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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 2

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2075

Additional note: In Norway, you are of age at 18.

Enjoy 🙂

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"... don't start eating until your brother joins us."

As he pushes himself down the large hallway leading to the kitchen, Ivar can hear Lagertha's assertive voice. He knows exactly who she's talking to and his suspicions are confirmed as soon as he enters the room, as a very displeased and apparently famished Hvitserk looks at him with irritation before letting out a muffled, "it's 'bout time."

"Sorry, I must have dozed off." Shrugging, Ivar wheels up to the kitchen table, the smell of pizza tickling his nostrils. He must be hungrier than he thought.

"You look like Hel." Sigurd sneers in greeting.

Ivar, without bothering to look up, just tilts his head and hisses through clenched teeth, "coming from you, dear brother, I take that as a compliment."

He can feel Lagertha's gaze upon him and when he turns his head toward her, she is staring at him, the worry obvious in her eyes.

"I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that but Sigurd isn't wrong." She crosses the room and leans over, her brow furrowed. "You look exhausted, sweetie, what's going on?"

Ivar almost wants to laugh. He looks exhausted? No kidding? Yeah, guess what? That's what two sleepless nights in a row usually do to you. At least that's what they did to him. What you did to him, haunting his nights and even haunting his dreams, waking him up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, the few times he managed to fall asleep. At least, he'd made up his mind early this morning. Hopefully, now that the decision has been made, he'll sleep better. Saturday night, he'll see you again. His heart is racing at the thought and he inhales deeply, trying to calm down.

Unsurprisingly persistent, Lagertha asks again as she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "Ivar, are you all right?"

He wishes he could just ignore his stepmom but knows she won't let it rest. Unwilling to admit that he owes his restless nights to a girl - to you - he decides to keep his answer vague. "So-so," he mumbles, slightly rocking his right hand.

"You're in pain? Do you need more meds? I could run to the drugstore really quick."

For once, he doesn't resent Ubbe for his well-meant yet patronizing kindness, nor for the pitying look he gives him. Actually, he silently thanks him for the good diversion. As long as his brothers and Lagertha believe that it's his legs that bother him, keeping him awake, his secret - you - will be safe.

Faking a small, sheepish smile, Ivar shakes his head. "Thanks bro, but that's okay, I have everything I need. Guess I should just double-up the tramadol tonight." He winces for good measure, knowing fully well he won't even need a single dose. The pain in his legs today is barely at four, nothing he can't handle.

Once the meal is almost over – which in plain English means that everyone but Hvitserk has finished eating, but thanks to Lagertha principle 'no one leaves the table until everyone has finished, boys', they're all stuck here – Ivar decides it's time to break the news.

"I'm gonna go to the party."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the kitchen falls quiet. Even Hvitserk stops chewing, putting his last slice of pizza back on his plate.

Not knowing what to do with the silence, and feeling a little awkward, Ivar explains further, a hand on his neck, "the midsummer party, I mean. Harald's party."

"We heard you just fine, sweetie." Lagertha is the first to pull herself together, even though the disbelief is clear in her voice. As Ivar looks up, his brothers are staring at him, slack-jawed, bewildered, probably wondering what's got into their baby brother.

"Let me get this straight." With widened eyes, Ubbe starts running both hands through his hair, "you are considering attending Harald's party, right? That's... That's what you said?"

"Yep." Ivar shrugs as if it was no big deal. Who is he kidding? Of course, it is! Attending the party is a fucking huge deal for him. There's no way in Hel he'll admit it, though. Not in front of his brothers. No fucking way!

"I'm not sure I understand..." Ubbe sounds cautious and it infuriates Ivar to no end.

"What part of 'I'm gonna go to the party' don't you get, brother? Huh? Too many big words for you?" He wants to keep going but when Lagertha clears her throat and gives him a stern look, he faintly raises an apologetic hand while muttering under his breath, "okay, okay, I'll stop."

Heaving a sigh, he shrugs once more. "Seriously, you don't all have to look so surprised. I just want to go to Harald's party. It's really not that big of a deal."

"But you never wanted to, sweetie. Why now?" Lagertha's eyes are wide open and there's a frown on her forehead as she crosses her arms.

"Why not?" Ivar can't help but raise his voice. "I'm sixteen, Lagertha! Thought I was entitled to a change of heart. Was I wrong?" Pointing a finger successively at each of his brothers, his free hand grabs his push rim, his knuckles white. "The three of you attend every year, why shouldn't I?" Looking directly at Lagetha once again, he asks in a clipped voice, "You're not going to tell me I can't go, are you?"

"Of course not, sweet–" She begins but Ubbe cuts her off.

"Listen Ivar, no one is saying you shouldn't go, not yet at least. As a matter of fact, no one would be more pleased than I if you were willing to go out more. Playing pool, going to the movies, or just having drinks, you know you're always welcome to come along with us. But..." Ubbe groans, rubbing his hands over his face and Ivar stiffens, grinding his teeth, "Harald's party, really? It's not going to work. You know it takes place on the beach, it's not exactly wheelchair-friendly."

Reluctantly taking his eyes off his slice of pizza, Hvitserk jumps in. "Ivar is our brother, if he wants to go, we find a way. That's it - I'll carry him."

Positively surprised, a small smile playing on his lips, Ivar thanks his brother with a nod, glad – and relieved too, because two are always better than one, right? – that Hvitserk, as so often, backs him up. Of all his brothers, he's the only one who sees him first as a sixteen-year-old and not as a cripple.

Ubbe is having none of it though. "Hvitserk, just stay out of this, okay?" He's practically shouting, chin up and chest out. "You don't have a say! I'm the oldest, not you! I don't think it's a good idea for Ivar to attend Harald's party, period."

Hvitserk furrows his brow and for a short moment, Ivar thinks his brother is going to fight back but eventually he lowers his gaze, defeated, before shoving the whole slice of pizza into his mouth. Ivar knows all too well that his brother, who's not the most tenacious of them, hates confrontation, especially with Ubbe.

Unlike him, Ivar is always ready to pick up a fight, even when it's not worth it, even when he is wrong. Today, though, it's definitely worth it.

His nostrils flaring, he smashes his fist down on the table, his face crumpled with anger. "Who do you think you are, Ubbe? You may be the oldest, but you're not my father, okay? So please, just do me a favor, brother, and read my lips." His voice dripping with sarcasm, his bottom lips quivering, Ivar is absolutely livid, "You. Don't. Have. A. Say. Period."

Ubbe is about to retort, his hands clenched into fists but Lagertha raises a hand, shutting him up. "Boys, boys, boys!" Glancing at Ubbe and then at Ivar, she shakes her head, not exactly thrilled with their outburst. "Now, calm down, both of you. Ubbe, Ivar is right. You may be his big brother, you may be an adult, but you're not his father. I know you mean well but as Ivar's guardian, I have the final say." Turning her head toward Ivar, she cracks him a reassuring smile. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Just the two of us."

***

Slamming the door shut, Ivar wheels up right next to his bed and, angling his chair just right, transfers over onto his bed before punching the wall, a roar escaping his lips. Big tears of frustration and anger run down his cheeks as Sigurd's words linger in his mind.

He had been surprised when his less-favorite brother had stayed out of the conversation.

He should have known better.

No sooner had Lagertha, Ubbe and Hvitserk left – she to make a phone call, they to join Margrethe – leaving them to tidy up the kitchen, than Sigurd had lashed out at him with harsh words and eyes full of spite.

"You messed up in the head, huh? It's a fucking beach, Ivar, you do realize your front wheels will get stuck in sand, right? Now tell me, little brother, do you really think we are going to carry your crippled ass around all night? Let me tell you, it's not going to happen! There will be so many better ways for us to spend the night. Girls, you know? Lots of them. Am I going to let you embarrass me and ruin my night? No! Not in a million years. And anyway, why do you even want to go? Get real, Ivar, you don't belong there, you just don't. You're a fucking cripple, a freak, an abnormality. No one wants you there. No one wants to see you. The sooner you accept it the better."

He knows Sigurd was intentionally trying to hurt him. And fuck, he did succeed. Ivar had felt so humiliated that it had brought bile to his throat.

At some point, while Sigurd was spitting his venom, Ivar had grabbed the large knife lying on the table and it took all his self-control not to stab his brother. No doubt his shrink would be proud of him.

Now though in his room, and even if he is boiling with anger, the nagging thought that Sigurd had a point, that he wasn't completely wrong, doesn't leave him. And he can see now that, in his own weird way, Ubbe was trying to protect him. By preventing him from going, his big brother wanted to spare him humiliation, pity, and mockery. Hvitserk, of course, had been willing to help, but let's face it, Sigurd once again was right. Piggy-back riding is not really an option anymore, he is too heavy. Plus, if he's being honest, even if it were still possible, it's the last thing he'd want. The mere thought of you seeing him on Ubbe's or Hvitserk's back makes him nauseous. Which puts him back to square one.

The beach is a problem and a huge one. Wheeling in sand is a no-go. It's just fucking impossible. If he doesn't come up with an idea soon, he's not going to be physically able to attend the party. And that's something he doesn't want to consider.

"I need a fucking genius idea!" He speaks out loud, cracking his knuckles, his eyes squeezed shut.

Fuck.

He just wants to see you. Y/N... Just you. And he won't be able to.

Fuck. Fucking sand! Fucking beach! Fucking legs! Fuck– Stop.

Wait.

What... What did he say?

He needs an idea... A genius idea. Genius. That's it.

A slow smile spreads across his face.

Good thing he knows an authentic genius, right?

Grabbing his phone, he frantically slides his pointer finger on the screen, sighing with relief as he finds the contact he is looking for.

"Hello, Ivar," the man answers after two rings, and his voice brings an even bigger smile to Ivar's lips, "it's very sweet of you to call me."

"Hello to you too, you spindly legged, knock-kneed old fool. There might be something that you can do for me. I want to attend Harald's party. It'll take place on the beach. My brothers won't carry me and I can't really crawl about, can I? I wonder if you could help me, Floki?"

Ivar's godfather lets out a high-pitched chuckle before answering, "I'll figure something out, dear Ivar, I'll figure something out."

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Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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yuta-nakamots · 4 years

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Beautiful Time - h.rj ; Part 4 of 6

Pairing - Vampire!Renjun x Reader

Genre - Fluff i guess?? with some angst in the beginning??

Warnings - Mentions of blood, feeding, general vampire stuff

Summary - Vampires are creatures forced to walk upon the earth for longer than humans could possibly imagine. One would think it gets boring after a while, but not to Renjun, the foreign exchange student who seems to know a little too much about the early twentieth century.

Word Count - 3.2k

A/N - this is the last calm chapter we’re having haha. sorry it took me so long to update. i just started online summer school but my schedule turned out to be somewhat lighter than expected so i’ll try to update more frequently. feedback is greatly appreciated!

Today was the day that you’d be saying your last farewell to your friends and family. It was a day you dreaded and feared for, a day you never thought you’d ever have to endure. You were at the airport, surrounded by your loved ones as they wished you well in your journey abroad. You wished you could trick yourself into thinking that it was just that simple, that you were only going to be away for four years before being able to return, but you knew it wasn’t that easy.

Renjun was there for you the entire time, he was waiting for you at the check-in gate and came to help you with your luggage as soon as he saw you step out of the car. “Hello, my name is Huang Renjun, I’ll be a transfer student at the same university as y/n this coming school year. Nice to meet you” he said, introducing himself to your parents as he struggled to keep a respectful distance between the two of you.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s nice to know that y/n will already have a friend before school starts. She’s not the best at making friends” your mother jokes, oblivious to the way you rolled your eyes at her.

Despite the fact that Renjun was there, your emotions were just too much. You tried your hardest to not let the tears escape your eyes as you hugged your favorite relatives for what just might be the last time, though your crying would be easily justified anyways.

Once your little party had dispersed, everyone leaving the airport to continue on in their normal lives, you turned to Renjun who immediately pulled you into a hug before the tears could start falling again. You let out a sob, your tears wetting his shirt as he held you in his embrace. “Everything will work out, I promise. You won’t ever be alone as I’m still alive” he whispered, his lips almost grazing your ear as he spoke. “I know it’s not the same but you have a family with me. Whether it includes the other guys or whether it’s just us, I’ll stay with you, I’ll protect you.”

You felt numb the entire plane ride, barely even speaking to Renjun other than asking how to say the name of the airport, which he told you was the ‘Changchun Longjia International Airport’ and even taught you the pronunciation in Mandarin. As soon as the plane had taken off, Renjun was quick to raise the armrest between the two of you and pulled you so that your head rested against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you with his hand gripping your waist.

Renjun felt your intense overflow of emotions from the sadness and grief of parting from your loved ones to the fear of making such a giant change in your life, the excitement of going somewhere new, but also the smallest amount of happiness and fulfillment. He didn’t know the cause of it, but you did. You knew you loved him even if you weren’t big on vocalizing it towards him, but you always showed it to him whether it be through the way you untangled his hair after he spent an hour messing it up out of frustration, or the way you pressed your face further into the hoodie he was currently wearing. You let his scent calm you and eventually sleep overtook you, your energy spent from dealing with so much within just the past few hours.

By the time Renjun is gently rubbing your shoulder and calling your name to wake you, the plane is already about to land. Once you got off the plane and retrieved your luggage, you didn’t even have to think about finding Jaemin, who was supposed to pick you up because that’s literally what he did. Your mind was blank, just absently staring at the ground when suddenly the monotonous tiled floor was no longer under your feet. You didn’t even have enough energy to flinch as Jaemin’s arms held you as he swung you around cooing, “oh my baby is finally here! Do you know how much I missed you? Did you miss me too? I think you did!”

Renjun had to forcefully grab you out of Jaemin’s hold while lightly scolding him, “can’t you see that she’s tired?”

“My little cutie can fall asleep in my arms any day” Jaemin said, pulling you back into his arms and smashing his cheek into yours as if he were a cat. Renjun could only roll his eyes as he took your bags over to where Haechan was waiting, leaning against an expensive-looking car and as you got closer, you noticed it was a Tesla. You were shocked that they had a Tesla, you were even more shocked to find out that Haechan could drive, as none of them had previously mentioned any driving abilities, not that they really needed it with their superhuman speed.

“Did you guys actually steal a car or what?” Renjun exclaimed, clearly just as shocked as you.

Haechan scoffed as he pushed himself off the car, “‘or what’ is your answer. I’ll have you know that we didn’t steal it and it was fully paid for,” he said as he helped Renjun and Jaemin with your luggage, “not by us though. Chenle paid for it. That kid is loaded, I swear.”

At the mention of the new ‘kid’, Renjun’s face lit up as he let out a noise of surprise. As Renjun helped you into the backseat of the car, you made eye contact with him and asked, “who’s Chenle?”

“Ah! Chenle, he’s-” Renjun began, only to be cut off by Haechan, who was buckling himself into the driver’s seat.

“A pain in the ass.”

“Haechan, please be quiet or so help me, I will remove you from this vehicle.” His statement caused you and Jaemin to laugh, only getting an eye roll from Haechan as he started the car. “Chenle is, I guess what you could say, a younger cousin of mine. He’s a whole lot closer to your age though,” that sentence earning a chuckle from Haechan before Renjun reached over to smack the side of his head before continuing, “so he and I are definitely a ways apart in the family bloodline but I heard he was recently turned and he’s in training to take over some business his family runs.”

“Oh? How old is he?” You asked, excited to possibly meet someone who hasn’t been the same age for over ten years now.

Jaemin abruptly turned around, nearly scaring Haechan as he pulled out from the stall, his toothy smile showing as he spoke to you, “he’s only nineteen though he was turned a few years ago so I think he should be about twenty-three maybe.”

“Anyways,” Renjun began, “I think you’d like Chenle. He’s a lot more modern than I am so he’ll probably get your jokes more often than I do.”

“It’s okay that you’re old,” you interjected, “I think it’s cute when you get all confused and I have to teach you.”

Renjun shook his head, letting out a sigh of embarrassment, “The important thing about Chenle though is that he’s still considered a new vampire and I think you’ll find comfort in him since you’ll be transitioning alongside him. You’ll have him to play around with and talk to so it won’t be as lonely.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe how boring it was to just have Renjun to talk to” Haechan blurted as he navigated his way out of the airport.

“But you two are like old grandpas,” Jaemin complained, “I had no one to play with and talk to, they were both already some thousands of years old when I was turned. It was like being around mummies” he said, clearly exaggerating.

Despite the overly playful bantering, you were actually thinking about this Chenle guy and you were excited to meet him though you immediately associated him with your imminent fate to become one of them. The thought makes you shudder just a little because you had already done your own research and you knew just how painful it could be.

Haechan seems to always drive a little faster than what seems safe but you’re too tired to care, already dozing off, leaning against the window. The next time you open your eyes is due to Jaemin screaming at you to wake up as the car pulls up in front of a small, traditional, yet cute looking house. The aesthetics of the house immediately sparked the architecture major in you and you knew you could spend hours admiring what you assume to be Renjun’s house, but thankfully said boy pulls you inside the front door, not giving you much time to fully root yourself into the driveway.

Renjun himself seemed to pause in awe when he walked through the front door. “Like what we did to the place?” Haechan asked with a smug look on his face. The interior of the house was almost nothing like the exterior. The furniture was modern but minimalistic, mostly white with occasional wooden accents and grey walls. The difference was almost shocking yet you noticed how there were still traditional elements like the dragons carved into the walls and the gold plating around the light switches.

“Chenle paid for it” Jaemin stated. Again, it was that kid being mentioned with money, causing you to wonder just how much of it he had while Haechan complained to Renjun about how much work it was to remodel, only having himself, Jaemin, and Chenle to do the work. Though when Renjun continued to ignore him and wander off down a hallway, he moved onto bothering you, telling you how he plans to enroll in an interior design program in order to be your other half, who was interested in exterior design.

You playfully pushed him away as you followed Renjun, not wanting to be left alone with the most annoying one out of the bunch. You walked down the hallway to find Renjun and Jaemin already in what you presumed to be you and Renjun’s shared room.

It was a large, spacious room, the walls colored a cute pastel grey-blue mixture, almost the same color as Jaemin’s hair, ironically. Your eyes went from the large closets on opposite sides of the room to the entrance to the bathroom with the beautiful marbled flooring, then finally landing on the large queen-sized bed which was definitely an upgrade from the twin bed that you and Renjun had gotten used to sharing, the other person always half, if not fully, on top of the other.

Haechan quickly joined the three of you and immediately took it upon himself to challenge Jaemin, “I bet I can unpack a suitcase faster than you.” So of course, they both used this opportunity to utilize their enhanced speed to compete against each other in unpacking your suitcases, only slowing down to ask you or Renjun where you wanted a certain item or who it belonged to. You thoroughly enjoyed the show they put on for you, even if it was slightly headache-inducing due to the fact that your eyes couldn’t fully capture them moving so quickly.

By the time you sat down to eat the stew Jaemin had lovingly cooked for you, you were starved. You had barely even taken a single bite when there was a knock at the door. Jaemin left his position in front of the stove to see who it was, exclaiming as he opened the door and letting out a loud “Chenle-yahhhh!”

Your head immediately jerked up at the mention of the name, curious to see what he looked like after hearing so much about him. You were met by his fox-like smile and darkened red eyes as he introduced himself to you, already seeming to know who you were all the while squirming in Jaemin’s hold. “I’m Chenle, though I suppose you could tell already. Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

“Oh, I’m so happy! Our Chenle is finally talking to a girl! And I can’t believe my two babies are here together~” Jaemin’s incessant cooing causing Haechan to do his infamous dry heave as Renjun directed your attention back to your stew which was already cooling down.

Once Jaemin had calmed down, he took a seat next to you as Haechan and Renjun were busy talking to Chenle about business-related things. You had slowly lost your appetite, as you still associated Chenle with the fact that you had promised them that you’d let them turn you once you settled down here. Jaemin sensed the drop in your mood and didn’t hesitate to grab your hand, that had balled up without you noticing, and drawing shapes on it while reassuring you that it won’t hurt as much as you think. “Y/n, look at me. As long as Renjun is here, it won’t hurt at all. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

He only continues speaking once you take another mouthful of your food. “You’re lucky you have him, though I was lucky enough to have my sister. She turned me to save me after we got into a car accident with my parents,” he looked at you to gauge your reaction, going on after he sees you still chewing, “my parents didn’t make it and she knew they wouldn’t so instead she chose to save me, not wanting to lose all the people she cared for. Personally though, I only really appreciated her after I made the transition,” he looked at you again and you motioned for him to continue while gathering up another scoop. “She spent her early years as a vampire going back and forth between us and her husband. I didn’t realize how much self-control it took until after I had to experience it myself, the constant thirst, especially when your significant other isn’t around.”

You swallowed the food that was in your mouth before asking, “why do you always refer to relationships as if you’re still human? You never just call people ‘mates.’”

“Ah, I think that’s because I’m still fairly new to the whole vampire thing. I still view relationships the way you would, you know? I could be married by now and had kids if I was still human, I think I’d be turning thirty this year” he mused.

While you were lost in the thought of Jaemin having kids and chasing his own little toddlers around, you didn’t notice Chenle taking the seat across from you until he cleared his throat, a little too obnoxiously for Haechan’s liking, getting a slap to the back of his head. The second you looked up and made eye contact with him, he asked “so when are you turning?”

All eyes went to you and Renjun, who had begun stuttering from the sudden attention. “W-we, uh, we haven’t discussed it yet.” If his ears could turn red, they’d have been burning by now.

“Well hurry up then. I can’t wait to finally have someone to play with. Everyone here is so old and boring, they don’t even know what memes are” Chenle quips, earning himself yet another slap from Haechan along with an eye roll from Jaemin, who claims he’s not that old and knows what memes are too.

You miraculously managed to finish your dinner and stayed to help Jaemin clean up the few dishes he had used to cook for you. Haechan and Renjun had ventured off somewhere while Chenle stayed seated at the table, only turning the chair around so he could face you and ask you questions while you did the dishes. Chenle asked you countless questions ranging from when you were born to what your favorite season was and if you had watched the latest trending shows on Netflix.

You could tell he was much closer to your age, as it soon felt like you were talking to just another friend rather than someone who wasn’t even the species as you. Chenle was very energetic and playful, already having taken to teasing you in the slightest ways while cracking jokes that you doubt Renjun, or even Haechan, would understand.

As you finished with the dishes, Renjun had returned to the kitchen, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while resting his head on your shoulder. “My love, there’s something I want to show you” he murmured into your ear, gently pulling you away from the sink. Jaemin and Chenle followed along as Renjun led you downstairs and through the lounge area you only caught a glimpse of earlier.

While your attention was drawn to all the high-tech gaming devices set up, you didn’t notice the solid steel door Renjun was guiding you to, only turning to look at it as he was turning the handle and pushing the door open, revealing Haechan inside a small room painted almost entirely grey. It resembled the look of a hospital room, except instead of the cot, there was a metal table with leather straps hanging loosely from the sides which Haechan was playing with.

You looked at Renjun, having an idea as to what this room is for, as he places an arm around your waist and steps inside. Haechan looks up and clears his throat loudly, almost as annoying as the way Chenle did earlier except this one is filled with pride. “Lady and not-so-gentlemen,” he began, Jaemin whining from behind you, clearly upset at Haechan’s choice of words, “this room is my work of art, which Renjun had commissioned me to construct. It is complete with state of the art noise cancelling walls and sealed ventilation to aid you in your transfer from human to vampire” he said, with a smirk at the end.

You were taken aback at how blunt Haechan was being, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it due to Jaemin letting out a loud ‘wOW’ and running to the table, dragging Chenle along and asking him to strap him down. You let out a laugh at their childish antics while Haechan let out a sigh before turning back to you and Renjun and stating, “I’ll be ready whenever both of you are.”

Later that night, as you were cuddling in bed with Renjun after letting him feed from you, you turned to face him in your euphoric haze and whined “Renjunnieee~ when are you going to make me into a vampire? I want to be like youuu.”

“When would you like to do it, darling?” He replied, smiling at your current state, your eyes barely even open as you struggled to stay awake.

“I want it a-s-a-p,” you babbled, “as soon as possible.” Renjun only laughed as he placed a hand on your cheek while running his thumb over your lip. “I need to stop aging now or else I’m gonna end up older than youuuu.”

Renjun wheezed at your worry of passing his frozen age of twenty when yet, he was well over a hundred years old. As you were about to start whining again, he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you and saying “we’ll turn you as soon as possible then.” He pulled away slowly as your eyelids fluttered shut, smiling to himself as you let yourself drift off to sleep.

@nct-writers

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

A/N: This is a big one. Trust me. 2.7k words.

TW for violence, blood, and threats

Synposis: Your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, has gone missing. After acting erratic for a few weeks, spending all his time locked away in his studio, he suddenly vanishes into thin air, leaving only an unreleased album behind. Zodiac.

Chapter Seven - devotion bent me broken

“We should probably go back to your house,” you mumble reluctantly, feeling Jin’s chest rise and fall rhythmically under your ear. “I’m pretty sure there’ll be nothing edible left in my fridge at this point.”

You let your finger swirl lazy patterns on the warm skin of his torso as he chuckles. “Mm, you’re probably right. But I think I just want to stay here for a little longer. With you.”

For a while, you let time tick by and just listen to the sound of his heart beating and enjoy the feeling of his strong arm wrapped around you, but eventually the bed grows cold and the light streaming in through your window is too harsh to ignore.

The two of you dress quietly and he drives you back. As he pulls into the driveway, though, your head lifts up off the headrest and your mouth drops.

The driveway is littered with chunks and slivers of glass. The glass walls of the lounge, once showy and modern, now are smashed with jagged edges, a crime scene. “Oh my god,” you whisper in disbelief. “Someone’s broken in.”

Jin swears. He looks angry rather than frightened like you. “Come on,” he commands brusquely, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him, “let’s see the damage.”

You rush to join him, cowering behind his broad shoulders as you cross your fingers tightly and hope the criminal who had done it wasn’t still in there. As you cross the threshold and follow Jin into the kitchen-dining area, you swear too.

The place has been trashed. The tile of the kitchen is littered with shards of wine glasses and plates, someone’s taken something sharp to the walls, scratching it up to slivers. The television isn’t missing but it has been smashed; a web impacted in the center with one of Jin’s debate competition trophies lying at the foot of it.

Jin keeps running a hand through his hair and sighing, and part of you is almost scared to venture upstairs to the bedrooms in case they’ve been upturned too. But at the same time, you’re not really that focused on this event. Instead, you think back to what you need to do. Hoseok had done something to Namjoon, and you needed to work out what. Some part of you thought perhaps he had done this, although realistically you knew it was likely a petty criminal taking the opportunity of an empty house.

“Jin, let’s call the police and let them handle this. I want you to come to the studio and talk to Hobi with me. I think he knows more than he’s letting on about Namjoon.”

Jin lets out a huff. “That’s not- We have other things to worry about, Y/n. My house has been trashed, can’t you see? I’m sorry, baby, I wish I could come with you to visit your friend but right now I need to sort out insurance claims. This fucker’s probably trashed my study; I need to make sure all my case files are intact for work. I have a hearing tomorrow, for God’s sake! It’s just not a good time. I’m sorry. Take the car if you want.”

You nod slowly. “Okay, that’s understandable. Listen, I just… If I don’t call you or text you in three hours’ time, can you please come to the studio? I don’t know what I’m walking into, but I have to do this.”

He looks up at you with a soft smile and walks over to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You’ll be absolutely fine,” he says reassuringly, “but I will, I promise.”

Hoseok isn’t in his studio when you stop by, so you drive quickly to his apartment ten minutes away. It’s not ideal; you’d feel much safer in a public place with security cameras, but you can’t give up and go home now. Not when you feel like resolution is so close.

He gives you a warm hug when he answers the door, surely noticing the way you tense up, and offers you a drink. Not so easily fooled, you decline.

“I know about the threats. The argument you had with Namjoon, the deal you made with the cops.”

He freezes, back to you as he slowly shuts the fridge door behind him. “y/n, I…”

“It’s over, Hoseok. Those detectives, they don’t care much for justice, but I do. I need to know the truth. What did you do with him?”

He runs a hand through his dull hair and sighs, rubbing at his eyes. You notice the sunken look to them. He’s lost weight. “I didn’t do anything. I promise you.”

You scoff bitterly. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t believe you. See, an innocent man would never destroy evidence and bribe members of the law. Did you really think you’d get away with this? You disgust me, Hoseok. You really do. How could you do this to him?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he bellows, turning around and slamming a fist on the bench in front of you. You flinch violently and step back, which causes his face to crumple and the tension vanish. “Y/n, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You have to trust me, sweetheart, I would never do something like this!”

You shake your head slowly, feeling rage well up within you. “Just tell me, Hoseok. Tell me where Namjoon is, please.”

You step forward again, knowing that right now you needed him to see you as a threat rather than someone who was weak and easily manipulated. Your eyes flicker to the wooden knife holder on the bench to your right.

He sighs and rubs his face again, looking completely defeated. When his hands come down, they open up toward you and he steps forward as if to embrace you. “Sweetheart, I-”

Reflexively, your hand shoots out in a fist and you catch him square on the nose. He cries out and clutches at it, stumbling back until he’s flush against the refrigerator door. His legs buckle under him and he slides to the floor, viscous blood beginning to slip between his clasped fingers.

Your heart lurches sickeningly seeing him clench his eyes tightly in pain, but you force it down. This is your chance to show you mean business and get answers. You crouch in front of him, grabbing onto his shirt as he sobs weakly. “Hoseok, stop lying to me. I… I won’t even press charges if you just tell me what you did to him and where he is, Hobi. I promise. Just tell me the truth and I’ll go away, okay?”

“I…am,” he forces out, spitting out the blood that drips into his mouth when he opens it. “I didn’t do anything.”

You growl in frustration and stand up again, stalking over to the wooden holder and tugging out a small knife, returning to crouch in front of him.

Hoseok widens his eyes. “Jesus, Y/n, I-”

“Don’t make me do this,” you whisper, feeling adrenaline take a hold of you. This is your last shot. You have no intentions of using the knife; you know you could never sleep at night if you did, and the blood from his nose is making you queasy enough as it is, but the threat might just suffice.

He moans thickly, tears pooling in the outer corners of his eyes. “Fine, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.”

Your eyes widen, and you drop the knife. He jumps when it clatters against the tile, but sighs out in relief. “Tell me.”

“On Thursday, he visited my studio.” “I know. You made the detectives delete the footage.”

“Yes, well… It’s not what you think. Namjoon, he… He was going mad, Y/n. Ever since I sent him those texts, which I apologized for, he wouldn’t talk to me. Acted like I was a supervillain out to get him and get you. I swear, I would never do anything to hurt you, sweetheart.” His lip trembles. “You’re my friend. Anyway, the little I did see of him coming and going, he was different. Whispering to himself, writing lyrics on his arms like he didn’t want to forget them in the time it took to get inside the studio. Then all of a sudden, on Thursday, he unlocked my door and came inside.”

You feel yourself begin to shake slightly. Suddenly, the guilt of your actions crashes upon you and the pressure feels unbearable. Even though he’d done something, you were sure of it, you felt disgusted with yourself as you watched him wallowing in pain. You stand up and grab a box of tissues, offering it to him.

He grabs a wad out, gingerly wiping his gushing nose and cleans off his fingers, leaving dried brown stains behind. He balls them up and presses it underneath his nose with a grimace. “When he came in, he was erratic. Kept glancing at the door, making sure it was still open behind him, like he needed a quick exit. He told me he was going away, that he couldn’t put you at risk anymore.” Hoseok sobs once more, and coughs weakly. “I tried, Y/n, I swear I tried to convince him to stay, that he didn’t need to go. As much as I told him the texts were a mistake and I wouldn’t do anything, he just wouldn’t listen to me. He felt like the only way you’d be safe was if he disappeared completely. It doesn’t make sense to me, I don’t know why he did it, but… That’s what really happened.”

You frown, dropping out of your crouch to sit fully on the kitchen floor. “But… I don’t understand. Why would you destroy the evidence and bribe Jeon and Park if you didn’t do anything?”

He laughs bitterly, finally dabbing away the last of the fresh blood as it began to congeal and stop flowing. “Because the moment anyone looked into it, they’d realize I looked suspicious as fuck and arrest me. I’m not as successful as Namjoon, Y/n. My career would be dead in the water if I had a scandal like this.”

“So, you just pinned it on Yoongi?”

“I just wanted someone they could point fingers at long enough for me to sort my mess out, I swear! I thought if I just got them to focus on him for a while, then once I got that footage wiped and those text records deleted, then the detectives would say they didn’t have enough evidence and it would remain unsolved. To be honest with you, Y/n, I really thought Namjoon would chicken out and come back. I just can’t believe that he’s completely gone. He loved you more than anything, you know? So much that it drove him crazy.”

You stand up suddenly, vision spotting for a moment. The guilt inside you was threatening to pull you under, and you had to leave. “Hobi, I am so so sorry. Fuck, I… I thought for sure you’d killed him, or kept him in your basement or something, fuck.”

“It’s okay,” he waved off, though you could recognize the smile he plastered on as fake. “We both made mistakes. I hope…” he breaks off with a sigh, dropping the smile and looking at you intensely. “I really hope that you feel like you can move on now. Nobody should’ve had to go through that, least of all someone as kind and loving as you.”

You break his gaze, feeling anything but kind and loving. “…I have to go, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have come here.”

He pushes himself up off the floor with a pained groan, leaning against the bench for support. “It’s okay, I understand why you did what you did. I’m sorry for not being honest. I wish I had handled all of…this better. I love you, sweetheart.”

You wrinkle your nose and blink, fighting back tears of your own. “Love you, Hobi.”

As you pull onto Jin’s street, your phone goes, off, but you wait until you park his car outside his house before you check it. You frown. It’s a text from Jin.

Do you have feelings for me?

A little out of the blue, but you supposed it was probably fair, given the two of you had slept together just last night. You figured it’d be better to just speak with him, so you ignored the message and went inside.

“Hey, Jin?” He called out to you from the kitchen, where he was poring over some documents, reading glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hmm? About what?” He breaks his gaze from the paper and glances up at you, twirling his wrist and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose absentmindedly.

You tilt your head to the side. “Your message?”

“Oh, did you try to text me? Sorry, I’ve been on the phone with the insurance provider for the past hour, so I’ve put it in my study to charge. What’s up?”

You glance down at your phone. Do you have feelings for me? “No, it’s fine, I’m just gonna go to my bedroom and grab a sweater. It’s a little cold in here with the hole in the glass wall.”

He chuckles good-naturedly and returns to his work, leaving you with nothing to do except go up and see if his phone was where he said it was.

But as you ascended the steps quietly, sneaking on your tiptoes like you didn’t want to disturb whoever was in his study, using his phone, something else caught your attention.

A light on in the attic, with the door slightly ajar.

You glance quickly into Jin’s study, seeing it in a very similar state of chaos as downstairs was, but his phone is on his desk, plugged in like he told you.

You glance back to the attic and bite your lip, uncertain. He was probably just up there to check if the criminal had done the same damage up there and forgot to shut the light off. It was probably nothing.

It was probably nothing, but you had to check anyway. You climbed up the steep narrow steps at the end of the hallway and pushed the door open. You expected a creak or a groan, but it swung open silently, leaving you with nothing but the sound of your own gasp.

It was a mess in here, but nothing like it was downstairs.

No. With a sick twist in your stomach and a throbbing in your head, you slowly entered the room, glancing around you. In the far corner was a blow-up mattress with a blanket tossed haphazardly over it. A couple of plastic bags were filled with clothes, and there was a plate of half-eaten food on one of the dusty old boxes near the wall. You recognized it as the kimchi fried rice Jin had made for dinner two nights ago. Someone had been living up here.

You walk in further, feeling a lump in your throat as you see what the papers littering the floor are.

What must be at least eighty photos of you are scattered around the attic. Some are selfies you have posted on social media, but most of them are photographs you recognize from yours and Namjoon’s photo album. The one that went missing a week or so before he did.

Some of them have Namjoon in them too, photos of the two of you posing at the top of a hill, or with your arms wrapped around each other tightly as you grinned your cheeks off. Just the sight of him…the sight of him happy and carefree brings tears to your eyes.

With a dawning sense of heartbreak and terror, you think you understand exactly what is going on, but you can’t truly believe it until you hear a creak on the stairs.

You turn around slowly.

“You didn’t answer my question, baby. Do you have feelings for him?”

OOHHHHHHH shit’s getting reaaaal (sorry I’ll see myself out)

But seriously, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to get to this point in the story. We only have about two or three chapters after this, our poor MC is finally starting to get to the bottom of this.

Tell me your thoughts! Come scream at me in my inbox. Did you see it coming? Were you suspicious of the right man/men?

TAGLIST Message me or send in an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist. You’ll receive a notification every time I update ZODIAC.

@itishebihime-samaforyou || @hoodiebangtan || @sunnysideupsmile|| @emilypkuzu || @youngmsfts || @sugarrimajins || @samisderp || @6ukks

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts au #jin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi #jungkook #jimin #taehyung

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staticscreenwriting · 6 years

Text

the same sunset - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Whole Lotta Love

The loud roaring of an engine breaks through the silence as Billy Hargrove races along the dimly lit streets of Hawkins Indiana. It’s like one minute the light rain covered the small town in a veil of peace and serenity and the next it’s broken by the sound of a camaro and Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love blasting from the car radio and one angry boy screaming along and thumping his hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Billy feels the adrenaline rushing through his veins, from racing, from the party he’s just come from and from fighting Mitchel Greenfield. From living recklessly. From feeling alive. From feeling something — anything.

He’s going too fast and he’s way too intoxicated but there’s not stopping now. Not when he feels like this, untouchable. What else could he want from a night ? He was the center of attention at the party, held his keg stand record, got his dick sucked by not one but two girls, got to put rich boy Mitchel in his place and to top it all off he got to rub it all in Steve Harrington’s face.

He can’t let this feeling die. Not ever. Especially not tonight.

Not tonight.

As those thoughts run through his mind he can feel the euphoric frenzy drain from his system. The excitement and the buzz make way for what’s actually going on inside of him and he hates it. All night he’s been trying to push that to the back of his mind, numb it with reckless abandon. He’s been chasing highs to keep the lows at bay. And yet they’re creeping back in.

So he’s pushing down harder on the gas pedal. The world around him passes by in a blur of lights and shadows. Trees and trees and more trees. Fields. Cows. A Pumpkin patch. Then there’s houses, mostly small ones. Not cute and homely like his used to be back in California. No they’re all dull and sad looking. Just like the one he’s living in right now. Just like the people here.

Billy hates this town and everyone in it. It’s all pretend here. Perfectly happy nuclear families living their perfectly happy lives only they’re all miserable. All of them.

There’s some diner at the end of the road, he knows Carol and Tommy go there on their soppy date nights. Supposedly the burgers are good but what do these Hillbillies know about good burgers anyway ?

He’s going too fast. He notices this as the street curves right and his clammy hands grip the steering wheel tightly trying to steer the car in the right direction only for it to slither and swerve on the wet asphalt.

If this is how it ends, Billy thinks, at least he’s going out loud and fast. Then he chastises himself for being so fucking dramatic. Then he hears the crunch of the gravel beneath the wheels. Then the scraping of metal against metal as his baby smashes right into the red ford truck that’s parked in front of the diner.

And then it’s quite again. There’s just the rain and the night and the quiet town of Hawkins Indiana blissfully unaware of how fucked up everything around here really is.

It’s really kind of ironic, Billy thinks as he wipes away the blood dripping from his nose where his head hit the steering wheel, almost dying on his own birthday.

He doesn’t get out of the car. Doesn’t even care about the damage he’s caused. He just wants to sleep and mute the throbbing inside his head. He’s so tired suddenly. Completely exhausted. So when he closes his eyes for a mere second, he’s out like a light.

Light breaks through the fogged up window of his car as Billy’s eyes open slowly. His head is still throbbing, maybe even more so and it takes a moment for him to remember why and how he ended up here. When realization sets in, his heart sinks.

He’s caused an accident. His first ever accident. If there was one thing Billy always prided himself with, it was his unwavering ability to drive recklessly and not cause any harm or damage. Apparently he wasn’t even good at that after all, Neil might have a point in his constant belittling of Billy.

Oh shit, Neil.

At the thought of his dad finding out about what happened, Billy’s heart speeds up, he starts to feel insanely hot and extremely cold at the same time. His hands get clammy and he feels like someone is continuously putting pressure on his chest. Suddenly the car feels too small, too contained like there’s no room to breath.

When he get out and takes in the air, still heavy with morning dew and fog, it feels like his lungs don’t even expand all the way. It’s all shallow breaths and quick thumping heart.

He thinks this is what he should’ve felt like last night when the accident happened, when he could’ve actually died. But no, he was strangely calm then. Death seems like the easy way out compared to dealing with the shit he’s gotten himself into now. Compared to confessing this to his dad. Death seems easy compared to living.

Billy’s eyes wander towards the red truck that he’s crashed into. The entire drivers side of the car is fucked up. There’s a huge dent, pieces are missing or broken and everything is just a whole entire mess.

Billy Hargrove doesn’t cry a lot but, especially in public, but in this moment all he wants to do is break down and sob. His eyes are already watering and his breaths are still shallow. He thinks he might be having a panic attack.

How the fuck is he supposed to explain this to Neal ? It’s impossible. He can already feel the sting on his cheek. He wonders what story to tell people in school when they wonder about the inevitable black eye.

There’s so much going on inside him at that moment. Above all, he’s scared. It feels like time stands still and moves in lightning speed at the same time. His heart stopped and thumps a mile a minute. He’s numb and yet he’s on high alert. Maybe dying would’ve been the easy part.

“ Well good morning sunshine “ a deep voice speaks up from behind Billy.

As he turns around his eyes meet those of a stranger. He’s a tall burly man with a thick beard that’s slightly but surely turning from a dirty blond to a silver grey. He’s intimidating in stature but his eyes don’t look angry as much as they look determined.

“ That’s my car you smashed there “ Pete continues as Billy stays unresponsive except for his eyes who seem to latch onto every word Pete is saying, as if it takes a moment for Billy to fully register them as they come.

“ Thought you was dead for a second but then I noticed you were just dead asleep. You wanna tell me what happened there ? “

Where the fuck did his ability to drive perfectly even when way too fast, even when intoxicated, go? It was a reckless, irresponsible and fucking dangerous talent but a talent nonetheless and that was a win in Billy’s book.

Why did he fuck up so hard this time ?

“ I uh — “ his throat feels like sandpaper, his word are heavy as cement blocks. “ I’m dead “.

It’s the only thought running through his head. It’s like whenever he’s trying to form coherent sentences, he’s drawing a blank. He’s dead meat as soon as his dad finds out about this.

If it was only his car that was damaged, he’s just try to scrap together some money and get it fixed but it seems as if his only has a few scratches and dents while the truck’s side is damaged like a squashed beercan.

He’s hyperventilating. It’s too much. He can take a lot, has learned to cope, has gotten used to it but even Billy Hargrove has a limit. And that limit has been reached, crossed and exceeded in this moment.

“ Kid ? “ a big warm hand comes down on his shoulder and Billy involuntarily flinches. Those touches don’t usually come with warmth and care and worry. They come with pain and resentment and misplaced anger.

“ Hey, hey kid. I’m not gonna rip your head off or anything. Don’t worry “

It’s not him he’s worried about though. Billy wishes it was. Wishes that his biggest concern was the stranger who’s car he wrecked. Wishes he could go home and explain what happened to parents who cared about his well being. He wishes things were different.

But they aren’t. It’s a shit show all around.

“ My dad is gonna kill me “

Billy meets the Stranger’s eyes again. He looks concerned. Understanding. Kind almost. Billy can’t fathom why the fuck this guy shows him anything but animosity. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve the kindness he’s coming his way. He’s fucked up. His dad might actually have a point after all.

“ Look, kid. That’s my diner right there. Let’s go sit down, I’ll get you something to eat and then we can talk, alright ? “

Billy wants to say no. He wants to tell the guy that he’s gonna get the money somehow and pay him all the damage worth. He wants to walk the fuck away from this mess. Actually he just wants the earth to swallow him whole.

But none of that happened because as his mind works a mile a minute, all jumbled up and confused, his body doesn’t. It’s like his physical form is on autopilot, following the man into the diner and sitting down on a red leather seat that looks like it’s seen better times.

It’s warm and cozy in here, a nice change to the chilly air of a mid November day. While the guy runs towards the back of the diner, where the kitchen is located, Billy’s eyes roam around the room.

The cushioned booths look like they’ve seen better days and the ceiling fan in missing a blade. There’s only a few booths, maybe 5, and 4 seats by the counter. It seems like they were trying to stay with a red white and black color scheme but abandoned the idea halfway through.

Nothing in here really matches but there is a certain kind of charm about it, Billy has to admit. This might just be the only place in all of Hawkins that doesn’t pretend to be something it isn’t. It’s not perfect, it’s chaotic and mismatched and there’s things in here, like the waving cat figurine by the cash register, that clearly don’t belong here, but it’s not trying to deny it. It knows it’s imperfect and it’s okay if people know that.

Billy wishes he’d found this place under different circumstances.

A while later the man comes back, a plate filled with eggs and bacon in one hand, a steaming hot cup of coffee in the other. He sets them down in front of Billy and motions with his head towards the food. “Eat up !”

Billy is still flabbergasted by the irony of this situation. He’s so incredibly undeserving of the kindness, the food, the shelter. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve this man’s time.

“ I — I’m sorry “

Billy Hargrove isn’t one to say sorry. He’s living life at his terms, at his speed, with all the consequences and casualties that might pile up along the way. He doesn’t say sorry, ever.

Only this time he does because it’s the only thing there is to say. It doesn’t suffice but it’s a start.

The man is silent for a moment but Billy can feel his eyes on him. Not judging, but assessing him.

“ That’s good to hear. You do know I will have to tell your parents about this “.

Billy feels 5 years old again, being scolded for being a bratty child. Helpless, ashamed, sad. For the first time in a long time he’s being confronted with the reality he has created for himself. There’s only so much you can blame on the situation, on his family, his surroundings. In the end he’s the one who went down the easy route. The reckless one.

He’s never gonna admit any of that out loud, to anyone, ever. But that’s the way things are and he’s scared shitless that all his stupid teenage angst and post-pubescent anger is coming back to bite him in the ass now.

He wishes his mom was here. She’d be mad as hell, not because of the damage but because he got himself in a dangerous situation. She’s scold him, sure but then she’d also help him get out of this mess. Then again, he isn’T sure his mom would even like the person he’s become these days. He can’t even stand himself most of the time.

“ You — you can’t tell my dad. I promise I am gonna find a way to pay you back for the damages. I promise! “

Billy is talking out of his ass right now. He knows it and he’s fairy sure the guy knows it too. There’s approximately $12 in his wallet right now and another $23 stored in the shoe box beneath his bed. He’s got no job and he as hell won’t be asking Neil for money anytime soon. To be quite honest, Billy was royally fucked. But there was no way Neil could ever know about this.

“ How you gonna do that then ? “ the man asks, he still looks calm and collected and he even has a little smirk playing in the corner of his lips. Billy thinks that’s fucking weird, this guy should be chewing him up right now, not fucking smile at him.

“ I uh — I got savings “

He doesn’t.

“ and stuff I can sell “

Bullshit.

“ … and I’m sure my friends can help me out a little. “

What friends ? Tommy and Carol are the closest to a friend that Billy has right now and they are barely getting by as it is.

“ Just don’t tell my dad. He can’t know “

Billy hopes that the intensity of his voice, the begging tone, the sheer devastation in his eyes, comes across. Maybe appeals to the guy’s conscience. Sure he could be doing an emotional strip right now and put everything out in the open. He could tell the guy that if his dad finds out he caused an accident and has to pay for the damages, he’s in for a good old beating from his dear old man. He could tell it all and maybe awake some sort of pity in the guy. But his mother didn’t raise a snitch, didn’t raise a pussy.

Airing your family's dirty laundry in public just isn’t something the Hargroves do or ever did. No matter how dirty. No matter how bad. Those things stay behind closed doors where no one can see and no one can hear and no one can judge. So all the public sees is a fairly functional patchwork family that is trying their best to get on with their lives after they’ve been dealt some pretty shitty cards.

The man is silent for a moment, he rubs a hand along his beard and looks deep in thought. And then he looks up at Billy and there’s a pity in his eyes that Billy knows fairly well but hasn’t seen in a while. It’s that look that people have when they find out his mother died, the one he’s been greeted with for months after she had passed away. The one that comes with an abundance of “ I’m sorry”s and “ Let me know if there is anything I can do”s. Billy hates that look, usually. No I’m sorry is gonna bring his mom back. Today though, that look might just save his ass.

“ Look, boy. I uh — I don’t know what’s going on at home and if you don’t wanna talk I ain’t gonna ask. Thing is, I need this car to run errands and stuff. I live real close so I can walk to and from work but getting groceries, driving my little one to school ? That stuff ain’t gonna do itself. I got a proposition for you. “

“ Okay “

“ You ever worked before ? “

No. Billy has never worked a day in his life, not for money at least. Back in California, he used to help out his friend Mike and his dad at the garage sometimes, fixing cars and shit. That was more for fun than for anything else though. It was a nice time just hanging out with his friend and dad and drinking a few beers and working on cars. Just guys being guys. Stereotypical and outdated, probably but it was still fun. Something he wishes he could’ve done with his dad. If his dad wasn’t such an insufferable asshole.

“ Not really. I mean I know my way around cars and shit but — no. “

“ Well, here’s the deal. I need someone to run my errands while my car gets fixed. You do that for me, help me out whenever needed. When I don’t need you to drive anywhere you’re gonna help me out here at the diner. The money you earn goes into fixing my car. Once it’s paid off you get to leave and we don’t have to tell no one about it. But I need to be able to rely on you, kid. “

No one has ever really relied on Billy, in his entire life. It’s a heavy burden on his shoulder but what else is there to do ? It’s either this or facing Neil’s wrath. It’s either this or a black eye. A sore jaw. A bleeding nose. Over and over again.

“ Why are you doing this ? Why are you being — nice ? “

Sure, Billy isn’t an idiot. He is well aware that there are people who are just nice for the sake of being nice. People who just have it in them to show kindness to everyone no matter the situation. But that doesn’t mean he’s not still surprised and shocked when coming across someone like that. Maybe it comes with being surrounded by horrible people day in day out, maybe being a horrible person himself.

God, he sounds like an old bitter hag.

“ Man, I’m just trying to collect some good karma points until I’m stood before those pearly gates “ the guy jokes “ nah but honestly, you’re what 18 ? “

“ 17 “

“ 17! I’ve done stupid shit at 17. It’s just a car after all, no one got hurt. Lords knows I’ve been given seconds chances and thirds. Who says you don’t ? Just — just don’t make me regret it “

He probably will. If there’s one thing Billy is good at, it’s fucking up. That doesn’t mean he’s not gonna try his damn best to get this over and done as fast as possible, without completely messing up.

“ Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it. I’m Billy by the way “

“ Pete. Pete Finch “ He reaches out his hand for Billy to shake before getting up and walking towards the counter “ now eat up and go home. I expect you here showered and ready in a few hours. Your first shift starts at 5. I hope you suit red and white because there’ a uniform. “

Well things just can’t get any worse from here.

Things did get worse.

Billy is staring at himself in the little mirror that’s hung above the sink in the diner’s break room. He’s in a white shirt and jeans but they gave him not only a name tag but also a red bow tie and a ridiculous little hat thing that has the diner’s logo printed on it.

The Early Bird is a cute diner, a charming place really, but the uniform makes Billy look absolutely goofy. The shirt is too tight and paired with the bowtie it’s comically ridiculous at best and borderline stripper-esque at worst.

He just hopes Neil never stumbles into this place. Getting comments from schoolmates who might end up here for a burger and shakes, that he can deal with, but his dad ? Never !

It’s a fairly quiet day today. There’s a couple in one of the booths celebrating their 5 year anniversary and two families enjoying some burgers and fries. Billy has successfully charmed the mothers into buying the more pricey deserts. Moms, he thinks, are so easy to wrap around his finger. Maybe he gets to keep the tip.

Fumbling the pack of smokes from his jacket, Billy walks towards the back door of the diner. Pete has allowed him a few smoke breaks throughout the day, as long as he’s not needed urgently. Billy thanks the heavens for that.

The cold air hits his skin, as Billy steps outside into the crisp November evening. He misses the warmth of californian falls. He’s not made for a weather like this, cold and dry and uncomfortable.

Just as he is about to light a smoke, Billy notices a movement to his right. There’s a shiny dark red chevy chevelle parked behind the diner and on the hood of the car there’s a girl.

Her bright blonde hair is permed to the max and cascades down one side of her face. Her lips are painted a deep red that matches her car perfectly and Billy can just make out the shine of a metal ring through the left side of her nose. She’s wearing the same crisp white shirt he was given as part of the uniform only her’s isn’t too tight. Hers is tied into a knot at the front. Billy wonders if living here for a longer amount of time makes a person immune to the cold weather because there’s no way she isn’t freezing with her top exposing part of her midriff. Sure it’s not a lot and she’s wearing a jacket over it but still.

She’s clutching a book in one hand while the other flicks ash of a cigarette.

“ I can feel you staring, it’s rude “

She lifts her eyes up to catch his gaze. There’s a smirk playing on her lips as she notices she caught him off guard.

“ Well you got a nice car there “ Billy replies and walks down the small steps of the diner and towards the girl. The Chevelle is almost sparkling in what little sunlight breaks through the clouds. He loves his Camaro but this car is an absolute dream.

“ Thanks. Got if for my 16th birthday. Gotta share it with my dad now though, cause someone crashed his car “

Fuck. Of all the bad first impressions Billy has ever made, this is probably the worst of them all. He knows shit all about girls, other than maybe how to woo them into his bed, but he’s quite sure no one’s overly fond of people who demolish other people’s cars.

“ Yeah, I know that was you. You drive a Camaro, I noticed your car at school. People around here don’t usually drive cars like that so I put two and two together when dad told me what happened “.

“ Sorry about that “ he isn’t sure why he feels the need to apologize to her too but maybe Pete was right, maybe collecting some good karma points isn’t the worst idea.

“ I’m sure you are after he put you in that ridiculous uniform. I’m Cleo by the way. “

“ Cleo like Cleopatra ? “

“ Cleo like the pet goldfish in the Pinocchio movie “

Before he has a chance to process that fun little part of trivia, Cleo jumps off of the car and stomped out her cigarette. She swiftly unties the shirt and fumbles the nametag from the pocket of her jeans before pinning it to her uniform.

“ I’d love to stay and chat but I gotta start my shift. Oh by the way, if I catch you slacking in the job I’m gonna get real mad. I’m okay with my dad giving you a chance but I’m not gonna pick up your work if you’re being slow or unreliable. “

“ Uh yeah — sure. Noted “

He acts like a stumbling idiot. This whole situation has really thrown him for a loop. Get yourself together, man.

“ It’s all in the hair babe. People will hear about my good looks and my gorgeous hair and the burgers will sell themselves, you just sit back and watch “.

There we go. That’s the Billy everyone expects. Everyone knows. “ I’m B — “

“ Billy, I know. Everyone knows the new kid. Especially when he’s as cocky as you are “ Cleo laughs and opens the back door. Just before she enters the diner she turns back around, long curls twirling around her face.

“ Just so you know, the hat and the bowtie aren’t part of the uniform. He’s just messing with you, pretty boy “

Billy finally lights his cigarette as the door of the diner closes behind Cleo. His mom would slap him upside the head if she knew he had taken up smoking. She always hated when his dad did it and little Billy had to swear to her that he would never pick up on his father’s vices. But she had also promised him to be there forever, to never leave him and to always protect him and though the rational part of him knows that she isn’t to blame for her own death, a tiny part of Billy still holds some resentment. And that part enjoys his cigarettes very much.

His eyes fall back onto the shiny car as he lets his mind wander. His friend Chase has a Chevelle, they drove it all the way along the PCH one time during spring break. It was a roadtrip filled with shitty 7/11 food and nights of hardly any sleep but god, did they have fun.

He misses home. California and the sun and the beach and his friends. Mostly his friends. Actual friends. People who cared about him because they liked him as a person, not because of his status at school or because the ladies like him. Just because of who he is.

He misses it so much.

Then again, none of them have bothered to check up on him so maybe, maybe they don’t care all that much after all.

Maybe no one ever does.

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery fanfiction #tsmstorymasterlist

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thewildwilds · 7 years

Text

We’re Runners

A little ficlet for @artsy-dragoness for the very beautiful fanart she drew for this AU!!!

And uh… I’m sorry, this is technically out of chronological order from what’s currently happening with this ‘verse, but uuuuh, hopefully I’ll catch up to it soon?? Consider it a little preview I guess.

Also Gambler/Yakuza AU is gonna undergo some Changes. I’ll post about it soon (hopefully).

Even as prolific as they are, it’s not impossible to find a casino that isn’t Pekoyama-operated. They’re small, sure, and usually hidden in some residential area, masquerading as a respectable home or business. It’s a far cry from the fancy bars and elaborate underground set-ups the Pekoyamas and other big-name gangs got going on. Fuyuhiko doesn’t mind them so much, really. He got his start in seedy casinos and back alley gambling rings, and he likes to remember his roots.

A little gambling house doesn’t necessarily mean a smaller turnout though. The gamblers risk just as much, whether they’re hoodlums or salarymen, and everyone brings cash. He foregoes the virtual gambling machines in favor of the private poker room. It’s more fun when he’s got a face to put to the cash, and sometimes the pot is still just as sweet.

They don’t know him by his face, and at that point, it’s easy to offer up a fake name and some counterfeit identification. After that, he just lets the night run its course.

“Wow! Looks like I won. Lucky me!” he says airily, sweeping up the wrinkly bills piled on the table. It wasn’t hard convincing them he didn’t know what he was doing, but not everything has to be a challenge, and besides, it’s funny to see the looks of disbelief on three different faces.

“Well, better get going while the going’s still good, you know what I mean? Better luck next time, gentlemen. Good tidings and all that.”

He stuffs the entire wad into his pocket and starts to leave, but before he can reach the door, a large hand drops onto his shoulder and spins him back around. “Wait a minute.”

“Hey. I won fair and square,” Fuyuhiko says, holding up his hands. “Nothing up my sleeves, see?”

“You little shit. Nobody fucking hustles me!”

“I’m just as surprised as you! Didn’t think I’d get this far. Beginner’s luck, maybe?”

The guy is big, wide around the shoulders, and at least a foot taller than him, probably more. Still, Fuyuhiko’s mouth runs faster than his brain can keep up.

“You know, if you spent more time actually minding your cards rather than scratching your ass, maybe you wouldn’t be nursing such a heavy loss.”

“Why you little—” The guy rears back and takes a swing at him, but he’s slow and he telegraphs it so much that it’s easy to duck under his giant fist. Fuyuhiko dances in and out of the goon’s reach until he gets bored and delivers a hardy swing, right to the guy’s throat. He doubles over, choking.

That’s pretty much all it takes to start it up. The scantily-clad waitresses scatter out of the room, shrieking. Another gambler goes at him, fists flying. Fuyuhiko twists out of the way and gives him a good punt in the gut, because why not. The guy falls onto the rickety card table and causes the whole thing to collapse. The last guy tries too, and when he overextends and stumbles forward, Fuyuhiko grabs the bottom of the guy’s coat, yanks it over his head, and shoves him into the nearest table, littered with used whiskey glasses.

The room’s a mess of splinters and bodies and scattered cards, but he got what he came for, so there’s no reason to stay. In one fluid motion, Fuyuhiko’s out the door and closing it behind him.

It’s not that he didn’t expect this type of response, only that it’d be a heck of a lot easier had it not come to it. While he speed-walks down the hall to the front door, he digs his phone of his pocket and punches in the first speed-dial.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m gonna need a quick ride outta here.”

“Of course you are,” Natsumi groans. “Thanks for the heads-up, by the way, bastard. Luckily I’ve got way more foresight than your sorry ass. She’s waiting outside, around the corner. I told her if you didn’t make it in five minutes you were probably dead, so move your ass.”

Natsumi hangs up.

Easy enough. Just out the door and he’ll be out of here in no time. But right when he turns the corner, he sees three hulking goons—three angry hulking goons—heading his way. One of them slowly pulls a pistol from his coat.

“Aw shit,” Fuyuhiko hisses under his breath. He spins on his heel and backtracks quickly. He can hear the guys pick up the pace behind him, so he does too, ducking into an open room and locking the door behind him.

“Just my luck,” he groans, hauling a bureau in front of the door for extra measure. They’re pounding on the door right now, and it won’t be long before they get past his half-assed barricade too. He scans the room quickly and makes for the window. There’s a balcony outside. He clamors onto it, making sure his clothes don’t catch on the frame, and looks over the railing.

By some miracle, Peko and her bodyguards are just down below, waiting by the running car. “Just my luck,” he repeats, smiling.

“Hey!” he yells over the rail. “Up here!” Peko looks up, and he grins down at her. “I’m coming down! Catch me, okay?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she says, but she doesn’t move from her spot. One of her bodyguards—Genji, he thinks his name is—offers to do the job, but Peko doesn’t listen.

He swings one leg over the rail, then the other. Behind him, he can hear the guys smashing the door open. He only takes a few seconds to orient himself before hopping right off, one hand slapped over his hat to keep it from flying away.

She catches him, like he fully expects her to, arms curling under his knees and back. It’s not a far drop, and she barely buckles under his weight. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, it’s just Peko holding him in her arms. He grins, wide and smug, and she wrinkles her nose at him.

“Aww, babydoll. Were you waiting around just to see me drop in?”

“I’m letting go,” she deadpans. She’s generous enough to give him a second to stand on his own two feet before she drops her hands—too fast, he thinks.

He’s not so generous though. He takes her by the hand, and her cheeks color beautifully. “C’mon! We gotta go.”

They duck into the car and speed off, just as the front door to the casino bursts open. The bunch of goons trip over each other stumbling out, spitting and hollering and waving their pistols. Fuyuhiko twists around in his seat and watches them grow smaller and smaller in the distance from the back window. There’s no way they’re shooting at this time of night, not in this neighborhood, and the car’s bulletproof anyway. Honestly, his cheeks are starting to ache from grinning so much.

“I wish you didn’t waste your time with those low-lives,” Peko sighs beside him, smoothing a hand over her hair. (He doesn’t know why she bothers. It’s always perfect.)

“Life’s full of risks, princess,” he says, winking at her. “It’s way more exciting when you up the stakes.” He pulls the wad of cash from his pocket and waves it in one hand. “And so lucrative, too.”

He manages to pull off one more cheeky grin before she shoves his face against the leather seat.

#kuzupeko #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #peko pekoyama #danganronpa #sdr2 #dr2 #this is very very quickly written #so sorry for any mistakes #thank u for the super cute fanart!!!!!#i hope you like this ficlet!!!!!!!!#gambler/yakuza au #anh's writing

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