#paigebueckersfluff

[arlertwhore]

need more paige fics on here it’s criminal atp 💔🥲

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: paige invites her sneaky link to a team dinner, but she has an appetite for you.

warning(s): smut, dom paige, sub reader, more power play, pussy eating (p a munch), fingering, spit kink, mommy kink, nastiest public sex ever.

word count: 3.9k, if i read the estimate right.

author note: unedited - based off a request. ty sm for the love on my first post, it made me feel like writing this 🤍 I check every noti and read every comment!! enjoy, inbox open, yk yk. MINORS DNI

Paige wouldn't confess to it openly, but she knew her feelings for you had underwent a significant adjustment following your whole jersey stunt. She — nicknamed Paige Da Pimp by her teammates for her playboy attitude, was not the type to get smitten for girls, and especially not the ones she had just been hooking up with in a casual sense, but after photographing a memento of you in the jersey post-fuck to keep her sustained for her busy week away of back-to-back games, practices, training... etc, all that athlete jazz, she had come to the agonizing realization that it was the biggest mistake she had ever made. And if there was one thing to note about Paige, she HATED mistakes.

Although she hadn't seen it that way at the time, which was totally understandable since it was just a sexy photo, Paige knew she was acting brainless for what she did. You were cute, fucked well, really turned her on, and she liked you as a hook-up, but she knew better than to genuinely like people, girls, in a serious sense while committed to her career. It'd never work out, and it was something she was very forward about the first time you hooked up. Paige had taught you her many rules, making it clear that she was the one in control due to her media appearance. She expected the feelings aspect to be the other way around but had soon found herself blushing as her team teased her about you relentlessly for being her lock-screen and gawking at a TikTok of you, sharing your daily routine. Sure, Paige knew the lockscreen aspect might've been pushing it, perhaps another misstep, but it was faceless due to her penchant for privacy in your affair, and she used it motivationally for her jampacked week, not as a new means to stay fixated over you.

To the tall blonde, that pictured depicted the prettiest girl in the world wearing her jersey, a visual testament to the hard work and perseverance that had brought Paige to where she was.

So, the photo served as a reminder to keep pushing forward despite how difficult it got. Though Paige surely did like you, she was also very cognitively astute, and knew that whatever feelings she had unfortunately accumulated for you would automatically dismantle due to the demands and stress of her career. She might have panicked over her feelings if you guys had an upcoming visit, but since both of your schedules were full, it became a wait-it-out game where you had both been thinking of each other as you tended to your daily lives. Before her Tuesday game, Paige examined her lockscreen before tossing her phone and running onto court, kissing upwards of the arena, plausibly sending the kiss off into the sky, presuming it would fall wherever you were. The net had tried to decipher the action to no avail. You

were at work and witnessed the moment when it had occurred, so the kiss had been retrospectively received. The cycle repeated each day: you worked, studied on breaks, went to the gym late, then came home, and studied again. The sole reason you were able to remember Paige outside of all else was because you waitressed and they played her games on TV occasionally. It was cruel to think you had some good sex just a few days ago before being forced back to your life. Paige was your only escape and you both didn't have any time in the world to see each other. You couldn't shake the thoughts that with each missed day to spend, because you guys were casual, you were running out of time. Like she was going to leave and find somebody better and more convenient. It was mundane to say the least, but that all changed on Friday night. By the end of the week, Paige soon realized there'd been no point in hiding you from her team. Her fans, the media especially, sure, but you two weren't a secret amongst the knowledge of the team.

Some of them: KK, Azzi, Aubrey, and Ice had even spoken to you and met you three months back at the party, where you first met Paige. You were hammered out of your mind and ranted to them about how much you wanted Paige. They had all discussed how hilarious you were here-and-there after Paige gave you a chance. Paige herself had missed you greatly, so she figured it didn't matter if she invited you to a team dinner.

Her friends were inviting their friends too, and it wouldn't have looked weird if fans or the media noticed. So that's how you found yourself scrambling through your closet at 8 PM, clothes strewn around the room as you searched for your black dress, which was Paige's favorite color on you. You had hurried through your assignments on break at work and left early just to make it there, hating that Paige had sprung this on you randomly.

This is something one would need aforemention for; you had to be more perfect than usual. Hair, makeup, nails, dress, behavior—for crying out loud, you were representing Paige freakin' Bueckers, and that meant you couldn't be tardy or shabby in any aspect. You simply had to be PERFECT. You didn't wanna get replaced by someone more convenient for her, and you knew she had only made this gesture because she missed you: typical Paige wouldn't even consider bringing you to a team dinner, so you thought she was crazy for even offering, knowing this opportunity might not arise again if you didn't show tonight.

As you arrived, you could see the team and some other faces present at the grand table. Thankfully, you did look better than the guests, and even though you were aware, you were still incredibly nervous. Seeing Paige's face, giggling with a teammate sat across from her, was the only thing that kept your high-heeled cladden feet advancing, heart pounding senselessly in your chest. The fullness in the restaurant didn't make you feel better, and with all eyes on you, you felt they knew your secret. You were right: most of them did, and as you reached the grand table, the entire team glanced at you knowingly. The last time you saw them all was at the New Year's party three months ago, before the fact you acted on behalf of Paige. It was majorly awkward now, seeing them sober, knowing you had rambled to all of them, especially KK & Azzi, about how badly you wanted Paige. You being here proved Paige had made your dream come true.

"Get over here, weirdo," Paige called out, and at the sound of her voice, you chuckled, feeling the tension ease. After not touching her, tasting her, holding her—seeing her for what felt like years, you had yearned more than ever to kiss her, to do everything to her that you hadn't had the chance to do in the past week, but due to being in public, all you could do was hug like friends in-case others knew who she was and were recording. It was bumming. You engulfed her in a big hug, smaller arms wrapping around her toned body as you tenderly whispered, "Wanna kiss you so badly. Missed you so much, Peanut Butter."

Paige chuckled softly at your clever play on words, sighing, "I know, I know," as she caressed your upper back, cautious of moving any lower, "Thanks for gettin' it, angel."

You smiled, feigning contentment as you released Paige, mindful that your embrace couldn't linger for too long, lest it provoke any speculation. She kindly helped you remove your dress coat, like a gentleman, and allowed you to sit on the inner side of the booth, assuming her new spot on the outer beside you at your right. To your left was a girl whom KK had invited — she sat sorta close, but far enough at the perfect proximity for Paige, in one very swift movement, to place the coat upon your lap and rest her big hand onto your thigh behind the eyes of everybody else present.

The blonde leaned in, her breath warm against your ear and body pressed flush against yours as she rasped, "As long as they don't see, right?" hand inching up your thigh, her inflection, voice, and touch sending shivers down your spine as she stroked your inner thigh preciously. "Paige!" you growled quietly, "Get a grip—this is unlike you." Paige knew you were right. She was losing her marbles because she liked you so much and couldn't control herself for any longer after having to for an entire week. She needed to have you. It was a blooming sign of her ensuing limerence for you. And she just loved that look in your eye too, all high-strung and panicking at the mere touch of her fingers—it was intoxicating.

You screwed your eyes shut briefly as her middle finger pressed against your clit, lightly; barely moving, edging you. Exhaling deeply, you struggled to get your eyes open, forced to pretend nothing was happening as banter and conversation and laughter flowed around you.

Eventually, you knew you would have to join in, but right now, you were consumed by the sensation of Paige's touch. And when she jested, "Hey," lowly, the sound sent tons of slick oozing out of your wet pussy, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore. Her long, delicate finger teased your little clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout the entirety of your body as you struggled to remain still, quiet, and maintain your composure.

It almost set you off when Paige's foot began to play with yours as she admitted, "I couldn't stop thinking of you all week," in this way of raw carnality and blatant desire you hadn't ever witnessed Paige showcase. It was just pure fucking, usually. A fuck that you didn't have to act totally sexy for all-the-time since it was just a mutual thing. This, whatever Paige was doing tonight, was something very different. Her words — "About how I'd get to touch you, taste you, and how your body would look and how you'd sound. Fuck," she says in a low grunt resemblant of pain. "I can't wait for you again."

Paige stopped briefly, and you didn't know whether to be thankful or upset, groaning out in response. Paige tutted thrice. "You aren't gonna look at me when I'm talking to you?" she chided. "Be a good girl, angel, use your manners so I can give you what you want." You were utterly bewitched by her words. Her touch. Her voice. Her body against yours. Her aura. She was just so captivating. Today, she had foregone her glasses, leaving just her raw, intense eyes to pierce through you. Clad in her post-game attire—a sleek black Nike Tech outfit, her hair styled in the signature front braids and ponytail—you couldn't deny the magnetic pull she had on you. You found yourself afraid to look at her for too long, fearing that the sheer intensity of her presence would send you over the edge. She almost did. You were right. When you looked at her, she smirked at you, locking eyes with you in a gaze that was indescribable. The way she looked at you had changed. "Just like that," she cooed, "Keep your eyes on mommy just like that." You let out a small whine, squishing your legs together to unwaver what felt like a climax. You felt like you were going to explode. Leaning forward, you took a second to recollect yourself as Paige's fingers continued to service you. Around you, the conversation was flowing, and as the head of her team, Paige easily inserted herself into it by introducing you to everybody. "Guys, I want you to meet Y/N L/N, Y/N L/N, the team and friends." Used to celebrating excessively, they all clapped for you, and Paige tapped your side with her free hand, urging you to sit up and be polite. You waved to everyone, adorning a smile that had taken every morsel of energy within you to present. "Long time no see, huh?" KK instantly began, "Let's hope you don't drink too much tonight and spill any secrets about how much you want Paige." Laughter filled the air, including yours. Relaxing against the booth, you tilted your head back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as Paige's fingers began to intrude your entrance, their movements smooth and tantalizing, causing you to clench around them. "Don't gotta be lit to tell you, K," you giggled, diverting your attention to the conversation that had just begun, while also trying to ignore Paige's relentless fingers.

You just didn't know how she could do it so seamlessly -- her beautiful big blue eyes had managed to look utterly focused, absorbed in KK's story as if she hadn't been scissoring you open with purpose in each fervent stroke of her fingers into you. A contented grin was fixed on her face, seemingly listening to KK's recount of the first time she met you intently, but that was not the case whatsoever, and you two were the only ones aware. Paige rested her head upon your shoulder, her left arm hooking around your waist to grab her Shirley Temple, to take a sip.

She raised the glass, offering you a sip, and you disguised a moan in a hum when she began a come-hither motion against your g - spot, savoring the cold drink to assist in cooling down your rising body temperature. "You like that?" she asked, early not referring to the drink. Her tone was cunning, smirk suggesting she knew the effect she was having on you.

You managed a smile, maintaining your composure. "Mhm. I like it." you uttered, your voice resonating with an underlying force, each word carrying the weight of your struggle to sound controlled.

Thankfully, Azzi had interjected KK's story, prolonging it, and you anticipated that Azzi's sociable nature would keep you from speaking for a while longer. However, just as you expected the social buffer, a waiter approached for your order. Being a waiter yourself, you understood why she was there, and you blurted out, "Water," upon her arrival, eager for her to leave as quickly as possible. Fuck! you thought, That seemed bitchy. You resolved to tip her later to make up for it, but you couldn't have cared less in the moment. Your head was spinning; Paige's ring finger had begun to circle your clit precisely, at a steady pace, in a touch and speed you couldn't replicate no matter how hard you tried. Her middle finger had been gathering your wetness and smoothing it over your clit, intensifying the sensation, intensifying the situation.

"So then, besides this intro story, Y/N, why don't you tell us about yourself? You know, the real you?" Paige prodded, her tone laced with subtle encouragement, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she attempted to coax you into speaking. "U-uh," you stammered, clearing your throat, "studying at UConn." It's a line you're programmed to say regularly, especially at work when dumb college goons try to hit on you.

The prompt silence urged you to continue speaking, but you wanted to curl up and pretend to be asleep. Your hole clenched around nothing, and you tried to avoid looking at Paige, fearing you might cum on the spot like you nearly had earlier. Gathering your strength, you said, "I'm studying to become a nurse. I'm from the city just over, but I'm, uh, you know... just an average girl."

You, being at a dinner and getting finger-fucked wasn't just stuff average girls did.

Nothing was average about this dinner experience. Not even the amount of wetness you had accumulated, which had become so much that it began to trickle down your leg. To have the amount of need you were suppressing literally oozing out of you, you moan, an audible one, but mask it as a cough before raising Paige's drink to your lips, taking a sip, and then placing it down. You could hear Paige laugh hushedly from your side, relishing in the power dynamic. "My throat's so dry," you quickly add to compensate for the odd noise, hoping to divert attention away from your unintentional reaction. "Did the questionin' make you nervous?" KK teased yet again, her tone playful as she pointed out, "You're breaking a little sweat."

You wanted to jump for joy. Finally, you had an excuse to excuse yourself. "Oh no, am I?" you replied, trying to hide your relief. "Lemme go make sure my makeup's good, P."

Forced to stand before you could exit, Paige did, and as you rose to your feet, she made sure you saw the image of her fingers in her mouth, sucking your wetness off them.

This, combined with all you had just endured got you weak in the knees as you stood up and made your way out. The sensation of her touch lingered, leaving you feeling so worked up that you felt like you were going to implode.

You weren't even wearing any makeup. You rarely did outside of work. Inside of the bathroom, feeling rather empty, you briefly considered touching yourself but rendered that option pointless seeing as you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself how Paige did you. You also always failed to replicate it too. Instead, to cool down your body and thoughts, you resorted to flushing your face with cold water. By the time you finished, Paige had appeared in the doorframe behind you, nearly as tall as it was.

"You got sick, I had to take you home, here's your coat," she said, recounting the tale you'd explain for leaving early, flinging the coat at you with a brisk motion, one of an athlete.

You caught it, but urgency pulsed through you. If she wanted to test you, you would test her. High heels clacking as you strode over to the taller blonde, you pressed her against the bathroom door, your kiss fueled by an intense need. The taste of yourself on her tongue drove you crazy and you couldn't deny how intoxicating it was. Her knee was nestled between your legs, and she pulled back to rain kisses down your neck, her voice filled with fervor as she questioned, "Why the hell aren't you wearing panties, hm?" In a rush, but with purpose, you responded, "Can't you see I'm dressed exactly how you like, P? It's all part of the plan."

She picked you up, your body clinging to hers as she placed you on the counter of the sinks. You made out fervently, her strong body no longer pressed against the door, leaving you both vulnerable to potential intruders. This was dangerous, extremely so. Paige kept letting you take dominance, even if it wasn't as blatant as her own, and it was exhilarating. When you placed your legs upon the counter, high heels on, your tits dropping below your dress with your pussy on display, clenching and unclenching as you pleaded, "I want your mouth," Paige couldn't resist. As she dropped to her knees, she reasoned that she was already in too deep to back out. The vodka in her Shirley Temple convinced her it was fine too, and fuck, it felt beyond fine. Her eyes remained locked with yours as she began by licking your hole, teasing the tip of her tongue inside before traveling up to your clit, prodding at it expertly.

"You taste so good," Paige murmured against your clit, sucking it.

"How would all your good-girl Uni friends feel if they saw you like this, hm? Legs spread like the slut you are, begging for my mouth."

Paige was losing control. She was spiraling. You looked too slutty, too good, and the situation was too risky for her not to take a picture of this. Removing her phone from her pocket, she handed it to you, and you already knew what to do.

You eagerly begin a video recording of Paige devouring you, capturing every salacious moment with fervor. Her mouth and tongue work tirelessly, exploring every inch of your dripping sex, her fingers sliding effortlessly into you, curling and stroking in the harmony with her oral ministrations. You moan uncontrollably, your senses overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. As Paige's tongue dances over your clit and her fingers plunge deeper, you writhe and squirm on the counter, unable to contain the ecstasy building within you.

The sensations are overwhelming, driving you to the brink of madness as you teeter on the edge of blissful oblivion. "Film yourself," Paige murmurs against your pussy, and you obediently turn the camera toward your face and heaving chest. The lens captures your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, and the dazed look of ecstasy in your eyes as you surrender to the euphoria of Paige's mouth and fingers.

"M'gonna cum, baby," you whine, bucking your hips with a primal urgency against her face, desperate for release. "Yes, yes, please," you whimper, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pressure builds to an unbearable peak. "I need it, Paige, I need to cum." As the climax washes over you like a tidal wave, you cling to Paige's head, holding her against your pussy as your body convulses with the force of your release.

With a satisfied smile, Paige grabs a paper towel and tends to you, then looks up to the camera from her knees, tongue teasingly licking off the remnants of your arousal. You hastily rearrange your clothes, staying put on the counter as Paige rises from between your legs to place her lips against yours. Paige's lips kiss with tender urgency that feels like unspoken intimacy and connection. As her mouth melds with yours, you feel the lingering heat of desire between you guys. In that fleeting embrace, there's a sense of vulnerability and trust, as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the electrifying sensation of her lips against yours. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a silent reassurance that you're in this together, navigating the waves of need and indulgence as one.

But then again, you're recording, so the moment, while still undeniably sexy, lacks the sweetness of intimacy. Paige takes the phone from your hand, filming as she guides you off the counter by your hand, only to drop it suddenly, spinning you around and pressing you against the cool surface. With her lap pressed against your ass, she asserts control, her hand firmly guiding your hips as she captures the action in the mirror.

As you grind back against her, you breathe out softly, "We're defiling this place, P," your voice laden with desire.

She responds in kind, her voice husky with arousal. "You're right, angel. Come on." With a firm grip on your hair, she pulls you back up until you're tilting your head to meet her gaze. Without hesitation, she delivers a fast, open-mouthed kiss that feels less intimate this time, followed by a daring act of dominance. She spits into your mouth, and you swallow, the act captured on camera for all to see.

With a shared glance, you rearrange yourselves, a tacit acknowledgment passing between you as you hastily fix your appearance. The urgency to flee the restaurant is palpable, both of you acutely aware of the need to escape before anyone catches wind of the steamy encounter that just unfolded in plain sight.

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: sneaky links at the bar gettin their freak on

warning (s): smut, bathroom sex, pussy eating, fingering, nipple sucking, paige licking ur body bc she’s desperate

word count: 3.5k

author note: okay so this is based off a req nd it’s not edited as per usual. once i learn how to use this app guys i promise — but as of rn I’ll just put it out there this is the 5th part to the fics I’ve been writing for Paige nd “you” / reader! Pls remember to send me req and leave comments I love reading them omgosh so long okay byee enjoy minors dni!

After the events of last weekend, Paige's team was incredibly open and honest with her about their concerns. They no longer deemed your esteemed dynamic compatible with Paige's career after the state she'd been left in due to you supposedly ending things, only to have to her return to you, which had proved to them that it was becoming toxic.

They still liked you; they did, however, they just didn't think you and Paige sounded right anymore. They never made decisions for each other, just offered strong suggestions, and they had strongly suggested that Paige end things with you.

Post-fuck Tuesday night, as she freshened up in your shower and you did your nightly routine, readying for bed, you'd admitted to Paige that you had indeed severely overreacted, and you had said all, apologizing repeatedly, owning up to your mistake.

Knowing Paige greatly despised mistakes, you wondered how she could let you off with just a stern warning. It being her, even if Paige had loved you dearly, the way she conditioned herself for relationships in regards to her career made her capable of breaking up with you while she was using your own shower. It certainly wasn't because of her feelings; you'd even noticed a change in the way she looked at you now. While her words during sex were relatively sweet, her actions were different from the first time she had you with the strap.

You sensed things were returning to normal in your relationship's dynamics, but the external situation would be shifting due to her team's concerns about you. Despite Paige's explanations that they didn't hate you and were simply prioritizing the well-being of their friend and teammate, you were incredibly sore over the fact that because of this whole situation, you would have to be even more discreet about seeing Paige.

Meetings would have to be arranged differently because they could easily deduce you were together if she chose to take an Uber in the dead of night to 'somewhere' and returned showered with new clothes. This change in schedule meant she would be free during lunch breaks or other odd times of the day, while you'd be busy studying at the library and more.

Just as Paige made sure to work you around her schedule, you wanted to do the same, but she seemed to really want the compromise from you. It was like something had come over her recently, but she had become increasingly horny and pent-up with sexual need.

You had called her to devise a plan on how to meet in a manner that kept schedules intact. As you discussed different ideas, the thought of future intimacy made her increasingly aroused, and she had to break the call so when she called you back, you'd have her full attention. It was wild considering it was typically the other way around for you guys.

Nevertheless, on your own, you had come up with a brilliant plan: to attend the new club that had opened not to far on the cusp of town. It was the perfect spot where everybody would be to absorbed in their ownself and alchol to notice who was there and who was doing what.

"Are you trynna tell me you want your shi' tore up inna' club?" Paige retorted over a Facetime call once you launched your idea, the girl surprisingly close-minded, which she usually wasn't.

You knew she had most likely just been nervous about the publicity, but you hadassured her you wouldn't allow things to spiral out of control. Being as smart as you were, she trusted you. Plus, it was hard for her to disagree when you offered an ultimatum, shrugging, "Well, unless you wanna man-up and tell your team that—"

"It's cool." It's cool. Whatver. It's cool was how you solidified a promising Friday night plan. By the time Friday rolled around, 12 AM, when the club scene usually came alive, Paige had ordered the Uber to stop at your complex.

You felt like a prostitute as you waited for the car outside in a black bodycon dress and high heels (because Paige was tall enough to allow you to wear them), with your little purse containing all the products to fix your club girl makeup and hair.

You desperately wanted to take the edge off with some drinks, and once you entered the Uber, that's exactly what Paige had been doing. However, at your promise to ensure everything ran smoothly tonight, you weren't allowed to drink. This meant that once you'd arrived at the club, you definitley weren't on the same level as the blonde, who seemed prepared to have the time of her life.

And boy was she. With her arm around your nape, she held you close to her body as you entered the packed club, music booming, people dancing, and the DJ saying some wild, almost offensive, out-of-pocket stuff that only drunken people would appreciate.

"If you're here tonight sayin' 'fuck school' and you trynna 'fuck somebody', then say yeahh!"

"Yeahh!" The response was immeadiate and raucous, the students all reveling in the thrill of the moment, fueled by alchol. To your non surprise, Paige had participated in the call, always a party girl, and her big blue eyes, heavily accentuated by the strobe lights and the alcohol in her system had stayed fixed on you as she agreed, a big cunning smirk on her face, knowing you never appreciated jokes at the expense of education, something you took extremely seriously.

She shook you in her arm, "Loosen up, jelly," before relinquishing her arm and holding yours as she danced and belted out the song they played, "Under the Influence" by Chris Brown. You liked the song too, and as you sang, allowing the music to loosen you up, you closed your eyes and couldn't help but think of being at your house.

Sure, you had selected this location precisely, but you still hated that you had to all because Paige was succumbing to what her friends expected, and you were essentially obliged to follow suit.

So what if you guys were still fucking and you had majorly overreacted while Paige had underreacted? That was the beauty of relationships anyway. They were all deep thoughts to be having as Paige held your hips, big hands roaming your figure as you ground your body against hers subconciously, both of you moving in sync to the rhythm of the song.

The sensation of her firm grip and the subtle pressure of her hips against your ass had momentarily distracted you, igniting a sudden surge of arousal within you.

It was then you knew what would make your night better and assist in ending it quickly, sufficing each wish and thought you'd had moments ago. As you turned to meet her face, prepared to move in for a kiss, which had created a brief distance between you, your worst fear occured: a piping hot girl approached, seizing the opportunity presented by the momentary gap. "Are you guys dating?" she inquired, her voice cutting through the music. Even if you were, you wouldn't be allowed to disclose that to strangers. "Uhh... no, but—"

"Kay, then, thanks! I'm gonna borrow your date for a dance." Paige maintained the eye contact you had made with her, you, atonished at this randos behavior.

She leaned down into the girl's ear, loudly asking, "How old are you?" You didn't stick around to hear her response. You left, saying "fuck it" as you took a seat on a bar stool, ordering four straight vodka shots with no chaser and pounding them back as you tried to drown out the thoughts swirling in your mind.

You hated being jealous. A casual relationship meant you had no right to, which is why you had excused yourself before you blew up on the girl. Peeking over your shoulder briefly, you watched as she let Paige twirl her before forcing herself into Paige's arms, essentially claiming her for the dance. What sucked is that you could be that girl—the challenging one who'd just go dance with someone else as revenge—but you chose to sit your ass at the bar and drink away your feelings.

As much as you liked Paige, you had to admit to yourself that this ordeal was starting to take a great toll on your mind. You were here, allowing all of this just because she was afraid of her team knowing she was still seeing you.

In fact, Paige was always afraid of everybody knowing. You had spent so much time thinking and drinking at the bar that the song had changed finally, and you felt a hand intercept your waist. You were tipsy now, feeling more chatty and accepting of the presence, assuming it was another guy prepared to ask to get you something. But no—it was Paige, a lipstick kiss on her cheek.

If you were sober, you might flip, but tipsy, you just chuckled. "Enjoy your dance that much?" you teased as Paige sat at the bar with you. She performed the hand sign for 'meh,' disappointment evident on her face as she smiled, "She didn't wanna dance, I don't think." You put on a face of shock, exaggerating the expression for dramatic effect. "No way, Paige, really?" She shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "I was just bein' nice, you know?"

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "I'm glad we have a good Samaritan in the club." you joked. She patted her chest twice, owning the title, and then it fell silent. You faced forward on the stool as Paige turned to you, her expression contemplative.

"Y/N," she began, voice eager to chat. "Bueckers," you replied, mundanely.

She kissed her teeth. "Yeah, I thought I was trippin'. What's with that lil attitude you got?" she asked, referring to the last name basis you'd left her on. "I don't have an attit—"

"Then look at me when we're talking," she interrupted, gently tilting your chin to face her, in-turn, your stool. The stupid lipstick mark.

It's why you avoided looking at her face, not wanting jealously to overcome you. She looked more intoxicated than her words suggested. And if there was one thing about a tipsy Paige, she wasn't meant for public viewing.

With no hesitation, after tilting your chin, her hand trailed down to your thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, swiftly pushing it aside to reveal your black panties. "Paige!" you gasped, a mix of shock and arousal in your voice. "My gosh, cut it out." You hastily smoothed your dress back down as Paige grinned mischievously. "You mean... Bueckers?"

You rolled your eyes at her antics, feigning unamusement, but she simply continued. "Sorry," she apologized, taking your hand in hers and kissing the back of it, conjuring memories of the last time you hadn't forgiven her and what happened next.

She was trying to be sweet again, but in her own words, "I am... I just—" She kissed your hand again, trailing delicate kisses down your arm before she absentmindedly began to softly lick you.

"I want you sooo bad." She had this habit of playing footsies with you too sometimes—as she spoke, her foot teasingly nudged yours, and with her physical attention on your body from literally head to toe, it sometimes became hard to resist her advances.

She began moving in after what felt like an eternity of anticipation. She thought she had finally broken through your defenses, gotten you to loosen up. As she moved in for a kiss, her eyes closed and her tongue eagerly anticipating the feel of yours, you surprised her.

Practicing resistance, you swerved her kiss, meeting her ear cheek to cheek as you whispered, your breath hot against her skin, "I'm going to the bathroom." Before Paige could open her eyes, you had disappeared amongst the crowd in the club. She immediately turned to the bartender, who had been washing some glasses.

"Yo, where's y'all's bathroom at?" Her words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but she managed to recall every direction he gave her as she pushed through the club in search of you— in search of the bathroom. She couldn't wait to get her hands on you for teasing her like that.

In the club washroom, of course, it was not empty like the restaurant had been. There were girls around you of every emotion—crying, lit, and angry. If it weren't for your makeup, you'd be flushing your face with water, but since you couldn't, you just stared at yourself in the mirror before deciding to retouch your lip gloss. As you finished, smacking your lips together, the next instant saw you being hoisted by your waist into a stall, causing you to drop your favorite lip gloss on the floor of the dimly lit washroom.

"Woa—Paige! Wait, my lip gloss."

She silenced you with an aggressive kiss, pushing you up against the locked door of the stall. Luckily, she had picked the biggest stall, providing ample space for what was about to unfold. She sat you up on the counter for personal items, spreading your legs which were at perfect level with her torso. You felt so exposed—within seconds, she had pulled all your clothes off, leaving your body bare for her.

Without a second of further words, she took her phone and handed it to you. She was making this a new thing for her now—filming you in your sluttiest, rawest moments. But you succumbed each time, the thrill and rush and all the adrenaline in your veins exciting you.

Her finger slid into you with precision, the feel of her cold rings adding an extra layer of intensity to the experience. With each thrust, she skillfully worked her middle finger against your G-spot, sending your body into overdrive, causing you to stifle your moans with your bottom lip. She gazed up at you, her eyes dancing between yours and the camera, a playful glint shining in her gaze.

Her ability to shift from playful to serious with ease was captivating. After releasing a sweet chuckle into the lens, she seamlessly incorporated her tongue into the mix, expertly circling it against your clit. She felt incredibly soft against your clit, her tongue tracing every contour with mastery before she gently suckled on you, ripples of ecstasy pulsating throughout your being.

As her finger began its come-hither motion inside you, you couldn't help but whimper out her name, "Paige, oh shit," gripping her head closer to you in a desperate plea for more. She thrusted around inside you with a frantic pace, her tongue flat against your clit as she adeptly moved her head back and forth, creating a deliciously sloppy sensation that drove you wild with need.

It hadn't even been more than a minute, and yet you found yourself unraveling quietly, coming undone all over her face, the embarrassment of it all being recorded only mixing with the overwhelming pleasure to create an intoxicating whirlwind of sensations.

Paige continued her ministrations, oblivious to your climax until a minute later, when your cum began to ooze out of your pussy as it clenched and unclenched around her fingers, sensitive.

She stopped, gazing up at you with the lower half of her face glistening with your essence. "Already?" she cockily remarked, reaching for her phone to check the time, inevitably turning the camera to face you as she read it aloud.

It felt so exposing. Your legs were spread for her camera to capture, your bare body on full display as she announced, "51 seconds."

You covered your face, shaking your head, and Paige initially thought you were embarrassed. “No! That’s my time to beat? Nearly a minute?” you retorted sarcastically before hopping off the counter. “C’mere, Paige.” If it weren’t for the counter being in her line of sight, as tipsy as she was, she would’ve simply chucked her phone. You pressed her against the stall door as you kissed down her neck hungrily, undressing her simultaneously. Her hands roamed every curve of your body as you deftly worked to earn a moan from her, a signal you were on the right path to winning this competition.

As you finally managed to remove her top, you captured her nipple between your lips, sucking it with the most adorable doe eyes you could muster, eliciting a deep sigh from Paige, who nodded her head in approval, her expression a mix of pleasure and surrender.

With one hand delving into her pants, you teased her entrance with your fingers. “You must really like me, hm?” you purred, voice dripping with seduction as you dragged your finger upward toward her clit, only to move back downward towards her hole, teasingly denying her the contact she craved from both ends.

Paige shook her head. “Mm-mm,” she murmured softly, her breath catching as your fingers continued their tormentful tour of her dripping pussy. You chuckled. “No?” She was unbelievably wet — soaking, slick, and inviting.

The kind of wet where your fingers glided effortlessly, sliding through her slickness as everything felt impossibly soft. “Then I guess I’ll stop,”

Paige was too esteemed to beg you. Instead, she had tried to convince you, saying, “If you do, then you’ll lose.”

You hissed pretentiously.

“Good point,” you responded before dropping to your knees, an act of submission which never failed to entice Paige.

You delicately tugged down her blue jeans, smooching soft kisses along her legs as you whispered, “Mommy,” before gazing up at her, “I wanna taste you… so badly. Can I?” you pleaded, licking the outline of Paige’s pussy through her boxers. The girl drew a sharp inhale, chest heaving as if she was already on the verge of anticipating it.

“Fuck, baby, you can taste me,” Paige whispered, inflection showcasing the struggle she was having to find constraint within. “Thank you,” you murmured pliantly, gently taking off

Paige’s boxers to be met with the sight of her spectacular wet and pink pussy, possessing all the perfectest dimensions. “thank you, mommy,” you repeated once-more, appreciatively stuffing your face into her cunt, sucking a mouthful of her juices and her tiny clit into your mouth. “ahh shit, y/n,” paige bellowed, the blush across her cheeks prominizing as her brows furrowed in delight.

You kept your fingers busy, pumping two into her as you worked your mouth ravenously, eating her up. You were adamant you’d win the challenge since you spent time fucking yourself when Paige was away, whereas she would just satisfy herself with girls if she needed to and had admitted countless times that it was a rarity she ever touched herself.

You on the other hand had mastered the art of making yourself finish fast due to how short you were on time typically, so you weren’t intimidated whatsoever.

And you had good reason not to be. It’d been half-a-minute when she began to shudder, knees wobbling as she praised your tongue-work. “You eat it so well,” she murmured, rutting her hips against your face subconsciously and assisting in the speed at which your fingers plunged into her pussy, guiding them to encounter resistance with a teasing yet insistent touch. She gasped, body jolting.

“Right there!” she told you, her voice laced with urgency and desire. You complied, pressing your fingers against the resistant spot inside of her, causing her eyelids to flutter and mouth to hang agape as she praised, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” hand holding you into her cunt as she feathered your hair around, caressing you. “Please,don’t stop, ma,”

She clutched the bars for stability, and her breaths came in short, rapid bursts, betraying the intensity of her pleasure. She kept her eyes fixed on you, observing your every action below her, as you mercilessly devoured and fingered her cunt with so much contentment in your every move, finding joy in pleasing her.

You sucked on her clit with powerful suction, and your fingers felt like punches to her guts, but in a pleasing manner.

Her body tensed, muscles coiling with anticipation. A rush of heat flooded her senses, a fire consuming her body. Her breath hitched, becoming erratic as she teetered on the edge of release. With each thrust of your fingers and flick of your tongue, all it’d really took was you looking up at her to assess how near she was before Paige completely let loose, succumbing to the pleasure and subsequently cumming all over your face while delivering a string of curse words as her body convulsed.

You wasted absolutely no time, leaping back up onto your feet to grab her phone just so you could see the time: it read from the last timestamp you kept in your brain, just 45 seconds. "How bad's the damage?" Paige asked, trying to catch her breath.

With a wide grin, you replied, "Forty-five seconds," and her face showed marvel, the girl in utter shock.

You winning meant anything and everything, including power over Paige. That's how she always was whenever you guys had your little competitions (which she'd usually win) due to her competitive nature, and now it was your turn to be the winner.

"Oh, you're so fucked!" you exclaimed, reveling in your victory.

a/n: i love all the new paige fics on here sm!! what do you guys think about this part.. lmk, inbox me, message me, comment wtv i love all ❤️