21st Century Girl [Dio X Reader]

Chapter One

"I'm hungry," the words bubble out of Y/n's lips as she dodges around hurdles of people on the dark street. The nights in the city of 19th century London were fun at first. Seeing the bustling people, the carriages rolling down the cobblestone streets, and the bright stars that sparkle in the night sky in ways she had only dreamt of was mesmerizing.

Everything was so unlike how she used to live in the 21st century yet so similar. When she slipped back in time, she couldn't believe her eyes. It was like a dream for about two hours, and then she fell into a panic over not having money, a proper identity, or even a home. The only thing that gave her comfort was the fact that her body was definitely her own and that all her knowledge, especially about the 19th century, was still in tact. After a lot of petty theft and sleeping in alleys and along riverbanks, she was able to settle down in a tiny apartment with a reasonably stable job working in a bookstore. Only the rich and middle class bought books which meant it was in the better parts of town and the pay was good and crime was low. The only downside is that she has to power through a two hour jog in order to get from the slums where she lives to the store she works at everyday. Her only saving grace is that the way back home is down hill.

"Fuck." Y/n pants as she comes to a stop before her favorite tavern, wiping her sweat with one hand and holding her waist with the other. The restaurant she gets her meals each night has its windows darkened and the front door locked. She never has time to buy food at the markets nor does her shoebox of an apartment have a decent kitchen to cook anything with. Y/n catches her breath and looks around. Think. Starving is painful, but one shut store doesn't matter. "Let's just find somewhere else."

Calming herself, Y/n pinches her bag under her arm and turns down a street in the opposite direction of her home, diving into an unknown corner of town. A few men slink down the streets under the cover of night, likely going home from the bars after a long day of work. Y/n simply flows against the steadily growing tide before she finally catches the sound of drunken men. A smile pulls across her cheeks. Quickly, she lowers her hood and rushes into the bustling neighborhood.

Y/n typically avoids the areas where the factories and train stations are because of the high congestion of drunken men. But desperate times call for desperate measures and where there is beer, there are snacks. Rowdy men bustle by her in large groups, but Y/n pulls her cap low over her eyes, keeps her head down, and travels along the walls.

The first few stores she peers into are too rowdy for her and impossible for her not to get noticed, so she moves on. Hope starts to dull in her as she nears the last storefront with its light on. It's much quieter than the rest. A peak inside is enough to bring the smile back to her face. It's definitely a bar, but there are much fewer people inside and most of the occupants are sitting in groups of no more than two. A closer look reveals that the men are moving black and white pieces around on a checkered board— it's chess!

"You're in the way." A young man with blond hair stands behind Y/n, cold etched into his features. He must only be in his teens, but the look in his golden brown eyes says otherwise.

Not sparing her another glance, the man brushes past her, and doesn't utter another word. The tension that built in Y/n's legs and shoulders releases. "Sorry." With a quick step back, she grabs the door and opens it for the man before he reaches it. Since there are fewer women in the slums, especially at night, men would often make a scene once they got close enough to realize that she's a woman and not a young boy. But luckily, that isn't the case today. At ease, a faint smile rises to her lips. "Please, go in."

The man's cool gaze lingers on her for a second, but he passes through the door, quickly finding a seat with some man that's sitting alone. Y/n follows in soon after and orders a small meal of three steamed potatoes plus a piece of bread to add to the stash. She only gets one meal a day, so it's a godsend that the prices are at least reasonable.

She knows she can't keep living like how she is, but she needs enough money saved before she can move to a better neighborhood and have time to flirt with middle class men. After all, during this time period, the only way for a penniless woman like her to live well is to get with a rich husband. At first it didn't seem like the best idea, but she's tired of waking up at dawn and not getting home until midnight. Y/n wants to live easy and enjoy the simplicities of life in the past. Simplicities like her tasteless potato because no one in the slums can afford salt.

By the time Y/n finishes cleaning off her plate, her eyes naturally drift over to the young man she met at the door. He's been eating some dish while playing chess with the man across from him. Judging from the conversation that floats in the air, the pair that play typically make a bet and the loser has to pay up to the winner. If you have confidence in your skill, it's not a bad way to make some extra money.

"Check." The young man's voice resonates clearly in her ears. The pride in his face at his win brings a small chuckle to Y/n's lips. The losing man stands up in either anger or embarrassment at losing to a younger man, before finally throwing the young man's winnings on the table. The coins clink as they dance against the wood.

Good for him. Y/n rises up from her seat with her plate to return it to the man at the bar. He simply nods his head towards a pile at the end of the counter where Y/n neatly stacks her own. If they need a help washing dishes, I should find out the shifts they offer and how much they pay.

Y/n's thoughts are interrupted with a clank. She jumps slightly at the loud noise and turns to see what all the fuss is. The man that lost the chess game grabbed the young man by his blond locks and slammed his head into a half eaten plate of food. A small gasp slips through Y/n's lips. She's seen plenty of fights by now and has even been in a couple. Only, going from a life with a guaranteed three meals a day plus snacks to barely managing one meal per day embedded a new appreciation for food in her. Surely anyone that was starving would look at the scene and feel the same way.

"What a waste!"

TO BE CONTINUED...