Izayanara - ZaZnaya

Do you have any good exophilia blog recommendations? Love your blog! It gives me a lot of life! <3

First of all, I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to respond. My week has been insane. Second...omg, thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoy it!

I have a TON of blogs, but it will take me a minute to compile them in a list. However, I will be happy to do so and tag you in it when I do!

Okay, hear me out.

After you and Billy has an argument over god knows, your crying on the couch whilst Billy had gone out to get some air. It’s his cooling down mechanism but you are too so he feels like even more shit for leaving you behind upset so every time he will without a doubt come home with flowers. Sometimes it might be one or the next it will be a bouquet but he always walks through the door maybe an hour later with a saddened look to see you so crushed.

He’ll put the flowers on a table or on the floor and sit at your feet, no words shared as his thumbs swipe away the tears, gentle eyes that was only given to you staring into your soul as he takes your hands next to kiss with such delicacy. He’s got a heavy touch so it feels like he’s grabbing you almost but it all gets made up for with his soft plump lips that he cares for with chapstick you give him every few months when he’s run out.

If you guys haven’t had dinner yet after your both calm, he’ll cook before going to bed with you in his arms. Though if you hadn’t forgiven him, he’s still at his knees for you, showering you and pampering you the rest of the night but if even that wasn’t enough; he’ll sleep on the couch till morning and make you breakfast in bed. He loves you a lot and shouting at you hurts even more than when his dad used to. He doesn’t want his girl feeling scared of him so if he has to carry you like one of them royals on a bed, he will do it.

Hope your feeling well, Lovely. <3

a/n: Okay so sorry this took so long; I write so slow and I've been writing multiple things but this was so cute I LOVE the idea of it sm. I wanted to do like every single thing in there, but I couldn't cause it'd be wayyyy too long and idk how many people wanna read that, and also just, I'd be making contradictions in the story asdfghjkl. I hope you're feeling well too bby! <3

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: Text-heavy; not a lot of dialogue, mentions of arguments/yelling, trauma-related emotions, maybe OOC Billy? abuse mention

Pink Roses - B.H.

The moment Billy walked out the door, he regretted it.

He regretted fighting with you, he regretted the yelling and the words the both of you would hurl at one another in your anger. He regretted that he'd hurt you, knowingly too.

He regretted being like his father.

You always insisted he wasn't his father. He was Billy Hargrove, not Neil Hargrove. But sometimes, when things got hard, or when he was alone with too many thoughts, he'd find himself feeling like the man who made his life miserable before he'd met you.

Billy never hit you. He could never even imagine doing that. The closest he'd come to ever hurting you was grabbing your wrist, and he was stronger than he realized- it's what he got for weight lifting. And his bodies instinctual response to fight and defend. He needed to really pay attention to how heavy his hand was, even in moments of love. It was never intentional.

But he tortured himself. He told himself that maybe that was who he really was and he was just trying to hide it; that really, he was an abuser like his father, and that he would only ruin you. Like how his father ruined his mother, ruined him, ruined everything he ever touched.

As guilty as he felt leaving you in the house, the small home you two had gotten in Hawkins (as much as he wanted to go to California or something, the two of you were still young and Max was still here, still a teen), most definitely crying, alone, he wouldn't go back just yet. He knew better than that at this point.

Years together, being away from his father, you, surviving Starcourt, it all helped. It gave him the chance to work on himself without the heavy hand of a parent that despised him. Almost dying, not being able to control himself and his actions quite literally, everything, it made him think.

But he still struggled. An entire life thus far of abuse and abandonment wasn't something that could easily be undone. In fact, it was likely that even with time and change, there would still be parts of him that would peak through. Parts of him that would never trust properly, or would retain fear and anger in horrible ways.

So he knew, right now, he needed air. Even with regret, his blood was still pumping fast. He still felt the remnants of anger and adrenaline from the yelling match the two of you had just had. So staying away for now was better than walking back in. Even if he wanted to.

You always told him that was progress: the acknowledgement and realisation that his emotions were dangerous, and the willingness to separate himself for his own good and others.

He always just said it would be better if it never happened at all.

The cool air was a balm to his burning blood. The way it whipped around his Camaro as he drove aimlessly made him feel better. It quieted his thoughts and allowed him to breathe. The radio played a song, one he didn't really have any particular feelings for, but it was better than empty silence.

When the driving fast (something he knew you'd get angry at him for) and the loud music from his radio (if you were there right now, you'd be singing with it just as loud) ran it's course and he no longer felt as angry, or angry at all, he pulled his car into a strip of small stores.

He didn't even bother to turn his car off, leaving it on but locked as he entered one of the small stores. They sold various things inside, but the item he came for was the flowers; they always had so many different ones and you always mentioned how beautiful they were.

It felt juvenile as he picked out flowers. He knew nothing of the 'language of flowers' but he remembered Max mentioning that pink roses are a symbol of apology; asking for forgiveness and to show gratitude, appreciation.

And Max only knew that because Lucas had gotten them for her, on more than one occasion. Billy always knew when Max and Lucas had a fight, or broke up (again, god, he keeps asking her why she keeps going back if they've broken up at least six times already, she says he 'wouldn't get it,') he would see pink roses in the house when he still lived there.

He had gotten sick of the colour pink.

But now it wasn't so annoying to look at, not when he looked at the pink roses and thought to himself- thought about you and whatever it was you argued about. He couldn't even really pinpoint the exact reason for whatever triggered the argument, which made it all the more silly. He looked at the roses in his passenger seat where you always sat, driving back home to you.

He couldn't be sick of the colour pink. Not when it's meaning in those flowers was something he felt. He loved you, and he was thankful for you. Always sorry after a fight. It would always be you, no one else was meant for him like you were- no amount of arguments or sullied words could change the fact that it would always be you.

He understood Max more than she knew. More than he realised too.

---

Inside the small house, you lay curled up on the couch. It smells like him. Everything in the damn house smells like him; his cologne, cigarettes (he tried to smoke outside most of the time but it wasn't always) and it only made your eyes water once again.

You regret it the moment he walks out the door, slamming it shut behind him. You regret the volume of your voice and the words you spoke. You regret letting him walk out.

But you also respected that he did so. It could've easily went differently. His measuring of his own emotions, allowing him to remove himself from the situation; that was something more new.

You couldn't look at him and not say he made progress everyday.

Whatever the argument had been lost on you the moment you fall onto the couch in tears. Hagard breathes from anger and adrenaline. Angry tears become sad ones, lonely ones. And you just wish he was there. Even if you're mad.

Only Billy Hargrove knows how to make you this upset, and only Billy Hargrove knows how to make you feel better.

It's the double edged sword of being so close to someone; so close to him. You know each others flaws, you know their weak spots and the words to use to dig in deep- but you also know the words to make them feel better, the touch to comfort them and calm them down.

It's so contradictory. Your body and mind are angry with him, but at the same time, they want him there, to make you feel better.

It takes time for him to come back. However long had passed, you aren't sure, because the time blurs together as you lay on the couch, tears still spilling down your cheeks. You hate them because you can't control them and they just seem insistent on sticking around.

But you know it's late because the light isn't coming from the windows, and when he opens the front door, maybe a bit gingerly, you hear crickets, and no cars.

You hear his heavy steps; booted feet hitting the faded hardwood floor. Parts of you flood with relief now that he's back. The house feels fuller once more, but all the same, there is a pain and anger in you. The metaphorical temperature is still cool in the house as the memories of an argument too intense for its own good linger.

You're not facing him, rather, facing the inside back cushions of the couch, one of your arms under your head like a makeshift pillow while the other rests curled up into your chest. You smell is cologne when he walks closer; stronger than it was on the furniture. Invading your senses.

The crinkling from the flowers Billy brought back with him interrupt dead silence; he places them on the floor beside the couch before he lowers himself onto the floor as well, back to you, just as you had yours to his, resting an arm on his propped up knee.

It stays quiet. There's nothing neither your nor him can find it in you to say. Words that should be said, words that want to be said, stay locked behind your tongues. Stuck in your throats.

If he was still angry, Billy might've walked in, and scoffed at the sight of you crying on the couch. He might've rolled his eyes and ignored you. But he wasn't angry anymore. And it was something that he had worked on.

He was only sad when he saw your body on the couch. He only felt heartbroken, and wanted to take back everything that happened. It was an emotion he was used to. Regret. But it was one he spent his entire life burying.

There hadn't been time to feel regret. Not when every action he made had been a response to the abuse he had experienced. Not when, in his life, he had only known the feeling of trying to survive in a world that seemed to be against him from the start. There was no place for regret then.

But now he was safer than he had been before. And he could feel regret for his actions; truly, deeply, feel them.

And hurting you, in any way, shape, or form, was something he regretted.

It was quiet. No noise save for the breathing from both of you. But eventually, the quiet breaks when he moves his body from where he sits at your feet, basically crawling his way to where your head sits. The sound of his leather jacket he had yet to take off evaded your senses as he brought himself closer.

You wanted to look at him. So you swallowed any embarrassment you felt for crying, or any lingering negative emotions and pettiness, and slowly maneuvered to turn over onto your other side.

His beautiful blue eyes met yours, and they looked sad. Your eyes could only fill with tears you had believed had dried up by now, but rather, they were waiting for something to trigger them again.

His larger hand, rings and all, reached up and he used his thumb to wipe the tears that built up from your eyes, barely giving them the chance to fall. He was heavy handed, as gentle as he tried to be, so the way he did it almost made you crack a sad smile. It was like he was getting ready to fight the tears away if he had to, like they were a physical opponent. It's as if he's grabbing your face more than wiping your tears away.

But you don't care, because it's him. It's absolutely, perfectly, Billy Hargrove. Heavy handed by nature, it is filled with emotion and care. He doesn't hurt you. And it feels like protection whenever he does touch you this way. You could fade away into his hands, you loved them so much. It made more tears fill your eyes. This man, you couldn't lose this man. And every time you argued you worried, maybe he won't come back.

He always did however.

His eyes look so gentle. Something that only you have ever gotten to experience. For Billy Hargrove was tough, he was angry in most things and empty eyes were an easy way to keep people at a distance. But you saw every emotion that no one else did. 

Engulfing your hand with his own after he takes it, it feels tingly. Warm. He's always been like a personal heater (something you loved in the cold but hated in the summer because he would wrap himself around you and not let go till you cried uncle) and it feels good in those moments to have his hand holding yours. It feels like he's holding your hand more than you're holding his, grabbing it. It's his heavy touch.

His plump lips touch the skin on your knuckles softly. They're soft, and warm, and you can tell he's still using the chapstick you get him every few months. Because as much as you loved feeling his lips on your own, he was definitely just stealing the chapstick off your lips at that point and it was only fair if you could do the same.

"...'m sorry."

It's so quiet and muffled when he says it that you almost miss it. But you're so close and it's so quiet around you that you do hear it. Words are hard for him, words of remorse and apologies, it's always been hard. But he's saying it, he's trying.

The pink roses on the floor beside him finally catch your eye and you feel your chest fill with an overwhelming love and warmth.

"I'm sorry too," you respond, voice wobbly as you pull yourself closer to him while also pulling his head closer to you where you can rest your forehead against his own.

One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your neck, holding it with some pressure as his fingers touch your hair and he digs his fingers into it if he can.

"I'll do better."

You shake your head abruptly, almost horrified that he thinks he's not doing better or not doing good enough at this pace right now.

"No, you are doing better," you say firmly, looking into his eyes sternly, still glossy with tears, "I'll do better too."

"Guess we both have to do better," he says with a hint of humour. His smile, it's so beautiful. It is one of your most favourite sights in the entire world.

"I love you Billy."

He's silent at first, as he slightly pulls back from you. It doesn't matter how many times you say it to him, it's still sometimes surreal. Since he was a child and his mother left, no one told him they loved him. But you came into his life, and told him more than he thought he deserved.

"Is this a shit time to say I got flowers?" He's good at changing the subject. He's said he loves you before, but sometimes its overwhelming. Giving love to someone and it being given back tenfold, "Cause they were expensive and need water, or whatever."

You laugh. A small, but genuine laugh. You love this man, and you know you always will.

"They're beautiful; the Lucas and Max special? I'll put them in a vase if you go get dinner started- unless you ate when you left?" You say as you begin sitting up, Billy moving back and getting up himself, dropping a heavy kiss to your lips as he does so.

"Screw off," he responds with no malice, rolling his eyes playfully, "Max only gets one of these shits at a time from her boyfriend, I got you the whole bouquet. And no, I didn't."

"A real man," you jokingly say, plucking the bouquet that he had picked up when he stood up himself from his hands, you stand there for a moment looking at them. They smell amazing, and it's mixed with his scent. Smells like his car, like his cologne. They're beautiful. You almost get lost in them, "...thank you."

He's already going to your small open kitchen when you speak again, grabbing the singular glass that is tall enough for the flowers and putting it on the small table for you while he's also grabbing a pan.

"Don't tell Max, for Christ's sake," he bemoans, "I won't hear the end of that shit."

"Good thing I invited her for dinner tomorrow."

"What? Babe, come on..."

You don't offer him a response as you smile to yourself; he's sulking only a bit and mumbling to himself as he grabs things to start cooking. Things go quiet once more as you unwrap the flowers and cut off their thorns.

"...love you too."

Yeah. He was the only man you'd ever love.

Hi, can you please write for aomine something like his gf isn't the out-going type of gal and he always tries to do a shit ton of touchy stuff so he can get her flustered and always tries to make her horny af, like he loves that shes like another person with him and the rest of the world lol, I HOPE THIS MAKESSS SENSEEE!!!!!! and I reallllyyyyy love your writing likeeeee ufffff honey (iT GETS ME IN THE MOODS SET IF YOU GET ME 😉) BUT lol ima stop being creepy now

Tags: fingering, sweet dirty talk, use of bunny,

a/n: Yes it makes sense bby! And thank you so much!!

-

“Baby” he teased, watching you do your best to hide the heat growing in your face after he smothered you in kisses, not caring about the fact that you two weren’t alone a few minutes ago. “Come here”.

HIs arm wrapping around shoulder snapped your eyes towards his. "you ok bunny?" he asked, waiting for you to squirm again, loving how worked up he could get you just from a name.

Your shy face let out a slight grin, completely wrapped around his finger, "i-i um..... feel, good," you muttered out, hiding your face under the covers as he sat beside you, trying his best not to just eat you up. "You feel good bunny?" He grabbed you into his arms lowering you onto his lap.

You moaned at the feeling of his touch, being so sensitive as he knew, knowing how easy it was to get you to fall apart. All he had to do was whisper in your ear and you'd tremble in his grasp, your pretty little eyes watering as he kissed your neck, clinging onto him so tight, so precious.

You were pulled back onto his chest as you felt his big  hands wandering all over your body, slowly and gently, wanting to take his time and drag every sound and expression out of you. "You're so pretty, my little bunny." He whispered into your ear, his hot breath making you twitch, just how he liked it.

“You get like this just for me bunny, huh?" he smirked, trying to hold back his fat smile as you melted into his arms.

You closed your eyes feeling his gaze on you, his fingers sliding your clothes off while kissing the top of your head, so tiny under him. He pulled you by your neck, firmly grabbing it as you didnt respond, knowing that you were his good girl and he expected you to act like one.

You whimpered, "Y-yeah… just for you," as you sighed in relief as he let go, his fingers loosening their grip, moving there way to your panties as he smirked again. "There's my good girl.” he cooed. You're gonna be a good bunny for me right?"

He pushed his lips on the side of your jaw, bending down enough to reach you, leaving wet sloppy kisses behind your ear as your eyes started watering from the pleasure. You let out a little moaned “yeah” again while his finger was tracing circles onto your clothed clit. 

His other hand moved up from your tummy to under your shirt grabbing your soft tits while pinching your nipples, knowing that you got weak when he touched them. "A-ah minnie!" You whined leaning back onto his chest as your panties were see though now. His hands get rougher with every second, grabbing onto you tits while rubbing harsher and harsher as you couldn't help but grind onto his cock, nothing felt sweeter than when his name left your sweet lips.

His cock got even harder from your ass moving onto it squirming around in his lap. He locked your thighs in place with the arm he was using to play with your soaked cunny. Whimpers left your mouth as you kept grinding your hips as much as you could, not even caring to try to hold back the noises coming between your lips.

"Fuck  bunny, stay still" his deep voice grunted into your neck, watching your his fingers get drenched in you slick. "minnie l-lemme, -ah p-please c-cum? Daddy plea-" Your hot cunt sucking his fingers as his thumb was abusing your poor clit, feeling so overwhelmed by his affection, while he brought you closer to the edge.

"you gonna cum bunny? Cum round my fingers stretching out that little pussy of yours?" Your soft moans, drowned out the lewd sounds of your wetness getting slapped against you cunt. “N-no i want…”

“Hmm bunny,  what do you want? Gotta speak up or daddy can't hear you.”

“I -ah, want, your… cock, please” you sobbed, tears running down your face, eyes red and swollen as ever, and he thinks you're the prettiest hes ever seen you, looking like a beautiful mess while begging for him to fuck you

He quickly took off his boxers, already lining up with your needy dripping cunt  as you cried even more, clinging onto him as his chest was against you back. Pussy so wet and inviting, sucking him in. “Thats a good girl, all you had to do was ask”

my boyfriend billy hargrove headcanons

alarmingly protective

tries to keep you in check with bad behavior as much as possible, doesn’t want you turning into him

like if you’re upset one day and cussing up a storm he’ll tell you to stop and probably say something like “that’s not good for you,”

doesn’t like exhaling his smoke around you because of second hand smoke, around anyone else he wouldn’t care but, you? big no no

unless you ask him to blow smoke into your face or mouth, then of course he’ll do that

dacryphilia, enough said

not really good with heart to heart conversations,

they mainly only arise when he’s super vulnerable like after a fight with his dad

you’re constantly fixing up his cuts and bruises, whatever they may be from this time around

let’s you wear his leather coats only deep enough into the relationship to where he knows he can trust you

when cuddling, holds you indescribably close, longing to make up for the lack of it he never got as a child

earlier in the relationship tho, you two stayed to your opposite sides of the bed,

until one night after a brutal fight with his dad, he climbed through your window and let you fix him up. that night as you lay down, he pulled you into his chest for the first time, and you knew some barriers had finally been broken.

climbing. through. your. window. all the time.

he won’t let you tell anyone but he has a secret love for video games and on off days, he’ll bribe keith so you guys can have the arcade all to yourselves

sometimes will have shutdown periods to where you think he’s ignoring you but in truth, he’s gone off the grid from everyone and will most likely not be back for a couple of days

he’ll be back tho, and you’re the first person he comes to, explaining it wasn’t your fault and never will be and that he just needed his time.

always smells incredible

actually very clean and keeps excellent hygiene

bad jealousy issues. will usually act out at the smallest detail. you’ll calm him down, tell him you’re his and only his, and he’s usually back to normal in a good few minutes.

territorial. leaves hickeys in very visible places, insists on driving you home from school almost every day, throws his arm around you whenever he can sense someone lurking +etc

car sex. all the time. any messes tho and you’re cleaning.

late night drives frequently

spoiling you but being very discreet about it. something like “you said you needed new perfume so,” *tosses you a new expensive perfume, carelessly*

when in fights, he usually takes a drive to calm himself down. he fears he’ll turn into something worse if kept in close proximity when angry with you although you both know he’d never hurt you

when sleeping over either at his place or yours, and he has trouble falling asleep, he’ll light a cigarette in the middle of the night, in bed, and attempt to soothe himself that way by just smoking one

can be mean but that’s to be expected, you’ve grown to take it. although if he ever goes too far, and he notices, he won’t apologize but do something indirectly like a hand to your thigh or a “you ok?”

avid coffee drinker but again, won’t let you tell anyone because that’s “lame” and “for old people”

when in his lifeguard era, sneaks you into the pool after hours just so you can both night swim in peace and maybe skinny dip

was actually the first to say i love you, one night whilst you were applying rubbing alcohol to a cut on his lip,

“this is gonna sting,” *dabs* *silence* “y/n,” “yeah?” “i love you”

has only cried in front of you once, again after you had finished fixing him up and cleaning up some cuts, he began to cry, hard, so you just pulled him into your chest as he sobbed. neither of you have talked about it since.

gets off on you crying, dacryphilia as aforementioned, but usually only when it’s over something petty. if it’s serious, he knows to switch on the best listening front he can and try to shove those other feelings down.

likes his fair share of alcohol but refuses to let you consume too much

the one time you did, he had to prop you up on his shoulder just to get you home. once home, he laid you down on your bed and stood, kind of clueless as to how to take care of someone in this condition

bonus: on good days, he’ll let you bring max with you as you go out and run errands

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.

HELLO THERE LOVE. Can i request a headcanon of Kise, Midorima, Kagami, Himuro, and Miyahi Kiyoshi reacting to their fem s/o getting injured in a basketball match like kirisaki daichi style? And what would they do to comfort or take care their s/o? Btw i love your blog so much mwuah please stay healthy. ♡

you get kirisaki daichi-injured

a/n: eeeee tysm anon! eat well and have a happy day <3

warnings: reader injuries, basketball player!reader

ft. kise ryouta, midorima shintaro, kagami taiga, himuro tatsuya, kiyoshi teppei

KISE literally was about to run into the court, but kasamatsu had to hold him back as the coach, referee, and other important staff came to circle around you. the person you were versing had elbowed you in the ribs when you caught the rebound ball, and unfortunately cracked them. luckily, the referee had spotten that foul, and kirisaki daichi were banned from competitive play for at least couple years— which kise thought, should be way more. he finally was able to catch you when you were walking towards the benches, and helped you to escort out of the building. outside, he sat you on the bench and allowed you to lean on him. “does it hurt?” he asked softly, careful not to move you around too much. you nodded, “the physician said i can’t play for the rest of the season. why? why do they fucking play like that?” your tears began to fall and he repeatedly kissed your forehead, knowing how much it hurts to stop playing mid-game and feeling useless about it. “you got it next year, y/n-cchi..” he muttered, “i swear, when it’s our turn to verse them, i will beat the living hell out of them. can i sleep over tonight?”

MIDORIMA has never shown so much expression. the minute he saw a basketball thrown to your face, which knocked you down. rage filled his expression and his fists were clenched (gosh, even takao was scared), but he knew better than to interfere with your treatment as the medical team circled around you. when the next game started, he rushed to the infirmary to you, taking your hand to kiss the knuckles. “shintaro, i’m fine.” you smiled, honestly kind of happy about his concern. he eyed your eyepatch, the sides all red and swollen, and frowned. “that’s so fucked up,” he muttered, “i hope they get their karma for that. disqualification is not enough.” you chuckled a bit and sighed, “i can’t play for the rest of this season. this bruise is pretty bad.” midorima frowned again, “i’ll be with you through everything, so don’t struggle alone.” after that, midorima made sure not to let you move so much. and he swore he will get back at kirisaki daichi when it was time for his playoffs.

KAGAMI was literally too stunned to speak. he knew what kirisaki daichi was like, but he never, ever, expected it to happen to you. so when he saw you get squished between two players when you were going for the rebound, he froze, and watched all the people go to circle you. “kagami-kun, you should check up on y/n-san.” kuroko said, nudging him a bit. and suddenly it hit him, and he ran onto the court, pushing the people crowding over you, immediately taking you in his arms. the medical team was hesitant, but he insisted he hold you. “fucking hell, let’s get you to the benches.” he gave the other team the iciest, deadliest glare before carefully guiding you to sit down. when you sat, he made sure your sight was blocked from the other team, not sparing them a glance of your situation. “where does it hurt?” “on a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?” he keeps asking all these probing questions until you kiss him to shut him up. “taiga, i’ll be fine.” you chuckled, “i hope they get fucking disqualified though.” kagami took a first aid kit from his bag (something he keeps on him at all times) and bandaged you up. “we’re gonna fucking get them back.” he uttered, “in the mean time, you’re staying with me.” 

HIMURO was furious. he was the one who called the timeout even though he wasn’t in the position to╴but he didn’t care. he saw, with his two own eyes, a player purposely trip you, then later trample on you to “get to the other side of the court.” “they better get fucking disqualified,” himuro expressed to the coach. with the help of murasakibara, they both brought you to the infirmary, only letting the nurse and teammates see you. when players from kirisaki daichi tried to peek, he slammed the door, yelling at them to go away or go to hell. eventually everyone left and it was just you two. “hey, i’m here.” he whispered to you, stroking your head. “does it hurt? can you move?” you smiled at him and shook your head, “i think i can’t play for a bit.” his heart shattered and gripped your hand, kissing your forehead. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”

KIYOSHI warned you. he told you multiple stories about the times he got personally injured, and how it’s brutal, cruel, and every bad word in the dictionary. he even tried to convince you to skip this match for the sake of keeping you safe, but you insisted that the team needed you, and if something happened, you’ll be okay either way; you couldn’t win if you didn’t try. but the minute the other player pushed you down with the ball when they blocked you, making you crash onto the ground, kiyoshi’s eyes widened and he sprinted onto the court. he did not give a damn about what the referee was yelling about— something along with “you shouldn’t be here,” or “go back, go back!” along with the rest of your teammates and coach, they circled around you, but the only person in your line of vision was kiyoshi. “your nose.. it’s bleeding sweetheart. can someone get me some gauze and tissues?” your teammate quickly obliged, and kiyoshi tried to treat you with so much care, but it hurt too much. “sorry love, i know it hurts.” you shook your head, “thank you so much, teppei.” when you looked in the direction of kirisaki daichi, all of them were smirking and giggling, and the person who caused your injury gave an evil grin at you, sticking their tongue out. you gulped, and when kiyoshi saw what you were staring at, he scowled. “no wonder you guys never go to finals╴you don’t even know how to play.” with that, he guided you to the infirmary, where he whispered sweet nothings as he treated you and you rested. 

*＊✿❀reblogs and likes are appreciated❀✿＊*

Ripe

summary enjoying your favorite summertime snack around the wrong company can be a very dangerous thing to do.

warnings cursing, lots of heat, smut, slight food play, oral fixation-ish, praise, semi-public & risky 

word count 1,912

note i will say that inspiration strikes at the oddest of moments

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was a beautiful summer day as you walked through the gates of the Hawkins Pool. 

Tilting your sunglasses up you scanned the bustling scene for your boyfriend, your ears perking up as a shrill whistle entered the air followed by harsh barking words.

There he was. Berating a pair of twelve-year-old boys for dunking each other in the 5-foot end of the pool.

Pursing your lips around your fingers you mustered a sound capable of hailing a taxi cab. Smiling, you gave him a large wave as he snapped his head in your direction.

Coming over to Billy’s side of the pool you crossed your arms and waited for him to finish his lecture. 

“You wanna die today kid?” the one boy still ashamedly grasping his friend by the collar.

The boy shook his head furiously.

Looming over them menacingly Billy waved them apart, blowing his whistle sharply.

“Didn’t think so.” he scoffed turning to face you.

“Another life saved.” you mused sarcastically.

He smirked, eyes appraising the small sundress on your frame.

“You staying to swim today?” he asked curiously.

You had yet to come to the pool for a swim. Thus far only stopping by to share lunch breaks or say hi on your days off, and he was beginning to worry that you were ducking him.

Allaying his fears, you slyly pulled aside the strap of your dress revealing a thin red bikini strap.

A small groan escaped his lips. 

“Good.”

Pulling the beach bag from your opposite shoulder, you took Billy’s hand as he walked you to a small patch of shade in the grass.

Sitting together, you pulled out a couple brown paper lunch sacks and water bottles. 

Taking his, Billy pulled out a sandwich biting into it immediately.

You giggled, pulling a peach from your lunch bag.

“Wha?” he questioned, ripping off another large portion. 

The sandwich was nearly gone.

“Had I known they worked you this hard, I would have brought you two.” you said tenderly.

He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, opening the small bag of chips with a pop.

“Would you like mine?” you offered.

He almost looked offended, waving his hands in refusal.

“Billy, if you’re still hungry have mine.” you pulled out your sandwich, putting it in his lap.

“It’s not the end of the world…” you smiled encouragingly.

He swallowed hard. Guilty, childlike eyes of appreciation looking back at you.

“Thanks.” he ripped the tinfoil off and tucked into it with vigor as you turned your attentions to your own lunch.

The peach was soft and ripe, giving way with an audible squelch as you bit into its smooth flesh.

It may have actually been a little overripe as juice flowed from the fruit down your chin. Dripping onto your chest and traveling to rest between your cleavage.

You pulled away with a messy mouthful, closing your lips with a loud slurp.

“This was messier then I thought it would be…” you commented innocently, taking another graphic bite.

Billy was slowly chewing, his ears burning with the first wet sounds falling from your lips.

He was watching you now with rapt attention.

Watching those delicate pink pillows wrap and press themselves against the skin of that sinfully moist food. 

Teeth and tongue scraping for the exquisitely sweet meat it had to offer you.

Your mouth pulling off in a lewd, wet burst. Lips shimmering.

You looked immensely content and it was driving him absolutely insane.

Taking care to suckle the last bits of goodness from the pit, you hummed happily.

“I’m a mess. Lemme go clean off… be back in a sec.” you insisted, sucking a bit of juice from your thumb.

Rising to your feet, you wandered towards the women’s locker rooms, tossing the pit in the trash.

Entering the locker rooms you headed off towards the sinks, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist and jerked you inside a nearby changing stall.

About to yell, your eyes widened when you realized who it was.

“Billy?!” you whispered harshly. “You can’t be in here!”

You gruffly pulled the privacy curtain over the entrance, encasing yourselves in the small space.

“Relax…” he murmured with a leer, “the supply closet connects the men’s.”

You weren’t relaxed.

“Why’re you in here?” you inquired, bashfully meeting his eyes.

The corner of his mouth pricked up in sick delight as his broad arms pinned you in on both sides.

Your toes curled in anticipation, resting a palm flat against his bare chest.

You knew that look anywhere. And he knew. 

He knew damn well that he didn’t even have to lay a finger on you, and you would fall right into whatever scheme he was concocting.

He rarely if ever had to ask.

“Here?” you breathed, slightly panicked as the voices of women chattering passed by the curtain and out the door.

He gave a stern nod, his hand lazily lifting one strap of your dress. Drawing it down your shoulder.

Heat was pooling between your legs, a familiar ache overwhelming your core as you chewed your lip. 

“Think you can handle a lil’ challenge princess?” his opposite hand dragging down your other strap, pulling the dress downward and exposing your bright crimson bikini top. 

You looked over at the drape, considering your last momentary thoughts of sanity before locking eyes with him.

Nodding nervously, your head fell back against the stall wall as he instantly attacked you.

Diving, he dipped his face between your breasts, his tongue seeking out the sticky sweet trail of fruit juice that had fallen among them.

A sharp gasp of surprise fell from your mouth, feeling him run his tongue in a thick, flat strip up the length of your sternum approaching your collar bone.

Momentarily pausing at your pulse point, he nipped your skin, testing you.

You bit your lip, holding in a small cry, rolling your hips against him in protest.

“Good girl” he muttered, moving his assault northward.

Craning your neck, pressing yourself flush against the cool metal wall, you attempted to ground yourself. 

His tongue creeping over your chin reaching its final destination.

Biting your lower lip, he pulled you into a hungry kiss. Laving his tongue against your plush lips. Demanding entry, which you willingly obliged.

Slipping your fingers beneath the elastic of his trunks, you ground yourself against him. A low rumble of approval emanating from his throat as his growing arousal pressed up against you.

Deepening the kiss, his hands traveled south roughly grasping your ass, his fingers digging harshly into the skin, making you whimper.

“Have you always owned this set?” he rasped, leaving open mouthed kisses along your jaw and tickling the shell of your ear.

“I bought it two days ago” you squeaked, as a hand cupped your sex.

A deep growl of satisfaction met your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Looks sexy” he commented, hooking a finger in the crotch of your high-leg bottoms and shifting them aside.

An intense thrum of pleasure rumbled in his chest as he lightly dusted his fingers across your folds.

“Ya just make this too easy princess…” dipping his digits lightly at your entrance he withdrew them, to show you. The clear viscous fluid dripping from his fingers.

You looked to the ceiling in silent prayer before returning your gaze to him.

“I can’t help it.” you simpered as he held out his fingers for you.

Taking them into your mouth, you wrapped your tongue around them longingly only to whine lightly as he pulled them from you, replacing his mouth on yours in a searing kiss.

A conceited huff passed his lips, fanning your face. Your hips stuttering as he slipped a single finger inside you.

Idly wagging it, pressing lightly against the spot that could make you scream.

“Ya seem plenty ready to me… What cha’ think princess?” he taunted.

Deep cerulean orbs boring into you for an answer.

Chuffing, a deep blush settled across your cheeks, you were wound tighter than a spring.

“Just… fuck me” you heaved, wrapping your hands around his neck.

A broad smirk broke across his lips as he grabbed your ass, hoisting you up his waist. Pressing you firmly between himself and the wall.

Freeing his erection from his trunks, he lined himself up against your entrance, sinking into your heat.

Your jaw clenched, biting your lip hard to quiet yourself as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Shit princess…” his head lolling at a full tilt, “so fuckin’ tight.” 

You whimpered softly, the light sting of the sudden intrusion making you clench reflexively.

“Always so fuckin’….” he drew back “tight…” thrusting deep.

You choked out an audible moan, your head hitting the wall.

“C’mon now princess… we’re just gettin’ started.” he tutted.

Picking up a steady pace, he claimed your lips. Swallowing down your pathetic whines and pleading cries.

Angling his hips, he drove deeper making your head swim.

“Billy…” you mewled softly, tucking your head against his neck to stifle yourself.

“Somethin’ ta say princess?” he growled with a harsh snap of his hips. The head of his cock hitting your cervix.

You always played this game. The longer it took for you to choke it out, the harder he was going to make it for you.

He rolled his hips, burying himself deep pressing against that nub in a way that could make you cry and wipe your mind blank.

“Speak up…” he taunted, nudging himself up against your sensitivity.

“Ngh...” looking at him through hooded eyes you tried to gain what control you had.

Another abrupt thrust.

Your eyes rolling, you managed what you could.

“Fuck me…” a sharp inhale, “so well…”

He was smiling like the cheshire cat. 

“That so princess?” his pace was gaining steam, your nails grappling against his back for better hold. 

A calloused thumb had found your clit, providing constant pressure in unrelenting circles.

Your back was arching, breath hitching, as your hips started to tremble.

“Billy…” you warned.

“Tell me… say it...” he ground out.

Your walls were beginning to flutter, your climax initiating.

Kissing the juncture of his jaw, your first contraction hit you with a low moan reaching his ear.

“No one… fucks my pussy like you.” and you tumbled into bliss. Resting your head on his shoulder, forgetting completely about the noises you needed to withhold. 

He gave in, pistoning his hips. Making you cry out. Locking you into a final kiss as he fell apart, fist slamming against the wall to steady himself as he filled you.

Still meeting you with lazy thrusts, he looked at you, resting your foreheads together.

You were breathless as he set you down gently, your legs still shaking.

Your eyes were wide and glazed like a doll’s. 

He adored you this way. Fucked speechless and twice as beautiful.

Tucking a hair away from your kiss-bitten lips, he nipped you sweetly.

“You better shower before going in princess.” he stated.

You looked at him confused.

“Pool rules….” he tapped his whistle smugly.

Giving you one last peck, he poked his head out the curtain before casually strolling off.

A half hour later, after you pulled yourself together and took an extremely cold shower…. you came back out to the pool.

In your new suit you self-consciously waded into the shallows, wondering where he was.

A shrill sound startling you. 

Whipping around you saw him smirking over you, before walking away.

post mugen yoshiwara

I hate that there's barely any fanfics or fans for this game :,((

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 (m)

⌕ eddie munson x reader x billy hargrove ft. steve harrington

❤︎ — content warnings: smut, slight angst, f! reader, cucking (sorta?), threesome, fingering, split roast, face fucking, degradation, very slight praise, pet names (princess, baby, etc), taking pictures during the act, breeding/creampie, facial, jealousy, possessiveness, very little mentions of drugs and alcohol, all three of them are implied to be intoxicated but still conscious enough to give consent.

❤︎ — word count: 2.1k of pure filth

❤︎ — note: ok this has been rotating in my thoughts for weeks now i had to get this off my mind

Messy. That's one way to define it. 

Your breakup with Steve was messy. Everything with Steve is messy, always has been. The way he confessed to you before you guys started dating, the way he fell for Nancy while he was still your boyfriend and then of course, the long awaited moment when he told you that you guys might need a break. 

And right now, you're glad he proposed that. Because Eddie is a good kisser, the breath of liquor on his tongue matches yours. He smelled of trouble and you were drawn to the thrill of it like a moth to a flame. He's all you needed right now— a distraction, something to get your mind off from your fall out with your ex. 

“God, baby. You're really ready for it, huh?” you could hardly hear eddie's voice over the booming party downstairs and you don't think fucking here, right now, in someone else's room while tina's halloween party roared below, but you couldn't care less right now, “just shut up n' kiss me, munson.”

you slurred, your lips chasing his as you pushed him down on the bed, “as you wish, milady.” you giggle at his exaggeration before he crashed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss, letting his hands wander and pull off your clothes one by one. Your hands hastily work on the buckle of his belt, huffing while you buck your hips into his,

“impatient much, princess?”

The sudden intrusion of a new voice had both you and Eddie jumping lightly, staring wide eyed at the door now slung open which Eddie swore he locked behind him after you pushed him inside this room,

“Hargrove.” Eddie greets with a tight lipped smile. To which, the blond grinned, kicking the door shut and started walking towards the bed. 

Now, Billy had his eyes on you for quite some time. Ever since you rejected his offer to give you a ride on his '79 Chevrolet Camaro, he couldn't deny the spark. Besides, what better way to rub it on king Steve's face than by stealing away his princess? 

catching your chin in between his thumb and index finger, he whispered, “should really make sure you lock the door behind you if you don't want anyone to interrupt your alone time together.”

The hint of mockery in his voice was evident but you decided to entertain him, “and what if it was the plan all along?”

Maybe it's the alcohol thrumming in your veins or the adrenaline rush of sneaking away while your ex was right downstairs but you couldn't help the sly smirk that slipped on your lips. 

“two can play that game, princess.” his voice is an octave low now, eyes half lidded as he stared at your lips, thumb tracing the plump of your lower lip before leaning forward and claiming a kiss,

“great, sure, just invite yourself in here, man.” eddie groaned, rolling his eyes at the display. Breaking the kiss, you press your finger on eddie's lips, shushing his complaints, “don’ be selfish now, eddie.” palming his cock through his jeans, you purred, “there's 'nough of me for both of ya',” 

Billy chuckles at your slurred words, hand snaking around to grab your bicep and tugging you forward into his chest, “you heard her, freak.” there's a subtle jealousy evident in eddie's actions when he grabs your waist tight, brown eyes staring into billy's taunting blue ones,

“you gonna fuck her or what?” the blond rasps, pressing kisses down your jawline and nipping lightly at your neck. Eddie scoffs, looking away while you moaned for Billy, “don't you have better things to do?”

“you do realise right that she's not your girl or anything?” Those words, bitter yet true, made Eddie wonder why he was here. Billy is right, you aren't dating him. It's hypocritical of him to get jealous like this. So what if he has been your dealer for what, like at least a few months now? That doesn't imply anything. That's not a relationship.

Even if he calls the times you met in the woods as dates, sneaking out and getting high together. Eddie smiles a bit at the memories before blinking them away upon Billy's words, “if you prefer just watchin' then I can put on a good show for ya', Munson.” 

“We'll see whose name she's moaning soon.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie slips his hand inside your panties after flipping up your skirt, “shit baby, you're already dripping,” his fingers barely teased your folds and you were already whining, hips pushed back into his touch while Billy cradled your face in his palms, the menacing smirk on his lips a sheer contrast to the way he held you gently,

“turns out, the princess is just a cheap lil' whore, hm? Moanin' like a slut even though we've barely touched her yet.” 

Eddie groaned when you clenched around his fingers at Billy's words, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He was getting impatient at the thought of how tight your cunt would feel wrapped around him, “what? She getting tighter due to my words?”

Billy sneers, his hand slid down to wrap his fingers around the column of your throat, “you like being called a slut, princess?” you caught on the little sadistic glint in his eyes even in your intoxicated state and yet you can't deny that the thrill of it all excited you further, “speak up, princess.”

he pressed a light kiss on your lips as you stuttered out a small affirmative. Meanwhile Eddie pulled out his fingers with a wet 'pop' and a muttered curse under his breath. The clang of his belt soon followed before you felt him press the swollen head of his cock against your entrance,

“bet I can just slip right in, mhm?” you tried to look at him over your shoulder but Billy's hand around your neck prevented that, “uh uh, eyes on me, slut.” 

But before you can reply with a snarky comment, Eddie's cock thrusted into your barely prepared cunt, bottoming out with one hard thrust. Your cry made the man in front of you chuckle, his voice shushing you gently while the man behind you gripped your hips hard, nails digging into your clothes, “fuckin' hell baby, you're so— ah, so fucking tight,”

he was already dragging his cock all the way out, teasing you by just leaving the swollen tip in before slamming in with vigour. The force of which had you falling into Billy's chest. Your lips parted in a silent scream when Eddie's hand snaked around your thighs, fingers finding your clit to toy with. Billy took this opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair and push your face down against his crotch,

“take it out.” he cooed, tugging harshly at your strands when you failed to follow through on his order. With the smallest droplets of tear forming at the corners of your eyes from the rough treatment, you hurriedly undid his denim jeans, his hard cock springing out with a spilled grunt from his lips,

“put that mouth to good use, slut.” his fingers dug into your skull as soon as your lips wrapped around the tip, shoving you down on his cock soon after and laughing breathlessly when he heard you choke. A groan left him as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, hips jutting against you sporadically, “fuck,”

the curse drawls out of his lips with a deep grunt, followed by Eddie's voice, “you're tightening up, baby.” he knows that you're clenching around him because of Billy's rough treatment, at the idea of having them both and it pisses him off.

The mere thought of having to share you with Billy fuckin' Hargrove, Hawkins' new king, makes Eddie dig his nails into your skin, leaving tiny crescents blooming on the area as he brings your hips back to meet his sharp thrusts midway.

Each deep thrust of Eddie's hips pushed you against Billy, his cock slipping deeper in your throat and making tears roll down your face. Your lungs burned from the lack of air and you squirmed under the two men's hold on you.

Pulling out his cock from your mouth, Billy fisted it, slapping your cheek with the saliva slickened head, “you look so fuckin' beautiful like this… all fucked out and messy.” his eyes followed how yours rolled back into your head and face flushed with tear stains while eddie continued to fuck into you without acknowledging the other man.

Looking around Billy smirked upon finding what he was hoping for. His hand cradled your chin with a touch softer than you'd expected from him and he lifts your face up. There was a flash of bright light in front of you and then you heard a reeling sound. With wide eyes, it took you a moment to realise that he just snapped a polaroid of you like this, 

“what the fuck are you doin', Hargrove?” Eddie barked, eyes narrowed to which Billy chuckled, shaking off his rebuking glance with an uncaring shrug, “thought you'd be more fun, Eddie. Here, you can have this.” handing the metalhead the polaroid, Billy watched his reaction, holding back a chuckle when Eddie seethed, jaws clenched and jealousy oozing off his mere existence. 

Guiding your mouth back on his cock, Billy smirked, “you can't handle a girl like her, munson.” 

This time, Eddie scoffed, placing the photo down, “yea? Then why's she about to cum on my cock, hm?” his hand gripped the back of your head, shoving you down on Billy's cock roughly. A muffled yelp from you and a curse muttered by Billy with his head thrown back, mouth hanging open had Eddie chuckling now, spitting out the last word with venom laced in his tone, “think I like you better like this, king.” 

“fu—ck,” Billy's hips stuttered, cock throbbing heavy on your tongue while his hefty balls slapped against your chin. Your thighs trembled from eddie's cock hitting right against that spongy spot inside you that had you cumming around him with a scream that got muffled by billy fucking your throat mercilessly. 

“your gonna look s'fuckin' pretty with my cum all over your face, princess.” he gasped before pulling out right as he was about to cum. Jerking off his twitching cock, he spilled his cum on your face, lazily slumping back against the bed now.

Grabbing the camera, he snapped another photo of your face— delicate makeup that took you hours to do, now ruined with tears, drool and cum— courtesy of Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson, “this one's for king Steve,” staring at the polaroid, Billy mused, “Harrington's gonna love this.” 

Eddie bit his lip to bite back his grunts while you spasmed around his cock, pushing him closer to his own high. He tried to pull out but you pushed your hips back into his, making him chuckle a bit, “gonna cum, baby.” you looked back at him with glassy eyes,

“wan' it inside, eddie, please,” he can't deny when you ask so sweetly now can he? Ever since the first time he met you to supply drugs, he always did have a soft spot for you and maybe, just maybe you reciprocated that. He was definitely more than just a distraction.

you figured that you'd been happier with him the last few months you spent with him than you ever were with steve, "you sure?” you hum with a light nod. the moment soon being interrupted by Billy who scoffs at you both, “love birds.” 

Rolling his eyes at Billy's words, Eddie pushed his cock back in, upto the hilt, letting your walls squeeze him tightly as he came, a string of curses on his lips. 

Meanwhile Steve happened to have the worst evening of all times. Hearing Nancy say that they're just pretending to be in love with each other and then seeing Jonathan take her home. He just needed some alone time.

But he just happened to stumble upon the very room you were in. And his throat went dry at the sight, “sorry, I'll just—” he was about to leave when Billy spoke up with a grin,

“Welcome to the after party, Harrington.”