Part One: Featuring Matt, Ted Logan, Marlon James, Johnny Utah and don John.
Matt: Ghostface and Casey
Okay I know that Ghostface and Casey weren’t a couple in the movie but to me Casey is one of the more recognisable/iconic characters from the movie, despite her limited screentime. I couldn’t think of Matt as anything other than Ghostface and I can’t imagine him putting a lot of effort into a costume, Ghostface is simple, easy and cheap which is exactly what he’d go for.
Ted: Shaggy and Velma/Mary Jane
Would I even be me if I didn’t sneak some Scooby characters into here? I couldn’t decide whether to go with Velma or Mary Jane for reader so you can choose! Of course Velma would be more iconic but Shaggy and Mary Jane were an actual couple. Ted just has Shaggy energy in my opinion and it’d be a really effortless costume for him.
Marlon James: Joker and Harley
Maybe it’s annoying and overdone but I just thought Marlon looks scruffy enough to me to dress as Joker. However I did consider Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann but I thought that a full pirate outfit might be out of his budget, whereas he can get some white face paint, steal some of your lipstick and mascara and put some green hair spray dye in his hair and dig out an old suit he probably bought at goodwill for a court appearance and that’d be a lot cheaper for him. You’d definitely end up carrying the look here.
Johnny Utah: Barbie and Ken
Ken does beach and Johnny does beach (and FBI on the side) honestly as long as you’re wearing pink Johnny could probably wear anything and just be happy to be with you.
Don John: The Phantom and Christine
Modern AU… don John loves theatrics and dressing up, he wants to be the best dressed couple of the night, he’s not looking for an effortless or cheap costume, he wants to make sure you’re both turning heads. Will stay in character the whole night… even when you’re alone after the party.
Part two: featuring Jack Traven, Donnie Barksdale, Julian Mercer, Kevin Lomax and Constantine coming next…
Premise: You and Ted share your first pumpkin patch outing together and return home with more than just a few pumpkins…
Tags: fluff, sweetheart!ted, after excellent before bogus!ted, Halloween activities ensue, short but sweet.
Words: 1.1K
A/N: This is apart of my KeanuWeen event, I am using the prompt “Pumpkin Patch”. Join our community here to see more community wide events!
Crisp bursts of orange and red leaves crunch under your shoes, your hand warmed despite the chill of the October air by your lovely boyfriend, Ted. He walks in a pair of tattered old blue jeans and his brilliant orange jacket that matches the leaves. He sees you admiring him, a soft smile on your face. He flips his shaggy, dark hair about, and smiles that big goofy grin of his before checking in on you.
“You liking our totally rad date so far?” He nods excitedly as he speaks.
You can’t help but blush at his dorky behavior. You and Ted haven’t been dating long, and even though some people may be put off by his laid-back skater attitude, you admire him for his realness. You know if you ask him anything you’re going to get an honest answer, and truly, you don’t think he could lie very well if he tried. Having that security relaxes you beyond belief.
“I’m having an amazing time so far, Ted.” You pause your walk to turn to him, your old sneakers lifting to their tiptoes as Ted leans down to meet you for a quick kiss, his lips soft and kind.
“I’m so stoked to see the pumpkins,” he admits with a grin after your lips part. “I wanna get two really big one’s for us to carve out, I wanna put our bands logo on mine!”
“Oh really? Well, I’m sure we’ll find one that’s like totally, what’s that word you like to say,” You pause, trying to remember. “Bonafide?”
Ted laughs, the kind of laugh that comes from your core, when you find something to be really outrageously funny.
“No, bodacious! Like, you’re a totally bodacious babe for saying that.” He laughs as he corrects you, and you can’t help but find yourself laughing along.
The two of you continue to walk hand in hand, the farm the pumpkin patch is on coming into view. The golden light of the late afternoon bathes the farm in warmth, the fall colors bright and gorgeous. The lazy wind rustles the leaves that snake between your feet, and you watch as other couples and families arrive to find their own perfect pumpkins. You consider just what you’re going to put on yours as you pass through the gates to the farm.
Kids laugh as they run through the pumpkin patch, tiny shoes barely missing green vines and orange, round pumpkins ripe for the taking. Others pick their choices up, weighing their options literally as they decide which will be their prized pumpkin for the night. You wander through the patch aimlessly with Ted, meandering here and there, laughing at funny shaped ones and considering others.
“Look at this one! It, like, totally resembles Bill’s dad!” He picks up a small, bumpy yellow gourd and you have to admit, it does kind of look like Bill’s dad now that he mentions it.
You see a particularly large pumpkin, and you bend down to inspect if it has the proper proportions and orangeness, when you hear a faint meow from behind.
A tiny black and white farm kitten has nestled up behind the pumpkin, greeting you as you come near.
“Oh. My. God.” You say, hardly believing your eyes.
Ted’s head flicks up from where he’s looking as he hears you exclaim, and he bounces over to you with wonder.
“What’s up, babe?” He says, tilting his head in confusion and making his scruffy hair fall into his eyes.
“Ted, you’re not going to believe this.” You say as you scoop up the kitten and slowly turn around to reveal him.
“Woah! That’s totally excellent!” He comes closer, his big puppy dog brown eyes softening and his large hands slowly inching closer.
“I know!” You whisper with excitement as the sleepy kitten curls up against your chest where you gently pet him.
Ted lets the back of his fingers gently stroke the cat’s fur, and the kitten turns to him, looking up at him with big, newly green eyes.
“Oh man, can I hold him?” Ted’s voice is full of excitement that he’s thinly containing, trying to be as quiet as possible.
You lift the kittens warm little body, and he protests softly with a few meows, but ultimately makes it into Ted’s cupped hands. The kitten fits in his tan hands perfectly, curling back up and letting Ted hold him close.
“Rad! I’ve never held a kitten before!” He tries to keep his bouncing to a minimum, only gently rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet.
You hear the soft sound of the kitten purring and you smile as you pet him in Ted’s hands.
“I think he likes you,” You glance up to see Ted’s enourmous smile widen even more. “He’s purring.”
“That means he likes me?” He confirms with you and you nod. “It’s like he has a little engine in there or something!”
“You can keep him if you want,” A voice calls out from nearby, old and slightly gruff.
You two turn, the kitten still sleeping in Ted’s hands, to see an older man leaned up against the side of an even older red barn.
“We got so many of those farm cat’s out here, was hoping someone would pick one up with their pumpkin this year.” He points to the kitten as he speaks. “Looks like that one’s taken a liking to you, boy.”
Ted nods, his excitement clear to see.
“Oh, are you sure, Mister?” You check, not so sure.
“Oh yeah, we try to offload some of the summer kittens around this time. Won’t cost you anything but the price of the pumpkin you pick out with him.” Despite his seemingly rough edges, the man seems genuine. “Just looking to get them to good homes is all.”
Ted’s all but ready to say yes, and you look into those soft brown eyes of his and can’t muster yourself to tell him no.
“Do you think your apartment will let you have a pet?” You try to be the responsible one here, knowing that a pet is more than just something cute to have.
“Yeah! Our neighbor has one in their window all the time!” Ted responds.
“And you‘ll take care of him? Feed him, and play with him, and get all his shots up to date?” You cross your arms, trying to seem tough, but it’s so hard to hide your budding smile.
“Of course! It would be most excellent to have a chill kitten like this as a pet!” His excitement at the thought of it all is clear.
“Alright.” You say, unfolding your arms, and sighing with fake resignation,
You close the gap between you and Ted, hugging him and the kitten.
At the end of the day, you and Ted return to his apartment with more than too great big pumpkins, but a kitten named ‘Patch’ as well.
A Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (& now John Constantine too) Imagine by:
@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @johnwickb1tsch (@tammykelly on hiatus) (with honorary dream weavers / shit stirrers @lilspookymeh & @kurai-hono-blog 😘) --> ALL CHAPTERS
Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, dubcon, succubus magic, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘 *divider by firefly-graphics
That's the thing about Midnite's. There is no shortage of cloistered nooks and crannies in which to stage a debauchery. John Wick already seems to have scoped this, as he carries you like you weigh nothing to the nearest shadowed booth, settling in with you on his lap like you never parted ways and it's just another Tuesday in the club. Even now, he will not give his back to the room. You try to turn but he holds you fast with one of those big hands around your throat, and the other already sliding up your thigh, under your skirt.
"John, I need–”
"Hush," he tells you, quiet but firm. "We've done things your way. Now, we're doing it mine."
As his long fingers dip past your pantyline you whimper and writhe back against him, that delicious hard bulge already pressing into your bottom. You've never been so determined to be a good good girl for this very bad man.
"Please…" It's all you can manage, with his thick fingers exploring your wet slit, and this clawing, excruciating magic singing through your veins, wanting sex with every fibre of your being, undoubtedly made worse by your forbidden longing.
"What are you on, honey? Don't lie to me." His breath against your ear is just gasoline on the fire.
You laugh, and it comes out as a sob. "Succubus shit." It's all you can really think to call it.
You feel him pause behind you, a rare moment in which the legendary assassin isn't really sure what to do. Maybe he's seemed to take the eldritch aspects of your new world in stride, but it's still all pretty fucking weird to him.
"Ok, baby. We'll deal with it. I've got you."
“Call…Constantine,” you beg him, even as your hips are bucking against his hand. You should feel guilty. You should stop, because Constantine deserves better than you grinding on your ex in the den of your boyfriend’s enemies…but you can’t. You just can’t, and you are sure that bitch demoness planned it that way, but right now you are a slave to the magick she infected you with.
John, however, just snorts behind you. “I don’t think I will,” he replies, before snaking a hand into your hair, pulling your neck at an almost painful angle for a kiss. He devours you, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if the magic has infected him too. His strong fingers between your legs are as merciless as his mouth, remembering maybe not how you like to be touched, but how to make you cum in spite of yourself.
That howling need rises inside you, fierce as a hurricane, pleasure so intense it borders on pain. Thank God & gods for John, for the inexorable strength in his arms–a lesser man couldn’t handle you, in this state. As it is, he struggles to hold on as you writhe against him, utterly, hopelessly desperate for relief. Surely that will break the spell? Sate whatever arcane magick the succubus filled you with?
In the end it is hard to say who is claiming whom, as you manage to turn in John’s lap so that you can straddle those tree trunks for thighs, and press your aching center to the hard bulge in his trousers without a care for who or what might be watching.
And at Midnite’s, there is always someone watching.
You’ve never really got off on exhibitionism before, but now you are too power-drunk to care, having managed to loosen John’s tie and undo some of his shirt buttons in your ravenous craving for bare skin. “I need you.”
He slides down in the booth, giving you access to his belt while his paws for hands continue to roam under your skirt, his thumb never leaving your clit. He makes you work for it, smirking up at you, maybe taking some revenge for having to watch you in the arms of another man these past weeks. But when you free his impressive member into your hand, giving that thick velvety-smooth flesh an appreciative squeeze, you see it in his eyes. How badly he’s missed you–and he needs you too.
With zero patience left to your name you push your panties to the side and impale yourself upon him, taking him nearly to the hilt in your drenching wet cunt. This wins you a groan that feels like a victory, and you ride him at the pace you need. He can come along if he wants–but he’ll have to catch up.
“Fuck, baby…” He loops one arm around your waist, holding you against him, angling deeper.
“Make me cum, John,” you half beg, half taunt him. “I feel like I’ll die if I don’t cum.” The magick is riding you, filling you like searing hot lava beneath a volcano–if you don’t find a way to release it, it’s going to burn you alive.
“I’ve got you, y/n. My pretty girl, my perfect little one, still so tight for me.” He finds your nipple through the bodice of your dress, pinching and rubbing as he thrusts his hips for you. It’s all so good, and you know you’re done for a moment before it takes you, mind-numbing pleasure curling through your loins and up your spine with such force you feel like a tree split in two by lightning. The violence of it brings him with you, filling you with the hot rush of his seed. That is when you feel it–his very life essence, so proud and strong, and some of it passes into you, absorbed as your rightful due.
This man has the heart of a wolf, and somehow you know, somewhere in the hindbrain where the seed of this ancient magick dwells, that he could feed you for days.
As though somehow he senses something of your new predatory nature, maybe even that you took something more from him besides his blown load, he meets your eyes, so defiant even while he sits beneath you with his hair still tangled in your fingers. “Alright, princessa. You want to play? We’ll play.”
Dark laughter spills from your lips that does not sound like you at all. Something is changing in you, and you don’t know how to stop it. You need Constantine. The thought surfaces and sinks again like a tiny toy boat whipped amongst stormy waves, scuttled to the depths by the weight of this ravenous magick coursing through you.
You’ve barely managed to right yourselves again, before he is bundling you out of the club through a side entrance, half carrying you with a firm arm about your waist. A vintage mustang awaits down the street, a sleek black ‘69 that purrs like a jungle cat when he turns the key.
If you were in your right mind, you would have noticed that John took off in the absolute opposite direction of the humble house your share with John Constantine. He goes north, up, up through the winding roads of the Hills, until it feels as though you are on top of the world.
If you were in your right mind, you would have been worried about the fact that you are in John Wick’s power again, and the formidable assassin seemingly has zero interest in returning you to your home or your chosen partner in life. He pulls up to a modern style mansion perched precariously on the peak of a mountain.
“What’s this?” you ask, lounging back in your seat, unconcerned as a cat.
“Rental,” he answers. “Got tired of that shack you're calling home.”
You find this amusing, reaching across the seats to run your hand up his thigh. “Does it make you mad, that I like my little house, John, with my wizard boy?”
The mention of John Constantine should absolutely fill you with guilt, but the grip of the succubus magic still doesn’t allow for it.
“You deserve better.”
“I deserve what makes me happy,” you answer cheekily. “It’s nice, not being totally poor,” you admit. “I do thank you for that. But the greed in this town is nothing but a rat race.”
“Money is power, malushka. I learned that a long time ago. So did you.”
“Maybe. But maybe it’s just a means to an end.” You climb into his lap, and he doesn’t stop you, kissing you with those long fingers twined in your hair. “Does all your money keep you warm at night?”
“Cruel. You know you’re the only woman I’ve wanted.”
“Do I?” you ask, tugging on his hair. “Then why’d you let me go?”
“No fucking idea anymore.”
Then he is guiding you out of the car, leading you by the hand through the front door, eager as a child on Christmas. The space is big. Luxurious. Modern. Huge banks of windows that look over the glittering city below. You only vaguely take it all in, because John’s mouth is on yours, and he is sweeping you off your feet in a bridal carry, porting you up the stairs like you are nothing but a feather. The magick has awoken in you again, no longer sated, ready for a second course. Something very far in the back of your brain is alarmed by this, afraid of what you will do to John, if this goes on without intervention.
For maybe the first time ever, you have this feeling that John Wick is not, in fact, in charge here, no matter the outward appearances.
He carries you to a bedroom, sets you onto a mattress that is soft as a cloud. Immediately he is on you, his hands and his mouth, pulling your sundress over your head and dragging your panties down your thighs. “I missed you. So. Fucking. Much.” Every word is punctuated with a wet kiss upon your skin, traveling higher and higher until he is so close to your center. His dark gaze rakes up your body, and something gives him pause.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your eyes are glowing.”
You smirk, even when you should be alarmed.
“Rethinking calling the calvary?” you challenge, this time knowing Wick will never admit he can’t handle you himself.
“No,” he answers, his voice low and rough with desire. “I don’t feel like sharing you tonight.” He touches his tongue to your clit, licking lightly, tickling you the way he knows you can’t stand. You try to squirm away, but he holds you down with one big hand upon your belly, licking you harder, making you melt. He smirks up at you again, a dark glint in those polished jet irises that raises the hairs all across your skin, the magick surging to an unbearable prickling, an army of angry fire ants doing their worst to your tender flesh unless he touches you. “Tonight,” he tells you, “you belong to me.”
It may be true, but it’s a double edged sword, and he has no idea how sharp this supernatural blade can be.
***
You are killing him.
You can feel it, every time you bring him to yet another luscious climax, some of his life force passes into you. This man, so indomitable in his strength, has finally met his match in this strange succubus magick that infects you.
You are sure it does not help, the fact that he is in love with you, has longed for you while watching you in the arms of another man. He cannot keep his hands off you, even past the point where even he would be dead asleep usually. It’s ironic, that his legendary stamina may prove to be the death of him.
In the twilight just before dawn, the sated beast that dwells inside you grants you a moment of your own lucidity, a rare chance to regroup before you need his cock ramming inside you again. “John…” you urge him, kissing his chest because you cannot help yourself. “You have got to call them. Please.”
He strokes your hair with that careful tenderness that always filled your heart, made it so difficult to hate him when you had every fucking right to.
“Tired of me already, baby?” he teases sleepily. You can tell he is bone tired–utterly exhausted, almost haggard in a way you’ve never seen him. Spent and drained, in a way that is concerning to his health. There are dark circles under his eyes, a hollowness to his cheeks.
“You know something weird is going on. Please? I’m scared. That succubus did something to me.”
“Why were you there, anyway?” he asks lazily, slowly turning to rifle through his discarded clothing on the floor for his phone. Relief floods you as he produces the device.
“I had to talk to Midnite.”
“About?”
“It’s personal.”
He snorts at that. “How many times have I been inside you tonight?”
Touché.
“Ok fine. I think I’m cursed.”
“How so?”
“It’s like…I’m some kind of magnet.”
“For?”
Bad men.
Looking at him like this, rumpled from your lovemaking, those soulful dark eyes fixed on you–something shifts in your heart, and you can’t bring yourself to say it. This swell of emotion in you begins to call up other things, and you recognize the first signs of the demononic sex magic kindling inside you once more, lust stirring in your loins. You bow your head, your fingers clenching in the high-threadcount sheets.
“John. Call them. Now.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, tapping his screen with his thumb. It only rings once before you hear Tex’s voice on the other side of the line. “Where the hell are you?”
“Been a wild night,” John answers with a smirk.
“The fuck does that mean?”
There’s a tussle, Constantine in the background trying to get the phone. You hear him demand, “Did he find her?”
“I’ve got her,” says Wick, sounding unbelievably smug. “Come to this address. Bring Wizard Boy.”
He gives the address and hangs up before they can ask for more details, or in Constantine’s case, sling more threats.
Hearing Constantine’s voice should absolutely inspire direst guilt within you, but at the moment all you feel is excitement. Tex and John are on their way, and you can’t wait to see them.
“We’ve got just enough time,” he muses, rolling on top of you with that half smile that always short circuited your brain.
“John…” you protest, even as you are twining your legs with his, rolling your hips against his growing hardness. Your clit pulses and purrs with approval, as his thick tip kisses your wet entrance.
“You worried about me, sweetheart?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t worry, y/n. I’d die a happy man in your arms.”
As his mouth claims yours you let the wave of scintillating magick wash over the both of you, losing yourself yet again to this insatiable lust, and your last real thought is that Constantine better hurry.
Sweetwolfcupcake:
"Slow down wizard boy, I don't think we've got extra lives stacked up in your fridge."
"What is he even doing there with her? When did he even buy that house?" Constantine is fuming, yes. But more than that, he is concerned.
Tex's words do little to deter Constantine as he pushes on the accelerator firmer.
If a man like John Wick is asking for HIS help, he knows that something is awfully wrong. There is this feeling in his stomach...
"He's John Wick. What did ya expect? He'll wait and watch you parading your relationship with our girl."
"She isn't your woman anymore." He snaps, glancing at Tex briefly before focusing on the road again.
Constantine pushes on the accelerator harder, speeding through the isolated roads towards the given address. The fact that it is by the woods makes him anxious. Those woods have some tales he would rather not think of. You see, darkness lurks at every corner.
"We'll see about that when we reach their Wizard Boy." Constantine knows that Tex knows John better, and his confidence in John unsettles him.
"How are you so chill about it all?"
"What's the matter Wizard boy, afraid to lose?"
This man...
"I wasn't the one who abandoned her, you know, I found her, she found me. We rebuilt each other."
"Careful there."
He won't admit it, but the way Tex's voice drops, it makes a man like Constantine straighten up a bit. Tex is a seasoned assassin after all. He and John, both are bad news to you, in Constantine's eyes, but it is ultimately up to you to decide. Hailing from a world people like him would rather not deal with.
You and Constantine were doing fine, were happy even. In his mind, he could trick himself into believing that happily ever after, or at least something akin to that existed. His happily ever after, if, he can dare to dream, was and is with you. But then, the night your past came knowing at his door. And everything changed.
Looking at Tex right now, there is something selfish in Constantine that likes to imagine what if the two of them---Tex and John never came back. It would have been just you and him.
But whom is he kidding? He sees it in your eyes, he feels it. Your love for them runs deeper than it is apparent. But there is something else at play. He hasn't been able to focus or put a pin on it but...He can feel it. it's like a faint smell at some corner that he hasn't been able to figure out.
The rest of the ride passes in tense silence before his car reaches the place. The closer Constantine gets, the faster his heart beats.
He presses on the doorbell desperately, and his hold on his took box tightens in anticipation. Oh, he is familiar with this energy. He knows this energy. Something demonic.
John answers the door with dishevelled hair and tired eyes.
"Where's she?"
Even before John can answer, Constantine pushes past him, letting his intuition take the lead. He opens the bedroom door to see you sprawled on the bed. You are every bit of a seductive painting from a classic and the room is vibrating with the energy, the spell that pulses in your veins at the moment.
"Oh boy..."
The box drops from his hold as soon as your gleaming, blown-out eyes meet his.
"What's wrong with her?" Tex comes up behind him, his voice lacks the usual playful tinge as he eyes you.
"It's killing her. Consuming her, getting hold of her. Her body, mind, now her soul."
Constantine whispers out, pushing Tex behind him. He is the most vulnerable out of the three at the moment.
"I found her at the club. Some succubus spell I guess." John runs his fingers through his wild mane, telling Constantine what he knows and can decipher.
"Gear up,"
Constantine warns before reaching for his box on the floor. Perhaps, this is his true test.
Treedaddymcpuffpuff:
“Watcha doin Johnny?” You ask, stretching like a lazy cat, eyes dulled pink and wide, the length of your body novel and vintage all in the same. His cock is already much, much harder than it should be.
“Fuck.” Tex leans on the doorway. “Look at you.”
John’s T-shirt rides up your thighs as you scooch to the end of the bed, smiling and glowing, imbued with wicked sex magic that even Constantine is having trouble thinking past.
“Tex,” Constantine warns, “I wouldn’t. This type of magic puts a whole new meaning to the phrase, “fuck the life out of you.””
“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Tex murmurs, stepping a little further into the room.
The part of you that cares whether or not you drain the life from each of them through their cocks is dwindling terrifyingly fast. You’ve never felt so powerful, or horny. Salivating for Tex’s broad frame and big, veiny hands that you know the capabilities of.
“It’s not bad at all,” Wick agrees, kneeling down next to Constantine. “A great way to die.”
Constantine glares at both of them. “How about back the fuck up?” He thinks for a minute, putting his sweaty head in his hands, trying to shake some of this raw, possessive feeling clouding his mind. It’s hard to do, especially when you’re fucking his. His girl. His. They lost their chance a long time ago.
“Too late for that,” John says, watching him rummage through the confines of his suitcase for something useful. It’s a bit like trying to focus on reading while at a Metallica concert.
“John,” you say, before he can wrap his hand around Wick’s throat, “I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I just needed—“
“Angel,” he interrupts, eyes soft milk chocolate for you, Adam’s apple bobbing in that way it does when you have him tied to bed, slowly nipping and sucking your way down his tummy to his leaking cock. “It’s alright, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna fix this.”
“I know I just…I missed you so much. Can you hold me?” It’s the most convincing argument he’s ever heard, especially when you stretch out your arms to him with those big candy pink eyes.
“Christ,” he grits.
“Fuckface,” Tex is saying to Wick. They are toe to toe. “How long were you planning on keeping her all to yourself, huh?”
Wick smiles, pretending to think about it. “It wasn’t my idea to call you.”
You put yourself between them, fast and agile, like little Catwoman sliding into a 1v1 with Batman and Superman. “Stop it,” you tell Tex, leaning up on tiptoes to thread your arms around his neck.
John’s hands wrap around your hips, and you lean back against him while Tex eyes the kiss bruised skin of your throat. It doesn’t take long for his teeth to sink in.
“Stop,” Constantine commands, trying to get you out from between them. John grabs him by the collar while Tex licks and kisses down your sternum, into the valley of your breasts, saliva coating John’s shirt.
“Gonna fuck you stupid,” Tex says against the pert flesh of your nipple.
“Let me go, you fucking idiot,” Constantine hisses, as Wick backs him up against the wall, nearly removing his feet from the ground with the force of his body. Even drained of his eight lives and clinging weakly to the ninth, John’s strength is un-fucking-matched. It makes you throb.
No, you’re already past throbbing. Convulsing, as Tex sucks on your nipples and kneads your ass.
“John,” you call, and the low whiny pant of your voice stops this testosterone quarrel dead in its tracks. “Please don’t fight.”
“Angel…” Constantine says, while Wick just grins at you.
“Just…C’mere.”
As far as these men are concerned, you might as well be a famous lawyer with the way you win that fight before it can even start.
You’re not sure whose hands or mouth is whose. Only that they are all over you, and you are ending and beginning all at once. A fire in you, blazing so fully it consumes and destroys everything you are or want to be. Just a fucktoy, a cocksleeve, a desperate fucking whore who gets on her knees and licks and sucks and swallows.
John’s lucky he has a big enough bed to fit all of you. Lucky he can devour your tits while Tex lets a big glob of saliva fall from his tongue onto your pulsing pussy, then dives in. You’re not sure where Constantine is, until you feel his mouth on yours, kissing you like you mean something to him. Like you’re the only thing in this fucking world that matters.
He pulls away, hand on your chin, pushing your sweaty hair back from your face, and you know that he loves you. That they all do. But it’s not enough. You need more. Need something that transcends love and devotion.
Wick is right, money is power, and so is sex. You look up at Constantine, hand threaded through Tex’s hair, chest red and swollen from John’s tongue, panting and heaving and drooling after losing yourself and finding God so many times already. “John,” you call, “come to me.”
“We’re fucked,” he says, before descending back into your mouth.
Happy Halloween y'all! Here is my little entry for @keanumovieclubofficial's October prompt: spending Halloween with your favorite Keanu character! I chose Matt, my 80s dream guy (next to Ted Logan, and Eddie Munson, of course).
I want to expand upon the one-shot I wrote for the prompt, but I'll leave you guys with an excerpt until I finish it!
Candy wrappers, unrolled joints, and soda cans littered the coffee table by your feet. His mom and the mother-fucking food-eater named Steve were out, thank God, and his little siblings were God-knows-where in the house. As long as they kept away, everything would be alright.
The T.V. played the current flick from your Blockbuster stop the only thing good place in this buttfuck-nowhere town besides the pizza arcade and the dip in the river's bank where one couldn't be caught swapping spit with their beau/belle with just a look over the edge by local authorities. You managed to get all the good ones: Nightmare on Elm Street 1 and 3, Night of The Living Dead, The Lost Boys, Pearl, and Dance of The Dead - the last one which Matt swears isn't a porno. You'll be the judge of that. The last Halloween, he convinced you watched a vampire movie with Susan Sarandon, David Bowie, ane other chick whose name you can't remember in it. You were sorely disappointed by the lack of blood and Bowie, and a lot of it was just softcore lesbian porn.
The two of you were cuddled on the couch, watching the beginning of the end of Freddy Kreuger’s reign of being a terrifying villain instead of making puns every five minutes. Freddy was electrocuting some poor girl by lifting her from her seat and shoving her body into the ceiling television set.
“Get ready for prime time, bitch!” You cackled, grabbing another fistful from the popcorn bowl.
“Hey, uhm..” He looked down, twirling a decapitated lollipop Bat between his fingers. “Can I just, like..ask you to promise me something?” There was a tension in his voice, and he looked…pensive? Almost guilty.
Almost.
You frowned, “Uh..sure, babe. What’s up?”
“If I...God fucking forbid this, but if I end up like…like your daydreams. Those stupid fucking dreams. I just want you to promise…you won’t end up like my mother.” You could swear you saw the edge of his mouth twitch upwards. What the fuck’s so funny? “Don’t stay with me. Don’t. I don’t care what I say, what I do to try to win you back, the promises I make. Just leave me.”
You raised an eyebrow and looked at up at him with concern.
"Matt, it's…they're just dreams. It's fine, babe."
The two of you leaned toward each other, breaths warm with the smell of popcorn and...beer? Something minty on his breath, as well. He smiled and kissed you deeply, and your body finally settled against his, completely relaxed to watch some campy gorefests.
₊‧꒰ঌ ໒꒱‧ ° Here is the prompt list for our community wide event if anyone wants to join in! The orange side is for more fluffy fall prompts and the red side is for more horror style prompts, feel free to pick and choose whichever or do both if you'd like!
₊‧꒰ঌ ໒꒱‧ ° I would love it if we could use the #keanuween on here so everyone can find the event and would be happy to be tagged in any keanuween posts (so I can read and reblog them!)
₊‧꒰ঌ ໒꒱‧ ° Event starts with
week 1: Oct. 1-6
week 2: 7-13
week 3: 14-20
week 4: 21-27
week 5: 28-Nov. 2(for any late fics!).
Feel free to do as little or as many as you want! I just want to read some fall time stories about my pookies even if that means you only have time to do 1!
₊‧꒰ঌ ໒꒱‧ ° All are welcome to participate, writers, artists, gifmakers, editors, ANYONE who wants to create ANY kind of fanwork for the event! If you'd like a space to share your work further, consider joining our community!
