summary: reader is the student photographer/media girl for uconn athletics, which means she's basically always around the wbb team with a camera in her hand and too much denial in her chest. paige bueckers acts like she treats everybody the same, but the entire team knows that is a lie. especially kk, who has apparently made it her personal mission to get two painfully oblivious people to stop acting stupid.
warnings/content: soooo much fluff, mutual pining, team scheming, lowkey paige being jealous and down bad for reader, oblivious reader, kk being the cutest menace, no real angst, uconn wbb setting, slow burn tension.
author’s note: someone requested "pb and r both have crushes on eachother and they both just dont realize it so the uconn team has to scheme to get them together (fluff)" shoutout for anon who gave me the plot cuzz i had soooo much fun writing this. part 2 will be done by monday!
word count: i lost count.
You learned very quickly that there were different versions of Paige Bueckers.
There was the Paige everyone got on camera, the one who could walk into a gym with cameras already pointed at her and somehow make it look casual, like attention was just weather and she had learned to move through it without blinking. That Paige was all easy grins and loose shoulders, all tilted chin and quick jokes, the kind of confidence that made every clip usable because even when she was not trying, she looked like she knew exactly where the light was. There was the Paige her teammates got, louder and dumber in the best way, collapsing into laughter with KK over some joke that barely made sense, arguing with Nika about something small and dramatic, tossing a ball across the gym with one hand while pretending she had not been listening to every single conversation around her. Then there was the Paige you got, and the problem was that you did not know it was different until other people started looking at you like you were insane for missing it.
You were not on the team. That was the thing you kept reminding yourself whenever your brain got too bold, whenever Paige did something tiny and stupid and sweet enough to make you forget how normal friends were supposed to act. You were just part of the athletics media staff, technically a student photographer, technically the girl who helped shoot practice content, behind-the-scenes clips, warmup photos, short-form edits, and whatever else the department needed when someone wanted the team to look good online. You were around because you were good with a camera, because you knew how to catch motion without making it look stiff, because you had an eye for the kind of candid moments fans ate up before the team even realized those moments existed. You were around because it was your job. That was it. That was the line you had drawn for yourself the first month you started working with them, and it had been very helpful, very mature, very professional—until Paige Bueckers started treating the line like something she could dribble around.
At first, you thought she was just like that. Paige had that kind of personality, the type that made closeness seem easy, like she could lean over your shoulder to look at a camera screen and not realize your entire nervous system had just gone into manual mode. She was friendly, playful, nosy in a way that felt natural on her. She would ask to see photos before you were done sorting through them, squint at the screen like she understood your settings, then say something deeply unhelpful like, “Yeah, that one’s tough,” while pointing at a blurry warmup shot you had already planned to delete. She stole your water once because she claimed hers was too far away, even though hers was three feet behind her. She learned your class schedule by accident, or at least she said it was by accident, because after a late practice shoot she had glanced at you packing up and asked, “You got that art history thing tomorrow morning, right?” with the kind of casualness that made you pause with your camera halfway into your bag.
“Photography history,” you had corrected, mostly because you needed something to do with your mouth before it betrayed you.
Paige had only shrugged, rocking back on her heels, sweat still drying at the edge of her hairline and her practice shirt clinging to her shoulders in a way you were determined not to notice. “Same thing.”
“It is literally not the same thing.”
“You take pictures. History. Boom. Photography history.”
“That was almost impressive, actually. Like, the confidence for someone so wrong?”
She had grinned at that, bright and pleased like getting you to argue with her was the whole point, and then she had reached down before you could stop her, taking the heavier equipment bag off the floor with one hand. “You walking back?”
“I can carry that.”
“Didn’t ask if you could.”
You remembered staring at her for a second too long, trying to decide whether she was being annoying or kind, and landing somewhere dangerous in the middle. “You know I do this literally every week, right?”
“Good thing I’m here this week, then.”
That should have been your first sign. Maybe your second, if you counted the time she had noticed you were cold during a media day shoot and had tossed her hoodie at you without even looking directly at you, like the gesture was so automatic it did not require discussion. You had been standing near the baseline with your camera strap cutting across your chest, trying not to shiver because Gampel had that specific indoor chill that never seemed to care what season it was, and Paige had been mid-conversation with Azzi when she suddenly pulled the hoodie over her head and threw it in your direction. You had barely caught it against your stomach. It smelled like laundry detergent and something warm you refused to put a name to.
“You’re shaking the camera,” Paige had said, still not making a big deal out of it.
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“I have stabilization.”
“Cool. Now you got a hoodie too.”
Azzi had looked between you both with an expression so calm it was somehow louder than if she had screamed. You ignored it. You put the hoodie on because you were cold, not because Paige’s eyes flickered over you for half a second after you did, not because her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile. You told yourself this was normal. Teammates shared stuff all the time. Friends shared stuff. Paige probably gave people hoodies constantly. Paige probably remembered everyone’s class schedule and stole everyone’s camera to take unflattering point-five selfies and walked everyone back after late shoots because campus got dark and she “was going that way anyway,” even when she absolutely was not.
The team did not agree.
KK was the first one who made it a problem.
You were sitting on the floor near the side of the practice court one afternoon, legs crossed, laptop balanced on your knees as you skimmed through a folder of photos from warmups. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but the gym still had that leftover energy clinging to it, sneakers squeaking somewhere in the distance, someone laughing too loudly near the tunnel, the faint echo of a ball bouncing even after everyone should have been done. You were supposed to be narrowing down photos for a game-day post, but Paige had taken it upon herself to hover beside you, one knee bent as she leaned over your shoulder, her hand braced on the floor close enough to your hip that you could see the veins across the back of it every time you looked down.
“Delete that one,” Paige said.
You did not look at her. “I’m not taking editing notes from the subject.”
“I’m helping you.”
“You are insulting my work.”
“That’s not work. That’s a crime. Why you got me looking like that?”
“You mean like your face?”
Paige made a noise under her breath, amused and offended at once, and leaned a little closer to look at the screen. “You’re funny today.”
“I’m funny every day. You just don’t listen.”
“I listen to you.”
It was too easy, the way she said it. Too quick. Too soft under the noise of the gym. Your fingers paused over the trackpad for maybe half a second, not enough for a normal person to notice but apparently enough for KK, who had wandered over with a water bottle in one hand and the kind of grin that made you instantly suspicious.
“Oh, you listen to her?” KK said, drawing the words out like she had just discovered evidence at a crime scene. “That’s crazy, because you don’t listen to nobody else.”
Paige straightened immediately, which was funny because she had no reason to look caught. “I listen.”
KK looked at you. Then at Paige. Then back at you. “She do not listen.”
“I literally listen,” Paige said.
“Nika told you to move your shoes out the locker room walkway four times yesterday and you looked her dead in the face and walked away.”
Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a smile pulling at her mouth. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because that was Nika.”
“See?” KK pointed at her like she had just proven her entire argument. “But Y/N says one thing and you’re all, ‘yeah, okay, you need help with that bag? you cold? you hungry? you want my hoodie? you want my whole apartment?’”
Your face warmed so fast that you had to look down at your laptop, pretending to adjust the brightness. “KK.”
“What?” she said, all innocence and no shame. “I’m just observing.”
“You observe too much.”
“I’m a point guard. That’s my job.”
Paige scoffed, but she did not deny it fast enough. That was what made it worse. She just stood there with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed at KK in warning, like she was trying to intimidate a freshman who had absolutely no interest in being intimidated. “You done?”
KK grinned wider. “Not really.”
“You should be.”
“You mad because I’m right?”
“I’m not mad.”
“You look mad.”
“I always look like this.”
“You look like you wanna throw me into the stands.”
Paige’s jaw shifted, and for one wildly embarrassing second, you thought about how much you liked watching her try not to smile. That was the thing about Paige. She was not hard to read exactly, but she had layers of defense, little habits she used to keep things from looking too serious. A joke when something landed too close. A smirk when she felt exposed. A roll of her eyes when somebody said something true. You had photographed her enough to know the difference between her camera face and her real face, but knowing that felt intimate in a way you did not want to examine too closely.
“I think the photos look good,” you said, because the moment had started to feel like it had teeth.
Paige’s eyes dropped back to you immediately. “Yeah?”
There it was again. That shift. Not huge, not dramatic, but enough. With KK, she was all attitude. With you, her voice settled. With you, she looked for your reaction before she let herself have one. You were not sure what to do with that, so you turned the laptop slightly in her direction and showed her a shot of herself mid-laugh, head tipped back, eyes crinkled, one hand lifted like she was about to shove Azzi away from her. It was warm and bright and annoyingly perfect. Paige looked at it for a moment, then nodded like she was trying to be humble and failing.
“That one’s hard.”
“You say that about every good photo of yourself.”
“Because they’re hard.”
“You’re so humble.”
“I know. It’s a gift.”
KK made a gagging sound. “This is disgusting.”
You shut the laptop halfway, laughing despite yourself. “What is?”
“Whatever this is.” She waved a hand between you and Paige. “I feel like I’m interrupting something and y’all not even doing anything.”
Paige looked at her sharply. “Then leave.”
KK’s mouth dropped open with delight. “Oh?”
“I meant because you’re annoying.”
“No, no, no, say less. I’m leaving. Y’all need privacy for photo editing.”
“KK,” you warned, but you were smiling, and that only made her worse.
She backed away dramatically, still pointing at both of you. “I support this. Whatever this is. I support women in media. I support women in basketball. I support delusion. I support love.”
“There’s no love,” you said too quickly.
The gym seemed to get quiet at the worst possible time. Paige looked down at you, and the humor on her face did not disappear, not completely, but it changed shape. It softened into something you could not name without feeling ridiculous. You hated that you had said it like that, hated that you sounded defensive, hated that some tiny part of you wanted to check if Paige looked bothered by it. But she only nudged your sneaker lightly with the toe of hers and said, “Damn, okay,” like she was joking, like it was nothing, like your stomach had not twisted.
KK froze three steps away. “Interesting.”
“Go away,” Paige said.
“I’m going, I’m going.” KK lifted both hands, but she was smiling like she had just been handed the first page of a playbook. “But I saw that.”
You watched her leave, then looked back down at your laptop, trying to gather whatever was left of your dignity. “She’s dramatic.”
“She’s nosy.”
“She’s sweet.”
“She’s annoying.”
“You like her.”
Paige tilted her head. “Yeah. Still annoying.”
You smiled, opening the laptop again because if your hands were busy, maybe your chest would stop doing that weird fluttery thing. “She’s going to keep saying stuff now.”
“Let her.”
You blinked. Paige was looking at the screen, not at you, but her shoulder was close enough that you could feel the warmth of her beside you. “Let her?”
“She don’t know what she’s talking about.”
The answer should have been comforting. It should have put everything back where it belonged, in the safe little folder labeled jokes and teammate teasing and nothing serious. Instead, it felt like a door closing gently before you could decide whether you wanted to walk through it. You hummed, pretending to study a photo of Ice celebrating after a made three, and told yourself you were being stupid. Paige was Paige. She was friendly. She was charming. She was the kind of person people watched too closely because she made things look meaningful even when they were not.
You were not special.
That thought lasted until she reached over, took the edge of your camera strap where it had twisted near your collarbone, and fixed it with careful fingers.
“You always let this thing sit weird,” she said.
Your breath caught so quietly you hoped the gym swallowed it. “It’s a strap, Paige.”
“It’s gonna bother your neck.”
“You’re weirdly concerned about my neck.”
The second it left your mouth, you regretted it. Paige paused, eyes flicking to yours with a spark of amusement so quick it felt like a match striking. For a second, she looked like she was going to say something cocky, something that would make you shove her away and laugh too loud. But then her fingers dropped from the strap, knuckles brushing the fabric of your sweatshirt, and she only said, “Somebody gotta be.”
By the time you left the gym that night, KK had already texted you three times.
The first message was just eyes. The second was a blurry photo she had clearly taken from across the gym of Paige leaning over your shoulder, the angle terrible and incriminating. The third said, be honest.
You stopped walking outside Gampel, the cold air hitting your face as you stared down at your phone. Around you, campus was dark in that early evening way, blue-black sky, yellow windows, the distant sound of someone shouting near the sidewalk. You could hear the team behind you, voices spilling out of the building in a cluster, sneakers dragging, laughter bouncing. You typed back before you could overthink it.
about what?
KK replied instantly.
girl.
You rolled your eyes even though she could not see it.
use words.
The next message came with terrifying speed.
paige.
You stared at the name longer than necessary. It was only five letters. It should not have made your pulse act stupid.
what about paige?
KK sent a voice message. You did not play it. Absolutely not. Not with Paige walking out of the building behind you, hood up, backpack slung over one shoulder, her head turning toward you like she had already expected you to be there. She said something to Azzi, then broke away from the group without making it look like a big decision. That was one of her talents, you were starting to realize. Paige could make deliberate things look casual. She could cross a room for you like she had simply drifted there.
“You good?” she asked, slowing beside you.
You locked your phone so fast it was embarrassing. “Yeah.”
“You look guilty.”
“I’m not.”
“That was suspiciously quick.”
“You always accuse people like you’re a detective.”
“I got instincts.”
“You have nosiness.”
“Same thing.”
She fell into step with you like it was routine, like she had not come out with the rest of the team and then chosen your pace instead. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, but before you could get it settled, Paige’s hand was already there, lifting the strap slightly to ease the weight.
“I got it,” you said.
“I know.”
“You do this every time.”
“And every time you act shocked.”
“Because it’s my equipment.”
“And I’m carrying it.”
“You’re not even going toward my building.”
Paige glanced at you, eyes bright under the edge of her hood. “You tracking me now?”
“You literally live the other way.”
“Maybe I like the scenic route.”
“There is no scenic route. It’s campus.”
“Campus can be scenic.”
“Name one scenic thing.”
Paige looked around, pretending to think deeply. The sidewalk stretched ahead, damp from earlier rain, streetlights reflected in small patches across the concrete. A couple of students passed by laughing, bundled in hoodies and jackets, one of them glancing at Paige and then quickly pretending not to. Paige ignored it in the practiced way she ignored most attention, but when her eyes came back to you, the grin she gave you felt private.
“You,” she said, and then immediately looked forward like she had not just ruined your ability to walk normally.
You almost tripped over nothing.
Paige laughed under her breath, low and pleased. “Careful.”
“Shut up.”
“What? I answered.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You asked.”
“I asked for a scenic thing, not for you to be corny.”
“That wasn’t corny. That was smooth.”
“That was terrible.”
“You smiling though.”
You were. You hated that you were. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked away, but that only made her laugh again, and the sound settled somewhere warm in your ribs before you could stop it. Maybe that was why you missed the way KK and Ice were watching from several yards behind you, huddled together like they were witnessing live television. Maybe that was why you did not see KK slap Ice’s arm repeatedly, silent screaming with her whole body while Ice tried to pull out her phone again. Maybe that was why, when Paige walked you all the way to your building and handed your bag back with a soft little “text me when you finish editing,” you nodded like that was a normal thing for her to ask.
It was not until you got upstairs, kicked off your shoes, and finally played KK’s voice message that you realized you had a problem.
“Y/N,” KK’s voice hissed through your phone, full of barely contained laughter, “I’m saying this with love because you my girl, but you cannot be this dumb forever. Paige does not act like that with everybody. She does not. I have eyes. The team has eyes. The walls have eyes. She likes you. And before you say ‘no she doesn’t, that’s just Paige,’ I need you to know that I already know you’re gonna say that and you’re wrong. Okay. Love you. Bye.”
You stood in the middle of your room with your coat still on, staring at the message like it had personally attacked you.
Then, because you apparently had no self-preservation, you whispered, “No she doesn’t. That’s just Paige.”
Your phone buzzed immediately after, like the universe had comedic timing.
paige: send me the ones from today when u done
paige: not the ugly ones tho
paige: actually send those too
paige: i know u got jokes
You stared at the texts until your mouth started doing something dangerously close to a smile. Then you opened the thread and typed back.
y/n: why would i send ugly photos to the subject
paige: bc u like bullying me
y/n: maybe stop making bullyable faces
paige: bullyable is crazy
paige: that even a word?
y/n: it is now
paige: photography history major making words up
y/n: still not my major
paige: same thing
You sat down on your bed with your laptop still in your bag and Paige’s hoodie still folded over your desk chair from the last time she had given it to you and forgotten to ask for it back. Or maybe she had not forgotten. You did not know anymore, and that was the problem. Once someone pointed out a pattern, it became impossible not to see it everywhere. Paige texting you after practice was normal, except it happened almost every time you shot content. Paige asking for photos was normal, except she used it as an excuse to keep talking long after you had sent them. Paige carrying your bag was normal, except no one else did it. Paige calling you out when you skipped dinner to edit was normal, except she was the one who showed up ten minutes later with food and said, “Don’t make it weird, I was already getting some,” even when the receipt had your exact order on it.
Maybe you had been ignoring it because noticing felt too risky. Because Paige was not just some girl from your class who borrowed pencils and sat too close during lectures. She was Paige. She was the name people chanted from the stands, the face on edits, the athlete everybody watched, the person who somehow seemed both untouchable and unbearably human when she was standing in front of you complaining that you made her look short in a photo. Liking her felt like standing too close to a camera flash. Bright, stupid, impossible to pretend you did not see.
So you did what any reasonable person would do.
You ignored KK.
For exactly two days.
It might have lasted longer if KK had not decided subtlety was beneath her.
The next time you were assigned to shoot a short behind-the-scenes piece for the women’s basketball team, the media room was already loud when you arrived. It was supposed to be a simple content day, nothing intense, just quick portraits, a few candid clips, and some fun team questions for social. The kind of shoot where the players rotated through stations, answered prompts, laughed at each other, and pretended they hated being filmed while secretly making sure their hair looked right. You liked those days because they were less rigid than game coverage. You could catch personalities better. You could get Ice laughing with her whole face, Nika rolling her eyes at something off-camera, Azzi smiling softly when someone else said something ridiculous, KK doing too much on purpose because she knew it would make the edit.
Paige was already there when you walked in.
That should not have mattered. It did.
She was sitting backward on a chair near the backdrop, arms folded over the top of it, talking to Aubrey with her head tilted slightly, hair pulled back, a gray UConn hoodie loose over her frame. She looked comfortable, too comfortable, like the room had arranged itself around her without asking. Then she saw you, and her expression shifted before she could stop it. It was not a huge smile. It was worse. A small one. A real one. The kind that tugged at one corner of her mouth and softened her eyes for half a second before she covered it with a nod.
“Photographer girl,” she called.
You tried not to smile. “Basketball girl.”
KK, who was sitting nearby, immediately looked at Ice.
Ice looked at KK.
You pretended not to see either of them.
Paige pushed herself up from the chair and wandered over while you set your camera bag on a table. “You shooting today?”
“No, I brought all this for decoration.”
“Smart mouth already.”
“It’s noon.”
“Exactly. Early.”
“You’re sensitive.”
“You’re mean.”
“You keep coming over here, though.”
Paige’s eyes stayed on yours for a beat too long. “Maybe I like being bullied.”
From across the room, KK made a strangled noise into her sleeve.
You looked away first, busying yourself with your camera because your hands needed a job. “Go get ready. I need lighting tests.”
“I’m ready.”
“You are not.”
Paige looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem. You look too comfortable.”
“Damn, my bad for looking comfortable.”
You laughed, and Paige grinned like she had earned something.
The shoot started messy, because it always did. Someone kept walking into the frame. KK answered every question like she was auditioning for her own reality show. Nika complained that the prompts were stupid and then gave the funniest answers. Ice tried to be normal and failed because KK kept whispering things beside her. Paige was supposed to rotate in after Azzi, but she kept drifting toward your station between takes, looking at the monitor, asking what lens you were using, making comments that were half genuine interest and half excuse to stand close enough for her sleeve to brush yours.
At some point, one of the male student interns from the athletics department came in carrying extra batteries and a clipboard. His name was Tyler, you thought. Maybe Travis. Something with a T. He had helped on shoots before, mostly football and men’s basketball, and he was nice enough in that vaguely overconfident way some guys got when they realized they were not bad-looking. He set the batteries down beside you and leaned over to look at the camera screen.
“These are clean,” he said. “You shot the last game too, right?”
You nodded, adjusting the focus. “Yeah. The second half mostly.”
“I saw those photos. They were fire.”
“Thank you.”
“No, like actually. You made the lighting look way better than it is in here.” He smiled, and you smiled back because that was polite, because he was complimenting your work, because nothing about the interaction felt like anything worth noticing.
Except Paige noticed.
You did not see it at first. You were checking exposure, listening as Tyler asked what lens you liked using for indoor sports, answering easily because photography was one of the few things you could talk about without getting nervous. But then the room shifted. Not loudly. Not enough that anyone who was not already watching would catch it. Paige stopped joking with Azzi. Her shoulders squared slightly. The ball she had been spinning in her hands slowed, then stopped. Her eyes moved from Tyler to you, then to the camera screen where he was still leaning a little too close.
KK saw it immediately.
Of course she did.
She had been sitting on the floor near the wall, waiting for her turn, and the second Paige’s expression changed, KK’s eyebrows shot up like she had just been handed a gift from God. She nudged Ice with her elbow. Ice looked over, followed her gaze, then pressed her lips together so hard it was obvious she was trying not to laugh.
Paige did not say anything. That was the thing. She was not obvious. She did not storm over or interrupt or do anything dramatic. She simply walked to your side of the room with the calm, deliberate pace of someone who had decided she had every right to be there. When she reached you, she did not look at Tyler first. She looked at the camera.
“You need me?” she asked.
You blinked up at her. “For what?”
“You said lighting test.”
“That was like ten minutes ago.”
“Still need it?”
Tyler glanced at Paige, then at you, then back at Paige. “I think she’s good. We were just talking lenses.”
Paige finally looked at him.
It was not a glare. Paige was too smart for that, too aware of rooms, too aware of how quickly people could read her if she gave them too much. But it was something close. A flat, unimpressed look wrapped in a half-smile, the kind of expression that said who are you without wasting the words. Lowkey. Polite enough to deny. Sharp enough to feel.
“Cool,” Paige said.
Tyler’s smile faltered just slightly. “Yeah.”
You looked between them, confused by the sudden weirdness in the air. “Paige, I’ll call you when I need you.”
“You can call me now.”
“I don’t need you now.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Paige nodded slowly, like she was accepting that answer under protest. Then she reached past you, picked up one of the spare batteries Tyler had brought, and turned it in her hand. “This charged?”
Tyler cleared his throat. “Yeah, all of them.”
Paige nodded again. “Good.”
The silence that followed was so strange you almost laughed, but KK did it for you from across the room, badly disguising it as a cough. You shot her a look. She widened her eyes like she had no idea what you were accusing her of.
“Okay,” you said, taking the battery gently from Paige’s hand. “Thank you for your very helpful battery inspection.”
Paige’s mouth twitched. “Anytime.”
“You can go now.”
“Bossy.”
“I’m literally working.”
“And I’m helping.”
“You are standing.”
“Supportively.”
Tyler looked like he was trying to decide whether to leave or evaporate. “I’m gonna check with the main desk.”
“Thanks,” you said, smiling at him because again, polite, normal, nothing. “I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
Paige made a tiny sound under her breath.
You turned to her the second Tyler walked away. “What?”
“What?”
“You made a noise.”
“I breathe.”
“That was not breathing.”
“Damn, you monitor my breathing now?”
“Paige.”
She lifted both hands, but the look on her face was still wrong. Not angry exactly. Not even jealous in a way you could confidently accuse her of. Just irritated beneath the surface, like something had gotten under her skin and she was pretending it had not. “What?”
“Why are you being weird?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I came to help.”
“With batteries?”
“Important job.”
“You don’t even know which ones fit my camera.”
“I could learn.”
You stared at her, and she stared back, stubborn as ever. The room moved around you, players laughing, someone calling for the next prompt, the media assistant adjusting the tripod, but for a second all of it blurred into background noise. Paige’s jaw was set just enough for you to notice. Her eyes flicked once toward where Tyler had disappeared, then back to you. Something warm and reckless bloomed in your chest before you could stop it, the kind of feeling that made you want to ask a dangerous question just to see what her face would do.
Instead, you said, “You’re distracting me.”
Paige leaned a fraction closer, the irritation easing into something more familiar, more playful, because this was safer ground and you both knew it. “Am I?”
Your mouth went dry.
KK yelled from across the room, “Y/N, do you need me to remove distractions?”
Paige turned her head slowly. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say your name,” KK said, grinning.
“You ain’t have to.”
“I just care about the workplace environment.”
“You care about being in people’s business.”
“Same thing.”
You pressed a hand over your face, but you were laughing now, and Paige looked pleased with herself even though she was still standing too close. That was the most annoying part. She could be jealous, or whatever that had been, and then make you laugh two seconds later like your brain was supposed to keep up. You hated how good she was at slipping out of moments before they could fully become something.
The rest of the shoot continued with the team in full chaos mode, but after Tyler left, Paige stayed near your station more than she needed to. She kept pretending there was a reason. She needed water from the table behind you. She wanted to see the last take. She was asking what question she had to answer next. She was checking whether the camera was “making her look tall,” which you told her no lens on earth had that kind of power. She gasped like you had wounded her, then spent the next five minutes trying to stand straighter every time you lifted the camera.
KK, meanwhile, watched everything like she was collecting evidence for court.
By the time the shoot ended, you were exhausted in the way that came from too much noise, too much light, and too much Paige. Your memory card was full, your shoulders ached from holding the camera, and your brain kept replaying the exact look Paige had given Tyler even though you had told it several times to stop. Everyone was packing up, drifting toward the exit in groups, when you crouched near your bag to organize your batteries. You heard footsteps before you saw her.
Paige crouched beside you.
“You need help?”
You did not look up. “With batteries?”
“With anything.”
“You ask that a lot.”
“You need help a lot.”
“I do not.”
“You carry too much.”
“That’s literally my job.”
“Your job is taking pictures. Not breaking your back.”
You glanced at her then, and the softness of her expression caught you off guard. There was no audience in her face now, no cockiness, no performance. Just Paige, close and quiet, one hand resting on her knee, watching you like your answer mattered. It made you want to look away. It made you want to lean closer. Both instincts were equally inconvenient.
“I’m fine,” you said, gentler than you meant to.
Paige nodded, but she still reached for the heavier bag. “Cool. I’m still carrying this.”
“Paige.”
“Y/N.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I been told.”
You sighed, but you let her take it, because some battles were fake and both of you knew it. As you stood, KK appeared beside you like she had been summoned by the scent of romantic tension. She looked at Paige holding your bag, then at you, then back at Paige.
“Wow,” KK said. “So helpful.”
Paige gave her a warning look. “You need something?”
KK smiled sweetly. “No. I just love seeing community service.”
“It’s not community service,” you said.
“You’re right. It’s devotion.”
“KK.”
“What? I’m using my vocabulary.”
Paige shifted the bag higher on her shoulder, but the tips of her ears had gone faintly pink. You noticed because you were cursed. “You always this annoying after shoots?”
KK tilted her head. “You always carry media girls’ bags after shoots?”
There was a beat.
Not long. Just enough.
Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Media girls?”
KK shrugged, too innocent. “That’s what she is, right? Student photographer. Media girl. Very talented. Very pretty. Gets compliments from random interns. Has certain people acting different.”
Your stomach dropped and flipped at the same time. “KK, please.”
Paige did not look at you. She looked at KK, and the flatness from earlier returned for half a second. “You done?”
KK’s grin softened just slightly, like she knew exactly how far to push and when to pull back. “For now.”
“For now,” Paige repeated under her breath.
“You walking her back?”
Paige’s answer came too quickly. “Yeah.”
KK’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t ask you.”
You closed your eyes. “Oh my god.”
Paige opened her mouth, shut it, then shook her head like she could not believe she had walked right into that. KK looked delighted. Ice, who had wandered over just in time to hear the exchange, covered her mouth with both hands.
“You know what?” Paige said, pointing at KK. “You’re benched from talking.”
“Can’t bench me. I’m essential.”
“To who?”
“To this plot.”
You blinked. “This what?”
KK froze, then smiled. “Nothing.”
Paige stared at her. “You’re weird.”
“And yet I’m right all the time.”
“You are literally never right.”
“I’m right about this.”
You did not ask what this meant. You already knew. Or at least, you knew what KK wanted it to mean, and that was dangerous enough. So you grabbed your smaller bag, thanked the staff still cleaning up, and started toward the hallway before KK could say anything else that made your heart attempt to exit your body.
Paige followed, of course.
She always did.
The hallway outside the media room was quieter, the overhead lights humming softly, the walls lined with UConn graphics and framed photos that made every step feel like walking through a history you were only borrowing. Paige walked beside you with your equipment bag over her shoulder, her pace slower than usual so you did not have to rush. For once, neither of you said anything right away. The silence was not awkward, exactly, but it was full. Full of KK’s teasing, full of Tyler’s compliment, full of Paige’s strange little battery inspection, full of every moment you had been pretending not to notice for weeks.
“You like him?” Paige asked suddenly.
Your head snapped toward her. “What?”
She kept looking forward. “The intern.”
“Tyler?”
“That his name?”
“You know that’s his name.”
“I don’t know that man.”
You almost laughed. “He works with athletics.”
“So do a lot of people.”
“He was being nice.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t.”
“You kind of looked like you wanted him removed from the building.”
Paige huffed, but there was no real humor in it. “I did not.”
“You did.”
“I looked normal.”
“You looked like you were mentally asking who he thought he was.”
That made her mouth twitch, but she fought it. “Maybe he was standing too close to your camera.”
“My camera?”
“Expensive equipment.”
“So you were protecting my camera?”
“Exactly.”
“From a guy who brought batteries?”
“Could’ve been a threat.”
You laughed then, unable to help it, and Paige finally looked at you. There was something relieved in her expression, like making you laugh had loosened whatever had been sitting in her chest. But there was something else too, something low and stubborn that did not fully leave her eyes.
“He was complimenting my photos,” you said.
Paige shrugged. “They’re good.”
“You compliment my photos.”
“Because they’re good.”
“So what’s the difference?”
The question slipped out softer than you intended. Paige’s steps slowed for half a second, and the hallway seemed to stretch around you. She looked at you like she knew there was an easy answer and a true answer, and for once she could not decide which one to give.
Then she smirked.
“Difference is I got better taste.”
You groaned, shoving her lightly in the arm. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, you’re jealous of a battery man.”
Paige stopped walking.
You stopped too, turning back to face her with your heart suddenly beating too hard for a joke. The word had come out before you could soften it, before you could tuck it safely behind sarcasm. Jealous. It hung between you, bright and obvious. Paige’s face changed, not dramatically, but enough. The smirk stayed, but her eyes sharpened, and for a moment she looked almost challenged.
“Jealous?” she said.
You swallowed. “I’m kidding.”
“You sure?”
No. “Yes.”
Paige stepped closer, just one step, but the hallway was empty enough that it felt louder than it was. Your equipment bag hung from her shoulder. Her hoodie sleeves covered part of her hands. She looked comfortable and dangerous and way too pleased with how quickly you had lost your nerve.
“I don’t get jealous,” she said.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to recover. “No?”
“Nah.”
“Right. You just inspect batteries aggressively.”
“Exactly.”
“And ask if I like random interns.”
“Conversation.”
“And stare like you’re about to start a fight.”
“I’m from Minnesota. That’s just my face.”
You laughed again, because she was ridiculous, because you were nervous, because the space between you had started to feel too small. Paige smiled at the sound, and the sharpness in her face softened into something that made the joke feel less like a joke. For a second, you thought she might say something else. Something real. Something that would make KK insufferable forever.
But then voices echoed from behind you, the rest of the team spilling into the hallway, and Paige stepped back before anyone could see how close she had gotten.
“There they are,” KK called, sounding far too happy. “The media department and her security detail.”
Paige turned around slowly. “KK.”
“What? I love safety.”
You looked down, smiling despite yourself, but your chest still felt strange. Like something had almost happened and then politely decided not to. Paige started walking again, and you followed, the team catching up around you in a wave of noise and laughter. KK slipped beside you, bumping her shoulder into yours gently.
“She jealous?” she whispered.
“No,” you whispered back.
KK’s eyes went wide with theatrical disbelief. “Girl.”
“She said she doesn’t get jealous.”
“Oh, well, if Paige said it, it must be true. Paige never lies. Paige is famously emotionally honest.”
You bit back a laugh. “Stop.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You do. Bad.”
Ahead of you, Paige looked back, eyes narrowing like she knew she was being discussed. KK smiled at her and wiggled her fingers. Paige rolled her eyes, but her gaze slid to you afterward, lingering just long enough to make your stomach twist again.
You hated that KK might be right.
You hated even more that you wanted her to be.
By the time Paige walked you back to your building again, the sky had gone dark and the air had sharpened with cold. She carried your bag the whole way without asking this time, and you let her without arguing, which felt like its own kind of confession. The conversation was easy on the surface. She complained about KK. You defended KK. She called you loyal. You called her dramatic. She asked when the photos would be done. You told her not to rush art. She said your “art” included pictures of her blinking. You told her those were your favorites. She looked offended for exactly two seconds before smiling.
At your building entrance, she handed the bag back but did not leave right away.
“You editing tonight?” she asked.
“Probably.”
“You eat?”
You gave her a look. “Paige.”
“What?”
“You ask me that all the time.”
“Because you don’t.”
“I do.”
“Coffee is not dinner.”
“It can be.”
“It cannot.”
“You’re very passionate about this.”
“Somebody has to keep you alive so you can keep making me look good.”
“There it is. Self-interest.”
Paige grinned. “Always.”
But she stayed there, hands tucked into her hoodie pocket, watching you like she was waiting for something. You wondered if this was what KK meant. Not the big stuff, not the teasing or the bag-carrying or the jealousy dressed up as camera protection. This. The staying. The way Paige lingered in small endings, stretching goodbyes until they became something softer. The way she looked at you like leaving was easy but not preferred.
“I’ll eat,” you said finally.
Paige nodded, satisfied. “Good.”
“You too.”
“I always eat.”
“That is actually believable.”
“Damn.”
You smiled, shifting the bag on your shoulder. “Thanks for carrying this.”
“Anytime.”
“You always say that.”
“Because I mean it.”
There it was again, too simple and too much. You looked at her, and for once you did not immediately make a joke. Paige did not either. The quiet wrapped around you both, broken only by the muffled sound of someone entering the building behind you and the distant hum of campus. You wondered what would happen if you asked her why. Why she always offered. Why she cared if you ate. Why she looked at Tyler like that. Why she fixed your camera strap with careful fingers and remembered your classes and gave you hoodies and walked the wrong direction just to stand with you under bad dorm entrance lighting.
Instead, you said, “Text me if you want previews.”
Paige’s smile came back, small and private. “When.”
“What?”
“When I want previews. Not if.”
“You’re so entitled.”
“Only with you.”
You did not have an answer for that.
Paige seemed to realize it at the same time you did. Her smile softened, and for one second, she looked almost shy, which was absurd because Paige Bueckers did not do shy. Not on the court, not in front of cameras, not when half the world was watching. But here, outside your building, with your camera bag between your feet and her hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, she looked like someone who had said a little too much and did not know how to take it back without making it obvious.
So she nodded toward the door. “Go eat, media girl.”
You rolled your eyes, grateful for the escape. “Goodnight, basketball girl.”
Her smile widened. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You went inside before your face could do anything embarrassing. But upstairs, when you finally opened your laptop and started importing the photos, you found that your favorite shot from the day was not one of the posed portraits, or KK laughing, or Azzi looking effortlessly pretty under the studio lights. It was an accidental frame from when you had lowered your camera too soon, catching Paige at the edge of the shot, slightly out of focus, looking not at the lens but at you.
You stared at it for a long time.
Then your phone buzzed.
kk: sooooo
kk: battery man survived
kk: but barely
You should not have smiled.
You did anyway.
y/n: she was not jealous
kk: ur actually my charity case
kk: she carried ur bag AGAIN
kk: walked u home AGAIN
kk: and looked at that man like he insulted her ancestors
kk: but okay babe!
You leaned back against your pillows, laughing quietly to yourself. You wanted to deny it. You wanted to type back something sensible and firm, something that would put all of this back in the category of friendly teammate behavior even though Paige was not your teammate and you were running out of excuses that made sense.
Before you could answer, another text came through.
paige: previews?
paige: and don’t send the ugly ones first
paige: actually u probably think that’s funny
paige: so nvm
paige: send whatever ma
Your fingers froze over the keyboard.
You clicked on the accidental photo of Paige looking at you.
Then you sent it.
For a minute, there was no response. Then the typing bubble appeared, disappeared, appeared again.
paige: why u send this one?
You bit your lip, heart tapping too fast against your ribs.
y/n: you asked for previews
paige: i’m not even looking at the camera
y/n: still a good photo
paige: yeah?
y/n: yeah
Another pause.
paige: keep that one then
You stared at the message, warmth rising slowly through your chest.
y/n: for the post?
paige: nah
paige: for you
You stopped breathing for a second.
Across campus, somewhere you could not see, Paige Bueckers had probably thrown her phone down immediately after sending that, or smiled at the ceiling like she had said something normal, or convinced herself it was not obvious. You did not know. What you did know was that your face was hot, your laptop was still open, KK’s warnings were suddenly very loud in your head, and the photo on your screen looked a lot less accidental than it had before.
For you.
By the time the team hangout happened, you had convinced yourself that everything was normal again.
That was how you survived most things with Paige. You let the moment happen, you panicked about it privately, you stared at your ceiling or your laptop or a text message for way too long, and then by the next morning, you decided you had exaggerated the whole thing. Paige telling you to keep a photo “for you” was probably just Paige being Paige. Paige calling you “ma” over text was probably nothing, just a casual word tossed into a sentence with no deeper meaning because athletes spoke like that all the time. Paige looking at Tyler like he had personally offended her bloodline was probably because Tyler was standing too close to your camera setup, not because he was standing too close to you. Paige carrying your bag, walking you home, checking if you had eaten, fixing your camera strap, saving you a seat, remembering your schedule, stealing your drinks, leaning over your shoulder, staying after everyone else left—normal. All normal. Friendly. Harmless. Easy.
The only issue was that the entire UConn women’s basketball team seemed committed to making sure you could not keep lying to yourself in peace.
It started with the invitation, which was not really an invitation because KK had sent it like a demand.
kk: team hangout tonight
kk: u coming
kk: don’t say u have editing
kk: paige can survive one night without previews
kk: actually no she can’t but that’s not my problem
You had stared at the messages from your desk, where you were, unfortunately, editing. Your laptop was open, your SD card was plugged in, and Paige’s face was frozen on your screen mid-laugh from the content shoot, slightly blurred at the edges because she had moved right as you took the photo. You had been sorting through selects for athletics, but somehow every time Paige appeared in a frame, your workflow slowed. It was not your fault. She photographed annoyingly well. Some people had faces the camera liked; Paige had the kind of face the camera understood before you did. Even in accidental shots, she looked alive, like the frame had caught only half of whatever she was thinking.
You typed back to KK with one hand while the other hovered over your trackpad.
y/n: i literally have editing
kk: okay? bring ur laptop
y/n: to a hangout?
kk: yes??? be useful and social
kk: multitask babe
y/n: who’s there?
kk: team
kk: and u
kk: because ur basically team-adjacent
kk: like emotional support media
You laughed despite yourself, then immediately regretted it when another text came through.
kk: paige is coming too btw
kk: since ik u were wondering
y/n: i was not
kk: u typed that too fast
kk: guilty
You should have said no. You had every reason to. You had edits due, you were tired, and the responsible part of your brain knew that walking willingly into a room full of people who had made your crush their group project was a terrible idea. But then Paige texted you, separately, as if the universe was no longer even pretending to be subtle.
paige: kk bothering u?
y/n: always
paige: she told u to come?
y/n: yes
paige: u should
You stared at the words.
y/n: why?
paige: bc u work too much
paige: and kk gets louder when she don’t get what she wants
paige: mostly the first thing tho
Mostly the first thing. That was the problem. Paige could make anything sound casual and still somehow place her concern right in the middle of it. You sat there for a minute, your fingers resting against the keys, trying to think of a response that did not expose how easily she could move you. Then you typed:
y/n: are you calling me boring?
paige: i would never
paige: to ur face
y/n: wow
paige: come hang out boring girl
You went.
Obviously you went.
The team hangout was in one of those common lounge spaces that somehow looked the same in every athletic building and dorm-adjacent area on campus: couches arranged in a loose square, low tables scattered with snacks, a TV mounted on the wall, leftover blankets tossed over chair backs, someone’s slides abandoned near the corner, the whole room lit by lamps instead of the overheads because nobody wanted to feel like they were being interrogated. It was already loud when you walked in, which was comforting. Loud meant less attention on you. Loud meant KK yelling at someone, Nika arguing, Ice laughing, Ashlynn talking over Qadence, and no one having the space to notice if you looked at Paige for half a second too long.
Except that was a lie, because KK noticed everything.
She saw you the second you stepped in, her whole face lighting up like she had successfully summoned you. “Y/N!”
You barely had time to adjust the tote bag on your shoulder before she was waving you over from the floor, where she had claimed a spot between Ice and Ashlynn with a bowl of popcorn balanced dangerously close to her knee. “Come sit. We saved you a spot.”
That sentence should not have made you nervous. A spot was just a spot. People saved seats all the time. But then you looked toward the couches and saw exactly where the spot was.
Beside Paige.
Of course.
Paige was sprawled across one end of the couch in a hoodie and sweats, one leg bent under her, her phone loose in her hand. She looked up when you came in, and the shift in her expression was small but immediate, like her attention had been waiting near the door before the rest of her caught up. The corner of her mouth lifted.
“Media girl made it,” she said.
You tried not to smile too obviously. “Basketball girl is still annoying.”
“Damn, first thing you say to me?”
“You started.”
“I greeted you.”
“You labeled me.”
“It’s a nice label.”
KK made a sound from the floor. “Oh my god, can y’all sit down before I throw up?”
“KK,” Azzi said from the other couch, not looking up from her phone but sounding like she had been listening the whole time.
“What? I’m sensitive to nonsense.”
Paige shot KK a look. “You’re sensitive to being quiet.”
“That too.”
You sat down beside Paige because refusing would have been more suspicious than accepting, but the second you did, your awareness of the room narrowed to the warm line of her next to you. Not touching, not really. Just close enough that your sleeve brushed hers when you shifted your tote bag onto the floor. Close enough that she noticed you were carrying your laptop and reached down without asking, taking it from the tote before you could stop her.
“Did you bring work?” she asked, half amused, half offended.
“You told me to come. You did not tell me to stop having responsibilities.”
“I said hang out.”
“I am hanging out with Adobe.”
“That’s sad.”
“It pays me.”
“Barely.”
“Why are you in my financial business?”
Paige grinned, setting your laptop carefully on the side table instead of letting it stay on the floor. “Because you make it easy.”
You looked at where she had placed it, then back at her. “You’re weirdly careful with my stuff.”
“Your stuff expensive.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it is.”
“Is this still about Tyler threatening my camera equipment?”
Paige’s face flattened so quickly that you almost laughed. Almost. It was not enough for the room to catch unless the room was full of nosy basketball players who had apparently been born to study Paige Bueckers’s microexpressions. Unfortunately, it was. KK’s head snapped up. Ice’s eyes widened. Azzi finally looked away from her phone. Even Nika, sitting sideways in an armchair with one leg thrown over the side, glanced over like she had heard a whistle only dogs and teammates could detect.
“He’s an athletics intern,” you explained, even though you could feel this becoming worse by the second. “He brought batteries to the shoot.”
“And stood too close,” KK added.
“I’m gonna take your popcorn,” Paige warned.
KK hugged the bowl to her chest. “You can try.”
Nika leaned forward, suddenly entertained. “Wait, why do you care if he stood too close?”
Paige’s shoulders shifted, and you could feel her trying to settle into indifference like it was a hoodie. “I don’t.”
“You answered fast,” Azzi said quietly.
Paige looked betrayed. “Not you too.”
Azzi shrugged, very calm, very lethal. “I’m just saying.”
You wanted the couch to swallow you whole, but you were also trying not to smile because Paige looked caught in the most delicate way, annoyed but not truly upset, defensive but not mean. It made her look younger for a second, less like the Paige everyone watched and more like someone whose feelings had wandered into the room before she had given them permission.
“He was just complimenting my photos,” you said, mostly to rescue her.
Paige made the same tiny sound she had made at the shoot.
You turned your head slowly. “Again with the noise.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You did it again.”
“She does that when she’s bothered,” Ice said, then immediately covered her mouth like she had not meant to contribute to the group attack.
Paige stared at her. “Ice.”
Ice’s eyes went wide. “I love you.”
“That’s not saving you.”
KK was practically vibrating. “No, because this is perfect. This is actually perfect.”
“For what?” you asked, though your stomach already knew it did not want the answer.
KK set the popcorn aside with ceremony. “Truth or dare.”
The room erupted at once. Ashlynn said yes immediately. Qadence started laughing before anything had even happened. Nika groaned like she was above it but shifted in her chair like she was absolutely staying. Ice looked nervous and excited. Azzi gave KK one long look, the kind that said she knew exactly what KK was doing and was deciding whether to intervene. Paige leaned back against the couch and crossed her arms.
“No,” Paige said.
KK smiled. “Scared?”
“No.”
“That sounded scared.”
“I’m not playing your little setup game.”
“My little what?” KK’s innocence was so fake it deserved an award.
“You heard me.”
You looked between them, your face heating. “Setup game?”
Paige glanced at you, and something in her expression softened, like she regretted letting the words slip. “Nothing.”
KK clapped once. “Exactly. Nothing. Just team bonding.”
“I’m not on the team,” you said.
“You are spiritually on the team,” KK said. “You been through enough with us. You seen Nika yell at a vending machine. That bonds people.”
Nika pointed at her. “It stole my money.”
“It was out of granola bars.”
“It still took my money.”
“That’s between you and the machine,” KK said, then turned back to the group. “Okay. Rules. Truth or dare. No boring questions. No making people do anything illegal. No calling coaches. No recording unless the person says yes. And no lying because I can tell.”
Paige scoffed. “You cannot tell.”
“I can tell with you.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Paige, you lie with your whole forehead.”
You laughed before you could stop yourself, and Paige turned to you with exaggerated offense. “You laughing?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m a little sorry.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Because your forehead does look guilty sometimes.”
“My forehead?”
KK slapped the floor. “See? She knows.”
Paige shook her head, but there was a smile tugging at her mouth. “Y’all are weird.”
The game started harmless enough, which was probably how KK planned it. She let Ashlynn dare Qadence to do an impression of Nika yelling at practice, which made Nika protest loudly enough to prove the impression correct. Ice chose truth and admitted she had once pretended not to see a text for three hours because she did not know how to respond. Azzi picked dare and had to read the last non-team-related text in her phone, which turned out to be painfully normal and therefore disappointing to everyone but her. Paige kept refusing to look amused, but she was laughing anyway, tucked into the couch beside you with one arm along the back cushion, not touching you but close enough that you kept noticing the space.
Then it was your turn.
KK looked at you like she had been waiting.
“Y/N,” she said, too sweetly. “Truth or dare?”
You did not trust her at all. “Truth.”
KK’s smile widened. “Interesting.”
“Why is that interesting?”
“No reason.”
“KK.”
“No reason,” she repeated, then tilted her head like she was thinking. The room quieted in that horrible way rooms did when everyone knew something was coming. Paige shifted beside you, and you could feel her attention sharpen. You kept your eyes on KK because looking at Paige felt dangerous. “Okay. Have you ever had a crush on someone you worked with?”
The room exploded.
“No,” you said immediately, then realized you had answered too fast and added, “I mean—what kind of question is that?”
“A truth question,” KK said, delighted.
“That’s so broad.”
“It is actually very specific.”
“I work with a lot of people.”
“Okay, then answer for the people you work with.”
“That does not make it better.”
Nika leaned forward. “Answer.”
You looked at her. “Why are you involved?”
“I like information.”
Paige had gone quiet. That was the problem. She was usually the first person to make fun of you, to throw in some comment, to make the moment lighter before it could pin anyone down. But now she was sitting beside you with her jaw relaxed in a way that seemed too intentional, like she was trying very hard not to look like she cared about the answer. Her eyes were on KK, not you, but her knee had gone still beside yours.
You swallowed, feeling heat crawl up your neck. “I mean… maybe.”
KK’s eyebrows shot up. “Maybe?”
“People have work crushes. That’s normal.”
“Is it current?”
“KK.”
“Just asking.”
“That’s another question.”
“So it is current?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t say no.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands while everyone laughed. Paige did not laugh as loudly as the others. You heard it, or rather, you heard the absence of it. When you lowered your hands, she was looking at you already. Just for a second. Then away.
“Okay,” you said, trying to sound composed and failing. “My turn. KK. Truth or dare?”
KK looked thrilled by the danger. “Truth.”
“Have you ever made something your business when it absolutely was not your business?”
The team screamed.
KK placed a hand over her heart. “Yes. Constantly. God gave me a gift and I use it.”
“At least you’re self-aware,” Azzi said.
“I’m a helper.”
“You’re a menace,” Paige muttered.
KK pointed at her. “A helpful menace.”
The game kept moving, but after your question, the energy had changed. Not dramatically. Nobody was confessing. Nobody was cornered. But the room had tilted slightly toward something more charged, something hidden under laughter. The questions got bolder in the way they always did when people were comfortable enough to pretend they were joking. Ashlynn asked Nika if she had ever left someone on read because she was annoyed. Nika said yes without shame. Qadence dared Ice to give the most dramatic fake apology to the team for stealing someone’s snacks, and Ice got so into it that everyone was crying laughing by the end. Paige chose truth once and got asked what her biggest red flag was.
“Nothing,” Paige said immediately.
The whole room booed.
“That’s a red flag,” Azzi said.
“No, it’s confidence.”
“That’s two red flags,” you said.
Paige looked at you, offended and amused. “You too?”
“I’m being honest.”
“You supposed to be on my side.”
“Am I?”
She paused, and the room seemed to inhale quietly.
Then Paige smirked. “Yeah.”
It was one word. It still managed to make your stomach flip.
KK saw it. Because of course she did.
“Okay,” KK said, dragging the word out as she reached for the popcorn again. “Paige. Since you’re so confident. Truth or dare?”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Truth.”
“Boring.”
“Truth,” Paige repeated.
KK leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her expression shifting into something more dangerous than playful. Not mean. Never mean. But targeted, like she had finally decided to aim. “Have you ever gotten jealous over someone you’re not even dating?”
For a second, nobody spoke.
The question was not loud, not vulgar, not even that wild compared to what truth or dare could become. But it landed hard because everybody knew where it was supposed to land. You felt it before you understood it fully, the way Paige’s posture changed beside you, the way Azzi looked down at her lap to hide a smile, the way Ice went completely still, the way Nika’s eyebrows lifted. Your heart started beating in your throat.
Paige leaned back deeper into the couch, but it did not make her look relaxed. “That’s your question?”
KK smiled. “That’s my question.”
Paige looked at her for a long moment. “Everybody gets jealous.”
That was not a no.
You looked at her before you could stop yourself. Paige did not look back at you.
KK’s smile grew. “That wasn’t the question.”
“It answers it.”
“No, it avoids it.”
Paige shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”
“Fine,” KK said, but she did not sound defeated. She sounded like she had gotten exactly what she wanted. “So yes.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t say no.”
“You been using that all night.”
“Because it works.”
Paige’s jaw shifted, and for one tiny moment, her eyes flicked toward you. It was so quick that if you had blinked, you would have missed it. But you did not blink. You saw it. You felt it like a spark jumping between you.
Then Nika, with the bluntness of someone who had grown tired of everyone else’s pacing, said, “It is not illegal to answer yes.”
Paige threw a pillow at her.
The room burst into laughter again, the tension breaking just enough for everyone to breathe. You laughed too, because it was funny, because Nika caught the pillow with one hand and looked unimpressed, because KK was practically glowing with victory. But underneath it, your thoughts were moving too fast.
Everybody gets jealous.
That was what Paige had said. Not I don’t. Not nah. Not a joke about battery men. Everybody gets jealous. It was the kind of answer that could mean nothing if you wanted it to. It was also the kind of answer that could mean everything if you were brave enough to let it.
You were not brave enough.
So when Paige’s turn came, and she looked around the room before her eyes settled on you, you prayed she would not pick you.
She picked you.
“Y/N,” she said, voice casual in a way that immediately made you suspicious. “Truth or dare?”
You held her gaze. “Truth.”
KK groaned. “Y’all are so safe.”
Paige ignored her. She tilted her head slightly, and for once there was no big smirk, no obvious tease. Just curiosity, sharpened by something she probably did not want to admit. “What’s your type?”
You hated the way the room reacted. It was not even loud this time. It was worse. Everyone got quiet in that fake way people did when they wanted to hear every syllable. Your face warmed instantly, and you shifted on the couch, suddenly too aware of Paige’s arm along the cushion behind you.
“My type?” you repeated, buying time.
“That’s what I asked.”
“Why?”
“It’s truth or dare.”
“Still.”
Paige’s eyes stayed steady on yours. “You scared?”
The challenge worked because you were unfortunately predictable. You sat a little straighter and tried to look like your pulse was not sprinting. “I’m not scared.”
“Then answer.”
You could have made it vague. You should have made it vague. You could have said funny, kind, smart, someone who cared about people. You could have said something so safe that the room lost interest. But Paige was looking at you like that, and KK had asked about work crushes, and Paige had just admitted without admitting that she got jealous, and some reckless little part of you wanted to push back. Not confess. Not yet. But push. Just enough.
“I don’t know,” you said slowly. “Someone confident, probably. But not in an annoying way.”
Paige’s mouth twitched.
KK made a tiny squeaking sound.
“Someone who’s funny,” you continued, looking down at your hands because eye contact suddenly felt impossible. “Like actually funny, not just someone who thinks they’re funny.”
“Damn,” Paige murmured.
You smiled despite yourself. “Someone who pays attention. Like, remembers little things without making it a big deal. Someone who acts like they don’t care but clearly cares a lot.”
The room went silent enough for you to hear someone shift on the floor.
Paige was not smiling now.
You looked up before you could stop yourself, and there she was, looking at you with an expression you could not read quickly enough to protect yourself from it. It was softer than you expected. Almost stunned. Like she had been ready to joke and then realized halfway through your answer that she did not know how.
“That’s specific,” Azzi said quietly, mercy and mischief balanced perfectly in her voice.
You cleared your throat. “It’s a type.”
“Mm-hmm,” KK said. “A very random, general type.”
“Exactly.”
“Could apply to anybody.”
“Anybody,” you agreed, too quickly.
Paige looked away then, but not before you saw the smile she tried to fight. It was small. Private. Ridiculous. It made you want to hide your face in your hands.
The game should have ended there. It would have been kinder if it had. But KK was apparently not in a merciful mood, and the rest of the team had entered that phase of the night where everyone was too invested to stop. The questions kept circling closer without ever landing directly. Ice got asked if she believed friends could become something more, and she answered yes while looking at the ceiling like she wanted no responsibility for how loud that answer felt. Qadence dared Ashlynn to give someone in the room a fake dramatic love confession, and Ashlynn chose Nika purely because Nika’s horrified expression was worth it. Azzi got asked who on the team had the worst poker face, and without hesitation, she said, “Paige when she is trying not to care.”
Paige looked personally betrayed. “What did I do to you?”
Azzi smiled. “Exist near us.”
“You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“I am. That is why I am honest.”
KK was laughing so hard she had to put the popcorn down again. You were laughing too, shoulders shaking, but Paige only rolled her eyes and shifted beside you, her knee brushing yours for half a second. The contact was so brief it could have been accidental. You still felt it.
Then came the dare that changed the room in a way no one expected.
It was Nika’s turn, and she picked dare because, in her words, she was not afraid of children’s games. KK, insulted, dared her to pick the person in the room she would trust most to set her up on a date. Nika stared at KK like the dare was beneath her, then looked around the circle with theatrical seriousness. Her eyes passed over Azzi, Ice, Ashlynn, Qadence, Paige, then landed on you.
“Y/N,” she said.
Your eyebrows shot up. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you observe. You pay attention. You would not set me up with an idiot.”
“That’s true.”
“And you have taste.”
You laughed, flattered and surprised. “Thank you?”
Nika shrugged. “You would be useful.”
“Wow. Romantic.”
“It is a compliment.”
KK leaned forward, eyes bright. “Okay, wait, actually. If Y/N had to set Paige up with somebody, who would it be?”
Paige immediately sat up. “That was not the dare.”
“No, this is a follow-up conversation.”
“I don’t need to be set up.”
“You sure?” KK asked. “Because you are not exactly taking initiative.”
Paige’s eyes narrowed. “With what?”
KK’s smile was all trouble. “Life.”
You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, but Paige caught it anyway.
“You laughing again?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You think I need to be set up?”
The question was directed at you now, and it should have been easy to answer. You could tease her. You could say yes, absolutely, because your ego needed balance. You could say no, because who would even be good enough? You could say anything except what your brain actually did, which was imagine Paige on a date with someone else and immediately hate the entire concept.
That was new.
Or maybe it was not new. Maybe it had been there the whole time and you were only noticing because the team had shined a flashlight directly on it. The thought of Paige sitting across from someone else, giving them that small private smile, carrying their bag, texting them late, calling them ma like it was nothing—it made something unpleasant twist in your stomach. Not anger. Not exactly. More like a sharp little no.
You looked down at the blanket folded beside your thigh. “I don’t know.”
KK tilted her head. “You don’t know?”
“No.”
Paige was watching you very carefully now.
You shrugged, trying to make your voice light. “I feel like Paige wouldn’t like being set up.”
That was safe. That was true. That was not the whole truth.
Paige leaned back, still watching you. “You right.”
“See?”
“Wouldn’t trust nobody’s taste.”
KK made a face. “Not even Y/N’s?”
Paige’s answer came slowly, and when it did, it was quieter than before. “Y/N’s maybe.”
Your breath caught.
The room reacted, but softly this time. A few murmurs, someone shifting, KK’s mouth opening and closing like even she needed a second. Paige seemed to realize what she had said after it landed, because she reached for a drink on the table and took a sip like she had not just made your entire chest feel too small.
“Maybe?” you said, because apparently you enjoyed danger.
Paige lowered the cup. “Don’t get cocky.”
“You just said you trust my taste.”
“I said maybe.”
“That’s basically a five-star review from you.”
“Don’t push it.”
“You’re so difficult.”
“You like it.”
The words came out easy. Too easy.
You both froze.
Not visibly enough for the whole room to call it out, but enough for you to feel the shift. Paige’s eyes stayed on yours, and for once, she did not smirk her way out of it immediately. You wondered if she heard herself. You wondered if she knew how it sounded. You wondered if everyone else could feel the air changing around you or if it only felt that way because you were sitting close enough to see the tiny flicker of uncertainty in her face.
KK saved you, if saving meant throwing gasoline on a candle.
“Okay!” she said loudly, clapping once. “My turn again.”
Paige looked away first, and you hated that you noticed.
KK spun the bottle cap someone had abandoned on the table, though nobody had agreed to use it as a spinner. It wobbled dramatically, making two full circles before pointing vaguely toward Paige and you at the same time. KK stared at it, then at both of you, then grinned like fate had just personally endorsed her behavior.
“Wow,” she said. “The universe is messy.”
“No,” Paige said immediately.
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
KK ignored her. “Paige. Dare.”
“I pick truth.”
“You picked truth last time.”
“That’s allowed.”
“Not emotionally.”
“KK.”
“Fine. Truth.” KK’s eyes sparkled. “If somebody in this room liked you, would you want them to tell you?”
There was a collective intake of breath.
You stopped moving.
Paige stared at KK like she was deciding whether team chemistry was worth preserving. “You ask the worst questions.”
“I ask useful questions.”
“That’s not useful.”
“It could be.”
“To who?”
KK shrugged, infuriatingly calm. “The person in the room who likes you.”
The words were technically general. They did not name you. They did not say anything outright. They floated into the room dressed as a hypothetical, harmless if everyone agreed to pretend. But you felt them land anyway. Your hands curled slightly into the sleeve of your sweatshirt. You could feel Paige beside you, still and quiet, the heat of her body suddenly impossible to ignore.
Paige’s voice, when she answered, was lower. “Depends who it is.”
KK’s expression shifted. Just a little. Less teasing now. More careful. “Okay. If it was someone you already cared about?”
Paige did not answer right away.
Your heart was so loud you were sure everyone could hear it. The room had lost its laughter, but not in a bad way. It felt like the moment before a song dropped, everyone waiting, nobody breathing too hard. Paige looked down at her hands, then back up at KK, but her eyes moved to you before she spoke.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’d wanna know.”
You forgot how to look normal.
KK’s grin softened into something genuinely happy before she covered it with dramatics again. “See? Growth.”
Paige rolled her eyes, but she did not take it back.
You sat there with the sentence ringing in your ears. I’d wanna know. You told yourself it did not mean what it felt like it meant. It was a truth or dare answer, pushed out of her by KK, spoken in front of everyone. It could mean anything. It could mean nothing. But Paige had looked at you. You knew she had. You could lie about a lot of things, but not that.
The game moved on because it had to. Nobody could live inside that silence forever. But after that, Paige stayed quieter, and so did you. The team filled the space around you, laughing again, pushing into safer dares, making Ice do a terrible TikTok dance, daring Qadence to speak in a British accent until her next turn, making Nika compliment everyone in the room with a straight face. It should have settled things. It should have made the night easy again.
Instead, everything felt more awake.
Every accidental brush of Paige’s sleeve against yours felt intentional even when it was not. Every time she laughed at something someone said, you caught yourself looking. Every time you looked, she seemed to already be aware of you. Not always staring. Not obviously. Just tuned in, like some part of her attention kept returning to you no matter what else was happening.
At some point, your phone buzzed in your lap.
kk: ur welcome
You did not look at her. You typed under the blanket with one hand.
y/n: i hate you
kk: no u don’t
kk: also she looked at u when she said she’d wanna know
y/n: stop
kk: i’m literally helping
y/n: ur literally stressing me out
kk: love is stressful babe
You locked your phone and refused to answer.
Paige noticed, because of course she did. “Who you texting?”
You glanced at her. “Why?”
“Just asking.”
“You ask that a lot.”
“You dodge a lot.”
“It was KK.”
Paige’s eyes moved to KK, who immediately pretended to be fascinated by the ceiling. “What she say?”
“Nothing.”
“That means something.”
“It means nothing.”
“She bothering you?”
The question was casual, but the tone under it was not. Paige had shifted closer without fully moving, her voice low enough that the rest of the room would not catch it unless they were trying. You looked at her, and the concern on her face was so immediate that it made you ache a little.
“No,” you said softly. “She’s not bothering me.”
Paige held your gaze for a second, then nodded. “Good.”
You could have left it there. You should have. Instead, maybe because the whole night had made you reckless, maybe because Paige had said she would want to know, maybe because KK’s stupid texts were still glowing in your mind, you asked, “Would you do something if she was?”
Paige did not blink. “Yeah.”
Your stomach dipped.
“What would you do?” you asked, trying to make it sound like a joke.
Paige looked at KK again, then back at you, mouth curving slightly. “Depends.”
“On?”
“How annoying she’s being.”
“She’s always annoying.”
“Then I’d always do something.”
It was ridiculous. It was soft. It sounded too close to a promise.
You looked away before your face could give you up.
The hangout started winding down close to midnight, though nobody officially called it. People just began stretching out on couches, checking phones, gathering empty bowls, arguing over who had stolen whose blanket. Nika declared she was leaving before the energy got stupid, which was funny because the energy had been stupid for at least two hours. Azzi got up with a quiet goodnight, giving Paige a look as she passed that you could not interpret but Paige clearly could, because she muttered, “Stop,” under her breath.
“What?” Azzi asked, innocent.
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You and KK do that.”
“Maybe you are just easy to read.”
“I’m not.”
Azzi smiled. “Okay.”
That one word sounded so much like a lie that even you laughed. Paige turned to you, betrayed again, but she was smiling too.
When you stood to grab your tote, Paige stood at the same time.
“Of course,” KK muttered from the floor.
Paige looked down at her. “You got something to say?”
KK smiled up at her. “Nope.”
“That’s new.”
“I’m growing.”
“You just said that about me.”
“Both of us can grow. It’s a team sport.”
You slipped your laptop into your tote, trying to hide your smile. “I can walk myself back.”
Paige reached for the tote anyway. “Nobody said you couldn’t.”
“You’re not carrying my stuff every time.”
“I already am.”
“You are so stubborn.”
“You knew that.”
“Unfortunately.”
Paige gave you a quick grin, but there was something underneath it now, something quieter left over from the game. She did not look away from you as quickly as she usually did. You felt it. KK felt it too, apparently, because she made a tiny noise and then buried her face in Ice’s shoulder.
“Do y’all need privacy or should we all walk together?” KK asked, voice muffled.
Paige did not even turn around. “You can stay here.”
“I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
The room laughed, and Paige looked pleased with herself as she lifted your tote onto her shoulder. You tried to tell yourself this was normal. You failed faster than usual.
The walk back was colder than you expected. The air hit your face the second you stepped outside, sharp enough to make you tuck your hands into your sleeves. Paige noticed instantly and slowed down beside you.
“You cold?”
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
“Because sometimes I am.”
“Not right now.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You got your hands in your sleeves.”
“That’s just fashion.”
“That’s a cry for help.”
You laughed, and Paige smiled, but instead of making another joke, she shifted your tote higher on her shoulder and moved a little closer, just enough that her arm brushed yours as you walked. She did not offer her hoodie this time. Maybe because you were already wearing one. Maybe because giving you another would be too obvious after tonight. Maybe because both of you were more aware than you had been before, and awareness made even the sweetest habits feel dangerous.
For a while, neither of you mentioned truth or dare.
You talked about safer things. The shoot schedule for the next week. KK’s inability to be normal. Nika’s vending machine vendetta. Whether the photo of Paige not looking at the camera was actually good or if you had only said that to annoy her. Paige insisted it was good because you said it was. You told her that was a lot of trust in your artistic judgment. She said, “Told you I trust your taste, maybe,” and you nearly walked into a lamp post.
She laughed about that for a full minute.
“You’re so annoying,” you said, trying to recover.
“You good?” she asked, still laughing.
“I’m fine.”
“You almost lost to campus infrastructure.”
“Because you distracted me.”
Paige’s laughter softened. “I distract you?”
The question was quiet enough that it almost blended into the night. You looked at her, and immediately wished you had not, because she was already looking back. The streetlight caught the edge of her face, the curve of her cheek, the faint amusement still sitting in her eyes. But beneath it, there was something else. Something waiting.
You could have lied.
You almost did.
“Sometimes,” you said.
Paige’s smile faded into something smaller.
Neither of you stopped walking, but the pace changed, slower now, like both of you were stretching the path without saying it. Your building was not far. It never was. Paige always walked you anyway, always made the wrong direction look like it belonged to her.
“Me too,” she said after a moment.
You looked down at the sidewalk. “What?”
“You distract me too.”
Your chest tightened so quickly it almost hurt.
Paige cleared her throat, the way people did when they had said something too honest and needed to roughen the edges. “Like when you’re taking forever with the camera and bossing everybody around.”
You huffed out a laugh, grateful and disappointed at the same time. “I do not boss everybody around.”
“You boss me around.”
“You need it.”
“Maybe.”
The word hung there, soft and easy, but not empty.
When you reached your building, Paige stopped where she always stopped. She handed your tote back carefully, her fingers brushing yours around the strap. You both noticed. Neither of you said anything. The entrance light buzzed above you, unromantic and too bright, but somehow it still felt like every other goodbye with Paige had been leading to this exact version of silence.
“Tonight was fun,” you said, because someone had to say something normal.
Paige nodded. “Yeah.”
“KK is terrifying.”
“She’s doing too much.”
“She means well.”
“She needs a hobby.”
“I think this is her hobby.”
Paige laughed softly, then looked at you with a kind of fondness that made your stomach fold in on itself. “Yeah. Probably.”
You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder. “You okay?”
Paige blinked. “Why?”
“You got quiet after the game.”
“I’m good.”
“Paige.”
Her mouth twitched at your tone. “What?”
“You always act like you’re hard to read.”
“I am.”
“You are not.”
She looked at you for a long second, and you watched the joke flicker across her face before she chose not to use it. That choice made your heart beat harder than the joke would have.
“I was thinking,” she said.
“About?”
Her eyes moved over your face, not in a way that felt too much, but in a way that felt careful. Like she was choosing what she could give you without giving away everything. “Stuff.”
“That is so specific.”
“I’m a private person.”
“You are literally famous.”
“Still private.”
You smiled. “Okay.”
Paige looked like she wanted to say more. You could see it in the way she shifted, in the way her hands tucked into her hoodie pocket, in the way her eyes dropped briefly to the ground and then came back to you. For a second, you wondered if she would mention KK’s question. If somebody in this room liked you, would you want them to tell you? You wondered if she would ask about your type again. You wondered if she would say Tyler’s name with that same irritated edge just to make you laugh. You wondered if she would do any of the brave things neither of you seemed ready to do.
Instead, she said, “Text me when you’re inside.”
You stared at her. “I’m literally at the door.”
“And?”
“You’re going to see me walk in.”
“And then text me.”
“You are impossible.”
“Been told.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as you opened the door. “Goodnight, Paige.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
You stepped inside, and because you were weak, you looked back through the glass.
Paige was still there.
She lifted her eyebrows like she had caught you, and you immediately looked away, pushing through the second door with your face burning. By the time you got upstairs, your phone was already in your hand.
y/n: inside
paige: proud of u
y/n: for entering a building?
paige: big accomplishment
y/n: ur so unserious
paige: sometimes
You sat on the edge of your bed, still in your hoodie, staring at that word.
Sometimes.
Then another message appeared.
paige: did u mean it?
y/n: mean what?
The typing bubble came and went twice.
paige: ur type
Your breath caught.
You could hear KK’s voice in your head. You could hear Paige’s answer too. Yeah. I’d wanna know.
Your thumbs hovered over the screen for a long time.
y/n: yeah
y/n: i meant it
You sent it before you could lose your nerve, then dropped your phone onto the bed like it had burned you. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then it buzzed.
paige: good type
You pressed a hand over your mouth.
Another text came through before you could answer.
paige: whoever that is better not fumble
Your heart twisted.
Because you knew Paige. You knew her confidence, her jokes, the way she could step close to something real and then dodge it with a smirk before anyone could catch her. You could picture her sending that with her hood up, walking back across campus, trying to make it sound like a joke. You could picture her convincing herself she had not asked too much.
You typed carefully.
y/n: yeah
y/n: she better not
The word sat there.
She.
You had not meant to send that. Or maybe you had. Maybe some part of you had been tired of hiding behind neutral words, behind someone and anybody and work crushes and maybe. Maybe some part of you wanted Paige to know that the possibility was not impossible. Not a confession. Not even close. Just a door left unlocked.
Paige did not respond for almost two minutes.
You stared at the screen the whole time, pulse loud, regretting everything and nothing at once.
Then:
paige: she?
Your face went hot.
You could have taken it back. You could have said typo, or you could have made a joke about grammar, or you could have pretended not to understand what she was asking. But the night had changed something. Truth or dare had not forced a confession, but it had pressed on the bruise of the secret until you both could feel it.
So you typed:
y/n: yeah
y/n: she
This time, Paige answered faster.
paige: okay
Just okay.
You stared at it, your stomach sinking before another message followed.
paige: good to know
You fell back onto your bed and stared at the ceiling, smiling so hard it felt embarrassing. Good to know. That was not a confession either. It was nothing you could hold up as proof. It was not a date, not a kiss, not even a real admission. But it was something. It was Paige seeing the door you had left unlocked and not closing it.
Across campus, KK texted you again.
kk: did u survive
kk: be honest
kk: actually don’t be honest if it’s boring
You looked at the messages, then at Paige’s thread, then back at KK’s. You thought about the way Paige had gone quiet when you described your type. You thought about the way she had said she would want to know. You thought about the way her voice had changed when she asked if KK was bothering you. You thought about how her eyes had looked under the streetlight when she said you distracted her too.
Then you typed:
y/n: i think you’re making it worse
KK responded instantly.
kk: worse????
kk: babe
kk: i’m making it possible
You hated that she was right.
You hated that you were smiling.
And somewhere between Paige’s good to know and KK’s impossible confidence, you realized the truth or dare game had not revealed the secret.
Can i request a paige x oc where oc is dating paige ofc and she’s a dolll just spoiled asf! i just love a bratty oc x paige trope
&&&. uconn!paige x dollygf!oc
⌗ NORMAL GIRL ˳ᐟ ─── ⸝⸝ ❝ you love the way i pop my top, or how i lose my cool, or how i look at you. / you like it when i be aggressive! ❞
summary. rubi gets pissed when girls throw themselves at paige—again. luckily for paige, she's more than accustomed to dealing with her girl's tantrums. includes. 1.9k words.
a/n. hey loves !! this was a ROUGH&TOUGH write bc tumblr deleted ts like 20 billion times andddd it's also not proofread cause i was deadass abt to just trash it😗BUT i finished it so thats what matters andd hopefully it's good💗💗love ya'llll
𝓟aige had just had a great game. Which wasn't very rare, seeing as she always played better than most. But, this game specifically? It really took the fucking cake.
I mean, who plays so amazingly that every girl in the building decides to throw themselves at her—completely disregarding the fact that the blonde was in a relationship?!
That took some real...skill.
A skill that seemed to only be possessed by Rubi's girlfriend.
And it might've been ridiculous to be jealous. She knew it was. She was always the one Paige would go home with—the only one Paige made feel good. But that didn't stop her from letting emotions get the best of her.
The girl got off on being the center of Paige's attention, so having to take the backseat to some ditzy, soon-to-be dropout, clout-chasers who were trying to screw her girlfriend was a serious no-no.
Which is why when the rest of the needy crowd cleared out and Paige's tired expression lit up the second her gaze landed on Rubi, she wasn't satisfied in the slightest.
Rubi knew she looked good. She always did. Especially when she was showing out for her girl.
She was pretty, per usual, and all dolled up—perfectly trimmed layers framing your face just right, soft makeup enhancing her babydoll-like features, fresh set of lash extensions widening her doe eyes, favorite gloss glazing her swollen lips, and baby pink blush highlighting the bulbous tip of her button nose and the height of her cherub cheeks.
The "P" necklace Paige had gifted her on their one-year anniversary glinted under the arena lights as she waltzed over to the blonde in her teal Skims dress, her feet adorned with white and gold Miu Miu mules.
And her body looked phenomenal—not that it was a surprise. Her plump tits were on display as they bounced around against the flowers she'd brought for Paige, the fat of her plush asscheeks jiggling along with her thick hips and thighs under the flimsy fabric, and her tan, buttery skin shimmering beneath the lights.
Paige scratched the tip of her nose, whistling lowly as the brunette came to a stop in front of her. Too bad Rubi's doll-like cadence was quickly soured when Paige met her eyes and saw the displeased frown painting her face.
Exhaling deeply like a disappointed mother, the girl rose her perfectly arched eyebrows expectantly—waiting, hoping for Paige to say something stupid.
The blonde smirked awkwardly, taking a step closer as she spoke, "D'you enjoy the gam-" Rubi interrupted by shoving the flowers into Paige's chest, forcing a small oof! from her lips.
Without giving her a chance to respond, Rubi let out an unimpressed scoff, turning quickly over her shoulder and stomping away—Paige followed without hesitation.
"Wh- bae!"
꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱
𝓝ow in the parking garage, her kitten heels clicked rhythmically against the concrete flooring, fat tears glazing over her doe eyes with each step.
Great—now she was crying like a big baby.
Despite their extreme height difference, Rubi being the shorter of the pair, Paige was barely keeping up with the small woman's angry strides. "Rubi, what is up witchu'?" Paige asked incredulously, jogging up to her side.
The brunette huffed annoyedly, refusing to meet her eyes. "What, I-I can't have a bad day, now?" She snapped, brows furrowed and bottom lip swollen from her incessant chewing.
"You can..." She spoke slowly, coming to a stop as she watched Rubi carry on with an unimpressed gaze. Paige knew her better than anyone in the world. So, the big swing between her mood that morning compared to now was easy to see.
Paige kissed her teeth, tilting her head back. "Stop, bae. C'mere," she instructed softly, but yet, still full of authority.
Rubi resisted the urge to throw herself into the blonde's big arms, adjusting the strap of her cream mini Prada bag that sat on her shoulder as she turned to look at her. She shook her head, testing the waters.
Paige shifted her weight onto her hip impatiently, raising her eyebrows beneath that dumb, but sexy, but really dumb UConn cap resting backwards on her head. She snapped her fingers once and pointed directly in front of herself.
"Get...yo' lil' ass over here. Now."
Rubi rolled her eyes, falsies fluttering, but immediately obeyed without a second thought—fingers twisting in front of her belly as she shuffled over to her.
She didn't approach fast enough to Paige's liking, so the blonde tugged her wrist gently once she was within reaching distance, Rubi stumbling a little due to her heels.
The small act of dominance made her physically shrink, already feeling a little hazy.
In an attempt to prevent herself from giving in, Rubi tightly crossed her arms over her chest, subconsciously pushing her tits further as she pouted and flipped her long, glossy hair over her shoulder.
"A'ight...can you take these for a sec?" Paige held out the bouquet of flowers in front of Rubi, the girl dropping her jaw dramatically in response. Paige sighed tiredly, knowing what was coming.
Even though Paige had meant it in the sense that she could comfort Rubi easier if both hands were free, her girlfriend wasn't necessarily in the state to think so deeply into it.
"So- so now, you don't want the flowers?" Rubi whined, "Really?" Her now sparkly eyes stared up at her, nose and cheeks flushed as she sniffled pathetically. "You wanna go back to those girls in there-"
"Cut it-" Paige exhaled roughly, trying her best to stay calm. "Just stop, a'ight? Can you tell me what you need right now?" She hunched her back, large frame barely accommodating to Rubi's height as she tried to be more level with her. Instantly, the brunette's chest filled with guilt, foul mood melting away just a little more. "Can't read your mind, baby."
Rubi shook her head with a quiet, choked sob, annoyed with that addition—because she wanted her to know. She was honestly fairly pretty that Paige did know and was just teaching her a lesson. But regardless, she didn't wanna tell her.
So, Rubi decided on the first thought in her head and went to push Paige's arm lightly, the blonde easily catching her hand with a click of her teeth.
"Don't do that right now, Rue. Don't." Paige shifted to place her large hands on either side of Rubi's face, blue eyes soft and understanding as her thumbs caressed the girl's cheekbones. "I'on wanna have to deal witchu' the way you don't like, 'cause your head ain't there."
Rubi's stomach sunk to her ankles at Paige's soft tone, her glossy lips suddenly growing dry. A pang of guilt burned through her chest and fresh tears began to form.
Paige licked her lips, trying once more. "I'mma ask you again... what you need—"
"You!" Rubi answered, cutting him off. Which would've irritated Paige, had she not been able to tell that she didn't really mean to snap by the way her nose scrunched up afterward. "Need you..."
"Baby, I'm right here..." Paige dipped her head, prompting Rubi to say more, but she crumpled, shaking her head as she began to sob. "Ooo-kay. A'ight." She sighed, picking her up like it was nothing and walking them over to her car—which thankfully, wasn't much further.
꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱
𝓘nevitably, she wound up on Paige's lap in the back seat of her car, dress rolled up to her waist—fabric being held up by Rubi's tits. Paige had one hand cupping the girl's ass, the other knuckles deep into her drooling pussy.
Swallowing thickly, Rubi let out a shaky breath from her swollen lips, cheeks burning with embarrassment as she wrapped her arms around Paige's broad shoulders, whimpering into her collarbone.
Paige removed her hand from Rubi's ass, moving to the back of her head and pushing her forehead flush against her own. The blonde couldn't help but smile at the way Rubi's doe eyes stared dreamily at the way her three longest fingers thrusted slowly—in and out.
The Bueckers woman tilted her head, silencing her with a nasty, slobbery kiss. Rubi let out a throaty moan, swallowing as their tongues slid flat against each other.
"Hmph- papi, I-" Rubi was quickly cut off by her own elongated groan as Paige slid her tongue up from between her cleavage to her kiss bitten lips, before swallowing her mouth into a deeper kiss.
"Oh, I know, baby, let it out," Paige cooed, slightly condescending—though, Rubi couldn't find it in herself to care, crying into the woman's neck as her wet pussy squished and squelched around her long fingers.
Drool dripped down the both of their necks, and Rubi tightened her arms around Paige's shoulders, both of their tongues lazily lapping at each other.
Paige pulled back, watching closely with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as Rubi threw her head back in complete and total ecstasy. "Nothing else to say, mama? So quiet now. What happened? Huh?" She was cooing, a huge shit-eating grin on her face as she locked a big strong hand around her waist, forcing her to take her fingers deeper—if that were even possible. "What happened, baby?"
She slid in her pinky, four fingers spreading Rubi wide open as she wrapped her other hand around the brunette's neck. Rubi gasped, lashes fluttering and brows furrowing tightly. "Where's allat' attitude gone? Is this what you needed?" Paige used the hand on her neck to make the girl nod. "You feel better now, baby?"
"Ffff—mmm..."
Rubi tried, she really did. But Paige purposefully began massaging her thumb over the woman's puffy, sticky clit.
"Oh...see, you got an off button. That's what this is." Paige hummed out a chuckle, "The button's just alllll the way in those guts." Rubi finally met the blonde's eyes, her own big brown ones appalled she mustered up the last of her strength to deliver a smack to Paige's arm. Paige smirked, nudging her jaw. "Ain't that right, baby?"
Rubi completely (and involuntarily) dropped the act when Paige's fingers hit that spot, eyes crossing and brows furrowing deeply as she softly uttered, "oh, God..." The blonde's eyebrows rose when she realized she'd found the spot; then proceeded to hit it over and over again, making her girlfriend cry out.
Paige laughed, dropping her face into the space between Rubi's neck and shoulder as she continued to abuse her gooey spot, murmuring, "Next time, you gon' tell me you need this. You got it?" Her warm breath tickled her collarbone, making Rubi giggle softly.
Her laughter faded when Paige squeezed a little tighter around Rubi's throat, urging her to respond. The brunette inhaled deeply through her nose, weak uttering, "Mhm'ueyes..." eyes rolling back before fluttering closed at the pressure.
Paige hadn't had enough, releasing her grip on Rubi's neck and smacking her ass as she instructed, "Say, 'I need you so, so, insanely bad, papi.'" She smirked against the brunette's neck, soothing over the spot she'd slapped as she teased at the nickname that came out when Rubi was in subspace. "Practice f'me." When Rubi didn't respond, Paige jostled her lightly, proceeding to jiggle the fat of her ass in her free hand. "Go 'head, bae."
She shuddered, slightly embarrassed as her walls trembled around the stretch of her fingers." Need y'so, so, insanely bad, papi," She whined, swollen lips stretching into a dimply smile when Paige rewarded her with a kiss to her neck.
Everybody better lock the fuck in and get yo wigs ready cuz we starting the ROTY Campaign and All Star early. Y’all only got an hour to mourn this loss we tight on schedule!!
I LOVE smut/angst where reader is genuinely getting fucked so hard that she crying, mascara running down her face, cervix getting RAMMED by her lady's strap or fingers because she was so stressed like wanted to khs but I also love that gentle love making shi with aftercare. If anybody can give me fic recs for wbb player x reader fics I will actually get on all fours and suck your toes xx
