That’s Hot.

That Damn Australian

Summary: Your relationship with Georgia isn't public knowledge, but after one big win, you decide time is up.

wc: 1,271

Contains: a singular kiss

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“Can you come to this one game, pleeeeeeaaaasssseeee?” your girlfriend whined for the umpteenth time. You and Georgia had been dating for almost two years, away from the media. You knew what type of backlash she could get, and you didn't want to add more to her plate than necessary.

She saw no issue with it, and as much as she wanted to tell the world that you were hers, she respected your boundaries and never posted you.

Over the past two years, she'd ask for your permission before she posted something even slightly attention-grabbing. You always said yes, and at this point the fans were becoming suspicious. What you knew would seal the deal is if you went to one of her games. You'd been, of course, but never in the stands, away from the cameras and anyone who might recognize you.

Georgia always asked for you to come to the games and be courtside, but you always refused and she never pushed you. She never made you feel pressured, but the longer you guys dated, the more in love you fell and the more you wanted to be present, regardless of who was there.

“Baby, you know I want to, but-”

“But you don't want to draw attention, yeah, yeah. I just wish you could be there.” She says, snuggling into your chest further as you lay in bed, legs interlocked.

“I know. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing shapes on her back. She tried to hide her disappointment, but you could always tell.

And you weren't gonna let it last for long.

Georgia walks out of your bedroom, while you sit on the couch, cuddled up under the blankets. She's got sweats and a Virginia tech hoodie on. She grabs her keys before making her way over to you. “Love you.” She mutters, not hiding her disappointment.

“Hey, wait, c’mere.” You say, pushing the blanket off your lap, standing up. Georgia turns around, and makes her way towards you.

You knew she really wanted you to go, she always did, but for some reason, this time it hurt more than usual. And if you asked her, she would have said it was just another big game, but that would be a lie.

“I'll make it up to you, okay? I'm sorry.” You say, pulling away. She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “It's okay, baby.”

You kiss her gently, before letting her go, smacking her ass as she turns around to leave. “Go get 'em for me.”

As soon as you heard her car pull off, you sprung from the couch and rushed to put your plan in action.

The ball soars through the air, as the audience silences. Game is tied 95-95, and your girlfriend just made the final shot from half court. The crowd roars as the final buzzer goes off, signaling a win for the Virginia Tech Hokies, the score 98 to 95. They just beat Marshall Thundering Herd in the NCAA Tournament.

The team celebrates mid court, surrounding Georgia. You can't help but smile, your heart filled with profound excitement for your girlfriend and her teammates. You know how hard they all worked to get to where they are, spending long hours practicing and perfecting plays.

Now, normally, you'd be in the front, courtside, so you could see the action first hand, but in order for this to work, you had to blend in. It was easy to dodge the cameras, mostly directing their attention to the game. It was the people, the people who've seen you two walking around campus, and the ones who stared at you two too long.

But that falls to the back of your mind as you see your girlfriend smiling brightly. Her teammates are in one group, but she stays behind. You observe as a flash of something in her face, the same look she had when she left the dorm.

After observing her for a bit, you decide you can't take the heartbreak anymore. You get up from the stands and make your way onto the floor. Her teammates recognize you immediately, but they don't say anything, as you slowly walk over to Georgia.

Her eyes dance around the players, not searching for anyone in particular, when they pause to lock onto yours for a moment, but continue skimming the room.

That's when realization hits Geargia, and she does a quick double take with a gasp. She lets out a squeal as she sprints over to you, almost tackling you into a bear hug.

You laugh as her arms wrap tightly around your waist, as your cross around the back of her neck. She sways you back and forth, for a split second, before lifting you up by the back of your thighs, to which you lift your legs to clasp around her hips. She's holding you longer than the two of you ever have on camera. You catch a glimpse of her teammates smiling at you both in adoration.

“Hi, baby.” You whisper to her, not hiding your mouth from the cameras, like you would typically do.

She pulls away, eyes glossy as she sniffles. You laugh lightly, wiping your own tears you didn't know were pooling. “Stop crying, you big baby.” You mutter to her.

Georgia lets out half laugh-half sob. “You first.” she looks up at you, the spark she was missing seemingly lit again. “How-Why are you here right now?”

“You really think I'd miss your big day?” You say teasingly. Her eyebrows raise, but she shakes her head. She doesn't say anything as her eyes trail down to your lips. “I really want to kiss you right now.” She whispers.

You look around, seeing cameras on you both, and instead of feeling nervous, like you usually would, you're excited. You want this. It's time.

“So do it.” You reply.

“Are you sure? I know how much you didn't want to be on film-” She says, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes, I'm sure.” You smile. “But baby, there's cameras every-” She reasons.

“Georgia.”

“Right.” She leans in, and your hands come around so you can cup her face. Her lips meet yours with invaluable enthusiasm, a representation of your undying support and devotion to each other.

You almost get lost in the kiss, your lips igniting a burning flame of your love, but you're brought back to reality by the claps and cheers of her teammates.

You smile, pulling away and meeting the shining eyes of your girlfriend. “I love you so fucking much.” she whispers as she places you down.

“You better, I'm missing the Bachelorette for this.” You frown playfully.

She throws her head back in laughter, and you can't help but stare at her in amazement. That damn laugh. The only sound that you could listen to forever.

“No, seriously, I want to see who she gives the rose to. Can we speed this up?” She rolls her eyes at your antics, but her face falls serious.

“I'm serious, thank you so much for being here.” Your heart flutters at her tone. “Of course. I know how much you wanted me to come to one, and even though I was scared as fuck, I got over it.” You smile.

“Because, nothing means more to me than you.”

She blushes, her eyes filling with tears. “Fuck.” She laughs.

You smile, which seems to be the only thing you can do when you're around her.

Because whether it's out of your comfort zone, there's nothing you wouldn't do for that damn Australian.

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taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie

And we thought Paige was bad

"Azzi, pose for the picture"

Azzi:

She’s adorable I can’t omg

what to do when you don't like an athlete

Hate both them and their game❌

Respect their game even if you don't like them as a person✅

Hope this helps!

DOMINATE - Paige Bueckers x Fem! Black Reader

Written March 22, 2024.

Warnings: angst, vulgar language, fluff, brief mentions of sex and sexuality.

You are Safiya

You and Paige have just gotten in from a house party that your cousin Anthony threw. All was well until one of his close friends, Camilla approached you, making advances toward you.

—

Your back rested upon the kitchen counter, a red cup in your hand filled halfway with vodka. The alcohol was getting to your head, and literally everything she was telling you seemed hilarious in the moment.

“Like, it was just so crazy because… she was dead serious! And we’re all just looking at her, but she was in her own world,” Camilla recalled as she told you about another experience she had at a different party of Anthony’s.

“Yeah well,” you shrugged, “some of us should probably be more like her,” you chuckled at the end of your sentence.

You had to yell a little over the loud music, but Camilla figured she’d make it a little easier by leaning into you. “Would you?” She inquired, “show me a little something,” Camilla beckoned with a smirk, daring you.

You snickered, “I said some of us. That doesn’t include me, I’m not really the dancing type.”

“It doesn’t hurt to let loose,” Camilla proposed. “Put the cup down, and let’s go dance.”

“Ahh..” you trailed off. “Fuck it.”

You abandoned your cup, pouring it out in the sink and followed Camilla as she led you through the crowd. You watched her first, trying to get a feel for how to match her energy.

She gyrated her hips, moving randomly, but you couldn’t deny that she looked good. You weren’t blind. She wore beige cargo pants, a white t-shirt from Goodfellow, and when her arms raised you could catch a glimpse of her boxers that rested gracefully on her hips. Just behind the band was a tattoo, but you couldn’t quite read it. Her hair was in a high bun, and she had a glowing smile.

And even the blind could see her aura. It was inviting and fun. Nothing too serious, which is why you eventually joined in. You were careful, at first, maintaining distance between yourselves, but as she minutes passed you got closer and closer to one another.

“Your Number” by Ayo Jay came on, and soon enough you found yourself damn near grinding on Camilla. You whined your hips slowly, your hands resting on your knees, and Camilla catching everything you were throwing.

Occasionally you would brush your coily hair out of your face, and your skin felt like it was on fire. All of the people in the house weren’t helping either as you all exchanged body heat.

Camilla hands found your hips, squeezing them as she brought you even closer, but you quickly brushed you off. You knew what you were doing, you aren’t stupid.

It was bad enough that you were throwing your ass back on someone other than your beloved girlfriend.

“Don’t touch,” you muttered, coming out of your bent over position.

“Damn, why’d you stop?” Camilla asked you, her hand coming up around your waist again. “Music’s still going.”

You swatted her hand away again.

“Yeah, babe, why’d you stop?” You heard Paige’s familiar voice from behind the both of you, her muscular arms crossed over her chest.

Before you could answer, she stood in front of you with your face in the firm grip of her hand. “Are you serious right now?” Paige gritted, narrowing her eyes at you. “No, no, actually, are you crazy? I know good and well that you aren’t stupid—“ she began to rant, her piercings globes never leaving yours.

A warm feeling spread within your chest, and your panties became damp. You tried your best to hide your smile as she expressed her anger, but you couldn’t help it.

“Is this funny to you?” She continued. Camilla got the hint, backing away into the crowd. Paige could smell the alcohol on your breath, and she knew exactly what was happening.

Usually she didn’t like to leave you alone at parties because she knew how people could be, but you’d convinced her that you two could do your own thing. Clearly that wouldn’t be happening again.

“Mm-mm,” you hummed, shaking your head.

Without words, Paige drug you through the party, and out of the front door, without even saying goodbye to Anthony or her friends. You did walk past them though, exchanging looks with them.

Paige pushed you in front of herself, watching you drunkenly stumble. “Walk,” she ordered. You guys took her car to the party and she’d parked a little down the block.

Your 1 inch heels slammed against the concrete, the sound filling your ears. That and the sound of cars speeding down the busy street. The temperature had dropped since you two got there, and goosebumps appeared on your arms. “I’m cold,” you whined, turning around toward her.

Paige rolled her eyes, shrugging off her unbuttoned button-up shirt and placing it on your own shoulders.

When you got the car, Paige opened the door for you, helping you get in, and then buckling you in. Even though she was upset with you, she wouldn’t forget her ways.

She get in on the driver’s side, turning on the heat for you.

You guys were about thirty minutes out from your joint apartment and you curled up in the seat after kicking off your heels. You’d shifted your body to face Paige, and you merely observed as she drove.

“P, I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?” You questioned, but she never answered. The road had all of her focus as she tried to get the two of you home safely.

You reached up, your ring clad hand grazing her jawline. You felt it clench and unclench. Paige was primarily trying to keep herself from leaning into your palm, but she just loved how it felt when you touched her.

Begrudgingly she brushed you off, placing your hand back in your lap.

—

And here you are, sitting on the couch of your living room with your face buried in the palms of your hands. You were still drowsy, but somewhat coming to your senses and you knew you fucked up.

Paige disappeared to the back of your apartment, presumably showering and getting changed. She’s been in there for about 25 minutes or so. The entire ride, not once did she speak to you.

You turned on the T.V., needing to fill the silence. Your mind was going a mile a minute and honestly it was killing you. You slowly made your way into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. Groaning you screwed your eyes shut, taking small sips. You’re a lightweight.

Your feet had begun to ache, and the sweat dried on your skin. An icky feeling covered your skin, but you didn’t even want to think about going near the bathroom. You wanted to give her space.

It wasn’t long before she came out, steam following her.

Her slippers padded against the floor and you could hear Paige nearing the kitchen. You never looked back though. Truthfully, you were a little scared to.

In her hand, she shook a bottle of Aspirin which you nearly lunged for. But before you could grab it, she held it above your head, the full length of her arm extended. “We need to talk first.”

You nodded, “of course.”

“Did you want her to fuck you, Saf?” Paige inquired with seriousness in her face.

“What? No!” You replied immediately. “Not ever. She’s not you so…”

She chuckled bitterly, “oh really? Did you have the same thought when you were grinding on someone else, who isn’t me?”

“I— it was a mistake,” you huffed. “I wasn’t going to let it go any further than that. I love you, not her!”

Paige huffed, running her hands down her face. “I don’t doubt that, but what were you expecting to get out of this— me catching you in the act?”

Your cheeks warmed, and you cleared your throat. “I-I was hoping that you’d…” you trailed off.

“You’re a big girl, say it,” Paige pushed you.

“I wanted you to… you know, punish me for it.”

Paige grabbed your hands at your sides, pulling you in. “You know how I feel about communicating. You tell me if there’s something that you want. Why didn’t you?

Truth be told, you missed Paige so much. She’d been away for games and there was only so much a phone call could do for you. When it came down the topic of how much you need her to touch you or caress you, you got a little anxious.

You knew that there was a deeper problem if you couldn’t communicate with your longtime partner about how you felt about your sex life.

You huffed, “I’m embarrassed by it.”

She opened up the bottle of Aspirin, shaking a tablet into your hand, and passed it off to you. “Why? Did I do something to make you feel this way?”

You shook your head vehemently, “no, never. I just don’t know how to express my desires, and I didn’t want you to think differently of me. I know I went about it in the worst way.”

“I love all parts of you,” Paige expressed, keeping eye contact. “I’d never look at you differently just because you want to be fucked like a slut sometimes,” she spoke with a comical tone, but you knew she also serious. “We’re learning together because we’re a team.”

“Of course,” you nodded. You knocked back the Aspirin, one hand still connected with Paige’s.

“Come on,” she pulled you in the direction of the back of your apartment. “I’ll run you some bath water.”

You follow gingerly, but suddenly Paige pushes you to walk in front of herself, just like she’d done earlier. The palm of her slender hand made contact with your backside and you let out a yelp.

Your head snapped back her, to which she winked. It was looking like your fantasy was about to come true.

SHES SO😭😭😭

BROOOOOOO

SHES AN IDIOT BUT SHES MY IDIOT

“till-” WE ARE NOT STOPPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The way she’s been feeding us w the low slick back bun😩🙏🏾

paige’s hands.

she’s def the type to compare your hand size with her’s just so she can flirt with u and hold ur hand

u gay girlys are SLEEPING on my wife… also im gonna start writing for her, so send in requests!!!!!