#Lightweight headphones | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sirfrogsworth · 3 months ago

Text

Froggie's Guide to Budget Headphones

@nimrella I am more well versed in traditional audio and home theater with big honking speakers, so I don't have much personal experience with headphones and headphone accessories. But I can tell you what I've learned from other people who are in the headphone world. And since you are starting more within the "budget" range I think I am somewhat qualified to guide you at this level.

You have three paths to choose from...

Wireless, low impedance wired (no amplification required), and high impedance wired (amplification required).

Basically... easy, medium, and hard.

But also... good, better, best.

Wireless Headphones

Wireless headphones have come a long way. Audiophiles used to scoff at them but now there are options that really do sound fantastic and the Bluetooth data rates are good enough to deliver high resolution audio. They also have noise cancellation options which may be desirable. If you do not have a quiet, dedicated space for listening to music you might find high end noise cancellation a godsend. People love them especially for planes, trains, and automobiles.

I don't know if everyone knows how noise cancellation works or not, but basically the headphones have microphones that listen to the world around you. They measure the incoming sound and then generate an opposite sound that just about kills ambient noise. If you play the same sound 180 degrees out of phase it basically nullifies those sound waves. The tech works best between 50 Hz and 1000 Hz. For reference we hear between 20 Hz and 20,000 Hz (lower if you are old). So anything super high or super low pitched can still get through.

In any case, if that sounds appealing, wireless headphones should be a consideration.

The other advantage of wireless headphones would be the ease of use. They pair to your phone, your laptop, your TV. They have controls to help you pause and skip songs and change volume. Some allow you to take phone calls.

But the big downside is the sound quality takes a bit of a hit. As I said, the bluetooth standards have actually gotten very very good. (Though there are audiophiles who will swear it still sounds like a 1990s MP3.) So streaming the actual media files are not really an issue. But trying to cram all of that tech into lightweight headphones you can wear around town all day requires compromises and added expense. Not to mention the battery has a limited lifespan. You may have more limited or inconsistent frequency response, poor dynamic range, distortion problems, weak output, and a high noise floor. Wireless options still can't match wired headphone systems in the same price range. And the wireless options that come close are quite spendy.

Wireless Headphones Suggestions

In your price range the two wireless options that I hear mentioned over and over again are the Sony WH-1000 series and the Bose QuietComfort. They are both well regarded for having a good mix of sound quality and noise cancellation while also being a decent value. You might be able to visit a Best Buy and demo them to see if you prefer the sound and comfort of one over the other.

The Apple AirPods Max are said to work really well within the Apple ecosystem. They have some interesting spatial sound modes and very good audio quality. I've heard the noise cancellation is some of the best currently available. But they seem too expensive and a lot of people feel they are too heavy. I also suspect they are due for an update. That said, if you wait for the new ones to come out and buy used, they could come into your price range. I'd really only suggest these if you have multiple Apple products that you will be streaming sound from.

Before we move into wired headphones, let's go over some terms that you might see pop up when doing research and reading reviews.

Froggie's Glossary of Audiophile Terminology

Driver A speaker is made up of drivers. Some speakers have a woofer, a midrange, and a tweeter. Each individual thing is a driver. And with headphones you will often hear "headphone driver" instead of speaker because it is more specific. Headphones typically have an all-in-one driver that does all frequencies. A woofymidteet.

That's not a thing.

I made that up.

Frequency Response This is the range of frequencies produced by the drivers from low to high. You want to make sure your headphones have good, deep bass. That will make more of a difference than anything else. It's the foundation of all sound and what is sorely lacking in devices with small/cheap speakers.

Music typically doesn't go much below 40 Hz in the bass range. So if you are only interested in music listening, that is plenty deep. Movies can go down to 20 Hz, but this isn't necessary for a good immersive experience unless you have giant subwoofers. So if you find something that can play ~40 Hz with decent output, you should be all good. Every speaker has a frequency response curve. It looks something like this.

The X-axis represents the frequency and the Y-axis represents the volume in decibels. We are most concerned with the 40 to 10K Hz section, as most sound happens there.

I'm not going to go super in-depth and overwhelm everyone, but typically you want this graph to look fairly flat in that range. A flat-ish line will give you a "neutral" response.

The above graph gets a little bumpy in the high frequencies. That means those frequencies will have a higher volume than the lower frequencies. If a higher frequency has a big peak, that could make your sound seem too bright or tinny.

Or you could have the opposite problem. You could have a null in the bass where the output dips below everything else. This can make your sound a bit anemic and lacking punch.

Whereas a more flat speaker will output all frequencies at about the same volume and sound much more balanced and smooth.

Equalization or EQ A flat response is good because it will accept EQ well. Equalization is where you add peaks and dips in volume deliberately to taste.

This can be as simple as 3 knobs.

Or it can be a more complicated parametric EQ.

A lot of digital EQ methods have presets to help get you started. I promise it isn't as intimidating as it looks.

Some people like to buy speakers/headphones that are EQ'd how they prefer out of the box. (Or if you get Beats by Dre they just turn the bass all the way up and say "Fuck them other frequencies!") But this is often a bit of a crapshoot because it is hard to EQ a speaker that sounds good in every room or every environment or just to varying individual preferences.

By making the speaker more neutral, it can be much easier to equalize specifically to your needs and enjoyment.

So if you like the bass a little bassier and the mids a little quieter, you have the power to dial that in with great specificity on a neutral speaker. You can apply any EQ you wish and you won't be fighting the speaker's predetermined response.

Basically if you are reading reviews and the headphones are described as "flat" or "neutral" that's a good thing (in my opinion). Just remember nothing is going to be perfectly flat. We're shooting for flat-ish.

If you do decide to get a neutral sounding pair of headphones you may find them a little bland out of the box. Do not panic. You just need to learn a bit about how to apply EQ, but thankfully YouTube is plentiful with tutorials.

The Harman Curve was researched to be most liked by the most people, so you might start there. (Also, SoundSource is a very popular EQ app for Mac.)

Dynamic Range This is the spectrum of how quiet to loud something can get. If you have speakers that can render both a pin drop and a big explosion with great fidelity and proper intensity, you will be in audio heaven. There is so much emotion and drama that can be expressed by expansive dynamic range and most cheap speakers compress it to an inch of its life. When the soft and the loud sounds are the same you miss out on so much audio information intended by the composer.

Distortion This is just how loud a speaker can go without breaking up. Low distortion is good. While every driver distorts at some point, usually that is at a much higher volume than you will use. This typically only plagues cheap, tiny drivers.

Sound Pressure Level (SPL) This is a measurement of how loud a speaker can get. While you don't want to listen to anything louder than a sustained average decibel level of 80 to 85, you do want peaks over 100, especially in the bass. Bass is less damaging to ears and hearing damage is all about sustained volume rather than quick peaks here and there. Most headphones can comfortably do an SPL between 90 and 110 dB. The ability to go louder is good, but only because that expands headroom, not because you should actually listen to them that loud. So if the headphones can get super loud, that means they will have a much easier time delivering normal levels.

Noise Floor Every sound system has background noise. You know that static you hear when you turn a radio up really loud when there is no sound playing? That is your noise floor. You want that to be as quiet as possible because if you turn up the volume, you don't just turn up the volume of the sounds you want to hear, you also turn up the volume of that background noise.

If you can find a headphone system with a decent low noise floor and you can also find a very quiet space to listen in, you could have a religious experience. I don't think people realize how much the room you are in matters, even when listening to headphones. When you are in a quiet room, you can play at lower volumes. And that can mitigate a lot of the problems associated with cranking the volume. You won't damage your ears for one thing. But the speakers won't have to work as hard so you'll have less distortion and better clarity.

Noise mostly comes from the amplifier, which I will talk about later on.

Froggie Pro Tip: If you want cheap speakers to perform better, go to a quiet room and move them as close as possible. This allows you to play them at a lower output while maintaining your desired perceived volume.

Okay, now we can finally talk about...

Wired Headphones

You have open back and closed back styles.

Open back tends to have a more natural sound and feels more comfortable. Like listening to regular speakers. People generally feel they are able to listen to them longer because they don't create a seal and cause pressure on your ear drum. However, if sound can get out, it can also get in. So with open back headphones people nearby will be able to hear what you are listening to. And if you are not in a quiet room, all of that sound will leak in. Meaning you have to increase the volume and the noise floor and the distortion.

Closed back seals off your ears and gives you a quiet and immersive experience. You can be in a noisier room without having to crank the volume as much. Some prefer this style just because it helps them feel like they are going into their own personal dimension of sound. These are great for ASMR too. But ear fatigue can become an issue and you may need to take little breaks to let your ears breathe and your ear drums rest.

And the last thing we need to discuss is impedance.

The impedance of headphones mostly determines how hard they are to amplify. Impedance is measured in ohms which is this little horseshoe symbol... Ω.

Lower ohms means less electrical resistance and easier to amplify.

Higher ohms means more electrical resistance and difficult to amplify.

If you get headphones rated below 100 ohms, they can typically be driven by smartphones and laptops just by plugging into a standard headphone jack. Though depending on the device, 100 may sound a little quiet so you may want to go lower. 30 ohms is fairly typical if you plan to drive your headphones with everyday electronics.

Above 100 ohms you are going to need some sort of amplification—usually a DAC with a headphone amplifier. (There are DACs without amplification so be sure to check that.)

A DAC, or digital-to-analog converter, is already built into your phone and laptop. But those are very small, don't have a lot of power, and might have a higher noise floor due to interference from other components and heat and just a lot of electrical signals nearby.

By getting an external DAC w/amplifier you separate out the components, make them larger and more powerful, and typically improve the sound quality. Because it is more isolated, the amplification can be much quieter despite being more powerful.

If you plan to stay in a static location and you have high impedance headphones, you can get a little box DAC that sits on your desk. It works like an external sound card for your computer. If you record music or stream, a digital audio interface works great as well (remember to check the Ω).

But if you need to be more mobile with your headphones you can get a little USB dongle DAC, though you will probably not get the same sound quality and power.

Both will be superior to the internal DAC built into your computing devices.

So, low impedance headphones are easier if you need to move around.

High impedance headphones are better for staying put in a single location unless you get a dongle DAC.

Just remember, high and low impedance doesn't necessarily indicate quality. It's just that in order to drive high impedance headphones you need the larger amplifier with the nicer components and, by necessity, you automatically get that quality bump.

You can get very good low impedance headphones. However, if you power them *only* with a smartphone, you may not use them to their full potential. Which is why getting an external DAC is a good idea regardless.

But the nice thing about low impedance is you can get the headphones and still use them until you save up for the DAC. Or you can use them as normal while out and about and have a special listening spot at home with the DAC.

To review...

Low impedance and high impedance can both be high quality.

Low impedance (less than 100 ohms) works with anything.

High impedance (more than 100 ohms) requires amplification.

Both will be used to their full potential with a DAC/headphone amplifier of some kind.

Wired Headphones Suggestions

Again, I have not personally listened to any of these. I am just relaying what experts I trust have mentioned as being nice quality in your price range.

The beyerdynamic DT 770 headphones are some of the most well-regarded budget headphones I've heard of. They come in low and high impedance versions.

The Sennheiser HD 560 high impedance headphones are also praised for their value and performance.

If you can go a little pricier...

The HIFIMAN Sundara headphones have low impedance and can be driven easily by all your devices.

And the HIFIMAN Edition XS are even lower impedance and about the same price.

And if you want to try a DAC, I've heard good things about both Fosi and Schiit (yes, like the poopies), though there are many different brands. Just make sure the DAC has a headphone amplifier rated for the ohms you need.

The FOSI K5 Pro is a cheap "beginner" DAC that will power anything up to 300 ohms. This is the kind that sits on your desk.

And if you want a more portable dongle DAC, you can get something like the iFi Go Link.

I've also heard good things about the AudioQuest Dragonfly, though I hate recommending AudioQuest products due to them claiming they can do magical things. They use scientific gobbledygook to scam customers most of the time. That said, the DragonFly might be their only valid product.

Note from Future Froggie: AudioQuest just can't help themselves. While the Dragonfly itself is a good product and not a scam, they developed the "DragonTail", which is a scam.

It's just a USB A to C Adapter for the Dragonfly. But they have to find a way to justify 30 fucking dollars so they came up with this bullshit.

Definitely need to stabilize my geometry. If I have unstable geometry that could lead to quixotic trigonometry. And we all know that could introduce vertices into dodecahedrons. Which leads straight to accelerated cosmotic entropy catalyzing the heat death of the universe.

Fucking AudioQuest.

ANYWAY...

An inexpensive DAC may be all you ever need but DACs can get crazy expensive—just like headphones. And if you are really fancy you can get a DAC and a headphone amplifier as separate items. Audiophiles claim when you simplify components to a singular function you increase quality. While I think there is some small truth to that, I suspect they just think the tubes look neat.

Froggie's Disclaimer: I am not telling you to get these specific things, but I do think you'll probably be happy with anything I've suggested. But sound is a subjective experience and it is always best to test things out before you buy them, if possible. Or make sure there is a return policy. You might see if there is a brick-and-mortar store nearby that allows you to demo headphones. Remember that comfort can be just as crucial as sound quality for long listening sessions.

Final Thoughts

Good sound has been life changing for me. And I am excited when anyone goes down this journey. While the stuff mentioned is considered "budget" by audiophiles, this can give you a good starting point if you want to upgrade down the road. You'll get to know your preferences and get a better understanding of how this all works and choose your own adventure from there.

Though it is very possible you'll be quite content with "budget" and the sound quality is more than enough.

Personally, while I am very happy with my current home theater setup, I am hopeful one day I can upgrade one budget tier above where I currently am and that will be my endgame. I've heard $10,000 speakers and it is mostly a land of diminishing returns once you reach that level.

I'm fine in "budget" land.

Further Research

I didn't mention the different types of headphone drivers because I didn't want to put too much data in everyone's head. But if you want to do additional research you can learn about the 4 main types... dynamic, planar magnetic, electrostatic, and balanced armature.

#long post #headphones

215 notes · View notes

syoddeye · 3 months ago

Note

hear me out... and this might sound stupid (because it sounded way cooler in my head)

Kate using her code name "Watcher" + exhibition kink

i'll see myself out

where are you going, get back here!!!

go for watcher

kate laswell x f!reader | 1.9k words cw: exhibitionism, semi-public outdoor masturbation, vibrators, dirty talk, kate laswell calling you puppy a/n: lightly edited. posting and running!

“watcher?”

“go for watcher.”

“i’m in position.”

“are you?”

the purr to kate’s voice is your first clue she’s in a good mood—a relief since her vaguely worded text sent late last night did not inspire confidence.

>> eight pm. wear the usual.

five words, followed by a pin drop for the precise location. you checked three times on your phone to ensure you were in the right place, then slipped your wireless headphones in.

the park is mercifully quiet. peeking over your shoulder, you count the couples dotting the waterfront on benches or picnic blankets. you came early with a book to stake out a prime spot: an unobstructed view of the water and a modicum of privacy. thanks to the city’s efforts to rewild patches of the wharf, a nice thicket of ornamental grasses, shrubs, and flowers mostly obscure you from behind.

“yes ma’am.”

“good. you have what you need?”

you pat the folded blanket on the bench beside you and your bag. “yes ma’am.”

“and the…?”

heat flutters in your gut, and you nod, repeating once more, “yes ma’am. in position.”

she doesn’t ask any further questions. this isn’t the first time she’s tasked you like this, nor will it be the last. both of you know the words, the limits, and the rules. the call mutes, and the anticipation ratchets immediately. a frisson works its way down your vertebrae, one by one, and beneath the lightweight trench, you shift. thighs rubbing together, wetness already pooling under your skirt.

when a few minutes pass, long enough to watch a few boats in the harbor depart for their evening cruises, you think to check your phone. ensure the call wasn’t dropped. of course, the second your hand even twitches in the direction of your bag, the toy securely snug in your cunt whirrs to life.

“fuck,” the curse flies out of your mouth in a whisper. the hand you intended to grab your phone with instead raises to your face instinctively, though you lower it after a second.

“good girl,” kate returns. “open your coat, then hands down on the bench, baby.”

it’s unfair how wet you feel from less than a minute, especially with how you know it’s on one of the lower settings. your hands tremble as they unfasten the coat’s belt and part the material to let it hang open. your knees part instinctually, preceding the instruction that typically follows. then, despite the growing ache, you curl your fingers around the worn wood and stare into the bay. a dozen boats are out tonight, and you know kate’s on one of them.

she whispers in your ear a few more times with a low rasp, cooing from a distance when your breath hitches and cracks. her words heat your face alongside the fire in your abdomen, stoked by the toy. the vibe ramps up to a six out of ten, faintly audible at this point if someone were to try and join you. it’s torturous, hearing people on the path behind you, within spitting distance.

“kate…” you whine, knees shaking, wood cutting into your hands. your cunt throbs, fingers flexing in place.

“pull up your skirt, let’s see where she’s at.”

biting your lip, you start to turn your head to check for passersby, but kate chirps.

“didn’t say to look around. c’mon, baby. skirt.”

in the back of your mind, you know she wouldn’t really let a stranger see you like this. it’s just the thrill that someone could—or so you think as you gingerly peel your skirt up your thighs. you lift off the bench an inch to hike it up further, when two voices accompanied by footsteps cut through the headphone’s dampening.

“kate–”

“i see ‘em, you’re fine. christ, you’re soaked.”

you glance down and let out a shaky breath at the sight of your slicked thighs. the tail of the toy bobs with the vibrations, dripping. your attention is torn between the state of your pussy and the couple mere paces behind you, chattering on about the view. a foot drags on the pavement.

“blanket.”

in an instant, you snatch the blanket beside you and drape it over your lap, and muster the best, most casual i’m admiring the view and nothing else expression you can.

“excuse me,” the man asks, flashing a smile as he and the woman you presume to be a wife or girlfriend walk around toward your front. “are you waiting for someone?”

the bench you occupy is certainly big enough for three or four people, and you’re plopped in the center of it. you open your mouth to answer and nearly choke as the vibe cruelly speeds up. without thinking, you cross your legs and nod furiously.

“yep. i am.”

the couple lingers, looking around the quiet park. “well, until they get here, do you think we could–”

“no, you can’t.” you blurt out, tight with frustration. usually, you’re kind, sweet, and patient. all the things kate likes about you, but the toy butts against that fucking spot that nearly has you seeing stars. only by digging a hand into your thigh under the blanket gives you the motivation to focus. “i’d like to be alone.”

the woman tugs on the man's arm and mutters something about leaving you alone.

“fine. have a nice night.” he says flatly, clearly ticked off, but he goes willingly with his partner.

kate’s back in an instant. “look at you, how mean.”

you groan quietly and pull the blanket away as the couple heads out of view. “you’re one to talk. y-you, fuck, turned it up…”

“oh, was that mean? here,” she says flatly, and the toy stops moving altogether. you reel, torn between literally taking matters into your own hands and pawing at your clit, and sitting pretty as she expects. “fix your legs. you don’t move unless i say so, puppy.”

the name hits your cunt like a slap, and you bite back a moan. the ache is almost unbearable as you uncross your legs and spread them wide. goosebumps dot your skin, the back of your neck prickling in renewed anticipation. “kate,” you start. “please, i’m sorry.”

she chuckles dryly, and you hear the sound of a cork popping. “yeah? you want me to turn it back on?”

you nod. the air chills the stickiness coating your pussy and inner thighs, the ribbons that snake down your ass. a shiver travels through you as a gust of wind blows in from the water. “please.”

something creaks on the other end. “we’ll see. why don’t you touch that pretty clit of yours instead. give her some attention. let me see the manicure i paid for.”

you ignore how she laughs when your hand instantly slides over skin, at the pleased hum that echoes your hiss. gently, as you’re incredibly worked up, you rub your fingers between your folds and cover your fingers in your slick. then, heart stuttering, you start to rub small, tight circles over your clit. it’s instantly too much and not enough.

she whistles low. “i like the color. suits you, compliments you nicely. a little more pressure.”

“it–”

“no back talk, baby—jesus, there’s gonna be a stain on your skirt.”

you keen at that, fingertips skimming the silicone where it plugs your hole. as if a pat will bring it back to life. she coaches you through the next several minutes, meanly cutting you off each time your breathing shifts, betraying precisely where you’re at.

“mm, fuck.” kate, wherever she is, isn’t just testing your restraint but her own. you highly doubt she’s touching herself. when she gets like this, fresh off a string of bad days, probably when shit’s gone sideways elsewhere in the world, she needs to practice control at home. with you, preferably. needs to orchestrate something that’s guaranteed, to boss someone around who isn’t going to go rogue or challenge her. a good girl, as she always calls you.

“it feels so good,” you whimper, nearing the precipice yet again. your pussy clenches around the useless toy, nub twitching under your stroking fingers. “i can’t–can’t wait to show you.”

“yeah?” she asks, drawing a deep breath. “you gonna show me the mess you made when i pick you up?”

you nod, lip swollen from biting it repeatedly.

“always so good for me, baby. maybe i ought to…” she trails and briefly sounds distant in your ear. that’s when the vibrator returns to life, making you nearly jerk off the bench and onto the ground. “keep touching yourself.”

with one hand clutching the bench and the other working your clit, your eyes close to slits, blurry with unshed tears. fuck, you are so, so close.

“that’s it. keep going. can you hold it until ten?”

“i can–i can try.”

gradually, the vibrator climbs its settings, alternating between pulsing beats and ceaseless current. the warm, thrumming pressure of an orgasm returns, gaining strength as the toy maxes out. you pinch your clit and sharply tap your cunt a few times and hear kate groan.

“remind me to figure out how to mic you up. watching how wet you are doesn’t beat hearing it.”

you laugh, strained and breathless. sweat drips down the back of your neck. “kate, can i come? please?”

she hums. “beg just a little more, puppy.”

another burst of heat, twinned with the tension drawing tight in your belly, flares beneath your skin. the vibrator’s buzzing finds that spot again as if kate has that much control over it, and it hammers insistently. you’re going to come—with or without her permission—and you know what happens if you don’t earn it first.

“please, kate. please let me come, i need it, please.”

the longest twenty or thirty seconds of your life pass.

“let’s see it.”

permission granted, you lean into it. your back arches off the bench a bit, still of a coherent enough mind to try and keep up the appearance of someone simply enjoying the evening. you stifle more moans as your orgasm climbs the last few steps, cresting then hurtling through your body in a shockwave. you whine and whimper as you come, squirming uncontrollably as kate takes her time lowering the vibrator’s settings until it’s still. the tail twitches where it hangs, your pussy pulsating as if greedily flirting with the idea of another.

“good girl. deep breaths.” she purrs, voice thick with affection. “do me a favor and leave that in for now.”

you nod, weary, and wipe your hand on your thigh. when she doesn’t scold you, you tug your skirt down, grimacing at the wet spot that immediately forms. the fabric soaks up the little puddle you left and clings to your ass as you stand. thank god for your coat.

“where are you?” you ask, scanning the water.

“heading to dock a, baby. i’ll be there in there in two minutes. can you walk alright?”

you huff and roll your eyes, risking whether or not she’s still watching. slinging your bag over a shoulder, you stretch your legs as you start for the docks. “it’s not like i got fucked fucked.”

she chuckles. “we’ll see how you feel in an hour.”

your core throbs at that promise, and you smile wickedly to yourself. a moment of silence passes as you near the water’s edge, and you see kate’s boat pulling closer.

“watcher?”

“yeah, baby?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

#kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #if this needs more tags let a fella know

249 notes · View notes

charliehoennam · 4 months ago

Text

fists of fury.

a/n: it took me a loooooong while, but i made it just for you @harmonity-vibes

pairing: billy hope x f!reader

summary: billy invites his girlfriend's ex, and stalker into the ring to squash their beef the classic boxing way

warnings: violence, stalker ex boyfriend, jealousy

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

Sweat trickles down your chest as your feet gently stomp against the treadmill. You breathe in and out, trying your best to keep your breathing under control using a technique you’d learned from your boyfriend, Billy.

From the corner of your eye, you spot the dreaded asshole you hate dealing with every single time you come to the gym: your ex, Tony.

You had dated for a couple of years and even lived together during your relationship. Although it’s been months since you broke it off with him and moved out due to incompatibility, Tony’s still been chasing you around the city relentlessly.

Most of it has been at the gym. You’ve tried everything to avoid the jerk like changing your schedule to work out at night instead of in the morning. It wasn’t enough for him to get the hint because he still showed up to work out at the same time as you.

Billy was livid when you accidently brought it up. You didn’t think too much about it, especially because you knew Tony wasn’t the kind of coward to beat on women. He didn’t scare you, just annoyed the living shit out of you.

Convincing Billy that you had it under control wasn’t easy, but he gave in when you agreed to work out with him at Tick’s gym.

The past couple weeks went as smooth as you’d hoped. You could finally work out without Tony pestering you to give him another change, making inappropriate comments on your form or spotting you against your wishes.

You felt like you could finally work out in peace. Until you saw the familiar face walking through the door. The way his eyes scan the room tells you he’s looking for you. Placing your feet on the either side of the treadmill, you stare at him in shock.

You’re not surprised that he found your new gym. Your concern is how Billy will react once he notices Tony’s entered his territory.

You look over at Billy and thankfully, he’s too busy in the ring with Tick to notice Tony’s arrival. With a heavy gulp, you stop your cardio earlier than usual and walk over to take a drink from your water bottle. Your heart races with every step. You try to tell yourself it’s just from the cardio, but you can’t ignore how cold your hands as the blood rushes away from them.

“Just keep going. Act like you don’t know he’s here” you think to yourself, shaking your hands out.

You reply to your own thought with a nod and walk over to the weights. You could keep jogging on the treadmill, but the muscle training area is closer to the ring. If you’re closer to Billy, he won’t approach. Or so you hope.

Tony knows you’ve been seeing Billy for a few months - ever since you’d met and hit it off at a charity event which you had put together for underprivileged kids – but you’d already come be very special to both Billy and Leila.

You’re certain Tony knows about Billy because you’ve told him over and over again that you’ve already moved on. He always brushed it off, assuming it was a lie or some excuse to get him to leave you alone, but he insisted that he wasn’t going to give up on you.

Trying to focus on the music that blares in your headphones, you take the time to stretch your legs out and calm yourself down. You close your eyes; focus on your breathing and the addictive rhythm of the song you’re listening to.

Once you feel your legs are ready to begin your daily lunges, you turn to walk across to get your lightweight dumbbells but instead, you’re met with a wall of muscle standing behind you.

“Fuck,” you sighed ripping your headphone off to rest them around your neck.

“I was talking to you, but I don’t think you heard me. Music’s pretty loud. That’s not good for your hearing, you know.”

“The fuck are you doing here, Tony?”

“I thought I’d come check this place out. Wanna get back into boxing, you know?”

“You haven’t boxed in years” you say with a roll of your eyes as you push past him.

“Well, never too late to go back, right? Especially when the love of my life has a thing for boxers.”

You sigh annoyed and turn your back to him to continue your work-out, but you sense him following close behind you, so you decide to stop and face him.

“First of all, I don’t fetishize boxers. Secondly, I’m not the love of your life. And third, you need to fuck off, alright? It’s been months, Tony. Move the fuck on.”

“I told you, baby. There ain’t no moving on. You’re the only one for me. There’s only you.”

He reaches for your hands, but you quickly pull them back and glance at Billy praying he hadn’t noticed, but it’s too late. His broad shoulders square as he leans over the ring’s rope. Free from the gloves, Billy lifts his water bottle to take a drink as his other hand balls into a fist. Nostrils flares angrily as his jaw clenches. He’s watching closely with a predatory and calculating stare, empty of any emotion except for rage.

“Ay, Tick. Gimme a minute, yeah?” he says apathetically.

Following his stare, Tick quickly recognizes you but not the man talking to you. Having listened to Billy’s venting the past weeks, he can only assume it’s the ex he’d been complaining about.

“Billy, take it easy. You got a match next week.”

“Nah, I got this, coach.” Tick sighs watching Billy climb out of the ring.

Usually, he would try to stop a fight from breaking out outside the ring. The only reason he doesn’t try to stop Billy is because he knows he can take Tony on and also, he’s grown to hate the scumbag just as much as Billy.

“Hey, asshat! You gonna leave my girl alone or do I gotta bash your walnut brain in ‘til you take the hint?”

The punches that normally echoes throughout the gym grow quiet. The tapping of jump ropes and clanking of weight cease. Along with the silence, tension fills the gym as all heads turn to Billy.

“Billy, he’s leaving,” you reply quickly as Billy climbs out from in between the ring’s ropes.

“Come on, baby. Don’t start nothing, please. He’s not worth it.”

Billy hears your words, but all his tunnel vision can narrow in on is Tony, who chuckles and sizes Billy up with his eyes moving up and down Billy’s body, daring him to go on.

“Yeah, you think that’s funny? Let’s see if you’re still laughing when I knock your teeth out.”

“I’d like to see you try, man” Tony smirks fearlessly.

“Billy, stop” you say trying to stand in between them to stop their arguing, but your efforts are deemed hopeless as Billy gently pushes you out of his way to step closer to Tony.

“Ay! Ain’t gonna be none of that in my gym,” Tick shouts from the ring. Tony looks over at the coach, but Billy stays locked on your ex. “You wanna settle your beef, you settle it in the ring.”

Billy nods and smirks at the man.

“C’mon. Settle this like a man. You think you’re better, right? Big and bad, stalking my girl around. Put your money where your mouth is. Or are you gonna be a little bitch about it?”

“Who you calling a bitch, man?’ Tony replies shoving Billy back. “I’ll knock your ass out.”

“Make it happen, man, I’m right here.”

You sigh running a hand over your face as Billy snarls at your ex. You know Billy is more than capable of handling himself, but it doesn’t mean you enjoy seeing him fight. You tolerate it because he loves boxing.

Matches are easier to watch because it’s just business. This fight is anything but business. You fear that Billy might get blinded by his rage. The last time that happened, his wife paid with her life.

“Billy, stop this. This is ridiculous,” you say lowly as you follow behind him as he marches towards the ring.

“Stay out of it, babe. Ain’t just about you now.”

The steeliness of his words almost feels like a warning to stand down, like your pleas aren’t going to change his mind and they’re only a waste of breath. Billy can be stubborn, but it’s a man’s world. When egos are wounded and prides are stake, nothing can change his mind.

Tick’s confirms Tony’s signed waiver as Tony gloves up in one corner. Billy stands at the opposite corner, staring the man down like a lion hunting a gazelle. His body sways as he shakes his arms to loosen up, but his head doesn’t move. His gaze stays locked in on Tony, eager to strike.

There’s a darkness to his eyes that unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You’ve seen him fight plenty of times, but this time, a cold terrifying chill runs down your spine. Your stomach drops heavily with the weight of the fear of what’s to come.

If it weren’t for the gloves, Billy’s fingers would be twitching with adrenaline. His anger towards the creep has been building up ever since you told him about Tony. His rage doesn’t simply stem from a seed of jealousy. It stems from a deeper root, one dug in the cold wet ground of his being.

He hates that a woman, his woman, can’t feel comfortable in public because this man. He hates the control over your life that that’s been stripped from due to someone who thinks he’s entitled to it.

The last time he defended his woman, he lost control. Although Tony doesn’t seem to mind Billy’s predatory gaze, after learning to channel his madness into control, Billy’s focus has never been clearer and, unbeknownst to Tony, it makes Billy that much more deadly.

You could hear a feather drop with the heavy silence in the gym. With all eyes on the ring, a bell rings and the fight begins.

Fidgeting anxiously from one foot to another, you want to look away. You don’t want to watch because you know it’s hardly a fair fight. Tony hasn’t boxed in years and Billy’s got years of experience under his many belts.

Billy puts his training with Tick into practice as the men inch towards each other. Blow after blow. Swing after swing. You watch Tony get tossed around like a rag doll. His strength to stand is still admirable, but it doesn’t long.

Once Billy’s punch sends him to the ropes, Billy loses all control. You watch, frozen by shock, as Billy is washed over by a fury unleashed like a wild dog from a cage too small.

His glove strikes Tony, square in the face, over and over again. Tick shouts at Billy, claiming the fight is over, but you doubt Billy can even hear anyone at this depth of seeing red.

Some of the experienced boxers quickly climb into the ring. One of them pull at Billy’s sweaty gray tank, desperate to separate the pair before Billy lands himself a homicide case. It isn’t until an arm locks around his head that Billy ceases his blows to Tony’s red and swollen face.

Billy tries to pull away from the men dragging him off your ex, refusing to part from him like a dog refuses to part from its hunt until it’s devoured.

As Tick and some other guys race to check on Tony and provide aid to his injuries, Billy is dragged to the locker room to calm down. You follow them, looking over your shoulder at the damage done to your ex.

“Let him go! He’s good! Just leave. Leave him alone to calm down!” you shout above the madness.

Billy paces angrily, trembling with adrenaline as the guys hesitantly follow your command. You watch him move back and forth as he spits his teeth guard out on to the floor and rips the Velcro of his glove off with his bare teeth.

“Look at me.”

He doesn’t hear you at first. Or at least, you don’t think he did though it is entirely possible that he ignored you.

“Look at me,” you repeat more firmly.

His nose flares with simmering rage as he stops in his track to turn his head, still anxiously balancing from one foot to another.

“Breathe, Billy… It’s just me here.”

Taking a deep inhale through your nose, he mimics you and releases the air through his mouth. You repeat the technique again and again, slowly approaching him like a savage and dangerous animal.

As his feet still their anxious movement and his fists begin to unball themselves, you gently lift your hands to cradle the thick sides of his sweaty tattooed neck.

He gazes into your eyes, feeling his pounding heart slowly settle in his chest.

“Come back to me, baby,” you whisper watching his healing eye blink as his pupils shift. “You with me?”

“I’m with you, baby.

#billy hope #billy hope x reader #billy hope x y/n #billy hope x you #southpaw #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal x reader

180 notes · View notes

anmolsmsblog · 2 days ago

Text

boAt BassHeads 900 Pro Wired Headphones with 40mm Drivers, Lightweight Foldable Design, Remote Control, Unidirectional Retractable Mic, Adjustable Headband & USB Type-A Compatibility(Black)

Price: (as of – Details) From the manufacturer 40mm Drivers: Plug in the boAt BassHeads 900 Pro Wired Headphones and enter the audio realm with 40 mm drivers that lend crisp audio. Be it gaming or indulging in OTT content, these headphones are your perfect audio companion.Lightweight Build: Stay comfortable wearing these headphones for long hours, courtesy of the lightweight design.Remote…

View On WordPress

0 notes

prolix-yuy · 2 years ago

Text

On the Right Flight

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Summary: A long flight with a gorgeous neighbor takes a hard turn when you get on his favorite subject - Nicholas Cage.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, allusions to sex, PiV sex, brief hint of voyeurism, lots of fantasizing, we are Looking Disrespectfully, plenty of sweetness dumped on top.

Notes: I had the worst writers block for this, but then went on a plane and remembered all the fun/not fun things about flying. Plus traveling for the holidays would be greatly improved with a dose of Javi.

I apologize for one moment and one moment only in this story. You'll know what I mean when you get there.

Cross-posted on AO3

For once, you pray to the gods of airline transportation, let there be no one in the window seat.

It’s futile, you know. It’s LA to Boston and you’ve never seen an empty seat, but you’re hoping that this one time you’ll get a little respite. You’re already fed up with having to pay extra for an emergency row seat, no other options left on the only flight that gets you to your parents in time. Then the dread of endless questions about your work (fine), love life (dismal) and future plans (???) just adds to your crankiness. It’s the holidays, you’re going home, and you could use a holiday miracle.

At least the expansive legroom is a plus.

You like LA, but no snow in December is weird. Growing up in places where snowfall is a guarantee makes you miss it all the more when towering evergreens are carted into the Grove and fake snow looks strangely post-apocalyptic against a 75 degree sunny day. It doesn’t feel right without the tip of your nose being perpetually cold and a scarf devouring you from shoulder to chin.

Plus you still have a handful of presents to get, and the anticipation of a long flight is making you antsy about your procrastination. There are still a couple days, but one present has eluded you this year and you’re getting desperate.

“Excuse me.”

A polite voice, Spanish accented, lifts over the murmurs and rumbles of the plane. Your heart sinks briefly.

“Sorry, is this your seat?” you ask, sliding your shoulder bag out of the way before getting a good look at the man waiting in the aisle.

And you do get a good look.

A long one.

Probably uncomfortably long.

But holy hell he’s gorgeous.

He definitely doesn’t belong in coach, and if the cogs in your brain could turn at all you might have asked him if he was in the right aisle, but instead you numbly stare as he steps around your knees. He nods with a tight smile, tucking his elbows and broad shoulders as he squashes into the small window seat. Against the dull beige and navy of the walls and seats he’s a cream and maroon dream, a lightweight striped jacket barely zipped over a white shirt. Tan chinos hug his thick thighs as he twists to find the seat belt, a tiny slip of his tan stomach peeking out. You look up desperately at the flight attendant, whose expression is almost as shocked as yours, before settling back into your seat.

Six and a half hours next to this golden god might actually be a Christmas miracle, but not one you’d ever dream to wish for.

You follow basic plane etiquette, pretending he isn’t there as you arrange your belongings just how you like them. Without a seat directly in front of you most of your supplies remain stuffed in your bag - a bottle of water, your iPad loaded with movies and tv shows, snacks easily in reach, headphones at the ready. You do sneak a peek at your seatmate’s luscious caramel curls, the intriguing curve of his nose, the perfect dip above his chin where pursed lips tempt.

Stop it, you scold yourself, you’re not in a goddamn Hallmark movie.

“Sorry,” comes that rich voice again, heavily apologetic as he waves to get your attention. Pretending you just noticed him - very smooth, you praise yourself - you turn and nod with your best people-pleaser smile. “I am not sure how to make all this work,” he sighs, mouth downturned and brow knitted. A wild gesture to the lack of a tray table, or entertainment display, makes you bite back a smile.

Hot and hopeless? Oh no.

“The tray is in the armrest, you have to flip it out. Same for the TV screen. The headphone jack is here,” you indicate quietly, though your elderly aisle neighbor is not paying much attention, “and you can plug in your phone here,” you add, tapping at the ports in the armrest. His face lights up, then falls when he fails to have the correct cable. You’re not normally this forward with someone you just met, but there’s something about the fish out of water routine that’s making you bold.

“Here, you can share mine, I won’t need it much for the flight,” you offer, fishing the other end of your cord out of your bag. The man’s face breaks into relief - you’ve never seen so many expressions in such a short time - before he thanks you over and over. It makes heat tingle at the tips of your ears and the back of your neck.

“You must think I am quite foolish,” he murmurs when he finally settles into his seat, wincing at the stiffness.

“Don’t fly coach much?” you ask, fighting your smirk when he throws up his hands, the gesture too big for the tiny space he’s occupying.

“Can you believe every plane was booked for two weeks? My assistant barely got me on this one!” he groans, and the tiniest part of you loves the plight of an obvious mucky-muck living like the plebeians. His face turning to you, capturing you in an intensely focused gaze, dries out your mouth.

“You are laughing,” he states, more incredulity heaped on. You can’t help the smile and snort that eke out of your unwilling mouth.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you gotta know how silly that sounds,” you say, flight attendants beginning safety demonstrations in the aisle. You lower your voice further. “My assistant had to book me in coach because it’s three days before Christmas, oh the humanity!”

For a moment you’re nervous you’ve offended him, the blank expression he pins you with making you fiddle with your fingers. Then he covers his face, a thick gold pinky ring only adding to the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You are right, I sound like the worst sort of person. My apologies, I will try to be a better seat-mate.” You shake your head, waving your hand at his apology before settling back into the seat. “I’m Javi, by the way,” he says, and you give him your name in return. He repeats it back to you, along with another few apologies, before leaning over to finish settling himself for the flight. The plane begins taxing, and the telltale rumble of the jets lulls you into closing your eyes.

Your right arm is warm, pressed against something amazingly comfortable. Considering snuggling into it, you’re shocked awake remembering you’re on a plane and you’ve accidentally slumped against the golden man - Javi’s - arm.

“Sorry,” you whisper, straightening, but he only smiles (holy shit can he get more attractive?) and shrugs.

“We are all on this plane together, what is a little touch?” he whispers back before returning to scrolling through an iPad. His is bigger, the nice pro version that’s almost the size of an actual computer. You begin to settle back into your plane nap when a hefty list of titles flash by.

“That’s a lot of Nic Cage,” you comment sotto voce, the rumble and white noise of the plane keeping your conversation relatively private. Javi looks at you blankly, one eyebrow quirked.

“He is my favorite actor,” he says, and the seriousness of this statement bleats a little laugh from your lips. This furrows his brow further, though his eyes do dart to your mouth briefly.

“Sorry, it’s not funny, it’s just…serendipity,” you say, adding more confusion to Javi’s face. You wave your hands, centering yourself.

“You celebrate Christmas?” you ask, and he nods, confused. “Okay, so every Christmas I’ve got this tradition with my sister. It all started one year when she said she didn’t like Nic Cage movies.”

“How could she dislike one of the greatest actors in film history?” Javi interrupts, now half perched in his seat and animated, hands flying. It makes you lose your train of thought, those soft brown eyes now shockingly sharp. You swallow once before continuing.

“I don’t think she hates him or anything, she just thinks he’s silly, and plays a lot of goofy roles.” At this Javi flops back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. The dramatics are making you giddy, a frenetic energy barely contained in your body as you try not to disturb the quiet travelers surrounding you.

“Has she never seen Raising Arizona? Con Air?” he interrogates, counting several more movies you didn’t even know he was in. Shrugging, you watch his face fall.

“She got through Ghost Rider and Face/Off before she called it quits,” you say, shoulders shaking at the exasperation rolling off his broad ones.

“Please don’t tell me you feel the same,” Javi pleads. You shake your head.

“He’s made some…questionable choices, but I unironically love Lord of War, and National Treasure is just fun to watch,” you say, the flight attendants starting beverage service.

“Thank goodness,” he grumbles, folding up his iPad to have enough space. The flight attendant moves to take drink orders, a professional smile following, “Something for you?”

“Champagne,” Javi says, almost off-hand, which shoots the flight attendant’s eyebrows up to his hairline. Warmed by conversation, you test a tease.

“You’re not in first class anymore, Toto, try a vodka.” Javi’s cheeks pink, but he does order a vodka soda instead. You begin to order a ginger ale when Javi interrupts.

“No no, it’s a long flight, you should have a drink too,” he says, the confused flight attendant’s eyes darting between your conversation.

“Oh no, that’s all right…”

“You drink, yes?”

“I do.”

“Then you should have a drink.”

“I, uh…”

Javi addresses the flight attendant directly, and where embarrassment radiated off him before is now confidence.

“She’ll have a drink on me,” he says definitively, and when he catches your eye there’s a sweet smile that makes your heart pound. “You should have a drink with me.”

Moments later you’re sipping on your own vodka soda and the flight attendant is giving you an approving nod as he moves on to the next row.

“So your sister does not like Nic…” Javi prompts, your story brought back to the forefront sharply.

“Yes, right! So after she told me this, I was looking for her Christmas present and found this ridiculous pillow on Amazon that I had to get her. It’s sequins, and when you brush them a certain way…”

“...you can see a photo of Nic,” Javi finishes, to your surprise. “I have the same one.”

“Get out, you do not!” you reprimand, the vodka starting to warm your blood and loosen your tongue.

“I do! It’s part of my collection.”

“You have a collection?!”

The next half hour is spent slowly sipping your drink and enjoying the hell out of Javi’s extensive Nic Cage collection, complete with photos. The wax statue is a little much, but the golden guns are pretty badass. You’re half distracted with Javi’s proximity, leaned in to flip through his photos, shoulder to shoulder. Tart orange peel and the clean musk of some expensive cologne engulfs your senses. Add the relaxing effects of the booze and you’re actively trying not to cuddle up to this stranger with an insane amount of movie memorabilia.

“But you have not told me what your sister and Nic have to do with Christmas?” Javi finally says, leaning back in his seat and finishing his drink.

“Okay, okay, so after that first Christmas it’s a tradition every year. I get her some silly Nic Cage thing, she pretends to get mad about it, and we all have a good laugh. So far it’s been the pillow, a shirt, a mug, and a really awful coloring book.” Javi shakes his head and laughs, catching the flight attendant’s eye to bring another round of drinks. You’re pretty sure that’s not how it works in coach, but Javi’s charisma gets him two nips and two glasses of ice palmed to him surreptitiously. If only you had that charm.

“So what is the gift this year? Pants? Shoelaces?” he teases, pouring your drinks.

“That’s the problem! I haven’t found it yet! I’ve looked everywhere for the perfect gift and I am coming up empty!” You slump back in your seat, accepting the second drink with a wry smile. “I’m gonna break my streak.”

“I may be able to help you with that,” Javi says with a sly little smile, looking at you over the top of his cup.

“Something out of your collection? I’m sure you’ve got some fun things in there you’re not showing me,” you say, altitude and alcohol making that come out flirtier than you expected.

“Even better. I know Nic,” he says, beginning a standoff between your incredulous face and his smug one.

“You’re joking.”

“I wrote a screenplay, he was the lead. We’re good friends.”

You have to bury your mouth in your elbow to keep from screeching like a pterodactyl.

“You’re fucking with me, really?”

“He came and stayed at my home. He’s an incredible man - talented, kind, humble, funny. I could call him up the second we land and have him record something for your sister. It would be the ultimate gift.”

You have to admit, that would be incredible. A personalized message from Nic Cage himself? Your sister would shit a brick. You would win Christmas for sure.

“And what would you want in return for being my Christmas miracle?” you ask, but Javi only shakes his head good-naturedly.

“Only the pleasure of your company,” he says breezily. You scoff at that.

“I don’t think my company is quite worth that.”

“I do.”

The air thickens around you, not daring to look up and see what expression Javi is wearing. Instead you let your finger run the circuit of your cup rim, hot flashes bursting along your collar. Your heartbeat thuds with twin thoughts - yes yes yes and not worthy.

Some air would probably do you good. You excuse yourself to the restroom and lock the door firmly behind you.

The tiny plastic sink is grounding under your hands, the hum of alcohol in your blood receding. A glance at yourself in the mirror makes you grimace - disheveled, tired eyes, rumpled loungewear that suits plane travel but not handsome strangers chatting you up. You splash a little water on your face, fortifying yourself for the return to your seat. Anyways, Javi’s out of your league, fun only because you’re trapped in a plane together. He clearly has money or comes from money, and once outside this pressurized tube you’d never be able to hold a candle to the life he has.

So stop fucking fantasizing about what you would do if he opened that door right now and joined you in this tiny bathroom. If he’d be soft and sweet, plying you with passionate kisses as he lifted you to balance on the edge of the sink. Or maybe those flashes of focus you kept glimpsing were signs of a man who would fuck you hard and fast, time a factor but attentive to your pleasure. Would he urge you to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your cries before he spills his seed on your inner thighs?

Are you fucking rhyming now?

Sighing, you open the door and run almost directly into the man himself, a sheepish smile on his face. Your face is on fire, nodding and smiling as you pass in the tiny space outside the bathroom. Returning to your seat you try to center yourself, but a tap on your arm directs you to your forgotten aisle neighbor. She smiles conspiratorially.

“He’s single,” she says simply, eyes sparkling, and you share a secret giggle at her wingmanning your chance encounter. “And he’s clearly interested, trust me. If you don’t get his number you’ll be kicking yourself later,” she adds before going back to her show. Javi returns soon after, a few wet trails in his hair and a fresh face.

“It is not so bad in coach,” he muses, pulling out his iPad and opening up his library.

“Even without the champagne?” you toss back, getting your own entertainment set up. The distance beginning to grow between you dampens your mood, fingers uncertain as they fiddle with the tech.

“Even without the champagne,” Javi sighs back with a wink. He scrolls through and settles on something before looking up at you, lips parted around a question. You wait with baited breath.

“Do you…want to watch a movie with me?” he asks tentatively. “I was going to watch a favorite of mine, if you want me to AirDrop it to you?”

Heart fluttering but trying to keep your cool, you nod. “What movie?”

“Paddington 2.”

After all the Nic Cage talk, this takes you by surprise.

“I’ve never seen it.”

Javi’s face breaks out in joy.

“Then we have to watch it.”

How could you say no to that smile?

Syncing pressing play, you both settle in to watch the children’s movie. It’s honestly really good, Javi occasionally leaning over to whisper commentary in your ear. The tickle of his breath against the baby hairs along your nape is a delicious shudder you savor.

After Paddington 2, it’s airline lunch, which Javi pokes at with an mistrusting face. You share some snacks between you as he queues up National Treasure, “the perfect movie for flying,” which leads you to debate whether that title should belong to Con Air.

It’s halfway through the movie (which still stands up after all these years) when your eyelids begin to pull, settling deeper into your uncomfortable seat. Javi peeks through his lashes, sliding a little closer.

“If you would like to close your eyes, you can lean on me,” he says with gentle hesitancy.

“Don’t want to be a bother,” you protest, a yawn interrupting further thoughts. Javi gives you that soft smile you don’t feel worthy of receiving.

“What is a little touch between friends?” he says, an echo of his previous sentiment.

Everything, you think to yourself before resting your head against his warm shoulder.

You dream of Javi between your legs in the plane bathroom, holding you tight to his chest as he fills you with his cock. He is whispering movie trivia to you, punctuating his thrusts with facts your mind can’t grip. Legs spread wide, head bumping against the mirror behind you, he pushes you higher and higher, hips snapping into your core. The door opens - Nic Cage pokes his head in, asking Javi about changes to a script. Javi pulls back to talk to him as he keeps fucking you senseless, swapping ideas as your orgasm hovers on the precipice. He turns back to your pleading face before absentmindedly licking his thumb and pressing it on your clit.

“Want to watch her cum, Nic?” he asks, your eyes rolling back in your head.

A jolt of turbulence shocks you awake, your body in unbalanced arousal from that confusing dream. A wide palm strokes along your forearm, Javi’s rumbling hum right next to your ear.

“It is okay, conejita,” he murmurs, your mind blearily taking in how far you’ve leaned on him, his hand on your arm, his mouth moving against the crown of your head. “Only a few bumps, you can sleep.”

“What’s conny…” you mumble, but close your eyes at his urging. He breathes a puff of air into your scalp.

“You twitch your nose when you’re sleeping, like a bunny,” he says, hand slowing to only his thumb caressing your skin. Humming in response, you slip back under, thankfully into a dreamless sleep.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you finally rise, neck stiff and fingers tingling. Javi’s watching something in black and white, a man and a woman having an animated conversation. Straightening up, you wipe the corner of your mouth and pray you didn’t drool.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Javi teases, “they said we should be landing in an hour.” The rapidly approaching deadline makes you wish you hadn’t passed out, even if it was the most comfortable you’ve ever been on a plane. You want to ask Javi more about himself, the life he leads, the movies he loves. But the flight attendants are making the rounds, stilling your tongue. This is only a chance meeting, nothing more.

The landing is smooth and uneventful, both of you watching the Boston skyline come into view. You ask Javi if he’s ever been before and when he responds in the negative you point out popular landmarks, the Leonard Zakim Bridge the easiest to spot.

De-boarding is always a mess, but with the extra legroom it’s easy to get your carry-on out quickly. Javi helps you get it down, pulling his own out as well. You stand and stretch your legs, admiring how Javi's shirt pulls across his back while he packs his belongings.

With nods and smiles and “thank yous” said on the way out, you’re free from the tight confines and in the open air of Logan. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels like homecoming whenever you enter the familiar airport.

“Walk you to baggage claim?” you ask, Javi’s expression blooming from uncertainty to agreement. You savor the last dregs of conversation, Javi telling you he’s visiting family friends on the Cape for a few weeks. The time to part is nearing, but you don’t know what you want to ask. For his email? His number? Could you really ask for anything?

Bags in hand and a man in a suit with a printed “Gutierrez” sign looking pointedly at Javi, you finally square up to your unlikely friend.

“Thanks for a fun flight, I can’t say I’ve had a better one,” you start, Javi waving his hands in protest.

“A pleasure for me as well.” The awkwardness mounts as Javi’s driver fidgets impatiently. Girding yourself, you speak.

“I should probably…”

“I need your number.”

Javi’s blurted out request stops your goodbye, eyes widening. His do too as he stumbles to explain, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“For the video! From Nic. For your sister. I promised, didn’t I? And you were very good company, I must keep up my side of the deal,” he rushes out, flushing high in his cheeks. You couldn’t stop beaming if you tried.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re gonna help me win Christmas for sure,” you say, typing your number into his phone. Relief dances in his eyes as you hand the phone back, sending a quick “It’s Javi” text to you. “You only have three days to get it, though, you’re on the clock.”

“Nic will come through, I know it,” he says, hands wrapping around your upper arms. He hesitates, then pulls you into a hug that blocks out the sweat and grime and frustration of the world around you. Orange peel and warmth fill your nostrils, and you hug him back, face tucking under the light scruff of his jaw. He holds you for longer than you expect but just long enough to know you’ll miss being hugged like this.

“Take care, conejita,” he says, watching you over his shoulder as he leaves. You wait for him to be out of sight before heading on your way.

Christmas morning, after all the presents are opened, coffee is drunk and cheer is spread, you pair your phone to your parent’s TV and play a video message.

“Hi Clara, this is Nic Cage. My friend Javi told me you were one of my biggest fans. Now I don’t know if you can compete with him, but if he says so I have to think it’s at least a little bit true. So to my biggest fan, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy new year, and if you’re ever nearby I owe you a photo, a handshake, and some thanks for all your support. Take care.”

Your sister is in stitches, laughing on the floor and interrogating you about how you pulled it off. For now, your lips are sealed.

The other video message, sent right after, you keep as your own Christmas present.

“I told you he would come through, conejita! Merry Christmas, I hope you are spending it with the ones you love. Maybe we will be on the same flight back to LA and I will get to see you again? Or...ah, I have no plans for New Years…and you know, it’s bad luck to start the new year without a kiss. If you…would like to be mine, this year, maybe I can take you out. Yes. I would like to take you out. Please. If you want. Okay, let me…let me know. Okay, bye.”

You would very much like that.

END

Part 2: A Bearable Weight

#javi g x f!reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javi g x female reader #javi gutierrez x you #prolix fics

1K notes · View notes