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reidmarieprentiss · 7 months ago

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I have a request that I know you’ll write 100% better than me! Spencer leaves his girlfriend at the altar without giving a single reason. And disappears for months. Then he comes back and it is revealed he did it because Reader's life was at risk. When he goes to apologize, Reader doesn't let him speak. Spencer crawls on his knees for forgiveness and tries to figure out how to improve the situation. The ending is up to you: angst, happy ending or not. You choose! I know you’ll do a great fic!

Sadly Ever After

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt, angst

Warnings/Includes: no happy ending, being left at the altar, just general sadness after a breakup, small crime talk

Word count: 5.6k

a/n: hiii i hope this is sufficient lolol i am in a very angsty mood

main masterlist

You had never felt so beautiful in your entire life. The dress—the dress—was everything you had dreamed it would be. Layers of soft tulle cascaded down your frame, the delicate lacework etched across the bodice molding perfectly to you, almost as if it had been made for you alone. Each step you took sent the fabric swaying around you like whispers of movement, ethereal and romantic.

Penelope had outdone herself with your hair. Loose waves tumbled, glowing in the golden light of the early evening, held in place by a sparkling hairpiece that caught the glow of the string lights. Every curl seemed to be perfectly placed, not too styled but effortlessly enchanting, as if you had stepped out of a fairytale. JJ and Emily had tag-teamed your makeup, ensuring that every stroke and brush was precise and delicate. The soft blush on your cheeks, the shimmer of your eyeshadow, the perfect tint of color on your lips—it was understated perfection.

And Rossi, ever the consummate host, had given you and Spencer the most breathtaking backdrop for your wedding. His sprawling backyard had transformed into something magical. An altar of wooden beams, wrapped with soft draped fabric and overflowing with flowers—roses, peonies, and wild blooms—stood like a gateway to forever. Twinkling fairy lights criss crossed above, their soft glow turning the clearing into a dreamscape. The grass, still cool from the afternoon, added an earthy softness to the air, grounding the magic in something real.

Then there he was—Spencer.

Your heart stuttered at the sight of him standing at the altar, hands nervously clasped in front of him, the slightest smile pulling at the corners of his lips when his eyes found you. His suit was sharp and clean, a dark shade that contrasted beautifully with the delicate tones of your dress. The bowtie, a small nod to his usual style, somehow made him look even more endearing, his charm on full display. His curls fell just perfectly, framing his face and softening the seriousness of his features.

But it was his eyes that caught you—the depth of them, brimming with unspoken emotion, raw and honest. The sight of him struck you in the chest, stealing the air from your lungs. The tears you had tried to fight back began to prick the corners of your eyes.

Each step down the aisle felt slower, deliberate, as though time itself had stretched just for the two of you. You took in every detail—the warm breeze rustling the leaves above, the distant chirp of crickets, the way the light filtered through the trees, creating golden halos around your guests. As you approached Spencer, standing tall beneath the altar where Aaron Hotchner waited to officiate, your heart swelled with so much love you thought it might burst.

Aaron’s voice, steady and clear, had been a comforting hum in the background—his dry wit laced through the ceremony brought a lightheartedness that had the guests chuckling softly at all the right moments. He was a master at balancing sincerity and charm, even as the formal words of the ceremony unfurled.

The vows had been the pinnacle of it all. Spencer’s, with their perfect blend of sentimentality and poetic elegance, had left you breathless. Every word was carved with precision, so achingly him that it made your heart feel both full and fragile in the best way. Your vows, equally personal and unflinchingly honest, had drawn a few tears from the crowd. For those few minutes, it felt like it was just the two of you—completely alone in your little world, pledging yourselves to each other.

But then Aaron’s voice broke that perfect little bubble.

“Spencer, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

It was a question Spencer had to be expecting. One he should have answered without hesitation. The words hung in the air like a held breath. Waiting.

You smiled softly, fingers intertwined with his, but that silence—the silence that followed—was deafening. The longer Spencer stood there, unmoving and unspeaking, the weight of the moment became unbearable. You felt the shift in the energy around you, a sudden drop in the warmth that had enveloped the ceremony just moments ago.

The guests began shifting uncomfortably in their seats. A murmur rustled through the crowd—quiet and confused. It was subtle at first, the furrow of brows and exchanged glances, but the longer Spencer remained silent, the more palpable the tension became.

“Spencer?” you whispered faintly, trying to ground him with the sound of your voice. Your hands squeezed his gently, searching for reassurance in the way his thumb brushed against your skin. But that was the thing—his thumb wasn’t moving at all. His hands were still, stiff even, as he stared at you.

And his eyes—oh, those fucking eyes.

They weren’t full of the love you had seen all evening, that awe-struck admiration that had made your knees weak when you first stepped down the aisle. No, they were hollow now, distant, as though he was somewhere far away.

The silence stretched so long you felt it wrap around your chest like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Spencer,” Aaron prompted gently, his calm, officiating voice now laced with quiet concern.

Finally, finally, Spencer moved. The slightest tilt of his lips into a soft, almost apologetic smile. The kind of smile that said everything and nothing at the same time.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. The words were so soft they barely reached your ears, like a secret meant just for you.

Your brows knitted together as confusion bloomed across your face. Sorry? Sorry for what?

But before you could say anything, before you could even process the sound of those three words, Spencer’s grip on your hands loosened. He let go—he let go—and turned.

One moment he was standing in front of you, your almost-husband, and the next he was running. The sound of his shoes hitting the wooden platform of the altar was jarring. Sharp.

“Spencer!” you called after him, panic rising in your voice, but it was too late.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. The murmurs grew louder now, confusion turning to shock as everyone watched Spencer disappear through the open back doors of Rossi’s house.

You stood frozen, rooted to the spot where he had left you, your hands still hovering in front of you as though you could still feel the shape of his in your palms.

The string lights above twinkled innocently, the flowers framing the altar swayed in the evening breeze, and the guests remained seated, staring, waiting—hoping this was some sort of terrible joke.

But it wasn’t.

Aaron, steady as ever, took a cautious step forward, lowering his voice as he gently spoke. “Y/N… do you want to sit down?”

Sit down. Right. You felt like the earth beneath you had cracked wide open, leaving you teetering on the edge. How could he run? How could Spencer Reid—your Spencer—leave you like that?

Your lips trembled as you looked back toward the house, the place where he had vanished. You felt the eyes of everyone on you, their collective disbelief pressing down on your shoulders like an invisible weight.

You swallowed thickly, the tears you had been holding back earlier now threatening to spill for an entirely different reason.

“I don’t…” you started, but your voice faltered.

Because you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what had just happened or why.

All you knew was that Spencer Reid—the love of your life, your almost-husband—had left you standing alone under the twinkling lights of Rossi’s backyard, with nothing but a hollow whisper of I’m sorry lingering in his wake.

—

Months had passed, yet time felt like it moved at a crawl. The day Spencer ran from you—from your wedding—remained an echo that refused to quiet. You thought that eventually the sting would dull, that the confusion would lift, but it clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You had packed up your life together in silence, alone in the home you once shared with him. The apartment was eerily still without the sound of his voice murmuring about a book or his soft humming while he made tea. It had felt haunted, as though every room whispered why? at you, taunting you with memories of what you thought your life would be. You didn't even see him again during those long days you spent packing—only once did Penelope call to let you know he had gone home to see his mother.

“Just so you know,” Penelope had said softly over the phone. She sounded hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she was making things better or worse. “Spencer’s not in D.C. anymore. He went back to Vegas. I think he wanted to… I don’t know, give you space.”

You’d thanked her out of politeness, even though the words stung. Give you space. Was that what this was? Him running, abandoning you at the altar—was that his way of giving you space? You didn’t ask for space. You had asked for him. Well, actually, he had asked for you.

So you moved back into the apartment you had sublet without any real trouble. It was strange to see your things there again, familiar but foreign, as though they belonged to a different version of you. You kept most of your life in boxes for a while. Unpacking felt like admitting that this—this emptiness—was permanent, and you weren’t ready to do that yet.

The team tried to reach out in those first weeks.

JJ had sent you messages that were simple but heartfelt: “Thinking of you. I’m here if you need anything.”

Emily had tried to call you once. She left a voicemail, her voice kind and gentle: “Hey, it’s me. I know you might not want to talk right now, and that’s okay, but I just wanted you to know we’re all thinking of you. You’re not alone.”

Penelope was the most persistent. She sent texts, little gifts, even a handwritten letter because she knew how personal that would feel. But every text, every call, every kind gesture just reminded you of him. Spencer had been the thread that connected you to the team, and now every single one of them felt like a painful reminder of what you’d lost. Of the way he left.

So you shut them out, one by one.

You didn’t hate them. You couldn’t. JJ, Emily, Penelope, Derek, Hotch and Rossi—they were good people, your people once. But being around them, talking to them, made Spencer’s absence feel louder. It was as though his ghost lingered between every conversation. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t separate them from him.

Penelope’s messages stopped first. You imagined her sitting in her colorful office, fidgeting with a pen as she debated whether to text you again. She was the kindest soul you knew, and you hated the idea that you were shutting her out, but you couldn’t face her—or any of them.

Then came the loneliness. It wasn’t the kind that was born from an empty room or quiet nights alone. It was deeper, sharper. The kind of loneliness you only felt when you lost someone dear to you.

You sat on your couch one night—your couch now, not Spencer’s, not yours and his, just yours—and stared at the stack of boxes you still hadn’t unpacked. The light from the kitchen spilled into the living room, casting long shadows across the floor. It was silent except for the hum of the fridge and the faint tick of the clock on the wall.

You wondered if Spencer was in his childhood home now, back in Vegas, sitting with his mother. Did he talk about you? Did he think about you?

Or was he like you—alone in a room that used to feel like home, wondering how everything had unraveled so quickly?

It didn’t matter, you told yourself. You weren’t going to chase answers you might never get. If he wanted to explain himself, he would have. But he didn’t. Instead, he ran. He left you there, at the altar, in front of everyone you loved, and didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them as you stared at the faint glow of your phone screen on the coffee table. Another message from JJ, one you wouldn’t open. You knew she would stop eventually. They all would.

You had been close with all of them, almost like family. But Spencer’s absence had burned through those bonds like fire through dry wood. And now, months later, all that was left was ash.

And the strangest part of it all? You missed them. You missed JJ’s motherly warmth, Emily’s strength, Penelope’s relentless kindness. You missed Derek teasing you, Rossi’s wise words, Hotch’s steady, grounding presence.

But missing them also meant missing him.

And missing him? That was something you couldn’t bear to feel any more than you already did.

—

The bullpen was quieter than usual that morning. The team was settled at their desks, heads ducked over files and reports, but there was no mistaking the shift in energy. Spencer was back. After months of leave, months of silence, months of wondering—he had walked through the glass doors of the BAU like nothing had happened.

Except something had happened. Something none of them could make sense of.

Spencer didn’t look any different on the outside. His suit was pressed and neat, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder in that familiar way. But there was a tightness in his jaw, a heaviness in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. He had always carried the world on his back, but this time, it looked like the weight might crush him.

The air hung thick as he settled into his desk, quietly unpacking his bag. No one spoke at first, though they all exchanged glances, unsure of how to broach it—of how to demand answers.

It was Derek who cracked first. Of course it was Derek. He had been simmering with frustration for months now, trying to make sense of Spencer’s sudden disappearance and his refusal to talk about it.

“You want to tell us all what the fuck is going on?” Derek’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and pointed.

Spencer froze, one hand halfway to his desk drawer. He didn’t turn right away, but everyone else did. All eyes turned to Derek, who sat leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His tone was accusatory, sure, but his expression—underneath the tension—was concern.

Spencer swallowed, closing the drawer with a soft click before finally turning to face the team. JJ looked at him with something between worry and hope, her brow slightly furrowed. Emily’s gaze was harder to read, but her eyes were pinned to him, waiting. Penelope, standing in the doorway with a coffee in hand, looked like she wanted to speak but thought better of it. Even Rossi, ever the patient one, had his head tilted slightly as he studied Spencer.

Spencer took a breath, his hands curling around the edge of his desk.

“I…” His voice cracked slightly, unused to addressing so much weight at once. He steadied himself and tried again. “I owe you all an explanation.”

“Damn right you do,” Derek shot back, though his tone was a little softer this time.

Spencer nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line as he gathered his thoughts. He looked down for a moment, fingers drumming idly against the wood of his desk before he spoke again.

“I left because I needed to,” he said simply. His voice was low, not quite weak, but careful—like every word was fragile, like he was afraid they might break apart. “I needed to… figure things out.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as the team sat gathered around the conference table, all of them watching Spencer intently. The blinds were drawn, the overhead lights humming faintly above them, but it did little to dispel the weight pressing down on everyone.

“Figure what out?” JJ had asked softly, her tone teetering somewhere between exasperation and hope.

Spencer had sighed then, a breath so deep it looked like it pained him. “Yeah, um… can we go to the conference room?”

No one argued.

Once they were all seated in the conference room, Spencer remained standing, gripping the back of one of the chairs like it was the only thing holding him upright. His knuckles turned white as he stared down at the polished table, gathering the words he had spent months trying to keep buried.

“Someone was threatening me,” Spencer said finally, his voice low, steady, but carrying the weight of something dark and unspoken. “Threatening her.”

The pronoun lingered like a slap, and no one needed clarification to know who he meant. You.

JJ sucked in a sharp breath, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest as though she could feel the impact of those words. Derek leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his expression hardening as he processed what Spencer was saying.

“What do you mean, someone was threatening you?” Rossi asked, his voice calm but firm, coaxing Spencer to keep going.

“They found Y/N because of me,” Spencer continued, his voice quieter now, almost ashamed. “Because of my job. I… I put her in danger. They used her as leverage, made it clear that if I told anyone—if I told any of you—that they would kill her.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Emily glanced toward Derek, her expression darkening as she began piecing things together.

“How long did this go on?” Derek finally asked, his tone a low growl.

Spencer didn’t meet his eyes. “Months. I started getting letters, then texts. Pictures of her—ones that no one else could’ve had. They knew where she was at all times. When she went to work, when she was home, when she was with me.”

Penelope gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth as tears threatened to well in her eyes. “Spencer…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Spencer shook his head, jaw tightening. “I couldn’t let anything happen to her. I couldn’t. So when the threats escalated—when they said they’d kill her if I stayed here and didn’t cooperate—I left.”

“And you didn’t tell us?” JJ asked, the hurt in her voice unmistakable.

“I couldn’t,” Spencer said, his voice nearly cracking. “If I told any of you, they said they’d go through with it. So I had to work the case alone. I did things I… I don’t want to talk about, but I found them. I stopped them. I made sure they could never hurt her again.”

The room fell silent again as the weight of his confession sank in. No one spoke, no one moved. Spencer’s breathing had grown uneven, like the memory alone was clawing its way back to him.

It was Rossi who finally broke the silence, his voice calm and measured but tinged with quiet curiosity. “Why did you wait until the wedding to run?”

Spencer’s shoulders slumped. He looked down at the table, his gaze unfocused, like he couldn’t bear to look at any of them. “I… I thought I could marry her. I thought if I could just get through that day, I could disappear. Take her somewhere safe. Run away with her before they could do anything. I wanted to give her something good, something beautiful, before I ruined everything.”

His voice faltered, and he shook his head, his grip tightening on the chair. “But when I saw her standing there… looking so happy, so perfect… it was like I was transported into my worst nightmare. I saw her—bloody and dead—because of me. Because of what I do, because of who I am. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand the thought of her being hurt because of me. So I ran. I thought… I thought it was better to break her heart than to get her killed.”

The room was deathly quiet now. No one knew what to say. Derek rubbed a hand over his face, trying to process it all, while JJ blinked away tears that had started to gather in her eyes. Penelope was openly crying now, her quiet sobs muffled behind her hands.

“You should’ve told us,” Emily finally said, her voice soft but firm. “We could’ve helped you, Spencer.”

Spencer looked up then, his face hollow, haunted. “And what if you couldn’t? What if I told you, and it still wasn’t enough? What if she died because of me?” His voice broke on the last word, and he quickly looked away, his shoulders trembling slightly.

No one had an answer for that.

Rossi sighed, leaning back in his chair, the understanding settling on his features. “So you’re back now because it’s over?”

Spencer nodded. “It’s over. I made sure of it.”

“And Y/N?” Derek asked quietly, though the question lingered like a punch to the gut.

Spencer’s face fell, his voice a whisper. “She doesn’t know. She just thinks I… left her.”

JJ’s brows furrowed in disbelief, her voice sharp now. “And you haven’t told her? Spencer, she deserves to know—”

“I know!” Spencer’s voice rose suddenly, a flash of frustration breaking through the cracks. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. “I know,” he repeated, softer this time, the anguish bleeding through. “But how do I explain it to her? How do I look her in the eye and tell her I let her believe I abandoned her because I thought I was saving her life?”

The room fell silent once more, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning.

No one had an answer for that either.

—

Spencer stood outside your apartment building, his heart hammering so hard he could hear it in his ears, like a drum echoing through a cavernous void. His hands trembled at his sides as he stared up at the familiar brick, the windows glowing faintly with light from the rooms inside. You were home. He knew it, and yet his feet felt like they were glued to the pavement.

His breathing came fast, shallow, uneven—panic building like a wave rising up from his chest and crashing against his throat. He bent over slightly, hands braced on his knees, trying to steady himself, but it wasn’t enough. The air felt thin, insufficient, as if he was sucking in nothing but emptiness.

Not here, not now, he thought desperately, squeezing his eyes shut. You have to do this.

He pushed off his knees and leaned back against the cool brick wall, his spine pressing into it like it could somehow ground him. His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he tried to focus on something—anything—other than the guilt gnawing at him.

Breathe in for four. Hold for four. Out for four.

He silently counted, forcing air through his lungs, slowing the frantic rhythm of his breaths. He repeated the process over and over until the tightness in his chest began to ease, just enough for him to move again.

His legs still felt weak as he pushed away from the wall and crossed the threshold into the building, each step heavier than the last. The stairwell yawned before him like an unforgiving climb, the kind that felt insurmountable despite its simplicity. He clutched the cold metal railing as he ascended, pausing halfway up the flight to press his forehead against the wall and whisper to himself under his breath.

“You can do this. Just knock. Just say it.”

The words sounded pathetic to his ears, hollow in the stillness of the stairwell, but they were all he had. After all these months, after everything he’d done—or failed to do—it came down to this. He had to face you. He had to tell you the truth, no matter what it cost him.

When he reached your floor, Spencer stopped outside your door, staring at the familiar brass numbers that suddenly looked foreign. His heart began to race again, beating faster and faster, drowning out every rational thought. He hadn’t been here since… since before everything. Since you had been his, since he had woken up to the sound of your laughter, since he had memorized the smell of your shampoo and the feel of your hand in his.

The memories hit him all at once, clawing their way out of the recesses of his mind like ghosts—mocking him with what he had lost. What he had taken from himself.

Spencer’s hand shook as he raised it, hovering inches away from the door. He felt paralyzed again, the nausea rising in his stomach like a sick promise. He could turn back. He could leave now, before you opened the door, before you saw him standing there. Maybe you hadn’t moved on yet, maybe you still hated him, maybe you didn’t even want the answers he had brought.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose.

No. She deserves this. She deserves the truth.

His knuckles brushed against the door—softly at first, a timid, ghostly sound. Then he knocked, the noise louder than he intended, the echo of it reverberating down the hall.

Spencer froze, his breath catching in his throat as the moments stretched endlessly. The only sound he could hear was the faint buzz of the overhead lights and the blood rushing in his ears.

And then, from the other side of the door, he heard it.

Footsteps.

The shuffle of movement, the creak of a floorboard.

Spencer felt his pulse spike again, his palms growing clammy as the footsteps approached. His body tensed, and for one horrible second, he thought he might turn and run.

But then the door opened.

And there you were.

You froze in the doorway, one hand still on the knob as your eyes met his. Spencer’s heart lodged itself in his throat as he took in the sight of you—your expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable, your lips parting slightly as though words had caught there, unable to escape.

You looked the same and yet different, somehow. Your hair was a little longer, your face softer, but your eyes—those eyes that had once looked at him with so much love—now held something else entirely.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched on, so loud it was deafening.

Spencer’s throat felt dry as he finally managed to whisper, “Hi.”

It was so small, so simple, but it was all he could get out before his voice cracked.

You blinked, the mask of composure you had thrown on beginning to fracture. Your voice came out quiet, wary, almost disbelieving. “Spencer?”

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words he had been practicing for weeks, for months. They were all jumbled now, falling apart in his mind.

“I… I needed to see you,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I need to explain.”

Your hand tightened on the doorknob, your knuckles going white as you looked at him—really looked at him—and the pain he’d left behind resurfaced in your eyes like a wave crashing over jagged rocks.

The second the words left his mouth—“I need to explain”—something inside you snapped. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal that had been simmering beneath the surface for months came roaring to life like a fire you could no longer control. Before you even realized what you were doing, your grip on the doorknob tightened, and with a force you hadn’t known you were capable of, you slammed the door.

The sound was deafening, the crack of wood against its frame echoing through the hallway. It felt final, like a gavel coming down to deliver a sentence. And for a moment, all you could hear was the rapid pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears.

On the other side of the door, you heard nothing.

No knock. No footsteps. Not a single sound.

For a long moment, you stood there, your chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. Your hand was still on the doorknob, fingers trembling as though the residual shock of what you’d done was finally catching up to you.

Spencer Reid.

The man who had left you, abandoned you in the cruelest way possible, standing you up at the altar without so much as a word. The man who had disappeared from your life, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a heart he had shattered. And now, now, after all these months, he had the audacity to show up at your door and say he needed to explain?

Explain what?

How he left you humiliated and broken? How he had walked away from the life you were supposed to build together, without giving you the decency of closure?

Your jaw clenched, your hands balling into fists at your sides as you turned away from the door. A bitter laugh escaped your lips—short, hollow, and humorless. You felt like screaming, like throwing something, like letting out all the pain you’d been holding in since that day.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you walked away, forcing yourself deeper into the apartment. You wanted to put as much distance between yourself and that door as possible. Your mind was racing, every thought colliding into the next, until all that was left was a whirlwind of anger and grief that threatened to consume you whole.

And yet…

You stopped in the center of your living room, your eyes drifting to the door as the silence stretched on. You wondered if he was still out there, standing on the other side, stunned into silence.

You hated that part of you cared enough to wonder.

What did he think was going to happen? That he would knock, say a few words, and everything would be okay? That you would just forgive him? He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you.

But the thought of him still standing there, heartbroken, made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

Slowly, you sank onto the couch, dropping your head into your hands as the weight of it all settled over you like a storm cloud. You took a shaky breath, then another, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening to spill.

On the other side of the door, Spencer remained frozen.

The door was still vibrating faintly from the force with which you’d slammed it, and he stood there, staring at it like it might suddenly open again if he just waited long enough. His breathing was shallow, his face pale as his mind tried to process what had just happened.

He had expected anger. He had expected hurt. But the door slamming—so final, so absolute—hit him harder than he thought possible.

His hand hovered in the air, just inches from the wood, as though he might knock again. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Instead, he exhaled shakily, leaning forward until his forehead rested lightly against the door. His eyes squeezed shut as a wave of nausea washed over him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, though he knew you couldn’t hear him.

After a few long moments, he forced himself to straighten. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, turned slowly, and walked away—each step heavier than the last.

And inside, you sat alone, the sound of that door slam replaying in your head over and over again, louder than any explanation he could have given.

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adore-laur · 7 months ago

Text

FOR THE THIRD TIME

——

It's the usual time of night when Harry prepares his mind and body for a healthy eight hours of undisturbed sleep. And by undisturbed, that doesn't include being woken up by either of his daughters. It's not so much an interruption as it is a natural part of being a father. With years of practice, he's now a master of curing midnight wakings from nightmares, sugar rushes, sicknesses, and those fussy sleep regression phases.

Secretly, he loves the challenge and reward of it all. There's nothing better than calming a baby's cry or tiring out a toddler's hyperactive brain. Even when he does it while half-asleep, the feeling of being needed by his children is unparalleled.

After putting the kids to bed, Harry has a set of rules for himself: take a scorching hot shower, drink a mug of chamomile tea, and put away his phone and laptop. It creates an inner warmth that relaxes him from top to bottom. After expeditious kitchen shifts followed by hands-on parenting, the last thing he wants is eyestrain and an aching pulse at his temples.

He'll often read a mystery or historical fiction novel to guide his thoughts away from work. It's a simple pleasure to get lost in the pages, lit only by the bedside lamp as his eyelids grow heavy. He'll bookmark whatever page is the culprit of his sleepiness and save it for tomorrow. No printed words are worth a crick in his neck. Afterward, you'll eventually join him, and he'll spend his last minutes of consciousness with his skin pressed against yours, breathing in your familiar scent.

Tonight's routine goes a little differently, courtesy of you. Harry manages to take a shower, adding a dose of meditation toward the end, and is blow-drying his hair when you peek your head past the bedroom doorway. Your gaze searches for him, roving over the empty bed and open closet until it lands on him standing in the connected bathroom. He shuts the dryer off, sensing you have something of importance to tell him. You're dressed in pajamas already, the matching silk two-piece hugging your curves and providing him with glimpses of skin he was deprived of all day. Lord knows the thin material draped over your bare breasts will be the cause of greedy, wandering hands under the covers later. He nearly groans just thinking about it.

Blinking himself out of that lovely fantasy, Harry lifts his eyes back up to your face. "Hi, baby," he says, setting the dryer down and fluffing his unruly hair in the mirror. There is something so intimate about seeing his and your reflection right before bedtime, in the low light after a long day. The domestic simplicity of living together, sharing a space, and coming home to each other is a delight he always revels in.

"Hey," you say, smiling and leaning against the doorjamb. "I'll wait until you're done."

Still staring at you in the mirror, Harry grips the sink's edge and hangs his head dramatically. "Why must you torture me with those pajamas?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, please. You sleep nearly naked every night."

He finds you in the mirror again, his eyes heavy with lust. "And does it torture you?"

"I'll never tell," you reply, although a pretty blush stains your cheeks—a clear giveaway.

He smirks and says, "Give me a second. I'll be right there." He turns his attention back to his hair, but not before catching a brief flash of you practically skipping to the bed. With a warm feeling caressing his heart, he digs through the vanity drawer and finishes his routine, which consists of a spritz of sea salt spray in his curls, two swipes of Old Spice deodorant on his armpits, and a layer of maple-flavored lip balm that you'll probably—most definitely—kiss off within the next hour.

Flicking the light off, Harry makes his way to where you're sitting on the bed with a taped cardboard box in front of your tucked knees. It's only the size of half a shoebox. He sits and rests his back against the upholstered headboard, waiting for you to speak.

"Did you order a package from somewhere?" you ask, pushing the box toward him.

Harry frowns, his eyes narrowing as he tries to recall purchasing anything online recently. "I don't believe so. Why, did you?"

"No. It was on the front porch." You shrug, also confused by the mysterious box. "Must have just gotten delivered."

"Huh," he says. There's no return address, just a To: Harry Styles, and it leaves him stumped. Is it from a neighbor? A secret admirer? A stalker who is currently watching him through the window and waiting for him to open it?

New fear unlocked: a box with unknown origins.

Tearing his suspicious eyes away from the window—where thankfully no one lurks—he picks the box up and shakes it cautiously. Something inside shuffles, sounding like a solid object cushioned by something softer. Good grief, did he order something nonsensical while somnolent?

"I'm scared," Harry says bluntly.

You take the box and flip it all around like there could be a message hidden somewhere. Grinning, you say, "This is exciting. I love surprises."

"Then you should open it."

"Let's open it together," you suggest, crawling into his lap. With your back against his chest, Harry rubs his tired eyes and silently agrees. Sleep will only come harder if that unopened box sits menacingly throughout the night.

You seem unfazed by this random occurrence, but that's just how you are. The woman he married embraces the unpredictability of life and coaxes the curious nature he thought he grew out of as an adult. Now, staring at the harmless box, Harry follows your lead and digs his fingers into the topmost slit covered with flimsy tape. The cardboard gives way, and he opens the flaps slowly as if a wild animal might leap out.

He notices you aren't looking at the box's contents. Your eyes are trained on him; the eager expression you previously wore is now softened.

"What's in there?" you ask, your thumb stroking the intrinsic lines and curves of his palm.

Harry looks from you to the box several times, not understanding the shift in mood. You nod, encouraging him to reveal the secret. He discovers a white fleece blanket, small enough in size for his brain to fire a synapse that he can't quite comprehend just yet.

"A blanket," he says with utter confusion. "Who would send me this?" When you quirk your lips to the side, he takes a shot in the dark. "Is this from you?"

"I don't know. Let's see the blanket." Your voice has gotten hushed.

Harry carefully takes it out, the material soft and lush. Again, he realizes it's small, not large enough to cover a full-grown person. Not even a toddler.

At that moment, during those few seconds where Harry's brain connects the dots, is when he shakes the blanket out and reads the embroidered words Baby Styles. He freezes, staring at the cursive letters stitched delicately into... a baby blanket. As he tries to process everything, you set a pregnancy test in his loose grasp, the lightweight plastic heavy with significance. His body jolts with awareness as he frantically holds it under the lamp, his hands beginning to shake. The two lines are as clear as day. Not faint. Not just a possibility. Positive.

It isn't a complete surprise. There were serious, sit-down conversations about growing the family one more time. Questions of, Are we ready for another one? and When's the right time? were answered with mutual confidence. Then it was just a matter of trying, though not as stringently as the last two times. If it was meant to be, it would happen. There was no rush. There's beauty in taking things slow and not relying on hope alone. It requires patience, maybe even a little fate, and now Harry fully understands that good things come to those who wait.

"I'm pregnant," you whisper in his ear, not able to contain the joyous laugh that punctuates your statement.

Harry falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling with blurred vision. "This is real, right? You're not pranking me?"

You straddle his bare torso, beaming at him like an angel. "I tricked you with the box. But this—" you grab the test and vulnerably hold it in your palms—"is real. We have an appointment in two weeks."

Harry sits up quickly, anchors himself to your waist, and pulls you back down on the mattress with him. You giggle, limbs tangled and breathless with excitement. "Fuck," he says, kissing every inch of your neck. "I've been dreaming of this." He brushes your hair back with gentle fingers. "Another baby."

"Could be twins or triplets. You never know."

"Wouldn't that be something?" he muses, not even mildly frightened of that inconceivable thought.

Happy tears drip from your lashes. "I'm sure it won't feel real until, well, you know..."

Yeah, he knows. He had the privilege of watching you bloom twice. Each time was slightly different, with varying symptoms and measurements. What remained the same was your radiant beauty that somehow became even more pronounced as the pregnancies progressed. It was remarkable to witness. He couldn't believe you were able to create life so gracefully.

You take Harry's hand and place it on your lower stomach. There's no physical proof since it's far too early, yet he knows it will sneak up on him, and before long, he'll be cradling a crying baby in his arms. For the third time.

"Can we keep this a secret?" Harry asks quietly. "At least until you have a cute bump that can't be ignored anymore."

"Can you keep it a secret?" you tease. The last two pregnancies were revealed to family and friends, both times spoiled by him. Apparently, he was making it obvious by the way he touched you and the "hints" he wasn't aware he was dropping. The first time, during a summer get-together with your side of the family, he honestly doesn't remember holding your cousin's baby girl and cheekily saying, "I'm preparing." The backyard went eerily silent until you shouted the news to save his ass from fumbling through some half-baked explanation. The second time, during Christmas dinner, he really doesn't remember his hand drifting so evidently to your bump that you hid under a loose sweater. He may have been tipsy, so when his mother pulled him into the hallway and gave him a knowing look, he couldn't help but nod bashfully to confirm her motherly intuition.

"I'll be good, I promise," Harry says, making a show of locking lips and throwing away the key.

You cup his cheeks and attach your mouth to his. He melts into your sweet, tender kiss that he can't live without. "It doesn't matter to me. But I definitely want to get past the first trimester in case..." Your voice trails off, and Harry nods to show he understands the unspoken prospect.

"I guess I'm just feeling protective already," he murmurs, his hand traveling down your thigh. "I want you and this secret all to myself."

"You're a greedy, greedy man," you say, shifting your hips.

He groans. "It's these damn pajamas."

"Oh, you have nine months of torture ahead. You know why?"

"Why, sweetheart?"

You sigh. "Because there will come a time when these pajamas won't fit anymore. And poor me will be in the third trimester in the late summer, which means it'll be too hot to wear anything to bed."

Harry's jaw hangs open, filthy fantasies flashing through his mind at warp speed. "Yeah? Well damn, I better take advantage of the precious time I have left with them." He snaps the waistband of your shorts.

You laugh loudly, the sound filling the room like it was always meant to, and Harry takes it as an invitation to dive under the silk.

——

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #don’t ask how this happened #because i don't know

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eyekonvivi · 23 days ago

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The Seventh Star - Chapter 3 - Katseye x 7th member reader

3,1 k

Warnings : cuteness

Notes : That's it for chapter 3 ! I tried to make it as long as possible without making it too long. I must admit that i'm really proud of this one, I hope you liked it !

And I wanted to thank you for your comments and vote on both Wattpad and Tumblr :)

Two days later, We stood side by side on a velvet stage in front of flashing cameras. One of our first press showcase. Media from South Korea, France, the U.S and beyond had flown in to see the official seven-member debut.

The room was buzzing, the backdrop shimmering with Katseye's logo in platinum foil.

Each girl had taken turns answering questions. Until now, I thought the girls' answers were very well controlled, although the questions were not necessarily very pertinent and sometimes rather embarrassing. I waited silently for my question, reassured by Megan's calm presence beside me.

Then a voice from the crowd cut through the air :

" Y/n, some fans online were surprised by your addition to the group. Some say your vocals don't match the group's overall tone. How do you respond to that?"

Every head turned.

My chest tightened. The mic in my hands suddenly felt like a weight. I opened my mouth, but the words slipped away. Before I could form a full sentence, Megan leaned toward my mic.

"I don't know who those 'fans' are," she said, cool and confident, "but y/n's tone gives our harmonies depth. Some voices are soft-spoken until you actually listen."

There were murmurs of approval from the room.

I looked at her, stunned. Megan gave me a small, sideways wink.

Then, Sophia added, "Seven voices. Seven strengths. That's Katseye's foundation."

I found my voice again.

"I know I was a surprise to some people. But I'm not here to replace anyone—I'm here to add something. That's what music is, right? Layers."

Flashbulbs popped. The moment passed. But I could feel my hands shaking slightly even after the interview ended.

Megan bumped shoulders with me as we walked offstage.

" Welcome to the spotlight, seventh star."

" Thanks Meg, I really appreciate it " I reply, with a sincere smile.

As I feel an arm clinging to mine, Megan moves towards Daniela and I look away to Lara standing beside me, a teasing smile on her lips.

"So we're saved by her knight in shining armor, are we?" she whispers conspiratorially.

I blush slightly at her words before replying :

" She's not my knight in shining armor! She would have done it for any member of the group..."

"Sure" she replies with a wink, "Let's hurry up and get changed, Son told Yoonchae he was going to treat us to a restaurant after that awful interview."

We then head happily towards the rest of the group, who are talking half-amusedly, half-irritated in the dressing room about the absurd questions we've had to answer.

I watch with a smile on my face as Daniela's antics mimic Manon's hilarious reaction to being asked by a fan which band member she hated most during all the drama surrounding her during Dream Academy.

I change quietly, thinking about Lara's words, feeling at home in the group's chaotic atmosphere, which becomes more pronounced when Lara and Sophia decide to join Daniela in her imitations.

***

We enter the restaurant with Son and a few members of the production team. The atmosphere is intimate, with soft light emanating from the ceiling. The tables are covered with red-checked tablecloths, and the stereotype is so overdone that it makes me let out a discreet laugh.

At least, that's what I thought, because the whole group turns to me, including Son, who questions me, one eyebrow raised :

" Y/n ? What's so funny ?"

" I'm sorry, it's just that this restaurant is really a stereotype of French culture as seen by Americans, I find it quite amusing " I reply shyly.

" Ok, I was thinking that maybe you didn't like the restaurant... Although Megan insisted that we go to a French restaurant to cheer you up".

" It makes me happy Son, thanks a lot "

I then turn to Megan and whisper teasingly :

"So, Meg, you're influencing Son's decisions for me now ?"

"I, I just wanted you to take your mind off the horrible interview questions, well, uh, cheer up the group and, and what better way to do that than with French food? " she tries to justify herself, her cheeks slightly flushed.

" Yes, it's true that French cuisine never fail to comfort me , thank you Meg." I put an end to her misery with a warm smile.

From the corner of my eye, I see Lara struggling to hold back her laughter. I give her a murderous look, which she answers with a wink, before moving to sit next to Manon.

As I look around for somewhere to sit, I notice that the only empty seat is the one opposite Lara between Sophia and Daniela. The latter's animosity towards me seems to have eased somewhat over the last few days, but that's probably more to do with the fact that we're very busy and our interactions are professional and on camera.

So I'm a bit nervous when I sit down.

But no sooner do I get my butt on the chair than the conversations start and the girls, with the exception of Manon, bombard me with questions about French food. I try to describe each dish as best I can, until they all go back to their own menus.

I'm hesitating between the Quiche Lorraine and the Boeuf Bourguignon when I feel a discreet tap on my shoulder, I look up and see Daniela looking at me with an awkward expression.

"Uh, y/n, I just wanted to ask you what you were going to order because I have no idea what to choose..."

"I was hesitating between these two..." I point to my two choices on the menu "but I think I'll go for the Quiche Lorraine, it reminds me too much of my childhood."

At the end of my words, she concentrates on the menu, eyebrows furrowed in a way that I must admit is rather adorable, if you forget her usual temper for a second...

She then raises her head determinedly towards me, and announces, as if it were the biggest decision of her life :

" Okay, I will order the same thing then."

I let out a laugh at her behaviour, followed by Manon, who was watching our exchange. Daniela's brows furrow, and she adds with a smirk.

" So if it's not good, I can always blame your lack of taste."

"How generous of you" I add, before focusing my attention on the waitress who has just arrived at our table.

The meal is punctuated by laughter with the girls, Son's improbable annectotes and, above all, Daniela's various comments on the tasting of her Quiche Lorraine and the bits of food she steals from Manon and Lara's plates.

I observe her as, with her glass of white wine in hand, she makes a whole plea to me and Lara about how the egg on the latter's Croque Madame shouldn't be legal, and how awful the mixture is.

She actually seems to be in her element, surrounded by her friends, sharing her more childlike, fun side with me.

Maybe a friendship between us will finally be possible, or at least a proper professional relationship.

When the dessert menu finally arrives, I'm full of hesitation when I see that there's a Crème Brûlée and Macarons, both of which I really want, but I don't really want to be the only one to choose both.

Seeing my hesitation, Sophia gently suggests:

"We can share the two if you like, so you can eat both and I can discover even more about French gastronomy".

"We have a deal then" I reply with a smile.

When our two plates arrive, I share my dessert with Sophia while quietly discussing our opinions on the different tastes of macarons.

"You should try the caramel one, I swear it's to die for ! " Sophia tells me enthusiastically.

"Okay"

Just as I was expecting Sophia to place the macaron on my plate, she hands it to me, expecting me to bite it. I do so hesitantly, looking into Sophia's eyes as I take my first bite, her eyes slightly widening, but this moment is broken when I hear Yoonchae whisper to Lara :

" They really act like a married couple."

" Yes, they do", replies Lara.

Manon and Megan laugh in response, although when I meet Megan's eyes, I realize that her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. As for Daniela, she reacts in a blasé manner, adding:

"You're not going to reduce the amount of fan fiction about girl groups..."

The laughter starts up again, and is maintained by Sophia's particularly humorous laugh, which makes me laugh out loud.

Our meal ends in good spirits with a little speech from Son, who expresses how proud he is of what we've achieved so far. I leave the restaurant with tears of gratitude in my eyes, because even if the beginning wasn't easy, I feel that things can get better with the girls.

***

The next day

After our warm-up session, I find myself sitting on the floor, exhausted, and as Manon hands me a bottle of water, the music producer clapped her hands once, hard.

"Okay. I'm pairing people off for the unit stages next week. I want to see chemistry, contrast, vocal risk."

The room tensed. That tone meant challenge.

She read from her clipboard. "Sophia and Lara. Megan, Yoonchae and Manon. And... Y/n with Daniela."

Daniela's jaw shifted. I went still.

The room reacted quietly : exchanged looks, low whispers.

"Great," the producer said. "You'll be covering 'Bleeding Love' by Leona Lewis. Stripped-down version. Two microphones. One harmony, one lead."

Megan let out a low whistle. "They really said tension and tears."

Practice was painful.

Daniela barely looked at me. Their first rehearsal was spent in near silence, except for music cues and a few comments like :

" You're late on the downbeat."

" That run's unnecessary."

"Are you even breathing properly ?"

I tried to stay calm. Tried to focus. But the weight of the song— our lack of connection—made the performance fall flat every time.

By the third day, the producer finally paused the track.

"This isn't working," she said. " Not because your voices clash. But because you're clashing. Figure it out. "

She walked out, leaving us alone in the sound booth.

A long silence.

Finally, I broke it. "Do you hate me?"

Daniela glanced up sharply.

"I don't hate you," she said. "I just don't know how to trust someone who skipped the part where we bled for this."

I stepped forward. "I already told you that I didn't skip it. Mine just wasn't on camera."

Daniela stared at me "That's fair."

"Are you angry because I joined the group when I wasn't supposed to?"

"I, I kind of was at first, I was so obsessed with this idea of being a member of six with certain members in mind. But when I saw your name called instead of Emily, who I was so close to and who to me so deserved her place in the group, I don't know, it made me so angry..."

Another pause.

Then, softly : "You have control on the bridge. It's nice. When you're not second-guessing."

I blinked. "That almost sounded like a compliment."

Daniela smirked faintly. "Don't get used to it."

They ran the song again. This time, something clicked—not in friendship, not yet. But in rhythm. In breath. In the shared pain the song demanded.

It was a start

***

The next evening, I was in the practice studio late. Everyone else had left, but I had stayed behind to work on her choreography—alone, as usual.

Until the door creaked open.

Lara walked in.

I glanced at her through the mirror. Lara was always hard to read. Soft-spoken, analytical. Her expression was calm, neutral.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, half-joking.

"I sleep fine," Lara replied, sitting by the wall. "I just watch who stays late."

I stopped stretching. "Meaning ?"

"You and I have something in common," Lara said, tilting her head. "We both live just outside the center of the group. Observers."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think I am ? An outsider?"

Lara shrugged. "You kinda feel like one. But you still show up. That matters."

Silence.

Then, she added, more softly: " You don't perform for approval. That's rare here."

I felt something loosen in my chest. "You're not what I expected."

"Neither are you."

They didn't say much more that night. But Lara stayed for one full run-through of my dance. And when I hit my final move and looked up, Lara nodded once.

A quiet seal of recognition

***

After this late-night training session, we drive home with Lara, music blaring in the vehicle.

When we open the door, we notice voices in the dimly lit living room, bickering.

"No seriously, we've already watched Twilight far too many times for it to be legal. Why not a Disney? Rapunzel, for example. "

"We already watched Rapunzel three weeks ago Soph..."

"Yes, but it's a classic, we never get sick of it!"

"If you say so..."

After depositing our stuff in the entrance hall, we head for the voices and spot Manon and Sophia, on the sofa, bickering in front of a TV that itself seems bored with the argument.

"You're not asleep?" Lara asks.

"No, we wanted to have a movie session, but after watching Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone for the thousandth time, I thought it couldn't hurt to continue the evening on something else" Manon replies, at the peak of desperation.

"I see. Good luck with Sophia then, I'm going up to my room to call my sister. Good night girls!"

Lara gives us each a little hug before heading for the stairs.

"Do you want to join us y/n? So you can choose the movie and save us spending two hours choosing. "Manon suggests.

"Let me just go take a quick shower and I'll be right there, that'll give me time to think about the movie."

"We can make popcorn in the meantime!" says Sophia enthusiastically.

"You know how to talk to me, Sophia! "I reply with the same enthusiasm.

I hurry off to my room, where Yoonchae is fast asleep. Maybe I should go and shower at Lara and Megan's if I don't want to wake her up, she looks so peaceful. I quickly decide on this solution and grab my things as quietly as possible.

Je ferme la porte le plus délicatement possible puis me dirige vers la chambre de Lara et Megan avant de frapper doucement.

"Lara, are you still in here?"

I hear no reply, but light footsteps approach the door. It's an adorably disheveled Megan, her head half-covered by the hood of her hoodie, who opens the door for me.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?"

" Hey Meg, I just wanted to ask if I can take a quick shower in your bathroom because Yoonchae is sleeping so soundly, I don't want to wake her."

" You're such a cutie " she mumbles, fidgeting with her fingers " Uh it's giving older sister vibe! "

"Thanks, I just try my best. So it's a yes?"

" Uh yes of course. Come in, make yourself confortable, Lara is on the balcony chatting with her sister"

" Merci beaucoup. I shall hurry if I don't want Manon and Sophia to murder me or die of boredom waiting for me, see you soon! "

"Yeah, see ya," Megan replies, heading for her bed.

I then head for the bathroom and take the fastest shower of my existence while trying to think about the film. I get dressed quickly but realize too late that I forgot to take a t-shirt. So I call Megan through the door.

"Meg? Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow? I forgot to pick one up in my hurry earlier".

"Yes, I'm coming," I hear her muffled voice.

After a few seconds, her footsteps approach the bathroom door and she knocks gently, I leave just enough space to let her hand pass through with the T-shirt and close it almost immediately after thanking her.

The T-shirt she has handed me is a large Angel City soccer jersey with Megan's last name on the back. I'm just questioning her choice when I hear Sophia calling me from downstairs.

When I finally emerge from the bathroom, Megan looks me up and down with a slightly satisfied smile. I quickly walk over to her to give her a hug and add when I'm close to her ear in a soft voice:

"Thanks for the jersey sweetie. And good night! "

I barely have time to observe Megan's flushed face before I half-run out of the room to join Manon and Sophia who are already waiting for me, three huge bowls of popcorn in front of them.

"So what did you pick ?" questions Manon.

"Uh I thought we might watch..."

"Is that Megan's t-shirt you're wearing?" asks Sophia, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Yes, I didn't want to wake Yoonchae so I went to their room to shower but as I was rushing I forgot my shirt so Meg let me borrow one."

"Great, great but what movie are we watching ?" insists Manon.

"What do you think of The World of Narnia ?"

"Good idea !"

"Let's do that then."

Manon rushes to grab the telecomand as I settle between her and Sophia on the sofa.

Sophia seems in her thoughts as Manon searches for the film on the TV, concerned at her rare silence, I ask :

"Are you alright Soph ?"

"Yeah don't worry, I'm just tired".

As soon as the film begins, I grab my bowl of popcorn and devour it as avidly as Manon.

However, after about thirty minutes, I feel the effects of the training on my body and end up snuggling up to Sophia, resting my head on her shoulder before sinking into a deep sleep.

***

I wake up on the sofa, with a pillow under my head and a small blanket over my body.

But what worries me most is the smell.

The kitchen smelled like noodles and smoke.

I ran in coughing. "Is something burning ?!"

Yoonchae turned from the stove with a sheepish smile. "I forgot water boils."

I laughed. "You... forgot?"

"I got distracted trying to remix our setlist for fun," she said, waving her phone. "It kind of slaps though."

I looked at her. Yoonchae was chaotic in a way I would usually find exhausting—but somehow, with her, it was oddly comforting.

"You're not worried about all the pressure?"

Yoonchae leaned against the counter. "Pressure is a drumbeat. I just dance over it."

I grinned. " That's poetic."

"I get like that when I'm hungry and slightly choking on smoke."

We cracked the window open and ate instant noodles on the floor. We chatted about anything and everything, sometimes in a vague English, but it was enough for us in this moment, a morning spent around a quiet laugher.

It wasn't a deep heart-to-heart. But I realized that for Yoonchae, connection didn't come through speeches—it came through shared space, laughter, and not taking the world too seriously.

I was glad that, Yoonchae, my new roomate was in this group, I needed her young energy to keep me from slipping into the sometimes dark abyss of adulthood, and especially into the sometimes toxic environment of the music industry.

#katseye #added member #daniela avanzini #lara raj #lara raj x reader #manon bannerman #megan skiendiel #megan skiendiel x reader #sophia laforteza x reader #sophia laforteza #katseye x reader #seventh member of katseye #fluff #wlw #yoonchae x platonic reader #daniela avanzini x reader #female reader #chapter 3

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girlkisser13 · 4 months ago

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being married to mei mei would include

• mei mei KNOWS she’s a goddess— and she expects to be worshipped accordingly.

• when you kiss along her knuckles as she hands you a glass of wine, fingers tracing down her collarbone and murmur, "how could anyone not adore you?"— it never fails to make her blush every time.

• mei mei makes it clear from day one that she prioritizes money… but you’d be the one person who comes before any paycheck.

• you know how everyone gets that subtle, uneasy tension around mei mei— like they’re never quite sure if she’s flirting with them or planning their funeral?

• you’re the only person who ever gets to see her without that mask. with you, she doesn’t need to play games or manipulate— she can simply be.

• she’d stretch out across your lap in nothing but a silk robe, sipping wine while reading some ancient cursed text, completely at ease in her own skin because she knows the only person who could ever destroy her… would rather kiss her instead.

• you’re the only person allowed to see her with her hair down, face bare, wrapped up in a silk robe with her head in your lap while you play with her hair.

• she’d never say it out loud— but the second your fingers start trailing through those silver strands, her whole body goes loose and lazy like a cat in the sun.

• if you ever call her pretty in one of those moments? she’ll open one eye and smirk, "flattery will get you everywhere."

• she would sell out the entire jujutsu world if you asked her to.

• she leaves you handwritten letters whenever she’s away on missions— sealed with crimson wax and signed "yours, always.".

• mei mei has expensive tastes, and if you’re married to her, you’re living in luxury. first-class flights, designer clothes, penthouse hotels… the works.

• but it’s not just for show— she genuinely enjoys spoiling you. if you’re the type to feel guilty about it, she’ll smirk and tell you, "if you’re worth it, why not?"

• if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, the bounty on their head would be placed before they even realized what they’d done.

• the only way you’d ever know is if she casually mentions a "business expense" while checking her account.

• you don’t even realize how much she’s orchestrating your entire life behind the scenes.

• you got that dream job? mei mei made three phone calls.

• that weird stalker who was bothering you last month? disappeared.

• your favorite coffee shop suddenly has your order memorized, and they never charge you? mei mei slipped them a little extra on the side— not because she had to, but because she likes watching the world bend around you.

• if you’re in danger, she’ll handle it before you ever know. the only clue would be the way she holds you a little tighter that night, fingers running through your hair like she’s reminding herself you’re still there.

• she likes to trace her initials onto your thigh with the tip of her fingernail while you’re both half-asleep.

• mei mei is not one to constantly show affection, but when she does, it’s meaningful. she will show affection through small, intimate touches that reflect how much she trusts you.

• a hand on your back when walking together, or a hand on your arm when you’re sitting side by side— these moments may seem simple, but they carry a lot of weight.

• her whole personality is built on knowing she’s hot and making sure everyone else knows it too. but with you, there’s an added layer of genuine affection beneath the teasing.

• she LOVES making you flustered, leaning in close to whisper something suggestive with that lazy smile— only to laugh softly when you stumble over your words.

• when she calls you darling or traces a finger down your spine, it’s always genuine. even if her words drip with honey, the affection behind them is real.

• mei mei likes to kiss the inside of your wrist whenever she walks past you— not even thinking about it, just pure muscle memory

• she always presses a kiss to your forehead every time she leaves for a mission— always without fail, even if you’re half-asleep.

• you often come home to find her counting stacks of money on the kitchen table, smirking as she says, "another mission completed… i missed you, my love."

• she would work for free if it meant keeping you safe. you are the one luxury she could never afford to lose. <33

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sugardollyxoxo · 1 month ago

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hi doll >< i wear a school uniform, but i want to look more cute and dolly in it. my uniform includes a greyish blue skirt (not pleated so it’s kind of ugly), white shirt with blue tie, and a big blue blazer. i wear black stockings and black heeled shoes too! i’ve been wearing a scarf recently and it’s really cute. any tips? 🎀

🎀 I would love to help angel 🎀

Fun fact i've worn a school uniform my entire life so i def have some tips especially since my school was strict.

Accessories are everything- You have this part down already !!! they can elevate an outfit so much & can also become part of your signature style.

♡ Some cute hair accessories: headbands, bows (my fav), pearl clips, mini tiaras, and other cute barrettes

♡ Add cute pins or brooches to your blazer or tie

♡ If your school isn’t strict about hosiery switch it up !!! try frilly ankle sock or knee socks with cute patterns

♡ I also love love love adding necklaces, earrings, and bracelets for a cute touch

♡ And finally bag charms no joke i'm pretty sure you can hear me coming a mile away. I had a school issued backpack so adding my fav sanrio charms and other things to my bag made it feel more like me + they’re such a good conversation starter

Hair- Ahhh hair is one of my fave things, you can get so creative with it and for more dolly like styles these are my faves.

♡ Low curled pigtails + bows

♡ Blowouts

♡ And any other cute styles i see on Pinterest

Makeup- I know schools can be strict on this one so light makeup can be best in these situations but you adjust this to fit your needs.

♡ A light lip tint with clear lip gloss on top

♡ Swap out foundation for a full coverage concealer and spot conceal for a "your skin but better" look

♡ Clear brow gel or light brow tint + a light layer of mascara (or natural style falsies)

♡ Blush, i love blush so much, just adding a light tint gives you such a youthful glow

♡ Use a light shimmer on your eyelids and inner corner for that sparkly doe eye effect

some other tips

-This is literally my favorite thing ever, nails !!! if you can’t have more permanent nails get press ons, they are so easy to pop on and off and you can easily switch up the designs. I make my own and it’s so fun to do

-Use cute school supplies in your favorite color or with your favorite characters

-Roll up your skirt

-During the colder the months you can add a cute cardigan under your blazer !!!

#𝒹𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎'𝓈⟡ ݁₊ . 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓁 ✉️#girlblogging #dollette #dolly aesthetic #hyper femininity #girly girl #just girly things #virtual doll #coquette #pink aesthetic #pink blog #self confidence #dream girl #self growth #black girl blogger #self care #self improvement

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echoingspectrum · 1 year ago

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𝐶𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝐶𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡: 𝑦𝑒𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒 ( 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 )

As the head alchemist of the Alchemy Commission, it is your responsibility to oversee all alchemical experiments and research conducted by the commission. This includes ensuring the safety protocols are followed, analyzing the results of experiments, and providing guidance to other alchemists.

In addition to that, you must also welcome your special guest with the utmost importance and provide for any of their needs, no matter how obscene their demand is. However, this rule only applies to one certain individual who happens to visit your work very often.

"Stay silent." A gloved hand firmly pressed against your mouth, muffling any sound that threatened to escape. The intensity in his eyes made it clear that breaking the silence was not an option.

Not that you wanted to, but the thrill of getting caught is what fueled your adrenaline. The suspense hung in the air, making every second feel like an eternity as you wondered what would happen next.

"We wouldn't want anyone from the Alchemy Commission to see their precious head alchemist be seen as so obscene, do you~?" His voice oozed with a mix of menace and amusement, sending shivers down your spine.

You could only imagine the consequences if anyone discovered the head alchemist engaging in such forbidden activities. As you stared into his piercing eyes, you couldn't help but wonder how this would play out.

His hand slowly glides to your clothed breast, fondling it ever so gently, like he were holding a fragile piece of glass that is real and emanating comfort heat. As his other hand descends to your lower flower.

Fiddling with your bottoms till it dropped to the ground with a soft thud. Nimbling fingers went to the wet patch of your inner thighs, tracing delicate patterns that sent electric waves of pleasure through your body.

Muffled moans escaped your lips as he skillfully played with the base of your cunt. Giving your clit a squeeze and caress, he expertly applies just the right amount of pressure, causing a surge of intense pleasure to course through you.

Your body trembles in response as his touch becomes more insistent and his fingers explore every inch of your sensitive folds. Each stroke sends you deeper into a state of bliss, leaving you craving more of his touch.

Especially while wearing his gloves. The rough texture of the material adds an extra layer of sensation, intensifying every touch and stroke.

"Aeons, you're soaked. Have you actually been waiting for this?" he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

You blush, unable to deny the truth, as your body betrays you. Protesting won't help as your overwhelming desires accumulate. Your whole stature is trembling with anticipation, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"F-Fuck!" You stumble back against his chest, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered words of desire.

The anticipation builds as his hands continue their exploration, teasing and tantalizing every part of you.

You can't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him, yearning for the ultimate release that only he can provide.

Teasing it forth and back till it slid inside of you with ease, as if your body complies naturally to his every command. When suddenly he thrust his fingers deeper, hitting that sweet spot that sends an electrifying sensation to your core over and over again before adding an additional digit to add even more pleasure.

"I spend my entire morning in my chambers, only thinking of how your body molds against mine," Dan Feng confessed. Glancing at him, his draconic eyes burned with a mixture of desire and adoration.

"You have bewitched me completely," he whispered, his voice husky with longing.

You would've been replying back to him with the same amount of dulcet tones if it weren't for his digits plunging into your velvety cavern, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your ears caught the sound of your insides squelch with drips of your juice slipping out to the ground.

"D-Dan Feng⏤we shouldn't be doing this r-right now⏤ Ahh~" Your words faltered as you tried to resist the intoxicating pull between you, but the intense sensations overwhelmed your protests, concealed by the high elder's sudden passionate kiss that silenced any further objections.

Your guys' tongues danced in a wild tango, exploring each other's mouths with fervor and hunger. The taste of him mingled with the sweet sounds of your moans, creating a symphony of desire that echoed through the space.

Your legs are trembling, and your core is nearly bursting, thinking your sweet release is just within reach. The world around you fades away, as the only thing that matters is you and him.

As if pressing against you, aching to be inside. The anticipation builds, fueling the fire of your desire even more. Every touch and every kiss brings you closer to the edge of ecstasy⏤

"H-Hey!" You both suddenly break apart, startled by the unexpected interruption. Your eyes widen as you look at the High Elder himself, looking smug and amused at your half-fucked state.

His eyes were piercing through every inch of your features. The rich hue of redness painted your cheeks, your eyes heaved with desire and frustration that he could clearly see, and your wetness glazed the floor under you.

Disappointment and annoyance immediately went through your mind as you realized that the moment had been ruined. "W-Why did you⏤"

He shoved his gloved digits straight past your lips, which are coated with your sweet moisture.

"Silent," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

The taste of your own arousal lingered on your tongue as you obediently closed your mouth but moved your tongue to clean off the excess of your wetness from his fingers. The interruption left you frustrated and curious about what he had in store for you next.

"We'll be finishing this at my chambers. You can scream as loud as you wish."

#☆ echoing depths #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr dan heng #honkai star rail dan heng #character x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng #x reader #hsr dan feng #dan feng #dan feng x reader #smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng x reader smut #dan feng x reader smut

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darkshelbyfiction · 2 years ago

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Personal Whore (Kink Series)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: This Series will explore different fetishes including an innocence kink, somnophilia, anal play, watersports, bdsm, marking, edging, and anything else you would like me to include!

In this series, you are Thomas Shelby's maid. You are innocent and shy. This is your first job. Thomas Shelby takes an interest in you and pays you to become his personal whore. He makes you have sex with him in exchange of money, every day, using perverse techniques to satisfy his needs.

PART ONE: ORAL SKILLS

"You have been working for me for two weeks now Love and you recently turned 18, right?" Thomas questioned and you nodded timidly, nervous about what might come next.

"I... yes sir," you whispered softly, averting your gaze slightly out of shyness. The room seemed impossibly large and dimly lit, accented only by the flickering candlelight reflecting off the pristine white sheets upon the bed.

"Very well, that means that you are of legal age for my proposition." His voice dripped honeyed promises.

"Now let me ask you, Love... Do you know what some of the other maids here do for me in order to earn some more money?" your employer asked quietly, watching you closely.

"They perform various tasks, sir," you answered hesitantly, trying not to imagine where he could be going with this conversation.

"That's right," he said before looking at you with even more intensity in his gaze. "And do you know what these tasks entail?"

He asked, leaning closer, his proximity sending waves of anxiety through your body.

"Well," you began cautiously, choosing your words carefully. "Sarah said that, occasionally, she would touch you down there," you blushed, feeling mortified at having revealed such intimate information, albeit indirectly. You noticed a flash of excitement in his eyes when mentioning sensitive areas—a sign that perhaps this wasn't all just talk?

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable as he processed your response. Then he rose gracefully from his seat, moving deliberately toward you like a predator closing in on its prey. It felt odd being so close to someone with whom you had worked for almost two months without any physical contact beyond casual banter.

"She occasionally touches me, yes," replied Thomas, maintaining eye contact. "But it isn't always required – merely desired. So I wonder, my dear, how far would you go for some extra compensation?" He smirked subtly, inviting himself deeper into the territory where you were reluctant to venture.

The heat of the moment caused you to feel flustered and uncertain as you attempted to gauge the severity of Thomas' intentions. Your heart raced faster than ever before, threatening to escape your chest as sweat glistened lightly along your brow.

"You want me to touch your pe..., uhm, you know...down there..." your voice trailed off, unable to find the courage to say the word 'penis'. Thomas smiled reassuringly, appreciating your discomfort as he realized you hadn't quite grasped the extent of his proposal.

"Yes, sweetheart. I want you to touch my cock and, maybe, one day, you will even take it in to your mouth or let me put it into your pussy, eh," Thomas stated confidently while running his hand across your cheek, causing involuntary shivers to run up your spine.

Your face colored deeply with embarrassment, though it also held an undeniable hint of curiosity. While your desire to please and satisfy your newfound benefactor burned intensely, something inside you screamed that taking things further than simple caresses went too far - yet another layer of turmoil added to the complex relationship unfolding between you both.

Having sensed your inner conflict, Thomas chose to approach the subject tactically.

Slowly, tenderly brushing aside a lock of your hair, he asked: "How does that make you feel, sweetheart?" His tone betrayed no judgement or impatience, instead offering understanding and acceptance. "Do you think you can handle that sort of responsibility?"

You trembled underneath his gentle ministrations, torn between fear and arousal, struggling to process your rapidly evolving feelings towards your once strictly professional superior.

"I never even seen a man's private parts before, sir. I was saving myself for marriage, but some extra cash would sound nice too," Your statement came out as a quiet plea for guidance, a confession of ignorance that exposed your vulnerability.

"Well, for what it's worth, no one would ever find out, Love. Not even your future husband," Thomas said and there was a sinister edge to his tone.

"I know that you are a good catholic girl, but sometimes it is worth doing bad things for the right incentive, wouldn't you agree?" Thomas said before he decided to lay bare his plans for you. "So, listen very carefully. If you agree to carry out these tasks, then I promise you that I will give you double your usual wages for the duration of your employment. In addition, I will give you £500 for your virginity and loyalty. How does that strike you?"

Stunned and bewildered, you stared at him in disbelief. Double your pay for doing things you didn't understand fully and parting ways with your cherished purity – your whole world suddenly seemed to spin wildly out of control. Yet despite the magnitude of the choices facing you, one thing remained clear: continuing as your present self would lead to financial ruin.

With tears swelling in your eyes, you found yourself considering Thomas' offer, wondering whether surrendering everything you believed in truly amounted to nothing less than selling your soul. Still, it was difficult to resist the lure of instant prosperity, particularly given the dire straits you faced otherwise. As you struggled internally, Thomas watched patiently, waiting for you to decide. Finally, with a heavy heart, you made your decision.

Nodding solemnly, you declared, "Alright, Mr. Shelby, I agree, but I need you to triple my wages and add another £500 for my virtue."

With an approving smile curling at the corner of his lips, Thomas conceded, "Agreed. I will triple your wages and pay you a lump sum of £1,000 for your precious purity," your employer said before unbuckling his belt without bothering to remove the rest of his clothes.

"Understandably, you may need time to become comfortable enough to execute these duties adequately, so I shall start you off slowly," Thomas explained calmly before unzipping his pants and thereby exposing his erect member. Despite your reservations, you couldn't help but notice the size and firmness of his cock as he pushed down his pants halfway.

"It doesn't look so scary, does it, Love?" he murmured, his voice holding an undercurrent of amusement, attempting to ease your apprehension as he reached for your hand, guiding it tentatively towards his penis. With an anxious breath, you followed his instruction, marveling at the weightiness of his organ, still unsure of exactly what he expected from you.

As your fingers traced delicate patterns over his length, you discovered small nubs on the underside, eliciting a deep groan from him. Uncertain about your progress thus far, you glanced upwards briefly to catch sight of his reaction, finding satisfaction etched upon his features.

"See, Love, we're making headway already," Thomas commented gently, encouraging you with warmth.

Despite your lingering apprehensions, the confidence exuded by your master proved infectious, allowing you to relax somewhat and follow the path laid out before you.

Inch by inch, your exploration continued until you encountered the tiny knobbiness located near the base of his organ. Upon stimulating it, Thomas' moans grew louder, confirming your suspicion that you had struck gold.

Encouraged by this success, you bravely moved onto his sacrum, discovering that a soft ticklish patch accompanied it. Smiling sheepishly, you proceeded to explore the area thoroughly. After satisfying yourself with a leisurely tour, you finally turned your attention back to the main event – his impressively throbbing phallus.

Feeling emboldened, you took hold of the tip, applying a slight pressure that resulted in a low grumble emitting from Thomas.

Taking hold of your hand again, he positioned it correctly, demonstrating proper technique. Encouraged by his expertise, you mirrored his movements and gradually increased the strength of your strokes, matching his fervent pace.

"That's it, love! Keep going!" he urged, his hands now wrapped tightly around yours before making a somewhat unusual request.

"How do you feel about taking my cock into your mouth, Love?" Thomas whispered huskily, watching your every move closely.

"You want me to do what?" you asked, still feeling uneasy about performing such acts. The mere idea sent waves of nervousness coursing through your body, prompting your limbs to quiver.

"I want you to practice sucking my cock, Love," Thomas insisted matter-of-factly, a commanding authority evident in his tone.

Swallowing hard, you hesitated for a brief moment before asking timidly, "Like a lollipop?"

"No, not like a lollipop, Love," Thomas replied, his words filled with amused indulgence. "Just wrap your lips around the head first and start by licking off my pre-cum. Trust me, it won't be as terrible as you might imagine."

His assurance did little to alleviate your anxiety, but nonetheless, you nodded obediently.

Gingerly, you took his thick shaft into your small hands, immediately experiencing a strange mixture of revulsion and fascination.

Carefully lowering your head, you pressed your tongue to the engorged head, savoring the salty taste of his precum.

"There you go, sweetheart. Lick around the ridge just above the hole," Thomas instructed you kindly, clearly aware of how intimidated you were feeling.

"That's a good girl," he told you and, just as you obeyed his directive, your fingers simultaneously worked to stroke the entire length of his impressive manhood.

"Now take me in your mouth, sweetheart. As far as you can," Thomas commanded authoritatively, his voice full of raw demand as, with trembling fingers, you complied, opening wide to accommodate his girth.

"Beautiful," Thomas breathed, appreciating your attempt before holding onto your hair and pulling slightly to guide your mouth deeper down on his erection.

As your lips grazed the sensitive skin beneath his glans, a wave of dizziness assaulted you, leaving you gasping as you tried to regulate your breathing.

"There you have it, sweetheart, take it all," Thomas directed firmly, pressing your mouth harder against him. Gulping reflexively, you felt the foreign object filling your mouth, causing your cheeks to bulge comically.

"I will fuck your throat now," Thomas muttered roughly, thrusting himself further into your open mouth, causing you to gag involuntarily. Your eyes watered with the unexpected intensity of sensation. But even amidst the choking panic, something inside you recognized an undeniable thrill.

Thomas held you firmly in place, ensuring you maintained eye contact throughout the experience. As your struggle to maintain control intensified, so did his aggressiveness.

"Good girl," he growled approvingly when you managed to adapt quickly, albeit tears streaming down your face and saliva dripping from your chin.

His cock now nestled comfortably within your tender throat, Thomas began moving faster, building momentum. His touch became more forceful as you submitted to his demands blindly, consumed by newfound passion.

"Do you know what happens to a man when he orgasms, Love?" Thomas asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow playfully as he continued to use your mouth and throat for your pleasure.

Confusion crossed your face, unable to discern the meaning behind his inquiry as you shook your head.

"Well, when I cum, seed will spill out from my cock right into your eager mouth," Thomas clarified casually while fondling your wet cheek. "Are you ready for that?"

Your brow furrowed, processing the implications of his statement. It dawned on you that your role as his sexual submissive required complete submission, including receiving the ultimate release from your employer.

You nodded silently, acknowledging your willingness to accept whatever fate awaited you. And as Thomas' hips started bucking violently, indicating his imminent climax, you steeled yourself, preparing for the inevitable outcome.

"Good girl. I want you to swallow my load completely," Thomas ordered, his voice rough with anticipation as he thrusted in and out of your throat. Without question, you opened wider, bracing yourself for the sudden explosion. As Thomas' hips jerked forward, releasing a torrent of hot semen directly into your gaping mouth, you could barely contain your shock. The searing liquid burned your throat, stinging fiercely, but you endured, determined to satisfy your master. Consequently, Thomas let loose a powerful roar, his muscles tensing powerfully, as his body convulsed in ecstasy.

Pulling away from your tender mouth after the volley was spent, he looked deeply into your eyes, searching for any signs of resistance or regret. Finding none, a satisfied smirk formed across his lips. "Very good indeed, Love. Now open your mouth and show me your tongue once again," commanded Thomas, placing one palm on either side of your face. Submissively, you parted your lips to expose your reddened tongue, waiting patiently for further orders. "Keep practicing, because soon you'll be giving me blowjobs regularly until, in two weeks or so, I will fuck this virgin pussy of yours," he informed you confidently, running his finger along your neck, arousal evident in his gaze.

Understanding implicitly that your services would extend beyond the confines of today's encounter, you silently accepted your fate without protest.

After all, despite the humiliation and unfamiliar experiences you underwent, there remained an inexplicable allure. Something about submitting entirely to the desires of another piqued an unidentifiable desire deep within you, stirring feelings that seemed almost forbidden. In time, perhaps these indistinct yearnings could evolve into something concrete and tangible. For now, however, you must focus solely on perfecting your skills as Thomas' personal pleasure provider and you soon learned that his requests are more than just a little unusual.

#cillian murphy #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #cilliean murphy smut #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy selby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #tommy shelby fic

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noxiatoxia · 11 days ago

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Beta Sprites in Danganronpa File Folder Merch

So, yes, I finally got all my Danganronpa file folders scanned!

To bring everyone up to speed, some time ago, I was browsing Dangan merch in hopes to find any with beta sprites, when I came across this on the Danganronpa Wiki:

Despite its low quality, I could tell already that both Mioda and Pekoyama's sprites were...not quite right. As such, I went online to hunt down this and other similar folders to buy. Luckily, they're not super rare, and I was able to get a bundle including this and the other major one I was looking atーplus several othersーfor only ¥2500 (roughly $17 USD).

I got them a while back and just have been...really bad about scanning them XD but I finally got them professionally scanned! Here is the HD scan:

Besides just being cute, there is a lot to talk about here in regards to beta sprites.

First, though, I open with bad news: the Hinata sprite used is not a beta sprite, which really bums me out. The good news is, every other sprite is! And some I've only ever seen on this one folder!

Let's start with the most glaringly obvious one.

Not having the white sparkle in her eye is a massive tip-off to this not being the same sprite. But of course, that's not the only difference; Mioda's entire face was reworked including her mouth, chin, right eye, and nose. As well, her left eye was moved more to the center of her face.

Minor changed can also be observed, such as the detailing in her ear, her hand, her neck, and the folds on her clothes.

This is not the only time this Mioda sprite can be seen. It is used in the other file folder I'll cover, but more notably, is accidentally used in UTDP as one of her cards:

Now, truth be told, if it was just this Mioda sprite being the only beta, I probably wouldn't have bought it (oh, who am I kidding, I still would have...) because at this point in time, I already knew of her UTDP card. But what really interested me was Pekoyama's, as I had never seen a beta of that sprite before...

Now to finally have the folder in question and able to do a proper comparison, it's more different than I could have ever imagined!

Pekoyama's whole face was changed, which seems to be a bit of a running theme with a lot of Pekoyama's beta sprites. Her face used to be much wider, and in this particular sprite, her expression much more angry. Her hair was not fully detailed yet as you can tell from the lack of some line art. Her ear was also redone. As well, her bangs changed a lot. It's hard to tell with both Saionji and the palm tree blocking it, but it seems her hand was much less detailed as well.

I'm actually very in love with this beta sprite, and would love to recreate an HD version of it sometime.

In time since, I have found one other place this beta sprite can be found...albeit in much worse quality and the non-blushing version. Would you believe me if I told you it was from the game's Taiwanese manual?

Buuuut that's for another post. Don't worry, I'm already in the middle of writing it up.

For Saionji, I decided to try and help the comparison a bit by using some color-changing-magic since her changes are so small they're easy to miss. Sadly, Saionji betas are about as rare as Hinata ones. But this one I don't think I've ever seen outside of this folder! So, that's cool.

Anyways, back to the sprite. So, here are the smaller changes: it seems the bottom of both of Saionji's ears were increased a bit in volume. More noticeable is her hand; they added the wrist joint and erased some line art to her fingers. Below her hand, it looks like they increased with width of her Kimono sleeveーspecifically, the orange outside layer.

Elsewise, I don't see many other differences.

This Sonia sprite is one we've seen briefly in the original PSP version when it comes to the consent sprites. However, there, it was tightly cropped, not letting us see much outside her face. Here, we get a better look: many changes were made to her hair, from the strands that go down her shoulders to the bangs and the braid. The hair in the back is less wide in the final sprite (which I tried my best to highlight underneath since just layering the image would make it hard to distinguish).

Many folder in her clothes were redrawn, including the cuff on her right arm. Speaking of arms, her elbow was made less sharp and more anatomically correct.

I also find it interesting to spot an error in the bow's coloring. At first, I thought the beta sprite simply had three big dots clustered together instead of two. But looking closer, it looks like some of the coloring for her hair accidentally got overlayed onto the bow!

You can see the white dot just underneath the cloud of bright gold.

What's also interesting is this "cloud of gold" seems to follow the formation of Sonia's hair halo. Overlaying the beta's bow to the final sprite's hair...

The trajectory matches! Which makes me wonder why the hair halo is appearing on the bow but not Sonia's hair in the beta sprite. I imagine the hair's coloring must have been on a higher layer than the lighting. So the layer situation might have been:

Layer 1: Hair

Layer 2: Lighting

Layer 3: Bow

When in fact, Layer 2 was supposed to be moved above Layer 1... That's what makes sense to me, at least.

As for Nanami, she has some very minor but noticeable changes. Specifically, her mouth was redrawn, and they hadn't quite sharpened the line art for her bangs yet. The two stray hairs curled by her throat were also touched up on come the final sprite.

Also, she seems to have a stray, very long eyelash on her left eye XD. Thankfully, this was fixed.

Nanami is also another example of a character who has their exact beta sprite being reused for UTDP.

Moving on...

I'm always entertained by how wonky Tsumiki's betas often look XD. For this one, her eyes got entirely realigned. When I first looked at Tsumiki's sprite here, I could tell it was off but I wasn't quite sure how. It seems the eyes are pretty different! Not only that, but her hand was made a lot smaller, including her pointer finger, while adding the wrist joint. Some folds in her clothes were redone on both shoulders, and it appears the line art for her right arm nook was decreased in length.

The only other place I know of this sprite appearing is a one-off merch line that is much harder to come by, so I'm glad we have this folder to give us a better idea.

Finally, we're down to Owari and Koizumi. Both these betas only appear on this specific folder as far as I know, which is super neat!

Don't let the stark color contrast disorient youーthere's quite a few small changes happening here.

For one, Koizumi's left eye has the bottom eyelashes fixed, whereas before they seemed to be crooked and oddly numbered. Hair wise, we can see one of the blades of hair near the tip of her left eye was sharpened instead of being left blunt. The line art in general for her hair was sharpened and extended.

Something interesting to note is that Dangan sprites will often fix the line art layer but not the color or shading layer to match the new line art. The shading will be in compliance with the old line art that was erased. With this in mind, I can't help but wonder what Koizumi's hair was supposed to look like. Look at the shading for her bangs; it looks completely wild! What the heck did the line art look like before...?

Moving on though, we can see that the folds in her clothes were largely changed, as well, seam lines were added. It also appears her tie was extended horizontally by her chest.

Finally is Owari, who I also tried to edit the colors on to make the comparison a bit easier.

A lot has changed here in ways I wouldn't have expected. Usually, clothes are largely left alone save some minor details, but it seems every major fold in Owari's clothes were redrawn, including the buttons. Her left hand was given a bit more detail, as was her neck. Sweat was added to her neck and to her breasts also.

As for her face, most notably, it seems her mouth is one solid color! Instead of a tongue and back mouth, only the color of her tongue was used to color in her mouth, which is rather odd. Otherwise, her eyes were changed ever so slightly to be less narrow and her ear was redone as well.

Also quite interesting is the fact her hair was considerably shrunk; the beta sprite has much larger hair off to the side and her ahoge was significantly decreased. Funnily, you can still see the shading from where the ahoge used to be placed on the final sprite.

As said, shading usually doesn't get updated with the line art for whatever reason.

...And that's it! Whew! What an amazing treasure trove of beta sprites in just one piece of merch. I have one more file to analyze, so I'll be back pretty soon. Once I upload that, I'll upload all these scansーas well as the scans for the regular folders that just have generic (but pretty) splash artーonto my site for all to view in HD!

Before I go, I also want to share the back of this folder because it's just as cute:

#peko pekoyama #mahiru koizumi #hiyoko saionji #akane owari #chiaki nanami #mikan tsumiki #sonia nevermind #ibuki mioda #danganronpa #dr #sdr2 #;danganbetasprites #;noxiatalksia

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choerypetal · 2 years ago

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Having a relationship between Mike Schmidt and Steve Raglan

Having to share a relationship between Mike Schmidt and Steve Raglan would be interesting (SFW & NSFW) hihi Enjoy!

SFW

If a romantic entanglement involving Mike, Steve, and yourself were ever to materialize, it's worth noting that they aren't particularly keen on sharing. Especially if one of them feels that they monopolizing their time with you a little too much. You see, to them, you serve as both entertainment and a source of distraction to maintain their sanity.

Steve had a distinctive approach to relationships. He relished role-playing scenarios and enjoyed seeing you play the role of a devoted partner. Upon returning from work, he had an expectation that you would have dinner prepared for him upon his arrival. That meant, dressing like a wife and being meticulously responsible with your duty.

Steve had a deep appreciation for your culinary skills. Every Friday, as a gesture of gratitude for your kindness and domestic attentiveness, he would order takeout on his way home. This package usually included a thoughtful card, a bouquet of flowers, and a bottle of wine. And each evening would often culminate in a relaxed yet passionate encounter.

In contrast to Steve, Mike had a completely different perspective. Having faced numerous challenges in his life, he viewed you as the love of his life. This sentiment often translated into him tenderly embracing you, wrapping his arms around your waist when he returned home from work, eagerly anticipating dinner. His guilt for not assisting with meal preparations weighed on him, but you, understanding how exhausted he was, firmly insisted that he relax and even allowed him to rest his head on your shoulder.

While you appreciated his efforts to assist you, you also took pleasure in witnessing his relaxation. It was a rare sight, the way he would occasionally sneak a kiss from you, even when you pretended to be asleep before he headed off to work. It was these small gestures that brought him great joy. Sometimes, they led to extended cuddling sessions that seemed to stretch for hours, only to be interrupted by the reminder that he had to return to work.

NSFW

Dry Humping :

This was a favorite experience for both of them. Mike, in particular, preferred a gentle and unhurried approach. He took pleasure in watching the gradual blush deepen on your cheeks with each tender moment. The subtle friction between your lingerie and the warmth of his clothing held a special allure for Mike. Let's just say that Mike reveled in intimate moments that were passionate and unhurried. In fact, there were times when he was so exhausted that he willingly relinquished control to you. When he returned home from work, he'd head straight to his room, a subtle invitation for you to join him. You'd often find him already asleep, lying on his back, his face turned towards you with closed eyes. Sometimes, the sensations of your movements would stir him, leaving you in suspense, unable to discern whether he was truly asleep or not. This ambiguity added an extra layer of enjoyment to the experience for both of you.

For Steve, it was the complete opposite. Whenever he was engrossed in work or engaged in a call with a client, you would stealthily enter his office, taking extra care to make no noise that might raise suspicion. This clandestine rendezvous was something Steve found quite enjoyable. As you approached him, it was you who would assert control before he had a chance to resist. Only once the calls and other tasks were completed would he finally wrap his arms around your petite waist. The sensation of your clothes rubbing against each other would gradually intensify, transitioning from a slow pace to something more urgent. Your voice would fill the room, calling out his name, as he leaned in to explore the curve of your neck, his full lips eagerly exploring every inch they could reach.

Peaking :

Mike typically wasn't one to sneak a peek, but when he was truly captivated, you couldn't underestimate his curiosity. His fascination often went a bit overboard whenever you entered the same room as him. You began to notice this when you returned late from your job at the local canteen, still wearing the uniform that your boss required all waitresses to wear. Exhausted from your long day, you inadvertently forgot to lock the door while changing, and this presented an unexpected opportunity for Mike. Although he had seen a naked body before, it was his way of expressing his deep admiration for you. While it may have seemed a bit strange at the beginning of your relationship, you eventually grew to appreciate how his eyes would light up as each piece of clothing was removed. Even the subtle moments, like when you knelt down to retrieve something you had dropped, only to find Mike discreetly stealing a glance, became endearing in their own way.

Steve had a more uninhibited approach to peeking. While Mike would either request it in advance or on specific occasions, Steve didn't bother with such formalities. In fact, he often indulged in discreet glances in your direction whenever you made any kind of movement. Whether you were bending down to pick something up from the floor or leaning forward to him, providing him with an enticing view of your cleavage, Steve didn't hold back. Sometimes, when Steve visited the Pizzeria where you worked, your role as his employee also meant being at his beck and call for whatever he desired that evening. As the boss, he expected you to accommodate his requests, and if that involved being a source of temptation for him, he was sure to make it abundantly clear.

Intercourse :

Mike had a preference for unhurried and passionate encounters. He wasn't inclined to opt for quickies, and if the thought ever crossed his mind, it was likely during a moment of urgency. In general, he favored languid and intimate sessions, whether it was in the morning, sometimes in the shower, or at night – especially if you managed to steal away to the Pizzeria to entice him. He was the kind of lover who left you in a state of lingering desire, a reminder of who you belonged to, without being overly rough and leaving you sometimes when he dared to with a hint of looping tease. However, if he did go a bit too far, which you didn't mind at all. In fact, you found his earnest apologies endearing, and it even added an extra layer of intimacy to your relationship. To this, Mike didn't raise any objections.

Steve, on the other hand, had a fondness for the intensity of quick and passionate encounters. He took pleasure in witnessing your eyes roll back in ecstasy as your bodies ignited with desire, feeling your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving their mark all over you. Steve delighted in the idea of demonstrating that you were unequivocally his, regardless of the setting, even if it meant a hasty encounter in a department store's changing room. While he wasn't particularly keen on public spaces, your fascination with them was one of your fantasies that deeply aroused him, pushing him to explore more daring encounters, including in his office. Steve wasn't hesitant to leave tender red marks on your buttocks, eliciting your passionate pleas and cries for his name, often rendering you unable to move the next day. This, in turn, led to teasing and left you blushing intensely, with a pout that invited a mischievous grin to dance across his face.

After care :

Mike was incredibly nurturing and affectionate when it came to post-intimacy care. After both of you had reached the peak of pleasure, and with exhaustion from your busy days taking over, you often found yourselves napping for extended periods. His lips would tenderly pepper your warm skin, repeating declarations of love for you. Sometimes, he'd suggest taking a soothing shower together, and on other occasions, he'd wrap his arms around you to cuddle for hours, all the while engaging in lighthearted conversations about life and sharing silly dad jokes. This would often result in Mike monopolizing the conversation, but he would always pause to place a gentle kiss on your lips, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your body, conveying a desire to hold onto that intimate moment for as long as possible.

Despite Steve's dominant and somewhat sadistic tendencies, he possessed a unique and caring side, which may have seemed peculiar to some but was endearing to you. After an intimate session, he would tenderly scoop you up in a bridal style if you happened to be at home. Steve would then prepare a soothing, warm bath for both of you, complete with a glass of wine, all in an effort to pamper and clean you. He'd wash away any traces of the session and proceed to plant more kisses on your skin, as though the ones he had left earlier weren't sufficient. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sensation of his plump lips caressing your soft skin, especially as the warm bathwater enveloped both of you. Steve had a penchant for the simpler pleasures in life, and if a bath and some extra cuddling brought happiness to your world, it was all that truly mattered to him.

#josh hutcherson x reader #micheal afton x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #imagines #fnaf #fnaf movie x reader #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #x reader #fnaf smut #mike schmidt smut #steve raglan smut #william afton #william afton x you

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perfectlovevn · 6 months ago

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Perfect Love Devlog #51

I got sick yesterday, but before that I as able to work a bit more on this scene. I had to redo some of his sprites for blushing and whatnot. The sprites lag a whole bunch because of how many layers of animations are on it, which is... I have no idea how to fix that, I don't think I really can. There's only a handful of things to add for this scene including his nametag and a couple of scenes I need to draw for the mini CGs, and the small version of him when you try to leave the game.

After this I probably need to work on adding some stuff for the "fun factor" in terms of writing. For that one ask about how Manipulation Milo and Emil will interact, I thought it was such a good idea that I'll probably just add that in as an event. Yay.

#about valli #about gamma #perfectlovevn #perfect love vn #yanderevn #yandere vn #perfectlove dev logs

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 5 months ago

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Never Have I Ever...

Pairings: Poly!Moonflower x disabled!reader Summary: A game of Never Have I Ever reveals that you and Lily have been dating Remus. Tags: disabled!reader, no use of y/n, gryffindor common room chaos, depictions of underage drinking and drug use, weed in hogwarts, party game shenanigans, never have i ever gone too far, accidental threesome, suggestive references, reader in a wheelchair, flirtation by firelight, remus is high and affectionate, lily is a menace and we love her for it, remus is smoother than he has any right to be, emotionally chaotic but tender, MDNI to be safe. Word count: 1.2k words.

The Gryffindor common room is alive with an energy that vibrates through the air, fueled by the smell of butterbeer—warm and inviting. A hint of smoke from cigars someone snuck in mingles with it, adding a layer of rebellion to the atmosphere. The echo of laughter bounces off stone walls as teenagers come together, shedding the weight of expectations for a while.

You're sitting comfortably in your preferred armchair by the fire, the flames flickering and casting dancing shadows on the walls, your wheelchair folded beside the armchair. Lily rests on your lap, her head on your shoulder, her soft laugh punctuating the stories you share.

Across from you, Remus lounges in another armchair, his eyes slightly unfocused from the joints you both shared in your room before the party started. Every now and then, his lips curve into a small smile at some passing comment, though he doesn't join the conversation. His presence is subdued but solid, like a quiet anchor amidst the chaos.

And oh, how chaotic it is. Boys chase each other around the room, their faces flushed with alcohol and adrenaline. Girls huddle together in corners, whispering secrets and giggling behind their hands. The noise level rises and falls like the tide, a cacophony of youthful exuberance that drowns out any semblance of order.

This is how Gryffindor parties usually are—loud, messy, and teetering on the edge of complete pandemonium. But tonight, there's an undercurrent of something more, something intangible that makes the air hum with anticipation.

"Alright!" Marlene's voice rings out above the chatter, sharper than usual. She waves her wand and the room quiets, all eyes turning towards her. "We're playing Never Have I Ever. Grab your drinks and be prepared to spill your secrets."

You sigh softly, and Lily gives you a knowing smile from where she's perched on your lap. "This will be fun," she whispers in your ear, though you're already dreading the questions that are sure to come.

The game starts off easy enough. "Never have I ever kissed a Slytherin," Marlene announces, and a few people take a drink—including Sirius, who grins unabashedly as everyone teases him. "Never have I ever nicked something from Filch's office," someone else offers, and this time, nearly everyone drinks.

As the rounds continue, the confessions become more personal, more risqué. By the time it's Marlene's turn again—her cheeks flushed with laughter and the glow of firewhisky—most of the players are either giggling uncontrollably or slurring their words.

Leaning forward, Marlene surveys the room, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, my turn again." She pauses for effect, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Never have I ever... been in a threesome."

The room erupts in laughter and surprise, a flurry of movement as the boys jostle each other playfully, feigning shock and outrage. James and Sirius exchange glances, their eyebrows raised in interest.

But then, in the momentary lull that follows, something unexpected happens. Your hand moves almost of its own accord to your glass, lifting it to your lips. Beside you, Lily does the same, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. And across from you, Remus—who has been mostly quiet throughout the game—also takes a sip from his drink.

The reaction is immediate. Sirius's chatter cuts off mid-sentence, his attention snapping towards you, James's eyes widen, a stunned expression crossing his face, and Marlene's mouth drops open in surprise.

You catch Lily's eye, a smile tugging at both your lips. Her cheeks are flushed, not from embarrassment but from the warmth of the alcohol and the thrill of this. You see Remus stiffen slightly, his hand tightening around his drink.

"Wait—what?" James finally splutters, breaking the stunned silence. "You—all three of you?"

"It was an accident," you blurt out, a weak attempt to deflect the sudden scrutiny. In retrospect, it's probably the worst thing you could have said.

Sirius chokes on his drink, coughing as laughter bubbles up despite the situation. "An accident?" he echoes, incredulous. His voice pitches higher with disbelief. "How the bloody hell does a threesome happen by accident?"

Before you can stutter through some semblance of an explanation—not that could, really—Remus rises from his seat, his limbs unfolding with a languid grace that seems entirely out of place given the situation. "Allow me to demonstrate," he says, and there's a gleam in his amber eyes that suggests he's enjoying this far too much.

Your heart lurches as Remus crosses the room in a few easy strides. He leans down, one hand coming to rest gently on the side of your face, and kisses you. It's slow and deliberate, a display of confidence and assurance that leaves no room for doubt. His thumb brushes lightly against your jawline before he pulls away, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The room falls silent, the only sound the crackling fire and the sharp intake of breath as everyone tries to process what they've just witnessed. Then Remus turns slightly, leaning down to press his lips to Lily's in a kiss that is equally unhurried and certain. She laughs against him, her hand curling into the front of his jumper as the room erupts into chaos.

"Merlin's beard," Sirius mutters, sinking back into his seat. It's as if he's been physically struck, the impact leaving him winded and wide-eyed.

James's gaze shifts between the three of you, his expression a blend of bewilderment and admiration tinged with a hint of envy. Peter looks on, eyes round behind his glasses as if mentally filing away every detail for later recounting. Marlene's laughter rings out, a bright note against the stone walls, ricocheting with the force of revelation.

"Wait, wait," James stammers, shaking his head as though trying to clear it of fog. "Are you—are all three of you—?"

Lily pulls away from Remus, her hand sliding down to rest at his elbow. Her lips curve into a catlike grin, and she wipes a smudge of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know, Potter?"

Sirius's gaze darts to Remus, a flicker of betrayal flashing across his features before settling into disbelief. "And you didn't think to mention this?"

"Didn't seem like breakfast conversation," Remus replies with a nonchalant shrug, hiding whatever amusement he might feel behind a stoic mien.

James groans and drops his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking with unspoken laughter or perhaps despair—it's hard to tell. Sirius, meanwhile, is frozen in his seat, staring blankly at the table as if the very fabric of reality has been yanked out from under him.

Lily looks at you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I think we broke them," she whispers, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in suppressed laughter.

Remus leans back in his chair, stretching out comfortably. A smirk plays on his lips, as if he's enjoying the chaos unfolding. "That's what they get for playing stupid games."

You can't help but chuckle as the room descends into a flurry of questions, accusations, and demands for more information. Yet despite the clamour, you notice that James and Sirius keep stealing glances at the three of you, their expressions wary and curious. This topic, it seems, isn't going away anytime soon.

#poly!moonflower x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #lily evans x reader #lily evans x you #poly!moonflower x you #marauders au #marauders era #marauders fanfic #chantelle writes fic

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