#neo anderson x reader

[feinv]

hereeee me out.. virgin pre-matrix neo with dom-ish reader .. it'd go crazy i fear 😞 he's all tensed up and awkward, literally sweating when reader just touches his knee.

so submissive and breedable just to be fictional. 😔

virgin pre-matrix neo x gn!reader.

especially if you are a naturally touchy person cuz that’s just how you show affection…he won’t survive that yeah.

doesn’t matter if you are still in the talking stage or just got into a relationship or…if you are nothing but a couple of friends, you still make him a flustered mess.

— you were sitting next to him in front of his desk while he showed you some cool tricks he did by coding, your knees touching every now and then as your body shifted around, and he was trying so hard to not act weird at the pleasant sensations your innocent touches brought him, craving more of you and internally begging you to stop continue :(

he tried distracting himself by clearing his throat during every such instance, which helped a little, allowing him to think he would get through the night without making a fool out of himself in front of you, but all his delusions would shatter in the just a few seconds.

he showed you a particularly unique website he made, your excitement getting the best of you when your hand unconsciously flew to his thigh, your fingers slightly digging into his flesh as you squealed. “that’s so cool, neo!! you probably spent days on this, right?” you exclaimed, genuinely curious to hear his answer. but when you turned your head to look at him, his eyes would be anywhere but on you. the monitor, the desk, the wall, the window, even the hardly shining light bulb. everything was suddenly so interesting to him.

he swallowed the lump in his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as your hand was still connected with his leg, and he felt a burning in that exact area. was he going insane? your words were completely muffled to him, his thoughts so loud they blocked out other sounds. except maybe the pumping of his heart, which was definitely louder than anything else. he was grateful the apartment was dimly lit, at least you wouldn’t see his flushed cheeks, or the little drops of sweat forming on his forehead.

he fidgeted with his fingers, stuttering on his own words trying to form a coherent reply. “i ugh…well…it’s uhm…” his pupils racing back and forth in between your pretty face and your hand, his own soothing down his other leg which was literally trembling “sorry…what did you say?” you heard his nervous laughter.

[babsharrison]

Between Worlds - Neo x Reader

Pairing | Neo Anderson x Fem! Reader

Summary | Neo returns to your life after disappearing, revealing that the world you live in is an illusion of the Matrix. Now, you must choose between the safety of the life you know and the unknown truth alongside Neo.

Word Count | 1.5k

CW | None. just some fluff

A/N | Hey luvs, this is my first fanfic here! I really hope you like it, and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, I did my best. 😭

The soft morning light filtered through the café windows, casting dancing shadows on the tiled floor. Neo sat at a table in the corner, a forgotten cup of coffee in front of him. His eyes never left you, as you laughed and chatted animatedly with a group of friends at the next table. To them, you were a young woman full of life, hope, and possibilities. To him, you were a painful reminder of what he had lost and could never have.

As he watched you, memories flooded in, bringing back the conversations you’d had about dreams, the future, and freedom. Words that now seemed distant, almost unreal, as if they belonged to a time and life he could no longer reach. You were trapped in that illusory world, believing everything around you was real, while he lived in another dimension, fighting against the invisible shadows of the Matrix.

Your friends stood up, leaving you alone. Your gaze wandered around the café, and he noticed a sudden melancholy in your eyes, a trace of emptiness that tightened his chest. The urge to run to you, to hold you, to tell you that everything would be okay, grew inside him. But the words weighed heavily. His heart raced erratically as he shifted in his chair, nervous. He had never known how to handle the feelings you stirred within him.

Neo knew the world you belonged to was a prison, an illusion carefully designed to keep you asleep to the truth. He couldn’t let you stay there, ignorant of your own condition. But there was fear—fear that, in trying to save you, he would break the trust between you. What if you hated him for destroying what you believed to be real? The doubt gnawed at him.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he stood up, the temporary decision to leave taking hold. He felt weak as he crossed the café door, leaving you behind once more. There was a shadow of guilt within him, knowing that his continued distance only made you more vulnerable. He hid in corners, watching you on the streets, following you from a distance as you carried on with your routine, completely unaware of the devastating truth.

Days passed.

He became a shadow in your life. He watched you walk to work, carrying a simple briefcase, your face focused on some daily task. He saw how your lips curved into a smile when someone told a joke. How your hands moved, almost dancing, as you spoke animatedly on the phone. But he also noticed the sadness in the moments when you were alone, the pensive expression, perhaps wondering why some parts of your life felt empty, as if something was missing—an absent presence.

Sometimes, he followed you to the building where you worked. From across the street, hidden in the shadows, he watched you get lost in the hurried crowds. And even though you didn’t know it, he felt the growing anguish of always being so close, yet so far.

He knew he couldn’t continue like this for much longer. The guilt was slowly consuming him. If only he could explain... If only he could make you understand what was real.

Until one day, he made a decision.

He couldn’t live on the sidelines of your life anymore, watching from afar. The risk of losing you forever was great, but the fear of never trying was even greater.

You were having a normal day, walking back home, shopping bags swinging at your side. Your steps echoed softly along the sidewalk as the day waned, and the sky turned shades of orange. Neo followed closely, closer than ever. With each step, the weight of the choice he was about to make became more evident.

You approached the gate to your building, distracted, fumbling with your keys, when suddenly you felt a presence behind you. A chill ran down your spine, and you turned quickly, your heart leaping in your chest. There he was. Neo.

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. He stood still, the dark coat gently flowing with the wind. The face you hadn’t seen in so long, the figure that had disappeared without explanation, was now there, standing in front of you.

“Neo?” you murmured, surprise and shock mingling in your voice. “You... you’re here?”

He took a step forward, his expression serious, but there was something else in his eyes. Something you hadn’t recognized before. “I couldn’t keep watching you from afar,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I... I couldn’t leave you alone in this world.”

Your heart raced, a confusion of emotions washing over you. “Alone? What are you talking about?”

He hesitated for a second, the words he needed to say weighing heavily. But he knew the moment of truth had arrived. “I need to show you something. Something that will change everything.”

“Change everything? Neo, I thought you... I thought you were dead.” Your voice came out fragile, your eyes wide with disbelief, a mixture of pain and relief surfacing in the words you spoke.

Neo felt the impact of those words. Part of him wanted to apologize for letting you believe that, for disappearing without explanation, but he knew that any words would be insufficient. He had failed to protect you from the truth for too long. And now, here you were, standing before him, not knowing that you lived in a prison, not knowing that the world around you was a lie.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on your face, trying to catch every nuance of emotion passing through your eyes. “But I couldn’t... I didn’t know how. This world... this life you know isn’t real.”

You took a step back, confused, trying to process his words. “Not real? What are you saying? This is my life, Neo. My job, my friends... my life.”

He stepped forward, trying to close the distance between you without pushing. “All of this was designed to keep you trapped. Like an illusion, a prison for the mind.” He was pleading with his eyes, his voice low and serious. “I was trapped too, until I found the truth. Now, I’m fighting against it... and I need you.”

Your mind was spinning. Everything he said sounded like madness, but there was something in his eyes—something that made you stop, hesitate. The intensity in Neo’s gaze, so familiar yet so distant, hit you hard. You had always trusted him, always knew he was different. But now, he was speaking of things that were beyond what you could understand.

“I... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered, your hands trembling as you held the shopping bags, trying to find some anchor in the reality around you.

Neo knew this would be hard. He had gone through the same confusion, the same denial. The revelation of the Matrix was devastating to anyone, but he needed you to trust him. He needed you to see.

“I know it sounds crazy. I didn’t believe it at first either. But let me show you.” He extended his hand, hesitant, as if the simple gesture could change everything between you. “If you trust me, I can take you out of this.”

Your heart raced. Part of you wanted to back away, to flee from all this madness. But another part, the part that still believed in Neo, that still felt something for him, was curious. What if he was right? What if everything he said was true?

You looked at Neo’s outstretched hand, feeling the crushing weight of the choice ahead. On one side, the life you knew—comfortable, familiar, safe—and on the other, the truth he offered you, mysterious and terrifying. Fear mixed with the desire for answers, but there was something deeper, something that went beyond words.

Neo was everything to you. The days without him had been long and lonely, a silent pain you could never ignore. Now, he was here, standing before you, more real and more beautiful than you remembered, like an impossible dream that had materialized.

The air around you seemed heavy, almost palpable, as your fingers hesitated for a moment. Every movement carried the gravity of that choice, an invisible line that separated the past from the future. Slowly, your trembling fingers began to move until they found his hand, sealing what, in a way, had always been inevitable.

Neo watched as you made the choice. His heart, which had seemed frozen, started beating again with force when your fingers finally touched his. There was a moment of silence between you, as if the world around you had disappeared, leaving only the connection between your hands.

“I trust you,” you finally said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “Show me what I need to see.”

Neo gently squeezed your hand, the expression on his face softening for a brief moment. He knew that what lay ahead wouldn’t be easy for you, but at least now, he wouldn’t be alone. The journey you were about to face together was only the beginning.

[eulogybaby]

thinking about loserboy!neo and his office siren boss!reader. is it ethically unacceptable to call him into your office at least once a day and scrutinize him for ‘inadequate’ coding? no. you’re his boss after all, and it’s your job to encourage him to do better. did you secretly go in there and delete chunks of what he programmed just to have an excuse to have him stand there in front of your desk all quiet and sullen with those big beautiful brown eyes? maybe. i mean, fuck, that big, pretty poindexter is just way too good at what he does. how else are you gonna come up with an excuse to start making home visits?

then, when you have him where you want him; laying under you, moaning pitifully on the bed of his nerdy hovel, adam's apple bobbing as he tries to desperately swallow back gasps of air, the flickering green fluorescence of his collection of CRT monitors casting pretty shadows over his features, you ride him even faster. knowing he's sensitive to that, knowing you'll get to see the veins in that pretty long neckline of his bulge and pulse with effort to keep from cumming too quickly as his head falls back. your wet thighs meet as you use his pale cock for your own pleasure. what a fucking virgin. maybe you'll let him cum inside as a reward if he holds out long enough...

[discoscoob]

FRIEND ZONE | Neo Anderson x Reader

Under the warm glow of a single lamp and the flickering light of the television, that neither of you are paying any attention to, Neo sits silently on the couch in your shared apartment. Curled up beside him, with your head buried against his chest, you sob against the worn fabric of his dark hoodie.

Neo feels his heart ache with a heaviness settling in his chest and one question clawing at his insides. How could anyone hurt you like this? You’re too kind, too precious, too… perfect to be inflicted with that kind of pain. How could someone take your love for granted, when he would do anything to have you look at him the way you look at those unworthy fools who only end up hurting you?

He shifts slightly, unsure how to hold you without holding too tightly. His arms feel clumsy in moments like this. He wants to cradle you, to keep you safe and protect you, but instead he just awkwardly rests his arm on your shoulder, the lightest touch - the only touch he dares.

You sniffle, lifting your head just enough to speak, the sight of your swollen and puffy eyes, agitated by your tears, provokes a coiling ache in the pit of Neo’s stomach.

“Why do I always pick the worst guys?” you wipe your tears with your sweater paws, your voice shaky and raw as you speak. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong? Why is it so hard to find someone who actually cares? Someone who will love me… for me.”

Neo’s throat tightens. Every time you say something like that, it’s like you’re throwing daggers straight at his heart, unaware how much he aches to unburden himself of his hidden feelings towards you. He wants to shout, I'm right here! He wants to pull you closer and tell you that you don't have to keep searching. He wants to tell you that you’ve already found the guy who would give anything to make you smile, to protect your heart like it's the most precious thing in the world— because to him, it is.

“He was a jerk, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong, he’s an idiot for not realising how lucky he was to have you.” Neo says softly, his fingers gently rubbing circles on your shoulder. “You deserve so much better than him. Someone who will cherish you and would do anything just to make you happy.”

“I don’t think such a guy exists, Neo.” your shaky laugh sounds bitter as you hopelessly admit your dwindling faith in love.

The words hit Neo in the chest like a hammer. His heart twists painfully, almost cruelly. It's not just what you said—it's the finality of it, the way you’re so convinced that no one would ever love you the way you deserve. No one, including him. It's like you don't see him at all. It makes him feel invisible.

I exist, his mind screams, but his mouth stays sealed.

“He does exist, Y/N. I promise, he does.” his strained voice answers around the lump in his throat that he painfully swallows. Neo hesitates, the truth on the tip of his tongue, held back by his own cowardice. The thought of losing you, your friendship, your laughter, your late-night talks — it paralyses him. He knows if he tells you the truth, everything could change. What if you pull away from him, the only person he's ever felt this connected to? What if he loses you? That scares him more than anything.

“Maybe… maybe he’s closer than you think.” Neo cautiously adds, his fragile heart anxiously teetering between the possibility that you might catch onto his subtle hint and realistically knowing that you won’t. His heart will fall either way because the possibility of you knowing will only lead to the possibility of your rejection.

“I wish more guys were like you, Neo. You’re the only one who never lets me down. I don’t know what I’d do without you… you’re like my rock.” Neo feels his chest clench uncomfortably at your words, because they’re agonisingly close to what he desperately wants to hear but almost cruelly they’re not meant in the way that he wishes. They’re never meant in the way that he wishes.

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I promise I’ll never let you down.”

And he means it. Even if it means swallowing his own feelings. Even if it means watching you fall for someone else again and again. He will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and carefully put them back together with tender care. While neglecting his own broken heart. Because loving you is the easiest thing he's ever done. Telling you... that's the hardest.

[edgessunflower]

Down the rabbit hole

Pairing: Neo Anderson x Fem reader

Description: Neo finds you and you follow him down the rabbit hole of what the Matrix really is

You were under the bridge in the rain walking home from work after a long day only wanting to get home but you had to take a break from how exhausted you were and how much pain your body was in after working overtime for the last two weeks. "You look tired" you looked over your shoulder to see a man behind you with shades and in all black as you stared at each other shivering slightly due to being soaked in the rain before taking shelter under the bridge not expecting him to lay his trench coat over her as silence fell between the two of you while resting for the next fifteen minutes before handing the coat back and beginning to walk home only to be stopped not far from the bridge raising a brow at his words about the world being an illusion and that this world was called the Matrix, "You can stay here and remain in the illusion or you can come with me and see not just the real world but how deep the rabbit hole goes" you listened to his words before you nodded and caught up with him leading to the two of you in an abandoned house taking a small red pill seeing visions of the real world before suddenly waking up seeing that you were in a pod yelling as you are sucked out of the pod. You woke up finding yourself on a ship dried off and dressed seeing the same man above you before he said his name was Neo and you told him your name before he showed you the truth of the matrix which left you stunned as you looked at him before you fell down the rabbit hole as you met the others in on the ship including Trinity, Morpheus, Niobe, Link, Zee, and Seraph before learning the ropes in Zion and you immediately fit right in as you had already been a part of the rebellion the whole time than randomly being found and brought into the fold being taken under neo's wing that slowly blossomed into a romance amidst the chaos around the two of you in the rabbit hole but after a night of emotional love making the two of you promised to always find and stay with each other no matter what.

[fernpetals]

After Life: The Past

Masterlist

Yandere Neo Anderson Headcanons

Part II

Based on this idea

Warning: NSFW-ish, stalking, creepy behaviour, violation of privacy, obsessive tendencies, red flag 'nice guy' Thomas, deviations from the original matrix plot, and characterisations, hints of social awkwardness and anxiety.

Inspired by a post about dark Neo by @97keanu and some late-night discussions with my mutuals (wink)

Unedited piece

Thomas Anderson was a socially awkward sceptic, living in alienation. Grinding through the monotonous cycle, while being aware, at the back of his mind, that something was very, very wrong with this world.

Thomas Anderson could only peek from his cubicle as you greeted your colleagues and went on with your day.

You adhered to your team. Never mingling too close to the rest. You were not impolite. Quite the opposite. Sweet smiles, nods of acknowledgement– polite and professional. But that was it.

Despite your politeness your kindness, you were not an open book. You gave an impression of being one, though. Knowingly. Or unconsciously, Thoman did not know. But despite his keen eyes, he could decipher only a little about you.

A part of him always longed to walk up to you and start a conversation. Maybe during coffee, or snack breaks, or when he would find you in the break room, all by yourself, scribbling something.

He would linger, but never get the courage to walk up to you. The most he had done was smile, nod, and greet you. You, of course, sweet thing, greeted him back with that devastating smile of yours that left his throat parched.

Thomas Anderson’s sweet brown eyes would meet yours across cubicles, and he would sigh. He did not want to think too much about you. He had no idea what truly intrigued him, but he couldn’t stop.

He…had to know more about you. The enigma that you were. Quiet, kind—with your perfect smile, sweet eyes, and polite mannerisms. No one was perfect, surely you were no exception.

Thomas liked to tell himself that he was merely curious about the human tendencies— deception, envy, anger, destruction—perhaps the most self-destructive race to ever walk on earth. Yet something innate within prevailed. The will to go on.

Thomas Anderson was curious by nature; he was snooping into your personal life—your digital files, simply out of curiosity.

Neo was the name associated with data breaches that made it to the headlines, shook up the security systems of governments and banks alike. Yet he chose to use his skills and time on you. Your digital files, on digging up information about you.

It would seem to be grossly wasted effort in the hacker community that respected NEO so much. 

But he did not regret one bit. Who knew 'Miss Polite and Perfect' had a digital diary? Who knew that her dark humour stemmed from the scepticism around the world, the way it was? You seemed more similar to him than he had thought before.

But that was not what made his blood race. It was what you had written. Short scenarios and stories of utter debauchery. 

Poor, poor you, writing her fantasies that would ‘never be probably fulfilled, 'it’s all too much, too good. Your words, not his. The fact that you did not expect any man to bring you the pleasure you imagined in those writings made him tick.

More than once, he had his pants unzipped and length out, leaking and angry as he read through your 'scenarios' and got off.

There were also personal musings and mundane happenings that you wrote. How your day went, what you thought of your teammates, who you liked, who you disliked, the one co-worker who would always be passing back-handed compliments and taking credit for your work.

Thomas found himself engrossed in your life. Even to the most mundane and minute details. The way you like your caffeine first thing in the morning, the fruits you liked, and what thoughts ran through your head. Your perception, your reality, you, you, you.

He did not mean to, but it became his motivation to go home and sit in front of the computer. His search for ‘Morpheus’ was not going anywhere anyway. Instead, he focused on reading and knowing all about you.

Reading as you typed into your digital diary, and the next day, finding the correlation between your words and actions in the office. 

You were pissed one night—all your hard work gone into the name of a pesky coworker. You wrote as you could see the prospect of promotion slipping from your fingers.

Thomas should not have bothered himself with it. He was not even bothered about his own promotion. He had no definite ‘vision of the future’ for himself. But it was the unjust treatment you were facing that made his jaws tighten and sweet brown eyes harden.

He knew he should have minded his business. Not even once, during months of reading through your digital diary, did he find his name. You never noticed him. He was simply one of the many employees you greeted and forgot.

He wished you would notice him. You never did. And it made something gnaw out from the gap in his chest.

Why would you not notice? Look at him. He was the one who left you a cup of coffee just right on your desk. You liked it, and he saw your smile. You should be trying to guess and find out who it was.

Why wouldn’t you just look at him? Okay, it was he who could never gather the courage to walk up to you, but he wished you would think of him, even for once, and mention him in the digital diary.

He began to obsessively search through your diary, trying to find anything remotely connected to him. You did not think of him at all. Though not surprised, it did hurt him a little. A more rational part of him knew that it should not hurt him, but how would you know?

But he was happy to see you happy and thriving. The bully of a co-worker being fired for compromising company information did not really make you happy, as he thought it would.

He spent hours breaking into the system and making it happen. But you were happy when the promotion you were eyeing landed right on your lap. It felt worth the effort.

When it was announced in the office, he was one of the first colleagues to congratulate you.

He made efforts that day. He chose a better shirt, he put time to comb his hair, he wore a more expensive cologne, he made conscious efforts to straighten up his shoulders and try keeping his nervousness down.

He was good at keeping a front, but his palms were sweaty. He had to wipe them off when he approached to congratulate you. Your hands felt so warm and soft, he thought they had finally found a blanket cosy enough to keep his soul warm.

But he ended up tripping over, almost falling until you caught him, looking at him with concern, asking if he was okay, pointing out the beads of sweat all over his forehead and nose.

He thought it was a lost battle until you pulled out your handkerchief to pat over his forehead and nose. “Thomas, you look stressed.”

He looked at you, eyes blinking in utter surprise, “You remember my name?” You noticed him? You had noticed him before?

You chuckled. “Of course I do. I greet you every day, do I not?”

He could only nod. “Are you…Are you hungry? I was about to grab lunch, but it’s okay if you aren’t. The lunch is never good anyway, it's boring, I will just slide into the cafeteria and—”

“Yeah sure.”

“What?”

Your slow smile was a knife gradually pushing into his chest. “Let's go and grab lunch.”

And so began the habit of grabbing a bite, or simply coffee with you. At times, he would just get you a cup if you were too busy to leave your cubicle and chat away for a while. Every time he would arrive at your cubicle, he couldn’t help but glance at the desk.

He nodded to what you said, listened to. But every now and then, he would be distracted thinking about how good it would feel to pick you up and place you on that desk while he stood between your legs.

If you preferred pants, he thought about how fast he could pull them down and unzip his. If you wore skirts, he imagined how your naked thighs would feel under his fingers. 

His eyes would drop to your tinted lips—was your lipstick smudgeproof? He preferred it wasn’t. He could rub his thumb over your lips and watch the lipstick smudged all over. You would look prettier being a mess.

But most of all, he liked to hear your giggle, or the full-blown laughter that would turn heads in the dead and awful place. Nobody seemed to like any signs of life. The indoor plants felt fake, and everyone seemed to just type away like some robot in their cubicles.

He liked to imagine that you two stood out, laughing, softly initially, before busting into giggles and laughter that you two tried and failed to suppress.

He loved your laughter the most. The sound filled him with life, like moondust all over him, light filling him, like something restarted inside him. Like he could ride into the sunset with you by his side, laughing, talking, hair ruffled by the wind.

He could not believe how fast he turned from merely a colleague you greeted to becoming your friend. He knew he could be more than that, the flirty back and forth, the lingering stares, the awkward silences.

 He would spend night after night, smoking through his thoughts and mindlessly scrolling through his computer after reading your diary. You began to write about him. You began to think of him. You began to look forward to talking to him every day you walked into the office. You liked his company, you thought he had the sweetest brown eyes and the best dry humour.

The night he finally managed to ask you out was also the day Morpheus made contact with him. For the first time. It was a phone delivered to him.

It was also the day the agents took him for interrogation. They somehow knew that Morpheus had contacted him. 

The next thing he knew, he woke up in his room, and it seemed to be a nightmare. But it felt so real. Did the agents know that he was NEO? Did he show them the finger like he had been showing to the world, that felt very, very wrong? His surroundings often unsettled him. 

He asked you the next day if there were any strange men dressed in suits in the office. You were just as clueless as the rest. It had to be a dream, he told himself, trying to shake off the eerie feeling.

“So, this weekend, right?” 

When you asked him, looking up from the seat, expectant eyes and cheeks dusted with a tinge of warmth, Thomas was happy to shove the whole experience down at that moment.

“Yes, at seven. I’ll be waiting.”

It was the eve of your first date when Thomas was offered the chance to finally see Morpheus. The man he had been chasing for over a decade.

He was presented with a choice even before he was offered the choice between the red and the blue pill.

He glanced at the street that would lead him to the place where you would be waiting for him, and asked himself if he could live with the doubt and questions for the rest of his life. If he were content in a world that unsettled him?

The answer was no.

He could not. He needed answers. He needed to see Morpheus. So he made his choice. He got into that car, driving away from that street, but he felt like he had left a part of himself there.

When he finally met Morpheus and was presented with a life-defining choice, he asked one question: “Will I be able to come back here as I please…Like you do?”

Would he see you again?

It was a cryptic but affirmative ‘yes’.

And he made the choice he always knew he would. Even though his heart broke at the moment. But he had to know. He had to see the truth; he would always choose the truth.

His mind was consumed by your thoughts when he swallowed the red pill, and he thought of you after taking the pill.

You…

He knew you would be waiting in that cafe, but knew that had he chosen to walk away, he could have had a future with you. But he also knew that he could never live with the questions. This blind chase had to come to an end. He needed answers. He needed to know.

He made a choice, and nothing was the same again.

****

There will be a part II

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Gods and Monsters

Yandere Neo x Reader

Random drabble series

Secret Garden

Heavily flawed and diverted concept as compared to the ORIGINAL STORYLINE with shallow imagination and vague concepts I am too lazy to explain or expand upon.

In fact, it has to mean nothing at all, treat it as a wink to Keanuverse characters, a metafiction, or nonsense literature, or even better, find a meaning yourself.

Had to simply get it out of my system, it has been pestering me.

Please enjoy.

Warnings: None (for now)

Credit to the original owner of this GIF. Heavily unedited piece.

Drabble #1

It is beautiful. Witnessing it with your own eyes allows you to have a true sense of its beauty—a vision indeed. The rainbow stretches across the sky, a strip of joy when sunshine and rain collide over the city. This is a common occurrence here. You always knew it, but witnessing it with your bare eyes fills you with pride. Not many stop by to watch the wonder as you do—people are so…busy, almost oblivious to the beauty around them.

Another city, another wonder to experience. In your years travelling throughout the world here, you have been indulging in nostalgia. You make yourself comfortable on a park bench, observing, watching, and passing time with a sandwich until the sun sets. You check your watch. Yet another notification. 

“How long do you plan to stay here?”

You are not surprised that you never heard him coming—you are not the only one who can come and go at whim.

You only shrug.

“It has been years (Y/N).” Neo does not look at you, instead keeping his eyes on the twilight sky.

“Here, yes, but not there.”

“Two days,” He corrects “Almost two days, you lose track of time in the Matrix.” He adds, sighing

“I am in no rush, it’s my twelfth year here.”

“You have locked that room from within.” His voice remains low but lacks the softness present moments before.

“You know that’s not how it works (Y/N).” His calm exterior can fool an all-seeing ‘priestess’, or that’s what they call such people here. 

“I know how it works, Neo. I know you have been watching me the whole time, you have access to everything.”

“Yeah.” He admits after a moment of silence “But could not reach you.”

“That’s why you plugged yourself in?” You look at him. 

The silence is your answer.

“How long do you plan to stay mad at me?”

“I am past the anger, I know it just amuses you.” That might not be completely true. 

The ghost of a smirk makes you tick, but you have far better control over your temper. 

“Good to hear that,” he cleans his tinted eyewear.

“You don’t need that.” You eye it with a tinge of amusement.

Neo turns to meet your gaze—he is not strikingly handsome as many were before him, but he stands out, no wonder it is him who has been chosen. There’s something deep and ancient in him, his calm presence and cool temper. But that doesn't make him any less capable of annihilation. You know what he is capable of, you have witnessed it first-hand.

“Nostalgia.” He smirks before raising from the bench.

Oh, yes, he indeed is in a mood—dressed in the same dark clothes that haunted you for years, while you sit there, in a plain pair of denims and t-shirt.

“I miss you (Y/N).”

“You will live a few days.”

He frowns “Doesn’t feel like it.”

How dramatic.

“Bye.” You dismiss him, turning your focus back to the sandwich.

[marks-bby]

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀assigning the wickverse characters links ! !

characters ;;

— ted logan , john wick , constantine , kevin , neo

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ted logan 🎸

— before ted met you , he was a virgin. he had never experimented with women because…well he just never cared for it. his main goal was to become a rock star.

— when the two of you got together , sex wasn’t even on the table. you two were to happy together without it to even bring it up.

— until he heard some boys in one of his classes talking about their sex life. “she was screaming bad. she enjoyed every inch.” “she won’t leave me after that.”

— ‘were you happy with him?’ ‘did you want sex?’ ‘was he enough for you?’ his mind was flooded with self deprecating thoughts , making him more insecure about himself. he didn’t want you to leave him.

— so he did what he could. he went to the back of blockbusters , looking for any popular porno for him to learn how to pleasure a woman. “sick.”

“teddy.” you gasp as he softly pushes you on his bed. “shh. i’ve got you, baby. just let me take the lead.” he kisses down your neck. he rolls your shirt over your head, rubbing his hand over your soft skin. ‘what’s gotten into him’ you thought. your bra and panties were next to go, leaving you naked in front of him. “shit…” he didn’t think this all through. he imagined everything but he didn’t actually expect all of this to happened. but he he pulled himself together, taking a deep breath and leveling his mind. “you’re beautiful.” he kisses down your leg, stopping at your inner thighs. you didn’t know how to react. you and ted both were virgins from what you knew. how was he so confident about this? but you weren’t really complaining. the way his tongue flick across your clit was intoxicating. “oh my god , ted.” your fingers card through his brown locks. “don’t—don’t stop.” you whine , squeezing your thighs around his head. his wet tongue licks through your folds , making your shiver in pleasure. “you can’t be finished already , babe. we haven’t even gotten to the good stuff.” he chuckles like nothing has happened. like he wasn’t the one making your legs shaken two seconds ago.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀john constantine 🛁

— christ. why was being with a woman so hard? to him , they were sensitive being loaded with unnecessary emotions and uneven hormones. you and him had gotten into another argument and haven’t talked in weeks.

— he kept telling himself that he didn’t need you and that he waited for you to cave in first. but a man has his needs. and he needed to let out his saved sexual tension.

— his fist would only work for so long. he needed the real thing. or at least look at the real thing. he remembers the stacked of recorded sex tapes the both of you needed.

“fuck it.” he tosses his cigarette across the room after budding it out. he walks over the the pile of tapes. special tapes. if you wouldn’t give it up , he had a way to still get off with you. he pulls out his cock out its confinement , groaning as he sees how angry his tip is , oozing pre-cum. “sonfabitch.” he presses the play button , stroking his length. “john.” your moans came from the speakers of the tv. his grip on your hips were like iron. his tip kisses the hilt of your cunt , making your brain feel like mush. “please.” you grab his hand , attempting to pull it off you. “move.” he swats your head away. “stay still.” he groan , his head lolling backwards. “goddamnit!” he groans, tucking himself back in. he reaches for his phone, looking for your contact. the line goes to voicemail but that doesn’t stop him. “baby, i’m sorry. just come over.”

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ mr. wick ✏️

— he’d been really mean lately. really mean. he would lash out at on you with simple things , depriving you of attention , making you feel like shit. and you had enough of it.

— one night , as he was winding down , you straddled his hips , giving him no room to move. and frankly , he wasn’t disappointed. you looked so sexy on top of him , taking initiative. it was until your rode him at he regretted how he treated you.

“baby. i’m sorry. please.” this was the first time you’ve seen him whine, beg none the less. you restricted him the privilege to touching you. he was twitching under you as you rode him to oblivion. “i’m sorry, honey. please just let me touch you.” he tries to touch your thigh, just wanting to touch one piece of you. “fucking touch me one more time and i’m tying you up.” you pull his wrists over his hand. “sweetheart, this is unfair. i just—” he groans as you sink yourself on his cock again. “shit!” he seethe through his teeth. “i swear after you’re done, i’m fucking you through the damn mattress.”

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ kevin lomax 💸

— now listen. just listen.

— after a gala (or whatever you call it) , he just wanted to fuck you in that dress you dawned tonight. he was tempted to fuck you in public , giving everyone a show to see but that would be unruly of him.

— he decided to take you home and have his way with you but you looked too fucking hot for him not to have you right then and there.

“come on, baby. cum on my fingers , please.” in addition to his fingers , his faint country accent was sending over the damn edge. his digits were coated with your slick , making velvety sounds every time they pushed in and out out you. he curls his fingers , pulsing them inside of you. “we’re not making it home until you cum.” he chuckles. “kev…” you moan, leaning your head on the window behind you. the feeling was euphoric , overwhelming. you wanted to let go then and there but he was teasing you bad , making you chase your own orgasm. “i guess you don’t want to feel good. huh , sugar?”

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ neo 📀

— mutual masturb*tion! i headcanon the neo loves this shit. you stroking his cock lazily as his fingers pump inside of you.

— his whimpers and moans make you wetter and wetter by the second. how cute was it to have the one submit under your touch? fucking beautiful.

“you’re doing so good , baby.” the time count has been lost. all you knew was that it was time to kill the lights. both you and neo were restless and needed a quick release. you were too lazy to remove your clothes and so was he. you snuck your hand under his loose sweats , softly grabbing his cock. his hips jerked at the sudden touch. “calm down, baby. i haven’t even started.” you teased. “baby…” your lips ghost over his adam’s apple , nipping carefully at his throat. you spread his pre-cum over his tip , eliciting a loud whimper from his lips. “hush, neo. do you want to wake up the ship?” you softly chuckle. he felt bad that you were doing all the work in his. he wanted to hear you moan also. he missed you after all these runs he’s been on. the only time he could catch you was when he went to sleep. his thumbs draws tight circles around your clothed clit. “n—neo.” you almost fold. almost. “i can’t be the only one having fun, right?” he pulls you in for a kiss. this is gonna be a loooong night.

i—don’t say anything…i had an idea

taglist ;; @iovesia

[nwheregirl]

This outfit. This outfit makes me feral. Idk why.

[thewizardcat]

omfg i can’t do this anymore i need iovesia fics back 😭😭😭😭

[feinv]

neo trains you to be his successor as "the one"

🧋.

this and ur other ask got me thinking thoughts…thoughts…

neo anderson x f!reader. a lil pervy, a lil yandere…

— emotional manipulation. sexual fantasies.

pre-matrix!neo who had the biggest and juiciest crush on you, his fellow coworker. he would often catch himself peering out his cubicle when he was supposed to be working, staring at you, observing your every move. how you walked around in your pretty outfits, chit chatting here and there with other colleagues, or how you would smile and laugh at something, his pupils turning into heart shapes at the sight.

pre-matrix!neo who was too awkward for his own sake to approach you. you were probably into self-confident and extroverted guys who could take the lead in any room they walked in. guys who were experienced in life. and who was he? he was just a dude who was always the odd one, the weirdo.

matrix!neo who had a little huge ego boost after finding out he was “the one” and people literally dreamed of at least touching his arm. meanwhile he still dreamed of you. he knew you were definitely happy with your life, despite it being just an illusion. unplugging you just so he could have you by his side was a selfish thing to do. but he was always creative.

matrix!neo created a hyper-realistic program to replace the never ending thoughts of you in his head. he wasn’t doing anything bad. people fantasized about other people all the time, right? his methods were just a bit enhanced, that’s all.

matrix!neo would soon awfully regret his decision because the program was way too realistic. he was already a man obsessed, but seeing you the way he never actually did…it messed with his head in so many levels. your smooth skin, the soft curves of your body, every dip and slope, how your hands and legs wrapped around him, how your tight walls welcomed him like you were made for each other. your high pitched moans and the way you begged him made him crave you carnally. the last drop of any morals he had left in him literally evaporated. he had to get you, not caring how selfish it was anymore.

matrix!neo had fooled you that you were going to be the next special person. why? he had a feeling. and because he proved countless times that he was indeed “the one” you couldn’t help but believe his words and intuition. he would have you all to himself from the beginning to the end of the day, training you, teaching you stuff.

you were oblivious to his crush obsession on you, but you certainly weren’t oblivious to how handsy he was during trainings, pressing his whole body to yours, his hands lingering a bit longer than they should, his hot breath fanning against your skin because his face was always inches from yours.

soon you would start having weird and a bit…steamy dreams of matrix!neo, which made you nervous and flustered around him, your thoughts wandering to places you shouldn’t go. the guy was doing you a favor, preparing you for something big and you were distracted by your perverted mind. little did you know it was him who programmed those in the first place. but it didn’t matter, because soon enough he would make you his either way ;)

[babsharrison]

MASTERLIST

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Keanuverse

Thomas "Neo" Anderson

Between Worlds - 1.5k

Between Worlds II - 1.1k

John Wick

Safe Haven (series)

Tommy Warnecki

An unexpected defender - 1.6k

Scott Favor

Before Sunrise - 1.6k

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Thomas Shelby

Shadows and Sunlight - 1.4k

[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!

[nemesis-writer]

When I need more updates for __x reader:

[paracosmenthusiast]

Servicing the Tech Guy

Neo x Reader based on the ~dark~ prompt from @johnwickb1tsch circulated to me by a good friend @daisy-is-a-writer

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18+ | sexual content | 4.2k

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It was a long shot and you knew that, and waiting outside of his apartment was (at the least) creepy and (at the most) borderline psychotic.

But what other choice did you have? In your hands, the two pieces of your laptop. You couldn’t afford to replace it, at least, not before your quarterly report was due, which was tonight, by the way, and all of your hard efforts were there in the broken halves of your laptop, you didn’t have time to figure out a solution.

Besides. You were fighting back tears as it was. Two nights ago you had broken up with your long-time partner, it was his fault your laptop was broken, and you didn’t really want to think about it anymore but it was there in the broken device in your hands and you couldn’t avoid thinking about it. What was something you never wanted to see? Oh, yeah. Naked pictures of your (now ex) boyfriend including videos of him rubbing his cock which he had callously sent to… Well… A innumerable number of women over the internet.

The craziest part of it all was that he had sworn to you he didn’t do it, he didn’t cheat on you, that he had been so secretive lately because he was ring shopping!

But your friend had pointed you in the direction of an internet private eye who had hacked into your partner’s accounts and produced the irrefutable evidence so without literally thousands of screen captures in hand, you had a pretty damn hard time believing your partner wasn’t cheating.

And speaking of the internet private eye—fuck, what was his name? Neo? You were outside of his apartment like a goddamn stalker, holding your broken laptop, rapping impatiently on his door.

Last time you’d seen him you’d remembered him as very tall, very dark, with a very low and husky voice and an air of seriousness that unnerved you. Like he’d seen things in the depth of the internet that hardened him.

A big part of you doubted that he was going to take pity on poor little you and fix up your laptop or at the very least, pull your quarterly report off of it, but you had to try. What else could you do?

Tears burned in your eyes again. Damn it. Thought you’d gotten that under control—

And perfect timing, because you heard the lock click, and the door slid open, just enough for you to see him peering out at you.

��Oh, it’s you,” he said. You (idealistically) thought he sounded pleasantly surprised.

You held up your broken laptop, mouth opening to unveil the funny, funny story of why you needed his help yet again, and before you could get it out, a sob burst out instead.

Double damn it.

Neo snapped the door shut—you heard the chain rattling—and then he opened the door fully, now frowning down at you. Just as dark and tall as you’d remembered except he didn’t have that long, black coat anymore. Now he… Honestly looked like he’d just crawled out of bed, in a loose pair of flannel pants and a white t-shirt decorated with a graphic outline of a bunny (hadn’t that been his private eye business logo?).

“Uh, come in,” he said, when it was clear you weren’t going to get words out over the tears, and he stepped back to let you inside his apartment.

It was just as you remembered it a few days ago. Relatively clean and sparse but with the lights off and the windows covered by heavy blackout drapes, not that it mattered now because it was pouring rain outside the apartment building, and half past 10pm.

His hand on your shoulder startled you. “Are you coming inside?”

You shuffled forward, one foot after the other. He reached for the wall and flicked on a light over the entryway, revealing that he’d been cooking and there was a lasagna sitting on the counter looking beyond delicious and smelling twice as good.

You sniffled, and tried to stop yourself from crying further. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I just—I have this big report due tonight, and…”

You gave your broken laptop a little shake. The screen was in one hand, the keyboard in the other.

Neo shut the door, bolted it, and then gave you another little push, guiding you to walk further into the apartment. Away from the plate of lasagna that aggressively beckoned. Your stomach flip-flopped: How long had it been since you last ate? Why couldn’t you remember?

God, this breakup was murdering you. Why couldn’t you have waited until after the quarterly review period had closed?

“Totally fine,” he said. “Uh, have a seat. I’d ask what the problem is, but I think I can put the puzzle together myself.”

And then he reached for your laptop and you reluctantly surrendered it into his hands. His fingers brushing yours startled you—the warmth, almost electrical, did not match the guarded expression on his face.

“Taking the breakup hard, huh?” It’s a rhetorical question. He wasn’t even looking at you, just took the computer over to his desk in the corner, not bothering with the light, and flipped the laptop upside down.

You awkwardly perched at his two-person dining table. The same place you’d perched a few days ago when he’d briefed you on his findings. The parallels depressed you and before you could stop it, a few more tears slipped out.

He looked up like he had some sort of sixth sense and turned around. “Why are you still crying?”

You frowned.

He turned back away and sighed. “It’s easy. The drives and data are all fine, just the monitor is busted. It’ll be ten minutes to pull everything, if that.”

Then he put the laptop down and strode back across the room, you tensed as he passed and you weren’t sure why, except that he came back with a fork and the plate of steaming lasagna and put it in front of you.

“Help yourself.”

You were a little agape. “You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to take your dinner.”

“I already ate.” He walked back to his work station and the conversation was over—you could tell from his curt tone.

One more frown from him, and you obediently picked up the fork. Then he turned away to work on your laptop and you fed yourself.

Actually, it helped a lot. Filling your stomach and not having to think about the breakup, just thinking about the taste of the pasta and the sauce on your tongue, layered with some hearty, almost smoky meat; it was a pretty damn good lasagna.

By the time he came back to the table, you were over the tears. He stood over you for a moment and when he didn’t say anything, you looked up from the finished plate of lasagna. “Uh, thanks for the lasagna. I’m sorry for showing up with no notice. I—How much will it be? I do plan to pay, I’m sorry, I’m a mess right now.”

“Lot of information,” he said. “Slow down. I don’t need payment, seems like you’re suffering enough from the last time I saw you. So. Just take it.” And he placed a USB drive in front of you.

“Ah—” Shit, how were you going to submit your quarterly report?

“I already sent your report.” He tapped the USB drive, and you found your eyes wandering up his arm—he was nicely developed, in a way you didn’t expect from a guy working in tech. Like, at all. “It was pretty easy to log into your work email. You should probably change your password. First name, last name, and your birthday? Seriously?”

You flushed. “Shut up, I’m not that creative. But—um. Thanks. This is great. This is way more than I could’ve hoped for.”

For a moment he was silent, then he reached out and brushed your hair back from your face. A motion that startled you enough to make you jump.

“I changed my mind. I want payment.”

Yeah, you couldn’t fault the guy for that. “Okay—Um, what sounds reasonable to you?” You didn’t have your wallet but you could send it over your phone. If your phone wasn’t dead. For that matter, he could probably just take whatever money he wanted, anyway. Jesus Christ—technology was terrifying.

“I want a date,” he said. “Go on a date with me and we’ll call it square.”

You blinked. Now you were properly agape and for some reason you found it incredibly hard to look at him so you stared down into your lasagna. Or the leftovers of it. “Uh, Neo—fuck me, that cannot be your real name, is it?”

“Close enough to it. What do you need my real name for?”

Not that you really expected him to give you his real moniker. Ugh. “Um, okay. Neo, I just broke up with a long-term partner, I’m… I’m a mess. I don’t really have time or desire to go out with anybody right now, but, you know, in a couple months, sure. Why not.”

He tapped the USB drive. “Now I regret proactively sending your report for you. Alright, then I’ll take a kiss. A long one. And slow.”

You looked up, thinking he had to be joking, and he was smiling, but in a way that put a nervous tizzy in your stomach. Fuck. He was attractive—and tall—and muscular—Honestly, what would it hurt?

“Alright,” you acquiesced. And opened your mouth to continue but he leaned down, one hand reaching out to steady your face, and immediately kissed you.

Oh, he was a good kisser. He was a very good kisser. His lips were soft and when his tongue touched your teeth you didn’t mind at all, because you had to squeeze your thighs together, uncomfortable with the heat growing low in your stomach, and when you tasted his saliva it made it nearly impossible to remember to breathe.

You pulled away.

“I said a long one,” Neo said, murmured it really, because he was still an inch or two from your face, “and slow, too.”

And he pulled your face forward, fingers tight on your jaw, and kissed you again. And you let him. Again. This time you shut your mouth, to keep it chaste, and without a second of delay he bit your lip. Hard. Until you gasped a little at the sharp pain.

His hand slid to your throat, for just a second you wondered if you’d gotten in over your head, except that the rest of your body was very onboard with this new course of action, and you couldn’t breathe well enough to complain, anyway.

Neo pulled you up from your seat, almost roughly, crushing you into an embrace that would’ve hurt except it felt good and strange to be held after the last two very lonely nights, and you breathed out, and he kissed your teeth, and you forgot for a moment what the fuck you were doing and you put your hand on his hip to steady yourself and you felt bare skin between his shirt and the waistband of your pants and it felt hot like fire.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, still kissing you, deeply, and then he put your hand over his crotch and you were confronted by the thick bulge in his pants.

You shouldn’t have done it, should’ve pulled away, but for some inane reason you just—you gave it a little squeeze. Just, you know. Trying to get a feel of how big he was.

It felt big. It was hard to tell (although you didn’t think he was wearing underwear) but you thought it felt pretty damn big. You slid your hand along the waist band of his pants, toying with the button fly, until your fingers slipped through the gap in the front of his pants and you felt the warmth of his bare skin beneath.

Then the two of you broke apart, and you found you were sweating a bit, and your hand was half inside his pants, his skin was hot and you were inches from touching his cock and he was looking down at you, and he was looking down at you, and his eyes were so dark and so—mysterious, and deep…

And besides, you were wet, you could feel it between your legs, you were wet, you were sweaty from nerves, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I am so sorry,” you said. What the fuck was wrong with you? “I—I’m not trying to lead you on. I can’t do this, I just had a breakup—”

“Yeah,” he said. “So you deserve a win. Right?”

And without warning he scooped you up, so easily like you were a feather, hands tight on your thighs, all too close to gripping your ass. More to catch yourself than anything you wrapped your legs around his waist, startled by the sudden change in altitude. And of course it put your pelvis right into contact with that bulge in the front of his pants that you couldn’t seem to stop bumping into.

Oh yeah. That felt big.

He kissed your neck, you felt his teeth nip at the skin, and then he bit down, and the rush of pleasure and adrenaline made you gasp.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “I think I do deserve a win.”

He hmmed his approval, almost like a laugh, and you ran your fingers through his dark hair, gripping it close to the scalp, enjoying the soft strands, the cedar and musk smell of his skin.

Then he turned, still holding onto you, his face still tucked close to your neck (surely he could hear your erratic pulse) and carried you to the bedroom.

A moment later he dropped you on the bed, a little unceremoniously except it was so soft and big and the comforter was so plush that you didn’t even mind. You’d been staying in a shitty motel on account of, you know, the breakup.

For a moment you forgot about your impending endeavor and luxuriated in the soft bed, a little moan of happiness leaving your mouth, and he laughed, rousing you from the moment. “Having fun?”

“Fuck, I missed a real mattress,” you said, and ran your fingers over the comforter. “It’s—Oh.”

He had taken his shirt off, revealing a nicely defined and trim torso. But more than that. He pulled his pants down, then, and you could see his cock unrestricted by his clothes. And you were right. It was big. And thick.

He ran his hand down the length of his cock and smiled at you. “Take off your clothes.”

The authoritative tone made it hard for you to freeze, and without a thought you pulled your shirt over your head and reached down to unbutton your jeans. Why’d you wear skinny jeans? Why did they have to look so damn good but then cause so many damn complications during attempted hookups?

“I thought you were pretty when I first met you,” he told you, causing you to pause. “But you’re more than pretty, you were just so… Lifeless.”

You frowned.

“I don’t think you were really all that happy with him anyway.”

You frowned, further, because thinking about your ex was not going to make this little sexual escapade fun. “Can we—not talk about this?”

Neo smiled, and then grabbed your arm and lifted you up like a doll and turned you over onto your stomach. “You’re taking too long.”

You were stunned by the action so you couldn’t reply, he grabbed the waistband of your jeans and yanked them down to your thighs. Pinning your legs together because goddamn it, why had you worn skinny jeans?

His finger trailed up the inside of your thigh… Down the inside of the other thigh… Then he slid his finger teasing down to the the wettest part of your panties and you flinched at the unexpected touch. “Oh, are you excited?”

“Fuck you.” You were embarrassed and it made the words come out rough. “Can you—not tease me? I told you, I’m a fucking mess right now, and I can’t—I can’t…”

As you spoke, he gently pulled down your panties, and right as you formed the most impassioned part of your sentence, you felt his mouth on your clit and suddenly all the words escaped you. Disappeared into thin air.

Didn’t want to but it came out of nowhere: you let out a soft little moan. It wasn’t that good, just, his lips were so soft, his mouth was gentle and warm and he ran his tongue over you and his teeth passed over your clit just enough to send a shiver through your whole body, and yeah, it was that good. Fuck. Oh, fuck. You moaned but this time it was because you wanted to, because you’d never had the opportunity with your ex because he hated noise during sex—

“Oh,” you said. “Fuck.”

He replaced his mouth with a finger, gently teasing your opening, feeling along your labia, tracing the shape of you, and then gently slid his finger in. When he spoke it was so quiet it was barely audible over the sound of your pulse beating in your ears. “So wet for me already.”

Irritation, hot flash of it. “I’m not wet for you—”

“Why is that so hard for you to admit?” He took his finger out, leaving your walls to clench miserably around nothing, and then for a moment you felt nothing, and when you craned your neck to look over your shoulder at him, it was just in time to watch as he brought his hand down and slapped your ass cheek. Hard.

This time you gasped out of pain and before you could process it, he did it again; and a third time, and a fourth. “Stop! Stop it, Neo, that really hurts!”

He did it again and you braced yourself on the bed, leveraging yourself up onto all fours, so you could turn over onto your side to properly look at him. Except he put his hand on your thigh in such a reassuring manner and said, “calm down. I’m sorry, I got carried away. You really have the most perfect ass.”

The compliment in conjunction with the cool tone disarmed you, and you looked over your shoulder at him, unnerved. Trying to gauge what to do.

He smiled. “Relax. I want you to enjoy this. I just got carried away.”

“Yeah, well, fucking don’t, next time—”

“Next time? Who’s carried away now?” He grabbed the hem of your jeans right at your ankle and in a coordinated motion you found quite impressive, he pulled it over your foot, effectively freeing your leg from the vice-grip of the skinny jeans.

So impressed were you that you offered your other ankle, dumbfounded at the ease, and let him do it again, so you were bare with just your panties rolled down to your thighs, and your ill-fitting bra barely hanging on.

He leaned forward, still meeting your eyes, and then kissed the inside of your ankle. You found yourself thanking the universe that you’d had an everything-shower this morning and your legs were exfoliated and lotioned and everything was shaved or trimmed the way you liked.

“Keep going,” you said. And he smiled again, climbed onto the bed between your legs, and this time his lips landed just above the inside of your knee. You were a bit breathless now. “A little bit higher.”

Your thigh. You swallowed. “Higher.”

He kissed the inside of your thigh, so close, and then ran his tongue over the spot, and up, until he had found your clit again—

You tried to stifle a whimper but he heard it, and then straightened up, wrapping both arms under and around your thighs and jerking your hips up so you felt the whole length of his hard cock against your entrance.

For a moment he didn’t do anything, just let the head of his cock rub against you, until you found yourself clenched in anticipation, until you grabbed at his forearm and hissed at him to do something.

“Do what?”

Why was he playing this ridiculous game? “Put it inside!”

“Put—What?”

You growled. “Put your cock inside me and fuck me, Neo, please.”

He smiled, and reached down to gently place the pad of his thumb against your clit. Stroking in slow and gentle circles that did nothing to alleviate the lust clouding your head.

Then he put the tip of his cock against you and pushed, and it was so much thicker than you were anticipating that you gasped a little. Actually it didn’t feel great—it kind of hurt. “Slow down!”

“Stop it, keep going, go faster, slow down… So many mixed messages.” He still had one arm wrapped around your hip but obligingly he pulled out. For a half a second before he thrust forward and this time the head of his cock pushed all the way in, and you were scrambling to adjust, squirming on the bed except he had your hip pinned so you couldn’t move.

You lay there, breathing a little hard, looking up at him, walls clenched tight around his cock, and before you could tell him that it didn’t feel that great, he slid his hand to the underside of your knee and lifted your leg so he could kiss the sole of your foot.

The soft, wetness of his mouth on your toes distracted you from the mild discomfort of him stretching you out, and worse. You were a bit ticklish so you squirmed and his tongue between your toes was so soft and warm and nobody had ever done that before. You weren’t sure you liked it but it definitely relaxed your taut muscles and you abruptly felt his cock press up to your cervix.

“Fuck,” you gasped, and he gave no more delay, pulling out and thrusting all the way back in until you felt the tip of him against your cervix, “Fuck, Neo!”

Another couple of thrusts and you found it all too easy to let yourself moan. It felt good. You’d never had someone so deep inside you and holy fuck, it felt good.

Neo reached down, scooping up your leg and placing it over his shoulder, lifting your hips off the bed. The angle put his cock even deeper inside you and you let out a little strangled cry, half at the discomfort, half at the unfamiliar sensation of something rubbing against your cervix.

It felt…

“You’re so fucking tight,” Neo said. “You’re really squeezing my cock, aren’t you? Does that feel good?”

You wanted to remind him that you didn’t want to be embarrassed but you kind of just let out a gasp or a moan or something and he leaned down and kissed your neck, tongue running over the sore spot he’d bit earlier, and that made you forget about any embarrassment.

You ran your hands down his bare back, digging your nails into the muscles as they flexed, enjoying the suppleness and the warmth of his skin, until you felt him suck in a breath of pain and you realized how tightly you’d latched onto him.

Tried to apologize—but he simply lifted up your other leg onto his other shoulder and pressed down into you, until your knees were jammed against your collarbone and he could fuck you easily without resistance.

And at the very first thrust that way, both your legs up over your head, you couldn’t hold it a second longer. “Fuck,” you said. “Fuck, fuck!”

Felt yourself squeeze tight around his cock, and release, and squeeze, you couldn’t control it; suddenly the feeling of his abdomen rubbing against your clit as he fucked you so deeply was unbearably sensitive and you were clawing at his back this time to get him to stop because you were—

Oh! It was an orgasm! All your muscles locked up, you gasped out some strangled version of his name—

And then you felt his cock throbbing inside you, and he wrapped his hand under your neck and pulled your head up, compressing your spine even further and—you felt a rush of warmth as he came.

He thrust a few more times, but much slower, and then gently peeled your legs off his shoulders and sat back on his heels to look at you.

You could barely look back at him. Your mouth was open in shock, your abdomen felt like it was seizing, and your vagina was so sensitive that the open air was over-stimulating.

For a moment the two of you breathed, and he ran a hand through his hair. He was sweaty but for some reason you didn’t mind it, didn’t mind his sweaty skin still touching yours. Actually you could probably lick the man clean.

“Did that—”

You interrupted. “I’m—I’m not sure I’ve really paid you back for, uh, helping me with my laptop. But, you know. If you could help me get a new one then I’d really owe you.”

For a second he didn’t seem to get it. And then he grinned. “I think we’ll have to look into some payment plans, then.”

-

the rest of my keanu stuff is on my master list: masterlist

[littlemisslomax]

“Omg Neo’s so hot and badass! I wish I could have Neo, he’s such a cool hero with cool moves.” WRONG. I WANT LOSER, SHY, COMPSCI NERD EXTRAORDINAIRE, THOMAS A. ANDERSON! Bro has probably seen non-virtual t¡ddies ONCE (1) and I want to be the second.