#smutwcbb

[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 ❤️ click here for masterlist

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