Steve would go to any length in order to have you, and that worried you—a lot.
The Cure & The Cause
Mafia!Steve x Captive!Reader
Steve uses every opportunity to remind you that he’ll do with you as he pleases, whether you're willing or not.
We Can Last Forever
Mafia!Bucky x Ex!Reader
You turn to an old flame in a moment of desperation. Bucky takes full advantage of the situation to bargain for something he's wanted as soon as he set eyes on you.
maybe you could be the one
Chris Evans x Personal Assistant!Reader
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
You tell Chris you're stepping down as his PA. His reaction isn't what you expect.
I Swear I Need You
Dark!Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader
You've been avoiding your husband. Aemond will do whatever it takes to correct that.
John Wick is very sorry he had to kidnap spirit you away to a secluded cabin [for your own good of course] but he is making you tea and keeping you cozy as possible...😈😊
Hai!! I hope your writer’s block goes away like POOF! Here’s my two Keanu characters: John Wick and Johnny Utah.
I feel like they’d be sooo competitive with each other. At first, it’s kinda passive-aggressive trying to one up each other. Then they try to get you into their bed but it ends up with all three of you in bed. It becomes a competition of who can make you cum the most, scream whose name more, or leave the most bite marks.
Heh, I hope you find some inspiration in that!
I totally missed this ask, I don’t know how I didn’t see it until now, I’m sorry 😭
But thank you, I think I am tackling this creative drought I’ve been in and everyone who has sent me an ask has been so helpful! I’m really having fun with this 🙌
Now let’s get onto connecting the Johnny’s!
Famous!Reader and her favourite bodyguard’s John and Johnny. Reader could be a singer, actor, model, politician, athlete, nepo baby… whatever you like! We’ll make John the head of security, he’s in charge and he runs a tight ship. He’d be so strict, not only with the other members of your security, but with you too. Your safety is paramount to him and if you ever try to sneak out to spend some time with friends or worse, a date, he’d already be ten steps ahead of you, giving you a lecture on the dangers of roaming around without any security.
Johnny on the other hand, he is far more lenient, much to John’s dismay. While John’s level of protection can sometimes feel suffocating, Johnny will let you go on nights out with friends as long as he can tag along and he won’t let the fact he’s on duty stop him from joining in on the fun and having a few shots. If a guy at the bar is bothering you, he’ll step in smoothly putting an arm around your shoulder pretending to be your boyfriend to make them back off.
And although John might seem far more professional due to his stricter habits, it’s not only his duty to his role that makes him so protective over you, but the feelings he has for you motivate most of his overbearing protectiveness.
So when John, who had already followed the pair of you to the bar, watches Johnny slip his arm around you while pretending to be your boyfriend, he sees red.
He makes his presence known in an instant, dragging you out the bar with a firm grip on your wrist and Johnny following closely behind telling him to loosen up and not be such a grouch, it’s not going to kill you to have a little fun and tugs you from John’s firm grip until you’re stumbling into his chest and securely wrapped in his arms.
By this point in the night, you’ve drank enough to make you a little unsteady on your feet so you wrap your arms around Johnny’s neck, glad for the support.
Johnny’s job was already on thin ice but now his life might be too with the look John gives him.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he snatches you from Johnny’s embrace, informing the younger man that he better start looking for new employment. This news apparently delights you as you excitedly tell Johnny if he can’t be your bodyguard anymore then he can be your boyfriend.
“Over my dead body.” John would say.
To which Johnny would quip back with; “that can be arranged.”
Warning: Yandere and NSFW content, so proceed responsibly
Yandere John Constantine is...
The kind to purposefully annoy you. Yandere or not, there is something about your darkened eyes, tightened jaws and the heat on the cheeks that gets him going.
Yandere or not, I feel Constantine is one of the 'my love language is riling her up until we have the wildest night' kind.
Yes, yandere Constantine, with all the creative insults, sarcastic comments, and deliberate actions, finds himself drawn to your temper.
Yandere Constantine is the kind to talk down to you while you are screaming, trying to make him hear how you feel. Let's be honest: most of us, at our worst, are not great communicators.
Needless to say, it frustrates you to no end, the disappointment and anger are a build-up for slow erosion and chaos in the making.
But walking away will do you no good.
Yandere Constantine is the type to use his knowledge in the occult to influence your circumstances and life, not you, directly. That would be a direct attack on your soul, and as much of a toxic jerk he is, he does love you, or whatever he is capable of.
Constantine's love is made up of stormy nights, heartaches, the weight of words left unsaid, and a volatile mix of passion, obsession, and rage.
It is addictive, it burns, and at some point, it gets tiring. But there is no escape,
Yandere Constantine is the kind to track you using supernatural means. A connection he has established psychically here, a pendant or ring there. It can be anything.
You are also shielded— especially your aura. Constantine is the type to be paranoid about something dark attaching itself to you or any entity sniffing you out.
Since he truly does love you, despite his shortcomings and even shorter temper, Constantine will try to better himself. At least work on his most toxic traits, like emotionally shutting you out the moment he feels he is becoming vulnerable.
There are days when he is open, and there are days when he pushes you away, and the days when he feels impossible to reach. It's hurtful, especially with his unwillingness to truly commit, at least verbally.
But do not think that you can move on with life. No, yandere Constantin is selfish. Even the thought of someone else being in your mind, getting to know you the way he does, makes him want to burn the world to the ground.
He is not above sabotaging any budding relationship with his skills in occult and generally manipulative abilities.
You are on a date with another man? He doesn't turn up for the next. Or the place suddenly catches fire.
You are taking someone home? The poor man has bloody and deep scratches on his back even before he can begin unbuttoning his shirt. He is leaving a scarred man-- mentally and physically, and even then, Constantine might torment him in his dreams just for trying to touch you.
You are trying to ignore him? Good luck with that. John Constantine will make you come running to him.
NSFW
The bedroom is is church and you are the one he prays to.
Sure, he is trying to at least understand God's plans, but at his core, he is devoted to you alone. You are the light that has led him out of his darkness, the one who shows him hope for redemption,
Yandere Constantine might hurt you emotionally, but everything else at least seems to dissolve when he is making love to you.
Probably the most vulnerable when he is tangled up with you—sweaty limbs, heavy breaths and strings of saliva connecting his learning lips to your eager ones.
Sure, he loves it when you are worked up— your grip is a little tighter, a bit rougher, and your anger radiates off the way you kiss him and meet his thrusts. He loves to bring that out of you. Somehow, your nails digging into his skin makes him feel more alive than he ever has.
But ultimately, he surprisingly adores the soft, sensual lovemaking that, for once, lets him be delusional— to think that things might just turn out to be alright for him.
Yandere Constantine is the kind to love marking you. But he is subtle about it if you do not want him to leave marks on obvious places. Well, that is IF he is not feeling a burning hot ball called jealousy.
And he gets jealous often. As surprising as it seems, but Constantine deep down fears losing you.
That fear translates into the hot, passionate lovemaking in the bedroom. Earnestly, his tongue takes its sweet time coaxing your folds into weeping into his mouth. In the way he holds you, fingers digging into your thighs like he is afraid you might disappear.
It is not painful, but it demands attention; it makes you feel grounded among the waves of intense pleasure that threaten to sweep you away.
Constantine is the type to take in every moment of the feeling when he enters you. No matter how many times he has done this before, it always feels like a scared act.
You see, John Constantine can be nasty, rough and downright degrading, but this one act of physically connecting himself with you is what he holds scared. This is when his eyes soften, and you see him at his most vulnerable.
You are probably the only person he is going to be brave and trusting enough to let inside and see the deepest, darkest parts of him.
You’re a princess, betrothed to don John in an arranged marriage, and Jack is your loyal and devoted knight who’s secretly in love with you.
@scarlettspectra sorry I couldn’t answer your ask directly but tumblr messes with the format of the moodboard if it’s posted in a direct response to an ask idk why 😭
Knight!Jack who was once your childhood best friend, a stable boy with ambitions of one day becoming a valiant knight.
You would sneak out of your etiquette lessons to run around the meadows with Jack, rolling down hills, climbing trees and wading through narrow streams, leaving your satin gowns covered in grass and mud stains.
But as you grew, your duties increased, leaving you with precious little time to yourself and soon Jack could be no longer found at the stables, he was training with the other knights, determined to prove himself worthy of serving and protecting the kingdom… and you.
He earned the honour of becoming your personal guard and from dawn til dusk he was by your side, always ready to shield and protect you from whatever dangers might come your way.
When the time came for you to journey to Messina for your official engagement to don John, Jack reminded by your side to continue his duty as your personal guard.
Jack was stood right behind you the first time you and don John were introduced, watching closely as the bastard prince took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. He hated that smirk that always seemed to remain on the corner of don John’s lip and the way his eyes glinted with trickery and deceit. He didn’t like him one bit.
Jack trailed close behind while don John took you on a stroll around the palace gardens, though the prince desired to be alone with you. He gave Jack an order to leave but Jack refused, insisting he must be by your side at all times to keep you safe. Don John assured him that should anything happen, he was more than capable of keeping you safe himself and, reluctantly, Jack left with a gently nod of assurance from you. Though he didn’t go far, he made sure you remained within sight, watching as don John plucked at one of the flowers and gave it to you. He tightened his grip on his sword.
Jack didn’t know that you wrote in your diary about your childhood memories of playing with him in the meadows. Most recently you wrote about the time Jack had promised you that when he became a knight, he’d rescue you from your betrothed and you’d both run away together. You still wonder about how serious he was.
Unfortunately, don John got his hands on your diary. After reading it, he knew he had to get Jack out of the picture, he wouldn’t tolerate anyone who made threats of stealing his fiancée from him.
Don John fabricated a lie about a secret troop of invaders planning to attack Messina. As your personal guard, Jack volunteered to join don John on his mission to stop the invaders before they reached the palace.
The night before they left for battle, you met Jack and tied one of your scarves around his armour as a token of affection and good luck and you stole a kiss, praying for his safe return.
Don John, Jack and the knights under don John’s command, galloped off at the break of dawn. Once the troop had traveled a distance from Messina, don John and his knights attacked Jack, who put up a strong fight, realising this had been don John’s intentions the whole time. He tried his best, but don John and his knights fought dirty and Jack was left for dead.
Don John returned to Messina claiming victory, taking delight in informing you that your knight didn’t make it. All you wanted was to run to your chambers and cry, but don John insisted that his fiancée would not be absent while the rest of the kingdom celebrates his victory and ensured you remained by his side the rest of the night.
The following day was your wedding day, it should’ve been the happiest day of your life but you were fighting back tears as your lady’s maids helped you into your wedding gown and weaved flowers into your hair.
Then an intruder dressed in armour burst into your chamber, startling you and your lady’s maids. The knight tried to raise to his feet, but he didn’t have the strength, then you saw your scarf, still securely tied to his armour and you knew it was Jack and immediately rushed to his side.
With blood on his hands, he grasped at your dress staining the white fabric with handprints of deep crimson, as you knelt by his side trying to help him sit up but the weight of his armour made him almost immobile.
You frantically worked to rid him of the stiff and heavy plates of metal that were strapped to him, while he tried desperately to tell you something though his voice was breathy and wheezy, you could barely understand until he stilled your frantic movements by grasping your hands in his and looking you in the eye as he said:
You only ever wanted him to find a way out; John, young and determined to protect you at any cost, decides that the only way out is up.
Pagan Poetry | AU!John Wick x F!Reader
Where John stops at nothing to climb the ranks of the criminal underworld until the High Table, cognizant of the name he's made for himself, decides to grant him one of their most prestigious titles: the autem imperator.
"It's done," he said softly. "There's nothing keeping us apart anymore. We're free, you and I."
John's words should've made your heart burst with relief. It meant that somehow, against all odds—against his own life and sanity—he had found a way to sever the bonds that kept the two of you forever shackled to the criminal underworld. The idea was only ever a pipe dream, a fancy that had no grounding in the bleak reality you both traversed.
The cold air that evening was a harsh thing, with biting winds that nipped into the skin of your face. John's hands, big and warm and strong, held each of your wrists gently, as if fearful of snapping them.
Why, then, did they feel so much like a pair of manacles, not unlike the ones that had kept you imprisoned before?
Maybe because the man before you was no longer the man you'd first fallen in love with, and you were only just realizing this now as you stood in the cold, an awful horror beginning to come alive within. If the changes in his personality had been subtle over time, his physical appearance was nothing short of a metamorphosis: gone were the long locks that used to danced around his face; now, John's black hair was cropped uncharacteristically short, slick and swept over the crown of his head. Even his dark stubble was no more.
You couldn't shake off the thought that everything about him felt sterile, hollowed out, as if he had to shed layer after layer of himself to get to this point in time.
John was alive, despite everything he'd done. His presence was a testament to this, but as you stared up into his brown eyes, you realized then that the best parts of him were dead, the facets you loved sanded down to nothing. The thought made you tremble.
He'd warned you time and and time again that there would be terrible choices he'd be forced to make, dark things that would have to be done, and you'd believed him. But now the magnitude of what John had truly committed was laid out for you to see—all of it encompassed in that one golden lapel pin attached to his black wool coat. An emblem that only ever struck fear in those that laid eyes on it.
Standing before you was the The High Table's new autem imperator.
"John," you breathed, unable to hold back your tears any longer, "John, what have you done?"
He pressed his forehead against yours, as if silently apologizing, but his grip on your wrists only tightened. "Whatever it took to keep you."
John Wick purists, please lower your pitchforks and hear me out lol: the idea of Imperator!John has been living rent free in my head ever since I saw this fanart by the talented @boredth, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't quite picture a mature, world-weary John ambitious (or dumb?) enough to assume a role like that. But a younger, somewhat overconfident John? A John that can't help but wonder 'is this it?' after every hit, after all the grunt work, and crave something more? A John that, with the Marquis' aesthetic loosely applied, kind of starts resembling Kevin Lomax from The Devil's Advocate??? LiKe hELlo???? MY BRAIN WAS COOKING, I TELL YOU.
Also while I'm here I need to give shout-outs to those who inspired me to throw myself into the Keanuverse: thank you @johnwickb1tsch @scarlettspectra @fernpetals @casuallyobssessed @discoscoob @sweetwolfcupcake @pointbreakvhs @thatgingernerdgirl for all your amazing stuff, I am eating it all upppp you have no idea
A/N: My main headcanon is that Ted Logan, the one who got sent to military school, is actually Jack Traven. I know, I KNOW I’ve probably annoyed everyone with this already, but I just want to say, when you read my headcanons, remember that Jack is still that same Teddy underneath.
Jack often wanders through flea markets and thrift stores. His closet is full of vintage jackets, old-school jeans, flannels, and T-shirts with retro prints. He never comes back empty-handed, always bringing you little gifts. The man knows your style and tastes like the back of his hand. If you’re into cute, princessy stuff, he’ll find a pink trinket box that makes you squeal. But if you’re more into dark and gothic, he’ll show up with a vintage black necklace so perfect, you’d think it was made just for you.
His favorite boots are scuffed and worn, probably with more miles on them than his car. But he refuses to let them go, swearing they’re broken just right for his comfort.
Doesn’t wear his wedding ring on his finger, keeps it on a leather string around his neck, says it’s safer that way.
Jack used to have piercings back in the day - ear and his tongue. Took them out when he joined the force, but you still remember exactly how that tongue piercing felt against your most sensitive skin. Yeah, some parts of you definitely miss it.
Camping, hiking, all that outdoorsy stuff - he loves it. Even if it’s not really your thing, you tag along because you love him. One time, he told you it was just another camping trip, but surprise! He’d actually booked a cozy lakeside cabin instead. Best. Trip. Ever.
Then there was the time you asked Jack to train you, and he got way too into it. More! More! No weakness here! he barked, like you’d enlisted in the police academy. By the time he noticed, you were already on the ground, completely wiped out. He pulled you up, grinning sheepishly. Shit, babe, my bad. Got carried away.
Jack plays the bass. Nothing fancy, just messing around at home, plucking out random tunes, just enough to know his fingers still remember.
Sings in the shower. You’ll hear everything from classic rock to hit-me-baby-one-more-time hits. He belts it out like he’s headlining a concert, and you’ve got to admit, his voice isn’t half bad.
Jack leaves you sweet notes. Every time you find one, it brings a smile to your face. You do the same for him, slipping little notes into his pocket when he’s not looking.
He stashes gum everywhere - pockets, backpacks, the car. But never the usual stuff like Orbit or Dirol. Nah, it’s always Hubba Bubba or Love Is. And if he comes across a comic that reminds him of the two of you, he’ll tuck it away to show you later. His eyes flick between you and the comic, watching your reaction with that hopeful, puppy-dog look and boyish smile, silently asking, hey, that’s us, right? Right?
Jack’s got a solid collection of printed socks from dinosaurs to burgers. He even has a pair he calls his “lucky socks.” You’ll never forget the first time things got heated between you, clothes flying everywhere, and those bright red socks with giant smiley faces catching your eye. You cracked up, and he just hey, they’re working. I’m here with you, and we’re both naked.
He also stops to feed every stray dog or cat he comes across. Never had pets of his own. But when you moved in together, you got a dog, and now he talks to him like he’s his kid. One day, when he finally retires, he dreams of opening an animal shelter.
Jack’s a reader. He often reads aloud to you when you’re lying in bed with your head on his chest, the sound of his voice a calming backdrop.
He’s the guy who always shows up with party games, never without Jenga, Twister, or whatever will make people groan at first. Harry might grumble, Jack, I’m too old for this, but Jack just goes, c’mon, it’ll be fun! And sure enough, by the end of the night, everyone’s laughing and having the best time, all thanks to him.
He loves watching romcoms, comedies, anything light and easy. He gets enough action and tension at work.
It’s no wonder his jokes have that same romcom charm - easy and sweet. Even on your worst days, he always gets a laugh out of you.
He loves combing your hair just as much as braiding it (if you have long hair). He does it every night before you sleep, a soothing ritual that both of you enjoy. He buys all sorts of pins, rubber bands, hair masks, and shampoos. If your hair tends to frizz, he stands beside you every morning in front of the mirror, patiently taming it. If you decide to color your hair, he’ll always be there to help you with it.
His grooming routine is minimal at best. Wash his face with soap, teeth brushing, done. But shaving is a ritual he never skips, leaving his jaw always smooth.
You were the one who got him into wearing sunscreen. At first, he rolled his eyes, calling it unnecessary. But you convinced him by offering to do it for him. Now, every time you smooth sunscreen over the freckled bridge of his nose, his eyes cross slightly, trying to follow your movements. The look on his face is so ridiculously cute, it always makes you giggle. Then his gaze softens, drifting over your face with quiet admiration as you work.
Jack can barely cook. He grew up eating whatever his dad made, then survived on academy food. But since you started living together, he’s learned how to make a solid breakfast. And that’s about it.
Jack takes over the bed, sprawling diagonally and leaving you little space. You gave up fighting for room ages ago and now just drape yourself over him like a blanket. He doesn’t mind - in fact, he loves it.
Jack is the king of cuddles. Whether it’s on the couch during a movie, waiting at a stoplight. In the middle of the night, he wraps around you like a koala, pressing sleepy kisses into your shoulder.
Forehead touches, nose nuzzles, and quick pecks are his go-to displays of affection. They’re soft, sweet, and spontaneous, and they always make your heart skip a beat.
Scratch or massage the back of Jack’s head, and he’s putty in your hands. His eyes roll back, a deep, satisfied groan escaping him as he practically melts into a puddle. You’re sure if he had a tail, it’d be wagging like crazy.
Jack gets way more turned on when you’re in simple cotton panties, a basic bra, and those cozy wool socks. Something about the way the fabric hugs your body, the way your nipples press through, and the soft textures under his fingers drives him absolutely wild. To him, nothing is hotter than seeing you cozy and half-dressed like that, far more tempting than lace or stockings could ever be.
Jack talks during sex. Whispers how good you feel, how beautiful you are. But sometimes, right in the middle of it, he’ll casually ask how your day was. You don’t even mind. It doesn’t kill the mood one bit. You just keep riding him, telling him some random thing that happened at work while his big, greedy hands roam all over you.
