying. "I'm sorry that I brought you into this Y/n," he sighed, hanging his head, not wanting her to see the shame in his eyes. 

Sighing sadly, Y/n approacheed him, lightly squeezing his uninjured shoulder, "Don't be, I might have found a way to get to you anyway. And I meant it when I said that I'd do anything to help." The last time she said those words were just a couple weeks ago, at his wife's funeral. Y/n had stayed back at the house, after everyone else had left, helping him clean up. When she was about to leave, and he had walked her to the door, she had said it, promised him that she'd be there for him, for anything that he needed. Little did Y/n know that less than a month later John would show up bleeding at her doorstep. 

They had known eachother for a while by then. Years actually. And when John was preparing to leave the life to be with Helen, Y/n was barely a woman of twenty, who was deeply, and secretly in love with the man who had helped train her. They had met because John had known her parents, who had been just as involved in a life of crime as he was. They worked for the High Table which meant that Y/n was no stranger to the strict rules and punishments. She knew what could happen if they found her even breathing the same air as him. Yet something about being here with him, knowing that she was all he had made death seem like a small price to pay. She'd do whatever it took or die trying. 

Without warning, John pulled Y/n into a hug that she quickly returned, pressing her face to his chest. She never pegged him as a hugger, but Y/n dare not complain. "Thank you," he breathed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"Don't mention it," Y/n waved him off as she pulled away. "Now try to see if you can sit there without getting blood on my carpet. I'm going to get a first aid kit."