#ns/fw ask | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettygirl-gabi · 9 days ago

Text

Ovulation Brain & Hotel Bans

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Warnings:Explicit sexual content (18+), Breeding kink (fantasy/roleplay context), Use of strap-on, Dirty talk, praise kink, light dominance, Slight exhibitionism (hotel noise complaint)

Summary: ovulation spirals into FaceTime thirst, hotel chaos, and strap-ons…

A/N: WEE ARE THE CHAMPIONS…..

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

It started at 9:47 AM. I was minding my business—well, trying to—wearing nothing but a faded UConn tee and the loose shorts Paige always said made my ass look “way too biteable to be worn outside.” I hadn’t even made it to the coffee machine when I opened a Snap from her.

“Morning, baby.”

She was glowing. Not just hot—glowing. In the Dallas sun, messy hair pushed back with one of my headbands, that little smirk painted across her lips like she knew exactly what kind of chaos she was about to cause.

And she did. She always did.

I bit my lip and stared at the screen. My brain, already fogged over with hormones and this soul-consuming ovulation madness, snapped. My uterus clenched like it knew. Like it was plotting a coup.

I hadn’t even replied when she texted:

“You ovulating yet?”

I hate her.

No—I love her. I adore her. I want her to ruin me.

“Yes. And I’m dying.”

The typing dots appeared. Then disappeared.

Then she FaceTimed.

I answered with a groan, already curling onto the couch, one hand under the blanket like it might suppress the throbbing between my legs.

“Let me see my pretty girl,” she said, voice a little raspy, all smug and soft and herself.

I flipped the camera to my face, and the look she gave me—slow, heated, teasing—sent a shiver straight to my core.

“Aw,” she cooed. “You got that baby fever again, don’t you?”

I buried my face in the pillow. “Paige.”

“I’m just asking. Is my girl needy?” she smirked, stretching her arms over her head. The tank top she was wearing lifted just enough to show a strip of toned stomach, her abs flexing, her strap faintly visible under her waistband.

“I hate you.”

“You’re literally drooling.”

I was.

“Babe,” I whined. “I swear to God. My brain is like—feral. I want to be filled, praised, pinned down, worshipped, destroyed, adored, bred—”

Her eyebrows lifted, amused. “You want to be bred?” she repeated slowly, like she was savoring the word.

“I know it makes no sense,” I groaned. “IVF is the only way we’d ever—ugh, whatever. But my brain doesn’t care. It’s in, like, cavewoman mode. I saw a baby on TikTok and nearly cried because her cheeks were chubby.”

Paige tilted her head. “Should I be worried you’re gonna go try and make a baby with someone else?”

My eyes narrowed. “You think anyone else could handle me like you?”

She laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

I whimpered again and rolled onto my back, holding the phone above me. “I want you to come back and ruin my life.”

“I’m in Dallas,” she said lightly, clearly enjoying this.

“Teleport.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What would you do if I was there right now?”

I bit my lip, grinding my thighs together uselessly. “I’d let you pin me to the wall. Take your strap and remind me who I belong to.”

“You belong to me.”

My breath hitched.

“You think that silicone’s gonna knock you up, huh?” she teased.

“Today? Yes. In my heart? Yes. In my uterus? Also yes.”

She laughed again, low and dangerous. “You’re so dumb when you ovulate.”

“I am, Paige, I really am. I swear my body is like, ‘Breed me! Breed me now!’ And I’m just sitting here with a heating pad and a vibe like it’s enough.”

She leaned closer to the screen. “That vibe better be set to my name.”

“You know it is.”

“You could wait until I get home,” she said, voice softer now. “Let me take care of you right. Praise you. Kiss you until you forget your name. Fill you up and keep you full.”

I whimpered again, hand slipping lower under the blanket.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“No.”

She grinned.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

My hips jerked.

“Paige, I swear, I’m—” I took a shaky breath. “I can’t focus. Everything smells too strong, everything’s too loud, and all I want is you.”

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” she said gently. “You just need your girl to come home and ruin your pretty little life.”

“Yes.”

“Destroy you.”

“Yes.”

“Worship you. Tell you how good you take it.”

I whined, hand moving faster.

“Tell you how perfect your body is. How you’re made for me.”

I nodded desperately.

“Let you ride me slow until you’re crying. And then fast until you’re stupid.”

My hips bucked.

“Keep you filled until your body forgets it’s silicone and believes it’s real.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Yeah. That’s it, baby,” she whispered. “Come for me. Just like that.”

I shattered, back arching, the sound I made embarrassingly needy and loud.

When I came down, Paige was watching me with the softest smile.

“You okay?” she asked.

“No,” I pouted. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. You know if I was there, you wouldn’t be able to walk for two days.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’d ruin you. Praise every inch of you. Tell you you’re mine until you can’t remember anything else.”

I sniffled. “I want that.”

“You’ll get it. Three more days, and I’m all yours.”

“You better bring the strap in your carry-on.”

“I was already packing it.”

I smiled, dazed and tired. “I love you.”

“I love you more. Ovulation brain and all.”

I was mid-bite of a chocolate croissant, wrapped in one of Paige’s hoodies and pacing our apartment like I hadn’t just been watching the same episode of New Girl on loop all week, when my phone buzzed.

P: Room 105. Don’t keep me waiting.

My heart stopped.

What the hell?

Me: What?

P: You heard me, baby. Come upstairs. Wore the red set you like.

Me: You’re in Connecticut?!

P: Get here. Now. And don’t wear panties.

I stared at the message. Then bolted.

Ten minutes later, I was racing down the hotel hallway barefoot in slides, hoodie barely zipped, heart pounding. I knocked twice on room 717—and the second it opened, Paige yanked me in, slammed the door, and pushed me against it.

“Surprise,” she whispered against my lips.

I didn’t get a chance to answer. She was on me instantly, kissing me so hard I gasped. Her hands slid under the hoodie, tugging it over my head and leaving me in just a thin tank and shorts. Her tongue licked into my mouth like she owned it.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back,” I breathed between kisses.

“Because I wanted this face,” she grinned, “and I wanted to hear how fast you’d moan once I got this inside you.”

I didn’t even see her pull it from the drawer, but there it was—her regular strap, already strapped to her hips, glistening with lube, thick and familiar and perfect.

She didn’t even wait to get us to the bed. She bent me over the footboard, yanked my shorts down, and slid inside me in one smooth, practiced motion.

“Paige—oh my God—”

“That’s it,” she groaned. “Missed that sound.”

I was already spiraling, loud and unfiltered, hips rocking back into her with abandon. She had her hand in my hair, her other gripping my hip like she could mold me into her shape. I didn’t care that the window was open, or that the headboard was rattling, or that I was practically screaming her name by round two.

Until there was a bang on the wall.

“Hey! Keep it down!”

We both froze.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, half-laughing, half-embarrassed.

She smirked. “You got us a noise complaint in under thirty minutes. Impressive.”

“Not my fault you fuck like you’re trying to rearrange my spine!”

Ten minutes later, there was an actual knock on the door. Hotel security.

“Ma’am, we’ve received multiple complaints—”

Paige had to answer the door with a pillow shoved down the front of her hoodie to hide the fact that she was still strapped in, while I buried myself under the comforter, biting a pillow to keep from laughing.

The guy looked so tired. “We’re gonna have to ask you both to leave.”

We burst out laughing the second we got in her car.

“Never letting me pick this hotel again,” she muttered, flicking the AC on.

“My bad,” I giggled. “Didn’t know you were gonna rail me like you were filming a porno.”

She reached over, resting her hand on my thigh. “Still worked up?”

I nodded, biting my lip.

She slid her hand higher.

“Paige—” I gasped.

Her fingers slipped under my shorts, two of them dipping inside with a curl that had me arching off the seat. She kept her left hand on the wheel, totally calm, while her right hand sent me into another frenzy.

“You’re soaked, baby.”

“You made me that way!”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then whispered, “Just wait till we get home.”

We barely made it through the front door.

Shoes off, hoodie discarded, and she had me on the couch before I could even ask where her suitcase was.

This time, she used the release strap. The one I hadn’t stopped thinking about. The one she knew would break me.

“You’re gonna take every round,” she whispered in my ear, “and then I’m gonna fill you.”

I nodded, breathless. “Please.”

And she did.

She took me on the couch, on the hallway floor, up against the bathroom sink, and finally—finally—back in our bed.

The strap moved in me so perfectly, her hips rolling deeper with every thrust, her voice a steady stream of praise and filth in my ear.

“You want it, huh?”

“Yes—yes—yes—”

“You wanna be bred? Even if it’s fake?”

“Don’t care. Feels real.”

Her mouth was at my ear, her hand on my throat, her strap pressing against that spot that made my whole body quake.

“Good,” she murmured. “Because I’m gonna fill you till you can’t take anymore.”

She slammed into me once, twice—

Click.

The warm, thick rush that followed made me cry out.

And she didn’t stop. Kept rocking into me slowly, letting it spill into me, murmuring sweet things while I trembled and sobbed into her neck.

“Be as loud as you want, baby. No hotel rules now.”

I must’ve blacked out, because I woke up wrapped around her with the strap still inside me. Her arms were around my waist, chin tucked against the top of my head.

“Mmmff,” I groaned, half-asleep.

She nuzzled the back of my neck, voice raspy and smug. “Morning, mama.”

I kicked back gently. “You’re so annoying.”

“You were the one drooling on the pillow while my strap stayed nice and cozy inside you all night.”

I blushed, covering my face. “Shut up.”

She laughed, low and smug. “You came so hard I thought you were gonna pass out.”

“I did.”

“You looked so cute,” she teased. “All dazed and fucked out, whispering ‘more’ like a prayer.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

I sighed dramatically, letting her press a sleepy kiss to my shoulder. “I do. Unfortunately.”

We lay there like that for a while. No rush. Her fingers gently traced along my hipbone, my thigh, the outline of where she was still inside me. The moment felt so… intimate. Raw in the softest way.

Eventually I rolled onto my back, dragging her with me. She kissed my nose, then my forehead, then each cheek.

“I’m sore,” I whispered.

“I know,” she said, beaming. “You should be.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You begged for it. Literally. Like ten times.”

I snorted. “I was ovulating. I had no agency.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re so hot when you take control.”

She smirked. “Say it again.”

“You’re hot when you take control.”

“Again.”

“Okay Daddy—”

She tackled me with kisses before I could finish the sentence, giggling and pinning my wrists above my head. I melted into it, into her. Her weight. Her warmth. Her stupid cocky grin and her messy hair and the way she looked at me like I was everything.

She gently pulled out, kissed my temple, and tugged the blanket higher around us.

“I’ll clean you up in a minute,” she whispered. “Just stay here.”

“Mmm.”

Her fingers brushed over my belly, soft. “Still feel full?”

I nodded.

“Good.”

“…Hey,” I murmured, breath catching.

“Yeah?”

“If we ever do the whole kid thing… I want it to be with you.”

Her face softened instantly. “It will be.”

“Even if it’s needles and tests and a million doctor appointments?”

“All of it,” she said. “Every second. As long as it’s you.”

I kissed her, slow and full of promise.

“And until then,” she added, brushing her lips against mine, “you get fake cum and strap-ons and too many orgasms.”

I laughed. “You’re so romantic.”

“I try.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!💚💙

-prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

716 notes · View notes