Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I wanted a little job. I needed a job for many reasons: first of all because I needed the money, second I was getting really bored attending lectures, third I wanted to leave my shitty apartment, which I was sharing with other four people. They were nice, but I wasn’t a fan of bland dishes and sleeping without sheets under your ass.

I was at the local library, one of those libraries that smell of ink and a little mold, too dark and too normal-looking to be assaulted by fake hippies and pick-mes, and too far from the university for students. I loved that library, really. That place made me feel at home even if years had already passed since I saw my foggy part of Italy. After months of sneaking in and annoying the young lady, the only one I’d ever seen working there actually, we became at the very least acquaintances. I would describe her as the long lost daughter of the monster of Frankestein, she had these big yellowish eyes and long hair with white streaks. I never attempted to ask her if she dyed her hair, I supposed so but everytime a boy asked her with a smug face she just replied that she was born like that and that the carpet matched the drapes, so they ran away spooked. I found her funny, interesting and gorgeus in her inhuman appearence.

As every monday, we started to gossip a little while she was entering my new books.
— Occult stuff again today, huh?
That was true, I always liked a little supernatural, a spark of occult and spooky.
—You know me, don’t you Zeddie?
— Don’t call me that. Changing topic, how is your job hunting going?
—Like a train on the tracks, but there’s me bound on them and I’m waiting for sweet death to end my suffering, so good.

I was pratically begging anybody to give me a job at that point, I was not asking for a high-paying one but every employer offered me a slave-like contract. I was getting really low on the mood and books were my little treat for the week. Zed looked at me like a stray puppy found on the road and gave me a business card.
— He is looking for an assistant, you know Latin, right?
— I did Latin at school back in Italy, why?
— Trust me, it will come in handy. Go to this address past lunch time, before you would not find anybody consciuos. Do not let him scare you, no puppy eyes and DO NOT FUCK HIM.
— Oh wow, many informations all at ones. Why would you think I would fuck him? Have you ever heard me saying I like managers or any type of authorities, I spit on coppers when I pass them on the street.
— I know your type and he is real good with words, I also know really well the books you read when you are at that time of the month, little monster lover.
— Allright, allright! You don’t have to attack me like that. I prefer to be called a “terato lover”, thank you.

After that I went home and started looking online to understand where the fuck was this address and how to reach it. After getting lost a couple of times I found myself before an apartment door in an old building, but somehow it didn’t seem dirty, the apartmens were on a betting shop in a secluded area of the neighborhood.
I knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again.

A distinguished man opened the door. Sharp jawline, black slicked back hair and a welcoming smile. Yeah, I would work for him, but I wouldn’t actually get down on him, maybe Zed didn’t know me that well after all.

— Can I help you, young lady?
— Yes, I’m sorry to come by uninvited, a friend told me that mr. Constantine was looking for an assistant…
I handed him the business card, my customer service smile plastered on skillfully after years working with the public. Inside I felt something strange though, like something wasn’t right, like there was a little fog and under that elegant mask of his there was something crawling, scratching even.

— Wait a moment, dear. I’ll call him for you.

He closed the door for a moment, I head a lot of rustling and blasphemies, I do say a lot of them too so I don’t really care much. Another man opened the door and at the same time the serious-looking one exited the room, flashing me a smile and going without saying goodbye. A blond man that seemed like a group of scousers beat him up (was he too writing a doctorate?) lighted a sigarette and made me understand to enter and have a sit.
—Who’s your friend?
— Her name is Zed, she works at the library…
—Ah yes, I know her, stunning eyes. Why are you here, luv?
So there are really people in London who say “love” to girls just because they are older, huh. That is a game I do not want to play, let’s try something else.
— You must be mr. Constantine
— Call me John.
—Allright, John. I’m y/n, Zed told me you are looking for an assistant and I’m looking for a job that won’t bore me to death.
—You know what I do for a living, luv?
I was pretty out of the world, but I didn’t live under a rock so I searched him on Google before coming here.
—From what I understand you are a researcher of the dark arts and the occult.
—More or less. You know Latin?
— Yes, I did it at school.
— Good enough for me, let’s talk about the contract: you will live here in my spare bedroom, you will be payed a percentage when jobs will come in and food is on me.
I didn’t think twice and not enough about it: — I accept, sir.
—No “sir” shit with me, just John.
— You can call me y/n then.

Chapter Text

After the adrenaline of the interview flowed out of me, I started breathing calmly and observing the apartment with the man who was now searching for paper and pen. The room where we sat was dark and dusty. It seemed like a little open space between the kitchen and the living room, the only table was the one in front of me. The walls were pretty empty and of a beige colour, maybe he was on a rent or didn’t care to repaint the walls once he paid off the apartment. Piles of books spotted the floor, as well as food containers. Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted so quickly.

The man, John, in front of me was writing fast and hard on the sheet of paper, we were in silence but at least we didn’t feel that embarassed tipe of silence. After getting used to the room and its smell (smoke, wax and alcohol), I started studying him. Blond, maybe 35, lean, seemed like he needed a shower and some rest, percieng light-blue eyes, white shirt and a trench by the door. The only ones that wear those types of trenches are flashers and fucked up/depressed detective, I hoped for the latter if I had a say in all of this.

After a little while he finished writing and showed me my room.
—So this is the room, unfortunately we will have to share the bathroom.
It was small and clean, the mattres seemed brand new, something I didn’t see since I passed from the children’s bed to the teenager size. A bedside table with a little lamp, a bench by the door and a wardrobe big enough for all my clothes, covers and maybe the books I do not show to anyone, a window, no mirror. It was a catch!
—This is really nice, is there something I need to know about our communal living? Rules maybe?
—Not really, you cook?
—Yes, I like to think of myself as a good cook, if you are used to eating the british way, then I am a great cook by your standards.
—Ok, then. Meals are on you as the shopping is, I will give you the money for it every week.
—Cool with me, John.

I kept to myself that I had some necessities when it came to food and that I was rather expensive. We moved back to the table and before giving me the document he wrote he asked me: —Do you like to study, luv?
I was a little taken aback, but I answered honestly:
— I do love to study. Why?
—Alright, here you go your contract, you can read it calmly and sign it when you are ready.

My question still unanswered, but I started reading the paper. His handwriting seemed classical, well used though. The contract was fine, I was going to sign it.
—Do I have to sign with my blood or…?
—I’m not a demon and you are not giving me your soul or life, just your time. A pen will be fine.

After the interview I started moving in, I do not have a car here in England, I have a driving license for manual gear driving though. From what I did understand John has a license but drives like a madman or a drunk one, so he asked his friend Chad to help me out. Chad seemed like a good friend and a honest person, he took me back and forth from my apartment just twice with his taxi, I didn’t have a lot actually. After we finished putting everything away he helped me do the shopping and all, while John passed the rest of the afternoon searching a taking books from the different piles.

After dinner, he sat down on the couch with the books.
—Come here, luv.
I didn’t like that nickname, but I rather fancied his accent and tone of voice. Fuck, Zed actually knows me really well. Give a librarian the books you read while you ovulate and she will tell you who you are. I sat beside him, at a professional distance.

—These are the books I need you to study to ensure you do not harm youself or make pacts with demons, alright?
—They are a lot, aren’t they? 1,2,3,5... all fourteen?
—If you don’t want to die, yes.
—How much time do I have? And also, from start to finish or there are chapters I can skip?
—You are an university student, aren’t you? Already asking me for the deadline and shortcuts. Yes, from start to finish and there is no deadline, just do not take all month.
—A month??? John, are you aware I have lectures to attend on top of this job?
—These books are for your own safety, I need you to understand that.

In his eyes there was a note of pain, maybe guilt. I’m not his first assistant, am I?
—Alright, I will need al lot of paper, pen and tea, thank you.
—Already have, here you go, sweetheart. If you need help or explaining I’m here.

And like that my study sessions started, the first one was actually something on the line of “occult arts for dummies”, and also my domestic life with John started. I have always been more of night howl when it came to study, so it became natural for me to follow John’s schedule. When I was on the books he would always remain at home so that he could answer and explain to me anything if needed, during that time he also stopped taking home or inviting people, demon or monsters. Thankfully my passion for mythology and legends came in handy. Only at the fourth book we really started getting serious, explaining hell, how it works and its structure, until then the chapters and books were about how to create a fully working salt circle, how the energy flows in our bodies and in the world in general, it was really interesting, but the fact of knowing that everything I studied could save my life made me a little nervous.

—John?
—Yes?
—Are you really telling me that Dante’s structure of hell is true?
He didn’t answer, just hummed and kept smoking. It was getting real late and we were both tired.
—We study it at school. So Dante, the one that everytime that he sees a demon faints, is also the only written evidence of hell?
—I think you’re getting the hang of it, yes. I also think you should go to bed and maybe relax.

It was already a week since I started working and was at the fourth book, it was also a week that, from what I saw, John didn’t get in anyone's pants. He was getting tense and sigarettes weren’t enough. He also tried to keep himself under control, not offending me our snap at me but I knew he needed some, pronto. But I wasn’t the one who was going to help him in that terms, he was growing on me, sure. His accent was rather intoxicating, even more if you think about myself who liked to listen to boyfriend asmr before going to sleep, and when he was relaxed with his shirt sleeves rolled up ad legs spread wide on the sofa i thought of Zed and how much she knows me. But he was my employer and I didn’t trust him enought, not yet at least.

I welcomed his suggestion and went to bed, then I heard the apartment door close, finally some good quality time, for him and for me. About me I was sure, I wanted to test the new mattress and a book about a werewolf was waiting for me on my bed.

Chapter Text

The werewolf was getting good, I was getting in the right mood. My last date went wrong in every way possible and since I moved in I didn’t get a chance neither to find another date with a sexy monster, neither to use my fingers like nature intended. The last one was a vampire and told me he wanted to date me because he wanted to find out if my blood was more sugary or fatty because I’m a chubby gal, not the best way to start a conversation I might add. I actually had a good boyfriend until six months ago when I found him snorting cocaine from a girls navel, never again with a Lamia. Then there was the football jock, I really liked him, he died because of too many hits in the head, poor Jeremy, but that was a long time ago. I was rethinking about my love fails, I like to call them that way, like a reality show. A shitty one, one of those you start watching at 2 in the morning after a lot of rum & colas. Then I heard knocking.

Did John go out without the keys? Was he too drunk to open the door?
Still in my pjs, they were bugs bunny themed, not the best but I thought that John either way will have to get used to these types of clothing choices if we will continue our collaboration.

I reached for the door and opened it. There was no John at the door. Fuck!
—Arthur?

Bloody hell, again this moron.
—Hi sweet tits, finally found you! Your roommates gave me your new address. You’re finally ready to give me a little taste so I can satiate my lust for knowledge, I bet it is sweeter than wine.
That fucking vampire again, I will have to tell my ex-roommates to fuck off and not tell to anyone any of my business, goddamn it. I got away from the door and started searching for the salt with my eyes, there was a bottle near the door, no garlic or wooden sticks. Salt will have to do.
—May I come in, please?
—NO, you may NOT.

I knew I didn’t have much time, before starting to read John’s manuals I didn’t really realize the many kinds of dangers I put myself under with my little dates with monsters and spirits. He could have started brainwashing me or worse. I also knew that not giving my consent to come in was useful only to a certain point. I checked the apartment, The living room windows were closed, John’s room as well. Mine was not, that could be a problem. I took the salt in my hand, maybe if it was like that one I had back home that went so solid it was a stone of salt it could be more usefull.

—What do you want to do with that salt? I’m not a demon it doesn’t work on me.
Come on snake, let’s rattle.
I threw it in his eyes. I want to see now if it doesn’t stop you.
It actually didn’t, but he got much angrier and that alone was satisfying on its own. He started getting touchy, he wanted to grab me and get me out of the house,the same house full of protective sygils and salt. Now it was getting scary, I didn’t want to become food. I knew the fucker couldn’t come in, so I dashed for my room, closed the door and the window and called my dear employer and also owner of the house. All the while Arthur was still screaming and trying to get me to say Yes or No to any of his tricky questions to enter and eat me up. He picked up at the second ring.

—Hi John, sorry to disturb you. I could be in danger and in need of assistance.
—I left you alone for two hours, what happened?
It was noisy, he was probably in a bar but still more or less sober. He had to have a liver the size of a brick at that point.
— It’s not my fault, I promise you.
—Talk!
Yeah, he was mad now.
—I have a vampire who is trying to get in because he wants to know if my blood tastes sweet or fat, can you come home, please?
—Done.

Anxiety arose at that, Done? We were done? I was done? Was I getting fired? Done, meaning he would arrive soon? I cannot lose this job. I will never find another room during this time of the year for rent, fuck.
One second later he was in my room thanks to a... circle of fire? A blaze of fire? I didn’t know and it wasn’t the time to ask.

—Where is he?
He seemed calm, a little pissed but in control of himself and not trying to insult me.
—By the front door.

John didn’t wait another second, he went in the living room like a soldier, squared sholders - big lean sholders, gods above spare me right now- I was right behind him, I hoped not to look like a little girl scared under her mother’s skirt, THAT would be embarassing. Arthur was still out the door, pissed would be reductive to describe him. Red bloodshot eyes, white skin and profusely sweating, he reminded me of drug-addicts when the are in abstinence. Just for a moment though, when I looked at him again all these simptoms were gone and the well mannered mask was on again.
— Oh, hello there, you must be the father. I came to take your sweet daughter out for a date, must be new for you, I bet nobody ever asks her out because of her … appearence.
That little piece of dry ass shit, I was going to rip him in half after that. John put out an arm to block me from doing something stupid like going out of the room to beat that bloodsucker to a pulp, I have a lot of dates, usually with crappy guys, but that doesn’t matter right now.

John, took a sigarette and lighted it before speaking.
— Alright, you little cunt, you must not know me to talk to my assistant like that, meaning you are a lesser creature with as much magic power as dog farts. I’m here just because she didn’t reach the right chapter of the books a I gave her.
Arthur seemed puzzled while my employer was talking to him. Then he uderstood: the trench coat, the sigarette, blond with a tie... he was standing before the great John Constantine and he put an end to his nice evening. The mask started crumbling down, now he was scared, eyes empty looking at me like I was a trap.

John snapped his fingers at him:
—Oi, Oi, listen to me you wanker. This is what you are going to do. You are apologizing to my pretty assistant and then you are going to fuck off right where you came from.
I felt relieved having John handle the situation. Arthur, scared, muttered a “sorry” and left. The adrenaline left my body after a few minutes. John seemed amused by the whole scene, but either way helped me to clean the circle of fire in my room and then made me some tea for the nerves.

We were at the kitchen table, I was sipping from my mug, just arrived from my apartment a big snoopy mug my uncle gave to me when I was little, while he was drinking his liquor.
— I’m sorry I had to call you to deal with my love fails.
—So this is one of your exes?
—That’s right, at first he was kind then he started with the whole fatty or sugary blood thing, hell what a stupid girl.
—Nah, you are not stupid, just inexperienced.
—About that...when you said “Done” at the phone, you meant we are done? Like I’m fired?
—What? No! I meant “done” like “I’m on my way”.
—Thank the gods! I was so scared I just lost another job.
John laughed, a real one, not the type you do when you read a funny meme, a real to the heart laugh. It was beautiful and that calmed the situation. I even joined him because it was contagious, how could I even think he would blame me for something I wasn’t in control of? I could really trust this man, gods. I wasn’t used to this.
—Bloody hell, you are an anxious little creature, aren’t you.
—Yes, I am. I’m sorry. Sometimes my professor tell me I look like a trembling chiwawa when I have an exam.
— A chiwawa? Those rats? No,no, more like a scaredy kitten, there’s a bite in you. No need to apologize, luv. Let’s get you to bed, alright?

I put myself back to bed, then he laid over the covers beside me, no sigarette in his mouth because I told him I preferred no smoke in my room. He talked to me quietly, a low voice full of meaning. He looked right into my eyes to search for something, maybe distress. I actually was getting nervous because I’m not used to having so much attention on me.
—Are you okay, y/n?
—Yes, thank you. Not the first time that a dude hits on me and when he gets a no becomes aggressive and offensive.
—I’m sorry. The world is a shit-hole. I’m here whenever you need me.
I didn’t answer, my face already said it all. I was gratefull to him, he gave me a room just for me and he believed me when I said it wasn’t my fault.
—Do I look like a father to you? I’m not that old, am I?
—Nah, you look good for your age.
—Oi! I’m not that old.

I was getting sleepy, so I told John he could go on with his evening. He went to his room, I didn’t hear the door close, maybe he was getting sleepy too, or maybe he didn’t want to leave you if you had trouble during the night. Come on, that couldn’t be, right? That though was a dangerous one, better keep it close in my mind.