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livinginshambles · 2 years ago

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But what about me | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: Established relationship - You're jealous of the new girl but are mature about it, James is oblivious, and he also forgets your birthday and anniversary.

Notes: So here it is, a new version. I'm not going to continue the taglist, because it is kind of a hassle to take care of. Lily is our friend. OC Rosalie sucks. James is stupid. Spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, probably a happy ending, you know the drill.

Masterlist

“What’s on your mind?”

_________________________

You stared at James from a distance.

You shot up, your eyes widened in an alarmed manner before your posture relaxed when you saw it was Annabelle. She was a Hufflepuff ghost, a student who had tragically died during a Triwizard tournament, a few decades ago.

You shook your head in reassurance. “Nothing’s on my mind-“

“-So, the usual then?” Sirius’ voice popped up behind you and you wasted no time in elbowing him in the ribs, causing him to let out an “oomph”. You quickly waved at Annabelle who floated off.

“Watch it Padfoot,” you sternly told him, and you tried your best to give him a reprimanding look. By the laughing sound of his reaction, you failed in appearing intimidating.

“So,” Sirius began. “Big day tomorrow ey?” He wiggled his eyes suggestively. You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, my birthday. Stop making it sound weird,” you huffed, and you shook your head.

“Totally worth it, Annika just walked past us with a beet red face,” Sirius defended with a mischievous grin.

“You should stop your inappropriate comments, I mean you are literally my cousin,” you stated loudly, and Sirius earned a disgusted look from another student passing by.

Sirius’ mouth hung open and then he scrambled to defend himself. “So, we’re not related at all, she was kidding!” His voice and pitch raised by the end of the sentence as he called out to the student who’d given him a not-so-subtle side eye.

You gave him a smug look. “Fine,” Sirius relented. “Truce?” You two shook hands.

“You’re not trying to steal my girl, are you Pads?” Two arms found their way around your waist, followed by a kiss to your cheek.

Sirius let go of your hand to hold them up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare, Prongs, just chatting because she seemed lonely,” he shrugged. You shot him a glare.

“Lonely?” James’ attention immediately zoned in on you.

“He’s just talking out of his ass, Jamie,” you waved it off.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, because you were definitely not longingly looking at Prongs here, talking to that gir-“ This time, you kicked his shins.

“Nah, I’m just pranking you, mate,” Sirius nonchalantly changed course and patted James on the shoulder while he passed him. James ignored him and focused on you.

He spun you around by one arm, held above your head like you were doing a ballroom dance. His hands quickly settled on your sides when you faced him, and he leaned over to pepper your face full of pecks. You grinned up at him and he fondly looked back before pulling you in again for a deeper kiss.

“Really?” A portrait next to you spoke up snorted. “Right in front of my salad?” He gestured to the painted salad on the dinner table in front of him.

James pointedly ignored him and instead tried to pull you a little bit closer. Not that that was possible.

“Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” The man in the painting complained, and you would imagine the grimace on his face if you weren’t too preoccupied with James, who was leaving small pecks against your lips.

“Don’t like what you see, look away,” James murmured against you.

“Disrespectful cretin these days. I would look away, but you are right in my sight,” The portrait huffed dramatically. You softly pushed James away to offer the poor man a sheepish look but found that he’d already escaped to a neighboring painting.

“So tomorrow,” James started, and you couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of a date with James. That giddy feeling sank very quickly when James finished his sentence.

“I’ll be training our newest Chaser for the day. That’s the girl I was talking to before,” he explained. “Her name’s Rosalie James, isn’t that funny? Like her last name is James, it confused me a lot during today’s practice,” James continued, not noticing that your mind had wandered of the brunette girl.

“She even joked that if we’d get married, I could change my name to James James,” he laughed. You didn’t particularly see the humor in that.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I know I said that we would study together in the library tomorrow, but I think we should move that to Sunday.”

You frowned, “can we not just move it to the evening then?” you asked, wondering if James was really planning on spending the entirety of your birthday with someone else.

“Well, it’s from 9 o’clock until 7 o’clock in the evening, and we have a Quidditch party thing afterwards, but it’s more of a teambuilding thing. I can ask them if you can join though?” James offered.

You blinked at him in confusion before offering him a smile in return. “What, no- I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you denied. You assumed that he’d find some time to squeeze in a birthday celebration.

James shrugged. “Suit it yourself, love.”

You didn’t actually think James would forget your birthday. After all, James was literally the perfect boyfriend. He was proud to show you off to people, always ready to lend an ear when you needed to, and most of all showering you with love, any chance he gets.

But we’re all still humans after all, today was very busy so it probably just slipped his mind. That’s completely okay, you told yourself. And so, you tried to push away your thoughts, wanting to enjoy the cake that you and the girls had snuck from the kitchen as a late-night snack.

“Red velvet is the best, I swear,” Lily laughed with a sigh as she let herself fall flat on her back in satisfaction. Marlene agreed wordlessly, preoccupied with stuffing more cake in her mouth.

“Happy birthday again,” Alice smiled kindly at you, and you beamed at her. “Thank you, guys, for today, you shouldn’t have bought me the expensive painting equipment,” you said as you motioned towards the brand-new canvasses, brushes, primer, and oil paint.

“Nonsense,” Marlene replied in mock offense. “But you will paint me one day, right?” She batted her eyelashes at you. You pretended to think about it. “I mean, for 15 galleons?” you joked and then had to rush to take your words back when Marlene agreed without hesitance.

“I was only joking,” you laughed and swatted her lightly.

“Eh, leave the joking to your boyfriend and the other marauders,” Lily teased you. “Speaking of them,” she started, and you looked down, knowing the follow up question. “What did they get you for your birthday?

“Well,” you recalled your day so far. “Peter, Remus and Sirius gifted me an expandable suitcase, so I can put all my collectables in there.”

“Damn,” Alice whispered. You sheepishly scratched your head. “Yeah, it took me by surprise too. Last I checked, it cost way too much. I sure hope they acquired it in a legal manner,” you joked.

“I mean, both Sirius and James are well off, so maybe they could afford it and actually bought it,” Alice joked along.

You shrugged. “Oh, James didn’t pitch in for the suitcase. Remus said that he’d told them he was getting something more personal for me,” you said.

“Ugh, what a sap,” Lily commented lightheartedly, and you agreed with a chuckle. “So, what did he get you then?” Lily asked exasperatedly, already expecting something ridiculously grand.

There was a beat of silence.

“Uh, I’m not sure, we didn’t get around to celebrating my birthday together,” you settled on answering.

“What?” Marlene, Lily, and Alice asked in chorus.

“He was busy,” you defended James.

“The entire day?” Marlene squinted her eyes, absolutely seeing through your bullshit excuse. You shrugged in response but nodded your head. “The entire day?” She repeated in disbelief. “Like he couldn’t pop in in the morning or during breakfast?” You shrugged again.

“I guess he forgot,” you mumbled, starting to feel down again. Alice quickly caught on to that and decided to change the subject, trying to cheer you up. “Anyway, should we picnic tomorrow by the lake?”

You exhaled in relief. “I would love that.”

Sirius and James entered their dorms and greeted the other two marauders. “And? Did she like the suitcase?” Sirius immediately asked while he made himself at home on the foot end of Remus’ bed.

“Definitely, like she couldn’t believe it. She even did the happy wiggly dance,” Peter and Remus laughed at the memory. Sirius held his hand up to high five them and grinned in victory. “I told you guys, she needed someplace to put all that stuff she collects.”

James had been utterly confused since he stepped into the room and was not at all following the conversation. It was definitely about you, he figured that much from the wiggly happy dance. But what on earth were they buying you stuff for?

“You guys gave Y/N a suitcase?” He asked cluelessly.

“Yeah, why?” Remus inquired, eyebrows raised. “Is that not up to standard to the great James Potter?” He sarcastically asked, already expecting James to start gloating about whatever he got as a present for you.

“Well, if you guys have that much money in abundance to spend, save some for great pranks too,” James complained jokingly.

Sirius stared at James in confusion. “Huh?”

Peter tilted his head while examining James’ facial expression of confusion and then hesitantly asked. “James, did you forget about Y/N’s birthday?”

Time stopped for James, and he could hear his heart beat loudly, blood rushing to his ears as realization dawned on him, entirely to slowly.

“Merlin!” he loudly cursed, wide-eyed.

At his confession, Remus and Sirius’ jaws slacked. “You forgot!?” They shouted in unison.

Peter covered his ears at their yelling.

“Y/N!”

You turned your head, trying to find the source and halted in your step when your eyes landed on James who was frantically making his way through the hordes of students, crowding the corridor. He had been trying to find you since breakfast.

“Yes?”

James stopped in front of you, out of breath, a little flushed in the face and an apologetic expression adorned his face. You already knew what he was going to say and held up your hand to stop him in advance.

“I don’t need your apology,” you sighed out. James words died in his throat, and it took a moment for him to break out of it. “Love, I’m a right twit, I know.” He unintentionally shot you a defeated look with puppy eyes that you couldn’t help but melt for.

“How was your day yesterday?” was all you ended up asking as you continued making your way towards the library. You motioned with your head for him to follow you.

“I missed you,” James sincerely answered. He still pouted, seemingly upset, but all directed at himself of course. “I can’t believe I forgot,” he frowned. “I’ll work to be the greatest boyfriend again, I promise.” His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn’t suppress your amusement anymore, a smile lifting the corners of your lips.

“Well, you’re not off the hook yet, Potter.”

“Not the last name,” James whined. You shot him an unimpressed look that had him accept defeat.

“So, no kisses for you anymore,” you huffed for extra measure, in retaliation to his complaint.

“Wait what? You can’t do that, that’s so mean,” James immediately protested.

“For a week,” you added. “Forgetting about me yesterday was mean to me too.”

James’ hand made its way to intertwine with yours. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But this is still okay, right?”

You squeezed his hand. “It’s twelve o’clock right now. Do you want to have lunch first or study a little bit in the library?”

James gave you a bright smile. “Whatever you want.”

“I want you to choose,” you retorted.

“Lunch, please.”

James spent the following week almost draped over you. His entire body leaned into you, your hands always together, and every time he came in for a kiss, he reminded himself to respect your wishes, which left him burying his face in your neck instead.

It was Sunday and you hummed peacefully to yourself while you were sketching in the boys’ dorms, on James’ bed. You sat in the middle of his crossed legs, his arms were wrapped around your middle. His chin was rested on your shoulder which left him with the perfect view on your drawing in progress.

“I love you,” he quietly mumbled.

“I know, Jamie. I love you too,” you nudged him. James’ arms slipped away, and he moved away from you, you frowned at the loss of contact and warmth, leaning into the pillows behind you instead. “What are you-?”

James moved in front of you and nestled himself between your own crossed legs, back to your stomach, exchanging the position you had previously been in. He slouched a bit until his head leaned against your chest.

“My, you’re putty today, love,” you teased him softly. You closed your sketchbook and started untangling his curly hair.

“I’m really sorry I missed your birthday,” James whispered. You melted.

You chuckled and shrugged. “Sometimes things slip our mind. It just made me feel a little bummed out, that’s all.”

James hummed. “Well, I can promise you that I won’t forget about our anniversary though,” he said, voice filled with determination. You laughed. “That’s still a long time from now Jamie,” you mused.

“I’m already counting down the days so that there’s absolutely no way that I’ll forget it.”

“Hey James?”

James looked up at you.

“It’s twelve o’clock.”

James blinked twice and then a wolfish grin appeared as he practically jumped up and turned to face you, tackling you to bring you in for a kiss.

You groaned at the impact of your head against the wall behind you and James grinned sheepishly in apology before grabbing your hips and pulling you further down the bed to make space so he could finally press his lips to yours, all while completely melting into you and sighing in relief at the feeling.

And for two weeks, everything seemed to be perfectly fine. Until Rosalie joined the picture again, that is.

Dorcas sat next to you in class and elbowed you softly. “What’s up with James and that girl?” she whispered. You looked up from your notes and glanced at James who was nodding enthusiastically at a drawing that Rosalie was showing James. It was a portrait of him, and you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach at how well she drew him.

Features that were so on point, up to the little details like the three tiny birthmarks that seem to disappear amidst his freckles and that one freckle on his upper lip that you often pressed an extra peck to. You knew that for such a detailed, accurate and hyper realistic drawing, Rosalie had probably spent a lot of time studying him up close.

You averted your attention back to Dorcas and forced a smile. “She’s their new Chaser,” was all you replied.

Dorcas sent another skeptical look in James and Rosalie’s direction but didn’t comment on it any further.

“Guess what, love?!” James burst into the common room where you and Remus were calmly reading. James skipped over to the couch you were sitting on and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“What?” you entertained him.

“I just made a deal with the kitchen elves and they’re going to cook us a candle lit dinner for our anniversary,” James triumphantly grinned from ear to ear as if he had just won the Quidditch cup.

Your eyes widened and you jumped up in excitement and disbelief. “How did you manage to do that?” You curiously pondered.

James puffed his chest. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he secretively replied, and you huffed and swatted him with a laugh. “We’re all magicians here, James,” you pointed out with a pout.

James leaned down to press a kiss to your pouted lips. “Just enjoy dinner with me. It’s in three weeks.” He was not about to tell you that he made a deal with the elves to go and clean the kitchen every day after supper for three weeks.

“Thank you, James,” you said, voice muffled because you had your face buried in his neck, arms around him in a tight hug.

You were incredibly excited for your anniversary, having a surprise for him as well, as you managed to get him tickets to the Quidditch world cup.

You waited for James in the changing rooms, Gryffindor had just lost an important match to Slytherin, and you knew that James would be feeling down. The Gryffindor team walked in, and you got up from the bench you were seated on. When you found James, he immediately came in for a hug.

“You did great out there, love. I’m proud of you,” you whispered.

“But it wasn’t enough,” James frowned. “They’re just always better than us, it doesn’t even matter how much we practice, because in the end, we can’t beat them.”

You stroked his hair in a consoling manner.

“And what’s the point if we can’t bloody beat Slytherin,” James spat out in frustration. You threw Sirius a look over James’ shoulder.

“Don’t say that, Jamie. You’ve won the last two games, and you don’t have to win against them,” you tried. Apparently, that was not what James wanted to hear and you would later beat yourself up for seeming to discard his feelings.

James pulled away with a frown. “But it’s not enough!” You flinched at his loud tone. “I just want-, It’s,” he let out an aggravated sound. “You don’t understand, okay. The feeling of constantly losing to the same opponent, its-“ James was struggling to find the words and you tried to apologize, alarmed, and feeling guilty.

Rosalie showed up behind James and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll get them next time, James. She just doesn’t get it because she’s not on the team.”

You felt hurt by her dismissive statement and wanted to retort when James agreed with her. “Exactly, Y/N, you don’t even play Quidditch, you don’t know what this feels like.”

Your heart sank in embarrassment and hurt, and your mouth formed an inaudible ‘oh’.

“Come on, Prongs. It’s not her fault we lost, don’t take it out on her,” Sirius moved to stand next to James and swatted him lightly. James sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched his nose.

“’m sorry, love. That was totally uncalled for,” he admitted, and he reached his arm for you to pull you back in for a hug. You subtly evaded his arm and swiftly moved yourself to the door.

“No, no. I actually need to go meet up with Peter, so uh. You guys have fun. And yeah,” you awkwardly did a mini wave with your hand towards the team and fled.

Sirius leaned in towards James. “Good job, mate.”

“Sod off.” You didn’t leave his mind at all for the rest of the night.

You were about to scream bloody murder when you were shaken awake in the middle of the night, but a hand covered your mouth and when your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could vaguely make out your boyfriend.

“James?” you incredulously whispered. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

James motioned to his invisibility cloak. “Sleep with me?” He asked and gave you a pleading look. You folded and so you tripled to the boy’s dorms under the cloak and then nestled yourself in his arms. A leg draped over his while you two fell into a peaceful slumber.

James was once again looking everywhere for you. This time with a slight sense of dread instead of the usual excitement.

When he finally found you and saw that you were laughing along with Sirius, he hesitated. He was halfway through changing his mind on addressing the issue with you when you called out to him.

“Morning!” you said, and you slid a sandwich in his direction. “You missed breakfast today, everything okay?" You asked.

James glanced at Sirius, and he excused himself and then left.

“I know we were going to go to Hogsmeade for our anniversary, but Rosalie managed to get tickets to a Quidditch game of our favourite team, and we even get to meet them afterwards. Like I can ask them for tips on playing, it’s just such an opportunity…” He trailed off when he noticed your fallen expression, which you quickly tried to cover up.

“Hey, that sounds like an amazing opportunity,” you assured him because it was true.

“We’re still on for that candle lit dinner, though?” You tried to joke, but it came off more as an insecure question.

James immediately enveloped you in a big hug. “Of course we are, 10 o’clock in the evening and I promise I’ll make it up to you afterwards.”

You laughed quietly. “You better.”

Your eyes crinkled in laughter as the kitchen elves tried their best to cheer you up and keep you occupied while James was hopefully simply running late. But by the time it was one o’clock in the morning, you decided to call it a night and thanked the elves for teaching you two new dishes and chess.

On your way to the dorms, you heard hushed whispers around the corner. When you turned it, however, you saw it was empty, but you knew better. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, contemplating if you wanted to do this now or tomorrow.

“James,” you called out.

There was a beat of silence and then the invisibility cloak slid off to reveal James and Rosalie, sneaking back inside the castle.

“Love? What are you doing up at this hour-“ he stopped halfway through his sentence with a curse.

“Wait, Y/N, this is my fault, not James’,” Rosalie piped up, but you were done with her.

“Go.”

Rosalie shot James one last glance and when he didn’t look back at her, instead still frozen, attention focused on you, she scurried away.

“I lost track of time. We went to have drinks with the players and time flashed by so quickly and then I completely forgot. And then Rosalie got sick, so -“

“Stop talking about her for a moment.” James looked at you, confused.

“Every single time, it is always you and Rosalie. It’s always her.” You didn’t bother hiding your hurt feelings anymore.

“But what about me,” you whispered defeatedly.

James shook his head. “No, it’s not her. I swear it’s not. It’s bad timing.” he firmly stated. “This isn’t even her fault, it was me and my enthusiasm to go to the game, I-“

“Why do you keep defending her?” You cut him off, allowing tears to well up in your eyes. James bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry,’ he eventually admitted.

“Yeah,” you breathed out exhaustedly. “You always are, aren’t you? Just like you always promise to make it up to me.”

“I will,” he weakly defended. “We can go back to the kitchen right now, eat food, celebrate our anniversary,” his eyes desperately searched yours for forgiveness, but in the darkness of the castle, he couldn’t find any.

“I spent three hours in the kitchen already, I’ve eaten the great food that the elves prepared for me, and our anniversary has already passed,” you coldly stated.

James’ eyes averted to his own feet, ashamed.

You tightly shut your eyes for a moment. And basked in the silence. When you opened your eyes again, you took in James’ posture. He seemed so very small all of a sudden.

Then you walked straight past him, while he was still frozen in place. When you passed him, you halted next to him and turned your head towards him. “I really hope she’s worth it, James.”

This seemed to snap him out of it, and he turned around in a flash. “Wait!” he called out in panic and immediately lowered his voice. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?” His eyes were pleading, and he looked distraught.

You scoffed softly to yourself. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m tired, so I’m going to bed, or else I actually will,” you replied shortly and retreated to your dorm.

Sirius whistled when James entered the room and unknowingly started to rub salt right in James’ well-deserved wound. “One o’clock in the morning, damn Prongs. You two must’ve had fun in the kitchen. How was the food? Did you like the present? I helped her with that,” he boasted.

James shook his head, “I messed it up again, Padfoot.”

Sirius eyes squinted ever so slightly at James. “No way,” he ended up asking in disbelief.

James didn’t answer right away, and Sirius got up out of bed and approached James. Then he shoved him. “Tell me you showed up for your anniversary, Prongs.”

James who had been looking at the ground finally met Sirius eye to eye, tears pooling in his own eyes. “We just lost track of the time, and then Ro-“

“If you finish that sentence and it’s about Rosalie, I will hurt you, James Potter.”

James helplessly looked at Sirius. “But you guys have it all wrong. It’s not her fault-“

Sirius grabbed James by the collar and shook him for good measure. “Prongs, mate. Wake the bloody hell up, would you.” His eyes bore straight through James’.

“Rosalie fancies you. It’s as clear as day. She demands your attention at all times. Asks for Quidditch practice, specifically with you, for an entire day. She diminishes our Y/N’s value in front of everyone, is pretentious and makes it seem as if you two are more compatible. She tries so hard to have so many common things with you like her last name, and she literally has a sketchbook full of portraits of you, which is rather creepy. Besides, she fully knew you were supposed to be back by ten o’clock for your date. I get it man, it’s subtle, but you’re smarter than that.”

Sirius released James and sighed. “And worst of all, Prongs, is that you let it happen. And every time you do, she wins a little more until Y/N will stop playing this stupid game for you.”

James let Sirius’ words sink in and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right Sirius was.

“I don’t do it on purpose, Pads. Believe me. I know everything looks terrible, but I didn’t realize it.” James took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and pulled a hand through his locks.

“I forgot her birthday, but it was just a busy day, and I don’t really have a choice as captain but to train the new players. A-and I immediately apologized to Y/N when I realized what a twat I was in the locker room. And I didn’t miss my anniversary for a date with another girl or anything, there was a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet people I’ve looked up to, and I know it looks bad together because Rosalie was involved in all those instances, but I never meant to hurt Y/N. You know I’m in love with her.”

James started pacing through the room. It was a miracle that the others hadn’t woken up yet.

“Okay, I believe you,” Sirius decided after consideration. “But maybe try properly explaining and apologizing to Y/N. And then confront Rosalie and tell her to sod off.”

James nodded. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll do that.” Sirius looked a little skeptically at James and then patted his shoulder before climbing back in bed, while James did the same.

He had almost fallen back asleep when James asked, “Do you think she’d forgive me?”

Sirius was quiet. He’d seen the hurt look on your face multiple times and had instead tried to keep your mind off of James whenever he saw you stare at James and Rosalie.

“I think she might break up with me, Sirius,” James whispered in a small voice. He couldn’t sleep, his mind was filled with guilt, distress and you.

“Go sleep James, we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You took a deep breath before pushing through the grand doors of the Great Hall. You spotted the empty seat amongst the marauders and let your eyes slide across the Gryffindor table to look for James.

You found him talking with Rosalie, and you almost wanted to turn around and leave, when you spotted her sour face when he finally walked back to his seat. James wore a relieved expression and was greeted by the marauders with pats on the back in congratulations.

Sirius spotted you and waved you over, scooting over himself so you could squeeze in.

“Good morning,” you gratefully smiled at the boys and sat down. James absentmindedly loaded your favourite food on your plate out of habit and then hesitated. He hadn’t really dared look you in the eyes yet, still ashamed after lying awake all night, thinking of all the things he’d done.

When your stretched out hand appeared in his sight, he looked up and saw a kind expression on your face. He handed you the plate and relaxed a little.

“Sirius tells me you want to explain some things to me, so unless you have a date with Rosalie over there,” you gestured to the girl who was not looking happy. “We could talk after breakfast?”

James nodded eagerly, eyes wide. “Yes, please.” He stared at you, and almost frowned, wondering why you didn’t seem as angry as you did last night, or rather this early morning.

You noticed his stare and knew what he was thinking. “I told you; I was tired, upset and couldn’t deal with it then. But I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I have thought about everything and decided that I’m not going to rashly throw away two years of unconditional love and friendship between us, for things that I feel like you want to explain to me. It’s not so black and white in decisions when it comes to love and my love isn’t that fragile.”

“Thank you,” James breathed out, already feeling like crying.

“Don’t thank me, thank Pads, he is vouching for you,” you hummed. “But your explanation better be worth it. And that’ll be at least two weeks without kisses.”

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lupinqs · 1 month ago

Text

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ━━ Steal My Girl

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 7.3K

❀ ━ warnings: kissing, underage drinking

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: long time no see

CORRECTION: best friends who kiss a lot.

Like, a lot.

Paige hadn’t really entirely thought the whole thing through when she suggested it—when she’d looked Jo in the eye and said, best friends who kiss, like it was some totally normal, reasonable agreement between teammates, roommates, friends. But now, a little over a week since they got back from the ski trip, she’s realizing that maybe she underestimated just how much kissing was going to be involved.

Because it’s all the time. Whenever they’re alone, whenever there’s even a sliver of opportunity, Paige finds herself pulling Jo in, tilting her head, slotting their mouths together like it’s second nature. It’s like her body has required itself to need this—to need Jo’s lips, the warmth of her hands, the quiet little noises she makes when Paige catches her off guard. And it’s not just the kissing—it’s the way Paige always feels the urge to be touching her, in some way or another. A hand on the small of her back when they walk, a knee pressed against hers when they sit, fingers trailing along Jo’s arm absentmindedly while they watch TV in their apartment. She can’t help herself. And Jo never stops her.

Which is… confusing.

Because Paige knows how she feels—knows, with painful certainty, that she likes Jo. That she likes her a whole fucking lot. So much so that she isn’t even sure if like is the correct term for it anymore. And Jo? Paige thinks she feels the same. Just based on the way she acts, the way she kisses Paige back every single time like she means it, the way she touches Paige almost as much as Paige touches her. Paige knows Jo well, can usually get a good read on her. But this feeling is a little harder to pin down, and Paige doesn’t want to push.

So, instead, she just keeps kissing her.

Like right now.

It’s a couple of hours after practice, and they’re still in the gym, like they have been most days lately—Paige doing her so-called Coach P duties, working with Jo, pushing her to be better, sharper, more confident. Jo’s been improving, Paige sees it (which is certainly saying something because she was phenomenal when she got here), but today has gotten boring, and they’ve been at it for a while. So while Jo is focused on drilling her threes, Paige makes her move.

She steps up behind her, slipping her arms around Jo’s waist, pressing her front against her back. Jo’s still slightly damp with sweat, her body warm, her practice jersey loose and soft against Paige’s skin. Paige leans in, presses a kiss to the side of Jo’s neck, then another, then another.

Jo laughs, low and breathy, tilting her head slightly to the side. “I don’t think it’s very professional for a coach to be doing this,” she jokes.

Paige just hums against her skin, pressing more kisses there, squeezing Jo’s waist in her hands. “Eh, I think you fuck with it,” she says lowly, lips brushing against Jo’s jaw now, and then she’s spinning her around, hands firm on her hips, so they’re facing each other.

Jo blinks at her, her lips already slightly parted, like she knows what’s coming. Like she’s waiting for it.

Paige doesn’t make her wait for long.

She leans in and kisses her, and just like always, Jo melts into it almost immediately, her hands coming up to grip at Paige’s t-shirt, pulling her in closer. Paige grins against her lips, tilting her head, deepening the kiss, sucking at Jo’s bottom lip just enough to make her sigh into her mouth.

Jo mumbles against the blonde’s lips, “I’m supposed to be shooting—”

Paige just cuts her off with another kiss, firmer this time, and says, “Nah, tha’s enough. We’re done for the day.”

And, well, that’s that.

Jo doesn’t argue. She never really argues when Paige is kissing her like this. Instead, Paige can feel her let herself get pulled in deeper, lets Paige back her up a step, and another, until her back is pressed up against the padded wall of the gym. Her fingers dig into Paige’s sides, her body softening against the older girl’s, and Paige feels something hot and longing curl low in her stomach because—fuck, she loves this. She loves the way Jo feels against her, the way she kisses her.

They’re making out now, properly, Jo’s mouth warm and wet against hers, her hands sliding up, fingers gripping the back of Paige’s neck, and—yeah, okay, maybe this isn’t exactly what they meant when they agreed to best friends who kiss, but Paige doesn’t care. She likes this, needs this, and she isn’t sure she could ever bring herself to stop.

She presses closer, deepens it further, lets her hands slip beneath Jo’s jersey, her fingertips brushing the warm skin just above her waistband. Jo exhales sharply against her mouth, her grip tightening, and Paige swears she could stay like this forever.

Unfortunately, though, she can’t, because the sound of the doors creaking open slices through the moment, sharp and jarring.

Paige startles so hard she rips herself away from Jo like she’s been electrocuted, heart slamming against her ribs. In her haste, she stumbles—her foot catching on her own damn shoe—and before she can do anything about it, she’s going down, limbs flailing in the most uncoordinated way possible before she lands hard on her ass.

Pain jolts up her spine, but that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is the way Jo stares down at her, utterly incredulous, like she cannot believe what just happened. Paige feels her face heat, scrambling to push herself up, but then—

“Oh—for crying out loud,” comes a familiar, exasperated voice from across the gym.

Paige stills. So does Jo.

Slowly, they both turn their heads toward the entrance.

CD stands there, arms crossed, eyes sharp as she scans the scene before her: Paige flat on her ass, clearly having just fell, Jo still pressed against the padded wall, both of them looking entirely too guilty for two people who are, technically, just getting extra shots up after practice.

Paige swallows thickly.

CD exhales loudly, shaking her head as she strides further into the gym, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. “Paige, really?” she says, stopping a few feet away, hands now on her hips. “You have a brand new knee, and you’re out here throwing yourself on the floor like you want to set back your rehab?”

Paige opens her mouth to respond—probably something stupid ready to spill out, because she happens to specialize in that—but CD just waves a hand, not done yet.

“And you,” she says, shifting her attention to Jo, who immediately straightens under her stare. “Practice ended two hours ago. Two hours. That’s overdoing it, Jo. Your body needs rest as much as it needs work.”

Paige watches as Jo presses her lips together, nodding quickly, looking like she wants to be anywhere else.

CD sighs, rubbing her forehead like they’re giving her a headache. “I swear, you kids get more difficult every year,” she mutters. “You’re not doing yourselves any favors by pushing past your limits. Both of you.” She levels them with one last look before pointing toward the door. “Go home. Now. Get some food, get some rest. I don’t want to see either of you back here until morning practice. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jo says immediately.

Paige, still slightly flustered from the whole falling on her ass while making out with Jo situation, just mumbles, “Yep, got it.”

CD gives them a lingering, assessing glare, but—thankfully, thankfully—she doesn’t look suspicious. She doesn’t overanalyze the way Paige scrambled away from Jo like she was guilty of something. Doesn’t comment on the sheer amount of space Jo suddenly put between them.

And then, just like that, she’s gone, walking off toward the offices without another word.

Paige lets out a slow breath.

Jo meets her gaze, still looking vaguely amused by Paige’s very ungraceful fall but mostly relieved that they didn’t just get caught doing something they definitely shouldn’t be doing.

Paige swipes a hand over her face, exhaling. “Okay. That was—”

“Too close,” Jo finishes.

Paige nods. “Way too close.”

There’s a brief pause, one where Paige knows they’re thinking the same thing: they have to be more careful. They don’t plan on sharing this. It’s just between them, and it’s going to stay that way. Neither of them have any interest in messing with the team or getting in trouble with their coaches.

Then, Jo jerks her head toward the doors. “C’mon,” she says. “Let’s go home.”

Paige nods again, standing up with only mild embarrassment still lingering in her chest.

She doesn’t even hesitate before following Jo out.

IT’S GAME DAY. Their first one since break, and even though Paige won’t be playing—which she’s used to by now—there’s still a hum of anticipation in her chest, a familiar pre-game buzz that never really goes away, even when she’s sidelined.

She leans against one of the lockers, in her sweatsuit. The rest of the team has just jogged out to the curt for early warm-ups, and she and Jo are the last ones left in the locker room. Paige watches as the brunette pulls her long-sleeve shirt over her jersey, her movements quick. Then, Jo reaches for the chain around her neck, the small silver clover charm catching the light as she lifts it over her head.

“Hey, come here,” Jo says, glancing at her.

Paige pushes off the locker, stepping closer without question. She’s just magnetic.

Jo holds up the necklace—the one Paige gave her for Christmas. The clover cheek, meant for good luck. The word steady engraved into the back, meant to ease Jo’s anxiety, to remind her to stay calm. It’s supposed to be a symbol, a charm, something small to hold onto when she needs it.

Jo swallows, running her fingers over the chain. “I, um—I can’t wear it during the game.”

Paige nods, already guessing where this is going, but she stays quiet, letting Jo say it.

“So,” the younger girl continues, gaze flicking up to meet Paige’s, “will you wear it for me?”

Paige stills, something warm curling in her chest.

It’s a simple request. Logistically, it makes sense—Jo can’t have jewelry on while playing, and Paige is sitting on the bench, so there’s nothing stopping her from wearing it. But Paige knows Jo. Knows that this isn’t just about the necklace.

It’s supposed to be Jo’s good luck charm, her anxiety reducer. But it’s more than that.

It’s Paige. Paige is Jo’s good luck charm. Paige is the one who steadies her, keeps her from spiraling when the nerves creep in. This is just Jo’s way of saying it without actually saying it.

Paige nods, throat a little tight. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Jo steps closer, reaching up, her fingers brushing against the back of Paige’s neck as she clasps the necklace into place. Paige barely breathes, the touch so soft and careful. Jo’s eyes stay locked on hers the entire time, something quiet, something real passing between them in the silence.

Paige doesn’t move. Doesn’t want to move.

Jo finally drops her hands, her fingers briefly grazing Paige’s throat before she takes a half-step back. Her gaze flickers toward the entrance of the locker room, checking. When she sees no one’s there, she leans in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to Paige’s lips.

Paige exhales the second Jo’s lips touch hers, her hands finding purchase on Jo’s hips without even thinking. She wants to hold her there, keep her close for just a little longer. It’s so easy to get lost in this, in Jo, in the way her mouth slots perfectly against Paige’s own, the way her touch feels like it belongs.

But then Jo pulls away, smiling at her in that way—that soft, secret, adorable way that makes Paige’s heart feel like it’s about to burst.

“’Kay,” Jo murmurs. “I gotta go warm up.”

Paige barely gets the chance to nod before Jo is jogging toward the locker room exit, her shoes squeaking against the tile as she disappears down the tunnel.

Paige stands there for a moment, entirely still.

Then, she reaches up, fingers lightly brushing over the necklace.

And she smiles to herself, feeling like a complete and utter idiot in the best way possible.

The game starts soon after, and even though Providence isn’t exactly their toughest competition, Paige still locks in the second the ball tips. Sitting on the bench is always the worst part. She doesn’t care how many months it’s been since her injury, how many times she’s tried to make peace with it—she hates being stuck on the sideline. It doesn’t get easier. It just becomes more of a dull ache instead of a sharp one.

But she still does what she can. She argues with refs, hypes up her teammates, reads the game like she’s on the court herself. And she watches Jo.

She always watches Jo.

Even now, as she absentmindedly fiddles with the necklace around her neck, rolling the clover charm between her fingers, she can’t take her eyes off of her. Jo plays well—really well. She’s aggressive, controlled, confident. Every time she gets the ball, something good happens.

She ends the night with a solid stat line.

The locker room after the game has a carefree energy, the kind that always follows a dominant win. Paige’s teammates are laughing, hyping each other up, moving around in various states of exhaustion and post-game adrenaline. Paige drops onto the bench next to Jo without thinking, bumping their shoulders together.

“Twenty-six points, six assists, four steals,” she says, grinning. “Who you feelin’ like?”

Jo lets out a short laugh, shaking her head as she peels off the tape from her wrist.

Paige bites the inside of her cheek, trying not to let herself stare too much, even though it’s difficult. Jo looks good. She’s still flushed from the game, her hair messy, a sheen of sweat clinging to her skin. Paige knows it’s just from playing, just the natural aftermath of a game, but it does something to her, something that makes her stomach feel tight and her thoughts go places they probably shouldn’t when they’re sitting in a room full of their teammates.

She forces herself to look away, down at her hands, at the necklace still hanging from her neck.

No one knows what’s going on between them.

Sure, Aubrey and Azzi know that Paige likes Jo. They’ve known that for a while—Paige had told them herself, when she realized her feelings and had a crisis over it. But they don’t know about this. About the kissing. About how much they touch each other now, how it feels like Paige is always reaching for Jo in some way, and Jo never seems to mind. They don’t know how Jo had given her this necklace, this good luck charm, right before the game, looking at her like she was the actual good luck charm.

And they plan to keep it that way.

Aaliyah’s voice breaks through Paige’s thoughts and the blonde lifts her head to see her clapping her hands together. “Ted’s tonight?” she proposes, smiling and sticking her tongue out at everyone.

Immediately, everyone’s agreeing, and Paige watches as Jo grins and nods, saying, “I’m down.”

PAIGE, UNFORTUNATELY, IS not down.

A couple hours later, she’s exactly where she figured she’d be—sitting on the couch, laptop open, a blank Google Doc staring back at her like it’s personally offended by her procrastination. She really should be getting ready to go to Ted’s right now, celebrating the win, doing shots with the team, watching Jo all night because that’s what she does. But she can’t.

Because she has an essay due at midnight and she’s yet to write a single word for it.

She’s tapping random keys, brain empty, before she hears Jo’s bedroom door open, and then—

“Are you sure you can’t come?”

Paige looks up from her laptop just in time to see Jo step into the living room, now fully dressed and ready for Ted’s, and—

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Jo is in jeans—good, perfectly fitted jeans—and a cropped black tank top that makes her tits look so good that Paige has to force herself to blink. And then blink again, just to make sure she’s actually seeing her correctly and her brain isn’t just filling in the blanks with delusion.

Jo stands there, pouting slightly, waiting for an answer.

Paige wants to go out with her, she really does. She wants to throw on an outfit and follow Jo to Ted’s, drink just enough to feel warm and giggly, dance with her like they’re something more than whatever weird, undefined thing they’re doing right now. But she can’t. Because this essay is worth a huge portion of her grade, and she’s already pushing it by how long she’s waited to start it.

She sighs, closing her laptop as she stands up. “‘M sorry, Joey.”

Jo exhales, dramatic, like she wants to be annoyed but isn’t actually annoyed. “Ugh, I know. Fucking school.”

“Literally,” Paige mutters, her eyes very unsubtly dragging down Jo’s figure again. And, okay, she swears she’s just trying to be good. She wants to be good. She knows Jo has to leave, and she knows she has a paper to write, but Jo’s standing right in front of her, all pretty and pouty and wearing a top that Paige is definitely not strong enough to ignore.

Actually, suddenly, being good is the last thing on her mind.

She hooks her fingers into Jo’s belt loops without even thinking, tugging her in closer, her thumbs brushing just under the hem of Jo’s jeans, right over the soft skin of her hips. Jo lets herself be pulled in easily, and Paige absolutely takes advantage of that.

“You look good, by the way,” she murmurs, eyes flickering down, eyes lingering a little where Jo’s tip cuts off.

Jo grins, her fingers lightly brushing over Paige’s wrists. “Thanks.”

And Paige could respond, should respond, but instead, she just leans in and kisses her.

It starts slow, careful, just a press of lips, but then Jo makes this quiet, breathy sound against her mouth—barely even a noise, really, but Paige hears it, and she feels it in the way Jo’s fingers tighten slightly where they’re resting on Paige’s forearms. So Paige does it again, pressing in just a little more, lips parting slightly, letting herself get lost in it.

Jo moves her hands then, sliding them up from Paige’s arms to her shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of Paige’s hoodie, pulling her in, like she wants more, and Paige is absolutely not about to deny her. She tilts her jaw down, deepening the kiss, and Jo melts into her, using Paige’s hoodie as leverage as she presses forward, until the older girl is nearly stumbling a step back.

Paige shivers, and she thinks Jo must notice, because the next thing she knows, Jo is kissing her harder, more insistent, and Paige is gone. She slides her hands up from Jo’s belt loops, skimming over the bare skin of her waist, feeling the way Jo inhales sharply against her mouth. Paige smirks against her lips, but Jo doesn’t let her gloat for long, because suddenly her tongue is brushing against the seam of Paige’s lips, teasing, soft, and Paige’s breath hitches.

Paige’s tongue tangles with Jo in her mouth, and the blonde feels like she might actually lose her mind. She can taste the faint hint of gum Jo was chewing earlier, spearmint and something sweet, and Jesus Christ, it’s not fair. Paige groans against her lips, hands gripping Jo’s hips, pulling her in tighter, like that’ll somehow make it less overwhelming, but it just makes things worse.

Because Jo is warm, and she’s kissing her like she doesn’t care that she supposed to be leaving, like she’d rather be here, with Paige, pressed up against her, moving against her, making her forget about everything else.

And Paige lets her.

For far too long.

They keep kissing, slow but heated, Jo’s hands skipping from the back of Paige’s neck and into her hair, tugging lightly, and Paige feels like rolling her eyes into the back of her head at that, one of her biggest weaknesses. Instead, she just tugs Jo closer, slides her hands up her back, feeling her, mapping out the dips and curves of her spine with her fingers, and Jo sighs into her mouth, like she likes it, and Paige can’t take it—

And then Jo laughs. It’s breathless and warm, and Paige hates it, because she already knows what’s coming before Jo even pulls away.

Paige furrows her brows slightly, still hazy, lips still trying to chase the younger girl’s, but Jo moves her head away just enough to breathe, “Okay, okay, I really gotta go.”

Paige immediately whines in protest, reaching for her again, but Jo is already backing away, slipping out of her arms with a grin that Paige wants to wipe off her face—preferably by kissing her more.

Paige groans, hands falling to her sides in defeat. “Ugh.”

Jo just laughs again, shaking her head, grabbing her jacket from the bar stool. Paige watches her put it on, still pouting, arms crossed over her chest.

Jo catches the look, amused, rolling her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re mean,” Paige mutters, but there’s no truth behind it.

Jo grins, pulling her hair out from under her jacket before walking toward the door. Paige watches her, feeling annoyingly fond.

Before Jo steps out, Paige calls, “Be careful! And lemme know when I should pick you up!”

She’d offered earlier, since Jo was definitely going to drink with the team, and Paige would be here, sober, pretending to work on her essay.

Jo turns back, still grinning, and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

IT’S 12:45 WHEN Paige’s phone buzzes against the couch cushion, and she barely has to glance at the screen before she knows—Jo is drunk.

She sighed, stretching an arm over to grab her phone, and unlocks it to see a message that looks like Jo sent it while her thumbs were actively fighting against her. It’s riddled with typos, a mix of lowercase and uppercase letters in a way that definitely wasn’t intentional, extra letters thrown in where they shouldn’t be, and a string of random emojis at the end.

Ma freshie 💘

pOaige come pic me upl pls 😇😇😇😇😇😘😘😁😁😁😁😁🙏🙏🙏

Paige shakes her head, biting back a grin, and types out a quick response.

PB 😱😱

Yeah ofc

On my way!

She grabs her keys off the coffee table and slides her feet into her Uggs, barely bothering to get her heels fully in them. She already knows Jo’s gonna be clinging onto her like a koala when she gets there, so the faster she gets out the door, the better.

The drive to Ted’s is quiet, just the hum of the engine and the steady voice of SZA playing low through her speakers. The streets are mostly empty at this hour, streetlights flickering across the dashboard as she makes her way across campus.

When she pulls into the parking lot, she barely has to look before she spots them.

Caroline and Jo, standing near the exit of the bar.

And Jo is gone.

Like, fully, entirely drunk. Like, maybe drunker than Paige has ever seen her.

She’s hanging off Carol, her whole body pressed against her side, giggling at something Paige can’t hear. Caroline, for her part, looks about how she always does in situations like these—mildly exasperated, but patient, used to being the responsible one.

Paige parks and gets out, shutting the door behind her as she walks over.

It takes Jo a moment to register that Paige is there, approaching, but when she does, it’s appears to be the best thing that’s ever happened to her. Her face lights up, her whole expression shifting into something overjoyed, teeth glinting as she smiles.

“Paaaaige,” she practically sings, stretching out her arms like she’s about to fling herself at her, but Caroline tightens her hold last second, keeping Jo from face-planting into the pavement.

Paige snorts, reaching for her. “Hey, JoJo.”

Carol looks immensely relieved to pass Jo off, stepping back as Paige takes over. And Jo doesn’t even hesitate—she just sinks into Paige like a deadweight, her forehead landing against Paige’s shoulder as if it’s the exact spot she was meant to be in.

Paige has to brace herself, adjusting her stance and planting a firm hand on Jo’s lower back to keep them both balanced. She feels the younger girl sigh dramatically, pressing her face into the fabric of Paige’s hoodie.

“Nika was a bad influence,” Jo mumbles against her shoulder, her voice slurred and sleepy, barely coherent. “Made me do sooo many shots.”

Paige huffs a laugh, hand tightening around Jo. She lifts a questioning eyebrow at Carol, silently asking, That true?

Caroline nods, looking less than impressed. “Yep.”

Paige lets out another sigh, shifting her grip on Jo, who has now wrapped her arms around Paige’s waist like she has no intention of ever letting go. “Figures.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Yeah.” Then she glances back toward the bar. “Speaking of which, I should probably go check on her.”

Paige chuckles, shaking her head at the thought. “Good luck with that.”

The sophomore gives her a look, a mix of Yeah, no shit and I hate my life, before she starts to turn away. But before she goes, Paige notices the way Caroline’s eyes flick between them—Paige, holding Jo close and tight against herself; Jo, clinging to Paige like she needs it.

Paige feels her face get a little warm, cheeks surely growing slightly pink, but she doesn’t say anything.

And, thankfully, neither does Carol.

She just shakes her head, muttering, “Get her home safe.”

Paige nods. “Yeah, I got her.”

Caroline gives her one last look, something knowing in her expression that Paige definitely doesn’t want to analyze right now, before she turns and disappears back into the bar.

Paige exhales, adjusting Jo again, trying to get her to stand at least somewhat on her own. Of course, Jo just whines in protest, nuzzling further into Paige’s shoulder, her breath warm against the fabric. It makes the blonde’s stomach flip a little, which she pointedly ignores because now isn’t really the time.

“Jo,” she says, trying to pry her off gently. “Let’s go to the car.”

Jo groans, reluctant, but she shifts just enough to peer up at Paige with big, glassy, drunk eyes. “But you’re so warm,” she complains, her voice dragging, her lips pursed into the tiniest pout.

Paige’s gaze lingers on them for a little too long, before she swallows and rolls her eyes slightly. “Yeah, well, my car is warm, too,” she tells Jo, trying to sound persuading. “C’mon, I’ll even turn the seat warmers on for you.”

Jo hums like she’s actually considering it. Then, she huffs dramatically. “Fine.”

Paige makes a satisfied sound, hooking her arm around Jo’s waist tightly. And she tries to walk them both, but she’s essentially having to drag the younger girl toward the car—which wouldn’t be so bad if Jo wasn’t actively working against her by being all clingy and floppy and generally very unhelpful.

She keeps stopping every few steps, stumbling a little and giggling like something is hilarious, even though there’s nothing funny happening at all. At one point, she lets her full weight slump against Paige like she’s actively trying to make this all the more difficult, arms draped around Paige’s waist in a way that should be frustrating, but instead makes Paige’s chest flutter the way it always does around Jo.

Paige huffs, but she can’t even pretend to be mad.

“Joey, you gotta walk,” she says, shifting her grip and trying to get her to move again.

Jo merely makes a sound in the back of her throat, resting her chin on Paige’s shoulder like she has no intention of ever moving on her own again. “Mmm. Don’t wanna.”

Paige groans, but it’s not a real groan, more like a God, you’re annoying but also cute and I hate that I don’t actually hate this kind of groan. Still, she tightens her hood and somehow manages to get Jo the last yard or two to the car, wrestling her into the passenger seat. Jo groans dramatically as she finally lands on it, slouching back like she’s exhausted from all the work she didn’t do. Paige just rolls her eyes, bending down to buckle her in.

And, of course, Jo isn’t helpful for this part either. She squirms, giggling as she shifts just enough to make the task far harder than it needs to be. “You’re being so bossy,” she teases, voice all slow and syrupy, like she’s speaking in molasses.

“Yeah, maybe if you cooperated, I wouldn’t have to be,” Paige mutters, finally getting the damn thing to click into place.

Jo just beams at her. “You always take such good care of me, Paige.”

Paige’s stomach does that stupid flipping thing again, but she just ignores it, patting Jo’s thigh like that won’t make things worse for her, and mutters, “Yeah, yeah. Stay put.”

She closes the door before she can see whatever expression Jo makes at that and walks around the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot.

The drive home is mostly quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio and Jo’s occasional laughs to herself, like she’s still thinking about something funny from earlier. Paige just focuses on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the gear shift—that is, until Jo reaches for it, her fingers beginning to absentmindedly toy with hers, running over Paige’s rings, twisting them slightly like she’s seeing which ones might come loose. She’s not even looking, her head leaned back against the seat, her eyes half-lidded, mouth tugged up in this lazy little smile. It’s nothing. Just Jo being drunk and fidgety. Cute, even. Paige flexes her fingers slightly, hooking a few of them around Jo’s to hold them. She glances over to see Jo’s smile widening slightly, her head tilting down further.

But then, with zero warning, Jo moves, swiping Paige’s phone from where it sits on the console, and unlocking it like it’s her own. Paige barely has time to wonder what she’s doing before she hears it—the loud, unmissable opening to Steal My Girl.

“Jo,” Paige groans, immediately shooting her an exasperated look.

Jo just grins, squeezing Paige’s hand and looking entirely too pleased with herself. “I did you a favor.”

“A favor, bro?” Paige repeats. “By playing One Direction in my car?”

“Yes,” Jo says seriously, nodding like this is a widely accepted fact.

Paige rolls her eyes once more but doesn’t bother fighting it, knowing at this point it’s a losing battle. Jo loves One Direction, and therefore she loves forcing Paige to listen to them because she knows Paige isn’t really a fan.

Jo makes it a whole thing, too—drunkenly singing to the song dramatically, pointing at Paige during the most ridiculous lyrics, making full eye contact while belting and messing up the words.

It’s a little annoying, even more funny, and just so Jo.

And Paige just… lets it happen.

Because Jo is drunk, and happy, and still playing with Paige’s fingers in her lap, and Paige is so, so stupid for her.

By the time time Paige turns the car off and the engine cuts out, the energy Jo’s been bubbling with has fizzled out. She’s slouched against the passenger door, her head lolling back, eyes fluttering a little. Paige isn’t sure whether Jo having too much energy or not enough is better, so she just shakes her head and gets out of the car, walking over to the passenger side. She opens the door, leaning over Jo to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“A’ight, come on, Joey,” Paige mutters softly, her fingers brushing against Jo’s arm as she starts pulling her from the seat. Jo’s body goes limp, a deadweight of tiredness, her head falling against Paige’s shoulder. Paige can’t help but smile fondly as she wraps an arm around Jo’s waist, feeling the younger girl lean into her.

“Drank too much,” Jo mumbles out, and there’s a laziness to her words that makes Paige’s heart heavy and fond. It’s cute when Jo’s like this—all messy and soft.

“Just a little,” Paige says as she guides Jo through the parking lot, toward the dorm building, supporting her as she sways with every step. It’s not very hard, not like it was getting her to the car when Jo refused to keep her feet going. Now, she stumbles but keeps them moving, and even though she’s wobbly, she’s light enough for Paige to guide her without much problem.

When they finally make it up all those stairs, the slow drag of their bodies, the weight of Jo’s arms hanging loosely around her neck, makes Paige’s shoulders ache a little. Jo’s still mumbling, not really saying anything coherent, just sounds that remind Paige of how endearing Jo is when she’s this tired.

As soon as they’re inside the apartment, Paige shuts the door behind them with a soft click. Without thinking too much, she guides Jo over to the couch and drops to her knees in front of her, hands already reaching for Jo’s shoes. Jo stares down at her with unfocused doe eyes, barely lifting her feet as Paige unties the laces and slides the shoes off gently. Once they’re off, Paige’s hands linger on Jo’s ankles, making sure she’s stable there, before standing up, leaning in close to the brunette. She slides her arms around Jo’s waist, slowly walking her toward the bathroom. Paige doesn’t say anything, which she knows is probably unusual since she always seems to be talking, but there’s really no need right now. She knows Jo’s tired, knows that this is exactly what she wants: to be close, to be taken care of.

In the bathroom, Paige gently pushes Jo to sit on the closed toilet seat, leaning her back slightly so she’s steady. Jo’s head tilts, her face softening, her eyes fluttering half-closed. Paige grabs the makeup wipes, pulling them out and gently wiping away the traces of the night—smudged eyeliner, remnants of mascara and concealer—making sure to be soft.

Jo’s eyes flutter open when Paige wipes the last bit of makeup away, and she lets out a sleepy laugh. “You’re so nice, P,” Jo murmurs, and her voice is a little slurred, but she sounds happy.

Paige shakes her head, trying to fight the grin stretching her face. “Quit bein’ so cute,” she tells the younger girl, reaching for a towel to pat Jo’s face dry.

Jo lets out another quiet sigh, her head falling back a little bit more until Paige reaches over to hold the back of her neck, keeping her upright. “Can’t help it,” Jo replies with a cheeky, delirious smile that has Paige chuckling. The blonde shakes her head again, as if in disbelief, her fingers brushing against Jo’s cheek softly. She’s sure Jo’s right—that she can’t help being cute. It only makes sense, considering she always is.

“‘Kay, c’mon,” Paige murmurs, reaching for Jo’s hands to pull her up to stand once more. She helps her out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. As soon as they reach the edge of the bed and Jo realizes, Paige thinks she hears her mumble thank God. The blonde chuckles a little, keeping her hold on Jo’s arm so she’s still standing, swaying slightly. Jo’s gaze shifts between the bed and Paige, with those half-lidded eyes try at make everything in the older girl’s chest go soft. “Just wanna sleep, Paige,” Jo whines.

Paige nods, pulling her a little closer so she doesn’t fall down onto the mattress yet. “I know, but you gotta change first,” she says. “You can’t sleep in jeans, c’mon.”

Jo groans in response, and she manages to pull away from Paige enough to flop down onto the bed. “I don’t wanna change,” she complains, clearly not having the energy to argue much but still wanting to put up some kind of fight. “‘M so tired.”

Paige lets out another quiet laugh, brushing Jo’s hair from her face again, her hand lingering for just a second too long as she gazes down at her. Jo’s lips are slightly parted, her face still flushed from the alcohol, and the sleepy pout on her lips makes Paige want to kiss her. But she doesn’t, not right now. Instead, she takes the rare role of being the responsible one.

“I know,” she repeats, her hand gently pulling at Jo’s arm to get her to sit back up. “But you’re gon’ be a lot more comfortable if you change. Just for a sec, ‘kay? Then you can sleep.”

Jo’s eyes flicker with resistance for a moment, but Paige can already see the fight leaving her. The brunette lets out a deep sigh, her voice a little slurred. “Fine. But only ‘cause you asked nicely,” she says.

Paige grins, nodding, and going over to Jo’s dresser to pull out the small pajama shorts she likes and one of her oversized t-shirts. She hands them to Jo before saying, “Okay, I’mma turn around, just lemme know when you’re done.”

Jo mumbles something about how she doesn’t care, but Paige isn’t about to test that line of thinking tonight. She’s never seen Jo naked, and she doesn’t plan on the first time being when the girl is so drunk she can hardly stand. So, Paige keeps her back turned as Jo changes, her fingers fingering with the edge of the comforter while she waits. She can’t help but smile a little in amusement as she hears Jo rustling behind her, occasionally sighing, or making a little noise like she’s struggling with the shirt.

Finally, the sound of fabric shifting stops, and Jo clears her throat. “I’m done,” she announces, her voice a little sing-songy, and Paige turns around, meeting Jo’s sleepy, soft-eyed gaze. She’s so cute, so completely lost in her own little world right now. Paige moves to sit down next to Jo, who’s already sinking into the bed, her arms stretching out toward Paige, pulling her in without even realizing it.

Paige doesn’t hesitate; she lies down beside her, wrapping her arm around the brunette’s waist, feeling the soft weight of Jo’s body settle in close. Paige hears Jo let out a content sigh, curling up against her, her face nuzzling k to the crook of Paige’s neck. Jo’s legs tangle with hers, and Paige tightens her hold, slipping her hand down Jo’s back to pull her closer, just a little bit more.

Jo moves again, this time throwing her arm over Paige’s chest, and as Paige adjusts, she can feel Jo’s breath warm against her neck, before her lips pressing down, the lightest of kisses. She presses a few more on her skin, soft and tender. But then, without warning, Jo’s lips find a spot just below Paige’s ear, and she sucks, her tongue ghosting along skin. The warmth of it catches Paige off guard, her pulse speeding up slightly.

Paige would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel warmer—her cheeks, her chest, her stomach, all of it flushed with the quiet burn of want, even though it’s more playful than anything else. A soft, breathy chuckle escapes her lips, her hand reaching up to brush through Jo’s hair absently, trying to ignore the way her heart is racing. “You tryna mark me up?” she teases.

Jo hums against her, the sound so sweet, yet impossibly drunk. Paige can practically feel her smile in the way Jo presses her lips against her skin again, then playfully nips at her neck.

Paige pinches at Jo’s waist lightly, trying to get her to pull away and answer. Jo makes a little sound before disconnecting her lips from Paige’s skin. “Gotta make sure they know,” she mutters, and her words come out in an endearing slur. “Gotta show the other girls that I get you the most.”

Paige blinks at her, momentarily confused. The words don’t quite register at first. Because there’s no way. No way that Jo actually thinks that there are still other girls. Paige can’t wrap her head around that. How could there be? The two of them have been inseparable, spending more time together than she can even remember, and here Jo is, drunk and rambling about some nonexistent competition. Paige dips her head to push a strand of hair away from Jo’s face, trying to search her eyes—but they’re still closed, her head hidden in Paige’s neck.

“Jo,” the blonde says softly, her voice a little strained with confusion.

“What?” Jo asks, barely lifting her head from Paige’s shoulder, her voice sleepy and thick with alcohol. “The roster needs to know I’m your favorite.”

Paige’s heart stutters for a second, and then she pulls back fully to look at Jo, her eyebrows furrowing. It’s insane to her that Jo thinks this. The roster has been virtually nonexistent since Asher and Jo broke up, maybe a couple hookups here and there, but since the ski trip? Nothing. Of course not. No one compares to Jo, even if they have each other convinced the kissing and touching and all of it is just platonic.

“Jo,” Paige repeats, a little firmer this time. “Don’t act like I haven’t been spendin’ all my time with you.”

Jo shrugs like it’s nothing, her eyes barely open. “So?”

“So,” Paige continues as she pulls Jo closer by the waist, her fingers trailing lightly over her skin. “There are no other girls.”

The words hang in the air for a beat longer than Paige expects. Jo doesn’t respond immediately, her body still loose and pliant in Paige’s arms, but Paige can feel the shift in her. She can feel Jo’s body relax, a subtle tension leaving her shoulders as if the words take some heavy weight off of her. And Paige, despite everything, feels something lighter within herself too.

She watches Jo’s face soften, a little smile pulling at her lips as she mutters something under her breath that Paige can’t quite catch. And suddenly, Paige is grinning too, her chest feeling warm. Maybe this is just drunk Jo talking, but Paige thinks this also may be more than that. That Jo is finally letting her see something real without even realizing it.

Jo hums, her hand still tucked snugly against Paige’s side, as if to make sure she’s not going anywhere. “Good,” she says quietly. “Good,” she repeats, and Paige doesn’t need to hear anything more. She can feel it in the way Jo’s body relaxes, in the way her fingers curl tighter around Paige.

Paige’s heart skips a beat or two. She lets herself think—if Jo cares about other girls, doesn’t that mean something? That maybe she feels the same; that it’s not just platonic? That maybe they’re actually on the same page, and the feelings are reciprocated, and they’re not just two best friends who casually kiss, but more than that? Or, at least, on the track to being more?

She hopes so. She really, really hopes so.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wbb #wcbb #uconn #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers series #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers angst #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #ncaa wbb #wlw #nobody gets me

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secretsofafangirll · 1 year ago

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you're still my favorite girl

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!oc

summary: in which chris and isabelle are childhood best friends, who have always had underlying romantic feelings for one another. when chris starts hanging around other girls, isabelle can't help but question their relationship.

tw: talk of insecurity, kind of soft!dom chris, sexual situations but no real smut. mention of fem!oc being "tiny". use of "ma'".

"Come on, Belle," Chris shoots his hand out for her wrist and pulls himself from the couch as she walks away, "You'll have fun, I promise. Madi's gonna be there, Matt and Nick are going. If you're not gonna go for yourself, at least go for them." He pleads staring down at her, fiddling with her fingers.

"No, Chris. I'm sorry, but I'm not going. The last time I went to a party, someone threw up on me and one of Madi's old friends called me ugly, so," She raises her brows at the boy, "I will be staying in the comfort of my bed for the night with Sam and Colby on my screen."

She starts to walk away but Chris reaches out for her again, this time wrapping an arm around her waist hand colliding with her stomach and pulling her back, "Chris!" She giggles as she stumbles, her back coming in contact with his chest.

"Just stay here, B. I'll want to be with you when I get home. Just curl up in my bed and steal my clothes like you always do, hm?" He tickles her ribs and flexes his bicep around her frame.

"Fine," She huffs, throwing her head back against his chest, "but I'm wearing that unicorn, rainbow bullshit hoodie." Putting a finger in the air, she pulls away from his body, and heads for his bedroom.

"Okay, then I'm gonna head over. Be safe. I'll lock the door behind me and don't answer unless it's me, Nick or Matt. Behave." He points and narrows his eyes at me.

"Yes, sir." She jokes, putting her hands behind her back and bowing at the man. His eyes glaze over momentarily and his cool guy act falters for a moment.

"Love you, Belle."

"I love you, Chris." She calls and makes way to his bedroom.

༺♰༻

It's been three and a half hours since Chris left and Isabelle has heard nothing but silence. Not one text or call. She called and texted him several times to ask when he's planning on getting home, as she's getting tired, but he hasn't responded to a single one.

She worries that something bad has happened to him but she knows that Nick and Matt would've called if anything went wrong. While Sam and Colby play quietly in the background of her thoughts, she chomps on her acrylic nails and stares off into space.

Anxious thoughts fill her mind and tiredness threatens to take over. What if he's hurt? What if something happened to Nick and Matt and Chris doesn't have time to tell me? What if Nick and Matt have no idea something is wrong with Chris and he's just suffering all alone with no one aware?

She knows this is the worst thing for her to be doing right now, so to distract herself, she hops out of his bed and saunters into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she softly pads toward his bedroom door, she hears her phone vibrate against his nightstand. Immediately relief floods her chest and she turns on her heels to run back. She lunges for her phone and is only met with disappointment when she sees that it was just a stupid Instagram notification. But her heart drops when she sees it was Chris who caused the notification in the first place. So he has time to post on Instagram, but not to text his best friend back? Makes total sense!

She reluctantly clicks on the notification to open a story he posted. It's him with one of his other good friends in the influencer space, Paige. He has an arm draped over her shoulders while she curls into his side and blows a fake kiss at his smirking, smug face. The text on the photo reading, My day 1 #1 @paige.

An unfamiliar feeling washes over her. His day one number one? She thinks. What about me? I've known you since kindergarten.

She doesn't know how to describe this feeling. It was like her favorite toy being pried from her hands as a child. Or the spot on the best team in the world being given to someone else. Being given to someone better. Was it jealousy?

No way. She thinks. He's my best friend, I'm not jealous of someone who he's possibly romantically interested in. But when she taps on her profile and sees she also posted a story, she knows exactly what to expect. And boy is she jealous when she sees it.

Paige's post is a different picture. It's a picture of them, back to back. both with sunglasses pointing finger guns at the camera. Nothing's funny about the picture, but Isabelle can't help but laugh. Not at the way they look or the stupid sunglasses, but because Isabelle posted that exact picture of her and Chris not that long ago. She taps through a highlight dedicated to her best friends and two months ago, that exact pose pops up.

Rage courses through her veins. Jealousy and rage flow all throughout her body. You wanna steal my man and my posts? She thinks. And Chris wants to blatantly ignore my attempts to contact him but then be active on social media anyway? Go right ahead.

At this point, she doesn't want to call him or text him. She doesn't even really want to see him at all. Hell, she has half the mind to drive back to her own house and let him find his house empty. But she knows that isn't the right thing to do. So she stays put and tries her best to fall asleep in her best friend's bed.

༺♰༻

Isabella had fallen asleep. Comfortable and warm in Chris hoodie and in his bed. He slowly crept in the front door with Matt and Nick two hours later, careful not to wake the sleeping girl. He signaled with his hand for the two to keep it down as he walked in. Though suddenly, Nick dropped his phone and the smack echoed through the entire house.

Chris' head whips around to Nick with wide eyes "Dude," he whisper shouts, "Shut the fuck up."

Matt and Nick make it to their respective bedroom quickly and quietly, eager to go to sleep after such a long night. Chris, on the other hand, is eager to see his sweet best friend. He ever so carefully pushes down the door handle and cracks the door to see Isabelle sleeping so peacefully on his bed, drowning in his large hoodie she swore she would wear. Her soft breaths making her hair move with every exhale, her small hand resting on the pillow beside her head. He takes a moment to take in her beauty. He can't help it. Chris has always thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. With her long dark hair and piercing green eyes, he could never deny beauty like that, even if she's his best friend.

He tips toes to his closet and closes the door behind him to change. He peels off his shoes pants and shirts, stripping to his boxers. He doesn't have it in him to shower tonight. After forcing himself to socialize with people he didn't even really like that much, all he wants to do is cuddle with the one person he can never get tired of being around. He quietly exits his closet, grateful that his girl is still asleep. He creeps over to his side of the bed and slides in carefully next to her.

He scoots in closer to her and wraps an arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. He peels the hood from her head and places a loving kiss on the top of it. However, he feels her shift beside him and she pulls her body away from his altogether, leaving no part of her touching him at all, save for his hand which is still tacked on to her waist. When he doesn't take the hint, she reaches behind herself, grabs his hands, and roughly tosses it off of her body.

Chris' brows raise in shock at her rejection and when he reaches out for her again, she scoots even further away, almost falling off the bed.

"Belle," He whispers. No answer. "Belly," He tries again a little louder. Still nothing. "Isabelle," He speaks in a normal speaking voice and places a hand on her hip but she only shrugs him off again and doesn't answer. He props himself up on his elbow stretches his body over hers and turns on the light, "Isabelle Bianca Lavigne, if you don't tell me why you won't let me touch you right now, I swear to god B," He trails off, his voice stern and assertive.

Isabelle finally answers at this, her face bare of any makeup, only covered in sadness and mild insecurity and she turns to face him. His eyes soften slightly at her expression but he maintains composure and control of the situation. He's always had that power over her. And in a strange way, both of them like it more than they should.

"There's nothing to say, I'm just hot." She lies through her teeth, and turns back over.

"Bullshit," He scoffs, "You're in a thick ass sweatshirt, under my heavy ass comforter and turned my fan off. Plus, you're always freezing cold. So try again, Isabelle, and this time, don't lie to me."

"Okay, Chris, if you don't want me to lie," She spits and turns to face him, "I text you five times and I call you six. I leave four voicemails and I even call Matt and yet, I get nothing but radio fucking silence from everyone. Then, my phone buzzes and when I think it's my best friend finally texting me back, I see he's posting on Instagram instead. And not only that," She continues, looking around the room as if there are imaginary cameras around, "He's posting other girls, calling them his number ones, as if his, correct me if I'm wrong, best friend isn't worried sick in his bed, because he won't text her back. So, sue me, if I don't want you to touch me right now, as I'm not feeling very loved." She huffs, rolls back over and turns the light back off.

Chris sits, his mouth agape in silence. She can shut him up real damn fast, it seems. She's never said anything like that to him. He's around other girls all the time and she's never reacted like that before. He blows out a long breath before reaching for her body again. He drapes an arm over her waist and starts to pull her against him again.

She struggles against his strength again but he whispers her name over and over in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She gives in and relaxes in his grip, "There we go. Relax and let me talk to you, okay? And let me see that face, hm?" He pulls the hood from her head and turns the lamp on once again. There she is. He whispers to himself.

"Is this about Paige?" He questions, turning her onto her back and pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. He brushes her hair out of her face and behind her ear, his hand slipping under the hoodie and onto her bare stomach, his pinky slipping under the waistband of her panties; a habit he had made when she got comfortable enough to sleep without any pants on.

"Christopher," She groans slapping her hands over her face, "It's embarrassing."

"No," He grabs her wrists and pulls her hands from he face, "it's not. She's just a friend, I promise. She wanted to post those for some P.R. bullshit. I barely know her." He swears, looking into her innocent green eyes. His left hand plays with the hair on her forehead and his right hands still lies on her stomach and halfway in her underwear.

"You don't understand, Chris. I already have a hard time being your friend because of your fans. Sometimes I question if any of this is even worth it and then when I see shit like this, other women who just think you're young and sexy, claiming you and shit, it just makes me wonder if I'm really your best friend or if you just keep me around because you feel like you have to. There are so many women who could have, who should have you, but I feel like I'm just keeping you from being happy. Fuck, I mean, I react like this when someone just posts some bullshit about you. It's actually pathetic Chris. And not to mention, Paige is gorgeous. Like, the kind of beautiful you think is made up. Shes blonde and skinny and kind and social and successful, and everything I'm not. Just seeing you with her, looking so happy and so friendly and close. It made me want to tear my skin off, Chris. I've never felt like that before, and it's really scaring me."

Chris looks stunned next to her, his hand frozen on her head and on her waist. He closes his eyes and shakes is head, "Wait back up. One, fuck my fans and what they have to say about you. I love you more than I love any single one of them. Two, you are my best friends. Always have been. No other woman is ever gonna come between that. Third, sure Paige is pretty, but you. Oh, Belle, I call you princess for a reason. You are the most beautiful woman I have seen and I never want to hear you say you aren't, what was it, skinny, kind, social and successful ever again, do you understand?" He grabs her jaw and forces her face on his. She just stares into his eyes and nods like she's under a spell. "You are a goddess to me, Isabelle. If I have to get your name tattooed on my forehead and that promise burned into my skin for you to believe me, I will." He looks down into her eyes once more, his grip still strong on her chiseled jaw.

She leans into his warm body, his bare chest on display for her to touch. She flattens her hand against his left peck and stares into his blue eyes. His right hand moves to the small of her back, his pinky still in her panties. He presses her body into his, pushing her stomach into his groin. The two of them suddenly become very aware of two things: (1) The meaning of the conversation they just had. (2) The lack of clothing both of them have on. Chris clad only in his boxers and her in his sweatshirt with no shirt or bra and a pair of tiny lace panties.

"I don't just love you, Isabelle," He whispers, "I'm in love with you. You're my best girl, always have been. I can meet a thousand girls like Paige and you'll always be my favorite girl."

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," She sighs, before stretching her neck to meet his, her nose brushing against his.

"God, Isabelle, you're gonna be the death of me", Chris breathes, before roughly pressing his lips against hers. He rolls himself onto his back, with his back pressed against the headboard. He grabs her hips and hoists her over his lap, allowing her to straddle his thighs. She places her hands on his shoulders as his hands roam her tiny body. The kiss is wild and wet as their tongues exchange saliva between them. Isabella involuntarily grinds her hips down into his, but Chris is too caught up in the kiss to notice.

"Tell me, ma', " He breaks the kiss and catches his breath, "Say it. Tell me you love me. I can't keep kissing you if I don't hear you say it."

She leans into his ear and blows a soft breath, causing his body to shudder, "I'm in love with you, Chris. I always have been."

With that, his hands squeeze her waist and his lips are back on hers. The kiss is rough and passionate and insanely sloppy. This time, when Isabelle swivels her hips on his, his breathe hitches and his hands shoot out to stop her, "Baby, baby." He pulls away form the kiss and the loss of suction sounds around the room, "You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now, but I'm too tired to fuck you how you deserve. I need you to answer me honestly Princess, will you be able to control yourself if I don't stop now?" He tilts his head. She bites her bottom lip and gives him guilty fuck me eyes, shaking her head. "So do I have to stop?" He questions one more time to be sure.

"I think so," She drops her hands from his shoulders and places them on his thighs behind her, her hips still moving slightly against his grip.

"That's okay. We can go to bed, I can hold you as much as I want. and in the morning, we can figure all of this out and if you're good, I'll fuck as hard and as good as my best girl deserves, how's that sound? Hm?" He questions, running his hands up her waist, teasingly tugging on her panties and letting them snap back every here and there.

"Fine, I guess." She gives in and flops over to her side, off of his lap, turning away from him.

"Ma' ," He chuckles softly, "I'm doing this for you, ya' know kid? I could fuck you right now, but it wouldn't be that good and you know that." He pulls her back over to face him and hikes her thigh over his lap and stomach as he lays down beside her, he head resting on his chest.

"Mhmmm" She hums annoyed and tired, lazily bucking her hips against his literal hip bone and groin.

"Settle, ma', " He whispers gripping her hip tightly and turning off the lamp. The two fall asleep, her hands curled up under her jaw and his hands roaming every inch of the body that will soon belong to him.

///

a/n: alright! how do we feel? i definitely got a little carried away and i'm not sure how i feel. let me know please! also, let me know if ya'll want a part 2.

like and reblog pls!!! i need my blog to grow....

all the love, she ☆

part 2 here!!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x oc #chris sturniolo x fem!oc #childhood best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #light smut #dom/sub #Spotify

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twisted-confessions · 8 months ago

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I just found this really cool picrew and wanted to try and make an Overblot version of my Twst/HTTYD OC Bella and it turned out SO GOOD!!! (Lore dump about her Overblot below the cut)

Anyway, new tag game! Use this picrew to make your own Twst OC's before and after their Overblot then tag some fellow twst friends to make theirs as well!!

Tagging: @oyatochie @oya-oya-okay @boopshoops @sweetbunpura @kirexa @valy-gc @winterwriterstudios @hyp3rf1xat10ns @idiazhroud @masked-tornado @patchyegg87 @teapot-tyrant @unity-obj

And then Open Tags for whoever wants to try!!

In my au, Bella's Overblot is inspired by a few different characters, however the main elements for her outfit are Dire Crowley and Toothless while her attitude would match Drago Bludvist since all three of them triggered major life changing impacts, 2 negative and 1 positive. She also gets two set of wings (Night Fury and Raven) to mimic her mother Valka's dragon, Cloudjumper, while gaining some white horns to match Valka's Alpha Bewilderbeast. In the Overblot image she's doing the hand pose Crowley does when he pulls someone out of the coffins and I can totally hear her saying "Aren't I just sooo kind to lend you all a helping hand?" to mock the Bird man lol. The first one is ironically just her genuinely wanting to help someone out lmao. I love making parallels.

I can imagine her Overblot rampaging including her Bewilderbeast Abilities with her commanding all dragons nearby (including Malleus rip-) to capture NRC students so she can steal their magic to force the Mirror of Darkness to send her home, as well as to capture Crowley so she can kill destroy him for using her and lying about letting her go back to New Berk, while also using her Ice Breath to tear down the entire school. Her Phantom though, despite her Night Fury design and wings, would actually be The Bewilderbeast soul inside of her taking physical Blot-form so unlike the other Phantoms, this one is tied to her life in a very different way, keeping her soul(s?) protected while still draining her life force the more she uses it's powers. So destroying Bella's Phantom might have some very negative consequences...

>:)

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clubsoft · 1 month ago

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⠀ ⠀ 2D ⠀ ⠀ PREVIEW / SNIPPET ⠀ ⠀ JOEL MILLER / POC ! F ! OC⠀⠀

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now playing : oooh la la by janelle monáe

summary · joel miller , hearthrob turned silver fox , is ready to take a break from his life of fame && decides a penthouse in new york is the place to go , all to find himself bored until he stumbles into the building's charming bar ... && the cute performer is surely a plus . warnings · actor ! joel / age - gap ( oc is early 20's && joel is mid - 40s ) / size - diff / more warnings 2 come l8r :3 word count · 338 notes · i'm finally doing a fic w an oc so eeeeeek !! we need more diversity in fics in the pp fandom so this is my contribution to it :3 hope u enjoy my romantic actor joel miller :3 if u would like 2 be tagged , u can reply to this post or fill out the form next to the taglist !!

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“We got just about anythin’ you could think of. What’s your favorite song?”

For a question so simple, it takes Joel an awfully long time to think of an answer — he comes up blank. Lola’s mouse clicks, drags across the padded surface, the noise freeing him from his thoughts, letting him come up for air. “I don’t really listen to music, sugar,” he answers, feeling sheepish. “Don’t think I really care for it.”

“I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like music. You’re totally lying,” she challenges, folding her pretty set of hands atop the antique cherry wood counter, bracing herself to tilt in his direction. Joel’s eyes naturally flick down to maintain eye contact, and he tries to behave, he really does, but the glimpse of cleavage above her neckline holds him a beat too long — such delicate flesh… too delicate for the likes of an old man like himself. He blinks, his tongue peeks from the corner of his lips, a hand reaching to sift through the display of records near his hip, playing off the moment of weakness, his years of acting feeling especially useful. “S’there a story behind that?”

“Sure, I mean…” Joel sucks in a deep breath, shrugs his broad shoulders, running a fingertip along the edge of Lady in Satin by Billie Holiday. “My late wife loved music, and when she was around, my life was full of it — wasn’t a song she heard that she didn’t share with me. When she… left, it was quiet, and listenin’ to a song without her felt like a betrayal. S’been a long time… just still feels weird to hear a song and not have nobody to share it with.” He can’t meet her eye, his neck and jaw feel warm with embarrassment — grown man, spilling his feelings in the middle of a record shop, stealing minutes of youth from the sweet girl who listens far more graciously than he thinks he deserves. He opens his mouth to apologize, “Sorry—”

“You can share ‘em with me.”

⠀⠀ ⠀

lola desai —

joel miller —

⠀⠀ ⠀

taglist · @days1 / @luvrsluxe / @hopelessromantic727 / @zelena89 / @ithinkimokeei / @choania / @qtmoonies / @illyrianbrat if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my fics , pls click this link && fill out the form !! u will be added immediately && get a notif for my next fic !!

#so excited EEEEEEK #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x poc reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller au #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou au #idk what else to tag this

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bennyden · 1 year ago

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User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism.

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it.

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here.

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately.

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now.

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did.

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping.

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave.

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us.

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from.

Thanks for reading.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #reader fanfiction #prince aemond #plagiarism #android x reader #robot x reader #ao3 #aemond and reader smut

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antinousletmehit · 3 months ago

Note

HeyyyHow are you doing?

I totally haven’t been stalking you account for any new fanfics. NOPE

But the whole idea with antinous having a sister actually gave me inspiration for my epic au (oc or reader idk still thinking about it) and I have been thinking….

What if- and hear me out

After reader realised how weak? (Well certainly no as strong as her brother) she is, she started to learn on her own (this is before both of them going to the palace)

So she started copying his stance from the ring so she can fight, practiced of her own without her brother knowing somehow (maybe he left her alone because antinous doesn’t learn from his mistakes).

So during one of these endeavours perhaps Pandora got hurt? And didn’t know how to treat it properly? Or just enough so it wouldn’t kill her then went fo sleep all the while antinous not knowing. And maybe in the morning he saw she was a bit feverish and red as well as wheezing a bit then when he asks her why she didn’t tell him and then reader’s reply is like “I didn’t want to be a bother since I caused us a lot of trouble in the past” (as shown in their past with her stealing attempt and what not)

idk I love angst/hurt/comfort and what not (mostly angst)- idk if this is considered as a ramble or a request I just wanted someone to ramble to

(Sorry if this is confusing English is not my first language and I apologise for any spelling mistakes )

Have a lovely day, dear! 🌹

Hiii!! Dw your English was perfectly fine. Also it can be both Oc and reader, Aphrodites gamble used to be just my ocs backstory but then I wanted to turn it into a x reader that’s why sometimes you’ll see the name “pandora” in some fics.

AHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEAAA. Antinous is a jerk so he’d definitely not notice his sister getting hurt. The ring is supposed to be the reason as to why antinous ended up being shitty, and we can see in Aphrodites gamble he’s very protective of her due to the fact he feels bad about everything that happened before the palace life.

——

Blood welled from the cut, but she bit her lip and forced herself to her feet. “It’s just a scratch,” she muttered, refusing to cry. “Antinous doesn’t cry when he gets hurt.” Still, the ache in her arm throbbed, and by the time she made her way back to the small shack where she and her brother were staying, she was exhausted, chilled to the bone, and in pain. Antinous was already asleep, his arm draped over his face as he snored softly. She slid under her thin blanket, clutching her injured arm to her chest. “He doesn’t need to know,” she murmured to herself as her eyelids grew heavy. “It’s nothing.”

By morning, her body was burning.

Antinous woke to the sound of her faint groans, his brows furrowing as he rolled over to check on her. “Sister?” he called, shaking her shoulder gently. She stirred, her face flushed and covered in sweat. “I’m fine,” she croaked, though her voice was weak and shaky. Antinous narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “You don’t look fine.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted, trying to sit up, but the effort made her wince. That’s when he noticed it—the makeshift bandage wrapped awkwardly around her arm, stained with dried blood. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and unwrapped it, revealing the inflamed, swollen gash beneath.

“Y/N!” he barked, his voice a mix of anger and fear. “What the hell happened?”

She flinched at his tone, tears springing to her eyes. “I—I was just trying to train. Like you. I didn’t want to bother you…”

“You didn’t want to bother me?” Antinous repeated incredulously. “You’ve got a festering wound, and you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”

“It wasn’t that bad!” She argued weakly, though her voice wavered. “I thought I could handle it.” Antinous ran a hand through his hair, pacing the tiny room. “Handle it? you could’ve died! Do you even understand that? What if it got worse? What if I didn’t wake up in time?”

Tears streamed down her face now. “I just wanted to be strong like you! I didn’t want you to think I’m useless!”

Antinous froze, her words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He turned back to her, kneeling at her side. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion, “you’re not useless. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“But you’re always protecting me,” she whispered. “I wanted to protect myself�� and you.”

Antinous sighed, his anger melting into guilt as he gently cupped her feverish face. “You don’t have to protect me, Pandora. That’s my job. You’re my little sister. You’re supposed to let me take care of you.”

She sniffled, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, his fingers brushing her damp hair away from her face. “Don’t apologize. Just… don’t hide stuff like this from me again, alright? You’re all I’ve got, y/n. I can’t lose you.”

—-

Yea that’s the Drabble for today gang

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #antinous #antinous x reader #aphrodites gamble #epic antinous

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jaxdoesntcare · 1 month ago

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What's up, losers. You all probably already know who I am, so I'll spare ya the long-ahh spiel.

I managed to steal my computer back from Bibi, so that I can answer all the asks of my adoring fans~

So go ahead, show me what you got. Heh, I bet most of you are going to be total masochists, anyway.

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

[OOC] VERY IMPORTANT: This blog features drawn answers, yippee! So, with that in mind, PLEASE don't spam me if I don't answer right away!! I might be busy with college or even just have art block, so I can't get to every ask lickety split! I won't be answering them in order, and some asks take longer to strike inspiration in me than others. I want to all my answers to be as high quality as I can make them, and I can't do that at the speed of some other ask blogs. All I ask is for you to be patient with me, and we can all be friends here!

WARNING: Blog WILL contain blood, gore, guns, weaponry, and violent themes.

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

↓ (Please read before sending asks!) ↓

Hello, everyone! The name's Bibi, and I'm the mastermind behind this account. Kind of.

Anyway, I also have an ask blog for my persona, which you can find here — @squeakyangeltoy

Jax and Bibi are friends in my canon and neither of them really have crushes on each other due to being aroace

Here's a link to all my other headcanons for Jax that will affect my answers for him —

And here's some guidelines before you send in an ask:

This blog is intended to be for people 15 and up, and though I don't mind young people, please be mindful of the asks you're sending in (e.g. no sexual asks, asks that feature personal information)

If you'd like me to feature your persona or OC in an answer, make sure you have a photo of them posted somewhere accessible on your blog, and make sure they're not too insanely detailed. Otherwise the default character is the anon character:

This blog is SAFE FOR WORK, nsfw jokes are fine but Jax is just not a sexual character for me so I'm not answering anything featuring sexual asks

Don't get political, Jax is a fictional bunny rabbit he only thinks of carrot and causing mischief

Please don't send me donation asks, I have no money

Jax could be a little mean or sarcastic, that's just his character! My Jax is slightly kinder than canon (because I'm a pussy) but please don't be sad or offended if his answer isn't exactly what you wanted!

You may also send asks for Bibi but just be more careful with her because she is literally me lol so don't get weird

I'm ok with short rps through reblogs and such if you'd like to rp with Jax! I just don't do DM rps because that can get hairy very quickly.

I think that's all I have to say. Guidelines are subject to change but honestly just don't be a weirdo and you're good.

I take art requests on my main blog: @weregonnaneedabiggerboat but I can't get to everything so no promises.

Have fun, and don't forget to punch kiss Jax for me!

~ Bibi

#the amazing digital circus #tadc jax #tadc fanart #tadc #tadc oc #jax ask blog #ask jax #jax #jax fanart #jax tadc #jax the amazing digital circus #jax the rabbit #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc ask blog #the amazing digital circus ask blog #ask blog #rp blog

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kabutoden · 4 months ago

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i think these two are some of my top favorite fantrolls :) they're just so stupid cute. The boy with acne's name is Excell and the girl's name is Banana Junior 6000. She's the big, blocky CRT computer monitor you can see Excell riding around on in the first image--listen, people started making robot trolls oc, and hey robots can be ANY shape, even the shape of a banana junior from the old comic bloom county. I love that little guy :) so im stealing him for my fantroll. I DO WHAT I WANT!

More below cut.

Excell's been obsessed with hunting for ghosts for a long time, and he repairs ancient, manual troll technology to do so. The tunnels between the gold city and school are creepy, abandonded, and a perfect place to look. Recently a device he brought back gained sentience, and he's so proud that a ROBOT can develop an identity and personality--though a lot of his friends have pointed out that Banana Junior's behavior is suspiciously more like a troll then a robot. Excell, eager to accept the robot revolution, denies their observations because Banana Junior is literally his best friend and moirail!?! He is dating that computer. It's because he respects its PERSONHOOD.

Excell might seem a bit like a nerd stereotype that you might disrespect but he has complete confidence in his own identity and interests and is a really solid dude. Super talented, too. I think he's pretty awesome, actually. He's also genuinely a very good friend. I like how i built his personality, kinda like a fun blend of concepts around Aradia and Sollux.

He's unfortunately wrong about Banana Junior--that's totally a spirit made of electricity possessing his computer, and toying with him setting off his electronics when he goes ghost hunting. Junior finds playing with Excell way more interesting then look into their own identity, which they don't really remember--they don't want the confirmation that they really are dead.

Fortunately, Junnye is actually still alive, just comatose after going through an intense surgery, the electric energy of her mind astral-projecting from her body. One day, Excell will help her confront who she is and travel back to her body, and they'll continue to live happily as partners.

#homestuck #bugstuck #buggy trolls #gold rule #kabuto rambles #fantroll #goldblood

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chrystabelleblaumferge · 4 days ago

Note

It’s a small thing, but that the Valkyries armor is so form-fitting is… interesting to me. The fanart does this too, it’s kind of funny tbh. Just straight up doing what video games and male authors do when they have armors worn by women be way, way more sexualized, especially in medieval settings.

Like even Game of Thrones got this right with Brienne lol. Armor is armor, especially medieval armor. Mail, leather, plate armor… it’s historically designed for men, that’s true, but there’s no good reason to have it cling to the boobs like a dress when made for women. It’s a it’s meant to cover the entire chest and front, attractiveness be damned. Having the armor be so clearly gendered is… well, another brick in the wall, as it were.

You know this shit series is just a gift that keeps on giving now that you mention it. The more you dig deeper into it, the more it exposes its facade of women empowerment and only to superficially uphold the beliefs of rich women thinking activism = supporting the trendy thing on Twitter.

Now I'm not a diehard realism gal on fantasy setting armour since I still like creative liberties and expressions by artists to create creative things even if nonsensical at times. One of my favourite armour designs is Saber/Artoria Pendragon's battle dress from Fate/Stay Night. Although Saber/Artoria is not sexualised in her base design when compared to any female character in ACOTAR. But you're absolutely right. Why do the Valkyries need form fitting armour anyway? For a series with a fanbase that loves role-playing as woke feminists for brownie points, they're not any better than the average horndog making the 190327th bikini armour mod on Skyrim's Nexusmods trending page. Feyre wears "sweaters and leggings" like she's a 'totally original modded Skyrim OC do not steal' when she's in a medieval setting. Not to mention the myriad of sexy and skimpy clothes she wears for the sake of a man's sexual fetishes.

Is this the 'le strong and empowered feminist' protagonist that Booktok and their ilk keeps yapping about? She and the rest of the female cast aren't any better than the average Skyrim sex doll created by horny middle school boys to wank over. What's the damn difference?

This series is literally an ideal series for pickme girl representation than 'woke feminists vs teh patriarchy!!' if anything...

#anti sjm #anti booktok #anti sarah j maas #anti acotar #anti acotar fandom #anti rhysand #anti rhys stans #anti feyre #anti feysand

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hyunsuks-gf · 2 months ago

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WANT YOU

pairing. idol!hyunsuk x idol!oc

warnings. smut. studio sex. dom! hyunsuk. oral (f receiving). dirty talk.

──────────────────────────────

i just wanna hold you, wanna party...

...tell me, do you wanna feel my body?

──────────────────────────────

the knock on the door was so soft that hyunsuk could barely hear it over the music on his closed studio, causing him that confusion instantly as he wasn't actually waiting for someone. his members were at the dorm, at least most of them as he knew some were practicing on the dance room, but they wouldn't give up some practice to hang out, so he actually didn't knew who could it be. at least before thinking about her.

the knock was noticed once more as the room went quiet for confirmation and he stoop up to open the door, just to stay shocked were he was. she looked amazing. her long black hair wasn't there anymore, which only attracted more attention to her cat-like eyes and that cute natural blush that appeared as his intense gaze wouldn't stop analizing her. her hair was short, shoulder short, it was more of a blue dark than the black one she had. she was beautiful.

"hey." she chuckled, almost bringing him back to reality. "can i come in?"

"sure..." his voice still came out unsure, almost as if he couldn't get his mind straight.

her eyes stopped right on the computer illuminating the dark room, which now had the producing programs opened as well as the tracks he had worked on in the passed few weeks. she knew he would had planned staying on that studio for most of the night, probably even past late night hours, but she had to at least steal some of his time for her. just a little bit.

"too busy?" her eyes went back to the purple-black haired boy, which just stayed in place and couldn't look other way that wasn't her new look and how good she looked on that baggy fashion outfit.

she was definitely made for him.

"i was just finishing up." he denied with his head, even knowing she wouldn't catch up on that lie. she knew him too much. "something's up?" he walked over to his chair, sitting on it before closing his computer.

i mean, she could lie to him, but her eyes wouldn't, so it was worthless to even try. hyunsuk could see more than just her words and maybe that's why she decided to come up to him, especially on her situation. he could maybe understand her.

he would understand her.

"yea." she sighed, sitting on the couch aside as he came back to his original position on his chair, this time facing to her with undivided attention. "we just came back and we are already planning on the next one to put it out in a month, and my mind is all over the place with everything so i can't kind of seem to focus right now on what i have to do so..." she started yapping on the storm of thoughts that were going through her head, not even stopping to get a single one out in a right way.

"wait, wait." he stopped her in a chuckle, finding totally adorable the way she just wouldn't stop talking. "slowly, baby." he smiled reassuring he was listening, just to find her doe eyed stare at him back.

baby.

god, it was such a long time since he called her like that.

"i can't seem to get a rap right." she summarized in a sentence that came out like a soft murmur, sighing as she looked embarrassed at her fingers. "i've already wrote like fifteen raps and none is good enough."

yeah, he didn't believe that.

since they were trainees, akari was the best girl trainee at rapping, in every single way, from rap writing to the delivery to the pronunciation, even if she was a foreigner totally unaware of the korean language. her writing was something he totally looked up to every time her group did a comeback, so he definitely didn't believe her.

"show me." he asked, looking at how she stopped playing with the hem of her fingers, totally dumbfounded. "please"

she could totally say no, she could just say it was an exaggeration and she could just leave, but then there was her logical thinking. she was there for a reason, and that was that hyunsuk knew perfectly how to help her.

he'd know how to get it right. like every single time.

she opened her purse, putting out of it the USB pendrive she had prepared with anticipation before standing up and walking towards him, stopping right by his side to plug it onto the computer. the problem? she totally forgot what it was to be that close to choi hyunsuk. how could she forget the way it felt to have his gaze fixed on her? or how his strong perfume miced with his scent was good enough to make her melt? and she would definitely not talk about how bad she just wanted to kiss him right now.

and that's how she understood how difficult it was to plug a fucking pendrive.

"lemme-" he chuckled, taking the pendrive off her hands to help her plug it instead. he took the mouse and immediately started to open the archives, looking up to her after seeing a lot of files.

"uhm, yeah, here." she leaned, trying not to invade his personal space while looking for the archive, but it was definitely impossible.

he just could laugh at how cute it was the way she tried to keep space between them, specially knowing about their past and how they wouldn't even care about it. so why would they now, right? his hands immediately stopped at her hips, bringing her down to his lap in a spam of two seconds where she barely could understand what just happened.

"suk." she looked back at him with a flustered look and her warning tone, just to find his intense gaze signaling the computer in front of them.

"show me."

she was fucked.

her eyes went back to the device, opening the files with the most unreadable face she could make, feeling those fucking nerves appear in her stomach every second that passed by. her voice started to bust out of the speaker, totally embarrassing her enough to click pause and lower down the volume, playing it again just for him to evaluate it. it definitely wasn't as bad as she thought, but it didn't feel like fully her; there was something missing, and he could immediately say what. she played another version, biting her lower lip the second she realized it.

his right hand was on top of her lap, and his left one didn't even try to move away from her hips. fuck.

"why don't you try a change of flow here?" he leaned a little bit forward to replay the part he wanted to point out. "like that, you can give it more dynamics and make a contrast with the song." he explained shortly, at least before looking up to her eyes.

"yeah." she nodded dumbly, staring straight to his eyes.

yeah, she would definitely do that.

hyunsuk chuckled, knowing perfectly she wasn't paying that much attention anymore and was more distracted with the situation they were in than with whatever she had to be doing. and to be honest, there was nothing that satisfied him the most than knowing he still had that effect on her.

"what happened, baby? don't like it?" he tilted his head with a teasing tone, going back to that nickname she could feel her legs give up for.

"no, no, i just..." she tried to explain, looking back immediately to the computer. focus, akari. "i don't want to make you lose your time." she mumbled some weird excuse, trying to get off of his lap before even thinking of doing something else.

yeah, he was not allowing that.

"where d'you think you are going?" he pulled her down to his lap once again, this time closer to his body than before. "i'm going to help you." he stated, looking directly to her eyes.

"how?" her voice came out in a whisper, totally flustered about how close they suddenly were and how hot he looked right there.

she didn't even get how good he can look in long hair. and the purple strands he had now? she could just feel like pulling them while...

"you are just too stressed." he interrupted her thoughts, leaning directly to her neck in a bold move that just got her paralyzed, melting slowly under his breath and the wet trace of kisses he started to deposite right on those spots. "you are doing good, baby, too good..." a sigh escaped her mouth, closing her eyes as her body decided to give in with so much thought. "trust your skills, i know you can do well." he looked up to her while talking sweetly, leaning forward just enough to brush their lips slightly. "right?"

"mh." she nodded, totally flustered still, hypnotized enough to not think in anything else that wasn't crashing their lips together. "oppa..."

"mh?" he looked up to her again, feeling too engaged to how cute her lost expression looked.

"i..." she sighed, looking away a second before looking back at him. fuck it.

her lips crashed against his like she had been thinking about since she stepped on that studio, leading her hands to his face as her tongue intertwined with his, savoring their mouths as they hadn't in such a long time. hyunsuk couldn't help but chuckle at the feeling of their lips moving against each other, he just found her nervousness and the way she hesitated for every move so cute for him to resist not wanting to take control.

"let me help you..." his voice came out in a whisper panting as she couldn't stop kissing him not even a second. his right hand made it's way to her jaw, stopping her to pull her away in a possessive way. "let me help you relax, aka, i known you can." he looked up to her eyes, watching her nod in agreement almost immediately.

she didn't even have to think about it twice.

"please..."

and he didn't have to listen it twice either.

hyunsuk immediately kissed her without a second thought, pulling her up from his lap a millisecond to change her position, now her legs straddling it for a comfortable one. his right hand was now on her lower back, pulling her closer to his body as his lips slowed down a shivered path down to her neck, holding back that desire of marking every single inch of skin that was under his control. this was bad, both of them knew that, but they definitely couldn't stop once the logical thinking was out of hands and all they had was the heat of their bodies against each other.

"i missed having you like this." he panted before coming back to her lips, letting his fingers danced over the button of her shorts immediately. "all just for me." he inclined until their foreheads touched, brushing their lips together before pulling her up once again but this time sitting her down on his desk. the single idea of tasting her once again was enough to make him go insane. "up." he commanded, watching how she obeyed right away so he could pull her shorts down to the ground in a quick move.

god, wasn't she so beautiful?

"suk..." her legs closed immediately after, totalled shy about the sudden action that didn't happened since too long ago.

"no, no." his hands stopped her right away, opening them for his eyes to see. "open up, baby, i wanna taste..." he murmured, noticing the wet patch in her panties in an instant. "already so wet f'me, baby?" he chuckled, leaning to her thighs to start kissing them up.

"shit, please..." she whined out, impatient enough already to look down at him. the sight was magnificent. "suk..."

"i want to take my time." he mumbled, letting the wet kisses send those goosebumps along her skin, stealing a pout from her. "you are so beautiful, aki..." hyunsuk chuckled, leading his hands to retire her panties with such a slow pace he could even melt at the sight. his fingers lingered at the hem of her panties, pulling them down once he thought her asks and her cute whimpers were enough to make him impacient for her taste. "fuck..." he cursed at the look of her dripping cunt, making her mouth watered at the sight.

he didn't hesitate enough because the moment his tongue took a taste, he knew there was no going back. his wet muscle made it's way through her folds in a slow and long pace, taking his time to enjoy her taste and the trembling whimpers she was letting out thanks to him. she tasted so good that the memories immediately went back to his head, letting out a soft moan at simple thought of having her again. akari looked down with the flustered expression he had caused, gripping the desk with her left hand while letting her right one stop at his hair strands right away as her ideas came back in. his eyes went up once he noticed her grip, smirking as their eyes encountered each other before he leaned in once again.

a wet and hot kiss was left right on her clit while the eye contact was maintained, sending shivers through her spine in a second as a moan put of pleasure left her mouth. it felt so good she could just cry of neediness right there on his studio desk. hyunsuk closed his eyes as the hunger striked in, thirsty enough to take his job seriously right away. his hands guided her legs over his shoulders, making her gasp as he sinked in that addictive pussy.

"is that good, baby?" the tone of his voice didn't even matched the way his tongue was moving against her core. the whimpers and moans coming out of her mouth tried to be an answer at his question, making him chuckled while stopping his movements. "words, aki, i want to hear you."

"yes, suk, t-that's soo good." she gasped at the feeling of his tongue doing magic against her. "fuck, fuck." she whimpered as she closed her eyes strongly.

"c'mon, baby, let go." he whispered, caressing her right thigh with his fingers slowly, contrasting the rapid pace of his tongue. he could feel the way her breath itched, how her body tensed as her moans got even more desperate. the signals of her orgasm getting closer to hit her.

"shit, just like that, suk, right there..." she cried out, feeling the frustration of her close orgasm manifesting in tears. "yes, fuck!" she whimpered, pulling his hair to bring him even closer to her core.

her orgasm hit her with such a breathtaking punch, reaching it's climax as her fluids were left on the tip of his tongue, slurping every drop she could leave.

"mh..." he savored in a moan, enjoying the spams of her overstimulated clit before pulling out.

"oh, god..." she panted, closing her eyes the second she felt the rush of calmness going through her body.

hyunsuk couldn't help but chuckle, cleaning the rest of fluids left on his chin with his fingers, leading them to his mouth immediately to keep on tasting her. it was definitely his drug.

"now i just gave you the inspiration you needed, baby."

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hey! just a reminder english is not my first language and i'm new writing here! if you want to be on a taglist for this you just have to comment! tysm;)

taglist ! — @purrplegyuu ...

#choi hyunsuk #choi hyunsuk smut #choi hyunsuk imagines #treasure #yg treasure #treasure smut #treasure fluff #treasure imagines

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