Rereading😓

rereading😓

celibacy / paige bueckers x fem!reader PART OF THE $$$4U COLLECTION ‘ it’s been four months and two weeks and 36 hours and eight minutes since you been pleased ’

summary after finding out you ended your sexual arrangement with paige for work purposes, she takes it upon herself to show you how much she’s been missing you and how badly she’s been needing you. warnings paige is a hornball that can’t comprehend why you’d want to obtain from having sex, sexual content, packing, strap-on sex, strap-sucking, spitting, literal cum eating like… p is a freak. from lena i felt like bringing back some old pairings so this is p x that reporter i wrote about a minute ago ( in my main masterlist titled easy access ) this is nasty, i’m ovulating so there’s that.

Paige had been accustomed to the life that came with being a star athlete: wake up, practice, treatment, class, nap, lift, and if all of that was completed, the occasional media interview.

Today was one of those days.

Her practice jersey is damp against her body, the navy blue compression shirt underneath clinging to her arms as she answers question after question. Tournament seeding, last year, the draft next month. All of it is the same, just enough for her to know exactly what to say and when to say it.

She stands patiently, arms crossed over her chest as she waits for the next question. And then it comes.

“Paige, is there any advice you’ve given your teammates— specifically Sarah and Jana— about how to handle the tournament now that they’re in it?”

Paige freezes.

It’s your voice, she’s known it well enough to be able to point it out in a crowd full of all other reporters. A voice she’s heard so many times that it became burnt into her brain— every tone, every shift.

You dig your way through to the front, and when Paige sees you— like really sees you for the first time in months— it’s the first time all day that her demeanor shifted. She’s always loved your work attire and how you prided yourself in looking your best. But today you’ve dressed down and she still thinks you look perfect. Low rise washed denim, New Balance sneakers on your feet, and a white shirt with some writing on the left shoulder that she can’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, can you ask that again? I zoned out for a minute.” Paige clears her throat. The other reporters laugh but you stay focused, it your first media availability with Paige. You knew better than to crack, especially now. So you repeat the question, poised as ever and honestly Paige is a little shocked. She thought if anything you’d be just as off your game as she was. But you weren’t.

She stutters, and it’s so small that you almost miss it, but she answers anyways. “Just to embrace the moment. Pressure is a privilege, and they came here to preform on the biggest stage—” Her eyes bore into your own, blue like large pools of cerulean. The same eyes that once made you give up everything, toss away your morals, and submit to her. “— and we all got total confidence in them. Hopefully that translates to them having total confidence in themselves.”

You nod, thinking about how generic her answer was and how your boss would probably have something to say back at the office. It seemed like she always did, but that’s what came with being an intern, you’ve learned.

Media availability ends, and you are very glad that Paige was the last to be interviewed because you can’t wait to get away from her fucking gaze. You cut the recording on your phone, shoving it in the back pocket of your jeans, followed by sticking your notepad and pen in your purse.

You follow suit with everyone else, turning towards the practice facility’s exit doors to head back to the office. Until your stopped, a hand to your lower back that send a rush to your core.

You’re reminded of the first time. The way you danced against her at Ted’s her hand on your back, bending you over as you twerked her jeans, the feeling of the zipper against your ass. How she took you home, made your legs shake and your toes curl, just to become even more vulnerable with you in bed hours later. You learned a lot about Paige that night.

You learned even more about yourself.

That no matter what, as long as she was around you’d never be able to resist her.

It’s exactly why you turn towards face her right now, you hands cautiously gripping your purse and the other raking through your hair.

“Look who finally came to see me.” Paige’s nails rake along your skin, dangerously drawing you closer and closer to her.

You feel your knees getting weak already. She smells surprisingly good considering she just got out of practice, she looks even better. But you can’t. “Stop.” You groan, reaching back to brush her hand off.

“I’m just checkin’ on you, you good? It’s been a while.” Paige says, her voice sultry and a bit cheeky. She’s priding herself on the fact that she still has you like this.

“Paige, we’re not doing this here. I’m at work.” It reminds you of what you said the last time you had her. MSG in New York, another day you were supposed to be focused on work that ended up with Paige’s hand in your pants.

She nods, pretending to understand but the look on her face lets you know she’s thinking about anything but. “Okay, then come over later.”

The blonde had a way of making you go speechless every time you saw her, but right now you were literally at a loss for words. You made it clear when you cut her off— Paige was a distraction— so for her to stand here, so hellbent on getting you alone, in a way she once had you, was ridiculous.

You scoff, looking around at the now filing out hallway. You drag her off, fingers digging into the bicep that’s so fucking big you nearly are taken aback by it. “I’m not having sex with you, P. It’s done, you know that.”

“You’re tellin’ me whoever else you’re sleeping with makes it feel as good as me? Y’know that’s bullshit, ma.” She goes on, and you take a step back for your own sanity. A response bats around in your brain, you shouldn’t tell her the truth, she would get too confident. Too cocky. You didn’t need that.

It came out anyway, like word vomit. “I’m fucking celibate, Paige, there isn’t anyone else.” You grit through your teeth.

Paige’s eyes nearly glow and her mouth curls up into his God awful smirk that you’d want to slap off if she wasn’t so damn sexy. “You? You’re playin’.”

“I’m not. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.” You mutter, walking across the hallway to the elevators plans sweating as you do what you know best. Work.

Your night ends with a much needed bath, soaking in the hot tub to soothe yourself of all the stress piled up throughout the day.

And the tension that only Paige Bueckers could give you.

She was good, you had to give her that. And what made it worse was that it was effortless. Paige didn’t have to say too much, or even touch you. All she needed was one moment, one instance where your demeanor shifts and your strength cracks and all of a sudden you’re her’s again.

You couldn’t shake your mind of her even if you tried.

And it made your core fucking throb.

When you finally do exit the bath— legs a bit sore from the attention you had given yourself between your legs— you cater to yourself. Legs smooth, and body smelling of sweet vanilla cashmere. You throw on some cute pajamas, matching silk with a top that fits you loosely. The plan is to get in bed, until you hear a knock at the door.

You trail to the door, manicured feet padding against the hardwood.

And then you open it.

And there she is.

At first, it’s like your mind is playing tricks on you. Because it’s been forever, and no one in their right mind would show up to their old fuck buddy’s apartment at this hour. Paige seems to be the exception.

She wears these dark grey Essentials sweatpants, slightly dirty and scuffed on the hems. They sag just enough for you to see a small edge of her Nike Pro’s when she lifts her arm over her head and her fingers run through her hair. Her hoodie matches, and that makes your knees buckle. The dark fabric makes her skin and hair look even brighter.

“Why are you here?” You sigh before she even gets a chance to speak. Being mean about it seems to be the only way you can think of to get her out. It’s for your own sanity anyway. You’ve never been able to rid her off for as long as you and Paige have known each other.

Obviously, you don’t know Paige.

Because she finds that so fucking attractive.

Paige bites her lip, trailing her eyes to your shoulder where the strap of your shirt has fallen. “I’m still on this celibacy thing. Like, are you sure? And why the hell would you want to do that?”

You have to laugh, because it’s hysterical that your vow to stay away from sex had UConn’s star player unable to think straight.

“Paige, I—”

“Seriously, we’re not having sex anymore because of what? Did I do something wrong? Am not doin’ it right, you gotta tell me.” Paige is babbling, and it makes you so embarrassed that you tug her inside the apartment before your neighbors can hear about it.

It’s unfathomable to you. “I didn’t think it was that hard for you to find someone else to sleep with, Paige.”

“It’s not! But you cut me off, and the first time I see you again you’re talkin’ bout some celibate. So, naturally I’m curious.” Paige attempts to explain, hands moving freely in the air as she talks and you stare at them the entire time. Her knuckles slightly red from the cold, veins adorning the back of her hand, and her long ass fingers. It was a taunt. As soon as you made it clear that you weren’t going, here she was. Testing you.

You take a step back, as if the distance would give you a clear head. “You’re a distraction.”

“What?”

“A distraction.” You speak up. “I can’t do my job with you texting me and telling me all the ways you want me in bed. I literally couldn’t focus.” You explain, and now that it’s said out loud you feel ridiculous.

Paige Bueckers was so good at fucking you, that it made it hard for you to do your job.

The blonde lets out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms down on your counter and leaning against it.

“You happy now?” You respond, sighing loudly.

“Ma—”

“No.” You cut her off quick. This is exactly how it went last time. And this time you had half a mind to know better.

“Let me get you there, baby. No distractions this time, I swear.” She murmurs, voice low and almost strained— hours of practice for the tournament to blame. “No way you don’t want it, ma, just please.”

Paige is walking towards you now, hands reaching for your hips and you let her. You actually don’t even think about moving. You can smell her cologne, warm and woodsy, sticking to the fabric of her clothes. Her hands trail off you to the hem of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head.

Your eyes trail to the ground it falls on almost immediately, because Paige’s choice of a thin tank top and no bra leaves very little to your imagination.

“What do you want, ma?”

A whimper flies from your lips as her hand grips your chin, fixing you to look at her. Your hand grips her shirt for leverage, clinging to what’s left of your morals.

That’s when she knows she has you exactly where she wants you.

“Hmm? What do you want?” Paige repeats, dragging your hand down her abdomen until it rests at her sweatpants. And you feel it. Her sweats were baggy enough to conceal it, but as soon as you feel the length in your palm it’s clear that Paige was thinking about you the same way you were thinking about her in the bath. “You want it? ‘Cause y’know I’m always ready to give it to you.”

“I want it.” You whine, snaking a hand up to her neck, tugging her close to you.

Her breath fans your lips, a smile gracing her face that doesn’t even try to hide. “Yeah? Break this li’l streak you got goin on?” Her hand tugs your shirt strap lower down your arm, and the second it’s reached the furthest it could go you’re slotting your lips with hers.

She tastes like everything you’ve remembered her to be, minty but still sweet. Her lips are soft, vaseline smeared on them and transferring to your chin. You continue palming the strap through her sweats, and Paige groans like it’s an extension of herself.

“Want you.” You moan.

“I know. I got it, baby. I gotchu.”

Paige’s strap sits on your tongue as you greet it with tiny kitten licks. You should’ve known that Paige would’ve made your work for it after leaving her to dry for months. Which truly wasn’t your intention. Paige was attractive, women wanted her, and you expected her to get it elsewhere.

Obviously not.

Her back is flush to your couch, shirt hiked up to give you a view of her hardened nipples and perfect fucking abs. You grip the base, spit trailing down the length that you take into your mouth.

“Mhmm, put that fuckin’ mouth to work, baby. Lookin’ so sexy f’me.” She hums, pushing your still slightly damp hair out of your face.

You plant your hands to her thighs, taking the strap deeper just to prove that you can. A part of you thinks you enjoy showing out for Paige like this again, doing what she wanted when she wanted.

Her eyes flutter shut like she can feel your mouth, the warmth of your tongue running on the underside of her cock— and if she closes her eyes hard enough, she probably could. But the vibration is good enough.

“Four months. Four and a half fuckin’ months.” Paige says to herself between breaths.

You pull back to breathe, saliva connecting your lip to the tip. You’re completely mesmerized by her, you vulnerable she looks even when you’re the one on your knees with her cock in your mouth. You spit on it again, sucking it back into your mouth before taking the strap in again. You’re sure that Paige’s eyes roll into her head.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” She grunts, hips moving forward further towards you. “Gonna paint your face, I swear.”

Paige’s words send a throb to your cunt. You can almost picture it— her groans and slack jaw as she comes. You draw your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit that’s still covered by your pj’s. The stimulation makes you whine.

“That shit turns you on, ma? Just know you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Paige hums to herself. She decides to reach for your hair, tugging you up and off of her strap until you’re hovering over her.

Saliva dangles from your lip, and in her obvious lust, Paige sticks her tongue out. You’re left speechless. Paige was a freak, you knew that much, but she’s chasing after your fucking spit like she’s thirsty for it. Like she was dying in the desert and you were the only one to solve her thirst.

She almost slurps it up, the noise so vulgar that you moan in her face. Paige chases after your mouth, locking lips with you in a deep kiss. Your hips grind against the strap, paying no mind to the mess it’s going to create on your shorts.

“Need it inside me, P.” You plead.

“Celibate my fucking ass.” She groans against you, using her strength to push you to the other end of the couch. Her hands dig into your hips, clawing at your shorts so hard that you’re sure she’s going to rip them off of you.

You’ve never seen Paige like this, this needy, this horny. She dragged your mouth onto her cock with a fervor that was animalistic. Then now, her teeth nipping at your own lips so hard she might draw blood.

It’s hot.

It makes you upset that you held out on her for this long.

Paige’s hands slip to your shoulders, pushing the other strap down your arm and putting your tits on display for her. She breaks the kiss, lips trailing down your jaw, neck, and chest before finally reaching your nipple.

“Paige!” You moan, head thrown back in ecstasy as she pulls your shorts off next.

“No crotchless this time?” She jokes, making you think back to the last time she fucked you stupid. It gets her off, watching how desperate you are for her to make you come.

“I need you to fuck me,” You whine desperately, hand fisting a handful of Paige’s perfect blonde hair. “Please,” you beg. Your hips grind against the unbelievably long strap, almost as if they had a mind of their own.

“I like it when you beg.”

“I know.” You tug your black panties to the side. Paige smirks at how soaked you are, the way your slick drips through your folds. “Want your cock, P. Please.”

With your help in spreading your legs Paige is tapping the tip against you. The wetness of your pussy filling her ears like the sound of music. Your mouth falls agape at the sudden pressure. and she takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with her own spit. A fat glob falling on your tongue and you swallow it almost immediately.

“Tell me you want it again.”

You sob, body aching in need. “I want it, I want it, Paige.”

Without hesitation, the athlete thrusts forward, burying all eight inches balls deep inside you. It’s so foreign, months of being away from her to blame. A collective gasp escapes both of your mouths. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head while her mouth formed the perfect ‘O’. Paige eyes you like a piece of meat before connecting your lips again in a heated frenzy. Your back arched into Paige’s as she gripped your hips and began roughly pounding into your cunt.

“You hear her? Just screamin’ for this dick, baby.” Paige hums, her words sending a rush of more arousal out of you. A mixture of pleasure and ecstasy spread across your features as Paige established a fast and relentless pace. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.”

“Baby—”

She breaks the kiss. “Imma distraction, but you can’t get off without me. Can’t make this pussy cum the way I do.” The couch practically groans in protest, its durability tested as Paige’s grunts reverberated against your lips. The room filled with the intoxicating sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a sensual symphony that echoed off the walls.

You watch Paige tuck her shirt in her mouth, giving her a perfect view of not only where she digs you out, but your tits that bounce in her face.

She’s fucking the shit out of you. And that alone is enough to draw her close to that climax.

“Y-you— Paige, baby. You’re fuckin’ deep, fuckkkk!” Your eyes were tightly shut, face contorted in pure bliss as you cling to the blonde with every fiber of your being. Your legs wrapped around Paige’s thighs, ensuring that she couldn’t escape your embrace. “F-fuck! P!” You cry out.

“Fuck you stupid, yeah? Put yo’ ass to sleep. Make it feel so fucking good, huh?” She roughly pushed the fabric of your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped away, leaving you fully exposed. “Cover me in it, cum on me, ma.”

You want her closer, deeper, anything. So you wrap your arms around her neck, tugging the blonde so close that your forehead touches hers. She keeps thrusting, seemingly noticing that you needed more.

“I know you’re close.” You murmur, trying your hardest to keep your eyes focused on her. “Paige, oh my Goddddd—”

“Y—shit.” Paige’s legs tremble, and you notice the slight falter in her rhythm. “Fuck, you first.” She lets out a groan, followed by a chase of your lips. It’s soft, way softer than how she fucks you.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming— I’m gonna cum, baby.” You babble over and over, your resolve fleeting your body as your orgasm creeps up on you. Paige lets out a high pitched gasp, her face flushed with overwhelming pleasure.

She tried to hold back, to maintain her composure, but failed miserably. A moan of pure bliss escaped her lips as she thrusts once more, practically balls deep into you as she comes. You let out a moan yourself as you feel the warmth taking over your body.

Paige doesn’t pull out, only pulling back enough to swipe her fingers over the ring of come that you’ve left behind. She brings her fingertips to her mouth, riding them out your taste.

“You left me out to fucking dry for four damn months?” Paige asks, her breathing labored from the exertion. She brings her hand down to your cunt, clit completely swollen. Almost desperate. “Left me without this shit for too long, ma.” She mumbles around her hand yet again.

She’s cleaning you up with her fingers, every bit of your release finding her tongue in almost desperate sweeps. You whine at the sensitivity, but let her.

Because it’s Paige, and you can’t fucking resist.

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