stole this thought from my friend 🫶
Jason loves taking showers with you. And not only for the times when he takes the opportunity to bend you over as you lean against the wall.
But he loves the bare skin to skin contact. He loves to remember what you feel like, and he likes to remember your touch. He likes the way you trace his scars that he believes tainted his body while you smeared body wash all over him. You always scolded him that the 3 in 1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash weren't as effective as advertised.
But you don't see his body as tarnished or ruined. His scars became a part of him. Just another feature that you love. He liked the way his back was turned. The suds quickly slid down the waves of his muscles. The way your index finger traced along the large, healed gash along his shoulder that stopped at where his spine was located.
He shuddered, and his heart raced when you placed a kiss on it. Like you did with every other scar.
This was your ritual.
You'd wait for him to come home to you, and when he did, he'd stench of gunpowder and iron. So you'd strip away his suit, he can finally breathe, his adrenaline dying down, and you drag him along into the shower.
In some nights where he had some extra energy, the late night showers would end with the water being lukewarm and mixed with both of your milky slicks.
But during most nights like these, he absorbs your soft affection, letting your hands roam and explore his body, loosening up the knots in his upper back, massaging his shoulders.
And when he turns back around to face you, his body towering over you as he blocks the water's path down to you, his arm reaches for your sides, hands following down the shape of your figure. His fingers smooth over the water that makes your skin glisten under the artificial light, calloused palms against your smooth hips, gently squeezing them, pulling you closer.
He rests his chapped lips against your forhead, whispering, 'I love you's as you say it back, the sounds of splashing water muffling your confessions.
You always loved showering with Jason right when he gets home. And it isn't only because you get to see him naked under 5 minutes after he comes through your fire escape. But also because you discover new features around him, sometimes in areas where you wouldn't particularly see when he's fully clothes.
There would be a new wound that you wrapped in waterproof bandages before stepping into the shower. But you'd make a mental note to give the new permanently damaged skin as much love, care and devotion as the rest of Jason's body.
You loved showering with Jason because it was an opportunity for you to appreciate him, his body, and the flaws that come with it. It was an opportunity for you to show your endless love for Jason because you know that he needs the constant reminder that someone truly loves him. And to prove the horrible voices that gnaw the back of his head, telling him that he's not good enough that they're wrong.
Because Jason is more than enough. Because you love him as much as he loves you.
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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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‼️Nsfw‼️ Minors DNI
It's not even your fault. It's JASON'S fault. If he didn't work out so often, his arms wouldn't have become so huge.
It was literally supposed to be an innocent stay at home movie marathon date night. You were on your bed, watching on the small TV that sat on your desk, which was in front of your bed.
Your back was against Jason's chest while his arms were securely wrapped around your torso. One of your hands rested on his forearm, your thumb caressing it every now and again, while your other arm just laid limp on the side. Your head was awkwardly laid on his bicep but was still comfortable, nonetheless.
You honestly couldn't help the thought.
It was just that every time Jason would lean his head over to your temple to give it a light kiss or when he'd snicker at a scene that was playing, his bicep would slightly flex, and you can feel it under your head.
You just wanted to know what it felt like if his whole arm was wrapped around your throat, putting you into a headlock.
Fuck it, it's fine.
You gave his forearm another comforting rub of your thumb before moving his arm, moving it higher on your body.
"What are you doing?" He asks, his focus still on the TV.
"Just getting comfortable," you say, trying to act casual in which Jason shrugs it off. Jason moved his arm the rest of the way, right where you wanted it. But Jason didn't know your actual intentions. Not yet, at least. So he just gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before giving you another kiss to your head.
And you felt it. When he gave your head a kiss. You felt his bicep flex, feeling his muscles choking you a little.
And you wanted more.
You tried to push away the feeling, but Jason let out a strained yawn, and his muscles tightened around your neck. You tried so hard to push it down, but the tiniest little whimper escaped right through your teeth. And you prayed Jason didn't notice.
But he did... But not in the way you expected it.
"Shit, did I hurt you, sweetheart?" Fuck sake, him asking if he hurt you just turned you on more.
You shook your head. "No, Jason. I just..." You were getting needy. But Jason seemed clueless and was getting worried.
"Just what, love?"
You groaned in frustration and gently rutted your ass against his crotch. And fuck, how you loved his reaction.
He groaned and tensed up, making his muscles tense up, too. You let out another whine, both your hands holding onto his arm that rested around your neck, pushing it impossibly closer to your throat.
"Jesus- that's what you wanted, baby? Wanted me to put you in a headlock? Wanted to be in a fucking literal chokehold? Could've just asked nicely, my love," Jason says, his cock becoming semi-hard.
By now, you're dragging your already sopping, clothed cunt along Jason's thigh, whining for more.
Jason laughs. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he denied you the satisfaction?
So, Jason uses his free hand to move your right leg, spreading your limbs apart, and also giving him easy access. He flexes his arm, and in return, your back slightly arches, tightening your grip, your nails digging into his skin, which he doesn't even notice, while you're crying for his touch.
"Shh, it's okay, my love. You'll get what you want," he whispers as his face is buried in your hair, his large, calloused hands caressing your thighs.
You remove one of your hands from his arm, grabbing his free hand that was feeling up your thigh, and you moved it over the wet patch of your sweatpants and made Jason's hand apply pressure to your throbbing pussy.
"Jay, please!" You cry, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Jason smiles, kissing your cheek.
"Anything for you, princess," he mutters. He slides his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling your panties up, letting go of them quickly as you slightly yelp at the fabric slapping your skin.
"Jason, please... please touch me.." You begged.
Even in the moment, Jason's heart melts at your pleads. "You're so polite, my love. Just lie there and let me gratify you," he says as he finally slides his hands past your panties, his middle and ring finger pushing inside the folds of your cunt while his thumb gently massages your clit.
Your back arches even more, crying and whimpering at his touch. Jason groans at the sounds of your moans, especially when your voice jumps an octave every time he tightens his arm that is around your neck.
"Fu-fuck.. You look so pretty right now," he stutters. "A moaning mess, just for me. And for what? Just because you wanted my arm around your tiny neck?"
You started to babble, incapable of forming actual sentences. All you can spit out are strings of 'yes, yes!' and 'ngh- feels so good, jay'. Which, without a doubt, makes Jason's ego skyrocket.
Of course, there's the build-up of tension and straining in Jason's pants right now. He'll get to that later. Right now, he wants to make sure the love of his life is fully satisfied from trying to make her desires become a reality.
Which it has, by the way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my first nsfw thought piece, how'd it go?
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