#tom Ludlow fic

[johnwickb1tsch]

Excessive Force ~ a Tom Ludlow x Fem!NurseReader Fic by @treedaddymcpuffpuff & @johnwickb1tsch

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE

[fernpetals]

Fic Idea...

Thinking about yandere Ex Boyfriend Tom.

Things did not end well with his first marriage. But he was ready to make it right with his second one. That's why he had a ring ready for you after three months of meeting you.

But of course it never goes right and you end up breaking up with him. You say he is controlling and overprotective. But he was just looking out for you, darling. How the hell did you even figure out that he bugged your phone?

He rejects the title 'Ex', scoffing at it, folding his hands in front of his chest, and talking to you in that same patronizing tone you have come to hate so much. He will double it down, just to get a reaction from you. he keeps acting like you are still together (but you are! It's just a difficult phase in your relationship)

Yandere Ex-boyfriend Tom, who shows up randomly at your door in the middle of the night with anonymous complaints regarding 'noise disturbances'. And if you have any man over by chance...Let's just say that things go south very, very fast.

(GIF not mine, credit to the owner)

[discoscoob]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PHANTOM

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚ Tom Ludlow x Hacker!Reader x Neo Anderson

VOLUME 001

CW: fem!reader, strong language, alcoholism, stalking

Synopsis: Veteran detective, Tom Ludlow, leads the hunt to find the hacker responsible for a cyberattack on the city’s police department with the assistance of Neo, a criminal hacker who he keeps out of jail in exchange for information. 4.0k words.

⋆｡°✩ Note: Reader has a hacker alias, like Neo, that she is referred to however this is not intended to be her real name. Although the story takes place in 1999, some creative liberties have been taken with the advancement of the technology but I tried my best to keep it realistic. I did some research but my knowledge of technology, American law enforcement protocols and hacking is limited/non-existent, so I apologise in advance if anything I’ve written is completely inaccurate. And finally, since I decided to set the story in Chicago, Tom works for the CPD rather than the LAPD. I think that’s all.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

CHICAGO, NOVEMBER 1999

The door chimes as you step into the refuge of the intimate coffee shop, escaping the deluge of the late autumn thunderstorm. Folding up the damp newspaper you had been sheltering under, you’re greeted warmly by the gentle aroma of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon. Beaded raindrops slide off the hem of your black leather trench coat, leaving a trail of droplets over the rustic floorboards on your way towards the counter.

Exploiting the vantage point, you subtly scope the room, scanning for the individual you have arranged to meet. Amidst the ordinary and familiar, a lone hooded figure hunched in the farthest, darkest corner catches your eye.

Cradling the steaming mug of coffee you ordered, warmth flows from the porcelain, melting the chill from your fingers as you weave through the bohemian maze of tables and chairs. Upon reaching the table occupied by the hooded man, you grab his attention by tossing your damp, tattered newspaper on the cherry-wood tabletop before sliding yourself into the chair opposite him.

“Impressive.” his low rasp flows above the bumble of chatter, the whir of the espresso machine and the clatter of the crockery, as he drums his bitten-nailed fingertips over the smudged headline of the dampened newspaper.

‘CYBERATTACK CRIPPLES CHICAGO P.D.’ it reads in bold font across the front page.

You conceal your troubled frown behind your cup of coffee, sipping slowly. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself with casual confidence, your stomach squirms with nerves as if contaminated by worms that coil and twist, leaving a weight of knots that only grows heavier with every glance over your shoulder.

When the man opposite you lowers his hood, you peek over the brim of the mug. The faint amber glow of the overhead lights casts a warm hue upon his pale face, revealing his buzzed haircut, sharp grey eyes and a cursive tattoo above his right brow that reads ‘escape.’

“I can see why you’re interested in some additional protection.” his hushed tone is laced with a knowing edge, as he leans forward, elbows resting on the tabletop, assessing you with a tilted stare.

“You got it?” you waste no time with false pleasantries, uninterested in conversation, you would rather keep this brief. Disregarding his attempt to assert control, your cool exterior remains unflinching as you nonchalantly trace your middle finger along the edge of your mug.

You catch the shift in the muscles of his cheek as he clenches his jaw and leans back into his chair. Grudgingly, he reaches into the pocket of his dark hoodie and pulls out a nondescript disc case. The clear plastic gleams under the overhead lights as he drops it on top of the newspaper with a sharp huff.

You quirk an eyebrow at his insolence, offering no more than that before your attention is snatched by the disc. Picking up the case, you turn it over in your hands and examine it with narrowed eyes.

“This is the only copy?” you double-check while opening the case with a soft click. The disc glimmers as it catches the light, momentarily illuminating your face.

“It’s custom software. No trails. No backups.” he affirms, crossing his arms over his chest.

Satisfied with his response, you scope the room once more, noting how the other patrons are too absorbed in their own lives to notice the rolled up wad of cash you slip into his waiting palm.

“Always a pleasure.” he appears pleased with the payment and stuffs the money into his pocket before he pulls his hood back over his head and leaves the table. As you take a sip from your coffee, the chime of the door echos and the draught from the storm sweeps in as he disappears into it.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

The glaring artificial light from the monitors reflects off the lenses of Neo’s metal frame glasses while his long, jittery fingers click furiously across his keyboard. The perpetual clacking of the keys blends with the low hum of Mezzanine by Massive Attack echoing from the stereo system through the dull and bleak apartment, drowning out the sound of the storm outside. Cables snake across the bare floor, intertwining with the wheels of the worn desk chair. Neo is hunched over his chaotic desk, littered with discarded snack wrappers, empty coffee cups and energy drinks.

Locked in the digital labyrinth, Neo navigates it with unblinking eyes, the code mirrored in his pupils is no doubt permanently scorched into his retinas. The heavy shadows under his eyes are a testament to the endless caffeine-fuelled nights he spends sitting at his computer.

A heavy, insistent knock at the door shatters Neo’s focus, tearing his gaze from the monitors with an agitated groan. The distinct knock and the late hour of the visit tell him exactly who’s at his door.

With a huff, Neo turns off his stereo and pulls himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head to relieve the tension in his stiffened joints. A satisfied moan rolls from his lips and his black T-shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of his pale, sun-deprived skin as his bones click and pop. He pads softly towards the door on socked feet, stepping over tangled cables and discarded wrappers along the way.

Just as he expected, he opens his door to find Tom Ludlow in the dark hallway, leaning against his door frame with a stretched arm. The hardened, veteran detective invites himself inside without waiting for an invitation, the pungent scent of vodka clings to him and wafts into Neo’s dreary apartment as he enters.

“You look like shit.”

The gruff remark comes as no surprise, Tom isn’t exactly known for his sunny disposition.

“You don’t look any better.” Neo kicks his door shut with a grumble before slouching back into his desk chair, returning his attention to his monitors and diving back into the digital labyrinth. Meanwhile, the seasoned cop noses around the cluttered apartment with a disapproving frown tugging at his lips.

Tom lets his heavy body sink into the cushions as he drops onto Neo’s worn two-seater with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. It’s the first time he has had an opportunity to relax all day. He takes a moment to appreciate it.

“That might have something to do with the fact I just spent the last twelve hours dealing with a fucking cyberattack that’s got the whole damn department by the balls.” Tom rests his head down on the back of the couch and closes his eyes as he rubs his hand over his weary face.

“What’s your excuse?” he pauses, lifting his head, letting his eyes trail from Neo’s socked feet to his tousled, unwashed hair. “You’ve got all the time in the world, you could at least attempt to make yourself look half-decent, if you stepped away from that computer for two goddamn seconds…” Tom trails off, realising his frustration might verge on cruelty if he lets himself continue. Instead, he shifts his focus to the murky apartment. “You know, I’ve raided crack dens cleaner than this…”

“So the cyberattack really pissed you off, huh?” Neo turns in his desk chair without acknowledging Tom’s insolent remarks.

“Of course it fucking pissed me off! The entire network is shut down, there’s an encryption or something, I don’t know, blocking access to all the files and data. The Captain’s on my ass to solve this shit internally and find the bastard responsible before the Feds start poking their noses in with all their red tape and bureaucracy bullshit. You know, I always said, you can't rely on computers. The whole damn department is falling apart because everything's digital these days. A cyberattack can bring down an entire system. You couldn’t hack a piece of paper. No, you'd have to burn down the whole damn building or something to get rid of all the physical files.” Tom throws his head back on the couch again and stares up at the stained ceiling, while Neo discreetly rolls his eyes at Tom’s drunken rant and aversion to modern technology.

“Dude, I hate to tell you this, but you’re in way over your head. You’d be better off saving yourself the hassle and leaving this one to the Feds.” Neo advises Tom, clearly doubting his ability to uncover the hacker.

“What do you mean?” Tom leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re basically looking for the Banksy of cybercrime. A ghost. They’re completely untraceable. There are entire forums full of conspiracies — people think they’re ex-CIA, others are convinced they’re not even real.” Neo’s enthusiasm as he talks about the mystic hacker is met with an unimpressed glare from Tom, who rises from the couch and stalks toward him.

“Believe me, they’re real. A real fucking pain in the ass.” Tom grumbles sourly, hands resting on his hips. “What else do you know?”

“Just that they call themself Eris.” Neo softly mumbles, looking up at Tom from behind his glasses.

“And you found out all this on your forums?” Tom narrows his eyes while vaguely gesturing towards Neo’s monitors.

“Yeah, pretty much… I’ve been following it ever since the news broke. They’re going crazy.” Neo glances over his shoulder towards his monitors before returning his focus towards Tom when he is suddenly hit by a fresh wave of realisation.

“Hold on… you knew nothing? You mean, you’ve been chasing your tails for the last twelve hours?” Neo raises an eyebrow while barely managing to stifle a laugh.

“It’s been pretty fucking hard with the entire department’s network shut down!” Tom immediately snaps defensively. “What do you think I came here for?”

“Okay, I get it, you want my help.” Neo lets out a deep sigh, gently swaying his desk chair side to side as he bounces his leg and avoids Tom’s fierce gaze. “But Eris isn’t just some run-of-the-mill script bunny, we’re talking about a master. It’ll be virtually impossible to track down their identity.”

“So you’re telling me you can’t do it?” frustration seeps into Tom’s tone as he folds his arms across his chest and leans against Neo’s desk, causing the empty coffee mugs to rattle.

“I didn’t say that.” Neo perks up and straightens himself in his desk chair as if trying to shake off the weight of his own self doubt. “Listen, I’ll try, okay? But I can’t guarantee that I’ll find anything. You’re asking me to find a ghost.”

“Even ghosts can leave traces, Neo.” Tom offers Neo a firm, encouraging pat on his shoulder before dragging himself back over to the worn two seater couch. Exhausted after a long, stressful shift and subdued by the vodka, Tom collapses onto the cushions horizontally.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

The faint click of keys is broken by the sharp hiss and pop of another energy drink opening as Neo scours forum after forum. The glow from the monitor is the only source of light in the room as he reads through endless streams of contradictory information and preposterous conspiracies. His attempts to reach out to fellow hackers has been predictably futile — dead ends, dismissals and wild goose chases.

When the deep repetitive rumble of snoring begins to flow through the room, Neo glances back at Tom, who is passed out cold with his arm dangling off the side of the couch. With a huff, Neo shoves his headphones on and blasts The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails loud enough to drown out the sound.

Hours pass, punctuated by the clicks of his keyboard. His head feels foggy from exhaustion and the streams of meaningless data he has sifted through. But then, a pattern begins to emerge from a series of recurring orders of high-end custom encryption software from underground markets, all linked with the same digital fingerprint. A breadcrumb trail. His heartbeat quickens as he runs the information through a data-mining algorithm, leading him deeper down the rabbit hole. That’s when he finds it — an encrypted communication between Eris and a known cyber dealer.

The message is brief but reveals a meeting took place just a few hours ago at a local coffee shop, finally giving Neo a physical location to place the illusive hacker. With his pulse hammering, Neo hacks into the security cameras and pulls up the footage for the exact hour the meeting was scheduled.

Neo’s fatigued eyes scan the pixelated footage, searching for the possible suspect. His breath catches at the sight of a woman wearing a leather trench coat, walking with a confident stride. She tosses a newspaper on a table occupied by a hooded figure, before sliding into the chair opposite. Neo zooms in, every detail sends a jolt through him — her pretty face, subtle confidence, the quirk of her brow, the way her middle finger traces the rim of her coffee cup.

She’s perfect. So perfect and stunning.

Neo’s heart throbs, for once, it’s not due to the obscene amounts of caffeine in his system. A mixture of fascination and desire floods through his body and the hunt for the high-profile hacker slips to the back of his mind. He loops the footage, letting his mind drift until something in the video yanks him back to reality. He watches the man hand her a nondescript disc. After a brief inspection, she slips a thick wad of cash into his waiting palm in return.

Neo shakes his head, in an attempt to clear the haze of desire clouding his judgment. He replays the footage again, rewatching the exchange several times, until there is no doubt in his mind that she is the one he has been searching for.

Neo slumps back into his chair, defeated and elated all at once. He hadn’t expected this. Not only is she brilliant, elusive and smart but also gorgeous. It’s not fair. Staring at the frozen image on the screen, his mind races. The initial plan to assist Tom vanishes in a wave of wild impulse. Eris isn’t just another faceless criminal anymore. She is no longer a mystic ghost that exists only in the depths of endless conspiracies on hacker forums. Now, she is real, tangible and absolutely captivating. Neo knows he can’t just give her up.

“Fuck.” he groans, pulling off his glasses and burying his face in the palm of his hands with his elbows resting on the few clear spaces left on his cluttered desk. He tries to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Neo hears a faint grumble. His head snaps up, panic surging through him. He nearly gives himself whiplash with how fast he turns to look behind him. Tom, in a half-dazed state, sprawled on his stomach, his cheek pressed against the cushions and his arm dangling off the side of the couch, is just barely starting to come to his senses.

“N- Nothing… just…” Neo’s tone wavers with panic, his jittery fingers scramble to urgently close the security footage. He feels his face flush as he blurts. “I was… uh… I- I was watching porn.”

Neo freezes, his eyes widen and his face pales after those words leave his mouth without a trace of forethought as he wonders, out of all the possible excuses, why the fuck did he say that?

Still half-asleep, Tom huffs as he sits up, groaning at the throbbing ache in his skull from his hangover. He pauses, trying to process Neo’s words.

“You were… what?”

“I- I mean, no, I wasn’t—”

“Neo, are you being fucking serious?” Tom growls, his voice raising, along with his stress and frustration, his expression hardens with disbelief. “You’re telling me, instead of tracking down the hacker, like I told you to, you’ve been sitting there jacking off — while I’m right here! — like some kind of fucking creep. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“No! It’s not like that!” Neo pitches in desperation, his cheeks blazing red, realising what a freak he just made himself out to be.

“I haven’t got time for your bullshit excuses, Neo. I’ve got to get back to the station and do some actual police work.” Tom shoots up from the couch and paces, distractedly checking his pager for any updates from the department. “I should’ve known better than to trust some wannabe hacker, you can barely make it in the virtual criminal world on your damn computer, never mind the real world. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Neo jolts in his chair at the slam of the door, surprised it’s still on its hinges with the way Tom roughly swung it shut behind him after storming out. He knows Tom is stressed, frustrated, and hungover — a toxic combination — but that doesn’t soften the sting of his cruel words. They cut deep, no matter how much Neo tries to tell himself that Tom probably didn’t really mean them.

“Well done, Neo.” he mutters bitterly to himself, the sound of his own voice barely above a whisper in the now-empty room.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

Neo is fully aware that what he is planning to do isn’t exactly sane or rational. After Tom stormed out, he spent hours combing through more of the security footage, discovering that you frequent the coffee shop almost daily. You always settle in the little nook by the alcove window, overlooking the bustling city streets, with the same order: a coffee and panini. Now, on impulse, he has decided to visit the café himself, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in person.

Water droplets cling to his freshly showered skin, trickling down his pale frame in slow, meandering paths. A dark towel is wrapped securely around his hips, where faint tufts of dark, coiled hair peek out from beneath the terry cloth on his lower abdomen. He rifles through a haphazard pile of clothes on the floor, lifting several shirts to his nose, inhaling deeply before discarding them, searching for the freshest one.

Neo trails his sunken eyes over his reflection in the smudged mirror, a shaky breath escaping his moistened lips at the sight. His jittery fingers pat down his slicked back hair, pushing stray strands into place. The contact lenses — a change from his usual glasses — feel heavy on his tired eyes, sharpening the fuzzy edges of the world around him.

The sight of himself so neat and put together feels strange and offbeat — like a Halloween costume, if the costume was ‘Normal Guy.’

When Neo arrives at the coffee shop, he makes a sensible choice and orders decaf. He is jittery enough without the added rush of more caffeine racing through his veins. This coffeehouse isn’t his usual haunt — he tends to stick to instant coffee at home — but he can understand why you like it here. The cozy warmth and hushed ambiance even manage to unwind some of the tension coiled inside him as he settles at your usual table, the one tucked away in the nook by the alcove window. He hopes you’ll glance over to check if your favourite spot is taken — and see him. That would be enough. Then he will know you’re aware of his existence. Neo’s plan doesn’t extend much further than that for now.

The coffee, however, sits untouched as Neo anxiously taps his foot, his focus flicking between the door and the clock on the wall. His unsettled heart spasms with every chime of the door — half longing, half fretting — that it might finally be you, stepping over the threshold.

He wipes his palms on his dark jeans, feeling the contact lenses prick against his tired eyes.

Then the door chimes again.

Neo’s breath hitches. His heart leaps.

As soon as he lays his eyes upon you, the world ceases her rotation. The hushed chatter, clattering mugs and hissing steamer blur into a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of his throbbing heart against his ribcage. You step through the door, carrying yourself with effortless confidence that, to him, seems otherworldly. There’s something magnetic about you, every cell in his body feels the tug, luring him toward you.

You haven’t noticed him. Not yet. But you will.

Suddenly, there’s too much saliva pooling in his mouth, he swallows thickly, desperately trying not to choke and make a fool of himself. His fidgety fingers twitch, reaching for his untouched coffee cup just to keep them occupied and anchor himself. He fears he might float away, like an untethered balloon, if he doesn’t hold onto something solid.

It’s an overused expression, but he truly can’t believe his eyes. You’re real, standing right there, only a few feet away. Adrenaline surges through his quivering body, sending his pulse into overdrive. His thoughts glitch and stutter, suspending him over a chasm of indecision, caught between yearning to get closer and the impulse to crawl under the table before you notice him.

Before Neo has the chance to do either, the door chimes once more.

His eyes widen at the sight of Tom following behind you.

What the hell is he doing here? What the hell is he doing with you?

His mind floods with questions that twist his anxious stomach into knots. Did Tom figure out who you are? Has he caught you already? It doesn’t look like he’s arresting you. Perhaps he is just questioning you.

Panic coils around Neo’s heart like barbed wire, his fingers tighten around the coffee cup. Neo’s eyes bounce between you and Tom, trying to piece together an explanation, but it only leaves him more confused, more anxious.

This doesn’t make any sense.

His heart hammers against his ribs, dangerously hard, as Tom leans in, speaking to you in a way that’s far too casual, far too familiar. Neo’s mind spirals. Tom doesn’t look suspicious of you — he doesn’t seem suspicious of anything. In fact, he almost seems… apologetic.

The detective's lips move with words Neo desperately wishes he could hear, he wants to know what makes you stop and listen. Neo gulps, trying to force the air trapped in his throat back down to his lungs as he watches you process Tom’s words. Whatever he said, causes the faintest smile to tug at your lips, and Neo feels an unfamiliar twist in his chest, bitter and sharp.

It only worsens when he watches a rare curve appear on Tom’s usually rigid face. Since when does Tom smile like that? It’s all because of you…

You’re… amazing. Neo knows that for certain now, you had to be to crack someone as hard as Tom. That’s why Neo is so drawn to you, your power, your allure. No one else possesses the power to soften a man like Tom. No one but you.

But what do you see in him? Jealousy coils tighter in Neo’s gut, while his admiration for you grows with every second. You’re remarkable, strong, gorgeous, untouchable. And Tom? He doesn’t deserve any of it. He doesn’t deserve your smile, your time, your company. Neo hates it.

His jaw tightens when Tom pays for your order. What do you do to him? Tom isn’t charmed by just anyone. Neo’s thoughts churn, his unsettled mind runs in circles and his grip on the coffee cup tightens as he watches, helpless, waiting for the pieces to fall into place. But the puzzle remains a mess.

Then, your eyes shift.

Neo’s heart stumbles and drops like a rock and your gazes lock. His body freezes and his tumbling heart quivers with a racing pulse. No… no, no, no…

You saw him.

Neo quickly diverts his attention, but it’s too late. That one moment, your eyes locking, that was enough. An icy shiver crawls down Neo’s spine, melting at the base as dread seeps into his veins. She caught me staring? What must she think?

Neo’s chest tightens as you lean closer to Tom, he can’t hear your words, but the way you nod subtly in his direction makes his throat go dry. You’re telling him. You told him. Panic spreads like wildfire as Neo’s eyes dart around, wondering how quickly he could bolt to the exit without making a scene, but before he can act, Tom turns. The soft smile is gone, replaced by the sharp, hardened look Neo is more familiar with.

Tom’s gaze lands directly on him. Oh fuck. Now you’re both looking at him.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

⋆｡°✩ Note: I’m sorry this part is very reader lite but don’t worry reader is in the next part from start to finish and I’ll introduce the third mystery keanuverse character! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it enough to come back for more! VOLUME 002 will be posted in November!

[treedaddypuff]

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Imagine being kidnapped by Tom Ludlow.

Hmm, I'm guessing that you are referring to a yandere Tom? Or is it Canon Tom?

Canon Tom doesn't seem to be the type, but maybe to protect the reader from any other criminal or group she got involved with? Maybe a witness, maybe a target. The department isn't doing a great job. He knows it's corrupt, so he might take things into his hands. He would be sweet and respectful, I think. There will, of course, be boundaries for the reader until he solves the issue, but I don't see Canon Tom having any malicious intent, his ways are very grey and often wrong but his intentions aren't. but I think it would take a lot to get to that state for Canon Tom. Maybe a threat to his and the reader's lives.

Now, I'm not sure if I can do justice to this but here is my take on Yandere Tom.

He is a cop already, he knows the ways of criminals, from the bottom to the top. He is experienced, he has tasted the dirt and even gotten his hands dirty. I think Yandere Tom kidnapping the reader would take some time. Perhaps that would be him snapping, or last resort?

Either way, it's not a favourable situation for the reader because Tom knows how to cover up his tracks. maybe he is the one even leading the investigation of a 'missing' reader, who most probably will end up 'dead' to the world. So if the reader wants to escape, she needs to be smart about it. he knows everything related and relevant to her and his plans better than anyone else. So if anything even goes haywire, he is prepared, which is scary in this situation.

Tom is not dumb, he is brains and brawl so she should take a slow game. I think Yandere Tom would be overprotective and very possessive? he is not delusional, he knows that what he is doing is wrong, but I think he is the type to acknowledge that he is selfish wrong and messed up, but it's still better than letting the reader slips away.

Maybe this is what made him take the extreme step of kidnapping her but yes, he knows his charms, and he isn't reserved about using his charms and trying to win the reader but when the situation calls for it, he can be frightening as well. I think his anger would be the stuff of nightmares, but I do not think he would ever lay a finger on her. But he is not afraid to use force-- tying the reader for 'her own good',, locking her in a room and maybe even drugging her if things go to extremes. So, an upfront war with someone who can easily cover his tracks and has planned through it is not going to work, the reader should get to know his mind first.

I do not know if the analysis is accurate, I haven't watched the movie and most of my analysis is based on the brilliant fic written by @johnwickb1tsch and @treedaddymcpuffpuff 'Excessive Force'. Amazing fic, has me hooked. I think they can answer this better. What do you think @treedaddymcpuffpuff and @johnwickb1tsch?

[chimayra]

Guyss I have an idea can someone please write one shot or a fic of John Wick x f!reader or Tom Ludlow x f!reader that sounds like this song??? Omg it's not a want it's a need! It sounds soo naughty and sexy 😭😭♥️ like you both play a game about your relationship or something like that I don't know how to explain you have to listen to it and you will understand the vibe. By the way please tag me if you write it, I wanna read. 😩

[d3adbr3inc3lls]

->Fanfic masterlist<-

Requests are always open!! Masterlist may take ages to update...

Characters I've written for: Amethio, Onyx, Spinel, Agate, Friede, Liko, Kieran, Chairman Rose & Tom!Peter Parker

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Chairman Rose x Reader Celebrating Christmas (Spinel, Amethio, Silver, Kieran, Alain, Friede)

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Onyx+Spinel with the internet Father Figure!Emmett

Spider-Man related:

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Oneshot

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Pre-Exam Stress

Call of Duty related:

Birthday Headcanons (Spinel, Onyx, Amethio, Kieran, Alain, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Vladimir Makarov.)

Makarov x M!Reader

-Info-

Note- Feel free to write requests in Russian, I can read Russian but mg HCs/Fic would still be in English,

I write for almost any pokemon characters alongside any Spider-man,

Note- My page is NOT a safe space for fake disorder kids (let's face it, no normal adult will fake a disorder), so be prepared to be blocked if you're a ""system"" without trauma or any other bs.

Regular DNI criteria here aswell, (no zoophiles, MAP, proshippers, etc),, I don't like to state my DNIs, but I'm adding them here just so people know I'm not a safe space for everyone.

Last updated 29/03/2025

[johnwickb1tsch]

M A S T E R L I S T

( most y/n fics are fem gender but [attempted] no real mention of specific appearance, race, body type) ✨️=COMPLETE!

J O H N W I C K

BITTERSWEET - Yandere!John x fem!reader coffee shop au All Chapters 🔴AU spinoff ft Jack Traven & Tom Ludlow The Night Nurse - John x Helen CH 1 │ CH 2 │ CH 3 │ CH 4 │ CH 5 │ CH 6 │ CH 7 │ CH 8 CH 9. CH 10. │ A03 you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) - John x Helen'sSister!Reader fic │ Part 1 │Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 A03 THE DEVILS' TRIANGLE - Tex Johnson x Reader x John Wick (x Constantine) Yandere Collab with the diabolical @treedaddymcpuffpuff & @sweetwolfcupcake *so many dead doves here be warned...* Original Imagine COVER Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5. Part 6 Part 7. Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

enigmatic stranger - young!john wick x fem!reader collab fic w sweetwolfcupcake & treedaddymcpuffpuff pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

bodyguard!Wick x shy!curvy!student!fem!Reader fic✨️

LESSONS IN ANATOMY - a yandere art professor Wick x model muse! reader AU chapter 1/->chapter map

john wick x reader x helen threesome imagine

John x Helen'sSister!Reader Imagine✨️

John Wick x Tarasov'sDaughter!Reader Imagine✨️

Constantine x Reader x John Wick Imagine✨️

Young!John Wick & Model!Reader Imagine part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4✨️

John x Wife!Reader Fix it Imagine✨️

gentleman john wick headcanon✨️

just a warm up drabble✨️

assassin!Reader x John Wick fic outline

When John Met Helen fic outline

J O H N C O N S T A N T I N E

THE GIRL NEXT DOOR- Constantine x Vampire!Reader (ft John Wick/BRZRKR) + Don John Fic ALL CHAPTERS ✨️COMPLETE!✨️-- BONUS: the deleted scene

young!Constantine x witch!Reader imagine in India Pt 1

Constantine x Vampire!Reader Neighbor Imagine✨️

D O N A K A M A R K

Sympathy for the Devil - Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic ALL CHAPTERS

rager. a donaka mark x reader x john wick oneshot. 6500 words.

business arrangement - a Donaka Mark x stripper!Reader AU - 3500 words

Donaka Mark x MartialArtist!Reader Imagine ✨️

Donaka Mark x Secretary!Reader Imagine✨️

T O M L U D L O W

EXCESSIVE FORCE - Tom Ludlow x Nurse!Reader collab w the AMAZING @treedaddymcpuffpuff CHAPTER MAP

D O N J O H N

THE BASTARD'S MISTRESS - a don John x servant!Reader fic✨️

J A C K T R A V E N

break me, softly - a Jack Traven x fem!NurseReader fic✨️

F R A N K

Vino Veritas - A Frank x Reader Destination Wedding Fic PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 EPILOGUE ✨️NOW COMPLETE!😛✨️ CHAPTER MAP

K E V I N L O M A X🔥

peep toe pumps - a kevin lomax x femSecretary!reader fic✨️

P A U L S U T T O N

Andar Conmigo - A Walk in the Clouds Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John Fic Chapter Map bonus: don john's charro suit ✨️complete!✨️

N E O

naughty neo x reader drabble✨️

T E X J O H N S O N

🌻Small Town Girl ~ a Tex Johnson x Reader fic (Donnie Barksdale mentioned) Pt 1 Pt 2

D O N N I E B A R K S D A L E

US Marshall!Reader x Donnie Barksdale revenge fic snippet

S H A N E F A L C O

🐚🧜‍♀️⛵Shane Falco x mermaid reader AU

C O N O R O ' N E I L

oral agreement - you make a bet w Conor drabble 🤭

BOTS

-Donaka Mark - He's your security consultant.

-Donaka Mark - You meet on a yacht.

-Donaka Mark - He's your best friend's dad...

-Martin Loader - He wants to run away with you. (From Tune In Tomorrow)

-Dhampir John Wick (based on The Girl Next Door) He thinks you're his reincarnated wife Yelena...

[fernpetals]

Good Cop, Bad Cop VII

Masterlist

Part 1 Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Yandere Tom Ludlow x Reader

Warning: Implied stalking and misuse of police authority

GIF is not mine, credit to the owner of the GIF

Unedited Piece

You do not go out often,  but it has been a while since you got to catch your breath and you needed to unwind. So here you are, at the bar with your friends, without a care about the world around you, because you are not the one driving tonight. All you need to do is make sure that your wallet does not weep and that you are not wasted drunk. Just, tipsy-drunk maybe?

But the drinks flowing in, some food and the laughter grows almost hysterical. For once, you let yourself believe that the world is a happy place to be.

By the end of the night, Lenna remains the only relatively sober one in the group. You are not oblivious to the environment, but you walk cautiously, hoping not to fall into a puddle and embarrass yourself.

The road back to Lenna’s place is relatively quiet and without much traffic—-it’s a sleepover and you are tired.

“Hey is that—” Lenna’s words are cut off by the loud siren behind the car. You blink away the sleepiness and sit up, alert.

“Were you speeding or something?” You ask her, glancing at the backseat, the rest of the bunch are barely awake.

Both of you flinch at the urgent knock at the car window. It takes you a while to adjust your vision to the flashing of red and blue and the tipsy haze. But you cannot hold your gasp at the sight of Detective Ludlow outside the car. He gestures for you to roll the glass down and without a second thought, you do.

“Eh—Officer Ludlow?”

He ignores you and glances at Lenna instead “Are you drunk-driving, Miss?” “No?”

That sounds convincing.

“No? Seriously? Shall we test then?” “Officer, she’s—-”

You are cut off by his glare shifting to you.

“You should always have your guard up, I told you specifically to let me know if you are staying out late. And you stay out for so long, without updating me when there are—” He stops himself, glancing at Lenna before his hardened stare finds you again “And driving through these roads, clearly drunk. None of you are sober, it takes me a whiff to know.”

“Okay, okay. We are a little drunk, but we can drive fine. I’m sorry, officer. It slipped my mind. I thought I updated you.” You try to dissolve the situation.

“And yet here you are.”

“I—I thought you had a desk job?”

“I can take up any shift I please, that is not your concern.” He responds curtly and sighs, shaking his head “Come out, we can discuss this on our way back home.”

“Excuse me? I–I am going to my friend’s—”

“You are going back to your home, get out of the car.”

You blink. Are you hearing things? 

“Sir, I have plans for tonight.” You try to emphasise but he raises an eyebrow and leans closer. 

Maybe the glass should have stayed between you two—your heartbeat spikes at the proximity. He is not even that close—why are your cheeks warm?

“You either come out, or I am booking your friend for drunk driving.” He whispers and you realise that he is close enough for you to feel his breath. 

You open your mouth to counter but his stare tells you that he will follow through his words.

“What is happening?” Lenna asks you once you unlock the car door.

“Drive home safe Len, we will talk tomorrow, okay?” You nod at your confused friend before getting out of the car.

“But wait–(Y/N)...”

“I need to go home, I will call you tomorrow, promise. Drive safe.”

With that, you muster up a smile for her and shut the car door behind you before letting Tom lead you into his vehicle, still trying to wrap your head around what transpired moments ago. ****

The road scene has been inspired by Excessive Force. If you are suffering from a Ludlow brainrot like me, this is one of the best fics to eat up.

[discoscoob]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PHANTOM

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚ Tom Ludlow x Hacker!Reader x Neo Anderson

VOLUME 002

CW: fem!reader x mystery keanuverse character

Synopsis: You reconnect with an old college flame amidst the chaos of the cyberattack and navigate a web of suspicion and danger while trying to hide your involvement. 3.6k words.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

CHICAGO CITY POLICE STATION, 8:56 A.M.

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to get a bit of cooperation ‘round here?”

The familiar voice ripples through the air with a wave of nostalgia but is quickly swallowed by the rising tide of chaos. A torrent of voices swell and crash, merging with the static-laden chatter of the police radios into an unintelligible roar; only the occasional shout manages to surface before being swept away by the hectic current. The shrill cry of an unanswered phone cuts through, sharp and relentless, echoing like a buoy’s bell lost in a storm. Beneath the harsh fluorescent glare, officers wade through a sea of desks drowning under piles of manila files, while the faint smell of burnt coffee lingers in the air.

Special Agent Utah rests casually against your desk, transporting you back to your college days, when he was Johnny, the star quarterback at Ohio State and you were the awkward computer nerd that somehow got pulled into his orbit. Even amidst the whirlwind of chaos surrounding you, it’s impossible to resist gazing at the outline of his body and admiring how snuggly his fitted trousers hug his firm rear. Back then, your cheeks would’ve turned a blazing shade of red if he caught you staring, now the flash of his lopsided grin only encourages you.

“I thought you were avoiding me.” you disguise genuine doubt with a playful lilt. You had wondered if he even remembered you when he stepped into the department this morning. That scorching summer of your final term was etched into your memory, while for him, it might be a chapter he looks back on with reluctance.

Your paths should have never crossed. You were a solitary creature, usually found nestled behind a flickering screen in the campus library, while Johnny was out on the field making touchdowns, racing towards a promising future lit by stadium lights and roaring crowds. But then it all came crashing down on a buckled knee that shattered his aspirations. The future he had mapped out was ripped to shreds, and suddenly, he was stranded. All he knew was that he had to get good grades if he wanted to get anywhere. He needed a tutor and that’s where you came in.

What started out as awkward tutoring sessions gradually blossomed into something else, filled with stolen glances over textbooks and late-night talks that had nothing to do with what was on the syllabus. The memory of him leaning against your dorm room door frame, flashing that lopsided grin, flickers in the back of your mind like an old film reel. At the time, Johnny was nursing a broken heart too — his high school sweetheart had lost interest the moment his future in football vanished. But when he was with you, the weight of his frustrations seemed to melt away, and before long he started stopping by your dorm for reasons that had nothing to do with his grades.

By the time the leaves started to fall and a mellow breeze swept away the heat of summer, you parted ways without any hard feelings, knowing life was pulling you in different directions. Johnny set his sights on Quantico, chasing new dreams with the FBI Academy, while you were bound for Chicago. You shared a fleeting summer romance and left with the lingering memories that you keep tucked away like an old photograph.

“Avoiding you? Come on, Y/N, you know I always save the best for last.” that cocky smirk you remember all too well plays on his lips, as charming as ever, blasting away any lingering doubts. Even now your traitorous heart falls victim and thumps wildly in your chest at the sight.

“I’m last? Already?” you glance at your watch, genuinely surprised he managed to work his way through the whole department in just a couple hours.

“Yeah, they’re not a very talkative bunch.” Johnny’s frustration over the department's lack of cooperation sours his smirk into an irritated frown.

“You’d think they have something to hide.” you answer in a conspiratorial tone, referring to the cold shoulder he’s been getting all morning.

“Do they?” he asks, like any investigator instinctively would. His voice is warm with curiosity as he casually leans closer, folding his toned arms across his chest, his rolled shirt sleeves reveal sun-kissed forearms — evidence of his time spent under the Californian sun. So distractingly gorgeous, the sight stirs memories of his touch, warm and tender, on those hot summer nights. It’s almost dangerous. You hate to admit it, but you practically have to gulp back the urge to reveal all your secrets at once.

“That’s your job to find out, Agent Utah.” you tease, as tight-lipped as the rest of the department.

When the playful warmth fades from Johnny’s rousing gaze, clouding with the chill of something bitter, you assume you have disappointed him with your lack of cooperation — until you realise he is looking over your shoulder.

Following his gaze, you glance behind you. Detective Ludlow stands rigid, glaring as he watches Johnny casually lounge against your desk like he owns the place, talking to you with the familiarity of someone stopping by for a social call. The click of a stapler somewhere nearby punctuates the sudden heaviness in the air, and you can almost feel the tension sharpening around the three of you.

“Ludlow… right?” Johnny controls his features, offering Tom a curt nod as he pushes himself off your desk and slips his hands into his pockets. “I’m Special Agent Utah—”

“So the Bureau sent over a rookie to meddle in my investigation.” Tom’s sharp tone cuts through the hectic bustle of the station, scrutinising Johnny’s youthful appearance with a critical glare.

“I’m just here to help, Detective. Without cooperation you’re only going to make both our jobs a lot harder.” Johnny diplomatically responds over the steady hum of voices.

“You might need my help but I sure as hell don’t need yours. I’ve got this under control.”

“Really?” Johnny cocks his head, his tone laced with condescension. “‘Cause from where I’m standing it sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“I don’t need some fresh-faced Fed, who thinks he’s some big hotshot, telling me how to do my job. I was taking down bad guys when you were still wetting the bed.” Tom steps towards Johnny, his tone sharp with a rumbling edge. You blink, observing the hostile exchange from your desk chair, wondering if you should intervene.

“Yeah, I bet you were taking down bad guys left and right back in the day, old timer,” Johnny barely flinches when Tom looms closer, “but that was a long time ago and from the stench, it seems like the only thing you’re taking down these days is shots.”

Tom swallows thickly, struggling to bounce back from the impact of the brutal truth in Johnny’s stern words. Reluctantly, he retreats, his gaze flickers briefly in your direction, you catch a fleeting glimpse of the sorrow and torment whirling behind his hollow stare before it falls shamefully to the floor.

That brief glimpse triggers a pang in your chest you weren’t prepared for. Truth be told, Tom Ludlow intrigues you. You’ve heard whispers around the precinct about his past, how his wife died three years ago — before you ever set foot in the department. You never knew the man he was before everything fell apart. Sometimes, you try to imagine a man who’s not weighed down so heavily by his grief, not so hardened and bitter, not ensnared by his demons. You often wonder if that man still exists, buried somewhere deep inside him beneath the sorrow and torment, waiting for someone to pull him back to the surface.

When you first joined the department, a couple years ago, your role as a digital forensic analyst was still a relatively new one within law enforcement. You were stepping into a world where solving cases meant hitting the pavement, heading out into the streets to fight crime with badges and guns. To most officers, fighting crime from behind a computer screen was seen as a novelty, and Tom Ludlow was no exception. He didn’t exactly hide his skepticism; he would barely glance your way during briefings, convinced that your role couldn’t be considered real police work.

Despite the department's reluctance to accept you as an integral part of their team, you persevered. There were cases where your findings on a hard drive or some obscure email chain provided the breakthrough that all their street-level work couldn’t, and slowly, things started to shift. You remember a moment when Tom nodded at you, it was the closest thing to praise he had ever given you. Since then, he has been different. Dare you say he respects you now? But you knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of his cynicism.

“Ludlow! My office!” a sharp bark carries over the commotion, cutting through the tension and pulling your focus back into the moment. Everyone’s attention snaps towards the Captain, who’s standing halfway out his office. “Now!”

“Run along. Best not keep your Captain waiting.” Johnny’s brows quirk teasingly, his lips twitching with the barely concealed urge to quirk in amusement.

Tom’s jaw tightens and he shoots Johnny a snarling glare before shoving past him, his footsteps heavy as he trudges towards the Captain’s office.

You watch Tom go with an uneasy feeling burrowing deeper in your chest. He intrigues you, sure, but you’re still not certain if you can trust him.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

The L barrels along on the elevated tracks overhead, clattering like thunder as you weave through the swarm of pedestrians. Your boots click over the uneven pavement, splashing through shallow puddles lingering from yesterday’s storm. Even the congested streets of the city offer an appreciated reprieve from the suffocating environment of the hectic department.

The low autumn sun peaks between the high buildings, casting long shadows over the city — a welcome contrast to the harsh fluorescent lights, and you’d gladly accept the distant wail of sirens and honking horns over the incessant blare of the unanswered phones any day. But as much as you crave to free yourself from the burden that weighs you down, you know that no matter how far you walk, it will always follow.

Some would call it paranoia, but after the stunt you pulled you’d say your hyper-awareness is justified, albeit draining. You’re constantly on edge with a gnawing sensation that clings to your spine and never. lets. go. It’s exhausting, but you can’t sleep either. Every time a stranger glances in your direction, it feels like a threat. Eyes watching. Ears listening. Footsteps too close behind. You know you’re being wary, but it’s hard to ignore the feeling there’s a target on your back.

Of course, you knew the risks involved with such drastic measures, but you could think of no other alternative. You had to be cunning. You couldn’t just stand by, not with what you knew. Maybe if you’d given yourself more time, you could have come up with a different plan. But in that moment of distress, the cyberattack had seemed like the only way. A wildfire that would capture everyone’s attention, putting all eyes on the department. Everyone knows it’s harder to hide secrets when you’re the centre of attention.

With your knowledge and position in the department, covering your tracks was the easy part. But it doesn’t shake the feeling that someone will eventually catch up to you.

At least Johnny’s arrival brought you a semblance of relief, you had no idea that he would be the FBI agent assigned to the investigation, but it feels like a sign that you’re on the right path. Knowing there’s someone in the city you can trust, who might understand, gives you a flicker of comfort in the midst of all the chaos. But that comfort comes with a price. The last thing you want to do is make him a potential target too, the mere thought sends your gut sinking like a rock. So as much as you might want to, you can’t confide in him, to unburden some of the weight you carry. You can’t. The less he knows, the safer he’ll be — whether he likes it or not.

Above the low hum of the city, a voice calling your name pulls you from your spiraling thoughts and you spot Tom weaving through the crowd to catch up with you. What does he want? When your heavy sigh meets the brisk autumn air, a cloud fogs from your lips before the long-serving detective reaches your side.

“I’m on my lunch break, Tom.” you don’t even try to hide your irritation. There’s only a limited window of time for your lunch break and you’re someone who appreciates a healthy work-life balance.

“I know,” he replies, undeterred. “I just want to talk.” he falls into step beside you, walking over the collage of red, orange and yellow leaves that clump together on the damp pavement.

You glance at him, surprised by his persistence. He just wants to talk? Since when did Tom Ludlow speak to you outside of work? Sure, you may have earned his respect but as far as you were aware, your relationship didn’t extend much beyond solving cases and the occasional exchange of work-related pleasantries.

“Is it urgent? Can’t it wait ‘til I get back to the station?”

“I wanted to speak to you alone.”

“Why?”

“You and Utah looked pretty cozy earlier.”

That stops you in your tracks. Out of all the things Tom could have chased you across the city to talk about, this was the last thing you expected.

“What?” There’s a deep crease between your brows when you stare at him in disbelief. Rushed pedestrians brush past, muttering curses under their breath at you both for blocking their path.

“It seemed like you were hitting it off.” he avoids your gaze as he says this, like he’s trying to act nonchalant.

“Hitting it off?” you repeat the words slowly, like you’re trying to figure out what language he’s speaking. “He was asking me about the investigation.”

Of course, you aren’t going to mention your history with Johnny to Tom — there’s no reason for him to know about that. What happened between you and Johnny belongs in the past and it’s private. Besides, bringing it up now would only complicate things, and you’ve always been careful not to blur the lines between your personal and professional lives. This situation is already tangled enough.

“What did you tell him?”

You can tell Tom is trying to play it casual, to seem aloof. But there’s nothing casual or aloof about chasing you halfway across the city just to find out what you said to an FBI agent. He hides it well, but there’s an undercurrent of anxiety in his question, a tension that betrays his concern over what you and Johnny might’ve discussed.

“Why? Are you worried?” you ask, letting a faint chuckle escape your lips, breathy and light as if to disguise the weight of the question. If Tom is trying to mask his anxiety, you’re going to disguise your suspicion with humour. By the time the words are out, you’re already resuming your stride, mindful of the ticking clock. You’ve barely twenty minutes left to grab your lunch.

“You should be careful about what you say to him.” Tom answers after a pause, his voice hushed. It’s hard to decipher if this is a genuine warning bred from concern or a thinly veiled threat.

“What could I possibly say to him that’s got you so rattled you felt it necessary to chase me down through half the city… during my lunch break?”

the last part is punctuated with a grunt.

“I’m not rattled.” Tom snaps, but his tone betrays him. His brows furrowed, his jaw clenched tight. “You don’t know how much the Feds complicate things. We don’t need them sniffing around.”

“It wasn’t so long ago you would’ve said something similar about me.” you snort, reminding him of his reluctance to accept you when you first joined the department.

That hits the mark. A flicker of guilt passes behind his mahogany eyes, his gaze drops to the pavement. Neither of you have ever discussed the way he treated you since both of you were happy to sweep it under the rug and move on. Before he can find the power to muster a response, you brush past him and slip into the coffee shop on the corner.

You stride into the familiar comfort, the tension eases from your shoulders as the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries wafts welcomingly through the air, tempting you to treat yourself.

The chime of the door rings again as Tom steps in behind you, the cold air from outside drifts inside with him as his voice cuts above the comfortable ambiance. You tilt your head slightly, just enough to catch him in your peripheral vision as he lingers a step behind.

“I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did when you first joined the department. I was an asshole. But after a couple decades on the force, you become set in your ways. It’s hard to adapt.” his words are unexpected as they reach your ears, spoken in a rough tone, as if he’s torn between letting them go and holding them back. “And I can be a stubborn bastard. I gave you a hard time and you didn’t deserve it but I figured if I pushed you enough, you’d leave.” his gaze drifts to the floor, like he’s looking for the right words in the cracks between the floorboards. “It felt like everything I knew was getting pushed aside. So, yeah, I wanted you to leave. Because if you stayed, it meant I had to face the fact that things weren’t gonna be the same anymore. And I wasn’t ready for that.”

For a moment, everything fades away and it’s just the two of you. His apology lingers between you and the silence stretches as you let his words sink in. Many responses roll through your mind, but you don’t utter any of them, instead you say, “you know, if I left, they would’ve just replaced me with another digital forensic analyst.” a faint smirk tugs on the corner of your lips.

Your response draws a huff of laughter from Tom, a brief, relieved sound that seems to ease the tension in his shoulders. He almost looks grateful, like he appreciates that you didn’t dwell too much on the sentiment behind his apology and let the moment pass without making it something heavy.

“For what it’s worth… I’m glad you stayed.” the sincerity in his words catch you off guard, you can tell it’s not an easy admission for him, he’s not used to sharing sentiments. You suppose he has been pretty closed off emotionally ever since his wife passed, but for a brief moment, you feel like you’re getting a glimpse of the man he used to be, before the walls went up.

“Well, you know, I’m pretty stubborn too.” you fold your arms across your chest, proudly displaying the smirk on your lips with a raised chin.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Tom lets out a faint chuckle, shaking his head.

For the first time since you’ve known him, a real smile breaks through the usual hard lines of his face. It’s subtle, but genuine, softening the hardness in his features. His eyes, usually shadowed with a weariness you’ve grown accustomed to, seem lighter — like the clouds parting for just a moment.

The sight captivates you, like a rare total eclipse. The hardened detective having such a bright and boyish smile surprises you, catching you off guard. You realise you like his smile and mourn the fact that it’s such a rare sight.

You approach the counter in tandem with Tom, after you place your order for takeout, he takes it upon himself to pay, handing a ten dollar bill to the barista before you even have the chance to grab your own wallet.

“It’s the least I can do after gatecrashing your lunch break.” Tom shrugs, cutting through any protest you were about to make.

You’re unsure how to navigate this new dynamic that seems to have blossomed between the pair of you, over the span of a single lunch break. As Tom waits with you for your order, the silence stretches — not awkward, but untravelled. Your gaze drifts, searching for something to fill the silence, when you catch sight of a man sitting at your favourite table.

He’s staring. The moment your eyes lock, he swiftly averts his gaze, pretending to focus on something just past you. But it’s too late. The brief moment of connection hits you like a jolt. Those dark eyes weren’t just looking, they were assessing, lingering far too long to be random curiosity. The intensity of his gaze lingers, prickling along your skin and leaving you feeling unsettled with an icy weight in your chest. The unease that creeps over you, crawling down your spine warns you — something isn’t right. His deep irises pierce through your layers, it’s as if he knows more than he should, noticing something you have concealed from everyone else.

You glance away, trying to ignore the growing unease, but it stays with you, crawling under your skin. Is this paranoia again? Or is he a genuine threat? You instinctively lean closer to Tom, your voice barely above a whisper as you murmur, “that guy is staring.”

Tom, immediately on edge, follows your gaze towards the younger man tucked away by the nook. The tension around you thickens. Strangely, he almost looks relieved when his eyes land on the mysterious stranger. You catch an unmistakable flicker of recognition flash across his features, stirring your suspicions.

“You know him?”

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

⋆｡°✩ Note: thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Full disclosure, I have no idea when the final parts will be posted, I am not satisfied with what I have written so far for the next part and I am going on holiday on Monday so I won’t be writing for about a week. I’m hoping that the break will help and I’ll come back to it refreshed and with a new perspective!

[discoscoob]

Thank you for the tag 🫶

Favourite colour: Purple/periwinkle

Currently reading: Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao, Eleanor Oliphan is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman and Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Currently working on: A Marlon James fic also featuring Tom Ludlow called ‘Cops and Robbers’ and my bigger wip which is a Ted Logan / Kevin Lomax / Jack Traven fic but that one’s getting nowhere fast 😭

Tea or coffee: neither but if I have to pick then coffee but I drink it very rarely

Sweet, savoury or salty: savoury

Last series: Adolescence

Last song: Forever Young by Alphaville

Last movie: Feeling Minnesota

Craving: a shower

People I Want To Get To Know Better

Thank you for the tag @gea-chan96 🫶🏻

Favorite Color: Yellow

Currently Reading: The Book of Elsewhere by China Mieville and Keanu Reeves (I haven't finished it Imao)

Currently working on: like 4 different WIPs (B, Julian, Neo, Donnie)

Tea or Coffee: half unsweet and half sweet tea :3c

Sweet, Savory, or Salty: Salty then Sweet

Last Series: Tokyo Ghoul

Last Song: Without u (rock mix) (feat. Juuku) - Holywatr

Last Movie: Henry's Crime

Craving: White monster energy drink

I tag: @discoscoob and @orreur aaaand @misspsychotic :3c

No Pressure!!!

[sad-sad-times]

Did I spend the night writing Street King fanfiction instead of sleeping? Perhaps, it maybe 5 o clock in the morning but I have a Captain James Biggs smut fic so ya know, sacrifices.

James/Tom - Good?

Tom is jealous that the Captain got sucked off by that prostitute and so insists that he'd do a better job....

Warnings: smut, language, that good gay shit

Idk if you guys wanna be tagged or not but:

@thamberlinawrites @greghouse7

[fortheloveoffanfic]

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Keanu Reeves Characters:

John Wick (John Wick franchise, 2014-)

Tom Ludlow (Street Kings, 2008)

Jack Traven (Speed, 1994)

John Constantine (Constantine, 2005)

Julian Mercer (Something's Gotta Give, 2003)

Shane Falco (The Replacements, 2000)

Cillian Murphy Characters:

Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders, 2013-2022)

Jim (The Delinquent Season, 2018)

Chris Evans Characters:

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out, 2019)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob, 2020)

Frank Adler (Gifted, 2017)

Rahul Kohli Characters:

Hassan el Shabazz (Midnight Mass)

Napoleon Usher (The Fall of the House of Usher)

Keanu Reeves/Characters

Cillian Murphy Characters

Chris Evans Characters

Hozier

12 Days of Christmas Writing Event (2021)

Masterlist Page

*If the previously mentioned links do not work, a common occurrence on mobile, try "masterlist tag" in the search bar of my blog.

a03

✨ Updated weekly

Broken Chords: I Need My Girl. Hozier x reader. Summary: The aftermath and Y/n and Andrew’s close call in the car forces them to be vulnerable in a way they haven't in a long time. Warnings: Angst.

City of Second Chances. Hozier x reader. Summary: A year after the demise of their relationship, Andrew and Y/n reflect on what used to be. Warnings: Angst, brief mentions of SMUT.

[ladyreapermc]

MASTERLIST

Welcome to my brand new master list folks.

I write for: 

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, John Constantine, Johnny Utah, Jack Traven, Julian Mercer; Donaka Mark; Tom Ludlow)

Richard Madden (David Budd; Leo West)

Karl Urban (Leonard Bones McCoy, Reaper Grimm, Eomer, Vincent Stevens) I’m also open to write for McKirk

Sons of Anarchy (For Chibs and Jax and Juice)

Mayans Mc (for Angel; Ez and Galindo)

Unless specified as OFC, all my fics are reader-insert and any smut is signaled as such. If you want specific information on what kinks a specific smut fic has, I always give the highlights in my warnings for that piece. 

If you have other questions, my asks are always open. If you wanna drop by to just say hi and chat or ask something about a fic or even offer some constructive criticism, please feel welcome to do so.

I don't write for Henry or his characters anymore, but I can point you Towards some lovely blogs that still do.

KEANU REEVES AND CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

RICHARD MADDEN AND CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

KARL URBAN AND CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

SONS OF ANARCHY AND MAYANS MC MASTERLIST

BIRTHDAY CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

[janiedean]

Since we're in topic, do you have some advices for writers? Where do you begin when you write original stories and characters? The plot, the concept, the description of characters?

spewell considering that you’re talking to ‘oh hey I have the original idea that might work but I’ve been figuring it out for a whole year and a half’ take them with the necessary skepticism but since I did come up with some decent ocs in fic apparently my advice is probably not entirely shitty lol so with the premise that writing is Not A Science and other than reading a lot no advice is 100% foulproof especially if it doesn’t work for you...

I’d start with the concept, ie: what do you want your story to be about or what message do you want it to be about or what do you want to do with it. do you want to scare people? do you want to make people happy with quality entertainment but without writing a Serious Novel? do you want to write a sad thing to make a point? like, you need to know where you’re going with it in general;

when you have your concept, whichever it is - for one, without going in-depth let’s just say that my original novel concept that I’ve been trying to figure out for good is ‘blade runner meets high fidelity’ (don’t worry IT MAKES SENSE) -, you need to work at once both on main setting and protagonist. I mean, idk let’s just discuss a thing I wanted to write last year when I was thinking of sending original writing to this scifi anthology and then never managed because time and drama and real life happened and I couldn’t commit to it;

so, the theme of that anthology was ‘alternate peace’ ie write a short story where a situation that in history ended up in a fight/war/bloodbath is solved peacefully and write the alternate universe coming from it. so: I had to come up with the idea first because otherwise I wouldn’t have known where to start, then the worldbuilding, then the characters - ngl I think that if you have the worldbuild the characters come a lot easier but that’s me. so: I was like ‘what if I wrote something where the ludlow massacre never happens?’ (the ludlow massacre was tldr a strike in colorado which ended up with the strikers being mass killed by the national guard and in turned caused enough scandal to get unions/unionized labor a lot of traction in the US at least until maccarthysm.) then I didn’t, but in order I went like:a) if what happened is that it had repercussions on the history of unionized work in the US, if I did it so that the workers accepted a plea or smth and the rockfellers won without no one dying, those repercussions would Not Have Happened, nor it’d have created all the left-leaning literature/politics/thinking that came out of it, john reed wouldn’t have written about it etc, so I had elaborated an entire situation post-wwii where unions had all died long before, people were pretty much without any single social lifesaver and could get fired at will and it was basically dystopian hell with mccarthy being president or smth;b) at that point I was like, who do I put in this, and at that point I didn’t manage to go much forward but I had a feeling I should have some young person who was born after the not-massacre who had no idea of what went on talking to an older one that had actually been there and wished they hadn’t taken the deal;c) young dude would have been more or less cynical/not really much of a politics person, old dude would have been old school leftist who still wishes there could have been a better world and wishes the new generation would put two and two together and talk to their elders;d) young dude wouldn’t have known how to read/write because he wouldn’t have needed it for factory work, old dude would have etc;at that point I could have probably gone and gave them families (or not), or a friend (or not), and my general idea was having them discuss politics for the main part of the story, then old guy dies or smth like that and young guy actually gets the message and idk I basically wanted you to read it and feel like I felt when I listened to the ghost of tom joad, that was the general idea;that said, the characters were the last part i came up with because I needed the worldbuilding to know what character I wanted in it, which is why I’d say worldbuld first if you’re writing that kinda thing ie scifi, alternate history etc;

now, obv. if you’re writing the coffee shop au just in novel format or if you’re writing something lighter where the setting doesn’t matter, you need good characters first. I mean, if you write the coffee shop setting just to have a good love story you might want people to pick yours and not the umpteenth version of it with the same dynamic (same with the YAs with the sixteen year-old girl who thinks she’s ugly falling for the hot dude with abs and a bad attitude), so in that case I’d go for the characters. for one, if I had to write a YA, I’d make it with a girl who is actually ugly and has hobbies other than just reading and maybe plays in the school band or has some peculiar post-school job or idk can repair cars but is not good at everything she does and the guy would be moderately hot though not THE SPIT COPY OF DAMON SALVATORE JUST WITH GREEN EYES, he wouldn’t have a license and he wouldn’t think that it’s sexy to tell your girlfriend that you own her, and while I’m nowhere near interested in writing YAs, that would differentiate it from 99,9% of the YAs around from what I see, and so at that point I’d make sure I got the main two down and then I’d work on the friends and family and make them less stereotypical as possible so my YA is different from everyone else’s YA, and if any of them is a supernatural creature they suck at it and hate having supernatural magic and the likes. I mean, you want your characters to have a personality, but if you have a good worldbuilding behind them it might come after, if you don’t gaf about the worldbuilding and just want the standard setting work on the characters and try to give them depth before you plan anything else;

figure out where do you want your story to go before writing it - ie: the only reason I haven’t written the original yet is that idk what kind of spin I want the ending to have and I’m not 100% convinced so I’m not doing it yet, but if you don’t have the backbone of it planned then you’re going to lose steam or the plot will fuck you over (in my experience). like, try to have at least clear what happens in the main arc so that you know how to get from beginning to ending without needing to figure shit out as you go along, then you start, and if you change your mind while you do go with it, but try to start it knowing where you’re headed because it makes it easier imvho;

if you go for complicated shit like time travel figure that shit out before you start writing it including every possible repercussion because you’ll hate yourself if you don’t;

don’t try to re-do what others did obviously. I mean, if I wanted to write rep for non standard attractive cishet women I would not try to re-write brienne of tarth just changing the hair color. I would try to take the same tropes he’s using, change the setting and go with it, but it shows if you read a book and your character is the exact same as your favorite writer’s. like, if you read ian tregillis’s milkweed tryptich it’s going to be obvious that one of the main characters is the same tropes as jaime but that guy has enough personality differences and an enough different background and circumstances of upbringing that while you can see it has the same basics (generally nice guy forced to do horrid things who wants to redeem himself, live without his overbearing sister who wants to control him and has a generally straight moral compass), you don’t think ‘oh ian tregillis who is grrm’s friend has copied from him and put jaime lannister in a wwii alternate history trilogy’. like, we all have our tropes and our favorite writers and it’s good to take inspiration and homage them, but try to give your spin on those tropes you’re using, because otherwise it’ll just look lazy;

do whatever the fuck you want with your plot. don’t think about what others would want to read - it’s your story and you should tell it the way you want to. then please listen to criticism and find people who’ll provide it for you without tearing down your work but telling you what works and what doesn’t, but like... if you want to touch some themes or write characters from a different background or whatever do it;

also, do your research. I mean, I could have written the ludlow massacre story because:a) I read all of john reed’s articles pertaining to that specific happening and those articles include interviews with the people who were there, a description of who they were, an extremely detailed reconstruction of the facts and so on;b) there’s folk songs, two novels and one opera on ludlow not including history books, so it’s not only easily readable upon, but you also can see the impact it had in media/the american culture.so, even if I’m not american, having read all of that, I could have probably gone for it and done a decent job, find someone with a history degree to veto it and go for it. but like, again, unless you’re writing the coffee shop au or the ya or the kind of novel that does not require an established setting or you are making the entire worldbuilding up from scratch with no influences from the real world, you can’t not do at least some basic research. and when reading something, it does show if the author has at least done basic research or if they’re winging it. then they might be good enough that you don’t care they’re winging it, but still, research XD because research also gives you a lot more ideas that you might not have taken previously into account and might save you a plot detail or so;

I also would advice not to write what you know - because that’s easy and it doesn’t let you go out of your comfort zone and at some point what you know will finish -, but: write something you know. as in, my blade runner + high fidelity au should be scifi and touch stuff idk shit about, but since it’s a high fidelity au half of it is supposed to be set in a (pseudo) record shop and the protagonist miiiiiight have a thing or a hundred for springsteen. now: who has spent half of her life in record shops and is into bruce? yes, me. now, the character in question has zero in common with yours truly except for that, but let me tell you that if there is one thing I know how to write that you can’t convince me I couldn’t write is someone into springsteen who hangs around record shops. I know my people and I know why someone would be into springsteen. like, when making up characters and you want to make them relatable or you want to relate to them more, give them one thing you can relate to even if it’s dumb - idk you like strawberries? that character also likes strawberries and so on - because that will get you closer to them and your reader will feel it. it’s a thing I do with fanfic all the time - like if I have to try and write someone IC I try to relate to one thing they have if I can, because that makes the characters more relatable and it’s easier. ie when I was like ‘how do I crack the jaime pov’ the answer was ‘ALL THE BAD SELF-DEPRECATING HUMOR YOU DO ALL THE TIME GO DOWN ON IT’ bc that’s what I relate to jaime for and so on. idk that is a thing that’s always helped me when coming up with any character so I guess it might be useful advice? *shrug*

(obv: if you’re writing a 100% bad guy that you don’t empathize with then you don’t have to, I mean grrm did say he had to take a shower after writing chapters from A Certain POV because it’s horrible being in their head so like.... you can feel disgust at what you’re writing esp. if it’s the POV of a terrible person, but That Character resonated with people and felt relatable to some of them because to them they had... RELATABLE moments/humane moments too so if you’re writing bad guys but try to not make them cardboard cuts/TOO HORRIBLE it will make them stronger as *bad guys*. mvho.)

but mostly: read a lot of stuff, try to put your spin on things and don’t gaf about what people think until you finished it. then you can worry about concrit xD

[malkaleh]

OT3 Fic Snippets Expanded 

“No, stay like that” Henry says and he can see a slight blush on Tom’s skin as he settles himself back into the window seat. Henry stands a moment, just watching this man he loves so much - Tom had thrown aside his customary high necked black robes and chain and had been sitting reading in his undershirt and hose - the sunshine picking up the shine in his black hair. Henry finds himself transfixed between the desire to simply watch and drink in the other man or to walk closer to him, to run his hand through the other mans hair as he kisses him. 

“You are so very lovely, Tom” and Henry shakes off Tom’s denials with a firm look. 

-

The children are all around them on this beautiful day - Elizabeth, every inch the perfect princess at fourteen is reading, her checks still flushed from riding earlier. Her brother Thomas is by her side, excitedly recounting his first few months at Ludlow while George, their curly haired Duke of York is throwing a ball to one of the family puppies and William and Margaret (who have always had trouble sitting still) are play fighting with toy swords while Owen sits by his mother watching the new babies with intense concentration. 

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