47 with Constantine 😊
Constantine looked startled when he walked into his apartment and found you there, lounging on his couch waiting for him. He glanced at his door lock, then back at you, one eyebrow raised.
“Where did you learn to pick locks?” he asked closing the door behind himself.
“With you of course,” you replied with a smirk. “You are a terrible influence.”
“Apparently,” Constantine just snorted, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it on the couch arm before he came to stand before you, arms crossed over his chest, a hard look in his face. “Came to yell at me some more? I did what I had to do...”
He trailed off, voice muffled as you smashed your lips against his. Constantine hesitated for only a second before his arms came around your waist and he had you pressed against his chest, deepening the kiss.
“We’ll talk about it later,” you mumbled against his mouth. “Right now you’re gonna fuck me senseless because somehow you survived your damn suicide mission.”
“I always survive,” he smirked, tugging at your lip with his teeth. “You don’t have to worry, love.”
“I always worry, John,” you sighed, cupping his jaw, thumb brushing against the scrapes and bruises on his cheeks. “And I always will. That’s what a lover does.”
