All Of You Hoes Need To Kill Yourselves.

ALSO ‘BRE HAS POSTED HER PICTURE PUBLICLY’ ALL OF YOU ARE CRAZY STALKER BULLIES

EXACTLY

2 bad bitches at the SAME DAMN TIME

Yungi For DAZED

made me want to start writing again

CHARGE iT TO THE GAME 🔌 — PAiGE BUECKERS

✐˚ ༘ WORD COUNT | baby idk. wildest guess 5-6k?

✐˚ ༘ SYNOPSiS | paige has spent forever trying make you hers. the only problem is that your shithead girlfriend stands in the way of that. you’re a good girl, loyal, but it’s no secret that you’re unhappy. even if you haven’t said anything explicitly, everyone sees the stolen glances the both of you take. you can feel the magnetic pull of your feelings for paige, but you just can’t give in. you’re firm on this— that is until your girlfriend unlocks your petty side.

✐˚ ༘ WARNiNGS | smut, revenge sex (though reader’s feelings are real), toxic!gf, technical cheating, fingering (r! receiving), cunnilingus (r! receiving), strap (r! receiving), reader turns into a video girl, slightly jealous sex (on paige’s part), etc.

✐˚ ༘ MiMiS NOTES | realized i’ve never written smut for paige and then decided… why not? excuse any typos, i was fighting for my life writing this

you’re sitting across from her, but it feels like you’re sitting across from a mirror made of ice. the wine glass in your hand doesn’t warm your fingers. the expensive dress she picked for you doesn’t feel like yours. and every time she laughs at something vapid, you feel a part of yourself shrinking to fit her mold.

your girlfriend—celeste—is the kind of girl who looks good in a press release. sleek hair, tailored words, instagram-curated love. she calls you babe in public, sweetie in private, and never once gets your coffee order right.

but you stay.

because it’s easy.

because people call you “power couple” under your pictures.

because she looks good beside you in photos, and even better when she’s leaving you voicemails about how you “could’ve smiled more.”

but then there’s her.

paige.

paige who calls you shorty even though you’re only two inches shorter. paige who remembers you like chaos, like extra caramel drizzle and sneakers that don’t match. paige who doesn’t ask why you’re still with celeste—she just watches, with that quiet ache in her eyes like she already knows.

you’ve been dancing around it for months. late-night texts. elevator silences that drag a second too long. the time her hand grazed yours at a post-game party and you didn’t pull away fast enough.

you thought you were hiding it well.

but paige?

she’s done hiding.

it starts at some swanky charity event celeste insists on dragging you to. another night of her clinking glasses with people who don’t know your name, correcting the way you stand, fixing your lipstick with a thumb like she’s brushing crumbs off a child.

paige shows up in a black suit with a white tee and eyes only for you.

and maybe you look at her a second too long. maybe your smile reaches your eyes in a way it hasn’t in weeks.

celeste notices.

“her again?” she says coolly, following your gaze.

you blink, trying to reel it back. “we’re friends.”

“hm.” she swirls her wine. “you have a lot of those lately. especially ones who don’t understand boundaries.”

you don’t reply.

because paige is walking toward you.

and there’s something in her stride that says tonight changes everything.

you find her again outside, where the night air tastes like freedom and her hoodie smells like her cologne. she tossed it over your shoulders without asking.

“you good?” she asks softly.

your nod is shaky. “yeah. just needed air.”

she leans beside you on the balcony railing, silent for a moment. her fingers brush yours.

“you always come back to her,” she says finally. “but you never look happy about it.”

you swallow hard. “it’s not that simple.”

“it is.” paige looks at you like she’s handing you a choice. “you don’t have to keep choosing what hurts you.”

you meet her eyes.

and for once, you let yourself speak without thinking. “then take me.”

paige chuckles like it stings. her hand brushes her face and the thumb of her right hand glides over her jawline. she allows her chin to rest in the palm of her hand and glances over at you. “i would but…” she trails off with a glint of doubt in her eyes. “you’re not ready.”

your mouth dries and suddenly the mucus in it tastes bitter. you can’t argue because you know it’s true. but you do yearn for that mistake.

“listen, shorty.” paige leans away from the railing and adjusts the lapels of her suit, seemingly pulling herself together. “i’ve been waiting and i’ll keep waiting for you. understand?”

you nod, blinking rapidly. in this moment, you feel small. and not because of what paige has said, but you almost want to shrink out of embarrassment. why would you stay where you’re unhappy?

with a huff, you turn on your heels and head back toward the dining hall. your palms sweat and your feet ache, but you’d rather that than face the distant yet longing gaze of paige madison bueckers.

by the end of the night, you’ve listened to about 100 speeches and had to give one of your own. the team is planning to head to ted’s afterwards— it’s still early and nobody really wants to go home just yet.

“we should go, you know,” celeste chimes, nudging you with your elbow.

you merely hum. you’ve been gazing at paige smile the brightest of smiles as she jokes around with kamorea arnold, the exuberant guard.

“you should fix up your makeup though. it looks all splotchy and… gross almost.” celeste tacks on.

after two years of dating, you’ve learned that she just loves to hear herself speak. you believe that she’s selfish, and annoying, and stupid, and quite frankly a piece of shit, and yet her words hit you in the gut.

you think all of the negative things about her, and yet her opinion matters to you. i mean— you thought your makeup looked good earlier. better than it had before, even.

paige shouted that you looked beautiful every time she’d gotten the chance.

“cel,” you groan. “really?”

“well… yeah. why would i lie about that?” celeste says all of this with her hand resting on your thigh. she’s scooched in close to you. and to the outside, you look oh-so in love. and yet, you’ve never been so unhappy.

celeste pulls you close, her arms wrapping around your waist. her fingers graze your lower stomach and she rests her chin on your shoulder as much as she can. you sniffle as your eyes well, and you’re hit with a flurry of what smells like axe body spray.

your eyes connect with paige’s eyes across the way like puzzle pieces. quickly, you try to gather yourself. you blink away your tears and give her an easygoing smile.

she smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. you recognize the look though. you know she understands— she does. but the disappointment is greater than the understanding right now.

you didn’t even want to go.

ted’s is sticky floors and screaming college kids and watered-down drinks, but celeste loves a scene. she wants to be seen. and more importantly, she wants you seen with her.

being with her puts a tinge on your senses. you’re sure that if you’d shown up with paige you wouldn’t have noticed all of those things.

“just smile, babe,” she says, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear like it’s part of her accessory list.

you don’t smile. not really.

you spot her the moment you walk in.

paige is leaning against the edge of a high-top table, her hoodie half-zipped over a cropped tank, surrounded by her teammates. there’s laughter around her, energy buzzing, but her eyes drag to you like gravity—soft, searching.

you look away too quickly.

because tonight you’re celeste’s plus-one again.

you told yourself the last year has been a fluke. a moment of weakness. you told yourself it wasn’t real, couldn’t be.

but paige’s gaze doesn’t burn. it calls.

celeste orders and orders for you before you can even open your mouth.

you nurse your drink. it’s a lemon drop, you think. but it’s not sweet and it’s not bright. everything feels bitter and dull.

celeste’s already on her third. she’s not even discreet about her wandering eyes. she never is when there’s a crowd. she wants attention like oxygen—needs it, devours it.

you’re halfway through texting your friend to come rescue you when you notice celeste’s no longer beside you.

you scan the bar.

find her near the jukebox.

and then you freeze.

because she’s not alone.

some girl in a tight dress with loose lips and looser morals has her hand on celeste’s arm, and celeste’s laughing like it’s her best joke all night. her fingers trace the rim of her drink. the girl leans in.

then they kiss.

not secretive. not a slip.

a kiss. you think it might be weird to watch, but you do. it’s sloppy and heated, yet passionate. and you realize that this random girl has gotten a better kiss out of celeste than you have ever.

you don’t cry.

you just blink.

once.

then you take a breath.

it’s not pain—it’s a snap. a clean, vicious cut across every excuse you’ve made for her. every “she’s just drunk,” every “she didn’t mean it,” every “she loves me.”

no, she doesn’t.

and you’re done letting her pretend she does.

you walk over calmly.

she barely looks surprised.

“babe,” she says, voice syrup-slick. “don’t be dramatic.”

you stare her down. “go to hell.” it’s strange, but it feels like the sweetener in your life has just returned.

then you turn.

and walk right back across the bar—

—straight to paige.

her eyes find you before you reach her. it’s like she senses you.

paige is halfway through sipping her drink, knuckles loose around the glass, the curve of her smile still laced with whatever joke she’d just tossed to aubrey. but when she sees your face, everything stills.

her grin fades—just enough. her brows pinch, barely.

and then the world around her goes quiet.

the team’s laughter dulls, even the music feels muted beneath the weight of your presence. it’s like the bar tilts with you, following your path.

you walk with a purpose you’ve never let yourself wear before. not around paige. not in public. not while celeste had her claws sunk into your spine, threading your decisions like puppet strings.

but tonight?

tonight something inside you broke—and not softly.

no tears. no cracked voice. just steel.

you’re not here to make a scene. you’re here to make a choice.

and you hate to admit it, but celeste just gave you your green light.

you stop in front of her, chest rising, face unreadable.

your lipstick’s still perfect. your dress is hugging you like armor. the same hands that used to tremble whenever you brushed hers now hang loose at your sides, clenched just tight enough to keep from shaking.

and when you speak?

your voice slices clean through the noise.

“please get me out of here.”

it’s not a plea.

it’s not a whisper.

it’s a quiet command dressed like surrender.

and paige—god, paige hears everything.

she doesn’t ask why. doesn’t turn to see if celeste is chasing behind you.

she just sets her glass down.

nods once.

and says, calm and sure, “come on.”

you hear the bar start breathing again behind you. whispers. someone mutters your name, maybe in shock, maybe in awe. you don’t care.

you don’t look back.

you follow paige out the door like you belong there—like you should’ve done it a thousand nights ago.

and this time, when her hand brushes yours in the parking lot, you don’t hesitate.

you take it.

grip it.

hold it like you’re finally holding onto something instead of letting yourself be dragged behind someone else’s power trip.

you don’t know exactly where you’re going.

but you know what you’re walking away from.

and that’s enough.

the moment the passenger door shuts behind you, the silence swells.

paige slides into the driver’s seat, jaw clenched, knuckles white around the wheel. the engine rumbles to life, but neither of you speak. the air in the car is warm, too warm, like your skin hasn’t quite cooled from the adrenaline still coiling in your chest.

you can still taste the bar on your lips—cheap vodka, regret, and something sour that clings to your throat.

but next to you?

paige smells like clean cotton and tension. like restraint about to snap.

she doesn’t ask what happened. she doesn’t have to.

her hand brushes the gear shift, then stills.

“you okay?” she asks finally, voice low.

you nod, but it’s not convincing.

your voice is rougher than you expect. “i don’t want to talk about her.”

“okay,” paige says, eyes still locked on the road.

but her hand reaches across the console anyway. it doesn’t touch you—just rests there, palm up, open. waiting.

you stare at it.

for a second, you hesitate.

then you lace your fingers with hers.

the breath she exhales is shaky. you feel it more than hear it.

the streetlights flicker across her face as she drives, casting sharp shadows on her cheekbones, soft glows on her mouth.

you try not to look.

but you do.

and when she glances over at you?

it’s different this time.

there’s no caution. no backing off. no pretending she doesn’t want you.

there’s just fire.

your thumb grazes the inside of her wrist. she swallows hard. her grip on your hand tightens, like she’s trying to ground herself.

you whisper, “you’re really not gonna ask?”

paige’s voice is low, ragged. “if i do, i might turn the car around.”

you bite your lip. “what would you do if you did?”

she doesn’t answer.

but the look she gives you is enough to make your thighs press together.

every red light is unbearable.

every turn she takes is slower than it should be.

by the time she pulls into her driveway, her jaw is set, her breathing shallow. your hand is still in hers, clenched tighter now. the second the engine shuts off, the silence becomes unbearable.

you speak first.

“if you don’t kiss me right now, i’m going to lose my mind.”

Paige doesn’t even take a second.

she reaches across the console, grabs your face with both hands, and pulls you in like she’s starving.

and maybe she is.

because the second your mouths crash together, it’s all heat and teeth and desperation and finally.

your hands are in her hair. hers are gripping your jaw, your waist, your thighs like she doesn’t know where to hold you first.

the windows fog fast. the world disappears.

you don’t know how long you stay there, kissing like the car is going to disappear beneath you. like you’ve been waiting years to do this without guilt tangled in your ribs.

and when she finally pulls away, forehead resting against yours, her voice is hoarse.

“come inside.”

you nod.

you don’t need to be asked twice.

she barely gets the door closed behind you before her hands are back on your waist.

you don’t even make it to the bedroom.

her mouth is on yours, urgent and unrelenting, pressing you back against the nearest wall. her hands slide under your jacket, shoving it off your shoulders without breaking the kiss. your fingers fumble with the hem of her hoodie, tugging it up until she lifts her arms and yanks it off in one motion.

“fuck,” she whispers when she sees the way your dress clings to you, straps slipping with every breath. her thumbs trace over the tops of your shoulders, dragging the fabric down slow—reverent. like she’s undoing every lie you ever told yourself about what love was supposed to feel like.

and when the dress hits the floor?

paige exhales like she’s finally breathing for the first time.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

you lean in, lips brushing hers, voice wrecked and low. “we don’t have to wait anymore, baby.”

that last word almost makes her go weak in the knees. you grab her by her tie, pulling her into you more. you want, no— need her as close as possible.

you lock your lips again, tasting the sweetness of her tongue. your fingers tangle in paige’s hair, and her hands squeeze at your waist.

she lifts you—just enough to stumble you both back toward the couch. you don’t land gently. it’s hands and limbs and laughter caught between gasps, her thigh slipping between yours, your head tilting back when she kisses down your neck.

you claw at her tank top until she peels it off. her skin is hot beneath your fingertips. familiar from dreams, sharper in reality. your nails drag down her back, and she groans into your collarbone, biting back something primal.

her lips trail lower. over your chest. down your stomach. her hands map every inch like she’s daring herself to believe this is real.

you reach for her, threading your fingers into her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her look up.

“paige.”

she stills, breath caught.

“what?”

you search her face.

“don’t be gentle.”

something dark flickers in her eyes. she comes up to meet your eyes. her breath ghosts over your lips. the warmth of her body is something magical. she looks at you with so much love— but then the switch flips.

paige leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck in a vertical line. she bites and you recoil at the pain, but then her tongue swipes over the spot, like she’s apologizing for hurting you, even if it is for pleasure’s sake.

your skin is slick and your heart races, but the feeling is electrifying. your right leg is hiked up as paige holds it. her fingers running up and down it’s expanse.

suddenly, paige pulls away, fully. you’re laying down and she towers over you. you feel like you should be concerned, but you’re not, and if anything, it turns you on more. your core tingles as you gaze up at the woman.

she breathes heavily as she looks down on you. with the look in her eye, you can tell paige’s wheels are turning. you just don’t know with what.

the living room is dark, but you can see her thanks to the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“take all this shit off,” she growls referring to your panties and bra. “when i come back, i want you naked, ass up.”

you nod eagerly. before disappearing into her bedroom, paige presses a kiss to your lips.

it’s patient and passionate, like a pre-ambulatory apology what’s about to ensue.

you kiss her back with everything you’ve been holding. all the frustration, all the guilt, all the ache of almosts. your hands are on her face, her shoulders, sliding under the hem of her sports bra like you need to feel skin. real, warm, hers.

the way she groans into your mouth when you bite her bottom lip? it makes your knees weak.

you only pull back for air—barely. your foreheads still touch, your breaths uneven.

her eyes are blown wide, pupils dark and focused only on you. a small smirk rests on her lips, “you just like kissing me.”

“wrong,” you chime. “i love it.

without words, she stalks toward her bedroom. you hear her rustling with things back there, but you don’t ask any questions. in the meantime, you peel out of your panties and bra.

you toss them to the ground and assume the position paige asked of you. it feels foreign to you, but you’re open to it. the apartment is a little chilly and your nipples pebble at not only that, but also the thought of paige ruining you.

it’s quiet, and she notices. she calls out to you. “you ready for me, baby?”

a shiver runs down your spine in anticipation. deciding to be bolder, you reply with: “less talking, more doing.”

you don’t have to be in the same room as paige to know that her eyebrow has just raised and she’s also vowed to herself that she’d make you regret having a smart mouth.

you hear paige padding back to the living room, and your skin tingles with excitement.

“aw,” paige tsks. “look at my good girl, all ready for me. you ready, baby?”

you nod.

paige stands behind you with a sickening smirk and you can hear it in her tone. her left hand palms your ass, running her thumb over the same spot. “so soft.”

without any warning, she reels her hand back and then forward, sending a snack to your ass cheek.

caught off guard, you yelp at the sensation. you take in a sharp breath through your barred teeth.

with a low thud, paige drops to her knees beside the couch. her body’s contorted so that she can easily reach you.

her hand rubs over the spot and then the warmth of her pink lips take it’s place. paige kisses the area gingerly. “you want me to ruin you?”

her words send shocks to your bare cunt— rightfully so.

“just… make me yours and make me forget.”

“oh baby… you’ve been mine,” paige mutters against your skin.

paige uses both hands to spread your cheeks and she licks her lips in anticipation. her breath ghosts over your pussy, and your toes curl as a result. it’s hard for you to keep your arch because you’re so eager and you want it so bad.

her lips pucker, and she blows a fan over your sopping southern set of lips. the breath is caught in your throat and you try hard not to back up and into paige’s face.

“what a pretty pussy, baby. can i have it? is it mine?” paige’s words come out in a carnal manner and the low baritone she uses turns you on even more. “so wet.”

you whine, “yes, it’s yours. all yours.”

with a hum, paige presses soft kisses to your inner thighs and around your pussy, in the shape of a horseshoe. the pulsing feeling in between your legs is astounding.

the moment you’ve been anticipating happens. paige gives a swipe to your pussy, get tongue flattening over the surface. she does this three times before finding your clit.

your hands claw at the fabric of the couch as you feel every bit of pleasure course through your bones. you bite down at your bottom lip, afraid to make any noise.

you’re not sure how paige knows you’re holding back, but she does. “mm, don’t do that. let me hear you, sexy.”

paige’s tongue prods your clit, sending a shock through you. you let out a funeral guttural moan at the stimulation. it feels so unfamiliar to you.

her lips envelope your button, sucking on the bundle of nerves nonstop. “o-oh fuck, paige!”

she chortles, the vibration protruding past her larynx shocks you almost. paige lets the saliva gather in her mouth as she forms a vacuum with her mouth.

all while still supporting your own body weight, you let your hand come up to tug at your nipple and roll it between your fingers.

paige expels the mix of your essence and her spit from her mouth and coat your pussy. some of it dribbles onto the couch— you hope it doesn’t stain, but paige doesn’t even care.

it’s not long before she’s back at it again, taking your clit between her lips. “aw, you taste so good baby. best pussy i’ve ever had.”

the arch in your back loosens and paige catches it, pressing down against it. her hands are warm and smooth, and fit perfectly with your body.

her tongue swats your clit and she takes this chance to slip a finger into your pussy. her wrist rotates as she ruins you, index finger pounding into you. the feeling is so specific. you’ve been waiting for this and you can’t believe you have it now.

the air is caught in your throat as you feel your climax approaching.

you can barely keep your eyes open as the pleasure mounts. “paige, d-don’t stop. i’m about to cum.”

“i know, baby,” she hums into your pussy. “fuck my face, pretty girl.

you do as she says without words, meeting her now two fingers and tongue in the middle. it’s loud and sticky and everything you’ve dreamed of.

paige sucks on your clit yet again and makes a scooping motion with her fingers inside of you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as your thighs begin to shake. you feel like you’re within inches of your life. but, you don’t stop.

paige speeds up, feeling you clench around her digits. you want to cum so badly.

and when your breath runs ragged and uneven, you do.

the rubber band in your lower stomach snaps and you moan into the throw pillow resting next to you. it does no muffling as your body convulses and shakes in pleasure.

paige pulls her fingers out of you and pulls away from your pussy, sucking your cum off of her long and pruny appendages.

you fall against the couch, recovering in silence. paige leans over you, warm breath hitting your ear. “she ever fuck you like that?”

her hand comes up and palms your ass, rubbing it. she’s breathing heavy, but you don’t mind, so are you.

you hum, “mm mm.”

paige laughs cockily, “yeah, i know.”

you turn over to meet her eyes and she doesn’t waste any time before pulling you into another kiss. she tastes differently now. sweet, but fleshy.

the kiss is tender and driven by pure libido. before you know it, paige is sat on the couch and you’re straddling her.

her clear purple strap taps the inside of your thigh as you look down at it, and then back at her. “you gonna ride me baby?”

now doesn’t seem like the time to shy away from a challenge. paige is sweaty and her skin almost glows as she peers up at you.

bracing yourself, you let your hands rest on the headrest of the couch, parallel to paige’s head.

when you look at paige again, you communicate with your eyes and she gets what you’re saying. she grabs the dildo and holds it in place, making it stand at attention for you.

you sink down onto it, slightly groaning at the feeling.

paige watches your face, searching for any signs of discomfort. she pulls you in for a sweet kiss as you begin to gyrate.

the kind of kiss that didn’t need to prove anything. It lingered, warm and unhurried, like a secret whispered against your mouth. her hand cradled your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin, grounding you in the quiet tenderness of it all.

initially you smooth slowly over the plastic. you take your time, letting paige see you. her hand comes down from your cheek to press down in your clit.

you draw a breath in, and your eyelids flicker, but your eyes never fully close. the blue of paige’s eyes and the brown of yours collide.

your hand rests on the back of her neck. you make sure she can’t look anywhere else. but she doesn’t really want to. she only has eyes for you.

the strap hits your g-spot a few times, and your back arches in response. you’re so wet that a ring has began to form around it, and paige is quite frankly entranced.

you lean in to kiss at paige’s neck and mutter, “you fuck me so good, paige. do you see what you’re doing to me?”

paige whimpers at your words. you speed up, eager to put on a show for paige, and so is she.

your phone rests on the table next to the couch. paige grabs it and swipes over to the camera. she makes sure the flash is on and hits record.

with each ascent you make, you slam down on paige’s thighs and they begin to turn red.

your moans are loud and you’re not shy anymore.

paige’s free hand grips at your titties, kneading them like dough.

“you like fucking me, p?” you ask her through gritted teeth. the pleasure is insurmountable and you feel your climax nearing as you get that tingly feeling in your lower stomach.

the flash of your phone is almost blinding, but you can’t stand to look away from paige.

truthfully, she looks drunk off of your pussy, and you’re enjoying it.

“i love it, baby,” she grits out.

you smile, grind your body into hers more and chase your climax.

it’s not long before you cum, and collapse on top of paige. you’re breathing heavily and so is she. your head rest in her neck as she stops recording.

your moans are soft in her ear. paige drops the phone and instead cradles you, and you feel safe. safer than ever.

without words, she adjusts the both you so that you’re laying on the couch. your body on top of hers.

paige tugs the blanket off of the top of the couch and spreads it out over your bodies. your head rests on her chest and she places a firm kiss on your temple.

your limbs are tangled in one another’s and it’s not long before the both of you are asleep.

[celeste]

bro where the fuck are you

y/n i’m not playing

did you leave with her?

what the fuck are you doing

baby i’m sorry it was just a kiss

it didn’t mean anything

i’m sorry come home i’m waiting for you

baby?

y/n?

[you]

— one sent video attachment

charge it to the game

© domifreak, all rights reserved

no you stupid fucking bitch followed my rp accounts from Izzy’s account your trademade is literally following the account then sending mean anons. @/amyreinhart, @/dannydavenport. iszy isnt stupid enough to follow an account just to block it bc you don’t need to follow an account to block it.

Again you're being fucking stupid, I never followed your weird alt accounts. It wasn't hard to find some of them because you used a few to send asks to ME. I haven't sent any anons to those accounts. Unlike y'all I don't hide under anons. Be big and bold or stfu🤷🏾‍♀️

I'm turning off anons, anybody can tell who you two are but it sucks not to see y'alls...wait just bres username🤭

“in which-“ already a masterpiece.

@uncuredturkeybacon

playin it cool - paige bueckers x reader!

s: your best friend drags you out to a dallas club for a much needed girls’ night, but the last thing you expect is to spend it making eyes with paige bueckers across the room.

w: smut, dom!paige, heavy sexual tension, explicit language, club setting, alcohol use, oral sex (f receiving + giving), strap 👀, confident!paige, flirty banter, minor teasing/dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky but lowkey nervous too

word count: 4.6k

the thing about dallas is… it’s hot. even at night. even when you’re tipsy and wearing next to nothing.

“goddamn,” your best friend whistles when you step out of your apartment, hands dramatically framing your body like she’s casting a spell. “you trying to get fucked tonight orrrr…?”

you roll your eyes, smoothing your palms down the sides of your denim skirt. it’s short, snug, and sitting just right on your hips. paired with the slinky little sparkly top barely holding onto your chest and your favorite black boots, you were definitely giving that. unintentionally of course.

“i’m trying to get a drink,” you say dryly. “and maybe a dance.”

“mm right,” she smirks, unlocking her car. “bet you won’t be saying that once you see who’s at the club tonight.”

you shoot her a look as you slide into the passenger seat. “why, who?”

she shrugs, the casual kind of shrug that means she knows exactly what she’s doing. “heard some of the dallas wings team might be there. it’s one of their spots, apparently.”

you blink. “okay? and?”

she laughs, shaking her head. “girl, they’re hot. they’re athletes. most of them are gay. sounds like your exact type.”

you snort. “they’re also famous. you think they’re fucking regular ass people from dallas?”

“uhhh yes?” she counters immediately. “athletes be horny too, bitch. they don’t care who you are as long as you’re hot.” she looks you up and down again. “which you very much are.”

you just laugh, resting your head against the seat as she drives. your phone buzzes in your purse, but you ignore it. tonight’s about letting go. or at least pretending to.

—

the club is packed by the time you get there.

some 90s hip hop track is blasting through the speakers, bass so deep you feel it in your chest. the lights are dim, neon purple and pink casting shadows across the dance floor. the air is thick— perfume, cologne, weed, alcohol, hookah and people are already pressed up against each other, laughing, drinking, grinding.

“this is so our vibe,” your friend says, grabbing your hand as you both maneuver toward the bar.

you order a tequila soda—strong, but manageable, while she goes for something vodka-based that smells like it could knock you out in one sip.

“i’m getting fucked up and getting some dick tonight,” she says confidently, clinking her glass against yours.

“have fun with that,” you grin, taking your first sip.

and then you see them.

a group of tall-ass women in the corner, posted up like they own the place. they move like athletes, hold themselves like it too. and when you scan the group, eyes skating over braids and biceps and bottles—

you see her.

she’s leaning back against the booth, one arm slung casually over the backrest, a lazy smirk on her face like she knows exactly how good she looks. she’s wearing a fitted white tee, jewelry glinting on her wrist and neck, blonde hair in that messy perfect state that looks both effortless and deliberate. and she’s looking at you.

hard.

you weren’t expecting the eye contact. weren’t expecting it to feel like a fucking pull.

you drop your gaze immediately, acting cool as you turn back to the bar just in time to grab your drink.

but your best friend caught it. obviously.

“bitch,” she says, eyes wide. “you two were eye- fucking.”

“no we weren’t,” you scoff, sipping your drink.

she cocks her head. “okay, so why is she walking over here right now?”

“shit.”

you barely have time to fix your expression before she’s in front of you. paige fucking bueckers. in the flesh. up close. prettier than her highlights, smoother than you were ready for.

“hey,” she says, voice low, smooth.

you glance up, matching her energy. “hey.”

she looks you up and down—not subtly. “you got a name?”

you bite back your smile. “you first.”

that gets a laugh out of her. “i’m paige.”

“oh yeah?” you say innocently. “you play ball or something?”

her smile deepens. “something like that.”

you tell her your name, and she repeats it, like she’s trying it on for size. it sounds real good coming from her mouth.

“you from dallas?” she asks, sipping whatever drink she’s holding.

you shrug. “born and raised. why?”

“just curious.” she’s close now, arm brushing yours. “you got that local vibe.”

you raise an eyebrow. “what does that mean?”

“means you’re fine as hell and chill bout it.”

you laugh. “so that’s your type?”

“tonight it is.”

the conversation keeps going like that—easy, teasing, warm. paige is bold, but never cocky, smooth without trying too hard. you keep your tone light, but your heart’s beating fast. the tension’s building. every time she leans in closer, you feel it.

“so what do you do?” she asks, gaze slow as it trails down your legs and back up, eyes catching on the hem of your skirt. “besides drive people crazy looking like that.”

you grin. “i work in sports media. real job and everything. been with bleacher’s report since i graduated.”

her eyebrows go up, impressed. “okay, big-time.”

“you’re one to talk.”

she smirks. “you’ve been watching me?”

“you were hard to miss.”

there’s a pause. her gaze dips to your lips.

“you wanna get out of here?” she asks, voice lower now. rougher.

you tilt your head. “who said i was interested?”

her expression falters, just for a second. and then she recovers, leans in even closer. “your body language. it’s saying otherwise.”

you stare at her for a beat. then smile.

“give me five minutes.”

you find your best friend, ask her if she’s good. she grins, waving you off toward paige like a damn matchmaker.

and that’s how you end up in the passenger seat of paige bueckers’ car, her hand sliding onto your thigh the second she pulls out of the lot.

—

her apartment is nice. new, clearly—modern countertops, tall ceilings, basketballs and duffle bags tossed in the corner. not a ton of decoration yet, but it smells like her. expensive cologne, subtle vanilla.

she hands you a bottle of water before you even sit down.

“hydration is sexy,” she says with a wink.

you laugh, sipping it. “you always this polite after trying to pick someone up?”

she shrugs. “just making sure your hydrated.”

you sit on her couch. the tension between you is practically humming.

and she’s just… staring.

like she wants to devour you.

you raise an eyebrow. “you just gonna keep looking at me like that?”

she leans forward, voice dropping. “or what?”

you smirk. “or you could do something about it.”

she doesn’t need to be told twice.

she’s on you in seconds—lips on yours, hands already gripping your waist, pulling you into her lap like she can’t wait a second longer. the kiss is hot—all tongue and teeth and desperate breaths. she tastes like vodka and mint, and her fingers are already pushing up your skirt.

“fuck,” she mutters, tugging your top off, eyes drinking you in. “you’re so fucking sexy.”

you laugh against her mouth, tugging at her shirt. “you too cocky to be this good a kisser.”

“you’ve seen nothing yet.”

she stands, pulling you with her, dragging you toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss.

by the time you hit the mattress, your skirt is gone. her hands are everywhere—pinning your hips down, trailing over your thighs, slipping under your underwear.

and then she’s eating you like she’s starving. no hesitation, no warm-up—just her mouth, hot and slick and fucking relentless.

“shit, paige—”

she moans into you, sucking your clit, holding your legs open like you might disappear if she doesn’t keep you in place. it’s intense. overwhelming. fast.

“feel good?” she mutters, voice rough.

“yes don’t stop—”

you cum embarrassingly quick, thighs shaking, but she doesn’t stop. not until you’re crying out again, and then she finally lets up, crawling over you with a smug smile.

“you gonna be good for me now?” she asks, breathless.

you flip her over in response, grinning. “your turn.”

you go down on her, making her writhe and moan and beg—and you love every second of it. love the way her voice breaks when she says your name. love the way she tugs your hair when she gets close

you don’t stop until she cums hard, hips shaking, voice raw from moaning. her hand stays in your hair, fingers tightening every time you kiss your way up her stomach, over her chest, up to her throat.

you’re still catching your breath when she flips you.

“you think you have one more in you?” she asks.

quick. effortless. like she’s been waiting.

“yeah.” you say quickly.

“you look so good like this,” she murmurs, eyes dragging down your body like she wants to ruin you. “legs spread, already so fucking wet for me.”

you reach for her, but she’s already off the bed, grabbing the purple strap from the drawer like she knew exactly when she’d use it. you swallow hard, breath catching as she steps into it—slow, teasing, powerful.

“you ready for me, baby?” she asks, tone low and smug. “or do i need to make you beg a little first?”

you don’t give her the satisfaction—just hold her gaze, daring her. “i’ve been ready.”

she climbs back on top of you, hands firm on your hips as she lines the strap up and slides in slow, making sure you feel all of it. your mouth falls open. a gasp leaves your throat, needy and unfiltered.

paige smirks. “that’s what i thought.”

then she fucks you.

deep, relentless strokes that leave you shaking. every thrust hits just right, has you crying out her name, clinging to her back, your nails dragging over her skin. she leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“you take me so well,” she whispers. “so fucking good for me. look at you—already close, huh?”

you nod, whimpering, thighs trembling around her. she picks up the pace, one hand slipping between your legs to rub tight, fast circles over your clit while she keeps pounding into you like she owns you.

“cum for me,” she growls, breath hot against your neck. “right now.”

and you do—loud, messy, body arching up into her like she’s the only thing that matters.

but she doesn’t stop.

she fucks you through it, chasing her own high from the way you fall apart underneath her.

“fuck. i’m gonna cum again.” she says.

and she does moaning your name.

when she finally slows down, she kisses you soft. breathless. a sharp contrast to everything she just did to you.

“still breathing?” she teases, stroking your cheek.

“barely.” you say jokingly.

she just grins at you, tracing your hip with her fingers.

“so… think you’ll be at that club next weekend?”

you roll your eyes. “you already trying to run it back?”

she shrugs, kissing your shoulder. “you’re local, right?”

you smirk, snuggling into her chest. “we’ll see.”

“well give me your number, just incase you need to know when i’ll be there.” she says smirking.

“yeah whatever.” you say laughing.

LAWDDDDDDD

Boy ain’t nobody listening to you talk 😮‍💨

you're not alone

omg …. i’m the only one who would fuck venom :(