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perelka-l · 1 year

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Hi, I’m the person who asked about Ghetsis and the paradox of his attitude towards N’s ability half a year ago. I’m very very sorry for taking so inappropriately long to answer, had a lot going on.

I gravitate towards the theory that N and Ghetsis might be distant relatives with a common ancestor, which would explain a lot of things, from physical similarities to the denial of fatherhood. They could have any other type of blood connection besides that of a parent a child - after all, royal family trees tend to be huge and messy. I think N comes from the direct lineage (which grants him special powers), while Ghetsis might be from an offshoot of the original family. In other words, the former is the legitimate successor of the king and has more rights to the throne. He’s also closer to their progenitor personality-wise.

(There are a couple of more reasons why I don’t think Ghet is N’s bio father. Taking into account the stigma surrounding adoption in Japan makes me wonder if there was an out-of-universe cause for portraying Lusamine more positively that Ghetsis. That is not to say the green satan should’ve been redeemed; imao both characters deserve to rot in hell. I just suspect that the writers only let Lusamine (and not the other villain) off the hook due to her being a biological parent. And speaking of parents... this one’s purely subjective, but I find it hard to envision Ghetsis in a stable, serious long-term relationship leading to pregnancy. Taking an orphan under your wing for evil purposes is one thing, but living with a s/o and having them bear your child is another. I don’t believe a “one-night stand gone wrong” scenario is plausible and fitting for his personality either).

As for the paradox, I’ve come up with three possible explanations.

1. Ghetsis got overwhelmed by plain old envy. Taking his royal origins very seriously, he brought together the sages, worked on searching the ruins, and adhered to a certain image. And then there was N, who simply happened to be born with the king’s abilities and in the right lineage, which automatically made him the true heir. Of course, this wouldn’t really matter to normal people, since Unova is no longer a monarchy and there’s no need for heirs, but it’s Ghetsis we’re talking about. All of his insults towards N could stem from jealousy and a sense of rivalry. I suppose observing how his adopted son just managed to resemble King Harmonia naturally (no pun intended) must’ve unnerved Ghetsis a lot. Oh, and their physical similarities could’ve added insult to injury, constantly reminding him that they share some dna, but N is still a more worthy descendant.

2. Ghetsis indulged in cherry-picking. Despite cherishing his legacy, he had his own weird ideas about ruling and disregarded some of the king’s tenets anyway (“Do not be barbaric”, “Think, act with love”, “Wars create tears”). Perhaps Ghet did consider the monarch freaky for the special ability but acknowledged his achievements nonetheless.

3. Double standards were at fault. He could excuse a great king talking to Pokemon but drew the line at some odd forest kid who fails to understand even humans doing the same thing.

TL;DR: 1) Ghetsis didn’t consider the ability inherently despicable, it’s just that he gave vent to envy and blind rage whenever his ward was concerned.

2) He viewed the trait as freakish indeed but avoided internal dissonance by focusing on historical facts he deemed favourable and downplaying/ignoring everything else.

3) It’s selective morality and mental gymnastics all the way down. He didn’t mind cutting the king some slack yet refused to extend the same courtesy to N.

Since I’m drawing on the assumption that the characters come from different branches of difference significance, I’m inclined to think Ghetsis cannot talk to Pokémon after all. Besides, if he could, he would’ve had a much easier time achieving his goals in BW.

By the way, I can’t stop thinking about just how much Ghetsis lost by pushing N away. He rejected not only his son but also an invaluable potential ally - an ally who could’ve aided greatly in his research. Teaming up with a genius who’s personally invested in exploring the ruins (who would’ve been invested had he known about his lineage, I mean) and possesses unique powers is a perfect scenario one could only dream of. Nevertheless, Ghetsis decidedly gave up that opportunity and let pride (perhaps along with envy) outweigh all other feelings, thoughts, and aspirations. In the end, pride managed to win over his interest in the heritage and over his reverence. That, in my opinion, is one of the greatest undoings of King Harmonia’s descendant. He chose to ruin his own life, to brutally sever ties with the only person in the world who genuinely loved him and who shared blood and legacy with him. You once wrote that Ghetsis holds answers to 90% of BW’s mysteries; well, the number could be brought to 100% if only he wasn’t an utter bastard.

Gosh, it has been months since this one arrived at my askbox and I just thought I would cook the answer over time and it never happened. Apologies for that. The time has come. Finally, guh!! So fret not anon, the pain of taking shitton of time to reply is mutual. So I think it's OK.

I also think about the common ancestor between those two, but more in an annoyed, grumbly manner of "fine, if it's not direct relation I will take anything". And indeed that could be a more canon-supported way of connecting those two, precisely for arguments you are mentioning.

(As a side note, though, in Pokemas Ghetsis says that they are not bound by blood. In same sentence calling him his son. Ngl I love the way Ghetsis riffs off on family ties to try and manipulate and/or hurt N. Amazing.)

But I would wonder about legitimacy - we kinda do know Ghetsis feels entitled to the crown and I don't think there is more to that than just hunger for power and N being the King of Plasma is entirely Ghetsis' idea...

(In a way, it's something that could not even hinge on N because, uh, USUM: in which Ghetsis planned to do exactly the same shit he pulled off in his universe (in which he already took over and succeeded in his plans) but with Giovanni of all people. But then, in that case Ghetsis doesn't have to add the element of being chosen by Zekrom/Reshiram, so maybe it's just a repeat run with no reasoning but pieces aligning.)

But my point is - Ghetsis' idea of him being the one deserving the power he craves doesn't come purely from his own hunger, I think. But then, he couldn't become the chosen hero. If he could, it would make things much more simple for him and wouldn't bother with finding/arranging N. Which is... something I can't help but wonder about, what would N be if Ghetsis wasn't here.

I don't know about stigma of adoption in JP, could you elaborate?

And yeah, admittedly I am also a bit disappointed about Lusa being protrayed with significant backpedal to her evil - even despite SM compounding that ultimately she wasn't entirely in control of her own actions. I also think that what you say now is also what happened in B2W2 - the blood relation between N and Ghetsis wasn't elaborated upon, being more left vaguely in the air in BW while it was B2W2 that compounded the lack of relation. Which is... sad, really. And not the only thing I am :/ about in terms of things spoken out loud and simplified in B2W2 that in BW were implied or left unsaid (shadow triad theory my beloved ;;;A;;; )

I entirely agree about points with Ghetsis not being able to sustain any relationship (c'mon, it's Ghetsis.) (on that note I always remember that one fantastic kinkmeme fic about Ghetsis being actually woman dressed as a man and getting her child from Alder by manipulation, 10/fucking 10, but I am carried away over here) and I think one night stands would be entirely beneath him. But I think there is no need to consider, shall we say, normal ways of prgnancy and if anything, I wouldn't be surprised if Ghetsis tried to go for less moral means, starting with manipulation and ending with force.

I did now write a bit about 1. (look, I am replying as I read and think OK, I am not good with structured writing stuff) but in a way I think it's important that symbolism carries weight in Pokemon World while history is in a way pushed aside or bestowed upon small group of individuals as lore or hidden knowledge that does ultimately carry great power. I always wonder what happened first - did Ghetsis reach out to the lore and hidden knowledge because of his own background and that inspired him to try and reach for power? Or did he reach for it in his search for power?? Just another mystery.

(which, hilariously, N wondered about in Pokemas either: Sometimes I wonder what his... What Ghetsis's past was like. I don't know anything about his parents or his childhood... I wonder if I ever will." Man, those lines made me froth at mouth a bit ngl)

You mentioning physical similarities is one thing I adore to ponder about with those two, but when you throw the theory that Ghetsis due to his Harmonia lineage can understand Pokemon speaking... and considering how he treats that ability in N, there could be some repressed rage at himself, and that would only add fuel to injury to seeing the way N reaches what he cannot. (Which kinda breaks the point number 3 for me wwwww Ghetsis is a bit of a hateful individual)... My point is: yeah, he hates that and surpresses that. He could have used that to his own goals, but I don't think he would even admit that he can do such a monstrous thing.

Re: 2, I wonder if he misinterpreted / chose to misinterpret the tenets less as what to do and more as what to portray. To be fair, Ghetsis can be perfectly charming and polite (kind, if you ask him, but ahah, yeah, right) and maybe he used those rules as tips and tricks how to manipulate the masses.

Ghetsis indeed fucked up royally (lol) by revealing his cards too soon (in Pokemas as well, really, he could have carried on that act of disgraced and regretful father for so much longer). But then, I am a little not surprised he did, in BW. He did spend a good few years playing someone he is not and the moment he could throw away the mask was surely a relief, and he believed so deeply he'd succeeded that he didn't think of keeping it on his face for just a tiny bit more, as a failsafe. Indeed, he could do so much more, but he detested N too deeply and believed in how own capabilities too much. Pride and hatred and indeed, envy, no matter which angle we use to look at it.

Ultimately, that's why he is a villain and why he lost, not even once but twice.

#ghetsis #listen to my voice #answers #anon #anonymous #7 months jfc i am ashamed i am sorry ;;A;;#i tried my best tostructure this thing and i hope it's more or less coherent hhh #but yeah that last point made me think that like #we kinda perceive where n and ghetsis came from and what truly is behind them in different ways but no matter how you look at it #ghetsis is deeply flawed and evil and greedy and green satan 10/10 love him #but also when pokemas dropped that line of n pondering where ghetsis came from i felt SEEN #like whoa holy shit #pokemas tho has varying levels of canonicity so take that as you will #also i never before realized that usum pulled off same shit as b2w2 and i am not sure what to think about it #like not 1:1 same but like.#tho tbf as i played through usum i felt a bit relieved i don't have to deal with lusa bc mmmmmmm yeah i love her but jesus christ #but like narratively??? idk??????????????????#anyway yeah gods i am rambling #Long post #I hope I didn't repeat points I already used fhfhjfhfhf

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avid-adoxography · 1 year

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NO WAY

NO FUCKING WAY

THE CEO OF MATTEL????? FROM THE BARBIE MOVIE????????

WHO??? THIS GUY?????

Blocking you for spreading misinformation smh...

I hate this guy. Hate him! I'm throwing him on the big heart shaped table in his conference room. Teeth snapping and growling. Straddling his hips and grabbing him by his tie and and AND! AND THEN I'D!!! .....I'd kiss him. On the mouth.

Then we hold hands... and skate to Barbieland together. We might share a boba if I'm feeling adventurous. And then, well... Whatever happens in the Mojo Dojo Casa House stays in the Mojo Dojo Casa House fhdjbfjdfjkd

#we're having a pillow fight. the fuck y'all were thinking. get y'all's head out fo the gutter #sure at some point my hands will be inside his shirt and our bodies might get tangled together but that's beside the point #like... come on #have you seen the movie? i can fulfill his dreams while living mine. shut up. you know I'm right.#also don't look at me. i know. I'm already ashamed enough.#he started it ok?? he is the origin of it all!!! it's his fault I'm in this state!!!!#and yeah this frame ain't in the movie but it's the only one that perfectly conveys his vibes cbjdhdjd #I'm dieing squirtle. i truly am.#taonpest #avid-answers

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fairy-flight · 11 months

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yeah i like solavellan a lot. sue me. not going to apologize for it but i am sorry for the amount of art i'm about to reblog

#getting a little too real down here but i was shamed and ridiculed so intensely by The Evil One for liking solavellan and by extension solas #that i got so ashamed of having feelings about fictional characters and i hid what i liked for so long because i was legitimately afraid #but no more. fuck you. i'm not ashamed of liking certain characters or shows or anything anymore just cause someone says i should be #i am harming absolutely no one by liking a video game character #but also i don't care if i look “cringe” anymore #if you don't like a thing i like sorry but who cares! you don't have to berate me over it! this is a a video game!#i don't want to hear it and i don't care if someone else doesn't like me over fictional characters

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queers-gambit · 1 year

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Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

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spaghettioverdose · 10 months

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If you are usamerican and someone gets frustrated that usamericans have no clue about most of the major atrocities their country committed, and you feel attacked, you can at any point just google it and shut up.

Yeah ok, someone brought to your attention that you should've known this shit and you didn't. You're probably a bit upset, a bit ashamed, a bit guilty, you probably feel a bit attacked. That's fine. You can just think "Oh I probably should've made an effort to know about things like this if I am to consider myself progressive or leftist. I could simply google it or I could ask OP to give some recommended reading on the subject. I am going to educate myself and move on." or you can at least simply recognise that at the end of the day you don't really care and move on. You do not have to go "you don't understand how bad the us education system is, they don't teach you how to wipe your ass in school!! also I'm literally neurodivergent which means I am incapable of taking my eyes off of fandom for the 5 whole minutes it would take for me to at least read one article about this."

Why do you feel the need to endlessly be the victim? Why do you have to act like a clown? If you didn't know, you can just recognise that you probably should've known, take the L, educate yourself and move on.

Do you think there's many countries that mention their atrocities in their history lessons? Do you think many countries talk about US history and atrocities other than the ones that experience said atrocities? And yet people still fucking know.

This information hasn't even been suppressed in decades but it apparently doesn't need to be since most of the US population isn't bothered enough to look it up, and when someone is frustrated with you about that fact, you'd rather double down and throw a tantrum than educate yourselves.

You cannot tell me you want anything progressive or left or even socialist and yet you vocally refuse to do the barest fucking minimum of effort to know anything about the fucking country you live in or the role it has geopolitically.

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inkskinned · 8 months

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the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

#spilled ink #ty nat #ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')

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zivazivc · 8 months

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Hiii!! Ufff I don't know how to tell you that I love your take on Floyd. like some bad bad life decisions were taken (THAT SO!!! INTERESTING FOR HIM). Do you think he ever feels ashamed of himself when he looks at Branch's eyes, like "shit, this guy really believes in me" or "he doesn't even know everything I have done"? Like he has some really BIG "Love me Less by Max" vibes

They all really believe in his goodness which is worse

And OH he definitely feels so much shame and regret. I think a big part of why he fell as hard as he did was because he finally didn't have to be his brothers' mediator, and I guess at one point he forgot that he still needed to be the voice of reason for himself. His new band mates encouraging his reckless behavior didn't help. Honestly I personally think young Floyd was a very naive kid and very dependent on his older brothers but his strong empathy gave them all the impression that he was much more mature and independent than he really was...

So yeah... you can imagine that constantly partying, doing drugs and sleeping around wears someone down after a few years. I think Floyd also went gray like Branch (not for as long tho) and he broke up with the band wanting to go home badly, but he was also ashamed of showing his face after a number of years as a gray drug addict, so he kind of just ended up alone...

If we're sharing songs, I have to show you this one by Linkin Park because I think Floyd wrote it for Branch (and the rest of his family (and some parts also addressing himself)) while he was at that desperate and lonely period because I am also extremely emo

youtube

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waywardxrhea · 1 month

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butterfly effect - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

part two of Casual

Spencer and Reader's first meeting is revealed along with how both are feeling in the aftermath of the restaurant debacle in part one.

word count: ~6.4k

content: 18+ minors DNI! language, angst! fluff (oh the fluff in this one is sickly sweet - i told y'all i don't like unhappy endings)! smut (i simply could not help myself because i've had this one line stuck in my head for weeks and it just so happened to transition very well in this piece i'm not sorry): oral [male receiving], unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms mentioned.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

now playing: butterfly effect by Sophie Holohan also a hint of vulnerable by Leanna Firestone <3

Then…

You watched as drops of condensation raced down the side of your iced coffee cup, lost in your own thoughts as you ignored the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk to your left. It was a sunny morning on your day off and you were at your favorite local coffee shop, trying to ignore your work responsibilities for as long as possible. You were doodling in the rustic looking parchment journal you had found at a thrift store when you went shopping with Celeste and Maddie yesterday, and you had become enthralled with butterflies once more.

You had a hyperfixation on the beautiful creatures when you were younger and in some circles were ashamed to admit how much you knew about them. They were just so fascinating and beautiful, how could you not adore them? You knew that this cafe’s outdoor seating area was teeming with them during April due to their migratory pattern as well as all of the plant life they had blooming within all of the scattered pots seated throughout the patio, so it was the perfect time for catching glimpses of the creatures you had lost touch with for many years.

A beautiful one with black and white coloring and long trailing wings fluttered by and you quickly snatched your cup and journal up as you went to follow the beautiful creature. If your memory served you right it was a Zebra Swallowtail, one you hadn’t seen since your childhood, and you were determined to capture its beauty in your new journal.

Your journey following the butterfly was short-lived though, when as you quickly exited the patio’s gate you ran smack into someone! You felt your condensation coated cup leave your grip as it was crushed between your body and the stranger’s and your eyes went wide as the drink spilled down their front, completely soaking through the button up they were wearing. And to add insult to injury, the manilla folder that had been in their hands was now absorbing the liquid on the ground.

With your now empty hand flying to cover your mouth, you began profusely apologizing, saying, “Oh my gosh I am so, so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! You see, I saw this really pretty butterfly that I wanted to sketch and I didn’t want it to get away but now it has and I completely ruined your shirt and your file and you were probably on your way to work and now you’re going to be late because of me and smell like coffee the rest of the day and oh my gosh I am so sorry I am mortified right now!” By the end of your rambled on apology you had covered your face with your journal, afraid to look up at the person you had run into, especially after such a rambling and childish apology…

What surprised you was the person letting out a soft laugh in response to your rambling before telling you, “If you were going after something in the name of science I can’t exactly fault you for running into me. I likely would have done the same.”

“You- What…?” you asked, risking a peek over the top of your journal, only to see the smiling face of a boyishly handsome man around your age with cropped and almost curly hair that fell slightly over his eyes. He was gorgeous. His melodic laugh rang out once more and it prompted you to lower the journal to your side fully, risking a glance at the damage your drink did.

You cringed as you looked at his once pristine and pressed shirt, but your anxious thoughts were interrupted by him telling you, “You were going after a butterfly that you wanted to make an observation of in its habitat. As a man of science I can’t fault you for doing so.” He bent over to pick up his now thoroughly soaked file and offered a small smile as he came back up and added, “I’m Spencer by the way. I don’t exactly follow the science of lepidopterology, but it’s a fascinating subject. Do you study them for a living?”

You offered your name in turn before saying, “Oh, uh, no I- It’s just a sort of hyperfixation I’ve had on and off since I was a kid,” You felt an intense blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks after the admission crossed your lips and you wished that the earth would open up beneath you and save you from yourself. Instead of just keeping your mouth shut though, you rambled on, “And now it’s probably ruined your day and routine and again I am so sorry! Were you heading in? I could buy your drink! It’s the least I can do after ruining…everything.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, I’m getting drinks for more than just me,” Spencer replied as he began opening his satchel bag and pulling out a sweater vest which he put on and covered the coffee stain on his front. “See, good as new. I have a change of clothes at the office anyway. Don’t worry about the shirt.” He waved the folder to get the droplets of coffee off and added, “And don’t worry about the file either. I have it memorized. Eidetic memory. Comes in handy for times like this.”

“Right…” you said, making a mental note to look up what that meant rather than assuming. You nodded awkwardly before gesturing toward the door and heading that way, telling him, “Well I’m gonna head back inside to get a drink to replace the one I dropped. We can at least discuss how I could repay you while we wait?”

“If you insist,” Spencer said before following your lead into the small shop, the little bell above the door ringing out to alert the workers that someone had entered.

As you waited in line, you cleared your throat and asked awkwardly, “So, uh…what do you do for work?”

“I work for the FBI at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We basically use what’s called profiling to determine why people do what they do, specifically in the realm of killing people,” he told you as if it was a regular old nine to five and not what sounded like the most interesting job in the world.

“I- Wow! That sounds so cool!” you stuttered out awkwardly. You mentally kicked yourself at the stupid reply, but before you could rectify the situation it was Spencer’s turn to order. You breathed a sigh of relief at the out and began scouring your brain for ways you could repay Spencer for the mishap outside.

Once you ordered your replacement drink, you cleared your throat and shyly asked Spencer, “How about as an apology I take you to dinner? You choose where. I just feel really, really bad about spilling my drink on you…”

Spencer was silent for a beat before telling you, “I would like that. Thank you.” So before you two parted ways, Spencer wrote his number in your journal beside another butterfly you had been sketching and you sent him off with a warm smile while what felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies flew around in the pit of your stomach.

Your dinner with Spencer got delayed when the BAU was requested to work a case in Oregon, but you were fine with that as it gave you more time to grapple with the fact that, no, this wasn’t a date. This was simply a business transaction because you had ruined the man’s clothes and case file.

When Spencer returned after closing the case, you were finally ready to face the gorgeous man in what you hoped would be a platonic business-like way. That was until you saw his face again and heard his what turned out to be contagious laugh. He told you all kinds of fun facts about butterflies he had learned in preparation to have something to talk with you about and you practically had heart eyes as you listened to him ramble on and on about stuff even you didn’t know about the beautiful creatures.

The spark you thought was there turned out to be mutual and by the end of the night, Spencer was back to your apartment and between your legs, sending you into the most blissful state you had been in in years. As you learned during your dinner, Spencer had a vast understanding of the human body and mind and it turned out that those skills translated to the bedroom as well. Needless to say, he had completely exhausted you and you fell asleep in his arms under your duvet, your legs entangled as you clung onto him like a koala.

Waking up the morning after your dinner, Spencer began to come to his senses as he smelled bacon and pancakes being cooked and coffee lingering in the air of your apartment. At first he relaxed into the plush memory foam once more before he sat up with a start. What was he doing? He knew from current and former BAU members’ experiences, relationships while working for the unit were hard. The hours were odd and long, the mental toll of cases could be heavy at best and all consuming at most, and statistically the odds of someone in a relationship with an FBI agent - specifically a member of the BAU - becoming a target of a pissed off unsub was high. What if an unsub took you as a hostage in order to get to him? What if an unsub killed you as some cruel form of punishment for going after them? That wasn’t something he was willing to shoulder onto you, he thought as a shudder shook his whole body.

But there was no way he wanted to let you go from his life altogether, so when he emerged into the combined dining and kitchen area to see you cooking in just a t-shirt and underwear, Spencer cleared his throat and greeted you with a good morning before asking tentatively, “Hey uh… I was just thinking… With my job with the BAU being what it is, could we…would you mind if we kept this casual? I had an amazing time with you at dinner and in…other places, but it’s historically difficult for an FBI agent to maintain a proper relationship and give their partner the attention they deserve while also giving cases the attention they need. Would…would that be something you would be okay with?”

Spencer studied your body language as you concentrated on flipping the pancakes in front of you, doing so effortlessly as you nonchalantly replied, “If that’s what is easiest then yeah. I had a really good time last night too.” Relief flooded Spencer’s body at your response and he relaxed into the dining chair a bit more before standing up to pour himself some coffee and prepare it how he liked, content with the new arrangement he found himself in with the gorgeous and thoughtful woman in front of him.

So that’s how it went on for the following months. Between Spencer’s cases and your shifts at work, the two of you managed to see each other more and more. Sometimes the evenings started at restaurants and some were initiated at either of your apartments when you were feeling particularly needy.

Even though at first you were truly content with keeping things with Spencer casual, as time went on, you had started to develop feelings for the man. Feelings that sex alone couldn’t tame and that’s when you realized what you knew all along. That those butterflies you felt in your stomach during your first encounter were never a good sign.

Now…

A knock on your apartment door broke you from your trance of zoning out whatever was playing on Netflix at the moment and you looked up at the clock hanging on the wall to realize it was nearly three o’clock. You had spent most of your day off zoned out in front of the TV lost in your own thoughts when you were supposed to go to lunch with Celeste hours ago. Looking at your phone you noticed all the missed calls and texts and rubbed your tired eyes as you groaned in frustration.

The knock sounded once again before you heard Celeste’s voice calling out, “Are you in there? Do I need to call the cops for a welfare check?”

You attempted to smooth down your pjs before opening the door and telling her quietly, “No, I’m here. I’m sorry I flaked on lunch I didn’t mean to I just-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Celeste was wrapping you in a hug to end all hugs and asking softly, “What’s wrong?”

This simple question was always your downfall because the second that it was asked the floodgates opened and you began sobbing into Celeste’s shoulder. All of the tears you had denied yourself over the last week and a half finally began to freefall as you clung to your friend like she was a buoy out at sea and she was the only thing keeping you afloat.

Celeste managed to maneuver the two of you back into the apartment and closed the door as you began rambling through your tight and broken voice, “At the restaurant…when we celebrated Adri…Spencer was there. We…we had sex in the bathroom but then he just finished and left me hanging. No explanation. Then I overheard his coworker call me Spencer’s love toy. He…he didn’t shut down the comment. I just thought I meant more to him than that… So I panicked and left. Almost had a panic attack outside when he came to talk with me. I thought he was going to comfort me but then he just reminded me, ‘no attachments.’” This whole spiel took you the greater part of five minutes to get out between sobs and trying to catch your breath, but Celeste being patient as always gave you her attention the whole time. You took a final deep breath before finishing with, “I really, really like him Celeste… I was a fool to think I meant more to him.”

Celeste thought on your words for the few moments it took to lead you toward the couch. She sat down and brought your head to rest on her thigh, gently detangling your hair with her fingers as she said, “I’m sorry that he made you feel that way. And I’m sorry we didn’t notice something was wrong before now. We’re your friends, we should be there for you through stuff like this.”

“It’s nothing you did,” you quickly told her. “Work kept me occupied this week so I tried to just ignore everything but then today I guess it all caught up to me…” Celeste nodded and you relaxed as she continued to mess with your hair.

Her silence was broken when she finally said, “Not to play Devil’s advocate, because what he did was not okay, but have you thought about why he came out to check on you when you left?”

This question caused you to furrow your eyebrows together and think about it. Why did he come outside? None of the other BAU members were leaving. It was just him… You cleared your throat and admitted, “I uh… I didn’t think about that.” There was a beat of silence before you told her, “I haven’t told you guys much about his job besides that he works for the FBI, but he’s what they call a profiler. He can tell a lot about a person just by reading their body language. Maybe…”

When you trailed off, leaving your sentence unfinished, Celeste offered, “Maybe he knew you were upset from your body language so he came to comfort you?”

You thought about it for a second before telling her, “I mean maybe, but that wouldn’t explain-” Your sentence died in your throat as another knock sounded through the apartment. “Did you text Maddie or Adri?” you asked Celeste.

“No,” Celeste replied as you began pulling yourself into a sitting position. “I’ll see who it is.”

As she did you started to realize how dehydrated you were, so you slowly made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As you stood, a dizzying feeling filled your head and darkness lined your peripheral vision, but you tried to ignore it as you made your way to the fridge. You vaguely heard the exchange happening at your door, but your attention was caught when Celeste called your name to get your attention. Looking up from your glass and Brita, you saw Spencer in your doorway with a bouquet of flowers and your heart gave an irregular stutter in your chest. “He says he wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” Celeste asked and you could hear the protective nature in her voice that Spencer was no doubt picking up on too.

“Y-yeah,” you replied, nodding in case she couldn’t hear you across the room.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked, eyeing Spencer’s tall form almost suspiciously as she did.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you told her, offering her a small smile. “Thank you for coming to check on me. I’ll make lunch up to you next weekend.” Celeste nodded hesitantly before grabbing her purse off of the floor where she had dropped it and began making her way out. You were sure she would stay idled in the parking lot of the complex until you texted her that everything was okay, so you made a mental note to do so after this was over. Whatever this was.

Taking a deep breath, you offered a quiet, “Hi,” to Spencer as he approached your dining area with the rather large bouquet in hand. That couldn’t have been cheap.

“Hey,” he said, almost as quietly as you did. He cleared his throat and said, “I…I wanted to apologize for what happened last time we saw each other.”

Nodding, you quickly wiped a stray tear away as you told him, “I was really hurt, Spencer.”

“I know that now. So that’s why I brought you these,” he reiterated as he offered the flowers out to you. “In flower language the white roses symbolize my remorse for what happened, my seeking of forgiveness, and my hope for a new beginning between the two of us. The pink hyacinths represent new love and fresh starts. The white hyacinths represent my wish for healing between us. And the pink tulips represent my asking for forgiveness and the sincerity behind my words.” You tentatively accepted the flowers and took a moment to breathe in their natural fragrance with closed eyes as Spencer rambled on, “Did you know that floriography has been practiced for thousands of years and was even used in theatrical works, most notably Shakespeare? A lot of people take for granted what the flowers they’re giving mean, but the meaning behind each one can offer you a great deal of insight into the mind of the giver.”

You tried to hide the small smile teasing your lips in response to Spencer’s ramblings which you always found endearing by searching your cabinets for a vase to put them in. With your back turned toward him, you cleared your throat and quietly told him, “Thank you. They’re beautiful. I just…” you pulled out a vase and let out a heavy sigh as you brought it to the sink to rinse out and fill with fresh water. “Fucking me in the restroom and just leaving before I got off without an explanation hurt. Hearing what Derek said, calling me your ‘love toy’ and you agreeing to it really hurt. I… I know you said no attachments, but… I’ve spent so much time with you and got to know you and I realized that I can’t do this whole casual thing anymore…” By the time you finished your statement, you had opened the flower food and put it into the water and hugged your arms to your body as you tried to make yourself smaller amidst the palpable tension in the room.

“I could tell by your body language as you left the restaurant that something was wrong but I didn’t know what but I followed you out regardless because I knew something was wrong and wanted to try and fix it…” Spencer admitted. So Celeste was right about that… You didn’t have time to think about that though as Spencer continued, telling you, “I really messed up by leaving you in there after what I did, and it took me a while to realize what I did wrong because… Gosh now I really sound like an ass saying it out loud.” He scratched the back of his neck as he said, “I had calculated the longest average time an adult male takes in the restroom and was limiting myself to that time limit as we…did what we did in there. I knew that most of the team had seen you pass by and so I didn’t want them to think we were having sex in a restroom of all places. Not that I am ashamed to be with you at all, with you I’ve had the best few months of my life I think, but there are some aspects of my life I would like to keep private from them.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, unable to help the huff of a laugh that escaped your lips at the admission. What a truly Spencer reason to leave you hot and bothered. The bit about ‘the best few months of his life’ made your heart soar once again as you finally looked up to make eye contact with him.

A smile broke out onto his lips when his eyes met yours and he slowly approached you as he rambled on, saying, “And about the whole response to what Derek said. I panicked. He’s usually the one who has all the girls and is some sort of expert love maker or something, and I’m way less experienced than that. So when he brought it up I didn’t know how to respond so I guess I just blurted out what would make me look cool to him. Which I realized was a mistake far too long after, when the team sort of had to give me a reality check…”

Just the next morning after the restaurant incident left Spencer reeling, trying to make sense of what happened between the two of you, the BAU was called out on a case. After the first two days on the case, JJ approached Spencer as they were packing up for the day and asked, “Spence, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-” he tried to say but couldn’t finish as Emily too approached him while putting her hand up and shaking her head.

“You’ve been moody. You don’t get moody for no reason,” she argued.

“I’m not moody,” Spencer defended himself.

“Yes you are, you’ve been off since that night at the Italian place. What happened?” JJ asked. By then more of the team had started to gather around and he noticed that even some of the locals had poked their heads up from their work to listen to what was now looking like an intervention.

Spencer sighed and threw his hands up exasperatedly as he said, “Fine! You wanna know why I’ve been in a bad mood? It’s because she told me to go to Hell and since then I just…I haven’t been able to concentrate. She’s on my mind all the time and I’ve just been trying to figure out what I did wrong so I can fix it!”

“Oh so it’s a lovers spa-” Derek started to say.

“Don’t you go making more comments,” Spencer snapped, which made Derek freeze, the smile melting off of his mouth. “Your ‘love toy’ comment is one of the things that set her off. I know that for sure.”

“Okay so we know that. What else happened?” JJ asked as she took a seat in a chair nearby, seemingly fully concentrated on the conversation now.

“I, uh…” Spencer faltered, feeling awkward about being open about his sex life in front of so many people seeing as how Hotch and Rossi had wandered into the space too. He felt heat creeping up into his cheeks as he blurted out, “We had sex in the bathroom and I had calculated how long I had before you guys got suspicious about what was happening so by the time that limit rolled around I had finished but didn’t have time to get her there but I still left because I didn’t want any of you to know what was going on.”

The response reminded him of the time they all found out you existed in the first place and he struggled to hear all of the comments. “Spencer Reid, you did what?!” came from Penelope. Emily groaned in frustration as she said, “We already all knew what was happening in that restroom!” One of the locals chimed in with, “Oh come on man, you can’t just leave her hanging like that!” “Yeah, you messed up big time,” was JJ’s snide remark as she leaned her head back and rolled her eyes.

The chaotic chorus was interrupted by David clearing his throat to get the room’s attention. When the focus was on him, he wisely pointed out, “I think we can all agree that seeking forgiveness is what you need to do here. Do it right when we get back from the case.” The older man patted Spencer on the shoulder before continuing with, “Life isn’t going to slow down or wait for an ideal opportunity to make things right. If you really want things with this girl to work out, then you’re going to have to accept that there may be obstacles in the way and hurdles you both need to jump over. You have a village behind you, kid. A village that is willing to go to bat to protect both you and those you love. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. The unknown shouldn’t be the reason you hold yourself back from what you really want. So go after her.”

Spencer’s large hands gently took yours into his and when you didn’t deny the touch, he squeezed them and told you, “You aren’t just an object or ‘love toy’ to me. I promise you that.” He took a shaking breath and you looked up to see tears rimming his eyes as he said, “I was just so scared of something happening to you because of my job that I denied my feelings for you. I have been targeted and taken by unsubs before, Hotch’s ex wife who was in witsec was tracked and killed, JJ’s family was targeted just a few weeks after we met… I didn’t want any of those things to happen to you. But I also didn’t want to lose you from my life so I made a deal with myself that we would keep things casual, but I never followed up after that first morning if that was okay with you…”

Tears began welling up in your eyes in response to his words. You knew that he said the job was tough on relationships, but you never thought too into what he was protecting you from… It showed that he truly cared in your eyes. That he had thought this through.

You were too stunned to speak and the dizzy feeling returned in response to all of the new information. Seeming to notice this, he guided you to the couch in your sitting area and asked, “I trust you know what the butterfly effect is?”

“I do,” you confirmed, curious as to where this was going.

“Well sometimes I get to thinking and I wonder what the probability of us meeting would have been if that butterfly hadn’t made you spill your drink on me. Think of it as an actualization of the theory. I calculated that the odds would have been slim to none considering how far off our lines of work are from each other and it makes me sad to think that in virtually every other reality we never met. Because you’ve changed my life. And yes, the sex is great, but so is the conversation! You are always so genuinely interested in what I have to say and it’s so refreshing because a lot of the people I’m close to have gotten tired of my ramblings over the years. I didn’t realize until I didn’t have you in my life anymore that I wanted to come home early from cases to be with you, and not just intimately. I wanted to come home to you in my apartment - what would be our apartment. To bring you flowers and your favorite chocolates. To cook dinner with you and watch your favorite movies. To show you my favorite books and read yours in return! I’m usually one to look at the statistics and facts of it all, but just this once I would like to believe that the butterfly effect is real and that it brought us together.”

“Spencer, I-” you started, but stopped as a quiet sob left your mouth and you covered it with your hand. When you regained your composure, you nodded and told him, “I want that too. So much. I want to come home to you reading impossibly fast through my entire book collection. I want to take trips to bookstores together. I want to make your favorite meal when you get home from a case no matter what time of day it is. I want to properly meet your teammates from the BAU. I want it all. Because I-” you stopped your rambling once more before too much came out.

You didn’t have to worry about it though, because Spencer took the words right out of your mouth as he said, “I love you.”

You felt weightless in response to his confession and you felt the biggest smile break out onto your face before you whispered back, “I love you too.”

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked as he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Always,” you replied, the smile on your lips evident in your voice.

The kiss was the most gentle one Spencer had ever given you and you felt your heart soar and a kaleidoscope of butterflies explode in your stomach once more, reminding you of the day you met. And this time you were sure that Spencer wouldn’t let your soaring heart fall.

After a few moments though, gone was the gentle kiss that brought you two back together. Soon the kiss was filled with need and desire as you finally noticed the reaction that your body had been having to the man who was now under your hips as you straddled him. Desire once more guided your actions as you moved your hips on Spencer’s, feeling his arousal starting to grow as you lapped into each others’ mouth.

A low and muffled groan left Spencer’s mouth as he moved his hands to rest on your ass and began massaging in time with the sway of your hips. At the same time as you began to ask, “Can I-?” Spencer was whispering, “I need-” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth before you began moving off of him and down onto the floor between his spread legs, saying, “I take it we’re on the same page then?”

“Yes,” was his instant response as his lust filled eyes looked down at you on your knees between his legs, your hands gliding up his thighs and to his belt buckle. After getting the belt undone you of course took a moment to tease his stiff member, earning a small buck of his hips and a beg of, “Please,” almost whimpered from his lips.

“How can I no to that?” you asked with a small smile on your lips as you began to unbutton and unzip Spencer’s slacks. When you pulled his slacks and underwear down in one fell swoop, you smiled up at Spencer as you asked, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“A-a few times. Shit-” he moaned out as you began teasing his head with your tongue, focusing on the spot on the underside just below the head that you knew drove him crazy. When you took him into your mouth fully, one of Spencer’s hands flew right into your hair, lightly tugging as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

You bobbed up and down a few times before hollowing out your cheeks around him and as you did, the grip he had on your hair tightened and you let out a low moan in the back of your throat at the feeling. Spencer’s response was instant, letting out a loud moan into the otherwise quiet room that sounded somewhat like your name. Within seconds though, he was tapping at your temple and whispering, “W-wait. Stop.”

You instantly stopped what you were doing, feeling your heart clench at the words. Wiping the excess spit from your chin, you said quietly, “I-I’m sorry did I do something-?”

“No, no, no you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…” Spencer said as his chest heaved. “I want to do this the right way. I want to make love to you.”

Your mouth opened slightly in response to the words as you sat back on the floor, shocked at the implication. Before you could come up with a response, Spencer was pulling you up from the floor and coaxing your oversized t-shirt off, revealing that you had not been wearing a bra this whole time which made him groan as he began toying with your now fully exposed breast. He began kissing you once more and a whimper escaped your mouth as he began toying with your hard nipple and you began pushing at his vest and button up, silently telling him to get rid of them.

During all of this, the two of you began fumbling toward your bedroom, dropping clothes as you went and leaving a trail from the couch to your bed. When the backs of your knees met the edge of the bed, Spencer collapsed on top of you which ended up with you in a fit of giggles as he rolled both you and himself over to be in the bed properly. When you were comfortably on the pillow, you teasingly asked, “So what does love making entail, Doctor?”

“Something more gentle than I usually give you,” he replied as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Something more meaningful,” he added as he pushed in slowly.

The stretch around Spencer was something you needed a moment to adjust to and he gave you time to do so as he buried his face into your neck and let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. This was already a change of pace. Usually the two of you were so needy, he never gave you time to adjust to his size and you always took the sting in stride with the pounding he usually gave you, but this…this was different. It felt new. It was gentle.

Wrapping your legs around Spencer’s waist, you sighed contentedly before whispering, “You can move.”

And so he did, starting off with small thrusts that you were sure he was doing so he didn’t lose it right then and there after the oral you had just given him before you started. But then they transitioned into long and languid strokes, almost completely pulling out from you before slowly pushing back in. At one point Spencer grabbed a small throw pillow you had on the bed and lifted your hips to place it under them and from that moment you knew you were a goner. The angle made it easier for him to hit that spongy spot within your walls and you let out an almost pornographic moan when he did. Over and over again.

“You sound so beautiful,” Spencer grunted out which made you open your eyes to look up at him. You were met with his smile as he reiterated, “You are so beautiful.”

The compliment had your body reeling and you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening as he continued to brush over that spot within you. “Spencer, I-” your words were cut off by a moan when he brought the hand now not supporting his body weight to your clit and began rubbing gentle circles on it. Your breathing began to become labored as the pleasure continued to mount until it was almost too much. “I’m close,” you told him, feeling your core starting to twitch around him as he filled you up so well.

“Me too, sweet girl,” Spencer panted out, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

As cheesy as it is to say, the tender moment was what broke you. A litany of pleasure filled sounds escaped your mouth that were swallowed by Spencer’s as he picked up his pace just the slightest bit as you began contracting around him, your orgasm ripping through your body in the most intense way possible. Spencer followed behind you quickly, burying his head into your neck once more as he moaned out his pleasure between sloppy kisses placed on your throat.

Spencer collapsed slightly on top of you, slightly to the side as he slipped out of you, some of his release following suit as you both breathed heavily in the aftermath of what you would deem the most pleasurable sex you had ever had. With hands wandering in mindless shapes over your body, Spencer mumbled into your skin, “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“I love you too,” you told him with a smile on your lips. You never wanted to let go of this feeling.

A few minutes passed of just basking in each other’s warm embrace before Spencer raised his head and kissed your lips, telling you, “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m thinking that after we shower I can take you to dinner? On a proper date?”

“I would love that,” you replied as he helped you off the bed and into the shower.

That night after dinner Spencer outdid himself with the love making, somehow managing to drag three more orgasms out of you, each more intense than the last. As you laid there in bed that night with Spencer’s arm draped over you, you silently thanked the world for sending that butterfly into your path that fateful morning.

a/n: thank you all so much for the outpouring of love on Casual! i really hope this lived up to expectations that may have been built after the first part! Derek still hasn't been redeemed and Reader still hasn't properly met the BAU team (especially Rossi who was honestly the MVP here), so i'm thinking we'll see each other again in a potential part three? ;)

part three: Right Person, Right Time

taglist: @spicyspirit @misserabella @lillianacristina @lullvu

those who didn't ask to be tagged but y'all were so kind in the comments so i will anyways to make sure you see this post <3 (apologizes if i am overstepping by tagging)

@lilrios-world @theylovemelody @lea24sposts @espressoparis @crazy4books1 @i-live-in-spite @mega-kittyglitter-1 @rumplereids

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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