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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

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Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2747

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all

A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)

He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.

You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character.

You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.

It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.

It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.

Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.

“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”

“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way a man like that had only one friend.”

“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”

“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”

You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-

“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”

Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”

“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”

“Do you think he lives near there?!”

“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’

You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”

Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”

Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”

You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Absolutely!”

“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.

“Not?!”

“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”

Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”

You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”

“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”

You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”

You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”

“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”

“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”

You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”

***************

Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.

It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.

It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.

“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.

“Where’s Jean?”

“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”

You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”

The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.

It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.

“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.

“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”

You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.

You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.

“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”

You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.

“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”

He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”

“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.

“Don’t come here often, then?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”

You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”

He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”

“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”

“Really?” You look at him in interest.

He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”

You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”

You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”

Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”

He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”

“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”

He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”

“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”

He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”

You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.

He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’

“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side.

“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.

“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”

You hum. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”

His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”

“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”

“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”

“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”

Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”

He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”

“I just met you ten minutes ago.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”

You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”

The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.

“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

You smirk. “So you do work here?”

“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.

“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”

You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”

“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”

You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke.

“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”

Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.

“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.

You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you.

You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.

And now that includes you.

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 3

Percy's POV

Confession time: I ditch Grover as soon as we get to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover is kinda freaking me out, looking at me like I am a dead man, muttering, "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be the sixth grade?"

Whenever he gets upset, Grover's bladder acts up, so I'm not surprised when, as soon as we get off the bus, he makes me promise to wait for him, then makes a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I get my suitcase, slip outside, and catch the first taxi uptown.

"East One-hundred-and-forth and First," I tell the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting mine and (Y/n)'s dad.

We didn't have any memories of him, just this warm sort of glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. Our mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad; she has no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told us he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom had told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me and my twin on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along...well, when I came home is a good example.

I walk into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN. Chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's Mom and (Y/n)?" I wonder aloud.

"Your mom's working," he says. "You got any cash?"

That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

"I don't have any cash," I toll him.

"Here," comes a voice, holding out a ten to the man.

Instantly, a smile sneaks its way onto my face.

"Hey, Perc," my twin sister says with a smile.

(Y/n)'s POV

I grab my brother's suitcase and carry it into his room; I set it down on the bed.

"You wanna come sit in my room?" I ask and Percy nods, a smile still on his face.

I lead the way to my room and when I open the door, Percy sinks into my desk chair.

"Percy?" comes our mom's voice.

She opens my bedroom door.

Our mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Percy or Gabe.

"Oh, Percy," she hugs her son tightly. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas.

Percy's POV

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.

We sit together on the edge of (Y/n)'s bed. While I attack the blueberry sour strings, (Y/n) stealing a few pieces of candy from the bag, Mom runs her hand through my hair and demands to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She doesn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right? The whole time, (Y/n)'s eyes were sparkling with amusement.

I tell Mom she is smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her and (Y/n).

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?"

I grit my teeth.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

For her sake, I try to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I tell her I'm not too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convince myself. I start choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly doesn't seem so bad.

Until that trip to the museum...

"What?" my mom asks. Her and my sister's eyes tug at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

"No, Mom."

I feel back for lying. I want to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I think it'd sound stupid.

Mom purses her lips. Both she and (Y/n) could tell I was holding back, but neither push me.

(Y/n)'s POV

"I have a surprise for both of you," Mom says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin."

"When?" I ask excitedly.

Mom smiles. "As soon as I get changed."

I can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in my doorway and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

"I've got it," I offer, rising from the bed and walking out into the kitchen to make the dip for Mom.

An hour later, we are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch me and Percy lug Mom's bags to the car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her cooking - and most importantly, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, you two," he warns us as I load the last bag. "Not one little scratch."

Like we'd be the ones driving. We're twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame us.

We get into the Camero, me in the passenger's seat, and Percy in the back.

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of the Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half-sunken into the dunes. There is always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

Percy and I love the place.

We'd been going there since Percy and I were babies. Our mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place she'd met mine and Percy's dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turning the color of the sea.

We arrive at the cabin, open all the cabin windows, and go through our usual cleaning routine. We walk on the beach, feed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and much on jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

I guess I should explain the blue food.

See, Gabe had once told Mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a small thing at the time. But ever since, Mom had gone out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - alone with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells us stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write when she gets enough money to quit the candy shop.

Finally, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what was always on our minds when we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure that she was going to tell us the same things she always said, but neither Percy and I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom says. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, two. You have his black hair, you know, Percy, and you both have his green eyes."

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy, (Y/n). He would be so proud."

Percy's POV

I wondered how she could say that. What's so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of the school for the sixth time in six years.

"How old were we?" I ask. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But...he knew us as a baby."

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting twins, but he never saw you two. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.

(Y/n) and I had always assumed that he had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, we'd always felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I realize I feel angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom. He'd left us, and now we are stuck with Smelly Gable.

"Are you sending me away again?" I ask her. "To another boarding school."

She pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey." Mom's voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. (Y/n) bows her head, looking at the ground and Mom's eyes well with tears.

Mom takes my hand and squeezes it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

Her words remind me of what Mr. Brunner had said - that it was best for me to leave Yancy.

"Because I'm not normal," I say.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe.

"Safe from what?"

She meets my eyes, and a flood of memories comes back to me - all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me and (Y/n), some of which we'd tried to forget.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked us on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed (Y/n) when she'd told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.

I know I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I can't make myself tell her. I have a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I don't want that.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom says. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just...I just can't stand to do it."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask, a little confused.

"Not a school," she says softly. "A summer camp."

My head starts spinning. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me and Percy be born - talk about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp.

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression that if either of us ask her any more questions, she would start to cry.

I have a weird, vivid dream. It is storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse, and a golden eagle are trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swoops down and slashes the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse rears up and kicks at the eagle's wings. As they fight, the ground rumbles and a monstrous voice chuckles somewhere and beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I run towards them, knowing I have to stop them from killing each other, but I am running in slow motion. I know I am too late. I see the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I scream, No!

I wake with a start.

Outside, it really is storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There is no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

With the next thunderclap, my mom and Percy wake. Mom sits up, eyes wide, and says, "Hurricane."

I know that's crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seems to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I hear a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that makes my hair stand on end.

Percy's POV

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice - someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.

My mother springs out of bed in her nightgown and throws open the lock.

Grover stands framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he isn't . . . he isn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasps. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looks at me in terror - not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy," she says, having to shout to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I am frozen, looking at Grover. I can't understand what I'm seeing, and I see (Y/n) looking at my friend.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yells. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I am too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I am too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover doesn't have pants on - and where his legs should be . . . where his legs should be . . .

Mom looks at me sternly and talks in a tone she'd never used before, and (Y/n) flinches: "Percy. Tell me now!"

I stammer something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stares at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabs her purse, tosses me and (Y/n) our rain jackets, and says, "Get the car. All three of you. Go!"

Grover runs for the Camero - but he isn't running, exactly. He is trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs makes sense to me. I understand how he can run so fast and still limp when he walks.

Because where his feet should be, there are no feet. There are cloven hooves.

Word Count: 3041 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #female reader #fem reader #reader insert

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perish-the-creator · 5 years

Text

In The Forest We Love

(This fic involves topics such as cheating and sex. The pairings involve are Mothdan with Mothzilla and Rodorah in the background. They are anthro in this version.)

Read at your own risk

(Further warning: Mothra is written with the ability to have male genitalia and implied Mpreg on Rodan’s part. This is due to my titan biology headcanons. And since they are just anthro those biology rules apply here as well.)

The air was nice; a gentle breeze carried the arrival of autumn. The fresh scent of a crackling fire as it hugged the wood was present as well. Above it, with a satisfied grin, Gojira placed his meaty palms on his hips before walking towards his wife. “See, I can start a fire without using my breath.” He chuckles just as he reaches into his pocket and pulled out a fat cigar.

“Good thing I bought you that huge pack for your birthday. Heaven knows what you’d do without those damn things.” Mothra laughs lightly from her spot on top of the wooden picnic table. She was more than excited for the next three nights out in the wilderness. It took forever to convince her citybound husband to come out here and enjoy nature.

“Why did you want a tent so badly?” Gojira complained as he pulled out the large cardboard box from the back of their black GMC truck. “We have beyond enough money to rent an RV. Or hell, even buy our own.”

“More fun this way,” Mothra giggles. “We’d have no choice but to cuddle if it gets cold.”

That statement was enough to make him shut his snout. Mothra had a way of making him do that. The small moment of silence was broken by the loud hum of a bright yellow convertible, with red streaks dancing across the sides like scars. The hood was lowered, showing off the four pairs of sunglasses that glimmered in the light. Behind them, a small storage trailer jolted to a stop.

Gojira gave a smirk with his cigar clenched tightly between his teeth as Mothra jumped off the table in excitement.

“You guys actually decided to come!” She sang happily as she and Rodan quickly embraced. To their mates, the hug was simply that of two longing friends, but unknown to them there was a much deeper layer beneath the gesture.

“I’m guessing your boy convinced you to come.” Gojira joked as he and Ghidorah gave a firm handshake.

“Guessed correctly,” Ichi responded. He walked toward the trunk of the car with Gojira following behind. The bulkier of the two whistled and rubbed his hands together.

“God ain’t this a beauty,” Gojira complimented as he lightly ran his hands over the yellow paint. “This one’s yours, right?”

“Yeah,” Kevin answers. “Rodan said we should get it out of the garage for once and let it get some fresh air.”

Gojira offered the three-headed man some cigars; one declines while two gladly take them.

Meanwhile, behind the cover of the large truck, Mothra and Rodan held each other and kissed passionately. Grabbing and clawing. When their mouths departed with a little trail of saliva connecting their tongues, Rodan chuckled a bit.

“I’m guessing you’re happy to see me.” He tells her. She smiles before using her lower set of arms to grab his butt and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m REALLY happy to see you.” They lean in for another kiss but soon scramble when they hear the sound of crunching leaves coming their way. Mothra quickly opens up the back door and dives in, pretending to have been looking for something. Rodan also leans slightly, appearing as though he too was in the search.

“What you looking for babe?” Gojira asked as he got next to Rodan. His palm slapped against the other’s shoulder playfully, yet Rodan stilled.

“Oh, just looking for something to carry any cool rocks we see out here.” She lied. Gojira smiled and pushed past them both, leaning further into the backseat. Surprisingly, he had brought an extra bag just for this occasion.

“I know you two like collecting rocks and flowers for some weird reason, but I am a good husband and I made sure to get you a bag to fit stuff in.” He hands her this fabric bag with the cover being a large purple flower. Both individuals thank him, happy now to have a great excuse for later on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And I explained to him that if he wants Toby to invest then he better go tag him where it hurts! But of course, that thick-skulled bastard didn’t listen!” Ichi shouted as Gojira nodded. Both men were successful businessmen despite how they choose to show themselves. Gojira often said that once you make a certain amount of money you no longer needed to really show that you were making it.

“Ever since our truce, I explained to you that you need to start hiring ex-convicts and military. No one else will hire them and they’ll work for almost nothing! All the people I overlook are lowlives and barely cause issues,” He sucks in his cigar before puffing out some air. “All in all, we just have to make sure our imports are more successful than that Destroyah bitch further north.”

“Business, business, business,” Mothra complains. “I wanted us to have this trip out here to get away from all that! Enjoy nature and life!”

“I agree,” Rodan spoke up, casually filling his plastic cup with the wine he and Ghidorah had packed. “I’m tired of hearing about money. Why worry so much?”

“Hippies,” Ni spits a bit. “Listen, I mean no disrespect but you two are basically getting a free ride thanks to us. Those lavish clothes and belongings wouldn’t be possible.” The others nod in agreement.

“Well damn, if that’s all you four are going to talk about, I’m going to go hiking and find some rocks before it gets too dark,” Mothra says sternly as she stands up from her seat. “You want to join me Rodan, or stay here and talk about lame business?” Rodan pretends to look hesitant but then nods.

“Sure! Maybe I’ll find that special mineral I’ve told you about!” He says with excitement, which causes the others to laugh.

“Alright dorks, go and have your fun.” Kevin jokes as the two roll their eyes at him. Gojira snorts before lowering his tone to be slightly more serious.

“If you two need help, just holler, okay?” The two regard him and gather up the small bag and a flashlight that Rodan clips to the side of his shorts. As they walk away, Gojira not discretely licks his lips. The three heads of Ghidorah notice and slightly frown at him. He shrugs and smirks. “Ey, they both got nice asses. How can I not look?”

“No fair,” Kevin snarled. “You’d try to beat our ass if we stared at your girl like that.”

Gojira shrugs again. “Maybe not. It’s been ten years. I’m over it, ya know?”

As Rodan and Mothra walk along the set trail, the sun ever so slightly getting closer to finally sleeping, the pterosaur holds back a yelp when he feels her hand again on his ass. He laughs and pauses in their walking. They had managed to create a decent amount of distance from the camp, the trail behind them only having the white rock road they had travel on with the trees drowning out and resemblance of their campground.

“Grabby today aren’t we?” He asked playfully, moving them so they are in embrace again. They kiss and hold each other.

If one hadn’t already guessed, the two were wrapped up in a long going affair. Neither had been really active with their immediate partners in a while.

The affair really only sprung from pent up sexual frustration and the lack of affection from their lovers. Just eight years ago, both men (Gojira and Ghidorah) were grasping at the ladder of wealth, struggling to take hold of a steady flow of money without the chains that would come with it. Many late nights at their offices. Many meetings. Many phone calls that would linger in their own home. Sex was limited. Fun was cut short. So, it was bound the other two would look for comfort. And they did.

Mothra had organized a small get together at her house for all the wives and husbands and lovers of the workers from the various offices that were consuming their mate’s lives. There was wine. There was crying. There was laughter too. At the end of it, only Rodan stayed to help clean up. When they bumping their arms into each other while washing the dishes it was then when the spark happened. And they’ve kept sparking for eight years.

Rodan moved his mouth back, panting for air as Mothra forced hers back on. Hands aimlessly fumbling for anything to grasp onto. A thought passes they some clothes might even be ripped.

“Baby,” Rodan quivered when Mothra started to lick and bite on his neck. “W..wait.”

“Hmm?” Mothra hummed.

“I...do you mind being top tonight?” Rodan shyly asked when he felt one of her four hands crawl up his tank top. Then there was a pause. “I mean...I just...if that’s....”

“Yeah,” Mothra smiled at his and kissed him again. Rodan gladly submitted and the two fumbled into the bush. The sounds of snapping branches and leaves with the added accident of singing birds and the cries of the cicadas blanketed their own noises.

Eventually, Rodan’s back was against a tree. He didn’t mind though as Mothra pressed against him. He wanted to get that button up off her as much as she wanted to destroy the red tank top on him. Clothes do eventually come off and are flung to the side like nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you still haven’t proposed?” Gojira was shocked, to say the least. After all the money and favors and gifts Ghidorah has given, it was a wonder that the guy still hadn’t asked Rodan to marry him.

“It’s just difficult,” Ichi began. “But it’s not like he seems bothered by it. He’s never really brought the topic up.”

“It would be nice,” Kevin admits with a boyish shyness. “I wouldn’t mind is he had our last name, you know? Really seal the deal and all that. Like you and Mothra.”

Gojira scratched under his chin for a moment and thinks. If he were honest, he had noticed some cracks in his marriage. Mothra was more energetic now and he finally had the mind to focus on her, yet something didn’t feel right. While her new childish nature was welcomed, it seemed almost like an act. Doubts sprinkled in his mind but he reminded himself that this woman had struck by his side when anyone with a right mind would’ve left.

“You could say that.” He finally replies.

“I’m not one to usually speak on it,” Ni adds. “But I can admit to having affection for Rodan. He’s very loving. Short of temper at times but that’s what makes him great. As far as we know he’s pretty loyal too. He doesn’t even comment on the attractive actors who come on screen.”

“Both our babes are great! Let’s say that. Heh, almost too great if you know what I mean,” Gojira takes a swig of his beer. The coming dusk glimmered off the bottle. “Wonder how far those two went by the way.”

“They’re fine. Probably chasing butterflies or asking a tree about how it feels.” Ichi quickly jokes. They all laugh before resuming their previous conversation regarding the usual; money.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rodan’s claws dragged down the tree as a long moan exited from his throat. His legs parted and chest pressed against the rough bark. Mothra behind him, one pair of hands grabbing his horns and the other clenching his waist tightly. Both shirts were long gone and their pants pooled around their ankles.

There was an added excitement in all of this. Screwing in the woods and the coming moonlight made everything just...hot. A thought goes through both brains of being caught by anyone; ranger, other campers, their mates, etc. And a part of the caution only fueled the fire that was already burning bright.

“M..mothra~” Rodan wailed as she retreated before returning within his depths. His claws penetrate the tree with the same passion as her.

“R..rodan~” Her voice is shaky, to say the least. They hadn’t really had legit sex in months with the closest things being rubs under the table during a dinner party. That being said, it had been so long since Mothra had been on top. Granted, she was always on top in the sense of power, yet being the one to penetrate had been a skilled she had failed to practice during their separation. There was a bit of anxiety involving it, worrying that perhaps she could not live up to the might of Ghidorah, whom she was very aware had not lacked his duties as a mate.

“W...we don’t have c..condoms do we?” Rodan asked just as she plunged deeper. A small chuckle came from her mouth.

“You ask now after I’m already in?” She laughs. “No, but I can pull out.”

“Nevermind then,” He instantly says. “Y..you can d...do it inside. I...have morning ..a...after pills. Hidden away in ..my..my bag.”

She pauses for a moment and Rodan wished he had kept his mouth shut.

“Why hidden?” She spoke with curiosity. Rodan sighed.

“Ghidorah wants a kid. I don’t. And I knew we’d be doing this tonight as well. But I knew he’d want to mate under the stars too. Not to mention I’m pretty close to my most fertile stage. Heh, he thinks he’s slick by poking holes in the condoms or regulating my birth control.” Rodan’s voice drifted slightly. Mothra could sense the hurt pulled out of him. Rodan moaned a little before facing her.

“With me though?” She started. “Would you want a kid with me?” Her eyes wander to his flatten stomach. Butterflies filled her own at the idea.

“I...I don’t know.” The mood has changed from sexy to saddening and made Rodan pull up his pants and put on his shirt. Mothra followed suit. They silently picked up a few rocks and even covered each other in bits of dirt and mud. At least it looked like they were messing around looking for rocks.

Upon returning, Gojira was humming to himself with a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. His shirt was gone and he held now shame to show off his belly. Ghidorah was locked on his personal copy of The Great Gatsby, each head interested in varying degrees.

“Welcome back,” Gojira said with a playful grin. The three heads looked up and grinned as well. Both of the returning creatures had no idea what to expect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mothra laid beside her husband, her naked form was hugging his own as her head rested on his heeving chest. She couldn’t sleep. No, she couldn’t possibly sleep at the tempting sounds of Rodan’s moans.

Whatever Ghidorah was doing was making spectacles. She didn’t recall the last time she heard him moan like that. Was Ghidorah just THAT good?

She tries to ignore it, remembering that as a married woman she technically shouldn’t be jealous by the main lover. They were just a fling, right? As she lays there on her husband she silently wishes Rodan was in his place. They never got to lay in bed together like this. In fact, they never had just pure passionate lovemaking as it was all rushed and hurried.

When she hears Rodan cry out Ghidorah’s name, something bubbles within her. She can’t do this anymore. She needs to change things and settle this.

Later that night, in the darkness of it all, Mothra sneaks to Rodan’s tent. She is surprised to see that the two bodies are apart from each other. Shrugging, she lightly shakes Rodan awake. He is discombobulated at first but soon is fully. Once outside the tent, she kisses him quick before taking his hand and leading him towards a small opening with sand as the patch.

She kisses him again, the moonlight shining a light on their affair. Then they meet eyes, and Rodan just nods. A knowing nod at that. Slowly, they disrobe themselves, standing nude among the living in the forest.

That night, they have their first true passionate lovemaking, directly under the stars and the moon. Just them and nature. The distractions of their mates float away. But something else happened that night that’ll rattle everything.

That night, Rodan fell pregnant.

#Rodan #mothra #godzilla #King Ghidorah #mothdan #mothra x rodan #mothzilla #rodorah #affair

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etlunainmorte · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

Once inside, V noticed that not only the lobby got to be lavished with such care and attention when it comes to decoration.

Nico’s unit was surprisingly neat and decorated in such a way that made Nero stare in disbelief and V look with wonder. Several paintings that depicted some popular stories of the Greek Mythology, like the sojourns of Heracles, the forbidden love of Aphrodite and Ares, and the abduction of Persephone, hung on the wall. There were fragile things around, like some painted vases, that would surely make anyone be mindful of their movements. There were even some old collections, like Homer, Alighieri, and even Lovecraft, on the shelves located on the beige - and - black - ensemble living room, small, but impressive, all the same. But, most importantly, there was a classic feel, and distinct scent, about the whole place that simply made V right at home.

“Looks like someone feels comfortable.” Nero said, but he was ignored as V practically strode directly towards the glass top table in the living room where a black violin case was left forgotten.

The markings on V’s skin vanished as Griffon and Shadow made their way out and made themselves comfortable like their master.

Nico came in, bringing in the delivery of pizza that just arrived a few minutes ago.

“Who knew someone like you could own a place like this?” Nero mocked the woman, pointing at the impossibly beautiful and cozy place. “Surely doesn’t sound like you.”

“Shut it, psycho!” Nico shot back, enjoying her banter with Nero and unceremoniously dropping the three boxes of pizza on the table near the violin case, startling V a bit. “And just to inform ya, I don’t own this fancy place.”

“Whoa, then who lives here?” Griffon, who has made himself comfortable on top of the shelves, joined in on the conversation. “Don’t tell me you stole it!”

“No, little chicken! Any questions?” Nico screamed at Griffon’s face, almost making the demonic bird fall off the shelves in fright. “I’m livin’ here for a while, and I will appreciate it if ya don’t make a mess, or else I’ll throw you out,… or cook you in a steel pot!” She collapsed on the comfortable black sofa beside Nero and crossed her legs. “Any more questions, huh, little chickee?”

She reached into her pocket for a cigar and immediately stopped, suddenly looking horrified. She shook her head and cursed under her breath.

“What’s wrong, given up with that nasty habit of yours?” Nero asked, already opening a box and digging in.

“No, it’s just that,…” Nico said, fidgeting with her fingers. “She doesn’t allow it here.”

“Who?” Nero said, mouth already full of the special loaded beef supreme.

Nico pointed at the violin case in V’s gentle hands ( in a space of a few seconds, nobody noticed the tattooed man as he picked it up ). “The one who owned that, and this place.”

The childish smile on V’s face disintegrated as he carefully out the violin case back down on the table. “Then, I guess I shall have to ask her first. Where is she?”

Nico shrugged. “Dunno. Said she’ll be back before sunset.”

“But, it’s already half past six.” Nero retorted, mouth full of his third helping of the beef supreme.

“Yeah, well, she’ll get by.” Nico answered, reaching into her pocket and producing a small piece of black envelope. “What we need to focus on right now is this.”

As Nico put the envelope down on the table, V sat at the sofa across her and Nero, eyeing the suspicious thing with furrowed eyebrows.

“This is an RSVP from a wealthy man who lives just a few blocks away from here.” Nico explained.

Nero chuckled, already picking up his fourth helping of the pizza. “Is that an invitation for a fancy party, or something?”

“See for yourself.”

Nero was about to pick the envelope with his oily, messy hands when V stealthily snatched it away with his gloved hand, immediately tearing it open. And before he could extract the actual invitation inside, he carefully glanced at Nico and Nero’s direction.

“If I may?” He said in a low voice, his smirk truly branding him as the mysterious man that they knew.

“Go ahead.” Nico conceded, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Thank you.” He said, finally extracting the small piece of paper inside and reading its contents aloud. “You who are brave enough to face the wrath of the Gods, come to this place this coming Saturday at exactly eight in the evening. It said nothing else,… except for the address,…” V’s eyes lazily went back to the note, scanning it and making sure that he would not miss even the tiniest bit of detail, then looked at them once more. “… and the dress code.”

“A riddle, huh?” Nero said. “Sure doesn’t sound like Devil May Cry business.”

“You’re wrong right there.” Nico muttered, having her first slice of pizza. “That exact invitation was sent to others within the country. Devil Hunters, to be exact. Hey, V, wanna eat?”

“I’m good, thank you.” V answered, outright politely refusing the offer.

“How did you even know that?” Nero asked.

Nico leaned in closer to Nero like she was going to tell a huge secret. “So, I have contact with the others, like Lady and Trish. It seems that they also received the invitation. They even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation.”

V listened in, absorbing every piece of information he could take.

“And, let me mention this - Dante also received one.”

All of a sudden, all three of them heard a yelping sound near the window. Griffom almost fell off the shelves while the two men stood up, drawing sword and cane, ready for battle.

“Someone’s listening!” Nero said, revving his Red Rose.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” V whispered, slamming his cane against his left palm several times, ready to give some beatings. “Best to make it at home - ”

“Guys, guys! Stop!” Nico practically shrieked, standing up between the men and the window where they heard the suspicious sound. “What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” Griffon flew off the shelves, almost ripping the cream curtains when the tattooed woman suddenly grabbed him by the beak and forcefully threw him across the room, making both Nero and V dodge the incoming projectile. Shadow, who was actually unfazed all throughout the ordeal, looked up as Griffon flew, involuntarily, from point A to point B, and went back to lounging on the carpeted floor near V, chin resting on sleek, black forelegs.

“To not make any?” Nero muttered, answering Nico’s question but still not willing to put his weapon down.

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,…” V said, pointing at the window using his cane as an extension of his arm. “… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you!” Nico breathed a sigh of relief as the men calmed down a bit. “Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, wrath of the Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded.�� V mentioned, still looking at the window suspiciously. “If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the wrath of the Gods,… after all.”

“That’s where I come in!” Nico crossed her arms and smiled proudly. “Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

Nero held up a blue metal arm which V shamefully did not take notice of before. “It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No!” Nico screamed, then turned towards V, and using the same tone she used on Nero, she spoke to him, making his eyes leave the window. “And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I'am.” And it was the plain truth.

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?” Nero asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!” Nico, despite her diminutive size, tried to push both Nero and V towards the door, making the two of them leave.

But, why?

Nero might be easily swayed by the woman, but V remained sharp. His eyes lingered for a second at the direction of the window when Nico snapped her fingers right in front of his eyes.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place!” Nico sassed. “Get moving!”

V sighed, getting annoyed by the woman. What was she hiding from them?

He called in Griffon and Shadow, who went to him without question, and followed Nero outside, hearing the woman close the door quickly as soon as they got out.

And as soon as the two were safely out, Nico hustled towards the place V was intently staring at, drew the heavy curtains, and revealed the wide - eyed girl who was just hiding at the balcony right behind the window pane. Nico opened the window and let the girl in.

“Are you crazy?!” She shouted at the girl. “Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

You just looked at Nico, (E/C) eyes still wide, chest still heaving.

“It’s him, Nico.” You said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

You grabbed Nico’s shoulders and gave them a mighty shake. “It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

It was Nico’s turn to have widened eyes. She looked behind her at the door the two men just walked out of, then looked back at you. “The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

Yes, you were very certain of it. “It. Is. HIM!”

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 4 #the fancy invitation #revised

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thedyingmoon · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

~ A V X Reader set in an Alternate Universe wherein V, Nero, and Nico get to eat pizza together. 🖤

~ I really wanted to dedicate this to everyone who liked the first four parts. Thank you so much! 🖤

~ And to @acieoj , I hope I'm not ruining your sleep again. 🖤

~ And also to @heaven-on-a-landslide , you're a very nice person. Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs. 🖤

~ Enjoy! 🖤

***

Once inside, V noticed that not only the lobby got to be lavished with such care and attention when it comes to decoration.

Nico's unit was surprisingly neat and decorated in such a way that made Nero stare in disbelief and V look with wonder. Several paintings that depicted some popular stories of the Greek Mythology, like the sojourns of Heracles, the forbidden love of Aphrodite and Ares, and the abduction of Persephone, hung on the wall. There were fragile things around, like some painted vases, that would surely make anyone be mindful of their movements. There were even some old collections, like Homer, Alighieri, and even Lovecraft, on the shelves located on the beige - and - black - ensemble living room, small, but impressive, all the same. But, most importantly, there was a classic feel, and distinct scent, about the whole place that simply made V right at home.

"Looks like someone feels comfortable." Nero said, but he was ignored as V practically strode directly towards the glass top table in the living room where a black violin case was left forgotten.

The markings on V's skin vanished as Griffon and Shadow made their way out and made themselves comfortable like their master.

Nico came in, bringing in the delivery of pizza that just arrived a few minutes ago.

"Who knew someone like you could own a place like this?" Nero mocked the woman, pointing at the impossibly beautiful and cozy place. "Surely doesn't sound like you."

"Shut it, psycho!" Nico shot back, enjoying her banter with Nero and unceremoniously dropping the three boxes of pizza on the table near the violin case, startling V a bit. "And just to inform ya, I don't own this fancy place."

"Whoa, then who lives here?" Griffon, who has made himself comfortable on top of the shelves, joined in on the conversation. "Don't tell me you stole it!"

"No, little chicken! Any questions?" Nico screamed at Griffon's face, almost making the demonic bird fall off the shelves in fright. "I'm livin' here for a while, and I will appreciate it if ya don't make a mess, or else I'll throw you out,... or cook you in a steel pot!" She collapsed on the comfortable black sofa beside Nero and crossed her legs. "Any more questions, huh, little chickee?"

She reached into her pocket for a cigar and immediately stopped, suddenly looking horrified. She shook her head and cursed under her breath.

"What's wrong, given up with that nasty habit of yours?" Nero asked, already opening a box and digging in.

"No, it's just that,..." Nico said, fidgeting with her fingers. "She doesn't allow it here."

"Who?" Nero said, mouth already full of the special loaded beef supreme.

Nico pointed at the violin case in V's gentle hands ( in a space of a few seconds, nobody noticed the tattooed man as he picked it up ). "The one who owned that, and this place."

The childish smile on V's face disintegrated as he carefully out the violin case back down on the table. "Then, I guess I shall have to ask her first. Where is she?"

Nico shrugged. "Dunno. Said she'll be back before sunset."

"But, it's already half past six." Nero retorted, mouth full of his third helping of the beef supreme.

"Yeah, well, she'll get by." Nico answered, reaching into her pocket and producing a small piece of black envelope. "What we need to focus on right now is this."

As Nico put the envelope down on the table, V sat at the sofa across her and Nero, eyeing the suspicious thing with furrowed eyebrows.

"This is an RSVP from a wealthy man who lives just a few blocks away from here." Nico explained.

Nero chuckled, already picking up his fourth helping of the pizza. "Is that an invitation for a fancy party, or something?"

"See for yourself."

"If I may?" He said in a low voice, his smirk truly branding him as the mysterious man that they knew.

"Go ahead." Nico conceded, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Thank you." He said, finally extracting the small piece of paper inside and reading its contents aloud. "You who are brave enough to face the wrath of the Gods, come to this place this coming Saturday at exactly eight in the evening. It said nothing else,... except for the address,..." V's eyes lazily went back to the note, scanning it and making sure that he would not miss even the tiniest bit of detail, then looked at them once more. "... and the dress code."

"A riddle, huh?" Nero said. "Sure doesn't sound like Devil May Cry business."

"You're wrong right there." Nico muttered, having her first slice of pizza. "That exact invitation was sent to others within the country. Devil Hunters, to be exact. Hey, V, wanna eat?"

"I'm good, thank you." V answered, outright politely refusing the offer.

"How did you even know that?" Nero asked.

Nico leaned in closer to Nero like she was going to tell a huge secret. "So, I have contact with the others, like Lady and Trish. It seems that they also received the invitation. They even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation."

V listened in, absorbing every piece of information he could take.

"And, let me mention this - Dante also received one."

All of a sudden, all three of them heard a yelping sound near the window. Griffom almost fell off the shelves while the two men stood up, drawing sword and cane, ready for battle.

"Someone's listening!" Nero said, revving his Red Rose.

"Looks like we have an,... unwanted visitor." V whispered, slamming his cane against his left palm several times, ready to give some beatings. "Best to make it at home - "

"Guys, guys! Stop!" Nico practically shrieked, standing up between the men and the window where they heard the suspicious sound. "What did I say about making a mess?!"

"Hey, hey! There's an intruder right - AHH!" Griffon flew off the shelves, almost ripping the cream curtains when the tattooed woman suddenly grabbed him by the beak and forcefully threw him across the room, making both Nero and V dodge the incoming projectile. Shadow, who was actually unfazed all throughout the ordeal, looked up as Griffon flew, involuntarily, from point A to point B, and went back to lounging on the carpeted floor near V, chin resting on sleek, black forelegs.

"To not make any?" Nero muttered, answering Nico's question but still not willing to put his weapon down.

"Exactly! That's just the - ah - neighbor's cat!"

"That,..." V said, pointing at the window using his cane as an extension of his arm. "... does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears."

"Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you!" Nico breathed a sigh of relief as the men calmed down a bit. "Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, wrath of the Gods, is!"

"We cannot go shorthanded." V mentioned, still looking at the window suspiciously. "If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,... we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the wrath of the Gods,... after all."

"That's where I come in!" Nico crossed her arms and smiled proudly. "Nero, how's the breaker coming along?"

Nero held up a blue metal arm which V shamefully did not take notice of before. "It's fine, sure."

"Oh, yeah? Then, I'll be making new ones."

"Isn't this enough?"

"No!" Nico screamed, then turned towards V, and using the same tone she used on Nero, she spoke to him, making his eyes leave the window. "And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?"

"As a matter of fact, I'am." And it was the plain truth.

"Then, go get your own formal wear! I can't provide you with one. I'm an artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!"

"Wait, like, right now?" Nero asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!" Nico, despite her diminutive size, tried to push both Nero and V towards the door, making the two of them leave.

But, why?

Nero might be easily swayed by the woman, but V remained sharp. His eyes lingered for a second at the direction of the window when Nico snapped her fingers right in front of his eyes.

"Hey, hey, if you're looking for some chicks, then you're in the wrong place!" Nico sassed. "Get moving!"

V sighed, getting annoyed by the woman. What was she hiding from them?

He called in Griffon and Shadow, who went to him without question, and followed Nero outside, hearing the woman close the door quickly as soon as they got out.

"Are you crazy?!" She shouted at the girl. "Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!"

You just looked at Nico, (E/C) eyes still wide, chest still heaving.

"It's him, Nico." You said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

You grabbed Nico's shoulders and gave them a mighty shake. "It's him! The man with the violin in my visions!"

"Who?!"

"The one with the markings on his skin!"

It was Nico's turn to have widened eyes. She looked behind her at the door the two men just walked out of, then looked back at you. "The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?"

Yes, you were very certain of it. "It. Is. HIM!"

***

🖤🖤🖤

#devil may cry 5 #v #amwriting #work in progress #v x reader #v x you #pizza #nero #nico #devil breaker #you #chapter 4 #i see my future before me

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grovestep · 5 years

Text

Ghostwatch: Chapter 2 [R76]

Title: Ghostwatch Chapter: 2 - Intermission Rating: M Ao3: Click here, remember to leave kudos! Summary: Gabe, Jack and Ana plan their next episode, and employ the help of everyone's favorite cowboy.

Gabriel sat on the couch at Jack’s apartment, feet propped up on the coffee table and his laptop balanced on his knees. He worked on editing the Poltergeist House video while Ana and Jack bickered over the idea for the next episode. They were committed to posting a video a week, despite having jobs and classes to attend to. Sometimes, Gabe felt ran absolutely thin, but he loved his work. Filming and editing were two of Gabe’s passions.

He was thankful that he met the blond man from Indiana in one of his film courses. The guy stuck out like a sore thumb. Gabriel had figured he was a football player getting a creative arts credit in, but was pleasantly surprised when he found Jack was majoring in theater. He wasn’t a prodigy by any means, but Jack had an air about him that just commanded the camera. Ana was one of Jack’s best friends. Gabe was skeptic about how a finance major could be passionate about film (perhaps he bought into just a fewstereotypes), but Ana had a talent for special effects makeup, and never failed to impress him when they needed something bloody. She was the official co-host, and while not being as a commanding a presence as Jack, she gave as good as she got, and played one hell of a ghost.

He drummed his fingers on the touchpad of the laptop as the video processed. He felt good about the shots he managed to get, though this episode was strenuous to cut, edit and censor. He really needed to watch his copious use of the F-bomb in the moment. It only lead to more work later. It didn’t help that there was a giant purple phallus on the wall (that was not there when they checked the house).

Gabe sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he looked over his shoulder at Jack and Ana. Jack was gesticulating wildly, talking about Mothman.

“Jack, honey,” Ana said, her voice slow and pointed, like talking to a child. Gabe smirked. He knew Jack was in for it. “Mothman is from Virginia. We are in Los Angeles.”

“So?” Jack huffed, crossing his arms. He may as well have pouted his lip.

“So, we’d get more flack than praise for a California Mothman,” Gabe said. “Let the Virginians have their bug dude. You’re not fitting this ass in spandex.”

“Fine, then what’s your idea, huh?” Jack challenged.

Gabe stroked his goatee in thought, setting the laptop onto the coffee table. He got up to look at the idea board Jack had on the wall. It was covered in pictures, post-it notes, and push pins. They’d covered plenty of hauntings, alien encounters, the occasional cryptid.

“I don’t want another episode where one of us is the monster just yet,” he said. He ran his fingers over the corkboard, stopping at one of the images tacked there. “How about werewolves?” He pulled down the picture of a hulking, hairy beast.

Ana laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Gabe, werewolves? How is that not one of us dressing up?”

“Hear me out, pendejo,” he huffed. “There’s been reports of bizarre animal attacks up in Big Bear. It could be a two-part episode. The viewers eat that shit up.”

Jack steepled his fingers, leaning forward on his elbows. “Go on,” he said, drawing out the ‘o’ sounds.

“So, we take a trip up there. It gives me a chance to get some shots of the scenery and take a break from heavy editing,” Gabe said, going to sit with them around the kitchen table. “We get some exposition. Plant some footsteps, or pawsteps, or whatever.” He waved his hand. “Really set the mood and shit. Then we end on a cliffhanger.”

Ana still looked skeptical, her brow knit in thought. “Okay, but who will be the werewolf in the second part? It would be odd if one of us disappeared after being there for the first half.”

“We can get Jesse to do it. He’d barely need any makeup,” Gabe said.

“McCree? The guy that talks and dresses like he’s in a John Wayne film?” Jack asked incredulously. He leaned forward farther, encroaching on Gabe’s personal space. “The guy who is still undeclared in our junior year?”

“Can you name a better werewolf, Jackie? Or are you volunteering?” Gabe asked, leaning forward to challenge Jack in his space.

Jack elevated his chin, keeping eye contact with Gabe. He grit his teeth. He knew that Gabe was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. The editor drove him up a wall and challenged him at every corner. Sometimes he just wanted to punch that sly smirk off his face.

Gabe was relentless. He wanted Jack to know that just because he was gorgeous (come on, anyone with eyes could see that) and the head of the trio, he didn’t get final say in everything. Gabriel had dealt with plenty of his kind. While he wasn’t a jock, he was still that type of person that thought he could bat his stupid blue eyes and get people to conform to his will.

Ana sighed, rolling her eyes. “Are you two done posturing?” she asked, waving a hand in front of her nose. “It reeks of testosterone in here.”

“Once Jack stops being a diva,” Gabe said. He crossed his arms, eyes never leaving the blond.

“Me? A diva?” Jack said, clutching a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt, really.”

Gabe reached out and flicked Jack’s nose, making him scrunch up his face. The tension dissolved as quick as it arose.

They bickered more than she and Jack did. They were both so passionate and sure of themselves, it was natural for those energies to clash every so often. Ana loved how they could have a heated argument, then reset like nothing happened. Even if they were to beat the hell out of each other, they’d end up laughing it off.

Jack grunted, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. Gabe took it as a victory. He poked his tongue out at Jack, who flipped him off.

“So, Jesse is our werewolf?” Ana asked.

“On one condition,” Jack said.

Gabe quirked an eyebrow. “Let me guess. So long as he dresses up as a werewolf and climbs into bed with you?”

Jack’s face reddened. “N-No! Why would you say something like that?” he stammered. “I was going to say so long as we can use his van to drive up there!”

Ana pulled a disgusted face. “Let me get this straight. You had an issue with Jesse coming, but you have no issue climbing into the back of his van. His van that smells like stale Pabst, cheap cigars, and In-n-Out?”

Jack put his hands up, the blush on his cheeks slowly dissipating, “Hey. If you want to use a ride service to get there, feel free. Sorry, Gabe, but your motorcycle and my shitty junker aren’t going to cut it.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t totaled your pickup,” Gabe grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Gabe said. “We leave for the forest this weekend, then.”

Getting Jesse on board was easy. Gabe showed up to his dorm room with a case of beer (carefully smuggled in) and a box of cigars. He knocked on the door. There was a clatter and a groan from the other side before the scruffy face of Jesse McCree peered out at him.

“Oh, hey Gabe,” he drawled. He was shirtless and clad in boxers, his cowboy hat casting his face in shadow. His eyes immediately landed on the six pack tucked under the editor’s arm. “Whatcha need this time?” he asked, opening the door to reveal his room.

It never failed to make Gabe balk. The man lived in chaos. There were clothes, beer cans, and fast food detritus everywhere. Jesse clicked his tongue, taking the beer from Gabe. “C’mon, now. You always look like yer about to implode every time ya stop by.”

“Jesse, there is a pair of underwear on the ceiling fan.”

“Oh, that there is,” Jesse said, snatching the boxers down and tossing them into the corner.

“What does your roommate think?”

“Who, Genji? Half this stuff is his,” Jesse said, kicking aside a pair of neon green boxers before plopping down on his bed. He pulled one of the cans from the plastic rings, cracking it open. He tipped the can toward Gabe. “So, what can I do for ya?”

“Well, uh…we need a werewolf for the shoot this weekend,” Gabe said, sitting beside Jesse, careful not to touch any of the stains on the sheets.

“Werewolf, huh?” Jesse stroked his beard, taking a long sip of the beer. “Dunno if a six pack a’ Blue Moon is gonna cut it.”

Gabe sighed, taking the pack of cigars out of his pocket. He threw them into Jesse’s lap. The cowboy beamed, turning the pack over in one hand. “You know me good, Reyes. You got yourselves a werewolf.”

“We also need your van.”

“Figured. Wasn’t no way Jack would have me along without my baby. How is Jackie boy doin’, anyhow?” Jesse asked, watching Gabe out of the corner of his eye.

Gabe flexed his jaw and crossed his arms. “He’s good. Still an asshole. Still stupidly good looking,” he said measuredly, unsure what Jesse was looking for.

“Sooo...you tapped that yet?”

Gabe thought he might actually combust. His face heated and he tugged his beanie down over his ears, hiding their red sheen. He glared at Jesse, who was smiling around the rim of his can.

“Fuck off,” Gabe snapped. “Jack is just an asshole friend who happens to be hot, like you.”

Jesse raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m flattered, doll. But if you don’t, I will.”

Gabe snorted, rolling his eyes, “Jack wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. It was hard enough convincing him to let you come.”

Jesse winked, crumpling the now empty can in one hand. “He just ain’t seen me lay on the charm.”

“Have at him, cowboy. I bet he shoots you down the first time you wink at him,” Gabe sneered.

“You got a bet,” Jesse said, punching Gabe in the arm. Gabe smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

—

The back of Jesse’s van smelled like bad decisions. The white panel van was painted with a desert mural on one side, while the other had “It’s High Noon” scrawled in towering font. The back of the van had shag carpeting that reeked, and the only seating was the front bench made of peeling red vinyl. Gabe was crammed in the back alongside Ana and their equipment. Jack was at the wheel, not trusting Jesse to get them there without a near-death experience. Jesse rode shotgun, not trusting Jack to drive his baby.

And, Gabe thought, to “lay on the charm.”

Jesse leaned close to Jack, talking in hushed tones. To Gabe’s surprise, Jack smiled and laughed.

“Gabe, you’re brooding,” Ana said, resting a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe grit his teeth, prying his eyes away from Jesse’s courting. He looked at Ana, who had one eyebrow cocked at him.

He rolled his eyes. “What? I brood. It’s what I do. When am I not brooding?”

“I can name a few instances,” she said.

Gabe held his tongue. He ran his hand across the dingy shag carpeting. He tried not to think of what was hiding in between the pieces of red fabric. He looked back at Ana. “He’s winning the bet.”

“What bet?”

Gabe cast a glance at the duo, making sure they were too busy to pay them any attention. “I bet Jesse that Jack would turn him down as soon as he even tried any of that charm shit.”

Ana rolled her eyes. “Never make a bet with that man, Gabe. He’s been gambling since he popped out of the womb.”

A sudden crooning came from the front seat. Jesse had his feet propped up on the dash, a cigar in his mouth and his head back. He belted out the lyrics to Hound Dog at the top of his lungs. Jack laughed along and tapped his fingers to the beat. Ana couldn’t help but laugh. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Shoot me, Gabriel mouthed. He fell back onto the carpet, the film equipment prodding into his back.

“Jack, you better stop at the next scenic pull-off before Gabe melts into the shag,” Ana said over Jesse’s raucous singing.

Jack gave a thumbs-up in the rearview mirror.

When they came to a halt, Gabriel threw open the back doors, almost throwing himself over the side of the cliff that overlooked LA. He scowled at Jesse as he loped over to the edge. Gabe briefly debated pushing the cowboy off.

He decided murder wasn’t something he was prepared to go to jail for and grabbed his camera from the back of the van instead. He toyed with some of the settings before turning it on and panning across the view. If they had had more time, he would have loved to do a timelapse.

Gabe shooed McCree out of the shots, since he was supposed to be their werewolf. He got a shot of Ana leaning over the rails, looking off into the distance while her hair blew in the wind. She turned toward the camera and smiled, as though she had been caught. It made Gabe grin from ear to ear.

He panned the camera to Jack. He looked like a Boy Scout troop leader. All blond hair and blue eyes and tanned skin. He sat on the rail with his legs dangled over the side. Gabe was afraid he might fall, but the blond man had a sure grip on the rail. He leaned back on his hands and tossed Gabe a look over his shoulder. It was a cocky grin, one he was used to when they were getting into trouble.

Ana pressed into Gabe’s side and craned her head to look at the digital image projected on the camera’s screen. She smiled and pinched his side. “Your turn,” she said as she took the camera from him. Gabe shot her a glare, but didn’t argue. He disliked being on camera, but couldn’t object to making a cameo in some B-roll shots.

He leaned against the rails beside Jack. He took out a cigarette and lit it up. The smoke wraithed around his face and obscured his features. He smirked at the camera as he flicked his ashes toward Jack, who laughed and took a jab at Gabe’s shoulder. Careful not to send Jack sailing over the side, he grabbed the back of Jack’s shirt and gave him a tug. Jack lost his balance and tumbled back onto the ground. He glared up at Gabe, who was taking another drag from his cig.

Jack grabbed Gabe’s ankles and yanked them out from under him. Gabe landed on his ass with a momentous thump.

“Smoking kills!” Jack said between gasps of laughter.

“Yea, and I’ll kill you after that!” Gabe said and flicked his cigarette to the side. He grappled with jack on the ground, getting him in a headlock. Jack bit his arm, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make Gabe wince. “Hey, that’s dirty!” he laughed, not relenting his grip.

“Like you fight clean,” Jack said through grit teeth.

“Tell me in the best editor ever and I’ll let you go,” Gabe said, unaffected by Jack’s squirming.

Jack huffed, his hands in Gabe’s arms in an attempt to pry them off. His eyes flicked up to Ana, who was still rolling. He bit the inside of his cheek and grumbled.

“What was that, Jackie?”

“You’re the best editor…” Jack said louder.

“Ever.”

“Ever,” Jack sighed and rolled his eyes.

Gabe released Jack, earning a punch to his arm. Jack rubbed his neck and laughed through his nose. Gabe gave him a shit-eating grin and flipped him off.

Jesse leaned against the van, one leg propped up while he puffed on his cigar. He watched the two tussle with an easy grin. Jesse had competition, whether Gabe realized it or not.

#r76 #reaper76 #morreyeson #overwatch #jack morrison #gabriel reyes #ana amari #Jesse McCree #Genji Shimada #overwatch fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #ghosts #cryptids #AU #alternate universe #ghost hunting AU #overwatch AU

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how-bout-a-crooked-politician · 6 years

Text

Surprise!

Elmer x Reader

Requested by anonymous

Summary: It’s your birthday, and you’ve been looking forward to spending it with your boyfriend Elmer. Which is difficult, as he seems to be avoiding you at all costs.

——

It was a beautiful day in New York on the day of your birthday, which most would take as a good sign. But that didn’t seem to be the case for you. You had made sure to get up early and sell your papes quicker then usual all so you could have extra time to spend with your boyfriend on your special day. At least that was the plan, except that you hadn’t seen Elmer all day. Elmer was almost always by your side as much as possible, so this was very out of the ordinary.

At the beginning of the day, there didn’t seem to be anything fishy going on. When you woke up early that morning, Elmer was already dressed to go out and sell. Elmer was usually the last one out of bed, but you didn’t think much of it. As soon as he saw you were up instead of waiting for the other boys, he ran out the door with a quick ‘goodbye’ and a kiss on the cheek.

You didn’t see Elmer at the distribution gates either, so you asked Weasel if he had come by. He (rather rudely) informed you that he had, but he only bought thirty papers. Way less then his normal hundred. You were of course a bit concerned about him, so you decided to ask Jack if he knew anything.

Jack was standing near one of the wagons huddled in a group talking with Davey and Crutchie. “Mornin’ Jack!” You called. Jack jumped and turned quickly to face you. “Mornin’ Y/N!” He said this rather loudly and glanced back towards Davey and Crutchie, who were giving you strange looks. “How’s it goin’? Happy Birthday!” You looked at him, then at Davey, then Crutchie, then back at Jack again. “Thanks.” You said. “You seen Elmer anywhere? I ain’t seen him hardly all morning.” Jack shook his head. “Nope, no sign of him. Right boys?”

Davey and Crutchie both nodded consecutively and agreed with Jack’s statement. “Don’t worry about it kid, he’s probably just trying to get a head start on selling today. Nothin’ wrong with that.” You nodded and crossed your arms. Maybe Jack was right, maybe you were reading too much into this. “Thanks Jack. Still, let me know if you see him alright?” Jack nodded and went back to Davey and Crutchie. “Yeah, yeah. Just get out there and sell your papes before you waste away, birthday kid.” You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Just because I’m getting older doesn’t mean I’m wasting away any time soon!” But Jack was already back to whispering to Davey and Crutchie. They looked like gossiping schoolgirls, very out of character for them. But you had papers to sell, so you brushed it off and hit the streets to start selling for the day.

At lunch you decided to go visit Elmer at his usual selling spot, only to find Racetrack on his corner instead. “Hey, Racer!” Race turned to look at you and almost dropped the cigar from his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him as you approached. “What, you that surprised to see me?” You said. Race quickly regained himself and put back on that cocky demeanor of his, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you at Elmer’s spot more then I’ve seen you at your own.” He said as he continued to hark the headline. You stepped out of his way so he had a clear view of the street. “Speaking of Elmer, you seen him anywhere? I’ve been trying to track him down all day.” Race barely glanced over at you to answer. “You check the church?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. “The only reason Elmer would step foot in the church is to get out of the rain.” You said.

Race seemed to go pale for a split second and turned to face you, as if he had said the wrong thing. “Oh, right.” He said. “Well, you check his selling spot?” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “Race, you’re in his selling spot.” You said. Now you were fairly certain something was up. “What the hell’s going on?” Race quickly shook his head. “Nothing! Nothing at all is going on, what makes you think something’s going on?” You huffed and turned to walk away. “You boys acting like I’ve lost my mind, that’s what!” As you stomped away you only heard Race call your name once, then went back to selling as if everything was normal.

Even after you were done selling your suspicions followed you when Albert refused to let you in the Lodging House. “Albert, I live here!” You argued. “What possible reason could be keeping me away from the place I pay to sleep at?” Albert shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m telling you, the sink flooded. No one’s allowed inside.” You put your hands on your hips and glared at the boy. “I can hear the rest of the boys inside!” You said. Albert shook his head. “Those are the plumbers!” At that moment, JoJo opened the door behind Albert and stuck his head out. “Hey Albo, where’d you leave my-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of you. “Oh.”

At this point, you’d had enough of your friends’ nonsense. “That’s it! Let me inside right now, Albert.” You marched up to the door and tried to push your way past him, but JoJo’s words stopped you. “Elmer’s over at the theater waiting for you!” He said. You stopped. “What? Why? At Medda’s Theater?” Albert looked back at JoJo with a glare. “Good job, knucklehead.” He said. “Hey, they were going to figure it out sooner or later!” JoJo countered. You stoppped their arguing before it could go any further. “Figure what out?” You asked.

Albert sighed motioned in the direction of Medda’s theater. “Just go, you’ll see what we mean. Just don’t tell Elmer we told you!” You stepped back and quickly began walking to the theater. Finally, you were going to spend time with your boyfriend on your birthday just like you wanted! After asking him what the hell was going on, of course. You thanked Albert and JoJo again before taking off down the street.

You came into the theater through the backstage, and a show seemed to be starting soon. Still, you didn’t see any sign of Elmer. Luckily you were able to catch Medda before she went on stage. “Miss Medda!” You whispered, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned around and her face lit up when she saw you. “Y/N!” She exclaimed. “You know Elmer’s been looking forward to seeing you all day! He’s such a sweet boy, you’re lucky to have him.” You’re cheeks turned a nice shade of pink, but you quickly got back on your feet. “Where is Elmer, Miss Medda?” You asked.

Medda pointed to the balcony in her audience. “Box Number Three.” She said. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “But that’s a private box, how did he-“ “Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Have fun, alright!” Then Medda went on stage to begin her act.

You went to the balcony to the third viewing box. You weren’t sure what to expect now. You tried the door, but it was locked. You gave a soft knock so you wouldn’t interrupt the show. “I know, I’m late! I’m going to pick them up now, don’t give away my box please!” Elmer’s voice from inside sounded almost panicked. “Elmer? It’s me, can I come in?” There was a pause from inside. Then finally the door opened.

In the doorway was your boyfriend, Elmer. He had his hair combed and his face clean of dirt. He had a bandanna around his neck that he had tied into a bow tie, and the usual holes in his shirt had been sewn up. You were speechless. “Elmer-“ “I’m so sorry Y/N! I was going to pick you up but then I got nervous so I started running late, and then I ran into the Delanceys and they were giving me a hard time cause of-“

“Elmer-“

“Race told me about how upset you were earlier and I felt like such a jerk-“

“Elmer-“

“And then I realized I left all my notes in the Lodging House so I had to make sure Albert didn’t let you in to ruin the surprise-“

“Elmer-“

“I tried real hard to find an actual bow tie, but all I could find was one of Jack’s old bandannas-“

“Elmer, stop!” You said. Elmer quickly shut his mouth and his eyes widened. But he seemed more at ease when you grew a smile on your face. “You look absolutely dashing.” You said. “But what’s all this about?”

Elmer took your hand and led you inside the door. “It’s your birthday, duh!” He said. All the seats in the box were empty and you had a great view of the stage. The smile on your face grew even more. “Elmer, this is amazing!” You said, turning back to him. “How did you afford this?” He shrugged and took your hands in his. “Jack pulled some strings.” He answered. “Now come on, we’re missing the show!”

Elmer led you to the front seats of the box and the two of you watched Medda sing one of your favorite songs of hers. You wondered if this was also the work of Elmer, or just a coincidence. You looked down at you and Elmer’s intertwined hands. “You know, for a minute there I thought...” He quickly looked over at you. “You thought what?” He asked, worried. You sighed. “I don’t know, that you didn’t like me anymore or something.” Elmer’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No! No, I didn’t mean to make ya think that!” He said. “I was just trying to make everything perfect for your birthday!” You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “And it is!” You said. “To be fair though, the other boys were acting real strange.” Elmer huffed and shrugged. “Yeah, maybe I should have picked a better party planning comitee.”

After another song went by, Elmer jumped up in his seat. “Oh! I almost forgot your present!” Elmer stood up and began looking behind his seat for your gift. “Elmer, you didn’t need to get me anything.” You said. Elmer scoffed. “Of course I did! It’s your birthday isn’t it? Now close your eyes.” You giggled at how cliche this must be and put your hands over your eyes. You felt Elmer set something in your lap. “Okay, now open them.”

You opened your eyes and in your lap sat a canvas with a painting of you and Elmer holding hands on the street corner where you met. You gasped. “Elmer, did you paint this?” You asked, picking up the picture to look more closely at it. Elmer began fidgeting with his hands and looked at the ground. “Do you like it?” He asked. “Jack helped me out with it. I know I ain’t as good as him yet, but I did my best.”

He looked back up at you and saw the wide smile on your face. “Elmer, it’s absolutely beautiful!” You set the painting down and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you so much.” Elmer hugged you back, only pulling away to plant a kiss on your lips. “I’m happy you liked it, because if you didn’t I was just going to say that Jack actually painted it.” You laughed and shook your head, pulling him in for another kiss. “You’re such a dork.” You laughed. “I love it, Elmer. You’ve made this the best birthday ever.”

And you meant it. As the two of you finished watching the show tangled in each other’s arms, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend your birthday. And when the show was over and Elmer found you fast asleep, he knew that. As he carried you back to the Lodging House in his arms and laid you back in your bed, he didn’t care about the mishaps of the day anymore. He only seemed to remember the part of the day that he spent with you.

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