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velvainee · 14 days

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✦ ⎯⎯ ㅤִㅤ ୭ 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 ( john constantine x reader )

ᨳ ꒰ précis ꒱. You’re powerful witch who finds herself locked away in a secret facility, your powers restrained. John Constantine is tasked with watching over you, but your interactions quickly escalate into a dangerous game of desire and manipulation. 1.6k words

୨ৎ warnings. gagging, blowjob, dark themes, language, manipulation, beat taming, bratty reader, hate to love.

𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, thanks for everyone likes/reblogs/comments on my last fic ! glad to know im doing okay for my first blog, hope you enjoy this oneee 🤍

IN THE DARK CONFINES OF YOUR PRISON, the air hung heavy with tension as Constantine sauntered in, his gaze cold and calculating. You glared at him, your defiance simmering beneath the surface as he lit his cigarette with practiced ease.

“So, still causing trouble, are we?” he sneered, the smoke curling around his lips like a serpent ready to strike.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you leaned back against the cold metal of your cage.

You knew the figure, the both of you shared history. Was it something positive? No. Unforgettable? Yes, sadly.

“You’re not one to talk, Constantine. What brings you down to my little corner of hell?”

A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes as he took a step closer, the scent of smoke and whiskey mingling with the heady aroma of magic that permeated the air.

“I’m here to make sure you behave yourself, love. Can’t have you running amok and causing chaos now, can we?”

You bristled at his condescending tone, your hands curling into fists as you fought the urge to lash out.

“Who appointed you my bloody babysitter? Last time I checked, I don’t answer to anyone.”

Constantine chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, you’ll answer to me, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not.”

He stepped towards a chair and straddled it, his gaze never leaving yours as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Now, let’s get one thing straight. I’m in charge here, and you will do as I say. Understand?”

You bristled at his arrogance, but something in his tone sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

“I swear to god when I’m out of this cage you won’t be smiling anymore,” You hissed. “So no, I won’t be doing as you say,”

A wicked grin spread across Constantine’s lips as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Trust me, love, you won’t like the consequences.”

You swallowed hard, the air crackling with tension as you met his gaze head-on.

“Try me, Constantine. I dare you.”

In the tense silence that followed, the air hung heavy with anticipation, each breath a struggle against the suffocating weight of desire and defiance.

Constantine’s eyes bore into yours, a challenge laid bare in their steely depths as he savored the delicious tension that crackled between you.

But you refused to back down, your resolve like iron as you held his gaze, daring him to make the first move.

And oh, how he relished in the challenge, the thrill of the hunt coursing through his veins like a drug.

With a low growl, he closed the distance between you, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, love,” he warned, his voice a low, seductive purr that sent shivers down your spine.

“I can’t believe they had to put you in a secluded prison like this,” he mocked, a slight smile in the corner of his lips as he leaned away, lighting up a cigar.

“You’re still a little baby—sure you’re like, 380 years old or something, but ain’t that barely an adult for a witch?” He’d snark.

"Oh, spare me the sanctimonious crap, Constantine," you retorted, rolling your eyes with exaggerated disdain.

"You act like you're some kind of hero, but we both know you're just a washed-up has-been with a superiority complex. And for the record, I may be centuries old, but I've got more power in my pinky finger than you'll ever have in your entire miserable existence. So don't you dare patronize me with your petty insults and pathetic attempts at wit,”

Constantine chuckled softly, not amused by how bratty and defiant you were from a few simple jokes he had spoke. He sat there, shaking his head.

“Now, either help me bust out of this hellhole or get the hell out of my sight. Your choice, 'babysitter.'" You’d add.

Constantine's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he took a long drag from his cigar, the smoke swirling lazily around him like a cloak of shadows.

"Touchy, aren't we?" he chuckled, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with casual arrogance.

"But hey, if you're so eager to prove yourself, by all means, sweetheart," he continued, his voice laced with mockery as he gestured towards the reinforced walls of your prison cell.

"Want me to help you break free from those chains and wreak havoc like the big bad witch you think you are?”

He sighed, pondering his decision.

"But just remember, love," he added, his tone turning serious for a moment as he fixed you with a piercing gaze.

"I’d need something in return."

And with that, he leaned back in his chair, the smirk never leaving his lips as he awaited your next move, knowing full well that this game was far from over.

He unlocked the bars of the cell, closing it behind him as he shuffled the keys to undo your handcuffs, the metal now clanking in the ground as your wrists feel free once more.

Constantine clicked his tongue, gently pressing his hand against your shoulder before you started to stand up.

“You owe me,” He reminded you, your eyes flickering up to meet his brown eyed gaze.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Constantine’s demand, wondering if he was serious about this whole debt thing.

“Seriously? Whatever, do you want me to be your sex slave or something?” you quipped, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words as a small chuckle escaped your lips.

Constantine remained silent, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. One corner of his lips lifted into a light smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Narrowing your eyebrows, you suddenly realized that your flippant remark might have hit closer to the mark than you intended.

“It’s nothing big,” Constantine purred, his voice low and seductive. “There’s this motel we can stop by—I just want to see if that bratty mouth can do more than just argue.”

The car ride to the motel was shrouded in darkness, the only illumination coming from the dim glow of the dashboard lights and the occasional flicker of street lamps as they passed by.

The night air was heavy with anticipation, the tension between you and Constantine palpable as you made your way through the deserted streets.

The dingy motel loomed ahead, its neon sign flickering ominously in the darkness. As Constantine pulled into the parking lot, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease wash over you.

With a click of the door, Constantine stepped out of the car, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on, love,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding. “Lets put you to good use,”

Heart pounding in your chest, you followed him into the motel room, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne.

The room was small and cramped, the bed unmade and the curtains drawn tightly shut against the outside world.

Without a word, Constantine closed the door behind you, his eyes burning with a hunger that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

“On your knees,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire as he gestured towards the bed.

Trembling with anticipation, you sank to your knees before him, your pulse racing as you met his gaze head-on.

“I fucking hate you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath as you reached for the zipper of his pants.

With a low growl, Constantine pushed you back onto the bed, his hands gripping your hair as he guided your head towards his throbbing length.

Your tongue slid against the tip, tasting the salty precum that leaked out of the nub.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as you took him into your mouth, eager to please him in every way possible.

As you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of his movements, you couldn’t help but moan around him, the sound sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his veins.

“That’s right,” he growled, his grip tightening on your hair as he drove himself deeper into your mouth.

As he moved back and forth, his cock continued to hit the back of your throat, each thrust pushing you to the brink of gagging.

With each response, you only whimpered, your eyes locking onto his with a mix of submission and desire. They glowed a bright red, a telltale sign of a flustered witch overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“Oh, do you like this?” he mocked, his smirk widening as he increased the pace, his cock sliding between your small, plump lips.

“And here I thought you hated me,” he’d add. A strand of your dress slipped off your shoulder, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze.

“I bet this witch would like more than one hole filled,” he laughed, the sound mingling with your muffled moans as he drove himself deeper into your mouth.

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your body trembling with desire for more.

“I’m close, baby—stay like that for me,” he huffed, his movements becoming more urgent as he neared the edge of ecstasy.

The sight of you, on your knees before him, your mouth stretched around his twitching cock, was enough to push him over the edge.

And as he reached the peak of pleasure, spilling himself into your eager mouth, you couldn’t help but revel in the intoxicating sensation of him filling you completely.

He leaned back, watching as his hot seed filled your entire mouth, an amused smirk now on his lips.

“You know, you’re really pretty like this.”

♡ 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑

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mlmxreader · 28 days

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Quizzical | John Constantine x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi, I hope it's not too late to request John Constantine with the prompt "It must be magic, how inside your eyes, I see my destiny" of your list? ❞

: ̗̀➛ However he does it is a mystery, but John always finds a way to surprise you.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, VERY VERY mild sex references

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Stretching out on your sofa, John made himself more than at home; his shoes were chucked aside somewhere between the fireplace and the sofa, and his coat had long been tossed to the floor somewhere he didn’t actually care to look.

His tie was completely undone, sitting open against his off-white shirt as he watched you go about picking his things up and putting them away properly; he smiled, tilting his head to the side and watching you curiously.

Of all the beings in the world that he had been with, John kept finding himself coming back to you every single time; he thought at first that maybe it was just the overnight stays, but he soon pushed that aside when he realised that it was something else.

No, you were different. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t pry, or that you understood almost completely what it was like for him; maybe it was just the fact that you were more open and more accepting and welcoming of him than anybody else in the world.

He put his feet up, relaxing and closing his eyes as he yawned softly; a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth for just a moment too long that you noticed, smacking his ankle to grab his attention.

“Oi! If you’re gonna sit there like bloody King Shit of Dung Manner, least you could do is go and make a fuckin’ butty, would ya?”

John grinned, spreading his legs so that one slipped off of the sofa, giving you more than enough room to sit between his legs as he looked you up and down eagerly. “Now why would I do that, eh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes and to chastise him for not doing anything for you while you were expected to clean up after him, but you could only sigh as you raked a hand down your face and shrugged. “Maybe because I have to put up with Bruce Wayne every fucking day?”

“You wanted the job,” he pointed out. “If you didn’t wanna be his assistant, you wouldn’t’ve taken the job. You said so yourself that you was happy enough working as his social whatever manager.”

“Social media manager,” you huffed. “And I was! I really was! But the money is better, and the hours are… less demanding.”

“So don’t complain,” John chuckled, lying back with a smug hum. “I might be your boyfriend, but I’m not your fuckin’ job advisor.”

You paused, stunned for a moment as you looked at him quizzically; he had never used that word before, and you were almost certain that being your actual boyfriend was not something that he would have ever wanted.

He was John Constantine, for crying out loud - he didn’t do relationships. But when you didn’t answer for far too long for his comfort, he raised a brow, looking at you like he was expecting you to say something and he was hooked on every little noise you would make until you spoke.

“What?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Cat your bleeding tongue?”

You shook your head, trying to come to your senses as you sighed and attempted to put the words completely together for once. “No, just… you never said that you were my boyfriend before… and I never thought that’s what you… what you wanted.”

John didn’t seem phased as he gestured at the room around him. “Well, what’d you call the bloke who sleeps with you nearly every night, constantly calls, and is always hanging around?”

“I… I dunno,” you whispered softly. “I guess I just never… never really thought about it because you didn’t bring it up or nothing…”

He hummed, squirming to sit upright before leaning back slightly and resting on his arm. “Well, we’re talking about it now, ain’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “Is that… is that what you want? To be my boyfriend, I mean, is that what you want?”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded back, chewing at the inside of your lip. “So it’s settled, then… now, go make me a sandwich, yeah?”

John rolled his eyes as he moved to get off of the sofa, but he paused to quickly press a soft kiss to your lips before he moved away; you almost missed his presence when he wandered into the kitchen, but you couldn’t deny that there was something… off about the way he kissed you.

It wasn’t hungry and harsh like it usually was, and it wasn’t filled with heat and neediness like normal. It was sweet and soft, and chaste and unexpecting.

You chewed at the inside of your lip, thinking about what it could have possibly meant; of course, you knew that you would probably have to let Bruce down from now on, as he often took you with him as his plus one to events and galas and such - but now you would probably have to tell him that you couldn’t do that, as you were with John and you didn’t want him to think that you and Bruce were a couple.

“Alright,” John announced as he sauntered back in, wiping his hands on his shirt. “I got the cheese on toast going at the moment, I’ll chuck some jam on it once it’s done.”

You hummed as you looked at him, almost shocked. “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

“You alright?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he came to sit beside you.

“Just thinking,” you told him softly, dismissively shaking your head. “Y’know, I’m probably gonna have to tell Bruce, I mean-”

“You’ve been going out with him to all that fancy shit for yonks and I’ve never gotten jealous before,” he pointed out. “Don’t intend to, either. Trust me, it must be magic, how inside your eyes, I see my destiny - and it must be magic if Bruce Wayne ever thinks he’s gonna get in your trousers.”

You laughed quite loudly, playfully shoving him. “You’re an ass!”

“Meh,” he slung his arm around your shoulders. “You love me.”

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 9 months

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Legends of Tomorrow Masterlist

One Shots

Make His Life Hell - Eobard Thawne x Reader

Bridge Battle - Leonard Snart x Reader

Affected Advances - John Constantine x Reader

Complaint No.3 - John Constantine x Reader

Admit It - John Constantine x Reader

Imagines + Mini Fic

Imagine making Constantine jealous during a mission with the Legends

Imagine bonding with Ray in the kitchen about your complicated relationships

Imagine attending Nate’s fathers funeral with the Legends

(Return to the Easy Navigate Masterlist)

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandoms masterlist #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #legends of tomorrow imagine #legendsoftomorrowxreader #legends of tomorrow x reader #legends of tomorrow masterlist #legends of tomorrow #eobard thawne x reader #eobard x reader #eobard imagine #eobard thawne imagine #john constantine fanfiction #john constantine fic #constantine imagine #ray palmer imagine #ray palmer x reader #ray imagine #nate heywood imagine

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

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How these guys would react to having their face held…

Dick smiles out of habit and pushes his face even further into your hands, humming in content.

He loves it when you held him, however that may be, as it was the one thing he looked forward to the most when coming home.

He’s prone to frequent bouts of fatigue with patrols and the like, but it was moments like these where he could truly appreciate your touch and the healing properties they have on him.

‘I could spend forever here in your hands.’ He’d sigh as he allowed himself to relax within your touch.

‘Oh really? Is that so?’ You raised your brows, watching as the features within his face relaxed into a one that showed you just how exhausted Dick looked. You could see the toll his job his job took but you knew that Dick was too devoted, too attached to what he does to ever give it up, no matter how constantly drained and tired it made him.

You respect his decision to keep doing what he was doing but there came times where you’d just wish he would take a breather from it all, even if it was just for a second, you just wanted to take the weight off of Dick’s shoulders and put it aside for a moment while you work the tension out of his aching muscles.

‘Yeah.’ He responded, feeling himself sink further into sleep. Dick loved what he does but some times he resents it for leaving him with little to no time to spend with you, at least not without him falling asleep five minutes within the interaction. Time with you was sparse and all Dick wanted to do was spend as much of it as he could to make up for the fact that he was barely home at all during the day.

He knew that he prioritised being a hero over your relationship too often and he couldn’t help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it during your relationship. You didn’t deserve to wait up for him every night to make sure he was okay, not while developing heavy eye bags of your own and a lack of a sleeping schedule.

He just hopes that one day you too will realise that you better then what he’s giving you and put yourself first, but you were too selfless to ever do that and he could feel that through the way you trace his features with your fingers with featherlight caresses.

Jason stiffens beneath your touch and goes unresponsive for such a long time that you were worried that you had accidentally crossed a boundary.

So just as you were about to remove your hands from his face, Jason quickly reaches out to grasp your hands and pull them back to cupping his cheeks as he then proceeded to nuzzle his cheek against your palm.

‘Stay.’ He whispered. ‘Please.’

Your heart broke at his plea but obeyed as you began to stroke his cheeks with either of your thumbs, feeling him gradually relax under your touch until he was practically a puddle in your hands.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whimpered, burying his face into your hands so that you didn’t see his tear stricken red face. ‘I don’t deserve this. None of it.’ He adds, cursing himself for being so pathetic but your touch practically broke him in the best way.

In your hands Jason felt as though all his broken prices were being put back together again through love, warmth and patience and that was enough to make him breakdown into tears.

Physical affection is a foreign concern to this poor man, and in due to that Jason is naturally going to be skeptical and on edge the moment the pads of your fingertips explore his jawline, before slowly coming up to cup his cheeks. ‘I’m right here Jaybridie.’ You utter softly as you felt his grip on your wrists slack a little. ‘I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere because nowhere is more important than staying here with you. Just take your time.’ And stay with him you did.

Damian is another one who’s not use to soft touches and sweet affection.

So he’ll initially be on guard when he saw you coming his way with your hands outstretched to cup his cheeks, but will huff and reluctantly rest his face in your palms, he’s extremely stiff while doing so and looking away from you out of initial embarrassment.

‘Get on with it.’ He’d mutter, acting as though such acts or moments of tenderness and vulnerability were beneath him, when in actuality Damian loved the feeling of you hold his face as though it were porcelain. He loved the fact that despite knowing his upbringing you still treat him with a love, kindness and warmth that he has never been shown before.

To Damian it was clear that you didn’t care if he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. You only cared about him, Damian Wayne and he could feel that care through your touch as he vowed to cut through anything and everything that intended to harm you.

Your touch brings him a sense of calm, serenity and peace that brought him back from the brink a plethora of times, especially in moments when his arrogance and brashness would resurface. Damian was thankful for you being in his life, a true guiding light in his darkest moments, and he couldn’t think of any possible way to thank you for everything you’ve done for him but he’ll surly try.

Bruce feels the tension behind his eyes and in his jaw sooth themselves under your touch.

His eyes would slowly close as he brought his calloused hands up to gently stroke the inside of your wrists. Bruce needs no words to describe how he felt because he feels as though his expressions and the noises of content made it clear how much he appreciated you being here with him.

‘You look tired.’ You commented, tracing the weary lines on his hard face with your eyes as he observed your face and the way it showed most of your innermost emotions whether you were aware of this fact or not.

Bruce knew that you worry and that you worry a lot about him in particular when it came to whether he was sleeping enough, eating enough and keeping himself safe whilst fighting on the streets of Gotham. Bruce knew he was as stubborn as mule when it came to his life choices and that you were only just worried about him because you cared for him, but sometimes he wished you would redirect all this effort towards yourself because he oftentimes didn’t think he was worth of your worry, nor your care.

Bruce felt as though he should be the one taking care of you rather than you taking care of him. It’s not as though he hates it, it’s just you’ve shown him on countless occasions of your care towards him, and on even more occasions you have shown him of your unwavering dedication towards him. Bruce also feels like he should be the one paying you back for all the hard times where you stood by his side, watching him practically work himself to the bone and almost into a comatose if you didn’t step in and deal him away from the computers.

For you’ve proven time and time again that you weren’t so easily swayed into leaving, and that was made more true when he felt comfortable enough telling you that he was Batman and the dangers that would come with knowing such knowledge. You however only shrugged and told him that by his side, you were the safest you’ve ever been or will ever be.

‘More so than usual?’ He asked in a way that it might as well have came out as an indignant huff.

‘And by more so than usual you mean constantly, then yes, yes you are more tired than usual.’ You replied as you ran your thumbs under his eyes and across his eye bags as if to emphasise your point. Bruce only huffs as he watched you take in all of him with nothing but love and affection in your eyes and your touch.

John would most likely bite your hand out of an inherent need to be a teasing little shit.

Will boast about the fact that you just wanted to touch up his stubble. He wasn’t lying but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that and instead say; ‘in your dreams John.’

‘Oh I’m sure I am in yours.’ He reply with confidence as he winked, causing you to lightly pinch his cheek as punishment for his cockiness. ‘I hate you.’ You’d say as you push your fingertips through his stubbly beard, enjoying the way it deliciously tickles your skin, almost as though they were little prickly kisses.

‘No you don’t sweetheart, try as you might but you and me both know that for definite that you love me.’ John would state in a matter of fact tone. Once again you hated how right he was, but kept your lips sealed shut as not to give him any more ammunition to tease and contradict you at any given opportunity than you’ve already have.

The air between you is playful and light in comparison to how cynical, sharp witted and sarcastic he usually is on a daily basis. It was a welcomed change as you allowed the blonde to pretend to bite your hand, only allowing for his teeth to barely graze your skin before pulling away with a sly smirk as you scratch at his stubble.

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strangelysimian · 7 months

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DPxDC Prompt: Ghostly News Update

One day John Constantine finds a letter on the table in the House of Mystery addressed to Deadman. He calls for the ghost, and they open it together and are shocked to read the following message.

"Dear Mr. Deadman,

Since you reside primarily on Earth you most likely haven't heard the news. Pariah Dark has been defeated in one on one combat, and his title of king has been passed on. Long may reign the new King Phantom, Ruler of the Infinite Realms.

Unlike his predecessor, Phantom has no interest in conquest nor does he aim for more power. He is also quite fond of humans, and is even known to protect a small town in the United States of America, despite with the Anti-Ecto Laws the local government has passed (Claiming any being containing ectoplasm to be non-sentient thus has no rights. It is recommended you stay out of Illinois for this reason).

Keep up the good work in the Justice League Dark, and if you have any further questions feel free to call us at 1-xxx-xxx-xxxx."

The message is typed out, except for a hand written addition at the bottom.

"P.S. If you could get the JL to do something about those laws that would be great :)

-Phantom"

#dc x dp #fanfic concept #Danny Phantom has a phone for hero stuff #tucker and technus made it impossible to hack or trace #this was Jazz's idea #all of team Phantom helped #Ghost King Danny #danny phantom #DC deadman #dp x dc fanfic #fan fic ideas #john Constantine

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ghostbsuter · 8 months

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The house of Nightingale & Constantine ( P. 1 )

> next part

.・゜-: ✧ :-

You know, when Batman reassured him (was it tho? His way of using words is a bit... confusing.) of bringing in a third person for their common problem, Phantom, Danny, didn't press nor worry.

He regrets it now, just a little bit.

—

Dick liked Danny.

The small guy has been an absolute delight!

(He isn't grinning when he and Damian duke it out, doesnt watch fondly when Danny and Jason exchange the most weirdest ways of insulting someone or when He and Steph gossip, Cass sitting behind him with her hands in his hair.)

(He can see from the corner of his eye the way Tim hides a grin behind his hand, texting Danny someone rapidly and their Guest laughing at random times, the way even Duke, despite wearing the sunglasses, seems to warm up pretty quickly to their new brother friend.)

(It's doesn't help that he has black hair and blue eyes either.)

Danny has been living with them for some time now, temporarily as it may be, and grew on them all pretty quickly.

Bruce told them when Constantine arrived at the cave, seemingly irritated for unknown reasons, and they all were ushered to the elevator.

There is no noise as they arrive, Danny few feet off the ground and engaged on a hot topic with Steph as they go down the stairs.

The moment Constantine is in sight however, has their resident ghost snapping out of the conversation and zooming in on the man from afar.

It's kind of funny? The way his black hair fluffs up like in a Ghibli Movie, the way his eyes narrow to slits, glowing a faint green.

Many shout in alarm at the sight of agitation (?), Dick sees Constantines own eyes glow a eery gold??

It's like two cats staring down one another, a showdown.

(Someone should record this.)

The two meet down in the middle of the cave, Danny is bristling and John scowling.

"Really Bats? A Nightingale?" The blond man scoffs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat, hands roaming for cigarettes probably.

"Excuse me? I thought the line of Constantine died out back then, with the way you handle your stuff." The teen hisses back, a hand running through his poofed up hair.

"Hah!" The Hellblazer gives a mocking laugh, cigar already in hand and lit. "'With the way we handle our stuff'? Weren't the Nightingales out of commission not so long ago?"

The glow might have died out, but the tension only rose higher.

Danny turns to Batman, glowering.

"Asking for the help of the house of Constantine? Are you crazy? Those nutjobs have no self-preservation!"

John's eye twitches at the remark.

"No self-preservation, my ass. Nightingales do nothing but mess with stuff they shouldn't, talk about self-preservation when you have it yourself, pipsqueak."

And Danny? Danny growls.

"All you do is trick every being to do your bidding! One day all of this will catch up to your house and me? I will watch as it burns."

The blonds cigarette snaps in his grip.

"Burn? Me? Doesn't the house if Nightingales hunt the beings we 'trick'? It seems to me that your lineage is already going down as we speak."

The argument (?) continues and the batclan does nothing but watch as if its a particularly interesting tennis match.

(John looks like he's about 5 seconds away from strangling Danny and the teen about to bite off John's head.)

"What's going on?" Finally, Batman steps in.

"What's going on? What's going on?? You said you'd bring in a third person! Not a constantine!"

The bat shows no signs of anything really, when both teen and man whip around to face him.

"I thought you'd know better than to involve yourself with the house of Nightingales."

"I was here first! No take backs!"

"And yet I know bats longer, don't I, pipsqueak?"

"Foolish trickster!"

"Imprudent necromancer!"

(Apparently, beef between two houses of dark exists and they had the chance to experience it first hand.)

(This is one of the many occurrences.)

#dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #john constantine #danny nightingale #the house of Constanine and the House of Nightingale have infinite beef #constanine can and will punt this literal toddler #steph: fight fihht fight #danny and john have family beef #what if danny meets constantine but i do u one better #its hate at first sight #batman has absolute no idea what happening #hes taking it like a champ tho #its jason btw #the one who records this showdown of two feral cats that are alive (or half) despite the circumstances #dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #dpxdc

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radiance1 · 6 months

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The League tried to interrupt a summoning of a powerful being from the Infinite Realms. From the information they collected, the being isn't of the status of a royalty, but they still had to be careful as the being the summoners tried to call forth was still of noble status.

They failed.

The head cultist finished the ritual, the last words to finish the summoning left their tongue and the room was suddenly doused in heat, as black flame came to life from within the circle, twisting and turning, back and forth until a pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from inside the twisting pillar of flame and just as suddenly as the eyes appeared, was the pillar broken apart.

What was left behind was the figure of a giant phoenix, wings spread as embers black as night gently fell down to the floor below and suddenly disappearing, as if they were never there in the first place.

"Who dares to disturb-" The being started, eyes scanning the crowd below before stilling, extremely and worryingly quiet. One of them quietly cursed. "Constantine..." The creature's voice was low, dangerously low, no doubt anger in its voice as it called out the Warlock's name.

Everyone tensed, expecting something dangerous, except for the cultists, and the Head, who turned his head towards them and smiled, obviously expecting them to be reduced to not even ash.

"100 years. One. Hundred. Years." The being spoke, and confusion wormed its way into the hearts of all those present. "100 years I have waited for you, and when we finally meet once again it's not even you summoned me but these-" The creature waved a wing at the cultist below. "-These fatuous and vacuous little things."

"And what is this? You surrounded yourself with those not even of human birth before you have even thought about me?" The noble's eyes narrowed. "Did our relationship mean nothing to you?

Someone, probably not Constantine, choked.

"Well then, after all of this time you can at least make yourself useful." In a flash of black fire, Constantine was brought from within the ranks of heroes and in front of the beast, a man who seemed to be trying to-and unsuccessfully- lighting a smoke. "Ah, why do that when you have me?" The being purred, bending down to apparently light a smoke before freezing, as if remembering what exactly it was doing, but the action was already done, and Constantine was killing his lungs away.

The phoenix snapped back up to standing above everyone else, clearing its throat as if what happened decidedly didn't happen.

"What exactly did you want me to be useful for, love?" Constantine asked, expelling the smoke from his lungs and deciding that this might as well be happening. The noble huffed, folding its wings at its sides as it stared down at its apparent lover. "Take care of our son for once in your sad, pathetic life."

This time, not only did Constantine choke, but a good chunk of people there did as well. Constantine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the phoenix incredulously. "Aren't we both men?"

The phoenix looked at his lover as if he were stupid. "Your point?"

"I-" Constantine sighed, took a breath, held, then expelled more smoke from his lungs. Apparently, he decided not to question anything anymore. "You know what? Sure, where is the little bugger?"

Over the next few moments, both the Justice League and Cultists were treated to the noble transforming into a human (still having wings) and handing over their apparent child-who looked nothing like them by being a dragon, but who were they to question the apparent reproduction of a being from the Infinite Realms- and being lectured about what not to do and what to do and how he should be cared for.

Also, a warning for his many powers.

Then the Duke stole a kiss (One that he claimed was long overdue) and left.

The room was silent, only the sounds of breathing occupying the room as the temperature was brought back down to normal levels.

A moment later, Batman walked up to the nearby cultist and punched him across the face and knocking him out cold, suddenly reminding everyone what exactly they were here for.

A while later, in the meeting room, everyone looked at Constantine. Who had a baby eastern dragon wrapped around one arm (who was apparently his child) and rubbing his temple with the other.

"I can't explain this."

===

Danny was actually not Constantine kid, neither was he Vlad's. Biologically, at the very least, however. Vlad did adopt both him and Jasmine a while back after their whole parent fiasco.

They're dead, sadly unable to become ghosts, or perhaps not so sadly.

Of course, they unfortunately outlived Jasmine, which was to be expected, but Vlad and Danny did grow close enough that they no longer viewed each other as enemies.

However, who could have expected that Danny, finally ascending to his princely status, would turn him back into a literal child because he was, for all intents and purposes, one by Dragon standards.

Utter malarkey, he would say.

Taking care of that boy was the worst few memories he has ever had. He was constantly being kept from his sleep, his work being interrupted constantly, and the child managed to find a way to leave his sight at each and every turn.

But there were some sweet moments, he would say.

It's only reasonable, however, that his lover (who he hasn't seen for an entire century might he add) share the workload.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I don't know how to write John Constantine #But I probably can't do worse then the current writers of DC or Marvel.#Probably.#Anyways.#shitpost #At least I think this is a shitpost #Idk #Or maybe its a #crack fic #crackship #But I thought of this and I find it funny so you all shall be cursed with this

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flamingpudding · 10 months

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The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles

A/N: The original this sorta ties too: Original One Shot

>>Masterpost

Shovel Talks

Constantine swore up a storm of course only mentally. It wasn't like he was going to voice any of his thoughts right now. Not when he was faced with the good damn Ghost King. All he wanted was to summon one of his contracted demons to gather some information and what did he get the fucking Ghost King.

"Trench coat! We meet again. You worked on your manners, I hope?"

"Of course your majesty." Well he didn't but he avoided the freaking bats like crazy.

"Well I gotta thank you. Well you and my In-Law that's busy and asked me to substitute for your call since we meet and before and so on." The Ghost King casually waved his hand in a dismissive manner before looking around with his eyes sparkling in recognition and it sent a shudder down Constantine's back. "You are giving me the perfect opportunity."

Did… did the Ghost King just pull out a green glowing sword from a fucking portal and why did he have that glint in his eyes? Constantine paled. Why did this have to happen to him?

"If you will excuse me for a moment. I need to look for a Kryptonian real quick. I will deal with your problem right after. Promise."

With that the Ghost King phased through the floor apparently in search of Superman who just happened to be in the watchtower today. Fuck. Constantine run out of the room in mild panic and pushed whoever was on communication aside as he dialed for the bats. The moment someone on their end pick up he didn't bother to explain anything and just shouted for one of them to get their fucking ass here as fast as possible or superman was going to be history!

Okay that might also have sent the people witnessing his panic into chaos but this was a fucking emergency.

It was only minutes later that Batman did indeed arrived together with Nightwing and Red Robin with the Zeta-Tube at the watchtower to bear witness to Superman getting cornered by the Ghost King with Constantine bound by echo-bindings for apparently having annoyed the Ghost King with his pleading to spare the Kryptonian.

"Now I am sure I don't have to repeat myself but, IF you ever hurt Baby Bat a fate way worse than the Soul Shredder and the Nightmare Realm will be the least of your problems. The last guy that hurt my family is still in there and I will gladly make you permanently join him."

A cough resounded and Danny turned his head, a bright smile on his face as he spotted his little nephew and two of the little babies.

"Baby Bat, Baby Menace and Baby Stalker! I will be done in a little bit!"

"Ghost Ki-"

"Uncle Danny."

Batman let out a suffering sigh as Nightwing and Red Robin snickered.

"Uncle Danny. Why are you threatening Superman?"

"Because Jazz forbade me to use the Soul Shredder on humans but Superman is not human so I am allowed to use it on him."

"Uncle Danny, why do you want to use the 'Soul Shredder'" -as a joke Nightwing used air quotes- "on the him in the first place?"

"Shovel talk."

Batman chocked and Red Robin spluttered as Nightwing had a hard time suppressing a laugh. Constantine and Superman gapped at the Ghost King.

"You… are threading him for shovel talk purposes? What even is the nightmare realm?"

"A place you don't want to be in. Very traumatic and perfect to externally punish anyone that hurts my family in any regard as long as I am allowed to dump them there."

There was an added barely hearable grumble of "I would have sent the Joker and Ra's in there long ago if Clockwork weren't such a stick in the mud about keeping the timeline straight and their roles and bla bla bla."

Red Robin did a double take. Did the Ghost King just admit that he would have liked to sent their rogues into a place that was most likely hell? Wait didn't he mention sending someone in there permanently earlier.

No one noticed Superman slowly inching away from the blade still pointed at him while the Ghost King's attention wasn't on him. Well the bats noticed but didn't react to it, deeming it safer for the Super.

"Uh you said you dumped someone permanently in there?" Red Robin tried to keep the attention on them.

"Well yea." The Ghost King casually shrugged, adjusting the blade so Superman could no longer inch away from him. "I looked away from the Ice Mirrors for a week and someone dared to hurt Moma Bat. Of course I was enraged and snatched that guy off the street to permanently drop him in there."

There was a beat of heavy silence. Batman under his cowl bluescreened especially with how casually Danny just admitted at having snatched up his parents murderer to punish the man. Well that explained why he never found the culprit.

"Now If you excuse me little Babies I am gonna finish this talk with the Kryptonian and make sure he knows what will happen if he hurts Baby Bat."

With this the Ghost King turned back to the rapidly paling Superman with a feral grin. The Birds sweat dropped as Batman was still not mentally present, his mind still working through the information.

"Think I would be able to borrow that sword?" Red Robin suddenly asked as Nightwing eyed Batman worringly. "He only said that Great Grandma forbade him to use it on humans. He never said we couldn't."

"Don't let Robin or Hood hear that." Nightwing said, even if he wanted to borrow it himself too. With B mentally still checked out he had to act as the responsible one. That wouldn't stop him from asking their Ghost Uncle later if he could borrow the sword anyway.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #fanfic #crossover #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #superman #john constantine #DPxDC #Ghost Uncle Danny #Shovel Talks #dc x dp fic #crackish #no beta wie die like danny #drabble

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phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

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Danny is the supernatural IRS

So after danny gets crowned ghost king, it's his responsibility to sort out all the paperwork, complaints, renovations and basicly get the infinite realms back on track

It was going smoothly until he sees afew things suspicious in this one universe...

Theirs someone named Constantine who hands his soul out like candy,

Someone called Klarion keeps messing with the natural balance of his universe while simultaneously stealing artefacts

Something called the Justice Leagues Dark are in illegal possession and use of artefacts and cursed objects

Theres something called a Lazarus pit thats been used for illegal resurrection by Re al ghul

Theres a zombie-ghost baby named jason todd who's been left unsupervised and put in dangerous situations

...yeah...dannys about to go nuts on this universe

Hello misplaced aggression my old friend

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minnesota-fats · 1 month

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John Constantine being Jack Fenton’s distant cousin but still comes by to talk supernatural shit. He grew attached to his cousin’s kids who would always call him Uncle John.

Can you imagine the heartache he would feel when he gets an invite to the youngest’s funeral? He goes and he sees how heartbroken everyone is, he is sad too. Danny was a good kid, he was having some troubles recently but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good kid!

But imagine his surprise at the next Justice League meeting he is forced to attend he sees his nephew floating and gawking at the stars so much that he doesn’t realize who has just entered the room.

#dcxdp #dcxdp prompt #dcxdp idea #dcxdp crossover #dcxdp au #dcxdp fic prompt #john constantine #I always loved fics where John is somehow related/knows the Fenton’s #cute #fun #:3 #danny fenton #fluff #hehe

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cloakedsparrow · 14 days

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Bat Family 'Bruce is Tim's biological parent' AU Idea #1

Wherein Jack Drake: a) Regularly tags along on archaeological digs despite not being an archaeologist. b) Commonly smuggles home archaeological finds despite that not being legal. c) Does not believe in curses, hauntings, or any mythology despite the world that he lives in being populated with *gestures at comics* all that.

As a result, Jack is like a magnet for cursed objects and keeps smuggling the damned things home.

The first time little Timmy suspects this is happening, he knows his dad won't respond well to him suggesting the most recent package he sent home is haunted. He knows he'll respond even worse if he tries to get anyone else involved. So he sends his mom a private email explaining what's going on. Janet replies that he's right to be suspicious, that this has absolutely happened before, and that he was right to contact her. She tells him she's sending over a friend who can help and gives him a password that she'll tell the friend so he knows it's okay to let him in the house.

John Constantine shows up within the hour. Tim is certain he didn't drive there (the alert that someone passed through the gates never went off and no one put in a code to open them) but there is a cursed object in his house and John knew the password Janet gave him, so he's mostly just happy to have an adult there to handle the situation. Even if a somewhat bizarre adult.

John takes care of the cursed object and is impressed that Tim reacted to it much faster than most do. He gives Tim his card with instructions to call him if anything like what was happening starts to happen again or if anything else weird starts happening after his father has been to any digs or sent home any strange packages.

As Jack is the aforementioned cursed object magnet, Tim ends up calling John fairly often for someone who doesn't actively work with the occult and is, in fact, a child. John keeps praising him for catching on as quick as he does and giving him information to catch onto other types of mystical/magical wickedness. Tim gets really good at recognizing when magic/curses/spirits are at play.

Then, Janet dies and Jack goes into a coma. Tim is fostered by Bruce for a year and a half and doesn't have to worry about curses or haunted objects for all that time. When they do come across something of the occult, Bruce/Batman has his own contacts, so there was never a reason for Tim to bring any of it up.

Then, the events of Identity Crisis/Crisis of Conscience occur, and Bruce doesn't want to talk to Zatanna (his usual mystic go-to) if it can be helped. He doesn't want to call in anyone connected to most of the Justice League if it can be helped.

So when they come across a cursed object, Tim immediately identifies it and tells Bruce not to worry, he knows a guy who can handle it. The man knows his civilian identity, so they'll have to pretend Bruce bought the object as part of an action or estate sale lot.

John comes and handles it. Before he leaves he comments that he's glad Tim's biological father finally decided to step up and that Bruce better take good care of the boy.

When Tim explains that Bruce isn't his father, the look on John's face clearly shows that he's trying to figure out how to back-step, but not in the expected way. More in the 'I let on information i wasn't supposed to' way.

Which is how Bruce and Tim end up running a paternity test in the Cave at four am.

Alfred and Dick are delighted by the results.

[Alternative ending: John pulls Bruce aside to let him know that Janet told him Jack wasn't Tim's father and that both he and Bruce were on the short list and he hadn't known Jack died or he'd have contacted him already. They have to wait to find out which of them is the lucky one. Either Bruce turns out to be the father and John just lets Tim know he can still call him whenever needed or it turns out John is the father and they decide Tim should still stay with Bruce but John has visitations. Also, Tim might have been showing signs of his Homo Magi heritage when he recognized all these cursed objects. John insists on teaching him to use his magic despite Bruce's unease with it.]

#dc #comics #funny #ficlet #fic ideas #fic ideas I haven't the time for #Bat Family #john constantine #bruce wayne #tim wayne #tim drake #jack drake #janet drake

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currently-haunted · 7 months

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my final piece for invisobang!

fic: Contractual Obligations by @arzuera and @tathartiel

#dpxdc #invisobang 2023 #invisobang #danny fenton #john constantine #my art #fic rec #curr's art

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tanglepelt · 10 months

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Dc x dp idea 78

The infinite realm had gone livid. Sending ghost after ghost into the mortal realm. Seemingly in a search of something.

John and the league opt to summon the ghost king in hopes of figuring out why? Obviously having plans to seal him off if the need is there.

When they summon him they weren’t expecting what appeared to be a human teenager coming through the summoning circle.

Especially not one with glowing green cuffs. Torso with a freshly bleeding y. Nor the man in a white suit with a scalpel and suspicious green stains on the white outfit.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #justice league #john Constantine #I’m sure something like this has been said before #i haven’t seen any fics with a secondary person coming with mid vivisection #nor any summons that take place directly during it.#just a little thought of mine

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jaxon-exe · 4 months

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Just saw this point vv

That has Danny being Gotham and it has given me ideas!!

So after becoming the ghost king Danny gets a haunt. Now the thing about haunts (for this au) is that they r a reflection of its ruler. It’s basically their inter being made into a physical place.

Well that comes with a unique situation with Danny as he’s half alive. So bc of that half of his haunt is also alive (ie in the living world)

And bc time is more of a suggestion in the infinite realms, the living half of Danny’s haunt is and always has been Gotham.

This is also y Gotham is cursed. At first it was just Fenton luck but over the years power hunger ghost have cursed Danny and in turn his haunt.

Now with the background out of the way here we go

So one day it’s notice that Gotham is a bit more crazy than normal. Not only has crime and rouge activities randomly spiked but the weather is also going nuts. With random storms popping out of nowhere and even a blizzard in mid spring.

Deciding better save than sorry Batman calls in some JLD members to see if it’s magic related and it is. The JLD always knew Gotham was cursed but they can now feel a new and more powerful curse has been placed on the city. So they set about trying to get rid of it and they can’t

At this point is when they decide to pull John out of bed and get him to help to and after a bit of poking around he comes to the conclusion that the curse is anchored to something and so sets about summoning the anchor.

Yeah… non of them were expecting the king of the dead to be the anchor.

What’s worse is that Danny pops up in his spooky eldritch form and they quickly cancel the spell bc NOPE!!

So they naturally come to the conclusion that the king was the one to curse Gotham and he anchored the curse to himself so it couldn’t be easily lifted.

Meanwhile with Danny.

He’s having a rough go at it. This curse is pretty foul and he’s been stuck in his ‘spooky form’ bc his more approachable forms can’t handle it. Now Danny has been trying to get rid of all the curses on him for awhile but it was never top priority, u know with being king and all. Now tho it definitely is. However he’s in a bit of a bind bc ghost cant really remove curses and he doesn’t have the knowledge of how to do it while alive.

But those guys that summoned him definitely do and might be his best shot.

Basically from here it’s the Batfam plus JLD trying to figure out how to brake the curse on Gotham while also being jump scared by the king of the death popping out of nowhere only to be beating off with a broom back to the afterlife. Meanwhile Danny over here is just trying to figure out how to get their help even tho he looks like a nightmare personified and sounds like the screams of the damned

#danny fenton #dp x dc #batfam #dcxdp #dc x dp fic #john constantine

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johnwickb1tsch · 24 days

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Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (AND x Constantine😜) Imagine WIP Part 9

Here we go my lovelies! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @tammykelly @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog

Wick could have been an asshole about buying a brand new kitchen, sundries included–but instead he merely shrugs off Constantine's hostile question. "Seemed like the least I could do."

Constantine glares, but lets it go, begrudgingly sitting down to a delectable meal cooked by the man he knows, deep down, that you've never been able to forget.

At Tex's midday administering of magical medicine, he takes your hand after you finish, refusing to let go. "Set with me a while, Rattlesnake." He pats the couch, on which there is no room unless you were to sit in his lap–undoubtedly his hope.

With a sigh and a knowing smirk you settle back in your chair. Your eyes are drawn to the burn upon his chest. He will carry that mark for the rest of his life, even if the magic is lifted.

You think on what Papa Midnite said to Constantine. "Take some big feeling..."

It kind of floors you, to think of the energy it took for Constantine to conjure that working out of thin air.

For you.

You told him a little bit about the boys. How they hurt you–and, how they saved your life. How you loved them, and how they destroyed you in their abandonment. No matter how you framed it, Constantine blamed them for the bullet wound forever seared in your side.

However, it wasn’t so simple as that.

"Whacha thinking, baby girl?"

You just shake your head with a tired smile. "Nothing important."

"Hmm. You gonna make me guess? Alright. You're thinkin'...bout that time in Mexico it was just you an me and the stars, out by the pool in our birthday suits."

You snort–quite against your will, it turns into a giggle.

"No..."

"Uh huh. You’re missin' my wicked tongue up between your thighs. I know that look."

"That's enough of that," you say, trying to stand. But he has your hand, and he tugs you so that you fall down to sit on the edge of the couch–and half on him. Your faces hover just centimeters away. You watch with horror a he tries to lean in, capitalizing on the opportunity. By the skin of your teeth, your heart in your throat, you just barely manage to turn your head.

"Didn't you miss me, rattlesnake?" he asks, his deep voice all sultry and low just wrecking you to the bone.

You dare reach up to caress his cheek with the blade of your thumb. "Of course I did. But there’s no going back, Tex. Maybe...that time is behind us." Just saying it hurts like a knife between the ribs, but you go on, “Maybe you and John did the right thing, letting me go.”

He just narrows his dark eyes at hearing that. You hate the way it gives you such a thrill, to the base of your spine, and lower still. “I thought you were mad about that? Hell, I’m still mad about that. I miss you so much I can hardly think straight. There’s just…” He frowns while he says it, but you know it’s just because he’d literally rather take a bullet than talk about his feelings. His grip on your hand tightens; he glares down at your silver rings like they owe him money. “There ain’t no point to anything, when you’re gone. Do you know what I mean?”

You close your eyes; for a moment you feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, because you know exactly what he means. You lived it for months after they booted you, drifting from country to country, an empty husk of a woman, a gaping black hole where your heart used to be. Only after moving to LA, thinking about going back to school, and meeting Constantine, did your life start to feel like it had some meaning again.

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” you answer quietly. “But how did you think this would go? You’d knock on my door, and I’d just uproot my whole life for you again?”

“Maybe?” The confusion on his handsome face is almost cute. You realize he really did think it would be that easy, and you snort, looking away to a framed Tibetan Thangka painting on the wall. This man. As ever, you’re torn between kissing him and killing him. You have to keep reminding yourself that the former option is not even on the table.

“At least give me some credit. I coulda come in with guns blazin' but instead I brought flowers."

“You want credit?”

“Yeah. I’m practically a changed man. And I wouldn’t mind an apology from Wizard Boy either.”

"You've got to be kidding me." The pair on this man never ceases to amaze you.

"We were just having a little bit of friendly fisticuffs, but he fucked me up pretty good. That’s called unnecessary escalation.”

He would know.

"Spare me the macho bullshit. There’s no such thing as friendly fisticuffs. You were going to hurt my boyfriend, and you absolutely deserved what he gave you. You’re lucky he got Midnite to lift it."

Only a beat later do you realize you called Constantine your boyfriend within earshot of everyone, which you never do, because you both hate labels and the word just seems too high school for what you actually are to each other–but there’s no going back now.

“But–”

At last, at last, you are in a position where you don’t have to swallow his gaslighting. “No buts. You can behave yourself, Tex, or you can go. I mean it.”

Maybe drawn by the sound of your raised voice, Constantine chooses that moment to intervene, appearing at the foot of the couch with a magnificent frown.

“Well well, if it ain’t The Boy Who Lived.”

You know he’s just making yet another Harry Potter reference, but considering Constantine’s history, this nickname makes you flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake on your part, but you bristle. “Don’t call him that.”

Constantine, however, betrays nothing, just crossing his arms with that blandly judgy expression. “It’s alright, y/n. He loves childrens’ books–a man has to stick to his reading level.” You don't feel like arguing about the complexity of the later books, so you let the arrow fly.

You lift an eyebrow, side-eyeing Tex. “You do know an awful lot about Harry Potter for a grown ass man your age.”

For possibly the first time ever Tex actually looks sheepish. “Had to read something while I was in the shit.”

Tex never really told you much about his tour of duty in the Middle East. Bradford had intimated that it didn’t end well–but you weren’t exactly keen to take everything that asshole had said with any sort of seriousness. The thought of him holed up in a mud hut reading about Hogwarts kind of pulls at your heartstrings for some ridiculous reason.

“So what you want, Wizard Boy?” demands Tex, insouciantly refusing to let go of your hand, despite you tugging on it.

“I was going to check your chakras for malevolence, but I'm having second thoughts now.”

“Sounds illegal in five states.”

Constantine snorts. “You want me to double check Midnite's handiwork or not? If there's a trace of darkness left it could spread– and you'll be fucked all over again.”

“Not the way I like, I'm guessin’.”

“Probably not. But then again, you seemed to like Desdemona at the club. You want an introduction?” Constantine has a sly look on his handsome face as he asks this. It must be the succubus you'd run off– the thought of Tex in contact with her again makes you vibrate with jealousy. It is sharp, and fierce, and utterly fucking irrational.

You should encourage Tex to find someone else.

Your heart just doesn't agree.

“I'll…leave you two to it,” you say, reluctantly standing to pull away out of Tex's grip.

Only belatedly, after you've retreated to your room, do you realize that maybe Constantine interrupted your tête a tête with Tex for his sake, rather than yours.

***

John Wick whips you all up a beautiful dinner of sauteed meat and vegetables, complimented with a nice bottle of dry red wine that you're sure did not come from Trader Joe's. You play his sous chef, chopping up veggies, and it almost feels like old times in the kitchen, although he never would have given you access to a big sharp knife before. As though you ever would have had the nerve to stab him.

Tex was another matter.

At first you all sit down to share a semi-awkward meal, peppered with halting silences–until the second bottle of wine comes out, and then things flow more smoothly. It starts with Constantine cracking a joke at Tex's expense, which is surprisingly backed by Wick with a witty aside. Tex responds good naturedly, for once, and you just sit back and watch with a smile, a warm glow in your chest that feels too close to bliss to possibly last.

You help Wick with the dishes, drying as he washes because your dish rack is tiny. “You look tired, sweetheart,” he says after the last plate, bending down to kiss your forehead. You forget. You fucking forget that there are two other people there, one of whom is your current lover, and out of longing and pure habit you tilt your head back for the second staggeringly sweet kiss on your lips that always followed.

Only a long beat later do you realize what you've done, with Wick's shining dark eyes looking down on you, missing nothing. You gasp like a scandalized school girl, taking a small step back. “You're right,” you agree. “I am tired. Good night, everyone.” You're such a coward you can't even lift your head to look at any of them, though you can feel their eyes upon you as you scurry away.

Once in the sanctuary of your room you collapse on the bed, clutching the coverlet in your claws for hands, so embarrassed by your slip that you could die. You know that Constantine loves you, even if he’s never outright said it, and honestly probably never will–and this is how you repay him.

You really are a piece of work.

***

After you retreat, a silence falls over the kitchen, the three formidable men eyeing each other like wolves amidst a power struggle, trying to decide who is the weakest link and who is alpha. It’s Constantine who stands without a word, fetching his green glass bottle of Ardbeg single-malt scotch and setting it down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Then he produces three glasses–none matching–and pours out a finger for each.

“Gentlemen.” He looks between the two assassins seated at his table, a part of him flabbergasted as to how he’d even ended up in this situation. Before he met you, if someone told him someday he would find a woman he loved more than the air he breathed, he would have laughed them out of the room.

Not now.

How the mighty are brought low, and pride goeth before a fall, and all that proverbial biblical bullshit that is old as time and yet somehow still applies. Despite all our advances, humans are still essentially the same animal we were when we first left the cave and started walking upright–or when God created Adam out of dirt, whichever you find more believable.

“I believe we find ourselves at an impasse.”

“How you figure?” asks Tex, knocking back his drink and helping himself to another.

“Does being in love with the same woman ring a bell?”

Wick smirks, watching the exchange between the two, sipping his scotch sparingly. He does not contradict Constantine’s assessment, but in his succinct way he drives home the finer point. “More importantly, that woman is in love with all of us.”

The thought pulls something like a growl from deep in Constantine’s chest, but in the end he acknowledges, “Exactly.”

Tex smirks, leaning on his elbows. “Don’t be sore, Wizard Boy. Be grateful we broke her in for you.”

Constantine seems to count to ten under his breath, restraining himself from unleashing a curse on this fucking cowboy again. “You’re gonna have to give me pointers on how you manage not to murder him daily,” he says to Wick.

“I only listen to about half of what he says,” Wick admits with a smirk, a humorous glitter in his dark eyes.

“Good to know. My point is, if I curse you both into the Seventh Circle, it would hurt her. Likewise, if you two were to dig me a shallow grave out in the desert. You hurt her enough the first time. Do you follow?”

Wick nods, grasping Constantine’s train of thought immediately. Tex, however, has to chew on it a little–maybe because he’d hoped, for once, to finally have this girl to himself.

“You’re saying you don’t mind sharin’,” finally says Tex with a shit-eating grin, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, I mind,” Constantine is sure to clarify. “But it’s up to her, if she wants you or not. If she decides she wants you to go–I will make you go. If she wants you to stay…” He spreads his big hands, as though to say, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.

Tex narrows his eyes, clearly debating if he should pick a fight over the make you go part, or take it as it sits on the table. “And how do you propose we let her know what we decided about this?”

Constantine snorts at that, draining his glass and standing from the table. “That’s your problem, Howdy Doody. Good night–and may the best man win.” The two assassins watch as John Constantine crosses to your bedroom, and practically shuts the door in their faces.

***

You are drifting on the edge of sleep when Constantine crawls into bed with you. You smile as you feel the familiar pattern of the depression in the mattress, and moan with surprise as he covers your mouth with his. You taste the Ardbeg on his tongue, which explains some of his ardor, but not all. The fury of his kisses on your lips and neck pulls an involuntary moan from deep in your lungs, his big hands digging into the flesh of your thigh, pulling you on top of him.

“John…?” Utterly star-struck, you blink down at him, disheveled in your pajama t-shirt and your hair a mess. He reaches up to cup your cheek, dwarfing your face in his large hand, studying you like there will be a test later. He opens his mouth like there’s something he wants to say to you, but he can’t quite get it out, the words stuck in his throat.

You think you know what it is, and your heart warms for it, that tingling thrill filling your chest and spreading outwards. You’re not even mad, that he can’t say it, because you get him. This is not the week you’re going to push him out of his comfort zone, more than you already have. Most of LA would laugh to hear it, but John Constantine has been a veritable fucking saint the past couple of days, and you’re so grateful to him.

“It’s ok,” you say softly, tracing the line of his square jaw. “I know.”

He frowns, almost like he wants to argue, but in the end he just shakes his head and pulls you to him.

You want to apologize for almost kissing John Wick right in fucking front of him–but that sticks in your throat too. You guess you’re both just a little raw tonight.

He peels off your t-shirt greedily as he guides you down. Hungry lips and a teasing tongue find the sensitive tips of your breasts, making you squirm with longing above him. You know you’ve already soaked through the laughable barrier of your panties, and are probably leaving an unsightly stain on his nice (200 dollar, he likes to tell you with a smirk) white shirt–but if the Chinese laundry down the street can get out demon blood stains, what’s a little cum?

You let out a cry of longing as he releases your nipple with a pop; the ache between your thighs is already nearly unbearable, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against his lean torso. You shut your mouth as soon as you open it, conscious of the paper thin walls and the two dangerous men on the other side of them.

“You like that, baby?” he taunts, hooking his fingers in your panties to tug them down.

“You know I do,” you pant.

“Then let me hear you,” he invites with a wicked smirk, shifting down so that you are nearly sitting on his face. You don’t know what was said out there, but you are starting to get the idea that John Constantine is up to something. But before you can even begin to think what to do about it, he pulls you forward with an undeniable grip on your thighs, and his tongue is laving up your slit.

“Fuck.”

This exclamation is not quiet, and neither are the ones after it. You practically shake the walls with your cries when you cum on his tongue, your body rendered into a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves. He does not grant you mercy, even when you beg him, and by the time he is done with you, you are halfway to your second orgasm.

“Do you want me baby?” he demands, panting from his champion cunnilingus league exertions as he undresses himself. There is a desperation in his tone you’ve never quite heard before, and you have a feeling he’s not just talking about sex.

“I need you,” you tell him, and you mean every word. It wins you every inch of his hard cock buried inside you, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning, as though there is no room for breath in your body when filled with his impressive manhood. He grips you hard enough to bruise, his face buried in the bend of your neck.

He drives himself inside of you, hips pumping with the fury of his need, but he’s prepared you for it. It’s all you can do just to hold on, to the bed, to him, letting him use you exactly the way he wants to, because you know the past couple of days have been anything but easy for him.

When his thumb finds your clit you think you might die from the overwhelming sensation of it. “No,” you beg, somehow smiling through your exasperation. “Please. Mercy.”

He just pays you that impish curl of lips that always seriously makes you question which side he's playing for. “You can take it,” he informs you. “For me?” The way he pouts down at you while simultaneously rearranging your insides should be illegal.

“Fuck,” you swear again, and he grins down at you, knowing he’s got you in the bag. With your ankles around his ears he slows down for you, but still fills you to the absolute brim, working you in just the rhythm he knows you need with the tip of his too-clever thumb. There is a heart wrenching beauty in making love like this. The two of you have reached an understanding of each other's bodies, a point of familiarity in which you just know, and yet somehow each time is better than the last.

It isn't long before you cum on his cock with a ragged scream that you know there’s no way in hell the boys didn’t hear, yet you cannot stop it, you cannot care, because the man inside you has rendered you into a vessel for this mind-bending pleasure and in this moment, you belong completely to him. His hips snap against yours, and soon he follows with your greedy little cunt fluttering around him, spilling himself inside you with a loud groan.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You revel in the sticky warmth of his seed seeping between your thighs, his heart a furious drumbeat beneath your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all you can manage to wheeze against the warmth of his chest.

“Right initials,” he pants, pressing lips to your hair. “Wrong guy.”

Thinking you really might have lost your mind, you start to cackle, and you can’t stop until you literally can’t breathe. You do not even have the energy to clean up, falling asleep in the beautiful mess John made of you, and maybe it’s just you, but even in his sleep John Constantine seems to hold you more tightly than he ever has before.

------------

😬

it's on? 😈😈😈

@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

#wicked johnson fic #constantine x reader #constantine x you #john wick #john wick x reader #keanu reeves #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #tex johnson #tex johnson x you

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