#it only works taking calls on speaker or with headphones

[satache]

I have had this busted phone for like 5 years… You can slow this piece of shit down as much as you like Apple I am not getting a new one until it literally explodes.

[b0ther]

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of  my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist. 

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen. 

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop. 

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine—”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all. 

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

[the-original-skipps]

|| When you move in together. || Wind Breaker ||

sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.

❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”

“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”

❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.

“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”

❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.

“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”

Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.

“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”

❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.

"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

***I'm giving something new a go. This is strictly through Simon's point of view as if he is directly talking to you; he is the only one speaking***

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

The jingle plays repeatedly until the video call connects and the image of you pops up the screen, laying on your side propped on your elbow as you seem to be just waking up for the day. A few stray rays of sunshine creep in from the side of the picture and shimmer through the strands of your hair so that even in your sleepy, disheveled state you still look like a painting. Simon keeps his camera off for the moment, but his voice comes through clear as day over the speakers; the connection is actually decent this time around. 

“Well ‘ello there gorgeous. Surprised to hear from me? It’s been a fuckin’ minute, hasn’t it? I know it’s pretty early there, but I finally have a bit of time now that everyone’s asleep and I wanted to see ya.”

Simon keeps his voice low and hushed, trying not to draw attention to himself as he lays in his cot in the dark, the only light coming from the screen of his phone. His earbuds are plugged in so that he can hear everything with keen precision while keeping the others in his team from listening, just in case. 

“You been doin’ alright there, luv? Keepin’ it all togetha for me till I get back? I know this time it’s been a bit longer, but it ain’t gonna be forever. I’ll be back before ya know it and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”

There’s a look on your face, something he immediately notices. A glint in your eye, a twitch of the corner of your mouth, a shift of your body as you adjust yourself under the sheets. Your texts to him over the past week, wondering when he would have time to actually call, were getting more and more desperate sounding and now reading your body language through the camera he is able to put it all together.

“Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart? Care ta tell me what it is? Or should I guess? Cause I think I ‘ave a pretty good idea ‘a what’s goin’ on.”

He watches you bite your lip as you look away, a heat blossoming in your cheeks that flushes throughout your face. There it is, the sign he’s looking for. There’s only two reasons why your cheeks flush like that and you aren’t known to be drinking this early in the morning.

“Are ya missin’ me real fuckin’ bad, is that it?”

You look back up into the camera and give a distinct nod. He understands it well, as he has been pining for you since the day he left. That’s the other reason he has been trying to find time to make this call: he’s been missing his girl real fucking bad and needs some special time with you and only you, even if it’s just for a short video chat now that he is on the tail end of his assignment and he doesn’t have to put as much focus into his work.

“Trust me, you ain’t the only one, sweetheart. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to fuckin’ see ya and there’s things I’ve been missin’ too: that pretty face a yours, wakin’ up next to ya layin’ in bed, the sound of your hummin’ comin’ from the kitchen as ya make breakfast…”

He trails off a moment with his thoughts as he lowers his voice until it’s barely above a whisper, leaning his lips into the microphone built into his headphones just in case any stray ears are listening in. Simon thought he’d be able to get through a bit of small talk before starting in on this stuff, but it seems like your need for each other cannot be contained once you’re in proximity. 

You get him riled up without even trying. He clears his throat and continues the thought. 

“...and if I’m real honest, I’ve been missin’ other things too. The more intimate things like you naked underneath me, the sensation of your legs wrapped ‘round my waist, makin’ those sweet little sounds whenever I hit the right spot. It’s been fuckin’ eatin’ me alive out here, not been able to take care of it. I swear every goddamn time I’m away from ya it’s like I can’t help thinkin’ about ya nonstop. Can ya blame me? I mean, look at ya, luv. You’re a goddamn dream. Christ, I’ve been gettin’ hard just thinkin’ ‘bout what I’m gonna do to all those gorgeous curves the fuckin’ minute I get back.” 

He can hear your already staggered breathing hitch and it makes him smile; it’s cute the way you are always so down bad for him. Just bringing up a few stray thoughts and a mention of his cock and you are already burning. But maybe you were burning a little before that too.

“That’s what you’re missin’ too, yeah? Havin’ me there with ya, doin’ what we do best? Ya don’t have to tell me, I know my sweet girl gets fuckin’ needy when I’m not ‘round to keep her satisfied. From the way you keep messaging me, trust me I know. Bet it’s been fuckin’ lonely there all by yourself; betcha been achin’ for somethin’ to help ya get some relief. I know ya don’t like usin’ your toy all the time…Is that why ya wanted me to call?”

You stutter out some objections, hoping not to sound too desperate as you don’t want him to think that’s the only reason to answer his call. Simon isn’t bothered by it one bit; he can tell you need something to take the edge off. He can always tell… and he wants to help.  

“Ya don’t have to hide it from me, luv. It’s clear as fuckin’ day; I’m already makin’ ya flustered, I can hear it as ya talk. Don’t think I forgot whatcha told me a while back. How ya like the sound ‘a my voice. Ya said it makes ya wet. Is that what ya need now, baby? Need me to talk ya through it and help ya get off?”

You squirm again under the covers, clearly trying not to make it obvious that you are rubbing your thighs together. Simon has barely started the dirty talk and already your body is responding to him in that most primal way. Who is he to deny his sweet thing of what she needs? 

“Yeah, that’s what ya want, isn’t it? To listen to my voice while ya touch yourself? Cause I really fuckin’ wanna give my pretty girl some extra attention right now. Make sure she doesn’t go without me even when I’m away. And if this is the only way I can do it, I wanna make sure ya come. I need to hear it again ‘fore I forget what it sounds like when ya orgasm ‘cause of me.”

Goddammit, Simon’s getting worked up just from talking about helping you get off, so much so that his cock begins to twitch in his pants and he has to adjust himself in the bed with a deep, muted grunt, pulling at the fabric at his crotch to give him more room to grow. He watches you get more excited at the prospect of having his attention, even if it’s only for as long as it takes for you to climax. Any bit of his attention makes you feel like the most gorgeous thing in the entire fucking world and that’s why he gives it all to you.

“But I need ya to do somethin’ for me in return. Somethin’ to help me help you. Can ya do that for me, baby?”

He watches as you nod your head up and down into the camera with enthusiasm, not even waiting to hear what it is he is going to ask you to do. Clearly, you would do anything for him, all he has to do is name it. God, he loves you needy for him, let’s him know that he is treating you right.

“I need ya ta sit up, push your computer to the edge of the bed, and angle the camera down for me. Lower. A little more, that’s it. Good girl. Now, take off the blanket and let me see whatcha got hidin’ under there.”

The computer is pushed further away so that your body is in full view and the camera is now pointed directly into your lap as you remove the blanket hiding your lower half, complying without a single word. Once free, your tank top catches his eyes as it hugs tightly to your breasts while your tiny, cotton sleep shorts leave almost all of your thighs exposed; Simon is eating up every last pixel that he can see. 

Those thick, juicy lower limbs of yours are his absolute favorite and if he could be there now he would already be between them. This is definitely a good idea.

“Wanna be able to see that you’re enjoyin’ listenin’ to me. Ya want me to see it, yeah? Wanna show me how much ya miss me, don’t ya? Course ya do, sweetheart. You’re too fuckin’ good to me. Always makin’ sure I get my fuckin’ fill of such ya; my pretty girl.” 

Simon puts a little extra breathiness into his voice, accentuating his gravelly tone to make you blush like crazy as that wetness gathers at your core. He’s gonna pull out all the stops tonight to make sure that you will be content… at least for the next few days. 

“I think we need a bit more, yeah. Get a real good view. Take off your pants and spread your legs nice and wide for me. Let me see that beautiful little pussy that I’ve been dreamin’ of. Just like that. Little wider; there ya fuckin’ go. O-oh fuck, looks like you’re already drippin’ for me.”

The light catches a faint glistening from the slit between your satiny petals and he can hardly find the air to fill his lungs as his mouth begins to salivate. Acting off of pure instinct, your hand travels down between your legs and almost reaches your cunt before he comes to his senses and scolds the action by snapping his fingers into the mic. 

“Ah, ah, I know you’re achin’ bad, but no touchin’, not till I fuckin’ say. Does my voice turn ya on that much ya can’t even wait for me to really get it goin’? I’ve barely even started and you’re already unable to stop yourself. I wanna make this good for the both of us, but I can’t do that if ya get ahead of yourself. Just breathe a minute.”

An idea pops into his head, fueled by the intense throbbing in the crotch of his pants. He hadn’t thought that he would be getting involved like this, it is risky given his current situation, but his body is saying otherwise. There’s no stopping him when you are giving him such a feast for his eyes to devour.

“Maybe ya just need an incentive to take it slow. Somethin’ to keep your ass in line. I got somethin’ for that, baby.”

The metallic sound of a zipper being undone and a sharp hiss of air between his teeth is heard over the call before the camera is turned on. Simon points the phone at his face for a moment and pulls up his mask slightly to give you a quick smirk before bringing it down to rest on his thighs as he points it straight at his lap. Through the dimness that surrounds him, the focus adjusts and through the opening created at the top of his pants that big fucking dick comes into full view on screen. 

A rush of adrenaline floods his limbs as he hears you inhale sharply, a stray ‘fuck’ escaping your lips at the sight of it throbbing into the palm of his hand. It is swollen at the tip and jumps with his pulse.

“This is all for ya, darlin’; no one else gets to have this fat fuckin’ cock all to themselves, ‘cept you. Have ya missed it? Missed seein’ how fuckin’ big I am? Yeah ya have; I bet your droolin’ over yourself, aren’t ya? Mmm… my horny little princess, always so hungry for me. Are your lips itchin’ to wrap themselves ‘round it now that ya see it after all this time? You remember how well ya gag on it, yeah? My hand on the back of your head, pushin’ ya down as far as ya can go, your spit dribblin’ from the corners of your mouth, can hardly catch a breath as ya choke...”

Simon has to stop and reel himself back in or risk getting too worked up and he can’t take care of you if he’s out of his goddamn mind. That imagery has you quaking and he can see your body vibrating as you are itching to touch yourself and that’s when he knows exactly what he is going to do to get you off. Taking a deep breath he clears his throat, putting the control over himself to the forefront of his thoughts and starts again.  

“Well, if ya wanna keep seein’ it, I need ya to behave for me and follow my direction. You and I are gonna play pretend for a bit.”

Now more settled he gives his length a stiff stroke up and down slowly, making sure that the camera is glued to his movements. You can’t look away; those big doe-eyes are locked on as if you are wishing you could reach through the screen and touch him with any part of you that you could get to it first. It takes you a couple of minutes to notice anything other than the object of your desire, but as you look up Simon’s dark gaze meets yours through the shadow. 

“Ya like this, yeah? Me strokin’ my cock like this for you to watch? Ya know what’s gonna be even better? How fuckin’ good it’ll feel havin’ it buried deep inside ya again, fillin’ ya to the brim. Ya wanna be full of me again, don’tcha sweetheart? Come on, show me, use your fingers and let me see how much ya miss this fat fuckin’ cock stretchin’ ya out.”

You insert a finger through the lips of your pussy, thrust it inside your entrance, and begin rhythmically stroking against that sensitive bundle as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen to watch Simon stroking it right along with you. He gives you a minute to get started before he speaks again.

“That’s not enough if ya wanna pretend it’s me, pretty girl, I think ya need another two fingers in there at least.”

Simon is trying to stay calm, but it is taking every ounce of his willpower to watch you touch yourself and not immediately blow his load while grunting loudly at the feeling of coming so fast; still, he tries to keep his voice down so no one near can hear him. Slowly you insert another digit and then another so that your first three fingers are now resting just inside your hole, but again that isn’t enough for him. He wants to make this as real as he can. 

“Ya need to go deeper, all the way to the knuckles. Ya know I like to fuckin’ have it down to the base until ya can’t take another inch. Need this to be accurate, like I’m really there with ya.”

You comply, pushing up inside you until the entirety of your fingers are gone and you cannot get anymore in. Simon moans deep in his chest, pleased at how well you are following his orders. It takes some force, but the stroking of his hand sticks to a steady rhythm as he sets the speed for what’s to come. 

“Good girl, that’s it. Now slow it down, keep it steady, and listen to my voice, ya got it? We are gonna do this together. I want ya ta picture me crawling into bed and movin’ right up against ya. My hand turns your head towards me so I can start kissin’ those fuckin’ sweet lips of yours. So warm, so soft, the longer I kiss ya the more I need until I run my fingers through your hair so that I’m holdin’ the back of your head in my grip as I shove my tongue nearly down your throat. I’ve been starvin’ baby and soon I have our mouths pressed so tight together ya can hardly breathe. Just eyes closed, tongues tasting each other, gettin’ absorbed in the way they feel until our mouth’s are fuckin’ raw and burnin’. Only then do I start goin’ down your jawline and neck, so much deliciously smooth skin for me to taste.”    

The sound of tiny, breathy moans hits his ears and his heart thumps heavily in his chest. He hadn’t lied when he spoke about how he misses your music and the sound of it now has him in a goddamn stranglehold. Mix that with the live feed of you thrusting your fingers in and out of your tight hole as the natural lubrication starts to drip down your fingers with each stroke and he has to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself sane.

“Gotta make sure you’re whinin’ and beggin’ me to give ya more before I move on. I’ll pull your top over your head so I can get at those gorgeous tits of yours. Fuck… gonna smother my face between them as I give them the care they need, kissin’ and bitin’ all that soft flesh to leave marks where I’ve been. Each one is gonna be in my mouth so I can use my tongue to flick ‘round your nipple as ya run your fingers through my hair to egg me on until ya can feel it in your clit.”

As he speaks he watches you fall back against the pillows and lift up your t-shirt to expose half of your chest. From this angle he catches a glimpse of the underside of one of your breasts, the edge of your nipple just within view before you cup it in your hand to massage the tissue against your palm and pinch the nipples as if you are trying to make his words come to life. 

“Can ya feel it baby? Can ya feel my hot fuckin’ mouth all over your tits? Christ, I swear I can taste them now; I want ‘em in my goddamn mouth so fuckin’ bad. Got my mouth waterin’.”

He has to swallow hard to stop himself from choking on his own saliva as his lips tingle, recalling the sensation of them against your skin as his hips begin to snap his cock up into his palm harder. 

“Ya know I’m gonna be so worked up that your not even gonna know what’s happening as I shove ya onto your back so that I can move down the bed and rip ya outta your fuckin’ pants. I need ya completely fuckin’ naked so that I can spread your thighs wide open. Gotta make sure I can get between them; wanna have plenty of space to play.”

Again you mimic his words, opening your already spread legs even wider the same way you’d have to do if he were to get in between them. If Simon’s heart thumps any faster it’s going to burst out of his chest; watching you act out this made up scenario is more erotic than he could have dreamed it would be.

“Imagine the feelin’ of my lips kissin’ up the length of those gorgeous thighs. With how much ya been missin’ me they’d already be so fuckin’ sensative that you’d be squirmin’ as soon as I make contact with my mouth. Maybe I’ll even give them a nibble, just for good measure. Ya always do look best wearin’ all my marks everywhere.”

His grip around his cock tightens as he listens close and catches your hummed reply before it sounds like your mouth falls open so that you moan a bit louder as your movements on screen begin to quicken and your hand switches positions to your other breast. Your fingers are starting to furiously pound into you, the pace picking up with each passing second as your desperation spills over at the sound of his voice describing all that fucking pleasure. But Simon is there to reel it all back in.

“Ah, ah, look up at me princess. Slow it back down there. That’s it, nice and steady for me. Don’t want this to be over too soon. Keep your eyes on my hand and follow my pace. We’re gonna get there together, alright?”

Picking your head up so that you can see the screen, your eyes focus on his hand and your strokes settle back to match his, though it does not go unnoticed how you do that little whimper of protest. It’s not easy being the bad guy in this situation, but Simon knows the more denial now, the harder you’ll come and the longer you’ll stay satisfied. And if there is one thing he will never stop doing is making sure his baby is satisfied. 

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweet thing. I promise we are almost there, just a bit more. Now, where was I? Oh yes, teasin’ those gorgeous thighs of yours. See I can’t move on until I’m happy with my work and I want those little red and purple blotches to be coverin’ all that pretty skin. Ya like when I claim ya like that? Makin’ it obvious that you’re mine? Anyone who sees that is gonna know that you’re bein’ taken care of.”

An open-mouthed moan and a nod of your head is all he’s getting now as you are too out of your mind to form words anymore at this point. Your half-lidded eyes gaze back at him as if you are trying to will him to come through the screen and pound you into the mattress; goddamn he’s going to fuck you so good when he gets back.

“Since I’ve decorated those beauties, I think they’ll need to be displayed and I can’t think of a fuckin’ better place than perched right on my shoulders. Besides, ya know what’s comin’ dontcha? That goddamn sweet little pussy has been callin’ to me since I got down there and now it’s finally time to give it the attention it deserves. Such a pretty thing, those soft petals of yours. You know I’m gonna have to give them a few kisses for good measure.”

Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad now the tastebuds along his tongue prickle as tries to capture that specific sweet, tangy taste in his memory. Why in the hell do you have to be so goddamn perfect?

“You will be pleadin’ with me, callin’ my name over and over until ya feel it. My warm tongue pushin’ itself against your lips and spreading them apart to move in between them. God, that first fuckin’ taste of ya is always my favorite, sweetheart…like goddamn honey. Gonna drag my tongue up the entire length of your cunt to make sure I get as much of ya in my mouth that I can. Then I reach your clit and that’s where I stay. I’ll be suckin’ and lickin’ to my hearts content while you buck against my face all you want; I like it when ya get rough with me. Nothin’ is gonna get me off of ya though, I got ya fuckin’ secured to my face with a tight grip that isn’t gonna let up no matter how ya move.”

The sound of you whimpering fills his ears and it makes his head feel like he’s floating. Your hips are bucking against your hand desperately and he knows you want to go a bit faster, but you are sticking to his set speed like a champ. He takes a couple of minutes to just watch you, wanting to etch this moment permanently in his brain, before he continues.

“I’m waitin’ for it, that moment ya go silent. That’s when I know it’s about to happen and I brace myself to feel your thighs crush against my head and block in my ears like a vice as ya come on my tongue. Do ya know how much I fuckin’ love when ya do that? Bein’ locked to your pussy like that, I would fuckin’ suffocate on ya and not even think twice. Keep me strapped to ya as long as ya want, baby, I’m gonna sit through it all until ya have nothin’ more to give to me. My tongue don’t tire easily, as ya already know.”

Your head falls back, but Simon can still hear you clearly repeating mindlessly your enjoyment of everything that he is talking about with moaned ‘yes’s and whined pleas to Jesus. 

“Can ya picture it? Me sittin’ back up, your cum all across my face? I will probably look like a wild beast with my mouth shimmerin’ and sticky, but I don’t fuckin’ care. Ya make me feral, so deranged that nothin’ else matters ‘cept you. Everything will go faster then: me gettin’ to my knees, pullin’ your hips onto my thighs as your legs still sit on my shoulders, my tip pressin’ against those damp petals covered in my spit and your cum. Eatin’ ya out gets me hard enough there’s no need to wait. Imagine the way it’ll feel when I’m pushing my tip through the threshold and stretching ya out completely. You’ll be cryin’ out as I help ya fit me all in…right down, all the way, fillin’ that cunt.” 

He’s panting now, the vision created in his mind so vivid that as he stimulates himself it feels too real. Of course his hand would never compare to your pussy, but with everything happening it is as if his brain is being tricked into believing that he is fucking you.

“Ya know I ain’t gonna waste anytime, not when I get ya wrapped ‘round me. It’ll be so wet and tight that I just begin poundin’ and poundin’ so hard that it has our bed squeakin’ underneath us from the fuckin’ force, slammin’ into the wall, makin’ your tits bouncing up and down as I go all in, your eyes waterin’ as get so fuckin’ deep it’s almost painful. Goddammit, baby, I want to see your eyes roll back in your head as it overwhelms ya.” 

His abs are clenching, simulating the act in real time as his limbs begin to feel heavy and the coil inside his stomach tightens. Heat is now rushing through his veins like hot water, making him warm from the inside out and it only fuels his imagination more.

“Or maybe I flip ya over and help ya up onto your knees, pullin’ outta only long enough to get ya situated holding onto the wall. Visualize me tuggin’ your hair in my fist to make your back arch so I can thrust right back in. Ya better make sure ya got a steady brace cause I’m gonna reach ‘cross your body and down the front of ya to that swollen clit, strokin’ it with my fingers as I thrust into ya from behind and I need ya to push back onto me. I wanna be able to whisper in your ear all them filthy things like how no one else can make my cock feel this good and how this pussy belongs to only me.”

It’s too much, too much buildup that he is not going to be able to hold off for very much longer. This is going to have to end one way or another and soon it is not going to be a choice anymore. His hand picks up the pace. 

“Go a little faster. That’s it, faster, baby, faster. I’m about to fuckin’ blow and your gonna come with me. Come on, come on… f-fuck… you’re so beautiful like this. No one looks better a fuckin’ mess than you do. And I wanna make ya so goddamn filthy baby. Where ya gonna want me to come, hmm? On your face, on your tits, your stomach… or maybe I won’t pull out at all. Stuff ya full until it’s drippin’ outta ya and I can watch once I’m done. You just imagine it where ya want it most, sweetheart.”

His hand is furiously stroking around his cock with an iron tight grip, running from tip to base, coating his hand in precum so that the next stroke is even smoother than the last. Faint whines escape his closed lips as he tries to stifle the sound by clamping his mouth shut. The entirety of his chest feels like it’s on fire and setting the phone down a second he rips the damned t-shirt he still has on up off his torso and over his head, only releasing his cock for the split second it takes to throw it off that arm and onto the floor. Quickly he grabs the phone and sets it back up. 

“You’re close, yeah? Ya got this, just keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes and stay with it. All ya gotta do now is just let go. Good girl, that’s it, let go for me. Come for me, baby, let me hear it.”

Simon watches your thighs shaking and toes curling into the mattress as you call out his name in a pitiful cry and your entire body vibrates, nearly shooting off the bed as you come and come hard. The welling of pressure deep inside him reaches its peak and with the sound of your cry it causes his body to clench, sending him rocketing over the edge violently as a muted grunt echoes in his chest. He angles is cock upward towards his stomach as the warm ejaculate pumps out of his tip, coating the muscles and hair along his abdomen as he milks himself through it until he has no more cum left to release.   

Vision hazy, legs vibrating, cock still twitching as his grip loosens, Simon takes a few minutes to simply breathe. The phone gets ignored for a moment as it lays resting on his thigh. Once he is able to calm enough to function, he picks back up the device and stares into the screen. You are laying flat on the mattress now, chest heaving up and down. Your legs are still splayed open and he can see the glorious product that he helped create catching the light as it coats the outside of your lips.  

“Fuck, ya did so well for me, sweetheart. God, that was fuckin’ fantastic.”

You roll to your side and look into the camera with a crooked, sleepy smile and he mimics it with one of his own. That should be all, everything that he had wanted to happen had in the best way, but there’s one thing he has left to do, one thing he wants to see before he lets you go. One last thing to replay in his mind to give him something to daydream about along with the rest.

“Bring the camera up closer, wanna see your beautiful face all flushed. There’s my sweet girl. Looks like I’ve made a mess of things for ya, but I don’t think ya mind much. I do want ya to do one more thing for me, though. I need ya ta clean up since I ain’t there to do it myself. Nothin’ too strenuous, just take your fingers and stick ‘em in your mouth; get all those juices off with your tongue. There ya go, lick ‘em clean, don’t ya waste any of that fuckin’ goodness.”

You do exactly as he says, using your tongue to pull your fingers between your lips where you suck and lick with gusto until they come back out completely clean and you show them to him with a smile. In that moment you are a goddess, the most gorgeous being he has ever laid his eyes upon, and Simon can only stare on at you in awe that he is so fucking lucky to have such a creature all to himself. 

“Fuck, I’m one lucky bastard,”  he says, barely audible.

There’s a bit of rustling that he can hear now coming from somewhere close and he knows his time is up. At least he got to finish what he started giving you everything that he can, though he does desperately wish he could stay on the call with you a bit longer, but he knows if he doesn’t end it now he might never do it and he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing you like this. Gotta pull the bandaid off quick or else. 

“Hate to end this here, but it seems like our time is up. Wish I could stay, but ya know how it is. If I don’t go now I ain’t ever gonna do it. We’ll talk again soon, promise. You have a good day, pretty girl, alright? Dream of me later tonight, yeah? Cause I’m fixin’ to be dreamin’ of you.”

You blow him a kiss and with that the call ends; he is left back alone in the silence of the night in his bunk- alone. He grins to himself as he puts his phone away and cleans himself up, thinking about you laying back in bed exhausted, but content, all because of him and his efforts. And he wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’ll get the chance to get you off like this again before his deployment ends. 

God he fucking hopes so.

[beautifulpaprika]

Party Next Door; Jungkook

pairing: fem!reader x jungkook

warnings: smut, a cool massage

summary: Every Thursday is a struggle. The neighbor is constantly disturbing the peace with loud music. But Y/N has had enough and decides to go over there herself, but she sets herself up for failure when the owner turns out to be beautiful. Her hatred and annoyance towards him turns into a need.

word count: 4.7k

My head is a jumbled mess. I’ve tried headphones, my own speakers, going to the furthest corner of my room, but nothing can drown away the noise next door. Every Thursday night is a hassle to work. I’ve never met the party animal neighbor, but no matter how many times I call the police on them, they don’t seem to care. 

Music seeps into my living room, interrupting my work. It’s not exciting by any means, but I would like to finish it before midnight. 

I hear yelling from across the way. It’s the last straw before I decide that I’ll take care of it myself. 

The music is even louder in the hall, itching my brain and raising my irritation. I raise my fist and knock, no, bang on the door, trying my best to make it louder than the music and chatter. 

The attempt is a failed one when no one answers the door. I try once again. And one more time.

Nothing. 

A stomping up the stairs causes me to turn to a small group approaching me. The man at the front, who seems to be the leader, gives me a strange look before walking past me and opening the door. 

I watch them walk in. No knocking. No banging on the door. All I had to do was turn the knob.

“Thanks,” I yell at them, only to get no response. 

The frustration dwells for a moment before I go back to focusing on the main task. Finding the owner of this place and giving him a piece of this. My mind. Not my body. 

“Excuse-” the woman ignores me, walking into the living room and sitting next to others who seem to be enjoying a game of ‘Spin the Bottle’. “Can you tell me-” another man ignores me. This is a very welcoming group. 

“You look lost,” the voice is behind me now. A woman smiles at me, a drink in hand. 

“Is it obvious?” I ask her, my vocal chords rasping at how loud I have to be over the music. She simply shrugs as a response. “I’m looking for the person who owns the place,” I tell her.  She nods in understanding. 

“Jungkook? He’s out on the balcony, but I wouldn’t recommend disturbing him. He’s snippy,” she takes a sip of her drink, still making eye contact with me over the rim. It’s a bit intimidating, but I’m grateful for the information nonetheless. 

“Thanks!” I head to the balcony, the apartment has the same layout as mine. I peek out of the blinds blocking the party from the outside. A man lounges on his lawn chair, his legs spread out and a drink in his hand. His eyes are open and touching the sky. There’s hardly any light, the balcony sitting in an alleyway. I almost forgot that I was here on a mission - his beauty a distraction. Maybe the police didn’t want to say anything to him. 

I fling myself back to my cause, sliding the door open and stepping out. 

He doesn’t spare a single glance at me. 

“Are you the owner of this place?”

“Who’s asking?” he still does not look at me. 

“The neighbor,” my irritation rises at the lack of eye contact. 

“Yeah. I am. What about it?” he takes a loud sip of his drink, his eyes closing for a moment before opening again. 

“Your music's too loud. The people in this place are too loud,” I tell him. I figure laying it out now is better than beating around the bush. Especially when it comes to this guy. 

“Ignore it,” he says matter-of-fact. I’m not sure what I expected when I came over here, but the attitude catches me off guard. I scoff then look around. I’m not sure what I’m looking for - maybe some help? 

“I’ve tried. Several times,” my arms cross in an effort to show that I won’t let this slide no matter how much he avoids eye contact and suggests I ignore it. 

He closes his eyes, sighs, and finally his eyes glide down to meet mine. The stare stops my heart for a second. His eyes are intimidating, but there can be no mistake at what he’s looking at because his glance is hard and purposeful. 

“You’re the one who’s been calling the cops on me, aren’t you?” he asks. 

I don’t answer. Instead, I look out onto the city not wanting to expose myself for being a wet rag. Normally, it wouldn’t matter and I would have confessed, but I’m more out of place here, making it easier to be intimidated. He stands. His boots are like bombs as he steps in front of me. His face hovering over me.

“If the police didn’t work, what makes you think I would listen to you?” He whispers. I try not to focus on his breath smelling like a mix of mint and alcohol. It’s intoxicatingly good and annoying. 

“I thought,” I make sure to make direct eye contact, “that if you had a bit of empathy and compassion,” I put emphasis on ‘compassion’, “you might consider others who are around you.” 

He says nothing, only narrows his eyes. Those same eyes glide from my face, then slide down my body. Heat rushes from my head to my toes, reaching my core. 

“Are you gonna say something or keep looking at me like that?” I don’t know what possesses me to say it, but it makes him chuckle. “Some of us have work to do,” I continue. 

“I’m not turning down the music, do whatever you want with that,” he turns to sit back in his seat. My blood boils, but not from desire anymore. “I’d like to go back to my peace and quiet if you don’t mind,” he lounges back and his eyes close, facing the sky. 

Peace and quiet? With all this noise inside? Oh no, no, no.

I pull the extra red lawn chair to sit beside him, lounging back. 

“Does that look like the door to you?” he asks, his shoulders stiff now and his eyes wide open. I lean back taking in the chilly night air, adjusting myself to get comfortable. 

“We all want peace and quiet, sir. Even me,” I throw him a pointed look. “I don’t give you yours until you give me mine.”

“Fine,” he says. He doesn’t argue anymore, still not giving in. It’s a matter of who can last the longest now. 

***

My attempt fails as the next Thursday the music seeps right through the cracks of my apartment and into my ears. I breathe in, then out and pack my laptop. I sit with him on the balcony again until the music dies then return home. 

And the next Thursday, it happens again and I make my way over with my laptop once more.

It takes one minute for me to leave my apartment, step into his, and out onto the balcony. Jungkook is there in the same spot as last week and the week before. He glances at me then back up to the sky. 

“Me again!” I cheer. 

“Yay. . .” his voice is dead.

I take a seat in the same red chair I did before. 

“I brought some entertainment this time so I might last a bit longer,” I gesture to my laptop. “Hope you don��t mind.” He definitely minds. 

I put on a video of someone playing a horror game. I don’t know the person, I’ve never watched the person, or a horror game for that matter, but my hope is the noise will be enough to annoy him. 

He doesn’t say anything when it plays and his body language doesn’t change either. 

“So, how come your party is inside but you’re always out here?” I ask, filling some of the awkwardness. 

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“My question is more important to me,” I close the laptop and face him fully. I can’t place the emotion on his face when I do. It’s a mix of surprise and confusion. “I can only assume this,” I gesture to the party going on inside, “is not going to stop any time soon,” he grins at that, seemingly proud, “we might as well get to know each other a bit.”

“I preferred when you were watching your videos.”

“We can’t always get what we want. No matter how intimidating we might be,” I make sure to murmur the second part. The roll of his eyes tells me he heard it anyways. “Fess up. Why are you not in there?” I lean in to show my interest. It did strike me as strange the first time that the person throwing the party wasn't participating in it. 

He stays silent, the sound of a few cars and people yelling on the street taking his voice’s place. 

“Come on! Who am I gonna tell? Your sweet and kind friends in there?” he chuckles at that at least. 

“I don’t want to party,” he says, shrugging. His answer confuses me even more. 

“Are you sure?” I raise an eyebrow, “‘Cause the parade in your apartment says otherwise,” I laugh. 

“They’re background noise,” he looks off into the distance now. “The music, the talking, the games. It’s all background noise,” his head leans back, smiling when a group cheers inside. 

Background noise? My Thursday night is sacrificed every week for background noise? He doesn’t even enjoy the party? 

“But . . . you’re giving up your space. You know there are an infinite amount of videos online that actually allow you to have a noise similar to thi-”

“I don’t want the video,” he snaps. I blink at him. “It’s not the same,” he goes back to his normal tone. “It doesn’t fill the space. What’s the point of this big apartment if I’m the only one in it,” he looks back into the city and there’s a voice in my head telling me not to press further. This isn’t about background noises, I realize. This is about loneliness. 

“You could fill the space with someone else. Someone you care about and cares for you in return,” I suggest. He scoffs at that. 

I’ve chosen the wrong words. 

“Yeah? Simple as pie. “Find someone who cares for you.”” he mocks. “Give me a fucking break,” his hand lifts to chew on his nail. It’s a habit that I used to have. It brings back memories of all the feelings I used to have that resulted in me biting down. 

I get up, and grab his wrist away from his mouth. 

“That’s not healthy, you know?” I tell him. He’s frozen, stuck in the same position as before I pulled his hand away, then his eyes finally move to look up at mine.

Before I can say anything, I’m planted in his lap, my legs draped over his, his arms wrapped around my middle. My mouth opens ready to scream when I his nose grazes my neck, his breath brushing it and the top of my collarbone. I can’t say anything.  There’s words but they’re stuck in my throat unable to escape as an effect of the sensation I feel from his fingers grazing the skin under my shirt. 

“Maybe you should be the one to take care of me. You’re already telling me what to do,” his fingers move up to graze my cheek and push me to face him. His eyes are hooded when he looks up at me. It’s the perfect angle to kiss him.

Kiss him?

Kiss him?

I push myself up out of his lap, broken from the trance he put over me. 

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask. It’s a rhetorical question, because no matter what the answer is, it can’t be reasonable. I scoop my laptop up making my way to the sliding door.

I step inside. I squeal when a body collides into mine, the sudden feeling of a cold drink spilling down the front of my shirt. 

“Woah! We got a spillage!” the man laughs. There’s heat rising to my brain, having the urge to take me thankfully safe laptop and break it over that empty dome sitting on his neck. “She’s feisty, too,” he purrs. My eyes narrow in an attempt to fend him off. “I haven’t seen you around here,” he leans in, grabbing me by the waist. 

“Buzz off,” I’m able to push him off due to his sloshed state. I’m able to evade him, but a body pushes past me. The same figure grabs the drunk man by the neck and drags him to the front door, chucking him out and down the stairs. I blink at Jungkook who seems more pissed now that he can’t even look at me. 

He retreats to the balcony without another glance at me.

***

This Thursday there is no music. No yelling. Only complete silence. This is what I have been wanting for weeks, yet keep opening my door a smidge to peek at someone who might pop up ready for a party. 

I even start to pace from the living room, to kitchen, to dining room, to kitchen, to dining room. I’m growing restless at the silence. Why now? Why is it quiet the week after he almost kissed me. It’s a scene I play over and over in my head. I’m trying to answer questions like why he would do it. Why is he radio silent afterward? Why am I obsessing over a man I met three weeks ago? 

My instinct pushes me to check outside of the door again, but before I reach for the doorknob a piece of paper slides under my door. I unfold it to look at the words scribbled on the lines:

I know there’s no music. 

But it breaks my heart that you haven’t come to visit. 

J

I scold my racing heart at the words.

But he’s inviting me this time- a funny way of putting it- but inviting me nonetheless. 

I  remind myself that this could not be anything romantic. Maybe he’s remorseful. If my mother could see me now pining over a man I’ve talked to twice.

But I can’t get that near kiss out of my head. I haven’t been touched in that manner since high school and the fact that it was unexpected adds to my anticipation.

My pajamas are exchanged for a skirt and a tank top. Nothing wrong with a bit of seduction.

I take the risk of humiliating myself and open the door to walk over to his apartment. When I swing the door open I’m surprised to find he’s already standing outside of his door.  His head whipping away, his throat clearing. 

“Were you . . .” I pause, “Did you have your ear on the door?” I tease. 

He avoids eye contact with me. “I was wondering what time you were going to come over,” he clears his throat again, his face transforming from panicked to stoic. 

“I-” 

“My apartment’s empty,” his voice is back to a calm tone. 

“I noticed,” I laugh. His lips pucker and he looks from my lips, to my eyes, to my lips, to my eyes. It makes me nervous. 

“Not that I wanted you to be there in the first place, but if you’re not busy, you could be my background noise.” 

I dwell on his invitation. 

“You don’t want me there? But,” I hold the note up, “this says I’ve broken your heart,” I point to the exact words. 

His eyes narrow on the lined paper, then he shakes his head.

“I don’t remember any of this,” he turns and walks back to his apartment before I get to defend myself. 

I follow him in, now fully able to look around his place without people in the way. The quiet is unsettling considering that each time I’ve walked into this apartment, I’ve mentally prepared myself and my ears for speaker breaking bass. 

The apartment feels as if no one lives here. There are no pictures or decorations that display any hobbies. I wonder how much time he spends here by himself. Most of it must be time spent cleaning after those Thursdays. 

He walks towards his living room and throws himself on the couch, his head on the armrest. I follow soon after and stand near the wall next to the couch waiting for him to instruct me to do something. 

His eyes open. 

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do,” I admit. “This is strange being here and not having hooligans yelling around us. 

He laughs. One would think he would be angry that I called his friends hooligans, but I know now those were not his friends. 

“Do what you would normally do,” he gestures to the coffee table. “Do work, watch horror videos. Do whatever you want. I just need a bit of noise,” he says nonchalantly, but all I’m hearing is “I like you as background noise more than the parties.” It could be my ego thinking that, regardless, my heart is racing. 

He follows my moves as I sit on the floor and place my laptop on the coffee table. He relaxes by throwing his head back again. 

***

I groan at the pains in my neck and shoulders. 

Jungkook sits up, tilting his head at me. 

“I should probably go.” It’s been about an hour and we’ve been exchanging a few words here and there.  It’s pleasant. What is not so pleasant is the horrible pain on my lower back from sitting on the floor. 

“If you want, I can massage your back there for you,” he offers. It catches me off guard. He pats the cushion, gesturing for me to come up with him. 

The words “No, thank you,” are on the tip of my tongue, but he offered so quickly, it makes me think he doesn’t want me to go. Again . . . ego. 

Instead, I rise up onto the couch, my back facing him. 

“Thank you, I guess,” I say, scolding myself for letting my voice waver. The thought of his hands on me is intoxicating. I can’t say I haven’t thought about them since the night he snuck one underneath my shirt. 

“I guess?” he chuckles, the sound right in my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine, awakening every nerve in my body. 

“Well, it’s strange -oh!” his thumbs dig into my lower back. The sensation is wonderful. It’s more than I could imagine. “You’re being very nice today compared to the snippy personality that shows itself,” he laughs at that too. 

“I can be nice if I want to,” his hand sneaks under my shirt again and I jolt at his warm skin rubbing mine. “I can be as nice as you want me to be,” his voice is low now. There’s an ache growing at my core. No. No! I am not getting horny over this man. This one man that I have barely had time to get to know. 

Those same, enticing hands glide up my sides, relaxing me into him. It doesn’t help that he smells like mint again with something stronger this time. It’s difficult not wanting to fall into him. 

“You can lean back,” he says, reading my mind. 

Reject him, Y/n. Reject him!

“Sure. It’s been a while since I relaxed. You know, work, work, work,” I joke trying to ease the tension, but instead it comes off awkward. He hums in acknowledgement - the vibrations from his chest massaging my shoulders leaning onto him now. 

This is paradise. I mean, there are big flashing red lights going off in my head, but I can’t deny that it also feels like I’m in the clouds - soaring high above the city and no one else can see me while I parade around giddy and relaxed at the same time.

His fingers still dig into my sides and when he massages into my lower back again, I involuntarily let out a moan. 

We both freeze. I look up at him, his face a few inches from mine. He’s looking straight ahead then finally moves his head to look at me. There’s a hood over his eyes. He blinks once, then twice. 

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You should stay tonight,” he interrupts. I can’t believe it’s possible to catch me off guard again after having done it a million times already, but I am. 

“Why should I do that?” I whisper. I already know the answer. Of course, I know the answer. But I want to hear it from his mouth. 

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes glide to my lips sending goosebumps to every inch of skin. 

But then he laughs and it sends me spiraling. His eyes move off of my face for a moment before coming back and into my eyes. 

“You know, last week,” his hands move again now gliding to my thighs, and I’m the one who breaks eye contact, “when that guy was putting his hands on you after I just had you in my lap,” his hands slide up and down, massaging the inside and outside of my thighs, “I couldn’t stand it,” his face lowers to my neck. 

“Jungkook,” I sigh.

“I was frustrated and pissed off. Not only because I just had you in my lap, but I was also frustrated that I couldn’t understand,” his nose traces a line from the bottom of my neck to my ear. “Why did I want you so badly?” I gasp when his hands push my thighs apart. “I was going to figure that out tonight - in the most innocent way possible. Then you come here in that fucking skirt,” I moan when his hand moves inside my skirt tracing patterns on the inside of my thighs and take a bit of pride that the outfit worked. 

“I wore it for you,” I admit. 

“God, don’t say that, Y/N,” his fingers finally land on my middle, sneaking underneath my underwear. “I’m already painfully hard,” he whispers, before slipping a finger inside of me. I moan out, my back arching and pushing my head into his shoulder. His lips are still hovering over my neck, but not quite touching it. 

I slide my hand up, around his neck, and into his soft hair. I push him closer to me and he gives me what I want. His kisses trail from my shoulder, pulling my tank top sleeve down, to my ear. 

His fingers move inside me for a couple more seconds before pulling them out. I take the opportunity to move from my position to turn and straddle him. I can feel how “painfully hard” he is when I settle my hips onto him, a small groan escaping when I do. 

“I need to be honest,” I tell him while locking my fingers behind his neck, “I haven’t done this in a while, so forgive me if I seem inexperienced,” he pulls me closer by my ass, causing some friction between us. 

He leans in, his lips centimeters from mine. I hold in my breath waiting for a kiss. 

“You don’t have to do anything but enjoy it,” he leans in, starting with a peck, then giving me a real kiss. His hands sneak under my tank top,  pulling it up. We break when he pulls it off of me. He rushes to unclasp my bra from behind me and pushes his hips into me when it finally comes off. 

My brain is melted at this point. He’s almost panting underneath me and I can feel his desperation. There’s a want and a need that I’ve never experienced and it makes this all the more exciting. 

“Your turn,” I whisper, tugging at his shirt then pulling it over his head. I’m not surprised when I uncover the chiseled chest and abs, but it does make me want him more (not that I knew it was possible). 

I flip the tables and put my lips on his neck. He sighs and puts his hands on my ass again, rocking me into him. I moan over the hickey I left and come back up to kiss him, but he has other plans. I squeal when he lifts me up walking towards the balcony and opening the door.

“Wait, wait!” I hold my hand out to stop him from going out there while carrying me - a half naked woman! “What are you doing?” I panic. 

“We’re finishing this on the place I started it,” he’s so nonchalant about it as if he isn’t suggesting something illegal. 

“Are you out of your mind? There are people out there,” I scold. He gives me a look. 

“It’s an alleyway, the only people who come through here are other people who want to have sex,” he explains, but I can’t help the paranoia settling in my stomach. It’s a bit exciting, I’ll admit, but I can’t say this is sensible. 

He must notice the worry on my face when he closes the door. 

“Alright, compromise,” he sets me down on the ground, and I’m worried I’ve disappointed him and he’s going to kick me out. Instead, he pulls his jeans down with his boxers, throwing both of them somewhere behind him. My eyes widen on his dick. What have I gotten myself into? 

“We won’t go on the balcony,” his hands grab the back of my thighs and I squeal when he lifts me again, wrapping my legs around him, the only barrier being my underwear, “we’ll stay right here,” he presses my back against the glass door, the cold making me arch my boobs into him. 

I’m ready to reject this idea as well, but I can’t get a word out when his mouth falls onto one of my nipples. 

“Jungkook, oh God,” I cry out when his ministrations continue as he grinds into me. 

“That skirt stays on,” he demands. I quickly nod. 

He pulls away from my chest, flipping my skirt up and pushing my underwear to the side. With a little effort, we adjust ourselves, his dick sliding into me. My head rests on the glass door as a groan leaves him. 

“I knew you’d feel amazing,” he sighs. I pull his face into my neck as he pushes into me. I slide up and down the glass door but I don’t mind how it feels. It’s not my focus. 

Nothing could have prepared me for what this feels like. I’ve fantasized over and over ever since he pulled me into his lap last week, but I never anticipated that it would be this delicious. 

“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about this,” he whispers, catching me off guard. But it only takes one thrust to get my brain to malfunction again. 

The door and one of his arms supports me when his face pulls away from my neck but is replaced with his inked hand. A pathetic whine escapes when his fingers apply pressure to the sides of my neck.

“Jungkook, please,” I rasp. His breath is shaky when I clench around him, my release on the way.

“I’m almost there. But I want to come together, understand?” I nod my head. “On the count of three. . . three,” he whispers, thrusting in, “two,” thrust,”one,” our highs are synced, his hand applying more pressure as I come around him. 

Our breathing is synced as he pulls out of me and sets me on the ground. I can’t leave when his body leans onto mine, my back still pressed on the door. 

“Normally, the background noise doesn’t stop until later,” He breaths into my neck. “You might have to stay for a while longer to fulfill the background noise quota,” I laugh. His face comes up to meet mine, while massaging my sides and ass. “Stay the whole night this time,” he offers. 

“One condition.”

“Anything,” he whispers on my lips. A shiver rushes down every nerve. 

“No more parties,” I tell him. A smile paints his beautiful face. 

“No more,” he lifts me up again and carries me to his bedroom.

“You can’t just carry me everywhere!” I yell.

“You weren’t complaining earlier,” and he throws me on the bed- our night filled with getting to know each other and other noises filling the space.  

[hitlikehammers]

take the call

rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)

set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️

Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.

And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.

He gets a message.

“Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.

“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”

He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.

Maybe, maybe scared.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.

“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—

“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:

“She found the phone at a car crash?”

So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.

“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—

“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—

“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“

Green.

Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—

“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—

He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—

“Where?”

_______________________

Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.

Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.

But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—

Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.

He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—

Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…

Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.

They were—

Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…

He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.

Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—

Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—

And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.

Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.

Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.

Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.

It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.

If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.

So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—

“Eddie?”

He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—

He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.

“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:

“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—

“Are you okay?”

And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…

It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.

Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;

“Am I okay?”

Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—

“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.

“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—

“Are you real?”

Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.

He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.

“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“

“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.

Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.

No one.

Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.

“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.

“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“

Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.

Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.

Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.

“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.

Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?

Eddie also has some fucking questions.

“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.

Steve blinks, frowns a little:

“It got lost in the crash—“

“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—

“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“

And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.

Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.

Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.

And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—

He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:

“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:

“They called the studio.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—

“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”

And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast

“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“

“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”

Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.

Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.

“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:

“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:

“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:

“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.

“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.

“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”

Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:

“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”

“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:

It’s the same for me.

And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.

“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”

“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:

“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:

“Not ever.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

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[sirfrogsworth]

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.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Checkmate

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, murder, fearful for your life, psycho ex

Summary: You work as a maid for the richest and most eligible bachelor. You go to his mansion twice a week and clean his house, and you make pretty good money doing it. The only issue? Your psycho ex, but Dean shows you that he might be just a tad worse than Isaac.

Square Filled: maid au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Another day, another eight hours spent in this mansion. This is a place you can never see yourself living in only because you can’t ever think to make as much money as your boss does. From what you know, he’s the CEO of two companies, has investments in other places, and is just really smart about managing his money. You don’t see him often since he spends most of his time in his office or not at the house at all, but he did hire you to clean his mansion. He pays you generously, more than you have ever made in your life, twice even.

He’s very generous but you hear he’s a cold-hearted bitch. He’s the most respected and most eligible bachelor this state has ever seen, but he can be as cold as ice. You’ve walked past his office before and have overheard him yelling at people more than once. You do not want to be on the receiving end of that cold stare, so it’s best if you keep your head down and clean as best as you can without getting in his way.

You walk into the kitchen carrying five bouquets of bright and colorful flowers. Dean doesn’t like to keep color in his mansion--only black, gray, and white--so the flowers stand out beautifully. He doesn’t seem to mind since they don’t move once you put them up. Before you get started cleaning, you replace the old flowers with the new ones and toss the old ones into the trash.

Normally, you connect your speaker to your phone and use music to pass the time, but you promised to call your best friend once you got here because of what happened last night. You grab the cleaning cart from the closet and start with the kitchen, and you call your best friend on FaceTime. It’s better than keeping the phone to your ear or putting in uncomfortable headphones in your ear.

“Bitch, you will never guess who just sent me a DM,” Gen says when she answers.

“Who?”

“Isaac.”

“What did he say?”

“What do you think? You rejected him last night and he thinks coming to me is the next best thing.”

Isaac used to be your boyfriend. You were blind to the red flags in the beginning of the relationship because you thought you were in love with him. He said all the right things, did all the right things, and made you feel special. He complimented you all the time, showed you off to all of his friends, and never laid a merciful hand on you.

That is, until about a year into the relationship. The red flags became so apparent that you couldn’t ignore them any longer. He became possessive, jealous, controlling, and more violent. He has never hit or slapped you, but he has grabbed you hard enough to leave bruises on your arms. You broke it off a month ago but the bitch won’t stay away from you.

He keeps showing up at your house telling you to come home and that you’re being overdramatic. He’s there when you go get coffee in the morning. He’s there when you visit your sister (he’s friends with her husband). He’s there even in your nightmares. You’re shocked he hasn’t shown up at your work. You’re not sure how Dean would take to having someone like Isaac in, on, or around his property.

“The best thing to do is ignore him. He’ll go away,” you sigh.

“I don’t think so. He was pretty adamant about getting in touch with you. My husband would have kicked his ass if he came over.”

You wipe down the counters with a sigh.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

“I think you should call the police.”

You roll the cart into the living room and get started dusting the surfaces.

“He hasn’t trespassed onto your property, though. What will they do?”

“He’s harassing you, Y/N. He keeps coming to your house uninvited. That’s trespassing. He was bad enough as your boyfriend, but now he’s crossing the line into psycho territory. He hurt you, Y/N. The bruises may be gone but those emotional scars are still there.”

You replace the duster and stand in the living room in thought. She does have a point but the bruises are long gone. That’s physical evidence you don’t have to use against him. He hasn’t laid a hand on you since the breakup. What will the police do?

“Yeah, I know but they won’t do anything if he hasn’t done anything. If he does, I’ll make sure to call you.”

“Yeah, I’ll fuck him up.”

You giggle at her eagerness. “I gotta go. Got lots to clean.”

“Yeah, for the hot bachelor.”

“Him being hot has nothing to do with him being a bachelor.”

“Still, you’re lucky to see that all day.”

“I rarely see him. He stays in his office all day which I’m not allowed in, by the way. If he’s not in there, he’s at his office building in town.”

“You’re single and he’s single. I’d tap that if I were you.”

“Imagine if Isaac found out. He’d kill Dean.” You roll the cart into the bathroom. “I gotta go, though.”

“Call me later.”

“Will do.”

Like you told Gen, you don’t see Dean the entire day. If it weren't for the initial interview you had with him and the short passings you’ve shared with him, you wouldn’t think he’s real. There is one thing that Gen got right. The man is hot. Gorgeous, even. If you two saw each other at a bar, you’d definitely be trying to take him home. Bright green eyes, tank skin, freckles, bow legs, and muscles for days. The man is the whole package.

After doing your eight hours, the sun is already going down. You leave the invoice for Dean on the kitchen counter as he requests before returning the cleaning cart and packing up your things. You walk across Dean’s lawn to get to your car but pause when you see someone standing in your way.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hiss at your ex. “How did you know where I work? How did you get past the fence?”

“I know everything about you, baby. I’m here to see if you’re done being dramatic.”

“Being dramatic? You’re a psycho!”

“I call that determination.”

“Okay, Isaac, I need you to leave. We broke up and this is highly inappropriate. Plus, Dean isn’t going to be happy when he finds you loitering on his property.”

“Who the fuck is Dean?”

“Isaac, please leave. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you in my life anymore. Show up uninvited again, and I will call the police.”

You try to walk past him but Isaac isn’t taking no for an answer. He grabs your arm so tightly you think there will be bruises there tomorrow. 

“If I were you, I’d get your hand off her.”

You and Isaac turn to see Dean standing about twenty feet away.

“Who the fuck are you?” Isaac snaps.

“The fuck person who owns this property. Get your hands off her.”

Isaac listens and you move your arm to get the blood flowing again.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s go home.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you. Just leave me alone.”

“Are you deaf? No means no.”

“No offense, dude, but she’s mine, okay?”

“Not on my property, she isn’t.” Dean narrows his eyes.

“Your property?”

“Yes, touch her again and I’ll decorate your remains across it.”

“Whatever,” Isaac scoffs. “Call me when you’re done being dramatic.”

Isaac turns and leaves until you can’t see him anymore.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” Dean doesn't believe you but he’ll let it go for now. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. It’s not your fault, but you’re not going home. Come on, you’ll stay here for the night.”

Dean turns and starts walking back toward his house. You don’t know what to do but you feel yourself following him. It’s like your legs have a mind of their own.

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’m not a man who takes no for an answer, Y/N.”

Damn, that’s hot. You’re definitely thinking with your vagina and not your head. You should get in your car and go home but something compels you to stay here with Dean.

“Would you really have scattered his remains across your lawn?” you ask when you catch up to him.

“Which answer would make you feel better?”

“Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

Dean chuckles and leads you up the stairs. “Do you have a friend you can stay with?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You can stay with her tomorrow. Isaac won’t be a problem much longer.”

You’re too scared and too turned on to ask follow-up questions. He takes you to a spare bedroom and opens the door for you.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’m right down the hall if you need me.”

He leaves you alone, but you’re not sure what to do now. In less than twenty-four hours, you’ve gone from working for Dean to sleeping in the bedroom next to his. He’s now on Isaac’s radar but you have a feeling Dean can take him out before he even knows what’s happening.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

.

.

iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

09. Hurt to try

Visiting has never felt more invasive.

A large screen rested in the middle. Two massive, black speakers sat on each side of his desk with a small piano perched on top. A white shelf filled with trinkets and golden awards stood beside his stand-up microphone. An array of purple and silver acoustic panels hung around the wall, and you can’t forget the line of guitars laying in a fashionable order.

“Your studio is cleaner than I thought,” you whispered in awe, eyes bouncing around the small room.

Scara scoffed as he dropped his belongings on the grey sofa near the door, “What did you take me for?”

“A gremlin who never leaves his cave filled with chip wrappers and empty cans of energy drinks,” you shrugged, eyes still wandering.

He rolled his eyes and headed to his desk to start his computer up, “Don’t compare me to Aether.”

“You’re lucky he’s not here.”

“What’s his short ass going to do?”

“You’re the same height.”

“Allegedly,” Scara stood from his seat, urging you to take his spot, “I’ll find another chair, you can sit in mine or look around–I might take a while.”

You went to his shelves. You saw a picture of him when he was younger, wearing a volleyball jersey and holding a trophy with his teamates, one of them you recognized—Childe—they must have been childhood friends.

Then you saw another picture, one with his family. It was his highschool graduation, wearing a cap and gown with a stash that boldly displayed “validictorian,” – his mother, Ei, stood on his left, radiating an elegant smile, while his aunt, Nahida, stood on his right, pinching his cheeks with a mischievous grin. They must have been proud of him.

The next one was 5WIRL’s first concert. They were all young, bright with aspirations, beaming at the large crowd despite being rookies. Beside it, you saw a small octopus plush–Marlin–next to a polaroid picture with you two–a photo you’ve never seen before. You snapped a picture of it.

“[name]—” Scara entered with the chair.

You placed the picture down and trailed him.

“Are those all your songs?” you pointed at the screen.

He shook his head, “There’s more I’d like to do, but I want you to listen to this one.”

He passed you the headphones.

You wore it, “What is it called?”

“Bewitched.”

The song started out slow with a piano. His voice was smooth—different from his usually raspy voice. You took everything in—the lyrics, the melody, and piano. His stare was intense, observing every bit of your reaction.

“Did you like it?” He asked.

You grinned at his expectant face, “I love it, are you adding this? I’d be a crime not to.”

“I was planning on making it my title track,” he paused, “And if you agreed before, I wanted you to finish the second verse.”

“Oh.” It’d be a shame…

“Yeah.”

You stared at the giant screen, “…Can I see the lyrics?”

He flipped through his notebook, you see glances of his other works, scribbles of words and phrases only his brain could think of–one of the many reasons why you admire him.

He gave you the page, “It's a work in progress, but that’s the draft.”

“Can I try?”

Kunikuzushi smiled, “Of course.”

notes:

i lied im more excited for the next chapter (had to break this scene in two)

im on a roll with these updates and then ill ghost again idk jk

synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

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[mncxbe]

Absbsjskajnshajks idk if you’re taking more requests rn, but if it’s not an issue could I possibly request a part two of that fic you posted about reader having a cat ability which means that they’re sometimes in heat??😭😭 maybe with Tetchō and Jouno (only if you feel like it)

Yes of course and my requests are always open although it may take a while to write them♡ Also added Dazai to this one I hope you like it.

1.50♡ p2

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖, 𝑱ō𝒏𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: itty-bitty smut♡/ fluff??

°☆○ 1.50♡ ~ part 1

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

this smug bastard takes advantage of your state in the most subtle ways; lingering touches, flirtatious smiles and passionate kisses

at work he teases you more than usually, describing all the sinful things he'd do to you if you were in a more private setting👀 really just gets you all riled up for nothing

but when you two get home he acts like a completely different person

"What, bella? do you need something from me?" he always asks with a smirk on his face "Maybe some assistance with your little... situation?"

doesn't lay a finger on you until you practically beg him (nicely); it's not like he'll ever admit it but hearing your desperate pleas really boosts his ego

he does his best to help you in other ways too. he'll do more chores around the house and write your reports at work if you really can't handle them. overall he's a good guy♡

Dazai was lounging around the office, wasting time and avoiding his chores; since you had been sent on a mission, your boyfriend didn't had much else to do. He had his headphones on and was listening to some funky song when you suddenly walked behind him.

Leaning over his frame, you swiftly hooked a finger beneath one of the speakers and lifted it.

"Boo" you whispered lowly, your hot breath sending a shiver down his spine.

"Ah bella here you are. How's my pretty girl doing?" He tried to get up from the couch but you pressed further on his back.

"Bella... Come on let me get up and give you a kiss. I missed you" he whined

"Oh trust me baby. I want way more than a kiss" you said in a teasing voice.

In a matter of seconds, Dazai was back on his feet and had you pinned down on the couch, a mocking smile on his face.

"You're that desperate for me, bella? You've only been gone for a couple of hours. You really can't spend that little time without my touch?"

Your gaze darted around the room, hoping that no one could witness the position you were in.

"I'm in heat, Dazai." you confessed quietly.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it?"

"I said..." you began, rosy petal blooming on your cheeks "I said that I'm in heat, Osamu. Because of my ability"

"And what does that have to do with me, huh?" he tauned, lips hovering just above the shell of your ear. "Do you perhaps want me to have my way with you here? In the office?"

Your body quivered slightly at the sound of his low voice, making him giggle.

"Get up, bella. And go finish your job so we can leave early."

You nodded your head in agreement before straightening yourself. As you were making your way back to your desk, your boyfriend called out to you:

"Oh and bella?"

"Yes?" you asked sweetly

"Don't forget to ask Kunikida for a free day tomorrow. You'll be needing it after tonight" he replied with a wink, causing your blush to deepen.

𝑱ō𝒏𝒐

you don't have to tell him that you're in heat, he can smell your arousal

just like Dazai, this man gives you the most condescending smile and shamelessly teases you throughout the day

if you work someplace else he'll send you texts to check up on you and gently remind you that he'll provide any help you need once he gets home

but if you're part of the Hunting Dogs good luck. he's all over you all day, making snarky remarks about your "condition"

Jōno also likes to hear you beg; hearing your thumping heartbeat and sweet voice when you tell him how much you crave him really turns him on

will cook breakfast for you if you're too tired in the morning

Jōno woke up with warm sunshine on his face and your sleeping figure next to him. This hour and a half before work, when you'd both wake up and cuddled for a while then have breakfast together was among his most cherished moments.

Usually you'd wake up just minutes after him, turning to face him with a wide smile on your face as you sleepily uttered a "Good morning Sai" and showered him with kisses. Except you didn't do that today.

Jōno knew by the accelerated rhythm of your heart that you were awake, but you were not moving an inch.

"Darling? Is there something wrong?" he asked softly, placing his hand on your waist.

You quickly shook your head as you curled up in a fetal position "No, I'm good, I'm okay". Your voice was shaky and low, as if you were pain.

"Baby please, if you're hurt or not feeling well then please-"

And then it hit him; a strong, intoxicating scent coming from your body. A cocky smirk rose to his lips when he finally understood the cause of your distress.

"You're in heat, aren't you?"

You suddenly turned to face him with a pleading look on your face. "Yea..."

"Well then we must do something about that" he teased, his hand sliding to your thigh. "Would be a shame to let you go to work like this."

Your boyfriend expected you to protest just like you normally did when he initiated such things in the morning, but today you were so compliant. You scooted closer to him, leaning into his touch; eyes glazed in lust.

"Well aren't you needy today, princess?" he inquired playfully. He gently pushed you onto your back and spread your legs, the tips of his fingers skimming along your clothed slit.

"You're so wet already, princess. I can feel it through your clothes" The little moan that left your lips when his lithe digits slid beneath the wristband of your yoga shorts reverberated through Jōno's entire body.

With a swift tug at your pants and underwear he had you undressed, thumb lazily circling your clit. His hot breath fanned against your parted lips.

"Sai, gimme more~" you babbled out, fiercely seizing his wrist as you guided his fingers to your entrance.

Your boyfriend only smiled at your desperate attempt, ceasing his ministrations. "Take what you're given, sweetie. Or I won't give you anything at all" he purred, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

You immediately complied with his order and released his arm. "Good girl. See, it wasn't that hard, was it?"

Suddenly, he plunged two of his fingers into you; stretching your leaking hole. A ragged moan escaped your parted lips as your nails dug into his forearm, causing your boyfriend to smirk. Your sinful sounds were like music to his ears, clouding his mind with lust. There was nothing he loved more than coaxing those delicious moans and whimpers out of you.

His digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace; his thumb resuming its circular motions on your puffy clit.

"God baby I'm so close" you uttered in a ragged voice, thighs instinctively squeezing together.

Just as you felt the familiar heat pooling in your core, Jōno removed his hand from your underwear.

"Won't you look at that, love. We gotta go to work or we'll be late." he said tauntingly. You let out a loud hiss at the loss of touch.

"Sai, don't you dare leave me like this-" you cried out but it was too late. Your boyfriend was already on his way to the bathroom.

The rest of the morning was spent in silence hence you decided to punish your partner for teasing you. Of course, you were aware of how much Jōno enjoyed himself; a scornful laughter escaping his lips whenever you dodged his touch and kisses.

"I'm gonna head out, love. Good luck at work!" he voiced before leaving, but you didn't reply. A few seconds after you heard the door of your shared apartment close with a thud.

You spent most of the day in a state of utter annoyance and frustration, not being able to focus on any task you were given. All you wanted was for your partner to take care of your needs but instead he treated you like a plaything, leaving you brimming with pent-up desires.

Around 2 p.m, your phone chimed, announcing that you just received a text from Jōno. A rosy blush rose to your cheeks as your eyes scanned the glowing screen:

'Hi princess, I hope you're doing well at work. I know you're yearning for my touch but I promise I won't leave you unsatisfied tonight. Just be my good little girl and wait a few more hours. I know you can do it♡"

It's safe to say that that night, your boyfriend kept his promise.

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

my sweet angel he's the most caring person ever istg. he's a bit confused when you tell him that you're in heat since he doesn't really know how that affects him??

but once you explain that you'll need him he blushes so hard; but he takes it well

Tecchou take princess treatment to another level during this time. You get to relax after work while he does all the chores and cooks food

he prepares baths for you or spontaneously buys you a bouquet of roses♡ he's really sweet

you're never left unsatisfied in bed, like never. he has an incredible stamina and a never ending need to please you

The setting sun painted the blue sky of Yokohama in shades of purple, red and ochre, a warm light glowing through the high ceiling windows of the building. Tecchou was compiling his last report for the day when you peeked your head through the open doors of his office.

"Hi Hiro. Got a minute?" you beamed, lips curling into an impish smile.

"Of course, darling. Come inside."

Your sweet boyfriend didn't suspect anything as you closed the door and walked up to him, hips swaying gracefully. You positioned yourself on his lap, snaking your arms around his neck.

"So Hiro. How soon can we go home?"

"Soon. I just need to finish the paperwork." he replied, pointing at the half written page with his black fountain pen.

You pushed your lower lip forward into a pout, impatiently swinging your legs. "Ok but how soon is soon?"

Without taking his eyes off of the report, your boyfriend shrugged. "In a few minutes but... if I may ask, why are you so eager to get home, darling?"

"Oh, well" you said in a honeyed voice "I don't know if I ever told you this but because of my cat-shifting ability I sometimes experience heats"

"And?" he pressed, utterly unaware of what you were implying. His slender fingers were gingerly caressing your hips, making you shift uncomfortably in his lap.

"What I'm saying is that I'm horny, Hiro. And I need you to fuck me."

Your boyfriend's eyes shot open and he droppen the pen, little droplets of ink splattering the pearly sheet; the grip he had on your hip also tightened.

Pleased with his reaction, you ran one hand down his chest, slightly tugging at the buttons of his vest. "But of course we don't need to be home for that. There's plenty of space here" you added, patting his wooden desk.

Upon hearing your daring proposal, Tecchou's face turned a light shade of pink. "I mean... We're at the office my love but I promise I'll take care of you at home, ok?"

You give him a small nod and a peck on the cheek before hopping off his lap. "I'll be waiting for you in the car. Hurry up"

As you walked towards the door you could hear a sudden rustling of paper as your boyfriend haphazardly attempted to finish his work. He caught up with you just as you were exiting the building; of course, you didn't fail to notice his ragged breath. He'd probably ran down the stairs. You let out a soft chuckle as you noticed this.

"So, darling. Is there anything else I can do for you besides, you know...?" he asked sweetly "I mean, how does this affect you?"

"Well, I tend to lack in energy levels and I have a terrible attention span. I was actually thinking about taking a week off work 'till I feel better."

"I see..." After thinking for a few moments, Tecchou grabbed both of your hand and spoke in a solemn voice "Then I will do my best to do as many chores around the house. I'll cook dinner for us too so don't worry about it. Just focus on feeling better, ok?"

The look on his face was of pure devotion and determination; causing warmth to pool in your core.

You rose to the tips of your toes and cupped his face with your warm hands before pressing your lips on his. The kiss was tender and loving at first, but you soon found one of your hands entangled in his coffee-coloured locks as soft moans rolled off your lips. He swiftly scooped you up and made his way to your car.

Your boyfriend placed you in the backseat before taking off his cape and discarding it on the passanger's seat.

"Wait, Hiro. What are you doing?"

His skilled fingers quickly undid the buttons of his vest and he slid it off his shoulders, leaving him only in his tank top which showed his toned arms. All this time his hungry gaze was locked with yours, making you shiver with anticipation.

"Well darling. I guess you're not the only who's eager tonight" he said before joining you in the rear seat; hurriedly closing the door behind him.

[licorice-tea]

You Feel Right; Stay A Sec

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: pining, yearning, wanting, and needing <3 no smut just fluff! kissing and smooching, just one mention of “going further”! reader is a heart pirate and likes reading :)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: it’s been a while since i wrote something for my man (Law <3) so i had fun with this😇☝️inspired by lyrics from the song “Hostage” by billie eilish… i love writing based on songs, it’s probably bc i have music playing 24/7 in either my headphones or on a speaker, and i just love music! so it’s easy to get inspo or create scenarios while listening to it, yk? anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

I wanna be alone

Danger around every corner, piles of work, tasks demanding his attention, and crew members in need of their captain’s opinion are all sources of constant stress for one Trafalgar Law. It’s not that he doesn’t love being a surgeon; it’s his passion, nor his crew; they’re the closest thing he has to a family now. It's just that his battery in all aspects- social, mental, physical- is constantly drained.

The only things keeping him going are steaming cups of black coffee and the rare moments of quiet before he passes out on top of his comforter. And, no matter what form the momentarily relief from life takes, it most always comes when Law is alone. He prefers it that way, anyway.

Alone with you, does that make sense?

He prefers being alone, really. Which is why nothing about you makes sense. Right off the bat, Law has felt differently around you than others. He made an effort not to show that difference in opinion no matter how strong it came to be at times.

Times like now, where sleep eludes Law despite how damn tired he is. For whatever reason, all he wants is to hold something- no, someone… you. Law wants to hold you. Or maybe you could hold him, who cares about the specifics?

Law flips on his stomach and groans into his pillow. This is new territory. He’s never wanted someone the way he wants you. A partner to hold close on nights like these, or to simply be alone with.

I wanna steal your soul

He has considered, on multiple occasions, telling you how he feels. But Law would never actually do such a thing. It would be a complicated and messy affair, surely, thanks to your positions. (His as your captain and yours as his subordinate.) And he wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to accept his confession, either.

Still… he wishes you were his, in every way a person could give themself to another.

And hide you in my treasure chest

At least you’re on his crew. You’re always nearby, should he need you, which he often does. Sometimes, Law likes to call you into his office for a made up reason. “Y/n-ya,” he’d say, “give me a rundown on tomorrow’s conditions at sea.” Though you’re not the navigator of the ship, you still know plenty about seafaring, so you’d comply. Then he’d find some other trivial matter to discuss, or offer you a new book so you could later exchange thoughts on it. Just something- anything to keep you around as long as possible. It’s so much more peaceful with you.

I don't know what to do

But how to make your role in his life a more permanent one? Law hasn’t a clue. Tonight, like many others, you sit on a couch in Law’s office. Neither of you speak, but the atmosphere is calm and comfortable.

Or it should be. Law discreetly looks your way every few minutes, then every few seconds. His eyes follow the way yours scan side to side over a page of your book. From the lines of your jaw and neck, to stray hairs falling over the curve of your cheek.

The usually undetectable tension seems to be coming to a point tonight, and Law doesn’t know how to resolve it. But he wants to, almost as much as he wants you.

So, for once in his life, he moves without much planning. Law rises from his desk and crosses the room to sit beside you. He (stiffly) puts his arm around the back of the couch. Naturally, you give him a perplexed look- it’s not like Law to suddenly reach out like this, physically or otherwise.

“Good book?”

“Yeah, thanks for recommending it.”

“For sure.”

“…Is that all?”

He nods, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes. Silently, he makes a plan to abort this failed mission.

Luckily, you stop him and take the initiative.

To do with your kiss on my neck

Law lifts his arm back off the couch and over you. But, you gently grab his wrist before he can go any farther. “Law, is there… You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Again, he simply nods. A moment of silently staring into each other’s eyes passes, and he leans forwards extremely hesitantly. Your hand moves from his wrist and tentatively rests on his shoulder. Still, Law doesn’t break eye contact (for once in his life), continuing to lean forward at a painfully slow pace. So you allow your hand to travel up to the side of his neck.

“You can kiss me.”

He nods again slightly, “I know. I- I will.”

I don't know what feels true

At long last, Law places a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. It’s an unsure, awkward action, but welcome nonetheless. His lips linger on yours, not quite aligned for a moment. Despite your breath being held, you allow your eyes to close and savor the feeling. You want more than this chaste kiss from him, of course, but you’d take your time with it. Law isn’t the kind of man you’d want to have a touch and go experience with. No, he’s the kind the one that you want to savor. The one that you want to take your relationship slow and steady with as he wants, and as a result get to spend even longer in his company.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but smile. Law’s parted lips close into the gentle curve of a smile as well, his usual smirk appearing much more bashful. The two of you lean back into each other. Your noses are nudged and warm breaths mingle before your lips can meet again.

But this feels right, so stay a sec

Law realizes he’s never done this before; kissing. But now, he’s hooked. He still doesn’t really know if he’s doing it correctly; if you’re enjoying the experience as much as he is, but it feels good. Therefore, he must be doing something right. Plus you only pull away from him to take breaths before immediately returning your lips to where they belong (on his), which confirms his hopes.

What started as a sweet and slow kiss ends up becoming a much hotter make out session. Months of pent up attraction and feelings for each other spill over, out of your mouth into his (and vice versa.) He’s the first to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and get you to open up, and proceeds to groan into your mouth in a way that’s surprisingly communicative of how strongly he feels. It gets to the point where, besides your hands roaming over each others backs, you feel that your saliva must also be permanently entangled.

But all good things must come to an end. You pull back completely so that you and Law are properly facing each other, rather than within kissing range. “Law, I… We should talk about this. Before we go any farther.”

His face heats up at the implication; he hadn’t even thought that far ahead, too lost in your sweet taste, warm skin, and soft lips to do so. He nods and just murmurs, “Okay, let’s just keep doing this.”

You agree and kiss him without another word.

Yeah, you feel right, so stay a sec

When you do both finally wind down, and are left as nothing but half-sleep puddles in each other’s arms, Law murmurs something unintelligible into your hair.

Silence passes, though you can practically hear the gears in Law’s head turning. Finally, he speaks his mind. “Don’t go.”

A smile graces your features. How pleasantly surprising it is to have your captain- possibly the most closed off man you’d ever known- asking for you to stay. Of course, you hum in negation. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

His arms seem to tighten around you- though whether it’s reflexively or to keep you close, you’re unsure. “Good.” Then, Law murmurs something unintelligible against you.

“Hm?” He can feel the vibration on your lips against the side of his face more than he can hear it. That’s how closely you’re pressed into him.

Law clears his throat. “You feel right.”

“So do you.”

[kaciidubs]

Hoodie Season | Hyung Line

❣ Summary: What it would be like stealing and wearing their hoodie ❣ ❣ Warnings: None - just fluff and implied relationships. ❣ ❣ Gender Neutral! Reader [No use of Y/N]❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as baby, sweetheart, thief [lovingly], Chan is referred to as Chris ❣ Maknae Line ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ AO3 ❣

Chris

Would it still be considered ‘taking his hoodie’ if he actively encouraged you to wear them? 

It’s probably his favorite thing in the world - seeing you relaxing on the couch in his studio while wrapped up in one of his hoodies, doing your own thing while he worked on one of his many tracks.

“You doing okay over there, baby?” He called over his shoulder, sliding his headphones around his neck before turning in his chair, “Hungry or anything?”

You looked over at him with a soft smile and he couldn’t help but give a dimpled smile back, admiring the way his hoodie nearly swamped you in fabric.

“I’m fine - could probably go for a bite later on, though.”

“20 minutes and I’m all yours - my treat.” He offered with a grin, hiding a chuckle when you sat up at his prospect.

“Sounds perfect, but don’t rush yourself, alright?”

He loved it even more whenever you’d send him a random selfie during the day; sometimes making a silly face or using a cute filter, and the collar of his gray Maniac hoodie would show up in the edge of the photo - or even covering your head, and partially your face due to how oversized he ordered it.

Sometimes, when their schedule had them going out for a few days or so, he’d make sure to leave behind your favorite hoodie of his with a note; ‘In case you miss me too much’.

Chris would absolutely end up getting matching hoodies for the both of you, even going so far as spraying yours with his cologne to make it feel more like his.

All in all, Chris absolutely loved the idea of you “stealing” his hoodies, even if he was the one giving them to you.

Minho

Though Minho wasn’t the type to have a closet overflowing with hoodies like a few of his members - Chris, Seungmin, and Jeongin, namely - he did have four or five that he kept in his rotation. So, when that rotation shortened by one, he knew who the culprit was immediately.

“Hi, you!” Your charming voice filled the speaker of his phone, and he wasted no time in getting to the point of his call.

“I didn’t know I was dating a thief.”

A confused hum came through the phone, before he heard the tell-tale sound of a hidden giggle, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He scoffed, amused at the failed smugness you attempted in your tone, “Oh, really? So you know nothing about a green Mahagrid hoodie that was hanging in my closet the last time you came over?”

“Nope, not a clue, I don’t even know what a hoodie is!”

This time he couldn’t help but laugh, “You can’t trick me! I know you took it from my closet - what do you even need it for anyways? Didn’t you end up buying one in a different color?!”

“Yes - but it’s not the same! Yours is so much softer, Min, can you blame me?”

“Actually, I can, since it’s stolen property.”

“Then sue me!”

“I will!” He smiled at the sound of your laughs on the other end, only to look up and see a few of the other members trickling into the dance studio, “We’ll continue this later, thief.”

“I’ll make sure my lawyer’s present - have fun at practice, honey.”

Hanging up, he let the remnants of the silly conversation settle over him before he felt his phone vibrate, lighting up with a text message from you. Opening the text chat, he was met with a picture of you in said stolen hoodie, a mischievous grin on your lips with a text underneath; “Thief: 1, Boyfriend: 0”.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his heart skipped a beat seeing you in clothing he’d worn himself - you looked so natural in it, somehow more comfortable than when you wore your own.

Sure, he’d make a whole scene of it whenever you’d manage to swap out his rotation again, but deep down he felt a sense of pride about it - he even added a few more into his selection just to see them disappear from his closet after a month or so.

You were a hoodie thief, but you were his hoodie thief, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Changbin

Changbin was the perfect subject for stealing hoodies - the sizes were always perfect for being hugged in fabric with hoodie-paws from the oversized sleeves, not to mention the fact that he left them everywhere, so who could blame you from picking them up and adding them to your own collection at home?

“Sweetheart? Have you seen my hoodie?” He called from your room, the sound of him shuffling through his duffle bag echoing down the short hall.

“The one you came over in? It’s on the couch, Binnie!”

“No, no, there was one I had a week ago, I thought I left it in the recording studio but none of the staff saw it so I figured it’d be back at the dorm!” His voice grew louder as he entered the living room, bed head fluffy and black t-shirt slightly ruffled, “But then I couldn’t find it when I got home, so I just wanted to know if you saw it anywhere.”

“I don’t know, Bin, you have so many it’s kind of hard to keep track of.” You walked into the living room from the kitchen, attention focused on sending a text, “What color is it, maybe I-”

“Hey!”

You jumped, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows, tilting your head when he merely stared back at you with an incredulous grin.

“You’re wearing it! I thought you didn’t know where it was- when’d you get it from the studio?!” He rushed toward you, eyes bright with an even brighter smile on his face as he took you in; the green Supreme hoodie that was already big on him had practically doubled in size on you in the cutest way possible. “You’re so adorable in it! God, how’d you manage to get even cuter? What am I going to do with you?”

You could barely get a word in when he took you into his arms, rocking side to side and smothering your cheeks in a flurry of kisses.

“B-Bin! I didn’t know, I swear!” You managed to wiggle your face away from his onslaught of kissing and incoherent cooing, “Chris noticed you left it and gave it to me the last time I visited the building with Felix - I meant to give it to you but then I wore it one time and it just… stuck with me!”

Changbin held you at arms length, studying the way his hoodie came to your thighs, the way the sleeves were bunched excessively around your wrists - he swore if you put the hood over your head, you’d turn into a green Supreme hoodie monster.

“I’ll give it back if you want to wear-”

“No! Keep it, it looks good on you - I’ll just wear the other one and when I want it back, I’ll trade with you.”

Of course he’d hold true to his word; whenever you had a hoodie of his that he wanted to wear, he’d trade you for one you wanted to wear, and vice versa - anything to see you wrapped up in his clothes.

Hyunjin

If Minho was jokingly dramatic about his hoodies being stolen, Hyunjin was overly dramatic - almost to the point where it was like the world was ending and he’d never see his dear hoodies ever again.

Of course, he loved seeing you attempt to recreate his outfits with his hoodies as the staple piece, but that didn’t mean he was going to pass up the chance at giving you little hassle for raiding his closet.

“Hyun, it’s only for one day, I promise I’ll give it back to you!”

“But why do you have to take that one?! Why can’t you take the gray one, it goes better with your shoes!”

You rolled your eyes at his stylistic reasoning, clutching the black SKZ hoodie in your hands. “Because I want to wear this one, whether it goes with my shoes or not!”

“But what if I wanted to wear that one? Huh? What about me?” He pouted at you from his position on his bed, tilting his head to add to the pitiful curl of his lips.

“If you wanted to wear this one, you’d be wearing it instead of your balenciaga one, now wouldn’t you?” Raising an eyebrow at him, a bashful smile easily broke through his dramatic facade as he tugged at the black sleeves making you laugh. “What am I going to do with you, my drama prince?”

“Keep taking my hoodies until I’m left with nothing but a worn out t-shirt?” He grinned, running a hand through his unstyled blond hair.

“Darling, you have more clothes than me, I think you’ll survive missing this one hoodie.” Sliding the article over your head, you took a second to go over the fit in his mirror with a satisfied hum. Maybe it didn’t go with your shoes, but it was warm and smelled like him, and that was all that mattered.

“Miss it?! Nuh uh, you said it was only for today you thief!”

Safe to say, after a bit more teasing - and giving him kisses as “payment” for wearing his clothes - you both ended up going out in his hoodies, but one of them might not have ended up back where it belonged.

❣ Honestly, this was very much inspired by me listening to Hoodie Season on repeat recently, but can you blame me? As always, feedback is appreciated! Whether it be a simple like, reblog, or keyboard smash and the most essay-like comment, feel free to share your thoughts. ❣

[hatsukeii]

12:51 FM / K. AKAASHI

BROWSE EPISODES HERE

-PROLOGUE: 12:51 AM-

01:43 ━━━━●───── 15:58 ◁ PREVㅤ ❚ ❚ ㅤNEXT ▷ ㅤ

warning(s): use of y/n (format)

wc: ~1.0k

Akaashi: Is this thing...working?

Y/n: Course it is! Hear that? It's whirring, that means something has to be working.

Akaashi: You know what else whirred? My old laptop that blew up in physics last month.

You tap the microphone, and a high pitched ring sounds from the speakers. Akaashi slaps the headphones on, forgetting that they are connected to the two microphones.

Y/n: Ow! What the hell?

Akaashi: You haven't put the windscreen on yet! Mute the mic!

One hand over your left ear, the other hand scrambles for the mute button to stop the ringing, and Akaashi breathes a sigh of relief as the auditory torment comes to an end. You let go of your ear, now shuffling through papers and packaged food for the foam cover that has been buried beneath them. You manage to fish out a ball of tangled cables, the black piece of foam trapped in between. Pulling and threading wires through each other, they loosen enough to release the windscreen from their mess, and you stretch it over the metallic mesh of your microphone.

Y/n: There, is that better? I think it's better.

Akaashi: Much better.

Y/n: It's official, sound engineering is my future calling.

Akaashi: The last time you used my guitar amp, you almost blew up the insides plugging a bass into it. Please stay far away from sound engineering.

Y/n: You're no fun Keiji. Loosen up! Relax!

Akaashi: I'll relax when I walk us out of this studio in one piece. Why is the mic still whirring? I don't like that.

You clear your throat, before snatching a pack of melon bread and ripping open the plastic wrap haphazardly. Crumbs land on the pop filter of your microphone, and Akaashi clicks his tongue, swiping them off gently from beside you. From the recording booth, two bells sound simultaneously- the muffled, distant class bell from the neighbouring high school, and the booming lunch bell of Fukurodani. 12:51 pm.

Y/n: Hello hello to Fukurodani High! God, this is a really weird time to be broadcasting, isn't it? I mean, who starts lunch almost a whole hour after noon? Like, just pick twelve, or like twelve thirty, right? Even twelve fifty would've made more sense. Why twelve fifty-one?

Akaashi: Yeah, but that gives us a killer podcast name, doesn't it? 12:51 AM sounds way better than 12:50 AM.

Y/n: That's- good poi- Keij- input is- crashed?

Akaashi's audio cuts off, popping and crackling through his headphones as you continue to speak. He clicks his tongue, flicking the mic once, twice, and a third time with his finger. When that doesn't work, he cranks the mic clamp, and curses beneath his breath just quietly enough to not be picked up by the microphone. Pushing and twisting it around, he finds the perfect position, just above his head, angled upwards ever so slightly. Yes, he has to crane his neck for the duration of the podcast, and he can already feel the muscles in his shoulders tensing. But he can hear your voice perfectly this way, the silent humming of static buzzing unobtrusively beneath your talking. He's going to feel the strain at volleyball after school, but this is close enough to perfect for the broadcast.

Y/n: Alright, it's registering again.

Akaashi: I give it another five minutes to cut out again.

Y/n: Man, can't the school fund for a better PR system or something? Keiji, remember that one time we had a bomb threat and the announcement wasn't working in our classroom?

Akaashi: Yeah, this might just get us killed one day. To any teachers listening to this, can we please get a PR system upgrade?

Y/n: And that's not even the worst part! We're using AM radio at the moment, but if only we could use FM... not like anyone would notice the difference anyways.

You take a bite of your melon bread, and crumbs fall onto your pop filter again. Akaashi can't help but to swipe them off the foam cover for you, even as you keep talking. The recording booth now smells like metal sound equipment, with an odd hint of artificial melon.

Y/n: Anyways, you are currently tuned in to 12:51 AM radio! We're your hosts, y/n-

Akaashi: And Akaashi. Fukurodani's weird lunch time means that no one else is using the same frequency as we are, so we can actually run this show without any interference. Hooray to that.

You laugh at Akaashi's random spiel, punching his arm. He rubs his bicep, even though you didn't hit him that hard, before realising that his head is off centre from the microphone. He readjusts to his original seating position swiftly.

Y/n: Oh come on Keiji, no one understands enough about radio frequencies to get that! What's important is that we'll be your central student hub for-

Akaashi: I don't think we can call ourselves the student hub, isn't that the wellbeing area upstairs?

Y/n: ...True. Well! The two of us will be your main source of lunch entertainment once a week then! I'm not even too sure what our main topics are gong to be, so I guess stay tuned and be surprised?

Akaashi: I second that sentiment, stay tuned and be surprised everyone, because we'll be surprising ourselves as well. These episodes are available to watch on the school's website, so if you ever feel like going back to an episode again, or there was something you didn't quite catch, you can go back any time for it.

Y/n: Buuuut all you gotta do is show up at school, and you'll get the unedited, unfiltered first edition of each episode! How 'bout that!

Akaashi: Correct. The school is definitely not making sure we endorse good attendance.

Y/n: Don't say that Keiji!

You punch his side this time, and Akaashi snickers at your weak hit, head staying scarily still as he catches your wrist in his grasp while you pull away. You twist your hand from his fist, smacking his hand, before erupting into a fit of giggles. He raises his brow tauntingly, watching you turn back to your microphone from the corner of his eye. You take a deep breath in, and Akaashi doesn't miss the way your fingers grip the edge of the table so hard that they turn pale. You've never been this quiet.

Y/n: Now, without further ado....

He thinks you'll do just fine.

Akaashi: Welcome, to the first edition of 12:51 AM radio.

author's note: do you guys fw the script format? I'll probably be mixing this and full prose between chapters, but I've been really getting into scriptwriting and staging things, but i'm not exactly a filmmaker so scriptwriting is all i can do. take it as dialogue practice i guess. hope you guys enjoyed anyways!

tags: @wyrcan @kawoala @bakery-anon @catsoupki @chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @fiannee @staraxiaa @akaakeis @velvetreds @tokeposts @kongkhoi @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @kuroppiii @bailey-reeds @kameyyy @tokeposts @tobiosluvr @gumims

p.s if you're not in the general taglist, comment/ask for tag if you'd like to be included in the taglist for this series!

[noturlondonboy]

Touches game, Hugs, 3

Please?

Hugs #3- hugging while twirling around

This one definitely got away from me but I think it’s freaking adorable

——

The day of Kate’s Bishop’s graduation, Yelena was a restless mess. Everything had to be perfect, because her Hawkeye was perfect, and therefore deserved nothing but the best. She paced circles into the floor the minutes her girlfriend had left their home to get ready for the ceremony itself, her cheeks flushed from Yelena’s lips on her cheeks and hand between her legs. A proper send off, if you will. But now that Kate was doing her part on her big day, it was Yelena’s turn.

No pressure, suka.

She starts with cleaning the apartment- easy enough, unless you factor in the two large, energetic dogs that liked to try to help. Their assistance usually looked like chewing on the decorations she was trying to put up, or just causing general chaos. Normally, Yelena would be patient with them and use it as a training opportunity, but today was not that. Fanny and Lucky ended up in their crates, and that was that.

Balloons were scattered, streamers were placed over the entry ways, and a banner spelling out GRADUATE in big purple block letters was hung on the back wall. Among other decorations, Yelena stood back and dusted her hands off, feeling satisfied with herself.

While she was happy with the main room of the apartment, most of her pride was in her work on her and Kate’s bedroom. But that was for the archer to discover later, in the privacy of each other’s company.

——

The stadium is beyond loud, the roar of people here to see their own graduates practically deafening. Yelena had initially flinched and huddled away from it all, but Natasha had dug out her noise cancelling headphones and settled them over Yelena’s ears before it could completely overwhelm her. She shot her sister a grateful smile, nudging their shoulders together before scooting over to make room for Clint and his family. Nathanial wiggled into her lap right away, and the blonde giggled, holding the little boy close.

“How are you, kiddo?” Clint signs to her, his smile easy and tired.

Yelena returns the gentle look and takes her hand from Nate’s hair. “Excited to see our Hawkeye,” she signs back, leaning into Clint’s steady warmth as he wraps an arm around her shoulders and hugs her close.

Bucky is settled in the row behind her, exchanging low words with Natasha and a soft kiss to her brow before he notices that Yelena isn’t focused on Clint anymore. He leans forward and loops his flesh arm gently around her front to hug her swiftly, a kiss pressed into her hair. She smiles brightly and leans back into him, their eyes meeting. The corners of his crinkle in happiness.

“Love you, little bear,” he mouths to her, and Yelena’s smile only grows, her chest warm and heart swelling.

The ceremony officially starts a few minutes later, and Yelena is laser focused on the crowd of graduates as their names are read off one by one. Kate is up relatively quickly, and Yelena takes her headphones off, wanting to hear her girlfriend’s name over the speaker.

“Katherine Elizabeth Bishop!”

Yelena lets out a roar and jumps to her feet, holding Nate on her shoulders as she screams and shouts and cheers, her voice rising above even the giant crowd. Kate’s eyes find hers, so bright and so happy that Yelena finds herself crying. Her Kate Bishop. That was her girl. She was so proud.

The entire rest of the ceremony, Yelena’s gaze is solely fixed on Kate. The archer periodically turns her head to catch Yelena’s eye, exchanging looks and secret smiles meant only for each other. When the last student’s name has been called out and every graduate is once again seated, the Dean stands from her chair and walks to the podium, her smile blinding.

“It is so wonderful to have you all here today, graduates. This day means so much to me, for you. We’ve had such a successful year.”

She talks for a few minutes before Kate’s name catches Yelena’s attention.

”Please welcome our very our graduating class Valedictorian, Katherine Bishop.”

“What!?” Yelena’s jaw drops, her eyes wide as she watches Kate stand yet again and stride to the stage, her stance tall and stride powerful. Yelena is effortlessly turned on. Valedictorian? When did this happen? Surely Kate would have told her about such an important thing?

”She wanted to surprise you,” Natasha tells her quietly after Yelena takes her headphones off.

Yelena scoffs, but her cheeks are glowing and her smile is bright. “Of course she did.”

The blonde listens with rapt attention as Kate speaks, her eyes laser focused on the woman that she loved. Kate was grinning, unable to contain her joy as she stood up there in front of her peers, her cheeks flushed. Towards the end of her speech, she mentions her family and friends, her eyes on all the people that Yelena is surrounded by, and her two closest friends in the crowd of graduates with her.

”And to my darling, my beautiful girlfriend, Yelena.”

Yelena’s breath catches in her throat. Kate’s eyes are right on her, shining a mesmerizing sky blue.

”Without you, I’m not sure I would have made it this far,” Kate says softly into the mic, her smile lovestruck. “You have been the tallest lighthouse for me in the storm that is college. You’ve helped me find who I am, and what it means to love myself. With every late night spent with you, every early morning run in the softness of dawn, every cram session where you made sure I was fed, and hydrated, and helped me study, I have fallen more and more in love with you. You are my world. I can never thank you enough for loving me with the intensity that you do, or for being my partner in the challenges that we face together.”

There are tears in Yelena’s eyes, my jaw slack as she holds Kate’s gaze, her entire body on fire.

Kate suddenly swallows and turns to look at the Dean behind her, and the woman nods, smiling softly. The archer’s shoulders relax, her smile nervous when she turns back to the mic. “Yelena, my love- will you please come join me on stage?”

Yelena blinks hard, sitting up a little straighter. The stage? Her?

Clint and Natasha are both chuckling softly on either side of her, and when they rest their hands on her back to encourage her up, she can’t help but feel that they’ve been in on something she isn’t aware of this whole time.

Kate’s smile is nearly blinding as she watches Yelena maneuver her way to the stairs and walk down to the floor. Is this why they had been sitting so close to the front? When she reaches the stairs to the stage, her steps are wobbly, and Kate meets her halfway, offering an arm to help her up. Yelena holds onto her gratefully, looking up at her archer with a furrowed brow. The brunette only smiles reassuringly at her.

When they get back to the podium, Kate clips a smaller mic onto her collar and turns to Yelena, taking her hands and pressing her lips to each knuckle. Yelena can only stare, her lips parted and eyes wide as her heart flutters and her stomach fills with nerves.

”Kate Bishop…?” she whisper softly in question, only for her darling to hear.

Kate kisses her hand one more time before clearing her throat, her fave nervous but loving. “Yelena Belova, you complete me.”

Oh. Oh. Was she- was Kate…?

”I want to spend every day of my life with you.” The archer swallowed thickly. “There are so many things that I can’t properly put into words, but I hope to be given the chance to try to voice how much I love and admire you every day for the rest of our lives. But to get that chance, I need to start with this.”

Yelena watches Kate sink to one knee. She watches her take off her grad cap and pull a small velvet box from somewhere inside it. She is distantly aware of the dull roar of the crowd screaming their heads off, but all she sees and hears and breathes is Kate Bishop.

Her archer opens the small box to reveal a beautiful obsidian ring, and Yelena feels the tears burning down her face.

”Yelena Belova,” Kate says, her voice strong and sure despite the nerves in her gut, “will you be my wife?”

”Kate Bishop,” Yelena sobs out softly, her voice thick and catching on her tongue as she covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god, Kate Bishop.”

She is so beautiful, and she is everything Yelena has ever wanted.

Yelena pulls Kate up onto her feet so that she can kiss her, cupping the archer’s face and slamming their lips together in a breathless tangle. “Yes, yes, always yes,” she sobs into Kate’s sweet mouth, kissing her hard and holding her close.

Kate is crying too at this point, and they can’t hear the roar of the crowd in their own little pocket when Kate pulls back in order to slip the ring on Yelena’s finger. The blonde stares at it in awe for a moment before looking up to meet Kate’s gaze, and the sheer abundance of love she finds there nearly sends her to her knees.

But Kate scoops her up into her arms before she can fall, as she always does, holding her close in a bone crushing hug as she lifts the blonde from her feet and twirls them around. She spins her, and spins her, and spins her, and Yelena never wants it to stop.

[flyingwargle]

the first few hours on the bus ride to a practice match are always quiet. they often leave early, still clinging onto the tendrils of sleep, letting drowsiness wrap around them as soon as they’re settled in their seats. it isn’t until they’re closer that the athletes will wake, one by one, reaching for packed cans of coffee or bottles of tea for a caffeine boost, but until then, it’s tranquil.

sakusa is always one of the last few to fall asleep, unaccustomed to sleeping in a vehicle. he’d already taken some melatonin, noise-canceling headphones over his ears. beside him, atsumu has his eyes closed with a similar pair of headphones, arms folded tightly across his chest, breaths deep. sakusa checks his phone, about to connect his headphones via bluetooth, when he notices the time: 8:34 am.

hm. he checks his calendar. the practice match against vc hiroshima is under today’s date. there’s another event, too. he taps on it. phone call with dr. kimura @ 8:45 am.

oh. sakusa blinks, drowsiness erased. he pats his pockets, franticness fading into resignation. for phone calls, he’d use earbuds because his headphones don’t have a microphone, and there is no way in hell he’d press his phone against his ear, no matter how thoroughly he’s sanitized it. plus, the speaker barely works, not after motoya spilled his pocari sweat over it during university.

his eyes slide toward atsumu. would he have earbuds? no, the more important question is – would he trust earbuds that were likely in his ear? when was the last time he saw him use earbuds, anyway? most of his teammates use headphones, even at the gym, and atsumu doesn’t listen to music while he works out (neither does sakusa, but that’s because they work out together, and being able to hear each other while benching is pretty important, in his opinion). still, there’s less than ten minutes left until the call, and he’d rather not reschedule.

he taps on atsumu’s shoulder, feels him startle, opening an eye in his direction. “omi?” he mumbles.

sakusa points to his headphones, and atsumu dutifully slides them off his ears and around his neck. “do you have a pair of earbuds i could borrow?” he murmurs. “i have a phone call with my physiotherapist in ten minutes.”

“oh, sure.” atsumu reaches for the drawstring bag by his feet, rummaging around until he produces a red airpod case. he flips it open for him, frowning at sakusa’s frown. “what?”

“why is there only one?”

atsumu twists it around, blinks, and then shrugs. “bit of a long story. ya better do yer call first.”

“is it clean?”

“i don’t remember the last time i used it, so probably.”

sakusa takes it gingerly, inspects it. there are scratches on the crimson airpod, the telltale sign of its age, but there’s no trace of wax anywhere. still, he runs a sanitized wipe over it, dries it with a clean handkerchief, and then puts it in his ear, connecting it to his phone just in time for the call.

it doesn’t last long, just a routine update on his physiotherapy and additional stretches that he can add to his regiment. he schedules a session for the end of the week and thanks the doctor, ending the call. when he looks over at atsumu, he’s looking out the window, watching the scenery blur by. sakusa disconnects the airpod and hands it back. “thanks.”

“any time.” atsumu holds the case out, and sakusa slides it in place. he doesn’t put the case back though, just keeps it in his hand while settling back in his seat. sakusa does the same.

“did you lose the other one?”

“nah, it’s with ‘samu.” his smile is fond, as it always is when talking about his twin. “ma could only afford one pair, so we split it an’ took turns playin’ music. ‘samu was always listenin’ to somethin’, but it distracted the hell outta me. i just listened to it whenever i was stressed.” the corners of his mouth fall, voice low. “when he told me that he wasn’t gonna go pro, i was pissed. he put the earbud in my ear an’ made me sit an’ watch ‘im cook while listenin’ to music. it…helped me understand just how much cookin’ meant to ‘im. we made up after that.”

sakusa doesn’t comment. it was strange that atsumu concentrated better in silence when his personality was so loud. however, as he observed over the years, silence equates to single-minded devotion, to dedication amplified to an extreme level. his twin seems to demonstrate the opposite.

atsumu lowers his eyes at the case. “i dunno why i took it after i moved out. i only used it with ‘samu, so i didn’t even notice there was only one ‘till he called me ‘bout it. he had to use sunarin’s case to charge his. i bet he has his own pair, now.”

the image of the twins in their high school uniforms, a pair of earbuds shared between them, unfurls in sakusa’s mind. it’s strangely endearing, how they didn’t fight over who would use the pair at any given time, how they made do with it instead of begging for another. “you care for your brother more than you let on.”

that causes a deep blush to spread across atsumu’s cheeks. he lets out a strangled cough and slides his headphones back over his ears. “whatever. i’m goin’ back to sleep.” he folds his arms across his chest again, tucks his chin, shuts his eyes. sakusa doesn’t miss the airpod case clutched in his fist.

it’s ironic that he loathed the twins on the volleyball court, but now that they’ve grown, he finds himself respecting their closeness more and more. he never had such a relationship with his siblings, and he considers motoya more as a friend. he slides his headphones back on, connects them to his phone, and starts a playlist. as music drifts around him, he closes his eyes, suppressing a smile. he’ll have to ask osamu for music recommendations when they meet next.

--

inspiration: this comic of suna taking pictures of the twins for the s4 ost album cover art but i fixated on the earphone part and nothing else