#dc imagines

John Constantine x reader

Word Count: 1300

Summary: You and Zed share a talk and a lesson

When you stepped into the millhouse, it was exactly the same as the last time you saw it, right down to that strange mirror over the fireplace. You knew John was out working on his latest gig, but you expected to run into at least someoneout and about in the place. Still, you weren’t upset at the chance to poke around.

It was a little concerning how many decanters were in the old liquor cabinet. The copious amounts of cigarette butts in the ashtray, however, weren’t too uncommon for the chain-smoking exorcist.

“Hello?” That was Chas’s voice coming from down the hall, growing closer as he threatened, “I know you’re here, so you’d best show yourself before I get nasty.

“I thought getting nasty was usually John’s gig,” you teased as he finally stepped into view.

Blankly, he stared at you for a moment before saying your name in an utterly confused tone.

“That’s still me, boyo,” you confirmed, allowing him to scoop you into a tight hug.

“What’re you doinghere?” he asked with a laugh while he stepped back from you. “You here for John?”

“In a manner of speaking,” you replied hesitantly, not wanting to get his hopes up about your sudden reappearance. “Signs keep pointing me back to you lot, so I figured I’d let you know I’m around since I doubt John’s mentioned it.”

“He’ll be happy you’re back,” he stated, practically confirming that John was being pretty tight-lipped about your involvement in this whole Rising Darkness affair.

“Chas …”

He muttered your name quietly before asking softly ,“Why did you leave him? One day, you two are crazy about each other, and the next you’re getting a divorce? I mean the guy clearly misses you. What could possibly–”

“You’re her,” a new voice interrupted him from the other side of the room. The new arrival, the seer Zed if you had to wager, scurried closer to get a better look at you. “You’re the woman I keep seeing.”

“So I’ve heard,” your voice was cold, a little unnecessarily so, but it was hard not to be frigid when you were actively glaring at Chas to keep the past to himself.

Zed’s eyes kept trailing up and down your body like she was looking for something specific. “Who the hell are you, anyway? Why do I keep seeing youof all people?”

You couldn’t help it, your icy façade broke apart as a laugh bubbled up from your chest at the bluntness of her questions.

“Ah, I was wondering where you’d gotten off to, luv,” John said, gesturing extravagantly as he breezed into the room. “Zed, I’d like you to meet my ex, the absolute nightmare that she is.” Even though his mouth and expression implied distaste for you, you could see the way his gaze lingered on the chain around your neck, on your lips for just a fraction of a second longer than was socially appropriate. “This cruel little lady is here to help you with your abilities, Zed.”

Looking at him, you raised an eyebrow as if to ask, “Oh am I?” but you didn’t argue.

Zed’s dark eyes lit up a little. “You’re like me?” she guessed.

“Not exactly.” When she deflated a little, you continued, “I’ve got a different set of skills, but I understand how yours works. I should be able to give you a few pointers.”

“Then we’ll leave you to it.” John’s hand came down hard on Chas’s shoulder. “Let’s go see about that taxi of yours, shall we?”

It was only the once they were gone that Zed stated, “I keep seeing you and John together in my visions.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But I can never tell if it’s the past or the future.”

“Knowing the difference is a skill you’ll have to develop. Once you reallystart paying attention, you’ll find that they feel different; something about them just resonates on a different level. As for me and Constantine, what you’re seeing is in the past,” you lied, casually mixing truth with fiction. As far as Zed–and the rest of the planet, honestly–was concerned, there was nothing between you and your ex-husband anymore.

Her eyes narrowed a little. “I’m sorry, being around John has totally killed my manners. We still haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Zed,” she stated, offering you her hand to shake.

Instead of humoring her, you crossed your arms as you offered your own name. “And you seem like a smart enough woman to realize how incredibly rude it is to try and read someone without their permission.”

She shrugged, only deigning to look mildly apologetic. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Everyone’s been suspiciously cagey with information about you.”

You stared at her for a moment, assessing the situation as a whole. There was every possibility your next move would backfire directly in your face, but the temptation was simply too much to resist. “Alright,” you announced, offering your hand.

Now it was Zed’s turn to look distrustful. “You justsaid–”

“And now I’m giving you permission,” you pointed out, “if you think you can handle it.”

She laughed. “Well, I’ve never been one to run away from a challenge,” was all she said before grasping your hand.

Immediately, she gasped at the onslaught of information, and thanks to your own gifts you could see exactly what was swarming her mind and even control it to a degree. 

The most overwhelming thing in the vision was the impossibly hot, scarlet red fire that tore through her mind. Hellfire, the very thing that thrived in your veins at every moment, the thing it’d taken you years to learn how to control once you first awakened that power. It was only throughthat punishing fire that a few hazy memories leaked through your control for Zed to see.

The day John proposed, a few times you’d seen his old band perform, things like that. The instant that Zed was able to make out the bare, sweat-covered skin of John’s chest, she reflexively jerked away from you.

This time, you raised your eyebrows in challenge. “See what you wanted?”

“What was that?” she gasped as she fought her spasming lungs to gulp air down.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re not asking about the mechanics of sex. Let’s just say that’s the reason you don’t go through people’s heads if you don’t know anything about them. Consider that your first lesson. You never know if your target is someone like me that can control what you see. They can make you see nonsense, or they might be able to trick you into seeing something that never happened.”

“Thefire?”

You smirked. “Maybe someday you’ll figure it out. But you managed to squeeze out a few memories from me at least, which is more than I expected. John’s handiwork?”

Her face darkened in a blush, no doubt recalling the last memory she saw of what you thought might have been the last night you and John were together. “He’s been the one helping me until now.:”

“Not terrible for a beginner,” you admitted. “Go get some rest, Zed; you look exhausted.”

She nodded. “Good idea. You gonna be sticking around?”

“Depends on if John and I are going to kill each other or not,” you lied again while on the inside, you knew that the pair of you were unlikely to part again anytime soon. For better or worse, your fates were tied together once more; you could feel that much in your very soul.

And based on the way the millhouse rearranged itself so that the door that should have led to the old library actually opened up into John’s messy bedroom, it knew that as well as you did.

John Constantine x reader

Word Count: 1146

Summary: Some more mirror hinting, and John runs into his old flame

It was when Gaz and Zed were left alone that Zed saw the woman that’d been haunting her visions for the first time outsideof one of those visions. Both her and Gary were in bad shape from their bizarre, shared withdrawal symptoms, so Zed found herself lounging on the couch in front of the fireplace. John wasn’t around to explain this particular weirdness when she first noticed that the mirror was showing something that wasn’t the room it resided in. If anything, it looked like it was displaying images from some other point in time.

She watched the scene curiously, head tilted in mute confusion as she watched the pair interact like they were on a mute TV instead of a mirror.

They looked happy, John and however the woman was. They were smiling and dancing in a lazy circle while holding each other close. In the firelight, a pair of rings shined on the woman’s left ring finger, one silver and one copper. Zed’s eyebrows furrowed. On the next pass, she clocked a matching silver ring on John’s finger.

“What?” she found herself whispering to no one.

“Not sure what happened to her,” Gary’s voice pulled her attention from the mirror.

“You know who she is?”

“Yeah, she was Johnny’s girl. They were together for ages, but then she up and left him all of the sudden.”

“Can’t really blame her if he was always this much of a flake,” Zed muttered.

Gary chuckled at that. “You don’t understand. For years they were practically inseparable. Then something changed.”

“And you don’t know what happened?”

“John won’t talk about it,” the heroin addict explained. “Just showed up one day without her and all but ordered us not to ask about her. Then Newcastle happened, and well …” He trailed off for a moment. “Well, I don’t blame her for staying away after that mess.”

~

When John stepped out of the shaman’s shop, a familiar voice called his attention to the wall next to the door he just exited. “So I hear you need a fancy knife,” you taunted the second his eyes landed on you.

Gods, she’s as stunning as ever, John found himself thinking immediately. “And a human host to boot. You know, the usual level of nonsense with demons.”

“Well, I can help you with one–”

John was cutting you off by pressing his lips to yours before he really knew what he was doing because his feet carried him across the distance between you in two strides and his hands were already twining themselves in your hair to make the kiss harder, more passionate.

And you didn’t fight him in the slightest. No, you were just glad he made the first move, because you knew that if he hadn’t, your usually-iron will would have given out only moments later. Your fingers knotted their way into his blond hair to try to pull him impossibly closer until the need for air made the two of you part. Even then, you didn’t move far away. Instead, you rested your forehead rested against his as your free hand moved to touch your now-swolen lips.

“Shite, I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, though he made no move to step away.

“Can’t say I’m complaining,” was your response as you pet his hair fondly. “Not like anyone’s around to call us on it.”

“I think Zed already has,” was hisresponse as he looked at the chain that had started worming its way out of your shirt.

“She your seer friend?”

“Clairsentient, and ‘friend’ is an awfully strong word in this line of work, luv.”

“That’s a yes, then. What’s going on with this hunger demon, then? Aside from what you just found out. Why here, why now? This isn’t their usual stomping ground.”

He sighed, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and stepped back a single step. “Gaz.”

“Like … Gaz, Gaz?” You were surprised, for sure. Last you heard of Gary Lester, he’d been lost in a drug haze somewhere overseas.

“It’s a long story. Remind me to fill you in on the Rising Darkness later.”

He sounded as tired as he looked. John Constantine looking rumpled and exhausted wasn’t anything new; he had sleeping issues long before you met him all those years ago.  But this was something else. Something awfulhad happened after the split, and it left quite a mark on the man you loved. If you were the betting type, you’d wager it had to do with whatever happened up in Newcastle that had made the magical community aflutter a while back.

“Do you need help on this one?” you offered. Idly, your hand reached out to straighten his tie. It was a futile gesture, but it was an action that gave you somewhere to look that wasn’t his bloodshot, brown eyes.

“Point me towards that knife, and I can handle the rest.”

You didn’t like his tone. There was something about it that resonated as just this side of unhinged. “What are you going to do?”

John inhaled sharply, clearly having an internal debate over whether or not he should tell you. “If you have anything to say to Gaz, do it now. He’s at the millhouse, provided he hasn’t given Zed the slip yet.”

You eyes slid closed as you nodded along with the realization of what his plan was. “Is it the only way?”

Now, he shrugged. “He wants retribution, he causedthis outbreak, and I need a host–preferably a willing one–in order to trap this demon. Unless you’re wanting to do it yourself, this is really our only option.”

“I’m not exactly the most human of hosts, John.”

“Exactly. Seventy-five percent isn’t exactly good enough, as it were.”

You frowned, not liking the jab at your genetics, but still you found yourself nodding again because he wasn’t wrong. “The knife you need’s at the museum.” The deep breath you took was really the only thing keeping your nerves from being completely out of control. “When the time comes, tell him I say ‘goodbye,’” was all you requested. 

“Alright,” he agreed calmly. “I’ll pass it along.”

“Right. Thanks.” You swallowed thickly. “You know you’ve got a celestial stalker, right?” Desperately, you hoped he wouldn’t comment on the way your voice broke while trying to change the subject.

He snorted, pulling out a cigarette. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Then we better part ways; they get snippier than usual when I’m around in my experience.”

“Will you, uh, be staying close, then?”

“Close enough to be there if you absolutely need me, but, John, you know we can’t–”

“I know, but believe you me, one of these days I’m going to stop caring about the fact that we shouldn’t.”

The scary part was that you suspected that that day would come sooner rather than later, and you were already looking forward to it.

John Constantine x reader

Word Count: 867

Summary: That mirror above the fireplace dredges up memories John would rather forget, no matter how good they might have been at the time.

Note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAnd here’s another 10k (10 chapters, roughly 1k each), this one about my man John Constantine because I started watching the show again and got bit by the plot bunny. Tell me your thoughts if you like it! I love reading some rambling comments from you guys xp

“Time’s out of joining in that mirror,” Constantine’s words echoed through Liv’s ears as she found herself gazing into it for the second time that day. Again, she was alone. John and Chas were out getting … something for dealing with her little problem, so she’d taken to roaming around the old millhouse by herself.

Just like last time, she started in alarm when the mirror didn’t reflect her (or even her father), and instead chose to show her something different that happened at some point in the past.

It was a familiar form on display, this time. Well, at least half of the couple shown in the silver surface was familiar anyway, because it was none other than John Constantine himself. Only this version of John was smiling without the sarcastic, biting edge to it that it usually had. He seemed, for lack of better word, happy. It seemed like he was talking to someone that was only partially in frame.

The other person was a woman, that much she could tell. Liv couldn’t see much more than that because her back was to the mirror. A flash of a bottle in the woman’s hands meant that she was pouring her and John drinks. Not someone like Liv who just needed his help, then.

John in the past laughed–it was clear just from the visual that it’d been a loud, boisterous one–and his hands came to grasp the woman’s leather jacket to pull her closer to him. Now, Liv would never claim to be good at lip-reading by any stretch of her imagination, but she felt confident enough in her skills that she was certainJohn told the woman something that included the words, “Love you.”

“What’s that blasted thing showing you n–” the current John, the real one that just walked into the room with her, was asking before cutting himself off the second he could see the mirror with his own eyes.

“Who is that?”

He snorted. “You shouldn’t pay too much attention to the past, luv.”

“You look happy,” she pointed out, trying a different tactic to get information.

His frown made his already thin lips thinner. “We have more important things to deal with. We have to trap Furcifer before he gets even more out of hand.”

“What h–”

“What happened?” He gave an almost manic sounding laugh. “No. I’m not talking about that. We’re leaving. Now.”

~

John was impressivelynot in the mood to deal with the gang that was so obviously following him, and it certainly didn’t help that his hands automatically started doing something inspired by you to scare them off. It did nothing but bring up memories of you, and that was never a good thing for him. The whole ‘dunking his hands in oil and lighting them on fire’ thing was a gag he’d developed with her as his muse, after all. A little magic to keep his hands from burning, and most mortals would go running at the sight of a madman lighting his own hands on fire.

It worked like a charm this time just like all the others.

Once alone again, his mind started turning over and over the events that led him here, most of all his time in Ravenscar.

~

The shrink just hadn’t been able, or willing for that matter, to let the concept of John’s ex-wife go once he accidentally let her name slip past his lips. That man nagged John about her every session after for the entire two months he’d been in Ravenscar afterwards, right up until he checked himself out and strolled out the door. Her and Astra had been that man’s favorite bones to pick when discussing John’s various traumas. Their existences haunted his ‘therapy’ like they haunted his nightmares. He just couldn’t escape.

One thing led to another in both instances involving those two, after all. The divorce, however consensual it might have been, left him lonely, and a lonely John Constantine was never a good thing. He wasn’t good at handling it. Just ask anyone he ever called ‘friend’. Hell, you could probably get a similar answer from those he called ‘enemy’. 

When he was lonely, he got dangerous. He got nasty and had a tendency to drink. When he was drunk, John either got sad, horny, or over-confident. Unfortunately for Astra, he knew he’d been the latter during the disaster with Nergal. Then he was left with a whole new reason to drink, plus the lovely addition of his soul being thoroughly being damned to Hell when he eventually (or not so eventually) kicked the metaphorical bucket.

~

He shook his head to clear away the memories. Dwelling would do him no good now (or ever, if he was being perfectly honest). Still, he didn’t like the fact that the mirror had shown that specific evening (their anniversary, not long before everything went sideways) to Liz. It could be nothing. It could bloody well be a coincidence–maybe the mirror felt like reminiscing because the date was coming up or something, John didn’t know, he made a point to avoid calendars at this point–or it could be a sign.

And John wasn’t sure he believed coincidences anymore.

kissing the other’s brow

Slade Wilson x reader

Word Count: 278

You woke for no real reason during one of those hours of the night where the entire world seemed to be on pause and knew immediately that this was going to be one of those times where you wouldn’t be nodding back off in quite a while. You blinked your eyes open slowly, thankful that the only real light in the room came from the red numbers on the clock on Slade’s side of the bed. 

A car honked outside, one of the few signs that there was still life outside the bedroom.

Your husband shifted against you. Curious, you turned over and found that he was lying on his back, one arm slung up under your pillow in a position that couldn’t have been comfortable. A smile crept onto your face. His mouth was just slightly open, slack in an uncontrolled sort of way that happened rarely. He was sleeping like a rock, that was for sure.

You wouldn’t be waking him, but you didn’t particularly want to stay here and stare into space for the next while until you felt groggy again. Carefully, you leaned over to brush a gentle kiss to his forehead before you crept out of bed. Odds were, he’d find you asleep on the couch in a few hours because you dozed off reading or something similar. It’d happened often enough that it wouldn’t surprise either of you if it happened again.

There was always work to be done, though, so you quickly set about the task of doing some prep research for the next job. 

Another car honked. 

The city may never sleep, but hopefully Slade would for a bit longer.

bandaging/stitching up an injury

Bruce Wayne x reader

Word Count: 309

As strange as it was, there was something peaceful about moments like this. You were numbed, so you couldn’t feel much other than the gentle tug of the needle going in and out of your skin accompanied by the warmth of his hands working to sew you back together. And since you were in no real danger of bleeding out, the whole experience was almost relaxing.

“You really should be more careful.” His voice was soothing without the gravel he forced into it while he was wearing the cowl. Here in the Batcave wearing sweats, there was no reason for false pretenses.

You hummed thoughtfully. Carefully, you turned your head to peek over your shoulder at him. “It was my back or your face, sweetheart.”

“Then let me get hit.”

You scoffed. “I’m gonna pretend that you aren’t telling me to elect to let you ruin that handsome face. I dunno if you noticed, but I’m just a bit fond of it.”

“You–”

“Bruce,” you cut him off, facing forward again. “This is nothing. A scratch. I’ll be fine. I’ll be good as new once you patch me up.”

You heard him sigh. “I want you to take it easy for a few days.”

“What? N–”

“Please,” he cut you off this time. You heard him shift then felt the press of his lips against the nape of your neck. “For me?”

You rolled your eyes, thankful that he couldn’t see the goofy smile that pulled at your mouth. “Alright. I guess Alfred could use a hand around the house for a few days.”

Neither of you commented on the fact that he would let you do no such thing. Likely, you’d spend the time sitting and chatting with him while he flitted around the manor doing this and that to keep it looking perfect as always.

“Thank you.”

high fiving

Jason Todd x reader

Word Count: 254

Slap!

“Ow!!” you screeched a mere breath after the sound cracked through the air. “Worth it,” you wheezed in a somewhat weaker voice a moment after that. You hoped the burning of that somewhat over-eager high-five would wear off sooner rather than later.

To Jason’s right, you saw Tim shaking his head in disappointment. “Aren’t you supposed to be the second oldest?” he asked his brother in a tone that perfectly matched the look on his face.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Replacement?”

“He can’t help that he has some boyish charm left in him,” you chimed in, still nursing your stinging hand in your ache-free one. “Not his fault you decided to grow up too fast.”

Tim just rolled his eyes.

“Do I want to know what’s going on in here?” Bruce asked from the doorway.

You didn’t even have to look at your husband to know that he was wearing an expression that mirrored yours: the expression of a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Sibling bonding?” you offered.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Mama and Baba thought to test Grayson’s reflexes,” Damian spoke up haughtily. “The results show that he appears to be getting rusty.”

“Rusty?!” Dick’s indignant shriek came from where he was currently stuck in a gap in the bannister. “How the f–”

“Enough, Dick.”

“Yeah, Dick, watch your language around my kid!”

“You too, Jason,” Bruce snapped. “Help your brother out of there and maybe I won’t tell Alfred about this.”

“Aw, man!”

“Karma!”

squishing the other’s cheek

Slade Wilson x reader

Word Count: 475

If someone were to tell Jason that one of the things he’d see by the end of the day was the sight of Slade Wilson getting his cheek pinched like the person doing the pinching was his great aunt, he’d have laughed himself hoarse. But there it was right in front of him, the sight that immediately sent him into a fit of alarmed half-coughs and caused him to trip through the landing he’d been in the middle of.

“Hood, are you alright?” Barbara’s worried voice came through the comms only a moment later. 

“Yeah, I’m good!” he struggled to get out. To his own ears, his voice sounded a bit strangled. “I’m, uh, gonna go offline for a bit. Got something personal to handle real quick.”

That was when B’s voice spoke up, “Hood, if there’s something–”

“Nah-ah,” Jason cut him off. “None of your business. I’ll be back in five,” he barked before promptly hitting the kill-switch for the radio on the side of his helmet.

By the time he made his way over to the rooftop where his sometimes-pseudo-parents-sometimes-work-partners were standing, Slade’s cheeks were back to being unmolested and were currently contorted in a slight scowl. “What do you want, kid?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just checking in with the family, wondering since when the pair of you started taking jobs in the city … getting future blackmail material against Deathstroke, you know. The usual.”

Already, you seemed to piece together what he was vaguing about and started snickering. “Saw that, did you?”

Slade’s eye narrowed as he caught on. “You best delete that video at your earliest convenience.”

“Oh I will …” Jason smirked. “After I make a copy and stash it somewhere in case I ever need it. Nothing like the sight of the Terminator being literally putty in his wife’s hands to motivate him.”

“Jason …”

“Oh, relax,” you said, rolling your eyes and slapping his chest with the back of your hand. “Like he’ll ever need it. And he’ll be giving me a copy, too.”

“Sure thing!” he chirped, much to Slade’s displeasure. “But if you want to avoid the rest of the Bat Brigade, you’re gonna wanna get the hell out of town as soon as possible. Riddler’s got shit setup all around town, and the whole bunch has been tapped to work on cleaning it up.”

Slade growled a little under his breath.

You simply nodded. “Alright. We’re done anyway.” You bent to collect the case for the sniper rifle you’d put away only minutes before Jason made his way over. Again, you reached up to pinch your husband’s cheek. “Come on, snookums! We’ve got places to be!”

Which promptly sent Jason into peals of laughter, especially after Slade batted your hand away from his face.

“Enough. Kid, you’re still expected at dinner in two weeks.”

“*weeze* Wouldn’t miss it!”

John Constantine x reader

Word Count: 521

Summary: Life decisions based on 5 word sentences are questionable at best

Bad ideas didn’t exclusively come in little, five-word statements in the middle of the night while a few steps past tipsy, but that was a guaranteed way to come up with them. “We should buy a bar,” “I want to steal that,” “I thought you were single,” … “We should get remarried.” You know, normal, little sentences. The last was the most relevant right after that mess with Ritchie, because that was all the tempting it took for you and John to teleport to Vegas and make it happen.

The pair of you were still giggling to yourselves in blind happiness when you got back home. And ‘getting back home’ meant stepping back through the portal of swirling darkness into the living room where Zed was apparently hanging out.

“What the hell?!” she shouted in alarm. “What is going on? Where did you come from? When did you leave?”

“Teleportation, sweetheart. Try to keep up,” he slurred with a vague wave of his hand. 

“Since when can you teleport?”

“He can’t,” you snickered. “I can because of my …” you waved broadly at your body, “bullshit. I can drag him through because he’s John fucking Constantine.”

His smirk was better classified as a leer when you glanced at him. “Well,” he drawled. “Not ‘fucking’ currently, anyway.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Zed focused both of your straying attention by speaking quickly. “I kept quiet that one night because you asked me to, but we’re wellpast that now. What is going onwith you two?!”

“We got married!” you announced happily. The way you moved your hand to display your rings’ return to their rightful place on your finger jostled John from where he was trying to kiss your neck. All you did was shush his complaining grumble. You were goingto enjoy announcing this while your buzz lasted, and you’d be damned if he distracted you from it. 

Zed looked confused. “Weren’t you already married?”

“My darling wifemeans to say that we gotremarried,” John corrected. “As in married again”

“For the second time!” you chirped.

“… Is that a good idea? Didn’t you get divorced for a reason?” Zed’s concern was obvious. “I mean, you wouldn’t do that just for nothing.”

You frowned. “And we’re back together for a reason. If you’re not going to be happy for us,” you leaned over the couch to grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the coffee table, “we’re going to our bedroom to start our honeymoon.”

“I like this plan!” John announced, planting a smack of a kiss on your cheek. “Let’s see if we can recreate the first one, shall we?”

“And I like thatplan. You think you can still do that thing with your hips?”

“That and more, sweetheart.”

Dimly, you were aware of Chas’s voice asking, “What’s going on?” as you and John strolled down the hall, his fingers already trying to pry open your pants.

“A honeymoon … apparently,” Zed’s still-stunned voice replied. 

“Huh.” A pause. Then, as you shoved John against the bedroom door to kiss him thoroughly before he could maneuver both of you inside, “About time.”

John Constantine x reader

Word Count: 1836

Summary: Ritchie’s in danger.

You were lounging in the living room, enjoying a drink with John when an unexpected chill raced down your spine. This chill was similar but oh-so-unwelcomely different than most others you’d felt in your life. Overall, it was the same … except for the sparks of electricity that danced painfully along your ribs as it passed.

“You alright, luv?”

There was likely no small amount of hostility in your gaze when you searched around the room for the source of your pain. “You making friends with angels behind my back?”

“Bloody hell …” It felt like every muscle in John’s body stiffened upon hearing that question, but his voice was still that Constantine-branded casual when he said, “Friend would be a mighty strong choice of word for it.”

“John, I’m disappointed,” a new masculine voice sounded as a dark-skinned angel appeared in the room with you.

“About us not being friends?” John scoffed. “You really shouldn’t be surprised.”

The angel rolled his eyes. “And here I’d heard that you’d come to your senses when you cut ties with this … filth.” The way he spat the word reminded you of the way one might discuss the finding of a rat in one’s dinner. “Yet you’re decided to start–what’s the phrase–slumming it … again.”

You could see John’s jaw flexing with his anger. “That’s none of your business,” you snapped before he could say anything that might get him killed.

“It is when the reasonhe got involved in stopping the Rising Darkness was to save his soul!”

The icy chill was back, but this one was born purely out of fear. “What?”

“If you wanted her out of it, maybe you shouldn’t have let literally everything point to the fact that we needed her,” came John’s sharp reply.

Now, it was the angel’s turn to be unpleasantly surprised. “What are you talking about?”

The laugh that left John’s mouth was a harsh, cruel-sounding thing. “Of course you don’t know. Zed, your precious seer–you remember her, right?–was having visions about the two of us. Apparently, we need her to fight your precious Rising Darkness.”

Angel boy’s jaw clenched. “Have you checked the scry map?” Apparently, he didn’t feel like discussing his shortcomings on the Seer Knowledge front. 

“No. In case you haven’t noticed, I was having a drink with this lovely lady.”

“Even God had a day off,” you pointed out, voice sickly-sweet as you trailed a finger down the arm John had looped around your shoulders.

“God rested because he’d finished creating the world. John’s job is just heating up.”

Immediately, the exorcist’s brow furrowed, but he let the angel keep talking.

“There’s an old friend you can still help, and it’s even in your own backyard.”

You felt your face twist in confusion. “Aren’t you lot usually more cryptic than that?”

He didn’t deign to so much as look at you; those golden eyes of his stayed locked on John.

“I’ve only got one friend in town … if you can call him that, but my lady’s right. You getting used to breaking Daddy’s rules?”

Saying nothing, the angel just vanished.

“… Well that went better than I expected,” John muttered.

You pulled away from him slightly. “So when were you planning on warning me about the feathery threat to my existence?” 

“Oh, don’t be like that, luv. I try not to think about the bastard as much as I can, to be honest. Besides,” he pulled you back to him, directing you to move onto his lap so that you were straddling it instead of the casual, reclined position from before, “you know I’d never let him hurt you. Right?”

You scoffed, trying to add levity to his suddenly self-conscious tone. “Since when do I need your help to defend myself?”

At that, he barked a laugh. “To, right you are.” The pair of you shared a brief, fiery kiss before he guided you to your feet. “Now, come on. Ritchie needs our help!”

“It’sRitchiethat needs us?” you found yourself asking while being dragged down the hall. “Oh, he’s gonna lovethis …” Not.

~

The taped lecture was painfully boring even from outside the lecture hall. Yawns forced their way out of your mouth every few seconds, it felt like. When the tape finally messed up and Ritchie ended the class, you (and probably every student inside) inwardly rejoiced. 

Waiting outside hadn’t been your idea in the slightest. No, you’d wanted to sit with John so you could at least mock whatever lecture Ritchie would put on and have something to keep yourself occupied that wasn’t just listening and twiddling your thumbs. But then John had to go and make the far-too-valid argument that you and Ritchie had never gotten along, so he would probably bolt the second he caught sight of you.

Hence, outside.

While listening to John’s pointless question to dramatically announce his present was amusing, when the time came, you filed out with the students. Crowds were truly brilliant for going unnoticed, after all, and John already had Ritchie’s attention firmly locked on him.

The plan was theoretically simple. He’d probe his old friend for as much information as he could manage on the way to Ritchie’s office. Where you’d already be inside waiting so you could catch him off guard. Then, fingers crossed, the three of you could figure out exactly what this mysterious danger was. 

You were already done snooping around the office (finding nothing, naturally) and were lounging on the couch when you heard Ritchie’s once-familiar voice saying, “We had a … a deal. I help you and–” He abruptly cut himself off when he saw you. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” His eyes started frantically darting between the pair of you.

John flopped down next to you, arm automatically falling behind your head.

“You swore. You promised. No supernatural stuff, no demons–”

“Hey!” you protested at the same time John announced, “Gary’s dead, Ritchie.”

Ritchie’s whole body froze, full dear-in-the-headlights. “D… dead?”

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like that, mate, but, uh, now I have it on good authority that something ill-natured is circling you like a pack of wolves, and I’m not just gonna sit there and wait for it to attack.”

As John spoke, Ritchie moved to sit behind his desk, face full of confusion and shock. “Why me?” he muttered. “Why her? Why did you bring her here if something bad was already after me?”

“Because dealing with me is a right side better than ending up in a shallow grave because of something worse.” Your eyes narrowed. “Or are you forgetting all the times I’ve saved your ass?”

John’s hand squeezed your shoulder.

“But that’s no answer to why me. I don’t do anything but work and go hom, all of which is sprinkled with a whole lotta sedatives!”

What about the data-mining?”

“I got sick of frying hard drives! I don’t do it anymore! I shut the program down.”

“All this doesn’t change the fact that something bad is coming, Ritchie,” you pointed out calmly.

“Looks to me like something bad is already here,” came his mocking reply. “Careful how you speak to my wife.”

“You divorced yearsago, John! And for good reason. She’s a demon! It ain’t natural, and you know it!”

“She’s part demon, Ritchie, and you’d do well to remember that.” John’s tone was sharp, almost like he was moments from calling hellfire to those talented fingertips of his. When you squeezed his thigh to ground him, he relaxed some. “Besides, my reasons for parting with her died that day in Newcastle.”

“I’m here to help, Ritchie,” you vowed seriously. The hostility needed to tone itself down and quickly.

“Just–” His phone ringing cut him off. Convenient.

Based on his face, the news on the other end was anything but good. Of course.

~

Telling that young girl about her friend dying was easily one of the most emotionally traumatizing things you’d born witness to. Fortunately, after that it was quite easy to convince her to come to the millhouse.

“Don’t worry,” John was saying. “All reflective surfaces here have protections on them.”

“Get some rest while we work this out, alright?” you suggested.

“I’m sorry about all this.”

You waved her off. “Bah! You’re much better to deal with than Ritchie even with the whole evil ghost thing.” You winked at her. “He kinda hates me, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Why …” she trailed off as she seemed to realize that the answer wasn’t any of her business.

“You just get some rest. I’ll wrangle the magicians.”

Youknewit was going too well. The other shoe was bound to drop, yet when it did you were still surprised and horrified in equal measure when she was sucked into that hellish dimension through her phoneof all things.

Immediately, John started pulling out the supplies he’d need to do the spell. It was a little hard to hear anything over the blood racing in your ears, but you knew him and Ritchie were arguing about going in. But then you got dragged into it.

“She’s got mind powers, right?” You jerked your head around to see that Ritchie was pointing at you. “Why can’t she do it?”

John’s jaw clenched as his eyes met yours. “Her mind is too volatile. It’s overwhelming even to trained people; if she goes in we might lose Lily.”

“He’s right. I’d probably burn her out along with Shaw if he tried to get hold of me. Finesse is what’s needed, and that’s something I can’t do.” You looked at Ritchie. “If things go wrong, I’ll come in and be the battering ram. You two could handle it since you’ve got practice and warning, but it has to be a last resort sort of thing.”

He looked like he wanted to complain more, but Ritchie just sighed. “Fine.”

~

It was torture, watching the pair of them just … sit there in the trance.

It was pure Hell when John’s hands started bleeding. Still you didn’t try to enter. Lily was still alive. You had to hold out hope.

Then Lily came out. You patted her shoulder comfortingly but said nothing.

And finally, John came out of it and you immediately dropped into his lap to kiss him silly in relief despite the blood that lingered on his hands without wounds. “Good to see you too, luv, but I need you ready to drag him out incase the stupid git decides to try and stay there.”

You glanced over at Ritchie’s body. “You got it.”

But in the end, it all turned out … fine. Except for the dead kids. You’d all have to live with that on your conscience, but the three of them were alive. You were just happy to have them safe.

And if you and John got deliciously, irresponsibly, and hopelesslydrunk after toasting Gary’s memory in the mirror … Well that was your own business.

And the business of that one little walk-in chapel in Vegas.