#Constantine 2005

[afacelesschampion]

Angels and Demons can't cross over onto our plane. So, instead we get what I call half-breeds. The influence peddlers. They can only whisper in our ears. But a single word can give you courage, or turn your favorite pleasure into your worst nightmare. Those with the demon's touch like those part angel, living alongside us. They call it the balance. I call it hypocritical bullshit.

CONSTANTINE (2005) dir. Francis Lawrence

[coeur-dacier]

Well I guess I did a rerun

CONSTANTINE francise lawrence, 2005

[greenmanalishi]

*watches John Wick franchise once*

[merlinpinkpant]

Keanu, how many Johns have you actually played?

[jurassic-cunt]

Constantine (2005) letterboxd reviews

[adam-scott]

THE TWILIGHT SAGA: ECLIPSE (2010) CONSTANTINE (2005)

[horrortvfilmsource]

CONSTANTINE (2005) dir. francise lawrence

[blackcoffeeblackeyes]

🖤 my (weirdly specific) John Constantine headcanons 🖤

✧ (hear me out) He's actually not as mean and cold-hearted as he makes himself out to be. It's just a wall he's built around himself to avoid diving into his uncertainty in expressing his emotions. It will take a long time for those walls to come down but once it does, he's suprisingly quite affectionate and romantic but only when it's just the two of you home alone of course. He will follow you around everywhere, he will bring you fresh roses, and he'll keep whatever room the both of you are in lit by various candles.

✧ (hear me out) He is an introvert who also has a dark and very twisted mind, so I think he'd need to be with someone who's similar in that way. He unwinds by watching horror movies and hiding away from the world in his apartment. The only way he'd let you have any control (reference to next paragraph) would be by fully letting you decorate the place however you wanted. As long as you made the place dark, gothic, and extremely intricate he was content.

✧ NSFW This man is a sadistic and an absolute freak. The only thing bigger than his ego is his sex-drive (and his dick), and if you were to bring up something you wanted to try with him, there's a suprisingly high chance he's into it. He fully gets off on being in total control both physically and psychologically, so of course he will use this to his advantage. He will make you beg until you're in literal tears, crying and pleading for him to touch you. Just for him to overstimulate you until you are again tears and begging him to stop, once he has started. (I could write a literal novel about this)

Disclaimer: These are my personal opinions, and I'm just having fun expressing those! Don't take any of this too seriously!

[keplerspacecraftofficial]

sam reid as lestat (iwtv, 2022-) and tilda swinton as gabriel (constantine, 2005) are the two worst nonbinary people you know. and theyre cousins

[hintons]

🎃 31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN CONSTANTINE (2005) Dir. Francis Lawrence

[afacelesschampion]

CONSTANTINE (2005) dir. Francis Lawrence

[evilvvithin]

CONSTANTINE francise lawrence, 2005

[casuallyobssessed]

Is it heaven up there? — John Constantine x Fem!Reader ❥ 1k words

A/N: Hiiii, here's my first Constantine fic :3c thank you to @opheliainlove42 for proof reading for me!! 🫶🏻

Warnings: P in V sex, Oral (m receiving)/Blow job, no use of y/n, smoke/cigarettes

Archive of Our Own Link

You told him you'd help with anything. You meant it. Even when it’s quiet. Even when it hurts. Even when he pretends it doesn’t.

The orangey glow from flickering lamps is your indication that it's over. When John comes back to himself, sweat beads trickle down his face as he catches his breath. These Hell sessions always take it out of him. You kneel before him, settling between his spread legs, ready and willing to help him with whatever he needs. Sometimes it's food, sometimes it's a cigarette, sometimes he needs nothing but reassurance that he's not alone. He'd never admit that last one to you, though. 

This time, it seems like he has a rather different, pressing need. You’re eye-level with the unmistakable bulge in his pants. You feel your cheeks getting hot and you look up at him. After all, you did promise him you'd be here to help with anything. 

He meets your eyes, then looks down to the bulge in his pants, and right back up at you. You place a hand on his thigh, testing how far he'd let you go. Normally, he'd push you away with a bitter joke, but tonight... something gave.

His breathing slows and he gives you a smirk. Leaning back, he makes a gesture with his hand as if to say “go right ahead.” 

You walk your fingers up his thigh, stopping at his belt buckle. With ease, you undo it, then the button, then the zipper, pulling his pants down just far enough to reach him. You press your palm against the heat of him through his boxers, and as you work to free him, he leans to the side, grabs his cigarette pack from the table, and lights one with a flick of his lighter. Just another one of his filthy habits. 

You ease his cock free from the confines of his boxers, the fabric dragging just slightly against the sensitive skin. You don’t rush. You take him in your hand first, stroking him once, then twice, before leaning in and wrapping your lips around the head.

He groans low, smoke curling around his face as your mouth works him deeper, your tongue tracing along the underside of his shaft. His fingers tangle into your hair, not to control, but to anchor himself.

Then, just when your pace begins to find rhythm, John pulls you off his shaft, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his swollen head. He wipes your mouth with the back of his hand, smearing your spit and his pre-cum across your cheek.

You rise to your feet, stepping in closer as your breath grows heavy. With slow movements, you slide your panties down your thighs and hike your dress up, gathering the fabric around your waist before straddling his lap.

“Let me take care of you, John,” You whisper. 

You carefully notch the head of his cock against your dripping entrance and glance up at him for permission to really do this. He nods and grips your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto him, digging his fingers into your skin hard enough to leave bruises as you take all of his cock in one smooth motion.

“Fuck…” John breathes out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. 

You sigh and still for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of him filling you up perfectly. John looks at you through lidded eyes and groans when you withdraw yourself until just the tip of his cock remains inside of you. You place a kiss on the side of his neck and snap your hips down, burying him deep inside of you. He lets out a growl and you can feel the vibration through his throat against your lips. 

You ride him slow, savoring the stretch of his cock and how he fits like he was made for you. His hands roughly grip your hips, almost too tightly, as if he's using you to remind himself that this is real.

John doesn't say much. He just has a constant low hum in his throat, with the occasional curse mumbled through his gritted teeth. Smoke hisses past the cigarette somehow still hanging from his lips.

He watches you closely as you work your hips up and down. Concentration is heavy on his face, brows drawn together, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel around him, just in case this is the last time he gets to experience this feeling with someone else. With John, there’s always that chance.

Your fingers curl into his shoulders, and you pick up the pace. His hands slide up your sides, palms brushing your ribs, then drifting down to grip your ass and guide you harder, deeper. He groans, louder this time. It's not performative, but out of desperation. 

“Fuck,” He mutters, “Don't stop.”

You wouldn't dare. 

-

He finishes inside of you with a quiet grunt, burying his face against your chest as you tremble around him. His arms tighten around you, and maybe he forgot that he wasn’t supposed to care like this. This was supposed to be nothing more than body heat and impulse. 

When it's over, he doesn't speak. He reaches for another cigarette and leans back. The ember glows as he takes a deep drag. Above your head, the smoke he exhales hangs in a cloud, kind of like a promise of something unspoken, or maybe a threat. The air is thick with sweat and sex. John looks like he's about to choke. 

You gently touch his arm, “John…”

He flicks ash into the tray. 

“Don’t,” he says, not harshly, just tired, “Whatever you’re gonna say. Just don’t.”

You sit there in silence, but he doesn’t push you away.

After a minute, he sighs and looks up at the ceiling like it might offer him something he needs. Something like redemption or absolution. Avoiding eye contact with you, he stubs the cigarette out.

“You should go,” He says.

But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t stop you when you do.

[cinemistery]

Constantine (2005)

[1rh2nxoz]

Constantine (2005)

[4o4notf0und]

KEANU REEVES as John Constantine Constantine (2005) dir. Francis Lawrence