okay so i’ve been scrolling and reading some things on here and how r you people so talented ?? these are some of my author recommendations from what i’ve seen so far 🌺
description. hot night, too much alcohol, and paige won’t quit pushing your buttons. you swear you’re not gonna let her touch you—until you’re in the car, windows fogged, clothes half off, and she’s got you right where she wants you. the team’s still back at the concert… none the wiser!
includes. SMUT, 18+. semi public sex location, fingering, receiving, overstimulation, p being overly dominant, talking you through it, sweat kink question mark? established relationship, sloppy and messy quickie feel, blatant lack of shame but you’re just girls!
a/n. oh hey, guess who… I KEPT MY WORD THIS TIME! i’m always team #paigereceivingtoo but this is already pretty filthy and i’ve lowkey been gatekeeping it since june lol it was nearly finished, but it’s here now! please enjoy and expect more of my drafts sooner or later ◡̈
This might’ve been the hottest you’ve ever been in your entire life.
And not in a sexy way. No, this was the kind of hot that made you genuinely irritable. Sweat was sliding down your back, pooling beneath your bra, soaking through the waistband of your shorts. Your thighs were sticking so bad you had to keep shifting your weight from one foot to the other just to stop them from suctioning together. Dallas in the middle of June wasn’t just hot, it was aggressive, and frankly, it was making you just as bad.
On top of that, of course Paige was enjoying every second of it. It was her idea, after all. This whole outing. Paige had sent you the flier three weeks ago for this concert slash festival thing in Fair Park with live country music, food trucks, and local vendors, and she’d somehow convinced half of the UConn team to fly out for the weekend for a paid treat like it wasn’t a hundred and three degrees before noon.
You didn’t even want to be mad. It was the first time Paige had seen everyone all together since the draft, and she’d been so contagiously happy about it for days that you’d forgotten to think about all the bad parts. You had been in Dallas so many weekends in a row that you’d lost count, and though you seemed a lot more warmed up to the city by now, it came with this kind of warmth too.
The worst part? You couldn’t even get a break from the fucking heat because Paige was behind you—Paige, whose entire thing lately was being physically incapable of not touching you in public, and for the past hour, you’d been ignoring her. Not intentionally, at first. More like the weather had burned any interest in being touched out of you, and everytime she did, you wanted to hiss and swat her away like a fly.
Paige had promised, “It’s mostly shade, I swear,” and you—stupid, trusting, had even believed the bit about misting fans.
Lies. All of it.
Instead, you were packed tight in a loud crowd with even louder music, ankle deep in sun scorched gravel, with your girlfriend’s hand now sliding just under the hem of your shorts like she hadn’t been warned twice already to leave you alone before you snap. She was like a dog in heat.
Behind you, Paige leaned in again.
“Baby—“ she said for what had to be the sixth time.
You didn’t look back. “No.”
“I didn’t say anything yet!”
“Doesn’t matter. Keep your hands off me.”
You didn’t even have to look at her to know the face she was making, all pout and disbelief, like it physically wounded her not to have her hands all over you at all times. Paige Bueckers, baby faced menace of the W, had apparently made it her full time job to violate your personal space. And being in Dallas? Having you in Dallas? It had her in full overtime mode.
You figured it was a combination of homesickness and whatever new obsession she’d developed for the way your summer body was bodying. She kept saying you were made for this—for the WAG life. And, well, you did look pretty damn good in a cowboy hat. And her jersey.
She was so close you could feel her breath against your neck, lips just barely there like she wanted to taste your sweat. “Paige,” you warned, biting back a groan. “I swear to God.”
Behind you, she had the audacity to laugh, all proud of herself like this was going exactly to plan. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You don’t have to. You’re breathing on me.”
“You allergic to love now or somethin?’” she asked, and you might as well be. “‘Cause I feel like I’m the one suffering here.”
You finally turned, eyebrow arched. “You’re suffering? I’ve been standing in this oven crowd for an hour, all the ice in my tequila soda has melted, and my hair has fused to my back. You think now’s a good time to get handsy?”
Paige blinked. Her cheeks were flushed, her straightened hair a bit frizzy, pulled into a mid ponytail that had definitely looked better at her apartment. She looked sticky and disheveled and unfortunately still downright fine. Her tank top was doing barely enough to cover her chest, and her cargos had slid low on her hips, exposing the waistband of her Nike Pros. She was holding her own cup in both hands now like a kid who couldn’t be trusted, and there was a bead of sweat sliding down her throat. Her lips glistened, and you wished it was easier to stay angry.
You’re also sure she’s had too much of whatever alcoholic beverage she’d ordered when you first arrived.
“I dunno,” she mumbled, lips curling. “You look kinda hot like this.”
You blinked at her. Stared longer than you should’ve, which was always a mistake. You squinted as you eyed her up and down, but your whole face felt warm, and not because of the sun. You knew better than to feed her ego in broad daylight, but it was too late now.
And she knew it.
You licked your lips without thinking. Paige grinned like it was confirmation, entirely too satisfied for someone who hadn’t gotten her way yet. You knew that look. Knew what it meant when her eyes dropped to your mouth like that, when her tongue slipped across her bottom lip like she was trying not to bite it. It meant her brain was short circuiting. It meant the heat wasn’t bothering her nearly as much as the way you looked pissed off and flushed and borderline ready to combust.
“Bet I could help you cool off.”
You bit back a grin, playing it cooler than you felt. Her voice was too low and hopeful for you not to play into it. And yeah, maybe you wanted it just as bad as she did. “Yeah?” you asked, unimpressed. “That right?”
Paige nodded a little too fast. “Mhm.”
“How?”
She blinked. “I—” Her mouth opened like she was gonna say something clever, but then she looked down at your neck, where your sweat had made the skin dewy and glowy and very lickable, and she forgot her sentence entirely.
You tilted your head. “Paige. How exactly were you gonna cool me off?”
She squinted up at the sky like it had answers. “Just, y’know. Hypothetically.” Then she looked back at you with this helpless little smile like she was trying to behave but her whole body was betraying her. “Could take you back to the car. Put the AC on full blast.”
You laughed, more of a scoff. “So generous.”
“I try.”
“You just want me alone in the car.” You raised your cup to your mouth then and took a slow sip, eyes locked with hers. As you pulled it down, a drip of soda slid off your lip. Without thinking, Paige reached out and caught it with her thumb, wiping it off then sucking it clean like she didn’t want to waste a single drop.
Paige blinked again, this time not even bothering to lie. “Yeah,” she admitted, and her hues matched your every move. “Real bad.”
You paused. Stared at the blonde with your lips slightly agape, like you were shocked she’d done such a thing in front of so many people. That tiny, careless motion, her mouth moving around her thumb, hit you way harder than it should’ve, especially after the amount of attitude you’d been giving her for the last couple hours. You swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of her proximity. Aware of just how much closer you wanted her.
Fuck.
You glanced toward the others. Then back at Paige.
She was already smirking, bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’d just won the lottery. “You were thinking it.”
“Shut up.”
“We’ll be quick.”
“I didn’t agree to whatever you’re thinking about.”
You rolled your eyes but you were moving. Both of you were. Paige’s chest brushed against your back like she didn’t even realize she was doing it, twitching as if she was already picturing you straddling her in the back seat. You’re sure she was.
KK caught your eye just before you ducked out of the group. “Y’all getting more drinks?”
You nodded. “Or air conditioning.”
“Grab some self control for Paige while you’re there,” Nika teased without even turning.
“I’ont need that,” Paige called back cheerfully, completely implying that she didn’t need it anymore, because she was getting exactly what she wanted. You didn’t dignify it with a response. You were too busy following your overheated, desperate girlfriend out of the crowd and toward the far lot, where the car sat in the grass like a mirage. Tinted, airless and probably hotter than outside, but private.
And Paige, giddy beside you, was already untying her cargos.
She opened the back door for you like it was chivalrous, like she wasn’t about to absolutely defile you inside her own car. You slid in first, the backs of your thighs immediately sticking to the leather, and scooted toward the middle on your elbows. Your cup got abandoned somewhere in the mess of movement, and you barely had time to settle before Paige scrambled in after you, the door still hanging wide open behind her as her entire body crashed into yours.
Your brain was stuck somewhere between this is so ridiculous and fuck, finally.
The heat was immediate. Dense and stifling, no circulation, but none of it mattered now. “Jesus,” you whispered, tugging at the hem of her damp shirt. It clung to her body like a second skin. “You’re all wet.”
“So are you.”
She wasn’t wrong. You’d been wet. You were wet before the car, probably before the drinks. You’d been waiting. It wasn’t just because of the temperature looming outside—it was the way she leaned into you, despite how annoying it was in the moment. The way her eyes dragged slow over your mouth every time you argued. The way her thumb swiped over your lip. The sound of her voice saying she wanted you alone in the car, and the way your body had turned traitor. It was almost annoying how easy she made it.
She peeled her shirt up and over her head without ceremony, tossing it somewhere in the front like it didn’t matter—because it didn’t. Nothing did, except getting to you. Her hands hadn’t wasted much time either.
She grabbed your shorts with both hands and yanked. The movement jolted you back into the moment, and suddenly you could feel everything. Your back against the leather, the humidity curling around your neck, and her mouth already moving down your throat. You helped her get them off, barely lifting your hips before she tugged them down to your knees, then to your ankles, moved aside like a minor inconvenience.
Then your panties—she didn’t even bother with finesse. She pushed them to the side like she was already too far gone, and the second she had access, her fingers slid through your folds, dragging across your entrance in preparation.
You gasped and gripped her arm automatically, nails biting into her skin. “Jesus—” She kissed you sloppy. Mouth open, tongue needier than her antics in the line. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t even coordinated. She missed your mouth the first time and kissed your cheek instead, laughed into it, then went right back in for another. And another.
You pulled back once, lips already sliding into a smile as you tried to force your brain to work. “Mhm.” A quick peck for good measure. “Door.”
“Huh?”
“The door, P,” you giggled, more breath than sound, but it still made her pause.
“Oh.” She pulled back just enough to glance at it, still hanging wide open to the event. She blinked like it had just occurred to her this wasn’t an alternate reality where she could fuck you on a parade float, then she turned in a scramble, flailing a little as she reached behind her to grab the door and shove it shut. She slammed it harder than necessary, the sound rattling through the car.
“Subtle,” you mumbled, tongue running over your bottom lip. “Very stealth.”
Paige sighed in sexual frustration, grinning down at you. “Not my strong suit.” She settled back over you, bracing one hand beside your head on the seat, the other still between your thighs. “Now,” she said, like she was just trying to confirm something, “I still can’t touch you?” Her voice dropped even lower. “’Cause I’ont know if you noticed, but I can’t really fuck you…” she kissed the hinge of your jaw, thumb swiping slow, slow circles over your clit, “without using my hands.”
You should’ve been embarrassed. The windows were already fogging and she hadn’t even touched you properly yet. Your tank top was bunched up beneath your arms, your shorts barely hanging on, your hips already canting up to meet her like muscle memory had taken over. All of this and she was taunting you.
You stared at her, your pulse thick in your ears. “I said you couldn’t before.”
Her lips curved. “So that’s a yes now.”
It wasn’t a question—she already knew.
Her smile turned wicked, and before you could think of something smart to say, Paige’s middle and ring fingers slid and sank in to the knuckle, deep, stretching you so good you lost your breath. You couldn’t even feel the leather now, just her.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” she said, curling them slow, then harder. “Knew you wanted it. Coulda’ had it awhile ago if you wasn’t so stubborn, baby.”
You tried to glare at her, but a broken sound left you before you could stop it, your hips still grinding up into her hand on instinct. Your jaw fell slack when she moved her entire body to settle lower between your legs, the movement pressing her palm harder against you, thumb brushing your clit in messy, fast little circles that made your thighs twitch. You reached and grabbed at her forearm again, not to stop her—God, never that—but because you needed something to hang onto.
“Paige—shit—slower—”
Tongue flat and wide, she licked a stripe up the center of you, like she was just dipping it in for a taste. “Uh uh.” She looked up with a shiny top lip, her pupils huge. “You’ve been so mean to me today. Lemme be mean back.”
And you quickly realized what she was down there for.
She buried her face so deep you could feel her nose bumping your clit, tongue fucking into you like she was trying to make you come in seconds. The whole car felt like it was spinning. Your skin was slick and overstimulated and your legs were shaking because of how fucking hot it was in here and how much hotter she made it. She pulled away, angled her wrist just right while catching that spot you liked, and you were officially mute.
Safe for those little sounds the blonde always managed to drawl out of you.
And of course Paige knew your body better than anyone else. She knew how you got when the sex was so good you couldn’t speak, so she made you. She moved from her spot, letting her fingers do the work again and her forehead brush yours as she readjusted herself, eyes glued to her hand in between your legs. “Mmhm, just like that,” she hummed slowly. “Feel good?”
You made some sound—half moan, half breath—but it wasn’t a real answer. You knew you had to do better than that.
Her thumb pressed harder against your clit. “Yeah? You hear me talkin’ to you, baby?”
Still nothing but a strangled gasp, your head tipping back against the seat, screwing your eyes shut. You weren’t sure if it was her words or the skills of her hand that were making you closer to coming faster.
Paige clicked her tongue, the slight grin on her face saying she was already two steps ahead. She slid her hand up to catch your jaw, her fingers pressing into your cheeks—not hard, but enough to make you look at her. Your eyes fluttered open.
“There she is,” she damn near whispered, gaze flicking down over your flushed face before locking on you again. “I ask you somethin’, you answer me. You like it?”
You nodded, eyes wandering elsewhere, words still caught somewhere between your release.
Her grip tightened a bit, thumb brushing your cheekbone while she continued to work you. “Say it.”
You struggled, swallowing your own spit before forcing your words out. “Yes, P, I love it s’much—fuck. I’m—I’m here.”
She raised an eyebrow, licking her bottom lip as she tried to scissor you deeper. “Here all the way, baby? Let me know.”
You nodded again, chest rising and falling, pulse hammering like you were close to combustion. “I’m here. Fuck… I’m right here.”
Paige half nodded, letting her thumb circle you faster, more urgent now, and you could feel your stomach tightening, ready to spill over. “Don’t hold that shit in,” she whispered. “Let it go, get nasty on my hand, bae—“ Your breath hitched, fingers gripping her arm like a lifeline, every nerve ending screaming for release.
“Shit, shit, shit, Paige…” You came hard, body locking up before the shudders hit. The air punched out of your lungs in a sound you didn’t even recognize, so loud it had Paige glancing out the window above you just to make sure no one was too close. Your thighs clamped around her arm, back arching so violently your head smacked into the door behind you.
Paige didn’t stop—not until you were pulling her away, pussy throbbing, your breath coming in broken little sobs. She didn’t slow down until you were whimpering from the oversensitivity, hips twitching against her palm.
“Good ass girl,” she murmured, finally easing her fingers out. She glanced down at her hand, then back at you, smirking like she’d just proved a point. “How’s that?”
You let out a breathless laugh, the kind that’s equal parts disbelief and awe. “Good. Great. Amazing,” you smiled. “Better than normal.” Your skin prickled, and if you were hot before, you knew you were on fire now, your body practically melting into the leather beneath you.
Paige’s eyebrows shot up as she grabbed at your thigh to bring your leg up over her hip, leaning in closer and brushing a messy kiss over your lips. “Better than normal?” she repeated. “That’s a new one. Maybe we should have sweaty sex in the car more often.”
You caught her grin and rolled your eyes, tugging her closer for another kiss—the kind that left you both breathless in the cramped car. Paige’s free hand slithered in your hair, pulling you closer, her mouth insistent as she nipped and kissed along your jaw, down to the curve of your neck.
Just when you thought you might lose yourself completely, Paige pulled back, eyes glinting with something you’d like to call mischief and restraint. “Nah, nope—we gotta get back,” she said, like she was arguing with herself for almost getting carried away.
“Paige!” you whined, your hands sliding to fiddle with the waistband of her cargos, tugging lightly. “I didn’t get you yet.”
She eyed you up and down, biting her bottom lip. “Get me later. I got enough to hold me over.”
You just stared at her. Then finally, with the one ounce of strength and slight normalcy you had to return to your friends, you nodded.
Paige smiled all big and gummy, then she leaned over, kissed you one last time, and whispered, “Told you I could cool you off.”
Excuse my language…Don’t let these jobless ass hoes affect you I re-read ur stuff while IM at work. These people have nothing better to do than sit and complain because they’re children.
LMAOO i love that tho and i love u!
you’re unfortunately right & i’ve stopped giving it attention
Her whole blog is her dedicated to picking fights with people like PLEASE ignore her
Writing paige as insatiable, over bearing, and being on top of the reader at an inopportune time are all basic concepts and themes that run rampant across this platform. Car smut, specifically, has been done about fifty-leven billion times, and I can faintly recall several fanfics where paige is drawn to the reader’s sweat like it’s not ground breaking to write that
Girl I’m so sorry she chose you as her next rage bait target PUHLEASE ignore and keep coming back, WE MISS YOUR WORKS OF ART 🤍
my point broooo
back to our regular.. unscheduled… programming fam
The fic was almost two years ago. And it was very similar but I also don't think it was copied intentionally at all. I remember the reader in the fic only had a tank top and shorts because it was so hot and Paige had on black pants and a grey sports bra
I think it was called too hot or something like that
like you think someone intentionally going around plagiarizing would even respond to the ask in the first place..? 😭 i dead had to see for my damn self
