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pboogerswbb · 1 month ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this.

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz.

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?”

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick.

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does.

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me.

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods.

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her.

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch.

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad.

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches.

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere.

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up.

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately.

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name.

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

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#so it goes #lilas writing #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x fem oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #wnba x oc #paige bueckers fanfic

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illvmii · 1 year ago

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Home For The Weekend.

DBF!Miguel x FEM!Reader, NSFW!! READ WITH CAUTION!!

TAGS: DBF!Miguel, Nsfw, a little fluff ig, pining Miguel, I gave you good parents because you deserve it, oral (fem receiving), praise, p in v, unprotected (use protection gang), a little exhibisionism (people are in the house), Miguel is pretty soft in this one, LMK if I forgot anything

A/N: Because I had to swap accounts and all that, I decided to write smut as a sorry (cause I know that’s what most Miguel fans want LMFAO) so here you go!! It’s Dad’s best friend cause GODDD I love DBF Miguel lemme tell ya. Also not proof read (I’m really fucking tired rn I’ll proof read tmr probably)

You’ve been away from home for a good while at this point. Your college really wasn’t all that far away, but you’ve been so freaking busy it’s unbelievable. You called your parents at least three times a week, even at that point you were failing to do so. You were completely overwhelmed and it was awful.

But finally, finally you had a weekend where you were free. You didn’t have anything to do, so you decided to drive home and spend the weekend there. You knew your parents really missed you, so it was the best choice for all of you (plus you’d been killing to taste some of your moms cooking once again).

You had called your father to let him and your mom know you were coming, but were told a very interesting surprise. It was for sure a welcome one, though. Your father’s best bud, Miguel O’Hara, was staying with your parents for a week. Apparently the man’s house got termites which fucking blew chunks for him. But for you… well, aren’t you just lucky?

That man is HOT! We all know it, he’s absolutely stunning. So when you figured you’d be in the same house as him for a whole weekend, your entire stay seemed to get much more interesting.

Of course it was a ‘Look don’t touch’ scenario, you couldn’t even imagine the hell that would let loose if you made a hit on your dad’s best friend. You knew your father and Miguel were super close, they have been since you were a little girl. Miguel and your pops met when you were in third grade, because you were on your schools little soccer team. Miguel was the coach, since his own daughter Gabriella was on it.

You and Gabi actually became pretty good friends, still are to this day. She’s fun to be around and you text her whenever you have the chance. Of course she doesn’t know about the absolutely disgusting thoughts you have about her father on the lonelier nights. You think nobody but you really needs to know those. God forbid if your dad found out.

You haven’t seen Miguel in… what was it? Nearly three years at this point. He didn’t come around the house much after you turned 19 for some reason. Your dad and him always hung out at bars and such. So you haven’t seen him in a long time. The barbecues Miguel always had once a month were strangely on days you had told your dad you weren’t available, either. It’s very strange. You never have had the best of luck with men, so you just assume god is playing a cruel trick on you.

You eventually pulled into your childhood home driveway, the second you entered your mom pulls you to the side and presses kisses all over your face.

“Oh my gosh! It feels I haven’t seen my baby girl in ages! How have you been, honey?!”

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, you smile, “Been good. Busy, as I’ve said on our calls. But finally got some free time!”

Your mother grinned and pulled you into a hug, “I’m so glad your home, sweetheart. The house just isn’t the same without you here.”

“Dad already getting on your nerves, huh?” You snicker, hugging her back tightly.

Your mom chuckles and shakes her head, “He’s still the same ol’ grump. You should have heard him and Miguel when the soccer game was on… my goodness I was worried we were going to get a noise complaint.”

“Are they really that bad? Geez. I know Dad is bad, can’t imagine two of them.”

Your mother chuckles, “Your father is in the living room. Go say hi, hes been waiting for you all day.”

You give her a nod and walk off to the living room to greet your dad. He’s on the couch, so you plop down next to him. “Hey, Dad. How’s it hanging?”

He turns to look at you and bumps your shoulder with his, “There you are, squirt. Where you been for so long, huh? Outgrown us regular people now you’re a big shot at college?”

You smirk at his tease, “Don’t worry. I won’t forget about you. Least not yet.”

He flicks your forehead, chuckling to himself.

“Miguel is out in the pool. You should go say hi.”

Your face immediately heats up. He’s in the god damn pool?! With probably little shorts? Oh god…

You nod and stand from the couch and make your way to the pool. You slide the glass door to the patio open and dear god.

You see Miguel, hes swimming laps in the big pool. As long as you’ve known him, he’s worked out a bunch. No wonder he’s so fucking buff.

Stepping down into the patio area, you send him a wave, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara?”

He pauses his swimming and looks up at you. He flashes a smile, “My god, that you, pequeña?”

Miguel shakes his head to get the excess water out, swimming too the stairs of the pool to get out. You see now that yes, he is in little swim trunks.

He grabs his towel to wipe his extremely chiseled chest down. He smiles at you as he does, “How have you been, chica? I haven’t seen you for a while. Your dad sends me photos of you sometimes, but they really didn’t show off how much you’ve grown.”

You blush as he runs his eyes over you to really take in your growth. “I’ve been okay. College is keeping me busy. How about you? I’ve heard your house has termites.”

Miguel let’s out a loud groan, “Mhm. I could hear them in the walls at night, it was hell. At least they’re getting taken care of now, ‘Eh?”

“Yeah. I could imagine that would be hell,” You add on, not helping the conversation at all. You really couldn’t focus on conversing well. The man who has plagued your mind since you hit puberty is standing right in front of you, wet and in tiny shorts.

Miguel fully dries himself off, “I’ll go in and change, alright? Then we can talk some more.”

He walks off and you follow behind. You sit next to your dad in the living room and patiently (not at all patiently) wait for ‘Mr. O’Hara’.

Miguel walks into the living room wearing some loose shorts and a white t-shirt. He sits on a free chair and looks to your dad, “Man, look how big your girl is now! Can’t even believe it. Can’t believe how big my Gabi is, either.”

Your dad chuckles and groans, “I know, right? Time really flies when you get old.”

Miguel shoots you a smile, “I’m not that old, am I, cariño?”

You shake your head quickly, “Of course not.”

Your father chuckles, “You don’t gotta lie to Miguel, honey! Let him have it.”

Miguel leans forward to smack your father’s shoulder, “Ay! You aren’t young yourself.”

Your father and Miguel banter back and forth for a bit, before the soccer game starts out. They shut up immediately to watch, though once the plays start happening they shout at the TV like mad men. You chuckle whenever they do. It brought back memories of you and Gabriella having a play date and hearing them go nuts over the match in the other room.

After the match, it was dinner time, and holy fuck did it smell good. Your mother knew how to cook man, let me tell you.

You were sat in between your mom and Miguel. Your dad and the hunk were talking about the game, while your mother asked you questions about how college was going. You told her all about it, from the gossip to how the vending machine in the lobby stopped working again, which pissed you off to no end.

While you were talking and ranting about “those damn machines”, you felt a thigh press against yours. You glance down, seeing it was Miguel’s. Strange, because you didn’t remember his chair being this close. You shrug it off and keep talking to your mom.

After dinner you were stuffed, so you head up to your bedroom for the night. You were currently sitting on your old bed, snuggled up all nice and cozy while watching some YouTube. That was until the door creaked open. You figured your mom had done your laundry like the lovely lady she is, but indeed it was Miguel.

He stepped into the room with a soft smile, closing the door behind him, “Hey, pequeña.”

You sit up immediately at the sight of him, plucking your earbuds from your ears, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara. What do you need?”

Miguel sits himself on the edge of the bed, “You can just call me Miguel, sweetheart. Mr. O’Hara makes me feel ancient.”

“Alright, Miguel.” You smile, which makes him chuckle. He looks up at you and speaks;

“We haven’t had much time to speak one on one. I just wanted to catch up with you, hadn’t seen you in a while.”

You tilt your head endearingly, “Yeah, it has been a while. College has kept me from coming home, plus you and dad don’t hang out around the house as much as you used to.”

Miguel’s face actually pinks a little at the statement, to your bewilderment. He scratches his head, “Yeah. Just gettin’ out on the town as you kids say makes us feel young, I guess.”

Cuddling your blankets a bit closer to you, you grin at him, “You really aren’t that old. You had Gabriella decently young, right?”

“I guess so,” He shrugs, “It feels like forever ago, yet also yesterday. Can’t believe my flor pequeña is in college now.”

You nod, “Oh yeah, I can’t believe we’re in college either. Gabriella texts me all about her college days. She rants about her boyfriend constantly, she seems to really like him.”

Miguel groans, “Don’t even get me started on that boy. He is not worth my daughter, not even a little.”

You giggle at his protective nature. You’re positive that no matter who Gabriella dates, Miguel will never deem them as good enough for his daughter.

Miguel looks into your eyes, “So, you got a boyfriend, niña?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t really met the right person,” Which was a total lie, by the way. You’ve gone on dates and met super nice guys, but in your head you constantly compared them to your first crush ever, Miguel. They never shaped up, so it never went anywhere.

His eyes widen, “Really? You’re so beautiful now, I’d figure you’d have tons of boys chasing you.”

The statement makes you blush fiercely, “Ah, no.”

Miguel lets out a thoughtful sigh, “You really have grown into a lovely young woman, you know.”

You blush even harder, “Thank you, Mr. O’Hara.”

He places a hand on yours with a chuckle, “I told you, it’s Miguel.”

“Right. Sorry. Sorry,” You take some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Miguel sees this and smiles.

“Why so flustered, cariño? Is it because I called you beautiful?”

You end up covering your face to hide said blush from him. Geez, your heart could not take this right now. You were dressed in some baggy Spider-Man pajamas, yet he is calling you beautiful?

“I-I’m not…”

You can’t believe you’re stuttering. The things this man does to you is insane.

Miguel reached a hand forward to take your hands away from your face. He doesn’t remove it, though. He rests it on your cheek.

“Do you want to know why I stopped coming around your house?”

You nod, staring into his chocolate brown eyes.

“It’s because of your 19th birthday. Do you remember it?”

You think back to those years ago. It was a pretty fun party. You got a bunch of friends and family over and swam in your pool. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but just a fun time.

“Yeah. What about it? Did I do something?”

He chuckles and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, “Nah. It’s just me. You… that day, do you remember what your swimsuit looked like?”

You think back again and blush. Not one of your smartest moments, buying a white swimsuit. It looked cute online, the thought of that it was supposed to go in water and get wet not really cementing itself in your head.

“Yeah…”

He nods and chuckles, “I saw you step out of the pool, and rushed over with a towel to cover you up. Remember? Sure, it was because I didn’t want you to expose yourself like that. However, I had a selfish reason.”

You look up and tilt your head a little.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see that part of you.”

“Huh?” Your brows furrow.

He smirks, “I was confused by the thought, too. I left right after the party and went to my house. I figured I’d stop having such strange thoughts after a day… but amor, I haven’t stopped thinking about you once.”

Your eyes widen, “Wh- Huh?”

“You’re so beautiful, I don’t think you understand. You grew into this woman who I admire, not just for your looks. You’re wonderful, absolutely wonderful. You’re kind, you’re thoughtful, you’re funny, you’re perfect. I can’t get you out of my damn head.”

You can’t manage to speak at this point. You stare up at the man in shock as he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“Please, let me kiss you, niña,” He basically begs, his eyes look full of desperation, “I’ve wanted to do it for years.”

You manage a tiny nod, so he rushes forward to kiss your lips. He holds you very close against him and kisses you hard. He lets out a groan at the contact. His tongue prods at your lips after a while and who are you to refuse such a man? You let him in, letting out a little groan of your own when he explores you.

After what felt like too short, you have to pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t stop being on you, though. When you pant, he moves to kiss your jaw and neck.

You let out a little groan, “M-Miguel…”

“No good?” He speaks between kisses, “I’ve wanted to touch you for years, you don’t understand…”

You let out a little whimper, a god damn whimper.

“Please, let me touch you. Fuck, please,” He begs again. You manage a small nod once again. He dives back in to keep kissing your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hands move downwards towards your shirt. He tugs it over your head and moans. His hands immediately reach down to squeeze your tits, and you have to cover your mouth to keep your moans in.

He mumbles out a soft “Fuck…” when he uses his thumbs to glide over your nipples. After a few seconds, he leans down to press kisses all over your soft breasts. He still uses his hands to softly prod at them.

You let out a low whine and he looks up at you, “Be quiet, my girl. Can’t have anyone hearing you.”

You nod and keep covering your mouth as he leans down to keep pressing soft kisses to your chest. After a few moments, he tugs at your bottoms and looks up at you. You nod embarrassingly, and he takes them and your underpants off in one fell swoop.

You hear him audibly choke a breath, which makes you blush more. He manhandles you so your thighs rest on his shoulders, and just goes to town.

You let out a loud yelp when his tongue presses against your clit, so he reaches down and puts his fingers in your mouth to silence you. He keeps his mouth going, sucking on the bud to bring you pleasure.

Miguel pulls back with a long breath, “Tastes so good…”

You whimper against his fingers when he leans down to insert his tongue in you. You cry out as he holds nothing back, forcefully having his way with you.

His one hand that isn’t in your mouth is softly caressing your thigh, which is driving you crazy in its own right. It feels like everywhere he touches you is pure heaven.

Though that one hand leaves after a moment, instead he moves to insert a finger in you. You clamp down on his fingers, which makes him chuckle.

“Feel that good?”

Against his hand, you mumble, “Fingers so thick…”

He smirks and curls his index finger, making your hips buck up and you let out another whine. He can softly hear you beg for more.

He complies, of course. Hes waited for this for years, no way he won’t give his girl everything she wants.

He inserts another finger, moving them around a little until he eventually finds your most sensitive spot. He presses the pad of his fingers up against it suddenly, making you jerk and squirm around.

His mouth dives back down to suck on your clit, which drives you absolutely insane. His fingers in both your mouth and inside you, as well as his skilled mouth was far too much for one woman to handle.

Miguel looks over at one of the thighs placed on his shoulder, seeing it shiver and shake. He breaks away briefly, “Are you close already, amor? You’re so sensitive for me. Have you been wanting my touch too?”

You nod frantically when he lowers his head to your clit again. You cry out, “Uh-Huh! Y-You were my first crush!” Your words were mumbled against his fingers, but he understood them just fine.

He sucks on your clit hard and curls his fingers at the same time, which causes you to let out a moan and your thighs shake more. He breaks away,

“Look at me when you come. Look into my eyes as I make you come. You understand?”

You nod and keep eye contact with him as he inserts a third finger, pressing over and over to your g-spot. He uses his tongue to swirl around your inflated bud at the same time.

His gaze, his mouth, his fingers, it was all far too much. After one harsh suck, you came with a muffled shout.

Miguel drank it all up immediately, seemingly absolutely satisfied to be covered in your juices.

He lets you catch your breath and removes his fingers from your mouth. He also lowers your hips back to the bed, being delicate as he does so he doesn’t hurt you. You were panting very harshly, still coming down from your high.

Everything was a bit fuzzy at the moment. Though you refocused a few seconds later- holy shit.

His shorts have been discarded, along with his shirt. He was naked just as you were, and god damn was he big.

He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, “You think you can go again? Can you take me, pretty girl?”

You try and speak only to realize that you, in fact, can’t. You settle for a thumbs up, which just makes him laugh softly.

He gives you a few more seconds before aligning himself up with your pretty pussy, pushing himself in agonizingly slow.

You let out another moan, so he quickly puts his fingers in your mouth again to keep you quiet. He really, really did not need your parents who were down in the living room to hear this.

He kept pushing himself in, holding his own groans back. He’d used his hand and imagined how you’d feel in the past, but it was nothing like this. This was perfect.

Once he was in as far as he could go, he stopped and let you get comfortable. Of course it was a battle for him, he was fighting his primal instincts to just take your hard and fast.

You keep letting out the most adorable little whimpers, which even though he’s currently fucking you, make Miguel’s heart melt.

You hum against his fingers, “Ready…”

He nods and begins to move very slowly. He focuses on your face as he watches it contort and squeeze with his movements. You were so pretty when you were experiencing such pleasure, he thought.

He whispers, “Good job, pequeña. Such a good girl for me.”

The praise makes you bite down on his fingers a little. Your hands travel upwards to scratch on his back, too. It was taking all your willpower to not be loud.

He moves a little faster, leaning down to kiss you as he does. He keeps mumbling “My pretty girl” And “So perfect, just for me” as he increases his speed.

He knows he isn’t going to last long. He’s been dreaming about you for years at this point.

He begins to sweat as his hips snap against yours. His free hand moves down to rub on your already abused clit. You grunt on his fingers, pursing your lips against them.

“You gonna come for me again, amor? Come on my cock. Can you do that for me?” He speaks very softly. Both to keep it down, but to also be intimate with you.

You breathe heavily as you feel him pound into you. You can feel tears brimming at your eyes from the sensation.

He licks his thumb and places it back down on your clit, rubbing circles over and over again. At the same time, his hips were slamming against yours. Soon enough, you reached a second orgasm. He let out a moan that was nearly too loud when you did. The sensation was his end, because a few thrusts later he pulled out and came on your stomach.

You and him sat there, panting like you’d just ran a damn marathon. Though after a few minutes, Miguel stands and walks over to your nightstand to get the wipes there. He begins to wipe you of his cum and your sweat, cleaning you off so you can sleep comfortably.

You were so fucking exhausted it was insane. You could barely register as he carefully slid your pajamas back onto you, then changed back into his own clothes.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “If I could sleep in here, I would.”

“Mhm…” You mumble, a little upset he wouldn’t be cuddling you to sleep. But you obviously understood his reasoning.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips,

“Let’s do this again sometime, pequeña.”

Hope you enjoyed you rabid Miguel fans!! Feedback is always welcome. I used spanishdict so please correct any mistakes you see. Reqs open too!!

This was my first time posting anything NSFW on any site ever so I’m sorry if it’s bad LOL

Don’t repost or claim as or own and all that stuff please!! ❤️❤️

#reqs open #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #dbf!miguel #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel x y/n

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lovelykil · 9 days ago

Text

hate─

killua ᯓ

oneshot

note; proof read tmr, shoutout to my wife who gave me this idea

who would've known the biggest jerk in your life was at the party of the year... supposedly. He hates crowds, people even more. What the hell was he doing taking on a guy in a drinking competition who looked like he was way too old to be at a high school party?

you push yourself through the crowd of sweaty, rambunctious teenagers to get to other side of the room where he is. Honestly, you could care less about the silverette but the fact that he was even here made you ridiculously curious. You could not take your eyes off of him when you spotted him, 20 minutes ago.

creep much? Maybe.

"killua, what the hell are you doing here?" You set your red cup down on the table with a smack, making the contents inside slip out of the cup. The boy finishes gulping down his beverage, probably alcohol, and slams his cup down.

"Leorio, you quitting already? Tch." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes focused on the guy from the other side of the table. Leorio, with flushed cheeks and a hot-tempered attitude already shouts in frustration.

"how DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO CONSUME THOSE WHOLE BOTTLES OF ALCOHOL, WE USED CUPS!?" Killua smirks and stuffs his hands into his pockets, "years of torture." The old man-looking teenager flares his hands in the air in a fit of rage and storms off, bumping into people as he stumbles away.

you turn your attention towards Killua after the whole ordeal and watch him rock side to side slightly. Oh great. He was tipsy.

his eyes motion toward you in a slow manner, "what the hell are you doing here?" He asks, his tone gruff and rude yet puzzled at the same time. You cross your hands over your chest, slightly shifting your weight onto your hip, "I could say the same thing." You respond, matching his tone.

His eyes never leave your cold while your eyes are glued to his piercing intimating eyes.

his gaze locks onto you, cold and unrelenting, while yours remains trapped in the depths of his piercing, intimidating stare. And there it was—the raw, electric tension that swallowed the whole room, making everyone else fade into existence. The feeling was all too familiar, but for some reason, you didn't fret from it this time.

the relationship between the both of you was—complicated. The reasons why you both hated each other were unclear and never spoken about. One simple day he looked at you in a weird, irritating way and you took that as a clear sign he found you distasteful and absurd.

a bit dramatic but who isn't?

"never took you much for a party asshole." You finally speak. The sounds of people and music suddenly fade back into reality, causing the silverette to break eye contact. He turns and leans to grab a bottle of alcohol you barely cared to pay attention to the name and flicks off the lid, "I hate parties." The bottle inches towards his lips.

you lean off your hip, "why the hell are you he—"

"hey, we should have a drinking contest yeah? I bet I can beat your annoying ass." Before he could take a gulp, he set the bottle down to propose his grand idea. The idea makes your brow twitch upward, completely unamused of the proposal. But something complied you to take him on, maybe it was your competitiveness and the lack of affection you felt for him.. simply just wanting to see him lose and laugh in his stupid pretty face.

wait—pretty?

"what? You don't think you can beat me? Well of course you can't." Killua scoffs, taking your unresponsive state as an answer. You snap out of your thoughts grab the bottle that was near him and take a swig of it, glaring the cocky asshole right in the eye. His eyes widen but soon return to their state, narrow and intimidating as he reaches for a bottle of another alcoholic substance.

"first to finish a bottle wins then." He says before twisting off the lid and discarding it elsewhere. You squeeze your eyes and take deep, determined gulps of the vile beverage. Its acrid taste clings to your tongue, while a searing burn trails down your throat. The sensation is nearly unbearable... but you remain confident. This wasn't exactly your first rodeo... but that's a story for another day.

as a few more seconds pass by, groups of curious and loud people begin to surround the both of you, completely engrossed by the fact a girl is competing with a boy in a drinking competition. Soon there was a full circle and you could hear the loud chanting making your heart skip a beat.

the whole ordeal felt like forever but only lasted 65 seconds, you slam the bottle down on the table and shout in victory. The crowd, loud and proud cheers you on as Killua just barely finishes a second after you. You bathe in your glory, overwhelmed with glee that the nasty liquid is no longer murdering your taste buds and burning your esophagus.

you turn and face your enemy with a wide grin, "what were you saying about me not beating you?" He rolls his eyes, slightly stumbling. "shut up." He mutters, you snicker.

. . .

about an hour later somehow you were dragged into a small bathroom, the drunk frustration blabbering nonsense rolling off your tongue like nothing. The noise from outside was quickly muffled as the door closed shut behind you. You lean against the sink, depending on it for stability as you look at Killua.

"what the hell are we doing here, huh?" You watch him lean against the wall and look at you, he ignores your question. This makes you pissed.

"hey! I know you're not that drunk, you have crazy tolerance. Why did you bring me here?!" You shout, now growing frustrated. You were drunk but.. not wasted. He remains silent just fueling your anger more. You're about to shout once more til he walks toward you, 2 steps and he's right infront of you.

you pause, eyes widening as you look up at him. His drunken dazed eyes are the first thing you notice, then his soft lips... then his slightly exposed neck. That's when you feel it, your cheeks warming.

"I cant feel my neck, can you help.." He points to his button up dress shirt, his voice low and calm. You blink, then nod slowly. With careful hands, you reach out and unbutton the first two buttons to release him of his troubles. You can feel his warm body heat radiating off him like if he were some heater.

"Is that better?" You mumble. Killua lets out a hum of relief and looks at you. You stare back at him, both of you flushed in the face and dazed in the minimal-size bathroom. The tension was more apparent than ever before now, the electrifying spark between you was getting harder to ignore.

for unknown reasons you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the boy closer. He gets the idea and his hands find their way onto your hips, gripping the plush of your skin softly. No words exchanged, the look of pure desire and affection spoke volumes.

you inch toward his face with a drunk smile and mumble something you never would've thought of saying.

"I've always loved your eyes, you know." Your unusual compliment rings in his ears, just causing the boy to blush. He looks away, but his hand caresses your sides tenderly.

"thought you hated me?" He looks back at you. You can't help but grin at his puzzled words. You bring him closer suddenly, your lips merely just inches away from contact with his. Your eyes slowly flicker from his lips to his gaze, the lingering intensity thickening in the air between you... each passing second adding to the unspoken tension.

"I do, so kiss me." You breathe. The drunken teen spent no time propping you on the sink and crashing his lips into yours like a hungry animal, devouring its meal. It was as if something inside him flickered like a light switch, all he wanted was you even though he hated you and you hated him.

something about the hatred you had for each other sparked something incredible and unpredictable, all it took was some alcohol.

the sounds of moans and groans erupting from the both of you drowned out the noises coming from the outside,

it was just you and him.

#「 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐊𝐈𝐋 ᯓ 𖦹 」#hunter x hunter #killua x reader #killua #hxh x reader #killua zoldyck #:33

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miyamoratsumuu · 7 months ago

Note

ok round TEW!!! i am now commencing self destruct by sending in cardigan by taylor swift, with tdrk sho the pookie wookie dookie loml beloved. (behind the screen i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure, clawing at the walls, sliding down the door and jumping out the window while wailing sobbing and crying)(break time before requesting b4 prolly 1 more tmr!! sorey if its a lot 😞😞 dont write too much ok make sure u eat drink sleep nd everything)

CARDIGAN

cardigan by Taylor Swift, acapella ver., ft. Shoto Todoroki

⋆ you knew him. and after every moment you shared, you realize you don't know him anymore.

⋆ todoroki shoto x reader ⋆ written in 2nd pov, wc: 1.6k ⋆ this request is from the 400 followers event!! mha masterlist ⋆ other notes: I finished writing this only to realize there's no dialogue at all I'm so sorry 😭 and and!! unlike my other shoto work, y/n gets a happy ending<3 (atleast i think it's a happy ending)

⋆ cw: implied cheating

the warmth that enveloped you when you put on your newly ironed uniform didn’t feel so bad on your walk toward UA high. cellphone in hand, the hustle and bustle of what you assumed was your assigned class for this year, welcomed you as soon as you stepped through the classroom door. first days always become such a blur as the school year passed by. yours wasn’t going to be any different, until you locked eyes with the boy that kept to himself at the back of the room.

everyone else was introducing themselves to one another, in hopes of making themselves known even before formal introductions of the class began. except for two. the one up front of the class seemed off limits right from first glance. now that you look back at the memory, the second guy that was seated at the back looked off limits too. if he wasn’t, he would’ve been mingling with your other classmates already. thinking of it now, maybe you shouldn’t have approached todoroki shoto. but you did. the excitement of the new highschool life filled your senses, and your first year self was blinded by it.

you assumed your first interaction with the man would’ve been one of those cute meet cutes in any rom-com. the upbeat girl introduces herself to the stoic straight faced guy, they become acquaintances, he slowly lets down his guard for her, and they fall in love! the moment you finished telling him your name though, you began to think otherwise. he was looking at you, sure. but it didn’t seem like he was going to let loose anytime soon. your idea of a cute rom-com moment slowly faded away. just slowly though, good thing you had patience.

you knew who shoto was. you knew how he refused to use the other half of his quirk in refusal to represent his father. you knew how he didn’t come to ua to “make friends”. you knew what he aimed to be as a hero in training, but it’s been months since you made yourself acquainted with that version of him. and huge changes could happen in the span of a few months. the joy of your time together at ua overcame shoto without him realizing it. you could thank midoriya for being a huge part of that.

you didn’t know when it started, but the glances shoto sent your way that lingered more than they should, the subtle touches whenever you were in the common room together, and the gentle smiles he wore only for you to see became more and more evident. you didn’t mind, why would you? highschool wouldn’t be the most fulfilling experience without the rush of a new love. and the suggestion of shoto reciprocating that feeling was something you wouldn’t trade for the world. it’s dangerous to assume, but it wouldn’t be completely unlawful.

your assumptions were only proven true when after pouring your heart out to shoto, he didn’t make a move to turn you down. instead, you felt a hand on yours as it was carefully brought up to meet his lips. the kiss he placed on each of your knuckles was gentle, and he cradled your hand as if it was glass. and as if he was scared to break you. that would be his worst nightmare, to be the one that broke you. it was an unspoken promise, but he swore to be the one to love you as best he could, to leave a mark on you emotionally, proof of his undying care for you.

“to be seen and understood is to be loved” was what your relationship with shoto felt like. with a handful, if not all your classmates being so powerful, smart, and charismatic, it didn’t take a genius to see that the ones that didn’t aim to be on top would be pushed aside. you were one of the latter. though the longer you were acquainted with shoto, the quicker the shadows that covered you faded away. to you, it felt like a miracle. a blessing, to be seen by the son of the most powerful in japan. but to shoto, it felt like the easiest thing he’s ever done in his life. to him, loving you felt like losing a piece of clothing only to find it and treasure it more than he ever did. it was like he found his favorite cardigan that’s been missing for months right under his bed.

it would be a lie if you said shoto wasn’t the best love you’ve ever had and could ever have. most would grow sceptical of you, seeing as you were only in your second year of highschool and you were already proclaiming things about being with the one love of your life. you were too young to be that in love, as they would say. your relationship wasn’t completely out there, but those who would ask about what the two of you were, would get an honest answer. you were proud of telling them that shoto todoroki was your lover, and you were his. he claimed to feel the same, and you knew he was genuine.

and you were right. you only knew, but you sure as hell didn’t know who shoto was now. the sound of laughter and excitement resounded around the common room of class 3-A’s dorms in anticipation of welcoming the new year. the same year that would be your last with the group of people you grew with as a person, and the people you grew to love more than anything. well, maybe not anything. or anyone. you turned down mina’s offer to join them outside to watch the fireworks the school would set off, instead choosing to search for the one person you haven’t seen yet all night. quickly understanding, the pink haired girl gave you a “goodluck!” before turning around and catching up to kirishima.

not being able to spot shoto in the whole first floor only meant he was in his own dorm. the elevator trip seemed to take ages as you made your way to the fifth floor. as soon as the doors opened, you immediately stepped outside and made a beeline to your boyfriend’s dorm. you raised a fist to knock on the door when you noticed it was already opened. worry and curiosity both overcame you at the same time. it wasn’t like him to leave his door unlocked and even slightly opened like this, after all. you gently pushed it open just enough to poke your head inside. and like they all say, curiosity killed the cat.

the room was dark, except for the moonlight that shined through the open balcony doors. the curtains were cast aside, giving you just the perfect view of the two figures that stood on the balcony. you were so focused on not seeing shoto in the common room, that you didn’t realize yaoyorozu was nowhere to be found too. nevermind that, you found her now. both of them, actually. yaoyorozu had her back leaning against the balcony’s railings, her eyes downcasted. shoto was the complete opposite. he was standing right beside her, and if you didn’t know any better, it looked like his eyes were glued onto her.

‘it’s dangerous to assume, but it wouldn’t be completely unlawful.’ before you could even make assumptions, any thought that wanted to deny that whatever was happening between them wasn’t what you think it could be was cast away. you could feel your chest being held in a vice grip when shoto placed a gentle hand under her chin and had her meet his eyes. not realizing it, you held your breath when shoto slowly inched his face closer to yaoyorozu’s, all the while she didn’t show a sign of resisting what she knew was about to happen. the final blow struck when their lips finally met right when the fireworks were set off in the night sky.

what could’ve gone wrong? just a few months ago, you couldn't be more thankful for the clouds that covered the moon’s light, simultaneously hiding the way you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man in front of you. you were seated beside shoto on the bed in his dorm, the quiet atmosphere of the night surrounding the two of you. his mindless doodling on your scarred arm using his finger didn’t seem so mindless when you could feel that what he was drawing were stars. stars that highlighted your hard work, the years of training you went through together, and the lives you saved, leading you to earn those scars.

as shoto continued to draw stars around your scars, you promised to kiss his in turn. the only difference now was that the feeling of gentle kisses lingered on his scars, while yours held stars that felt like they were etched on with a knife. kisses healed shoto's scars while yours were left to bleed for as long as they did. as much as either of you tried to change your ending, only one of you could receive the happily ever after.

now, he was kneeling in front of you, the only source of light that proved it was shoto in front of you, was your front porch light. he looked exhausted, and the look he gave you was a silent plea for you to let him in like you always did before. you always claimed that letting him in was the best decision you have ever made. nevermind that. your best decision was to let the only pro hero that stood above him in the charts, your husband, shut the door right in shoto’s face. but not before making sure that he saw the way katsuki held your hand, the same way he used to hold yours. only this time, the promise of not being the one to hurt you was held strong and never to be broken. the boy seated in front of the class that looked “off limits” wasn't so bad after all.

a/n: I feel like pacing is literally non-existent in this and that the storyline is so messy but ANYWAY we don't mind that :D ALSO IK YOU HAD A KITA REQUEST BEFORE THIS SAKU I'LL GET TO IT SOON PROMISE!! I'm ashamed of myself bc I literally sort of maybe forgot how kita's character was like exactly so I wanna rewatch season 4 before I do the suna, kita, and atsumu requests 🙏🏻🙏🏻 TYSM FOR REQUESTING MY POOKIE I HOPE THIS IS ALRIGHT!!

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peppershark · 8 months ago

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Nicholas Galitzine as Tom Riddle

I will die on the #thicklipsTomRiddle hill, and it’s why I think Nick G is an ideal choice to play Tom Riddle.

Here is why:

A lot of TMR art and fandom face claims have Tom looking nearly like a villain already with over-the-top sharpness to his features and a shadowy, shifty look. I love it, honestly. So hot.

But there’s also a solid argument to be made that Head Boy Tom Riddle would have to have the golden retriever innocence of someone like Nicholas Galitzine. Allow me to explain.

Based on the description in The Chamber of Secrets of the Ministry of Magic’s inquiry into Moaning Myrtle’s death, Tom wasn’t even noticed as a suspicious character (except by Dumbledore) because he was held in such high esteem by his teachers and classmates. To have this level of automatic deniability, Tom needed a top-ranking academic record, an irreproachable reputation, plus—and this is my argument—an innocent face.

I find David Kibbe’s 1987 body categorization scheme problematic in general, but for the sake of this conversation, describing “sharpness” (yang) in features, and “softness” (yin) can help us explain how some faces might have a certain level of ‘innocence privilege’.

Kibbe associates certain “soft” features like bigger lips, bigger cheeks (regardless of weight) and other more “romantic” body dimensions with “yin” energy, the “light”, gentle and feminine side, or white on the Chinese yinyang symbol. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Kibbe associates sharp, prominent-boned features with “yang” energy, the “dramatic”, intense, masculine side.

According to Kibbe, everyone has a combination of these features. I know, it’s very reductive, and an overly-simplistic reduction of the Chinese yinyang model. I bring this up, though, because Kibbe’s presuppositions likely overlap with how Hollywood has conditioned us to interpret these facial archetypes; for example, we see lots of representations of young TMR with very angular cheekbones, gaunt cheeks and dramatic features. He’s often interpreted as a “dramatic” Kibbe type, the side with the highest concentration of “yang”.

Considering Tom’s situation, however, it makes more sense to cast him as a young man as someone with a lot more “yin” in his features. Snakeface Voldemort is his villain era and that’s pure yang: dramatic, angular, sharp, and snakey.

So as a younger man, I imagine he would have to employ more “innocent” features. When you consider that Tom was viewed as more innocent than Hagrid—who is the *actual* golden retriever of the Harry Potter series—you have to assume that Tom not only seemed less shady in a circumstantial evidence stance, but he actually must have outperformed Hagrid in some of his genial, “yin” features.

This is why I love Nick Galitzine’s look for Tom. My eye types Nick as a “soft dramatic” Kibbe Type which underneath is a dramatic body frame of very sharp angles, but covered in softer contours of body shape and more “yin” features like big eyes and big lips. It’s a metaphor for Tom’s dark, ambitious energy covered in a winsome, innocent-looking softness.

Nick serves a lot of shady, mysterious energy in his expressions, but the lovely fullness in his lips, big eyes and slightly-soft cheeks counters his darkness.

Nick looks like a prince, like his role in RW&RB (2022) or the high school quarterback like his role in Bottoms (2023) or the gorgeous Jacobean fuckboy for King James in George and Mary (2024). All archetypes I think TMR employs to get ahead in a wizarding world where he’s the half-blood Heir of Slytherin who grew up in an orphanage but clawed his way to the top. Nick G’s look in general is a great example of how I imagine TMR would combine features, displaying the dynamic of his character.

Do you think Nick G makes a convincing Tom Riddle?

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle era #tomione #tomarry #tom riddle fanfiction #nicholas galitzine #nick galitzine #hp edit

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bbunnieee · 8 months ago

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Bif Taylor Hc’s (BULLY)

(js to say this rq, i had decided to write a couple of hcs for Bully characters starting with bif because the fandom is DEAD butt i kinda have no experience in writing n stuff, so i’ll learn as i go :). )

“Not cool man, not cool.” - BT

Regular

- starting off, i do see him having brothers, not sure why i just thought of it and it seem like it fits. him being the like the second youngest or something, and having older brothers that tease him back to back (because it’s what brothers do) and younger ones that just get on his nerves fits him to me somehow. (plus goes along with another hc i have)

- He’s gotten teased/bullied since like 7th grade. and that same school year is when he’s actually gotten into boxing and started bulking up because of his more scrawny figure. and when he was confident enough, he actually stood up to his bully’s and began talking back to his brothers when they’d tease him and been left alone ever since. (besides by his brothers)

- he’s lowk condescending. like he only is really that way if he doesn’t know you. but once he does get to know you and is more comfortable being around you, he drops the attitude and acts how he really is,

- nerd.?? I only say this because i imagine him liking comics, books, video games, and star wars. now the comics he likes are just DC with his favorite character being batman,(he’s literally batman in his mind/j) but he’d read some marvel but only for spider man, deadpool and maybe hulk. and he’d like games like gta, resident evil, silent hill and just popular games with storylines. as also i imagine him liking star wars for a longg time, so he’d probably watch it for a nostalgia type feel.

- sneakerhead. At home he has hundreds of all types of shoes waiting to be worn in his large closet (i just had thought of him being a sneakerhead. i mean like he’s rich isn’t he? plus the dialogue in the game he says “cool kicks!” complementing jimmy on his shoes so just imagineeee)

- dimples.!!

- i’m not saying he’s obsessed with school drama/gossip but he might as well be. once he hears something , definitely expect derby and pinky to know.. no gossip nor drama goes untouched by him. (but according to bif you didn’t hear it from him yk)

- hes more “street smart” than “book smart”. he has average, decent, passing grades, but the other preps (besides pinky) would ask him about “slang” or terms that they naturally wouldn’t know.

- dude can be meann. like really mean, he’s heard things from his brothers and bullies so putting that stuff together is brutal. depending on how sensitive the person is he can send someone like algie crying in a bathroom stall just by his words. or if your not as sensitive, you’ll at least be thinking about what he said for a good while.

- he actually respects old people very much. literally the type to walk a old person across the street then continue to fight a guy on the street for messing with a poor old woman.

- dry ah texter. he prefers irl convos and facetime so a texting convo would definitely be something like:

y/n: heyy bifff

bif: hi

y/n: wyd rn?

bif: nothing

y/n: i’ve got plans tmr if you wanna tag along?

bif: nope, i got plans too. bye

and yea.

- usually the quiet type, but when it’s a actual conversation going on he’s pretty funny.

- randomly says his outta pocket thoughts out loud, it’s pretty much a habit for him to just be like “i wonder how many 7 year olds i can beat up” and that’s that.

- smartass

- perfect ah teeth

- snores soooo fucking loud that you wouldn’t believe it. can literally hear him 3 doors down if the walls aren’t thick enough.

- likes rap, especially 90s rap but he’ll listen to new gen rap as long as it’s not mumble rap (he js might still listen to mumble rap at times)

- batman for halloween

- i forgot to add this- but i feel like he sometimes adds his 2 cents during awkward situations, or if not already awkward, he makes it awkward

Dating

- he is a simpp. literally will do anything for you. To taking his dads credit card to spoil you, Beat up people giving you a hard time or just scaring them off, and to just sneaking in your dorm to talk for hours

- he doesn’t do PDA really, but he will kiss you and play in your hair. or even whisper sweet things in your ear just to see you giggle or just smile

- he’d literally beg his dad to get his own car just so he can take you to even nicer places for dates

- he invites you to his house for dinner often and gets his cook to make your favorite foods

- (for girls) i’d think he isn’t around women a lot besides his nanny, pinky and some classmates he sits next to. but that’s about it. so when he first started dating you, pinky and his nanny were the ones he went to for advice, and so he basically did what they recommended just because he didn’t want to lose you as you were his first real and actual partner.

- his flirting isn’t actually bad.. i mean he’d hear his more experienced brothers say all types of things to girls, and he’d just try it on you and it works.

- let’s say bif is with a greaser.. he definitely wouldn’t see that coming at all. Bif taylor dating a greaser.. he probably be a bit hesitant showing you off with the preps (derby) simply because of the things they might say to you and he wouldn’t want someone he loves to hear that. but eventually he tells them something like “that’s y/n my partner,” and leaves it at that

- definitely needs validation and affection in the relationship.

End.

lmk how i did ‼️

#bully scholarship edition #bully rockstar #bully game #bully canis canem edit #canis canem edit #bully x reader #bif taylor #headcanon #headcannons

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