#Keanu reeves fanfiction

[greenmanalishi]

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

TW: NSFW, angst, possessive language, verbal violence, BDSM mention

In nothing but a towel, Ludlow strides to answer the door. You, still naked, shriek and run for the bedroom, certain there’s about to be a bit of a fucking disturbance.

“Morning, Dr. Bitch! Didn’t know you made housecalls?” Tom’s pseudo-jovial tone is nothing less than gloating. 

You stumble back out of the bedroom, at least covered by your threadbare blue paisley robe, to find Dr. Julian Mercer on your threshold bearing a massive bouquet of deep red lilies. The tension between the two men is palpable as an electrical storm, and a lump of dread lodges in your throat. The last thing you want is these two getting into a fight.

When Julian turns his sharp gaze to you, you can’t help but feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Gone is the sweet, caring doctor, something entirely more primal in his place. This is a man who perceives an interloper has touched what’s his.

“I see I’ve come at a bad time,” he says, a flash of his bottom teeth visible as he clenches his jaw.

“Nah. We were just having some breakfast. Want to join us?”

Julian takes in the remnants of the pancakes on the table, as though he can almost see exactly what you two had been up to. Well…your disheveled, half-dressed state probably said enough on its own. 

Instead of answering Tom, Julian’s eyes roll up from the messy table and lock onto your own. “Did you fuck him?” 

You are completely taken aback by the invasive, growled question, suddenly nervous and shifting on your feet. For a moment, with Julian’s intense gaze trained on you, you forget that Tom is between the two of you and that you’re safe. But, if Tom wasn’t here…you shiver at the prospect. 

Julian looks like he’s going to go full Jason Vorhees on your ass. You open your mouth to speak, but Tom cuts you off. “Don’t think that’s any of your business, Dr. Bitch, but if you must know..” 

“Tom,” you say quietly, encouraging him to shut the fuck up and stay out of this. 

Instead of pouncing across the room and sinking his teeth into your carotid, Julian sighs, his face drooping just like the sad flowers at his side, and shakes his head. “I understand.” 

Why do you always end up feeling like an asshole at the end of these debacles? Maybe it’s because you are the asshole. By the way Julian looks right now, it certainly seems like it. 

“Oh, poor thing.” Tom rubs salt in the wound. “Cry me a river.” He turns to you. “Are you really gonna fall for this crap?” 

“Tom…” You try again, but it falls on deaf ears.

“There, there, Dr. Bitch Boy, you’ll surely find someone else who is dumb enough to let you tie them up and hurt them. Consensually! Mustn’t forget the fine fucking print…” 

“You know,” Julian says, twirling the bouquet stem in his long fingers, dripping dew on the doorstep. “It’s a safe, rewarding practice between two mature adults. But, I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, Officer Ludlow.” 

Tom chuckles. “Oh, wouldn’t I? Some of us can tie a woman up and make her scream without inflicting pain.” 

Julian looks, immediately, to your wrists, where sure enough there are still discolored leather marks marring your skin. He stares at you like you just kicked his puppy except the puppy is actually him. You wish you could be a bitch for once and not care, but you’re just a softy like always, staring back with what you hope reads as an apology written on your face. 

Julian looks back at Tom, expression changing drastically into something dark. “There are marks on her pretty skin.” 

“Uh huh,” Tom agrees. 

Julian, the fucking idiot, steps up to Tom, and you instinctually nudge yourself between them. You know how this ends, although you’ve never been on the receiving end of a testosterone tug of war; you’ve seen plenty of friends and relatives go through it. You put a spread palm on Julian’s chest, and look up at him. “Julian..” 

You can feel Tom’s wayward grin behind you. 

“You should be careful, y/n. This ogre is going to hurt you. You should stick with someone who actually knows what he’s doing.”

“I think we did just fine,” snipes Tom. “And we’re going to do it again too! Thanks for stopping by!” That is when Tom bodily lifts you out of the way to slam the door in Julian’s face.

A second later you hear your poor neighbor peeking out. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s just fine, ma’am, so sorry,” you hear Julian answer. “Here. I want you to have these.”

In your mind’s eye, you can just see Julian, chivalrous and well mannered, handing Mrs. Thompson the beautiful bouquet.

“Oh! What a nice young man you are!”

If only Mrs. Thompson knew. 

“Tom, I’d rather not have Julian know about this…” you gesture between the two of you. 

He leans on the doorframe, probably to shut off your rational brain again because that’s what happens, and cocks his eyebrow. “You’re just planning on keeping me a dirty little secret?” 

“What? No. That’s not what I mean. I just don’t want him to know the details.” You cross your arms over your chest without really meaning to, and you know he picks up on the hostility. “Jesus, you just like, shouted everything right down the hall.”

You look at your wrists, the faint red marks. You can’t help but think on what Tom said with such taunting venom. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, head tilting. “No.” 

“You said..” you take a minute to collect yourself. “You said that he would have to find someone else dumb enough to let him tie them up.” 

Tom skips right past your point, eyes narrowing. “You let him tie you up?” 

“Once? Sort of? But he freaked me out, so I asked him to stop. And he did.”

The look on Tom’s face is pure fury. “That little fucker could have done anything to you!”

The fact that Tom seems to think you are incapable of taking care of yourself only adds gas to your own burner.

“Look. I know you don’t like him, but he’s not a criminal because of what he likes, ok? Something…happened to him. He can’t fucking help it.”

“Yeah, I bet. Baby, I see this all the time in my job. These assholes are master manipulators, and they always have a fucking excuse. Oh my nanny touched me so I do terrible things. Bad shit happens to all of us. It doesn’t give anyone a fucking pass to hurt other people. You are so sweet and pretty and good…God. You are just the sort of soft little treat these guys live to gobble up.”

“I’m not a child, Tom. I obviously know there are bad men.” You’d certainly met your fair share of them. “You’re treating me like I’m an idiot. Julian stopped when I asked him too.” 

“And what if he doesn’t the next time? What if he keeps going? What if he hurts you?” He sounds like all those things would affect him more than they would you. 

Your knee jerk response spills from your lips before you can even think about it. “I don’t need you to protect me.” Even if this is exactly what you want, what you’ve always wanted, deep down. 

“Well that’s too bad, sweetheart, because I’m gonna. I’m not going to let anyone ever hurt you.” It’s not fair, the flood of warmth this inspires. From your head to your toes, and it feels so good you know you can’t trust it. Because when he inevitably breaks this promise, like all men do–it will destroy you. 

The moment shatters slightly when he can’t help but add, “Especially not Doctor Dumbass. What do you even see in him?” 

A part of you is so annoyed you’re even having this conversation, you can’t help but needle him. “Tall, handsome, single doctor who actually has manners. Silly me.” 

By the way Tom’s eyes narrow, you know the arrow hit home–and you kind of hate yourself for it. “It’s all a mask, honey. I’ve seen it a hundred times before. It’s a mistake to trust that guy.”

For a moment it jars you, that Tom is basically implying you’re going to sleep with him and Julian at the same time and potentially hurt them both, which means he thinks that lowly of you—he’s also saying, again, that you are too dumb to see through Julian’s “mask”. It makes anger flare inside of you, hot and bright. “Then I guess that's my mistake to live with.”  

You don’t really notice he’s inching toward you until you have to crane your neck a little bit to look up at him. The message in his dark eyes reads consuming, angry, possessive. A thrill perks every hair on your body. “Then I guess I’ll just have to convince you not to make mistakes.” 

“And how are you going to do that?” You ask, rolling your eyes, more than a little annoyed at this overt sideshow of the ol masculine who’s dick is bigger. 

He tucks a loc of hair behind your ear. “By fucking you so often you forget Dr. Bitch exists.” 

You don’t absolutely hate the sound of that, too-empty cunt giving a painful throb, toes scrunching up as that wickedly warm sensation travels from face, clavicle, chest, and then down your entire body, soaking you in lust. In this moment, you remember why you can’t fucking stand Tom Ludlow: because he is everything you need, everything you want, all wrapped up in a tall, laviscious package delivered right at your doorstep. 

A part of you wants to tell him that you don’t want anyone else but him–and a part of you would literally rather die than hand him your heart on a platter like that.

Worse yet, you’re afraid he can practically see the conflict warring in you. He sees too much, with those hawk-sharp obsidian orbs, cutting into you without mercy. He moves closer still, caging you against the wall with his corded arms on either side of you, his muscled torso that may as well be a brick wall, for all the luck you would have pushing past it. “How many times I gotta tell you, baby?” he says, his voice low, steel cased in velvet. “That I want you to be mine?”

He should be menacing, but this beast of a man leaning over you just fills you with need. You don’t know where you get the courage or the cheek to answer, except maybe it’s your lady parts finally getting their say, “You like to talk a lot, Tom Ludlow. Maybe you’d better show me?”  

He drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling at your feet, looking up almost reverently like you’re some sort of diamond encrusted statue of his chosen faith. He listens so well, silent as a mime, pressing his face into the thin robe over your rib cage, nuzzling and inhaling. Taking you in as if he means to memorize the smell of you. 

Deft fingers unwrap the tie at your waist, and he presses the lapels of your robe open with flat palms, guiding his warm skin along your own—the tender, soft stretch of your stomach. You shiver pleasantly when his grip lands to cup the curve of your waist and he kisses your bare skin, soft and wet and sigh worthy. 

Suddenly all you want in the world, is to lay this man out in your bed, and maybe never leave it. Why did Julian have to pop your perfect little bubble you’d so happily been in together? You try to move, wanting to take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, but he pins you against the wall with one of those big hands over your belly. 

“Tom…”

You kind of hate this, in the light of day, how he can still turn you into a needy, whiny bundle of nerves and weakened flesh, with zero self-respect. Every inch of your treacherous skin sings out that you do belong to him.  

“I know, sweetheart,” he says against the dip of your hip, and somehow this does soothe you. “But I’m about to get to the best part…” He tickles the curls of your mound with the tip of his nose, before nuzzling in to lick your aching slit. Your knees nearly buckle; if not for his strong hands on you, you absolutely would have melted into a puddle on the floor. 

“Fuck. Wait…”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles against you, tasting you again. “Take it like a good girl, y/n. I didn’t get to finish my breakfast.” 

He savors your taste for only a moment before becoming the man starved, pressing his face into the valley of your cunt and drinking from you like you’re the last spring of water in a dry desert. He pins you to the wall with bruising force as you and your pussy sob on his mouth, holding your lower half steady, lifting you almost off your toes, while your upper half claws and thrashes and pulls and probably leaves ugly marks in his tawny skin.

You try to say something, but it comes out as gibberish, a jumble of yesyesnonopleasejesusfuck. Too quickly, you near that release of clenched muscle, the symphony of your undoing, and he needs to slow down or—

He latches onto your clit with his mouth and sucks, tearing something more than an orgasm out of you. Something that makes you see crackling black stars, makes drool run down your face, makes a scream that will remind your neighbor of night terrors. 

Your legs do give out, but it doesn’t matter, because he lifts you in his arms and impales you against the wall, just in time to catch the last fluttering spasms of your release. He gives you no chance to recover, thrusting into you with his mouth latched to yours, devouring you with furious kisses and ruining you with his unrelenting cock. He does not stop until you cum again, almost against your will, or at least, in spite of yourself. It is as though he knows things about your body that you never fathomed possible on your own, knows just how to angle his hips to hit your gspot every single time. You’ve never been able to cum with just penetration alone, but his girth and curve and wicked skill combined make his cock a forceful weapon built for your cunt’s destruction. 

You cling to his broad shoulders like a limpet as he carries you into your bohemian nest of a bedroom, falling down amongst the colorful pillows, still inside you. Here on the soft mattress he takes you slowly, looking into your eyes and every time you try to close them, desperate for some reprieve from the intensity of it all, he demands your full attention again with his big hand on the side of your face. “I want you to know exactly who’s fucking you so good,” he tells you without a shred of humility, hooking your leg over his hip with a hand on your thigh, so that he can go even deeper. 

“As if I could forget,” you pant, the first real sentence you’ve managed since the start of this maelstrom. 

This makes him smile down at you, though there is a sharp edge to it. “Good. Because you’re mine now, baby girl. Don’t you ever forget it.” He does not even think about pursuing his own release until you’ve given it up one more time, with his filthy mouth working magic on your nipples and his hand between your legs plucking at you clit while he fills you. Only once you cum on his cock again does he let himself go right with you, and you see how close to the edge the entire time he’d been. 

Breathless in the afterglow, you lay in his arms as he traces the curve of your shoulder with his fingertips, lifting the fine hairs all over your body. It makes you shudder against him for the umpteenth time, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. The divot in his shoulder, that feels like it was made just for you. He smiles down at you, smug, yet somehow also soft, his lips on your forehead making a slow warmth lick through you from head to toe. 

“You’re tickling me,” you teasingly complain as he makes the gooseflesh rise again. 

“Just you wait.”

JesusfuckingchristIcannoteven…

Maybe you say it aloud, because he rolls over you with a wolfish smile, sweeping your hair out of your face as he sits up over you on his elbows. “Tom…” you pant, worried that he, in fact, is going to rock your world all over again. You don’t think you’ll survive it.

“I wear you out, sweet girl?”

You giggle underneath him, hooking your leg over his. “For now.”

“Good.” Again, that warm smile that makes you feel like you have fireworks lighting off through your veins. “You gonna think about me tonight?”

You wonder if he’s worried about you going to work–with Julian.

“Every time I try to sit down.” He loves this answer, his smile widening to an all out toothsome grin. Men. 

You don’t even know how you’re going to make it through your shift, because you’re fairly sure you’re never going to walk right again. 

He kisses you in one of those sloppy, wet, noisy, toe cramping kisses that he loves to give, and then lays his sweaty head on your chest. “What was Kansas like?” 

You giggle, running your fingers through his short, damp hair, loving the little shiver that you get from the feel of his strands on your sensitive fingertips. “Lots of farm fields and more cows than people.” 

He shakes you with his laugh. “And? Anything you liked about it?”  

You think back for a moment, to all the painful bruised memories of your childhood. “Our neighbor had a sunflower field. They were beautiful. We loved to climb her fence and run through it in the evening, get lost in the wonderful earthy smell.” You close your eyes, remember your sister's rare happy faces, remember falling in a giggling heap when you’d crash into each other, blinded by the tall maze of thick stems. 

He smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, y/n.”

“Ah, that’s not true,” you tease. “There are a million other me’s.” 

His fingers dig into your side momentarily without warning, making you squeal and writhe. “Are they ticklish, though?” He muses.

“Stop it.” You bring his hand to your mouth and kiss his palm. “I have to take a shower.” 

“What a coincidence, me too.”

“Are you going to behave yourself?” You ask him, grinning at the faux innocence in his eyes. 

“Scout’s honor.” 

You’re very right about the whole ‘not walking the same’ thing. Tom insists he has to carry you into the bathroom for your safety because of how wobbly you are when you stand. It fills you with rejuvenated heat, the way he lifts you like you’re a small, precious thing and lays a juicy kiss on your forehead. 

“Bath or shower?” He asks, turning on your tap while you lean on the sink. “Probably shower, right? Fucking like rabbits on top of a bath is a recipe for disaster.” 

“Are you trying to impress me?” You ask him, unashamed of your eyes being consistently glued to the bare, lean muscles of his back and ass. You are only half talking about his knowledge of female hygiene. 

“A little.” 

“It’s working.” 

“Goody.” He grins at you over his shoulder, testing the water on his wrist as if he’s about to bathe a skittish cat. “I think I have it at a temp you’ll like.” 

He leads you into the shower with a steady arm around your waist, making sure that you step in and out without faltering, tugging you firmly against him while the warm water heats your conjoined bodies. He’s half hard again, pressed against your back, and it makes you giggle. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even think my teenage boyfriend had this much stamina.”

“Your teenage boyfriend ain’t got nothin on me,” he teases, kissing your temple. 

“No, Sam certainly doesn’t hold a candle to you, Tom.” 

He insists on washing your hair for you, and his big fingers are absolute heaven for the scalp. You even groan a few times in pleasure as he massages and lathers. “That is cosmic,” you tell him, resting your weight on his chest. Once again, you wonder what would inspire any woman to cheat on this delectable man behind you. 

“Want me to do the rest?” He asks while he smooths the soapy water out of your ends. 

“You first,” you tell him, maneuvering around so that you can wash him. 

“How can I refuse?” He asks, leaning down to kiss you. 

You grab a couple pumps of your sensitive skin body wash, not wanting him to break out in case of allergies, and start on his chest. You haven’t really gotten a chance to feel his body, yet. Sure, you’ve seen enough to last you many nights and then some, but touching is a different story; he’s planes of mahogany, slick, rocky lake floor, one long sensory buffet for your fingers to touch and squeeze and rub. 

His hands on each side of your waist tighten as you get lower, and once you’re at his hips his cock is standing hard and proud. You can’t help but grip the length in your fist and get him nice and lathered, tease him with soft touches that make his breath hitch and heighten. “Does that feel good?” You ask him, staring up through your eyelashes at his heady expression. 

“Amazing,” he grits, cock pumping into your hand a little bit of its own accord. “Think it’s my turn, though.” 

Terrorize Tom Ludlow, expect to get it back times ten. That’s what you’re starting to learn as he runs frictionless fingers over your nipples, makes you twitch and squirm and whine. The soapy lather adds an extra sensation to his touch, something that has you needy and wanting again in no time at all. You arch against him when he follows the path of running water down your stomach, over the mound of your cunt. “Does that feel good?” He mimics, grinning against your soaked hairline. 

“Fuuuck,” is all you can answer at the moment, your every nerve ending a slave to his hands. This man is going to be the death of you.  

“Your filthy fucking mouth,” he teases, and you can feel him grinning against you, the imp of satan that he is. It’s completely not fair, and you reach for him again, pumping him in time to his magical fingers sliding against your slit. 

“Oh,” he groans, bracing himself against the wall, caging you in, and you feel some satisfaction that at least you are not the only one going to pieces again. He catches your mouth in a sultry wet kiss, his thick fingers circling your clit. He’s slowing down, and you make a sound like an angry kitten against his lips. 

“What’s wrong baby?”

“You…are an evil man.”

“Me?” He is still grinning, but it's strained at the edges now. 

“Diabolical.”

“Mmm.”

“A menace.” 

He laughs, a grating sound that ends in another moan as you stroke his impressive length from root to tip, his girth utterly filling your hand, circling the contours of his glans with your thumb. You’re not sure if it’s really ten inches–all you know that he is your perfect fit. However, a part of you is grateful you’re not doing that right now–even just hands is almost more than you can stand. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, his forehead pressed to the top of your head as you touch each other in rhythm. He’s sped up to meet you again, almost as though he can’t help but move in time with you, the way you both seem to have a knack for finding the right timing together. There is something special in that, you know. Something cosmic, something terrifying if you think about it too much. So you’re not going to think about it now. You’re just going to feel, and let this man have his way with you for the umpteenth time in the past twenty four hours. You really have lost track. 

“I need you to cum for me, beautiful,” he says—not want, but need. Needs you to cum for him. Like he needs to breathe air and eat food and wear sunscreen. 

Both of you falter a little, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but it doesn’t matter because even the simplest touch, stroke, rub has you both spasming in the other’s hand. He spills over your belly, and the water washes it off your skin in pearly rills. You collapse against him, smiling, chafed and sore and aching but never happier. “Wait,” you say quietly. “Thought you said you’d behave? Scouts honor?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t in the Boy Scouts.” 

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tag list: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @eclecticwildflowers

Warnings: swearing maybe but it’s really fluffy

“Heading to work?” John asked as I came outside. I smiled over at him as I pet our dog.

“Yeah. Short day today. They called me in for something but didn’t elaborate.” I shrugged as I walked over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Sounds good.” He hugged me tightly. “Want me to pick something up for dinner?” I shook my head.

“I got it. Just text me what you have a taste for later.” John smirked and I pushed his chest. “Johnathan! You perv!” I laughed. John started laughing along with me.

“You love me though.” I nodded as I cupped his cheeks.

“you know I do.” I pulled him close and kissed him. John hummed against my lips before the dog bumped into his leg.

“alright. Alright. Here. Go get it.” John laughed as he pulled away to throw the ball again. “Have a good day at work. I’ll get some stuff done around here. Maybe call out arelio to look at the car.” I nodded as I broke away from him to get into the mustang.

“by the way,” I smiled up at him. “Thanks for trusting me with your baby.” John smiled at me before waving as I drove off. I preoccupied myself with texting John to make the day go by faster. When I finished, I drove over to get the pizza John ordered. Pulling into the driveway, I was glad to see the light on in the kitchen. “John! I’ve got pizza!” I called as I walked in the house.

“In here!” He called back. I made my way into the living room and put the pizza on the coffee table before taking off my shoes. I wandered into the kitchen to grab something to drink and plates. John already had the plates and smiled at me. I froze in the doorway.

“Johnathan!l I exclaimed as I took him in. “What did you do?” John put the plates on the counter and walked over. He put his hands on my hips and leaned in to kiss me. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“hey.” He whined. I shook my head as I ran my fingertips over his cheek.

“what did you do?” I murmured. John smiled and captured my hand, turning to kiss it.

“you don’t like it?” He asked, his smiled falling a little.

“I never said I didn’t. It’s just,” my eyes roamed over his face. “Strange. You’ve had a beard for as long as I’ve known you. You can’t just shave and expect me to not be surprised by it.” John laughed as he kissed my hand again.

“But it’s a good surprise right?” I nodded as I finally let him kiss me.

“yeah.” I agreed, cupping his cheek. “I miss the stubble though.” I smirked at him. John kissed me again.

“it’ll grow back.” He promised. Taking my head, he led me back to the living room. “Now come on. Before it gets cold.”

[fics-not-tragedies]

January 2024 Music Prompts: Day 1

Own My Mind ♫ Måneskin

Own My Mind ♫ Måneskin x John Constantine

I'm prayin' at your altar if you know what I mean.

One moonlit evening, Constantine found himself in the centre of a web of dark magic. A malevolent force, whose origins were hidden in the whispers of the underworld, had unleashed a demonic presence on the unsuspecting city. The streets echoed with the eerie laughter of the creatures that lurked in the shadows.

Amidst the chaos, Constantine discovered an ancient altar, its malevolence penetrating the very foundations of the city. The air crackled with malevolent energy as he confronted the demonic force that sought to devour the soul of the metropolis.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Constantine murmured, a defiant challenge to the malevolent entity that lurked in the supernatural realms.

As he recited ancient incantations and wielded a weapon forged from celestial steel, Constantine sensed a mysterious presence — an ethereal force drawn to the fervour of his quest. Unseen eyes watched him from the shadows, mesmerised by the determination and courage emanating from the demon hunter.

With each incantation, Constantine's surroundings seemed to quake with an otherworldly energy. The demonic laughter died away and was replaced by an eerie silence, as if the air held its breath in anticipation of the impending clash between light and shadow.

At the heart of the spiritual battlefield, Constantine's gaze caught sight of a figure cloaked in shadow — a ghostly presence lingering at the edge of the supernatural fray. The being, drawn by the resonance of the demon hunter's fervent prayers, watched him with an intensity that reflected a strange fascination.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Constantine repeated, the words a rhythmic chant that reverberated through the metaphysical realms.

As the incantations intensified, the shadows parted, revealing the ghostly entity that had been drawn to Constantine's request. A subtle change occurred — a dance of cosmic energies that blurred the line between hunter and hunted.

Constantine, his senses attuned to the supernatural currents, met the enigmatic gaze of the spectral being. The air quivered with unspoken understanding — a connection that transcended the dichotomy of good and evil. In that suspended moment, the demon hunter and the spectral being found themselves connected by a cosmic thread woven from the essence of the mystical battlefield.

The demon, sensing the shift in the balance of power, backed away from the combined force opposing it. The city, once caught in the clutches of evil, heaved a sigh of relief as the supernatural storm subsided. Constantine took one last look at the ghostly creature with a weary but victorious expression on his face.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" he uttered once more, this time directed at the enigmatic presence that hovered in the aftermath of the battle. “And tell boss Constantine said ‘hi’, you fuck” Constantine added, showing a middle finger to the dark forces who lurked around him.

The city, freed from the clutches of demonic influence, attained a new serenity. Constantine, the demon hunter, and the spectral being, an enigma woven into the fabric of the supernatural, shared a moment of unity — a testament to the complexity of the spiritual battlefield and the unspoken connections that transcend the realms of light and shadow.

After the supernatural storm, as the city heaved a sigh of relief, Constantine and the spectral being stood face to face. The air crackled with lingering energy and their eyes met in a silent exchange of gratitude and appreciation. Without words, a magnetic pull drew them closer together until their lips met in a passionate kiss.

“You saved the altar” the being murmured against his lips, placing her hands on his chest.

“It was bombed once… and I don’t have any heavy arms on me.”

“That’s good, Constantine” she touched his lips gently, tracing them with her fingers before kissing him again.

“I’m prayin’ at your altar…” he breathed, moving his lips to the being’s neck, gently squeezing her hips and pushing her closer to the altar, “if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I sure know what you mean, John Constantine.”

The boundaries between the hunter and the mystical being blurred, and in this unspoken union the city witnessed a union that overcame the dichotomy of good and evil. The night, once shrouded in malice, gave way to the dawn of a city reborn, where prayers and mysteries lingered in the air like the echo of an ancient hymn, and the kiss between Constantine and the spectral being came to symbolise a love that transcended the boundaries of the constant fight between good and evil and the balance he kept willing to restore.

[penwieldingdreamer]

Right, so as I got the message today, that I'm just trying to gain publicity for a "book" I haven't even touched in a while and slandering the name of Doctor Mike, because of said thing I started and only wrote a chapter that was super sweet imo when I had time and inspiration to start writing again after having had tumblr to only read other stories, I'll be taking a break and not continue to write my RPFs for a while.

Don't want to slander other celebrities to gain publicity as I was so friendly reminded of.

Work is getting crazy write now, really starting with the 2nd business and I'll be concentrating on that one, though I'll still be here, probably just not writing for another while 🙈. Sorry to all that were looking forwards to new chapters or works.

Love you guys, Merry Christmas 🎄 and happy holidays 💖

[feinv]

can we get some grumpy constantine x sunshine!reader content 👀

grumpy!constantine who would never admit it to himself, let alone to you, but you were the only thing that kept him going. you were sweet and kind, and you were good. you were everything he wasn’t, but you were the only source of light and purity in his life full of sin and darkness.

sunshine!reader who would spend hours trying on cute girly outfits, stepping in front of john and swinging around to show him her look, all smiles and giggles. to which he would blankly reply with “cute,” and shoot a weak smile (if you’re lucky). but he would literally be fuming from inside at how beautiful his girl looked and how madly infatuated he was with her.

grumpy!constantine who is not the biggest fan of physical touch. he shoots daggers at anyone who even tries to shake his hand or pat his shoulder until they awkwardly retract their hands, but allows her to cling to him as much as she wants to. he doesn’t mind her being clingy, although he will always throw snarky comments about it. her hands would always be wrapped around his forearm, or head rested on his shoulder, or she would be crawling on his lap and cuddling his body like there is no tomorrow. “come on now, i have stuff to do,” as if his hands aren’t curling around her with a strong and possessive grip.

sunshine!reader who happily ignores grumpy!constantine’s rude remarks and continues to be as affectionate as she wants. she loves him dearly and she knows he loves her as much, despite not saying it very often.

[monsoonsosoon]

i can't stop thinking about slowly falling for your older, handsome, mysterious neighbor! john wick (´ 3｀)

you'd swoon when you looked out the window and saw him walk out to the curb to check his mail, the way he looked in those grey sweatpants and that white t-shirt...

he'd give you a polite smile and a slight nod when you passed his house on your daily walk while he was working in his front yard, which made your face heat up instantly.

you'd build up the courage to interact with him more, make excuses to be around him. you'd share your baked goods with him or ask for help around your house with something... anything to get closer to him.

your hand would brush against his as you hand him a container of cookies you'd baked for him to try...the electricity of his touch lingering long after.

john could tell you had a crush on him, so he'd occasionally tease you, make you squirm under his intense gaze and soft smiles, his voice sending chills down your spine.

he'd lean on the fence between your yards, listening intently while you chatted with him about your day. his muscular arms flexing as he gripped the wooden post.

[bbr0wni3]

Imagine being John Wick's girlfriend, he takes you to the hotel he always goes to, once you make yourselves at home you enter the bathroom to change, after a while you come out wearing a soft little skirt and a simple white tank top that it is almost see through as he can clearly see your bra. You start approaching the bed, with one pair of deep dark eyes following you inside the room, you stand in front of him, and you let yourself think you're so brave to let this man taste every little inch of you with only his eyes, he watches every move you make.

He begins placing a hand on your waist, touching the fabric of your clothes, he absorbs every little sensation of the soft texture that he feels like it's burning on the tip of his fingers, he grows hungry every time your sweet perfume scent hits his nose. Craving you even more on each minute that goes by.

He starts caressing softly but also provocatively the inner parts of your thighs. He feels his pants grow tighter and suffocate the aching feeling that grows between his legs every time he hears the little gasps that come out of your soft and moist lips.

You start to touch his broad shoulders, tracing circles with the tip of the fingers of your right hand, slowly going down his chest, you listen to his breath rhythm change when you do so, and as you both keep an intense eye contact, the buttons of his waistcoat are unfastened with only four of your fingers. His hands start going up to grasp intensively your ass as soon as you start raising your leg to sit on top of his big thighs, straddling him and laying your arms around his neck as you both still eat yourselves with only your passionate gazes.

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Safe - John Wick x Fem!Reader

Summary: John comes home from work and he is wounded, and as his worried wife, you help him.

Warnings: swearing, oral m!receiving, blood/gore, talk of violence, mainly fluff.

Enjoy!

You sit alone in your large kitchen, biting your nails and shaking your leg as you anxiously wait for your husband to come home.

His profession was extremely dangerous. Every time he went out you didn’t know if he was alive. Whenever you heard a car pass by your house, you wondered if it were the police coming to inform you that your husband had passed.

You knew that you had to make certain sacrifices that came with being married to The John Wick, the Boogie Man, as they call him.

You hear the door unlock, and your breath hitched. Running to the door, you are met with John. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding back tears as you nuzzle your face into the crook of us neck. “Oh, John…”

His hands weakily wrap around your waist. “Y/N…” he sighs, resting his chin atop your head.

Your hand trails down the chest of his suit. You find the red substance of blood on his white shirt. “You were shot?”

“Stabbed,” he says. “Not too bad. I’ve been though worse,”

You sigh. “Yeah, just stabbed.” You say sarcastically. “What if next time you get stabbed even worse, or shot, and you don’t make it through?” You question.

John gives you a saddened look. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You have a right to be mad, and worried.”

You give him an angered gaze, but it slowly fades as you hear the sincerity in his voice. You lean up to kiss him. “You’re right,” you say.

You take him to the kitchen where you strip him of his suit jacket and button up shirt. “This is going to sting,” you say. “I know,” he replies.

The wound was shallow, but it was still gushing a fair amount of blood. Once you were able to slow down the bleeding, you begin to clean it. John lightly hisses as you disinfect his wound.

You quickly bandage it neatly, then reward him with a warm kiss on his lips. “You have to stop this, John,”

“I know,” he says again. “I- I can retire, if you want.”

“Will you really do that for me?”

“Of course, baby. You are more important than work.”

You smile softly. “If you think it’s the best, then you can. I will support whatever you do,” you say. “Will you be safe?” You ask.

“We are safe. We will always be safe.”

“No, will you be safe?”

John pauses for a concerning amount of time. “I will be safe.” He says. “And if anybody comes after you, or me, I will kill them.”

“John,” you say like a disappointed mother. But, you couldn’t help but smile. You loved your mass murderer husband.

“That’s the spirit, love,” he smiles and gives you a kiss.

“You should go wash up,” you tell him. His face was cut, as well as his hair slicked back with sweat.

“Join me?”

“Very funny,” you laugh before sending him up to the bathroom to clean off the sins of the night. “Be mindful of your bandages,”

“Yes, ma’am,” John chuckled.

John finds his way to the master bathroom. He strips the rest of his clothes and got into the shower. His bandage inevitably got wet.

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling as the heterogeneous mixture of sweat, styling gel and water ran down his back. It felt so releiving to wash himself of the stress and torment of his job.

He used a musky scented soap to wash off the sweat and grime he had accumulated through the night. He exited the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist before redressing his wound.

John left the bathroom, towel still lazily around his waist. You were in bed, reading a book as you awaited for your husband to join you.

You couldn’t help but look at his chiseled abs and cutting hip bones. Of course, you also couldn’t ignore his broad shoulders and tattoo covered back.

“Y/N. You’re starring,”

“Oh,” you say. “Sorry,” you laugh, and he smirks. “Is it such a crime to appreciate my husbands body?”

“No. Just funny to call you out on it,” he says. He grabs a pair of sweatpants and slipped them on.

“Come lay down, babe,” you pull back the comforter in the empty space for him to fill. He slowly lays down, and he groans as his aching back hits the bed.

“Are you really going to retire?” You ask as your hand gently rests on his chest. You slowly draw circles on his skin, avoiding any bruised areas.

“Anything for you,”

You smile, and he slowly leans in to connect your lips in a gently kiss. “I will love you forever…” he murmurs agaisnt your lips. “I will love you when I’m below the ground, and I will love you after the earth ceases to exist…”

You rest your forehead against his, shakily sighing. “I love you, too. Always and forever…”

John kisses you again, hungerly needing your touch and presence against his skin. He gently grips your hair as he hums against your soft, pillowy lips.

His hand reaches for your waist, pulling your laying body closer to his. He squeezes your flesh though your sleep shirt. You whine at the tight squeeze.

Johns lips trail off yours, adventuring down your jaw to suck hot sores on your neck. His hand on your waist moves up, dangerously close to your chest. He cups your breast with his sore and bruised hands through your shirt, gently massaging it in his palm. He knew just how to make you fold.

“John-“ you whisper.

“What, love?”

“Not tonight. You need to heal.” You tell him.

He rests his head on your shoulder, sighing softly. “You’re right,” he whispers. “It’s just so hard to keep my hands off you.” He glances down at his lap, seeing the tent growing in his sweatpants.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” You reply.

“I- um. I know you said I have to heal. But, what am I supposed to do about that?” He asks, moving away from the crook of your neck to show the erection in his pants.

You think for a moment, keeping your eyes fixated on his bulge. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t use my hands or my mouth on you,” you tell him, and he grins.

You reach for the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them off his thighs. Johns cock springs out from his pants. He was hard and throbbing just by touching your breasts.

You grasp his length. His breath hitched at the sight of your hand around his dick. You slowly begin stroking him. You hover above him, letting a string of spit slowly dripping down onto his tip.

“Oh-“ he mumbled as the warm liquid touches his pulsating crown.

You gently kiss the tip, your hand still stroking his shaft slowly.

“Y/N…”

You whimper against his cock at the sound of his voice. You knew you had to resist him. You couldn’t risk opening his wound and causing him any pain. Hopefully an orgasm would help his aching body in some way.

You slowly take in his length. You suck the tip, humming at the salty taste of his pre-cum. You knew he wasn’t going to last too long. He never lasted long when you sucked him off.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, “don’t stop- fuck. Don’t stop-“

You didn’t stop, and you weren’t going to stop until you pleasured him to your full ability.

You take in more of his cock. John shivered at the sight of his erection engulfed in your mouth.

“I’m close- shit. I’m gonna cum. Fuck.” He moans.

You began sucking him faster. You felt as your lips glided over the thriving veins on his cock, but always focusing on the tip. He loved it when you toyed with his tip.

His hips shudder, causing you to gag. “Sorry, baby,” he quickly says. You don’t reply, gagging again. You didn’t care if you gagged on his cock. You loved it, because you knew that you were doing good.

His hips jerk up again. He grips your hair, moaning your name as you quickly and steadily suck his cock. He began chasing his release.

“Fuck!” He moans. His eyes roll back, head hitting the pillow as his cum shoots into your mouth. You always loved the taste of his cum.

You finish him off with your hand, swallowing all his arousal as you did. Cum continued to shoot out, going all over your hand as he bucked his hips into your palm.

You happily licked it off, humming at the salty, yet at the same time, sweet taste.

“Fuck. Thank you, baby…” he whispers. The pleasure helped ease some of his pain.

“Anything for you,” you smile. You kiss him, and he tastes his own cum off your lips.

“Can I return the favour?” He asks, toying with the elastic band of your sleep shorts.

You shake your head. “Not tonight. You can in the morning once you have some rest,” you tell him. He frowns, but obeys.

“Okay,” John says. He fixes his sweatpants, and you grab a tissue off the night stand to wipe the spit and cum off your hand, and a bit of the white fluid that got on his stomach. John reachs over to turn off the bedside lamp, groaning as his body was strained to make the reach.

“Goodnight, baby…” you lay your head on his chest, yet again mindful of the bruises and cuts.

“Goodnight. I love you…” John whispers

“I love you too…”

[greenmanalishi]

*CHAPTER 4 SPOILER*

[rosevette]

·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS pt. 1 my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

💋ྀིྀི résumé : meeting the man of your dreams at an art auction in Paris isn’t too good to be true, right ? Well, your bodyguard thinks just the opposite.

1.0k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent ⭑

୭ৎ … this is lowk based on one of my bots with marquis here … this is my first little blurb, I don’t really write but this idea is too good to not share w yall. if u see any spelling or grammar mistakes , ignore !! part two here - sincerely, rose

IN THE HEART OF PARIS, amidst the elegant splendor of an art auction, you found yourself captivated by the beauty of the pieces on display. Adorned in a gown of midnight blue silk, you moved gracefully through the room, your eyes alight with fascination as you admired each exquisite masterpiece.

As you lingered before a stunning portrait, a voice broke through the murmurs of the crowd.

"A breathtaking piece, is it not?" Turning, you found yourself face to face with a tall, green eyed brooding man. Dressed in a tailored suit of charcoal grey, he exuded an air of effortless charm as he regarded you with a knowing smile.

"Yes, it truly is," you replied, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing emerald eyes. Engaging in polite small talk, you found yourself drawn into conversation with the stranger, his wit and sophistication captivating your attention.

“Marquis De Gramont. And you?” He spoke with a thick French accent, his thin lips forming a smile as he extended out his arm, opening his hand for you to shake. Flattered by him already, you shake his hand, your other one clutching onto your purse as you introduced yourself.

How charming, he was, you thought to yourself. He was not only handsome, but was a gentleman as well. You could tell by the way he just suited himself, and that sparkle in his eyes you glanced at whenever you two conversed.

One thing you didn’t know was that in fact, this man was the complete opposite of charming and well, a gentleman. Yes, he held himself with impeccable style and his composure was kept controlled, but the thoughts that came across his mind were just pure sin. He thought of how pretty you would look with your dress rolled up to your stomach as he pounded into you in the back of his limousine, maybe even perhaps hidden in an empty aisle of this very art auction.

The way his hands are would just fit around that small neck, the pearls that would fall on the ground as he pulled it off of you, and finally, your watery puppy eyed face he’d enjoy seeing begging and pleading for him to stop , or maybe even for more.

As the auction commenced, you both found yourselves bidding on a magnificent painting—a Madonna and Child by Duccio. With each raise of the paddle, the tension between you grew, the excitement of the bidding war fueling your competitive spirit.

In the end, it was you who emerged victorious, the winning bid earning you the coveted artwork. As you basked in the glow of your triumph, the Marquis offered you a gracious smile, masking the flicker of his ulterior motives in his eyes.

Later that evening, as the auction drew to a close and guests began to depart, the Marquis De Gramont approached you once more, his charming smile never faltering.

"Ah, ma chérie, it seems fate has brought us together once again," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk as he took your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. A blush crept onto your cheeks at his bold gesture, and you chuckled softly in response.

"Perhaps our paths will cross again during your time in Paris," you replied, returning his flirtatious banter with a playful glint in your eye.

As you turned to leave, blowing a teasing kiss in his direction, you couldn't shake the feeling of his lingering gaze on your back. Climbing into the waiting limousine, you settled into the plush seat beside your ever-watchful bodyguard, John Wick. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he glanced at you.

"Was that the Marquis?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

You rolled your eyes, dismissing his worry with a wave of your hand.

"And what about him, John?" you retorted, feigning nonchalance as you closed the door behind you.

"You shouldn't be so friendly with strangers," John admonished, his concern palpable as he turned his attention back to the road.

Returning to the luxurious confines of the Ritz Paris, you found yourself lost in thought, the memory of your encounter with the Marquis lingering in your mind. Despite John's warnings, you couldn't shake the feeling that the Marquis's intentions were harmless. Little did you know, danger lurked just beyond the facade of charm and sophistication.

The next morning, as sunlight streamed through the silk curtains of your suite, you awoke to find John reading quietly on the sofa.

"I ordered some room service," he informed you, his gaze never leaving the pages of his book. You greeted him with a playful smirk, teasing him for his lack of a proper morning greeting.

While indulging in breakfast, your attention was drawn to a shiny box nestled among the pastries on the cart. With curiosity piqued, you opened it to find a stunning Van Cleef necklace in your favorite shade of sapphire blue. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the accompanying note, the words "for mon chérie" sending a chill down your spine.

Assuming it was a thoughtful gesture from John, you were taken aback when you realized the true sender. The Marquis's charm had ensnared you once again, his gift a reminder of the dangerous game he was playing. With a sense of foreboding settling over you, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the Marquis had in store.

End of part 1. Part 2.

© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !

[ruskaroma]

Absolutely fucking adore the idea of Constantine having a very talkative and energetic little human around that he calls “bunny” and treats you like one, treats you like a pet.

You really think that you’re Constantine’s sidekick because you follow him around everywhere he goes and you’re basically living in his apartment because you just – never – fucking – leave. No matter what Constantine does, no matter how mean he treats you, you just can’t bring yourself to hate him because he just might be the only light you have in your life – which is a weird thing to say considering Constantine probably possesses the most darkest mind in the world and you haven’t even seen half of it.

When he’s in a good mood, he’d treat you out for a dinner and actually conversates with you like a normal human being (even though nothing about him – or you – is normal) and tell demon and angel stories you’d always find yourself drawn into, chin on your palm, wide doe eyes while listening to his deep voice talk.

Most of the time you’d get very excited about something and very eager to learn that you’re practically vibrating in your seat. It’s such a normal occurrence to Constantine that he knows how to deal with you when you’re in that state of mind.

“Wait so – if demons and angels exist, is there a possibility that vampires are also true? Are they real? Please, tell me they’re real – I mean, have you ever met one before, John? God, that would be so freaking cool. I always wanted to be a vampire –”

Constantine lets you talk. Even though he wouldn’t quite grasp the other words that you’re saying because he really feels like you’re rapping instead of talking. Not to mention the hand movements you’d do while you spew random little facts out of nowhere, or when you’d remember a memory from childhood that you’ll end up telling him; Constantine really does find you quite adorable.

And you’re a bit energetic too. Well, a bit wouldn’t really cover it. You’re full blown energetic who sometimes acts like you drank five cans of caffeine the moment you open your eyes, but Constantine knows all your energy is natural and comes from your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to sit down next to him at a diner without your hands fiddling with something or when you just really… couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s a hard thing to do, really. 

Then there’s Constantine, who likes to take advantage of your behavior by saying something really perverted and inappropriate.

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

“Would my cock be enough to get you to stop talking?”

“Good one. But that would only make it a lot worse.”

“I know. I’ve heard it,” he’d snicker, then would press a kiss on your cheeks that would make you flutter and scoff in annoyance. He always smelled like cigarettes and something minty. “I’m joking, bun.”

“Yeah, it would be a joke if it wasn’t true,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve witnessed my mouth doing a lot more work than usual when I’m sucking your dick.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself, bun. Looks like your mouth got more talent other than talking.”

“Haha, very funny.”

His comments like that don’t really offend you or anything because you know he’s joking. You know he secretly loves your rambles despite being mean about it, because that’s just how he is.

But during sex, it’s a whole different story.

Constantine has a habit of making you cry on the bed by making your rambles even worse. He knows that you ramble when you’re either feeling flustered, nervous, or horny, and most of the time you get all those feelings at once when you’re in front of his cock, which means a sudden flip of the switch inside your brain just goes off and you start saying these deliciously filthy words that never fails to make Constantine hard.

“What’s that, little bun? I didn’t hear you,” Constantine smirked, voice teasing as his hand gripped the base of his thick cock, smearing the dripping tip all over your lips as you struggled to catch your breath after he fucked your throat. “Where did my little talkative bunny go, hm? Why is she not talking?”

“J–John–”

“Oh? What’s that? Is the little bunny speaking?” Constantine mocked, pulled his dick away from your mouth as he gripped your chin with one hand. “If my bunny wants my attention, that’s not the right name she should be addressing me, yeah? Already forgot our rules around here, bun? I let you get a taste of my cock and you’re already defying me?”

“No–no, no, d-daddy, that’s not–that’s not what I mean,” you sniffled, your eyes getting teary from your kneeling position as well as when you heard Constantine’s mocking voice above you. “Daddy, please–just want–just want your cock in my pussy again, p-please–”

“Oh, you do? Poor little bunny is so wet and horny now, hm? My little bunny is feeling so empty?”

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

“Look at you crying. You look so pathetic,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hair and throwing you on the bed. You were already naked, already covered in bruises from the makeout session earlier and the handprint on your ass was starting to become more evident and red as minutes went by. “Where does my bunny want daddy’s cock, huh? Where do you want it, bun, tell me.”

“I–In my–In my pussy, daddy, want it in my–my cunny–” you sniffled again, pawing at his shoulders as your tears were starting to blur your vision. “Daddy, please–please, I want you so bad–miss your cock so much, feel so empty and wet and I just wanna–”

“Shhh, bun, I know. I know what you want,” he petted your hair with one hand while his other was guiding his cock in your cunt, the fat tip circling teasingly on your already puffy pussy lips and not quite going in. “Wish I could record you like this and make you watch it after. Fucking show you how filthy you are while begging for my cock. All the dirty shit you say when you’re so desperate for me.”

You keened, nodding absentmindedly even though you didn’t understand a single word he said. Your mind was only focusing on the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your sloppy cunt.

“Yes–yes, please, daddy, d-do what you want–do want you want, I’m yours–bunny is all yours–”

“That’s right. That’s my little bunny, knowing her place and where she rightfully belongs,” Constantine grinned, and it was only then he slammed his cock all the way inside you, stretching your walls wide as you bite onto his shoulders to keep yourself from waking up the entire building. “I would choose this tight little pussy over entering the fucking gates of heaven.”

[fics-not-tragedies]

All Drabbles Masterlist

All drabbles I've ever written are listed below gathered in the type of prompt or the event for which they were wrote.

➺ ALL 1K FOLLOWERS DRABBLES

➺ ALL LYRICAL DRABBLES

➺ ALL FUCKIN’ FEBRUARY DRABBLES

➺ ALL APRIL SONG PROMPT DRABBLES

➺ ALL JUICY JUNE 2020 DRABBLES

➺ ALL KINKTOBER 2019 DRABBLES

➺ ALL KINKTOBER 2020 DRABBLES

➺ ALL BLOG 1ST B-DAY LYRIC PROMPTS

[keanusbabydoll]

shower sex

paring: keanu reeves x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, rough sex, arguing, degrading if you squint, little to no plot, shower sex, age gap

••••••𑁍𑁍𑁍••••••

keanu and y/n had been together for nearly a year now. she was an 20-year-old rising star with a rare blend of grace, beauty, and talent, while keanu, in his late fifties, was the seasoned actor everyone knew and loved. despite their significant age difference, their relationship was strong, built on mutual respect, a shared passion of acting, and an understanding of each other's unique lives. their love had a depth that surprised many, including themselves.

y/n had been cast in the latest john wick film as a pivotal character - a young assassin with a complexed relationship with wick. it was a huge break for her, a role that demanded everything she had to offer and more. but it also meant grueling days on set, hours of preparation, and physical exhaustion like she'd never known.

keanu was giving everything to the film; it was his most iconic role, and the fans expected nothing less than perfection.

the set was close to their shared home, each night they would return home, grateful for the privacy and comfort it offered. but something had begun to shift between them since the shooting started. the long days left little room for intimacy or even simple moments of connection. they would often return home after 10 PM, too tired to do anything but collapse into bed. some nights, keanu didn't even make it home, having to stay behind to train or prepare for the next day's fighting scenes.

but y/n could feel the tension building inside her. she missed him- needed him- missed the way they used to be before the shooting started. the stolen kisses, the laughter, the way they would get lost in each other's arms. and of course the sex. they used to fuck like literal rabbits, loving to be at it practically every minute, every day. but now it's completely different, both of them are always way too tired, especially keanu. it's not like y/n didn't have the energy or motivation to have sex, she dearly desired it, but it was keanu who mostly every time declined it. she understood that then film demanded everything from him, from them, but it didn't stop her from feeling the frustration of their growing distance.

she wanted him. hell, craved him. and the longer they went without any real intimacy, the more the frustration build up.

one evening, after another exhausting day on set, they finally made it back home just after 10 PM. y/n entered the house first, tossing her bag to the floor with more force than necessary. keanu followed her, his face lined with exhaustion, but there was a gentle smile on his lips as he greeted their dog, who was eagerly wagging his tail.

"I'm going to change." keanu said, his voice rough from the day. he kissed y/n forehead lightly, barely brushing her skin, before heading upstairs to their bedroom. she stood there, her body tense, the kiss doing nothing to alleviate the storm of emotions swirling inside her. she wanted more than just a peck on the forehead.

she wanted all of him.

y/n needed him in a way that only passionate sex could satisfy. she couldn't even describe it properly how much she needed him to ruin her. but every night, the exhaustion seemed to win.

keanu reappeared a few minutes later, now in a pair of loose sweatpants and a faded band tee. he sank into the couch with a groan, his head leaning back as he closed his eyes. the sight of him like this - vulnerable, weary - only intensified her desire. she couldn't wait any longer. she walked over to him and sat beside him, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "keanu." she whispered, her voice laced with yearning.

he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a tired but warm smile. "what is it, darling."

instead of answering, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. keanu responded, his lips moving against hers with a familiar softness, but there was a hesitation in his touch. undeterred, y/n deepened the kiss, her hand sliding down his chest, grazing his almost unnoticeable bulge ever so slightly. keanu pulled back, confusion written in his eyes. "y/n, wait..."

but she didn't want to wait. she knew what she wanted and that was definitely him. she straddled his lap, pressing herself against him, desperate to finally feel him against her. the moment she felt his dick pressing into her, her hips began to grind down on him hard. "I need you keanu." she murmured against his lips, her voice trembling with desire.

he placed his hands on her hips, gently but firmly stopping her movements. "I'm... I'm tired, love. I just don't have the energy." the words hit her like a slap in the face. y/n pulled back, her expression hardening as anger flared up inside her.

"tired?" she echoed, voice tinging with disbelief. "we haven't had sex in weeks, keanu! I know you're exhausted, but so am I! don't you think I need you too?"

Keanu's brows furrowed, his weariness replaced by frustration. "of course I know that, but I've been pushing myself to the limit every day. this movie - its grueling. you know how demanding it is!"

y/n stood up abruptly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I'm not asking for much! just one night, keanu. I want to feel close to you again, to remind myself that we're not just co-stars living in the same house!"

his eyes flashed with anger, his own patience wearing thin. "and you think I don't want that too? I'm not some machine, y/n! I'm giving everything I have there, and when I come home, I'm spent. I'm sorry if that's not enough for you." the harshness of his words cut deep, and she felt a sting of tears in her eyes. she turned away from him, arms crossed over her chest, unable to bear the sight of him in that moment.

"I can't believe you don't see how much this is hurting me." she mumbled quietly, voice shaking. Keanu's silence was deafening. he watched her, his expression softening but he didn't budge. he knew he had a point.

y/n shook her head in disbelief. "I'm going to take a shower." she muttered. without another word, she walked away, leaving keanu alone in the living room.

as she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water cascading down felt like a small reprieve from the turmoil raging inside her. with a sigh she stripped off her clothes and stepped under the hot stream, letting it wash over her, hoping it could cleanse away the anger and hurt she felt. but the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, mixing with the water as they fell from her cheeks. a sob escaped her mouth as she leaned her back against the wall, head tilting up. they had barely touched each other in weeks, and the absence of his touch, his presence, was like a void. she ached for him, and not forget to mention the sex. but every night it seemed to slip further away.

as the minutes passed, her anger began to ebb, replaced by a deep, gnawing sadness. she hated fighting with keanu, hated the distance between them. how had they come to this? they had been so happy, passionate, so in sync. all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before the movie had taken over their lives.

y/n wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the bathroom door creak open. her heart skipped a beat as she opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, expecting to see keanu standing there. he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his expression softened by an apology that had yet to be spoken. he was still wearing his sweatpants, but his shirt was gone, revealing his toned body she loved so much.

"y/n." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it echoed in the small space. she didn't respond, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions - anger, hurt and a desperate yearning. keanu took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached for the hem of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them down. y/n watched, her breath catching in her throat as he stripped down, his vulnerability in that moment touching her in a way she hadn't expected. he stood there for a moment, hesitating, as if unsure whether she would welcome him or push him away. but then he stepped into the shower, the water immediately soaking his hair, his body, as he closed the distance between them.

his hands found her waist, and he pulled her to him, their wet bodies pressing together as the stream enveloped them. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

she looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any trace of anger that had been there before, but all she saw was regret, love and... lust. "I just... I miss you keanu." she admitted, voice trembling. "I miss us." he nodded, his forehead resting against hers. "I know, and I miss you too. I've been so caught up in everything - the training, fighting scenes- I lost sight of what really matters." he cupped her face in his hands, this thumbs brushing away the lingering tears on her cheeks. "I'm here now y/n. I'm right here."

the sincerity of his voice broke down the last of her defenses. she leaned into him, her hands gripping his arms as she felt the warmth of his body against her own. Keanu's lips found hers, this time with a tenderness that melted away the frustration that had built up inside her. the kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that he was there with her, fully present in that moment.

they stayed like that for a while, the water pouring over them as their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy. his hands roamed over her whole body, slightly squeezing her breasts. his touch ignited a fire within her that she had longed to feel for weeks. y/n responded with equal fervor, her fingers sliding up and down his chest. "keanu," she breathed as she pulled away from their intense kiss. she looked at him with lust filled eyes, wanting him right now. "I need you."

his response was a low groan as he gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her up. instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her aching body. the passion between them was undeniable, a raw, primal need that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long. keanu pressed her against the cold tile wall, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her neck as she arched against him. her arms wrapped around his neck, a moan slipping past her lips. he passionately started to suck and lick on the sensitive skin, enjoying the sounds she was making.

her excitement just grew even more when she felt his hard cock press up against her tingling pussy. slowly, she started to move against him to gain some friction, eliciting a low growl from him. "please more, keanu." she whimpered. he pulled away from her neck and looked at her with those eyes that would make her weak every time. "my little impatient girl."

the hand that rested loosely on her neck, sneaked it's way down to her aching cunt, slowly, going up and down between her wet folds. he moaned out at the feeling, giving her a peck on the lips. "you're so wet for me baby." he mumbled as he pushed two of his fingers inside of her warm walls. "ah- just f-for you." y/n whined out. he scissored his fingers inside her before he arched his fingers up, pressing directly onto that spot that made her see stars. when he began to thrust his fingers up, a loud moan escaped her throat and her head flew back in bliss.

her grip on keanu tightened and she rocked against his fingers, needing to feel him even more. the pace of his fingers increased, making her a moaning mess already. he just knew too well how to make her fold. her walls started to flutter around his digits, the coil in her abdomen slowly building up. "fuck, daddy!" she breathed out as her eyes shut close.

"you're doing so good for me baby." he rumbled right into her ear, licking a stripe down her neck. the sight of her made keanu twitch in excitement, needing her just as much, he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. after a few more strokes of his fingers, he pulled out of her slippery hole, making her cry out at the denial, her forming orgasm fading away. "daddy..." she whined, staring up at him with those puppy eyes. a smirk played on Keanu's lips when he heard her desperate cries.

"don't you want to come around daddy's cock?"

her mouth opened a little, but she just nodded silently in reply, eyes sparkling with desire at the thought of it. "of course you want it, little slut." he growled before he lined up with her welcoming entrance. with a swift move of his hips, he slid into her hole with ease, filling her up to the brim. a loud squeal escaped y/n‘s throat at the feeling of getting ripped open by his dick. she would never get used to his size, doesn’t matter how many times they would fuck.

the burning pain washed through her whole body and her face scrunched up in discomfort. keanu watched her face closely, observing her every reactions. he didn’t move, waiting for her to get used to him and tell him to start.

he would always do that. he wanted her to feel safe and comfortable around him.

but there definitely were times where he wouldn’t care a bit about her comfort, completely showing off his dominant side.

and y/n secretly loved this.

obviously.

she breathed in sharply before she opened her eyes, immediately meeting keanu‘s lustful gaze.

"you can move.“ a quiet whisper echoed in the room. his grip on her body tightened before he began to thrust inside her with a slow but hard pace. the second he began to move, her world turned upside down.

she had missed this way too much. missed him way too much.

y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tighter to him, her face buried in the crook of it. keanu grabbed her thighs harder before he began to move her body against his, meeting his own thrusts. his lips found hers, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. their lips moved against each other with desire and when y/n let out a whimper, keanu slipped his tongue in, fighting for dominance.

hot, high pitched moans filled the air as the water poured down on them, adding even more intimacy to their long desired moment.

"please go faster keanu.“ she whimpered as she pulled away from the kiss and the second the words left her lips, he increased his speed, clashing his hips faster, more furiously against her.

"oh fuck.“ she moaned out at his pace. one of john’s hand wandered up her body, caressing her tits, squeezing ever so harshly and pulling on her hardened nipples before it grabbed ahold of y/n‘s throat. his grip was harsh and he pushed her head back against the tile wall, making her look at him.

"is that what you wanted?“ keanu asked, his hips rutting harsher and faster into her at every word that came out of his mouth.

with the pressure of his hand on her throat and the intense hammering of his hips, y/n can’t even think straight, her senses are completely dazed, all she has on her mind is keanu and how good and hard he’s fucking her. she doesn’t even comprehend his words.

a harsh slap on her cheek, drives her back into reality and her eyes shoot open to look at him. he’s already staring at her with harsh, darkened eyes.

"answer. me.“ he growled as he tightened the grip around her throat even more, almost cutting off her airways and just fucked rougher into her.

"mh-yes, that’s- that’s what i wanted.“ she managed to mewl out before she focused on the pleasure he was giving to her again. in reply, keanu just smirked darkly before he completely pulled out of her.

with knitted eyebrows and mouth wide agape, she looked up at him with confusion written all over her face. "what- what’s wrong?“ she mumbled.

wordlessly, keanu set her down and with the blink of an eye she was turned around and mushed up against the frigid glass wall. he reached around her middle, pulled her hips back, and made her arch her back. with his knee, he pushed her wobbly legs wide open and with a sharp thrust he filled her hole up again. "keanu!“ she yelled out, pressing her palms against the glass for support but it was useless. he immediately started off with a quick pace, hands placed on her hips.

the new angle allowed his tip to brush exactly into that one spot that made her knees go weak and eyes turn to the back of her scull. the cool sensation of the glass wall on her hardened nipples only added fuel to her receiving pleasure.

"my little slut. taking me so well.“ he murmured against her ear, his dick plunging into her in an animalistic speed and harshness.

too lost in the moment, y/n didn’t even notice when keanu sneaked a hand around her middle again and began to rub circles on her swollen clit, eliciting a loud and powerful whine that echoed in the room.

with the constant stimulation on her clit and g-spot, y/n felt her orgasm slowly building up and her legs began to tremble, almost giving out.

keanu seemed to notice this and wrapped his other hand around her upper body, supporting her in the best way possible. hearing her sweet moans and cry’s sent waves of pleasure through his whole body, getting closer and closer to his release as well. his eyes fell closed and his head leaned back, enjoying the feeling of her warm, velvety walls wrapped around him so perfectly.

the speed of his fingers increased and y/n‘s moans began to get louder and louder, almost reaching her peak.

"im gonna cum, daddy!“

with an answering groan, keanu pounded into her deeper than before and sped up his moving hips to their maximum, his fingers pressing and circling her nub harsher.

"cum with me princess.“ he snarled as he finally let go, spurting all of his seed deep inside of her. his orgasm triggered y/n‘s own and with a pornographic moan she stumbled over the edge, coming hard around him. keanu fucked her through their orgasms, letting them ride it out.

"oh god, keanu!“ she yelled out at the intense fire burning inside of her as she pressed her cheek against the wall.

his movements slowed down and after a few thrusts his hips came to an halt. y/n gasped out, breathing heavily. keanu now wrapped both of his arms around her body lovingly, pressing his chest to her back.

"you did so good for me y/n.“ he whispered, voice soft, placing a small kiss to her temple.

carefully, keanu pulled out of her hole, eliciting a groan from both of them, and turned her around.

"i‘m sorry y/n. i shouldn’t have treated you like this. i- just- i hope you forgive me.“ the man mumbled, pressing his forehead against hers. she wrapped her arms around his torso, enjoying the warmth of his body.

"of course i forgive you. i‘m so relieved that we finally talked about all this, that you finally understand how i feel.“ she replied with a softness in her tone.

how could she ever be mad at him. he’s her whole world.

keanu smiled at her words and captured her face, pulling her into an passionate kiss. but the kiss showed off all of his emotions - love, happiness, sorrow, tenderness. y/n returned the kiss with equal fever, pulling him closer.

"i love you doll.“ he whispered against her lips.

"i love you too.“ she smiled before clashing her lips once again onto his.

[feinv]

oh my god. filming a tape with constantine would be CRAZY 😵‍💫😵‍💫 during that he forces the reader to look at the cam while pounding into her relentlessly just to capture her pretty fucked face..☺️also he would look occasionally at the camera smirking and in the end he save the tape as memento to remember the reader by when she’s away he’s so sentimental like that 🥰

-constantine’s babygirl 🪽.

john constantine x f!reader. filming a sextape.

he would plow into you with a steady rhythm, his cock filling you up so good you can’t stop your loud moans from reaching the surface, and especially since you know you are being recorded, the blood rushes to your cheeks, making you cover your face with your hands at the nervousness and a little bit of embarrassment.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he grunts, his free hand dragging your both wrists away and pinning them on your stomach, where you swore you could feel him during particularly deep thrusts. “let me see that pretty face.”

totally points the camera towards his head when he leans down to kiss you, your fingers running through his hair as he groans into your mouth. he LOVES making out with you with your lips moving in unison before he gets aggressive and desperate and starts literally devouring you with his tongue exploring your mouth. leaving you breathless gasping for the air with your lips red and plump is so cinematic to him i’m so fr right now.

he would then turn the camera at such angle that both of your bodies would be in it, to kind of show it’s him who is making you feel that way, all senses fucked into oblivion. honestly he is always going back and forth with the angles but when he knows you are about to cum he holds it in a way that every mimic of your face can be clearly seen cuz he is like. actually hypnotized by the scenery in front of him. you are soo beautiful to him but he thinks you look like a literal goddess when you got euphoria pulsing through your veins.

bonus!! he also takes polaroids of you either in a cute lingerie or completely naked and collects them like cute little trophies, but he always carries one of those in his wallet, and occasionally looks at it during particularly hard cases to kind of remind himself that he has to get through it because he has the most gorgeous looking girl waiting for him <3

[monsoonsosoon]

imagine meeting John Wick at a classic car show...

rock music drifts through the crisp air as you stroll amongst the rows of beautiful cars, admiring their gleaming paint jobs, when you spot a particularly eye-catching one parked at the end. it's a grey Mustang, and you're just drawn to it for some reason. it stands out amongst the others

you approach it, in awe at its pristine state. the owner obviously takes great care of it. you lean into the open window, smiling as you take in the gorgeous interior and leather seats. caught up in admiration, you don't notice the handsome older man approaching from behind. the owner of the sports car...john wick.

"like what you see?" a deep voice mutters, startling you. you quickly rise from the window and turn towards the voice.

"oh, I'm sorry sir! I just...really love your car," you say softly, cheeks heating up when you make eye contact with him. wearing a brown leather jacket, a simple black t-shirt, and dark jeans, he looks deliciously rugged.

he chuckles as he leans against his car, looking down at you.

"no worries, I appreciate it. she's my baby," he responds.

"I-it's a Mustang, correct? 1970...?" you ask as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, squirming under his intense gaze.

"close. she's a '69," he replies warmly. you nod in reply, too shy to speak, creating a bit of awkward silence. he digs into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

"wanna go for a spin?" he asks, "you seem quite intrigued by her," he says with a small smile.

your eyes widen at the prospect of riding in the beautiful vintage sports car with an even more attractive older man. you bite your lip before nodding excitedly.

"i'd love to...thank you, mister..."

"wick. john wick. But you can just call me john," he replies cooly.

he walks towards the passenger door, pulling it open for you. you give him a shy smile as you settle onto the cozy leather seat. your heart pounds as he walks around the car to the driver's side. you take in his handsome features as he enters, catching a whiff of his alluring cologne.

you blush at his eye contact.

the engine roars to life, and your heart flutters at the powerful vibrations pulsing through the car. you grip the cool metal of the inner door handle, bracing yourself for the ride.

"hold on tight," john utters gruffly as he presses on the gas.