Oh, He's A Simp - B.H.

reminder to self: read this when you're done with watching spiderverse

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

you lied

i redrew that old ghostbur piece out of spite lol

(old painting under ‘read more’)

-

(PLEASE DON’T COPY/EDIT/USE/REPOST, REBLOG INSTEAD)

Keep reading

One More Moment - B.H.

a/n: here's a little angst one shot for you guys as an apology for how slow I'm being rn with requests and a lil something while yall wait. I was super depressed and just couldn't help and couldn't write requests it I needed to do something so I wrote this instead. I hope y'all like it ilysm 💗

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Length: 1.3k

Warnings: Depression, grieving, death mention, Billy is dead in this, mention of suicide, suicidal thoughts lowkey.

The air is cold. It's the end of fall, and winter is rearing its head. Ready to take over and cover Hawkins in snow and ice.

Two things he hated.

He hated colder weather. He hated Hawkins.

Yet he's stuck here now, forever.

You blow some air onto your cold hands, stepping in front of the tombstone.

William Hargrove.

No one ever called him that. Not one person. Except maybe his dad sometimes. But even then, it was a word used to show hate.

To tie him down.

You always wondered why they wrote William, not Billy on his grave.

Maybe it was because it was his legal full name. Or maybe it was because his father never knew his son enough, loved his son enough, to write the name he always went by. Billy. A way to dehumanize him further than he had already done for eighteen years.

You didn't know. But anyone who knew him knew he never answered to William.

No one used to go to the cemetery. You used to never go to the cemetery. It's mostly older graves for older people. People who were at an age that they were ready to die. But more recently the cemetery started to fill with people who were too young to be here. People who still had lives to live, had people to love, had a chance to be happy. To change.

People like Heather Holloway, Barbara Holland...

Billy Hargrove.

Max had been there recently. You see the remnants of an empty cassette beside the stone. She had started bringing them.

No music on them. His cassettes were too precious now. Too raw to give up, even to his own grave. But music meant something. Those cassettes meant something.

It sort of felt like a connection between herself and the dead brother in the ground- one they didn't get to grow before he died.

Maybe one day Max can let his real cassettes go.

You hope so. It's what you're here to do.

To let go.

To try to let go.

You crouch in front of the stone on cold and dying grass. The fallen leafs from trees skitter around with the wind, performing a weird dance together. It breaks the silence in the graveyard.

"Hey Billy..."

Your voice is soft. So quiet, it's almost as if you didn't speak at all. His name sounds foreign on your lips, but all to familiar at the same time. His name is like a curse and a blessing. You could hardly stand to hear it, but the longer you didn't hear it, the more the boy behind the name really faded away.

He was fading.

And eventually, one day in the future, his grave would be another grave with a name no one recognized; one that no one visited.

You clear your throat, suddenly it's gone dry; it feels like you've been in the desert for months, no water in sight.

"How are you?"

He doesn't answer of course. He's not really there. Yes, the body six feet under is his but its not him. Him is somewhere far away. A place you can't reach.

But this is as close as it gets.

Be always hated small talk like this. But he doesn't have a choice but to listen in silence now.

"I'm..." you want to say you're good, but you're not. You aren't sure you'll ever be good again- it's why you need to to this, "okay."

Okay was safe. It was a non-answer. A lie but not a lie.

You dig your hand into your coats pocket, looking for the rectangular item in your pocket; when your fingers touch it, it burns- it hurts. But that's why you're here. To stop the hurt. To...

"I'm leaving," you say it like you're breaking the ice to your boyfriend.

In some way you are- he was your boyfriend. Is... Was. You can't date a dead man.

"I don't think... I can't stay in Hawkins anymore," you miserably offer to the grave in front of you. You're speaking to dead space- but you need to do it.

Leaving and not telling him feels like a betrayal. Even if it's a stone in the ground- it's... He's...

"I'm sorry," you pull your hand from your pocket, a cassette held tightly in your hands, fingers digging into it- you could break it if you're not careful, "I know Max leaves you empty tapes sometimes. But I thought you might like one with music for once."

It's a tape with a dozen songs. One that you had made with him long ago, in the beginning months of your relationship. Back when things were brighter, when the world around you was colourful and when life seemed to have some hope within it.

Back before Hawkins took everything you loved.

"I can't keep it anymore," the air leaves your lungs shakily- you can feel the emotions building up in your chest, begging to be let out. But if you did that now, you know you won't be able to do this.

And you need to do it.

At first you couldn't. Couldn't listen to it, couldn't look at it. It held all your favourite songs and his favourite songs which would subsequently also become your favourites. You couldn't even listen to music for a while after because it stung. It hit too deep, bled too much. It was something you enjoyed doing with him in his room, in his Camaro. Anywhere.

It didn't bring you happiness anymore; it only deepened the gaping wound that he had left when he died.

But over time you listened to it again. One song a day. Till you listened to it all. And then you listened again, and again, on repeat. In your car, in your room, anywhere.

The songs became an escape. One where when you closed your eyes and blocked everything else out, you could imagine in those minutes that he was right there. That he was laying with you. Or standing behind you and putting his hands in your jeans pockets pulling you close.

Sometimes you swore you could feel him. Feel his touch. Smell is cologne. Feel his love.

But then the songs would end. And your eyes would open and everything was grey again.

Everything hurt again.

Because he wasn't there. And he wouldn't ever be there again. You were only fooling yourself; using this tape as an escape from a reality you needed to face. You were fading away, just like he was, but you were still living in all ways that mattered medically.

Beating heart, pumping blood, functioning limbs, warm skin.

The other half of you was dead.

It would kill you.

He would kill you, even in death, Billy Hargrove was your greatest weakness. And he'd kill you if you didn't stop.

Maybe you should have let him. But he'd be angry. So, so angry. And Max too. Your family. Friends.

At what point did you stop your own hurt instead of stopping others hurt?

Closing your eyes as tight as you can, you place the tape onto the grave in front of you. It feels like a weight is lifted, but at the same time, like a new one has arisen.

It is pain. It is hurt. It is agony. It is a love that you can't ever express the way you want to because he's not there to recieve it. It is a darkness that threatens you and tells you this is the wrong choice.

But you need to. To let him go, to get away. Before Hawkins (and the ghost of a dead man) swallows you whole. Drowns you.

"Take care of it, please."

You know the weather will destroy the tape. Maybe it will find its way back to him wherever he is- wherever death takes you. You can't say where, you don't know where. Anything could be possibly considering all Hawkins had shown you.

When you stand and turn away, hand still burning metaphorically from where the tape had been, the wind blows a harsh gust. It goes through you like you're a rickety old house, holes and all, just a skeleton.

It's cold. But it feels like you're being wrapped up by the wind into a hug. For one moment, a single, fleeting moment, you aren't alone.

Then it's gone. Just like everything else. The wind dies down as quickly as it came, and its quiet again, the leaves settling. You're alone.

Hawkins couldn't have you. You wouldn't let it. No matter how much part of you wanted it to take you.

All you needed was one more moment with him. And that was it.

you don’t see selena gomez talking about the shittiness of north korea and it’s autocratic government. you don’t see bts speaking on the issues palestinians are facing right now. you don’t see harry styles talking about income inequality in the united states.

so why are these fucking minecraft youtubers expected to know absolutely everything about every possible problem going on in the world right now as well as being expected to speak on it whenever people bring it up.

half of these people are fucking teenagers who wanted to make content on the internet because it interested them. they aren’t activists. they didn’t sign up to be activists. stop treating them like one.

they are content creators existing to provide content. entertainment. if they want to use their platform that they built to speak on issues that they’re passionate about? great! amazing! but this entire belief that if they don’t speak on something or aren’t educated on a problem means they’re racist or homophobic or transphobic or literally anything else is such a dangerous mindset to have.

content creators are not activists. they don’t owe you anything. it’s great if they feel they are responsible and educated enough to speak on these issues and help people, but expecting them to do anything other than what they’re signed up for, which is creating content for entertainment is a fools dream that shouldn’t be indulged.

you don’t see older fandoms asking their ccs to say “can you please say gay rights?” or asking for their opinion on racial issues.

BECAUSE IT’S NOT THEIR FUCKING JOB

of course fucking gay rights. of course racial issues are valid and should be talked about. BUT THEY’RE PLAYING A VIDEO GAME ABOUT FUCKING BLOCKS.

TALK TO AN ACTIVIST IF YOU WANT AN INFORMED OPINION. THAT’S THEIR JOB. NOT A MINECRAFT YOUTUBER. NOT ANY YOUTUBER UNLESS THEY HAVE ALREADY EXPLICITLY SAID THEY BELIEVE THEMSELVES MATURE ENOUGH TO TALK ABOUT IT.

i am sick and fucking tired of everyone using twitter as a way to educate people. twitter threads are not reliable sources of information. you know what are?

ted talks

websites formatted specifically by activists

organization pages without fucking character limits

stop expecting content creators to know everything. they don’t. they never will. they’ll mess up. they’ll make mistakes. that doesn’t make them fucking racist.

mcyttwt is a fucking joke and i hope that app burns

Hiiii :)) first, thank you for feeding us knb content like that, you can't imagine how much of a hoe I am for these basketball guys so you're really doing me good 🧎🏾‍♀️

Can I request prompt 15 with Kiyoshi? Lowkey got a praise kink so that would be fitting lmao + we, as a community, need more Kiyoshi content so I'd be very grateful 😩

Anyways, thank you in advance if your taking my request <333

ahhh I can't tell you how excited I am for this gentle giant of a man to be requested! I too believe that as a community we should rise up and erect statues In Teppei Kiyoshi's honour... I mean 🤤🤤

Minors DNI, 18+ Content

"Are you sure about this Y/N?" Teppei asked, his large hands engulfing your face as he kissed your cheeks and forehead.

No doubt trying to ease the nerves you felt as you straddled his lap. Your naked body pressed up against him.

"I trust you Teppei, I can't imagine doing these things with anyone else but you." You admitted, your nose rubbing against his neck as you nestled into him. Your own words causing your cheeks to burn hot. Even though you were both naked this very second, your juice from previous activities still on his chin.

You had been with Teppei for a few months, a few blissful months. Teppei Kiyoshi being ever the gentleman. Walking on the road side of the street, holding doors open, scaring off any unwanted attention with his height and stature. No one wanting to flirt with you as he came up behind you and wrapped you in a hug, claiming you as his.

In these few months you had given him head, the pure length and girth of him something you had only ever seen in porn but he helped you all the way. Never pushing you to do anything until you were ready. Always reassuring you and making sure you were comfortable, freaking out the first time you went too deep and gagged. Him pushing you off him in such a hurry you fell off the bed with a thud.

He had also taught you things about your own body. The places to touch and stroke, bringing yourself to orgasm in front of him while he watched, praising you the whole time. He had also found his favourite place to be, between your thighs, licking and sucking up everything you had to offer. Pleasuring you like a man starved.

"Thank you for trusting me baby, I will do my best to make you feel comfortable." He whispered, lifting you up slightly and laying you down in your back. His tongue licking from your hip to your neck, a moan leaving your lips.

"Just relax okay, I'm right here." He said, lining up with your entrance and slightly pushing inside you. The burn and stretch causing your eyes to shut and your arms to wrap around him.

"It's okay, almost there baby." He panted, one of his large hands holding your hip while he continued to thrust forward. Your mind going foggy with pain and pleasure. The sensation unlike anything you had ever experienced but something that you were glad to be sharing with Teppei.

"That's good baby, keep doing that." He chanted.

"Fuck, you were made for me baby, you feel amazing."

"You are so big Teppei, I feel you in my tummy." You moaned, hugging him closer, scratching down his back as he picked up his pace.

"Baby if you keep saying stuff like that and tightening around me I'm going to fill you with cum a lot sooner than I want."

You smiled at that, kissing your boyfriend passionately as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"We have all night Teppei, I want you to paint all of me with your cum."

Hi, love your writing so much! ❤ I was wondering if I can get a gangbang with Muraskibara,Midorima,Aomine and Kagami with a female s/o? If that's too much to do I totally understand. Have a good day ☺

“Ｇｒｏｕｐｅｅ”

]|I{•----» | 18 + CONTENT | »----•{I|]

|MINORS DONT INTERACT|

The victory against Jabberwock was something that would go down in history. No amount of screaming, dancing and celebrating could ever live up to the feeling of seeing the board light up with the final score before the buzzer went off. Besides the Jabberwock team, everyone was celebrating the win. The strong stench of booze-filled the air as Riko's father stumbled by - mumbling curses at the Jabberwock team forever thinking they had a chance - causing Midorima to lift his shirt up to cover his nose to avoid the strong smell. He was happy - thrilled and in shock even - his cold demeanour didn’t break.

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. He could feel his hands shaking in the pockets of his jersey jacket. His leg bounced unnaturally fast, heart-thumping inside his chest. It was the post-game high. He has gotten used to winning ever since he joined the Generation of Miracles that he forget that this could even happen. The adrenaline from the game hasn’t settled yet and his body was jittery and looking for an outlet to waste all the extra energy. But he found himself unable to move. What could he do? Play ball? He’d win again - as if anything else was possible - making the endeavour useless. He needed something thrilling, something where he couldn’t see the outcome of, something-

“Shintarō,”

He jerked his head to the side to see who had called his name. It was Akashi.

“Everyone’s heading home. Do you have a ride?” He asked. “Yeah, I’m taking the train home,” Midorima replied. He got up and began to get ready to leave, he just has to get his gym bag from the locker room and he would be ready to leave. Standing up from his seat he began to dust off his pants, straightening them with the palms of his hands. The sudden giggle caught his attention and he looked up.

(Y/N) (L/N). The girl who worked for Rikos father. He hadn't met her until the day he brought her in with him, she went to a different school on the edge of the district. He said something about her working the front desk of the gym as a summer job - but all he could remember her from was the constant flirting her and Aomine would get into when they were supposed to be practicing. She stuck around to see the boys practice for the match against Jabberwock, often bringing in water and snacks for the players and subs. The skirts she would wear would always be hiked up to a very questionable height - everyone saw the panty hoes stocking she wore, the slight dark ones with the lacy tops - but despite the obvious flirting she was nice. She served as the manager in the Jabberwock match, making sure everyone had cold water and were patched up after an injury.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw her walking next to Aomine. It was about time the two of them went on a date or something - the tension they created was suffocating - and the way Aomine talked about her made everyone certain that he mostly won the Jabberwock match to impress her. Midorima paid them no mind as they walked by, he had better things to worry about. Pushing in his chair he began to make his way to the door that lead to the locker rooms. He reached out to grab the metal handle of the door when he heard his name being called.

“What're you doing here still?”

It was Kagami. Midorima turned around and saw the red-haired bafoon that was Kagami, standing next to Murasakibara. “I just have to get my gym bag and then I’m leaving,” Midorima replied. “Oh same,” Murasakibara chimed in. “Yeah me too,” Kagami said. The three boys stood in silence, waiting for someone to make any sort of move to break the awkward silence. Taking it upon himself, Midorima let out a sign, “do you want to go get them?” Without saying another word the three boys began to walk through the double doors and began to make their way to the locker rooms.

They all knew what was happening. They all had it. It was awkward dealing with it - what we’re you supposed to do besides beat your meat to let the built-up energy out?- there was no use in playing each other, they already knew the outcome and it would satisfy none of them. Which left the only plausible option, which was beating your meat. Kind of uncomfortable knowing that as soon as you all get home you’re going to fistfight your dick until you can’t feel it anymore, but despite that, they all managed to make it to the locker rooms in peace. The light was still on - strange - but they assumed that it was left on for them to close so they went in without a thought. So when they saw Aomine sitting on the bench with you between his legs, dick deep in your throat as he pushed down on your head, bobbing it on the length of his dick, it was a little surprising.

The sound of the door opening caught the two of you off guard - but not quick enough. You pulled away from Aomines dick, a string of off-white following your bottom lip as you pulled away to look at the three men staring at you. No one was shocked that you and Aomine were… bonding… it was just shocking to walk in on it. It was awkward and a little embarrassing.

“I was wondering when you guys would show up,” Aomine chuckled as he pulled his pants up as he stood up. You were still on the floor, bare knees on the hard coke floor, as you looked at Aomine walk over to the other guys. “You’re just in time.” He reached out and put his arms over Kagami. “Things were just getting started.” He chuckled. “What the fuck do you-“ “Awe c’mon,” he interpreted Kagami. Take his arm off him and walk back over to you. “We’re all feeling it - might as well put it into good use.” He said as he sat back down on the bench. “I know I am,” he smirked looking down at you.

No one said a word as they absorbed what Aomine had just said. “All of us?” Midorima chocked out. He looked down at you - there was no way you could handle that, especially at a time like this - but when he locked eyes with you, chills ran up his spine. “Exciting,” you cooed looking over to Aomine. He leaned forward, grabbing your chin with his fingers and placing a kiss on your lips, “good girl,” he cooed back as he pulled away.

“Daiki this is wron-“ “You don’t have to,” Aomine sighed throwing his head back. “Just know you’ll be missing out on a lot - baby, go stand against a locker and show them what they’ll be missing.” On cue, you stood up and walked over to the lockers directly in front of the three onlookers, playing your chest on the cold surface and bent over, opening your legs. Your skirt hiked up above your ass, ass spreading apart to show a glimpse of your pussy - the thick slick glistening in the locker room lighting. “Shake,” Aomine commanded. You wiggled your butt a little, your ass and thighs moving hypnotically. “Good girl.” Aomine rewarded. He turned his attention back to the guys by the door.

“Interested?” He teased.

It didn’t take long for their cocks to be buried in their fists as they slowly glided their palms along their shaft. Soft groans and grunts mixing with your squeals and Mewls and bounced around the confined walls of the locker room as Kagami stuffed his face deeper in your cunt. Your legs wobbled with every shock of pleasure that surged through your body - Kagami's firm grip on your hips was the only thing keeping you up at that point. Your back arched as you felt yourself be pushed further into the cold surface of the locker, the side of your face pressed against the metal while your braced yourself with your hands. The warm stream of Kagamis spit and your own slick dripped down your legs as Kagami dove his tongue deep in your hole. His hands looping between your legs and coming back up to spread your ass open. The constant assault on your clit from his tongue was enough to get you to the edge, but not push you off into an orgasm. It was torture. You had lost track of how long Kagami has been eating you out - 10 minutes? 15? - it didn’t matter, you were too lost in the pleasure to tell him anything otherwise.

The more Kagami pulled you back into his face, the more you felt your back arch to fit the position. Your panties had been discarded - more like ripped off by Aomine - and now served as a nice decoration piece around Midorimas cock as he gently pumped it on his dick. You could feel the carnivorous stares from them - you knew that they would ravish you when the chance finally comes - and the whole thrill of it just made things better.

“I think you’ve had enough to eat,” Aomine chimed up as he walked over to you two. Despite that, Kagami kept going, flicking your clit with his tongue and stopping to suck on the swollen bud, before he felt Aomines hand on his shoulder. He pulled away, taking in a deep breath as he began to refill his lungs with the air he was depriving them of. He leaned in and gave your abused clit a quick peck before getting up on his feet, wiping the wetness from around his mouth with his arm. He went and sat down on the bench, slumping in the seat before his hands went to palm the tent in his pants.

“Look at you baby,” Aomine teased, looking down at your figure. You were still in the position, legs open, bent over against the lockers.“You got spoiled by Kagami,” He walked up next to you, turning to face the three men watching you like him rabid dogs. He reached out and grabbed your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and exposing your wet cunt. “He really spoiled you didn’t he, princess?” He cooed as he smacked your ass. You let out a whine in response, your legs buckling. The sudden feeling of Aomines fingers in your cunt caused you to squeal. Immediately he began to scissor his fingers, stretching you out.

“You’re so tight baby,” he teased. “Sucking my fingers in like that - are you really that needy? Do you need your cunt stuffed, princess?” Aomine pulled his fingers out, your cunt immediately contracting at the sudden loss. He smacked your ass one last time, startling you, before going back to where he was sitting. “Atsushi,” he called. “Why don’t you stretch her out for us.”

You eagerly waited as you heard footsteps approach you - anticipating what would happen next - but you were caught off guard when a shadow overtook you, darkening the light that had been coming from the lights overhead. You turned around, eyes widening at the sight of the purple-haired giant - a menacing grin accompanying him. It happened in a blink of an eye. You felt his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your hips, he pushed you against the locker and spread your legs further. You could feel his tip at your entrance - he was big, bigger than what you could take by a landslide - but that didn’t stop him pushing his throbbing dick in you. You were too stunned to let out any noise as you felt his dick push it’s way into you - the burning feeling from suddenly being stretched out taking over and numbing your senses. Your cunt resisted, tightening up and stopping his duck from going any deeper.

You felt him lean onto your back, coming closer to your ear, his hot breath hitting the side of your neck. “Is that all you can take?” He teased. Tears welled up in your eyes as your cunt went into overdrive trying to adjust to him. “Don’t be a hog, Atsushi-“ Aomine groaned. You heard Atsushi sigh. The last thing you remember was feeling his hands trace down your thighs to the pit of your legs, reaching lower until he had his elbows in your leg outs before lifting up. You let a short Yelp when you felt yourself suddenly be lifted up. The once darkening shadow you were under was gone, you were now fully exposed to the light - fully exposed to them. With your legs up to your face, Murasakibara held you up like you weighed nothing - your cunt on full display to the audience. The new angle tightened you up more - causing a bit of Murasakibaras dick to slip out.

“Is that all you can take?” Aomine chuckled. “Baby, he’s only halfway in.”

Before you could process what he said, Murasakibara thrust up into you. Your mouth opened but no noise came out, just a sharp gasp. Your body felt numb as Murasakibara pushed the last bit of his dick into you. He stopped - half out of pity and letting you adjust and half out of wanting to feel your pussy wrapped around his dick - and that’s when you finally looked down. The indent of his dick in your pussy left you speechless - ‘how the fuck did I take that?’ - but it didn’t last for long. Murasakibars began to thrust, his hips bucking up and sliding his dick in and out of you.

The stinging only lasted a few thrusts before you felt his dick practically ram into your g spot. You immediately melted into his touch - your body relaxing and muscles tensing down - loud moans began to escape your lips with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room - though it wasn’t loud enough to drown out your moans - the sound echoing in the small room.

“Why don’t you go out your hands to use, Shintarō?” Aomine said looking over at Midorima. Without hesitation, Midorima got up, almost like he’d been waiting for his turn, and walked over to you. Murasakibara didn’t stop for him - still continuing to pound into you while letting out a string of slurred words. You looked too dazed to even realize what was going to happen. Midorima raised his hand, gently sliding his fingers down your exposed thighs as they made their way to your swollen bud. Gently ghosting over your clit, he saw an immediate reaction from you - your body jolted and threw Murasakibara off guard. “Fuck-“ Murasakibara adjusted his grip onto you. “Keep sucking me in like that and I’m gonna cum-“

His fingers were still wrapped, now a little soaked from touching you. He took the finger wraps off and turned to face you. He reached up, caressing your cheek as you bounced from having Murasakibaras cock shoved deep in you. He grabbed the bottom of your chin, pulling it down and opening your mouth, not wasting any time shoving his fingers in your mouth. Despite your bouncing you managed to suck on his fingers, your tongue swirling around as a pool of spit built up in your mouth. Midorima pulled his fingers out, watching you pout at the sudden loss. Without hesitation, he brought his fingers down on your clit - pressing down on it just enough to evoke a reaction. You let out a loud while when you felt him slowly begin to circle your clit - his touch was gentle, yet so calculated.

Midorima toyed with your clit, relishing in the various Noises you made. At first, he was teasing you, but then he started to go faster - his slender fingers flicking, circling and pressing down on your clit - it didn’t take long for your body to be overstimulated. You threw your head back and began to squirm, cumming as you felt the boys draw out your orgasm. When you felt Midorimas fingers pull away you thought that they were done, your legs felt like jelly and your cunt felt like it was going to fall off.

“Let's change positions,”

You looked up and saw Aomine, the same devilish smile on his face. You felt Murasakibara loosen his grip on you, gently putting you down on the ground to stand up - but your legs said otherwise. You stumbled, Aomine catching you. “Why don’t you sit down,” he said as he gently began to help you sit down on the ground - what seemed like a kind gesture soon revealed its true colours when you felt yourself sit on what felt like someone. You looked down and saw long legs, turning back to see Murasakibara sitting against the locker wall with his dick out, standing straight up. You looked back over and Aomine, who stared down at you with dilated pupils.

He stood back up, hands going straight to his pants as he pulled down to reveal his dick. Soon the other two joined, standing in front of you and taking out his dicks. You felt Murasakibaras hands on your hips again, gasping when you felt him easily maneuver you onto his dick, sliding it between your pussy lips before pushing it in. You sat down on his dick, taking it all until the end, feeling sort of relieved to be filled up again. Closing your eyes you began to grind on his dick, generating some friction.

Opening your eyes you were greeted by the tip of Midorimas dick mere inches away from your face. His bright pink head was all you could see until you looked up. Your eyes met with Midorimas light green eyes, the once modest and embarrassed glimpses had turned into shameless, lustfully staring. You knew what he wanted - you were surprised that he of all of them would be so bold to step up. You were unsure of what the plan was - there were four guys and only two of them had their dicks insight, or in you - confused you looked round to see where the rest had gone, getting caught off guard when you saw Aomine standing to your side with his dick hard and practically in your face. "Don't act dumb, princess," He chuckled. You turned to the other side, this time not being surprised at the sight of Kagami's dick. You turned your head back to the man in front of you, wondering how your body was going to stay coordinated during this.

Maybe it was that piano lesson you had taken all those years back, but you found yourself on beat with every movement coming to you from the men all around you. Your knees ached from the constant friction they had to endure from the hard, concrete floor, your skin rubbing against it each time you lifted yourself off Murasakibaras dick, his large hands stationed at your hips to help support you. Midorimas dick slid deep down your throat every time you lifted yourself up, while your hands pumped both Aomines and Kagami's dick, sliding to the bottom of their shaft when you rose and coming down to their throbbing heads when you went back down.

This was all that Midorima could hope for. He could feel the tension from the game melt away from each thrust into your mouth, having his head so deep in you was a gamble. It was exciting. The uncertainty, the adrenaline release - he didn't know if it would be his last every time he would feel your lips touch the bottom on his dick. He thought that he'd cum after mapping out every grove of your esophagus, not looking down and locking eyes with you. The same eyes that he knew followed him as he made his way off the court, the same eyes that would look up at him after you'd tell him he did so good at practice, the same eyes he'd spend hours awake beating his dick to now looking up at him with pure drunk lust. It was like some perverted fantasy of his was coming true - wrong - it was his perverted fantasy coming true. Throwing his head back he bucked into your mouth one last time before cumming into your mouth, his hot cum leaking down your throat. You stopped moving at the sudden orgasm - the last of cum filling your senses, the twisted excitement causing your core to throb, and your hands to instinctively hold onto something to brace yourself. That led off a chain reaction - the sudden clenching caused Murasakibara to cum, the sudden squeezing made Kagami cum, a string of curses leaving his lips as he bucked into your hands.

For a second the world stopped moving - all you could feel was cum. Leaking in between your thighs, out of your mouth and down your cheek.

"Take your tits out for me princess," Was all you heard that caused you to snap back into reality. You looked up and saw Aomine standing in front of you, pumping his dick. "Take out your fucking tits-" He groaned. You unbuttoned your dress shirt, sliding it down to your elbows and pulling down your bra - your hands going up and pressing your breast together. Aomine let out a deep groan before he came - his hot semen sputtering on the tender flesh of your breasts. Once Aomine dick went limp you finally put pressure off your knees and leaned back into Murasakibaras's chest, panting.

"So - how're we going to clean this up?" You asked.

ok it’s time to get weirder everyone.

DREAM SMP CHARACTERS | TECHNOBLADE

(Ear)ring - B.H.

a/n: not a request this time, whew, but I hope everyone likes this all the same! I actually really liked writing this one and do not immediately hate it lmao, this idea just came to me a few nights ago lmao

length: 2.5k

warnings: none? fluff? ig ooc billy but like is it really ooc if this how i write him lmao

pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

summary: you want something to wear that's billy's, but all of his rings are too big for you, so there's always something else.

If it were anyone else in his room, looking through his things and touching them, Billy might've snapped. He might've been a bit more cagey, paid a bit more attention. But it was you, and as far as he was concerned there wasn't a thing in his room he needed to hide from you. The worst thing you'd find was a stupid magazine, but he already had a porn star poster on his wall. Had since long before the two of you started dating. At this point, it filled empty space on his walls.

Besides, you were part of him at this point. Billy had no qualms with you being in his space, touching his things. You knew what he didn't like you doing and vice versa at this point.

So, while you look through his tapes, he lays on his bed leaning against the backboard, a book opened in one hand while the other rests behind his head. His stereo playing one of the tapes he had made in collaboration with you. The music taste between the two of you had been on two sides of a spectrum but sharing them with one another was the only time Billy enjoyed your music taste. If anyone else tried to make him listen to it, he'd hate it.

When the final song finished, you pulled the tape out and put another one inside, this time the music was definitely a mix he had made only for himself, yet you still smiled while it played.

Seemingly bored of your rummaging through his various tapes of music, you pulled yourself off the floor, making an exaggerated sound like you were an older person getting out of bed. You had a little hop to your step when you stood straight and made a beeline for his dresser, covered in various trinkets.

"The fuck was that?" Billy questions the noise you made, looking away from the book Hard Times and looking to you, "sounded like an old ass man."

You shrug, "just practicing for when I'm an old lady."

"Keep practicing," he rolls his eyes and turns back to his book.

He doesn't see it, but he knows you're sticking your tongue out at him like a child.

On his dresser are a variety of things. A shirt he haphazardly threw on top rather than putting it away or in the laundry bin, a few different hair products that he liked to use, chapstick that you left at his house so if you forgot your other one you could use this one when you were there (he also used it too now), a few tapes he hadn't put away, a random book, and a little dish with different rings inside.

The dish was what beckoned your attention as you began to look through it.

Billy had a lot of rings. All of them were rather thick, made of silver or something else of the same colour. Some had designs on them, but most were rather plain to look at. He didn't wear them all at once, but somedays he'd wear a few on his hands. Sometimes he'd switch one out for another. But the one ring he never took off was one that had belonged to his mother. It was on his hand always.

Plucking a simpler ring from the dish, one that also looked a bit smaller than the others, you put it on your index finger. Too big. You tried your ring finger. Nope, way too big. Your thumb. Still no. It felt weird, definitely not meant for that finger.

Going through a few more, it gave you the same results. Rings too big for your smaller hands; it truly put into perspective just how much bigger Billy was than you in almost every aspect there was. Taller than you, buffer than you, bigger hands, feet.

You sighed dramatically, "you have huge hands you know?"

Billy looks up from his book again, this time looking at you almost as if you'd grown another head. To others, he likely would have come across as annoyed, but you knew how to read his face better than others.

And suddenly it's turning from mild confusion to a smirk on his lips, a glint in his eyes. You'd given him a perfect opening you realize, preparing yourself for whatever his brain had prepared for you.

"There are a lot of things about me that are big sweetheart," he almost purrs when he speaks. He sounds confident, snarky, and amused. If you weren't across the room you'd have playfully hit his shoulder gently.

But as it was, the best you could give him was a pointed look and a few words.

"Sure," you respond with an eye roll, "sometimes you are so..."

You look for a word that expresses itself properly but find yourself coming up empty; Billy however is quick on the draw- he always is.

"Sexy, the best fuck-" He offers words without much thought, only looking into your eyes- blue ones piercing through you as he smirks. He knows what he's doing. He always does.

"Annoying," you quickly cut off his words, huffing as your ears heat up, "I was thinking of the word annoying."

"That's not what you said the other night in your room."

"Oh my God, Billy."

"Yeah, that's more like what you were saying."

This time you don't even bother to offer him a response, too flustered to even try. You know it will be thrown back at you as you inevitably give him more ammunition to tease.

Instead, you puff your cheeks out akin to a child and turn your back to him once more busying yourself with the dish of rings in front of you on the dresser. Picking some of them up and looking at them in your hands but not really noticing them anymore.

Billy watches you fully now, dog-earing the page of his book he's stopped on instead of using a bookmark (he'd lose that shit so fast, and really, this is much faster and easier to do) and throws his book to the side on his bed. Stretching his muscles out a bit, he moves to stand to his full height, putting his arms up to stretch and then letting them fall.

Either you're ignoring him and what he's doing, or you're really enraptured with the rings in the dish. Billy is fairly sure it's the former.

It doesn't stop him from slithering his way up behind you and resting his heavy hands on your waist, digging his fingers into your sides roughly, but not enough to actually hurt you.

It elicits a small noise from your lips, one that emboldens the dirty blonde behind you as he pulls his body fully against your back, capturing you in his firm grasp.

His head dips to rest his chin on your shoulder and so he can peer into your face and gauge your emotions. Get your attention. But you're stubborn, and even though he can physically feel the way your body melts a smidge into his own, enjoying his presence and touch.

Your body always gave you away.

Your eyes stayed trained on the ring in your hand however and Billy watched the way you played with it.

"You want one?" He asks you, waiting. If he could pull you closer into his body he would.

You don't answer, trying your hardest to keep up the act of silence against him for teasing you. You aren't that mad in reality, it's just the principle of the thing you started.

And part of you enjoys the moves he makes to coax you to speak.

"You can take one," he continues, taking the ring out of your hand behind you and taking one of your smaller hands into his, slipping the ring onto one of your fingers where it sits loosely, not fitting whatsoever, "small ass fuckin' hands."

There's something about how he puts the silly little (it is not little and it's probably silver plated or platinum) ring onto your finger that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

It's the imagery of him doing so that makes you feel a spark. Makes you feel something deep in the pit of your stomach, something telling you that one day you hope he does this again, but for a different reason and with a ring that fits.

But that wasn't important right now. You were still young.

"Yeah, like I said... You have big hands," you finally speak, clearing your throat nervously, "It's too bad. Wearing something that's yours would be nice."

"You wear my shit all the time. Isn't that my shirt?"

It was, in fact, his shirt.

"That's not what I mean, I mean something like this. That I don't have to take off... It's like... Having a piece of you with me, all the time. No matter how far we are from one another or whatever happens to either of us, it's like a piece of you is with me always."

It was so cliché. And Billy's continued silence after you spoke only made you cringe at yourself. Albeit the words were true, and you meant them from the bottom of your heart, you also recognized how silly and corny it sounded. Billy wasn't corny, he wasn't mushy and soft like that. He had to be rolling his eyes you just couldn't see.

"Okay, go ahead and laugh."

But rather, Billy was just staring. Not rolling his eyes, making any jokes. You couldn't see this because he was still behind you, your back pressed against his front. But he wasn't preparing himself to laugh or make fun.

If you were anyone else, maybe he would have. If he heard someone else say something like that to someone he would've rolled his eyes and thought it was the corniest shit ever. But this wasn't the case.

It was you. And it made his chest tighten. The implication that one day maybe there was a possibility that life could tear you away from him or vice versa wasn't something that Billy liked to think about or entertain.

As far as he was concerned, nothing could happen. Not if he didn't think about it in the moment.

Pulling himself away from you suddenly, you missed the sudden loss of his warmth and his body against yours, the way his hands molded around your body.

You worried for a moment that you'd said something wrong. But you couldn't get a word in as you watched him move around his room.

Billy was on a mission, he went to a dresser beside his bed and knelt down. Inside the drawer was where he kept the few earrings he had and liked to wear in his single pierced ear.

He didn't like leaving them out in the open. His father used the fact he had his ear pierced against him. Neil would probably throw them out or use them as more ammunition against his son if he saw them sitting out.

Picking out one of the earrings- one that dangled- Billy stood up straight again and made his way back to you.

He took your chin into one of his hands and tilted your head to the side, then tilted it to the other side before settling it back to look directly at him.

"Left or right?"

"What?"

"Left or right, Jesus, which ear do you want this in?"

He dangled the earring in his hand in front of your face, as if it was obvious what he wanted and you were just annoying him.

In reality, he was very much unused to this- this feeling and the actions he was taking.

"Oh, right-" you quickly catch on as your heart swells, taking your small stud silver earring out from your left ear, holding it in your hand, waiting.

Billy's hands are gentle. Actually very gentle in this moment. You know him to be heavy-handed- not on purpose. The way he holds your hand is tighter than other people might, or the way he holds you is tight and you're always pulled against him. In bed, he's leaving his fingers indented on your body. He's never hurt you, but by default, he's rougher than other people.

But right now, as he takes the dangly earring and holds it so close to your ear, he is the most gentle you've ever seen him. He's so carefully placing the earring into the small hole in your earlobe, making sure it's in and not going to come out.

His fingers are warm against your ear and skin, and it feels peaceful. The way his knuckles brush against the side of your face as he puts the earring in. You just want him near you.

Billy's hands pull away once the piece of jewelry is secure, taking your face in his hands again, slightly squeezing your cheeks together as he does so. Seemingly admiring his handiwork and his earring in your ear, his face that he'd been keeping neutral seems to brighten a smidge and you note the upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"Looks good," he says suddenly, turning your face to look into the mirror on his wall.

The earring moves at the movement, dangling and touching the skin below your ear softly and it sort of tickles. But he's right, it does look good. Maybe it's a bit odd in contrast to your other ear, stud alone while the other is more dramatic, but you love it all the same. It's his, it's him, and he's letting you wear it.

"Give me your earring."

His hand is out expectantly, waiting for you to drop the object he's referring to into his open palm. Focused on admiring the earring in your ear and the warm feeling in your stomach, it confuses you for a few seconds as he moves his hand in a motion that repeats his previous words but this time only in his actions.

You place the object into his hand and he's easily moving, removing the small hoop he decided to wear in his ear that day and putting it on the dresser beside the dish of rings as he pulls the back off your simple silver stud.

He slips it into his own piercing hole and closes the back as if it's second nature, not messing up or having trouble finding where the hole is. 

It looks so simple for someone like Billy Hargrove. It's a little circle stud, not a hoop or a dangly piece. But it makes your eyes widen and fill with the beginning of tears.

It's the act of him doing this that makes you want to cry. The fact that he didn't just leave it at giving you his earring to wear, but also wearing yours in return. It is so goddamn cheesy, corny, cliché maybe. But your heart doubles in size when you look at him.

"Not as cool as my earring but..." he looks at himself in the mirror, making you turn to look as well, facing a reflection of the two of you with his earring in your ear and one of yours in his, "It's you."

It's you. That's how you feel. It's him. And it will always be him.