#dc john constantine

Wip because I trust the process 😭😭😭

A father

John Constantine x gn!Reader

warning: fluff, panicking John

A/N: AHHHHH I absolutely love this idea!!! This was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoy reading!

John has faced demons, ghosts, and things with far too many teeth to count, yet somehow the sentence “Oh, by the way! I have kids!!” manages to terrify him more than any of them. You say it so casually over coffee that he almost thinks he imagined it, but when he looks at you, you’re simply stirring your drink with the same smile you always wear.

His cigarette hangs forgotten between his fingers as his mind completely erupts into chaos. Kids? Like… actual children? How has this never come up before? Every conversation the two of you have ever had suddenly replays in his head, and somehow he can’t remember a single clue that should have prepared him for this.

He wants to ask questions, but something stops him. If you have children, then they’re the most important people in your life, and the last thing he wants is to sound like that’s a problem. Because it’s not. He just wishes he had known before.

John prepares himself to meet them. He even finds himself standing in the children’s section of a shop, looking out of place while buying a soft teddy bear, a coloring book, and a bag of sweets. He grumbles under his breath the entire time about how ridiculous this is, but he still pays for everything because, despite all his complaints, he wants your children to like him.

Because if they don’t like him, you will reject him maybe. Or never want to talk to him ever again. Block him, or do whatever.

By the time he arrives at your apartment with the gift bag in one hand, he’s rehearsed at least three different introductions and discarded every single one.

Fuck, this is harder than he imagined.

The moment you open the door, you pull him inside with a grin, giving his cheek a soft kiss.

“Hey!! Come say hello to John!” John’s heart pounds as he waits for little footsteps, only to blink in complete confusion when three cats come racing around the corner instead. An orange cat practically launches into your arms, a black cat winds around your legs, and a fluffy gray cat flops dramatically onto the floor, demanding attention.

You crouch immediately, kissing each tiny forehead with so much affection. “There’s my handsome boy! Look, this is my boyfriend John. Say hello!” You coo, scratching the orange cat beneath his chin.

“And my pretty girl. Ohh, you’re a pretty lady, aren’t you?”

John stares, trying to understand what’s going on. “Cats?”

“Well, yeah.” You look up as though he’s the strange one. You smile brightly before proudly gesturing toward each of them. “These are my children.”

He blinks. “Your… children?”

“My children.”

“They’re cats.”

“They’re my babies.”

Silence stretches between you before John’s eyes slowly drift toward the gift bag still hanging from his hand. Without saying a single word, he walks to the nearest open window, opens it a little wider, and promptly throws the entire bag outside.

You gasp. “John! Why did you do that?”

“I’ve spent four bloody days thinking I was about to meet human children!” he exclaims, laughing so hard he has to lean against the wall. “Do you know how terrifying that is? I bought dinosaur coloring books! I didn’t even know their gender.”

You burst into laughter so hard. You’re holding Mister, apparently that’s the orange cat’s name as she purrs happily in your arms.

“Mocha would’ve liked dinosaurs, probably.” You say with a completely straight face, nodding toward the gray cat. “He’d appreciate the effort.”

John lets out the most exhausted sigh you’ve ever heard before walking back over to you.

“You owe me a thousand kisses. I’m absolutely knackered.” He says, though the smile tugging at his lips gives him away completely. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close, and scratches the fluffy cat behind the ears.

“Next time,” He says, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Just tell me you’ve got cats.”

“But they’re my children.”

“They’ve got tails.”

“Your point being?”

“They lick themselves.”

“They’re independent, need no other help. Well, occasionally.”

John groans while you laugh, leaning up to steal a quick kiss. The cats immediately gather around the two of you, purring loudly, and he can’t help smiling into the kiss despite himself.

“I was genuinely panicking.” He admits quietly once you pull away.

“Then remind me to never clarify,” You tease with a grin. “Watching you realize my children have whiskers was absolutely hilarious. I would do it again.”

“Oh, shut up.” John says before kissing you again, this time longer.

“You’re a father now.” You say as you break free from the kiss.

“Alright.” John chuckles before pulling you in for another kiss. Again.

Man. Man, man, man. I've always loved selfless martyrs who refuse to acknowledge themselves as heroes. Love 'em even more if they're convinced they're the problem.

Writing that now, I can't help but look back and notice the trend present in my own catharsis OCs growing up. Gotta love being the eldest daughter.

There are over 300 volumes of Hellblazer, and I'm only a little over 10% through, but after seeing the guy in some of Zatanna's comics (and listening to The Smiths on loop), I am compelled to express just how much I appreciate his character.

A little bit harder now

John Constantine x gn!Reader

summary: Arguing with John.

warning: mutual longing, obsession, emotional dependency (kinda), cigarettes, John trying to joke his way out but fails

A/N: yupyupyup I was listening to A little bit harder now by she wants revenge the whole time

John always acted as if he was the only person in the room capable of carrying regret and every bad decision had somehow become his burden alone to drag through the years and you might have let him continue believing that ridiculous little lie because arguing with John when he was in one of his moods was like trying to fistfight a bear, but tonight you were tired. Tired enough that your patience had finally worn down into something you could no longer ignore.

“You know what really pisses me off?” you asked, standing in the doorway of his apartment while rain fell outside and cigarette smoke curled through the dim light of the room.

“That’s a long list, I don’t even know where to start if I’m being honest.” John didn’t look up from where he sat.

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“That.” His eyes finally lifted and his attention was a physical thing when he actually gave it all to you, suddenly it felt like the entire room was shrinking until there was only him and the one specific calm expression he wore whenever he knew a conversation was about to become uncomfortable.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, love.” You laughed at this statement because if you didn’t laugh you were certain you might scream and shake him aggressively by his shoulders.

“You always turn everything into a joke the second something becomes serious then you wonder why people get frustrated with you and then you act surprised when they’re angry and then somehow you make yourself the victim of the entire situation even when you’re the one who created it in the first place.”

For a moment he said nothing. The cigarette between his fingers burned slowly. Then he tilted his head a little in your direction.

“That what this is about?”

“No.” The lie came too quickly.

“No?” His eyes narrowed immediately.

“No.”

“Right.”

“It isn’t.”

“Course not, lovie.”

“Oh, shut up.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The kind of smile that made you want to kiss him and choke him at the same time.

“You’re angry.”

“Very observant. I think even a five year old could tell I’m angry.”

“You missed me.” Your stomach dropped. The room suddenly felt too warm because he hadn’t said it teasingly.

John could flirt his way through nearly any situation, but right now there wasn’t a hint of amusement in his voice. You stared at him and he stared right back. Neither of you looked away.

“You disappeared for three weeks.”

“There it is, keep it comin’ lovie. Tell me everything.”

“You disappeared for three weeks,” you repeated taking another step into the room because standing still felt impossible, because every emotion you’d spent weeks trying to suppress was climbing back up your throat all at once and refusing to stay buried. “and I had absolutely no idea whether you were alive or dead or bleeding out in some alley somewhere or trapped in another fucking dimension or whatever ridiculous supernatural disaster shit you managed to throw yourself into this time. And then you just walk back in like nothing happened and expect me to act fucking normal.”

“I don’t expect that. Would be worried if you acted like this is all normal.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“But it feels like you do.” John looked away for a brief second which meant this issue mattered. Which meant you were getting somewhere with this conversation. And for some reason that realization hurt. Because underneath all the frustration and tension there was still the truth you’d spent months trying not to think about.

You cared. Far more than you should, more than John had any right to make you care. When he finally spoke again his voice was quieter.

“I thought about you every day.” The confession hit so hard it almost physically hurt.

“What?” He laughs our and it sounded like being caught admitting something he never intended to say out loud.

“I said I thought about you every day.” John wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was staring at the floor, at the cigarette he was smoking. Literally looking at anything except your face.

You knew this wasn’t easy for him too.

“You thought about me…” you repeated quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you call?”

John closed his eyes just for a second. But it told you more than any answer could have. When he opened them again there was something exhausted in his expression.

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“You.”

“What?” Your heart stopped. Why are you the reason now?

“You are the reason.” The words came out rough with a little hint of anger linked. But it was more directed toward himself. He was angry with himself.

John stood up running a hand through his damp blond hair before turning away from you entirely as if the act of looking at you while saying these things had become unbearable.

“You wanna know why I didn’t call?” he asked, voice low and tense in a way you almost never heard from him. “because every bloody time I picked up the phone I started thinking about hearin’ your voice and every time I thought about hearin’ your voice I started thinking about comin’ home and every time I thought about comin’ home I started thinking about you and then suddenly I wasn’t focusing on the thing that was trying to kill me anymore.”

Your breath caught. John laughed bitterly still facing away, refusing to look at you.

“As it turns out, that’s a very very dangerous distraction.” The truth was sitting naked between you. Maybe that should have made things easier but instead it made them infinitely worse.

Because now you knew. Judging by the way John’s shoulders remained tense beneath his shirt, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as though he was physically restraining himself from doing something reckless, he knew it too.

Slowly, you crossed the room, walking towards him until there was barely any distance left between you.

John still didn’t turn around. He was not afraid of demons, ghosts, fuck, he wasn’t afraid of Hell.

But he was absolutely terrified of this: you and of whatever existed between the two of you.

“Look at me.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

“No.” His jaw tightened.

“John.”

“No.”

“Look. At. Me.” Finally he turned. The expression on his face nearly shattered you. There was no charm, confidence written over his face. No. It was full of want and desire. The same thing you had been carrying for months.

His eyes searched yours. They were so fucking tired of pretending.

“You have any idea what you do to me?” he asked quietly.

“No.” You feel your heart beat faster and faster in your chest.

“That’s a lie.” Maybe it was. Because judging by the way his gaze kept dropping to your mouth before snapping back to your eyes as if he was fighting a fight he was definitely losing. Perhaps the worst part was that he knew he had the exact same effect on you. He knew you felt the same things he felt. And that was rather comforting.

With a swift motion John locked his lips on yours, kissing you with so much need, love and desperation it almost feels unbearable.

The kiss wasn’t soft by any means. It was messy and desperate. Desperate to prove that whatever you have going on is real, more than real. John’s hands were on each side of your waist and he pulled you closer until you physically couldn’t be more close to him. Your arms were now wrapped around his shoulders, deepening the kiss.

And for a very long time, you just kissed. Because words couldn’t describe the tension between you two anymore. Only actions could show you now.

Devils Advocate

John Constantine x fem!Reader

summary: Kissing and slightly teasing John after a successful Demon hunt.

warning: MDNI (18+), suggestive, sex mentioned (not described), slightly dryhumping John, killing a demon mentioned , demons, blood, a lot of teasing, cigarettes and their smell mentioned (it’s John, are we surprised?)

A/N: soooo. I was going through my drafts and I found this fic I wrote 2 months ago but I never posted this (I didn’t like it & tbh I still don’t but whateverrrrr here you are, hope you enjoy this <33)😛

People think the Devil’s Advocate means defending the bad guy. But it doesn’t really mean that.

It means being willing to walk into places nobody else would touch, willing to look directly at the worst possibility and ask: what if that’s the truth? Which was probably why you and John got along so well. You both weren’t a normal couple. You both definitely have a lot of issues.

The Demon you’d spent three days hunting with John was now laying dissolved into black ash across the floor, its body unable to maintain shape after John had tricked it into breaking a contract written nearly five hundred years ago.

“You know,” John muttered as he flicked blood, not his blood, from his knuckles. “most couples go out for dinner. Watch a movie together or sum.”

You stared at the ruined long lost building around you, at the shattered glass laying across the floor, at the ash disappearing from the remains of the demon you finally got to kill.

“Most couples don’t spend their evenings arguing with a a few centuries year old demon pretending to be a saint.”

“Fair point, love.”

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. The air still smelled wrong. The kind of scent that crawled into your lungs and stayed there. The creature had been feeding on grief. Specifically the grief of people who visited the building just to seek a little peace from the world outside.

The Demon whispered to them. Because it knew how lonely these people were who came here. Promised reunions, promised dead loved ones and then it hollowed them out from the inside.

But this wasn’t even the worst part, no, it wasn’t. The victims had thanked it while it happened.

John had called it one of the nastier bastards I’ve met. Which considering his life, was saying a lot about the situation.

You leaned against a cracked stone pillar, exhausted enough that your legs felt heavy. Across from you John looked equally destroyed.

His tie hung loose, white shirt was stained with dirt and ash, there was a split in his lower lip and dark circles sat beneath his eyes. He definitely looked awful but at the same time he looked beautiful. Which was honestly sooo annoying. This man looks so beautiful even when he could use a coma sleep.

“You nearly got possessed.” you said.

“I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

“Didn’t.”

“The thing was literally speaking through your mouth.”

“Momentary setback.” John pointed a finger at you. You laughed despite yourself and then he laughed too.

For a moment neither of you said anything. The darkness around the building seemed to disappear a little. This still doesn’t mean that this place is now peaceful or that the danger was gone.

There was another reason. You both survived and you will see another day together. It happened so often that it should have stopped meaning something. But somehow the meaning only grew because every mission carried the possibility that one of you wouldn’t come back. Every time you both did, the relief felt so great.

John understood that better than anyone. You saw it in the way his gaze lingered. In the way he looked at you now. He looked at you as if he’s mentally checking if you’re alright or hurt somewhere.

His expression slightly softened when he didn’t find anything. He thought you wouldn’t notice how his expression softened but you did. John realized you caught it, which immediately made him scowl.

“Don’t.” He warned you before you could even say anything.

“Don’t what?”

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what?” A grin tugged at your mouth.

“Like you’re planning something now.”

“Oh, you think I planned something?.”

“God help me.”

“You loooove me.”.

“You are unbearable.” John groaned

“You love me. I’m your girlfriend and let me remind you of the time you cried when I was on top-” John cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

“I did not cry.”

“You did, admit it.” A smirk is now planted on your face.

“You make my life significantly worse.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night. But we both now it’s after we have sex. Multiple rounds.” His eyes narrowed and your smile widened.

Then he was walking toward you with that dangerous confidence that always made your pulse trip over itself. The same confidence that had talked demons into destroying themselves. The same confidence that somehow survived every terrible decision he’d ever made.

You stayed exactly where you were because moving would have felt wrong and because you enjoyed this far too much.

John stopped directly in front of you. Close enough that you could smell cigarette smoke beneath the blood and dust.

Way too close enough that your heartbeat became a speeding mess.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

“And yet here you are.” His jaw tightened. You knew that look, very very well.

It was the look John got whenever he wanted something and was trying extremely hard not to admit it.

Neither of you looked away and the tension stretched and stretched and finally snapped.

John kissed you first. The kiss wasn’t gentle by any means. Kissing him was never really gentle. There was too much frustration, too much relief, too many things neither of you knew how to say properly.

His hand found your waist. Yours caught the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. The taste of smoke lingered on his lips. The same split in his lip brushed against yours.

The kiss deepened. It turned into something so messy and desperate Like both of you were trying to burn away the adrenaline still trapped inside you.

You could feel his heartbeat. It was beating so fast, you absolutely love the reaction you get out of him whenever you two kissed.

A breathless laugh escaped you when he backed you against the pillar.

“Careful now.” you murmured.

“Why?”

“This place is technically still not safe.”

“Think we’ve done enough damage already.” You laughed again and John kissed you before the sound could fully leave your mouth. His forehead rested briefly against yours.

“You know.” you whispered, “for someone who complains constantly, you seem pretty happy we survived.”

John’s eyes flickered. Something darker moved through them.

“You have no idea, love.” The words landed heavily. You kissed him again but this time a little slower. And when he pulled you closer, when your bodies pressed together through layers of clothing, neither of you seemed really interested in creating distance. The tension that had been building all night finally had somewhere to go.

Your arms wrapped around his neck. His hands settled firmly at your waist. The kiss became heated again.

The kind that made ruined and cursed buildings and demons feel very far away. You shifted closer without thinking, your front now brushing against his hard dick now. You noticed this of course and decided to rub against him a little more. John moaned softly against your mouth.

One of his hands tightened slightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt you but enough to make your stomach flip. The movement drew another quiet laugh from you.

“Dangerous waters baby. You sure you wanna fuck in a cursed building? Risk other demons watching you crying and beg for more?”

“That can wait until we’re back home. Consider this… a reward.” You murmured and you feel the heat creeping up your face, you’re a blushing mess now.

“A reward?”

“We won.”

“We nearly died.” John whispers teasingly in your ears.

“But we didn’t.”

“That’s your criteria?”

“Absolutely.” John shook his head but he looked way too pleased by the logic. Which was probably because it was exactly the sort of terrible logic he used himself.

get it together

pairing - John Constantine x villian!reader getting handcuffed to john might be the best and worst thing to happen to you.

Original ask got deleted by accident, but it was asking for and antihero x villain being handcuffed together

The rain over Gotham City was relentless, turning the alleys into rivers of oily water and neon reflections. The kind of night where every shadow looked alive and every bad decision felt inevitable. For John Constantine, bad decisions were practically a lifestyle. Unfortunately for him, tonight’s worst decision was standing three feet away from you.

You leaned against the grimy brick wall of the alley, arms folded as much as the metal cuffs allowed. The cold steel chain between your wrist and his clinked softly whenever either of you moved. The enchanted cuffs glowed faintly, etched with runes neither of you could break without the other.

Which meant you were stuck together.

“Just my bloody luck,” Constantine muttered, lighting a cigarette despite the rain. The flame flickered before settling, smoke curling lazily between you both. “Of all the lunatics in this city, it had to be you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You say that like you’re a prize.” He scoffed, glancing sideways at you. “I’m a charming bloke with a heart of gold.” you cocked an eyebrow “You tried to banish me to another dimension three hours ago.”

“Well you did summon a minor demon in the middle of a museum.” You shrugged. “It was decorative.”

Constantine dragged his hand down his face, looking like a man reconsidering every life choice he’d ever made. The chain between your cuffs rattled when he shifted his weight. “You’re a menace,” he said.

“And yet,” you replied sweetly, lifting your wrist so the chain pulled slightly on his, “you’re magically attached to me.”

He glared at the glowing runes. The spell had triggered when both of you reached for the same cursed artifact. Typical magical booby trap, bind enemies together until they learned cooperation.

Constantine snorted. “Learn cooperation, it says. Whoever wrote this spell clearly never met either of us.”

You tilted your head toward the street where distant sirens wailed. “Well unless you’ve got a spell hidden somewhere in that trench coat, we’re stuck.” He patted his pockets theatrically. Lighter. Cigarettes. A crumpled note. A half-empty flask.

“Nope,” he said. “Just the essentials.” You stared. “You’re the world’s most irresponsible occultist.” “Oi,” he pointed the cigarette at you, “I’m a professional irresponsible occultist.” The chain tugged again when you pushed off the wall and started walking down the alley. Constantine stumbled forward with a grunt.

“Where d’you think you’re going?”

“You said the artifact bound us until we cooperate,” you replied casually. “So let’s cooperate.”

“With what?” You glanced back over your shoulder, a small smirk forming. “Getting the artifact back.” Constantine froze, eyes staring at you. “Hold on, back? You’re the one who stole it!”

“Borrowed.” you corrected

He threw his hand up “From a cursed vault!”

“Details.” He groaned loudly as you pulled him along toward the street. “I swear,” he muttered, “next time I fight a villain I’m bringing a priest, a shotgun, and a bloody lawyer.”

You looked at him sideways, amused. “Relax, Constantine,” you said. “Think of it as an adventure.” He sighed, taking another drag of his cigarette, a cloud of smoke releasing when he exhaled “Yeah,” he said dryly. “An adventure where I’m handcuffed to a psychopath.”

You smiled. The chain rattled between you as you both stepped into the rain-soaked street of Gotham, already arguing about which direction to go. But despite himself, Constantine couldn’t help noticing something deeply troubling.

You were enjoying this far too much.