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enigmatist17 · 6 months ago

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Entropy (Part 2)

Part 1 3

---

Willow isn't sure why everyone is so angry, honest!

She had spent months carefully preparing for a spell to raise her best friend back from the dead, gathering extremely hard-to-find ingredients and picking the perfect night to do the spell. So it had been the day Giles, who had become suspicious of her constant presence at the Magic Box as of late, was gone, big whoop!

Buffy was back, and just in time, too. They had been able to create the illusion of Buffy keeping up her Slayer act with the robot that had tried to kill Buffy when she'd come to town, but eventually a roving band of demons had discovered the truth. Willow had been mid-spell when the demons came, but she didn't stop until she had completed the spell, being dragged away after the jar she'd needed had shattered.

For a while, she thought she may have failed, but that was before Buffy showed up to save the day. Sure, she didn't really say anything as she attacked the demons trying to destroy Sunnydale and ran off after the last of them were dead, but she was alive! Anya had found Buffy cowering in the magic shop's basement and had the gall to lock the door in front of us!

Giles, in particular, had been the most ungrateful.

---

Giles entered the house he was so very fond of quietly, the front door closing with a click as the talking in the kitchen stopped. It's not long before an excited and smiling Willow bounds the corner, running over and hugging Giles tight.

"Oh, Giles, did you hear? I brought Buffy back!" She beams at the news, missing how his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. "S-She's not here, but you're welcome to wait! We have pizza and everything, and I'm sure there's some tea in here somewhere."

"Willow." The witch pulls back from her hug at the tone of his voice, finally recognizing that he wasn't smiling.

"Is something wrong?" The Watcher took a small step back when Willow's arms fell to her side, looking at Willow as if she was a stranger he'd never met before. "Giles?"

"You stupid, foolish girl." There is an iron edge to every word as her eyes go wide, steely blue eyes boring into her own. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Excuse me?!" Willow is vaguely aware of Xander and Tara moving to join the conversation, and is glad Dawn was out so she wasn't here for all of this. "I brought Buffy back from the dead, you should be happy!"

"You did so by meddling with forces that I'm not even thick enough to deal with." Ethan seemed to emerge from behind Giles from thin air, the warlock serious for the first time any of them could remember. "Knew someone was stealing from my stocks."

"Borrowing to do something amazing." Willow scoffed, crossing her arms with a glare. "You should be ecstatic that she's back, I brought Buffy back into this world."

"Having Buffy back in this world makes me feel indescribably wonderful, but I wouldn't congratulate you if you jumped off a cliff and happened to survive." The Watcher was failing to keep his voice level, not feeling one iota of guilt as he climbed from shouting to yelling. Xander and Tara nervously shared a glance as Ethan moved rooms, having grabbed Giles' buzzing phone during his rant.

"That's not what I did, Giles."

"You were lucky." He took a step forward as he held Willow's gaze, and to her credit, the witch did not back down.

"I was amazing, and how do you even know? You weren't even here!"

"That magics you channeled are more ferocious and primal than anything you can hope to understand, and you are lucky to be alive, you rank, arrogant amateur!"

"I'm a very powerful witch, and maybe it's not such a good idea to piss me off!" Willow shouted, the air in the room almost crackling as she pointed a finger at the Watcher. "You don't get to come here and lecture me, not when I did the impossible. I don't want to fight, so maybe you and your warlock should leave and cool off." Giles just stared at her before shaking his head.

"This is not over, mark my words, Rosenburg." Willow flinched at the use of her last name and watched a man she considered to be a father figure stalk out of the house without another word, slamming the door behind him.

---

Now Angel was here, vamped out and very pissed judging by how yellow his eyes were.

"We need to have a talk."

"Since when did you roll into town Deadboy?" Xander was the first to speak after Ethan and Giles trailed in after the vampire, hanging back to allow the vampire to take center stage. "Because none of us called you."

"You didn't have to." Angel snarled, crossing his arms as the trio across from him huddled a little closer together in discomfort. "Did any of you even notice Dawn had left town?"

"W-What?" Tara looked at the floor to avoid Angel's gaze, clearly guilty at the news. "She told me s-she was at a friend's house, and I-I wanted to spare her from seeing the ritual..."

"You didn't once think to check in on her?" Angel was unfamiliar with the woman who wouldn't look up, clearly disappointed.

"Tara was helping me with the spell." Willow swallowed, his amber eyes snapping over to focus on her. "We had no idea she was gone, honest!"

"You're very lucky she arrived unharmed, otherwise I would be a lot angrier." Angel scowled, taking in a deep breath before exhaling with a low growl. "I thought you were all supposed to be better than this, that's what I kept hearing when I was in town."

"I don't understand why you're all so angry, I brought Buffy back to us, probably saving her from some sort of hell dimension!" Willow huffed.

"You don't know that." The vampire sounded weary now, watching the witch slowly step away from him to sit on the couch, Tara and Xander flanking either side as they joined her.

They didn't want to be alone with Angel so close by.

"Buffy is alive; you should just be happy." This is the first time Willow shows the mourning friend who had been buried under the frenzied need to fix everything, the redhead hugging herself with a pitiful expression. "I couldn't lose my friend."

"It wasn't your choice to make." The words are painful for all to hear, but they had to be said.

"Is she okay?" Xander looked up from his hands, unsure of what else to say.

"I don't know, but Spike will take care of her."

"Spike is back?!" Willow jumped to her feet as Xander stared in shock. "When did he get back? W-Where has he been?"

"He's been in L.A." Angel finally shifted his face back to its human visage, but he was still scowling as Willow shrank back a little. "We'll both be staying for a little while, which brings me to another part of why I'm here."

"Which is?" Willow eyed him nervously, the vampire muttering something before running his hand through his hair.

"I know you and Tara live here, but Spike, Dawn, and Buffy need a place they both find safe. I'm not asking you to leave permanently, but they need their space and their home." Willow looked a bit aghast at the request but stayed quiet when Tara took her hand with a light squeeze.

"They can crash with me. It'll be a squeeze, but we can manage." Xander shrugged, unsurprised that the conversation had turned to the topic. "A buddy of mine is out of town for the next couple of months, and with Anya and I not on speaking terms right now, su case is me casa for now."

"Good, good." Angel glanced back at Giles and Ethan before turning back to the Scoobies. "Take the next day or two, just call me when you're done."

"Angel..." Willow bit her lip before meeting his gaze full-on. "Do you think I messed up? Bringing Buffy back?" Angel doesn't reply for a long time, just holding the witch's gaze without blinking.

"We'll have to see, that's for Buffy to decide."

---

Spike is talking.

It's the first thing Buffy registers when she slowly begins to wake up, feeling refreshed at being able to actually sleep. She wasn't on the couch, it seemed, the familiar sheets of Giles' bed meeting her gaze when she opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch with Spike, said vampire currently curled up on the far side of the bed with his legs being hugged to his chest. Buffy wants to say something, but pauses when she realizes those normally bright eyes are glossed over and staring at nothing in particular.

"William doesn't deserve to be so close, doesn't deserve to touch her hair like the sun, doesn't deserve to hold her. Hands are too bloody, she needs clean hands, not the hands of a monster. But she touched us, touched our dirty face, didn't throw us down even though we are beneath her, smiled and held us." Spike stopped muttering long enough to tug at his hair, slightly rocking back and forth as Buffy watched in silence. "Let the girl sleep, let her dream of the sun, not of the dirt and the earth and grass, deserves better-"

"Spike?" Blue eyes flicker over, and her heart aches at the fear swirling within them.

She doesn't like that look.

"Did I wake the girl?" He's barely speaking above a whisper as he watches her slowly sit up. "She should rest."

"Are you okay?" The vampire doesn't move when she shuffles closer, those blue eyes just following her every move. When she's stopped moving he slowly reaches out with one hand to cup the side of her face, thumb resting below her right eye.

"You deserve the world, something better." His voice wavers as he soaks in her natural body heat, something he never thought he'd feel again. "Maybe I can be part of that, to see the sunshine smile brighter than creation, to hold her hands that can tear the earth asunder."

"Spike..." Buffy wants nothing more than to melt into his arms, to kiss away the fear and tears contained in those eyes she'd spent days memorizing. Yet something is holding her back, and she wonders if it has to do with why there was something else in those eyes she'd never seen before. "Why did you leave?"

"To honor you." The vampire whispers his response as he moves, shifting onto his knees so he can give her his full attention. "Give you and Dawn what you deserve, to be a man, a better man...but Angel should have warned me. He makes a show of forgetting, but it's here, in me...all the time....the Spark."

The world fell away as Buffy stared at the man before her.

"Your soul." Tears began to fall as Buffy looked at Spike in almost a daze, everything clicking as she looked at that new light in his eyes, where it had only been darkness before.

"A bit worse from lack of use," Spike's lips twitched in a sad smile, and he used the one hand still cradling her face to wipe away as many tears as he could. He pulls away when she moves to rest her hand over his, hugging himself instead. "I wasn't ready to come back, everyone i-is still in 'ere, talking...everything I did, everything I-" Neither has to ask what else he wants to say, so the vampire stares resolutely at the bed, her quiet sniffles joining the chorus of voices that murmured in the background of his mind. He's not expecting Buffy to wrap her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder as she cried, though for what he could not answer, so he slips his arms free to hold her close. After what felt like an eternity, she drew back, emerald eyes staring into turquoise before she captured his lips in a kiss, pouring every bit of the love she felt for him into it. She can feel Spike tense for a moment before surrendering himself completely, finally able to understand what she was giving him with so much clarity it could have stolen his breath away if he was human. Neither of them want to stop, Buffy eventually drawing back to give Spike a smile as she keeps close in his arms.

"You're going to stay, right?"

Please say yes

"Till the end of the world."

I'll always say yes

#buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #angel #angel btvs #spike #spike btvs #william the bloody #buffy summers #anya jenkins #dawn summers #ethan rayne #rupert giles #tara maclay #xander harris #willow rosenberg #spuffy #ethan x rupert #personal #fix it fic

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steriotypicaloutlaw · 1 year ago

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Why do I have the urge to do the Barbie and Ken meme with some of my ships?? Should I do it? I still have to make the Jacob Custos Fuckboi emoji for my discord server...

#buddyshipping #dan x chris #dan vs.#climbing class #josh x chris #until dawn #wintersberg #karl x ethan #resident evil #ada x leon #jacob custos #the quarry

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cjcroen1393 · 2 years ago

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Hello everyone! I decided that since Scarlet and Violet is out, I might as well update my Pokemon protagonist LGBTQ+ headcanons! Remember, these are just my headcanons for the player characters I used, so please don’t start discourse if you disagree on certain interpretations (Why did no one tell me that I didn’t finish the description!?)

Main updates:

- Used official art this time!

- Double flags where applicable!

- Decided to make Ethan trans. I was hesitant but then I remembered I made Dawn a lesbian, Nora aromantic and Florian nonbinary and I’m none of those things so I might as well amirite?

- Is there a “Questioning” flag? I assume there isn’t.

- Additional main series protagonists below (since Tumblr doesn’t allow more than ten images); I edited Chase’s picture because I played Let’s Go Eevee lol:

Chase - Pansexual

Lucas - Asexual, heteroromantic

I updated the rivals too, so we’ll be seeing them soon as well (but as usual, because there’s so many of them, they’ll be split into sections)

EDIT: Used the actual AroAce flag for Nora now.

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venus-flytraps · 1 year ago

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Does anyone remember Far Cry New Dawn? Because now I'm here. :D

My OC! Security Captain. Yep.

I think Ethan was badly written in the plot. So... This is my Ay, where he survived after the ending. And Cap took him with her. Although there were a couple of spots on the body.

And... I'll ship them. Forgive me.

#Far cry #Far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #Ethan Seed #The Judge #The Security Captain #Cap x Ethan #venus draw

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iobsessoverfictionalmen · 2 years ago

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The One Where Ethan Rayne Returns

Part 2

AN: This four-part fic will contain spoilers for Seasons 1-6 of Buffy as well as canon typical behaviours, fighting, and references to violence.

“You know I forgot just how much I hate that guy,” Xander remarked after Ethan had left.

“He delights in messing with your mind and sowing chaos wherever he goes,” Rupert replied, walking back over to the counter. You had a feeling that he was going to create a protection spell around the Magic Box just in case.

“Do you think he was lying then? About wanting to warn us? What if he were really here to meet Willow because of what she did?” Dawn inquired rapidly.

“With Ethan you can never be too sure what he’s planning. He’s as sneaky as a fox.”

“What if we could?” Willow mused eagerly after Giles had finished talking, “What if we tracked him down and cast a truth spell on him?”

“No Willow! That would be too dangerous.” Your voice trembled as you considered the many things that could go wrong with that plan.

“I-I-I’d be careful though. I can be sneaky.” The young witch protested.

You rubbed your hand over your forehead, “Willow, Ethan has years of many more years of experience wielding magic than you do. Not to mention that the magic he uses borders on dark almost chaotic magic and he frequently associates with demons who are unpredictable at best. His knowledge of magic and his association with demons would give him a considerable advantage over you. He’d probably be able to sense you coming.”

“That’s true,” Spike agreed.

“Though some demons have been known to help humans they care about.” Xander added, throwing you a pointed look.

Getting the hint you nodded, “Xander’s right. Anya, you’re doing a fantastic job managing the Magic Box and I’m happy to call you my friend.”

“I manage the Magic Box because I enjoy money.” Anya stated. “But I do enjoy living here with friends and having sex with Xander. I just wish you didn’t have so many bunnies. They’re evil.”

“But what about Ethan’s warning?” Shouldn’t we look into that? I mean he had to have known the reception he’d receive if he came back here and yet he did it anyway. What if it’s really important?” Willow argued.

“He only revealed that he came to warn Rupert after Rupert had shoved and punched him.” Qui-Gon reminded her.

Rupert bristled at the concealed distaste in Qui-Gon’s voice, “When it comes to Ethan, it’s better to hit first and ask questions later,” he said stiffly.

#my writing #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy x star wars crossover #reader insert #rupert giles #qui-gon jinn #rupert giles x reader x qui gon jinn #rupert giles x reader #qui-gon jinn x reader #xander harris #buffy summers #dawn summers #willow rosenberg #tara maclay #anya jenkins #ethan rayne #spike

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rookthewrathful · 2 years ago

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Far Cry 5 fans, what does this mean?

In the Far Cry 6 DLC, Joseph sees a vision of his death in New Dawn.... Like exactly, under the tree. Joseph asks 'is this how I die?' and The Voice answers

'If you continue to disobey me' or something to that effect.

So..... Does that mean that Joseph makes the wrong choice in New Dawn? What could he have done differently at that point?

Only two things, kill the deputy and or kill Ethan.

The Voice wants the Deputy alive to 'soften Joseph's heart's (an actual quote ❤️) so then was Joseph supposed to kill Ethan? When? Obviously his love for Ethan was why he wanted to die when Ethan died, because at that point, he was the only blood family Joseph had left. So was the only way to prevent this 'probable' death to kill Ethan instantly, when he first showed up?

When Joseph is holding Ethan's body in the DLC, he morphs into Joseph's daughter as he's describing how he killed her. (I think, I only played this part once so far).... Was Joseph supposed to understand that Ethan needed to die right away, because he was going to die anyway? The Voice would literally ONLY allow him to have The Judge as family?

Also I love that the Judge is banging on the door to all the safe houses, which are Joseph's place of rest, where he can reflect on himself..... Like his heart.

Man I am really loving this DLC, I'm glad I finally got the guts to play it. I delayed for so long because I get so annoyed by the concept of losing progress. But I'm doing alright now lol

#far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #ethan seed #the judge #the deputy #deputy rook #joseph seed x deputy #joseph seed #joseph x deputy #oh my heart #lmaoooooo #i love spending quality time with ol' Joe #it makes me happy

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sayoneee · 9 months ago

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☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.

kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!

TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to.

“so, my mom’s a god? of love?”

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.

“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.”

the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).

they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”

“oh.”

the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn).

needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.

you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories).

you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”

you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.

with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).

in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.

“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.

percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.

instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?

“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”

percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.

“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.

percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.

it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers.

even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark.

standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.”

drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).

the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).

percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother.

“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.

barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.

“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.

percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”

you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”

percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).

“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders.

“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”

distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.

“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”

percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”

you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”

“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.”

gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat.

you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”

“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.

“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you.

“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you.

“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).

“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”

percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”

you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”

percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.

blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin.

he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace.

the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.

the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.

you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”

your half-siblings only giggle harder.

after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”

you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”

(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)

the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”

sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.

“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.

“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.

you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”

the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers.

stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye.

“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie.

“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy.

“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”

you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in.

“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”

clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”

you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.

the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face.

a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”

you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him.

“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”

“yeah, why?”

to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.

you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”

“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.

your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“we could be dating, for real,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word.

the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.

“i need you to be so for real right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m being so deadass right now.”

“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.

when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).

he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.

“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.

“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”

“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”

“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).

“not the point.”

“then what is?”

“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.

your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.

“why not?”

“why?”

“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks.

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.

you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.

the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.

“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).

a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”

drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.”

the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”

you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”

“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.”

“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”

drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”

(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)

“the curse,” you say, your throat tight.

drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.

you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).

she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”

“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”

“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says.

“i can’t,” you mumble.

“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”

“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”

“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”

you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later.

at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”

“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.

“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.

you sigh, letting her continue.

“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”

“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”

drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”

you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”

“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”

you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)

“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”

you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”

“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.

“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”

“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.

you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”

“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”

“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”

you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.

“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.

drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it.

you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.

drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.

lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”

you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”

more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”

you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”

she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.

drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”

you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”

lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”

that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”

it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.

you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you).

as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again.

percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace.

“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin.

percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once.

“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”

“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”

his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife.

“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.

percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.

“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.

“i never meant it like that.”

percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”

his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”

you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you.

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.

“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)

“you didn’t ask for this either.”

“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.

“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you.

“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”

“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”

he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.

percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”

you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”

you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”

percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”

he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

“took you guys long enough.”

you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.

“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.

percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.

“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.

connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”

you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”

“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with another bright laugh.

percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #woc friendly #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson one-shot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson x fem! reader #percy jackson oneshots #kashaf ki likhai

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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months ago

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The Eye of the Hurricane [11] - Arrogance

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Engagement period is supposed to be romantic.

Word Count: 3300

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

For the next couple of days, you barely had any time for yourself. It wasn’t as if you were naive enough to believe planning a wedding would be relaxing, but this?

This was something else.

“Can I just let you handle the whole thing?” you asked your wedding planner on the phone, leaning back on your seat while you kept your eyes on the people in the café and she let out a laugh.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your trust in me,” she said. “But you still need to choose among the things I send you, otherwise it’ll be like it's my wedding.”

“I don’t know, you strike me as a person who has good taste,” you said. “I might not be completely opposed to that idea.”

“Thanks but I already planned and had my wedding.”

“Right!” you said, snapping your fingers. “You said you were married to a professor, right?”

“Mm hm.”

“Was there like an open floor for discussions on your wedding?”

“Nah, more like an open bar,” she said. “And don’t try to distract me, my assistant sent you like one hundred emails.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered. “At least I decided on the place.”

“Yeah one down, ninety-nine to go,” she said. “Barnes weekend residence. We’re going there tomorrow right?”

“Yeah at 2 o’clock, it’s already on my calendar.”

“Great,” she said. “Answer my emails by then, please?”

“I will, talk to you later!” you said as you saw Ethan walk into the café and you waved at him after hanging up.

“Hey!” he said, coming to hug you when you stood up from your seat. “It’s been a while!”

“Hey yourself,” you said and pulled back from the hug to smile at him, then sat down when he did. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been busy.”

“So I figured,” he said after ordering a coffee to the waiter who approached your table to take his order and you sat up straighter.

“How about you?” you said. “How is everything at the company?”

“Also pretty chaotic,” he said with a small smile. “I’ve been working overtime, a lot.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah!” he said. “Yeah it’s just…it’s a really big company that wants things done in a certain way.”

“Do you want me to send someone around so that they can talk to your boss?”

His eyes widened.

“I—you—” he stammered. “I’m— I’m honored but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” you asked, tilting your head. “If they’re giving you a hard time, it’s only fair if they have a hard time as well.”

He stared at you as the waiter put the cup of coffee in front of him, and then he cleared his throat.

“I’ll never get used to your lifestyle I think.”

“That’s a good thing,” you said with a small smile. “Please don’t.”

“So how about you?” he asked. “What have you been up to?”

You blinked a couple of times, nervousness churning your stomach before you took a sip of your coffee.

“That’s actually why I asked you here,” you muttered. “And I—I know it’s going to sound a bit rushed, but um…”

He pulled his brows together, his whole attention on you.

“What is it?” he asked and you swallowed thickly, then tried to smile.

“I’m getting married.”

He gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence as if he wasn’t sure if he had heard you right while you just sat there, nibbling on your lip.

“You…you what?” he asked when he could pull himself together and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Getting married,” you said. “In a month, actually.”

“I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship—”

“I wasn’t,” you cut him off and a look of realization dawned on his face, making him pull back slightly.

“This is what we talked about all those years ago, isn’t it?” he asked. “Back at college. I asked you numerous times and you said no but in your world—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted him again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can say no,” he insisted and you sipped your coffee, reminding yourself to not let anything show on your face.

“What makes you think I want to say no?”

“You want to get married?” he asked with a dry laugh. “And to whom, if you don’t mind me ask?”

“Bucky Barnes.”

Ethan blinked a couple of times.

“…Bucky Barnes as in the guy you hate?”

“Things change,” you said calmly and he scoffed.

“Do they?” he asked. “So it’s a love marriage? Nothing to do with your family business?”

“To repeat, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your world—”

“Ethan, I don’t mean to be rude,” you said through your teeth. “But if you genuinely believe that you know anything about my world, you’re fooling yourself.”

He pressed his lips together, then took a deep breath and pushed his chair back, your bodyguards sitting up straighter as if on cue but you held up a hand, gesturing at them to sit still. Ethan looked between you and the bodyguards, then let out a somber chuckle and put some cash on the table.

“For the coffee,” he said and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Ethan…”

“If they’re forcing you to do this—”

“Nobody is forcing me,” you told him, looking him in the eye and he nodded his head slowly.

“Then I guess congratulations on the wedding,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m not going to pretend I know anything about your world Y/N, I’m just…I’m just wondering what happened to the girl who told me she’d only marry for love, that’s all.”

With that, he walked out of the café and you gritted your teeth, then pressed your palms on your eyes, slouching in your chair.

“I killed her I guess,” you muttered to yourself and lowered your hands. “Occupational hazard and all.”

As you knocked on the door to Becca’s apartment, you could swear your head was about to explode from the headache pounding in your temples. You heaved a sigh and rubbed at your eyes, then heard the footsteps before the door opened.

“Oh hi Y/N!” Leila said. “It's great to see you, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, offering her a smile. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all, come in!”

“Is Becca here?”

“Yeah!” she said as she stepped aside so that you could go in. “We were just watching—um, are you okay?”

“Not exactly,” you grumbled and made your way to the living room to see Becca sitting on the couch with the remote in her hand.

“Hey, I didn’t know—” she started but stopped talking when you flung yourself on the other couch across from hers, letting out a groan. You could hear Leila entering the living room as well and you raised your head from the pillow with a sigh.

“Do either of you have a painkiller?”

“Oh yeah, let me get it for you,” Leila said and rushed to the kitchen while you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, then hugged a pillow over your stomach.

“What’s going on?” Becca asked and you huffed out.

“Terrible day. Do you want to go out for drinks?”

“I’d love to but I have plans,” she said apologetically. “I’ll go out in like an hour.”

“What plans?”

“Uh…therapy,” she answered as Leila came back to the living room holding a glass of water and a pill.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you took them from her and she smiled at you, then went to sit beside Becca after you swallowed the pill and put the glass on the small coffee table.

“So?” Becca said. “What happened? Is it Bucky?”

“For once, nope.”

“Congratulations on the engagement by the way!” Leila said. “To be honest, I could kind of tell something was there even when you two kept arguing that night.”

You raised your brows and stole a look at Becca who shrugged her shoulders subtly. It wasn’t that you thought she would say anything to anyone about the real reason why you and Bucky were getting married, but she had fallen so head over heels in love with Leila that it took you by surprise that she hadn’t told her either.

But on a second thought, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised. Not only would you trust Becca with your life, but Becca was also raised with the same rules as you and Bucky were, and secrets were almost sacred in your world.

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile. “It’s a bit rushed but when you know you know.”

“That’s so true,” Leila said, holding Becca’s hand and a cute blush spread over Becca’s cheeks, making you smile despite the headache.

“So it’s not Bucky then?” Becca asked and you massaged your temples.

“Ethan.”

“Oh I liked Ethan—” Leila started, but stopped when she saw the look on your face. “Or you know, I could also hate him if we hate him now, I don’t mind.”

“No no,” you said. “He’s sweet but um…I told him the news about the wedding and he understandably did not like it.”

“You two weren’t together though?”

“Eh, there was still something,” Becca said. “He likes you, a lot.”

“He thinks I’m being forced into this,” you said and Becca shot you a smile.

“As if anyone could force you into marrying my brother.”

“I mean it’s not the nineteenth century,” Leila pointed out and Becca let out a laugh.

“So, how heartbroken was he?”

“I wouldn’t say he was heartbroken,” you muttered. “Just angry I guess. And I get it, I haven’t been completely honest with him—” You were cut off when your phone started vibrating and you took a look at the screen, then pushed yourself off the couch.

“I’ll be right back,” you said and walked to Becca’s bedroom, then took the phone to your ear.

“Yeah?”

��Hey beautiful,” Bucky’s voice reached you and you sat down on Becca’s bed, fully aware that you were pouting your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’s your day going?”

“Meh,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “What is it?”

“I just called to let you know we have a dinner reservation tonight,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from the hotel around 8?”

You made a face. “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like your presence any more than you like mine,” you stated. “And it’ll be harder for me to ignore you in a restaurant if it’s just the two of us having dinner.”

“I mean, you do realize you don’t have to ignore me—”

“I know I don’t have to, it’s more of a hobby,” you said. “So? Why are you taking me out to dinner?”

“Because if we want people to believe it’s a love marriage rather than what it actually is, we need to be seen outside as a couple,” he said and you heaved a sigh, then ran a hand over your face.

“Right.”

“So then—”

“Yeah you can pick me up at 8,” you said and he paused for a second.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You sound a bit…”

“Yeah I’m fine,” you said in a rush. “It’s just you know, this whole marriage thing—I’m fine. I’m great.”

“Very convincing,” he deadpanned and you scoffed a laugh.

“Just pick a nice restaurant, will you?” you asked and hung up before he could retort, then huffed out and got up from the bed to walk back to the living room to see Leila walking to the kitchen.

“So Becca has stuff to do but I figured we could drink and watch trash TV if you’d like?” she asked as soon as she saw you. “I can make mimosas.”

You blinked a couple of times and nodded fervently.

“That’d be great!” you said and she gave you a happy smile, then entered the kitchen. You smiled to yourself, then flung yourself next to Becca.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you said and Becca tilted her head.

“About what?”

“About what I said earlier,” you said. “You totally should propose and marry her, she’s amazing.”

Even you had to admit, the restaurants in Bucky’s territory were better than the ones in your father’s territory.

It was rather annoying but considering your house with him would of course be in his territory, at least you already knew you would get good food whenever you two went out for dinner. Bucky’s palm was warm on the small of your back and if it were any other time you would have slipped out of his grasp but you let him guide you to the restaurant.

“Mr. Barnes, it’s an honor,” A man greeted you two by the entrance. “Your table is ready, please follow me.”

You looked around the luxurious interior as you and Bucky made your way to your table, and a waiter pulled your chair for you to sit down. You took a quick look at the menu before ordering and Bucky just asked for his usual, and you watched the waiter walk away with the man.

“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” you told Bucky. “When did it open?”

“Around a year ago,” he said. “I like it here, it’s…private, mostly.”

You hummed while the waiter filled your glass with wine and you took a sip, enjoying the nice taste.

“So my dad called while I was getting ready,” you said. “Apparently he will talk to Stark sometime this week.”

“I have a pretty good guess about how that will go,” Bucky muttered and you bit inside your cheek.

“You think Stark will make things difficult?”

“I mean he’s not going to like it because two families uniting means a tremendous power in the city,” Bucky stated. “Let’s see how he reacts and plan accordingly.”

“Might have to sweettalk him,” you said. “Gift him a shipment or two. And Romanoff?”

“I’m meeting her tomorrow,” he said. “Steve will be there too, they’re old friends. Any stupid comments from Ian lately?”

“Nope. By the way I was going to ask you but I forgot—that night, when you and Ian were talking,” you said. “What did he tell you?”

Bucky scoffed before taking a sip of his wine.

“He was saying that you wanted to be an active player in the business,” he said with a small smile. “Just in case I didn’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Idiot.”

“But I don’t think he suspects anything.”

“No, he thinks the same as my dad,” you said with a dry laugh. “I get married and pop out a few babies and become a fucking Stepford Wife.”

Bucky shot you a grin, then his head shot up.

“Oh I almost forgot,” he said and took out a small velvet box out of his pocket, then put it on the table. You arched a brow.

“Is that the ring?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah you can take it back,” you said after sipping your wine. “I’ll go and check some jewelers tomorrow and get something pretty, they can send you the bill.”

He pulled his brows together. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“I don’t need to, I’ve seen the women you dated,” you pointed out. “Something tells me they didn’t educate you well about jewelry so there’s no need for—”

You stopped talking when he reached out to open the small box for you and your eyes fell upon the ring, the rest of your sentence getting stuck in your throat. The pear-shaped diamond on the delicate rose gold band was so pretty that for a couple of seconds you could only stare at it while it glimmered under the dim light of the restaurant, almost hypnotizing you before you remembered to pull yourself together.

It was definitely to your taste, as if…

“Becca helped you,” you managed to say as you reached out to take it into your hand and he nodded.

“Mm hm. Today.”

“Well played.”

Bucky gave you a proud smile, his piercing blue gaze almost too hot on your skin and you slipped the ring onto your finger, then held up your hand so that you could look at it better.

“It’s pretty,” you said. “I’m keeping it in the divorce by the way.”

He clutched as his chest. “Don’t be so romantic Charm, I’m going to get emotional.”

That made a laugh spill from your lips while the waiter brought your food, and you thanked him while Bucky leaned forward on his elbows as if he wasn’t even aware of anything else but you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“How did you use to imagine it?”

You looked at him. “Imagine what?”

“Your engagement period, your wedding, you name it,” he said and you hummed, then leaned back.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe we can make the wedding the way you pictured it,” he said and you scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt it,” you said. “When I pictured my wedding, I always pictured myself in love. There was this fairytale wedding, gorgeous wedding gown, we’d go to Paris for the honeymoon and he’d be reciting poetry about how much he was in love with me in bed.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat.

“I’m not good with poetry.”

“Never thought you were,” you said. “Eh, maybe my second marriage will go the way I pictured it.”

That caused a shadow to cross his eyes but he recovered fast, sipping his drink.

“How about you?” you asked. “How did you use to imagine your second marriage?”

He tilted his head. “What happened to my first marriage?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said, pointing at him with your fork. “Funny story. You knocked her up and you guys decided to keep it because you got emotional and it would be your first heir, so you two ended up getting married in a rush and named that baby your actual heir.”

An amused smile curled his lips. “Interesting. Go on.”

“But after the baby, that marriage turned into one full of resentment and then you decided it was a good idea to fuck your secretary.”

“So I live in a porn scenario?” he asked and you nodded.

“Pretty much. Then your wife left you, took away all your things—”

“I don’t have a prenup?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“Impossible.”

“You don’t exactly have a prenup with me.”

He winked at you. “Maybe I trust you.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” you retorted, making him chuckle. “But yeah, your first wife divorced you. Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“It was good while it lasted, I’m sure.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure, she hates you,” you said airily. “Rightfully, that is. Then you meet your second wife who definitely deserves better than you, but by some miracle she stays with you.”

“Thanks a lot, she sounds amazing.”

“Right?” you said. “There you go. Your two marriages.”

“Very creative,” he pointed out. “Do I recite poetry to her in this scenario?”

“Yes but you also have performance problems so romance makes up for it, in a way,” you stated and he smirked.

“You seem to put a lot of thought into my performance, pillow princess.”

Your jaw dropped as you gasped. “Wh—how dare—you don’t even—”

“Please,” he said. “You dream of a guy reciting poetry to you on your honeymoon.”

You could feel your cheeks burning as you glared daggers at him.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, making him smirk.

“That being said, you have nothing to worry about my performance.”

You rolled your eyes at him while you chewed on your bite, then swallowed it.

“See Bucky, this is exactly why when I divorce you, I’m keeping the ring and the weekend house,” you pointed at him with your fork, coaxing a chuckle out of him. “You’re too arrogant for your own good.”

Chapter 12

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