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pbpressure · 4 months ago

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BIG MAMA DELIVERED! AMENNNNN

ALL NIGHT. 3.8K WORDS. // paige bueckers. cw : fem!reader, fluff, alcohol consumption, oral, fingering, scissoring. // “with every tear, came redemption.” // beyonce.

summary. // after winning a national championship, all paige could think about was how proud you were.

ke speaks 🗣️. // it’s been a minute you guys. lemme just express how proud i am of this team, and this fandom i’ve been welcomed to🥹. not only have i met my girlfriend, some of of my bestest friends, and so many amazing people, ive grown to love writing and becoming a community. love you guys, and also thank you for 1.4k followers ❤️

You were there for it all. The ups, the downs, the highs—the lows.

But it was all worth it for the moment you saw her face in the crowd, the smile worth millions beaming on the big screen.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn's victory in the National Championship. Confetti rained down like a golden storm, and the sea of fans in the stands erupted into chaos. Your heart pounded, not just from the win, but from watching her—Paige Bueckers, your girlfriend, the star of the night—lift the trophy high above her head, her grin wide enough to light up the whole damn arena. She'd just balled out, dropping a cool seventeen points, and now she was a champion.

Your champion.

You were courtside, decked out in her jersey—number 5, of course—cheering so loud your throat was raw. When her eyes found yours through the madness, she winked, that cocky little smirk tugging at her lips.

God, she looked good when she knew she'd killed it. The team swarmed her, but she broke free just long enough to jog over, pulling you into a sweaty, bone-crushing hug over the barrier.

"We fuckin' did it, baby!" she yelled over the noise, her voice hoarse from shouting all game. Her arms were strong around you, and you could feel her heart racing against your chest.

"You did it, P!" you shouted back, laughing as she kissed your forehead, her lips warm and quick before she got dragged back into the celebration. You watched her go, your chest swelling with pride and something else-anticipation. Tonight was gonna be perfect.

Fast forward a couple hours, and the team decided to hit up a bar downtown to keep the vibes going. You'd gone home to change first, trading the jersey for something that'd make Paige's jaw drop.

You picked a black miniskirt, tight in all the right places, with a matching black shirt that made your tits sit just right—your sternum tat sitting pretty right in the middle.

When you met up with the team at the bar, Paige was already there, looking perfect in her dark wash jeans and graphic tee, chain peeking out just enough to tease. Her blonde hair was down, loose waves catching the dim lights, and when she saw you, her eyes widened.

"Yo, hold up," she said, stepping closer, her voice low and raspy. "You tryna leave early tonight, or sum’?” Her hands slid to your waist, pulling you in as she bit her lip, giving you that look—like she was already plotting how the night would end.

"You look good, P," you teased, running a hand down her chest. She smirked, leaning in to whisper, "Just be patient. We gon’ celebrate you tonight."

The bar was packed, music thumping, and the team was loud as hell—Azzi and Kaitlyn were already on their second round of shots, KK was dancing on a table, and Ice was trying to talk her down, laughing her ass off.

Paige kept you close, her arm slung around your shoulders as y'all sipped drinks and enjoyed each other. Every now and then, she'd lean over, lips brushing your ear to say something dirty or sweet—sometimes both.

"You proud of me, mama?" She asked at one point, her tone softer, almost needy under the bravado.

"Paige, I'm so proud of you," you said, turning to cup her face. "You're unreal out there. Best in the game, swear.”

She grinned, kissing you slow and deep right there in front of everybody, not caring who saw. "Love you, ma," she murmured against your lips, and your stomach flipped. The night was electric, but you were itching to get her alone.

By the time y'all stumbled out of the bar, it was past midnight, and the energy had shifted. The team was still hyped, but Paige's hand on your lower back told you she was ready to dip. "You wanna go to yours?" she said, her voice husky from the drinks and the vibe.

You didn't need convincing.

Your apartment wasn't far, and the second you hit the door, Paige was on you. She kicked it shut behind her, hands grabbing your hips as she pushed you against the wall, lips crashing into yours. It was messy, hungry, all tongues and teeth, and you moaned into it, tugging at her belt loops.

"Fuck, thought about you the whole time, baby," she growled, her breath hot against your neck as she kissed down it, sucking hard enough to leave marks. "You looked so good inna stands, couldn’t wait to touch you.

“Win or loss."

"Paige," you gasped, head tilting back as her hands roamed, slipping under your skirt to grip your thighs.

"You wanna get laid out, right?" Paige asks, a grin roaming across her face—her words seeming like a joke—but was all seriousness.

“Basically.”

She didn't waste time. Scooping you up like it was nothing, she carried you down the hall, your legs wrapped around her waist. You were kissing her the whole way, giggling when she almost tripped over your shoes by the door.

"All this giggling, you excited?" She laughed, kicking the bedroom door open and tossing you onto the bed.

You bounced once, propping up on your elbows to watch her strip off her shirt, her movements quick and deliberate. She caught you staring and smirked, taking her shirt off slow just to fuck with you. "You starin’."

"Shut up nd’ c'mere," you shot back, grabbing her by the waistband of her slacks when she got close enough. She laughed, climbing over you, and the weight of her body pinning you down sent a thrill through you.

Her lips found yours again, softer this time but still needy, and her hands were everywhere—tugging your skirt up, sliding over your skin. "You see how pretty this body is, baby," she mumbled, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

She pulled your skirt and shirt off you in one smooth motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties, and the way her eyes darkened made your breath hitch.

"Paige, please," you whined, arching into her touch as her fingers traced the edge of your underwear.

"Please what, mama? C’mon, I win a championship nd’ you still can’t use your words?" She teased, voice low as she kissed down your stomach, slow and torturous. "Tell me what you need."

"You," you breathed, hands tangling in her hair. "Want you fuckin’ me, baby."

She groaned at that, like your words flipped a switch. "Say less." Hooking her fingers in your panties, she yanked them down, tossing them somewhere behind her.

Then her mouth was on you, and one thing you knew—Paige didn't play when it came to this.

Her tongue moved like she'd memorized every spot that'd make you squirm, licking slow circles before sucking hard on your clit. You moaned loud, back arching off the bed, and she gripped your thighs to keep you still.

"Fuck, P… right there," you gasped, legs shaking as she ate you out like it was her last meal. She hummed against you, the vibration sending you spiraling, and when you looked down, her eyes were locked on yours, all smug and heated.

"Taste so good, mama," she mumbled between licks, and you were done for. Your hands tightened in her hair, hips grinding against her face as the pressure built, and she doubled down, tongue flicking faster until you came undone with a string of curses and her name on your lips.

She didn't stop until you were trembling, pulling back with a grin, her lips shiny and her chin wet. "That's one," she said, climbing back up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her. You were still catching your breath, but you flipped her over, straddling her hips.

"Gotta celebrate you next, yeah?" You said, voice shaky but determined. She raised a brow, smirking like she was daring you, and you started unbuttoning her jeans, shoving them down with her boxers.

She was soaked, and the sight of her—legs spread, looking up at you like you were her whole world—had you dripping all over again.

You kissed her hard, grinding down so your wetness brushed against hers, and she moaned into your mouth, hands gripping your ass to pull you closer. "Fuck, ma, you’re pussy’s drippin’." She rasped, and you grinned, sliding a hand between you to tease her with your fingers.

"Payback, baby," you whispered, slipping two fingers inside her. She cursed, head tipping back as you curled them, hitting that spot that made her gasp. Her hips bucked against your hand, and you added a third, pumping faster while your thumb circled her clit. She was loud—groaning, swearing, chanting your name like a prayer—and it was the sexiest thing you'd ever heard.

"Shit, mama, I'm—fuck, don't stop," she panted, and you didn't, pushing her over the edge until she clenched around you, her whole body shuddering as she came. You slowed down, kissing her through it, and when she finally opened her eyes, they were hazy, full of that post-high glow.

"Goddamn," she breathed, pulling you down for a sloppy, grateful kiss. "You're too good at that."

"We ain't done," you said, smirking as you shifted, lining yourself up so you could press against her, wet heat meeting wet heat. She groaned low, hands guiding your hips as you started moving, slow at first, then faster as the friction built.

Scissoring with Paige was next—level—y'all fit together like puzzle pieces, every slide sending sparks through you both.

"Fuck, ma. pussy feels so good," she moaned, head thrown back, abs flexing as she matched your rhythm. The room was all heat and noise-skin slapping, breaths hitching, curses bouncing off the walls. You were close again, and you could tell she was too, her grip tightening, her moans getting louder.

"Paige, I'm gonna—" you started, but she cut you off, pulling you down to kiss you as you both hit that peak together, bodies shaking, locked tight as the waves crashed over you. It was intense, messy, perfect, and when you finally collapsed beside her, both of you sweaty and spent, she pulled you into her arms, laughing softly.

"Best fuckin' celebration ever," she said, voice rough but warm, kissing the top of your head. You snuggled closer, tracing lazy circles on her stomach.

"Love you, P," you murmured, and she squeezed you tighter.

"Love you more, ma. Always."

The night faded into soft breaths and tangled limbs, the championship net forgotten somewhere downstairs. All that mattered was her—your Paige—and the way she held you like you were her whole world.

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