The fact that Grace has children’s drawings with him (the ones he sticks on Rocky’s bubble when Rocky is injured after saving Grace) means that Stratt—or someone acting on Stratt’s behalf—must have asked his schoolchildren to draw him farewell pictures to take with him on his one-way journey. And I think this shows once again that Stratt does indeed have a conscience, that her difficult decisions don’t come easily to her.
She forces Grace to undertake his mission, yes, but she simply has no other option if she doesn’t want to give up the best possible chance for humanity’s salvation. She has no time for compassion, but I don’t think that means she lacks it. She wanted Grace to find something in his stuff on the Hail Mary that would remind him of home. Something that could offer him some comfort.
A stark contrast to the single Polaroid that shows only him alone. No family or friends pictured with him. So the drawings are the only personal items with meaning to him he gets to take on the journey. And he couldn’t have asked his schoolchildren for them nor packed them himself, because until just before he left, he didn’t even know he would be leaving Earth forever.
it’s about how he looks at you, with this deep dark eyes that hold so much behind them
the devotion, the heat
how his hands trail reverently over your tingling skin, lighting you up like nothing ever has before
how he curls them deep and purses those plush lips you think about all the time, his wrist undulating to push in and out of you underneath the fabric of your dress
it’s all you can stand to wear now, with the heat and humidity that makes the air thick but he’s not one to complain and neither are you if this is the result
he’s leaning down, lips pressing to your cheek, your nose, your chin, your neck- anywhere he can as you watches with rapt eyes the pleasure that courses through you, that he stirs and tempers in you
a low, rumble of a chuckle is the only answer to the whine that squeezes its way through your throat on the next exhale and you feel the prickle of your high just within reach
his hand stills as your hips begin to move, your head thrown back and an arch making you such a beautiful sight for him to behold
“that’s it, take what you want”
and fuck, you do, because you know he loves to see it, feel it, be the source of it. you shatter with a strangled cry of his name and he thumbs at your clit to prologue it. a peck on the lips the soothing even as he slips his fingers from between your thighs with a deep groan of his own
he catches your bleary eyes when they open, heavy lidded and searching. your own lips are swollen and open wide as you pant and try to catch your breath. but he doesn’t stop, he raises his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean as his other hand quickly undoes the string keeping his swim trunks up
but you gently swat it away and do it yourself, revealing the hard length of him to hungry eyes and trail a nail up the underside- the shudder that wracks through his body is intoxicating
the electricity between you both too much to bear as he’s suddenly notching himself between your shaking thighs and pushing in
twin moans enough to fill the cramped bathroom where you’re pushed up against the mirror on the counter and he’s crowded against you
all thoughts of the summer bbq continuing on outside in the backyard drowned out by the way your mind fuzzes and your body moves in tune with his hard thrusts
huffing tims sweaty scent after he gets done with a job. i want to smell that mans balls after a long hard day. is this an okay thing to think about...
perfectly okay, fellow kinkster. live your truth babe
part: 3
pairing: paige bueckers x oc
word count: 2.3k
c/w: language
a/n: i'm just feeling so inspired! here you guys go LOL. look at paige man so inspirational ;) EDITED: sorry guys, i forgot the first bit of this chapter! i edited so it’s in there now :)
I’m not delusional. Surely, Gia’s flirting back, right? And surely, her agreeing to come back to our hotel with us means she must be a little interested, right? Or maybe she really is just a big fan of KK. “Are you comfortable in that?” Nika asks Gia, who winces as she walks with us towards the elevator in her heels, still in her work clothes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she assures Nika.
Nika shakes her head, pressing the elevator button. “I’m sure we have some stuff you can borrow. KK’s stuff will fit you, she’s short-” I interrupt quickly at the same time that KK squawks in protest. “You can borrow my stuff.” It comes out a bit rushed, and I almost cringe, hoping she doesn’t notice. She doesn’t seem to, instead frowning and asking, “Are you sure?” I nod, praying I don’t seem too eager.
Nika hits the number 4 and the number 8 on the elevator. “Y’all head to Paige’s and then meet us at mine, okay?” My mouth goes dry at the thought of being completely alone with Gia. Sure, we’d had our own little conversation back at the restaurant, but being alone with her in my hotel room feels different. Don’t be weird, I chide myself as the elevator dings and we exit, her trailing me as I make my way to my room.
“What are you feeling?” I ask her, opening the door. I’m glad I had the sense to pick up a little before we’d left for dinner today. “Mmm, anything,” she shrugs, eyes darting around my room. Her eyes land on the book I have on my nightstand. “Is that Kobe’s book?” She asks, eyes widening. I nod, grinning at the fact that she could recognize it. “No way. I bring that with me everywhere, I have it back at my place,” she gushes. My eyes widen in surprise. “Really? Me, too,” I say, and the smile she gives me turns my insides to mush.
“You have a hoodie or something?” She asks, breaking the spell ever so slightly, but not entirely, because I’m still entranced by her. I nod wordlessly, heading over to my suitcase and digging through it. “How’s this?” I ask, pulling out a UConn hoodie. I own far too many as it is. She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think I should be wearing that. You know, as a Georgetown student and all,” she teases, and I grin, throwing it at her.
“No one has to know,” I shoot back. “No? Our little secret, then?” She grins slyly, stripping off her blouse. I lick my lips, feeling my heart thud at the sight of the expanse of skin. My eyes linger on her chest for a second, then flick to the ceiling, trying to be respectful. “You’re already a fan, so might as well get you some merch,” I say, but I can’t hide the breathlessness in my voice. “Funny,” she retorts, slipping the hoodie on, and I almost wish she’d take it back off. She looks even better in my clothes than she did in her bra.
Gia paces to me, gazing up at me curiously, then kicks off her heels. My breath hitches, watching to see what she’ll do, but she just measures her height against mine, bringing the side of her hand to my clavicle just above her head. She sighs. “Yeah, I might have to borrow pants from KK,” she tells me. I laugh in agreement.
___________
“They don’t give you the nuke codes?” KK demands, and I giggle, feeling slightly tipsy as I take another swig of my beer. I’m pressed up against Paige on Nika’s bed, both of our backs to the headboard. “No, they don’t, KK,” I smile, and she looks disappointed. “Why they gatekeeping, bruh,” she deadpans, and I laugh harder at this. KK grins mischievously at me. “So how come I’m your favorite?” She asks, jumping onto the bed with a force that jerks me further against Paige’s arm. She brings it up to rest behind her head, her elbow folding next to my face as she takes a drink from her bottle.
I shrug. “You’re funny. I always watch your TikToks, I think they’re hilarious,” I admit. She wrinkles her nose. “Girl, boo. I’m funny, but what about on the court?” I ponder for a moment, tapping my chin. “Mmm, you remind me a lot of Moriah Jefferson,” I say thoughtfully. “I really liked her game, and yours is kind of similar.” What I really want to say is that Paige is my favorite, and that she reminds me quite strongly of Diana Taurasi. But I figure I’ve already inflated Paige’s ego enough for the night.
KK gapes, and the rest of the room stills a little. I frown. “What? Did I say something wrong?” I ask hesitantly. Paige shakes her head. “No, I think we’re just… surprised that you know who that is.” I shrug. “I watched her back in college, I don’t know,” I say, still feeling like I’m under surveillance. Paige turns to me, allowing her arm to fall so that it rests on my shoulders. I turn into her subconsciously. “So you have Kobe’s book…” She says slowly. I nod, confused. “You know who Moriah Jefferson is,” she continues. I nod again. Paige narrows her eyes a little, blue glinting through the slits. “What’s the greatest NBA team of all time?” She asks.
“2018 Warriors,” I answer immediately. Her eyes flare open. KK lets out a low whistle.
“You’re, like, Paige’s dream girl,” she says loudly, and the entire room begins snickering. I hide my face in Paige’s hoodie as she groans, the vibrations of it strong against my back, as she’s more or less pulled me into her now. “Shut up, KK,” she insists, and the younger girl rolls her eyes, turning to chatter with Ice.
I turn back to Paige, whose fingers have begun moving up and down my arm. Feeling daring, I move to place my legs over hers, bent at the knee so they’re not actually touching hers, but so that I can still face her completely, leaning my head against her shoulder. She observes me quietly, then opens her mouth to speak again.
“Greatest defender?” She asks softly.
“Dennis Rodman.” Easy. Her mouth twitches at this, and a hand moves to caress my calf. I lean into her touch, encouraging her to go on, toying with the strings of the hoodie that she’s thrown on.
“Greatest point guard of all time?”
“Steph.” She raises an eyebrow at this. “Not Magic?” I shake my head. “Steph, for sure.”
I bring my bottle to my lips, which she watches intently, and I frown when I realize it’s empty. I set it on the bedside table behind me, and when I turn back to Paige, she’s holding hers to me. I accept it gratefully, taking a swig.
My whole body is tingling at her proximity as I hand the bottle back to her.
“KK might be right,” she muses, taking a swig herself. I laugh lightly, letting my head fall to her shoulder as I stare up at her. “I should go,” I murmur. Her thumb brushes against the side of my mouth. “You should stay,” she mumbles back. I sigh. “I have work tomorrow.” She rolls her eyes, but she smiles down at me, anyway. “I’ll take you,” she says.
“You sure?” I ask, and she nods, patting my leg to signal me to get off of her. I don’t want to. I want to stay in this position, maybe even explore other positions-
“Where y’all going?” Ice asks. I snap out of my reverie, swinging my legs off of Paige and onto the side of the bed. “I’mma walk her home real quick. It’s late,” Paige explains. Ice nods slowly. “Y’all be safe,” Nika teases, and I don’t miss the double entendre, nor do I miss the ridiculousness of saying it to two girls. I chuckle, shaking my head and saying bye to all the girls. “Hey, some of us are still in town tomorrow,” Azzi informs me. “Friday night out with us?” She suggests.
“You should come,” Paige intones from behind me. At that, it’s not even a question. I nod quickly at Azzi. “Sounds like a plan.” Azzi smirks knowingly.
Paige and I talk mindlessly on the way to my apartment. She lets my head fall against her shoulder on the metro, and brushes my shoulder with hers on the walk to my place. I feel like a seventeen year old girl again, although I’ve just turned twenty-two. Something about her - the flirting, the subtle touches, the not-so-subtle looks - just makes me giddy.
“This is me,” I sigh, slowing my pace as we approach my building. “I’ll take you up,” Paige murmurs, eyes scanning our surroundings. It occurs to me how sweet this is - she genuinely just wanted to make sure I got home safe. “You don’t have to-” I start, but she cuts me off. “I want to, ma.”
Oh. Okay. The nickname recharges me in a sense, shooting alertness back into me almost instantaneously.
“Okay. Let me change, and I’ll give you these clothes back,” I agree. We ride the elevator in comfortable silence, and I jiggle my key in the lock, pushing the door open. “Your place is nice,” Paige says, entering my apartment and taking a look around. Then she wrinkles her nose. “Too much Georgetown paraphernalia, though.” I elbow her slightly at this, then make my way to my room, pulling her hoodie over my head to change into my pajamas.
__________
I swear this girl is trying to kill me. I’m sure she thinks she’s out of sight when she takes my hoodie off, but I still get a glimpse of the smooth skin, and a tattoo on her right shoulder. I want to know what it is. I want to place my lips against it and taste it.
Stop, I chide myself, and Gia comes back out in pajamas and a cropped tank top. I catch sight of a belly button piercing I hadn’t noticed earlier, as well as a tattoo across her collarbone. My cheeks flush as a glance at her chest reminds me exactly why I hadn’t clocked those things before.
“You alright?” Gia asks, handing the clothes back to me. “You look a little red.”
“Yeah, I get really pink when I drink,” I lie, and she nods, clearly not fully buying it. I pause. “You can keep the sweatshirt,” I tell her. Her eyebrows shoot up. “Huh?” I step closer, holding the sweatshirt out towards her. “Keep it. It looks good on you.” Her mouth morphs into a smug smile at this. “Oh, yeah?”
I take another step towards her, pushing the hoodie into her stomach. Gia’s hand comes to cover mine, and it sends tingles throughout my entire body. “Yeah,” I breathe. She licks her lips, staring up at me, and suddenly, the urge to kiss her is overwhelming.
“I’m not that tired anymore,” she whispers. “Good,” I say back. “Wanna watch a movie?” She asks. I lick my lips. “Mhm,” I hum. She guides me over to the couch, switching on the TV. It turns on to a WNBA game. “Leave it,” I say, collapsing onto the couch. She nods, settling on the other end. I frown at her. “C’mere, ma,” I say hoarsely, and immediately she shifts to lay against me, curling into my side. I slide an arm around her, pressing my fingers into the cold skin of her torso. Gia shudders, leaning further into me. She smells tantalizingly good, a mix of some floral scent and something a tad sweeter.
We talk quietly about the game, the TV at a low volume, afraid to ruin the intimacy of the moment. It’s a Mercury-Sparks game, and they’re playing it on the west coast, where it’s only about 8 PM. When it ends, she lets the commentary run, looking up at me expectantly.
“Do you have to go?” She asks.
I shake my head. “Do you want me to?”
She shakes her head back, hair brushing against my chin. “No.”
I smile down at her, prepared to give her a hard time. “Why not?”
She stifles a yawn, snuggling into me. “I’m really comfortable,” she says sleepily.
She’s so fucking endearing. That’s the word for it. Everything she does makes me want to kiss her more and more, and the urge is becoming increasingly difficult to resist. But I feel my eyes getting heavy lidded as well, tired from all the activities of today. I let them flutter shut, figuring I’ll leave after she’s fallen asleep.
___________
I wake up to my alarm and hair tickling my forehead. I frown, wondering momentarily if I got a dog I was unaware of. Then I note the warm mass beneath me, and the scent of citrus engulfing my nostrils. I jerk awake, sitting up, and my eyes widen at the realization that Paige Bueckers is sleeping on my couch. More than that - I had slept with her.
The alarm wakes her up, too, and she shifts groggily as I fumble for my phone to turn it off. “Shit, sorry,” she rasps, and her morning voice sends heat straight between my legs. I internally roll my eyes. It’s too early to be turned on. “Guess I fell asleep,” she groans sheepishly. “It’s okay,” I reassure her. I probably look a mess - my hair feels tangled, and I hope she doesn’t notice the crusties that I’m sure have formed in the corners of my eyes.
Then I realize when I had sat up so suddenly, I had inadvertently straddled her waist. We seem to come to this conclusion at the same time, and Paige stares at where our bodies intersect, then trails her eyes up my torso to my face. “Gia,” she whispers throatily, and it’s the first time I realize I’ve heard my name in her voice.
I hope to God it’s not the last.
I move to get off, but she grips my thighs, preventing me from moving. “I have to… get ready for work,” I mumble distractedly, but she’s too busy sitting up, moving so that our faces are inches apart. “You look good, ma,” she says quietly. Way too fucking early to be so turned on. “Go like this.” Her eyes roam across the bare skin of my chest, a hand coming up to caress my waist.
I want to kiss her. I need to kiss her.
“Paige.” It’s my turn to whisper her name, a plea of sorts. A question.
She leans in, and my breath hitches. “You’re coming out with us tonight, right?”
I nod, breathing in her scent. She hums thoughtfully, eyes tracing over my face.
“I’m gonna come pick you up,” she tells me.
“Okay,” I agree, a little confused.
“Before,” she continues. “I’m gonna pick you up before, and take you to dinner.”
My eyes widen, and I bite my lip, trailing my hands over her shoulders. “Sure.”
“Gia.”
I hum in response, my lips parted.
“I really need to kiss you now, okay?”
“Please,” I say hurriedly, rushing to slot my mouth against hers. I sigh into the kiss immediately, letting her take charge. Her lips feel fucking incredible, soft and insistent. Not to mention her hands pressing into my back, pushing me into her. I make a noise against her mouth when her hand trails to my ass, and she pulls back, panting against me.
“That doesn’t mean stop, it means keep going,” I say, chasing her lips with mine, but she stops me.
“I want to. But if I don’t stop, I think I’m going to do something really inappropriate to you on this couch. And I’d really like to take you to dinner first.”
I kiss her chastely, and she lets me. “The couch won’t mind,” I insist.
“As long as you tell the President that you were late to work because you were fucking around with Paige Bueckers,” she jokes. I pause at this and sigh. “Ugh, you’re right,” I groan. I ease off of her, helping her up off the couch. She stumbles to her feet, towering over me.
She turns to make her way to the door, then turns back to me, groaning. “Just one more,” she mumbles, and presses her lips to mine once more while wrapping her arms around me. I giggle, pressing a hand to her cheek and kissing her back, before she pulls away. “And one more for the road,” she whispers, kissing me quickly. I laugh harder at this.
Paige pushes back from me forcefully, shaking her head in something that mirrors disbelief. “I’m serious about taking you out tonight,” she informs me, grabbing her wallet off the counter. I grin at her. “Oh, I believe you,” I say, shooing her out the door.
“I’ll text you!” She throws over her shoulder, heading towards the elevator, and I close the door behind her, smiling giddily like a madwoman.
God, I wish Dinotrux were more popular because this fandom feels like I’m stranded in the fucking Sahara Desert hallucinating and thirsting for fan content.
