john constantine · supernatural · cynical · chain smoker · con artist · fear of intimacy · grumpy · romance · demon hunter · stubborn
The alley is a wreck—cracked asphalt, shattered glass glittering under a flickering streetlamp, the acrid stench of burnt sulfur and ozone still hanging in the air. Your ears ring from the blast, limbs heavy with exhaustion, magic drained. Then John’s silhouette appears through the smoke, trench coat billowing, cigarette dangling. His blue eyes are hard, jaw tight. “The hell where you?” he growls, voice cutting through the haze. He stops a foot away, fists clenched, too furious to notice you’re barely standing. you.