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aperrywilliams · 5 months

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Douchebag Falls Short in This Case (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find it Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer and Reader can’t have their scheduled lunch, but they keep talking by phone and texts. After Spencer returns from a case, they can see each other again. If Spencer hadn’t been mesmerized with Reader, now he is, and maybe is more than that.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Some strong words. Description of Road Rage Disorder. Talking about bad experiences at high school (nothing explicit). Emily is the best older sister to Spencer.

A/N: The prospect of them having a date was too tempting not to do it. This one is part 3 of “If Anything I Find It Educative” (Part 2 of “It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t”). Let me know your thoughts!!! I’m here to read you guys.

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Spencer's POV

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Me: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. S.R.

Heimlich Master: Yeah. Lunch sounds great. Let's talk about the details later. Good night :)

My face hurts from the big smile I sport right now. Smile that doesn't fade once I get to my apartment.

How did I manage to text her right away? I would never know, but I thank that moment of confidence.

Now I can't wait to see her again on Saturday.

---

I should have known making plans wouldn't work for me. It's Friday afternoon, and I'm on the jet about to take off for a case in Los Angeles.

There goes my lunch with (Y/N).

I grab my phone to type a text to let her know.

Between last night and today, we have been texting back and forth about what time on Saturday works for us and whether I had a place in mind. I did, but I told her it was a surprise.

Now I must cancel, and I can't stress enough my disappointment.

Me: Hey. I'm so sorry, but I'm leaving for a case in L.A. Can we reschedule our lunch? Please don't hate me.

Heimlich Master: Oh, it's okay. Don't worry; of course, we can reschedule.

Heimlich Master: Let me know when you come back. And don't be silly; I don't hate you.

Heimlich Master: Can I ask you for something, though?

Me: Sure. Anything.

Heimlich Master: Can you prevent Morgan from kick-down doors this time? The bureau budget would appreciate it.

I can't contain the snort that leaves my lips, gaining Emily's attention. Bad luck of mine; she is in a seat just in front of me.

Me: I'll do my best. Promise.

Heimlich Master: Thank you. Have a safe flight :)

Me: Thanks :)

Look at me! Even using emojis.

Penelope would be proud of me.

I set my phone on the table to exchange it for the book I chose for this flight. Emily's voice stops me before I can do that.

"So, are you going to tell me why you are so smiling?"

And here we go.

"Me?" I lift my eyes to Emily, who has a smirk on her face. I hate that she already knows what's happening, not even knowing what's happening.

"Sure, genius. I don't see anyone else here so amused and focused on his texts. Not to mention the grin that could illuminate the whole D.C."

"No, I'm not!" I defend—a poor attempt to keep the transparency of my face at bay. Emily scoffs, and that's all it takes to know she doesn't believe me.

"I understand you don't like to talk about your personal life. I get it. And I won't bug you as Morgan would, yet knowing it is related to your love life. But don't try to fool me. It's insulting," she says, the last part faking hurt. That makes me chuckle.

"That being said, I just want you to know I'm here if you need to talk. It's not always good to keep things to yourself."

Not waiting for my response, she picks up the folder with the current case details to read.

I have known Emily for a few years now, and even if we didn't start on the right foot - entirely my fault - she's proven very supportive. Gosh, once she endured a whole beating from an unsub only to keep me safe.

Beyond that, she knows how to talk to me without treating me like a kid. Sometimes, I can't say the same about the rest. Of course, I don't blame them; they've always seen me as the team's baby, but I appreciate Emily doesn't.

"That's the thing. This," I point my gaze where my phone is. "I don't know what it is," I sigh. Emily's eyes are back to me. She sees how confused I am.

"What do you think it is then?"

I don't want to betray (Y/N) 's trust by spilling details about her life, so the specifics of our talks are out of the table.

"I can't deny there is a connection between us. We only met twice—both by chance. But they led us to talk for hours. And I ask myself, am I reading this wrong, and she only sees me like a, I don't know, potential friend?"

"Why would she? She told you she was only looking for a friend?" Emily asks, her hands resting lightly over the folder on her lap.

"No, she didn't. It's a deduction of mine, though. I mean, she recently ended a relationship —a very serious one."

Just remembering the reason that led to that breakup makes me sick.

"Okay. That could be a thing, but not necessarily. Maybe things ended precisely because she wanted something different. That's not bad," Emily hypothesizes. I shake my head.

"I'm not so sure. Let's say she wouldn't have ended the relationship until something big happened. Big enough for her to realize the guy was a total -"I trail off. What would be the right word?

"A douchebag?" Emily offers.

"I think douchebag falls short in this case," I point out. Emily's eyes widen.

"That bad, uh?" I nod.

"She is vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. But at the same time, I want a chance with her. Am I a bad person?"

"What? No! Spencer, don't say that," Emily rushes to stop my spiral. "Far from that. You are considerate enough to see she's in a complicated situation. Most of the men don't even care about that. Cut her some slack, though. She is a grown-up woman, and if she wants to get to know you, why not let her? If she hasn't already, I bet she will see the great man you are. And not only as a friend."

My eyebrows furrow.

"Do you think so?"

"Sure. And for how you describe her, I don't think she is the type to play with people's feelings. Although, I strongly recommend being honest with her. That will prevent false expectations."

I take in Emily's words, and they make perfect sense.

"Thank you, Emily. I didn't think about it like that," I

muse. "Can you do me a favor, though?"

She nods, anticipating what I'm going to say.

"I know. Not a word to anyone. Got it," Emily confirms with a reassuring smile.

---

The heat in Los Angeles for the last three days has been overpowering. Just as catching this unsub has become extremely frustrating.

I'm in the meeting room they lent us to work in, reviewing the details of the case over and over again. The rest of the team is outside the precinct following our latest leads.

My head started to hurt, and I had to close my eyes for a moment.

As I focus on breathing, my phone pings. I open my eyes and see a text from (Y/N).

Heimlich Master: How are you? I read that L.A. has a heat wave; I hope it's not hitting you too hard.

I can't help the smile that pushes the corners of my lips upward.

Me: I'd like to say it's not affecting me, but I don't want to lie. I will survive, though. Please tell me how nice the weather is in D.C., and I'll aim to finish this case as soon as possible.

Heimlich Master: I thought our lunch was enough incentive for you to do that. Now I feel bad.

Oh, fuck. What did I do? Of course, it's an incentive for me. It is THE incentive, actually. I have been thinking about that since Friday when I came here. Now she's assuming I don't care.

How can you be such an idiot, Spencer?

I must fix this immediately, so I hit the call button—a confused (Y/N) answers on the other end.

"Spencer?"

"Hey. I - uh. I decided to call because I needed to explain myself. Please, don't feel bad. Of course, I want our lunch to happen. I wasn't saying it like if I don't. I mean, the heat is fucking insane here, but it's not-"

"Spencer, hey, don't-" she tries to make me stop. Still, I am so determined to say everything necessary to explain myself that I continue my rant.

"What I'm trying to say is-"

"Spencer, wait!" (Y/N)’s firmer voice halts me in my failed attempt at an apology. It's sufficient enough for me to shut up.

"Sorry. What were you about to say?"

"I'm sorry for stopping you, but it sounded like you would run out of air and pass out. Now I feel awful because the last thing I wrote was only to mess with you. I didn't want you to feel like I was accusing you of something, much less that you owed me an apology."

"Oh," I mumble, now making sense of the whole exchange. My cheeks heat up realizing I went from 0 to 100 in seconds. (Y/N)'s voice sounds anxious now.

"Please, forgive me if I worried you that way. That's why I hate texts; I can't control my teasing tone as I do when I talk to someone."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't want (Y/N) to think she did anything wrong, though.

"No, don't say that. I'm not good at - literally - reading social cues. I should have noticed. I just need some practice," I chuckle. I can hear a chuckle on the other end, too.

"Well, since we already cleared up our first miscommunication problem. How are you?"

That sentence shouldn't make my heart skip a beat, but it does.

Get your shit together, Spencer.

"With the heat and the lack of progress in the case, it is a bit frustrating. But we'll make it. How about you?"

"Good, actually. Not the load of paperwork I had last week, and my boss just asked me to prepare a lecture for the trainees in forensic accounting."

"Wow, that's amazing!" I chirp, excited.

"I'm a bit nervous, though. But I'll live," (Y/N) sighs.

"You'll do it great. I didn't know you were into teaching," I muse, remembering our prior conversations.

"I didn't, either. But I've had some previous experiences, and they have been okay. So, the case? That bad, uh?"

That brings me back to L.A. and the case. I was very comfy with my mind in (Y/N).

"He's taunting us. I mean, the police force. But we have a strong profile. One more piece, and we have him," I assure, trying to be convincing enough.

"You guys know what you're doing. You'll catch him, Spencer." (Y/N) sounds like she has no doubt. It fills my heart with warmth because although she doesn't have to put that amount of trust in me, she does it anyway.

"Reid?" I turn to see Morgan and J.J. walking into the room. She hears it, too.

"They need you. You have to return to work," (Y/N) concludes. I let out a sigh.

"Yeah. I have to go," I mumble apologeticly.

"Of course, you're working. It’s okay," she affirms with understanding.

"I'll let you know when I'm done here. Take care, okay?" I whisper into the receiver.

"I will. You too, be safe. Bye."

I can see Morgan's smirk and JJ’s curious look when I hang up.

I know they're dying to ask me questions, but now is not the time, and I don't want to either. So before any words come from their mouths, I hasten to speak.

"Did you find anything? I was examining what we have so far, and I think we are missing something. Look at this," I tell them, pointing to the scattered photos on the table. They look at each other and hesitate to interrupt me or play along. Thank goodness they opt for the latter.

---

Me: Did you know L.A. has an abandoned underground tunnel network? If they are put together, it will stretch out 17 kilometers. They exist due to the Prohibition. When alcohol was banned in L.A. in early 1920, 35,000 gallons of wine were poured into its sewers. But, far from eradicating booze, prohibition pushed its use underground, literally.

Heimlich Master: Wow. I didn't know that. But I'm afraid to ask why are you telling me this. Are you trapped in one of those tunnels, and this is a call for help? [see attached photo]

Me: Ha Ha Ha. Let's say I've been studying those tunnels all day. Good thing we have Morgan and Prentiss to do the dirty job, though.

It's my fifth night in Los Angeles, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The only things that have kept me at least in a decent mood are the texts and short calls I have shared with (Y/N). I've never been very fond of using technology, including my cell phone, but thanks to (Y/N), I haven't even questioned it.

We've been sharing fun facts and memes. If you had asked me a week ago what a meme was, I wouldn't have known what to answer. The word was familiar to me thanks to Garcia, who often mentions them, but now I can say that I know more about them than I would have expected to. (Y/N) is a regular, and I can understand more of her sense of humor because of that. She especially loves the ones with a philosopher dinosaur and those where a woman yells at a cat.

Heimlich Master: How is the case going?

I'm about to reply when hard knocks shake my hotel room door. I hear Morgan's voice on the other side. "Reid! There is a break in the case! Move your ass right now!" Before leaving the room, I texted (Y/N).

Me: Hoping to wrap it up tonight.

Two hours later, we have the unsub in custody, not before running into a frantic chase for L.A. streets. Now, completely wasted, we are packing our things to return home. Usually, when we wrap cases at this hour, we stay until the next morning and then take off. But everyone is so drained that Hotch called to the tarmac saying we’re flying back tonight.

Being already on the jet, I feel like writing to (Y/N), but it doesn't seem appropriate, considering it's 2 in the morning. I refrain and try to catch some sleep, knowing exactly what I want to do first when we touch down in Virginia.

---

It’s the first time I've put foot on the third floor of the Quantico Headquarters. It doesn’t look too different from the others I do know. A bunch of people walking in and out, agents perched at their desks, deep in folders or computers. Phones are ringing, and the sound of copy machines is unmistakable.

But none of that matters right now. I have a mission to accomplish.

After navigating between several desks, I find the one I’m looking for.

“Good morning, agent (Y/L/N).”

At the sound of my voice, (Y/N)’s head whips up.

“Hey! When did you come back?” she asks, seeming confused. The last time we spoke was last night before the unsub takedown, so for her, I still could be in LA.

I check my watch. “One hour and fifteen minutes ago.”

“I hope you slept on the jet.”

“I did. A bit.”

I won’t tell her how I barely closed my eyes, excited about returning to Virginia.

“So, to what do I owe the honor of having you here, Dr. Reid?”

“A crucial matter that can’t wait.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-hu. I have an announcement and a question for you.”

“Oh yeah? Okay, shoot.”

“Morgan didn't kick down any doors during this case.”

(Y/N) snort a laugh. What a beautiful view it is to see her laugh.

“It's what I needed to start my day with the right foot.”

“You're welcome.”

“Okay, that was the announcement. And the question?”

“Yeah, about that. What do you say if we switch our failed lunch last Saturday for having dinner tonight?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Tonight? Are you sure? You just came back.”

She’s inspecting my face, looking for certainty. I nod solemnly.

“Yeah, tonight. Unless you already have plans. If that’s the case, it’s okay. We can do something another day.”

After pondering my offer for a second, a smile creeps in (Y/N)’s face.

“You’re a lucky guy. Did you know that?”

Is it too much to say I’m feeling a lucky guy since I met her?

“I’m realizing now. Pick you up at seven, then. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you my full address.”

After saying our goodbyes, I take the elevator back to BAU. As the doors open at the sixth, I go face-to-face with Garcia.

“Oh, there you are! Everyone was looking for you to start the debriefing. Where were you anyways?” Penelope says, worried about my whereabouts.

Shit. I forgot Hotch wanted to do that quickly so we could finally get over this case.

“Uh. I had to use the bathroom.” I try to sound normal to avoid making a big deal.

“On another floor?” She asks, visibly confused.

Sometimes, my IQ gets lost in my odd way of doing synapses.

What the fuck I was thinking when I said that?

“Did you know the men’s bathroom paper toilet in the seventh is better quality than here?”

Oh, Spencer Reid, please stop.

“Really? I always knew they had more privileges than us. But the paper toilet? It’s infuriating,” Garcia huffs. And I know doing this is not very kind of me, but I promise to explain to her. Not now, though.

“Uh. I’m going to the conference room now. The others are waiting,” I announce, and Garcia nods, ushering me there.

“Yes. Go, go!”

Aside from the looks of 'Where the hell were you?' no one commented on me being late. Once we debrief, Hotch officially closes the case, instructing us to finish the paperwork and head home at lunchtime, which is perfect for my plans. It gives me enough time to prepare for dinner with (Y/N).

I know I look like a teenager, but I don't care.

Around three in the afternoon, I am already in my apartment and have made a restaurant reservation.

I decided to take a quick nap, although I didn't know how much sleep I would get given my nerves. It's not that being with (Y/N) makes me anxious per se; It's the anticipation of being with her.

Maybe I'm expecting too much from this date.

Shit. 'This date' Is this actually a date?

I feel like it is, but for (Y/N), will it be the same?

I invited her to dinner but never told her it was a date. Derek would tell me it is, but I don't want to assume.

Now is when Emily's words ring in my ears: 'Be honest with her to avoid false expectations.'

With her words in mind and the tiredness from the last days catching up with me, slumber finds me after a while.

---

It’s seven pm sharp, and I’m knocking on (Y/N)’s door. I can hear some rustling from inside before the doors open, revealing her frame greeting me with a smile.

“Hey! Just in time!”

“H- hi,” I say, almost breathless after taking in her appearance.

It's true that the first time I saw (Y/N), she was dressed to the nines. It's also true that when I saw her on the terrace that night, I couldn't help but think how beautiful and captivating she was.

The next time was at Quantico. She wore a classic and elegant office outfit, with black formal trousers, a white silk blouse, and a fitted maroon jacket. The image of all the confidence and resolve I bet she has at the job.

But now? My jaw shamelessly drops.

She's wearing a sleek, form-fitting black dress that accentuates her curves and black heels that elongate her legs. A beautiful cardigan wraps elegantly in her upper half. Her hair is styled in loose waves cascading over her shoulders, and she's accessorized with long silver earrings and the same necklace with the compass I saw on her the first time. She looks sophisticated, alluring, and just perfect.

“Let me get my purse, and we can go, okay?” (Y/N) says, jutting her thumb to the inside.

“Su- yeah, sure.”

Great. I’m a stuttering mess.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation. I talked about the last heatwave in Los Angeles, and she annoyed me by telling me about the rain in Virginia last week.

Now I ask (Y/N) if she has a car. It happens that she owns a car but doesn't like to drive.

“I just discovered years ago I don't like it. But I kept the car only for emergencies, which is stupid if I think of it,” she prefaces.

“Why?” I ask, stealing a glance at her.

“Because now all emergencies I can think of entail myself incapable of driving.”

Her laugh fills the car now, and I can’t help but join her.

“Okay, okay. But really, why you don’t like it?” I ask when our laughing fades. (Y/N) clears her throat.

“Uh - are you familiar with the term road rage?”

I nod, not peeling my gaze from the streets ahead.

“Yes, I do. Colloquially known as ‘angry driver disorder,’ it is aggressive or angry behavior exhibited by motorists. These behaviors include rude and verbal insults, yelling, physical threats, or dangerous driving methods targeted at other drivers, pedestrians, or cyclists to intimidate or release frustration.”

A sigh escapes (Y/N)’s lips. “Yeah. That.”

Using the chance a red light gives me, I look at her with an eyebrow furrowed.

“So, do you have RRD?”

She averts my gaze, focusing on the windshield instead.

“I thought I had it. At first, I didn’t give it any importance. I said it was just me trying to adjust to the jungle. Who hasn’t yelled as driving? But there were times when I freaked out of myself and feared doing something more than screeching or honking like crazy. So, I stopped driving for a while. I did my research and learned techniques to get it under control. But since then, I never enjoyed it again.”

A nervous giggle escapes from (Y/N)’s lips.

“Jesus, you are going to think I’m a society threat.”

I shake my head without a second thought.

“Of course, you are not. Furthermore, I find it admirable that you realized it was unhealthy and took action before living a worse experience.”

I see a blush creeping (Y/N)’s cheeks from the corner of my eye.

Not five minutes later, we are at the restaurant parking lot.

Descending from the vehicle, I hurry to (Y/N)’s door and open it for her. Once she is out of the car, I offer my arm so she can lace hers with it.

The hostess greets us at the entrance, and once he checks our reservation, he leads us to our table.

It's the first time I’m here. I chose it because Rossi once said it was perfect for a date.

Again. A date. Something I still don't know if apply here.

A waitress approaches us as soon as we sit, handing us two menus.

“Miss, sir. I’m Emma, and I’ll be at your service this evening. Can I offer something to drink?”

After Emma leaves us with our orders, (Y/N) turns to me.

“Spencer, this place is amazing.”

And she is right. The soft lighting from the small lamps creates a warm atmosphere. The decor includes cozy tables spaced apart for privacy, with comfortable seating and plush cushions. Soft and muted deep reds and browns fill the interior, with classy artwork on the walls. It's really nice.

But above all, the company makes it even better.

Our conversation flows as easily as in the car. It's so comfortable as we have known each other for a long time. And we just met less than two weeks ago.

“Okay, let me get this straight. So you are from Vegas and couldn't bear the L.A. heatwave?”

“I have lived in DC for almost eight years, so I adapted better to this climate.” I shrug and (Y/N) hums.

“You don't get to go there that much? I mean, do you have family there?”

“Just my mom. And no, I don’t see her very often,” I confess—a tint of guilt in my voice.

I see (Y/N)’s face, and I know she wants to ask, but she is respectful enough not to. Not everyone is.

“I’m an only child. And my dad left us when after my tenth birthday. With no siblings, it is only my mom and me. But even if I don't see her often, I write her letter daily.”

I look at her again, expecting the same face everyone gives me when I talk about my family, the one that screams pity. But no, if (Y/N)’s face screams anything, it’s understanding.

“Old school, uh? I’m sure your mom loves your letters,” she says, sipping her glass of wine. I nod,

telling (Y/N) more about my letters to my mom and how detailed she likes me to write them.

“And I think it helped us not to break the bond.” I shrug, taking a bit from the fork. “What about you? Did you say you are not from DC?”

“No. I’m not. I’m from Minneapolis. My parents settled there at a very young age. They were born in the South. I have two siblings: an older sister and a younger brother. My parents are still in Minneapolis, and my brother is, but he lives with his boyfriend now. My sister left for Chicago when she married her fiancee years ago.”

“Do you see them often?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Not quite. Just in holidays or major events. But we call each other often. I always know what happens there, and they know what happens to me here.”

(Y/N) tells me she is not that close with her sister, though. Since she started dating his current husband, they distanced. And that only worsened when (Y/N) moved to DC.

“I’m sorry. That must have hurt.” I don’t know what having a sibling is, but I see in her eyes that she is not okay with how things turned between them.

“Yeah. But neither of us has done something about it. And here is where I need to clarify that stubbornness runs in my family,” she chuckles.

I pull a face, faking surprise. “Yeah, that’s so you can realize who you're dealing with,” she says, pointing her fork at me.

Our conversation bounces from topic to topic until we land on the school phase.

I tell her about what it's like to be a child prodigy in a public school in Las Vegas. The bad things and the not-so-bad ones, because believe it or not, I can see something positive from that time at this point in my life.

“Clearly, I didn't have it as difficult as you, but I am sure we all felt out of place at some point during that time,” she muses, cutting a piece of her dessert with the spoon.

“Did you?”

She lets out a chuckle. “Let's say I haven't been very ‘typical’ in my life, especially in high school. I mean, if following a stereotype was required, mine was quite different from the other girls my age.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “How is so?”

“Well, while my friends dreamed about having a Mr. Darcy-Elizabeth kind of love, I found Heathcliff and Kathy's relationship more appealing,” she stops from her explanation with a snort escaping her lips. “Ha! I should have known it would be a problem later.”

Why do I think other people would know what she is talking about while I don't?

Of course, she sees the confusion written all over my face.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” I pull a face, shaking my head.

“At risk of being disrespectful, uh, no. I don't.”

“Don’t worry. You don't have to, I guess. But if you read Wuthering Heights someday, you will know.”

I will—first thing in the morning.

“But the main idea is that I never expected life would be something close to a fairy tale, you know? I just didn't believe it, and my friends hated that of me.”

Jerks.

It's fair to say that we are so caught up in chatting that we don’t realize we are the only ones left in the restaurant. We do when Emma approaches to ask if we need anything.

After paying the check, we left the restaurant and headed to my car. The ride is mainly silent this time. I don’t want this night to end, and I think (Y/N) doesn't either because of how she bites her lower lip with her eyes trained on the road ahead.

We begin a light conversation for a few minutes after arriving at her building. With the car in parking, I reach her side of the vehicle to open the door for her. I offer her my hand, and she takes it, giving me a warm smile.

“I'll walk you to the door.” She nods softly, “Okay.”

The three floors to her apartment are pure agony in my head. I want to be honest with her, but I also don't want to scare her into thinking I'm a creep or whatever. If she notices my internal dilemma, she doesn't mention it. We reach her door, and (Y/N) takes her keys from her purse. I don't trust my hands and keep them in my pockets as she opens the door. She turns to face me now.

“Thank you, Spencer. I had a great time tonight.”

I see it in her eyes. She is genuine. And my heart skips a bit.

“Me too. Thanks for accepting my invitation.”

My hands feel clammy, so I take them out of my pocket and dry them discreetly on my clothes.

“Of course.”

We remain silent without taking our eyes off each other. Emily's words reverberate, and I know what I must do.

Okay. Here we go.

“Can I - can I ask you something?”

I wish I could speak without stumbling over my words.

“Sure.”

“Would you say that tonight, that is, our dinner - would you say it was a date? I mean, would you classify this as a date?”

(Y/N)’s eyes are trained on me as if trying to follow my train of thought.

“A date? Why wouldn’t I?”

She is still careful but curious about where I’m going with all of this.

“It's just that I never said it was a date when I talked about dinner.”

“So, you didn’t want it as a date?” (Y/N) asks for clarification, and I feel like the stupidest human being on earth.

“No! I did. I do. It's just - I thought you maybe thought of it like something different?”

She narrows her eyes at me. This is not working. I take a deep breath before starting over.

“The thing is, I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong. From the times we have seen each other and what we have talked about in these two weeks, I feel that there is something that feels so good between us, and I wonder if maybe you don't feel it or if you see it as something similar to a friendship. I know things in that part of your life have been messy lately, and I would understand if you wouldn't want anything to do with me, but I can't stop thinking-“

My rant is halted when I notice (Y/N)’s palm caressing my cheek. There is a glimmer in her eyes that makes my heart stop.

“Spencer. You are not reading this wrong. I feel the same way you described it as ‘right,’ even if I’m unsure what it is exactly.”

I let out a dramatic sigh I didn't know I was holding. That makes (Y/N) giggle. I join her with a chuckle myself.

As the giggle subsides, I hold her hand and place it over my chest near my heart. My other hand softly tilts her chin so I can look into her eyes.

“You are amazing; did you know that?” I whisper, and her breath hitched. I flick my gaze between her eyes and her lips. She does the same. And that's what I needed to get the courage and lean in. Slowly, the distance between us gets short, and I swear my heart is going to burst out of my chest. I can feel her breath fanning my face as her eyes flutter close.

And then, our lips met for the first time.

It's slow, and I can taste the sweetness of her lips.

I've never felt something like this kissing someone before, but now that I know what it's like, I never want to stop feeling it.

Her hands go up my shoulders, seeking a grip on the hair at the back of my neck. My hands fly to her hips to pull her closer to me as our kiss deepens. I sweep my tongue over her lower lip, and she parts them to grant me access. One of my hands leaves her hip to cup her face to get a better angle for continuing our kiss. Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me impossibly closer.

I don’t want it to end, but the need for air is too much. After breaking the kiss, we are both panting with our faces flushed and lips swollen.

“Wow.”

“Jesus.”

We breathe out at the same time, followed by a fit of giggles.

Her laugh is definitely my new favorite sound on Earth.

I cup her cheeks and lean again to steal a quick kiss from her lips, and when I’m about to part again, she tightens her grip on my suit jacket lapels and brings me to her lips again.

After two or three more kisses, we lose the hold of our hands off each other, with a wide grin spread on our faces.

“I think we already give my neighbors enough of a show for tonight,” (Y/N) points out, biting her lower lip and peeking at both sides of the hall behind me.

“Yeah,” I mumble as I stroke her cheek, gaze focused on her eyes. “I should get going.” (Y/N) nods. “Text me when you are home?”

“I will.”

After another quick kiss, I muster the will to say goodbye. Wishing me goodnight, (Y/N) enters the apartment and closes the door. I linger there for a few seconds, excited like a child after the best day of his life.

I feel like it is.

Right now? I'm beyond grateful to Hotch for making me attend that stupid gala.

------------------

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klttn · 4 months

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Hi!! I love your writing a lot, especially how you write Vox <3 Can you write something where the reader works for Val and is about to have her first time with Vox, but she's scared about stealing him from Val :(

⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 ｡⋆୨୧˚

— 𝜗𝜚 vox x val x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : val shares his little bunny with vox for the first time but she’s scared it might make them jealous. nsfw. sensitive reader. daddy kink. sir kink. soft dom!vox / hard dom!val. slapping. slight dumbification. bunny!reader. val is kind of a cuck.

“daddy, i’m scared,” your voice timid as you and val approached the gargantuan doors to vox’s penthouse, “what if he doesn’t like me?”

you’d met the man so many times, loved him even, so much time spent with him just by being valentino’s little girl. he’d always watch movies with you n look after you when valentino couldn’t.

but today was different, you didn’t think val would agree to sharing you with vox, he saw how you looked at him, yearned for him. so when val told you vox wanted that to, even for a night, it made you ecstatic. it’s just what if he doesn’t like me?

valentino purred, “look at you cosita, such a pretty thing, what’s not to love?” you blushed at his statement, twirling your hair a little and letting his long tongue lick a stripe up your neck. “mis dos amores, you will love eachother.” he slapped your ass, “even more than i know you already do.”

with confidence, valentino pulled away from his licking endeavours and pushed open the doors in front of you. your eyes widened in awe, the room revealing a sight so alluring, you were trying not to drool.

vox was man spread, softly trailing his own hand up his thigh, drawing all the attention to the slacks outlining his perfect bulge, hard and wanting. you didn’t miss the way it twitched when you both strolled through the door. tucked into those, was a button up shirt, barely there, exposing his collarbones, all the way down to his chest, slightly transparent from a thin layer of sweat, his forearms, veiny and fully exposed with the sleeves rolled up.

“voxxy, look who i brought for you!” val sang, your eyes still fixated on the man in front of you, glued to his groin. “am i the best boyfriend or what, mi vida?” in a way that question could be aimed at both of you.

vox let out a little chuckle, “and that’s why they pay you the big bucks, isn’t that right?” he was stroking vals ego like he was made to, smug smirk forming across the moth man’s face. vox’s gaze shifted, “and what do we have here?” his voice broke your gaze on his thighs. “the needy little bunny, i can’t wait to get my hands on you,” he sighed, “i can’t lie, pretty girl, ive wanted this for so long.” you felt the drag of his eyes on you, searching every inch of your body before you could even show him.

“don’t make him wait any longer, little bunny,” valentino’s hand pushed against your back inching you closer to vox. “show him why you’re my prized possession.”

you took a big gulp before seductively strutting over to the tv headed man, swaying your hips just so, only pausing when you found yourself stood inbetween vox’s thighs.

you tried to be as confident as valentino liked you to be with others but you found yourself shrinking under vox’s gaze, just like you did when val looked at you the very same way.

you turned to glance at val, he could tell how nervous you were by your trembling lips. “it’s okay, conejita,” his voice smooth as silk as he stalked over to you, standing behind you, vox intently watching everything. “he likes you just like i do,” val was now flush against your back, his hands finding their way to your tits, stroking them and freeing them for the other man to see. vox growled. “dumb, ditzy and obedient.”

vals hands were still stroking your body, lifting up the small amount of clothing you had on, flashing more of your soft skin, eliciting soft whimpers from you and horny groans from vox. “val, come on, fuck, i need her.” he reached forward, placing his whiskey on the coffee table and moving his hands to your thighs, caressing and wanting, you could feel the desperation in his touch.

“you gonna be a good little girl for him, cosita?” a pleasing whine left your lips as you nodded your head. “words.” vals grip on your tits harshened causing you to yelp.

“yes, daddy,” you felt vox stiffen, “gonna be so good for him, i promise.” you caught a glimpse of his cock twitch at that, which only went straight to your pussy. he must like that.

you felt the hands on your thighs wrap to your ass, playing with the flesh there, toying and teasing. “come here, little girl,” it was said as a command but vox did all the work, pulling you in by your ass, forcing you to straddle his lap. “good girl.”

a thought plagued you for a moment and vox caught on before you could hide it, his eyes narrowing, he always did know if anything was ever wrong with you. “you don’t have to do this, baby, you know that right?”

“i know it’s just-“ you huffed, struggling to find the words.

“just what pretty girl? tell me.” pause. “tell us.”

“don’t want daddy to think i’m trying to take him from you or- or that you’re trying to take me from him,” weak voice shaking as you spoke, turning to val. “cause i love you n i will always want you n i promise but i just i want this too, n i feel bad cause i want you n i want vox n i just- i want so much but i just don’t wanna make you jealous or mad at me” the men already taking action to comfort you, speaking a million words to eachother through their eyes as you spoke. “please don’t be mad at me.”

valentino laughed. “oh baby, of course not, if i was mad at you or didn’t want this do you really think i’d be this hard,” a subtle thrust gave you the answer. no. “such a sensitive thing.” he found this so cutely amusing, loving how pathetic you were right now. “and maybe, conejita, if that’s how you feel, you can be our little bunny, not just mine, we could share you, love you, cherish you just like i already do.”

your nose twitched cutely, a soft coo from vox going unnoticed. “be together? all of us? you n vox, me n vox, you n me?” your silly head was getting overwhelmed.

“that’s right baby,” val praised. “if he’d like that,” he added, “would you like that conejita?” your eyes went doe like with hope, idea immediately flooding you with excitement, “yeah?” you nodded slowly, looking back to vox expectantly, “we could both own your pretty little body as much as we own eachothers, do you like the sound of that baby?”

“please!” you begged, “vox please,” your begging making vox’s heart pound. both of the men’s hands rubbing soothing circles on you.

“you wanna be our little bunny? yeah, baby?” vox mused, clearly loving the thought of you being his.

“mhm,” you needed them both so close, forcing them to press into you more, your strength pathetic compared to theirs but them allowing the subtle pull non the less. “i wanna be yours, please.”

“i’ll tell you a little secret, bunny,” vox begun, nuzzling himself into your neck, taking in your scent like never before, “that’s partly why you’re here today. when daddy told me you wanted, this,” he gestured to himself, “we both knew us dating wouldn’t be far behind, we planned for this baby.”

“really?”

“really.” vox squeezed where his hands rested, pausing before adding on, “that means you’re mine now too.” you smiled and nodded giddily.

valentino could tell the moment had eased, letting out a chuckle that broke your soft moment with vox, “if she misbehaves, just scare her a little, her pussy will be dripping and she’ll be back to being this pathetic in no time.” valentino winked, his grip loosened as he slipped away, feeling a kiss on one of your lop ears before his touch was gone completely, instigating the sex you knew was gonna happen. but you were too focused on the doting man in front of you to care.

vox pulled his head back, attention now fully onto you, he lifted a hand under your chin, index finger and claw pulling your face closer to his. lips parted and soft, eyes pretty and excited. truly noticing just how beautiful you were up close. it was as if valentino’s absence caused something to shift in vox, dominant nature coming more to the forefront than it already was, “i don’t think you’re capable of being anything but pliant, are you bunny?” vox mused, using his thumb to rub over your bottom lip. “daddy thinks you might misbehave but i think i’ll have you too dumb to even think about doing such a thing.”

vox’s touch was nothing like vals. his was rough and demanding, a constant reminder of power and abuse, control over everything you did. it was poisonous and addicting. but this, this was anything but. his words like honey, so sweet. his touch so soft and intoxicating, it had you drunk on all the ways he could take care of you. the force so gentle you found yourself doing everything he wanted just to see what other compelling words would slip from his mouth and touch from his actions. they were two sides of a coin and you wanted, no, needed it all.

you were pulled from your thoughts as vox’s hand tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m gonna take care of you, little one,” he whispered, deep and guttural, his hips softly grinding into you, “all you need to do is look cute and let me.” his hands now on your hips, guiding you to grind in rhythm with him. “no need for any thoughts in that pretty head of yours, just whimpers and letting me mold your body how i please.” a soft hold on your throat now had you looking at him with glazed eyes, “do you think you can do that, yeah baby?”

“yes, sir,” it was soft in the way that you said it, barely audible but crystal clear to vox, your cheeks were tinting pink and cunt becoming messier the more he spoke.

“sir?” he asked, “god, are you trying to kill me?” you bit your lip, hips still bucking with vox’s, pushing yourself into vox’s touch on your neck. “so adorable,” he started, “barely even put my hands on you and you’re already messy and pliable in my lap,” he cooed, “you’re just begging me to take care of you at this point,” you nodded gingerly, “need a little break from doing all the work with daddy, sweetie, is that it? need sir to get you cock drunk and helpless in his touch, yeah?”

vox words had you hanging off them and you couldn’t get enough of it, his grip moved to your hair, stroking the soft locks and playing with the fluffy ears nestled within it. “please,” your voice was hollow and desperate, your ears were so sensitive and his voice had you feeling dizzy. you felt like you could cry with the softness of his actions, it was everything you didn’t know you were missing with val.

“awh you’re so pretty when you beg, baby, cute little voice so soft i can barely hear you,” he preened, “don’t worry little girl, i’ll look after you.” his hands skated their way to your thighs to stand you back up, much to your dismay. he did it with ease, your face now eye level with him eventhough he was still seated. “but first, i need to get a good look at my new little bunny.”

you did a little spin between his thighs, your hair and floppy ears twirling, tits bouncing cutely as you did so earning a little chuckle from vox. “so, cute,” he muttered. his hands made their way over your body, wordlessly letting them drag over every inch of you, bit by bit sending shivers through you. his touch so alluring it had you melting in its wake, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. he’d go extra slow over the peaks of your nipples, swirling his fingers and rubbing his thumbs over the buds just to hear you mewl for him. right now, you were just as much a drug to him as he was to you.

his hands finally stilled at the hem of your waistband, his head leaning forward to kiss the soft skin before it, “can i see the pretty pussy that’s hiding from me under these?” you nodded. he was asking? for some reason that made your heart flutter.

his hands slid the fabric down your thighs allowing you to step out of them at the end, now left in a little strappy top with your tits spilling out and frilly socks donning your feet, the same colour of your bunny ears. in some way the slight bit of clothing only made the situation hotter.

“just look at you,” it was as if he was talking to himself now, standing up to truly take you in. his touch never left as he admired you, leaving a kiss on your twitching nose as spun you. your thighs now plush against where he himself had been sat, knees touching closed and and arms flailing either side of you. his warmth and smell invading your senses, you could only think of him.

vox’s hands made their way to your knees, rubbing gently, easing your nerves and placing kisses their, “can you spread these for me bun? let me see you?” you looked away in shyness as you parted your legs, slight pressure of vox’s hands forcing them open too, so eager for you. “fuck me,” vox droned out.

“am i pretty enough for you, sir?” you whispered, not daring to make eye contact. beginning to try and close your thighs before vox’s hands could stop you.

“baby, baby, baby, you are the most beautiful thing i’ve ever set my eyes on, don’t you dare go covering up from me, this sight is the only thing i wanna see for the rest of my life.”

your head snapped to look at him, blush creeping up your neck, submitting and letting your legs fall back open

vox was eager, kneeling inbetween your thighs and loitering kisses all along them, eyes never straying from your pussy. “such a cute cunt,” he groaned, reiterating his words with his kisses, “matches those soft tits of yours.” you whined loudly, his words affecting you to the point of desperation.

“keep whining, bunny, it’s not gonna make me go any faster, all it does it’s gets my dick harder.” the way vox said it had you pulling your knees up and spreading further for him, showing him how bad you needed him. “how cute! spreading for me even more, what a good girl, already learning that’s how you should be for me.”

his head inched closer n closer to your cunt, watching the way you’d hump into him, so hopeful for his tongue.

“voxxyyy, are you gonna fuck our little bunny with your tongue or not, even im being teased here, mi vida.” vals voice made you both turn, your gaze now locking onto the man. he was in the corner, in nothing, his wings down, legs spread, hand stroking his cock, precum covering its tip, other hands groping himself, from his balls to his chest. “daddy needs to see their little girl in ruins.”

vox shot a wink to valentino and thrust his tongue inside of you, thumb immediately coming to glide over your clit at the same pace. the action elicited such a pretty high pitched whimper to spill from your lips. the sudden intrusion causing your head to lol back, eyes now glazed with bliss. it was heaven in hell. the long appendage, messy and stretching your tight cunt in a way you’d never experienced, had you fucking yourself back into it, moaning and writhing.

“good giiiirl.”

valentino was about to get the show of a lifetime from his lovers and you were gonna be the main star.

A/N : i love this concept way way way too much hehe <3

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 9 days

Text

What if... too much time has passed?

Instead of running into her in 2007, Natasha doesn't see Katya again until 2018, when she and Yelena manage to break free from the Red Room's brainwashing. Katya isn't as eager to see Natasha again.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 3.4k • Warnings: angst, mentions of unaliving (not detailed) •A/N: I'm calling all my AU stories the 'What if...' series. Very original, I know. This takes place in the BW movie. Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Natasha felt anxious and tense as she followed Yelena around the Budapest apartment, staring at the intricate braids on the back of her sister's head as they argued over the mind control antidote she accidentally brought with her from Norway.

It was hard to process the last twenty-four hours. It felt like it had been a week. The car crash, the suited robot assassin, the glowing vials and the pictures slipped between them, and then standing face to face with her "sister", the one she thought had died years ago.

Mentally and physically, Natasha felt drained. Her body ached with muscle pains and bruises. But the tension in her body kept her sharp, on edge. Always. She had to be.

This apartment brought her nothing but bad memories, chills running down her spine as she remembered the horrible minutes spent here with Clint. It had changed since then. So had she. Being on the run for two years, constantly hunted by the American government, had put a paranoia in her that she couldn't shake. And now it seemed she'd fallen into new danger. Whatever it was had Yelena rushing around to gather runaway supplies.

"Why don't you take it to one of your super-scientist friends? They can explain it to you," Yelena snapped impatiently after Natasha didn't understand her original explanation of the purpose of the antidote. "Tony Stark, maybe?"

Natasha legged after her through the long hallway. "Oh, yeah. We're not exactly talking right now, so…" She trailed off, hiding the pain and loneliness in her voice with a simple shrug. Instinctively, she glanced into the rooms they passed.

Yelena scoffed. "Great. Perfect timing. Where's an Avenger when you need one?" She said dryly, her Russian accent thick, but her sarcastic question fell onto deaf ears.

For Natasha, the world had stilled. She heard nothing but the ringing in her ears and the air flowing in and out of her lungs at a quickening pace.

She stood frozen in the doorway of the master bedroom, halfway down the hall. With a trembling hand, she had pushed the door open further, trying to make sense of what her sharp eyes had seen as she passed the half-open door. It had been only a glimpse, but that brief glimpse of the figure in the bed was enough to halt her dead in her tracks.

Her head spun as she watched the sleeping woman on top of the covers, the edges of her vision flickering with her pounding heart. The woman lay curled up on her side, wearing jeans and shoes like she'd collapsed suddenly for a nap. Her long blonde hair—tied up into a messy ponytail—was fanned out over the pillow she gripped tightly, her toned arm muscles prominent in the black short sleeve that covered her upper body. A large scar ran along her arm.

Natasha felt disconnected from her mind. It didn't want to accept what her eyes saw correctly.

It couldn't be real. This couldn't be true.

Through the shock, she didn't want to believe it, but she'd never forget the curve of her lips, of her nose, the shape of her jaw and the most transparent blue eyes she'd ever seen, now covered by her twitching eyelids.

It couldn't be. She was dead.

Memories of another life came flooding back. Memories she'd shoved into the deepest, darkest drawer in her mind and pretended didn't exist. Ones filled with torture, with hardship and pain.

But also memories filled with light, with warmth and careful laughs, all centered around one golden-haired girl, like she'd been the sun in Natasha's difficult existence. Those were the ones flooding her brain now, nearly making her lips curve up into a smile despite her shock.

It couldn't be. But it was truly her.

Katariina Petrova.

Looking back, she was Natasha's first and only love. Nobody had managed to make her feel emotions so intensely as Katya had, and they were only teenagers at the time, seventeen when Katya suddenly disappeared and Dreykov had told her the girl had died on a mission.

Natasha genuinely thought about giving up then. A piece of herself died with Katya that day. The highest highs of her early life had been because of her, showing her warmth during the barren winter that lasted all year long in Russia.

Natasha nearly crumbled to the ground, swaying as she grasped the doorframe with one hand to keep herself upright. Then the questions started.

How? When? What? Who?

The words tumbled over each other in her brain. Nothing made sense. For eighteen years—eighteen, which is longer than the time Natasha knew her—she believed Katariina was dead. Gone. That she had left Natasha to deal with this cruel world on her own.

But maybe she'd never been on her own, after all.

''Oh, yeah, turned out Katya wasn't dead like they told us.''

Natasha wanted to look at Yelena, who had stopped and watched her from a distance, but she was scared that if she looked away, Katariina—Katya—would disappear into thin air.

Swallowing to grease her dry throat, Natasha's voice came out in a pathetic croak. ''What is she doing here?''

''Long story, but she's seriously messed up.''

Now, that caught Natasha's attention. Reluctantly, she ripped her gaze away from the bed and turned it to a bit-too-casual Yelena, frowning. ''Messed up?''

Yelena tapped the side of her head. ''Something broke her.'' Natasha's heart clenched painfully. Katya was always the stronger one. Where Natasha felt insecure at times, was afraid, Katya never was. ''She was the one who freed me, but she was under mind control twice as long as any of us. You can try and wake her, but this is the first time she's slept in three days.''

That explains why the fight in the kitchen and living room didn't wake her up. Any good spy would have woken up right when Natasha opened the front door, but Katya slept through it all. She didn't even stir with a set of intense green eyes drilling into her.

But then the bedroom window flew open. It slammed against the wall with a gust of wind, throwing over multiple things in the room with loud commotion.

Within the blink of an eye, Katya sat up in bed, the gun in her hand pointed at the noise. All the muscles in her body were tense, ready to shoot, reminding Natasha strongly of a panther ready to jump its prey. The adrenaline had flushed the sleep out of her system in seconds.

When she saw that it was just the window, Katya relaxed, lowering her gun. But then she caught sight of the two people in the doorway, and Natasha found herself in a spot she never expected to be; on the other side of Katya's gun barrel.

Yelena lazily raised her hands. ''Hey, don't shoot the host.''

Natasha would have done the same, but she couldn't move a muscle. Her eyes had locked with Katya's, and she got sucked into those deep blues for the first time in nearly twenty years. They were nothing like she remembered.

Twenty years ago, when they were still living in that hellhole, one glance at Katya's eyes would have been enough to calm her in any situation. They were always confident, in control, serene. They had saved Natasha in countless situations when they couldn't talk out loud or give each other physical comfort when she was so close to falling apart.

But things had changed. Life had managed to affect Katya in a way Natasha never expected. Her once assuring eyes were now filled with panic and fear, and something irreplaceably broken. They flickered with anger when Katya finally recognized the woman in the doorway.

''Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now.''

Natasha was too flabbergasted and confused to enjoy hearing Katya's voice for the first time in so long. The harsh reality of her words clashed too brutally with her inner joy. She hadn't expected a warm reunion, but the hatred that came off her childhood friend was unexpected, to say the least.

Slowly, Katya moved off the bed, her gaze and gun never moving away from Natasha's frozen figure. She tried to hide it, but it took her great effort to move fluently, like a weakness had settled deep into her bones. Once her legs had to carry her weight, she stumbled backwards.

In a reflex, Natasha shot forward to catch her, but Katya tightened the grip on her gun and scowled warningly, pushing herself upright with help of the bed.

All the joy had faded from Natasha's body. Worry made her head spin as Yelena's earlier words bounced around in it. She's seriously messed up. The Katya she knew never stumbled. She could shoot six guys straight in the head while doing a pirouette on one foot.

''I-''

Natasha would never know what words her own brain managed to find, because a loud explosion in the apartment whipped them all into action.

~~Cue BW movie events~~

With a pounding heart, Natasha turned away from her limited view on the metro station below and settled into the rusty vents. Their escape from the half robot assassin had been a close call, with her nudging Yelena and Katya into a space she'd occupied with Clint years ago, but the assassin had followed their false trail into the basement, which gave them a moment of safety. For now.

She looked at Katya. The adrenaline must have kicked in while they were running for their lives, because she had managed to keep up in the way Natasha expected of her. Not a scratch on her. But she could feel the hostility. Katya snapped at her a few times in the heat of the moment, and even now, as Yelena formed a welcome barricade between them, Natasha saw her look everywhere but at her.

The redhead clenched her jaw, exhausted and fed up. ''Okay, you need to tell me why you're mad at me, because I don't know what I did wrong.''

An annoyed frown creased Katya's brows. ''Forget about it," she said sharply.

''No, I don't want to forget about it," Natasha snapped, her anger boiling over. "I spent my whole life thinking you were dead! I mourned you! I thought about you on your birthday!''

An intense silence followed as her words settled in, Yelena awkwardly staring at the ceiling. She'd never admitted that to anyone. She'd never even told anyone about Katya. What they'd had was too special, too intimate to put into words. It belonged in her heart only.

''Or maybe you just wanted me dead.''

Natasha blinked, taken aback by that ridiculous accusation. The way Katya said it so calmly too, like she'd fully convinced herself and accepted that it was the truth. ''Why would you say that?''

Katya finally looked at her, squinting accusingly. ''What do you remember of that day? My last mission?''

''I don't know!" Natasha exclaimed helplessly. Her mind was in too many scrambles to correctly recall it, and she was tired of Katya twisting around the answer. "You left in a jet and you never came back, then Dreykov told everyone you died.''

Katya ignored the waver in Natasha's voice on the last word. ''I nearly did, because you never showed up. You were my backup, and you never came!'' she snarled.

Natasha gaped at her. ''I was–" She confidently shook her head. "No, I wasn't even on that mission.''

''Because of you, I was captured," Katya continued. "Spent years getting tortured by the KGB until they dropped me off on Dreykov's doorstep again. By then, you were gone. Escaped." Her dark chuckle stabbed Natasha right in her aching heart. Katya, tortured? Because of her? "Convenient, isn't it? Got rid of your competition.''

''I was never on that mission!" Natasha hissed quietly, realizing they were being too loud for three people hiding. "I don't know what lies they told you, but it sounds like you were sent into a trap.''

Katya looked away, clenching and unclenching her jaw. Natasha wanted her to believe her so badly, but she also knew that changing her mind didn't happen in one day. For twenty years, she thought Natasha had betrayed her that night. And now she was trapped in a vent with her worst enemy. ''Yeah, because I can trust your word on that. I've fallen for your lies before.''

''Nothing I ever told you was a lie! I loved you!''

The words echoed painfully in the vents, lingering in the silence that followed. A truth, spoken twenty years too late.

Heat clawed up Natasha's cheeks. She couldn't believe she admitted that. Right in front of Yelena too. But she couldn't care about that right now. She needed to reach Katya somehow, convince her. And if that meant pouring her heart out then so be it.

Katya didn't answer. She kept scowling at the wall, keeping her face perfectly unreadable and the look in her eyes hidden.

Natasha wanted to cry and scream. This was not how she imagined seeing Katya again. Yes, even though she thought she was dead, she dreamed of this day in fleeting moments of weakness. After a heartbreaking mission that took a toll on her, or a really long day at HQ, when all she wanted was to be held by someone and disappear into their comfort.

It was faint at first—Natasha only noticed it because she was already looking at Katya; Her body started to shake. It started in her hands and then slowly spread over her whole body. A tremble. Like a dog that had been outside for too long in the cold rain.

''You're shaking again," Yelena said bluntly.

''Yes, Yelena, I can see that," Katya bit back, tightening her arms around her legs to try and hide it. "It will wear off in a bit.''

Natasha frowned, her worry flaring up again. ''Why is it doing that?''

Yelena shrugged. ''It's a trauma response after an adrenaline rush, or something like that.''

''Yeah, jeez, why don't you tell her?'' Katya glared at her friend, trying to put up a tough front, but she was softly rocking back and forth as a self-soothing motion.

''Hey! I'm not the enemy here," Natasha snapped, unable to contain herself as her worry grew.

Katya rolled her eyes. ''Still haven't decided.''

''Where are your pills?" Yelena asked her.

"I ran out."

"Pills?" Natasha frowned, but the conversation carried on without her.

"We have to get you new ones then."

"I haven't exactly had time to steal some," Katya reminded Yelena.

"There's an apothecary on the next street over."

"Okay, why are we robbing an apothecary for drugs?" Natasha interrupted, annoyed with being left out.

"To stop…that." Yelena waved her hand in Katya's general direction.

"It's just a temporary fix," Katya said, tiredness seeping into her every word. "Eventually they'll run out and I still won't be any better. Might as well take em all at once and be done with it."

"I won't be digging the hole. Too much work." Yelena said casually as she checked on the cut in her arm.

"Yeah, thanks," Katya responded dryly.

"No one is dying or killing themselves." Natasha said sternly, her heart pounding loudly at the thought of losing Katya again after just finding her. "We'll get your pills and get you help after all of this is over."

"Help?" Katya raised her eyebrow.

"Doctors, therapists."

Katya chuckled humorlessly, for the first time somewhat of a smile appearing on her lips. "A shrink? No thanks."

Natasha didn't take offense. She wasn't fond of therapists herself, but until her own dying breath, she would help prevent Katya taking hers prematurely. "I'm not giving up on you."

"You did before."

Instead of fighting her on the lie, Natasha shook her head. "And I'm not going to do it again."

"We'll see."

~~ 2 years later ~~

Natasha waited impatiently outside the therapist's office building, checking her watch every few seconds. She was driving herself wild with worst-case scenario thinking, but sending Katya in there could only result in two things: succes, or absolute failure. In the last case, Natasha would never be able to get Katya inside an office again. A lot depended on this appointment.

She swung her head around when she heard the door swing open, a brunette head popping out—Katya had dyed her hair shortly after the both of them had freed the jailed Avengers and everyone was granted a full pardon by the government. The two of them had been living in an apartment in New York City ever since.

"So?" Natasha asked impatiently when Katya walked up to her. Her face was, once again, hard to read.

Katya blew out a deep breath, tightening the belt of her long fake fur coat. "Fucking hell, they really don't hold back on the invasive questions."

The tension fell off her shoulders like a blanket as Natasha laughed, reaching for Katya's gloved hand. The brunette let her intertwine their fingers, a joyful glint in her blue eyes. "I knew you'd like it."

Katya playfully rolled her eyes, letting Natasha pull her away. "It's like being interrogated but without the fun part. Can't play mind games on the therapist."

"You can, but that would defeat the purpose." Natasha gave her hand a squeeze, beyond proud of her girlfriend for giving this therapist a chance. "It'll take some time before you feel more comfortable opening up to her."

Katya turned to look at her, something unreadable yet incredibly vulnerable on her face. "Mhm." She hummed, smiling softly.

Natasha eyed her suspiciously. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What?" Natasha laughed.

Katya glanced down at the toes of her black heeled boots. Natasha was pleasantly surprised to see that Katya leaned more towards a Russian style of clothing when she bought casual civilian clothes for the first time. It suited her. Especially with the Russian accent she didn't bother getting rid of.

"I wouldn't be here without you," Katya said softly. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

Natasha's smile widened. These moments of vulnerability were still rare for Katya, who learned to give more of herself to her girlfriend every day. She didn't take any of them for granted. "I promised."

"Yeah, well, when you made that promise you weren't really in the right state of mind," Katya chuckled.

"You mean your sudden appearance threw my whole world upside down?" Natasha smirked.

"Something like that."

The bell above the door of the small café jingled when Natasha pushed it open, letting Katya step into the inviting warmth of the cozy space first. She did promise her chocolate cake after her session, and she wasn't about to forget that.

"Actually, I think everything was made right that day. We just…" she trailed off, glancing at their intertwined hands. Katya smiled, catching on to what her girlfriend wanted to say. Nothing had ever felt right. Nothing but this. Them, together. That's when everything felt right.

"We have twenty years of lost time to make up for," Katya noted playfully.

"Hmm, you're right. What else did we miss out on?"

"Chocolate cake. Imagine how much chocolate cake I could have eaten if I wasn't enslaved by an evil organization who used me as a puppet." Katya grinned, turning to Natasha when she stayed silent, her eyebrows raised. "Too soon?"

The redhead shook her head with a light laugh. "Yes, but I got the hint." She stepped up to the barista behind the counter, whose eyes grew two twice as big at the sight of an Avenger. "Three pieces of chocolate cake, please."

"Three? You know how to spoil a woman," Katya mused, wrapping her arm around Natasha's waist when she had to let her hand go to grab her wallet.

"They're all for me actually," Natasha smirked as she grabbed a twenty, Katya watching along over her shoulder.

"Is that a picture of me?"

Natasha's heart skipped a beat. "What? No," she scoffed, quickly closing her wallet. But Katya snatched it out of her hands and opened it, her face lighting up at the small polaroid of herself, stuck in the transparent compartment of Natasha's wallet.

"Aww, it is! You have a picture of me in your wallet!"

Natasha snatched it back just as quickly as it was stolen from her, her ears burning. "Give that back. Before I cut off your fingers and put those in my wallet instead."

Katya laughed, resting her chin on Natasha's shoulder. "Empty threats."

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow #wlw #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x original character #fanfiction #marvel #mcu #wattpad

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blossombriefs · 8 months

Text

Agora Hills | A Goku OneShot [NSFW]

Authors note: hey guys! Be sure to drop a follow and a like! The support goes a long way! I'm also happy to take requests - please be following me and shoot me a message. I can work of prompts such as songs, locations, colours, scents. Give me a brief description and the characters you'd like. This also has potential for a fully smutty part 2 so if that's something you'd want to see let me know! Prompt: Doja Cat's song 'Agora Hills' "who's that man with the big strong hands?" "You're the one you're the only man, me and you on my OnlyFans" Summary: The reader is an OnlyFans model and after being threatened at a party has to come clean to her boyfriend, Goku Content: afab!reader x Goku, mature themes, blackmail and drama (Vegeta being a total asshole), mentions and details of anxiety, story heavy, soft smut near the end Word Count: 2836 words

Times had been a bit financially straining on you since you tried to settle down with Goku. You both shared a lovely home and with plans to start a family together, you needed to find a source of income to start planning ahead. Goku was constantly off either fighting insane battles on faraway planets or was off training with his friends. Sure, you could have just looked for something in your local area like in a store or on a farm, but when Bulma encouraged you to look into the site OnlyFans, it piqued your interest. Bulma is the best source of motivation you have. You were a little unsure about it but with her lovely compliments toward your appearance, you couldn't help but try it.

You had set up a tripod with a ring light in the corner of your spare room to get the perfect shots, using your phone to capture so many pictures of you in cute lingerie sets you had. You also used a couple of your boyfriend's t-shirts for a baggier look on your body. Your income was plentiful as your platform grew and grew. It covered bills, put food on the table and even left some over for you to treat yourself and Goku. However, one question always lingered in the back of your mind.

"How long can I keep this hidden from him?"

You hated keeping secrets from Goku, transparency was such a huge foundation your relationship was built on. He was always honest with you, would this hurt his feelings?

On one of the evenings he had free, Goku had invited you along to a gathering at Krillin and Android 18's home. Everyone was going to be there and you could tell from his eagerness that he was excited for you to finally meet the rest of his friends. You felt that it had been a long time coming and you put so much effort into how you looked while Goku sported his traditional orange gi. Hopping onto the nimbus cloud, he held you tightly as it whisked you toward the Kame House. As you approached your destination, you were both greeted by waves as everyone gathered outside on the beach. You nervously held onto your boyfriend's arms as he waved gleefully to them all, keeping the same wave and smile through your descent. You both bounced off together, greeting everyone. Going around everyone, you were introduced to his friends one by one.

"Y/N this is Krillin and 18," he extended his hand toward a slender, tall blonde woman and her opposing counterpart. You smile as you shake their hands and introduce yourself. Gradually he made his way around the rest of his friends; Master Roshi, Piccolo, and Yamcha were part of the introductions. Finally, your attention was directed to Bulma and her partner, who you hadn't yet met. He stood beside her with his arms folded over a buttoned up blue shirt, his aura nothing short of intimidating.

"Y/N, you haven't met my husband Vegeta yet have you!" Bulma chirped, taking his arm and yanking him toward you and Goku. You smiled at him timidly, admitting you were kinda afraid of him wouldn't have been the best first impression in your mind. You could sense him looking you up and down, choosing to address you with a scoff.

"So this is Kakarot's harlot, yes?"

You looked to Bulma in disbelief as her hand slapped his shoulder harshly. Goku was quick to wrap his hand around your waist as he spoke up, "Hey, c'mon Vegeta you know that's not very nice!"

He simply huffed in your direction as he followed the rest of the group inside, Bulma not far behind screaming an earful toward him. You felt uneasy, Goku rubbed your arm to try and ease you. You weren't someone to take comments like that to heart but something just didn't feel right. You all took your seats in the living room and for the most part the evening was going well. You all shared some drinks, had a laugh, shared some food. You hit it off so well with everyone that you felt like you were part of the family... all besides one person.

Crossing paths in the kitchen, Vegeta glared you down as you look a fresh glass from the cupboard. When you sat it down again to pour another drink you glanced back in his direction, "Can I help you?"

"Don't think I don't know your secrets," he slowly walked toward you, you felt as if he hadn't uncrossed his arms from your initial introduction. If looks could kill Vegeta would've buried you 100ft underground. "You know your vulgar acts aren't suited to him, that clown deserves a woman with a bit more self respect."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you retort. Your hands shaking as you unscrew the lid from the top of the bottle. Deep down you knew what he was referring to but how did he know?

"That woman runs her mouth to me about everything," his reply was cold. He turned his back to you and began walking toward the door that led to everyone else. "You tell him or I will."

A shudder ran down your spine. The tension left behind lingered with his words. Your heart raced, the weight of your secret growing heavier on your shoulders. You took a moment to collect yourself as you decided Vegeta couldn't be the one to tell Goku. Just as he was about to reach the doorway, you spoke up and the tone in your voice was full of determination.

"Wait, Vegeta please." you plead as you set the bottle down. He turned to look back in your direction with his arms still crossed and his expression staying cold. You look to your feet, "I'll tell him but please could we continue this conversation outside."

Vegeta continued to eye you for a moment, his pride more than evident, but eventually he nodded. Hoping you had cracked him he turned away and led you out the back door to the beach, the soundtrack to your serious conversation being the crashing waves of the sea. You lowered your voice and spoke soft, revealing your own vulnerability beneath what you were portraying as tough, "I never intended on keeping anything from Goku. It's just complicated and I never knew how to bring it up."

His response was a shake of his head and a scoff as he stared you down intensely, "He deserves to know what kind of person he's with, that woman refuses to tell him. I don't even understand what it is you're up to! Y-you're lewd-"

"I have an OnlyFans account," you confess with a deep breath. "It's just a way to bring in some money for us and I just didn't want him to worry about our future. I never intended on disrespecting him I-"

As his scowl deepened and his silence remained, you could tell he was taking in what you were telling him. Wether he'd allow you to tell him yourself or not was on the table was another story. He grunted and without allowing another word to leave your lips, he turned and walked back inside with you close on his heels. Your heart felt heavy with what could follow. You didn't know what would be said. You reentered the living room, Goku glanced at you with a sweet smile, blissfully unaware about the conversation you had just had as you took your seat beside him.

The living room buzzed with conversation and laughter but as you cuddled into Goku's strong arm the weight of the conversation with Vegeta was weighing on your mind, you could feel his intense gaze follow you from the other side of the room as you tried to settle in. A silent threat that you had to tell him sooner rather than later.

As the evening continued, you'd engage in small talk with the others to try and keep your composure but what made your heart feel warm was seeing how happy Goku was. He's an incredibly social person, much more than your average person, and was more than happy being in the company of his friends. After a while, Bulma pulled you into the kitchen. She had noticed how reserved you had become throughout the night and was growing concerned, "Is everything okay?"

You nodded with a forced smile, "Just a little burned out and tired, that's all."

She looked at you with sympathy, placing her reassuring hand on your shoulder, "You sure? You know you can tell me anything, right? If it's because of Vegeta's comment earlier I can always talk to him?"

You shook your head and smiled gently, "Thank you Bulma, honestly, but it's fine! I didn't take it to heart."

You lied through your teeth but she bought it, patting your back as she left you alone with your thoughts. Your anxiety was gnawing at you, you knew what loomed ahead.

As the night gradually wound down, Goku yawned and stretched as he turned to the remaining few people left. With a thankful smile he suggested that you both head home. He stood up, spinning you in his arms to face him. "You look beautiful. You're perfect. Your dress you picked is so beautiful I just can't wait to get back home."

You beamed looking up at him, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. He smiled as he kissed you back in return. However, your loving moment was interrupted by none other than Vegeta.

"I bet you won't be the only man to see what's under that dress tonight, Kakarot," he smirked.

You looked up, witnessing the glee in your boyfriend's face shift into shock. The panic surged through your body as you clung to him tighter, Vegeta's words hanging in the air. You looked towards him with a disapproving look but Vegeta remained totally unfazed, his arms crossed and a sly grin plastered on his face.

"What are you talking about, Vegeta?" Goku furrowed his brows, his hands slipping from your waist.

His response was sharp, leaning in with a wicked glint in his eyes, "Oh, nothing, Kakarot. Just saying that some things... or some people... aren't as pure or nice as they appear."

The air was heavy with tension, your throat was running dry as tears began filling your eyes. Bulma stepped in between the two men swiftly, placing a hand on her husband's chest, "Vegeta enough. Stop it! There's no need for this you're making the poor girl cry!"

Goku's face was still taken over with confusion, turning his attention from Vegeta to you. You could hear his own worry take over, his eyes like a puppy's, "Baby what's going on? What does he mean?"

You were hesitant and unable to string your words together. Again, stealing your opportunity, was Vegeta, "Ask your precious partner about her little online endeavors. She's not as innocent as she appears."

You sigh, placing a hand gently against his chest as you look up towards him. Taking a deep breath and your voice was trembling, "Can we talk when we're home about this Goku, please."

The arrogant Saiyan prince wasn't done. It wasn't good enough for him. Purely with a sarcastic tone he chimed in once more, "Oh, how touching. Wanting to keep things private now? The woman who claims she loves you oh so much is selling herself online for a few extra zenies! Showing herself off to other men, tarnishing your trust."

Unable to process what he was being told, he hung his head as he let go of you entirely. Your arms dropped from his shoulders. He sighed gently, "I'll be outside Y/N. When you want to come home come meet me. We'll talk about this at home."

"Goku plea-" your words couldn't stop him from leaving, slamming the door behind him. You couldn't do anything but tremble. You knew why Vegeta did this, he loved seeing Goku weak or vulnerable. You also knew Bulma wouldn't let him live this down. You smiled sadly in her direction and thanked your hosts, leaving behind a now perplexed group of friends. Sat in the sand outside, creating little patterns in the sand with his finger, was your boyfriend who sat in an overwhelmed silence. You took a deep breath, shuffling in the sand beside him which left your dress covered. The beach was serene at night, the waves crashing against the shore heavy at the other side. "Please, let me explain,"

He sat in an almost child-like silence, his eyes fixated on the shapes he had drawn. The gentle sea breeze carried your tension and sadness. You had never seen him so hurt, it was all your fault. He looked up at you with tears starting to form in his eyes, "I can't believe you'd cheat on me with Vegeta..."

"Goku what?" you said, shocked. "I just met him today?"

"Look, Y/N, I love you. I don't want to lose you. If you've been chatting with him online and-"

This is where everything clicked, Goku had no idea about OnlyFans and what the site was. He took Vegeta's words at face value. You shook your head and cupped his face in your sandy hands. "Baby no, it's not that. I have an account on this website where I sell some pictures of myself and it brings us in lots of money."

Goku wiped his eyes, blinking back anything else that could spill. "What do you mean?"

"These men that buy these pictures don't see me in person. They don't touch me. We don't have sex. It was just an easy solution to our money problem and I'm sorry I wasn't honest. Vegeta knew because Bulma told him. I can't be angry at her for that..."

"So-so you're not sleeping with other people. He made it sound so filthy."

"I can show you what I do when we're home." you reassure him. His face softened as the weight of the misunderstanding started to lift from his shoulders.

"I should've trusted you, I'm sorry." he whispered. You held him close to you, you thought through that night you could've lost him.

"I should've been honest from the start, I just didn't want you to worry. I'd never have wanted to have hurt you."

As he gently pulled back from you he summoned his nimbus cloud. Kissing your forehead gently he softly spoke, "I just want to understand everything. We can move forward together afterwards can't we?"

You nodded gratefully at his understanding words. Together, you climbed aboard your transport home. You could tell from the way he held you that he was still skeptical and his emotions were mixed. You wanted to do your best to help him understand.

Once you arrived back to your house, hand in hand you led Goku upstairs to show him the tripod and ring light set up in your spare bedroom. Sitting him down on the bed, you ran through how the site worked. He nodded along taking in every drop of information. You shown him how much income you brough in each day and explained what everything went to. Finally, you handed him your phone to look through the photos. His eyes widened in a gleeful way as he began to flick through them.

"Babe, you look smoking hot in these!" he beamed. You could feel the negative tension lift off your relationship and a new tension start to brew. Looking up with a smirk, "Can I help sometime?"

"You wanna help?" you gently smile. He nodded his head fast. His hands wandered to the front of your strappy dress, carefully slipping it down to reveal your bouncy, perky tits to him. You flushed red a little. Once your phone was propped up on the tripod, you posed for a few photos with your ever supportive boyfriend. You tried letting him control the ideas, however his Saiyan instincts were close to kicking in and wouldn't leave much time for many pictures. He stayed behind you in most of the shots, cupping your breasts with his big, strong, calloused hands or encouraging them down to play with your pussy. You hadn't done anything sexual on your account yet and allowed him to assist with teasy photos. His hands grabbing your ass, his hands squeezing your thighs. He was giving you the content that could only grow your platform more.

He gently left little bites and bruises on top of your breasts, neck and shoulders. With a cocky grin and a chuckle, he whispered in your ear, “Now they’ll know you belong to me.”

Finally, he took some of you sitting on top of him. You gently straddled him as he slipped his fingers in your mouth for the final shots, your spit dripping down his hand as he looked up at you in pure amazement.

"That's my girl," he said with a gently slap to your ass. You tilted your head gently as you looked down at your strong, sexy boyfriend pinned under your thighs.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"When can I fuck you for all your fans to see?"

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #anime #fanfic #goku x reader #goku #son goku #dbz #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine #x you #bulma #vegeta

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seawardboundsammy · 4 months

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after many months of work, I reveal my magnum opus. The Sidestep Battlejacket.

pov: ortega seeing sidestep whole for the last time

Holy shit! It's finished!!!

This was my final for my costume design class and it took. so long. Weighing in around 800 pounds in faux leather and spikes, this is by far the most polished and focused battle jacket I've ever made. also noting that typically i wear big glasses! i just had to show off sidestep's eyebags (my hair is always teal though! ult fave color). The prop gun is a nerf gun covered in so much paint.

This design is based off my sidestep Arbor's suit combined with the dog themes sidestep has (eg: bite the hand). More thoughts and wips under the cut!

So this jacket has actually existed in some form since 2020. I bought this leather jacket with the intention of covering it in studs and spikes and then i petered out half way through. Then, after sitting in my closet for 4 years, i finally started back up on it.

These images were my gospel through the project. The design on the left was made a while before and then you can see in real time how i developed my ideas. I had the idea of the front side being "sidestep" and then the back side with the teeth being "retribution/vsona". like a mullet of trauma. the gun was made to match the organic flowing designs of the jacket, to fit the arboreal theme.

the painting of the teeth was a painstaking process filled with much masking tape and clean up. the arm stripes were free handed in a mad dash to the finish. I used Angelus Leather Paints (which i bought WAY too much of, a little goes miles also its so good not sponsored its just good paint) and every section got two coats of white and two coats of teal. The only exception was the orange which is much more transparent which took more coats and hand cramping with those letters. (which btw! no stencil! just moving my brush around all silly style).

i really wanted a prop to make the jacket into something that actually feel like a cosplay, so i hunted down the most sci-blaster nerf gun i could find on amazon and threw gallons of paint at it. the experienced among you may note that nothing wants to stick to that smooth of plastic, but with a solid sanding and angelus acrylic hardener i made it work. originally there were more stripes but it looked busy. there were also going to be two charms for charge and anathema but i um. forgor.

unsanded vs sanded (and some acetone to remove paint) vs final

the hood! good god that hood. that was ripped off an old hoodie and then i found a shirt at a thrift store that just happened to match the color perfectly. its. attached. if you know anything about sewing, please look away from this evil seam. the purple is just to keep it from fraying btw, the actual connection to the jacket it with a much thinner thread in big stitches as to not weaken the faux leather too much. also you can see where i was testing the paint lol.

if you read to here, thank you!! im so proud of this thing and i cant wait to wear it everywhere (when the weather allows.) have a sleepy steppy as a treat for sticking around

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gyusfavlibra · 2 months

Text

DON’T CALL ME THAT | JOHNNY SUH IMAGINE

PAIRINGS: female YouTuber! x Johnny suh!

Warnings: slight angst, fluff

"What's up yall, welcome back to my channel. If you're new here, my name is Y/n. And welcome to my YouTube.

So the idea for today is to pull a prank. If you're on my channel a lot, you know I pull tons of pranks on my boyfriend and family.

We're both really big joksters so I really like to just take every opportunity possible to get him before he gets me.

So as of now, Johnny is playing video games with a few of his best friends online. I wanted something that would lower his mood for a better reaction but something he wouldn’t take as serious after I reveal that it’s a prank.

Now, if you follow Johnny and his group, NCT, then you know they all love to call each other "bro". Johnny and I don't really have big pet names besides our nicknames and "babe". I just think they're weird, but I have never once called him bro so he'll definitely notice right away.

At least I'd hope so. I'm gonna just try an play it like like normal. Act like I did nothing wrong and go from there. I think we'll get a very good reaction which will be great, because that's what we want.

So before we start, like and subscribe. And leave prank ideas down below for next time.

*transition😐🖕*

Setting up a camera, Y/n made sure it could record the part of the room they both sat on. It captured a wide view of the area. Pleasing the wanted expectation.

Giving the camera a thumbs up, Y/n sat on the bed, placed behind Johnny's small gaming set up with his PS5 and computer he used quite a bit. Whether it was work or just free time fun.

Minutes had passed before Y/n decided to actually start anything. Giving the mood a moment to chill before it got tense.

She sat in a laying down position so her side was aligned with the camera sat on the dresser. Tapping the busy guy on the games' shoulder, she pointed to her blue transparent water bottle on the desk. Johnny uncovered one ear.

"Can you please hand me that?"

Obeying her question, Johnny picked up the closed item and handed it over. "Thanks bro."

The words kind of echoed in his ear. Causing his eyes to linger on hers for a second before ignoring it and turning back to the game. Y/n looked over to the camera and snickered. She didn’t think she’d have this much excitement jolting through her body so fast. But she was definitely wrong.

She motioned a shushing action to the device before pretending to act serious once again. Y/n scrolled through a couple things on her Instagram discovery page before calling out.

"Hey bro, do we have any ramyeon left? I’m so hungry.”

Johnny stated a hold response to the online gamers he played with, and turned around. He pulled a headphone piece off one hear and looked dead at Y/n looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"What?"

He decided to chuckle. "What'd you say?"

"I asked if there was leftovers? I’m hungry.”

He didn't reply instead glared at her with the fake smile he tried his best to keep plastered so Y/n didn't think there was something wrong. "Bro, what?"

"Y/n, don't do that," he dryly laughed again.

It took everything in her to not laugh herself. Which the need successfully passed but who knew how long before it does a 180 and comes back.

"Do we have ramyeon or not?" the individual asked, pulling at her bottom lip.

Johnny puts the ear piece back on and waved his hand at Y/n. "In the fridge."

"Thanks, bro."

The boyfriend sighed. Rubbing his hair through his dark brown hair. The fake smile was now far gone. Not liking the friendly pet name. Y/n climbed off the bed and quietly grabbed the camera. Running off to the kitchen, sure to shut the door behind her.

"Alright, so far so good guys. He's just laughing it off for now, which most of you guys know that Johnny will fake laugh when he’s uncomfortable. Or kill you with his sharp look. And the laughs he was doing were definitely fake. Like he was upset and wanted to say something more serious, but didn't wanna start a mess or create tension. So we're good so far."

Even though grabbing food wasn't apart of the plan, Y/n grabbed some actual food anyway. Also noting that if she didn't, he'd question it.

Y/n was sure to hide the camera in the kitchen just in case he came out or the scenes moved to another area since the view in the kitchen overlooked their whole shared apartment. That included, dining area living room, and the hallway which led to their bedroom and bathroom.

Minutes had passed of Y/n preparing food, Johnny had noticed her timed disappearance and came out into the food area to view her hungry progress.

"You want some?"

He shook his head. Instead grabbing a soda out their cooled containment. "Okay, bro."

Y/n sat in a chair at the dining table. Beginning to chew away at her food. Johnny clapped his hand down on the counter with a huff before joining her.

"Damn, brooo, this is so good, bro."

He stared at his phone blankly, wanting so desperately to address his issue, though he held it back for a second. But only for so long.

Y/n, stared at something random before giggling then placing a fist over her lips. "BROOOOO, LOOK AT THIS!"

She turned their phone to Johnny, showing a fanart piece of one of his bandmates. He nodded to the art piece and flicker his orbs to his lover. "Damn, bro, that was so cool."

He tossed his phone down onto the glass table.

"Y/n."

"Hm."

"Why do you keep doing that?"

She stared at his blankly. Mouth full of chewed food. "Doin’ what?"

"Don't act clueless. You know what you're doing?"

"Do I? I thought I was just enjoying my food and looking at art. Bro, like, what's the problem?"

"Y/n, stop fuc- stop doing that."

"Bro," she set her chopsticks down into the bowl of noodles. "Seriously, Johnny, what am I doing?"

"Don't call me that."

"What? Johnny?"

"No. The other thing?"

She looked around, pretending to not know exactly what he was talking about which made this even funnier. She almost laughed but pulled it off by clearing her throat then drinking water from the glass beside her.

"Bro, I don't get it-"

"Y/n, don't call me that. I'm not kidding."

"Call you what-"

"Bro," he exclaimed. "Don't call me bro. Seriously don't do that."

"Bro? Why not?"

He shook his head. Pulling her bowl of food into his direction. "You don't get to call me bro.

"Why?"

He stole a bite. Passing it back. Johnny swallowed the food and waved his finger side to side. "Only friends call people bro. We're not friends."

"Uh-," she hiccups. Holding a hand over her heart. "We aren't friends?"

"No. We are dating. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Lover and lover. You're not suppose to call each other "bro"."

"But I like it."

"I do not care. Don't do it again."

"Bro, wh-"

"Y/N! STOP!”

She giggled. Holding her hands out with a shrug. "WHAT? There's nothing wrong with it!"

"There's everything wrong with it! If you don't wanna call me babe, love, or whatever then call me by my name or anything, but do not call me bro. I hate it."

"Mark does it?"

"Mark is my friend."

She sat back, a good tiny idea popping in her head. "Wait, so If I break up with you, I can call you bro?"

Johnny went into full blank space mode. Absolutely shocked by her question, even more shocked that she would even have the guts to ask him that, let alone think of it.

"Stop. It's not funny.”

"Bro, I'm just-“

Johnny arose from the table, grabbing his phone to shove it into his pocket. He exited the room which caused Y/n to laughed out loud. Finally not able to hold her laugh in no more.

"Wait! Bro, Johnny!"

Grabbing the camera, she ran into the bedroom where he had previously gone. Sitting back in his gaming chair. She came up behind him and wrapped an arm around him from behind, placing a kiss on his cheek. Which he seemed numb towards. "B-"

"Don't-“

"I'm not. I was gonna say babe. Look, it's just a prank. Look-"

"Stop," he nudged his head to the side. Y/n laughed again, peppering kisses on his cheek. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Forgive me!"

"No."

"Awe man, guess I'll give my love to someone else.”

"You gonna call them bro too?" he asked, followed by a chuckle.

"Please forgive me!" she yelled in tiny. Nuzzling her nose on his cheek. Johnny turned to look at her. Noticing her beautiful giggly side that he couldn't lie, he did love it very much.

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

His cheeks began turning a bright pink. "Again."

"I love you."

"Okay, you're forgiven."

Johnny grabs the camera holding it outward so they could film the outro together. But his idea of that scene was different than a usual one.

"Okay, she got me yall. I was mad. Like and subscribe. Comment team Johnny because I will get her back later on. Just saying."

"You're mean.'

Johnny smiled and pecked her lips. "And that's the outro. Bye bye."

#johhnysuh #nct #nctimagine #kpop imagines #johnny suh x reader #nct127 #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #johnny suh x you

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buglaur · 2 years

Text

tutorial contents:

1 ‣ gshade & photoshop actions 2 ‣ template or cropping & colouring 3 ‣ notifs & pop-ups

okay hi! i have a really old editing tutorial from back in january that i've been linking people to, but it's pretty outdated by now. i also keep getting anons asking about the same things, which is fine, but i always have to go searching for the post explaining it, so having it all in one place will be a lot more convenient lol

i use a ☠ copy of photoshop cc 2017 to edit my screenshots, however the majority of everything i'm doing also works on photopea

photopea is an online version of photoshop that's 100% free and works very well! i can't recommend it enough, it's fantastic

first things first, you're going to need some screenshots to edit. for the sake of this tutorial i'll be working with this one of raffy:

in all honesty, gshade will do most of the work for you. of course it's not needed, but i definitely don't think i could live without it! in this screenshot i used sunset n' vinyl by nesurii

when opening the screenshot, the first thing i do is run it through 2 photoshop actions:

butter action by early-grape

smooth sharp (no topaz) by poolbrop

to add actions in photoshop go:

windows > actions > the 4 lines at the upper right corner of the newly opened window > load actions > your downloads folder > open up the .atn files!

if you're using photopea, as far as i'm aware you can't use photoshop actions, but i've found that 'filter > stylize > oil paint' and 'filter > sharpen > smart sharpen' have a very similar effect when using the right settings. try these:

i like these two actions because they smooth everything out nicely, but keep it sharp at the same time! i always run butter before i run smooth sharp, however butter may leave you with 2 layers. make sure to merge these layers before running smooth sharp to achieve the full effect.

here's a before and after (of the photoshop action):

from here you can move on to step 2

before anything else i want to share the template that i use to make editing a lot faster. you don't need to use it but it's definitely made things a lot easier for me! it's a .psd file and will work perfectly in photopea

download (simfileshare)

if you're using the template you can skip right on to the next section, as it's already cropped to the right size and has the colouring folder included. just drag your screenshot into it and resize to fit the height.

if you're not using it, crop your edited screenshot to:

1707 width x 1280 height

then adjust the colours to your liking. it always varies slightly depending on the picture but my regular process for each screenshot would be:

up the saturation by 8%

up the lightness by 3%

up the contrast by 12%

all of this can be done by looking in the 'images > adjustments' tab

you should end up with something similar to this!

if you want to add a moodlet or social interaction or anything similar, it's all the same process. what you'll need is a screenshot of it straight from the game. i just press the 'c' key to capture them! i'll be working with these two:

for the blue notification i'm going to select it using the box select tool. try to get it as exact as possible. one you have it selected

for photoshop users:

click on the 'select and mask...' option located at the top

adjust the global refinements at the side as follows:

smooth: 70 feather: 0.0px contrast: 50% shift edge: 0%

for photopea users:

go to select > modify > smooth

set it to 15

select 'ok' and press 'ctrl + c' to copy it, then 'ctrl + v' to paste it into your screenshot. adjust the size and position and you should end up with something like this:

next you want to add the transparent border around the notification. if you're using my editing template, right click on the reference notif in the layers tab and select 'copy layer style' (photopea > 'layer style > copy'). from there you can paste that layer style onto your own notif through the layers tab.

if you're not using the template, here's how to set it up on photoshop:

right click your notification layer and select 'blending options'

under styles, tick the checkboxes for stroke and drop shadow

input these settings:

on photopea, it should be more or less the same. repeat the exact same process with the social menu option, but instead of selecting it with the box select tool, use the magic select tool. in the end you should end out with this!

from here you're finished! thanks for reading! go to file and export as png

if you've got questions never hesitate to ask, just make sure to read the faq in my pinned. i might edit this post soon to include the gen intro traits and aspirations bit, but this is all for now. hope it helps, my editing process post has been in need of a revamp for a very long time. i haven't proof-read this so apologies for any mistakes!

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 tutorial #5 anons in my inbox asking the same question after not reading my faq #this ones for you #3 anons in my inbox asking about cas pics #ones coming for you soon #okay maybe not soon but sometime #all my free time has been eaten up #i signed up for extra saturday morning classes and not having a lie in is sucking the life out of me lmao #when i'm busy i just wanna play video games and when i get the chance #to play games i just wanna sleep #its a vicious cycle #i'm currently playing resident evil biohazard tho #enjoying it very very much #i've only got 2 and 3 left to play and i've played every mainstream re game 💪💪#it was a very fun journey! i played them all within this year #long post

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lightwise · 3 months

Text

Okay, okay. I have thoughts (and feelings) on this latest episode of The Acolyte. (And no, this is not another post on Manny Jacinto’s arms…even though 👀😮‍💨🥵).

This is the first episode since the first one that I can unequivocally (except for one aspect) say that I really liked. Where has this level of dialogue and character insight been the entire show!?

Manny continues to take the starring role in the show as The Stranger. I’m seriously in awe of how compelling his performance is, how effortless he’s making it feel between all the switches of his personality—hungover, drifting bum, to terrifying dark side user with chilling morals, to a calm, quiet, perfectly in control man who knows who he is and what he wants, what he’s capable of, and what the emotions of those around him are.

He and Sol have switched places this episode just as much as Osha and Mae have. Sol is unsettled, anxious, lost in tortuous thoughts of the past. So much so that he doesn’t recognize that Mae has boarded the ship with him instead of Osha for (an agonizingly) long time. He starts to feel more like a villain when he finally figures out that Mae has tricked him, binds her, and then hovers over her menacingly after she wakes up. He’s becoming unhinged and going rogue, even making sure that they leave the planet and that Vernestra cannot track him because he wants to go retrieve Osha alone. Why? What is he hiding??

I’ll go ahead and do my quick gripe with the episode here. I like Amandla’s performance as Osha. I really can’t get into her performance for Mae. Osha feels transparent in her mental state and desires and motivations throughout the show. Mae is very difficult to get a read on, and I don’t mean that that is a bad thing when it comes to storytelling. I mean that it’s not working here. She’s gone back and forth like ten times in the last two episodes alone, wanting to compete her mission, then wanting to abandon it and turn herself into the Jedi so she can be with Osha, then fighting Jecki, then running from Qimir, then seemingly picking up the mission again so she can kill Sol, then not, then reprogramming her sister’s droid in a very callous manner, then somehow knowing enough about ships that she can work with the power systems (which is her sister’s area of expertise, not hers)….it just doesn’t work for me.

I also think that Sol took too long to recognize her. I’ll give him the getting onto the ship and trying to get a message out bc his emotions are a wreck. But he should have noticed after that. I also think Basil is completely unnecessary as a character. Sorry.

Anyway, back to Osha and Qimir. It’s a classic dark side seduction unfolding (I cracked up at the “if you’re not going to join me”), but Manny is oh so convincing about it. We know as the audience that everything he tells Osha is a half truth. It’s interesting to see how both the Jedi and the Sith in this show are kind of dealing with a half truth in how they are using the Force and teaching others. But it’s still very convincing, because he’s really not fueling it with overly grand promises or even his own ulterior motives, though he does have them. He’s simply telling Osha what his version of the truth is. What his experiences have been. And how he thinks they overlap with hers.

The dialogue is wonderful. A great example of how monologuing to give us info we don’t already have can actually work sometimes (looking at you, Ahsoka show). The line “why do you love people who can only go so far” was a standout for me. Again, not the accurate truth, but definitely a “from a certain point of view”. Sol also reiterates that Osha’s main characteristic has been love. So what is going to make her turn away from that? Anger? Feeling abandoned? Feeling guilty? Pinning an objectively hot Sith to a wall with his own lightsaber? SORRY. Sorry. 🤣🤣🤣. Really loved the “when you lose everything, that’s when you’re finally free” too, as well as “it’s just you and the Force. And what you bring with you.”

The fact that Qimir was a Jedi and might be much older than we expect is very interesting. I know very little about the Sith timeline from Legends, other than seeing names float about (Revan, Tenebrous, Plageous, etc). I’m interested to see which named Sith they might slot Qimir in with, or if they’re going to keep him completely separate from the main Sith line. He definitely does want to be a part of it though, given his “power of two” comment. A discarded apprentice who seeks his own apprentice to gain power, not unlike one fandom favorite Maul, perhaps?

I also liked Vernestra in this episode. I got a little better read on her character in a short time and loved seeing her speed in the Force using her light whip. It’s fascinating seeing her padawan be just as uptight and questioning as Jecki and Yord were…almost like this whole generation of padawans will grow up to be the masters who train the masters we see in TPM. What I would still like to understand better is why there seems to be such a split between the generations here. What outside or internal factors are influencing this? All they’ve shown is still is wanting to keep the senate and the council on good terms, but we don’t know why.

(Side note: Her Universe or someone definitely needs to make the open shoulder sweatshirt Osha was wearing.)

If the whole show had been like this I would appreciate it a lot. As is I think I’ll enjoy where they’re taking us but not necessarily how we got there. Hopefully the last two episodes will keep up the momentum.

#the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #Star Wars #star wars spoilers #jedi master sol #osha aniseya #mae aniseya #qimir #darth teeth #the stranger

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bruciemilf · 2 years

Note

#like - ill be very transparent. sometimes i write fem bruce solely for harvey or clark eating pussy content KSKSKS #but thats very much achievable with trans bruce so

!!!!! ohhhh pleasepleaseplease give us a few headcanons/some content!! there's not enough trans!bruce out there esp. with harv and clark!

OH MANNN. MAN. MAN. so!! I don't know If you had a set preference between nsfw or sfw and/or harv an clark hcs,, so I think it'll be a mix for both!

Warnings/tags: Degradation, housewife kink, dirty talk, name calling, breeding kink, daddy kink mention, size kink

Transitioned early; Martha, Thomas, and Alfred were as discreet as a star family gets in Gotham City, where the media's eyes never shuts. Which is never enough.

They couldn't pay rich people, media people to ignore the Bruce before the Real Bruce. But if you cared about your life even a little bit, and you didn't want to die under Thomas' scalpel, you kept your mouth shut.

Bruce got in a stage where he was cis passing enough that people didn't think twice to call him a man; I feel like he grew up around healthy examples of masculinity, but when you're in college? You try to make up for your lacks.

There's a subgenre of sexism among men tbh, that its like, specifically To them; It's like, misogyny in the open, but they victimise eachother about it.

Bruce can't quite understand why drinking and hooking up and getting blasted without even worrying there's a pill in your drink is necessarily masculine. It's certainly a privilege, thought, and he's a bit (a lot) bitter abt it

Also most def carries testosterone shots on his batman belt that he accidentally injects instead of adrenaline like, all the time.

Oh, and testosterone and estrogen? Free in Gotham. Courtesy to Wayne Enterprises

Bruce not giving a wet fuck about gender norms in the slightest bit; He'll rock a coral pink tennis skirt and shiny, peach perfumed lip gloss.

He'll rock divine silk dresses. He'll look angelic with motor oil smudged on his cheek from breaking into the autoshop.

And he doesn't really care who has what to say about it, because Harvey Dent? Can't peel his eyes off of him, and that's enough of an achievement for Bruce.

(Nsfw HCs ahead!!!)

Harvey always always worries he might say the wrong thing; the wrong name, (they have a very soft spot for Princess and Baby)

Harvey calls him Baby Girl while Bruce worked him hard with his hand and mouth, dragging holy noises out of him with just a few tugs, and Harvey apologizes profusely

" My masculinity won't shrivel up and die because of a name, Harv. Even I'm not that fragile. "

Bruce is a big time virgin but no surprise there; Have you seen that man. He falls apart at a few words and gets wet so easily it's ridiculous.

Batman riding Harvey's thigh while he's supposed to interrogate him? It's more likely than you think

That being said, he's big on degradation; Harvey calls him a perfect little slut and Bruce's brain goes fuzzy and dim. I'm sorry, but Battinson has huge " pls just break me and take care of me after" energy I am PROFITING

With Clark it's almost the same, because personally? Mean Clark. Mean Clark who'll grip Bruce's diamond sharp jaw and make those strawberry lips pucker. Just to watch those pretty eyes roll back. " Aww. Are you that needy, darlin '?"

HARVEY AND CLARK AND BRUCE? biggest housewife kinks. I'm sorry, don't shoot the messenger, they SPECIFICALLY told me to tell YOU that they love Bruce in a pink apron, legs spread open on the kitchen counter while they're " having dinner"

THE BREEDING KINK???? Bruce rides the hell out Harvey/Clark, making an absolute mess on their laps, whining, squirming, sobbing up a storm because he DEF cries during sex, and he's begging so sweetly

" please-- please, can - can I have a baby? Please? Pretty please? For me, daddy? For daddy's little wife?"

He's very persuasive when he wants to be

And as the tags mentioned; Bruce has his legs spread open wide more often than not.

If he's not laying on his back, getting the soul slurped and licked and milked out of him, he's most definetly riding Clark's or Harvey's faces and I'll die on that hill.

Harvey/Clark love how fucking Big they are compared to him. They love Bruce is small enough to move around, but big amd strong enough to grope and manhandle. Praise kink is on Heavily. " That's a good boy. "

This man's pussy makes Harvey/Clark CRY. They're completely addicted to him. Bruce is all day everyday getting spread on princess pink sheets, lingerie shredded, heels digging in his partner's back and getting SERVICED like he deserves

Pillow princess 100%%%

He likes hard stuff, but he's Very fragile in the after-care process. He's ashamed of ask for it because he's affectionate, or starves for it anyway, and doesn't expect to receive it because he didn't until Then

But it's all so soft, after. Gentle kisses. Harvey/Clark carrying him around everywhere, not minding clingy arms or sharp nails squeezing their shoulders. They're happy to hold that big baby for hours

Gets the baby he wants but like. Of course it's conceived in the dirtiest baby making sex you'll ever hear of. RIP Harvey's old DA office/car and Clark's family barn

That's all folks!!!

#bruce wayne #nsft #trans bruce wayne #bottom bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #smut #harvey dent #clark kent #bruharvey #superbat #battinson

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physalian · 26 days

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IngramSpark: Good or Nah?

I decided to work with them last minute to set my book up for success, and, in case they screwed me over, I could hate them in a properly informed manner.

So!

IngramSpark (IGS) vs. Amazon (KDP) so far: A detailed comparison.

Spoiler Alert: FUCK INGRAMSPARK

Alrighty these are two proof copies (author copies) of the exact same book made with the exact same PDFs. IGS is on the left in all pics.

Stuff to note:

The IGS copy is slightly greener, the purple is less vibrant. KDP made the exact colors I painted this with in photoshop.

The KDP book is slightly thicker and while the spine print is slightly off center, the front cover is perfectly centered. Compare both of the lower moons on the right side and it's very obvious that IGS cut theirs incorrectly. It's cut incorrectly because their paper is thinner, thus needing a slightly narrower print PDF (which isn't something they would tell you).

KDP is slightly thicker because they used thicker paper. Theirs is less polished creme, you can feel more of a grain of the pages, but because they're thicker, they're less transparent. I can read straight through to not only the back of the title page, but straight onto the next piece of paper for the IGS copy, and theirs cost more to print.

KDP shipped in lighter packaging, which meant my copy got a little banged up as opposed to the cardboard coffin the IGS book was in. Pick your poison.

KDP

PROS

A breeze to work with in most areas. I did not need to use customer service, so I can’t comment on that, but I’ve heard it’s superior to IGS in every way. They do have a community chat that I have used when confused (more below) and pages upon pages of how-to resources.

Simple user interface, very easy to click through all the set-up menus and not once did it freeze or crash on me (more below).

Did not use their formatter or cover generator, I used Adobe and did my own so I can’t comment on their quality.

Their “print previewer” was fantastic. I could click through the whole book and they explained very thoroughly where some issues were and what I should look out for and they let me use my own files without issue instead of having to build them in the platform.

Their royalty rate is the best you can get in this industry, because they’re not selling to anyone but themselves so there’s no middle man taking a cut of the profit.

Print quality of the book itself is fantastic. Only thing I miss is the ability to emboss, but no print-on-demand company does that as far as I’m aware. The colors were an exact match to my design in Adobe, I have no complaints.

Instant reports and near-live report refreshes for ebooks. Print copies don’t register on reports until the book ships, but Amazon prints and ships within ~2 days.

Because it’s Amazon, even though proof copies aren’t applicable with Prime, my copy still got here in 5 days including print time. My print copy totaled the print cost plus $3 in standard shipping that I could have rushed.

It did get a little banged up on the bottom but I think that was during shipping not at the printing press.

If you’re really strapped for cash, they do offer free ISBNs *but these are KDP only ISBNs, you don’t own them, and they are non transferable between vendors and POD companies. Bite the bullet and just save up for your own ISBNs and buy them in bulk if you can and you plan on publishing at least 2 books in your lifetime (like a paperback and hardcover of the same book, even).

After I submitted my ebook for preorder, I kept finding little details to fix and lines I wasn’t happy with that got nixed at the 11th hour. Updating this was seamless and free and the updated versions were processed within 6 hours or so. Amazon did not lock in the files to the date the preorders were set like IngramSpark would have.

CONS

They still don’t have paperback preorder, but they do have a feature where you can submit for a future release, which is just giving your files over to go live on a set date. Thing is: When you get to the end of the setup, there’s a button that says something like “submit for publication” which does not actually mean “move your publication date to right now” like I thought. So I missed my paperback date by 2 days.

Their proof copy has that annoying grey “Not for Resale” stripe across the cover so it looks wonky in marketing images.

They have a “cover art size calculator” feature, which did not line up with the actual file size I needed come submission time, off by a few millimeters. Which meant resizing in Photoshop and it was incredibly annoying and tedious.

Upon finally hitting the “publish” button Amazon flagged my book and told me to fix the highlighted errors. Well there were no highlighted errors, and said error(s) could be anywhere across four pages of details. I had to consult the community notes to figure out what they were talking about (it was an ISBN issue) which was quite annoying.

IGS

PROS

Well-known as the best print-on-demand (POD) company with the widest reach, including Amazon, for expanded distribution. (NOT IN MY EXPERIENCE)

Also well-known as the highest quality self-publish paperback, that still doesn’t do embossing. (NOT IN MY EXPERIENCE)

They do paperback preorders (which I did not participate in).

Integrates flawlessly with libraries and retailers that Amazon won’t do (which is about its only claim to superiority). My book was searchable on Barnes & Noble within 48 hours.

IGS, like KDP, has free ISBNs (US only), with the exact same non-transferable issue. However, because they integrate across all sellers, Amazon included, if you only intend to work with them, you’ve reached every market anyway.

CONS

Their royalty rate sucks ass. I had to price my book $1 higher through IGS because I was literally at a deficit with all the printing costs and vendor discounts (so if you want my book for slightly cheaper, buy it through Amazon). Through IGS, I think I’m making about $1 in royalties, when all is said and done. And I’ve heard, shockingly, that that’s pretty good.

I didn’t try to use their customer service because I know it’s notoriously terrible. But it would have been helpful when their website crashed.

Their website crashed on me three times when trying to upload my files. Before it crashed, their “submit files” button simply did not work, so I had to go the roundabout way through their formatter and cover wizard (which I didn’t like) which then told me my 300DPI cover art was too small. The exact same file I submitted and had in my hands at perfect resolution to Amazon. It took almost 2 hours of running around in circles on their site to essentially start from scratch to get this up and running—and I did all of this with polished files from the get go because I knew revisions would be tedious. Can’t imagine the hassle if you aren’t ready to go immediately (this is why I didn't do a preorder with them).

I have heard that if you make changes to your files, they don’t go into effect until the next month, meaning if you have typos, and anyone buys your book before the next calendar month despite you fixing them in the system, that person is still buying the old version. I have also heard that generating reports is not seamless. After 60 days, revisions also cost you $25 a pop (KDP is free).

If you submit pre-made PDFs for your manuscript and cover (as in, you don’t format or generate them within their system) they do not have an instant previewer. Mine took 48 hours to deliver a link, when that shit should be automated and instantaneous and should allow me to use my own files.

IGS does not have Amazon’s monopoly on shipping, so to get my book here at all quickly, it cost me almost $20, rush fees applied for only 1 day faster than Amazon did. “Quickly,” being I ordered the proof on the 24th, and it won’t get here until the 28th. Meaning, that if you’re not paying rush fees, you’d have to wait longer.

They can be quite confusing with revisions during the preorder process. Per their website, they can begin printing your book “generally” 30 days before go-live. Which means someone who preordered your book on the 3rd gets the version of the book that was available on the 3rd, even if you update it on the 5th, because they print those immediately, even if the book’s official release date of the 30th hasn’t passed. You’d pretty much have to be completely done with revisions before setting up for preorder with them to be absolutely sure, which means wasted time. I don’t know why they don’t just queue up the books to be printed on a hard deadline a few days before release.

So. While I hate that Amazon has a monopoly, about the only thing IGS has going for it is their expanded distribution when everything about their business, from their platform to their user experience to the actual quality of books is at best dead even with KDP, but in my experience with my best foot forward, IGS annoyingly inferior.

I don’t think they’ll remain the “best POD company” for very much longer. I did not do hardcover for ENNS as of this post so I can’t comment on either service’s print quality, only what I’ve seen in other reviews. Some people like the jacket-less print-on-the-cardboard look (Amazon), some people (me) like the jacket, if only so I can use it as a bookmark.

*I wrote the above paragraphs before getting my proof copy from IGS and fucking hell they're not even competent at printing

It is also a massive waste of paper and shipping resources to have to print multiple versions of proof copies fixing errors outside of my control. My proof copy from KDP is perfect. IGS? Nope! But they wouldn't let me properly preview it so I had no idea this would happen.

Even as a consumer who might hate the idea of giving Amazon more money, there’s an argument to consider: I totally understand the desire to keep brick and mortar stores afloat and I don’t want Amazon’s monopoly on the market to grow even larger. However, Amazon makes sure that you’re making more than pocket change on your book, unless you jack up the prices for readers on the back end so the whole thing costs more all the way down the pipeline. I refused to do this.

That deficit that forced me to price ENNS even $1 higher than Amazon really bothers me with IngramSpark. That deficit exists because of a higher print cost and a 55% discount given to vendors so they can still make their cut of profit from stocking your book. IngramSpark had me sit through a whole video saying “if you don’t do this no one will stock your book” while saying you could go as low as 54% but that might scare off vendors.

In essence, at this time, KDP makes sure that you, the creator, make money. IGS makes sure that they and the businesses selling your book for you make money. I didn’t do any of this for profit, but it does hurt seeing all your hard work, possibly years of effort, have a royalty of $0.87.

So, yeah, is IngramSpark worth it?

I don’t yet know what their reach will amount to. It’s a dream of mine to see my book on a bookstore shelf, but signing up with IGS does not guarantee you sales, it just guarantees you the best chance possible at reaching potential buyers. But at the moment, all it looks like to me is fees, a bad UI, cheap printing, arrogance from perceived superiority in the market, and a business built boldly in favor of its own profits.

Amazon’s a shady-ass corporation, but I’m going to have to say they’re the better bet. At the very least, for your first book when you don’t have an audience and if making a profit is important to you.

—

I did not try to use any other POD like Draft 2 Digital or Barnes & Noble Press, as I already have KDP and IGS is the best platform to integrate with KDP.

See here for the cost breakdown of my debut novel from draft to publication.

#writing #writing a book #writeblr #writing resources #writing tools #kdp #ingramspark #self publishing #publishing #buyer beware

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goosewriting · 8 months

Text

“Have we met?” - Part 2

summary: Fives keeps finding himself coming to see reader, so they decide to confront him.

relationship: Fives x gn!reader

warnings: hmmm angst :^), mentions of characters’ deaths, implied brainwashing?, comfort at the end

word count: 1.7k

A/N: i'll do everything in my power to bring this man back time and time again >:')

prompts used (source): - it hurts me, just how much i ache for you - i feel your absence in everything that i do alone, in every place i go without you

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

→ PART 2: When you came back to him

Several days go by without you and Fives interacting much. He’s mostly focussing on his missions, and you’re focused on your work as well, trying to distract yourself from the pain of being away from your beloved by taking shift after shift. The nights are long and cold for you, and you can barely sleep. You wonder if he feels the same at all.

One evening, a ship comes back in such a bad state, they call all hands on deck to repair it. So you go down to the hangar to work on turning whatever is salvageable from the wreck back into a working part. After taking one last sip of your caf (it was going to be a long night), you set the cup away and crawl under a panel, looking at the messy wiring. It isn’t long until you hear some steps approaching and stopping beside you.

You climb out from under the ship and see none other than Fives, just standing there, helmet tucked under one of his arms. He looks unsure and kind of tense. You lean onto the ship’s frame.

“Hey, handsome,” you greet him with your usual pet name.

“Hi,” is all he replies. You rise your brows at him, asking for him to continue, but he doesn’t. For a moment, all you two hear is the sounds of machinery and indistinct chatter of the hangar.

“So,” you stretch out the word. “What brings you here this fine evening?”

“I’m… honestly not entirely sure myself,” Fives responds, looking around as if he only now realised where he was without knowing how he got here. Then he heaves a sigh. “I found this in my last mission and had the sudden urge to bring it back for you, for some reason.”

He digs around in one of the pouches on his belt with his free hand and takes out a little rock. Offering it to you, he holds out his open palm, and you almost burst into tears right then and there. Back when you started dating, you had jokingly told Fives that on his next mission he should bring back a souvenir for you. And since then, he’d always do that, bringing you rocks or trinkets he found. Once he actually gave you one of his old armour parts, a shoulder pauldron, that got absolutely obliterated in an explosion because he hadn't had the time to get you anything better. You kept it anyway, because it was a reminder to both of you that even after going out there and risking his life, you were here waiting for him to come back to you.

And he had, every single time. Except that this time, he came back, just not to you.

Seeing that you're just staring at the rock in his hand, Fives clears his throat.

“You know what, nevermind,” he mumbles, about to put the rock back into his pouch. “It was silly anyway.”

“No, wait,” you stop him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out. I’ll take the rock.”

You take it into your hand to inspect it, turning it around in your fingers against the light. One half is of a brick red, while the other partially transparent, of a milky blue with specks of green and gold. It looks a bit like a galaxy, and the thought brings a smile to your face. Clutching the rock in your fist, you bring it to your chest and look up at Fives with a genuine smile.

“Thank you,” you say, tilting your head to the side slightly. “It’s been a while since you brought me one of this colour.”

“Right…”, he says and starts studying your face, but then his hand shoots up to his head as he takes a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Are you okay?” You reach out to him, but he takes a step back.

“I-I’m fine,” he says through gritted teeth, trying to calm his pained breaths. “Sorry to interrupt you while you’re working. I better get back.”

“See you around, I hope?” you ask, hugging yourself.

He leaves with a nod, but you could have sworn you heard him say “me too” under his breath.

This goes on for a couple of rotations; Fives suddenly appearing at your workstation in the hangar looking like he’s lost, or entering your workshop only to come to a sudden halt, as if he forgot why he’s there right after passing the door. Often he'd have a little trinket for you. Other times he’d just come by to say hi. But every time you try to bring up something from your past together, his head starts hurting and he leaves.

At some point, you decide you've waited long enough. You'd get nowhere by just waiting. After all, he was coming to see you. Even if he didn’t know why himself. So now it’s time to go to him instead. You've wooed him once, surely you can do it again… right?

On a particularly frustrating day at work, after trying to design a new electrical panel for a ship and not being able to make it work after what felt like a hundred tries, you decide you need to get out and move a bit to clear your mind. You’re still grumbling and thinking about the panel, turning it over and over in your mind’s eye, trying to find the problem. All the while, your legs are walking on their own, and it’s not too long before you find yourself at the barracks of the 501st.

Standing in front of the door, you sigh, thinking back to how many times you had sneaked in and out of here. Officially, clones weren’t allowed to have romantic relationships, but you knew there were actually a handful on this ship. And everyone who was in on it kept the secret. The 501st was well aware of your relationship with Fives, and they had always been supportive, Rex included. You’re sure the Generals also suspected something, but they never said anything, for which you were thankful.

Unsure of what you even wanted to do here in the first place, you’re about to turn around and leave when the door suddenly slides open and you’re met with Fives, sans armour. He’s only wearing his blacks, a bag hanging from his shoulders; he’s going to the gym.

“Oh, hi there,” he greets you with a small smile. “Were you looking for someone?”

Screw it, you think.

“Actually, yes. You,” you answer and gesture towards his bag. “Leave it, we need to talk.”

— — —

Entering to your room, you sit down on your bed, and Fives sits down on a chair next to it.

“I’ve been wondering for a while now,” you start, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. “Do you remember what happened on Ringo Vinda?”

The question takes Fives by surprise, but he makes an effort to try and think back to those events. He tells you what he knows, from the start of the mission to seeing Tup shoot General Tiplar, his memories ending when the Kaminoans put him under for a routine check-up.

“I had this recurring nightmare for several days after I came back,” Fives ends his retelling with a frown. “I kept seeing Tup on Kamino, in the room next to mine. He was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but as his head starts spinning again, he retracts his hand from yours at first. But this time, he reaches back for your hand with a groan, and brings it to his face so you cup his cheek.

“Every time when I’m with you, it hurts,” Fives speaks in a whisper. “My head is screaming at me to get away from you. And at the same time, it hurts me, just how much I ache for you.”

He tightly closes his eyes to refrain from crying, but the tears are already rolling down his cheeks. You feel incredibly helpless.

“Why can’t I remember who you are?” he asks, his voice breaking, just like your heart. “I don’t remember seeing your face or hearing your voice before, yet I feel your absence in everything that I do alone, in every place I go without you… I find myself looking for you wherever I go.”

By now, you can’t hold it back any more and take both his hands, pulling him to sit beside you on the bed, and hug him. This time he hugs back, and he's shaking.

“I don’t know what happened to you, Fives, but it’s okay,” you say into his shoulder, gently stroking up and down his back. “You’re back here with me. We’ll be fine.”

By the way he’s shaking, you can tell he’s trying to choke back a sob.

“It’s just you and me, sweetheart, just let it out.”

Fives starts crying properly, holding onto you for dear life, his face buried between your neck and your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Fives,” you say, your own tears staining his blacks. “I wish I knew what to do. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he breathes as he pulls back slightly to look at you, and for the first time since he came back to the Resolute, it feels like he’s finally properly looking at you like he used to; eyes filled with love and a little bit of mischief.

You lean in, your hands at the nape of his neck, and pull him in for a kiss. It's sweet, almost shy, like he's kissing you for the first time. He sighs into it and pulls you even closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Once you break for air, both of you panting, you lie down on the bed, pulling him down with you so he’s on top of you, and you hold his head to your chest.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Fives asks, and you can’t help the light chuckle that escapes you.

“Of course.”

You spend the next minutes in silence, just basking in each other’s presence.

“Will you tell me about us?” he asks after some time. “How we met, and how I definitely charmed you?”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair.

“Sure thing, I’ll tell you everything.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97

#goose feathers #sw clone wars #the clone wars #clone trooper x reader #star wars clone wars #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #clone trooper fives x reader #sw fives x reader #star wars x reader

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anlian-aishang · 1 year

Text

Everyone deserves to be mailed lingerie then stripped free from it, and by everyone, Erwin means his wife specifically.

// tags: erwin smith x reader, smut, allusions to masturbation, reader is briefly lifted, modern AU, fem!reader // word count: 1300

Without him here, there was no need to bite back your smile. A pure, shameless grin - a laugh even - as you took in what was before your eyes: pristine white box, black ribbons bowed over the corners, and silver cursive you were too hasty to read.

Chills seized your fingers as they worked on untying and unwrapping. Lid fell to the floor, beneath: transparent wrapping paper, folded perfectly. Tiny card rested square atop it:

For you. Hope to see it soon. From Sydney, E.S.

You rolled your eyes even as your face started to burn. Fumbling now, you dug through the box, tissue paper crinkling. You wondered if there was a more delicate texture in the world. There was, and it was the gift within. Panties so soft, next to nothingness. So thin, he would tear right through them. At the thought, a wave of heat, a heat that somehow made you shiver.

Instinctively, you shouldered off your robe. Straight there in your foyer, a naughty silhouette projected onto your curtains, stepping out of silk dress and into white lace.

From all those miles away, Erwin had picked a perfect fit. That vision, you supposed, had landed him this executive position - the one that bought you this house, the one that pulled him away from it - business trip after business trip.

You bunched the stretch of fabric in your hands and startled, already damp. “Damn it,” you cursed to yourself, ten days too many.

Matters into your own hands. It was what he would want.

// // //

Clean sheets. Mirror on the ceiling. A few favorites lined up. Nothing on but your new gift. Everything was right.

But about that. Narrowing your gaze, the mirror’s reflection above you gave a disapproving shake of her head. You had undressed yourself with self-loving intentions plenty of times, but something about this outfit, it demanded a partner. One did not light their own birthday candles, did not massage their own back. This underwear carried similar sentiment.

Blue lilies he would deflower, dainty lace his large hands would trace. Yes, it was perfect on you. But it would be even more perfect to have him take it off of you.

Your filming session had stopped before it started, but you supposed some stills would do. 3 PM. His work phone.

Yeah, that’ll do. The couple shared a near simultaneous thought as you sent the photos and he received them.

Got your present. Have a sneak peek. I’ll express my thanks when you get home.

Index and thumb pressed to his temples. Home never felt so far away.

More to that gift, but won’t get there until flight 613’s arrival.

Over halfway through this trip, back sooner than you think.

Had you the presence of mind, you would have noticed that 613 did not match the ticket stub on the fridge. Erwin figured that the package had made for a good-enough distraction. Indeed, though you daydreamed of his return for hours, you jumped at the sound of his key sheathed into the lock.

“What the-!?”

A satisfied smirk on the man otherwise proper. Immaculate smile, except for the lip bite. Proud posture, heart racing beneath. Pants ironed, ignoring the bulge at his middle - an impossible task. To everyone else, Erwin was objective perfection. You were the only one close enough to see his flaws, to find the beauty in them, to love him even more because of them.

“Happy to see you, too,” he teased.

“Yeah?” Sauntering closer, pupils dilated, a predator longing to be prey. Lotioned hand explored his slacks until landing a habitual hold of a familiar length, “I can tell.”

His briefcase hit the floor with a thud, but you did not startle, not even when calloused hands cupped the backs of your thighs and hoisted you to the countertop. Cold granite met your lower half - its ice shooting through your veins. A brief whimper as your nipples rapidly hardened, Erwin was quick to take them - warm them - in his mouth.

Shaky sighs as you labored to reach your arms over his shoulders, to knot your fingers at his undercut. The sudden onset of stimulation brought a singsong to your voice, one that turned his belts and briefs unbearably tight. “So eager,” you cooed. “Seems to me like you just wanted an excuse to come home.”

You knew: he was too smart to be this naive, to mail you lingerie without expecting you to put it on, take a picture, and text it to his work phone immediately.

“That,” Erwin offered, “or you just wanted an excuse to bring me home.”

He knew: you were too devious to play so innocent, to send him that photo without expecting him to cancel his meetings, book a flight, and get home just as immediately - faster than you could say, back so soon?

“But…” you rolled your head back, relishing. As you propped yourself further up the counter, you feigned consideration, “you worked so hard for-”

“-for times like these.” Erwin growled. Sturdy hands strove for delicacy, running fingers in your hair as he insisted, “If I can’t please my wife, I might as well quit.”

Your only response was a stammer. The husk in his voice made intoxicating contrast with the slick of his responses. Uttering filth like it was nothing, your eyes rolled back, is this a dream?

No, not even your unconscious could come up with this, how his knuckles hooked exactly where your hips became curves, sliding down symmetrically and simultaneously with sadistic slow. The singe of his exhales on your torso, drawing shudders he subdued as he held you in his arms. The marks he decorated your neck with, saliva and swears stuck to your skin. Erwin had given you many memorable experiences, but this was some other, “E’Erwin…”

“You have no idea,” he hissed, “how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Your eyes widened, lips parted at the idea - the realization - of how he had spent his lone hotel nights: dreaming of this very scene, his return, and how you would look in these panties.

“Even better than I imagined,” sighs landed upon your ear. Two fingers to your middle, finding your folds despite the fabric. With each back and forth, your arousal continued to spill, soaking his touch. “So adorable…” between licks of his digits clean, his groan flirted with a whine, “irresistible.”

Ventures away always seemed to fog his memory. His tongue rejoiced when reunited with yours, though the taste was far from foreign. The milk to his coffee, the sugar to his tea, the sweetener to the hardships of life. He forgot all else in the presence of you.

Words threaded with kisses, “How do you do it, hm?” Lovemark on your jawline, “Tell me your secrets.”

Nails dug into his nape, “You know them already.”

Yes, he knew, but he still had to find out - find out what was inside those flowery panties, explore how exactly the garment matched with your crevices, discover the scent of French lace and you. Selfish was his stare as he tugged down and down, licking his lips as he watched the clear string fall from your cunt, along your thighs, all the way to your ankles where he let them hang.

My god, Erwin swore, she waited for me. So wet, so sensitive, he could tell, that had to be the case. Insatiable, in this context or others, was his desire to have his theories confirmed.

“If I were a betting man, and I am-” Erwin asserted, “I’ll bet you’ve been waiting for this all week.”

You thrust your hands in his hair, nails curled, beckoning him forward, “I shouldn’t have to tell you,” you chastised with a selfish pull of his locks, “get down here and taste for yourself.”

// masterlist //

#erwin #erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #smut #oneshot #salt and pepper #2023 #anlian writes #alias's #my writing

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