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18+(She/her) Just someone that wants to get better at writing Kate Martin, Nika Muhl, and Paige Bueckers Wife

[catwrites9]

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[wecan-uh-uh-init]

tate once offhandedly admitting she never likes to bottom after her useless ex boys because they never cared about her experience but then asking to bottom for you for the first time months later after a hard week and you ruining her gently

+18 MDNI

word count: 5,1K

warnings: use of strap-on, mix of praise and humiliation kink, a bad attempt of writing top!reader

Tate collapsed against the hallway wall, the expensive cotton of her blouse snagging on a stray nail in the drywall. She didn't even notice. She just leaned there, her chest heaving in a rhythm that was less about breathing and more about trying to remember how to exist without a script.

She didn't just look tired; she looked eroded. The week had been a relentless centrifuge of press junkets, sixteen-hour recording sessions where the producer kept asking for 'more emotion' while draining her dry, and a legal battle over royalties that felt like fighting a ghost. By the time she stepped through the front door of our apartment, she didn't walk; she drifted, a ghost of the girl who usually vibrated with kinetic energy.

You caught her just as her knees buckled. You didn’t ask if she was ok, that’s a question for people who don't know the sound of a nervous system finally snapping.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, though she was leaning her entire weight into your chest, her fingers clawing into your shirt. "If you touch me, I’m going to start screaming and I don't think I'll ever stop."

"It's okay, you can scream if you need to," You murmured, bringing her closer in a hug that felt more like a containment field.

Tate let out a sound, half-sob, half-laugh, that vibrated against your collarbone. The tension in her was a physical thing, a coiled spring made of cortisol and exhaustion. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hazel eyes bloodshot, the pupils blown wide. The vulnerability there was raw, almost violent. She didn't want a bath, she didn't want tea, and she certainly didn't want to talk about her day. She wanted to be erased.

"I don't want to be the boss anymore," she rasped, her voice cracking. "I don't want to make a single fucking decision. I don't want to lead, or guide, or… handle it."

She looked up at you, and for the first time in the two years you'd been together, the power dynamic shifted. Usually, Tate was the storm, the one who pushed you against the wall, the one who dictated the pace and the position, fueled by a subconscious need to control every variable because her past partners had treated her like a prop in their own fantasies. She had spent years compensating for men who saw her as a trophy to be used, never bothering to ask where she liked to be touched or how hard she liked it. To survive them, she had learned to take the wheel, to dominate the space so she wouldn't be ignored.

But now, the mask didn't just slip; it disintegrated. She didn't want the wheel. She wanted to be stripped of every choice, every expectation, and every ounce of authority. She wanted to be owned.

The realization hit you like a physical blow. For two years, Tate had played the conqueror in the bedroom, a protective reflex forged in the fires of past relationships where she was nothing more than a curated object, a pretty thing for men to fuck without ever asking if she was breathing. To those ghosts of her past, her pleasure was an afterthought, a footnote in their own ego-trips. So, she had learned to lead, to command, and to dominate, ensuring her needs were met by simply taking them. But staring at her now, the hunger in her eyes wasn't for control; it was for the relief of losing it.

"You don't have to make a single choice," you said, your voice dropping an octave, becoming a command. "Not one."

The shift in the air was instantaneous. Tate shivered, a violent tremor that started in her shoulders and rippled down to her hips. She didn’t move; she waited, her breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches. The silence in the hallway became heavy, thick with the sudden scent of ozone and desperation.

"Strip," you commanded. "And get on our bed, quick."

The word wasn't a request; it was a tether, and Tate snapped toward it with a desperation that bordered on feral. She didn't even pause to unbutton the blouse that had been snagged on the wall; she ripped the fabric open, buttons scattering across the hardwood like tiny, plastic raindrops. She stepped out of her trousers with a clumsy urgency, her movements devoid of the polished grace the world knew. Here, in the dim light of the bedroom, she wasn't a pop star; she was a woman coming apart at the seams, begging for someone to sew her back together or tear her open further.

She scrambled down the hallway and onto the bed in your bedroom, her limbs tangling in the sheets, and collapsed face-down. Her hips, wide and plush, arched instinctively, creating a valley of soft, pale skin that practically glowed against the charcoal grey of the duvet. She buried her face in the pillow, a muffled moan escaping her as she waited, her entire body vibrating like a plucked string.

You didn't rush. You walked toward her with a slow, predatory deliberation, letting the silence stretch until the only sound was the ragged edge of her breathing.

The sight of her was a masterpiece of surrender. Tate, who commanded arenas of thousands, was now just a heap of shivering curves and desperation. Her back was a graceful slope leading down to the heavy, rounded swell of her ass, which pushed upward, practically begging for the weight of you to crush her into the mattress.

You didn't say a word, just stepped onto the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and crawled over her like a predator claiming its territory. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, a fever of stress and longing.

You reached down and gripped her hips, your fingers sinking into the plush, soft meat of her sides. Tate let out a sharp, jagged gasp, her fingers clawing into the duvet. She was shaking, her muscles twitching in anticipation of the first blow of pleasure to break the tension of her day.

"You're so fucking quiet now, aren't you?" you whispered, leaning down so your breath hot-cocked the shell of her ear. "Where's the girl who tells everyone what to do? Where's the boss?"

Tate let out a whimpering sound, a broken chord of a moan that vibrated through her entire frame. She didn't answer, she couldn't. She was too busy drowning in the sensation of your palms crushing her hips, pinning her into the fabric of the bed. The power shift was visceral; she wasn't just surrendering her day, she was surrendering her identity, stripping away the polished veneer of 'Tate McRae' until there was nothing left but skin and a desperate need to be handled.

"I… I don't know," she gasped, her voice muffled by the pillow, her words thick with a sudden, heavy lust. "I just… please… just take it."

You didn't give her a second to think. You shifted your weight, driving your knee into the mattress to hoist her hips even higher, exposing the deep, trembling divide of her backside. The sight was intoxicating, those heavy, rounded cheeks shivering with every jagged breath she took. You reached forward and slapped her right cheek, a sharp, stinging crack that echoed through the quiet room.

Tate screamed into the pillow, a raw, guttural sound that wasn't about pain, but about the sudden, violent erasure of her consciousness. The sting woke her up from the numbness of the day and slammed her directly into the present.

"You like that, don't you?" you murmured, your voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the mattress and into her chest. "The boss doesn't get to speak. She just takes it."

Suddenly, you slammed another palm across the other cheek, the sound like a gunshot in the sterile quiet of the room. Tate’s body bucked, her hips snapping upward in a violent, involuntary reflex. She wasn't just shaking now; she was vibrating, her skin flushing a deep, bruised crimson where your hand had landed. The contrast of her pale, plush skin against the dark duvet was obscene, a visual map of her surrender.

But as soon as the sting peaked, you softened. You didn't let the violence linger; instead, you smoothed your palms over the heat you'd just created, your fingers splaying wide to encompass the heavy, rounded curves of her ass. You massaged the sting away with slow, heavy circles, your touch turning from a strike to a caress. It was a rhythmic oscillation, the shock of the hit followed by the sanctuary of your touch, that kept her suspended in a state of breathless anticipation.

You kneel behind her, spreading her open before you like a prayer. Your movements aren't rushed; instead, you move with a heavy, grounding presence, your hands sliding from the flushed skin of her cheeks to the small of her back, pressing her down into the mattress with a slow, steady weight. It is a claim, a silent promise that you have her, that the world outside the bedroom door has ceased to exist, and the only thing that matters is the gravity of your body against hers.

You lean forward, your lips grazing the inside of her thigh, your voice a velvet thread in the silence. "Shhh. Just breathe, Tate. Just let it all go." You aren't demanding her submission now; you are cradling it, guiding her deeper into the void where she doesn't have to be a star, a brand, or a leader. "You are so wet, babygirl. I can see it. You're practically dripping for me."

Your hands, which had been instruments of sharp impact, now become anchors. You slide them under her belly, lifting her just enough to shift her position, your touch as light as a prayer but as firm as an oath. You aren't rushing toward the finish; you are savoring the way her body shudders under the gentlest pressure, the way her breath hitches not from fear, but from the sheer, overwhelming relief of being handled with a precision that knows exactly where she is most fragile.

You guide her with a low, humming murmur, your fingers tracing the delicate line of her spine with the patience of a cartographer mapping a new world. There is a deliberate slowness to it, a conscious decision to let the tension drain out of her muscles like water from a broken dam. You are the current now, pulling her deeper into the mattress, your weight a warm, heavy blanket that smothers the noise of the outside world until the only thing she can hear is the thrum of your heartbeat against her shoulder.

Suddenly, you shift, your hand sliding beneath her, hooking into the soft crease where her thigh meets her hip. You hoist her up, tilting her pelvis toward the ceiling, exposing the glistening, trembling heat of her center. She is drenched, a slick, honeyed invitation that smells of musk and absolute surrender.

"Look at you," you growl, your voice scraping against the silence. "The world thinks you're a fortress, but here you are… wide open and shaking."

Tate lets out a strangled sound, her fingers curling into the sheets, knuckles white. She isn't the pop star anymore; she’s just a collection of nerve endings and desperate hunger. The sight of her, chest pressed flat against the bed, her heavy, plush ass arched high and shimmering with a fine sheen of sweat, is a visual feast of vulnerability.

"I'm not a fortress," she whimpers, the words vibrating against the pillow. "I'm… I'm nothing. Just… please… fuck…"

"You want me to lick you, doll? Want me to taste how much of a mess you've made for me?"

The words were barely a whisper, but they hit Tate like a physical weight. She let out a sound that wasn't human, a high, thin wail of desperation that vibrated through the mattress. She didn't answer with words; she just shoved her hips backward, a blind, instinctive thrust that practically offered her center up to you on a silver platter.

You didn't make her wait. You dove forward, your tongue tracing a long, slow, wet line from her perineum and straight into the heat.

Tate shrieked, her body snapping like a whip. The sensation of your tongue meeting her slick, swollen center was a violent collision. You didn't just lick her; you devoured her, your tongue broad and insistent, swirling around her clit before diving deep into the honeyed depths. You could taste the desperation in her, a salty, musk-heavy flavor that tasted like a woman who had been holding her breath for a decade and finally found oxygen.

"Oh god… oh god," she sobbed, her voice muffled by the duvet, her hips beginning to buck in a frantic, uneven rhythm.

You didn't let up. You used your hands to spread those heavy, plush cheeks wider, pulling her open until she was completely exposed to the cool air and your searing heat. You focused on the sensitive skin of her clit, flicking your tongue against her with a precision that made her back arch so high she was practically hovering off the mattress.

"You're shaking so hard you're going to rattle the bed, Tate," you murmured, pulling back just enough to let her gasp for air, your voice a low, predatory rumble. "Do you like being my little mess? Do you like having nothing left to do but feel?"

Tate’s response was a broken, incoherent wail. She was no longer the polished image on a billboard; she was a heap of flushed skin and shivering nerves, her fingers gripping the duvet so hard she was practically ripping the fabric. Her ass was a vivid, pulsing crimson from the slaps, the heat radiating off her like a furnace.

"Yes… please… god, yes," she choked out, her voice sounding like it had been dragged through gravel.

You didn't give her the luxury of a pause. You shifted, sliding your body up until your chest was flushing against her arched back, your heartbeat drumming a frantic counterpoint to hers. You reached down, your fingers finding the slick, swollen entrance of her heat, but instead of sliding inside, you used your palm to press firmly against her clit, pinning her down while your other hand reached for the bedside drawer.

You pulled out a thick, silicone strap, the material cold and heavy, a stark contrast to the furnace of her skin. Usually, she was the one to bury you in the mattress by pounding on you like it had personally offended her, with you asking many times to do the same for her, so now was your chance.

"Hold still," you commanded, your voice a jagged edge.

The sound of the strap clicking into place was like a gavel hitting a sounding block. Tate whimpered, a sound of pure, unadulterated anticipation, her face still mashed into the pillow. She could hear the leather creaking, the weight of the toy settling against your hips. The shift in the room was electric; the air felt thick, saturated with the smell of her own arousal and the raw, musk-heavy scent of a woman who had been completely dismantled.

You didn't slide in immediately. You liked the way she was trembling, the way her heavy, plush ass was practically vibrating in the air, begging for the intrusion. You reached down, your fingers splaying across the flushed, crimson globes of her backside, and gave her one more sharp, ringing smack.

"You okay, honey?"

The question was a trick. It was a soft, velvet lure designed to make her think for a split second, and the moment she opened her mouth to answer, you slammed the head of the toy home.

Tate didn't just scream; she detonated. The impact was visceral, a heavy, sliding collision that drove her chest deep into the mattress and sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling from her pelvis to her fingertips. She let out a guttural, distorted sound, somewhere between a sob and a roar, as the thickness of the silicone stretched her open, filling the void she had been begging for with a relentless, uncompromising weight.

"Oh… fuck… oh god, fuck!" she wailed, her voice breaking into a raw, jagged rasp.

The impact hadn't just filled her; it had anchored her. For the first time in years, Tate wasn't the one navigating the storm, she was the shore, and you were the tide, crashing into her with a rhythmic, punishing force. You didn't give her a second to adjust. You gripped her hips with a bruising intensity, your knuckles digging into the soft, pale meat of her waist, and began to drive.

Each thrust was a heavy, sliding collision that echoed through the quiet room. The sound was wet, a visceral slap-squelch as the silicone slammed against her drenched heat and the plush, crimson-flushed globes of her ass. Tate was a chaotic mess beneath you, her legs splaying wide, her toes curling into the charcoal duvet as she fought for air.

"You’re taking it so well, Tate," you growled, your voice scraping like sandpaper. "None of the labels, none of the charts… just this. Just my weight breaking you."

You didn't just pump into her; you carved into her. You shifted your angle, driving the toy upward, hitting that sweet spot that made her vision blur. Tate’s response was a series of broken, rhythmic shrieks, her head tossing wildly against the pillow. She was no longer a person; she was a collection of spasms and slick, honeyed heat.

Suddenly, you pulled out almost entirely, leaving only the tip teasing the entrance of her swollen heat. The sudden void made her let out a strangled, desperate wail, her hips bucking instinctively to pull you back in.

"Tell me what's been bothering that pretty head of yours, what made my precious girl upset?"

The question was a cruelty, a sudden shift into softness that only served to make the hunger in her gut scream louder. Tate tried to speak, her voice a ruined thing, a ghost of the melody she sold to millions. "The… the producers… the lawyers… I just—"

You didn't let her finish the sentence. You slammed back into her with a force that rattled the headboard, the impact sounding like a wet thunderclap in the dim room. The toy buried itself deep, stretching her wide, the friction creating a searing heat that blurred the lines between pleasure and total annihilation.

"The lawyers aren't in this room, Tate," you growled, your voice a low, predatory vibration. "The producers can't hear you screaming. Right now, you don't belong to a label. You belong to me."

You shifted your grip, sliding your hands from her waist to the back of her neck, pressing her face harder into the pillow to stifle the noise, though you knew she wouldn't stop. You began a relentless, driving pace, the silicone toy sliding through her slickness with a rhythmic, visceral thwack against her plush, flushed cheeks. Every impact sent a shudder through her spine, her heavy ass undulating beneath you like a wave of raw, shivering heat.

"Please… please don't stop…" she whimpered, the words barely audible, her voice a ruined rasp of a thing.

You didn't stop. You ramped up the tempo, the friction between the silicone and her drenched walls creating a searing, sliding heat that felt like it was melting her from the inside out. You could feel her internal muscles clamping down around the toy, a rhythmic, involuntary pulsing that tried to pull you deeper even as you were already bottoming out.

"Look at you," you hissed, your voice thick with a possessive hunger. "The great Tate McRae, reduced to a shaking, dripping mess."

Suddenly, you shifted your weight, rolling her over with a forceful tug on her hips. The movement was jarring, leaving her breathless and blinking as she stared up at you, her hazel eyes clouded with a cocktail of lust and utter submission. She looked wrecked, hair splayed like a dark halo across the pillow, skin flushed a deep, bruised pink, her chest heaving.

You didn't give her time to recover. You grabbed her ankles and yanked her legs upward and backward, pinning her shoulders to the mattress and arching her pelvis toward you. This position left her completely exposed, her heavy, rounded ass pushed toward the ceiling, a glistening, trembling target of plush, crimson-stained skin.

"You're not done being a mess," you whispered, the sound of your voice a low vibration that seemed to echo in the hollow of her throat.

Tate let out a broken, stuttering moan, her fingers clawing at the mattress as her legs were pinned back. She was utterly open, her breathing a series of jagged, high-pitched hitches. The sight of her was intoxicating, the wide, plush curve of her hips framing the glistening, swollen center of her, and the heavy, rounded globes of her backside trembling with every pulse of her heart.

"You're so fucking open for me," you growled, the raw edge of your voice cutting through her haze.

You didn't slide back in. Not yet. Instead, you reached down and gripped the heavy, rounded globes of her ass, your fingers sinking deep into the plush, overheated skin. You squeezed with a bruising intensity, molding her flesh in your palms, feeling the way her internal muscles spasmed in a desperate attempt to find the friction she’d just been denied.

"I can feel your heart beating in your skin, Tate," you murmured, your voice a dark, velvet scrape. "Everything in you is screaming for it."

Tate’s head thrashed against the pillow, her hazel eyes rolled back so far only the whites were showing. She was beyond words, beyond the capacity to form a sentence. She was just a raw nerve, a collection of shivering curves and desperate, wet heat. Her heavy, plush ass was still vibrating under your grip, the skin there a deep, pulsing crimson from the earlier strikes, now slick with a fine sheen of sweat and lubricant.

"I… I can't… please…" she choked out, her voice a ruined, gravelly thing.

You didn't give her the relief of a slow entry. You shifted your weight, aligning the head of the toy with the slick, swollen entrance of her heat, and slammed home with a violent, singular force.

Tate’s entire body stiffened, her spine arching like a bow as a guttural, primal shriek ripped from her throat. The impact was tectonic, driving the toy deep into her, stretching her wide and filling her with a pressure that bordered on agony and absolute ecstasy. She wasn't just taking it; she was absorbing it, her internal walls clamping around the silicone with a rhythmic, desperate hunger.

"You’re so tight," you growled, the sound vibrating against her inner thigh as you leaned in. "Like you're trying to hold onto me so I can't leave."

Tate’s response was a broken, incoherent wail. Her legs, pinned back by your grip, shook with a violent intensity. Every time the toy slid deep, the friction against her G-spot sent a jolt through her that made her toes curl and her hips jerk upward, trying to meet the blow. The sound in the room had become a rhythmic, wet percussion, the slap of your pelvis against her plush, flushed cheeks and the squelch of the silicone sliding through her over-saturated heat.

She was hovering on the razor's edge, her consciousness narrowing down to a single, pulsing point of white-hot intensity. Her internal muscles were no longer just clamping; they were seizing, rhythmic spasms of surrender that tried to milk the toy out of her even as she begged for more. Her hazel eyes were blown wide, the pupils swallowing the iris, her chest heaving in short, frantic gasps that sounded like she was drowning in the air.

The tension in her body had reached a critical mass, a coiled spring of pleasure and pressure that was about to snap. Every nerve ending from her pinned shoulders to her shaking toes was screaming in a unified, desperate frequency. She was a storm surge, a tidal wave of slick, honeyed heat that had reached its peak and was now crashing violently against the shore of her own skin.

Suddenly, you shifted the angle, driving the toy in a sharp, rhythmic upward tilt that hammered directly into her most sensitive depths.

Tate’s voice didn't just break; it shattered. She let out a high, piercing scream that echoed off the bedroom walls, her body bucking against your grip like a landed fish. The pleasure was too much, a violent surge of electricity that short-circuited every thought in her head. Her internal muscles clamped down in a series of rhythmic, crushing contractions, milking the silicone with a desperate, involuntary strength.

"That's it, babygirl, let it go!" you roared, your voice raw and commanding.

You didn't slow down. As Tate spiraled into the first wave of her climax, you ramped up the speed, your hips becoming a blur of rhythmic, punishing motion. The slap-slap-slap of your pelvis against her plush, crimson-flushed ass became a frantic drumbeat, a visceral sound of ownership. Tate was no longer a person; she was a collection of shivering, wet surfaces, her body vibrating under you like a tuning fork.

"Look at me, Tate! Look at me while you break!" you commanded, releasing one of her legs to grip her chin, forcing her clouded gaze to meet yours.

Tate’s eyes were vacant, swimming in a sea of dopamine and raw, unfiltered lust. She looked like she had been dismantled and put back together wrong, her mouth hanging open, a thin silver thread of saliva bridging her lips. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken, wet whimper. She wasn't the girl on the posters anymore; she was just a shivering, open thing, her body a map of your ownership.

"My pretty girl…"

The command in your voice didn't just soften; it evaporated, replaced by a tenderness so sudden it felt like a physical warmth flooding the room. You released the grip on her chin, your hand sliding upward to cradle her cheek with a lightness that contradicted the violence of the last ten minutes. You leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead, your lips tasting the salt of her sweat and the purity of her exhaustion. The predator had vanished, leaving behind the only person in the world who truly knew how to hold the pieces of her together.

Your movements shifted from a rhythmic assault to a slow, grounding drift. You began to withdraw the toy with an agonizingly gentle deliberation, the silicone sliding out of her pulsing heat with a soft, wet sound. You wrapped your arms around her, cocooning her in the safety of your scent and your strength, turning her from a conquered territory back into a cherished partner.

You began to murmur into the crook of her neck, your voice no longer a command but a lullaby of whispered affirmations. "I've got you, Tate. I've got all of you," you breathed, your lips grazing the salt-slicked skin of her shoulder. You started to kiss away the remnants of her stress, your tongue tracing the lines where the tension had lived for years, replacing the fire of the climax with a cooling, liquid tenderness. You were the sanctuary now, the quiet after the storm, holding her as if she were made of the finest, most fragile porcelain.

Your hands, which had been instruments of bruising intensity, transitioned into a slow, rhythmic massage. You traced the curve of her spine with the tips of your fingers, your touch as light as a falling leaf, smoothing over the flushed, crimson skin of her backside. You began to hum a low, wordless tune, a vibration that resonated from your chest directly into hers, grounding her back into the physical world. You weren't just holding her; you were absorbing the last of her tremors, pulling the residual shakes from her muscles and folding them into your own steady heartbeat.

Tate let out a sound, not a moan, not a scream, but a long, shuddering exhale that seemed to empty her entire soul. She collapsed into you, her limbs turning to lead, her head resting heavily on your shoulder. The silence of the room returned, no longer heavy with tension, but saturated with the scent of sex, sweat, and the lingering musk of absolute surrender.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved. You just stayed there, locked in a tangle of limbs and dampened skin, the only sound the synchronization of two hearts slowing down from a frantic pace.

Tate’s breathing was still ragged, her chest hitching in small, involuntary aftershocks. She felt smaller in your arms now, the armor of her celebrity not just stripped, but incinerated. She shifted slightly, her skin sticking to the charcoal duvet with a wet, tacky sound, and she let out a soft, broken giggle that sounded like it had been pulled from the bottom of her lungs.

"You're a menace," she whispered, her voice a ruined, husky rasp. "A complete… fucking menace."

She didn't pull away. Instead, she arched her back slightly, pressing the flushed, sensitive heat of her backside deeper into your touch, as if she were trying to merge her skin with yours. The vulnerability was still there, but it had shifted; it was no longer the desperation of a woman drowning, but the quiet contentment of someone who had finally reached the shore.

Suddenly, she shifted, her movements heavy and sluggish, and rolled over in your arms. She looked up at you, her hazel eyes still hazy, the pupils wide and dark. She reached up, her fingers trembling as she traced the line of your jaw, her touch light and questioning.

"I feel like I've been disassembled," she murmured, her voice a low, gravelly hum. "Like you took every single piece of me apart and just… left them on the floor."

She didn't move to get up; she couldn't. Her muscles were humming with a residual electricity, a lingering afterglow that made her skin feel hyper-sensitive to the slightest brush of the air. She looked at you, and for a second, the pop star was entirely gone. There was no stage presence, no curated gaze. There was only a girl, wrecked and radiant, basking in the wreckage of her own surrender.

"Do it again," she whispered, the request barely a breath, her eyes dropping to your lips. "Not the… not the intensity. Just… touch me. Everywhere."

You shifted, your body sliding over hers like a slow-moving tide, your skin tacky and hot against hers. You started with her neck, your tongue tracing the frantic pulse point where her heart was still trying to remember how to beat in a normal rhythm. You could taste the salt, the musk, and the lingering scent of the silicone, all mixing into a cocktail of raw, unbridled passion. "As you wish boss,"

forgot to post this yesterday, oopsie

[baigepueckers]

Nika Mühl X Reader

Hate Me Harder

You still remember the exact second you decided to burn Nika Mühl’s entire world down.

1:47 a.m., third Red Bull, eyes bloodshot from rewatching the Notre Dame game on loop. She had danced through a triple team, hips loose, shoulders relaxed, and flicked that filthy behind the back, no look dime straight into Paige’s shooting pocket. The arena detonated. She turned to the jumbotron replay, bit her bottom lip and smirked like she knew exactly how fucking good she looked doing it.

You hated that smirk.


You hated the way it lived rent free in your head.


So you opened a blank doc and wrote the piece that made you public enemy number one in the state of Connecticut.

“Flash, flair, and four turnovers a game: Is Nika Mühl the luxury UConn can’t actually afford?”

You hit publish, closed your laptop, and pretended your hands weren’t shaking.

Two nights later. Seton Hall. Thirty point laugher.


You’re in the media room coiling your recorder cord when the side door slams so hard the championship photos rattle in their frames.

Nika storms in wearing her soaked jersey and shorts, number 10 clinging to every line of her body, collarbones glistening, hair dripping down her neck. The room clears like someone yelled bomb. Door clicks shut. Just you, her, and the low hum of the vending machine.

She stops two feet away. The air between you feels radioactive.

“Say it again,” she says, voice low enough to scrape bone. Accent thick, dangerous. “Say it to my face.”

You don’t step back. You never do.

“You played selfish in the second half,” you answer, steady. “Four of your five assists came off broken plays because you danced with the ball until the shot clock bled out. You wanted the highlight reel more than the win.”

Her jaw flexes. “We won by thirty one.”

“Tonight,” you say. “March is different.”

She steps closer. Heat rolls off her skin in waves. Coconut shampoo, sweat, adrenaline, something darker.

“You ever had ninety pounds riding your hip while you make a read in 0.8?” she asks. “Ever had to carry four other people and a whole fucking legacy while little girls like you wait in the stands for blood?”

“No,” you say. “That’s why I get to call it when you choke.”

Something feral flickers across her face.

“Keep my name out your mouth,” she whispers, so close her lips almost graze yours, “unless you want me to shut it for you.”

Your breath catches hard enough that she feels it. She hears it. Her pupils blow wide.

Then she’s gone, door banging behind her like a gunshot.

You stand there for a solid minute with your pulse pounding in your ears and hate burning so hot it feels like want.

Geno’s revenge is surgical…unlimited access for you, mandatory shadow for her. You’re stapled together for the rest of the season.

6 a.m. film sessions become foreplay

disguised as warfare.


She sits directly behind you now, legs stretched wide so her knees cage your chair. Every time you pause the tape she leans forward, chin on your shoulder, breath against your ear.

“Tell me again how I can’t make that pass,” she murmurs, first in Croatian…rough, rolling, filthy, then in English just to watch your skin prick.

Road trips are torture.


Back of the bus, rookies up front, you and her trapped in the same row for eight hours. Somewhere in Ohio she falls asleep on your shoulder, lips parted, one hand unconsciously curled around your wrist like she’s anchoring herself in dreams. You let her. You hate that you let her.

You learn things you never wanted to know.

She FaceTimes her little sister every single night, voice soft, laughing at her shitty jokes in rapid Croatian.


She ices her knees until they’re numb and pretends the limp isn’t there.


She saves the last strawberry Pop Tart for KK every morning and shoves it at her like it’s an annoyance.

You catch her once at 2 a.m. in the hotel lobby, phone tilted away, reading every article you’ve ever written. Thumb paused on the one where you called her “the most frustrating kind of beautiful.” She doesn’t look up when you walk past, but her ears go red.

South Carolina happens.

She forces everything. Eighteen shots, six turnovers, fouled out swinging at a ref’s call. Final score ugly. Locker room silent as a morgue.

You wait outside, back against cold cinderblock, hood up, freezing your ass off.

She’s last out, still in full uniform because changing would mean admitting the night was real. Eyes red, hair in a messy pony, bottom lip bitten raw.

She stops a foot away.

“You were right,” she says, voice shredded.

You open your mouth for something sharp and nothing comes.

“You’re still the best point guard I’ve ever watched,” you say instead, rough, honest. “Even when you play like absolute dogshit.”

Her inhale shakes. She looks at you like you just dragged her out of deep water.

Three days later the tension is a live wire.

Practice ran late. Arena empty, lights half down, echoing. You’re in the equipment room reaching for a fresh clipboard because someone (her) snapped yours in half this morning during film.

Door creaks behind you. You know it’s her before she speaks…the air shifts, gets heavier.

You both reach for the top shelf. Fingers collide. Electricity snaps up your arm.

Neither of you move.

The clipboard clatters to the floor.

She’s close enough that you see the faint white scar above her eyebrow, the one from Zagreb street ball. Close enough that her next exhale brushes your mouth.

“Tell me to stop,” she says, voice raw, dangerous.

You swallow. “Make me.”

She kisses you like she’s ending a year long argument with her tongue.

It’s messy, desperate, teeth clacking, her hands fisting your shirt so hard the seams scream. You shove her back against the metal shelves…basketballs avalanche around your feet and you don’t care. You bite her bottom lip hard…she groans into your mouth and the sound shoots straight to your clit.

Her knee slides between yours without permission. You grind down on instinct and feel how soaked you already are through thin leggings. She feels it too…her eyes go black.

“Fuck,” she hisses, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re drenched.”

“Shut up,” you pant, and kiss her again, slower, filthier, kissing into her mouth until she’s shaking.

Her hands slide under your hoodie, palms hot against your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your sports bra. You arch into her touch and she takes the invitation, shoving the fabric up, mouth closing over one nipple without warning. You choke on her name.

Keys rattle down the hall. Janitor.

She doesn’t stop. Just pulls back enough to growl, “Equipment closet. Back corner. Now.”

You’re there in four seconds flat.

Door barely shut before she has you pinned against it, mouth on your neck, teeth scraping that spot under your ear that makes your knees give. Your hands fist her ponytail…you yank hard. She moans, drops to her knees right there on the dirty floor like it’s a throne.

She drags your leggings and panties down in one motion, doesn’t bother with finesse. The first swipe of her tongue is broad and mean and perfect. Your head thunks back against the door.

“Jesus fuck…”

“Quiet,” she warns, then sucks your clit into her mouth like she’s trying to ruin you for anyone else.

You come embarrassingly fast, thighs clamped around her head, her name ripped out of you in a broken whisper. She doesn’t stop; just slides two fingers inside you while you’re still pulsing and curls them hard. The second orgasm hits before the first one finishes. You see white.

When you can breathe again she stands, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and kisses you slow so you taste yourself all over her tongue.

“Still hate me?” she asks, smirking like she already knows.

You tug her lip between your teeth until she hisses. “More than ever.”

She laughs, dark and thrilled, and you feel it in your spine.

After that it’s war with benefits and zero chill.

Hotel bathrooms on road trips…she fucks you against the sink, one hand over your mouth, the other three fingers deep while the team bangs on the door asking why you’re both late to film.

Back of the bus you ride her thigh in the dark, her teeth in your shoulder to keep quiet while the everyone argues about the playlist up front.

3 a.m. training room. She spreads you out on the padded table, eats you out slow and worshipful until you’re sobbing, then flips you over and takes you from behind with the fingers. Making you completely hers.

Every time she makes you say it.

“Tell me you wrote that article because you wanted me to notice you.”


“Tell me you got wet every time I glared at you in film.”


“Tell me you’re mine.”

You always fight her first. You always give in harder.

Final Four. You win it all.

Your season ending piece drops at midnight after the parade.

Last paragraph.

“I came to UConn ready to bury Nika Mühl.
She beat me to the grave, climbed inside me, and made it a home.”

You’re waiting outside the locker room when she finishes reading on her phone.

She doesn’t speak. Just walks straight to you, cups your face with both hands still smelling like championship net, and kisses you deep and filthy in front of cameras, teammates, Geno and the entire internet.

The gym loses its mind.

She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

“Say it,” she whispers, same words from the closet, rough with everything you’ve never said out loud.

You smile, slow, sharp, hers.

“I hate you.”

She kisses you again, bites your bottom lip, kisses into your mouth like a promise.

“Liar,” she breathes.

You don’t argue.

You never really did.

[mrsfudd]

omg can you do 22 for paige please

also i love ur work congrats on 800!!

Prompt 22- High sex drive

thanks bby

Paige is competitive in everything she does, how many points per game, how many 3s she can make in a row, and how many times she can make you cum in a single day.

You don't know what comes over her but sometimes, all she can do is fuck you, all she wants to do is fuck you.

It started as soon as you woke up. Her soft, pretty lips kissed down your sleepy body. Slipping down your lace panties. Paige gently kissed and teased your sensitive clit until you practically begged her to taste you. Her warm spit dripped down your cunt as she ate you for breakfast.

You had went out for lunch with your friend in the afternoon, Paige was struggling at home without you. You get a text from her

Paige: need you so bad rn

It was text with a 5 second video attached of Paige, desperately fingering herself while pathetically moaning your name, the cum around her fingers and hole caused you to ache, the pouty look on her face made you want nothing but to be in that bed with her. You couldn't finish lunch without that slutty little video replaying in your head.

You speed home, to find Paige naked in your bed, playing with herself to your photos. Without a second thought you strip and sit on top of her. Bumping your dripping cunts together until you both make a mess of your sheets.

It was around 10 pm now. You were cleaning up from cooking dinner. Paige had locked herself in the bedroom, unsure of what she was doing you walk in to her watching you and hers sex tape.

"Come here baby" Paige demands.

You crawl over to her. She watches you with pure lust.

She makes you watch as she puts her too long strap on.

"Ride me" She orders, "Let me watch you fall apart on me"

You hold on to Paige's shoulders for stability as you ride her member with all your energy, giving her a show she could never forget. Moaning her name and arching your back every time she lets off slaps to your ass.

The base of the strap grinding on Paige's clit every time you more made her start to thrust into, bruising your hips with her grip as she fucks your already wrecked pussy. Making you cum as she does.

Little did you know, you had at least 5 more orgasms wanting for you that night.

[bucketbueckers]

MUTT

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: decent bit of plot before literal filth. language, light weed usage, sub!azzi, freak asses being freak asses in public (just a lil tho), choking, oral, fingering, thigh riding, idk what else i should be tagging tbh

wc: 7.1k

synopsis: It wasn’t even Azzi’s draft night, yet she still managed to steal the show – and your attention. With nothing but time, you were counting down the hours until the end of the draft and the afterparty, wanting nothing more than to finally get your girlfriend alone.

notes: sorry im ovulating

If you had to be honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to make it through your draft night without combusting.

It started early in the morning. You were surrounded by your hair and makeup team in your hotel room, trying (and failing) to be patient as they meticulously styled you. Then, the FaceTime from your girlfriend came through and your heart all but fell out of your ass.

“Holy shit,” you remember saying, hardly able to take your eyes off your phone screen. Azzi was surrounded by her team, too, looking as beautiful as ever. She was in the process of getting her hair straightened and you were just able to see that glint of mischief in her eyes, the one that told you she knew exactly what she was doing to you and that she wasn’t planning on making it any easier for you. Her makeup was subtle, bringing out the contours of her face and the warm cocoa of her eyes, and if the two of you weren’t separated by a few hotel doors and a phone screen, you’re sure you’d be down on your knees to propose. Or something entirely different. “Azzi, you look – holy shit.”

Her warm laugh echoes through the speakers, sounding far too pleased with herself. Taking her in, you silently went through today’s itinerary. You had hair and makeup for another half hour, then Brittany – Azzi and Paige’s stylist, whom you’d hired for the draft since both of your teammates swore by her – would be by with your outfit. You might have a little time before you are supposed to head out for the orange carpet. You wondered if you’d be able to convince Azzi to sneak away with you, but the amusement reflected in her expression told you that she was fully intending to make you squirm tonight.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this speechless,” Azzi says to you, the tease in her tone betraying the faux concern on her face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you say without hesitation. “You’re – Jesus Christ.” You reach up to rub a palm across your jaw in disbelief but your makeup artist swats your hand away, muttering about concealer, and Azzi’s tinkling laughter makes you feel just a little more unhinged – although you wonder if you’ve ever truly had hinges in the first place when it came to Azzi.

“You haven’t even seen my dress yet,” she reminds you.

You try to keep your increasingly inappropriate thoughts at bay, swallowing thickly. “When can I see it?” you ask, shifting slightly in your chair.

Then Azzi’s grinning at you, mischievous and evil and beautiful all at once. “Soon,” she promises, and she hangs up on you.

If you weren’t already keyed up by that point, then you’re sure you are when Brittany finally arrives with your outfit in hand. You’re wearing a custom, sleek, midnight blue Louis Vuitton pantsuit, so dark that it’s nearly black, with silver accents and embellishments reminiscent of stars. Your slacks hang low on your hips to barely reveal the waistband of your boxers – something Azzi had “innocently” suggested you do when you revealed you were interested in wearing a pantsuit for the draft, so you’re sure it’s more for her than it is for you. Your vest has a subtle crop, ending just a few inches above your belly button, and the matching blazer is snug. You’re adorned in jewelry to match the accents on your pantsuit – rings, layered necklaces, and the piercings you usually forgo when you’re on the court. God bless Brittany Hampton is what you think to yourself, and then your phone buzzes on the desk.

You glance at it. You almost collapse. It’s a selfie from Azzi, but it’s just from the chest up. She’s glowing, her dress a dark black and doing very little to cover much. You haven’t seen the whole thing but you’re sure you’ll die if you do. She texts you before you can even think about formulating a response, simply reading See you soon! with the black heart emoji.

When you’re ushered out of the hotel room to get into the van to go to the draft, you swear you see a glimpse of Azzi, but the door closes before your brain can catch up with you. You fumble with your phone to text her. You’re still on Delivered by the time you make it to the venue and all you can think about is finding your tease of a girlfriend.

You pose for pictures. Smile politely for reporters who ask you the same question in different ways. You sign a jersey or two and throw up peace signs for fan photos until you’re led inside towards the orange carpet. More photos – you adjust your poses, making sure to flaunt the clutch at your side for sponsorship purposes. The camera flashes are almost numbing but you just remind yourself you have to make it through a few more hours until you get to sit at the table and listen to your name be called.

Then, from the corner of your eye as you’re sitting through the interview with Hannah and Rickea, you finally spot Azzi, and you’re sure your heart starts beating all together. Your jaw hits the floor, which probably ruins the whole private, not a secret thing you have going on, because holy fucking shit. Her hair is straightened, cascading down her chest beautifully, her make-up done to the nines, but her fucking dress? It’s backless, swooping layers at the front with a plunging neckline, and the skirt is transparent, revealing her long, toned legs. She catches your eye from across the room, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk, and Rickea nudges you gently with an amused smile to remind you that you’re still very much on camera, live.

“What are you looking at?” Hannah asks, none the wiser, and you clear your throat.

“Sorry,” you say smoothly, adjusting the lapels of your blazer. “I just saw someone puke in a plant.”

Rickea snorts, hiding her face in her free hand, and Hannah perks up again. “Azzi Fudd is here!” she announces, turning back to the camera. “Here to support her teammates, I’m sure. UConn has four seniors ready to hear their name called.”

You smile knowingly as Hannah ushers Azzi into frame. She smiles at you, the meaning of it not lost on you as she slides up next to you. You throw a platonic arm over her shoulder, your fingers tightening on her shoulder – not hard enough to hurt or to bruise, but just enough to let Azzi know that as soon as the draft and the afterparty wraps up, she’s yours. You catch the way her smile sharpens as she glances at you out of the corner of her eye. 

You barely make it through the rest of the interview in one piece, distracted by the floral scent of her perfume and the rich, smoothness of her voice. The both of you are dragged back onto the orange carpet for photos together. You know you’re being obvious, but you really don’t care. You take photos with the rest of the team – Paige, KK, Ice, Nika, and countless others, before you and the other three seniors are drawn away for more media.

Eventually, you make it back to your table, finding Azzi waiting for you. You knew that having Azzi at your table meant something. She was seated next to your parents and your younger sibling, smiling as they talked, and you were very aware of the fact that you could have had anyone else at the table with you. Paige had dibs on Coach, but you knew CD wouldn’t have hesitated if you asked. Or Jamelle. But Azzi? Your girlfriend-but-not-quite-publically-official girlfriend? That means something.

You tap your younger sister on the shoulder, immediately raising a brow at her. “Move,” you tell her, wanting to sit next to Azzi.

“Bruh,” she says, but she scoots one chair over and you happily take a seat next to your girlfriend.

“You’re so mean to her,” Azzi murmurs jokingly, her hand brushing against your thigh momentarily before retracting innocently.

“Me?” you echo, a disbelieving gasp building in your throat as you lower your voice so the rest of your family can’t hear your conversation. “You’ve been teasing me all day. The FaceTime, the picture–” you pinch the fabric of her dress in between your index finger and thumb, “–this fucking dress?”

Azzi smiles, swatting your hand away, but she can’t do much to deter your gaze. “Behave,” she whispers, motioning subtly to the cameras that are most definitely picking up on how wrecked your expression is.

You exhale, leaning back in your chair, having to fight all of your baser instincts to keep your eyes off of Azzi before you drag her off to a bathroom somewhere. You could make it through a few more hours. You just had to wait to hear your name called, then you’d be distracted by media, then you’d be back in time to hear Kaitlyn and Aubrey’s names called, too, because they would be getting drafted, too, damn it, and then you’d have to make it through a socially appropriate amount of the afterparty before you could take your girlfriend back to the hotel. The way she’s looking at you – she knows just how much you’re struggling, but she’s intent on breaking you down and making you work for it. You wouldn’t expect anything less from Azzi Fudd, but you know that she’s not the one in charge tonight.

It takes a while, but the draft starts. You and Azzi are on your feet, clapping and cheering when Paige is drafted first overall – as if anyone had any doubts. You clap for Dominique to the Storm, then Sonia and Kiki to the Mystics, and then the Valkyries are on the clock. You’d been projected to go top ten, most likely to the Sun or the Sky, which is why you’re not prepared to hear your name called fifth overall to the Valkyries.

You blink, almost confused, the cheer of the crowd nearly deafening. Someone at your table is yelling at you to get up – probably your sister – so you push yourself to your feet, your chest relaxing with relief and gratitude. Your parents are rising, and your sister is jumping up and down, but the only person you stare at is Azzi, whose eyes shine a little brighter as she stands, too. You hug her first. You know what the headlines will say, but you can’t find it within yourself, especially not when she tells you that she loves you. Heart in your throat, you hug your parents. You do your handshake with your little sister, grinning all the while, and then you make your way up the stairs to pose with the Valkyries jersey.

The subsequent media is a blur. You don’t think you’ve ever taken so many pictures before in your life. You get your hat. You speak with Natalie Nakase on the phone and you tell her you’re ready to get to work. You’re out for the remnants of the second round, settling back into your seat, returning Azzi’s proud smile as she squeezes your hand.

And when Kaitlyn is drafted 30th overall to the Valkyries, you’re sure that your entire world implodes. You’re the loudest one in the room, you’re sure, and when the room explodes for the fourth time that night when Aubrey’s drafted to the Lynx, you couldn’t be any prouder of your teammates. 

Part of you doesn’t even want to go to the afterparty, still thinking about getting Azzi alone to celebrate with her, but your teammates – granted, you and Kaitlyn are Golden State Valkyries right now, but your girls will always be your teammates – don’t let you get too far away. You leave your blazer with your younger sister. As if you weren’t running on need and pure want and desire, Azzi’s outfit change is almost enough for you to drop to your knees right then and there.

Somehow, you manage to keep it together, but before you and your teammates walk into the afterparty venue, you catch her by the elbow, pressing your lips to her ear to whisper, “You have one hour and then we’re leaving.”

She smiles at you like she’d been expecting that response. Azzi trails her ringed fingers across your abdomen, pulling the waistband of your boxers and letting it snap against your skin soundly. “We’ll go when I’m ready,” she murmurs to you. “Behave.”

You don’t behave – not that anyone’s really surprised. You’re not sure how Azzi expects you to act right when she’s been teasing you all day. Her afterparty dress isn’t helping you, either. It’s snug, somehow revealing a whole lot more than the draft dress did, the straps on her shoulders thin and all you can really think about is getting her out of it. But you have to be tactful.

You start slow. Fleeting touches that would otherwise be uncordial if the lights were any darker, your fingers firm against her waist as you pull her into you as you dance. You unbutton your vest, claiming that it’s too hot, the material being held together by a bare minimum single button. You had Azzi’s attention now – you just had to finish the job, so you go ahead and call an Uber because you know she’ll be eating out of the palm of your hands before the night’s over.

Azzi’s nursing her drink at the private booth when you slide in next to her. You don’t let her get a word out before you say, “Look what I have.”

She raises a brow when you reveal the blunt between your fingers. You can tell she’s still trying to act like she’s in control, but you can see the flicker of curiosity in her eyes, the barely masked desire because she knows what you’re planning on. “You want?” you ask, goading, your voice low.

In lieu of a response, she plucks the blunt from your fingers, her free hand reaching up to trace your bottom lip, her gaze dark and seeking. Her index finger taps your cheek and you hardly think as you open your mouth for her. She places the blunt between your teeth, reaching for the lighter held in your hand, and ignites it for you.

Already throbbing, your first drag is slow, methodical, your body relaxing as you inhale. You reach for Azzi’s jaw, your eyes locked on hers, and her lips part when you lean in, shotgunning the smoke directly into her waiting mouth. Her fingers thread through your hair, her grip tightening as she sighs against you. When you pull back, her pupils are blown wide, eyes glossy, and you smirk to yourself when you watch her thighs press together.

“Want another?” you ask teasingly, not really wanting to get fucked up tonight, but she nods. You bring the blunt back to your lips, inhaling again, and her fingers tighten around your waist as you pull her in. This time, she inhales more than you exhale, like she’s truly trying to breathe the air from your very lungs. It makes you ache all over, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the table and throw her legs over your shoulders, but you remind yourself to be patient. You were close to making her crack – you could feel it.

When the smoke is gone, she sighs against you softly. You press your lips to hers – slow, not meant to lead anywhere, but to work her up and make her desperate for it. But when Azzi fucking whimpers, you know you’re gone. You lean in again, your kiss more insistent this time – needy. It’s sloppy, led by pure desire and the ache that’s been building in your core all day, wet when you brush your tongue against her lips and she lets you in immediately. It makes you lightheaded, moreso when she reaches for your free hand and guides it to her waist. You groan into the kiss as you feel her, your hand dragging across the definition in her abs, down to her thigh, slipping your fingers under the skirt of her dress, your head spinning when you press against the damp spot at the apex of her thighs.

She pauses, breathing heavily like it was a secret you weren’t supposed to know about, and you grin at her, because you’ve won. “Oh, Azzi,” you coo, your voice dripping with faux concern.

“Don’t even–”

“You’re soaked,” you murmur, relishing in the way her breath hitches when you drag your fingers across her again. She curses under her breath, her head lolling, and you waste no time before you’re leaning in and pressing your lips to her neck. You nip at her skin, your touch dangerously featherlight against her, only meant to tease. “You were just gonna sit here all night, dripping down your fucking legs, acting like you don’t need me? Like you’re not bothered?”

“‘M – fuck – not,” she argues weakly, her breath catching when you draw her skin between your teeth, enjoying the way her skim blooms.

You laugh a little. Your fingers drag against her a little harder and her hips buck. “So, you wouldn’t mind it at all if I stopped?” To punctuate your point, you retract your hand from her thighs. She whines, bratty and displeased as you adjust her skirt, acting as though nothing was wrong. “Since you’re so unbothered, right? I’m getting a little thirsty, too. I think I’m gonna go up to the bar, say hi to Paige, make sure she’s not dead.”

Azzi whimpers, your name falling from her lips. It sends heat straight down to your core. Before either of you can say anything, KK slides into the booth next to the both of you, drink in hand. “Hey, y’all!” she chirps happily, blissfully unaware of what she’s just interrupted. You can feel Azzi burning next to you – you are, too, but after what she’s put you through today, she can sit through it a little longer.

“You seen Paige?” you ask KK nonchalantly, raising your fingers to your mouth, sucking the remnants of Azzi’s arousal off in a show of checking for something in your teeth. Azzi’s breath catches in her throat, her expression beyond wrecked.

“Mmm,” KK hums around her straw, glancing over her shoulder. “Think P Boogs was tryna get everyone drunk last I saw. Big ass crowd around the DJ.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes slightly. “Sounds like her.”

Then, before KK can say anything else, Azzi groans, pressing her palms to her forehead.

“Damn, you good?” KK asks, concerned.

“I don’t feel great,” Azzi mutters. You have to hold back your laughter, but KK buys it – hook, line, and sinker.

KK presses her hand to Azzi’s temple. “You’re burning up,” she states. “Maybe you caught a lil cold.”

You rub your hand across her back. Her skin is warm but her posture is tense. You’ve won. You know it. “Lemme take her back to the hotel so she doesn’t throw up everywhere,” you say to KK, trying for a concerned expression as the both of you stand. “Make sure Paige doesn’t get too lit, okay?”

KK offers a two-fingered salute. You reach for both yours and Azzi’s bags, saying your final goodbyes to KK, and you lead Azzi through the crowd. “You’re so fucking evil,” Azzi says, lengthening her strides.

“Just playing the game, baby,” you retort, squeezing her hip possessively.

The Uber ride back to the hotel is tense, but not with hostility. You rest your hand over Azzi’s thigh, who trembles with unrestrained need, but you’re content to tease her. She hasn’t admitted it yet although you know you have her right where you want her. When you make it to the hotel, you make sure to thank the driver, and you guide Azzi through the hotel lobby.

As soon as the elevator doors close, she’s on you, her hands around your neck as she pulls you down to her level. Your kiss is desperate, pure heat and desire, pent up frustration from being teased all day. You want her as bad as she wants you, so you sink into her, wrapping an arm around her waist and your free hand trailing under her skirt again to grip her thigh. Sliding a knee between her legs, she grinds down on you, and all you can do is swallow her moan as you drag her across your leg.

The chime of the elevator barely cuts through the haze between the two of you. Azzi drags you along with a purpose and presses her lips to your neck while you’re fumbling through your wallet for the keycard. Once it finally registers, you push open the door and you have her pressed against it before it even clicks shut. Her heels fall off, her legs tightening around your waist as you hold her up, your hands firm under her ass. Azzi’s fingers tangle in your hair, lessening the space between the two of you.

Slowly and blindly, you navigate through the darkness in the hotel room until your knees hit the bed. You lay her down on the pillows, not stopping the drag of your lips until you’re aching and breathless. Your fingers reach for the remaining button on your cropped vest while Azzi’s fumble with your belt buckle, both your vest and your pants coming off with ease. Left in just your boxers, Azzi’s hands reach for the waistband, too, and you let her pull it off you.

Her pupils are wide with want, her eyes dragging across every inch of your body. You let her touch you, her hands sliding across your hips, cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples with a sort of reverence that you’re too wound up to fully appreciate. You gather her hands in yours, pressing them over her head as you lean down to kiss her soundly.

It’s pure filth, pure desire, the way she keens into you, her hips bucking up for the slightest contact or friction. The knowledge that she wants you makes you throb. You press her hips into the mattress with one of your hands, and with the other, you drag your fingers across her chest, as if trying to memorize her body.

“Don’t tease me,” she pleads, her doe eyes wide and gone, still slightly rimmed with red from the smoke you’d exhaled directly into her lungs.

You smile down at her, sharp, unyielding, ruined in your own right. Azzi Fudd is beneath you, laid out and begging for you to touch her, and it’s almost disastrous when you realize that you’re the only person in the world with the power to deny her a little longer, to make her work and beg for what she wants from you. You smooth your hand across her chest again, feeling the cool metal of the necklace she’s wearing, until you inch up slightly to rest your palm against her throat. You can feel her pulse hammering – you don’t apply any pressure, just letting her feel the weight of you, teasing her with the possibility of what’s coming. “You’ll take what I give you,” you murmur, listening to her soft sigh. “Been together how long and you don’t think I know you? Know what you need, how to give it to you? Don’t be silly, Az.”

You lean down, brushing your lips against hers again, featherlight and barely there. She chases after you when you pull away but freezes when you apply pressure to her throat, squeezing the sides lightly – not enough to cut off her air flow, but enough to warn her. She keens, hips shifting, and truthfully – a part of you feels a little bad. You want to give it to her – everything, if you could, but she’d left you wet and wanting for the better part of the day, too. “Be good,” you whisper, and she nods emphatically, tears pooling in her eyes from how badly she wants this.

Once you’re sure you’ve earned her submission fully, you reach for the straps of her dress. Gingerly, as if unwrapping a present, you tug them down her shoulders; she raises her arms to help you, and you throb with desire, your eyes taking in every inch of caramel skin revealed to you. The slope of her collarbones, the dusty brown of her nipples, her soft sigh when you can’t help but take one into your mouth, your hand reaching up to brush against the other one – it all makes you ache. You alternate motions, listening to her delicate moans, kissing her once more on the lips before you draw back to continue pulling the dress off of her.

The knowledge that you’re the only person who gets to see her like this makes your head spin. Azzi is so beautiful, so pliant beneath you, so willing. You could never get enough of her.

You discard the dress at the foot of the bed, spreading her legs a little wider and slotting yourself in between them. Cupping her cheeks, you press your lips to hers again, hardly needing to ask before she’s opening her mouth, her tongue meeting yours, swallowing her soft sighs and the sounds of need.

“How do you want me?” you ask, your lips trailing across her jaw. She tilts her head to give you more space to work with, soft whimpers building in her throat as you nip and suck, soothing the sting your teeth leave behind with your tongue. You’ve hardly done anything but she’s wrecked, already teetering on the edge of being fucked out that you take your time with her, letting her try – and fail – to gather her thoughts.

You lick the salt off her skin, deciding to have mercy on her. “You want my mouth?” You kiss the sensitive spot under her ear, smirking when her breath comes out in a shudder. “My fingers?” Your hand drags against her navel, dipping dangerously low and feeling the heat radiate off of her body.

“Both,” she begs, hands reaching for yours for stabilization, like she’s afraid she’s going to melt away completely.

“Both?” you echo, teasing, kissing her lips again when a blush rises on her cheeks.

“Please?” she tries – anything to get you to stop torturing her and to get on with it. Her lip trembles, a tear slipping out, and her breath comes in increasingly fast bursts that makes you think you’ve dragged this on for too long. Azzi’s needy, desperate, wet for you – what kind of monster would deny her for so long?

So, you don’t. You descend, marking your path with soft kisses and nips to her skin, energized by the soft gasps falling from her lips. “I got you, baby,” you promise, your hands massaging the tension out of her thighs. “Breathe for me, okay? I got you.” Azzi nods, her fingers tangling in the sheets if only to have something tangible to hold onto.

You rest one arm over her hips to keep her in place, already knowing that your girl has the inability to sit still, but before you press your lips to her, you reach up and twist your Valkyries cap over your head so it faces backwards. The sight of you above her, the self-satisfied smirk, the backwards hat, the strength in your arms makes her eyes glaze over, her gaze heated, needy, already ruined.

You kiss her thighs gently, easing her into the feeling, listening to the change in her breathing as she tries to calm herself. With her other hand, you spread her folds, groaning in appreciation for the sheer amount of wetness you find waiting for you. The duvet beneath her is damp. Knowing that you can’t keep her waiting anymore, you lean in, dragging the flat of your tongue across her, relishing in the long, drawn out, deep moan that spills from her lips. 

You’re everywhere, her wetness spreading across your cheeks, your nose brushing against her clit with every up and down and back and forth motion of your head. Your free hand wraps around her strong thigh, trying to keep yourself rooted – Azzi tastes fucking divine, unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. Ever since you cut down the net nearly a week ago, you’ve been on a perpetual victory tour. Getting drafted was a new high, but right here, right now, with your girlfriend trembling for you, it feels like winning all over again.

You alternate between short, quick flicks of your tongue to her clit and long, slow, broad strokes against her. You delve inside, drinking directly from the source, groaning when her nails scratch across your shoulders. The bite of pain keeps you from getting too lost in her, in her taste, in the cries spilling from her throat.

“Please,” she gasps, her body trembling, seizing up, shaking with pleasure. “More.”

“Breathe, Azzi,” you remind her, rubbing her navel, and when she does, you oblige. You quicken your pace, the intensity. Your jaw aches, but her soft cries and whimpers do nothing but motivate you. You suck her clit into your mouth, releasing it with a pop, continuing to work her until her thighs shake. For good measure, you trace the letters of your name over her, just to remind her who’s doing this. She gasps, realizing what you’re doing, her body melting into the mattress. When you glance up just to check on her, your pace falters, a groan spilling from your lips when you realize she’s squeezing her chest to keep herself grounded, her thumbs tweaking her nipples.

Unable to resist, you reach up to cup one of her breasts, taking over for her. Her hand wraps around your wrist just to hold on. You can hear the shift in her breathing, the way her breaths transform into gasping moans, and you can tell she’s close. You double down, focusing your attention to her sensitive clit, and abandoning her breast to tangle your fingers together. 

“I’m close,” she warns you, her voice pitchy, squeezing your hand.

“Breathe,” you say one more time. You don’t have to look up to see her nodding, listening to her whimpers as you work her closer to the edge. You can tell when she gets there, the way her hand tightens in yours, the way her cries increase in volume. And when it finally hits her, you’re almost not ready for the intensity of her orgasm, but you ease her through it, keeping up your motions and slowing down until her hands push your head away.

You can’t help but grin, pressing one last kiss to the inside of her thigh as she breathes heavily, coming down from her high. You rub her stomach soothingly, adjusting until you’re hovering over her fully, and with your free hand, you wipe the tears off of her cheeks, the smudged mascara. “You good?” you ask softly, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, the gentleness of your voice a stark contrast from the heat of the moment prior.

“Mhm,” she hums, her voice sounding a little wrecked, and you can’t help the smug smile that appears on your face. You press a firm kiss to her lips, deepening it as soon as she lets you, relishing in the moan she lets out once she tastes herself. You pull back to kiss her cheek, your thumb gentle on her skin.

“You’re not done yet, are you?” you coo, your fingers trailing down her chest, brushing against her ribcage. She glances up at you, her gaze ruinous, pliable, soft. “Know you’ve got another one in you, baby. One more for me?” Her response is instant, emphatic nods as her hand reaches for yours. You smile, pulling the cap off of your head and settling it over hers, enjoying the sight of her in Valkyries gear far too much. That was your team now. Your girl. It makes you suddenly aware of the ache between your legs, the throbbing need you’d ignored until Azzi felt good.

You drag your hand down her torso, feeling the warmth of her skin, the sweat pooling in the ridges of her abs. She’s quivering like she wants more, like no matter what, she’ll take it as long as you’re the one giving it to her. Your fingers find the dampness between her thighs, brushing up and down to coat them, and your eyes find hers as you reach to rub featherlight circles against her clit. It makes her hips jump up, her breath catching, but she hurries to keep her body in place, knowing exactly what you expect of her.

It makes you smile, your free hand reaching up to cup her breast again, thumb brushing against her nipple. “So good for me,” you murmur, pressing your lips to her neck as you keep up with the barely there motions that make her tremble. You suck another dark spot against her neck, uncaring of who might be able to see – let them. A plea falls from her lips, her brows drawn up and tight, and the sight makes you ache, still working her with your fingers. “You want more?” you ask. But she nods, so you press a little firmer against her, just to get her attention. “Words, baby. Let me hear you.”

“More, please,” she whispers, her voice small, begging, gone.

You smile to yourself, tapping her chest directly over her heart – a reminder. She understands instantly, breathing in and out deeply. Your fingers dip down to brush against her entrance, just teasing, before you sink one finger in her. She’s so soaked that you push to your knuckle without any resistance, her jaw falling slack, face contorting with a silent moan. You pull out, then push in again, feeling her walls squeeze your finger.

Suddenly aware of your own ache now, ready to combust purely from the feeling of being inside her, the sounds she’s making, and she way her face twists with pleasure, you shift, your knees pressing into the mattress as your legs bracket one of her thighs. Slowly, you sink yourself down, groaning when your clit brushes against the firm muscle of her thighs. Azzi chokes on her breath, her eyes flying open when she feels you – just as wet, as wanting, as desperate as she is. With the hand not inside her, you tangle your fingers together, resting your joined hands over her navel.

You recognize the needy expression on her face, so you add in a second finger, murmuring nonsense to soothe her when she breathes a little heavier. You sync your motions, rutting against her thigh in tandem with every push and pull of your fingers. She’s dripping everywhere, her slick cascading down your wrist and onto the duvet, and she whines, babbling a whole lot of words that are more like sounds than they are like sentences.

“Fuck,” she pants, her voice cracking a little. “More? Please, I–”

“I got you,” you whisper, your voice low, hungry, wrecked, your hips still seeking out your orgasm. “Relax for me, Az. So good for me, you know that, baby?” You adjust the angle of your fingers, your thumb pressing against her clit, rubbing slow, methodical, firm circles, gazing down at her reverently when she cries out. “You’re so beautiful Az. You hear me?”

She nods, eyes slipping shut, but you press down on her stomach with your joined hands, gaining her attention as she gasps from the feeling. “Eyes on me, baby. Let me see you.” She nods again, a whimper falling from her lips as her gaze finds yours. Her eyes are glassy, tears pooling at her waterline again from the sheer amount of pleasure, and you grin. “There we go. Perfect girl, just taking it all, aren’t you? You want more?”

Azzi hums again, her fingers tightening around yours over her navel. “Please,” she begs, “wanna feel you.”

“Whatever you want,” you agree breathlessly, dizzy from the pleasure of rutting against her thigh and from the sight of her jaw falling open as you squeeze in a third finger. Her walls clench around you, a moan spilling from her lips, and before you know it, her hips are bucking up to meet your thrusts. Watching Azzi chase her pleasure makes you feel a little weak, so all you can truly do is let her ride it out, trying to maximize the feeling as best as possible.

It doesn’t take much. She’s still sensitive from her previous orgasm and you’ve been wound up all day, so you sigh raggedly, releasing her hand to drag your palm up her torso, brushing across her chest until it comes to rest over her throat. You don’t apply any pressure – not yet – but the way she gazes up at you, her brown eyes full of tears and trust, makes your hips stutter although you try to keep your fingers and your thumb moving consistently for her.

“‘M close,” she murmurs, rocking against you, her slick soaking your fingers. Her body glows with a light sheen of sweat, her chest rising and falling erratically, her face contorted and desperate as she breathes for you.

You tighten your grip around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her light-headed, and her hands reach up to hold onto your arm for stability. You’re not one to usually deny Azzi, but you do like to delay – to draw her pleasure out until she’s trembling and a breath away from slipping off of the edge completely. You press your thumb a little firmer against her clit, circling it, although the amount of slick gathered there makes you fumble, and you order, “Hold it.”

Her eyes find yours, a bit of desperation reflected in her gaze as you speed up both your hips and your fingers. “Fuck,” she whimpers, “I can’t, baby, please.”

“You can,” you press, your stomach burning with your rapidly approaching climax, your wrist cramping from how consistently you’ve been splitting her open. Her pulse hammers against her ribcage and you can feel it in her neck. “You will. You’re so good for me, I know you can.”

Azzi nods, like she’s believing it too, and her body all but melts into the mattress as she takes it, her face screwing up with the willpower it takes to hold back. Her thighs start trembling again, legs shaking, and her grip on your arm tightens ever so slightly. Her eyes meet yours, a single tear streaking down her cheek, pupils blown wide, her gaze needy and trusting, letting you make that choice for her.

You can’t deny her for much longer. “Let go for me, baby,” you instruct, body burning at the whimper that spills from her lips. Azzi is fucking ruinous. Her mind, her body, her heart – every bit of Azzi makes you unravel at the edges, makes your composure slip until you’re nothing but a vessel for want, love, desire. You gaze at her with sharp, desperate eyes, determined to watch her fall apart beneath you, to sear the image on your eyelids for as long as you’ll live, to replay this very scene every time you close your eyes to sleep.

She clenches around you, gasps falling from her lips, and it’s then that you finally release your hold on her throat, watching her suck air in as she unravels completely, soaking your hand and the bed below her with her release. It’s enough to push you over the edge too, spilling over her thigh as you move your hips and your hand in tandem to ride out the aftershocks.

The pleasure gives way to overstimulation and she taps on your wrist. Gingerly, you remove your fingers – you shudder when you take in just how wet they are and Azzi sighs, almost as though she misses the stretch – and you wipe them against the duvet, figuring that it’s already destroyed enough.

Your legs feel a little weak when you crawl off of Azzi’s thigh, collapsing onto your side next to her, taking in her expression with a mix of smugness and mild concern. “You okay?” you whisper, brushing your clean hand through the hair sticking to her forehead, cupping her jaw gently.

“I think you just destroyed me,” she says, voice hoarse, and you laugh a little as you press an affectionate kiss to her cheek.

“I’m not that lucky,” you retort, watching the smile light up her face.

The both of you lay in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of your breathing and the hotel air conditioner to be heard in the room. Then, Azzi shifts, meeting your gaze. Her eyes are a little brighter, a mix of exhaustion and love in her pupils. “You got drafted tonight,” she reminds you.

You were too swept up with her to consciously think about it, but in the quiet of the room with Azzi breathing next to you, the realization begins to creep in. It hasn’t set in fully yet – you’ll probably truly realize you’ve been drafted when you and Kaitlyn board the plane tomorrow morning to go visit the Bay, or when you sign the lease for your new apartment.

For now, though, you’re content with the simple understanding, to get lost in this moment together with Azzi, where the time doesn’t feel like it’s moving as fast anymore.

“I did,” you agree.

“To GSV,” she continues. “California.”

You search her eyes, knowing where she’s going with this. You’ve had this conversation numerous times before, knowing that there was a chance the draft would take you away from her. “You think a couple miles can keep me from annoying you? Try again, baby.”

Azzi quirks a small smile. “Try three thousand.”

You cup her cheek, angling her face so she’s looking you directly in the eyes. “I love you,” you promise. Her features brighten at your admission. “That’s all we need. No matter how far away we are, I’m yours. And our schedules aren’t that bad. You can come see me during the offseason. And I’ll be at every single one of your games. Coach thought he got rid of me but he’s wrong. I’m gonna be sitting courtside yelling about how you’ve literally never fouled anyone in your life.”

She laughs, a relieved sort of sound, and you press your lips to hers, soft and lingering – a vow. “I love you,” she whispers back. “And I’m so proud of you.”

You smile mischievously at her. “Think you love me enough for a third round?”

Azzi rolls her eyes, faux-annoyance in her expression – but your smile widens when she throws a leg over your hip to straddle your waist, kissing you in a way that makes you think about how nice forever sounds with her.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎… || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which you realize maybe dallas isn't so bad after all

sexual content ahead - minors do not interact

The soft hum of the TV fills the living room as you lounge across the couch, one arm tossed lazily over your head, the other half-heartedly holding the remote. You're not really watching — some mindless sitcom is on — but it’s something to drown out the quiet that’s settled in since Paige left for media this morning.

You hear the door click open and your head lolls to the side, a lazy smile tugging at your lips because you already know it’s her. You stretch a little, rolling onto your back, ready to call out some teasing comment — but the words get caught in your throat.

Because there she is.

Paige Bueckers. In an oversized, striped long-sleeve, black pants that sit snug on her hips, and — the real kicker — a damn cowboy hat tilted low on her forehead.

You blink. Once. Twice. Your mouth dries instantly.

Your heart pounds slow and heavy in your chest as your eyes rake over her. The contrast of the casual outfit and the absurdly sexy hat does something to you, something primal, and suddenly, you’re wide awake. Sitting up a little straighter. Legs clenching together without even thinking.

Paige notices. She smirks. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Something wrong, baby?" she asks, voice a little rough from media, a little teasing, a little full of dangerous promise. She leans one shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, hat casting a shadow over her sharp blue eyes.

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly working like it’s made of sandpaper.

"That..." you manage, throat tight, eyes flickering helplessly over her body. "That hat."

Paige raises a brow, pushing off the wall and sauntering toward you — sauntering — hips rolling in an unhurried rhythm that makes your mouth water. She stops in front of the couch, towering over you, head tilted.

"You like it?" she asks, low and teasing. Her hand lifts to the brim, adjusting it, making you watch her fingers brush the fabric.

You nod dumbly.

A slow, devastating smile pulls at her mouth. "Yeah? You look like you’re about ready to climb me."

"Maybe I am," you shoot back, voice hoarse.

Paige chuckles — dark and warm and full of heat. She reaches down, her hand sliding under your chin, tilting your face up to meet hers. You breathe in her scent — sweat, leather, and something distinctly Paige — and it hits you so hard you whimper.

"You’re not gonna do anything," she murmurs, eyes glittering. "Not unless I tell you to."

And just like that, your body melts, every muscle turning pliant, ready to obey.

She leans down, slow, excruciating, nose brushing yours, lips barely a whisper away — but she doesn’t kiss you yet. Instead, she lingers, teasing, breathing you in, making you desperate.

"Paige," you whine, shifting restlessly under her.

Her hand slides from your chin to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there — a possessive, commanding weight.

"Patience," she says. "I wanna take my time with you."

Your eyes flutter shut as she finally, finally seals her mouth over yours. It's slow at first — soft, deliberate — like she’s tasting you. Mapping you out. Her lips move against yours in lazy, drugging kisses, tongue flicking out to tease your bottom lip until you whimper again.

Paige chuckles against your mouth, deep and rumbling. She loves hearing you fall apart.

The hand on your throat slides lower, tracing your collarbone, then lower still, slipping under the hem of your oversized t-shirt to dance across your stomach. Goosebumps erupt in her wake. You arch into her touch, greedy.

She kisses you harder then, tongue slipping into your mouth, claiming you, devouring you slowly. Her other hand fists in your hair, tugging lightly, angling your head so she can kiss you deeper, messier.

You moan into her mouth, fingers clutching at her shirt desperately.

She pulls back just enough to breathe, lips brushing yours as she murmurs, "You're already so needy for me, huh?"

You nod, gasping. "Paige, please—"

She laughs — soft and wicked — and straightens up. Then, without warning, she bends down and scoops you into her arms, making you squeal and wrap your arms instinctively around her neck.

"Bedroom," she says simply, eyes gleaming.

You nuzzle into her, clinging tight, heart thundering. The world tilts and sways as she carries you down the hallway, shoes thudding heavily against the hardwood. She kicks the bedroom door open and strides inside like she owns the place — owns you.

Paige tosses you gently onto the bed, and you bounce a little, breathless, already reaching for her. But she just stands there, watching you, a lazy, predatory smile on her lips.

She takes her time.

First, she pulls off her shoes and tosses them aside. She takes the hat off, gently placing it on your head and you swear you could’ve come undone right then and there. Then, she slowly — so slowly — peels off her shirt, revealing golden skin, toned arms, and a taut stomach. Your mouth waters, hands itching to touch.

Paige sees it — and shakes her head, smirking. "No touching unless I say so."

You groan, tilting the hat down over your eyes in agony.

When you peek out from under it, she’s undoing the button of her pants, dragging the zipper down in agonizing slow motion. She shimmies out of them, standing in nothing but a black sports bra and black boxers.

You are absolutely wrecked.

Paige prowls toward the bed, crawling over you, knees bracketing your hips. She grabs the hat from your head, placing back onto her’s. She plucks at the hem of your shirt, raising an eyebrow.

"Off," she commands.

You obey instantly, yanking it over your head, leaving you bare except for your underwear. You feel her eyes rake over you, dark and hungry, making you squirm.

"God, you’re beautiful," she murmurs, voice rough with want. "Look at you."

You flush, chest heaving.

She leans down, brushing her lips over your collarbone, down your sternum, feather-light kisses that leave you trembling. Her hands roam your sides, teasing touches, not giving you what you crave.

"Paige," you gasp. "Please."

She hums against your skin. "Please what, baby?"

"Touch me," you beg shamelessly. "Need you to touch me."

Paige smiles against your stomach, then hooks her fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down, slow and deliberate. You lift your hips to help her, desperate.

She tosses them aside and sits back on her heels for a moment, just drinking you in — sprawled out, desperate, needy for her.

"Goddamn," she breathes. "You’re so wet already."

You whimper, hips twitching.

She trails a hand down your thigh, nails scratching lightly, then higher, closer, until her fingers brush through your slick folds. You gasp, hips jerking.

Paige shushes you, soothing, fingers circling your clit with the lightest, most maddening touch. Just enough to drive you crazy.

You buck your hips, chasing her hand, but she pulls back, smirking wickedly.

"Uh uh," she says. "I said patience."

You groan, fists clenching the sheets.

She leans down and kisses you again, deep and dirty, tongue fucking your mouth as her fingers finally — finally — press where you need her most.

You sob into her mouth, thighs shaking.

She fucks you slow with her fingers, curling them just right, dragging moans from your lips like she’s playing her favorite instrument. Her mouth moves to your neck, sucking dark bruises into your skin, claiming you.

The cowboy hat stays on, casting shadows over her wild, hungry eyes, and somehow it makes everything feel hotter, dirtier, more desperate.

You cling to her, gasping her name over and over, riding her fingers shamelessly.

When you come, it hits you like a freight train — white-hot and blinding. You cry out, body arching off the bed, trembling in her arms.

Paige kisses you through it, crooning sweet praises against your lips.

When you finally sag back against the bed, boneless and dazed, she withdraws her fingers slowly and brings them to her mouth, sucking them clean with a low, satisfied groan.

You whimper, brain short-circuiting at the sight.

Paige grins, then leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your sweaty forehead.

"Still with me, baby?" she teases.

You nod weakly.

"Good," she says, voice full of wicked promise. "Because I ain’t done with you yet."

Your chest is still heaving, your body limp and warm under Paige's touch when she pulls back, that familiar mischievous glint in her blue eyes. She smirks, adjusting the cowboy hat still perched low on her head, and leans over the edge of the bed, rummaging through the nightstand drawer.

You prop yourself up weakly on your elbows, watching her.

When she straightens, Paige is holding the strap in one hand — black, thick, already making your thighs press together in anticipation. She stares at you, smirking, like she’s got all the time in the world.

"You know what they say 'round here..." she drawls, voice low, southern accent creeping in just to mess with you. Her hand drops the strap onto the bed next to you with a soft thud.

Your mouth goes dry.

She leans down, her breath hot against your ear as she whispers, “save a horse…”

A shiver rips through your spine.

“…ride a cowgirl.”

She picks up the harness, takes her time stepping into it, cinching it snugly against her hips, adjusting until it’s perfect — until she's perfect.

Cowboy hat still cocked on her head.

You’re practically vibrating with need now, staring at her like she’s a damn mirage.

Paige pats her thighs and leans back against the headboard, legs spread just slightly, strap standing proud between them. She crooks a finger at you, beckoning.

"Come here, baby," she says, voice rough and inviting. "Wanna watch you ride me."

You scramble into her lap, straddling her thighs, hands braced on her chest for balance. Paige’s hands settle heavy on your hips, grounding you, squeezing just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

"Go slow," she murmurs, eyes dark and hooded under the brim of the hat. "Wanna see every inch of you."

You nod, swallowing thickly.

With a shuddery breath, you reach between your bodies, guiding the tip of the strap to your entrance. You gasp the second it touches you, already so sensitive, so achingly ready.

Paige’s hands tighten on your hips, thumbs stroking soothing circles into your skin.

"That’s it," she whispers. "Take your time, baby. I’m not goin’ anywhere."

You press down slowly, inch by inch, the stretch making your head tip back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

"F-fuck, Paige," you whimper.

"I know," she soothes, one hand sliding up to your waist, steadying you. "You're doin' so good."

You sink down fully with a desperate cry, thighs trembling from the effort. The feeling of being so full, so connected to her, makes your whole body tremble.

Paige groans low in her throat, tilting her hips up slightly to grind into you.

"You feel so good," she rasps, hands guiding you to start moving. "So fuckin' pretty like this, ridin’ me."

You start a slow rhythm, rolling your hips in lazy circles, grinding down on her instead of lifting up yet. The friction sends sparks shooting up your spine, every nerve ending raw and alive.

Paige’s hands never stop moving — gripping, soothing, guiding. She lets you set the pace, lets you take what you need.

You rock against her, riding her slow and deep, mouth hanging open, soft moans slipping free every time the strap presses against that perfect spot inside you.

Paige watches you with wild devotion, the cowboy hat casting her eyes in shadow, but you can feel the heat of her stare burning into your skin.

"So fuckin' beautiful," she breathes. "God, you’re everything."

You lean forward, catching her mouth in a desperate, messy kiss. She groans into it, one hand sliding up your back to clutch you tighter to her.

The kiss turns rougher, teeth clashing, tongues tangling.

You start moving faster, lifting and sinking down onto her with more urgency. The sounds between you are obscene — wet, desperate, aching.

Paige growls low in her throat, bucking her hips up to meet your thrusts, making you cry out.

"You gonna come for me, cowgirl?" she pants against your mouth.

You nod frantically, unable to form words.

Her hand sneaks between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, maddening circles that make your vision blur.

"Come on, baby," she urges. "Ride it out for me. Show me."

It only takes a few more frantic thrusts before you break apart, orgasm slamming into you so hard you sob against her neck, nails digging into her shoulders.

Paige holds you through it, fucking you gently through the waves, whispering praises against your ear.

When you finally slump against her, boneless and shaking, she kisses your temple softly, rocking you gently, still connected.

"You’re perfect," she whispers. "My perfect cowgirl."

You nuzzle into her, exhausted and blissed out.

The hat tips forward and bumps your forehead lightly, and you giggle against her skin.

Paige chuckles too, finally lifting the hat off her head and tossing it aside before gathering you closer.

"C’mere," she says, pulling you down onto the bed with her, cradling you against her chest.

You sigh, safe and sated, tangled up in the sheets.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you already know — you’re gonna be sore tomorrow.

But damn, was it worth it.

[meijikai]

shared lust .

jujuwatkins x reader x paigebueckers.

your close friend, who labeled you as their "plaything" , having a chance to bring you over to their dorm, passing you like a blunt, fucking you senselessly over and over till you break. threesome. paige nd juju literally arguing while fucking you. jealousy. they r basically taking their anger out of you while they fought over u. overstimulation

It started as a casual night, you’d been close with paige and juju for a while, maybe too close, the kind of friends who flirt just a little too long, whose touches linger, whose eyes say everything their mouths dont.

they were both bold, confident, a little chaotic, and dangerously in sync, you’d always noticed the way juju looked at you, like she wanted to ruin you and paige? paige had that smirk that promised she’d help.

when they invited you over to their dorm, you thought it was just to hang out, netflix, some drinks, maybe gossip, but the second the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted.

“been waiting to get you alone” juju muttered, voice low, fingers brushing your jaw as she backed you into the couch.

paige stood behind you, hands sliding along your waist “you have no idea what you done, coming here like that.” her voice was velvet and steel, calm but charged.

before you could speak, juju was already pulling your shirt over your head, mouth crashing into yours, hungry, demanding, paige grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other roamed your skin like it was hers to claim.

they passed you between them like they rehearsed it, juju bit your shoulder as paiges nails scraped down your thighs.

when paige took her time between your legs, juju held your face, forcing you to watch every move, her skillful tounge swirling on your clit teeth grazing, her eyes fully focused up on you.

and when juju pushed you to the edge again, having her knuckles deep inside you relentlessly slamming her fingers, paige whispered in your ear how ruined you looked.

“your ours tonight” paige said, voice rough, lips brushing your temple "all night” juju echoed, gripping your hips “till you forget your own name.” and they kept their word, over and over, you were devoured, worshipped, dominated, no room for thought, only sensation, only their hands, their voices, their control.

they didnt stop until you were trembling, your throat raw from begging and moaning, your body wrecked in the best way, marked by both of them.

time blurred, hours passed like minutes, your body caught between paiges rough confidence and jujus desperate hunger, every touch from them was deliberate.

at some point, you were straddling jujus lap, her one hand gripping your ass as she rocked, and bounce you up, two fingers deep inside you,her eyes wild and locked on yours.

“you dont know what you do to me” she panted, voice almost trembling "you have no idea.” before you could respond, paiges hands were threading into your hair, tugging your head back until your throat was exposed, she leaned in from behind, licking a slow stripe up your neck.

“dont go catching feelings, juju” paige murmured darkly “we said we share her, not fall for her." juju stiffened beneath you, but didnt let go “maybe i already have” she said quietly.

you moaned loud whimpering when juju smacked your hips so hard it stinged, and paiges grip on your hair tightened just slightly.

the room shifted again, paige tugged you off juju and spun you around, her mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was all dominance and frustration her tongue was commanding, her hands pinning you down on the bed with a strength that made your head spin.

“your mine tonight” she growled “ours" juju muttured glaring at paige, paige was much more rougher than earlier, biting your nipples, slamming her fingers inside you much deeper and faster.

juju stood at the edge of the bed, watching, chest rising and falling, eyes dark with jealousy, and something deeper, when paige finally let up, juju pulled you into her arms like you were breakable, her lips kissing your forehead like a lover, not a plaything.

“you feel it too, dont you?” she whispered “tell me you do.” you didnt speak, your body was too wrecked, your heart too confused, but your fingers curled into her shirt, and your eyes wouldnt leave hers, paige sat back, watching both of you.

the room was quiet now, heavy with the smell of sex, sweat, skin, you lay there between them, your legs trembling, lips swollen, body marked with bites and bruises that would stay for days, one of paiges hickeys was already darkening just above your collarbone, jujus nail marks crisscrossed your thighs like a map.

they hadnt stopped touching you, even in the quiet, juju traced lazy circles on your stomach, her gaze locked on your face like she couldnt look away, paige had one hand tangled in your hair, running her fingers through it absently, but there was tension in her jaw.

you felt it coming before she even spoke "so" paige muttered “what are we doing?” juju stiffened “what do you mean?”

“your acting like shes your girlfriend.”

“and your acting like your not catching feelings at all.” you tried to sit up, but paiges hand on your shoulder kept you down, gently, but firm.

“dont” she said, eyes on paige. “let her speak.”

you looked between them, heart racing for a whole different reason now “i didnt come here to get in the middle of something” you said slowly, voice hoarse “i thought this was just… fun.” jujus eyes softened, but paiges got colder.

“is that what it is for you?” paige asked “just fun?” you didnt answer, couldnt, not when your body still ached for both of them, not when part of you wanted to curl into jujus arms and the other wanted to let paige take you apart all over again.

juju leaned in, brushing her lips against your ear

“i want you” she whispered “not just tonight not just to fuck. I want you.” that cracked something in you, your breath hitched, paige sat up, like she couldnt sit still with everything rising up inside her “i wont fucking share her, you said this is a one time thing and your giving her to me” she growled

the way they argued was too overwhelming, voices starting to raise, so you stood up to make them calm down "i..i gotta go.." paiges hand slid from your cheek down to your throat, gentle but firm, her thumb traced over your pulse "your not going anywhere” she said, more like a promise than a threat.

juju pressed herself closer behind you, pressing her chest to your back, arms snaking around your waist, lips ghosting over your shoulder

paige pushed you back down slowly, kissing you deep lazy but commanding, like she owned every inch of your mouth, juju’s hands explored lower, down your hips, teasing between your legs, her touch was softer than before, but no less intense.

“your still sensitive” juju murmured, almost teasing, her fingers brushing where you throbbed, tou jolted, breath catching.

jujuss fingers slid in slowly, spreading the slick mess they already made of you, your back arched instantly, a broken sound falling from your throat.

paige grinned breathing heavily. “fuck, look at you.” she starts to rub her fingers on your clit " you love this dont you?" she whispered low.

you nodded without thinking, lips parting “good girl.”

she kept rubbing your clit in circle motions,and you moaned as juju curled her fingers inside you at the same time, it was overwhelming, you couldnt think, couldnt breathe, couldnt stop.

they moved in sync like they were made to ruin you together, juju leaned over, kissing the curve of your stomach as she kept pumping her fingers in slow, devastating waves “let go for us” she whispered “your ours now.”

and you did, again, and again, your body shaking, your hands gripping their wrist like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

when it was over, paige traced kisses on your jaw, juju kissed the inside of your knee, working her way up your body, slow and sweet.

you were wrecked, completely.

masterlist.

🔖 — @addl0vee @tndaqlwifwy @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @paige05bby @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @taylynbueckers44 @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream @gabbyygoo @bravemode

[meijikai]

attention. janaelalfy x reader.

you have been on your phone for hours and jana is starting to get annoyed, so she does something that will really make you put the phone down.

smut.

It had been one of those lazy sunday afternoons, gray skies outside, the kind that made everything feel a little slower, a little quieter, you were curled up on the couch in a pair of soft shorts and janas oversized hoodie, eyes locked onto your phone screen, social media had sucked you in scrolling, liking, messaging, hours passed without you even realizing it.

jana had been patient at first, she lay beside you, nestled into the corner of the couch with a book, occasionally glancing over, waiting for you to look up,but you didnt, not when she brushed her foot against yours, not when she shifted closer, not even when she set her book down with a sigh.

"you been on that thing all day” she murmured, not trying to hide the edge in her voice "im just checking something one sec” you replied, barely glancing up "thats what you said an hour ago.”

she sat up, her arms crossed, watching you with that mix of frustration and something else need, jana wasnt just annoyed, she missed you, craved your attention, and after waiting for it patiently, she decided to take it.

without a word, she slid closer, one knee between your thighs, her hands on your waist "jana— what are you doing?” you asked, the phone still in your hand "since you wont look at me” she said softly, her mouth near your ear "i'll make you."

you opened your mouth to protest, but her hand had already slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, her fingers were warm, and the sudden jolt of sensation made your breath hitch, the phone slipped from your hands and hit the carpet with a soft thud.

“now I have your attention” she whispered, her voice low and possessive, your hips arched against her touch involuntarily, a moan catching in your throat as her fingers moved with slow precision, teasing and knowing exactly what would drive you wild, her free hand moved to your jaw, turning your face toward hers.

“eyes on me” she said, and the tone in her voice sent a thrill down your spine.

you obeyed, the tension between you burning hotter with every stroke of her fingers, your body trembled under her control, the phone completely forgotten, the only thing that mattered now was her, her eyes, her touch, the way she claimed your focus so effortlessly.

and as your body gave in, as she brought you to the edge with nothing but her touch and that hungry gaze.

jana didnt let up, if anything, she got rougher when she saw the way you melted under her touch, her fingers curled inside you with purpose now, her movements no longer teasing

“you ignore me for hours" she growled into your ear "and now your gonna come with my fingers deep inside you, since your phone was so much more important.” her hand at your jaw tightened, just enough to hold your head still, to make sure your eyes didnt wander back to the phone now lying face down on the floor, her thigh pressed between your legs, her mouth brushing your ear.

“you like this, dont you?” she hissed “acting all innocent while I make you fall apart.” you whimpered half desperate, half defiant and tried to close your legs against the overwhelming sensation, but she pushed her knee in harder, spreading you wider.

“uh-uh” she warned, voice low and threatening “your gonna take what I give you.” you couldnt help it anymore, you reached for her, clinging to her hoodie as your moans broke free, she was ruthless, driving you higher, harder, until your body shook.

“you should been paying attention to me hours ago” she muttered “now your mine until I decide you earned me back.”

masterlist.

🔖 — @addl0vee @tndaqlwifwy @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @paige05bby @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream @gabbyygoo @bravemode

[axavani-deactivated20250203]

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT

parings: Nika Mühl x Teammate Black! Reader

genre: Angst, Smut and Fluff

warnings: Enemies to lovers, Arguing?!, Hate sex?!, R having an attitude, Nika being cocky, Finger-Blasting?!?, Strap on

synopsis: With being the 10th pick in the WNBA draft and now your playing for the Seattle Storm. You're happy about it but theirs only one problem, Nika Mühl. A girl you've had a problem since freshman year and you're playing with her again! This won't work unless…

authors note: I had to write a enemies to lovers bc like it's just so Nika core😘. This has very little plot bc I'm so bad at it😭. Also, we aren’t going to go by the exact way the 2024 WNBA Draft went and Nikas spot is the same but we are going to pretend that Seattle was the team for number 10 and not Connecticut Suns😭 And yes part 2 of the paige fic is coming soon😜

“im more of a real bitch and my pussy wetter”—𝜗𝜚

How do I deal with rejection? I'm dealing with a lot of rejection right now.. Which it makes me feel like im not being seen.

But do you know what I do see? A woman who makes you angry and irritated every day. Uconn graduate: Nika Mühl. Ever since freshman year the both of you have never gotten along and the team obviously hated the fact it could never be peaceful because your always talking shit to each other

Now, You're forced to play with her; again! and just pisses you off. Then the media thinks that you and Nika have a lot of sexual tension and that both of you would be cute together but you disagree with that. Why would you want to be with that cocky woman.

She always has something to say every time you open your mouth. Which always leads the both of you to argue. It was just horrible but the only good thing was that both of you played nicely together when on the court.

There have been many instances on camera of you and Nika arguing, and some of the girls on the team have told you to cut it out because we would get benched.

This did happen and now you both have very little playing time since the coach caught the both of you almost yelling at each other in the locker room. Today, was team bonding so you had to hang with the team which you didn’t mind since they were pretty cool.

During your stay in Florida, the group opted for an Airbnb instead of a hotel. As a result, you ended up having to share a room with Nika for the time being. The situation wasn't unbearable, but there was noticeable tension between the two of you throughout your time together.

Standing in the closet, roaming it for some clothes but then you hear your phone ringing so you go and grab it to see who it is. It’s the gc and everyone was asking what should they wear. Someone said just to look bad as fuck since its a girls night out.

— time skip 𝜗𝜚

The whole team gathered in Miami and it was about 8 pm and you guys were at this restaurant and it was pretty nice. Y'all just chatted about god knows what but that's when you feel a hand on your thigh and you immediately look to your left and see that it's Nikas hand on your thigh. She isn't looking at you but the feeling of her hand is making you feel things.

You went back to talking to Sami and Tori. A few minutes go by and you feel Nikas hand inching higher and higher up your leg. You glance over and see that she's already looking at you.

“What are you doing?” Questioning her. “Nothing..” She says in a sweet voice. Now she's grabbing at your thigh and you're now questioning why you put on this short-ass dress tonight. She was teasing you on purpose and it was getting to your head.

Her hand is dangerously close to your cunt, it was making your head spin literally. The longer you let her have her hand there it more your breathing was unstable and your heart was beating a lot more. Nobody noticed it but Nika, not thinking that she realized your breathing changed and you played with your hair more than before.

She let go of your thigh for a little bit when the food got to the table. You were wishing that she would put her hand back on you just to feel her touch again. A lot of time went by and now you guys had the bill to pay for the food. Before all of you left everyone decided that half of the team would pinch in to pay for the restaurant bill and the other half would pay for the bar.

Leaving the restaurant and now heading to a bar that was a 10ish minute walk. Getting inside and everyone immediately got some drinks. You got a martini and now you're just talking to random people at the bar. Nika comes over puts her hands around your waist and joins the conversation.

God she was aggravating. Was there anything she wasn’t good at? She could charm people with the bat of her eyelashes. She was hot and you hated to admit it. She was perfect and that’s what you hated. You were mad that she had charmed you THAT easily.

— time skip 𝜗𝜚

The room was eerily quiet as you both got unready. Quick glances at each other, but never meeting each other's eyes.

You swallowed hard as you sat down on the couch that was in the room to take off your sneakers, “Did you really have to tease me all night?”. You had broken the silence and now there was no going back.

“What?” Nika looked up from fidgeting with her shirt buttons.

“Did you REALLY need to touch all up on me?”

“Well, I thought it was funny”

You stared at her. In shock that an hour ago you were thinking about how maybe you could get along and maybe have something more.

“You’re intolerable, you know that?” You say with a dirty look in her direction.

“Lyings not a good look on you. Your reactions told me that you were into it…”

She laughs at her comment and you roll your eyes, letting a more awkward silence fall over the room.

“I think you might like me a little bit, she jokes half to herself and half to you.

She looks over to you, lightly biting her lip a little.

“You didn't deny anything I did, that’s all I’m trying to say”

“Shut the fuck up”, you snap at her.

Nika puts her hands up defensively and resumes to unbutton her shirt. You sneak a glance at her, catching a look at her toned stomach. It made your face flush a bit before you continued working on unzipping your dress.

The zipper catches midway through your back and you groan. You tug it up and down a few more times in an attempt to free yourself. Her eyes follow the noise of the zipper and she sees you struggling. She makes her way across the room, her black dress shirt unbuttoned and hanging untucked around her body. The red lace bra she wore under it was exposed ever so slightly.

You attempted to ignore her, confining to tug on the zipper. But her exposed skin was so tempting to look at.

“Do you need some help?”

“No I don’t need your hel-“, you start to protest her intervention.

“Turn around” Nika demanded.

You shut up, listening to her and turning around. Niks sighs and gently moves your hair to one shoulder. Her fingertips are gentle on your exposed back, touching you like you’d break.

You don’t dare to look back at her or else you might do something you regret. You feel her grab the zipper as she begins to work it free.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Nika asks casually as she continues to unzip your dress. It catches you off guard. In the time you’ve known her you’ve never known her to be this blunt. Your voice catches in your throat. The big attitude you had five minutes ago slipping away quickly.

“I don’t hate you”

“Then what’s with the attitude”

You weren’t sure if you were lying or telling the truth when you say you didn’t hate her. The last few hours have been making You rethink everything.

Nika gives a yank to the zipper and it moves freely. Once she’s done you turn to meet her, still holding your dress up. She hasn’t moved, opting to stand and stare at you.

What were you going to say? You hated her? She drove you insane? You weren’t even sure anymore. You take a closer step to her,

“You make me feel frustrated. I’m not sure in what way,”

She she searches your face, saying nothing.

“I’m confused, okay? Did you get what you wanted out of me?” You’re exasperated with her lack of response.

You wait for a response from her for what feels like forever. Her brows are furrowed as she stares at you. You almost could swear that she was looking into your head. You couldn’t interpret what she was thinking. Her brown eyes are dark, consumed in contemplation. You’re about to walk away when she finally opens her mouth to say something.

“Do you want to find out exactly how I frustrate you?”

She’s close. Closer than you’ve ever been. She’s close and the air is tense, like a bomb ticking about to go off. Her eyes are on your lips, flicking between them and your eyes. She fiddles with a stray piece of hair resting over your shoulder.

“Nika what does that mea-“

She’s grabbing your face, colliding your lips in an explosion of frustrated passion.

You kiss her back hard, harder than you’ve ever kissed anyone before. A whine escapes your mouth. You’re fighting for dominance, and losing pathetically. Your arms are slung over her shoulders. Desperately clawing at her hair.

“Yes-“ you gasp for air when she pulls away, “I want to find out so fucking badly “

Atleast two years of tension had just blown up in your face. Four years of tension that you couldn’t name for the longest time, and now you could.

Nika had upset you so much because you liked her. You loved the millions of questions she’d ask. How she teased you, even if it drove you up the wall. This girl drove you insane and you loved it.

She pounces on you, shoving you up against the nearest wall. Biting at your lip, you submit to her. This was a losing game, there was no point to fighting her.

You’re panting when she pulls her mouth off of yours, dragging your bottom lip a little with her. Your unzipped dress finally gives way and falls to the floor. Nikas eyes meet yours and then look down to the black dress pooled on the floor. She moans a little, seeing you in just your bra and underwear.

She’s kissing down your neck, leaving little bite marks in her path and you’re breathless. Head spinning over the predicament at hand.

“You think I’m insufferable, but..” She trails off, planting a kiss on your collarbone. Her eyes flick up to yours, looking at you through dark lashes.

“The most insufferable thing is how insanely horny you’ve made me all night”

Your breath catches in your throat at her confession. She kisses down the valley of your breasts, her hands gripping your hips. You moan at her actions. A kiss to your ribs, to your stomach, to just above your underwear.

“Nika..”, your hands are caught in her curls.

“What Baby? No harsh comebacks now?”

The nickname slips from her mouth so effortlessly, like she had been just waiting to call you it. She was right though, you had nothing to say for once. You looked down at her, Nikas mouth mere inches from your aching cunt.

She smirks at you, hooking two fingers around the waistband of your underwear.

“Should I take these off?” She asks so innocently. She punctuates her words with a tug on the band. Her eyes burn into yours. You nod your head.

“Words please” she’s playing a game with you. Dangling your pleasure right in front of you.

You don’t want to give her the verbal satisfaction. She is still Nika Mühl after all. And she still presses all your buttons. You are not going to use your words. intertwining your fingers with her hair, you give a harsh tug to show her what you want. Nika moans.

It makes you wetter.

“Oh and I’m the one who’s a spoiled brat” she lets go of your underwear, snapping it back in place and standing at her full height.

“Nika..” you pout at her sticking your lower lip out at her. She wipes her thumb over your lip, keeping it there. She forces you to keep your eyes on her.

The way her eyes are lined with a darker brown than the rest. Her already kiss swollen lips. She’s close to you as she supports herself against the wall. You reach out, running your hand down her abs, almost letting your fingers reach the top button of her slacks. Nika grabs your hand and holds it in place.

“You knew what you were doing tonight” she smirks at you. You look at her through half lidded eyes and smile. Nika laughs a little at you. It’s crazy hot.

“Wearing that little dress” She removes your hands from her abs, holding them together in front of you, “Seems like you wore it on purpose”

She leans close to your ear and whispers in a low voice,

“I am going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk”

“In your dreams, Niks”

You had finally found your voice, her charm had worn off. She laughs again. Looking your face up and down.

You’re whining as she crashes your lips together. It’s messy. Teeth clicking here and there, Nikas hands grabbing at your ass. You’re grabbing at her back, leaving indents where your nails meet her tan skin.

“And everyone here is going to know that you let me, the girl you hate, ruin you” That ignited something in you. Your ongoing feud was no secret, and having everyone know you fucked your feelings out was a little too tempting.

She’s kissing down your neck, sucking bruises that will last longer than you want them to.

“And what if I fuck you?”, You pant, grabbing at the back of Nika’s neck.

“I’d like to see you try”

Nika grabs your ass, picking you up quickly and moving you to the bed. She’s reaching behind you to undo your bra.

“Hardly seems fair that I’m almost fully naked

And you still have your pants on”

Nika popped the back of your bra and removed it from your body swiftly. Your nipples perk up at the cold air of the bedroom.

“Is this what you want?”

Nika stares into your eyes as she undoes the top button of her pants. She steps out of them, leaving her in just the matching lace bra, underwear and and her black button up.

“Shirt off too, please” You sit up, jutting out your lower lip in a pout. She shakes her head as she reaches to take the button-up off.

“Now you have manners…but remember.. IM the spoiled brat here” she rolls her eyes and throws the bunched up black shirt at you.

You catch it and toss it off the bed, welcoming her back as she crawls her way on top of you. She kisses you again , letting her hands explore down your chest. She kneads on your boobs, grabbing fistfuls of each.

You moan into her mouth, pushing your chest into her hands more.

“Eager much?” She pulls away, letting her breathe fan across your face.

“No chance” you laugh at her, your hands grasp both sides of her face as she leans over you. She rolls her eyes at you again, letting one of her hands stroke down to your nipple. You inhale through your teeth holding back a moan, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

She gives another tug, this time flicking her thumb over the bud of your nipple. She keeps her eyes locked with yours, smirking at you. She’s expecting you to show some sort of reaction.

Your chest lurches forward, seeking more friction from her calloused hands.

The damp spot in your underwear continues to grow as you rub your legs together in an effort to soothe the ache that’s ever-growing in your cunt.

She glances down at the movement and looks back to you while biting her lip.

Nika lets her hand travel from your tit, down your stomach and ending right above the elastic to your panties.

“This where you want me?” One finger slides its way under. You turn your head to the side, not wanting to confirm you want her fingers. You say nothing

She huffs and leans forward, kissing her way up your neck.

“Cmon…you know it’ll feel good”, two fingers push farther down.

You’re holding back moans. Noises only Nika has been able to elicit from you and you haven’t even fucked yet.

She’s so warm and inviting. You know it would feel so good if she just stuffed her fingers in your cunt and fucked you stupid. But you can’t let her win. She’s always winning, running circles around you.

Nika bites at your earlobe, those two fingers dangerously close to your throbbing cunt.

You whine,not being able to contain the kind anymore. The scent of her body wash looming around you, clouding your better judgement.

“Nika…” you whine her name out. Nika moans at the sound of your voice, needy and desperate.

“Yeah?” She asks, her thumb stroking gentle circles on your skin, a smile on her lips as they’re pressed to your neck.

How could the girl you had hated for so long be treating you so good right now? “Please…” you whisper out, letting your resolve break.

Those wandering fingers abruptly enter your pussy, earning a moan from your mouth.

You jolt upwards, back arching and pressing your nipples against Nikas lace covered chest. She continues to thrust her fingers in and out of you, occasionally letting her thumb brush up against your clit.

“I told you it’d feel good” she whispers into your ear. You moan at her words, she’s right. It feels fucking fantastic. She’s managing to hit all the spots that make you see stars. Your head leans back, making eye contact with the ceiling as Nika picks up her speed. She’s curling her fingers as she sucks marks down your neck, eventually leaving a few on your breasts.

“I- i hate you so.. fucking much” Letting her know you still have a attitude and it never left. “Says the one who’s practically riding my fingers”

You grab at her head, threading your fingers into her hair and pull her face into your chest. Nika gives a groan at that as she latches onto one of your nipples making you groan loudly and tug at the strands of dark hair clutched in your hand.

She continues her assistance at your core. Every press of her fingers has your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“I’m gonna..”

“You’re gonna what? Cum?” Nika laughs as she pulls off of you. You nod frantically at her. She’s slamming her fingers into you at this point and you’re a moaning mess, only wanting to finish.

Nika’s moving up closer to your face. She presses her forehead against yours, your noses grazing the other.

“Cum on my fingers then”

She thrusts her fingers into your cunt, your juices leaking down her arm.

“Shit, shit Nika”, you’re grabbing at the hand that’s thrusting in and out of you, curling upwards towards her.

Her thumb brushed against your clit, a purposeful circle and you’re unraveling into her.

Her lips find yours again, silencing the pathetic moans that you’re making. Nika moans into you as you finish on her fingers, exactly how she wanted you to. She works you through your orgasm for a moment, giving a few gentle thrusts before pulling her fingers out of you.

You wince a little as her fingers exit you, not letting the grip you had on her wrist go. Nika gently removes your hand from her wrist as she sits up. She gives it a light kiss before she turns her own hand towards her mouth.

Nika locks eyes with you as she slides her tongue up her wrist, collecting your slick before inserting her fingers in her own mouth. She moans a little as she wraps her lips around her fingers, sucking your juice from her fingers for a second before releasing them with a slight ‘pop’.

You blink a couple times, panting. Nika looks at you, and smiles a bit. A cocky, all knowing smile.

“Enjoy the show?” She smirks as she leans back towards you. Her dark hair falls around your face, pieces of it tickling your cheeks.

“Nika Mühl…” Panting a little, looking up at her, “I didn’t know you were such…”, Your hands start to explore the plane of her stomach, touching the toned abs that lay there,

“…..a whore”, You smile at her. Your tone laced with malice as you spit out your last word.

Nika scoffs a bit, stopping your hand before you could get your fingers under the waistband of her underwear.

“I could say the same about you, based off the noises you were making”

“Brat”, she says, flashing a smile and laughing slightly before going to her bag and beginning to dig through it.

You sit up a little, admiring the way her red underwear fits her ass. Your mind wanders to all the times you checked it out during training. God damn Nika and her too tight tops aswell.

Nikas digging goes on for a little too long and your curiosity begins to peak.

“Is your dick in there or something?” You half joke, wanting to know what she was looking for. You laid there, completely exposed to the too cold AC of the bedroom. You already missed Nika being in bed with you.

“Yeah…Or something” Nika mumbles quietly. The sound of her zipping up her bag catches your attention.

“Nika is that a fucking strap on?”

“You never know when I have to fuck sluts like you,”

You sit up slightly, watching as Nika steps into her harness. The clear with glitter silicone dick bobs in between her legs, and you swallow slightly.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”, Nika joins you back on the bed, crawling over you.

“I know I am, and you’re obsessed with me because of it”, she kisses up your neck. Her confidence oozing out of her, you could almost swear you were breathing it in and letting it cloud your mind.

You grab her hair into a ponytail at the back of her head, pulling her mouth off your neck. Nika groans before her eyes meet yours.

“I told you I was going to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk. I’m a lady of my word”

Nika teases your entrance with her strap, letting it run through your folds.

“Fuck Nika..” you half moan half whine as she positions her dick.

“God say that again” Nika moans into your ear . She begins to push her strap into you and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

You’re pulling on hair, pulling her head away from you when all Nika wants to do is mark you, claim you as hers.

“God.. Fuck Nika..” You repeat, more enthusiastically this time as Nikas strap finally enters you, fully.

She fills you to the hilt of her strap, your hips almost flush with each another. The base of her dick rubbing sweetly against her clit.

She whines a little, resting her head into the crook of your neck.

“Aw poor baby, do you want to swap?” You coo sarcastically as you rub her back, finding your way to the clasp of her bra.

Nika gives an annoyed groan, punctuated by a hard thrust into your pulsating cunt.

You yelp in surprise, popping the clasps of her bra, and watching the straps fall loose around her shoulders. Nika pulls out again and thrusts her hips once more, taking pleasure in the friction she also receives from the motion.

“Just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?” Nika begins to take off her bra, discarding it to wherever your clothes also lay.

Your hands find her nipples, twisting and pinching them as she snaps her hips into you.

You lean up, swallowing the beautiful whines she’s giving to you as you play with her tits with your mouth.

She kisses you back, letting herself submit to your suddenly surge of dominance.

“So fucking hot..” you mutter as you pull away, letting your eyes drift to Nikas lust blown pupils, down to where her dick was splitting you in two.

“Could say the same about you” Nika watches your tits bounce with each thrust she gives. Her eyes follow the shiny jewelry between your tits.

You’re moaning as you grasp at her back, letting your dominant facade fall and letting Nika have full power once again.

Her hips are slamming into yours, practically humping you like a dog in heat. Your legs wrap around her hips, attempting to put you two closer than you already were.

Nikas whining, actually whining. You can see sweat drip down the side of her face, baby hairs sticking to her forehead.

You’re in no better shape. Your back arched up, legs locked around Nikas waist, sweat travelling down your back and into your asscrack.

“I’m gonna fucking-“ You moan, your sentence not even getting finished as Nika reaches down to rub your clit while continuing her ministrations with her hips.

“Me too…oh my god me too” Nika’s going hard now, chasing her own high. Her thrusts are spastic and uncalculated.

The floodgates open in a minute, and you’re gushing all over Nikas cock, and hand once again. A whining, moaning, drooling mess.

She works you through your high, only taking a few more pumps until she’s also finishing. Nika gives a few weak pumps, almost pushing you towards overstimulation before she falls on top of you, leaving her strap on inside.

She gives you a few weak kisses on your chest as you run your fingers through her hair.

Nika reached down to remove her strap, making you suck in a breath of air as you an adjust to the feeling.

Once the harness and silicone dick had been removed, she sighs, content as she sinks her face into your chest, fingers rubbing small circles in your stomach.

“I still don’t like you, you know that, right?”, you break the silence first, still playing with Nikas dark curls.

“Mhm, and I hate you” Nika smiles lazily up at you.

What are you going to tell the rest girls tomorrow morning..

⍟ axavani 2024 | reblogs & likes are very appreciated

[mochelisgf]

❛ word count: 1636

❛ warnings — smut, fingering (m!receiving), making out, idk other stuff that you’d usually see in smut fics

❛ bottom!morgan x reader

❛ authors note — this is my first time witting smut and i hate it so….enjoy 😀 also we need more mo cheli fics 😩

We hadn’t done anything in a week — perhaps even longer, seeing as how both me and Morgan have been busy; her with basketball and finals; and me with finals and my job. But here she was — flirting with someone else, well she's talking to a fan which is fine but come on? The excessive touching, holding her arm, biting her lip?

The act made you cringe – jealousy boiling inside of you, that should be me — she's mine. Blind by your rage you hadn’t noticed that morgan had made her way towards you until you hear

“Hi baby, did you enjoy the game?” is the first thing she says, her eyes sparkling as her breath — shallow and breathy begins returning to its usual state.

“Yeah I did, you did good today.” was all you said in response, your annoyance seeping through your fake smile lying on your face.

Morgan chuckles slightly, grabbing on your arm – pulling you up from your seat. As you guys are walking morgan continues —

“Geno wants me for a conference today so you’ll have to stay a little late today, okay?” not even bothering to answer her you simply hum, ending the conversation there – morgan must know she’s fucked up cause she keeps sneaking glances at you as you walk her to the conference room.

Stopping at the entrance, Morgan lets go of your arm and leans to give you a kiss on the cheek “wish me luck!” she says before stepping away and walking towards Paige and Sarah who were doing the conference alongside her – and walking into the room.

Obviously Morgan wasn’t too worried about how you’d felt just before the conference, because she had spent the entire time giggling, biting and licking her lips at the younger female and male reporters in the room. Answering the questions with flirtatious word choices and using those beautiful brown eyes to her advantage – even making the reporters melt and hot. She knew what she was doing, teasing me, and this wasn’t the first time she’d done it.

Throughout the week I'd been busy, but that didn't stop her from making attempts towards me, in private and in public – and even going as far as trying to make me jealous with her teammates. She was a brat and I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to teach her a lesson.

As soon as she’d finished her interview and walked into my view I grabbed her arm, pulling her towards me as I walked in the direction of the nearest private bathroom. Getting to the bathroom I yanked the door open – pushing her inside before turning around to lock the door.

Her eyes find and follow mine as I turn around to face her – her gaze drops to my lips as she bites her lips, breathing ragged and uneven.

Moving in, I pull her in by the back of her neck, closing the distance between us. Our bodies merge together as we devour each other's lips. Pulling away – my mouth opens slightly

“You’ve been bad mo.” you say, morgan in response attempts to close the gap between us again – letting out huff when I hold her back, stopping her attempt.

“fuck im sorry baby I- I was just..I dont know, please” she pleaded trying to close the gap once again – my hand on her throat stopping her again, the whimper she let out dying on her throat

“You need to learn how to Behave.” you say, slowly leaning it, her breathing heavy – your nose brushing on her neck as you slowly start kissing at her neck, careful not to leave hickeys on her neck seeing as how you guys were still in public. Her breath shaky – panting as you slightly begin mouthing at her neck, your hands finding their way downwards as you untuck her jersey from her shorts – slipping your hands on the material.

You push forward – her back finding the door to the bathroom stall, as her low moans echo throughout the bathroom

“take it off,” you whisper into her ear, signaling to her jersey before backing up to give her the space to do so. She moves forward a bit and then frantically grabs the bottom of her shirt and takes off her shirt – her medium grey sports bra laying underneath “the bra too baby.” you say – breathe heavy as your low, airy voice bounces off the walls of the room – she drops her shirt on the floor before taking her sports bra too and pulling it off, her hair getting even more messy as it slides off her head.

She waits. Standing there as her knees slightly shake and her face flushes harsher. You use two fingers to signal her towards you — her following in response. One of your arms wrapping her waist as her other one settles on her neck, caressing the skin. Looking at her she’s disheveled – lost — already gone in such little time, just waiting for her next demand.

Leaning in again; she moves fast, her lips desperate to meet yours. As the kiss deepens, your hands shift — the one that was lying on her neck moving to her front. Your hand palming her tits — squeezing slightly causing Morgan to gasp into the kiss and tighten her grip on your shirt.

Pulling away – the hand that you have on her waist starts to drift lower, slipping into her shorts and past the band of her underwear — brushing against her, your hand palmed at her tits again.

“Fuck” Morgan says as she tilts her head back, her lips parted and eyes shut tight.

Your fingers begin to move lower, touching — teasing her folds in the process, watching as your finger begin to be covered in her slick.

“baby plea –– fuck!” she shouts, her mouth dropping open as one of your fingers sinks in. Morgan wraps her arms once again around your neck, pulling you even closer to her — the movement causing your fingers to go deeper.

Morgan begins to moan out louder as you slowly start to move your fingers, curling up slightly when you go deeper

“fuck baby don’t stop—” a whimper breaking through — her legs growing weaker.

You stop your movements, slowing slipping out of her

“wait no —” Morgan panics

“it’s okay, just turn around from me, face the mirror mo” you shush her, nodding in her direction

She turns around, facing the mirror. Her eyes meet yours and you both smile in sync,

“take your shorts off” you say, she begins pulling her shorts off but then you add onto your demand “underwear too”, still holding eye contact with the girl.

Morgan reaches her hands so that they can grip onto her shorts and underwear before sliding them down — leaving her fully bare — completely out in the open, allowing you easier access.

You wrap your arms around her again, starting at the top, groping and palming at her tits causing the girl to moan out, then you move lower and lower before you reach your target

Morgan gasps under her breathe as you bring your hands lower, finally touching her folds ( or should I say clit idk) again, her head begins to lean back on your shoulder but you stop her, bringing her head back up,

“Keep staring into the mirror baby, come on” you say — Morgan nodding in agreement, just hoping that you’d stop teasing her and get over with it

her body is shrinking — she’s overwhelmed by the pleasure she’s feeling, the feeling of your hand rubbing her clit, that feeling increasing by 100 when you finally sink into her again, she’s tight — pulling your hand into her and she bites her lips in an attempt to be quieter.

“please move, god please baby” she whines out, desperate for anything — as you begin to move, her moans begin to echo throughout.

You’re practically moaning in her ear, although you couldn’t feel it yourself, the feeling of her squeezing around you — pulling you in, was more than enough. Her back pressing against your front was more than enough, her moving back against your fingers — basically grinding against you.

The bathroom was quiet, no words were being said. All that can be heard was squelching, whimpers and heavy breathing, until —

“shit, i’m so close” Morgan’s voice breaks through the noise as she looks at you through the mirror

“yeah? you gonna come for me baby?” your face in her neck –– returning her gaze, quickening your place, your fingers pistoning in her.

she nods “yeah, I’m gonna come for you” you add a second finger — moving your thumb to her clit, making a circular movement.

“then do it. come for me morgan” you whisper in her ear, sending her over the edge — she lets out a strangled noise, her knees buckling, your arm around her waist being the only thing keeping her from falling.

Nobody talks for the first few seconds, the only noise being the sound of you pulling out from her and both of your ragged breaths.

“Jesus christ, maybe i need to flirt with other people more often” is the first thing morgan says, forcing a laugh from you

“Absolutely not, don’t ever do that again.” you reply– smirking, still meeting her gaze in the now foggy mirror. For awhile you guys completely forget where y’all are, heads turned to kiss each other. That’s until morgan breaks away and says

“shit, how long have we been here? fuckk we need to leave, i'm gonna be in so much shit next practice” she panics, pushing you away to pick up her clothes that've been discarded on the floor earlier.

@kate20martin

[bueckersbitch]

wildest dreams - paige bueckers x reader

୨୧ warnings : sexual content

୨୧ word count : 2.4k

୨୧ authors note : hi guysssss, that photo of p on the middle was taken today and it had me thinking…

୨୧ taglist : @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @rosemariiaa @lovegalor333 @xxloveralways14 @mrsarnold @janaelalfysblunt @bueckersfive

“Chen to Bueckers, aaaaaand, it’s good!” Time froze, your hands dropped to your sides as you watched your defender walk head down to the opposing side. Everything you and the team had been working so hard for the past season, had come to a close. “The Uconn Huskies are your 2025 NCAA national champions! Bueckers will end her collegiate career with a title under her belt!” Echoed from the commentators table, “What a season from Bueckers, am I right? Amazing to witness history in real time, this team has worked through so much. I know Bueckers will be greatly missed at Uconn.” Tears started to well in your eyes as you crossed the court, putting one foot in front of the other mindlessly, the floor slightly slippery as you crashed into Paige. Throwing your arms around her. A sense of pride filled you as you laughed into her shoulder, whispering, “You really did it baby, everything you worked so hard for, those nights you prayed that God would guide our team in the right direction, those early mornings we got up to train, it all paid off.”

Paige’s arms engulfed you, arms tight around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder, “Couldn’t have done it without you ma.” Confetti starts to fall, the blue and white falling around you two, screaming of the arena silenced with noises of soft cries from you and Paige. Still, you heard the commentators, “And there's Paige and y/n, the two of them obviously very close after time at Uconn, while Bueckers declared, y/n chose to stay another year following her acl injury last season. Great teammates who had each other through it all, amazing basketball iq’s that may not play together again in the WNBA.”

There it was, the one thing you had been avoiding, Paige leaving you. Conversation arose when you chose to stay another year at Uconn. Paige was adamant that this would be her last year, and with that, she had something to prove. Not to others, but to herself. Pressure was put on her immediately from the media, talking about how all the greats that have passed through Uconn have gotten one or more national championships. If there was one thing about Paige, it was that she hated losing. You, on the other hand, had considered declaring, but something felt wrong, hurling yourself into a new environment when you hadn’t really been given the opportunity to fully explore this one. Paige was your rock. She was there for all of it. You sometimes thought she knew you better than you knew yourself. But when the time came, you chose to stay.

You pulled away from each other, noses and foreheads stuck together for a brief moment as you both smiled, “Can’t fathom that you’re leaving me, going to the big league, huh?” You said, Paige’s smile quickly fell from her face, her arm wrapped around your shoulder, she kissed the crown of your head. “We don’t gotta think about that right now, look at where we are, where God led us.” You let out a grunt, startled as Morgan jumped onto your back, laughing, “My twin! You really did that!” Morgan had been your roommate this year, and with that, your best friend. You took the young girl under your wing, personalities mirroring each other perfectly. She was one of the reasons why you found yourself yearning to stay another year. Shedding her from your back, you hugged her, ruffling her head lovingly.

-

“Alright! We have Bueckers, y/l/n, and Chen for the presser!” You took your seat in the middle of Paige and Kaitlyn. Eyes from the crowd focused on you, phones out at the ready to tweet your guys’ responses. Questions flowed like water from the interviewers in front of you, seated in rows, raising their hands when talking. Paige answered most of them, excitement exuding from her. You admired her, how the light in her eyes had returned as opposed to the hard times she went through when she was injured.

“Y/n, I wanted to ask you about your time with Paige on this team, obviously, the two of you have been attached at the hip, more so this season. What has that been like?” You clear your throat, sitting up straight as Paige and Kaitlyn both turn to look at you. “Well, Paige is the type of person you really only come across once in your life. She gave me faith, in myself, in our team. And I mean, on the court, her confidence, ability to assess the court, and make plays has been something that has directly resulted in us being able to be seated here today. Off the court, she’s reliable, I don’t think there’s a single time where she hasn’t given amazing advice to all of us. She uplifted me while I was out for injury, sometimes when it got hard, like when I felt like it was unrealistic for me to even play again, she sat me down, and we talked for the entire night, how she had felt the same when she was out, how she yearned to be back on the court, how each day felt two times longer than the last. But yeah, I can’t believe she’s leaving me, it feels like just yesterday we were going through our playlists trying to pick out our first night walk out song.”

You sniffled, the ball in your throat growing larger as you carried on, glancing over at Paige when the time was right. The interviewer following up with, “Paige, how do you feel about having to leave not just y/n, but your whole team here at Uconn?” Paige brings her hand to her face, rubbing her chin, leaning on the table, “Y’know, I feel like it’s the same as last year, our loss to Iowa, there’s gonna be tears regardless of if we won or lost, because yeah, it's surreal having to imagine that a time where I can’t walk over to y/n’s apartment, or team nights in each others rooms is right around the corner. I know everyone is in good hands though, especially with y/n being the old head next season.” You scoffed, shoving her shoulder.

-

Stepping out into the Tampa humidity, your tracksuit immediately becomes uncomfortable, a shower after the presser left you here, outside with Paige. “We fuckin’ did it.” Paige points to a screen, you look up at the building, eyes widening. Screen bright with “Uconn Huskies, NCAA Women’s Basketball Champions.” Husky in the center of the screen, confetti graphics around it. Your arms crossed, but your mind was at ease after the historic season behind you. “Yeah, we really did huh?” Paige shook her head in disbelief, grabbing your hand and walking you over to the car you guys had rented out for the trip. She opened your door for you, hopping in the driver's seat to drive you guys back to your hotel.

-

As soon as you guys got to the elevator, it was game over. The whole ride back, Paige’s hand found comfort on your thigh, softly toying a little too close to your core. Paige eagerly pushed the elevator button, grabbing your waist to pull you in. Her lips parting before shoving your hair over your shoulder, granting her access to your neck, sucking right below your ear. Your mouth parted as you let out soft hums, left hand reaching up and into her hair, while the other gripped her bicep. The muscle flexing, feeling like it could burst right through her tech’s sleeve. Somewhere along the way, her hand had found its way to your ass, kneading it while using it as a way to pull you in closer to her. Elevator dinging as you guys reached the floor you were staying on.

Urging Paige to your room, you made her detach from your neck, to your dismay. She followed you like a lost puppy, sneakily kissing your shoulder whenever she got the chance. You tapped your card to your room, shoving the door open as soon as it blinked green, dragging Paige in with you. You gasped as Paige shoved you against the door, pressing her leg in between your legs, resuming her action of leaving marks on your neck. Her hands unzipped your jacket, dragging it off your frame, guiding your arms around her shoulders. She ground you onto her thigh, and if your senses weren’t heightened by the blonde in front of you, you would’ve missed the “So proud of you baby.” that escaped from her pink lips. However, you longed for more, the kisses not helping with relieving the ache in between your legs, “Paige please, nmph, need you.” Paige pulled away, putting her hands on either side of your head, having her arms caging you in, “Yeah? Y’gonna show me how bad ma?” You move one of her arms, slipping away and towards the bed, you undress yourself, leaving you in a navy blue bra and underwear set, hooking your hands together behind you, slightly pushing your tits out. A lovesick face took over Paige’s features, “Fuck, we win like that, and my girl looks like this?” You nod, “Gotta give you the best, 31 points P? You have no idea how bad I was holding back in the locker room.” Smiling, you pull her by her sleeve, toying with the ties of her sweatpants. Silently asking if it was okay to undress her. She nods, and you start getting rid of the clothing, pulling her white tee up over her head, exposing her pink nipples to you, peaked from the antics between you two. You kept her boxers on, black waistband ending below her stomach. You ran your fingers over it, feeling the hardness of it.

She had you on her lap, your back flush against her chest, she was sat against the headboard. Her arm was snuggly wrapped around your throat, bicep pulling you backwards so your face was beside hers. Paige’s free hand unclasped your bra, the arm that was around your throat was the one she simultaneously used to pinch your nipple, you felt it hardening from the stimulation. “So pretty baby, imma get you right for those 25 points, yeah?” she whispered, kissing the side of your face after. “Mmm please, want that so badly.” You said. Paige snuck her hand down to your core, middle finger running through your slit over your underwear, circling your clit slowly, teasing you. Your hips bucked up at the motion, the throbbing from your cunt evident now, you shut your eyes tight, begging, “Please P, I did so good for you.” Referring to the way you played. Paige continued her ministrations on your pussy through your underwear, whispering directly into your ear, “Poor baby, I’m sorry, jus’ look so pretty for me, like this.” She quickly gives in though, peeling your underwear down to your knees, you shoved them off the rest of the way. Her arm quickly found its way back around your throat, she moved her hand assertively, touching your inner thighs. Her fingers swipe quickly through your soaked slit, accumulating slick, using it to circle your clit. She moves down, pushing two fingers in you to the hilt, curling upwards and into the spot that turns your brain fuzzy. “Yeah ma, take that shit.” You respond with a moan, leaning your head back onto her shoulder, “Paigeeeeee, f-feels so good baby.” You manage to get out, Paige repeatedly switches between pushing into you and rubbing your clit. You’re close, and Paige knows you, so she knows you’re close too. As you teeter the brink of release, she pulls away, biting your ear as she does so. She unhooks your arm from around your neck, and you whine frustrated with the lack of release. Paige loved having you this way, needy, and her in control of when you released.

Paige’s hands engulfed your waist, moving you off her lap, you turned around, finding her shoving off her boxers. She looks at you with glazed blue eyes, “So fine ma, got me soaked.” She spread her legs, the soft glow of the hotel lamp showing the abundance of wetness between her legs. “Wan’ you to ride me, need that shit right on me.” She took your hands in hers. You hooked your right leg over her left, and your left under her right, shoving your slicked cores together. You both moan with satisfaction, letting out whines while Paige groans at the feeling. Her hands find home on your waist, and yours grip her biceps, arm not fitting into your palm. You grind faster onto her, the wetness between you two aiding you to do so. Your clits align with each other, sending relief throughout you, causing you to moan, loud. “Fuck, Paige.” you call out, keeping that same angle to where your clits are aligned. Paige’s mouth is open now, pink lips swollen, eyes fixated on where your cores meet. “Yeah, ma. Y’gonna gimmie that cum?” You nod, willing to do anything to get her to release. “Listen to that shit, all for me huh? Pretty pussy’s all mine?” Your eyes close, and you hear yourself gushing, wet sounds coming from the both of you, the “silence” gives you time to find words before you can say, “Yeah P, baby it’s all yours.” Paige hums with approval, noticing you close to release again, “Ma? Wanna feel that shit gushing on me.” You gasp, her downright dirty words fueling the feeling in your abdomen, “Gonna cum for you P, promise.” You keep grinding, digging into her arms. Then you feel it, your climax taking over, squirming against her. “Ohhhhh fuck baby.” Paige gets out, still chasing her climax. You whine, overstimulation quickly taking over the pleasure, but as you look up, you realize Paige yearning for her release, so you keep grinding. You bring your hands to her nipples, pulling on them. She grips your waist tighter, guiding your pussy onto hers. Combined stimulation between her pussy and nipples makes her cum, “Yeah ma, gonna give that shit to you, fuck.” Her words make you cum along with her, holding each other as you both ride out your highs.

You eventually open your eyes, finding yourself face to face with Paige, laying down. Her hand strokes your cheek, “Can’t go without you ma, gonna use all my flight points to fly you out to Dallas.” She promises, and you smile, because you know you can’t go without her either.

[st4rwritez]

can you please write morgan smut 🙏🙏

(Yess tysm for the requestt! I have had some ideas for this.) !! posting a request a day as i am entering finals week soon 😭😭 (pray for me last one) !!

A Hint of Jealousy

Morgan cheli x Reader

Summary: Morgan sees you model with another guy closely on your instagram and ends up jealous, taking it out on you in a way you have never seen her do before.

Summary: Smut w/ plot! Scroll if you don’t like that!

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚

Morgan had been your girlfriend for a year now and she was always the baby in the relationship, wether that meant she never got mad or never topped you .

You were out for the day at a photoshoot meaning you wouldn’t see morgan today, obviously it was disappointing but it was normal with your busy schedule as a model.

You got to the site you were shooting at and got dressed into a tan bikini with wavy stripes of sheer fabric covering most of your body.

The photoshoot was for an Italian fashion brand who were launching a new bikini and mens swim trunks line, so obviously your shoot partner was a male.

Although this irked you knowing you had a girlfriend back home, your agents worked hard to land you this photoshoot and rejecting it now would be “disastrous” as your agent has said before.

Before you knew it the shoot had started and you met the guy you were working with. He was the usual dark haired blue eyed muscular dude with a big ego that usually had some form of misogynistic beliefs even if he said he didn’t in front of media

Nonetheless you found your self sitting on a long stool with him for the look as if you were laying in water due to the backdrop. Bodies pressed together and faces serious as they could be in that moment.

The Camera flashed a few times before you ended up getting one by yourself (a relief) And watched as the other model had his 5 minutes of fame.

You got undressed and went onto the next area of the shoot where you wouldn’t have a partner anymore. Just single shots for the rest of the photoshoot.

At the end of the photoshoot you got dressed into your clothes and started your drive home.

While stopped at a light you saw the post from your agent of the photoshoot you did today posted 10 minutes ago and found a text from morgan from 5 minutes ago saying “Come to my room right after your shoot.”

It was a strange message to get from morgan considering she never texted like that. It was always sweet texts lined with hearts and loving words.

Worried, You put your phone down before the light turned green and made a turn at the green light to get to Morgans dorm.

You got there taking only your phone with you, putting it in the pocket of your sweatpants.

Walking into her hallway you reached her door taking out the spare key she had gave you at the beginning of the year when you first started dating.

“Morgan can i come in?” You asked knocking before unlocking the door.

Morgan opened it before you could and as you stepped in she grabbed you by your waist pulling you into her lightly.

“Morgan speak. Whats wrong baby. ” You said watching her close the door before she returned back to you laying a harsh kiss on your neck

The sleeves of her sweatshirt rubbing against your waist as she said “Where was my warning about that guy at the photoshoot today”

Thats when it hit you, She followed your agent on instagram and probably saw her post.

Before you could speak she had her arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a kiss stroking at your sides.

You let out a slight moan, Never in a million years would you think morgan would react in this way. And even if she was overreacting you couldn’t lie that you liked this side of her.

“He doesn’t get to touch you like this right?” She said trailing her hand around the waist band of your pants.

She carried you over to her creme colored couch placing a kiss on your temple before she let you down and went to take your sweat pants off.

“Are you okay with this baby?” she said

“Yes” you said nodding quickly.

Without a second to waist she swiftly pulled your sweat pants off discarding them somewhere before she started lightly rubbing over your clit through your underwear.

You let out a moan letting your head fall back as she turned you sideways on the couch so you could lay.

She pulled your underwear slightly to the side, sliding her fingers under the fabric as she teased your entrance making your legs jitter and your eyes roll back slightly.

“You like that?” She said looking up at you.

You shook your head yes “words baby, I bet he could never make you feel like this” She said as she roughly pushed two fingers into your entrance

A loud moan escaped your mouth before you managed to get out “no…never”

She fastened her speed pumping in and out of you as she hovered above you laying sloppy kisses on your face.

You felt your self coming close closing your eyes as your legs began to shake.

“No look at me baby or ill stop” she said as you pried your eyes open looking straight at her

“Im gonna come morgan.. please” you let out in a moan.

“Ok come for me sweetheart” she said working her fingers roughly in and out of you before you climaxed onto her fingers.

Morgan removed her fingers before going to wipe up her hands and bring a towel back to clean you

You took the towel cleaning yourself and putting your sweatpants back on before she tackled you into a hug cuddling you on the couch.

“You did so good baby I’m sorry for getting jealous” she said in a soft voice returning back to the soft morgan.

“Its okay morgie i enjoyed that” you said as she stroked your hair

“You’re mine you know that right?” She said looking at you

“Forever and always.” You said placing a kiss on her forehead.

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Sleepy Girl - p.b.

‣ paige bueckers x gf reader!

‣ wc: 2k of smut 😛

‣‣ synopsis: waking up in the morning horny and ur girlfriend is right there tbh (ending is kinda rushed and the fic is not yet edited so please bear with me)

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys... i know i completely ghosted this app for a good while but thank you for all the support even while i was MIA. this idea came to me at 11pm on vacation and i figured i should grind it out and make a return. i have a lot of drafts and ideas i came up with but no idea if i'll be able to write them all. in the meantime enjoy and happy holidays!

The warm sunlight spilling in to your bedroom and directly onto your face from the small gap in your curtains seemed to have it out against you.

It was one of the incredibly rare weekends of the season, where your girlfriend, Paige, didn’t have morning practice, lifting, or any PT sessions for residual pain after coming back home late from a basketball game (UConn won, obviously) and the two of you planned to make the most of it.

Having been in a relationship for almost a year now, the two of you had gotten to know each other pretty well over time. From working with the basketball team as a photographer to sharing a class with Paige, to running into each other literally everywhere every single day, metaphorically and physically, the universe seemed to have an intricate plan to bring the two of you together. And with such insistent force, who were the two of you to rebel?

The past ten months dating Paige had been a small roller coaster, the days spent together blissfully were obviously accompanied by the occasional argument of time management or messy rooms or even slight jealousy, but it was nothing the two of you couldn’t work through.

And of course, it was all accompanied by the mind blowing sex you couldn’t stop having. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the living room, standing up, from the back, you name it.

But, there was one thing you and Paige had discussed exploring, but never gotten the chance to pursue, and it seemed like this morning was the perfect chance to test it out.

Depending on who woke up first, the two of you often liked to wake the other up with gentle kisses, roaming hands, and sweet nothings. But your synced ovulation cycles brought on a new possibility: morning head.

Although the concept of fucking your girlfriend while she was asleep seemed… well, odd to say the least, the two of you had discussed consent extremely thoroughly, and you weren’t going to sit (or lay in this instance) here and pretend that the sight of Paige laying in your bed right now wasn’t actively turning you on.

She had come to your off campus apartment immediately after her game at XL center and crashed pretty fast, only stopping to shower change into an old, oversized yet cropped off the shoulder sweatshirt of yours and a pair of boxers she left in your drawers.

Currently, she was conveniently splayed out on her back, her left arm stretched above her head raised the hem of your sweatshirt upwards, exposing the curve of her chest and the slightest glimpse of her pink nipples, which were already slightly peaked from the cold air radiating from your fan.

It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind, softly crawling over to rest in between her legs as you leaned over her sleeping figure, using your left hand to gently lift the fabric over her perky tits, exposing her creamy skin to you. You slowly peppered kisses on her boobs, not wanting to create too much stimulation that would wake her before you got to the more exciting part. Although, you weren’t sure you would have to worry about that. Paige could sleep through a hurricane if she was tired enough.

You nipped and sucked at her chest, making sure to pay special attention to her nipples before beginning your descent down her toned abs, bringing your hands to rub at her thighs simultaneously.

Paige groaned softly in her sleep, unconsciously spreading her legs out wider as your fingers danced over the waistband of her boxers.

Deciding that there was no reason to be a tease, especially with the growing ache in between your own legs, you hooked your fingers in her boxers and pulled them downwards, being extremely careful when taking them off her body fully and throwing them off into a corner of your room.

You shift lower, aligning your face with Paige’s already wet cunt as you grip her thighs and blow into her folds lightly, gently arousing her.

You start softly, small kisses and hickeys leading inwards before you finally allow your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath slightly hitch.

Even in her sleep, Paige’s body was actively reacting to the growing pleasure as you circled her clit with your tongue and hummed into her, sending shockwaves running through her body, legs spreading, mouth dropping open with low moans, and back arching.

And yet, she was still asleep. You had no interest in waking her up forcefully, it would defeat the whole purpose of morning head. So, you dutifully detached your lips from her clit, opting to replace it with your thumb as you run your fingers through the slick she had accumulated before inserting your middle finger into her, curling it upwards in the way you knew she loved, which seemed to do the trick.

Her eyes began to flutter open the moment you added in your ring finger, mouth dropping with a groan as her right hand reaches out to cup the side of your face.

"Good morning," you rasp out, your breath hot against her sensitive cunt as you smirk at the already fucked out expression on her face.

"Fuck baby, God I didn’t think it would be this good when we talked about-”

Her sleepy whines were cut off with another loud moan as you reattached your lips to her clit, pressing into her g-spot with your fingers while simultaneously sucking her clit, small laughs vibrating through her core as you watched her body shudder at your actions. Her hand immediately moved up to your scalp, placing a firm grip in your head as she secured your spot deep between her legs, anchoring you in place.

"Aw shit ma, fuck you're so good at that, right there just like that, such a good fucking girl for me, don't stop mama you're gonna make me cum," her breathless rambles were endless as she used her left hand to play with her already exposed nipples.

The added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge, and it wasn't long before her muscular thighs began to shake around your head, closing around the sides of your face as she began to grind her hips into your mouth, chasing every second of her orgasm as her mouth hung open with cries.

She eventually let up after you finished licking her clean, even making a show of pulling your fingers out of her and sucking her juices off of them. Her gaze darkens as she pulls you up and over her body once again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

She nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, feigning annoyance in her tone. "As much as I loved the little stunt you pulled just now, shit pissed me off too. Brought this up in the first place cause I wanted to surprise you."

"Actin' like it's that big of a deal P, you can just do it a different morning," you teased, hand running up and down her side.

"Mm, whatever. All I care about right now is gettin' you right ma," she mumbles against your lips, reconnecting your lips as she slips her tongue into your mouth, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips into her at the same time.

"Nuh uh, it's your day to pillow princess. Lemme spoil you a little bit. You're still tired and sore from your game yeah? Besides, I have a better idea," you insisted, rising up and straddling her waist.

You shoved your sweater off her body before Paige's large hands pulled your grey tank top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere either of you couldn't be bothered to check. Her hand pressed into your mid back, forcing you to arch over her, conveniently placing your perky tits right over her mouth.

Her teeth scraped against your stiff peaks as her other hand, which had quickly returned to its place resting on your ass, began rocking your hips back and forth over her abs, drawing out deep sighs of pleasure from the multiple sources of friction and stimulation.

"Fuck Paige," you whined out, "why you gotta make it so hard for me to take care of you sometimes," you half-heartedly reprimanded, pinching her nipple roughly as you tore yourself away from her, shimmying your basically non-existent thong off as you resettled yourself in between her legs.

"Crawl up to the headboard," you demanded, raising your eyebrow at her inquisitive expression.

"Please," you added in with a soft pout, satisfied when she complied with your request. You eagerly followed her body, stationing your hands on her shoulders as you draped your right leg over her left, maneuvering her right in order to rest over your own left before gently lowering yourself down, hissing the moment your cores met.

You rolled your hips forward tentatively, moving your left hand down to Paige's right thigh while you sank forward, circling your other arm around her neck as you moaned against her lips.

The kiss was a needy, open mouthed mess of saliva and moans as you continued to roll your hips into Paige's with the help of her guiding hands, shocks of pleasure licking your spine every time your clits aligned.

As you approached closer to your orgasm, your head tipped back, mouth hung open with desperate, borderline pornographic whines constantly spilling out, impairing your ability to kiss Paige back. Though, she would never complain and simply kept her mouth busy by sucking hickeys along your neck and chest, whispering filthy words of encouragement into your skin.

"My girl's such a slut for me, huh? Riding me so good, pussy so wet she's dripping all over me, 's basically crying for me ma. You like that?"

Her gravely voice added to the fuzzy feeling that had taken over your brain, driven only by the tight coil threatening to snap any second in your belly. From the feeling of yours and Paige's warm slickness coating your entire cunt, to the deep throbbing you clit was experiencing.

You moved your left hand from Paige's thigh up to the headboard, using it to grind down harder against Paige's center, and the pressure on your clits had moans ringing out from both of you.

"God, Paige. So close baby, fuck I'm so close," you whined near incoherently, eyes screwed shut from the way your entire body was on fire, on the edge of immense pleasure.

She moved her mouth to the sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at the skin as she her fingers deftly began tweaking your nipples. "Cum for baby, give it to me. Please need it so bad."

You cry out as a freight train of an orgasm hits you, Paige's words and hands sending you over the edge, and the sight of you coming undone, not to mention the sounds you were letting out, left Paige no choice but to follow your lead.

Your body shuddered against hers, the pleasure slowly washing over you, leaving you breathless and extremely sensitive. You untangled your legs from Paige, collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her down with you.

You kissed her sweetly, intimately, a far cry from the sex you were just having.

"I love you so much you know that?" You muttered against Paige's lips, cracking your eyes open to see the lazy smile set on her face.

"I love you too, even though I'm pissed you stole my surprise," she whispered defiantly.

"What you don't think those two orgasms made up for it? We can go for round two if you really insist," you smirked, knowing that there was no way your body could handle another orgasm immediately.

Before she can even answer, your stomach growled loudly, inciting loud laughter from both of you.

"How about we take care of that first yeah? We can go for round two in the shower after breakfast," she responded slyly, pulling you up and out of bed with her to get dressed and have breakfast together. To you, nothing in the world could beat mornings like these with Paige.

[sierrale8ne]

Azzi with the lil horny chocolates perchance???

azzi fudd x fem!reader

nsfw // no use of y/n (ur welcome), bratty!switch!azzi, switch!reader, use of an aphrodisiac, dry humping, nipple play, fingering, oral, mirror sex, mommy kink, squirting, dirty talk.

“It’s been 15 minutes. Relax, Az.” You mumbled, your attention being on the homework assignment you had started hours ago.

Azzi had never been bratty, never one to steer your attention away from your job or schoolwork; because she too was a vey focused and driven individual. But these last couple days had been a completely different story.

She had, out of character of course, fell down an online rabbit hole, and came across some aphrodisiac chocolates. She’d never trust the words of an ad on TikTok, but seeing the reviews made her even more desperate to try it. You were also very welcome to the idea, brushing her off and telling her to do whatever she pleased. Whatever to make your girl happy.

When the chocolates arrived 15 minutes ago, Azzi was quick to head over to where you sat on her bed, plopping one dark chocolate square into her mouth and handing you the other, before splitting the third and final one.

“Did you even read how much we’re supposed to take.” You asked, eyes briefly leaving your computer to meet your girlfriend’s eager brown eyes.

“Yes.”

You gave her a look, a tilt of your head that told her you didn’t believe her.

“Okay no. But it doesn’t really matter, it’s supposed to be fun, and here you are worrying about instructions.” She rolled her eyes, telling you she would be going to take a quick shower before walking into the hallway and leaving you to continue on your school project.

That was 15 minutes ago, and though the package insinuated that it would take quite a while for the effects to hit in full, your girlfriend was already breathing heavy and desperate for your attention. Even more so than before.

She sat on her knees in front of you, an old P.E shirt covering her body that rode up at mid thigh. Azzi stared at you like she would die at any given moment without your attention. She called your name and your eyes briefly drifted towards her.

“I need you.” She responded to your earlier statement, “I don’t care how long it’s been. Touch me.”

“You’re sounding a bit bratty.” You teased, shutting the computer screen, moving it to her desk, and giving her a cunning smile. It was amusing to you, to see her like this. A look on her face that could really only be described as a pout, her recently trimmed hair framing her face in beautiful curls. She smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. “Those chocolates got you goin’?”

“I think you’re actually a sadist.” Azzi huffed, her shoulders slouching in mild disappointment.

What she didn’t know was just how much the chocolate was effecting you too. You were lucky that the clothes you wore concealed your arousal because underneath your sweatpants, your panties were completely soaked and your nipples were so hard underneath your tank top.

She pushed you back by your shoulders, forcing you to get comfortable against the headboard. Her legs swung over your body and she straddled you, softly grinding her hips against yours.

“You don’t want me?” Azzi pouted as she cupped your cheek, “not even a little bit?”

“I’m teaching you patience.” You pointed out, simultaneously contradicting that statement by grabbing her hips and forcing her down closer to you. Azzi’s scent was intoxicating, the active ingredients of the chocolate enhanced it too.

Your eyes dropped to her thighs, thick and muscular, that caged you in place. She reached out to grab your wrists, dragging your hands away from her waist as she pinned them to your sides. Her hips pressed downwards on you some more, grinding onto you with a feverous desire.

“That’s a shame, because I really want you, baby.” She started, looking into your eyes. “I want your to fuck me so bad.”

“Az—”

“There’s so much I want you to do to me, and you wanna talk to me about patience?” Azzi’s head tilted to the left, looking down at you with teasing doe eyes. “Can you please make me feel good, Mommy?”

Your hands instantly fought out of her grip, fingers reaching out to pull on her t-shirt hem; playing with the fabric between your fingers. “Take this off.” You instructed and immediately, Azzi began shedding the shirt. Your jaw dropped and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you got a look at her tits staring right back at you. Her tanned stomach toned even more with the weight lifting she’d been doing.

She brought her hands to her tits, gripping them in her hands. She let out a teasing moan, much to your amusement. “I need you.”

“I know.” You nodded, reaching to peel her hands away from herself. You moved your lips to the center of her chest, littering soft kisses before cupping one of her breasts. “Prettiest fucking titties. You look so good, baby.”

Your lips attached to her nipple, tongue swirling around it as you looked up into her eyes. Her lip found its way between her teeth, desperately rutting her hips against you some more. Her clit was throbbing against you, leaving a slight wet patch on the material of your sweats.

You detached yourself from her chest, paying attention to her other nipple. Your tongue lolled out, swirling around it nastily. Her chest was covered in your saliva, her nipples even more swollen than they were before. You tugged on the front of her panties the lace immediately getting caught between her folds, making her moan out.

“Shit, gimme more. More, baby, please.”

“Mmm take these off and sit back against me.” You instructed, pulling back from her nipple with a bite. “Hurry up.” To left her with a slight slap to her thigh watching as she hopped off of the bed and slid her panties down her long legs.

Azzi pulled her hair into a low ponytail, before sitting back onto the bed and pressing her back up against your bra clad chest. Your bodies were glued together as you sat on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed daintily. You leaned into her neck, pressing needy kisses against her neck as your own pussy throbbed from her warmth.

“Tell me what you want.” You spoke into her ear, looking at her through the mirror in front of her bed. Your hands pried her legs apart draping them each over your own thighs.

“Fingers.” She responded. Her head frustratingly fell back onto your shoulder. “Wanna feel ‘em inside me. Please.” She begged, her hips circling in place.

You brought your middle and ring finger to your mouth, they sat heavy on your tongue as you wet them with saliva. You were genuinely salivating at the sight of her spread out for you in such a manner. You could easily see her through the mirror, legs spread as wide as they could go but her folds were what caught your attention.

Azzi was so wet, the slick that accumulated slipped past her enterance and onto the sheets. You’d never seen her like this before. Those chocolates might have to be purchased again.

You let out a chuckle around your fingers before slipping them out of your mouth. Your wet fingers trailed down her body, stopping to briefly circle her nipples before they finally reached her clit. You could feel the way Azzi’s body trembled against your own, heating up against your exposed stomach.

Your fingers spread her open before dipping into her warmth. Azzi’s jaw fell just slightly, eyes closed. A deep guttural moan left her lips while you slowly pumped your fingers in and out of her.

“So tight, Az.” You teased, knowing that the vulgarity of your words would bring a blush to her face. “Just wanted me in this pussy so bad, huh?” You cooed into her ear.

“Yes, so bad— fuck!” She moaned. Her legs subconsciously spread wider, allowing you more room to push your fingers into her. Azzi’s pretty painted nails dug into your thigh, her chest rapidly rising and falling as you sped up.

“You look so perfect, baby. Look.” You instructed, a hand griping her chin and forcing her head back down to meet the mirror.

Her eyes attempted to look anywhere but at herself, but the grip you had on her face stopped that from happening. “Such a desperate fuckin’ slut for it. You wanna cum don’t you, baby?”

“‘M gonna cum. Please, mommy, let me.” She whined, her hips slightly humping up against your hand.

Your fingers curled, Azzi let out a loud moan in response. Your fingers hit that one spot over and over again before slipping out and coating her clit in her own slick. They pushed back in harshly, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you.

“Aww, already?” You teased. “But I just started with you.”

“Mommy, I’m— uh fuck! Fuck, let me cum!” She hiccuped.

“Do it, Az. Let me have it, baby.” You nodded eagerly, agreeing to her request.

She whimpered and cried out your name as her orgasm washed over her. Her juices squirting out of her fast and hot against your hand and the mirror in front of you both. Your eyes damn near glazed over. Azzi’s body trembled against you and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Good girl. So good for me, princess.” You whispered, kissing her temple as she recovered. You pulled your fingers out before bringing them to her parted lips. She eagerly opened her mouth more, groaning at her own taste as her lips clamped around your fingers. “Dirty girl.”

Her head bobbed submissively as she sucked them clean. Saliva dripped down your hand when you pulled it away. You were so enthralled by it you didn’t even notice how she shakily stood up and pushed you back against the bed. Her hands eagerly grabbed at your sweats, pulling them down along with your underwear.

“Jesus, Az. Is this payback?” You wondered, referring to her sudden shift in energy.

“Not yet.” She replied. Her hands roughly gripped your hips and put you on your hands and knees, back arched perfectly for her. “I just wanna make you feel good, mommy.” Azzi admitted.

Her hands palmed your ass in her hands, she spread you apart and licked her lips when she got a look at how wet you were. “Tryna pretend like you don’t feel anything. Just look at that.” She giggled, shaking her head.

“Azzi, I gave you what you want. So use your mouth, or back u— ah!” You squealed when she cut you off with her lips attacking your cunt. The wetness pooling on her tongue as she collected it and spat it back onto your pussy.

The mixture ran through your pussy, compiling at your clit before dropping on the bed. It was sinful. Her thumb felt through your folds as she collected the sticky substance on it.

“Such a pretty pussy, mommy. And you taste so fuckin’ good.” Azzi praised. Her face dived back in, nearly suffocating herself in your cunt as she nose prodded against your other hole.

You didn’t even notice how you began to push back onto her, forcing her tongue deeper and deeper into you. She ate you like a last meal, like she’s been dreaming about it for days; and she really has.

“Azzi. Uh fuck, baby. Don’t stop.” You groaned, your sounds muffled by the sheets which you gripped harshly.

By now you were practically fucking her face, pushing back and suffocating between your legs. She pulled back breathlessly and pushed her thumb back to your clit to keep you stimulated.

“Azzi.” You pouted, missing the feel of her tongue already.

She smirked behind you. Her eyes watched as your cunt pleaded for more, more anything that she was obviously neglecting. “You gotta tell me how bad you want it.”

“You said this wasn’t payback.”

“I said not yet, sweetheart.” Azzi cooed. Her hand dropped from your pussy, sinfully smiling at your whining. “I’m not asking. I’ll take care of you, you just gotta beg for it, mommy.”

Your breath hitched. “Please.”

“Aww you can do better than that, baby.” Her hand caressed your ass, distracting you before she gave it a harsh slap. “I don’t have all day.”

“Fuck— please, please touch me. I want your tongue, Az. Wanna cum on your face.” You begged, legs slightly trembling as you looked back at her.

She nodded. Her hands spread your ass again, leaving a quick and surprising kiss on your other hole before making her way back to your cunt. “See it wasn’t so hard.”

Her mouth attached to your clit again. She sucking it into her mouth violently, her tongue flicking it over and over and over again until without warning your cum spilled out of you and coated her tongue. She groaned happily, licking it all up and swallowing everything you gave her.

“Azzi, shit!” You cried, pulling away from her mouth and collapsing face first onto the bed. You could hear her laughter behind you as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her body pressed against your back, mouth approaching you ear.

“You tired?” She teased.

And within seconds your exhaustion faded and you pulled Azzi back into the bed, switching spots with you while you looked in the nearby dresser drawer for the next toy you would use to break her apart.

author’s note gf azzi fudd 😍😍 ugh someone tell paige to come off of this one please!! yes it’s unedited, yes there are grammar and spelling mistakes, no idgaf <3

[cosmopretty-deactivated20260301]

꣑୧ summary— Your girlfriends Paige and Azzi get jealous when your hanging out with the team, because KK has a little crush on you so they have to show you who you belong too

warnings: pussy eating, threesome, edging, use of strap on, mommy kink, belly bulge

Sitting on the couch next to one of your girlfriend’s teammates, KK you and her are watching TikTok’s together on her phone. While she tries to sneakily wrap her arm around you, pretending to sneeze she wraps her arm around your shoulders while Paige sucks her teeth her hand squeezing Azzi’s so tight the girl thought it was about to fall off, but she couldn’t focus on that only on how their teammate was touching you.

Looking back at your girlfriends you already know you’re going to be in for it, with the look on their faces.

KK looks over at you and smiles “Your so pretty it’s really unreal” she compliments you. Letting out an uncomfortable laugh you thank you, it wasn’t that KK made you uncomfortable it was the how you could feel the stare of your girlfriends on the side of your head.

Before KK can talk again Azzi stands up “I’m really tired so maybe it’s time for everyone to go” she says ushering the girls out of her apartment. KK groans and gets up and the three of you say goodbye to everybody, a certain teammate named Kamorea gives you a hug for a little too long to Paige and Azzi’s liking. Laughing Paige pulls KK off of you and pushes her out the door lightly “BYE SEE YALL AT PRACTICE SAFTEY” she yells before closing the door.

You stare up at the two of them your eyes wide “Go to the room and get on the bed naked” Paige commands not even looking at you. Your eyes fall to Azzi who nods and motions to the bedroom.

Walking into the bedroom you strip off your clothes and sit on the edge of the bed waiting for them. As they walk in you look up at Paige and she stands between your legs her hand on your jaw “Now answer me baby why did you let KK talk to you and touch you like that?” she asks a bit to calmly so you know something is up with her.

“Uhm I didn’t do anything back and I want your teammates to like me” You respond staring up at her as her hand squeezes your jaw.

Paige rolls her eyes walking away from you “Like you a bit too much” she says under her breath. Azzi walks over to you pushing you down on the bed her clothes long gone.

Getting on top of you the girl looks down at you “Who do you belong to sweet girl?” Azzi asks you her hand coming to hold the side of your cheek.

“You and Paige, always” You mumble turning your head seeing Paige walk in a familiar strap around her waist. Azzi climbs off of you and sits down on the bed smirking as Paige flips you onto your stomach.

Paige’s hands hold both your hips “Your our girl not KK’s or anyone else’s, only ours” she says before pushing the strap into you without warning.

You gasp at the stretch your hands coming to hold onto the pillow, Azzi moves to sit in front of you, her thighs around your head. She pouts looking down at you as Paige thrusts into you, fast without faltering “Come on baby eat your mommy’s pussy” she tells you her hand holding onto the back of your head, pushing you into her.

Before you can even respond your head is being shoved into her cunt, the words you were going to say muffled by her body. Paige laughs at you as your hands fly to Azzi’s thighs trying to ground yourself. The blonde reaches down and grabs both your hands holding them behind your back “Nuh uh bad girls don’t get to touch” she says pushing her weight onto your hands that she was holding on your back to make you fall flat on your stomach as she starts to push herself deeper inside you.

The deeper she pushed the strap into you, the closer she got to Azzi, she brings the curly haired girl into a kiss as she moans. Your tongue circles her clit as you feel Paige still inside you right when you were about to cum. Opening your eyes you look up seeing the two causing your body to get hot. There was nothing hotter than your two strong girlfriends making out, fighting for dominance.

Pulling away from the kiss Paige looks down at your cooing “Aww poor baby feeling left out huh” she says and Azzi’s hand in your hair pulls your head back so you can answer.

“Yes Paige” You mumble the strap still inside you stretching you out as she stays still inside you. Sucking her teeth she leans back still holding your hands behind your back “Now your gonna eat your mommy’s pussy till she cums like a good girl then I’ll let you cum” she tells you before pushing you back down on the mattress.

Your tongue licks through her folds, as her hands fly back to your hair. You start to suck on her clit “Good girl baby keep going” Azzi praises you her hands squeezing your hair. You feel Paige behind you one of her hands rubbing circles on your hip, not moving the strap inside you even though you needed to cum more than anything.

Continuing to please the girl you feel her thighs start to squeeze around you, a sign she was about to cum. So you suck on her clit harder until she’s cumming on your face. Her thighs falls slack no each side of you as she breathes heavily petting your hair back “Good job baby— made me feel so good” she tells you bringing your head up to look at her, you smile.

For a moment you forgot about Paige behind you until you feel her pull herself out of you, then flipping you onto your back. Your head lands on Azzi’s abs as Paige smirks down at you “Your mine baby mine and Azzi’s forever” she says looking down at you.

She runs the strap through your folds teases you before plunging herself back into you, her hips snapping back and forth as she fucks you. Immediately you feel your stomach tighten and a band start to form from before “Fu-fuck Paige” you moan your head falling back. Azzi’s hand comes to hold your neck, rubbing the side of it keeping you in place.

Paige’s strap hits that sweet spot inside of you, that makes your stomach tighten. Feeling your thighs start to shake Paige’s hand pushes down on the bulge in your stomach “See how deep inside you I am princess” she says bringing your hand to the bulge making you feel it.

Your walls tighten around her strap as you feel how deep she really is. She speeds up her thrusts her hips hitting yours as she pushes into you “Come on baby cum for me” Paige says watching as your jaw falls slack as you cum all over her strap, the band in your stomach breaking.

Paige pulls out of you slowly before standing up and taking the strap off, putting it on the floor. She climbs back into bed with you and Azzi and your body lays limp after you cum.

Azzi pulls you up so your back is against her chest her big hand rubs your stomach “You feeling okay baby?” she asks you her voice a whisper.

You nod “Yeah I like when yall are jealous the sex is good” you joke breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath after you came.

The blonde grabs your chin and makes you look at her “Don’t get any ideas next time we won’t be so nice” she reprimands you.

Kissing your cheek Azzi looks over at Paige interlocking her fingers with the blondes “Now which one of us is talking to KK?” the curly haired girl asks her thumb rubbing your stomach.

You lay on Azzi relaxing as the two of them talk about how to get KKs crush on you to disappear because you were their girl and no one else’s, and that’s how you liked it.

[cosmopretty-deactivated20260301]

Intertwined

synopsis: You accidentally walk in on two of your best friends, who are in a relationship fucking. But what happens when they want you to join them?

warnings:

Tonight you were coming over to Paige and Azzi’s apartment to watch some movies with them, since they invited you earlier. The three of you were very close with one another, especially since Paige and Azzi were dating. Over time you grew to have feelings for both of the girls, but you never acted on them since you didn’t want to hurt their relationship or ruin your friendship.

Knocking on the door to their apartment no one answers so you open it and walk in. They usually let you just walk into their place, Azzi even gave you keys but you didn’t use them much. Looking around the place you don’t spot either of the girls so you go to their room and without thinking you open the door.

There they were Paige on top of Azzi kissing her as her fingers were buried deep inside the girl, most of their clothes off. You freeze unmoving as you watch them in shock, you don’t know whether you were turned on or disgusted in yourself for watching them. Turning around you go to close the door before you hear Paige behind you.

“Where you going baby? Thought you wanted to watch” The blonde says moving off of Azzi, sticking her two fingers in her mouth sucking the girls juices off of them.

You turn around in shock “Uhm- sorry I didn’t- sorry” you stutter looking at the two of them your mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Azzi groans “You didn’t let me finish” she says towards Paige who took her fingers out of the girl before she could cum.

The blonde shrugs“Don’t blame me, we were interrupted” she says before looking back at you in the door.

You fiddle with your hands “I’ll-uh I’ll go so-sorry” you stutter turning around to leave before Paige gets up coming up behind you. Her arms wrap around your waist picking you up, she throws you down next to Azzi on the bed.

“No baby you don’t get to leave you gotta finish Azzi off, she deserves that after you interrupted us” Paige says her hand rubbing your thigh.

Looking back and forth between the two in shock you furrow your brows “Wait what?” you ask confused.

Azzi laughs “Poor baby can’t even understand” she mocks you pouting. Paige smirks and moves her hand up your thigh to the hem of your shorts, she loops her fingers in them.

“I need you to say you want this because we won’t do anything unless you want it” Paige tells you sincerely, Azzi’s hand comes and rubs your back waiting for your response.

Since you met the two of them you wanted them, you never thought in a million years that they would want you back. You nod your head swallowing “Yes I want this but I don’t think I could take it if it’s only a one night stand” you admit.

The blonde scoffs “Come on you can’t tell me you didn’t know we had feelings for you” she mumbles to you.

Shrugging your shoulders you bite back a smile “I mean I liked you both but I thought was delusional” you mumble back before Azzi pushes you down on your back and kisses you.

Her lips mesh with yours as she takes control of the kiss, her hand holding your neck lightly to keep you in place.

Pulling away from the kiss she smiles “Now you gonna make me cum or not baby?” she asks.

You nod your head enthusiastically as Paige starts to strip you of your clothes “Let’s get this off” she mumbles. Once your clothes are gone and you left in just a pair of black lacey panties in front of the two “Fuck you’re so beautiful” Paige tells you kissing your shoulder as she sits behind you.

You blush staring down at Azzi as Paige moves your body like a doll to lay down in front of her girlfriend. Moving your head closer to Azzi you turn your head to look at Paige but before you can her hand grasps the back of your head and shoves you down into Azzi.

Paige’s hand controls your movements as you lick and suck at Azzi’s clit. The girl moans her abs flexing as waves a pleasure wash over her. Her thighs wrap around your head as you push your tongue inside of her. Her legs start to shake, since she was denied her orgasm by Paige she was about to cum faster than before.

Azzi moans “Fuck-fuck baby” she gasps feeling her stomach tighten, you go back to sucking on her clit, moving back and forth between her clit and her hole. Paige watches as her girlfriend crumples “I’m gonna cum” Azzi moans out before letting go, coating your face in her cum.

Finally letting go of your head Paige smirks kissing Azzi as you sit up wiping your mouth. Paige turns around and kisses you two, her hand coming to the back of your head once more pulling you into her.

She’s pushes you down on your back and climbs on top of you, she pulls away from the kiss and breathes heavily on top of you. Azzi’s hand comes to rubs down your chest “You did so good for me baby, think you deserve a reward huh” Azzi tells you finger ghosting over your nipple causing it to harder under her touch.

Paige slowly pulls your panties down throwing them somewhere in their room. Both her strong hands push open your thighs “Hmm you want me to touch you princess?” Paige asks you moving up your body to kiss you once more, her hands still on your thighs.

“Please Paige please” You beg her after pulling away from the kiss. She moves one of her hands to rub through your folds “Fuck your so wet, come feel her Az” she says rubbing your slick.

Said girl moves her hands down from your chest to your pussy, she follows Paige’s fingers and collects your slick on her fingers “Damn eating me out made you that wet baby” she teases you before bringing her finger to her mouth.

Paige slowly pushes two of her fingers into you, stretching you out “Your so tight” she groans pushing them all the way into you.

Your gummy walls suck her in as she starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, going deep inside you. Her long fingers hit that spot inside you that make you see stars, you moan when her finger curl inside you.

Azzi moves her head down and starts to kiss down your neck, leaving wet kisses. Her mouth travels down to your chest and she starts sucking on your boobs. Paige starts thrusting her fingers faster inside you.

A loud whine leaves your lips when Azzi’s mouth wraps around you nipple. Paige smirks and shoves her fingers deeper inside you hitting your g spot.

“F-fuck I’m close— please, please” You beg out of breath, breathing heavily your mind filling the room.

Your gummy walls start to tighten around her fingers, your voice cracking “P-please” you beg her once again, your mind not even comprehending your words.

A smirk comes onto Paige’s face “Come on princess cum for me” she tells your moving her head down to suck on your clit. Azzi moves away from your chests and comes to kiss you.

Her lips swallow your moans as your head falls back against the pillow. Azzi pulls away from the kiss and starts kissing down your neck leaving hot kisses all over.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you come undone on Paige’s fingers. Her fingers slow down inside you, fucking you through your high. She pulls away from your clit and moves up your body kissing you as she pulls her fingers completely out of you.

“That-that was amazing” You mumble breathlessly lying down against the mattress between the two girls.

Azzi’s hand comes to cradle your cheek, caressing the soft skin “You have no idea how long we wanted that baby” she says.

You nod your head “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you both” you counter her words a smile planted on your face.

Paige smiles leaning over your shoulder “Oh we knew you were so obvious, your blushing, the way you spoke to us, how looked up at us with your fuck me eyes. Trust me baby we knew” she tells you kissing under your ear before biting down slightly.

Your hands come to cover your face, embarrassed. Azzi pulls your hands away “Don’t be embarrassed baby it was cute” she comforts you.

Paige looks between the two of you “Round two?” she asks sitting up on the bed her hands coming to one of your thighs and one of Azzi’s.

[lupinqs]

GHOSTFACE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: after a kill, paige decides she needs to fuck you senseless.

☆ ━ word count: 8.3K

☆ ━ warnings: sexual content (absolute pure filth, dom!paige, kinda bratty!reader, choking, blood kink, knifeplay, oral, fingering), oh yeah also murder

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my halloween treat for you 🍬😜 on a serious note tho this is actually the freakiest nastiest shit i’ve ever written idk wtf i was on

THE CAR idles in the dark, the soft hum of the engine barely cutting through the late-night quiet of Storrs. You sit in the driver’s seat, the burner phone in your lap, your fingers drumming against the wheel as you steal a glance at the clock. It’s past midnight, the world outside wrapped in a blanket of stillness, but your heart is anything but calm. The recent killings on campus have the entire student body on edge, but no one would ever guess that the two of you—the school’s sweetheart basketball star and her quiet, unsuspecting girlfriend—are the ones behind it all.

Tonight, though, has a different kind of energy. It’s not just about the kill. It’s about what came before. Paige is sitting next to you in the passenger seat, her Ghostface costume on, the long black cloak pooling around her legs. Her game-day braids are still tied back into a ponytail, her skin still glowing with the leftover adrenaline from the UConn game earlier tonight. She’d killed it on the court—led the team to another win, the crowd chanting her name as she drained shot after shot.

Now, she’s about to kill in a very different way.

You feel a surge of excitement just thinking about it—about how she can seamlessly transition from the basketball star everyone worships to this… to your partner in something darker, something the two of you have created and mastered together. You’ve always been the one with the words, the voice on the phone that lures them in, taunting them, teasing them, until Paige steps in and finishes the job. She’s the executioner, but you set the stage.

“Still riding that high, huh?” you tease, your voice soft but playful as you glance over at her. You can see it in the way her leg bounces slightly, the leftover buzz of the game still coursing through her.

Paige turns to you, a smirk playing on her lips. “Can’t help it. We crushed ‘em tonight.” She adjusts the mask in her lap, her eyes flickering with excitement that’s just as much about what’s to come as it is about the win she’s still basking in. “You saw that last block, right? Perfect.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, it was good.”

She grins, her confidence practically radiating off her. It’s the same look she wears after every game—this electric mix of pride and hunger for more. But tonight, there’s a sharper edge to it, a different kind of hunger simmering beneath the surface. One that only you know about.

Paige leans over suddenly, her hand grabbing your jaw, pulling you into her, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s rough, heated. You kiss her back, matching her intensity, the burner phone nearly slipping from your lap as your hand grips the back of her neck. The adrenaline from the night, from her win, from the secret you both share—it all mixes into a heady, intoxicating rush.

She pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, her voice low and teasing. “Wish me luck, baby.”

Her smirk is wicked as she slips the Ghostface mask over her head, the familiar face now staring back at you. It’s eerie, unnerving—everything it’s supposed to be—but you know who’s behind it. Paige.

The sound of the car door opening is the only thing that breaks the silence as Paige steps out, her black cloak trailing behind her as she disappears into the night.

You wait a few moments, scrolling through your phone before deciding to get out. The door slams shut behind you with a sharp, metallic thud that echoes through the quiet night. The cold Connecticut wind bites at your face as you step away from the car, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. It’s freezing tonight, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones and lingers, but the thrill, the adrenaline of what’s about to happen, keeps you warm enough.

You shove your hands into your pockets, walking slowly toward the edge of the building. The apartment complex looms ahead, its brick exterior cold and silent, with only a few lights flickering from various windows. Your breath fogs up in the night air as you circle around, your shoes scraping against the asphalt, the distant sounds of traffic muffled by the wind.

You reach the back of the building, your body finding refuge against the brick wall. The rough texture scratches through your jacket as you lean against it, glancing around to make sure no one’s nearby. You’re careful, always careful. This isn’t your first time doing this, after all.

Paige is inside, probably already climbing the stairs, making her way to the bartender’s apartment. You can imagine her slipping through the shadows, as quiet and deadly as she is on the court, that same fierce determination in her eyes.

You pull a cigarette from your pocket, slipping it between your lips before lighting it, the flame briefly illuminating your face before you inhale deeply. The smoke curls in the cold air, the familiar burn in your lungs settling you, grounding you. This part of the night is always the same—the waiting. But it’s also the part you’ve come to appreciate. The anticipation, the patience it takes. You wait for Paige’s text, the one that’ll let you know she’s in position, ready for you to make the call.

The call that’ll lure tonight’s target straight into her arms.

The bartender. You think back to that night, just a few days ago, when you and Paige were out with her team. It was supposed to be a fun night, just you, Paige, and the rest of the girls, celebrating another win. Paige had been in her usual form—confident, charismatic, drawing everyone’s attention like she always does. But then she came into the picture. The fucking bartender.

The girl had been pouring drinks all night, flirting shamelessly with Paige, making little comments, smiling at her in a way that made your blood boil. Paige had stayed cool, giving her those polite but dismissive smiles, her arm draped around your waist as if to make it clear. But the bartender either didn’t care or didn’t notice, and it had pissed you off. You could tell Paige had noticed too, the way she tightened her grip on you, the way her eyes flicked to yours whenever the girl leaned in too close.

And, later that night, after a few drinks, the two of you had ended up in the bathroom, making out against the sink. Paige had been rougher than usual, her hands gripping your hips, her lips almost bruising yours, and in the heat of it, she’d pulled back, breathless, and whispered, “You wanna kill her?”

You hadn’t hesitated. Of course you wanted to kill her.

So, tonight, here you are. The plan is simple—Paige gets in, finds her, and you make the call. Then, Paige does what she does best. Only tonight, there’s something different. Paige had promised that you’d get the final stab. The last touch, the one that seals the deal, making it yours too.

You take another drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly, your eyes scanning the street. Everything is still, nothing but the occasional flicker of movement behind closed windows. The night is quiet, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for what’s about to unfold.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a thrill shoot up your spine. You pull it out and glance at the screen.

It’s Paige.

One word: Ready.

Your heart skips a beat, the cigarette forgotten as you flick it away, crushing it under your heel. Showtime. You slide the phone back into your hand, dialing the bartender’s number. It rings once, twice, before the click of the line picking up fills your ear. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint sound of background noise—some low music, maybe the TV—and then her voice comes through, light and unexpectedly cheery for how late it is.

“Hello?” The bartender’s tone is casual, friendly, like she’s used to people calling her at odd hours. It’s clear she’s not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

You suppress a grin, knowing exactly where this is headed. You always start the same way—light, teasing, pretending to be someone she might actually want to talk to. And as always, you speak through the voice changer, your voice distorted into something deeper, something unrecognizable.

“Hey,” you say, the voice changer making you sound almost playful. “You still up?”

There’s a pause on the other end, like she’s trying to place your voice. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Who’s this?”

You lean back against the wall, settling into your role. “Just someone who noticed you the other night. Thought I’d give you a call. You just started bartending, right? At Ted’s?”

Another pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in her head. “Oh,” she says after a moment, her tone picking up with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you get my number?”

You chuckle, low and smooth, keeping your tone flirtatious. “Got my ways.”

She laughs softly, clearly entertained. “Well, I guess you’re resourceful, huh? What’s your name?”

You sidestep the question, keeping her engaged, knowing that she’ll follow along if you give her just enough. “What’s yours?” you ask instead, turning it around on her.

She laughs again, a little softer this time, and you can picture her sitting up, maybe twirling her hair or playing with her phone. “Kelsey,” she offers.

“Kelsey,” you repeat, letting her name roll off your tongue, the voice changer making it sound almost sinister, but not enough for her to notice—yet. “Pretty name. You’re pretty good at pouring drinks too.”

She snorts. “Well, thanks. I do my best. You one of my regulars or something?”

You let the silence hang for a beat, then reply, “You could say that. I saw you with your hands all over that blonde girl the other night. What was her name? Paige?”

There’s a shift in her tone now, a slight hesitation. “Oh… yeah, I remember her,” she says, her voice a bit more careful, like she’s suddenly unsure of where this conversation is going. “You friends with her or something?”

You can feel her starting to get a little uneasy, and it makes you smile, the thrill of it building in your chest. You lean forward slightly, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Something like that,” you say, your voice low now, more serious. “You were really bold, flirting with her like that, Kelsey. I gotta say, I don’t think she appreciated it. And I definitely didn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence. A longer one this time. And when she speaks again, there’s a trace of nervous laughter in her voice. “Okay, uh… who the hell is this?”

You can hear her trying to play it off, but there’s a flicker of panic underneath. She’s starting to realize this isn’t a joke. This isn’t some casual late-night flirtation.

“You don’t remember me?” you ask, sounding almost innocent. “I was there that whole night.”

Her breath catches, and then she laughs again, this time more forced, trying to regain control. “Alright, this is getting weird,” she says. “I’m gonna hang up now—”

“Don’t.” Your voice cuts through sharply, commanding, and you hear the soft gasp she makes on the other end. “Don’t you fucking dare hang up.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of her breathing, shaky now, uneven. You can almost see her, sitting in her apartment, probably looking around, trying to figure out if this is a prank, if someone’s watching her. You know the thoughts running through her head. You’ve seen it all before.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but—”

“I want you to stay on the phone,” you interrupt, your voice laced with cold amusement. “You’ve been real fun to talk to so far, Kelsey. Don’t ruin it now.”

You hear her exhale sharply, the panic setting in for real now. “This isn’t funny, okay? Just—just leave me alone, or I’m calling the cops.”

“Go ahead,” you say casually, starting to grin. “Call them. Tell them someone’s watching you.”

Her breath hitches again, and you can hear the unmistakable tremor in her voice. “Watching me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your smile widens. “Sweetheart,” you say softly, almost kindly, “I can see you.”

A small, broken gasp escapes her, and you hear her scramble, probably getting off the couch, rushing to lock her door or check her windows. The desperation in her voice is thick now. “Where are you? Where the fuck are you?”

You pause for just a second, letting the tension build, before finally answering, “Right behind you.”

There’s a crash on the other end of the line, followed immediately by a scream that’s cut short. You hear the sound of a body hitting the floor, the unmistakable sound of the phone dropping, and then—

The pleading starts.

“Please, no—no—” Kelsey’s voice is choked, panicked, and you can hear her gasping for air, her words coming out in sobs now. You can picture it perfectly—Paige towering over her, the blade glinting in the dim light of the apartment. The sound of a struggle follows, Kelsey’s voice growing more desperate, more terrified. “Please! I—”

And then the first stab.

It’s a wet, sickening sound, the blade sinking into flesh. Kelsey’s scream is sharp, but it quickly turns into a gargle as blood fills her throat. You hear her choking, trying to speak, to beg. There’s more stabbing, more squelching, before it stops, and all you can hear are weak, broken sobs.

For a few more seconds, there’s nothing but shuffling, the sound of Paige moving around, and then—quiet.

You wait, holding your breath, the anticipation still thrumming through you, until finally, you hear her voice. Paige’s voice, smooth, confident, and a little out of breath.

“Baby,” she says, and you can practically hear her smile through the phone, “you can come on up here now. She’s ready for you.”

You hang up before beginning to walk, keeping your pace quick as you stride into the apartment building. You’re trying to be fast—you don’t want her to fucking bleed out and die before you can finish her off.

The elevator ride up to her floor feels agonizingly slow, your foot tapping impatiently against the metal floor. When you finally reach her door, you stop for a second, taking a breath, checking the number to make sure it’s the right one. Your fist raises, knocking once—sharp and deliberate.

The door swings open almost immediately, and there she is—Paige, standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the dim apartment lights. She’s still wearing the Ghostface costume, though the mask dangles casually from her hand now. Her braids, still in that game-day ponytail, are a little mussed, strands sticking out here and there, but it only adds to the chaotic allure of her right now. There’s blood splattered across her face, stark against her skin, and across her clothes too. She hasn’t even bothered to clean it up yet, and God, you can’t help but think she looks so fucking hot.

Her eyes are gleaming, and there’s that familiar smirk on her lips, a wild energy simmering underneath her calm exterior. She steps aside, motioning you inside with an almost nonchalant flick of her hand, like she’s inviting you into some casual dinner party, not a murder scene.

“Come on in,” Paige murmurs, her voice low, still tinged with excitement.

You step inside, your shoes making soft thuds against the hardwood floor. As you move past her, you catch the faintest whiff of blood—coppery, metallic—and it sends a rush through you, like a shot of adrenaline straight to your veins. Paige closes the door behind you, and you take in the scene in front of you.

Kelsey is on the floor, twitching in agony, her body twisted at an unnatural angle. She’s choking on her own blood, gasping and gargling as it pools in her mouth, her eyes wide with terror and pain. It’s clear she’s still alive, but just barely. Paige has done her job, but she’s left enough for you to finish.

Paige steps up behind you, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. “She’s all yours,” she whispers, pressing the bloody knife into your hand. The blade is still warm, slick with Kelsey’s blood, and the weight of it in your hand sends a thrill through you.

You take the knife, your fingers tightening around the hilt as you approach Kelsey’s broken, twitching form. Her eyes, glazed over with fear and pain, manage to lock onto yours as you kneel beside her. The sound of her labored breathing is all you can hear, the wet gurgle of blood in her throat. You smile down at her, a sweet, almost tender expression crossing your face.

“Hi, Kelsey,” you say softly, your voice gentle, as if you’re greeting an old friend.

You think you hear her try to form the word please, but it’s lost in the thick, choking blood that fills her throat. Her body jerks slightly, like she’s trying to move, trying to plead, but it’s useless now.

You bring the knife to her face, the tip of the blade tracing lightly along her cheek, not even hard enough to cut. It’s almost affectionate, the way you drag the metal across her skin. But then, with a quick, practiced motion, you bring the knife down to her throat, slitting it cleanly, efficiently. There’s a brief spray of blood—splashing up onto your face—as her body convulses once, twice, and then slumps against the floor, lifeless.

“Fucking bitch,” you mutter under your breath, watching the last bit of life drain from her body. You stay there for a moment, just staring at her, taking in the scene—the blood, the broken, twisted limbs, the silence that settles over the room now that she’s dead.

You’re still staring when you feel Paige behind you again, pulling you up to stand. Her hands slide around your waist, her front pressing against your back. One of her big hands splays across your stomach, holding you close, while her other finds your wrist, gently taking the knife from your hold.

“That was so hot, baby,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with admiration and lust, her breath right against your ear.

You lean back into her touch, your body relaxing against hers as she starts to pepper soft kisses along your neck, her lips trailing up your jawline. The tension in the room shifts from the violence of the kill to something more intimate, more charged. You close your eyes, letting the sensation of her mouth on your skin, her hands on your body, wash over you.

Paige’s teeth graze against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck before she begins to suck, hard enough to leave a mark. You gasp softly, the sensation heightened as her hands slowly slide up your arms, fingers brushing the fabric of your zip-up hoodie. In one smooth motion, she tugs it down, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your red, lacy tank top. Ironically, the color is a perfect match for the blood spattered across the room, across both of you.

Her hands move to your shoulders first, but then one of them drifts lower, grabbing at your chest, squeezing your tit through the thin lace, pulling your back tighter against her front. You feel caged in her hold, a gasp escaping your lips as her grip grows firmer. But the real shock comes when you feel the teasing touch of the knife, the cold metal ghosting along the skin of your arm. Paige trails it down, tracing the sliver of bare skin just below where your tank top ends and just above where your sweatpants begin.

And then, with deliberate precision, Paige slashes the knife upward, cutting clean through the middle of your tank top. The fabric falls open, revealing your skin to the cool air and the warmth of her breath on your neck. You whine softly, “P, that was expensive.”

Paige just chuckles darkly, her fingers tightening around your breast, thumb brushing over your now pert nipple, as she whispers, “I’ll buy you another one.” With that, she pulls the torn fabric off you, letting it drop to the ground, leaving you completely topless. You weren’t wearing a bra beneath the tank, and the sudden exposure makes you shiver, but Paige’s body pressed against yours keeps you warm.

In one swift motion, she’s spinning you around, pressing her lips against yours, kissing you with a rough intensity. You can taste the blood on her lips, probably a mixture of the blood spatters on both of your faces. Her hand grips the side of your neck, holding you firmly in place, while her other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Her palm presses into your lower back, and the cold handle of the knife digs into your skin, a reminder of everything you’ve just done together.

Your hands move instinctively to her ponytail, fingers threading through her braids before you give a slight tug. The moan that escapes from your lips is muffled by her kiss, but it’s enough to make Paige groan against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. You pulling her hair seems to set something off in her, fueling that dark intensity behind her eyes. She bites at your bottom lip, tugging lightly as she starts to push you back, guiding you towards the couch.

When the back of your legs hit the edge, you lose your balance and fall back onto the cushions, and Paige doesn’t waste a second. She’s immediately on top of you, her knee slipping between your legs, nudging against your clothed core with a teasing pressure. Her hand is already at your chest, kneading your breast while her other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you wince—but in the way you like. You can feel the heat building inside you as her fingers press into the sides of your neck, right where your pulse pounds beneath your skin.

Paige’s mouth meets yours again, more demanding this time, her tongue pushing past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own. The pressure of her thumb on your pulse point makes your head swim, the sensation mixing pleasure with just the right hint of pain. You moan again, this time louder, your hips instinctively shifting under her as you crave more of that pressure between your legs.

She pulls away for a moment, just enough to trail her tongue along the edge of your lips, teasing and slow. Her tongue slides down to your chin, licking away the last remnants of the bartender’s blood from earlier, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The metallic tang still lingers as she leans back in to kiss you again, the taste of blood filling both of your mouths, and it only makes you want more.

And then you begin to feel something cold and sharp press against your skin. It takes you a second to realize what it is—she’s taken the knife again, and now the cold, wet metal is sliding over the valley between your breasts. The feeling sends a shiver through your body, and you gasp into her mouth as she presses the blade against your skin, wiping the blood from earlier onto you.

She pulls back slightly, her darkened eyes focused on the trail of blood she’s smearing onto your chest. The sight alone makes your breath catch. Paige’s lips curve into a smirk as she watches your reaction, clearly enjoying the way your body tenses beneath her. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her mouth move downward, trailing kisses along your collarbones, lingering there as her hot breath mingles with the coolness of the blood.

“God, you look so fucking good like this,” Paige murmurs against your skin, her voice low and gravelly. Her lips are teasing, pressing soft, feather-light kisses that make your heart pound harder.

Then she lowers her head further, until her mouth is right between your breasts, where the blood is smeared in a messy line. You feel her tongue dart out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe across your skin, cleaning the blood off in one long motion. The sensation makes you arch your back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as her tongue glides over your skin.

Her knee presses harder between your legs, creating a delicious friction that has you biting your lip, trying to stifle another moan. But it’s impossible to keep quiet when Paige is so close, her body practically overwhelming yours with heat and pressure. You grip her back, nails digging into her shirt as she keeps licking the blood off your chest, the knife still cold in her hand as it brushes against your skin.

Paige chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through you as she moves her lips to one of your breasts, taking your nipple into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive peak, teasing, sucking lightly at first. Your whole body reacts, your breath catching in your throat, and a gasp escapes you as she bites down gently, enough to send a shock of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” she murmurs, her voice muffled against your skin as she switches to your other breast, her mouth relentless. “So perfect and pretty for me, baby.”

Her words send another wave of heat through you, and you can’t help but moan again, louder this time, your body arching into hers. The pressure of her knee between your legs intensifies, and you grind down instinctively, craving more of that contact.

Paige’s mouth leaves your breast, trailing wet kisses down your abdomen. Her tongue flicks out, teasing along your ribs, before she starts sucking at your skin hard enough that you know she’s leaving marks—evidence of where she’s claimed you, the sensation sending sharp tingles through you.

Her hands move with purpose, finding the waistband of your sweatpants. You don’t even realize what she’s doing until you feel her fingers digging into your pocket, pulling something out before she slides your pants down your legs, leaving you in nothing but the lacy red thong that matches the blood-smeared mess around you and that did match your now-ruined tank top.

Paige takes her time, her gaze dark and heated as she admires the way the lace clings to your skin. She reaches out, hooking her finger under the waistband of the thong, pulling it back teasingly. The pressure is light, but it’s enough to make you shiver as she flicks it back against your skin with a soft snap. Paige hums, clearly pleased by your reaction, her smirk growing as her eyes meet yours.

You’re about to say something, maybe tease her back, when you notice what’s in her hand. It takes a second for it to register, but then you realize it’s the voice changer. The same one you use to make all your taunting phone calls.

Paige brings it up to her lips, turning it on with a flick of her thumb. “Do you wanna play a game?” Her voice comes out distorted, deep and twisted in that familiar way, making your heart race with a mix of excitement and surprise.

Immediately, you reach for the voice changer, shaking your head. “Babe, that’s my thing—” you protest, because it is. You’re the one who always calls the shots. You’re the one who makes the phone calls, who controls the game. Not her.

But Paige is quicker. She pulls back just enough to keep it out of your reach, sitting up on her knees and holding the voice changer above her head, far enough that you’d have to try harder to grab it. She cocks her head, a playful yet dangerous glint in her eyes. “Ah-ah,” she clicks her tongue, the sound sharp and commanding. Her expression makes it clear—if you try to take it again, you’re not going to like what happens next.

You lower your hand, your heart pounding in anticipation, your body already responding to the shift in control. Paige’s eyes stay locked on yours, her smile widening as she brings the voice changer back to her lips.

“I said,” she repeats, her voice low and sultry before flicking it back on, “do you wanna play a game?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real defiance behind it, just attitude—the kind Paige loves and hates equally. “What kinda game?” you ask, the challenge evident in your tone.

Paige’s grin grows, dark and wicked. She’s clearly enjoying this. “Oh, it’s simple,” she begins, her voice turning to a dangerous purr. “You’re gonna follow my rules. You do exactly what I say, and maybe I’ll let you finish.”

You scoff a little at that, trying to keep up the act of being unimpressed, but there’s no denying the way her words send a surge of heat straight through you. “And what if I don’t?” you counter, testing her.

Paige’s eyes flash, her smirk growing more predatory, the same look she gets before she kills. She leans in close, the voice changer still in hand as she trails the back of the knife down your stomach, teasingly slow. “Then I’ll make sure you beg for it,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

You feel your throat go dry at the sensation of the knife, her breath, the words she says. You swallow, staying quiet.

“You like that, yeah?” Paige says, her voice dropping lower as she presses the flat of the knife against your stomach, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. “When I’m the one tellin’ you what to do, when I make you all desperate and shi.”

Paige continues to move the knife down, grazing along the edge of your thong, the metal tracing the fabric lightly as she keeps talking through the voice changer. “Here’s what we’re gon’ do,” she starts, giving you a pointed look. “You’re gonna keep your hands right here,” she instructs, using her own hand to bring your wrists together and pulling them over your head, resting behind you against the armrest of the couch. “And you’re not gon’ move them. If you do… I’ll make sure it’s not pretty, ‘kay?” The implication is enough to make your breath hitch.

You stare up at her, heart racing, but you don’t argue. The way she’s looking at you—hungry and in control—makes you want to give in. To let her push you to the edge.

“And you’re gonna beg,” Paige adds, her voice husky, the grin on her face positively wicked. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to let you cum. You’re gonna tell me how much you need it.”

Your lips part, but before you can respond, Paige presses the knife lightly against your skin again, the threat clear but enticing.

“Do you wanna play?” she asks once more, using the voice changer. But this time, it’s not really a question. It’s more of a demand.

You don’t say anything for a long moment, staying silent. But Paige won’t have that. She takes the handle of the knife, lightly stroking your clothed clit with it, keeping her eyes on your face. Your hips buck up involuntarily at the feeling, and your gaze lands on hers, catching sight of her waiting expression. You sigh in discomfort, wanting more, shifting your hips a little. However, you know she won’t give you any more of what you need if you don’t agree to play her stupid fucking game. So, you kiss your teeth and mutter, “Fine. Let’s play.”

Paige immediately grins at your response, clearly eager for some more excitement (as if her night hasn’t been filled with enough of that already), tossing the voice changer across the room. She leans down, pressing her lips against your hipbone as she twists the knife back around to the sharp end, trailing the tip along your thong teasingly. You feel yourself shudder a little bit at the feeling, glancing down, chin pressing into your chest as you try to get a better look.

And then Paige is effectively ruining more of your clothing, tearing the fabric of your thong apart with the knife. It splits open, revealing your glistening cunt to the blonde.

“Paige—” you begin to protest annoyedly, irritated with her affinity of slashing your clothes apart tonight.

However, her head snaps up to look at you at the sound of your attitude leaking back into your voice. She glares, eyes narrowing as she tells you, “Shut the fuck up. Ion wanna hear none of your attitude bullshit tonight.”

You fight the urge to scoff at her, instead opting to stay quiet. You watch as she hooks her fingers around the flimsy fabric of what’s left of your thong before tossing them to the side, leaving you completely naked before her. Before you can even really process what’s going to happen next, she’s leaning in, her hot breath landing between your legs. But instead of her tongue or her lips making contact with your folds, it’s Paige’s teeth—biting at your clit. You gasp at the sensation, a little taken aback at the mixture of sting and serenity, and you can’t help but let your hand fall to her head to hold her there.

She won’t have that, though.

The feeling of your hand in her hair makes her pull back immediately, making you lose any feeling between your legs. You whimper a little at the loss, but she doesn’t care, slapping your hand away from her head. She grabs at the wrist of the same hand she’s just hit, eyes flashing at you as she pulls your arm back above your head, locking your wrists together with her fingers.

“The fuck did I tell you?” she snaps, glaring pointedly, irritation clearly seeping into her. “Keep your hands up there. Don’t fuckin’ move ’em unless I say so.”

You glare back at her, equally annoyed and turned on by her demands. She’s staring expectantly at you, waiting for a response, her nails digging into your wrists slightly. Eventually, you roll your eyes and cave, muttering, “Fine, Jesus.”

You watch as her eyes narrow at the bratty tone of your voice, though—surprisingly—she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t snap at you again to behave yourself. But she also doesn’t do anything. She removes her hands from your wrists, making sure you keep them up there, but, after that, she doesn’t make herself useful in any way. Instead, she leans back a little, her body still between your parted legs, just staring. She keeps her lips pursed as her eyes flick between your face and your glistening cunt that’s on full display before her, just inches away. You shift your hips a little, hoping she’ll get the message and do something for you, but she doesn’t. She just keeps watching you, eyes tracking the movement of your hips, keeping herself still.

You whine a little, nails digging into the couch armrest above you. “What’re you waiting for?” you finally retort, very annoyed by this point.

However, that annoyance seems to seep out of you pretty quickly as you feel the tip of the knife blade dig into your hip bone, just enough that if Paige pushed it any harder, it would certainly draw blood. You swallow a little, looking up at the blonde, trying to hold your ground.

“Enough with the fuckin’ attitude, ma,” she says firmly, clearly as tired of your shit as you are of here. You feel her begin to trail the blade along your skin slightly, before she’s adding, “And what—you already forgot one of my rules?”

You furrow you eyebrows at the question, not sure what she’s referring to. All you can really feel is the heat between your legs, and the stark cold metal of the knife against your skin.

She clicks her tongue at your obvious confusion, tipping the knife against you, breaking the skin ever so slightly. It doesn’t really hurt, just stings some, and you look down to see the tiniest bit of blood surrounding the cut she’s made, a hint of crimson tainting the silver of the knife. And then Paige is crawling a little forward, so that she’s hovering over you, and you feel yourself shiver beneath her.

She leans closer, her breath hot against your cheek, the cold metal of the knife now grazing along the curve of your jaw, before slowly, deliberately, moving toward your lips. She traces the blade across your lower lip, and you feel the wetness of your own blood against it.

“Open,” she orders, her tone firm, eyes alight with a mixture of control and something more primal.

Your heart races, but you do as she says, parting your lips slightly. The flat of the blade presses against your tongue, leaving the metallic taste of your blood in your mouth. She’s watching you do it intensely, pupils blown and eyes focused. And then she’s pulling it back, teasing you, leaving your body tense and wanting. Her lips quirk into a smirk, clearly pleased with the way your body reacts beneath hers, the power she holds over you.

Then she straightens, pulling the knife away, her expression both playful and commanding as she watches you intently. Her voice is soft, but dripping with authority, “You gotta beg for it, baby.”

You bite your lip, staring defiantly up at Paige, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you beg. You can see the flicker of frustration in her eyes as her grip on the knife tightens. She leans in, her breath fanning across your skin, but you hold firm, a smirk playing on your lips despite the tension crackling between you. You’re playing with fire, and you know it.

It’s right then where Paige’s patience snaps. Her hand shoots up to grab your jaw, her fingers pressing into your skin, hard enough to hurt some. “You’re being a real bitch tonight,” she husks, eyes narrowing as her thumb brushes over your lower lip. “I think I might just have to punish you for it.”

You can feel your heart race at her words, but you refuse to back down, a flicker of defiance still lingering in your expression, a slight smirk still pulling up your lips.

Paige tilts her head, her grip tightening slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just act like this and get away with it?” she continues, her voice low and controlled, though you can feel the anger bubbling underneath. “Fine. If you won’t beg, then you don’t get to make a single sound.”

You feel your eyes widen without thinking about it, realizing what she’s getting at, but she only smirks at your reaction.

“If you make any noise,” Paige says, leaning in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “then I won’t let you finish. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not until you learn how to fucking behave.” Her voice is dripping with authority, every word hanging between you like a challenge.

You swallow hard, trying to steel yourself, but the way she’s looking at you—like she’s already won this round—makes it difficult. You know she’s pushing your limits, testing just how far she can take this.

She doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead crawling back down your body, keeping your thighs spread open, resting herself between them. Immediately getting to work, probably impatient herself, her mouth attaches to the skin of your inner thigh, sucking harshly, certainly enough to leave a mark for tomorrow. And then she’s kissing her way up to the cut she’s imprinted on your hip, ghosting her tongue along the small sliver of slashed skin and the blood that rests with it. It stings, and you hear yourself gasp, whimpering at the feeling. She’s not fond of that, though, wanting you to stay quiet as she’s told you, so she pinches your thigh hard. You fight to not let the noise that’s burrowed itself in your throat get through, swallowing it down. If you behave, you’ll get what you want—so you might as well just let her have her fun.

She’s getting closer to where you need her, her nose brushing against your clit as she ghosts her lips along the side of your pussy, teasing you. You shift your hips slightly, desperate for the friction you’ve been needing, but her hands grab at each hip bone, holding you down so you stay still.

And then she’s diving in, pressing her tongue to your aching cunt, licking a long stripe right up between your folds. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the long awaited pleasure, keeping silent just as she told you to. She presses her mouth against you completely, enough to feel her every breath on you, rolling her tongue right against your clit.

Paige moans a little against you, sending vibrations through you that have your legs shaking. As she continues rolling her tongue in that famous, miraculous rhythm of hers against your bundle of nerves, one of her hands reaches up to your tit, thumb brushing along the nipple and pinching it.

You bite your lip, finally being a good girl and listening to Paige’s demands like she’s wanted this whole time. You stay silent, though your breaths come quicker, faster, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Paige’s hand.

She glances up at you, smirking against you as she catches sight of the beads of sweat forming along your skin, your flushed face, the way you’re fighting to stay quiet. Her tongue slides along the expanse of your slit before slipping inside of you, making your thighs quiver and a tiny gasp to escape your lips. Paige glares up at you warningly at that, making sure you remember well that if you’re not quiet, you’re not cumming.

And then she’s returning her focus back to your pussy, sliding her tongue in and out of you a couple times in a slow rhythm. You can tell she’s enjoying this by the way her eyes slip shut, brows furrowing in concentration. She then brings her mouth back up to your clit, flicking her tongue up and down, up and down, up and down, in a way that makes you see stars. You dig your nails into your palms, squeezing your eyes shut at the euphoric feeling.

“Shit,” Paige mumbles as she pulls away, staring at your soaking cunt before adding to the wetness, spitting on you. She watches her saliva slide between your folds and then leans in to lap it up with her tongue. She moans against you, probably at the taste, saying, “You’re gonna kill me with this pussy, baby. Could eat you forever.”

You let out a long, shaky breath at the words, scrunching your face up a little she sucks on your clit. Hard. You feel her teeth scrape against it, too, and you swear your nails are going to draw blood if you dig them any deeper into your skin.

Breathing heavily, she suddenly pulls up and sits on her knees between your legs, letting go of your hips and pushing your legs further apart. Looking down between them, Paige is suddenly thrusting three of her fingers into you without any warning. You can’t help it—it makes you shudder out something between a moan and a gasp, exclaiming, “Fuck!”

Paige won’t have that for a second, immediately pulling her fingers out of you to slap your pussy. “Shut the fuck up,” she tells you, biting along your skin as she slowly crawls up to your face again. “Can’t ever fuckin’ listen to me, can you?” she asks, her fingers trailing to your clit, circling it harshly. It makes your legs shudder and shake and you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur, gasping as you feel the heat in your stomach begin to rise, the coil getting ready to snap.

Paige’s fingers find their way back inside you, all three of them pumping. Your pussy squelches with her relentless pace, the sounds beyond filthy. Her other hand has found it’s way back to your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck, your pulse racing against her hand. “Don’t lie,” she snaps, eyes flitting between your face and the way her fingers are thrusting into you with absolutely no mercy. “You’re not a bitch, I’ve seen you take worse.”

You whimper a little at her words and it only makes her fingers speed up, sliding in and out and then curling in a come hither motion, making you see stars. “Y’know, Kelsey wanted to fuck me,” Paige taunts. Your eyes flash open at the words, the same flare of jealousy and anger rushing into you as remember the night at the bar. Realistically, you know you shouldn’t still care, especially as your gaze darts to see a quick glance of Kelsey’s dead body across the room. But, still, Paige’s words send a rush of irritation through you. She can tell, and she smirks, her thumb now abusing your clit as her fingers continue their pace. “You think she coulda kept quiet? Think she woulda been a good girl for me? She seemed very sweet.”

“She’s dead,” you grunt out, trying not to let Paige’s words get in the way of the feeling of her fingers in you, on you. “So I guess you’ll never know.”

That makes Paige’s hand squeeze your neck a little, enough for you to cry out at the dual sensation of that and her thrusting fingers. It’s all getting too much, the heat building as Paige’s pace keeps steady, your hips rising to meet her digits as they pump in and out. “Fuck, you make me crazy,” the blonde says, her lips trailing to your neck to suck a mark against your skin. “Such a brat, baby.”

The sensation between your legs has you forgetting Paige’s rules, and you think that at this point, she’s forgotten them, too, because your hands are moving from above your head to tangle in her ponytail, tugging as her fingers curl inside you. She doesn’t do anything to stop you, instead humming against your neck.

“P,” you manage to gasp out, voice shaking. You’re faintly aware that you’re sweating, your hair sticking sticking to your damp forehead and neck, your whole body pulsing with heat. “Paige, ‘m gonna cum.”

Paige nods against you, her tongue swiping against the hollow of your throat, her fingers thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. Vaguely, you wonder if her hand is cramping yet. “I know, baby,” she says a little breathlessly, against your skin. “Come on, ma, give it to me. Wanna feel it bad.”

You let out a shaky cry, hands finding their way beneath Paige’s shirt, nails digging into her back, certainly leaving scratch marks. Every thrust, every breath that Paige takes against your skin—it’s all too much, and you can feel herself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, the pleasure building with every second.

And then you’re moaning out, “Oh my God—fuck!” as the coil within you snaps, your back arching against Paige’s hand, your heart racing. “Fuck,” you say again, quieter this time, trying to blink away the stars in your vision.

Your breath comes in quick bursts as you slowly come down from your high, feeling a euphoric mixture of adrenaline and warmth coursing through your veins. You lean back against the couch cushions, now damp with blood and your own arousal, your skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Paige presses further into you, her breath hot and feverish against your neck, and you feel her say your name against your skin. And then she’s slowly pulling her fingers out of your soaking cunt, trailing them up to your mouth as she draws back slightly.

She slips them past your lips and you let her, mouth sucking her fingers clean, tongue gliding along her digits. The way her eyes glaze over watching you do it, lust filling her pupils, makes you think that you’re about to get fucked into oblivion for a round two. But then her gaze trails somewhere behind your head—probably to Kelsey’s dead body, if you had to guess—and she’s sighing, resigned, as she pulls her fingers from your mouth, tangling them in your hair. She presses her lips against yours firmly for just a moment, before she’s pulling away, saying, a smirk pulling the corners of her lips up, “We gotta go before they catch us.”

You frown a little, pouting as you say, “Fun’s over.”

She shakes her head slightly at you, still smirking as she responds, “Nah, when we get home, we can have all the fun you want.” And then she’s reaching down onto the floor, grabbing the ghostface mask and slipping it over your head, covering your face. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You slip into your clothes quickly, watching as Paige grabs the knife and checks around the room to see if either of you have forgotten anything. Once you’re ready, the two of you open the apartment door, leaving your mess for someone to find later. However, you and Paige leave, she of course does not forget to call out into the empty apartment, “Bye, Kelsey!”

The door slams shut behind you, and, obviously, there is no response back.