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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 5 months ago

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When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself| Maknaeline Pt3

Warnings: Mentioning of needles in a medical sense, Cursing, Mentioning of death

Pt1 Pt2 Hyungline (xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JISUNG|

The room was bright, and everyone of Jisung's senses were clouded slightly when he woke up.

"Where-"

He looked up to see Chan looking at him concerned.

"You passed out and hit your head. You've been out for a minute. You worried us."

Jisung's face scrunched as he looked at Chan. "I didn't mean to...why did I..." The events of right before his fainting spell came to him at once and Chan watched as his face slowly crumpled.

"N-No no! Jisung don't cry please! She's okay! She's okay!"

Jisung's heart rate monitor kept hiking up. "St-Stop ly-lying to me! Sh-She's gone!" He wailed- his heart rate reaching extreme levels that spurred the appearance of three nurses.

They tried to calm him down and Chan talked to a nurse about giving him something to calm him down.

A subtle sedative was injected into one of Jisung's flailing limbs and within a few minutes he was calmed down enough to be considered safe.

Chris sat by Jisung's bed as he fell in and out of sleep, the exhaustion of the past day hit him.

He looked at his phone as Minho was calling him. He looked at the boba eyes boy, who's eyes were closed in what he was assumed was sleep.

"Hello...hey...yeah we're still here, Jisung passed out...yeah...she's okay...I've been splitting my time between his room and her's...both of her femurs are fractured and she's cut up and bruised, and her arm is broken but she'll be okay...I'm trying to wait until he's calm enough to bring him over...he won't even listen to me he's that distraught..." Chris sounded tired. "I hate to them both hurting...I'm going to cancel to schedules...no one should have to work after this...maybe apply for hiatus of Jisung..." Chan stood up and looked at Jisung who was staring back at him with wide eyes. "Minho I'll call you back."

Han sat up and looked at his elder. "Y/N...Y/N? Where is she-" He swung his feet over the bed, not even flinching at the frozen floor as they connected with his bare feet.

Chris guided Jisung by the shoulder and brought him to room a few halls down, nodding politely at the ladies at the desk; silently praying they wouldn't point out that it was past the time for any types of visitors. He led him in front of your door, and knocked lightly. "She might be asleep...I have to run back to the dorms real quick to grab you a change of clothes and update the boys they're worried sick."

Jisung nodded and looked at the bags under Chris's eyes and saw how dark and droopy they were. He looked like a tired dad, and that only hurt Jisung more.

Chris gave him a hug and gave him a peck on the head. "I'll be back soon, Jisung." As he walked away Jisung immediately walked into the room. His heart dropped when he saw you laying there on the bed- legs elevate and your arms as well, your eyes closed.

He almost couldn't recognize your face at first, with the purplish bruise and large cut on your cheek.

He walked over quietly and sat down in the chair next yo your bed, just quietly weeping next to you.

Tears of joy, relief, praise, sadness, pain, and heartbreak.

God thank you. Thank you. Thanl you.

He continued to weep quietly, as he reached for your hand on your uninjured arm to hold it.

He felt calloused and scabbed skin when he put his hand in it and looked down through his tear.

His index finger traced the dark scabbed that decorated your palm, and he felt a hollow pain in his heart. Despite all the other injuries this one hurt him the most, knowing that he was the direct cause for this specific one.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked over to see the love of your life crying over you hand.

"JiJi?" Your voice was raspy, and he instead of saying anything he started placing kisses on your palm in a silent apology.

"It's okay, love. I'm okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Y/N...it's my fault."

You shook your head viciously and winced with the neck pain; mentally kicking yourself for moving at all.

"Its not your fault Jisung. You weren't the one drunk driving. Nor were to the one distracted behind the wheel. Things like this happen in life; you just have to be grateful to be the ones that get through it." You swallowed and started blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I worried you so much-" You croaked. "Channie said you fainted and hit your head? Are you okay?" Your voice was heartbreakingly warm, and Jisung couldn't fathom why you were so kind to him at a time like this. When you were hurting so much physically, mentally and emotionally; you were still concerned about him.

He kissed your palm again and let out a shaky breath. "Stay with me."

You give out a small chuckle, but it hurts your chest so you decide just to smile.

"Sungie...I can't even walk." You joked. "My femurs are pretty messed up right now." Jisung continued to gently hold your hand as if it was something priceless; something extremely fragile and breakable. He rested his forehead against is and murmured.

"Then when you can walk again, don't leave. Stay. Cling to me. Walk towards me instead of away."

You smile. "Walk towards you dressed in white?" You joked.

"Yes." He said with 1000% seriousness in his voice. "I thought I lost you. That was a pain that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. If I ever lose you again...I don't know how I would deal with it...if I could...especially if I knew you left by choice..."

You felt your heart thump at a faster rate and cursed it quietly since it would bring the inevitable visit of a concerned nurse.

"I'm sorry. I truly am." He said, his eyes looking at you. They softly traced all the injuries, all though none of them compared to what he was feeling in his heart, what you were feeling in yours.

"I love you." You said quietly, those three simple words filled with so much that it quelled the negative feelings that were churning in his heart.

And even though he knew it wouldn't be something he could ever truly forgive himself for - even if you did - he was selfish enough to push that aside if it meant that he could be with you.

If it meant you would stay with him.

He kissed your palm once more, before laying his head near yours. His nose gently nuzzling your face.

"I love you more."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

FELIX|

When Felix walked into your home, he wasn't expecting you to be there.

But what he defintely was not expecting at all was you struggling to put together a new gaming station for him, looking at a super complicated instruction sheet for a chair and while sitting next to a bag filled with other electronics.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You turned as the rich and deep voice you loved so much reached your ears. It had been days since you had gotten to hear it.

"It-It was supposed to be a surprise." You said standing up, bracing yourself for him to yell at you, or scold you. "I'm sor-"

You almost had the wind knocked out of you as Felix threw himself into your arms, inhaling deeply.

You hugged him back, feeling just how much he needed it.

His breathing was shaking as you heard him apologize quietly.

He reached for your hands to see if they were red from cleaning so much.

"I'm sorry baby. But sorry doesn't fix it. So what can I do-"

"I love you." You said. "I understand you were angry...it's understandable. So I went to go fix it!"

You pulled away and Felix was in disbelief of how positive and sunshiny you were. He would consider you even more like sunshine than he was.

And with that he felt and overwhelming sense of love and appreciation to the one in front of him, as he watched you explain to him what you had been doing the past few days (odd freelance work for extra money) and how you had went to buy him replacements for all the things you had ruined by accident.

"I thought you'd like this one cause it was blue but I'm not sure..." You mumbled. "It wasn't as expensive as you last one so I'm sorry if it-"

You looked up to see Felix crying with a smile on his face as he bent down to look at you while you knelt on the ground organizing pieces.

"Lix, are you okay?"

He nodded, his freckles scrunching up as he smiled even more, reaching to cup you face with his cool hands.

"I'm more than okay, Y/N." He said. "More than okay."

You looked at him with wide eyes and he couldn't help but plant a bunch of kisses on your face as a musical giggle escaped the lips he soon captured in his own.

You looked up at him as he rolled over onto the ground next to you, grasping your hand in his.

"I bought replacements angel..." He said, a smile playing on his face. "So now that we have two... we can take my old PC from storage and I can teach you how to play...?"

You looked at him. "But isn't gaming time your you time? I thought thats why you were so upset, since I had ruined something that was giving you detox time..."

He shook his head. "I had gotten into an argument with Hyunjin..." He said rubbing his thumb across your hand. "And I didn't manage my anger well towards you. I'm sorry, again."

He turned to face you while resting on his elbow.

"You're too good you know?" He murmured quietly, moving a few strands of hair out of your face.

"Lixxie...you're entire fandom call you sunshine..." You say, feeling your face heat up.

"Well that's because they don't know you well enough. But once they do they'll realize that you're the true sunshine in the Stray Kids world. Since you're my world..." He said leaning over again, resting his elbows on either side of you as he connected his lips to yours again; both sets upturned into a smile.

"I could never be mad you love...how would it even be possible?" He asked as he continued to press his lips against your face in a cute, but chaste manner. "It is impossible."

You giggled as he blew raspberries on you and you got up and looked at the boy you loved so much, knowing that you meant just as much to him as he did to you.

And you knew that you could rest assured that you would be okay no matter what.

"Do you want to play games...or cuddle?" Felix asked, pulling you up, already reaching for the blanket you kept draped over your desk chair; knowing your answer would be exactly what he was hoping it would be.

"Cuddles." You said clinging to him. Intending to do that for the rest of the night.

And Felix intended to make sure you kept true to that promise.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

SEUNGMIN|

The crowd was static with a murmured excitement. The result of hundred of Stays conversing just before the group walked on stage.

You made your way to the front of the arena. After selling the ticket you had intended to use to get back at Seungmin; you had made quite a bit of money from the upsale and the desire of some crazed stan.

And you put that money towards flying across the world, to come to this concert, and surprise him.

Hopefully easing the growing rumors but mostly easing his heart.

You called the Kids manager, asking to get you in closer to the front, and was praying that Seungmin would be able to spot you. Or a fan would spot you and it would spark the little "Where's Waldo" game that would get back to him - or more importantly the camera men.

You just wanted Seungmin to be assured you weren't leaving him.

Rather you hoped after tonight it would be the complete opposite.

As security pushed their way through the crowd with you encircled in them people tried to peak through to see you.

When a few curious eyes met yours you waved, and those eyes widened in the ones who recognized you.

It was almost like they were relieved.

And just with that you could tell how much the fandom cared about the boy.

Almost as much as you cared about them while knowing all of them on a personal friend level. And an even more intimate level with Seungmin.

The crowd buzzed with energy up until the moments to boys ran out on stage. You were close enough to see just how tired Seungmin was; but he still put on a smile.

There was almost know build up as they immediately started performing, Seungmin on the complete opposite side of the stage. The crowd was extremely loud- so yelling out to the closet member to you - Hyunjin - wasn't going to do you any good, even if he could easily recognize the voice of one of his closest friends' significant others; he wouldn't be able to hear it over the sea of others voices and screams.

So you decided to head back towards the dressing room.

Seungmin returned to his dressing room after the show, his heart racing with excitement after the show. But he still had that underlying hurt.

Should I call her? I miss her so much I'm imagining her perfume...

He stopped and turned his nose upwards. Y/N?

He rushed into his dressing room and saw you standing up, folding one of his shirts.

He immediately ran into your arms, burying his head into your hair, a wet spot forming on the crown of your head.

"Baby...are you really here?" He whispered, the vibration of his voice tickling you slightly.

You nod and pull back; feeling a bit proud to straight out apologize so instead get to what you came here for.

He looked at you as you squared your shoulders and adjusted your dress so it covered you properly as you knelt down onto the ground.

"Jagiya...?" He said instinctively kneeling down with you reaching for you, but instead you motioned for him to stay standing.

He looked at you with confusion, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck to his exposed collar bone, making you even more nervous than you were a second ago.

You pulled a small box out of the pocket in your dress and noticed Seungmin's puppy eyes widening as you held it out to him with a shaky hand.

"Marry me, MinMin?"

His jaw twitched and he just stared at you in shock and you fumbled to open up the box, a simple deep gray colored band laying in there.

"Um...I mean will you marry me? Please...?" You rubbed your forehead feeling your face get warm at Seungmin's extended silence.

"No." You felt your heart nearly crumple in embarrassment until he corrected himself.

"I mean yes- like no as is in you - like - yes I want to marry you but- just get up from the floor Jagiya..."

You stood up and you held the box in your hands, and they were still trembling, and he wrapped his large hands around yours.

"I meant no as a reaction to you proposing instead of me. I wanted propose to you. I mean...I'm the man in the relationship and-"

"I'm breaking societal norms, Minnie. If we both love each other why does it matter?" You ask bluntly, earning a laugh from Seungmin.

"And I'm proud of you for that, even if it'll earn me relentless teasing from the guys." He laughed out, a few tears falling from his face in happiness, as he rested his forehead onto yours.

"These past few weeks," Seungmin started, "Have made me realize that it's me who is clingy to you." He says, kissing your nose, lightly. "I felt that I lost myself when the prospect of losing you was in front of me."

You looked at him and knew this was his apology.

"I don't want to leave you. And I don't ever want you to leave me. That's why I got this for you." You said taking the ring out. Seungmin pulled back and stepped into character, placing a hand over his mouth in mock shock and daintily putting his hand out for you to slide the ring onto his finger.

He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face as he watched your face be completely painted in a blinding happiness. He couldn't help but kiss the lips that were stretched so wide.

"Do I have permission to break the news to Stay via instagram post?" He hums. "They've been suspecting we broke up due to your concert absences..." He looked at you, his eyes wide and bright.

"Yes of course, as long as you tell the guys in person. I want to see their reaction. I'm sure both Stay and the guys will be amused that I proposed." You winked.

"Yeah," Seungmin chuckled as he looked at the ring with a deep admiration and love. "They will be...speaking of this though. You must have paid an unecessary fortune for flying here, buying the ticket, hotel stay...and you request off work during concert season so you aren't getting paid. Where did you get the money? If it was from your saving let me fill it up again." His top lip curled in as he waited for your answer.

"Uh...you could say I made a profit of sorts..." You mumbled, thinking about the slightly illegal act of scalping the ticket price.

Your fiancé tilted his head to the side, waiting for an explanation, but the deciding to forgo it with a chuckle and just kiss the woman he loved and missed so much. The one he'd spend the rest of his life clinging to.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JEONGIN|

You stood there the needle in your hand as Jeongin slowly walked towards you.

"Y/N? What are you...?"

You disposed the needle and adjusted your shorts to cover up your thigh.

"I was taking insulin." You said walking past him out of the bathroom, to go grab a paper towel since the towel in your bathroom was in the wash.

You felt the presence of your boyfriend behind you.

And you could instantly tell he felt bad, so you turned to him, his dark eyes wandering over you as his lips turned into his recognizable pout.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Innie..." You said standing there. "It wasn't right for me to ignore your calls. Or blow up your phone in the first pla-"

"Stop." His voice was firm and missing the playful undertone it almost always had. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me."

He swallowed. "I was embarrassed because of the guys and their teasing. And I called you childish when it was really me who was being childish for caring so much about people recognizing how much we love each other. How much you love me..." He's within arms length and you can feel his cool breath hit your face. "How much I love you. I'm sorry."

For the rest of the day you and Jeongin lounged around your house, him taking a nap on you lap at one point due to the pent-up exhaustion of the previous week.

You had shake him awake gently when you realized it was time for you to inject youself once more since you had finished eating a while ago but pushed off medicating yourself so Jeongin could get some rest.

He opened his eyes and whined as he shut them again, burrowing further into you.

"Baby, I have to get up and take my medicine."

He immediately shot up and the expectant yet worried look on his faced caused you to grin.

"Do you wanna help?" His head bobbed up and down as you got up, pulling the mischievous eyed boy with you towards the bathroom.

As you got everything, he observed with a bubbling anxiety.

"You won't like...die from this or anything right?" His voice was soft, lacking the confidence it usually carried.

"No, Jeongin, I won't die from my diabetes." You laugh. "Do you think I would let it take me before I get married and have kids, and grandkids and live." You say this purposefully to hint to Jeongin that it was him you imagined this with. Hoping it solidified his assurance in your forgiveness; since he had been asking all day if he was truly forgiven.

As if its his fault I have diabetes... You laughed to yourself.

You placed the glucometer in his hand and held out the container of strips.

"Just place that in there." You instruct softly, and he does so showing it to you to double check.

"Okay, so now we have to put the lancet in...here..." You say, your boyfriend focusing on placing it in correctly.

He takes your hand in his and when he presses the button to prick you he winces rather than you.

"Are you okay?!" He frets, looking at the extremely miniscule - too miniscule - drop of blood on your ring finger.

"Mm. Squeeze a little more out?"

He gently squuezed enough blood out of your hand and tested you blood sugar - then measuring out the appropriate amount of insulin and pulling your shorts up slightly to give you your injection with gentle hands after cleaning the area.

You watched him focus on the task at hand so seriously; his brows furrowed, and tongue sticking out of his lip slightly. He was so close you could smell his shampoos and count his eyelashes if you wanted to. You felt a strange longing for him even though he was right here. You missed him even if his body was right here next to, gently making sure he didn't leave any marks.

And you couldn't deny how much you loved him. So much that you had to express it.

"I love you forever, Innie..." Through his lashes he studied your expression. Feeling the love exude from you.

"I love you, forever and even longer." He said, his face breaking out into a smile. "My beautiful princess."

You laugh and that causes Innie to laugh as well.

"You're too sweet, love." You said placing a kiss under his eye.

"Does that mean I need to get you another dose of insulin?" He asked, looking up at you with a devilish grin.

This time you place the kiss on his lips his eyelashes fluttering shut as he sighed with contenment.

"I think I can manage."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

@sleeping143 @artist2181 @abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jaythegay26 @gay-littlemushroomlover @armystay89 @sara6767776 @wildtokay

@kyrennetwork @stay-tiny-things

@piscesrising01 @0325tiny @hannamoon143

@chimchxmni @ka0ila @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

#skz imagines #skz x reader #skz angst #skz stay #skz seungmin #skz jeongin #skz jisung #skz felix #seungmin angst #han angst #jeongin angst #felix angst

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whatsnewalycat · 9 months ago

Text

RUTHLESS

Stepdad Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 5.1k+

Warnings: DDDNE, literally just a fucked up stepdad/mom's bf fantasy, could read "mom" as tess but I don't name her or assign physical features to her or reader, post-outbreak, reader is def over 18 but not by much so yeah age gap, NON-CONSENSUAL, power imbalance, unethical d/s dynamic, slapping, spanking, punishment, orgasm delay/denial, humiliation, degradation, face fucking, anal sex, little to no aftercare

A/N: Category is "That old man would fucking never... but if he did..." Please be mindful of the warnings and don't read if it might trigger you. Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

------

Within the secluded world of your big noise-canceling headphones, you scan through silence on the CB radio, pausing for a few seconds on each channel before moving on to the next.

Channel 11: Nothing.

Channel 12: Zilch.

Channel 13: Nada.

When you turn the dial to channel 14, though, you pick up chatter and start transcribing.

Channel 14 7/17/22 19:56

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew? Over.

Got enough for the kids? Over.

And leftovers. Over.

I’ll be at Margie’s around supper time. Over and out.

The air goes silent.

After a minute goes by with no follow up transmissions, you glance at the clock. 7:58. Almost time for check-in.

You tune the radio to channel 32 and review your transcription.

Many people speak in code, encrypting their messages in seemingly benign conversations. To the untrained ear, they’re normal exchanges, people making small talk about jobs and rations and kids. Goodnight calls and check-ins that use predictable inquiries to convey messages.

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew?

Most of it you can translate from memory. The drug traffickers that use channel 14 have frequented the same lingo for years. Likely because of the high turnover rate of personnel. There’s less confusion that way. Confusion in communication raises more alarm bells for eavesdroppers than using the same code words across the board.

You flip through your cipher for channel 14, searching for budaydas, but find nothing. Scrunching your nose up, you say the word out loud, “Budaydas. Buh-day-das.”

Carrots, onions, budaydas in a stew.

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, then jot down your translation, muttering under your breath, “Fucking Boston accents.”

(Someone) picked up tranquilizers, benzos (budaydas = potatoes), and opioids. The caller wants to meet up and trade as previously agreed.

The rest of it is easy enough to interpret without the use of a cipher. You probably don’t need to write down the translation, but do it in case your mom or Joel need to reference the notes at a later date.

There’s enough to distribute product across their network of dealers in Boston QZ, plus more to stockpile. They’ll meet at their hub in Area 1, Margaret St, at midnight.

You exhale through slack lips, glancing at the clock as it ticks over to 8:00, then pick up the microphone and hold down the speak button.

“Radio check.”

A few seconds go by before you hear a familiar gruff voice crackle over the radio waves into your ears, “Loud and clear. Over.”

Your nostrils flare when you hear him. Joel Miller. The bane of your existence. Your de facto stepfather, only because you don’t really remember life without him by your mom’s side.

This isn’t to say he’s a father figure to you by any means. The two of you never shared the kind of heartwarming paternal bonding moments you read about in books. That would require warmth and vulnerability, which he distinctly lacks.

Once, when you were maybe 11 or 12, you made the mistake of calling him Dad. The way he looked at you made you feel like dirt. Fire burning behind his dark eyes, he corrected you with one stern syllable that taught you your place: “Joel.”

You sit up straighter and take a moment to gather yourself before responding.

“Did you get your message from Uncle Paul? Over.”

“I did. Over.”

“How’s the weather in Kansas City? Over.”

“Cloudy. Over.”

Fuck.

You swallow around nothing, then clear your throat and ask, “And Grandma, how’s she? Over.”

“Fine, just busy is all.”

You exhale a sigh of relief that melts the tension between your shoulders. Joel continues.

“Anything new with you? Over.”

Tapping your fingers on your notes, you answer, “Rumor has it the market is gonna be busy tomorrow. Harvesting time, I guess. Other than that, same old same old. What about you? Staying out of trouble? Over.”

It feels strange, having a casual conversation with him like this. Even if it’s just a data exchange dressed up as a casual conversation.

There’s a long pause, then he says, “Fine, yeah. Well. See you soon. Over ‘n’ out.”

Stiff as a board. Cold as ice. Joel Miller, everyone. Round of applause.

You snort, rolling your eyes as you unplug the headphones and toss them on the table. It takes a moment for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings.

The dingy two-bedroom apartment is quiet and still. Outside, the setting sun casts the world in a dark golden haze. A FEDRA patrol vehicle roars down the street, broadcasting the curfew alert from a loudspeaker. Faint shouting from a few units down momentarily piques your curiosity before you decide it’s none of your business.

You stand from the chair and reach your hands above your head, lungs expanding in a powerful yawn, then take a lap around the apartment to stretch your legs.

Something catches your eye when you walk by the entry. A note slipped under the doorframe. On the outer fold, your name is written in a familiar scrawl.

Your heart skips a beat.

You pick it up and unfold the paper, revealing an invitation.

I miss you. Come over when you’re done surfing the airwaves. XO, Bert.

Warmth trickles down between your thighs. A smile spreads across your face. You glance up at the door, then to the CB radio and scanner on the desk.

Indecision churns in your belly.

You are explicitly forbidden from leaving the apartment while your mom and Joel are out on runs. A safety precaution you’ve protested dozens of times to no avail. They expect you to stay put and warn them if you notice any signs of potential danger. In return, you receive a cut of the profit and a roof over your head. Security, in short. Which is more than most could say.

That being said… You break this rule from time to time, when the circumstances allow.

Like when the Fireflies and FEDRA have been quiet for weeks and there are no smoke signals in sight. Like when you’re five nights into a seven day seclusion and think you might die of boredom if you don’t get the fuck out of here. Like when your boyfriend slips a note under the door and asks you to come over.

You look down at the paper in your hands, re-reading the words I miss you.

Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen?

—

Just before midnight, you wander down the hallway to your unit, jelly knees wobbling with each step. As you absentmindedly trace your tingling lips, still puffy from kissing, you unlock the door and push it open, then frown.

The lights are on.

They were off when you left, you’re sure of it. When you step further into the apartment, your foot catches on something. A backpack. This faint buzzing starts behind your ears as you blink at it, wishing it would go away.

Motherfu—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when you hear his voice. A thick knot of panic tightens around your windpipe as you look up to find Joel standing just a few paces away in the living room.

He stares you down, dark eyes glowing with fury, and questions you again, “Where were you?”

“N-nowhere.”

The blatant lie sits sour on your tongue. His lips purse, so you fumble out another, “I went for a walk.”

“A walk,” he repeats, tone disbelieving, “You went on a walk after curfew wearing that?”

You look down at your clothing. A short skirt and tank top. Your throat bobs in a guilty gulp, then you meet his eyes again and nod.

“And when did you leave on this ‘walk?’”

Your mind whirs as you try to come up with an answer. It feels like a trap. You try to calculate an answer that will provide minimal blowback.

“I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes ago?”

“Try again.”

The electricity humming through you takes on a red, frustrated edge, and you snip, “I don’t fucking know, dude. It was a while ago, I wasn’t paying attention. Where’s my mom?”

“Your mom sent me here to make sure you were alive,” he says pointedly, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, “We’ve been tryin’a reach you for three hours. I got here an hour ago. That’s a helluva lot longer than twenty minutes, ain’t it?”

Shrinking into yourself, you search his face. Jaw set, eyes boring into yours. Waves of anger roll off him as he approaches, and you remember all those rumors you heard about him on the radio. The fear you heard in grown men’s voices when they recounted run-ins with that bitch and her guard dog.

You remember what Bert said about him: He’s fucking ruthless.

“You aren’t supposed to leave the apartment when we’re outside the QZ.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you?”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage.

Joel has never directed this kind of outright anger towards you. Sternness, sure. Contempt, maybe. But this is different. You’re in fucking trouble.

There has to be a way out of this conversation.

You drop your gaze to the floor and ask, “Is my mom ok? Did something happen to her?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Righteous indignation straightens your spine and wills you to meet his eyes again, “I’m not saying shit until you tell me what happened to her.”

“She sprained her ankle, but she’s fine. She’s safe,” he tells you, then takes another step forward, “Why did you leave?”

You respond by rolling your eyes.

“Answer the question.”

With an irritated sigh, you search his face, then tell him, “You don’t know what it’s like to be here. Isolated for days or weeks at a time. I fucking hate it. It’s so lonely and boring, I feel like I’m losing my mind—”

“Oh, cry me a goddamn river.”

You scowl at him, staring him down, “Fuck you.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, you disrespectful little shit.”

Red flashes through your field of vision, hot and angry and defiant. You gather the moisture in your mouth on your tongue and spit at him. It splats on his cheek.

His face twists up with fury for one second before he charges, closing the distance between you. The impact pushes your back to the door with a thud.

He grabs your jaw, fingers digging hard into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes are hot coals, burning into you. The muscles in his jaw twitch, nostrils flaring, breath shaky.

When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what it’s like out there.”

“No, because you won’t let me fucking leave—”

“You should be fucking grateful, you know that? Being here is a fucking cake walk. Your mom ‘n’ I have seen things, done things—horrible things you couldn’t even imagine,” he husks, searching your face, grip tightening so hard it makes you whine. “We keep you safe, and all we ask is that you stay put and keep a lookout for us when we’re gone.”

Even if you wanted to respond, you can’t. The vice grip he has on your face renders your mouth immobile.

All you can do is stare back at him, studying his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Full lips pinched thin as he glowers at you.

You notice how close his broad body is to yours. The heat radiating off his tightly-wound muscles onto your skin. His ragged breath scatters across your face and wafts into your open mouth. You taste the bootleg whiskey on his breath and your pulse jumps.

Warmth drips down your spine and pools at the center of you, a horrifying sensation that makes you squirm.

“Were you with your little boyfriend? Hmm?” he asks, eyes darting around your face, trailing down to your body for a moment before returning, “That boy downstairs? Figure you musta been, on account of how you’re dressed.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not really a question.

“Abandoning your post to go out and get fucked, is that it?”

A whimper slips from your throat as heat swells beneath your skin.

He wouldn’t be treating you like this if your mom was here. He wouldn’t say these things or be this close to you. Knowing this, you understand that whatever is happening right now is wrong.

You also understand that you like it.

You hate that you like it, and hate him for making you like it, but you like it all the same.

Letting go of your face, he demands, “Answer me.”

“Fuck you.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, you feel a sharp, hot sting on your cheek and yelp.

He fucking slapped you.

“Wrong answer.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you retort, bringing your hand to the welt forming on your cheek, “I’m gonna tell her.”

“Yeah? You gonna tell her I found you sneaking in at midnight, too? That you compromised our safety to go out ‘n’ get dicked down?”

You harden your gaze on him, lips pressing together with disdain.

“She wouldn’t like that, would she?” he asks, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “She’d probably kick you out on your ass.”

“She wouldn’t. You guys need me.”

“And you need us,” he counters, searching your face, “So what do we do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Hmm?”

A dozen inappropriate images flash through your head, each more lurid than the last. An electric, tingling feeling shoots out from the base of your spine and works through your extremities.

You swallow hard and shake your head, “I won’t do it again.”

“If I don’t punish you, you will. You’re fucking disrespectful. Selfish. You need discipline.”

Again, a flash of frustration taints the world red. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scoff, “Just because you’re fucking my mom doesn’t mean you’re my dad. I am an adult and you are not the boss of me.”

He sighs and takes a step back, planting his hands on his hips. His gaze drifts around the empty apartment, jaw gnashing back and forth for a moment before he returns to twist the deadbolt closed and grab your arm.

“What the f—” you swat at him and dig your heels into the floor, but it does nothing as he drags you by his steel grip, pulling you stumbling along behind him into the living room.

He sits on the couch and forces you to lay over his bent knees, one big hand securing your wrists behind your back while the other flattens against the swell of your ass cheek. As soon his touch leaves, it returns, a sharp snap tingling across your skin.

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe the chaos throbbing through you.

“You’re right, you’re an adult. And I’m not your dad,” he asserts, lifting his hand. Your whole body clenches in anticipation. “But as long as you live here, I am the fucking boss of you,” he slaps your ass again, “Do you understand me?”

It surprises you when you hear yourself sob, “I’m sorry—”

He does it again and again, hissing, “Yeah, you’re fucking sorry now, aren’t you?”

Each firm slap he lays down is firm, unflinching. Ruthless.

It overwhelms your senses and becomes the only thing you feel. The universe world narrows down to just his palm on your skin. The reliable and exquisite pain ringing through you. Smack. Smack. Smack.

Every time he draws his hand back, you don’t think you can handle it again. But you do.

Soon, you start to crave the impact. His skin on your skin. You can’t feel the start or end of it. It’s just him and you. Pain and pleasure. Sobs and moans, all blended together.

Far away, you hear him chide you for not wearing underwear beneath your skirt. Then he asks, “Are you fucking enjoying this?”

Too ashamed to admit it, all you do is whimper in response.

Smack.

He sucks in breath through his teeth, then grabs the meat of your ass and rumbles, “You do, don’t you?”

When his grasp on your wrists releases, you pull your elbows beneath you and look over your shoulder at him, watching as he spreads your cheeks apart and stares down between your legs. You’re probably shiny and wet with the evidence of your desire.

His lips form an ‘o’ when he kneads you back together and spreads you apart again. The motion teases all your hungry nerves and makes you moan. It feels so fucking good.

You realize then that he’s grown stiff against your belly, hard cock leaving no mistake.

“You fucking like it, too, don’t you?” you ask him, your voice breathy and amused, “I can feel how turned on you are.”

Slipping a hand between your bodies, you press against his strained zipper. His cock jumps at the contact, and he groans, dragging his fingers through your slick lips.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you nod in approval. He works your clit in steady, firm circles while you smooth your hand along the big bulge in his pants, letting out a string of whines at the bubbling pleasure inside you.

You lose yourselves here, both of you squirming and panting and petting the other. So wrapped up with how fucking good it feels that you forget to feel ashamed.

When he smacks your ass now, you croak through clenched teeth, “Fuck yes.”

He likes that you like it. You can tell by the way he groans and throbs beneath you. This knowledge inspires your pulse to pound and your muscles to tense.

“Joel,“ you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his heavy-lidded gaze, “I’m gonna fucking come, don’t stop—”

“Did I give you permission to do that?” he asks, slowing his touch to a torturous rhythm, “Did I say you could come?”

You shake your head and whine, “Please, Joel, please—”

“Are you sorry for what you did?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“No no no, I won’t, I promise, I’ll be a good girl—”

He groans, tossing his head back as you frantically rub at the bulge in his pants. Your palm chafes against the stiff denim, but you don’t stop. You would do this for eternity if it meant he’d let you find your release.

“Oh yeah, you’ll be a good fucking girl for me?” he asks, touching you just soft and slow enough to twist your nerves ragged, but keep your orgasm out of reach.

“I will, I promise. Please, Joel,” you whisper, holding his gaze as your face gets all hot, “Please make me come, please please—”

“Show me you mean it.”

He doesn’t need to explain what he means. While he takes off his jeans, you scramble off his lap and kneel between his spread knees. His eyes stay glued to yours as you slide your hands up his thighs.

Batting your lashes at him, you wrap your lips around his swollen cock. He fills your mouth. He feels smooth but hard against your tongue. He tastes salty and heady and when you inhale the musk of him, you moan around his girth.

Nodding, he anchors his grip behind your head and bucks his hips, forcing his dick down your throat. When you gag, he doesn’t let up, but thrusts into the sensation, grunting, “Fuck. Yes,” before letting you pull off, gasping for air.

You wrap your hands around him, all shiny and slick with drool, and pump his length for a moment while you catch your breath, then take him in your mouth again.

This time, you sit up taller. You relish the stretch of your lips as you bob up and down. Savor the tug of his fingers curled tight in your hair. Memorize the sound of his huffs and grunts as he fucks your face. The wet squelching gurgle of his cock squeezing down your windpipe.

“Look at me,” he orders, so you do.

He’s all blurred from your watering eyes, but you can make out the dark irises and stay locked onto them while relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him easier. When you make an enthusiastic humming noise, he groans. It’s wanton and lusty and lights a fire in your belly.

Joel has never treated you this hard or soft. His regard for you has always been callous. Closed-off. Indifferent. With your assistance on the radio, he treated you like a tool for survival. Before that, or even in-between smuggling runs, he treated you like some kind of a household pet he had little regard for. Your mom’s responsibility, never his.

For years and years, you ached for more.

When you were younger, you used to sit up nights and wonder if he’d ever consider you his daughter. He wouldn’t, though. He won’t.

But this is something.

Distinctly, you want to please him. Be the best he ever had. You want to sink your claws into his brain and leave your mark for years to come. You want him to look at you after this and feel a flicker of desire and self-loathing. You want him to think of you when he fucks your mom. You want him to hate how you made him feel.

When you pull off him and start to work his soaked length with your hands, you pant, “Does that feel good? Am I doing a good job sucking your cock?”

“It’s good,” he nods, lets out a groan that pinches his eyes shut, then meets your gaze again, “So fucking good, Jesus Christ. Is this what you were out doing tonight? Sucking cock?”

“Not tonight.”

“But he fucked you, didn’t he? That boy?”

You nod, stroking him slower. His eyelids flutter.

“Did he fuck your pussy or your ass?”

The question sends a jolt through your middle. You recall the sex you had with Bert. Barely an hour has gone by since he pulled out of your cunt to shoot his load on the mattress, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

“My pussy,” you answer, then gather a thick, hot wad of saliva on your tongue and spit on his cock. You spread it with a slow churning motion, watching Joel’s face twist up with pleasure.

“Were you bein’ smart about it at least?” he asks, studying you, “We don’t need you getting knocked up.”

“He pulled out,” you shrug.

He grunts in acknowledgment, then sits up and pulls on your arm to join him on the couch, “C’mere.”

You follow his guidance, lying back on the cushions as he strips off his shirt.

The only times you’ve seen him shirtless were accidental and slightly embarrassing for both of you. But now, you notice how his smooth chest glows in the dim light. Now, when you drink in the sight of his big arms and broad shoulders, heat bubbles up your spine.

While you pull your tank top off over your head, he tugs your skirt down your thighs, asking, “You ever taken it up the ass?”

You shake your head.

His eyebrows jump a little like he’s surprised. A sadistic kind of smirk plays across his lips as he pushes your knees up to your chest, then spreads you apart, the head of him nudging at your backdoor.

He doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t ask if you want it this way, or if you want him to be the first. He doesn’t even warn you about the initial shock and pain you experience when he rocks his hips forward and breaches the tight hole.

You yelp and try to lurch away from the sharp pain, but he grabs you and holds you there.

Sitting up on your elbows, you cry, “That fucking hurts, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if it didn’t hurt a little, would it?” he murmurs, disinterested, watching your asshole stretch to accommodate the head of his cock.

The sensation is overwhelming. Like being stabbed or split open. At first, you hate it. You sputter and gasp and shake your head as he pushes himself in further and further.

Then he pauses the invasion, releasing his steel grip on you to tilt your chin up and meet his gaze, “Just relax.”

His eyes burn into yours, making your pulse jump. You bear witness to his heaving chest and parted lips and feel him twitch inside you. Sparks sizzle across your body, but you still scowl at him.

“It hurts, I don’t like it.“

“It’ll get better, you just gotta relax,” he coaches.

“Why can’t we just have normal sex?”

He grunts, thinks about it for a moment, then tells you, “First off, this is not normal sex,” he points between your chest and his, “This will not be a normal thing, you understand?”

It stings a little, if you’re being honest. But you nod, “I understand.”

Nodding, he licks his lips. He throbs inside you, hips jerking a little in reaction. This time, the friction feels good enough to make you whimper.

“Second, we don’t need another mouth to feed around here,” he says, searching your face, “We’re stretched thin enough as is. You know what I mean?”

“But if you—”

“Pulling out can still stick. This way’s tried and true, trust me.”

“Trust you,” you scoff under your breath and roll your eyes.

“What’s that?”

You meet his hardened gaze, feeling emboldened enough to ask, “Do you fuck my mom in the ass?”

“That’s none of your business,” he warns.

“So, what, you can interrogate me about my sex life, but I can’t do the same?”

“That’s right,” he barks, “Know why?”

In response, you glare at him.

He takes this moment of bitter silence to drag his knuckles up your slick, swollen lips. The light touch branches out beneath your skin and makes your heart pound. You gasp a little, but try to hide it. He clocks it immediately.

“There we go,” he murmurs under his breath, almost as an aside, smoothing the pad of his thumb in soft circles on your clit. Pleasure churns beneath the touch, hot and hungry for more. When you whimper, Joel’s eyes go wild for a second, then he says, “I am the fucking boss of you, understand?”

You swallow a moan as he arches forward and starts to roll his hips. It feels better now. Good. Fucking amazing, almost. Electric and gooey. He fills you so completely with each thrust, you wonder how you can even breathe.

“So if I tell you to be home, that’s where you’ll be. If I ask you where you’ve been, who you were with, what you were doing—you tell me the truth. Understand?”

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand.”

“You don’t get to ask me about your mom. You don’t tell your mom. You don’t sneak out to go get fucked by some boy who doesn’t even know what to do with you—”

“Holy shit, Joel I’m gonna—” you gasp at the pressure building at the base of your spine, spreading thick and hot and delicious across your body.

“And you don’t come without my fucking permission. Understand?”

“I understand I understand,” you cry, literal tears burning behind your eyes at the ache of trying to keep the ecstasy at bay, “Please can I come, please please please—”

“Are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again—”

“That’s right, you’ll never fucking do it again. Why’s that?”

“You’re the boss,” you beg, your voice so raw and pleading it sounds foreign. He pounds into you now, a wet slap that echoes off the apartment walls. It takes all your concentration to keep your pleasure contained, to not spill over the edges, but you hear yourself babble somewhere far away.

“You’re the fucking boss. I’m sorry I’m sorry I won’t disobey you again I’ll be a good girl I’ll do anything just please give me permission to come daddy please please please—”

When he moans, loud and depraved, it just about breaks you, but you manage to keep your resolve long enough for him to pant, “Go ahead, let it go.”

With a choked sob, you untether your pleasure and allow it to expand, growing hot and wide and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Every muscle in your body tenses up as the sensation swallows you whole, then spits you back up, sending wave after wave across your body.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he grunts, taking his hand from your clit to hold your knees down and fuck your ass hard and fast and ruthless.

It surprises you when heat starts stretching out from the middle of you again. Your heart starts to race as the feeling grows.

“Ffffuuuuck,” you whimper, “That feels so fucking good—”

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“You did you did holy shit,” you meet his eyes and nod frantically, “I love it I love it—please can you come in my ass?”

“Is that what you want? Want me to come in your tight little asshole?”

A feral noise escapes you, and you sob, “Yes—”

“Do you wanna come too?”

“Yes—oh my god, yes, please please please daddy—”

“Come with me, baby.”

You let the feeling overtake you again, gasping out, “thank you thank you thank you,” as it takes you strong and fast. Pleasure pulses through your body, causing you to convulse and strain against Joel’s grip spreading you open. He releases a moan from his belly and gives you a hard, deep thrust that he holds for a shuddering moment. After emptying himself inside you, he pulls out, falling back to his seat on the couch.

Chest heaving, you prop yourself up on your elbows and study him. He pinches his eyes shut and catches his breath before meeting your gaze again.

His expression goes soft long enough for something dangerous to flicker between you.

Then he turns away and starts getting dressed.

“Get yourself together, I’m gonna go get your mom.”

As you sit up, you fold your legs into your body and watch him button his shirt.

“Joel—”

He looks at you, searching your face expectantly, but your brain goes static and you’re not even sure what you were going to say.

“This stays between us, understand?”

His tone is firm but gentle. You swallow hard and nod, “I understand.”

Nodding, he glances down at your lips, then back to your eyes. He rises to his feet to leave, but before he does, he leans down to press a kiss into your forehead.

“Good girl.”

[ NEXT PART ]

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spenceobsessed · 9 months ago

Text

part 1

this is a part 2 to another fic i did, but can be read as a stand alone!

post!prison reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: after being put on a case with you, spencer realizes he might not hate you as much as he thought.

MDNI 18+

unfortunately, when working for the bau, having time off is very rare. you and spencer were harshly reminded of this. right after your successful arrest of the unsub at the nightclub, you were immediately put on a plane, incredibly sexually frustrated, on your way to another case.

you and spencer had (luckily or unluckily) ended up next to each other on a plane ride to the middle of nowhere in wisconsin. there had been a string of murders in the small town of hayward. four were dead and the unsubs rate of death was accelerating.

the flight was a little under six hours. just sitting next to spencer was excruciating.

the rest of the team had fallen asleep and although you attempted to sleep, you were simply just too horny. not being able to finish earlier, mixed with sheer anticipation had taken over you. you tossed and turned in your seat, a blanket pulled up to your chest. you open your eyes to look at spencer who had a book in his hands, his eyes on you.

you smile softly, sitting upright to get a better look at the handsome man.

“are you okay?" he asks softly, his kind voice still new for you. you nod, watching as he sets his book down over his crotch. hes still hard.

"i'm okay." you respond with a smile. "just, y'know..." you trail off trying to put your thoughts into words.

he laughs softly, completely understanding what you mean. "earlier.” he finishes your sentence with a smirk on his face.

“well i would ask how you feel about ‘earlier’, dr. reid,” you begin, your had moving from the armrest to rub against his chest. “but i can already tell.” you move your had quickly down his chest and hover your hand over his obviously hard cock in his pants. he gasps softly as you use one finger to trace the shape of him.

“fuck.” he groans, the use of a curse word throwing you off (and turning you on). “please.” he begs as you push softly on his cock, feeling a wet spot from precum already forming.

“use your words.” you demand, kindly, your dominance going straight to his dick. spencer liked being dominant, which he most definitely was going to be when the plane fucking lands, but right now he wanted to be taken care of. he needed to be taken care of.

“touch me.” he says simply as you begin to undo his belt quietly.

“ok, pretty boy, but i’m going to need you to keep quiet, can you do that?” you reply, reaching your hand into his underwear, pulling his hard cock out. he was huge, bigger than you would’ve guessed, especially for a relatively skinny guy. his tip was red and angry, begging for your attention.

“yes.” he says breathlessly, watching you hold his cock. you smile, throwing your blanket over his lap and over your arm, deciding that sucking him off would make too much noise.

you use your pointer finger to spread his precum over the tip of his cock, eliciting a muffled groan from the man.

you begin to move your hand down his cock, causing spencer to cover his mouth with his hand. his pupils were blown and his chest rising and falling fast. it was an amazing sight.

you felt yourself getting wet as your hand began to move faster on his cock.

“this feels so good.” he says, his praise only fueling your desire. the man bites back a moan just watching you concentrate on letting him cum.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps out his hips bucking into your hand. “i’m close.” you pick up your pace a bit, making the handsome man roll his eyes back in his head and cum all over your hand. you stand up and take a look around the jet to make sure everyone was still asleep. luckily, penelope garcia had given the whole team noise cancelling headphones for christmas, so no one heard a thing.

you smile leaning in to give him soft kiss on the lips before walking to the bathroom to wash off your hands. when you return, spencer's eyes are closed and you can't help but kiss his cheek. he opens his eyes slowly, reaching up to grab your waist and pull you onto him. he throws the blanket over your bodies and kisses your forehead softly.

you squirm slightly, still feeling horny. he looks up at you, eyes barely open. "your turn?" he asks, referring to your pleasure. you laugh softly shaking your head. he was half asleep and still offering to make you happy. "no, its okay pretty boy, we'll save that for later." he nods, a smile on his face.

"are you sure?" he asks, turning his head so he could look you in the eyes, perhaps to see if you were lying.

"yes, i promise." he kisses you on the forehead before falling asleep, his arms around you.

───── ��⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

although you managed to get some sleep in spencer's arms, you knew that soon enough someone would wake up and you both would get caught. so, an hour after falling asleep on the handsome man, you painfully peeled yourself off of his lap and back into your own cold seat.

luckily, no one had (seemingly) seen anything, which was good.

as of now, you were leaving the plane to go to the hayward precinct.

"we'll check in with the chief of police, then dave and i will stay over night while you guys go to the inn and get some sleep." emily announced as they began piling into two large black suburbans.

they collectively thanked prentiss and rossi before heading to the inn.

"wait so when she says inn..." you ask, climbing the the back seat. jj nods.

"yeah, this is a small town so there isn't really any place for us to stay near by."

tara climbs in the passengers seat and luke slides in next to you.

the rest of the ride there was relatively normal, minus a few jokes about you & spencer's make out session at the night club, that you chose to ignore.

you arrived to the inn quickly, grabbing your designated room key and head to your room.

“fuck!” you yell, surprised to see someone already in your room.

“shhh.” spencer says, coming up to close the door behind you, taking your bags from your hands and setting them down by his feet.

“i missed you.” he says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“it’s been like thirty minutes, pretty boy.” he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. you laugh as he picks you up easily and carries you over to the queen sized bed.

“i’ve just been thinking about earlier.” he says, laying down next to you.

“oh yeah?” you say, turning you head to face him.

“uh huh,” he says, pulling your body closer to him allowing you to lay your head on his chest. “i want to make you cum now.” he says, his voice low. you look up at him allowing him to tip his head down to kiss your lips.

“jj.. is.. next.. door.” you huff out in between kisses. spencer shrugs, flipping your position so he’s on top of you. he begins kissing and biting down your jaw and neck, using his hands to expertly remove your shirt. he lets out a small groan when he rips the shirt off you, revealing your tiny, lacy bra.

“off please.” is all you manage to say, but somehow he understands. he unclasps your bra in a single motion, throwing it to the floor, exposing your hardened nipples.

“y/n..” he says lowly, his eyes filled with lust. “so pretty.” he continues to trail kisses down your neck and chest, until his mouth lands on your tit, sucking softly as his other hand teases your other nipple.

you groan softly, that familiar wet feeling returning in your underwear for the third time in 24 hours.

although you’ve just started, your groans and boobs had already gone straight to spencer’s cock and as he kissed your body you could already feel his hardness pressed on your leg.

you buck your hips up against spencer, begging for some friction.

“i need you inside of me, spencer.” the use of his name he was so unfamiliar with made his pants grow tighter.

“so needy.” he jokes with a smile, moving to remove your pants, his mouth watering at the sight of your covered pussy, a perfect wet spot in the center.

“so, so pretty.” he sighs, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling it off of your legs.

without warning he inserts two of his fingers in you, causing you to gasp and moan at the new sensation. you slowly attempt to remove his shirt as pleasure blinds your senses.

soon enough, spencer is moving down to attach his mouth on your cunt. “spence, please, im gonna cum. i need you inside me.” you moan, your back arching. this garners a moan from the handsome man, his noises echoing in your pussy.

you expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. you feel your walls begin to tighten as he returns his fingers into you, allowing you to finally cum.

you moan and groan, his name on your lips.

even though your only semi cognizantas you recover from your high, you can’t help but notice the way spencer has begun to crash his hips against the bed.

“inside me.” you demand, your breathing heavy. spencer smiles as he removes his pants, leaving just his boxers, and crawls over top of you. he captures your lips in a heated and sloppy kiss, the remnants of your orgasm on his lips.

you reach down, breaking the kiss to remove his underwear, his hard and leaking cock sticking straight up. you smile as he pecks your lips, moving himself so his cock is aligned with your entrance.

he glides his cock over your slit a few times, causing you to beg him to be inside you. you’ve never felt this desperate before. he slowly pushes his large dick into you, causing you to groan, slightly in pain due to his size.

“you okay, baby?” he whispers, noticing your discomfort. you nod as your walls adjust, his size now feeling incredible.

he begins to pump his cock in and out, immediately hitting you in your sweet spot.

“fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back. he uses his hand to move your face back, towards him.

“i want to see your pretty face when you cum, y/n.” he says, in almost a demanding manner, but still with kind undertones.

his words don’t fail to turn you on, somehow even more.

“oh, you like that?” he says through a moan, as his pace quickens, the leud sounds of his cock driving deep inside you, mixed with moans, fill the small room.

“i’m close,” spencer admits, through breathy moans. you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a deep moan.

you feel his dick twitch inside you as rubs your clit with his fingers.

“cum inside me, please.” you beg, feeling your core tighten around him, your release nearing.

“are you sure?” he asks, his movements becoming more sloppy, his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“yes!” you confirm as you reach your climax for the second time, spencer following quickly.

his hot cum fills you up as he continues his movements, riding you both through your highs.

when you’ve both had a second to catch your breaths, he pulls out of you, leaving you full of his cum, but missing his cock. you smile as he gives you a slow kiss, laying down next to you.

“you’re so perfect.” he whispers into your hair as you lay your head on his chest. you smile, happy, but a little confused how just over a day ago you couldn’t stand this beautiful man.

a/n: thank you all for 100 followers and so much love on my last post. as someone new to tumblr it seriously means a lot. just so you know, my requests are open!!!! thanks again🫶🫶🫶

#spencer reid imagine #spenceobsessed #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #smut #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #criminal minds smut #imagine

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seneon · 7 months ago

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waiting for hours ──── seishiro nagi x fem! reader.

about. in which, nagi awaits your arrival at home for hours. pure fluff oneshot. wc of 1.2k.

notes. this is like, the highest rated chapter in my my oneshot book in wattpad. so im slapping this in tumblr too and happy belated bday to koala boy!! for @hyoismbbg ♡

𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 was the first time during this year that nagi was able to arrive home early from his football practice. and by early, earlier than the time his lover's work finishes.

he freshened himself up, ate some food in the fridge and waited. it was 8:42pm, almost an hour and a half for you to finish your work.

the football player, now playing for a professional team, was basically bored out of his mind. he could play games until you've returned, but the man had played every game in the universe.he could watch anime, movies or anything. but those would bore him instantly.

honestly, everything is boring to him nowadays. the only thing that would keep him entertained is football and you.

you were practically the same as him, a lazy person who somehow managed to be a successful writer and be in a relationship with another lazy athlete.

nagi waited and waited and waited. for what seemed like hours, he kept waiting for your presence to shine in his day. but every time he checked the clock, only a few minutes passed from the previous.

as tired as the white-haired male is, he decided to make you some simple yet cute supper, prepare your essentials for when you returned from work. nagi even set up your little table in your shared room by the window for when you read or do some planning for tomorrow.

he eventually lost track of time while trying to make everything in the house perfect so you didn't have to do anything else when you came home. an hour or so had passed, and nagi still didn't hear the door twist open.

you yawned, tired from the meeting you had at your publishing company. really, sometimes you wish you could boss around rude people and shut them up from their shitty opinions. but business is business. and rude people didn't really matter anyways.

you set everything the way it is, and stop in your tracks when you see the kitchen counter filled with a plate of delicious food.

the apartment looked pretty neat and clean too. when you looked around in suspicion and curiousity, some of the recognisable things belonging to your boyfriend were laying around freely.

that was when a smile crawled up your cheeks. your mind traveled to nagi who prepared the food and cleaned up the house— just as he walked out the room, an annoyed expression on his face.

"i thought you were never coming home, after i prepared everything for you," he pouted with a poker face, definitely disappointed at how late you arrived home.

"ah— my bad. thank you. you're home early," you shot him a lazy smile before he walked towards you and pulled you into a lazy hug, completely embracing you in his huge form.

"yeah, practice kinda got canceled because coach's wife got into trouble.”

since you were way tinier than him, you practically squished under his body, melting in the warmth of your lazy, sweet loving boyfriend.

he smelled like mint and fresh sugary frosting, from the body wash you gave to him as a present on his birthday. it was a scent that pulled you in so much it froze and destroyed all the negative comments that were written about your books.

as much as you didn't want to separate the hug, nagi gently plucked himself away from you, sternly looking into your eyes.

"eat, and go take a bath. then we can sleep together. practice might be cancelled tomorrow too if coach's wife's trouble is still ongoing.." he trailed off and shook his head. "ehh whatever just go. i made food for you without burning the kitchen and prepared stuff for you in the room."

you chuckled and nodded your head repeatedly, trying to keep in the laugh with his ridiculously sarcastic get funny words. pretty much whatever nagi said could be funny to you.

"i won't doubt your effort. thank you again," you tiptoed and gave him a quick peck on the lips, heading over to the kitchen counter to eat your supper.

the peck made nagi blush. it was the first kiss you gave him this week. it is monday night, the start of the week. and you kissed him yesterday. hah. humour. nagi keeps track of kisses he gets from you.

anyways, he wanted more kisses from you later so he watched you eat while conversing a little about both your writer job and athlete jobs.

then, he waited for you to take your bath, freshen up before you bailed out your little window corner and jumped into bed with nagi.

"thank you, sei," you thanked him again, as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. "you've thanked me three times already. you're welcome though..."

your fingers moved to lace themselves in the soft fluffy hair of the male, moving around to ruffle and gently play with it.

nagi's hair was fairly soft, like cotton candy that would melt when it came in contact with liquid. it could even be on par with the clouds albeit you've never felt clouds before. but you just know it was more soft and fluffy than anything else.

you found it awfully cute that his love language is physical touch, so much that you often see him as a cat. and for a fact that nagi only needs and wants your attention, not from anyone else because you are everything to him.

the male hummed when your fingers played with his hair, an odd calmness filling over the mind and body of the athlete. you always managed to calm him down, physically and mentally. he loved that it was a good trait of you that he fell in love with.

"i love you," he said against your neck, his breath touching your skin as you couldn't help but smile at his words. he was random, sure, but you know when nagi was being genuine and sarcastic. now, he meant every word of it.

"i love you too," you replied softly, your fingers moving, trailing down to his cheeks to caress his chiseled jawline and softly stroke his cheeks.

such a work of art, you thought to yourself when you faced him and looked into his eyes.

how could a man be as angelic as your boyfriend?

you felt so blessed to have nagi in your life, never regretting that you made the first move for being friends and eventually he would later on give you a lazy confession that was conducted by his friend, reo.

"you're really beautiful, love," he felt himself smile when the both of you were staring into each other's eyes lovingly. "so beautiful.."

"and you're very handsome," you chuckled, going closer to his face. you kept the tiny distance for a moment, having a small time to admire nagi's grey eyes.

nagi then closed the distance between you both, his lips ever so softly closing in on yours to give you a lovely kiss.

it was filled with the purest intentions of showing how much he loves you, nothing else than an innocent kiss that was focused on appreciation and love.

you both pulled away at the same time, your arms wrapping around his neck as his own snaking around your waist to pull you close.

gosh, you love hugs when it comes to your lazy gigantic boyfriend. he always gives you the best ones.

"let's sleep now, okay?" he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, letting you reply with a nod before pulling the soft blanket over you two.

"i've been waiting for hours to cuddle you to sleep. good night, y/n.”

#﹙🗝️ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐰𝐫𝖎𝐭𝖎𝐧𝐠﹚#seishiro nagi #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi x y/n #blue lock #blue lock fluff #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock nagi #blue lock hcs #bllk fluff #nagi fluff #bllk nagi #nagi #blue lock x female reader

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alltimefail · 3 months ago

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Agency Assignments: A comprehensive to-do list for saving Dead Boy Detectives!

I'm very easily overwhelmed, so I wanted to break down all the ways to help "Save Dead Boy Detectives" that I have seen floating around. This is meant to be something you can reference when you feel like there is so much you need and want to do to help, but don't know how or where to start.

Note: I will be updating this post as we go when necessary, so feel free to bookmark it in your browser for easy access, add it to your homepage, whatever! I'll always have a link to it in my Pinned Navigation post on my blog as well!

It is of the utmost importance that we fight as an organized, well-informed front. We need to be on the same page if we're going to save our show, so let's get into it! 💜💀🔎

➪ First and foremost, follow @savethedeadboys! They're going to be our best resource during this fight.

➪ Next, follow @deadboyagency for news and updates: they've been around since the show dropped and have been an invaluable source of information the entire time.

Now for some task breakdowns:

"One-Time" Tasks

➪ Like the header says, these things can only be done once. Once you do them, you don't have to give them any space in your mind.

Sign the petition*

Review & Rate Dead Boy Detectives on Google, IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes. Be sure on IMDB you don't just rate the show as a whole, but you also rate each individual episode! You can also "Like" the show on Google and click "Watched" which helps the show's engagement scores. (If there are other popular sites I haven't listed here, feel free to share them and rate Dead Boy Detectives highly on them!)

Notify Netflix customer service (through their online chat feature) that you're unhappy with the cancelation of Dead Boy Detectives. This is a short, 5-minute task that I wrote a guide on (with an example message) here!

"Repeat" Tasks:

➪ These tasks can become a part of your daily routine; do what works best for you! You don't have to do every single one of these tasks every day if that is overwhelming!

Share the petition* over and over again, on every one of your socials! Make everyone you love sign it!

Stream Dead Boy Detectives!* Keep it on a loop in the background on low volume as much as possible. Try to get others to stream it as well, especially if they haven't watched it before! Netflix cares about VIEWS: views save shows and I broke down the reasoning here. (Bonus: if you post over on Twitter about your rewatch, use the tag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives)

Talk about Dead Boy Detectives!* You're probably doing that already, but just be sure that you're tagging your posts. Here on Tumblr use the "Dead Boy Detectives" tag at least (to boost our tag to trending) and anywhere that uses hashtags (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram for example) I would recommend #SaveDeadBoyDetectives and #DeadBoyDetectives as those seem to be the most commonly used tags! IMPORTANT: do not use more than 20 tags here on Tumblr! Any more than 20 and your posts might be marked as spam and hidden from the tags!

Create art, edits for TikTok, fics, gif sets, doodles, crafts, analysis posts, and so on for Dead Boy Detectives.* Having fun is important, too! This is an extension of the "Talk about Dead Boy Detectives" point, but it needs to be stated - don't remove the joy from the fight. If a drawing of our boys or a smutty fic with your favorite trickster cat king is what you can bring to the fight on any given day, that is a perfectly valuable contribution! It's not all emails and hashtags.

Daily request a show through Netflix. Bonus if you're signed in! (I do 3-5 times a day)

Send Emails advocating for Dead Boy Detectives (Email list & Email Template). You can do this as much as you want or just one time.

Send Snail-mail (physical letters) to Netflix advocating for Dead Boy Detectives. I also send a copy of my letters to Warner Bros. Studios. Again, you can do this one time or multiple times. There are dates set aside for "mass" mail sending as well, so check out info on that here!

Interact with articles posted about Dead Boy Detectives. Read them, share them, comment on them, thank the writer for writing them, etc. We want lots of press about the cancellation, and supporting journalists and publications will make them want to write about Dead Boy Detectives more.

NOTE: Anything marked with a * means it's extremely important; if you can only do a few things, these tasks are the ones that you should focus on first. Remember to take care of yourself. This is a marathon, not a sprint, so don't burn yourself out!

WE WILL SAVE THIS SHOW.

Say that to yourself as many times as it takes for you to believe it. We're doing this to get justice for the writers, the actors, for ourselves, and assert to these companies that diverse, queer stories are not disposable one-offs; they deserve to be told in full!

Hugs and Handshakes to you all - whatever will suffice. 💜 Always feel free to reach out if you have any questions, whether that be through private message or my ask box. I'm not going anywhere!

- V

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fordtato · 5 months ago

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Emergency commissions/donations to help me move!

Hey all! I'm in a tough financial spot with a very unexpected $1000 move-out fee, and I need some help!

So I am offering fic commissions AND background/landscape art - That's right, writing AND art, for the prices below! I also will accept donations, but I feel more comfortable offering art, etc.

Donations:

I will accept donations if you just wanna help out! If you'd like to pay for a commission, keep scrolling.

If you would just like to donate without a commission, here is my Ko-Fi!

Fanfiction commissions:

Won't write:

fandoms I know nothing about (DM me if you'd like something outside of Gravity Falls work, though I'm sure that's where most of my following is)

gore

any type of thing that would get me cancelled on twitter dot com (come on guys, im a YouTuber now)

Will write:

Just about anything else tbh. OCs, melodrama, angst, hurt-comfort, you name it.

NSFW (for adult customers only. im not writing this for teenagers. do your homework)

Rates: $25 per 1k words, with a 150 word buffer. (Meaning, if I write 1150 words, I'm not charging you extra, it'll still be $25)

Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!

Note: I will not be posting these on Ao3, due to Ao3's "no money for fics" rules.

Examples of my fics, if you want to check out my work:

Note: Jersey Boy is my oldest fic (literally 8 years old and still going). The first couple chapters are pretty rough imo. The latter chapters are more in line with my capabilities. Also, yes, this fic is still being written, it's just being written between jobs and between work on YouTube vids, and I have less available time for it than I used to. Pay me to finish more of Jersey Boy (/s)

Background art commissions:

So, 90% of the artists I know tell me that background/environment art is one of the parts of the process they dislike the most. But it's actually my favorite thing to draw!

I actually don't feel comfortable enough in my drawing of characters to feel good about charging people for those, but I think I can consistently do some background art!

Examples of my art/pricing below!

Simpler color palette/lighting, and fewer details: $20-30

More detailed digital paintings: $40-50

For anymore detail then what you see above, we'll have to work that pricing out!

Example of heavy detail that might cost more:

Send me details on what you'd like in a digital painting and we will work out a timetable!

Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!

Donate/pay here: My Ko-Fi

I appreciate you reading, and if you can't help out, please share!

#gravity falls #art commissions #open commissions #writing commissions #signal boost #help me out if you are willing and able #or just share!

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loveshotzz · 1 year ago

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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Melt With You

summary: A cancelled movie night, Steve’s first high, and a realization you weren’t expecting.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ but this will be pretty safe for work. takes place in 1988 when Elvira Mistress of the Dark came out. post season four but no mention of the upside down, fem!reader, mentions of weed smoking, mentions of being stoned and being high for the first time, mutual pining, cuddling.

A/N: first I want to dedicate this to @bewilderedbunny for pointing out that Steve Harrington is Bob coded which made me fall even more in love with him. You can also thank @dr-aculaaa for putting this brain worm in my head where it spiraled and then she entertained it again and it spiraled some more. p.s. I know her movie macabre was cancelled in 86 but brought back in the 90’s but let’s pretend.

mini series masterlist -> chapter two 🎃

Steve was close. Too close.

His thigh is warm pressed against yours, long legs spread wide taking up most of the room on the couch. The cedar that clings to the threads of his maroon sweater mix with the old spice that he’s almost sprayed too much of, and you’re surprised at how much you actually like it. You blame it on the joint you both shared, and you do it again when his socked foot touches yours from under the blanket draped across your laps and your heart rate kicks up a few beats. This was just Steve, your new friend. Eddie’s new unlikely friend.

The living room in your apartment is dimly lit in a mess of Halloween colored string lights strung up along your walls that Eddie helped you hang up last week on the first official day of fall. They fill the small space in bursts of warm orange pumpkins and tiny purple bats while Elvira Mistress of The Dark glows from the screen of your TV in front of your couch. The couch where Steve is still sitting too close.

The flicker of your candles dances across your walls and you’re tempted to blow them all out when they keep catching the corner of your eye. Maybe that's why you can't focus on the movie you were so excited about. The movie you raised a big fuss over when the group canceled your weekly night in favor of dates and work. The movie Steve still offered to watch with you saying he had no plans anyway. You really contemplate it when you realize it’s filling your living room with the kind of smell that’s eerily similar to the one embedded in the leather of the BMW you recently started getting more rides in.

When Steve laughs you can smell the berry on his breath from the Red Vines he can’t stop eating, his fingertips glisten from the half finished tub of popcorn on the coffee table. His arm brushes the length of yours when he leans forward to toss the almost empty pack of candy with the rest of the snacks and your stare immediately finds the sliver of tan skin revealed to you when the maroon hem rides up. Stomach flipping when you spot more freckles than the ones that seem to dot the endless expanses of his perpetually sun kissed skin.

“Wow, she’s funny!” He snickers like he just got a good surprise, leaning back into the cushions. “I didn’t know she was so funny.”

The shift in his weight makes the couch dip, bringing you closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Why is your chest tight?

Turning your head, you meet his blood shot, heavy lidded gaze and lazy smile that pushes up his pink cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington so content. So relaxed. It might have something to do with the fact that the joint you both shared was his first.

“Beauty, humor and brains? How could you go wrong?” You grin and it makes the amber in his eyes light up.

“Yeah,” He stares at you for a second longer than he’d have the guts to on a normal day before adding with a sigh “tell me about it.”

There was something different about the way he was looking at you tonight, and it makes your palms sweat. The fly away honey strands that stick out wildly by his ears look softer than normal too. Why do you want to find out? Clearing your throat, he raises his eyebrows up at you in an unphased offering of his attention.

“How are you doing big boy? You coughed quite a bit earlier.” His gaze narrows at the nickname letting you know that Steve was still very much in there.

“I think it’s perfectly normal for someone who hasn’t smoked before to cough when they take an accidental big hit,” he challenges, his sock covered toes finding yours again seemingly on their own, “and to answer your rudely asked question, I’m having a very nice time.”

He tries to keep his face straight but the smile that stretches a mile wide across yours makes him snort, the whites of his perfect teeth blinding in the dark when you wiggle your feet with his.

“Good, I wouldn’t want Robin to come hunt me down or something.” You giggle leaning back letting your own high relax you into the couch.

Your eyes find Elvira’s generous cleavage on the screen as you try to ignore the feeling of Steve’s hand touching yours when he scratches his thigh and again when he leaves it there.

“Robin won’t care, it’s Nance you gotta worry about. Worry wart Wheeler.” The nickname rolls off his tongue too easily and makes you both stop, letting the sounds of the towns committee trying to get Elvira out fill the silence before you both fall into a fit of laughter.

It was the kind of laughter that left hot tears streaming down your faces as you leaned even further into each other trying to catch your breath, only for one of you to mutter ‘worry wart wheeler’ when the other would finally be holding it together just to start all over again. By the time it was done, and the last few chuckles subsided, his head had found a new home on your shoulder with his forehead buried in the crook of your neck.

The smell of his hairspray, and the soft flyaways you’d wondered about tickle your nose with his hair pressed to your cheek. Your socked feet stay tangled together as you try not to think about the size difference and that stupid saying you’d heard in middle school, and you definitely try not to think about how the tip of his pinky bumps into the side of your hand and how you don’t hesitate to hook it with yours.

Cozy. Too Cozy.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you both when your attention is finally brought back to the movie and you wonder if he’s having the same existential crisis as you at how good this feels. Eddie would never let you live it down. You and the hair?! Steve’s amused hum breaks you out of your train of thought and you already know you’ll have to watch this again when you aren’t so…distracted.

Elvira and Bob are fighting with a monster she accidentally concocted inside of a pot instead of the casserole she was trying to make, and his finger tightens around yours when Bob almost loses the fight before he shakes against you with a chuckle. The longer the movie goes on, the more you start noticing Steve’s similarities to the hunk who stole the Mistress of the Dark’s affections, mumbling an ‘oh my god’.

God dammit, you have a crush on Steve Harrington.

The weed makes the realization floor you more than it probably would on a normal day, because you aren’t blind, anyone could tell you how handsome the former king of Hawkins is. But no one could have warned you about how soft he is, especially right now with sleepy eyes and messy hair that smells like pine and too much hair product. They wouldn’t be able to tell you how big of a dweeb he is, or as Robin affectionately calls him a ‘dingus’. They also don’t know how good of a friend he is to anyone who’s lucky to have him, like refusing to let you spend the night alone and watching a movie he knew you were excited about just because he’d actually listened when you talked about it for weeks, even saving you the first copy in Keith’s possession.

Too bad you’ve barely retained any of it.

As if he could hear your thoughts, you feel the slight turn of his head and the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. You try not to give yourself away and keep your gaze locked on the TV where the town has Elvira ready to be burned at the stake, and Bob has to rescue her. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, the universe just rubbing it in now.

The side of your body he’s been leaning against starts to go numb, and no matter how much you want to stay exactly like this for whatever is left of the night, the need for circulation becomes too much. Your eyes flick down to his that haven’t haven’t wavered and that slow happy smile spreads across his pink lips when they meet.

“You doing okay, honey.” The nickname he’s called you sarcastically in arguments sounds different when it’s wrapped in affection like this.

“Not that I’m not enjoying -,” nerves make your throat close up and you have to clear them out before you finish, “not that I’m not enjoying this. My arm is just kind of going numb.”

Heat rises to your cheeks with embarrassment that you know is misplaced, and his eyes go wide when your words click. His reaction is fast despite the smoked joint that's snuffed out in an empty coke can on the table when he pulls away. The warmth of his body that’s invaded what feels like every inch of yours for the last hour is gone and the tightness in your chest worsens now that you miss it. Stupid crush. Stupid blood flow.

“Oh my god, sorry, sorry, I was just so comfortable I wasn’t even thinking.” There’s stress in his tone that you haven’t heard all night and you decide that you hate it, he’s always stressed.

“Hey,” Your fingers curl around his bicep, and it flexes under the thick material of his sweater when his eyes meet yours, making you forget how to speak for a moment, “if we lay down on our sides we’ll - we’ll be more comfortable?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears after you throw out your suggestion fully knowing there’s gotta be less than twenty minutes left of the movie at most.

“Yeah, we can do that, like, big spoon?” He points to himself, with eyes as red as his cheeks before pointing to you with a small grin, “little spoon?”

You bite your bottom lip to contain the smile that threatens to break across your face, and it only makes his grow.

“Yeah, just like that Harrington.” You giggle and you don’t miss the kind of glint in his eyes that sparkles because of it.

“Harrington? I thought I was big boy?” He mocks with fake offense, clumsily clambering back onto the couch letting himself fully extend.

His socked feet almost hang off the armrest but the problem is quickly solved when he turns onto his side leaving just enough room for you. One of his big hands patting the cushions in an invitation that makes you both laugh.

“I thought you hated that nickname?” you tease, butterflies that never existed before erupting when he watches you with soft eyes climb into the spot next to him.

Your head lands in the crook of his elbow, amber and spice enveloping you while one of his long fingers curl around your hip not hesitating to pull you flush against his chest like he missed you. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a wandering mind tonight.

“I don’t,” he agrees, lips coming up right next to your ear and you wonder if he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, “but I kinda like it when you say it.”

Your body curls into him when you giggle with a throb in your core that makes your thighs press together. Steve chuckles, hooking his chin over your shoulder and his feet find yours at the end of the couch like they did under the blanket. Grabbing the throw off the floor, you drape it back over the two of you when you both finally get situated.

He feels like he’s everywhere and it’s even harder to concentrate like this, especially when all his fingers are laced with yours now. The pad of his thumb rubs circles on the top of your hand, and you can feel the way his cheeks push up into a grin every time something makes him laugh. You spend the last bit of what’s left of the movie tangled up with him like this, and neither one of you try to move when the credits roll or when the screen goes black.

The air buzzes with the kind of tension that’s laid dormant until there’s nothing to distract you from it anymore in the new silence. His breath fans hot across your neck while the strokes of his thumb get slower, adding a little more pressure to the muscle there, and feels good enough to have your eyes flutter closed.

Maybe it’s the darkness of your living room, or the way the tip of his nose starts to trace the shell of your ear but you get the surge of confidence you need to turn around and face him. Steve doesn’t protest at all, letting you move with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was waiting for it all along. The small smile on his face tells you he absolutely was.

The new angle has you looking up at him from under your lashes, while his hand that held yours all night covers the middle of your back bringing you to his chest, getting you just as close as before. Your legs slot together while warm lights flicker across his face, they bounce and reflect off the lingering glaze that coats his eyes. Embers burning in a mossy ground.

It starts to feel like Steve Harrington wants to kiss you, and you’d be lying if your said you didn’t want him too.

“Hi” You whisper, the corners of your lips pulling up because they can’t help it when he looks at you like this.

“Hi” the rich honey of his voice comes out low as he dips his head down to rest on his forearm right above yours.

The tips of your noses are dangerously close to touching, and you swear you hear his breath hitch when your feet find his again. Holding his gaze, you silently dare him to read your mind so you don’t have to say it out loud. You do it first.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You try not to think about how it sounds like something you’d say at the end of a date.

“Me too, I’m uh -“ a puff of hot air fans across your face when he laughs, and you notice his first sign of nerves all night, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself or anything.”

“I have to say I’m impressed, you handled your first joint like a pro.” Your hands dare to run up his chest, plucking a piece of lint from the threads of his sweater. You feel the way the muscles in his stomach flex for you, and you have to bite back your smirk.

“I had good company is all.” He hums, the blunt ends of his nails scratching along the dip of your back, before whispering “Is this okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut with contentment you haven’t felt in a while, your whole body melting into his with a mumbled ‘mmmhm’

“Does Elvira have any other movies we could watch sometime?” His question makes your eyes pop open, and he tries to look as nonchalant as possible before adding, “you know just me and you.”

“Not a movie, per say but she has a show I like to watch where she does funny commentary on B rated horror films.” Your two feet trap one of his between them playfully to try and ease the nerves he shouldn’t have, earning you that megawatt smile that’s made half the ladies in Hawkins swoon.

So, Steve Harrington wasn’t a mind reader.

“That sounds like fun,” He lets out a relieved sigh that you didn’t know he was holding, close enough now for your noses to touch.

“Yeah? You wanna come have fun with me?” You tease, but it comes out sounding like a double entendre that makes your skin heat up, especially when Steve closes his eyes and groans. The nails that scratch your back freeze as he tries regaining some semblance of self control. Licking his lips, he exhales a breath out of his nose before he speaks,

“Abso-“

His answer gets cut off by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the bellowing voice of the only other person who has keys to your apartment.

“I’ve come for boobies and I brought beer! Better late than never am I ri- Whoa, whoa, WHOA, what is going on here?” Eddie’s shock is quickly replaced by amusement, dimples poking deep holes in his cheeks when he grins wildly as he takes in the two of you on the couch.

What was going on here?

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem!reader

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hueseok · 2 months ago

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GOOD GRACES ( index. )

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

gen. warning/s: lots of swearing | mature themes | might contain implicit sexual content in future chapters!

THE PARTS: ( 01 / 10. )

✧ EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

✧ EPISODE 02

✧ EPISODE 03

✧ EPISODE 04

✧ EPISODE 05

✧ EPISODE 06

✧ EPISODE 07

✧ EPISODE 08

✧ EPISODE 09

✧ EPISODE 10

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ i really like you — carly rae jepsen ♫ good graces — sabrina carpenter ♫ don’t go breaking my heart — elton john, kiki dee

TAGLIST STATUS: open! send an ask or reply to this post ♡

note. this drabble series is product of this idea. i love only murders in the building and i think that was mostly the inspiration in coming up with this fic! updates will be sporadic (if you’re familiar with me, you might have already expected this lmao), so no schedules whatsoever hehe,, i will however try to update as often and as quick as i can ♡

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kaunaz · 1 year ago

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hey. so. i need the Ultrakill community to understand something, in case Hakita doesn't say anything about it.

Unity, the company, has decided to begin charging developers that made games with their software, once they meet a certain threshold. if a game earns $200,000 within 12 months, and 200,000 installs of said game happen total, the devs will be billed a flat rate of 20 cents per install. RETROACTIVELY. which is already a major blow to everyone who's ever found success with Unity (hint: Ultrakill is made in Unity).

to make this worse, the company is not planning to use tracking software to figure out how many installs have happened, like we THOUGHT they might, and aren't doing a good job of clarifying what an "install" even means. instead, they have stated that they'll be using a "proprietary data model" to determine this number per game. translation: they're making up numbers with AI. they don't even care. it's basically robbery and we're pretty sure this is mad illegal.

these changes are being finalized by January 1st of 2024.

game developers have the following options:

1) pay the bullshit fee.

2) port their entire game into another engine and re-release it in said engine.

3) cancel their Unity subscription and remove their game from all stores.

i don't know what this means for Ultrakill. maybe Hakita can pay the fee. maybe he'll try to port into Godot or Unreal. or maybe he will just decide it's not worth it to keep going. i don't know. i don't know what sort of person he is.

no matter what happens, PLEASE try to enjoy the game while you can. if development continues, expect delays. lots of them. above all, DO NOT GET ANGRY AT HAKITA IF THE GAME NEEDS TO BE DELAYED OR SHUT DOWN. THE BLAME FOR ANY PROBLEMS GOING FORWARD LIES SOLELY ON UNITY'S CORPORATE GREED.

Hakita, if you're reading this, please just do whatever you think is best. it's your game, your life. we enjoyed everything you've done so far, and for me, that's good enough.

#ultrakill #unity

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thisapplepielife · 3 months ago

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Written for @steddieangstyaugust.

Clean Sheets Night

Day #20: "I didn't know where else to go." | Word Count: 1374 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Annoyed Steve Harrington, Oblivious Eddie Munson, Mild Angst, Happy Ending, This Is What People Mean When They Say Marriage is Hard

Steve smooths the bottom sheet, then fluffs the top one over the entire bed, walking around all the edges to make sure it's laying just so. He can smell the fresh scent of the dryer sheet clinging to the fabric as it whooshes through the air, and he loves it.

Growing up, he never had to change his own sheets, they always just showed up that way, after the housekeeper had been there for the day.

Now, he does it for himself, and enjoys it.

Then he pulls the first comforter up over the bedding, and then tops it with a second comforter, and then with a heavy quilt. Clean, warm and cozy. Blankets piled high. This is how he likes his bed to look, and feel. Not tugged and pulled and mussed up within five minutes of going to bed.

So, he relishes these nights alone. He always turns them into Clean Sheets Night.

His own private party, just for one.

He can crawl into bed and onto sheets that are fresh out of the dryer and smell fantastic. And then he can sleep in them, and in the morning, when he rolls out of bed, he can just pull up the top sheet and blankets and it'll look like it has never been slept in at all.

It's perfect. Wonderful. One of his all-time favorite solo activities.

A simple pleasure, but one nonetheless.

Steve had no idea how much he needed clean and tidy sheets on his bed until he moved in with Eddie and that concept was so rudely ripped away from him.

So, when Eddie's gone for the night, he changes the sheets and relishes the lack of chaos.

Sliding between the sheets, he turns on the television, watching as it comes to life as Letterman is getting ready to deliver his nightly monologue.

Then, the front door bangs open and closed, and before he knows it, Eddie is standing in the doorway.

"Oooh, clean sheet night," Eddie says, as he sheds his clothes next to the bed, sliding in beside him. Kicking his feet, ruffling everything immediately. Then he slides his hand across the empty space between them, squeezing a handful of Steve's ass.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks, because Eddie was supposed to be on a plane to L.A. right now. Not here, already fucking up his clean linens.

"Flight was canceled. We'll have to try again tomorrow. So…?" Eddie asks, squeezing Steve's ass again, a clear come on.

"The sheets are clean," Steve says, because they are.

They are clean, and were, up until five seconds ago, very well made. But Eddie never cares about that, never even tries to keep from messing them up the second they're back on the bed. He wallers around, like a hog sorting out his pile of hay.

"That's part of the fun, messing them all up again," Eddie says.

"That's not fun. That's annoying," Steve states flatly.

"Having sex with me is annoying?" Eddie asks, "Gee, thanks, sweetheart."

"When my sheets are clean? Yeah, a little. You weren't even supposed to be here tonight."

"Well, excuse me. I thought my husband might be excited to see me back home unexpectedly. I didn't know where else to go. Did you want me to get a hotel room? Sleep on the floor of the airport? Shit. I didn't know coming home to you would be so controversial, Steve. Fucking hell."

Steve rubs at his forehead. He wasn't trying to start a fight. He really wasn't. Of course he wants Eddie here at home. But at the same time, he can be annoyed that his plans for the night have changed.

"Of course I want you home, Eddie, you're putting words in my mouth," Steve says, "I just. Like my clean sheets. Okay? I look forward to this. Because you are like a hog wallering around in shit."

Eddie looks at him for a split second wide-eyed, then laughs loudly, so Steve laughs, too.

Eddie raises his arm, sniffing his underarm, "I'm clean. I think. Mostly."

Steve rolls his eyes, "I don't mean dirty like that. Just. You sleep like a chaos demon and my bed suffers for it."

"Well, I'm sorry King Steve, I didn't know we were fancy over here," he says, rolling over onto his back, tugging the sheets around him, and then crossing his arms over his chest, like he's laying in a casket. Dead. Still.

Steve rolls his eyes, scooting across the space between them, throwing his arm over Eddie's stomach.

"I'll try to be more careful," Eddie says, cracking open one eye, looking over at Steve.

"I'm glad you're home, sorry for being a bitch," Steve says.

Eddie grins, closing his eyes again, "I like you bitchy. I wouldn't have you any other way."

Steve smiles, closing his eyes, cuddling up beside Eddie.

"I really didn't know you felt so strongly about the sheets," Eddie admits, maneuvering so he can wrap his arm around Steve's shoulders, squeezing.

"I do," Steve admits, "I really, really do. I don't know how you fuck them up so fast. It drives me fucking crazy."

"I get hot, okay? You've got so many blankets on the bed all the time," Eddie says.

"You're the coldest blooded person I know!" Steve scoffs, affronted by this excuse, "The extra blankets are for you."

"I sleep hot, though. I thought you wanted all these piles of blankets."

"No! They're for you," Steve insists.

"Well, maybe we could take a few off, and see if that helps me not kick everything around in the middle of the night."

"Well, okay!" Steve nearly shouts, unbelieving that they've been this out of sync with each other. Eddie is always cold. His hands are cold, his feet. Steve never thought that he wouldn't be cold when he sleeps. What the fuck? Seriously. What. The. Fuck?

They've been together for years, many, many years. This shouldn't be coming up right now.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Steve asks, as he scoots over until he can crawl out of bed, yanking the heavy quilt off the top of the bed. Then the second comforter. Leaving only one comforter and the top sheet. "That still too much? Want me to switch them?"

"That's fine, sweetheart," Eddie says, "and I never said anything because I thought this is what made you comfortable."

Steve stands at the end of the bed, hands on his hips. Well, this is some bullshit.

"I'm sorry. I've been silently plotting your demise for years, when I could have just taken some blankets off? That's bullshit."

Eddie laughs, tilting his head back against the pillow.

"How were you gonna off me?" Eddie asks.

"Lots of ways. It always ended with wrapping you up in the sheets you fucked up, though," Steve teases, and Eddie is smiling like a fucking goon.

Steve loves him.

Even if he fucks up the bedding.

Eddie swings his hips around so he can crawl out of bed, too. He pulls the sheet and comforter up, trying his best to smooth everything back out how Steve had it.

"There," Eddie says, brushing his hands together, like he's finished a big job. Steve's charmed, and yeah, he's found this pretty annoying, but at the same time? If this is how marriage is hard for them? They've gotten pretty goddamn lucky.

Steve watches to see what Eddie's next move is, now that he's tried to remake the bed.

"Now," Eddie says, "I'll tell you what. I'm gonna go take a shower. Wash the airport off me. And if you'd like to join me you can," Eddie says, reaching over and squeezing Steve's hip, "and after that, we can both crawl back into your clean sheets, and lay like corpses."

Steve grins so wide, he thinks his face might split in two, nodding, "Yes. Let's do that."

Eddie smiles, and walks towards the bathroom.

Steve looks down at the bed, reaching down to adjust the corner of the comforter that was flipped up on Eddie's side, but this time, he does it with a smile.

And then he follows Eddie to the shower that he can already hear running, his husband home, and waiting.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieangstyaugust and follow along with the fun angst! 😭

#steddieangstyaugust #stranger things #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieangstyaugust

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sirfrogsworth · 4 months ago

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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

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