#John Constantine fanfiction

[the-bat-bros]

Reblogging every time I add to this post

Last updated on 11/20

Dc Comics Fanfiction Recommendations Master List

Guide: F - Fluff A - Angst S - Smut (All of these are fanfics I either stumbled upon or were recommended to me. All credit goes to the original writers, I’m just sharing their amazing works)

Jason Todd

•(F,A) Featuring the Red Hood drunk hacking a Watchtower meeting to bitch Batman out about not taking care of his birds. He just resuscitated one, and he'll be keeping him. https://archiveofourown.org/series/2804317 • (S) Featuring Jason and Roy having some fun at the gym https://archiveofourown.org/works/45383674 • (F) featuring Jason and Roy’s first Valentine’s Day together https://archiveofourown.org/works/37134484 • (S) featuring Jason and Roy sexting https://archiveofourown.org/works/35150506 • (S) Featuring Roy convincing Jason to sub (and finding out that Jason has a praise kink) https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970054 • (S) featuring Jason making Roy use his words for once https://archiveofourown.org/works/26589262

• (A,F) Where Jason accidentally shoots Nightwing https://archiveofourown.org/works/23438113

Dick Grayson

•(A) Featuring Dick having a ptsd moment when Red Hood goes into a building to save civilians right before it explodes, he can’t lose his baby brother again https://archiveofourown.org/works/41337654

• (F) Where Dick reveals his Nightwing suit to his boyfriend Wally. Set in the Y.J Universe https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804234

Tim Drake

(A) Where he lost his memory and has to deal with the aftermath of it Your Name Is Tim - Chapter 1 - alchemistsarego - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own] •(A) Where Tim Drake is not a child, he never has been. Sure, he was hurt and bleeding, and could very well be dying, but it wasn't like he deserved to have Batman speak to him so softly. Then again, this was what Tim always wanted, wasn't it? https://archiveofourown.org/works/57779317/chapters/147057439

John Constantine

•(S) Where he wakes you up in the middle of the night thinking that you’re facing a nightmare, but it wasn’t *that* type of dream https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671994 •(S) Where he makes it his goal to be the first man to actually please you https://archiveofourown.org/works/7534081

•(S) Where he teaches you a lesson https://archiveofourown.org/works/7742953?view_adult=true

• (S,F) Featuring John stepping up when your date is late https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958566?view_adult=true

More fics will be added over time

[ruskaroma]

Absolutely fucking adore the idea of Constantine having a very talkative and energetic little human around that he calls “bunny” and treats you like one, treats you like a pet.

You really think that you’re Constantine’s sidekick because you follow him around everywhere he goes and you’re basically living in his apartment because you just – never – fucking – leave. No matter what Constantine does, no matter how mean he treats you, you just can’t bring yourself to hate him because he just might be the only light you have in your life – which is a weird thing to say considering Constantine probably possesses the most darkest mind in the world and you haven’t even seen half of it.

When he’s in a good mood, he’d treat you out for a dinner and actually conversates with you like a normal human being (even though nothing about him – or you – is normal) and tell demon and angel stories you’d always find yourself drawn into, chin on your palm, wide doe eyes while listening to his deep voice talk.

Most of the time you’d get very excited about something and very eager to learn that you’re practically vibrating in your seat. It’s such a normal occurrence to Constantine that he knows how to deal with you when you’re in that state of mind.

“Wait so – if demons and angels exist, is there a possibility that vampires are also true? Are they real? Please, tell me they’re real – I mean, have you ever met one before, John? God, that would be so freaking cool. I always wanted to be a vampire –”

Constantine lets you talk. Even though he wouldn’t quite grasp the other words that you’re saying because he really feels like you’re rapping instead of talking. Not to mention the hand movements you’d do while you spew random little facts out of nowhere, or when you’d remember a memory from childhood that you’ll end up telling him; Constantine really does find you quite adorable.

And you’re a bit energetic too. Well, a bit wouldn’t really cover it. You’re full blown energetic who sometimes acts like you drank five cans of caffeine the moment you open your eyes, but Constantine knows all your energy is natural and comes from your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to sit down next to him at a diner without your hands fiddling with something or when you just really… couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s a hard thing to do, really. 

Then there’s Constantine, who likes to take advantage of your behavior by saying something really perverted and inappropriate.

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

“Would my cock be enough to get you to stop talking?”

“Good one. But that would only make it a lot worse.”

“I know. I’ve heard it,” he’d snicker, then would press a kiss on your cheeks that would make you flutter and scoff in annoyance. He always smelled like cigarettes and something minty. “I’m joking, bun.”

“Yeah, it would be a joke if it wasn’t true,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve witnessed my mouth doing a lot more work than usual when I’m sucking your dick.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself, bun. Looks like your mouth got more talent other than talking.”

“Haha, very funny.”

His comments like that don’t really offend you or anything because you know he’s joking. You know he secretly loves your rambles despite being mean about it, because that’s just how he is.

But during sex, it’s a whole different story.

Constantine has a habit of making you cry on the bed by making your rambles even worse. He knows that you ramble when you’re either feeling flustered, nervous, or horny, and most of the time you get all those feelings at once when you’re in front of his cock, which means a sudden flip of the switch inside your brain just goes off and you start saying these deliciously filthy words that never fails to make Constantine hard.

“What’s that, little bun? I didn’t hear you,” Constantine smirked, voice teasing as his hand gripped the base of his thick cock, smearing the dripping tip all over your lips as you struggled to catch your breath after he fucked your throat. “Where did my little talkative bunny go, hm? Why is she not talking?”

“J–John–”

“Oh? What’s that? Is the little bunny speaking?” Constantine mocked, pulled his dick away from your mouth as he gripped your chin with one hand. “If my bunny wants my attention, that’s not the right name she should be addressing me, yeah? Already forgot our rules around here, bun? I let you get a taste of my cock and you’re already defying me?”

“No–no, no, d-daddy, that’s not–that’s not what I mean,” you sniffled, your eyes getting teary from your kneeling position as well as when you heard Constantine’s mocking voice above you. “Daddy, please–just want–just want your cock in my pussy again, p-please–”

“Oh, you do? Poor little bunny is so wet and horny now, hm? My little bunny is feeling so empty?”

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

“Look at you crying. You look so pathetic,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hair and throwing you on the bed. You were already naked, already covered in bruises from the makeout session earlier and the handprint on your ass was starting to become more evident and red as minutes went by. “Where does my bunny want daddy’s cock, huh? Where do you want it, bun, tell me.”

“I–In my–In my pussy, daddy, want it in my–my cunny–” you sniffled again, pawing at his shoulders as your tears were starting to blur your vision. “Daddy, please–please, I want you so bad–miss your cock so much, feel so empty and wet and I just wanna–”

“Shhh, bun, I know. I know what you want,” he petted your hair with one hand while his other was guiding his cock in your cunt, the fat tip circling teasingly on your already puffy pussy lips and not quite going in. “Wish I could record you like this and make you watch it after. Fucking show you how filthy you are while begging for my cock. All the dirty shit you say when you’re so desperate for me.”

You keened, nodding absentmindedly even though you didn’t understand a single word he said. Your mind was only focusing on the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your sloppy cunt.

“Yes–yes, please, daddy, d-do what you want–do want you want, I’m yours–bunny is all yours–”

“That’s right. That’s my little bunny, knowing her place and where she rightfully belongs,” Constantine grinned, and it was only then he slammed his cock all the way inside you, stretching your walls wide as you bite onto his shoulders to keep yourself from waking up the entire building. “I would choose this tight little pussy over entering the fucking gates of heaven.”

[feinv]

can we get some grumpy constantine x sunshine!reader content 👀

grumpy!constantine who would never admit it to himself, let alone to you, but you were the only thing that kept him going. you were sweet and kind, and you were good. you were everything he wasn’t, but you were the only source of light and purity in his life full of sin and darkness.

sunshine!reader who would spend hours trying on cute girly outfits, stepping in front of john and swinging around to show him her look, all smiles and giggles. to which he would blankly reply with “cute,” and shoot a weak smile (if you’re lucky). but he would literally be fuming from inside at how beautiful his girl looked and how madly infatuated he was with her.

grumpy!constantine who is not the biggest fan of physical touch. he shoots daggers at anyone who even tries to shake his hand or pat his shoulder until they awkwardly retract their hands, but allows her to cling to him as much as she wants to. he doesn’t mind her being clingy, although he will always throw snarky comments about it. her hands would always be wrapped around his forearm, or head rested on his shoulder, or she would be crawling on his lap and cuddling his body like there is no tomorrow. “come on now, i have stuff to do,” as if his hands aren’t curling around her with a strong and possessive grip.

sunshine!reader who happily ignores grumpy!constantine’s rude remarks and continues to be as affectionate as she wants. she loves him dearly and she knows he loves her as much, despite not saying it very often.

©️ feinv, 2024.

[k2ntoss]

thinking of mentor john who just tries to handle his apprentice’s teenage dirtbag era 😭😭😭 you know he had a phase like that too and i just wanna know how he would react at his apprentice 😔

i just adore the thought of john's parenthood life, it just makes me giggle so BAD i need to be seized asap mmmmmm

mentor!john constantine, give him a break because the poor man doesn't know well how to deal with the whole teenage dirtbag era and he knows he had one that came out as problematic and messy all the way (sometimes he's still into that era, lets face it) but your teenage dirtbag era? that's different for him and at least he thanks god your's is not as cringy as some other teen he has seen because god forbid you turn into a pick me girl or a weird jock, he'd shoot himself in the head before having to deal with that but having a weird kid? that's not as bad as he has to go through the whole emo phase that will probably not be a phase (i'm projecting myself here, sorry), the insistence of letting you join a band and he swears that's the last time he indulges something like that because that's were it came the kinda punk phase of your teen years and you've been waking him up early on weekends trying to play the drums like travis barker while john tries to sleep his fourth hangover of the week.

"couldn't you at least waited 'til it was a little later, kid?" he asks in a grunt when he shows up at your door and his voice has to be a bit loud as you keep the noise up and john swears he wasn't like this when he was young "there are people here trying to sleep, lass"

but there's no use when you whine about him not letting you express yourself freely and it only adds to the way you've became an outcast, the all black clothing and grunge style embraced with the whole aura of a sorceress' apprentice and john has to deal with it all while asking zee what is he supposed to say when you start talking about this guy you like but would likely never look back at you

[mlmxreader]

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.”

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

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)

[prismuffin]

What if John had an angel friend who got cursed into a baby and can’t use their magic? How do you think it would go? Would he ask Chas for help considering the man’s a father himself? (I got invested in the spnbb!verse and I wanted to know how you’d think it’d be like with John.)

I hope I read this request right I just woke up and rereading it was hard for my brain- anyways I think that-

He’d be so confused before it clicks that you got cursed. He knows the basics of taking care of a baby but that doesn’t mean he wants to. Knowing that Chas may have some pointers he practically forced him to give him advice while getting a ride to the store to pick up some things for you. Dreads the moment he has the change anything on you. When getting you new clothes he cuts little slits in the back of the shirts for your baby wings to poke through and he thinks it’s actually adorable. Your wings are usually so large that they look so cute and mini now. Thank fuck you can’t use your magic because a powerful angel baby would be terrifying. Does a little light magic to entertain you as he watches tv, chuckling at you trying to grab his glowing hand. At least you’re easy to please.

———

Directory

[hbosscreations]

Fixing Hellblazer: Dead in America

Apparently I'm not doing being negative today, so I'm going to channel my bullshit into fixing things.

Let me tell you a bit about me. I love bad horror movies. I LOVE horror movies that aren't great, but you can see how they COULD be great under different circumstances. My favorite thing to do for years was take a movie that wasn't good and think about what needed to be done to fix it.

Dead in America actually has a pretty simple fix that would help with the rewrite. You'd have to rewrite the whole thing, this draft isn't salvagable, but if you really want to tell the story about American Racism, it's such an easy fix, I don't know why they didn't do it in the first place.

Make Noah Ikumelo the main character.

Seriously. That's the big change.

Maybe he's not the focal character for the entire 11 issue run, but have him be the perspective of at least one issue instead of the random racists that keep getting their stories told like we're supposed to care about them.

Issue 1: Flee

Tommy is dead, K-Mag is dead, they're on the run, and John says 'well, I've got friends in America who could help us out'.

Noah's scared, Nat's scared, John seems to have a plan. So, they're off to America with no money, no papers, nothing but the clothes on their backs.

It's okay at first, John's magic lets him manipulate people a bit, gets them through security checks and keeps them fed, but it's definitely not enough to keep them safe forever.

Noah has a bunch of exposition he gives about being black in the UK, about being disabled, about his feelings about his mother (being a cop, being in a coma, being weird about magic).

How he has always felt unheard until John came into the picture and saw him.

They're traveling, the fear starts to wear off, Noah realizes they've fled the country and his mother is alone.

Where's his gran? This is a point to show flashbacks. Maybe she's not mentally all there? Maybe Noah has been sleeping on John's couch. Maybe he's been learning magic during the months we don't see in the original run. Not a lot, John tells him that he likes that Noah's not really involved in this shit.

Until the murder dreams, when Noah starts getting a crash course in magic and hasn't had a chance to think about anything except John and his stupid plans.

The issue ends with them on the freight ship they stowed away on approaching the docks. They've arrived in port, and it's time to leave. John puts his hand on the double decker bus and reassures them both that he's got this. He's got a plan, and things are going to be okay.

He looks fondly at Noah, and Noah wonders if he can trust that face. Can he believe John?

He doesn't really have a choice, does he?

Issue 2: Where is everyone?

This issue is mostly from John's perspective and his narrating voice takes control again.

John reaches out to old contacts. They're gone. Dead or never existed in the first place. No capes and cowls in this universe. Just magic, divinity, and damnation.

They're fucked.

Meanwhile, Noah and Nat both realize that they're being treated differently than John is. Both have experienced different types of prejudice based on race, gender, disability, and now there's an extra layer of it. The American layer that the story really wants to talk about.

John gets a little, but it's pretty clear that people are generally cooler with a blond haired, blue eyed, white man with an accent than they are with Noah's lack of speaking and Nat's heavy Glaswegian accent.

There's a level of cruelty that makes being trapped in another country, unable to call anyone and tell them that you're alive, unable to know if your family is safe, unable to know if you were even a suspect in the crimes committed, extra fucky.

John's contacts he'd normally call are all of touch the easy way.

So, fine. If he can't call them, he'll go to their usual haunts and track them that way.

Hence, road trip.

This leads into the actual comic scene where John is in St. Augustine, Florida and talking to the statue.

You can still have the Girl Scout come and be cryptic and cruel, have John losing his shit over the fact that he's damned Noah to hell.

(Or we can include my favorite headcanon that Noah was supposed to be a tulpa designed to distract John. I don't know if it would work here, but a story about a kid literally designed to be a sponge for prejudice and cruelty might be a mirror this story about racism could play with. It would need a MUCH more competent writer than me and at least two sensitivity readers.)

Noah wants to pull over for a hitchhiker, they've got the space and he's kind, but John cautions him that America is VERY different from London. We learn that Noah has not traveled much outside of his home city if at all because of his mother's profession and then her coma, leaving him in the care of his gran, who lived on the estate and therefore didn't really have much in the ability or desire to go far.

The dream with Dream still happens, which gives us a nice connection to the previous story as well as John's whole...being dead thing. They're looking for the sand, they're looking for friendly faces, they're looking for magic in a world that John quickly realizes is GASPING and DYING.

Because the multiverse still got punched in the dick by Tim Hunter, and while this world hasn't been hit by him specifically, it's feeling some of the multiversal repercussions of an apocalypse that massive.

And John doesn't have the power to get them out of this while he's a corpse. The longer he rots, the weaker he gets.

Dream gives his orders. John agrees.

They wake up, Noah is being threatened by the cop because he's black and driving a bus. We don't make it about the cop being too stupid to know what a bus is this time, instead, we make it because the bus looks strange and 'why is a black boy driving a bus unless he stole it? obviously he's a thief and he's refusing to speak out of disrespect'.

That fucking sucks, but it also works more to the actual threat of racism in the US. The OTHERING. They're dangerous because they're OTHER. They're lesser because they're OTHER.

Nat keeps the cop's gun after he's frozen. She's freaked. Noah's freaked.

John calmly tells them the spell won't last forever and they need to drive. Nat goes to the wheel and we watch Noah sneak up to the upper level and cry.

John watches from the stairs until he's sure Noah is asleep. He doesn't know how to offer this particular kid comfort, how to offer to hold him without revealing his death or just being too attached.

We see him put his coat over the boy as a symbol of protection. He brushes a hand over Noah's head and asks Dream to look out for the kid.

"I know you're pissed at me and I don't really have the right to ask, but hasn't he had enough nightmares for now?"

Noah's dream about all the horrible things he's processing from the previous issue, the previous run, and that night melt into something more pleasant. Maybe the groundwork for him learning John is his father.

John is back with Nat as she's driving. She's angry. The conversation from the original issue can stay and be expanded on. John tries to comfort her, tries to ease the tension, and it eventually works.

She gets what he's doing, even if he's not doing a good job.

This is a Classic John Constantine who cares about other people but isn't necessarily good at showing it.

The sun starts to rise.

"Where the fuck are we going now? We're a target in this thing, John, and that cop's gonna call us in."

John reassures that they're fine and he's got a new plan.

Most of the hero types don't exist now, but that's fine. He's started to tap into the multiversal memories that he'd repressed in the 2019 issue, and he's pretty sure that he's got a friend who will exist in this universe, even if people like Zatanna and Superman don't.

After all, the Green is a multiversal constant.

This leads into the ending of the original issue 1, with the swamp being filled in and turned into a golf course.

And that ends issue 2.

I don't know if I want to invest energy into re-imagining the entire run, and I suspect that would require the run to be finished before I can properly fix anything except the opening. If you actually read this...sorry about the way it's written, this was all just thought to typing, so it has 0 polish.

I think this is a series that could have worked under different circumstances. I think there are elements here that are good, but this was clearly not written with any real oversight or a coherent story beforehand.

I would have loved for them to learn magic on the bus. Scenes of Nat and Noah picking up spells, Nat teaching Noah the proper way to throw a punch that won't fuck up his hands. Noah being REALLY good at making sure they all manage to eat properly (I am deeply invested in this child shoving oranges into people's hands because 'do you want scurvy?').

A scene of John teaching Nat sign language while Noah slept because he's already so isolated and they all need to take care of each other. Nat forcing John to drive, only for him to hit a car and immediately switch back to her driving. Nat reading a novel aloud to keep Noah awake while they drive at night.

Basically, we need to make them seem like they're actual people who actually spend all of their time trapped together.

Also, does John eat? How have they noticed that he doesn't eat? Does he sweat? If he showers, does that damage his skin and hair, since he's apparently molding at the start of the series?

[bi-bard]

I FORGOT THAT I CAN WRITE FANFICTION ABOUT A VERSION OF JOHN CONSTANTINE PLAYED BY TARON EGERTON!

[hiroyildiz]

Fanfic idea:

When Jason inexplicably gets out of his grave and starts wandering the streets of Gotham it's not Talia who finds him, it's John Constantine.

Jason: *Zombying*

Constantine: Ah! A zombie!

Jason: *Holds his hand*

Constantine: Ah! Attachment!

Tim: What'cha got'cha there mr. Magic User who isn't supposed to be in Gotham?

Constantine: *Holding a dangerous artifact he stole from Tim's house*

Constantine: *Shoves Jason forward* The old Robin.

Tim: Holy overreaction, magic man.

Featuring tired-single-mom-of-two Constantine™, magical side of Jason, Tim's house full of cursed artifacts, League of Assassins in distress and bat-kids making Bruce re-evaluate his life choices by getting involved with sorcery.

[proneterror204]

"How much would you pay for john constantine's complete soul?"

In the middle of a JL meeting a white haired, green eyed boy floated upside down in front of Batman.

"200 million"

"Deal!" The boy said extending his hand. Which Batman shook. Then the boy disappeared. Leaving behind one full contract for the complete 100% soul of John Constantine.

Batman held the contract as he smiled, then he started to laugh. Everyone in the meeting was scared and John was sobbing.

( later Batman traces the money transfer to one Sam Manson.)

[ruskaroma]

Constantine making you wear a butt plig that has a bunny tail because your his little bunny :((

JOHN CONSTANTINE WOULD MAKE YOU WEAR A SKIMPY LITTLE OUTFIT IN HIS APARTMENT ALONG WITH A BUNNY BUTT PLUG BECAUSE HE'S MEAN AND HE'S ACTUALLY SICK IN THE HEAD.

constantine would come back home after a long day and he'd see you on the couch laying on your front, wearing the bunny butt plug that he told you to wear, and he won't hesitate to just bite your ass cheeks and leave a very very very very red, ugly bite mark while he wiggles the toy around your hole that makes you SQUIRM.

"my little bunny listens to me so well," constantine praises. "think my pretty pet shall get her reward, hm? what do you think?"

[feinv]

hi i just wanted to say you’re incredibly talented !!and you’ve been feeding me so well these past days with those drabbles 🫶🏻🫶🏻 but i also want to request hc for constantine kinks because this man is gonna be the death of me 😔‼️

giggling twirling my hair ur so sweet ily <3

tw. dacryphilia. somnophilia. blood kink. period sex. overstimulation/edging. corruption.

corruption/dacryphilia.

constantine’s love towards you comes with corruption. anything he does has to have at least an ounce of corruptive motives behind. he thrills seeing your pretty eyes well up with tears and your voice getting all shaky. it just throws him into this void of pure ecstasy.

he would purposely tell you eerie stories of supernatural entities, even making some ghostly creatures (which couldn’t really do any harm) to scare you, so you would run right into his arms, your whole body shivering with tears streaming down your face. he would comfort you, saying words like “see? you need me to protect you,” which is, indeed, true, except from his point of view, what you need is to be completely and utterly reliant on him.

overstimulation/edging.

for the same purpose of seeing your eyes water, he would overstimulate you repeatedly, his movements never actually slowing down because he doesn’t plan on being done with you when you reach your high. he would ignore your pleas of telling him how you are feeling too sensitive, pleasuring you over and over again until you are crying and whining with the tears blurring your vision.

on the other nights, however, he would do the exact opposite. he would spend hours working you up, getting you right to that point when you are about to see stars and float in pure bliss, just to withdraw from your body completely. you would beg him to just let you come, not caring how pathetic you look or sound, and he would totaly relish in it. “please john. i need you. please please please,” you would wail, without even suspecting how good it rubs on his ego, knowing he corrupted you like that as well.

blood kink.

john may seem mean and cold most of the time, but be assured he would never indulge in anything that will actually physically hurt you. he wouldn’t be too much into knife kink or going as far as drawing blood from you, but you know what he would be into? period sex.

personally, i don’t think he would eat you out during your cycle, but his fucked up mind would absolutely adore seeing his dick disappear into your folds and coming out all covered in red liquid.

of course this wouldn’t only be about him wanting to just make you feel good. he is an asshole, he has to make it about himself too. he would get off on knowing and seeing how flustered and a bit insecure you get all exposed in front of him during your menstrual cycle. something that is so personal and private. you have always isolated yourself from others to just have that alone time, and having no barriers to shield yourself from john would mess with your head, making you a nervous and oversensitive wreck, which is precisely what john enjoyed.

somnophilia.

as mentioned before, john just thrives on the thought of corrupting you, and that also involves your sleepy figure all defenseless and vulnerable to him. but again, as much of a degenerate he is, he would never do anything without your consent. so if you tell him to fuck off, he would respect it (with a scoff obviously cuz he is dramatic) and never pry further. but if you are also into that, be prepared to wake up to surprises quite frequently.

[k2ntoss]

just thinking about john being a mentor😓😓

like he would be SO grumpy but affectionate at the same time idk especially with a child apprentice nendnwndj im not normal about him

if you ever thought about me being normal when it comes to john mmmmm i'm not :3 i think about john getting to treat his apprentice like his own child, i feel like deep within him he has a desire to actually be some sort of paternal figure to someone and him being different from what his own father was, despite his ways and his work he knows he is not bad and he does not wishes to make his apprentice go through the same hell he went as a kid so he is some sort of grumpy but tender adoptive dad in the end.

let's be honest, john isn't really patient so whenever he has some case on his hands he's rushing his apprentice all around.

"c'mere, love, you gotta be quick" he muses while pacing around the living room, the small cramped space littered with old newspapers and books, john stands while thumping his foot against the floor, bag on his hand and his trenchcoat already placed over his form.

as soon as you come out he gives you a stern look, it's been at least an hour since he was ready to leave and you were still looking for your boots which had been left behind the old couch.

"you've got to be bloody kidding me, lass..." his voice comes gruff from how impatient he's starting to feel, if this case were only a matter of life or death... which it could end up being "your fucking boots are behind the couch," he points out, his gaze following your sheepish form as you walk past him to fetch your shoes.

"if only your stupid flat wasn't a damn mess..." there it came, the response of his little punk as he so oftenly called you whenever you started to act up. the mused response would have made him upset but by this time he knew better and he had to cover his mouth as a smirk tugged at his lips.

"you're a bloody brat... can we leave already, love?" john asks at the end, his hand brushing his hair back as he held back a bark of laughter, walking past you not without ruffling your hair affectionately.

[mlmxreader]

The Broken Soldier From a Broken Home | John Constantine x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Constantine "You're bleeding, for fuck's sake!" Medieval ❞

: ̗̀➛ Constantine finds himself in Medieval era Cymru, although he finds something there that he isn't quite willing to leave behind or to abandon so easily - at least, not without a proper fight, he isn't.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ graphic depictions of warfare, graphic depictions of death, death and injury, blood, swearing, smoking, mentions of alcohol, vomit

↳ word count: 1019

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You watched, unable to even move, your sword slowly slipping between your fingers, eyes wide and wild as your mouth fell open. Upon the battlefield, the bodies of slain men - your men - laid defeated and limp.

In horror, you could only continue to watch as one of your men was brought to his knees by an enemy soldier, and had a sword stuffed down his throat before being violently pulled forward; you wanted to scream, eyes going blurry and voice leaving you, as you watched his entrails being pulled either side as he was split into half.

You wanted to scream.

Blood spilling into the soil and pooling into a black puddle as it rose with the waters from yesterday’s rain; you did not even notice your sword hit the ground with a loud clatter.

You did not feel the wet ground at your knees and upon your hands; but you did feel the bile rising in your throat, only to be expelled through your lips with a harsh burn unlike any ale you had ever tasted before. It was like fire being coughed up from your lungs, and as you knelt there, powerless and defeated, you could only stay frozen. 

“Get up!” A thick accent snapped at you, followed by a harsh tug to your shoulder. “Come on, milwr! Up!”

Shaky and blurry, your gaze settled upon the brown eyes of John Constantine, who you knew as someone who did the same thing that Myrddin did; but that did not matter, as you flung yourself into his arms, holding on tightly as you finally screamed.

The sound loud enough to cut through the rustle of horse hooves and clanking metal.

Constantine did not dare to shove you away, he couldn’t. But he did know that you were not in a safe position for breaking, so he carefully guided you away from the battlefield - being sure to pick up your sword even though it burned his hands something fierce.

Myrddin had warned him that it was tied to your bloodline, and that he would be left with thick and blistering burns if he picked it up - but what else was he supposed to do?

After he had sat you against a tree, Constantine made quick work for discarding your armour, even if his hands did shake and he did worry that the lack of modern medicine would result in something far worse than he expected; but when he was about to open your shirt, he pulled away, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he stared at the palm of his hand.

“Go,” you coughed weakly, shaking your head. “Glywysing has fallen… we lost, cariad…”

Constantine shook his head, wiping your blood on his shirt before working your shirt aside so that he could properly see. “You’re bleeding, for fuck’s sake! What use are you to Arthur if you’re fucking bleeding?”

You could only cough in response, weak and defeated as you looked in the direction of the battlefield again. “Arthur should take my head… and let it be known that failure… failure to prevent them from invading…”

“No!” He snapped, thankful to see that the wound was not particularly deep. Yet his heart still raced and his hands still shook. “You think I’m gonna bloody let you die here?! After everything?!”

Gently, you laid your hand on his and shook your head. “You said you’re from the future, when we first met…”

“Yeah, and?”

“Tell me,” you croaked out, giving up the will to even talk. “Do we succeed?”

Constantine paused for a moment before sighing heavily and shaking his head. “No. They outlaw and ban your language. Flood your villages for water they don’t even want. They take over your lands… you’re not even considered a people on your own - only part of them, and your country isn’t recognised by anyone anymore…”

“So why must I survive?” You asked quietly. “It will all be for nothing anyway…”

He sat down beside you with a crash, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighting one up; he gave one to you and lit it for you as well. “Because I fucking care, milwr. I care about you, even though you are a pain in my ass at times, and I don’t wanna see you die.”

You scoffed, reaching for your sword and grasping the hilt. “You saw what they did… a sword through his fucking throat… they will never stop… they will do that to all of us, and the dragon will fall…”

Constantine shook his head, offering you his hand as he glanced at you for a moment. “Live for me, please.”

You glared at him for a moment, the pleading in his brown eyes seemingly much brighter than the blood and bits of brain and stomach in his dirty blond hair, and gave him your hand. “Fine, you have a deal… but it’s for you - no one else.”

He nodded slowly, pretending that he didn’t notice how you had completely given up; when he first met you, you were one of Arthur’s bravest soldiers.

Fighting to prevent the oncoming invasion, fierce and full of love for your countrymen - and now… now you did not even want to live for them, and he felt guilty for telling you that the future was bleak and broken. But he knew he did the right thing, as it wouldn’t have been right of him to lie to you that way. 

But seeing you give up on hope when you had once been so optimistic and full of… full of bravery. He hated it, although he could not blame you for it; a lifetime of war, constant your entire life, who could tell you that it was wrong to become hopeless, bleak, and broken?

Who could tell you that it was wrong to become tired and wish for little else than to die instead of see that future?

“Y’know,” he said just loud enough for you to hear. “I ain’t never bloody met anyone like you before, and I… I think I might stay. Study under Myrddin for a while. I think I might stay.”

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to Hayam and her family so they can escape the ongoing genocide in Palestine - even the smallest amount can have such a major impact and can help a lot. Please, consider donating.

[gay-dorito-dust]

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.