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sirfrogsworth · 11 months ago

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Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

#photography #photo restoration

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year ago

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First, let’s address the fact that hackers recently accessed the personal data of about 14,000 23andMe customers. Because of how 23andMe works—it has a “DNA Relatives” feature that lets users find people they are probably related to—this breach created 6.9 million “other users” who had data stolen in the breach, according to reporting by TechCrunch. This data included people’s names, birth year, relationships, percentage of DNA shared with other 23andMe users, and ancestry reports.

[...]

Getting your DNA or your loved ones’ DNA sequenced means you are potentially putting people who are related to those people at risk in ways that are easily predictable, but also in ways we cannot yet predict because these databases are still relatively new. I am writing this article right now because of the hack, but my stance on this issue has been the same for years, for reasons outside of the hack. In 2016, I moderated a panel at SXSW called “Is Your Biological Data Safe?,” which was broadly about the privacy implications of companies and other entities creating gigantic databases of people’s genetic code. This panel’s experts included a 23andMe executive as well as an FBI field agent. Everyone on the panel and everyone in the industry agrees that genetic information is potentially very sensitive, and the use of DNA to solve crimes is obviously well established. At the time, many of the possible dangers of providing your genome to a DNA sequencing company were hypothetical. Since then, many of the hypothetical issues we discussed have become a reality in one way or another. For example, on that panel, we discussed the work of an artist who was turning lost strands of hair, wads of chewing gum, and other found DNA into visual genetic “portraits” of people. Last year, the Edmonton Police Service, using a company called Parabon, used a similar process to create 3D images of crime suspects using DNA from the case. The police had no idea if the portrait they generated actually looked like the suspect they wanted, and the practice is incredibly concerning. To its credit, 23andMe itself has steadfastly resisted law enforcement requests for information, but other large databases of genetic information have been used to solve crimes. Both 23andMe and Ancestry are regularly the recipients of law enforcement requests for data, meaning police do see these companies as potentially valuable data mines.

#23andme #genetics #ancestry #DNA sequencing

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hedgehog-moss · 2 years ago

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I’ve been having a bit of a hay shortage lately—January was very cold and snowy so the animals ate a lot, plus I have an extra mouth to feed this year, and I hadn’t realised Poldine would eat so much in her first year! Next summer I’ll make sure to buy enough hay for 4 animals rather than 3 and a half.

In the meantime I’ve been offering various hay substitutes, such as brambles, or my Christmas tree. It was waiting on the pile of green waste I intend to burn in early spring, until I remembered seeing someone’s ad in the local paper that went “if you want to recycle your Christmas trees, give them to me, my goats will love them!” I figured well, llamas are tall goats, maybe they’ll enjoy a bit of Christmas tree, and they did !

(Baby Poldine is always very circumspect about new foods, but she did end up tasting it.)

Pirlouit was also pleased with this unexpected breakfast. They all took turns nibbling at the tree until only the trunk was left :)

Still, I was trying to contact nearby farmers to ask if they have some hay to spare (it’s not that I’ve run out, I just want to be prepared in case of another cold spell), and I also moved the animals to my other pasture down the road, as there’s still some dry grass there. It’s not well-fenced though, and I wasn’t very confident in this pasture’s ability to contain Pampe, but I figured—there’s no grass to be found in any nearby pasture, so why would she try to leave this one?

(Because Pampe.)

I left the llamas & donkey frolicking in this exciting new place (Poldine looked enchanted to explore a new pasture, she was bounding around like a baby goat!), and I went skiing today, as a (late) birthday gift to myself. The skiing station is just half an hour away and this has become a very anticipated birthday ritual since I moved here! This year I waited until I had found some way to keep the animals busy before taking a day off, so there would be no llama leaks in my absence.

So of course I got a text from a neighbour in the afternoon, telling me my llamas had been spotted on the road, going towards the village. (“Pampe looked determined. She was going to the grocery shop to get muesli.”) (Pampe is so famous, people even know her favourite snacks 😭)

Since I was literally on a ski slope I decided to turn my conscience off and pretend I hadn’t seen the text. I thought, if the llamas do end up in the village I’ll get more texts updating me on their position and I’ll be a responsible llama owner and go home (promise), but they’ll probably get off the road and into the woods somewhere between my house and the village and they’ll spend the afternoon eating communal shrubs and they’ll be fine.

When I went home a few hours later, I found my donkey alone in the pasture where I’d left him in the morning—we both had to wrestle with a moral dilemma today, and Pirlouit’s was “do I loyally follow my friends and potentially starve to death, or do I stay by myself in this place with very adequate dry grass to munch on?” He really hates being alone, yet he chose food over friendship.

I brought Pirou back to his normal pasture (he wouldn’t have liked to find himself alone after sunset) and went looking for the girls. I’d had a neighbour on the phone who had talked to someone who’d talked to someone who had seen the llamas and had “shooed them in the general direction of your house.” That was some very helpful shooing, because I found them just a couple of kilometres away, and indeed going in the right direction.

Pampelune leading the way, determined to go home before night; Pampérigouste last, internally grumbling that it was still early and they could have explored the world some more.

I usually jog with the llamas when I bring them home so we don’t spend too much time in the middle of the road, but there aren’t many cars when the road is icy and also after a day of skiing, you don’t really feel like jogging a few km at a brisk pace in heavy snow boots. So we went home in a slow and solemn procession.

I called the people who had told me about the llamas’ whereabouts to thank them, and explained that this escape was the result of a failed attempt to move the animals to my poorly-fenced second pasture because I don’t have a lot of hay left—and one of them told me he could spare a bale and he’d bring it to me tomorrow!

“So I’ve done everyone a favour” (is probably Pampe’s conclusion.)

I gave them hay as I figured they hadn’t had time to graze much in the other pasture, but only Pampe was hungry. Well, Pirlouit is always hungry, but Pampe indignantly rebuffed him. “You chose food over adventure. You don’t get to eat the food I’m getting as a reward for a successful adventure.”

Pirlouit is completely resigned to the fundamental unfairness of a dutiful donkey’s life.

#crawling along

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mrsharrington83 · 9 months ago

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Code Blue

Summary; The aftermath leaves Y/N second guessing everything in her life. Losing friends and witnessing her boyfriend of two years getting closer to his ex is enough to push her over the edge. Will they be able to pull themselves out of this hole that’s darker than the Upside Down itself? (For the sake of this fic, what happened at the end of the last episode of season 4 hasn’t yet happened)

Warnings; usual Stranger Things, things. Swearing, blood, injury, alcohol consumption, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts. If any of this is triggering, please don’t read.

A/N; I haven’t written anything in so long! It’s a long fic! 6.5K words, my longest on here yet. I apologise if this is bad, I’ve just been in a writing mood so thought I’d let out a lot of angst and fluff (we love it) I am a British writer (England) so sorry if things don’t make sense to you! Thank you for stopping by, hopefully my writing streak stays strong. Requests are always open. Love to all xoxo

The aftermath of the supposed earthquake had everyone second guessing. Some people left, other people were packing to leave. Having known what really went down, you sat in silence staring into your vanity mirror as everyone else you knew went to help the community at Hawkins High.

You just couldn’t stomach it. Cuts and grazes over your skin, tiredness evident in your eyes, your hair still clumped with dirt from the Upside Down, dried blood. You hadn’t even showered yet. You didn’t know how to process anything that had happened over the past 72 hours. You were accustomed to this kind of thing having it been a big part of your life for the past few years, the most recent battle however, took the biscuit.

Small Polaroid pictures littered around the back wall of your desk. Smiles, memories, better times. Max and Dustin when she stole his cap. They were in mid laugh so it was blurred a bit, but a happy memory that was stuck in time. That same Max was now in hospital, fractured bones, blind, unresponsive. Not laughing and joking with her friends, not happy, not anything. Doctors didn’t know if she’d ever wake. She was such a selfless soul, way beyond her years, but still so young. Too young. You all were.

Pictures of the group, you and your boyfriend Steve. A picture of you and Eddie during a D&D game. His hair all over the place, tongue sticking out, you laughing, Dustin in the background pulling a stupid face.

Memories.

Eddie.

Your best friend.

Gone.

Just like that.

He didn’t run this time, and fuck. You really wished he did.

The tick of your small clock dragged you away from the pictures, the light ticking mocking you, “shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you screamed from deep in your lungs, a howl so painful from your chest, putting what was left of your strength and upset from the past few weeks into knocking the blasted thing to the floor, hearing the glass and mechanics hit the floor in one swoop. It was a gift from Eddie one Christmas as you were pretty much always late. Bittersweet.

Guilt built in your stomach as you stood up fast, pushing your stool back with your legs, failing to the floor, cupping the bits of broken glass as sobs wracked your body, not realising your hands were clenched around the shards, the all too familiar claret running through the lines in your palm and down your fingers, dripping into a pool on the wooden flooring of the bedroom.

Your breathing hitched as you remembered Eddie die in your arms, the way blood trickled from his mouth. The look of pure terror on his face. He knew he was dying, but he kept it together till the very end for the sake of you and Dustin. His best friends, the people that were there for him no matter what everyone else was saying. You didn’t want to believe it. Dustin’s screams and sobs as the light left his eyes. You saw them gloss over. The way you both shook him, screamed into his ear, telling him not to leave you both behind. Your hands covered in blood. His blood.

Dropping the bits of glass on the floor, you pushed your feet and newly cut hands against the floor, the small slitters of glass that were still on your palm slicing deeper into your flesh until your back met the wall, your hands and body shaking, the tightness in your chest getting worse and you struggled to fill your lungs with air. You felt like you were about to pass out.

The past 72 hours had been, by far, the worst time of your life. You’d witnessed what you thought was your boyfriend of two years get closer to his ex, eyes can be deceiving, but there was something in his own eyes that glimmered whenever he spoke to Nancy, deep down you always wondered what Steve saw in you. Maybe you were just a knock off version of Nancy. Someone to keep him grounded in all of this. A warm body to forget all the wrongdoing in the world. Someone he knew cared about him. Perhaps more than he cared for you. You didn’t know that of course, it was just what your mind was telling you.

Your best friend had died for a town that hated him, Max, the girl who had adopted you as a cooler older sister after Billie died was lying in a hospital bed with the looming same fate, Vecna was still out there somewhere and you were sure there was even more danger on the horizon.

Even after everything that happened, your mum hadn’t bothered coming home. She was always away with her new man for weeks on end. She had called up one night before the phone lines cut out to make sure the house was still standing after witnessing the news, but other than that all you got was, ‘with everything that’s happened in Hawkins, I’m going to stay with carl for another few weeks, maybe more. Be careful out there.’”

You’d never felt more alone. You didn’t blame your friends or Steve. They wanted to help out, of course they did. You did too, but you were in no way the right frame of mind to be seeing people crying for their loved ones, talking to people that had lost others whilst you were reeling from losing your own.

You pulled yourself off the floor with great difficulty. It felt like you had a ton of bricks weighed down on you. Metaphorically speaking, you did. Though it wasn’t bricks, it was the weight of hurt and anger, of death piling up one by one. “Get yourself together Y/N. get your fucking self together.” Rummaging through your dresser, careful not to get blood on everything, you pulled out some comfortable lounge clothes that were bigger in size, purposely avoiding one of Steve’s t-shirts as you dragged yourself to the bathroom.

Putting down the toilet seat, you placed your clothes and rinsed your hands under the cold tap. Water on open cuts made you wince, but at least you felt something other than emotional pain. Watching your fresh blood mix with water and into the sink like a mini whirlpool was almost mesmerising. Picking out the last few shards of glass making the water redder with each bit. You were lucky water was still running. There were some parts of Hawkins that had no water.

Turning the dial on the shower you undressed. Peeling your clothes from your skin. Clothes you wouldn’t bother to wash. They would go straight in the bin. You had enough awful reminders on that night, you didn’t need more. Stepping into the shower, careful not to slip, you submerged yourself in warm, running water and closed your eyes, feeling old blood, mud and debris leave your tired body.

Steve had come home early, with both of your parents almost always being away you basically lived with each other. When your mum was away, he’d stay with you and if his parents were away, you’d stay with him. He had his own keys to your place, and you had your own to his.

Steve kicked his shoes off in the hallway, tiredness in his bones. The house was silent apart from the sound of water from the shower, you were at least out of bed. When Steve left this morning you were curled up in a ball with covers over your head, blocking out the world. He leant down and burrowed his head in your blankets kissing the top of your head, saying how much he loved you and that he’d be back as soon as he’d helped out in Hawkins High, with a running car it was easier for him to pick up robin and bundle Dustin, Will and Mike in the back of along with all the supplies, it was a squeeze, but not a long drive and with everything that had happened, the kids didn’t mind being on top of each other, breathing, alive. In truth, Steve didn’t want to get out of bed either. His temples ached, his bones felt heavy and the wounds he had were still throbbing, not letting him forget about the events.

He sighed and flopped onto the sofa, leaning his head back hoping to get the knots out of the muscles in his neck, tension. He didn’t want to disturb you in the shower, even though all he wanted to do was bury his face in your hair, your skin, breathe in the only place he felt safe, the only thing that made sense to him. Seeing everyone at Hawkins High, the missing persons post filled with faces he knew, faces he didn’t, the heartbreak of all of Hawkins. All he wanted was you, but instead he just sat there.

You pressed your head against the cool tiles in the bathroom as you turned off the shower, the familiar car engine shutting off in the drive, you knew Steve was back, yet you didn’t think you could see him face to face yet. You breathed out heavily and stepped out of the shower pulling a towel from the back of the door, wrapping it around yourself and another for your hair. Red staining the white cotton as you’d opened old wounds as well as your still bleeding palms that stung. You bent down to get the first aid kit from under the sink as you got to work on your wounds. You at least looked cleaner, your split lip and eyebrow not looking as bad now you’d washed, half of these injuries you didn’t even know when you’d got them, from fighting demobats to being thrown across the floor by Eddie when you tried to help, bruises from being pulled away from your friend as his lifeless body lay motionless, wounds from yourself from hitting the wall in desperation. You looked how you felt. Completely broken. You wrapped bandages around your hands and left it at that. Drying off and throwing oversized clothes on, you reached for the door handle, your hand visibly shaking.

Going back into your room you sighed at the mess. Somewhat thankful that Steve had stayed downstairs. Glass and blood everywhere. You grabbed a dustpan and a brush from a small closet next to the bathroom as well as the small towel you used for your hair, sweeping up the small shards of glass and discarding them in a small bin next to your bed. Wiping the claret up with the small towel and putting that in the bin too. You sat on the end of your bed once again staring at the pictures behind your vanity desk.

“Y/N?” Steve called up the stairs noting that the shower had been turned off for a while, worry lacing his voice. You could hear it.

“Yeah, I’m coming down.” You stood up and dragged yourself to the top of the landing. You could just throw yourself down the stairs and hope for the best. Hope you’d have an ounce of peace from your racing mind, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t bring yourself to take yourself over that edge, to make the people that cared about you lose another. You’d all lost too much. Begrudgingly you walked down the stairs, the illuminating light from the sun almost blinding you, you’d been living in darkness for the past few days, being in the Upside Down and then closing all the curtains upstairs as soon as you’d got back home. You’d almost forgotten how bright daylight could be.

Steve was waiting in the kitchen for you, his eyes visibly glowing when you walked into the room, as though you lit up the small space when you stepped in. A smile tugged on your lips that suddenly dropped when you remembered he was looking at Nancy exactly the same not too long ago. The same nagging thoughts you had earlier pulling you back. Knock off version of Nancy. Now that Johnathan was back, of course he came running back to you. Steve looked down to your hands and frowned, he didn’t remember you hurting your hands so much they needed bandaging,

“Sweetheart? What happened?” Steve was by your side in an instant his hands gently over yours as he inspects the bandages,

“I dropped some glass, not a big deal. Just got a little cut up in the process of cleaning it up.” You lied through your teeth, you couldn’t be bothered to talk about Eddie again and how you’d broken the last gift he would ever give to you out of anger. Steve continued to look at your hands, careful not to disturb the bandages around them,

“Do you want me to have a look? I can bandage these a bit better for you, make sure there’s no glass and...” you cut him off with a, ‘I’m fine.’ And pulled your hands away from his warmth, Steve looked a little deflated, but understood. All of you had patched each other up countless times that it was almost routine now, you’d learnt how to stitch wounds, what ointments and antiseptics to use, you basically had a mini pharmacy under your sink for things that people would never believe.

“Honestly, I’m fine Steve.” You forced a smile and went round the Kitchen Island feeling his eyes burning through you. Your house wasn’t the biggest, it was snug. The kitchen was weirdly one of the bigger rooms and probably the nicest, it was one of the only rooms your mum put any effort into before she started gallivanting around the globe. It was bright with several flowers littering the windowsills, yellow lace curtains to match some of the décor. How the flowers hadn’t died yet, you didn’t know. You never watered them.

You and the rest of the group had spent ample time in this kitchen cooking cookies and brownies for movie night, Max and Lucas always managing to burn popcorn, Steve rushing to open windows and flail a tea towel at the fire alarm to stop it beeping whilst Robin was toppling over laughing at Dustin with brownie mix all over his mouth, You’d also spent ample time in here with the older lot of the group, your mum had quite the alcohol stash. Probably enough to open a bar downtown. From several different bottles of vodka, gin, whiskey to wine, beer, cider and god knows what other potent liquid that did the job, which is exactly what you were heading for now.

Steve was slumped against one of the dining chairs as he watched you move around the island, he knew exactly what cabinet you were riffling through, “Ahhh, there it is.” You picked out an unopened bottle of vodka and put it on the side as you went through a different cupboard to pick out a decent glass.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Steve sighed as he watched your every move, “I know things aren’t great at the minute, but we really need to pull together.” You opened the vodka and poured a small glass, turning around and leaning against the counter with your ankles crossed, the glass of vodka in your hand. You shrugged and took a gulp, the burning from the alcohol igniting your insides.

“Look, sweetheart, please.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, the lack of product evident, no one ever saw Steve walking around with no product in his hair, probably because without it, it was so fluffy and never sat in the right place according to him, “this isn’t the answer, that isn’t going to help. It’s not going to bring...”

“Shut up!” you screeched, smashing the glass back onto the counter, thankfully not breaking it, “you think I don’t know that, Steve? For goodness sake! How stupid do you think I am?!” Steve is taken aback, he’s over stepped a line and he knows it, “I know it’s not going to bring Eddie back it’s not going to stop what’s going on here,” you look around the room, “it’s not going to stop Max from being in hospital, it’s not going to stop those poor kids dreaming about what happened over and over again, how fucked they’re going to be in years’ time if they even make it that far, from losing countless people and battling these things over and over again, but maybe, just maybe it will stop my racing thoughts, the hurt, the anger, the resentment I have for this stupid fucking town for five goddamn minutes, okay?! everything is falling apart at the seams, we’ve all lost so much, I even thought you were getting cosy with Nancy again!” you bite your tongue getting caught up in the rift, Steve looked towards you bewildered. You turn back to the vodka bottle, filling your glass halfway, drinking it down like water and filling it up again, “I’m not asking you to understand Steve, I’m not even asking you to deal with this, you know where the fucking door is.”

Steve stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly, turning you to face him, moving the hair that had fallen so effortlessly over your features, “I love you Y/N, whatever you thought you saw between me and Nancy was not that. I’m happy for her and Johnathan, really. I’m so glad were now with the right people, the people who ground us and make this stupid crazy life worth living, you’re my muse. I would never do that to you, sweetheart. Not ever,” moving his hands over your covered arms, to your hands, holding them gently in his, “I’m not going anywhere Y/N, just please, I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t.”

You looked Steve dead in the eyes, his glassed over, tears threatening to fall. The beautiful honey eyes you’d got lost in time and time again, “Maybe you already have.” His hands let go of yours as he visibly slumped, and took a step back, you might as well have been holding a gun, a bullet to his chest with the way he was looking at you. Turning your back to him, your own tears threatening to fall, you grabbed the bottle again unscrewing the cap, pouring yourself another glass.

“What do you mean?” Steve is silent again, his presence still behind you, feelings of uncertainty heavy in the air, “Y/N, look at me please...” the defeat in his voice made you feel awful, this was your boyfriend of two years, the person that had stayed by your side that whole time, through everything. The good times and the bad, the way you both laughed, the random dates he took you on, sometimes even after work, some of which ended up being group outings as one of the kids had seen you both and then got on the walkie talkies as quickly as possible, they ended up calling that ‘code blue’ as the first time it happened Steve was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, the movie nights, the late night talks, walks, your safety net, the countless jokes that weren’t even funny. Helping him with his hair, the days he was sick and you’d take care of him, and the days he would do exactly the same back for you. He never faltered, he was always brave, always stayed strong for you, for everyone, but here he was, seconds away from breaking down. A painful ache in his voice that cut you in half, the same ache breaking the last pieces of your heart that were still intact, you wiped your tears away with the back of your sweater, turning around to see Steve once more, pain drowning his features,

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do this anymore.” he sucked in a shaky breath as a sob broke from his lips. Pain. Pain that you had caused. You finished your glass of vodka, keeping your back to Steve, you couldn’t watch him break, you couldn’t see the sadness and heartache on his face. As if he hadn’t been through enough recently,

“Y/N, please,” his voice was low, strained, as though he was bleeding out on the spot behind you, “don’t do this, we can get through this, we can get through anything, please just don’t...” you turned round to Steve his eyes visibly blood shot probably from tiredness and the tears that were free flowing down his cheeks,

“I’m sorry Steve.” You walked past him, a slight sway to your walk from too much alcohol in a short space of time on an empty stomach as you tackled the stairs, all you wanted to do was sleep, before you even got half way up the stairs you heard the front door close causing you to stop on the spot, your own sobs now tearing way through your body, this pain was tearing you apart, so much loss, but you had caused this last one.

You found yourself sitting on the end of your bed looking at the pictures behind your desk once again, would you ever feel that kind of happiness again or was this the new norm? A burning hole in the middle of your chest that was once whole and pushed together in the shape of the people you loved. All of those memories seemed like a lifetime ago, how time and life could be fleeting, oh how you took it all for granted.

***

Two weeks had passed.

Two long weeks.

Probably the longest two weeks of your life.

In those two weeks you’d had almost everyone knock on your door, mainly Robin and Dustin, “Y/N, open this door right now or I promise you I’ll put a brick through your window and climb in there myself.” Dustin shouted as he looked through the small glass patterns on the front door for signs of movement, “I’m not joking Y/N.” Dustin looked around your drive and picked up half a brick, “ten seconds, Y/N!” finally he saw movement and put the brick down on the grass, you opened the door and huffed,

“Dustin, every day for two weeks, ae you not bored yet?” He pushed you aside gently and kicked his shoes off before throwing himself onto the sofa and turning on the small TV as if he lived there, “and how can I be of assistance today?” you stood in the doorway of the living room, you no longer had the bandages on your hands, the cuts on your hands were hardly visible now, your other physical injuries were also doing much better, some might not even scar, not that you cared about a bit of scarring,

“You look like shit,” Dustin looked back at you and scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, you’d been wearing the same kind of clothes for two weeks, anything you could get your hands on. Mix matched sweats and sweaters, sometimes Steve’s t-shirts, on a very rare occasion you treated yourself by wearing a pair of jeans. Your usual full of life hair was lifeless and scraggly from the lack of brushing, your eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, red lips from gnawing at them constantly,

“Well, love you too, Dustin,” you rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen fetching juice and cookies on a tray, “so what is it today?” Dustin cleared his throat and made his way into the kitchen, taking a few cookies off the tray as he took a seat around the table drinking juice you’d bought specially for him,

“It’s Steve,” your breathing hitched as you looked to the floor, biting at your already raw lips, you pulled a second chair out and sat opposite Dustin, taking your own cookie and nibbling at it. You hadn’t eaten well for two weeks now,

“What about him?” you took a swig of your own juice and sit looking towards your younger friend,

“Don’t give me that, Y/N. I know you still care, Robin tells me things, y’know, and you’re not someone that doesn’t care about people,” Dustin shook his head, “this act is bullshit, Y/N. Steve is over there wondering what he did wrong, what he can do to help you, he’s broken, Y/N and none of us can get through to him, ne needs you and you need him and we need you both. We need our kick ass non babysitters back. We need to stick together. We can’t all break otherwise what do we have?” you bit the inside of your cheek letting Dustin talk, you had been unfair, everything in this world was so wrong and you were breaking the only good thing in it,

“I’m scared, Dusty,” you looked to him and he nodded, not wasting time to eat more cookies, all the kids loved your cookies,

“We all are, Y/N. you know this isn’t over right?” you looked down knowingly and started to play with the patterned table cover, “Steve needs you, I need you, we all need you. You know Eddie wouldn’t want this right?” you breathed deeply at the mention of his name, “you’re the bravest person he knew, he told me, and do you know what else?” you looked up from the table, “he loved you and Steve together, he saw how happy he made you and that’s what he wanted for you. He wanted you to be happy.” You sighed, breath shaky as a tear fell from your lashes onto the tablecloth you were playing with moments before,

“Well he got one thing wrong, he was the bravest.” Dustin put his hand over yours and gave it a light squeeze,

“Please just come and see Steve? Everyone is round there trying to cheer him up and he looks just as shit as you, if not more. If you don’t come with me, the others are going to try one by one, I’m the nicer one.” He stood up from the table, hopeful,

“Dustin I can’t,” disappointment clouded his eyes, “I can’t go over there empty handed, help me make some cookies?” the usual toothy grin from Dustin was back, one you hadn’t seen for a such a long time, one that made your heart swell. You loved those kids so much and you’d do anything to protect them, you felt bad for wallowing in in your own self-pity when everyone you cared about was going through the exact same thing as you. You’d nearly lost the one thing that made sense and you were going to try and not let that slip any further. You and Dustin got to work on the cookies, not failing to get flour all over the surface and yourselves. Once the cookies were in the oven and cooking, you looked over to Dustin, “Keep an eye on the cookies for me? I’m going to try and sort this out a bit,” you pointed to your mop of a hair as he grinned and nodded, picking up his walkie as you left the room,

“Guys, it’s Dustin, over.” He waited for the usual static of the walkie patiently as he pressed more buttons hoping to hear from the others,

“Hearing you loud and clear, Dustin, what’s the status, over.” Mike was on the other end, uncertainty in his voice, but hugged by hope, Will, El and even Lucas in the background hugging over the other walkie talkie hoping for a shred of good news. Max was still in hospital, though in good hands. There was hope that she’d still wake up, she was strong and a fighter. Lucas sat by her bedside every chance he got, but he too needed fresh air sometimes, to see his friends. Being cooped up waiting for someone to wake up wouldn’t do anyone any good if it was constant. Same four walls day in, day out. It took some time for him to realise that however.

“Guys, we have ourselves a code blue. Over.” Dustin chimed excitedly as the rest of the youngsters screamed in joy, they were out of ear shot from Steve and Robin, all around the pool as it was such a lovely day in Hawkins, warm with a light breeze hitting the trees and pool every now and then causing small ripples, birds still chirping. Even amidst all the uncertainty and heartache, life could be beautiful.

You looked into the mirror having put a little bit of makeup on, an extreme rarity for you with everything that had gone on the past few years, you’d finally put a brush through your washed hair and changed into something more you, high waisted jeans, a black t-shirt and a light denim jacket you could take off if you wanted, you felt the warmth through the bathroom window as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more, “presentable.” You could smell cookies downstairs signalling Dustin had kept to his word and kept an eye on then, not letting them burn. You hurried down the stairs with a skip to your step and twirled to Dustin who was standing in the hall with a cookie jar in hand, ready to pack them once they’d cooled a little,

“There’s the Y/N I know! Yes!” Dustin fist bumped the air with his free hand wishing the cookies would cool down faster. You gathered your shoes and a small bag to put your keys and anything else you needed in,

“what if he doesn’t want to see me?,” you stopped in your tracks, looking at Dustin unsure, “what if I’ve hurt him too much and he never wants to see me again?” you play with the hem of your denim jacket, backtracking, wondering if this was a good idea after all,

“you’re the only person he wants to see, Y/N. we just invite ourselves in and he’s too nice to tell us to get out,” you shake your head,

“You know that isn’t true, he loves you guys as much as I do, even if he’s in the worst mood possible, he’d always rather have you guys around, you know that,” Dustin nodded, putting the cooler cookies into the jar sealing them tightly, “did you bike over here?” you questioned as Dustin shook his head,

“I didn’t,” he grinned and dug his hand in his back pocket, pulling Steve’s car keys out and waving them in your face, “he doesn’t know, obviously,” Dustin shrugged as you shook your head and put your head in your hand laughing in disbelief, a real laugh, something you forgot you could do,

“Dustin! You could have caused an accident!” you tried to sound serious over your laughing that just wouldn’t stop,

“well, you don’t see many cars on the road these days after what happened, maybe people are too scared,” he shrugged once more, “not me, now. Let’s gooooo!” Dustin ran for the front door, cookies in hand, and his small backpack you didn’t realise he had draped over a shoulder,

“Ahhh. Not so fast, keys!” you extended your hand to Dustin, Steve absolutely loved that car, sometimes you wondered if he loved that car more than you and okay, Dustin got there safely, but now he was in your care he wouldn’t be driving that thing,

“Spoil sport,” he ginned as he handed you the keys stepping out into the outside. You took a deep breath. The smell of the outside you hadn’t seen in weeks. The light breeze through your hair the sun tingling against your skin, butterflies and birds, nature. Things you hasn’t stopped to look at for such a long time, “earth to Y/N,” you shook your head and walked towards the car, opening it for you both.

You hadn’t driven in forever, was it something you could forget? Fastening your seatbelt, making sure Dustin did the same, starting the car and opening the windows, you pulled the sun visor down, a small Polaroid falling onto your lap. You turned it around to see a picture of you and Steve, your heart beating against your chest as you ran your finger over the photo. It was the first one you took together, before you were even official. Halloween 1984. That stupid party, the night Steve and Nancy broke up. You found Steve crying on the back step, you spent the rest of the night trying to cheer him up. One too many beers, weed and a stupid camera, “he kept it...” Dustin looked up at you as you put the photo in the dashboard opposite Dustin,

“Of course he did, he keeps everything,” you didn’t know that, you didn’t say anything further as you pulled off the drive, it wasn’t a long drive. It was actually an easy enough walk, you didn’t live far from Steve. The nights he would randomly turn up at your house and throw pebbles at the window even though no one else was in the house, small memories making you smile.

The drive was quiet, Dustin looking out the window the whole way there, your heart still hammering against your chest, would people be happy to see you, would they hate you, would things be the same, what the fuck were you going to say to Steve? Pulling onto his drive, things got too real, you heard laughter from the other younger people of the group outside as you locked up the car, Dustin rushing to the back gate with cookies, though before he could you were tackled by El, Mike, Will and Lucas, “Y/N OH MY GOD YOU’RE HERE!” mike exclaimed as you laughed with the kids, some of them sopping wet from the pool, of course they still loved you, “we all missed you so much, it’s so good to see you” you ruffled everyone’s hair, something you always used to do when they were younger, something you still hadn’t stopped, tears in your eyes, you smiled, for once they weren’t sad tears,

“I’ve missed you all so much, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I’m sorry I haven’t been stronger for you all.” They all hugged you tighter, understanding, when did they all grow up?

“we all understand,” Lucas looks at you empathetically, “Max would want us all together, so would Eddie,” you hugged them all just that little bit tighter as they lead you into the back gate, not much had changed in Steve’s back yard except the grass was unkempt, the pool still clean somehow, “we will let you talk to Steve now,” you took a deep breath and looked towards the back sliding doors Robin leaning against them smiling as she ran out to hug you,

“Oh praise the heavens you’re here, I cannot deal with him in there for one minute longer,” you looked towards robin apologetically and she shook her head, “none of that, Y/N. Go see him, bring our Steve back, yeah?” she smiled and sat next to the kids, stealing one of the cookies you made.

You made your way into the house, the house that had so many different memories, you kicked your shoes off and put them where you always do before poking your head into the living room, Steve’s back was towards you as he was staring at the TV something you guessed he’d been doing for the past couple weeks, a lot like you really. His hair was too dishevelled and free of product, but oh fuck did he look like home. “If you’re there to try get me outside in the pool again, Robin I swear to fuck I will change the locks on this house.” He signed defeated and tuned round, his pupils dilating, shock on his face, the evident bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, “Y/N?” he scrambled off the sofa as fast as he could, scared you were a figment of his imagination, “is... is it really you? You’re here...” he stood opposite, reaching out to you,

“Steve...” tears welled in your eyes, “I am so, so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t want what I said, I was so lost in my own mind,” he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “please forgive me, I’m so sorry,” you pulled away to look at him, tears in his own eyes as he brushed your free falling ones away with his thumb, “I love you so much, I was so scared of losing you too that I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he pulled you back into him, the smell of cedar, bergamot and a slight hint of cigarette smoke, home.

“You didn’t lose me, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything,” he pulled you into him, lips crashing together, cola Popsicle and a small hint of your home cooked cookies that Dustin must have been bringing to him secretly. Everyone loved your cookies. He pulled away and smashed his lips against yours again over and over, the taste of salt now from both of your tears, small lazy kisses planted all over your mouth as he pulled away, your lips slightly swollen, his honey eyes full of life once more, he was never going to let you go. He pulled you flush with his body, your head resting against his chest, as he ran his fingers through your hair, “you’re my home, Y/N. Wherever you are. That’s home to me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, okay?” you kissed him again, your cherry chapstick smearing over both of your mouths,

“you’re my home too, Mr. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington,” you looked up to him, a smile on your face, no longer crying as you knocked your hip with his. The emptiness in your heart glazing over a little, the pieces of your broken heart slowly reconnecting, the feeling of life, love, family.

“Have you seen my hair right now?” he ran a hair though it, washed, but lifeless. “Give me a minute, yeah? Put a movie on.” He kissed you softly before sprinting out of the room. You sat on the sofa you’d sat on countless times as you went through old rentals that would probably never be returned as the video store was one of the places to be destroyed, you placed a VHS in the TV as Steve bounded down the stairs, his hair no longer lifeless and messy, but perfect. Your smile so big your jaw could dislocate, “better? The hair is back,” he grinned and jumped over you on the sofa, “Return of the Jedi? One of my favourites.” He pulled your legs over his lap, both of you draped over the sofa like nothing had changed, his hands caressing your knee, smiles not leaving either of your faces.

“GUYS, CODE BLUEEEE.” Dustin shouted from behind the sofa as everyone else bundled in, “and look at that, Farrah Fawcett spray,” Dustin grinned,

“That’s top secret, dude!” Steve shook his head, a genuine laugh falling from his mouth as everyone pulled blankets and cushions around themselves, your cookies in hand. A good old fashioned movie night, things were going to be okay, you looked over to Steve, his eyes glistening as he squeezed your leg. The people you chose as family, Robin in the corner of the room beaming for the both of you. Both of her best friends back together, where they belong. There was a long road ahead for all of you, but at least you’d always face these things together. You were all so much stronger together. A team. A family.

#steve harrington #steveharrington/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington angst #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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ronintales · 7 months ago

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So When I Die. | Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, mentions of not eating, and not proofread ;p

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

Note

dying for you to right more of javi and reader!!! maybe them discussing having a baby or javi forgetting to pull out?? love the breeding kind from your last fic ❤️❤️

Fever

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: In my mind, this is a prequel to All Roads Lead To Someone. It was supposed to be cutesy, but it turned a little filthy too and suddenly it felt like he wrote himself. I hope you enjoy it, friend!

Summary: The beginning journey of trying for a baby with your husband, Javier Peña.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), established relationship, you indulge in Javi’s breeding kink, daddy kink if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, fluff & fun, domestic javier is sexy and charming and filthy, so much in love, riding, fingering, cumplay

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48106387

Fever

Javier raised a brow as you presented him with an empty blister pack. He was sitting on your shared couch, waiting expectantly for an explanation to what he could only assume was a lousy gift.

Unsure of what to do, he took the blister pack from your hand, stared down at it with a puzzled look upon his face for a moment before looking up at you once again, “This is the surprise? You got me empty foil and plastic? Are you losing it?”

You had told him to sit down and stay seated as soon as he had arrived home from work, pulled at his jacket to undress him and pushed him towards the living room. There had been a snarky comment about how eager you were, though when you hadn’t straddled him, but rather left him again, he had drummed his thighs impatiently until you had returned.

“Shut up, I’m not losing it,” you bit back, snatching the pill packet from him again to which he frowned.

“Hey, give it back, I was just starting to like it,” he teased you.

You twirled the empty packet between your fingers for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, “It’s my birth control. All gone. I’ve not gotten any more at the drugstore. Like we talked about.”

Javier’s mouth fell open. He sunk further into the couch for a moment, trying to process what he had just heard and you allowed him the time it took to register the words you had spoken.

After a few more seconds, he suddenly sat up straight again. He placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to stand, not giving you time to say anything as he quickly closed the distance between the two of you to kiss you. You dropped the blister pack on the floor.

His hands came up to cup your face, holding you gently as he covered your mouth with his own. You responded by gently grabbing a hold of his wrist with your free hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

“When can we start trying?” Javier asked when he pulled back to catch a proper breath. He was beaming like a little boy on Christmas morning, grabbing a hold of you to lift you off the ground and into his arms. He spun the both of you around once and you squeaked his name.

“Well, the doctor said most people should be able to start trying already a month or two after stopping the pill, but he also said that anything could happen,” you explained when he put you down on the floor again, “Which means I’m open for business, baby.”

You leaned in to whisper the rest of your sentence in his ear, “Time to fuck a baby into me, Javier Peña.”

Then you pulled back with a satisfied smirk, because Javier was completely lost for words, and you found as you looked down, that he was also starting to get hard. It gave you reason to taunt him, “That gets you going, huh? To knock me up?”

“Don’t,” he groaned as a warning, holding his hand up to say stop.

“It does,” you giggled cutely, but there was something more devilish about it. You reached out for the buckle on his belt, carefully undoing it until you could pull the belt from its loops. You let it fall to the floor with a soft thud, going for his zipper afterwards, “I think we should practice our magic; we have to do it a lot in the coming months.”

Javier said your name softly and when you looked at his face, you saw him with damp eyes. It caught you off guard, “What? What’s happening? Is something wrong?”

“You’re actually gonna give an old dog like me a family,” he stated tenderly, and your first response was to chuckle softly in disbelief at him. He found your eyes and furrowed his brow.

“Hey,” you reached out to cup his cheek when you realized that he meant what he said, brushing it soothingly with your thumb, “Of course I am. Who else would be better than you? I can’t wait, baby. You’ll be the best daddy out there.”

Something shifted then. Javier leaned in to kiss you once more, this time with a little more confidence in the way that he carried himself. He reached for your clothes too now, pulling at your dress’ hem to lift it over your head, discarding it on the floor and finding your mouth afterwards again.

You pushed him backwards, mouth still on his, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. You broke the kiss by pushing him to sit down again, stepping back afterwards to take off your shoes and socks, then undo your bra to slide it off your arms.

“Gonna be such a pretty momma,” he said as he watched you undress except for the wedding ring on your finger, lifting his hips off the couch to shove his jeans and underwear down over his thighs until they hung around his knees.

You hooked your thumbs into your underwear, pulled them down so you could shimmy out of them until they fell around your feet. Javier swore from his seat on the couch as you revealed your whole self to him. squeezing the base of his cock as he started hardening fully.

“C’mere.”

You went to straddle him with a sweet little smile, hooking your leg over his thighs until you had a knee on either side of his lap. You were positioned right above him.

Javier placed his hands on the back of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh whilst you grabbed at the backrest of the couch. He looked up at you with his brown eyes which had gone darker with desire, “Gonna take real good care of you, make sure you have everything you need and want.”

“Yeah?” You said with a dazed expression as one of his calloused palms slid around your body and between your thighs. He teasingly dipped a finger into you, but only to the first knuckle.

“Oh yeah, so tell me what you want, mi amor.”

“You, Javi. Need nothing but you to cure me of this baby fever,” you moaned softly, gasping as he left you empty once more but even more so as he guided his cock into you in the next moment, “Need you to come inside.”

“Jesus,” he swore, finding your hips to fully push you down onto his length. You gasped at his generous girth, walls fluttering around him from the slight burn that it always caused as your body did everything it could to engulf him. You could feel his zipper gnawing into your ass, but it wouldn’t matter once you started moving on him.

When you finally felt the front of his thighs against the back of yours, you stopped moving to breathe in through your nose to steady your heartbeat. Your pulse was skyrocketing at the feeling of being so close to him despite the years that you had been together. No one had ever made you feel like this.

You kissed him deeply. He pressed his thumbs into the front of your hips, digging all ten digits into you possessively just to hold you in place as you sucked on his tongue, pulled at his bottom lip and moaned into his mouth. You’d move soon, you promised yourself, but not before his hands started to hurt a little from impatience.

“Ah,” you whined as you pulled back, but only to rest your foreheads together.

“Move your ass, baby,” he ordered with a slightly ragged breath, swatting your ass, “You’re gonna make me lose it.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you replied after gasping, but followed through on his command; lifted your hips off of him only to sink down dangerously slowly again. You moaned in unison, and whereas you would’ve liked to go so slow that you’d have him begging you to fuck onto him properly, your willpower to tease was gone at the first stroke of his cock inside of you.

You stared into his eyes, licking your lips as you wiggled a little on his lap. He groaned quietly, and you swirled your hips once and then twice, setting up a rhythm that had you both gasping soon.

“Yes, that’s it, use me, you look so pretty,” he panted as you lost yourself on his cock, leaning back a little to change the angle and riding him in earnest to chase an already climbing high; he always loved you milking him anyway. Plus, the sweet and domestic moment you had shared just minutes earlier was enough to have you both desperate for a hurried fuck. It would have you closer to your shared wish quicker than if you took it slow.

You held on tightly at the back of the couch, daring to lean just a little further back until the angling of your hips made his cock nudge against the front of your walls. You ground your hips down to feel the thick head of his cock ram into your g-spot, and you cried out his name before speeding up.

You started bouncing then, and Javier followed you by bucking his hips up into you until you moved in a well-known unison. There was no doubt: You just fit.

Pleasure tightened in your stomach as Javier fucked up into you, and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Everything about the situation and his body molding yours was intense. You needed to come, and you gave everything you had in you to reach your goal.

The thing that sent you over the edge was when he buried his face between your bouncing breasts, his open mouth kissing your cleavage before moving to one nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

“Javi,” you whimpered as a last warning.

And then you came, hard and fast, muscles clamping down on his stiff cock that responded by twitching inside of you. He was so close, and you egged him on.

“Fill me up, daddy, please,” you begged desperately, moving erratically onto his cock despite your sensitivity.

“Chica sucia,” he praised with a groan, looking up at your face again, “Gonna— mierda, gonna pump a baby into you… y-you want that?”

“Yes! Fuck yes, please,” you nodded, mouth hanging open from the sweet pain of oversensitivity.

Javier spilled inside of you a moment later. You stilled your hips, letting him bury himself inside of you as he pulsed through his orgasm and coated you with himself from the inside.

“You know— hah,” he cut off for a moment, catching his breath and leaning his head back against the backrest of the couch. He let go of one of your hips to run a hand over his face, fingers carding through his hair with a breathless chuckle, “I think that was quite the practice round.”

“We may have to repeat that, I think, just to be sure we were doing it correctly,” you responded, voice oozing with post-coital bliss.

When you were just about to get up on your feet again, Javier took your hand and pulled you back down. He carefully laid you down on your back, “Not going anywhere. We need to make sure that it works, mi amor.”

“Someone’s been doing their homework,” you noted, but grimaced at him a second later. He had gotten up to tuck himself back into his boxers and pull up his jeans. You wiggled a little on the leather couch, “I don’t want to scrub come off the couch later, and you, mister, you just want to look at me being naked in your living room.”

“Is that a crime?” He asked, reaching for your dress on the floor. He slid it under your ass, “There.”

“I’m not law enforcement, but I don’t think so,” you bend your legs and spread them for show, feeling his seed drip out of you and onto the dress. Javier sat down by your feet, looking at the mess he had made.

“I think the way you just behaved on top of me is illegal in at least one country,” he said absentmindedly, reaching between your legs to push his come back inside of you. You squirmed at feeling his fingers inside of you.

“Guess I’m a criminal then,” you moaned.

“Criminally sexy,” Javier turned his palm upwards to press his fingers against your g-spot, making a come-hither motion until you lifted your hips up from the couch at the stirrings of a second orgasm.

“Some scientists actually believed that you increased the chances if you made your wife come after pumping her full of come,” he told you as if he was giving a lecture, “The pelvic floor muscles were supposed to contract and make it fucking stick.”

“Yeah?” Your breathing was speeding up again, clit throbbing despite being untouched. The wet squelching of his fingers in your cunt were filthy, getting dirtier as another wave of your wetness mixed with his come.

“Yeah,” he was calm, working his fingers a little faster and more determinedly, “Come on, I can see you’re close, baby.”

“I’m coming, fuck— baby,” you suddenly announced, voice high-pitched as the first wave of pleasure washed over you. Your legs fell inwards and your hands came down between your thighs as if they could help with the intensity, but you cried as the world around you shrunk into nothing, but the feeling between your legs as you rode the wave.

“That’s it,” Javier chuckled as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them on the dress. He let you breathe for a second before continuing, “Want a glass of water?”

“I can get my own water,” you started to get up, but Javier pushed you down on your back once more.

“You better get used to this, momma, stay,” he got up from the couch, heading for the kitchen, “One water coming up.”

You cursed him with a smile on your face as you heard glasses clinking in the kitchen drawer.

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lucvly · 11 months ago

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hi, how are you doing ? i was wondering if can you do christmas head canons with matt ?

— christmas headcannons with matt. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: just fluff & a slightly suggestive one if you squint.

a/n: hii omg ?? is this Thing on ?? 🎤

— leaves the christmas lights up till january type of person. either a) he’s too lazy to take the decorations down, or b) he just wants you to help him take them down so he avoids it until you bring up the idea of helping him LMAO.

— this man knows how to wrap presents mhm. he’d a hundred percent do that stupid ass trend that’s like “wrapping gifts as something not even remotely close”.

— LOOOVES baking cookies with you aww. he doesn’t even like the baking process itself he just likes the decorating part.

— his presents are definitely well thought out. you offhandedly said you wanted a certain something five months ago? best believe he bought it for you for christmas.

— every single present he gives you includes a handwritten love letter. you love it because it’s always at least three pages long and it’s so cute :(.

— he’s such an attentive boyfriend i’m melting ugh. always has a spare jacket for you in the backseat of his car. he’ll say nick or chris left it there for some reason which is most definitely not true, he keeps it there especially for you just in case you get too cold.

— he doesn’t really like visiting malls on christmas because of the crowds but if you wanna go for some reason he’s absolutely following you around.

— he tries to be secretive with gifts but ends up being a major fail LMFAOO you’ve found out what your presents are on multiple occasions. one time he just left them in the car accidentally and you saw them before he could even do anything about it.

— which leads me to my next point, you and chris have an unspoken secret agreement to tell each other what matters got you for christmas. you tell him his present and he’ll tell you yours.

— this went on for a while before matt actually found out and all hell broke loose Oops.

— a perfectionist when it comes down to gingerbread houses. he eventually gives up though when some of the pieces don’t stick together.

— matching ugly sweaters are a must, duh. sometimes it’ll deadass just be mid june and you’ll catch him wearing one of the matching sweaters. it’s so funny but unironically he loves them, he can’t even figure iut why, he just does.

— he gets chapped lips during winter SORRY !! so you’re absolutely gonna catch him with cherry flavored chapstick and he doesn’t gaf. ( taste tests in the car <3333 )

— he’ll never admit it but he Loves christmas scented candles. he acts like the smell is way too strong or something but light one of those snickerdoodle scented candles and he’s Melting.

— lots of christmas themed pick up lines. deadass texts you in the middle of the night just to be like “can i take your picture? i gotta show santa what i want for christmas.”

— his favorite part of winter is the fact that he gets to spend most of his time cuddled up with you under a fuzzy blanket watching movies.

— expect tons of late night drives with him. he loves seeing how people decorate their houses, and for some reason he loves late night talks with you with soft christmas music playing in the background.

— he would be so serious about kids and santa. i feel like chris would be the type of guy to tell kids santa isn’t real but matt would get so pissed, literally raging.

— gets the worst case of sweet tooth during christmas. cookies, cakes, literally anything sweet idc.

— due to that, he’d a hundred percent get sick during the holidays LMFAOO (constant stomachaches because of the amount of sweets he’s had.)

— he’s definitely very considerate as to who you wanna spend your christmas with. he’s thrilled when you wanna spend christmas with him, his brothers and the rest of his family but he also understands that you wanna spend holidays with your family.

— to get to a fair arrangement, you both agree on: one year celebrating with your family, and another year you celebrate with his.

— though when you celebrate with your family, matt, chris and nick end up crashing at, like, the middle of the night HELLO??

— he loves showing you off and posting with you during the holidays. posting your matching outfits, posting vlogs / videos and hauls of what you got for christmas. it’s soo cute.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

Text

Three for One 10

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Happy Christmas Eve.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

A mess of wrapping paper and gift bags litter the floor around you. Their contents are just as neglectfully strewn across the room, forgotten for the desecration bartered with their giving. Reality blurs between the three men as you’re passed between them, bent, contorted, twisted exactly how they want you.

Your thighs quiver as you’re left to fall onto your ass, heaving as you lean against the end of the section. Fuzzy-brained and bleary-eyed you watch a dark figure bend and the crinkle of paper triggers something in you. The urge to flee courses up from your stomach though you don’t have the strength to heed it.

“Mine,” Andy declares and drops a box beside your foot. You blink and don’t move.

“What the hell, dude? You’re up our asses about rules–” Lloyd challenges.

“Stop whining,” Andy growls back.

You shudder as you remain paralysed in the fog. The box hits your leg as it’s kicked towards you. You reach shakily, not sitting forward, and drag it into your lap. Your hands work without seeing. You pull free a thick ribbon and flick the lid off with your thumb. You feel the soft fabric inside, cashmere maybe? You wouldn’t know.

“Come on, honey,” Andy has you by the arm in an instant.

As he hauls you to your feet, the box and sweater falling forgotten from your lap, he stops. You’re caught in the vice of his grip as his arm stretches past another figure standing almost between you. Andy squeezes harder as he flinches, Lloyd jabbing a finger in his chest. You blink as you struggle to process the scene.

“If all rules are off, then you better not say fucking shit,” Lloyd snarls.

Andy shoves him away, ignoring him as he guides you back until your legs touch the sectional. You have only the gold medallion necklace and stockings left on you. The socks have rumpled below your knees unevenly as the gold charm sticks to your sweaty flesh.

He eases you down onto your back and you sigh as your body relaxes instinctively. You’re not thinking straight. You’re clinging to the hope that this is over, or close too. You can’t take much more. They can’t do this all day.

Andy pulls off his sweater as he puffs. His exasperation tinges the air thickly. The other men loom behind him grumbling.

You wince as Andy pushes your knees wide. You try to close them but he plants one of his own between them. You whimper as your swollen cunt throbs.

“Please,” you beg weakly, reaching to cover your pelvis.

“It’s okay, honey,” Andy sets a hand next to your head to hold himself over you, “we’re getting to the good part.”

“Fucking lame…” Ransom mutters.

You wriggle and put your other hand on Andy’s chest, “please,” you repeat.

“Shh, honey, I’m gonna be good to you,” he feels along your thigh and your insides clench. It’s not over.

You could sob as he touches your folds. You’re overwrought to the point of delirium. He slides between your lips, still slick from your last falling apart. He rubs your clit until you squeak, taking it as an invitation to do more. He dips his fingers into you and back out, repeating the act as your walls squeeze him each time.

He hushes you again as you babble. He pulls his thick fingers out and spreads your cunt wide. He shifts, jarring his hips around as he drops to an elbow. How breath scalds down your face and neck as he puffs through his nose.

He pokes his tip between his knuckles, grunting as he tilts his hips. It’s then you realise what he means to do. He stretches you around his head and you whine as you sink your nails into the furry muscles along his chest. You press your other hand to his hip, repeating again your pathetic plea.

“Always taking his fucking time,” Lloyd hisses, “gonna be all day before he gets his balls wet.”

“Is that good, honey?” Andy pets your forehead as he inches into you.

You bed your legs and squeak. You can barely breathe as you strain to take him in. Your already tender cunt thrums around his intrusion. His small rocking motion jostles you as he tries to ease deeper and deeper. He stops halfway as you cry out, the resistance of your body trapping him.

“Just relax,” he coos as he frames your face, kissing your forehead, “relax,” he coaxes, hips still in rhythm as he battles past the barrier, “honey, I’m being… nice.”

He grunts and snaps his hips, breaking past your last defenses. You wail as you push on his pelvis, still trying to stop him. Your hand trails over to his stomach, slightly soft and as thick as the rest of him. There’s an extra layer of fat there unlike the other men and their firm abs.

“I’m fucking bored,” Lloyd growls but you can’t track his movement as Andy blocks out the room with his body.

You grit your teeth as he reaches his limit, well past your own. You arch your back and feet as you bring both your hands to his shoulders. Your eyes wet and roll back as you garble senselessly. You want him to stop. He said he wouldn’t let them hurt you but here he is, hurting you himself.

Andy’s arm slips under your neck, propping your head up as he covers your mouth with his own. That kiss disgusts you. A manufactured gesture of affection all while he violates you. You want to bite him and spit in his face. You don’t have the energy, you just let it happen. You let his tongue slip inside, you let him split you in two.

There’s another crumple of paper. You don’t react. You’re limp, nearly lifeless beneath Andy as he fucks you with long strokes. Your eyes slit just enough to see as something lands beside you on the couch. Another torn remnant of wrapping paper.

“What do you know?” Lloyd clucks, “it’s one of mine.”

There’s a slap of flesh that has Andy ramming harder into you as he parts from your mouth and grunts.

“Come on, big boy, turn her over.”

“Fuck off,” Andy sneers.

“This isn’t the deal. Turn her over,” Lloyd insists, “it’s two against one if you wanna fuck around and find out.”

Ransom shadow lurks closer as your eyes drift. Andy sighs and curls his arm tighter around your neck while hooking the other around your waist. He sinks down into you and turns you over with him, bringing himself under you. The hard zipper of his open fly bites into you.

You lay bent over him, your head lolling over his shoulder as you shiver with the new flow of cool air across your back. There’s the crinkle of plastic behind you. You don’t care. It can’t be worse if you don’t know what’s going on.

Andy frames your hip and keeps you moving on him. Your legs are weak and jittery as you straddle him. His other hand comes to your chin and he lifts your head, holding you above him as he once more draws you into a desperate kiss. A kiss laced in denial and delusion.

There’s a pinch on your ass and you squeal into Andy’s mouth. The sharp tweak is followed by a jarring slap across the flesh. Lloyd snickers and a cold liquid oozes between your cheeks. You clench at the slimy liquid leaking around your puckered hole.

“I got the flavoured stuff, pussy cat,” he clicks a cap as your ears prick, your eyes searching side to side.

Lloyd’s fingers slip between your cheeks and he circles around your hole. You whimper but Andy keeps you locked in, hand curling around your hip as his other stretches across your throat. The tickle against your tight ring turns to a stinging burn as a thick finger pushes inside, wiggling as it tests your resistance.

You nearly bite Andy as your eyes well. He pushes you away from his mouth as you heave and struggle to bear through the fiery pain radiating from your ass. Lloyd pushes to his first knuckle, then his second, and finally the last. You eke out tiny noises as you struggle to catch your breath.

Andy hushes as he rocks from below, still fucking you, still using you despite this new trespass. You dig your nails into his chest, arms trapped between your bodies, and quiver.

“H-urts,” you babble, “please…”

“Shhh, you’ll be okay,” Andy rasps.

Lloyd snickers as he pulls his finger out and lines up a second. You squeeze your eyes shut and tense as he forces in two that time. He’s less patient as he bulldozes inside, wiggling his fingers inside you once more. He thrusts in and out, the flames licking hotter and hotter.

He pulls his fingers all the way out and licks you instead. The sensation is almost soothing as he laps at your hole. He greedily swirls his tongue, pausing to poke his fingers in a few times, then resumes his loud, gross licking.

The razing sensation of Lloyd’s tending mingles with the pressure of Andy inside you. Your walls twitch as you feel the coil winding tight. No, it shouldn’t feel good. Stop, please stop.

Lloyd buries his fingers, keeping them deep, tilting his hand against you as he curls his knuckles. You can feel it in your cunt along with Andy’s steady motion. You bubble over and whine as you cum, both holes spasming as you succumb to the wave of rolling pleasure.

Andy growls as Lloyd snickers and slides his fingers free. You sense a shift behind you but the grip on your neck keeps you from looking.

“Go for it,” Lloyd chuckles, “loosened her up nice and good for you.”

Another drizzle of cold lube drips down to your now burning hole. You flinch as two hands spread over your cheeks and pull them wide. Ransom pushes your ass together before smacking it. The impact scours your flesh.

He hums and slides his dick between your cheeks. His rigid length glides between the oily flesh as he leans over you, one hand on the armrest to keep himself on his feet. He rocks as he slickens his dick from tip to base before lining up with your hole.

He pushes the head of his dick against you, grunting as he leans his weight into you. You let out a shrill cry as he forces his way inside. Even just his tip is enough to break you. Tears spring free and stream down your cheeks.

He jerks his hips, ramming deeper than you’re ready for. You wail and grasp Andy’s wrist as he nearly chokes your voice out of you. Your eyes meet his, blurry with your agony, but you see the glint in his irises. That tic in his cheek. He’s lost in what he wants. You see him clearly. Selfish, a liar.

Ransom puts his knee on the end of the section as he thrusts again, deeper and deeper. As he does, Andy moves you between them in tandem. The crush of them around you is suffocating. The air is sticky and roiling around you.

Your heart hammers as terror takes over. There is no pleasure to be found anymore. Your chest feels ready to burst as you pant through your constricted throat. Your head pounds as you hyperventilate through your nostrils.

Your hand is pulled away from Andy’s shoulder. Your fingers are once more closed around a rigid length, held closed by another to pump up and down. Your eyes flutter and flip back into your head. Your ears buzz and your body grows heavy. You feel yourself fading as you can’t get enough air into your lungs.

Ransom ruts harder from behind, jolting you into Andy. The fullness is painful and all-consuming. They work together, torturing your insides as one slides in only for the other to slide in. You are overflowing and overstimulated.

Your arm shakes and aches as Lloyd keeps it moving. He groans as he steps closer, his shadow cast over you. He grabs your chin to turn your hand above Andy’s knuckles. He groans as he keeps your hand moving around him. He grunts and aims his tip down, spurting all down your face, from your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, to your chin.

He drags his throbbing head through the glaze of his cum. He smears it all around and pushes his tip against your lips. He snickers meanly as he pushes between your lips. You taste the salty repugnance and nearly gag. You’re too tired, too weak to be disgusted.

He fucks your mouth casually as Andy keeps you in place for him. He relents only as you feel him starting to go soft. He slides out and steps back, letting out an emphatic sigh of satisfaction. He taps your cheek with a cluck.

“Look at the little pussy cat,” he mocks. “Not so fucking smiley now.”

You blink and your head falls over Andy’s grip. Then the rest of you slackens. You’re a doll, lifeless between the men, a thing to be played with. You welcome your descent into the abyss, your only escape from this hell.

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awesomefringey · 11 months ago

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I haven't been able to find a good fic to read in about 7 months, I've only read A Distant Hazy Light over and over, but I need a good fic to get this out of my system

Ok, I understand we need to do something about it but first of all @greenfeelings wrote a brilliant series! So, I get it!!!

I read so many wonderful fics this year, here are some of them, maybe they’re for you too:

Is This Flying Or Falling by Holdingontochaos (A/B/O) It’s very sexy and very emotional. It’s also a lot of hurt and comfort. (Harry is traumatized from a past relationship, see the tags for triggers)

Quiet People Have The Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (A/B/O) I rediscovered it this year and couldn’t put it down again. It’s so very very sweet and made me feel warm and fuzzy.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky This is the most epic fic. I was worried it would be too dark and too real for my liking with the WWII setting, but the author finds a great balance to create a very real and life threatening atmosphere without it being too unbearable. Although I cried a lot! It is one of the best fics I’ve ever read. Great writing, amazing pacing, a truly unique love story.

Just Breathe With Me by @she-bear369 The Yoga fic. I couldn’t put this fic down. I loved their chemistry and how it was immediately palpable that there was something between them. Also Yoga instructor Louis is truly inspiring! Both Louis and Harry come with a bit of trauma they need to work through, but I loved to watch them process them and grow to be even better people, for themselves and for each other.

Love Is A Word You Gave It A Name by @larrydoinglaundry (3 part series) This one is pretty popular, so maybe you’ve read them already? If not, you must! I can’t really prepare you for it, other than that Louis and Harry will build a room in your heart and never leave it. I’ve read this one (and the 2nd part) multiple times, just to spend time with them.

Secrets, Santa? by @indiaalphawhiskey This fic is a gift to our fandom. I still don’t understand how we deserve authors like India. I’ve been wheezing and screaming over Harry, he’s absolutely hilarious and I love him to bits. The way Harry stubbornly thirsts after Louis is as silly as it is understandable because DAMN Louis is a CEO and Harry is his assistant and why isn’t this a Hallmark Christmas movie and thank god it isn’t because this one is so much better! I read this multiple times and it’ll be forever my go-to fic to get into the Christmas spirit.

And a little extra rec because you’re into A/B/O:

Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie This fic was recommended to me recently and I haven’t read it yet but will before the year ends. So if you’re curious, give this one a go.

You can check my tags as well: larry fanfic rec, abo larry fanfiction or larry fanfiction (which is all of my reblogs for fics)

#ask #larry fanfic rec #it’s almost a best of for 2023 #but there are so many missing #should I do a best of?#oh god #larry fanfiction #abo larry fanfiction

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lou-struck · 11 months ago

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Golden Rings

Mammon x reader

25 Days of Ficmas Day 5

Wc: 1.5k

~After joining you at your friend's wedding last summer Mammon surprises you with a special early Christmas gift.

Your friend has never looked happier as he and his bride exchange Golden rings at the altar. A few of the groomsmen wipe away tears from their eyes as they watch two people who are perfect for each other swear to love each other for the rest of their days.

It's a beautiful barn wedding, one that you thankfully were able to attend after you had the prince of the Devildom himself make a portal for you and your plus one to go through.

"Oi Mc," your aforementioned wedding date whispers into your ear. Mammon has been watching the wedding in fascination. After all, there are not many demons who have been able to witness a human wedding ceremony. It intrigues the Avatar of Greed, who, unbeknownst to you, wonders one day if he would be able to participate in this grand and expensive ceremony with you. His human.

"What is it?" you whisper softly. Your eyes are still trained on the bride and groom, but you feel Mammon reach over to grab ahold of your hand. It's a comfort for him in these unfamiliar situations.

"What's with the rings?" He whispers back.

"They're wedding rings," he whispers back distractedly. You really do want to watch the rest of the ceremony, but if you don't quell Mammon's curiosity now, he may continue to ask for a deeper explanation. "those are special rings humans give to each other as a sign of devotion and commitment to the person they love." Your response was lacking a bit of crucial information, but it seemed to do the trick for Mammon, who nodded thoughtfully and greedily took your hand, wanting to hold it for the rest of the day.

Honestly, he would let you hold his hand for the rest of his life if you could.

But for now, he is happy just spending this time with you as your chosen date for this wedding.

It is now Christmas time in the Devildom, and everyone is out getting swept up in the usual holiday hustle and bustle. You yourself have just gotten back from a rather chaotic shopping spree with Asmo. The Avatar of Lust is a wonderful shopping partner and was able to help you cross off most of the items on your list. You still have a few random gifts to pick up, but thanks to his superhuman shopping ability, you are well ahead of the game.

Your arms feel like lead from hauling your heavy shopping bags around as you drag yourself and soon-to-be-wrapped presents down the hallway to your bedroom. Your muscles strain under the weight of your financial decisions, and you wonder if maybe next year you should just purchase gift cards for everyone.

You are so distracted you don't even process that someone is turning the corner in the hallway until you find yourself bumping into their strong chest. Your shopping bags clatter to the ground as you stumble fully into an unsuspecting Mammon.

"Shoot," you huff, meeting the demon's eyes. Although you two have been far more intimate than just a bump in the hallway his tanned cheeks are already turning pink from the innocent collision. "Sorry, Mammon, I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Silly human, what do ya think yer doin haulin all that stuff by yourself?" he asks, looking down at the tiny mountain of gifts that you had bought today. There is a familiar twinkle in his eye as he ponders the stack, and you know what he is going to ask you.

"Is any of this for me?"

You shake your head now. "surprisingly, no, I've already got all my shopping done for you this year. "

The look of unadulterated joy on his face feels like a present. If he wasn't so focused on trying to look cool in front of you all the time, he probably would've broken out into a happy dance right there on the carpet. "It's cause I'm yer favorite, isn't it? Then you should definitely let me open a present early."

"It's not Christmas yet." You say in an attempt to remain firm, but once you look at those damn puppy dog eyes of his, you find yourself relenting. "Fine, you can open one present tonight. But if you say anything to anyone else, I'm taking all of them back to the store."

He smiles victoriously and completely ignores your threat. "Yer the best Mc. Lemme go grab one of yours, and I'll meet ya in your room away from the others." He runs off in a flurry of excitement, leaving you with the realization that you have just been played.

As you slowly make your way to your room, you pray to whoever is listening that the rest of the Brothers don't find out about this little act of favoritism.

Today's purchases had just been tucked away into your closet as you brew yourself a pot of festive candy cane tea for the occasion.

You look over at your table of wrapped gifts and admire the different wrapping paper you got for each brother, as well as those who live in the Castle and Purgatory Hall. As promised, you selected Mammon's first gift from the pile. His metallic gold printed wrapping paper glistens under the flickering lights of your enchanted candle lamp as it waits to be unwrapped.

You hear a light rapping on your bedroom door. "It's unlocked, you call as you pour yourself a cup of tea.

Mammon walks in, holding a little wrapped box no larger in size than a wallet. The wrapping paper he chose is printed with dozens of little gold coins and stacks of grim on the front. "Ready for yer gift?" he asks, plopping down on your bed and placing his present on his lap.

"Not as ready as you seem to be." you grin, swiping the long rectangular box off your table. Out of all of the gifts that you have gotten for Mammon this year, this one may not be the most expensive, but it is something that he will be able to use hopefully on Christmas Eve.

You hold out the box to him, and he takes it. Greed shines in his eyes as his fingers dance over the paper. Already finding the seam you had taped shut.

Something in him shifts, and he lets go of the box. "You should open yer's first."

You blink and surprise. This is the Avatar of Greed we are talking about here. He always wants to be the first one to open gifts. What's so different about this one?

"Are you sure?"

"Yea, I already know you're gonna love it." he practically shoves his gift into your hands. As much as you would like to continue this back-and-forth, your curiosity is getting the better of you.

Gently, you rip open the packaging. The paper crumpled the ground, revealing a small crushed black-velvet box.

Did he get your jewelry?

If he's starting Christmas by gifting you something so expensive, you are starting to feel a little insecure about your first gift to him.

"Mammon, are you sure it's okay if I open this early?" You ask tentatively. He knows eagerly

"totally,

With his encouragement, you flip open the box to reveal not one but two thin golden rings fastened to dainty gold chains. They're beautiful, but the way Mammon is practically buzzing in his seat tells you there's something more to this gift than just being pretty jewelry.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that the bands are two separate sizes, one that looks to be the size of your finger and one that looks to fit Mammons.

"These necklaces are beautiful. Are they for both of us?" You ask, taking the one meant for you out of the box.

The look on his face tells you that you are absolutely right. "I thought you and I could wear wedding rings so the rest of them would know how crazy we are about each other."

"Wedding Rings?" you repeat carefully. Your fingers fiddle with the clasp as you look to the demon for an explanation.

"Yea, I've been thinkin' about this since we went to that weddin in the Human world." His cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, but he continues with his explanation. "It got me thinkin' that even if we weren't married, we could still wear these to show that we care for each other." your heart flutters, and you are amazed that he has come up with such a cute gift idea from your terrible explanation of what a wedding ring is.

"This is perfect." you beam looping the necklace around your neck to show him how much you appreciate the gift.

"R-really?" he says, looking relieved. The rings were cool and all, but I thought the necklaces looked cooler, so I went with that." he laughs, putting his own necklace on. But then, if you were the only one wearin it, then it seemed wrong, so I got one for me too."

"I love it," you say genuinely. Ignoring the nervousness that bubbles up in your stomach as you glance down at his unopened present stuffed with the PJs you got for him.

#obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #Mammon fluff #obey me fluff #the great mammon #x reader

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richarlotte · 5 months ago

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High Class Dating.

I’m spending the summer interning in New York before I move to California and I’ve not had any trouble at all when it comes to getting dates, meeting men, or being taken out. I do sugar date and date hypergamously because if you’ve not leveled up your dating game in 2024, you’re missing out. I think it’s imperative to only except dates with men that make you feel good, have good careers and have something to offer, and make an effort to treat you like a lady. 2024 is the decade of the black woman and I know what I want so it’s time for me to get it. I’ve been dating since I was 18, I’m not a love guru by any means but I hold my own, and I love going out and having a good time with high quality men who will treat me well and show me their lifestyle.

My Stats.

As a background, here are my stats: I’m about 5’11 and weigh 140 pounds, I’m dark skin, and I have alopecia (I do wear a wig). Am I drop dead gorgeous? I’m not Jasmine Tookes but I’m confident and love the way I look, I’ve taken time to level up, I have a good workout routine and a toned body, and I’ve made strides with my personal style and makeup skills over the past few years. I’m happy to make posts related to the process that I went through when I started leveling up, the changes I made to my style and to my makeup routine, and the workout routine and some of the food I eat to keep myself healthy and motivated. I don’t believe in dating out of desperation and I think that it’s always important to make an effort if you are a woman; if you make an effort and know your audience then you’ll find that it’s easier to meet people and go to better places.

A few of my dates.

I went to lunch at the Penn Club with a man who I met on Hinge. He’s a successful young plastic surgeon and we spoke for two days before he asked me out on his first day off. He was tall, had big brown eyes and a strong jaw, handsome, an excellent conversationalist, and very intelligent. He made such an effort to take me somewhere beautiful, treat me well, and make sure that I was having fun and he had so much potential. I really liked our date and think it’s one of the best I’ve been on since I landed in New York for my internship.

I went to Martha’s Vineyard for Fourth of July weekend with another date. His family owns a huge house on the island and I’d mentioned to him that I wanted to go somewhere that felt luxurious so he invited me and a few of my friends to visit. It was a beautiful long weekend and I got to do so much; we swam, cooked, watched the fireworks, danced, listened to so much good music, and got to know each other better. I love a man who comes for money and has his own money but is still humble and he is the definition of a good guy.

I feel like every girl has her own story about going out with an NHL player but OMG let me tell you mine. I went out with a Swedish NHL player and these wealthy Scandinavian men and athletes love black women. People will try to say that they only like thin blondes but this man treated me like a princess, he still sends me gifts, he got me tickets for the Stanley Cup finals, and he’s an angel with the most beautiful accent I’ve ever heard. I slid into his DMs on IG and then he was messaging me an hour later, liking all my pics, and asking me if I’ve ever been to Sweden. I’m going to try to go visit Stockholm in December to try to see him during Christmas when I know he’ll be back at home.

How I meet men.

I use Bumble, Hinge, and the good old-fashioned way of leading people in person. I can do a post on the best way I’ve met people in person and some of the venues I like. I think everyone who reads this will agree that there’s just something about a man who treats you well, is strong, and has a thick wallet and good looks. Every girl deserves a guy like that and I think it’s important that black women do not take any bullshit and don’t compromise on what they want. There are men out there who would drop everything in their hands to do something for me, the princess treatment isn’t a myth at all, and I have met so many men who are able and willing to invest in me and my lifestyle. Again, if you know what you want, then you’re going to get it but you have to be willing to put the work in.

Richarlotte x

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heyitsme1040 · 1 year ago

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Winter's Soldier [b.b]

summary : When it came to the cold, Bucky hated it. Before the train he tolerated it, understood why people enjoyed winter. But ever since he fell from the train, he despised the cold. Once winter fully set in, he became antsy and didn’t want to be too far from you. It wasn’t until he returned from a hard mission that he finally opened up about his dislike of the cold to you.

pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings : None, talk of Bucky losing his arm (if I missed anything please let me know!)

word count : 1,200

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day four of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘warmth’. So this one turned into a comfort/angst/comfort sandwich. But still, I really like how this one turned out. You can also tell I’ve mentally lingered on what it would’ve been like for Bucky after falling before being found. This is an idea I’ve lingered on for years, and here’s a glimpse into that thought process. Also I wanted the ending to be really cheesy and fluffy, so sorry if that isn’t your cup of tea.

You weren’t expecting much when you entered your apartment after running errands. Bucky was gone on a mission, due to return soon, but you weren’t quite sure when. Closing the door behind you, you toed off your shoes by the door before pulling off your coat. As soon as you removed your coat, you were pleasantly surprised by how cozy the apartment was. Walking into the living room, you couldn’t help the startled yelp that escaped you when you realized the pile of blankets on the couch was your boyfriend.

“Hi doll,” Bucky tiredly greeted.

“Bucky, hi! When did you get back?” You walked toward him.

“Just a little bit ago. I was about to call you, I just got out of the shower then turned on the heater. How was your day?”

As you got closer to him he held his arms out, opening up the cocoon of blankets he’d wrapped himself in. He was quick to tug you into his lap and wrap the both of you back into his blankets. He held you tightly, nuzzling himself against you as close as possible.

“It was fine. I finished that prototype in the lab today. Then I went to the mall to see what they were putting out for christmas. I know it’s only November, but I don’t want to wait until the last minute again to get gifts for everyone. I feel like everyone knew I’d put off doing it until it was almost too late,” you kissed his cheek.

“Nah, everyone loved your gifts. Steve’s honestly upset that he’s almost worn down every pencil from that sketch kit you chose and bought three more of those sketch books since. Sam wears the watch every day, Tony cherishes the little robot friend you made and keeps it on his workbench, and Nat keeps the knives you’d got customized sharp. There’s no way they have any idea you’d done it all the week before,” Bucky reassures.

You shrug, pleased they all still enjoyed the things you’d gotten them. “Still, I feel guilty. But how are you? How’d the mission go, I know you had to leave suddenly.”

“The mission itself was successful. However, I hated being in Europe again. I swear it’s just gotten colder since the forties. I hated it, there was so much snow when we got there. It just continued snowing every day too, so there wasn’t any way we could avoid it,” Bucky grumbled.

You felt Bucky shiver harshly. Despite the cozy temperature he had the apartment at, the four blankets on the two of you, and the fact he was radiating heat it was like he couldn’t be warm enough. You carefully slipped your hand from the cocoon of blankets and stroked his cheek. He turned to kiss your palm quickly before using his own hand to pull yours back into the warmth around the two of you. You couldn’t tell if the reason Bucky was a little tense was due to him feeling cold or if there was something else going on.

“Yeah, the cold can be pretty bad sometimes. I like the cooler weather at the start of fall, but once it’s winter time I can’t stand it. It’s just too much with all the snow. The way it first lands is mesmerizing, sure, but then it melts into slush before more snow falls. Then everything is just an icy, damp, cold mess,” you admit.

“It used to not be so bad,” Bucky quietly whispers against you. “The cold was horrible, but the way New York looked and came to life in the winter was breathtaking. I loved the way the snow fell and made everything look so different. And my sister was always so excited when the snow fell. But after everything, I can’t stand the cold nor the snow anymore.”

“Oh Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”

“It’s alright, doll. At first it wasn’t too bad. I’d just fallen, and landed in this deep pile of snow. The coldness actually made everything numb at first. I tried to move, to sit up, but I couldn’t. That was the moment I first saw my arm wasn’t–” Bucky shook his head as he choked up. “I tried to yell for help, but knew it was useless. Despite this, I shouted until my voice was gone. The cold had moved from providing a numbness to painful. I felt myself slowly slipping into something. I’m not sure if it was just unconsciousness or if those were meant to be my final moments. I’d finally heard the crunching of snow and ice as people approached. I thought that it was Steve, that they’d gotten Zola and he’d somehow found me again. But I was so wrong. I was roughly yanked from the snow before the unconsciousness took over. The next time I woke up was in a lab with Zola over me.”

Bucky harshly blinked, and you could tell he was refusing to let the memory take any more from him. You held onto him tightly, gently promising him you’d never let him go cold again. He slowly relaxed into you.

“I’m sorry,” he sheepishly breaks the comforting silence. “That’s why I’ve been so weird about the apartment recently. I just, I keep thinking about what it’s like to truly be cold. So now, when the weather is chilly I feel this prickling under my skin. I do everything possible to make sure it isn’t cold here, that you won’t be able to feel the cold. Because it wasn’t bad at first, and now I can’t stand the idea of the cold. It’s just that, I know it isn’t cold in here but I can’t stop from thinking about how cold it is outside. And how easily the cold can just get colder to the point it feels like you’re burning up. And that thought just won’t go away.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I understand, and your feelings are more than valid Buck,” you reassure. “I am more than happy to stay cuddled up with you all winter if that will bring you some comfort.”

Bucky slinks an arm under your knees and supports your back as he stands, “In that case,” he smirks while walking to your shared bed. “I think a change of scenery is due.”

You smile at your sweet boyfriend, the one that so many think is cold. They couldn’t be any more wrong about this sweet, caring, protective man. He laid on the bed, pulling you onto his chest before covering the two of you up again. You bury your face into the warmth of him, lightly rubbing his side in aimless patterns. Doing anything you can think of to remind him he’s far away from the snowy mountains of 1945. Gradually, Bucky’s body grows more and more lax under your touch. His breathing feels the steadiest it’s been since the cold weather came in.

“You're my warmth,” he tenderly swears.

“And you’re mine,” you kiss his lips for a long moment. “You don’t have to worry about the cold ever again. Winter’s a battle that you’ve won, Soldier.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky rolls his eyes, chuckling at your cheesy declaration.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

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