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is it casual now? pt. 1

paige bueckers x ditzy bi curious reader

2nd person but mostly paige’s pov

wc: 3.9k

warnings: sad, making paige sad, paige is helplessly yearning, reader is kind of a bitch sorry, so much weed usage! making out, no use of y/n, paige calls reader honey, baby, and sugar

plot: you’re gay and deeply in denial and using paige to figure shit out (mean!) and paige is so pussy whipped she just lets you😔 happy ending tho i promise, reader is very girly.

a/n: i’ve never been to uconn, i don’t know what their greek life is like, but in this they have frat parties every week alright? reader has big boobs, if you don’t, neither do i, just pretend. ik i talk about part 2’s a lot of the time but this like really is a series i swear.

Paige’s injury was weighing on her. She hated being out, she hated feeling useless. Any time her team lost she blamed herself, if she’d just taken better care of her body, she could’ve been out there putting in game winning shots. She hated being left out, she hated the pain in her knee.

And my god, she hated how bored she was. She didn’t realize how much of her life was spent on basketball till she couldn’t do anything anymore.

I mean sure she had PT 4 times a week but so much of her life was basketball. No more early morning runs, hours of her day that had once been spent practicing, shooting 3’s, playing scrimmages, or hitting the weight room? Now those hours were spent bumming around her apartment feeling bad for herself.

She started hanging out around you more and more during her recovery. She’d known you for a few years now, one of Amari’s friends. She always thought you were cute but she told herself she didn’t like you. You always had a boyfriend anyways. They never lasted long, but you always had one.

She didn’t like straight girls, she wasn’t a chaser. Liking a straight girl meant endless pinning that wouldn’t get her anywhere.

So no, she didn’t like you– not romantically at least. But she did like getting high in your apartment.

She lays on your bed, staring at the ceiling. The edible has fully kicked in and it’s strong. She knew your boyfriend was over, and it pissed her off (just because he’s a bad boyfriend and nothing else at all) so she went out and got the pack of gummies, sending you a photo of the bag with a ‘?’. She knew you’d kick him out.

But Goddamnit standing in the doorway of your apartment? Apparently because you were hanging out with him, you were dressed for him. She hates when you wear tops to low cut because she can’t take her eyes off your chest. She feels bad but she knows you’re too oblivious to even notice. But the way your tits are straining against that fabric? Begging to spill out on display for her? She’s a mess.

But she ate a gummy and so did you. She knew weed probably wasn’t good for her recovery, but it was the easiest way to be around you. If she reached out to you just asking to hang out, it’s unlikely you’d agree without questions or suspicion.

So here she is, laying in your bed, high as fuck.

You’re sitting on your floor looking out of the window. “I think I’m gonna break up with Ayden.” You sigh softly.

This peaks Paige’s interests, making her sit up. “Yeah? Why?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’m just kinda done. He’s annoying.”

“How so?” She asks, eager to pry.

You turn around and lean on the wall, looking up at her on your bed. “He’s bad at sex, he’s jealous, but he talks to other girls. So… I’m done.”

Paige feels guilty, she hates how exciting this is to her. Granted she gets excited every time you break up with a guy, which makes it twice as painful when you inevitably get with another boy. But this never seems to stop her from getting excited again, a cycle.

“He sounds like an ass. Glad you’re leaving him.” She nods.

You look up at her, those blue eyes glossed over, eyelids heavy. She really is beautiful. “Is it easier being a lesbian? Women seem… like better people.”

She’s surprised. You’ve never really asked her about her sexuality. She thinks for a moment, “Nah girls can be bitches too but… you talk about bad sex a lot and I feel like guys aren’t good in bed. At least with women like… the sex is almost mever bad.” She shrugs, trying to be honest.

Really though, she thinks being a lesbian is terrible, because it comes will falling head over heels for a girl who talks about nothing but boys.

You hum, nodding, “I don’t know like… I like ridding though.”

Paige laughs, you’ve always been overly blunt when you’re high. Today is no exception.

“That’s what straps are for.” She laughs.

Again your reaction manages to surprise her.

“I’ve never understood the appeal. Why not just get with a guy?”

“Cause… women are better. And guys don’t have tits and… women are hotter.” She shrugs. She’s never thought much of it.

“Have you ever used a strap?” You look up at her. Such innocent curiosity in those eyes, what she would give to show you just how great a strap can be. She can just imagine your tits bouncing in that white tube top while you fall apart on the navy blue strap she has in her bottom drawer. Or maybe she’d buy one just for you. A pink one. She’s sure you’d like that.

“Yeah.” She nods. “I’m usually the one wearing it though.”

“So you’re a top?” You ask.

Jeez, how do you even know this shit? Paige nods anyways though. “Yeah it’s fun.” She shrugs.

“Why?” You continue.

What? “Why what?”

“Like… why is it fun, what do you like about it?”

Oh. Shit how does she even explain this to you? “I don’t know it’s like… control or something. And a strap feels good to, you know like… rubs my pussy as well. But… I don’t know it’s just fun to watch a girl fall apart cause I’m fucking her.” She wants to watch you fall apart while she fucks you.

She’s sure she’d be uncomfortable sober, but right now she doesn’t have much going on in her train of thoughts, let alone enough to trigger any form of shame or humility.

“Cool.” You nod. “Why don’t you date anyone though?”

Paige furrows her brows, “Fuck you mean? I just got with a girl last friday.” She scoffs.

You groan and roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know you sleep with people. I mean dating. Why don’t you date anyone.”

“Sure I do.” Paige shrugs.

“Okay, who was the lest girl you actually dated?”

She sighs, thinking back. It admittedly has been seven months, and even that wasn’t a very serious relationship. “Okay whatever. Shut up.”

You just chuckle, shaking your head. You stand up and walk over to the bed, sitting down next to Paige. “So. Who do you like?”

Paige looks up at you with curiosity. “Pardon?”

“Who’s your crush?” You persist.

You. “Don’t have one.” She shrugs.

You huff and cross your arms, “Broringgggg! Come on, there must be someone.”

“There really isn’t,” She shrugs again, “sorry to disappoint.”

You groan, overly dramatic, “You’re such a loser Paige…!”

“Woah woah woah!” She laughs, “not too much on me, I like being single.”

The only other times Paige saw you were frat parties. This made her love frat parties. She didn’t actually care for them very much, she was indifferent, but it was an excuse to see you. She told herself she really did like frat parties, even if it wasn’t true.

So here she is on a Friday night with Aubrey and Ice, with a white polo, jorts, and a slight limp.

She’s immediately hit with the smell of weed as she walks through the door. Figures. The music was loud and the space was already crowded.

She headed to the kitchen and opened the cooler, grabbing the first beer she saw.

Okay maybe she did like frat parties, but she wouldn’t go as often as she didn’t if you didn’t go to so many.

It’s not like you went every week, but usually every other. You said it was good enough for you. You’re still getting out twice a month, but no one can say you party every weekend.

She pretended to care about the other people she said hi to, but she didn’t. She was looking for you.

When her eyes found you she froze. You had on a black tank top, a tight one, letting her see your cleavage. Okay letting anyone see your cleavage, but she liked to wish deep down it was for her. And this little sparkly sequin cheetah print skirt, she’d seen you wear once before at the start of the year.

You looked amazing. When did you not?

She made her way over to you, trying to seem as chill as possible, like you both just happened to be at the same party, like she wasn’t here for you.

“Hey,” She smiled.

You’d been talking to someone Paige vaguely recognized, a girl in your sorority. You look up and stop your conversation, standing up and giving me a hug. “Hi Paige!” You smile excitedly.

She feels butterflies at the thought of how happy you always were to see her. I mean sure, you were extremely social and acted like that when you saw most people, but Paige still felt special.

She notices as you look down at the beer in her hand and grimace, “that shit is so nasty, why do you drink it?”

“Better than being a girl-drink-drunk,” she teases, referring to the Blue Raspberry Beatbox in your hand. She’s tried them before, so much fruit juice and sugar you can’t even taste the alcohol.

“Whatever, have fun tasting gross,” you shrug rolling your eyes.

Tasting gross? Did you think she was gonna kiss someone? Paige ignores that.

“You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah!” You nod, you quickly motion for your friend you’d been talking to stand up. “This is Celia!” You smile.

Paige smiles and extends her hand, “Paige.” She smiles politely.

“I know!” The girl smiles shaking Paige’s hand.

Did you talk about her to Celia? But her question is answered before she can think much longer about it.

“I’ve been to some of your games,” Celia smiles.

Figures, she doesn’t like to be cocky but she knows the majority of campus knows who she is. She just likes to be optimistic that people won’t know who she is.

“Cool,” she nods. “We won I’m sure?”

“Yeah!” Celia nods, “It was uh… DePaul the last one I saw you at.”

“Nice.” Paige remembers the last time she played DePaul. Last season before she got this fucking tear.

“I’m gonna go find my boyfriend!” Celia announces, more to you than Paige she assumes. Sure enough you give her a hug and promise to find her later.

“She seems cool.” Paige smiles down at you.

“I don’t really know her that well,” you shrug in response. “Just some mutual friends.”

“I get that,” she nods, feeling awkward, worried you’ll go talk to someone else. “So did you dump Ayden yet?”

“Don’t say dump!” You scoff, “I politely ended things!” You clarify, “but yeah.”

Paige nods, secretly happy, “Nice. You happy?”

You nod, “yeah I guess it’s good he’s gone.”

“What now?” She continues.

“I mean… I should probably try out being single but… I don’t really want to.” You shrug.

“What’s the longest you’ve been single?” She asks.

“Well… I was single the whole summer between Freshman and Sophomore year, so probly like 4 months?”

Paige feels like she should be surprised, but in the year or so she’s known you, you’ve been with 5 different guys. If she was an asshole she might even consider you a slut, but that thought hadn’t really crossed her mind.

“l guess I’m kind of a whore, huh?” You continue.

“What? No of course not!” Paige says quickly, not wanting you to think so low of yourself. “It’s totally normal to date a lot in college, that’s the whole point of your 20’s.”

You pause and smile up at her. “Thanks Paige.” You seem to genuinely appreciate her defending you.

“This party kinda sucks,” you sigh, looking around. “Wanna dip?”

Paige didn’t care what they did, the thought of doing something with you was enough to have her nodding in seconds. “Totally.” She agrees.

After finding Ice to give her a quick a goodbye, and being told Aubrey was “busy” with a girl and wouldn’t wanna be interrupted, Paige headed out to her car where you were waiting.

“Are you sure you can drive?” You fuss again.

“Honey I’ve had half a beer all night, I can drive.” She assured you.

“Alright,” You sighed, getting into her passenger seat.

A few minutes into the drive to Paige apartment, you spoke again, “Do you have more edibles at your place?”

“Yeah I got a pack.” She nods.

“Can we get high?” you ask.

“Course,” she nods, eyes on the road. Paige didn’t actually get high very often. I mean, she’d done it several times throughout her first two years of college, but it wasn’t something she could do often. After all she’s an athlete, she needed her body to be at the top of its game all the time, and weed wasn’t exactly healthy. But she liked getting high with you, she’d never say no to that.

You slip off your black kitten heels in the doorway of her apartment. Ice wouldn’t be home till much later, so Paige wasn’t worried about interruptions. She headed into her room, rummaging through her drawer of t-shirts to find the bag of gummies at the bottom.

She took one out and chewed it, it tasted slightly like raspberry and mostly like weed. Gross. Whatever. She handed you the pack, watching you chew a gummy as well.

“You want something?” She asks, looking at you in her doorway.

“Like what?” Your brows furrowed.

“Food? Water?”

“Oh!” You giggled. “Yeah! Do you still have those sprite cans?”

“Sure do mamas,” she smiled, heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge, handing you a can. She knows better than to throw it at you, remembering cleaning up sprite all over her floor after making that mistake before. You did not catch the can, instead it hit her counter and exploded.

She watches as you carefully crack open the soda can, cautious of your shiny baby pink nails.

You bring the can to your lips and take a sip, rubbing off some of that sparkly brown lip gloss.

You head into Paige’s bedroom and sit down on her bed. You don’t ask, or even look to see if Paige is following. Maybe you know how much you have her around her finger, like you know she’d always say yes to you and always follow. Or maybe you were oblivious. She wasn’t sure, but she was sure to follow you into her room and sit down across from you, leaning on her headboard.

“You gonna spill that sprite on my bed?” She smirks.

“Nuh-uh!” You shake your head. “Pink sweat!” You insist, holding out your right pinky to lock with hers.

“Alright…” She chuckles, squeezing your pinky with hers.

“So do you have a crush yet?” You ask her.

“What?” Paige looks up.

“Last time we got high, you said you had no crushes. Have you gotten one yet?”

Gotten one? Paige laughs. “Sorry sugar, no dice.”

You pout. Paige laughs again. Maybe the weed is getting to her brain faster than usual because something in her just snaps the way you look at her all soft and pouting. It’s like her train of thought is just silent.

“Alright maybe I do.” She admits.

Your face lights up. She loves how happy you look. All that cause she has a crush? Paige just wants to make you happy after all.

“Who? Who? who?” you squeal happily, tapping Paige’s leg repeatedly.

“You.” She smiles softly.

You furrow your brows and laugh a little, seemingly ignoring her answer and persisting. “Come on! Tell me! Pleaseeeee! I’m such a good secret keeper!” You insist.

“I did tell you!” Paige replies.

“When?” You furrow your brows. God you were so oblivious…

“Just now, it’s you.” She continues. Goddamit she wishes anything would come into her head and stop her, but somehow just seeing how sweet you looked wanting to know her crush? She couldn’t lie to you.

“Ha ha, very funny Paige.” You roll your eyes. “Just tell me!”

She leans forward, to look at you closer, “You don’t believe me?” She says softly.

Your face shifts, more confused now. “Paige…” Disbelief on your face. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” She nods. Jesus where did her shame go!?

“Why?” You furrow your brows. “Paige you know I’m straight. You’re being silly.”

“Yeah I know you’re straight and I hate it, how ‘bout that?”

“What?” Your voice drops. You look hurt. Upset. Oh no! How did she upset you.

Paige gets nervous, “Shit baby, what’s wrong?”

“No! You can’t call me baby now! You like me? Like… like like me?” You still look so hurt.

“Yeah… so?”

“Well… now I feel terrible Paige! What am I supposed to do?” You huff, throwing your hands up and smacking the bed.

“What do you mean?” She’s confused. You’re upset? Even though she’s the one who’s had to pine after you with no hope in sight.

“I just…” You sigh, clearly struggling to find words, “I love you so much and… I’m sad that you’re sad and… it’s my fault, but I can’t fix it…”

Paige worries, you look like you’re on the verge of tears. The weed is definitely kicking in. “Wait-” She gulps, feeling bad that you feel bad. You really just are too sweet for your own good. “Please don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault you don’t feel the same.” she assures you.

You sigh again, very pouty tonight and just stare at Paige.

Then you do something Paige would’ve never seen coming. She’s too high to process you leaning in, or to understand what she’s feeling as your lips hit hers. She let it happen because she’s so out of it and so slow to register what’s happening.

But soon enough she pulls back, grabbing your arms to pull you off of her, “What the fuck are you doing?” she doesn’t sound angry, just deeply confused.

Your face softens into something guilty and pitiful, “I’m trying to help you feel better…” You sit back, looking like a kicked puppy.

“What?” Paige is still deeply confused and shocked.

“I just thought… you know… if you liked me you’d wanna kiss me and… this way you get to.” You shrug meekly.

Jesus you were sickeningly sweet. You were kissing her to try and give her some of yourself, because she knew she’d never have you. But despite your good intentions, this only makes things worse for her. Now she’s gotten to feel your lips, knowing she’ll never get to again. She already knew she’d couldn’t have you, but now she knows she can’t have you or those pretty lips. The lips she once loved to stare at when you were distracted, the lips she’s certain will permanently be burned into her.

“No, no… that’s not- you shouldn’t-” Paige sighs, unsure of what to say.

“How can I make you feel better?” You look up at her through those soft beaty lashes. Wide doe eyes, slightly red and heavy from the weed, but still desperate to help others.

“I don’t know,” she sigh, shaking her head and rubbing her temple.

Paige is convinced you’d like to kill her. I mean you must right? Because then and there, before her own eyes, you lean forward and crawl over to her. Paige’s mouth goes dry.

She’s hallucinating. This is some dirty, perverted hallucination. Surely her drink and the party was laced, and she’s gonna wake up in the basement of a frat house right?

Or no, maybe this is God punishing her. For what she’s not sure, but you must be a demon sent to torture her, looking so desperate to please, your tits hanging on for dear life in that tank top just inches away from her.

“Please Paige…” You plead, sitting back on your calves, jusy inches from her, “tell me how to do to make this all better.”

Maybe this is a test. God gives his toughest battles to his toughest soldiers. But apparently God was wrong this time, because Paige simply isn’t strong enough. All she can do is pull you into a kiss, her fingers gripping the hair on the back of your head, surely messing it up. She doesn’t care.

Her mouth opens and she groans. You taste like weed and vodka and gummies and heaven. Yes Paige is certain her theory about a hallucination is correct. But she hopes she never wakes up, and she can spend the rest of her life in this dream like trace where you of all people are sliding their tongue into her mouth. You are kissing her back. Life is unreal.

She’s sitting in her bed, and you’re on your knees in front of her, kissing her back. She pulls away to gasp for breath, but only for a second or so, leaning back in, one hand on your jaw, the other still holding the back of your hair.

She feels like she might explode as she feels your finger tips on her bicep, your nails lightly grazing her skin as your palm wraps around her arm. She’s suddenly thinking about how she skipped weights yesterday. Stupid. She’ll never skip a weight day again after feeling your hand on her muscle.

She practically whimpers into your mouth as your other hand finds her waist. The kiss that keeps on giving she figures.

All good things must come to an end though. That’s never been so evident as when you pull away and not just to gasp for breath, but sit back.

“Somthn’ wrong?” She asks, sitting up a little, completely breathless and dazed.

“I’m tired Paige,” you pout. God that fucking pout… “can we go to sleep?”

“Uh- yeah sure, whatever you want.” And she means it. Paige quite literally would do whatever you wanted, she’s sure of that.

So despite wanting to touch new places on you, see how deep she can get her tongue into your mouth maybe? She’ll lay down and go to sleep because that’s what you want.

You don’t bother changing out of your sequin skirt or washing off your make up, you just lift up her covers and lay down like it’s your own bed. In some ways it kind of is, in the sense that she’d let anything you want be yours.

She carefully slides out of the bed and pads into her bathroom, she brushes her teeth and changes into some better sleep clothes. She’s cautious getting back into bed, worried you might’ve fallen asleep already. She quickly proven wrong and you roll over right away, snugging into her side, one leg draped over hers and your head on her chest.

She freezes, breath hitching. She’s not sure what’s wrong with her. Plenty of girls had gotten clingy and laid on her chest, this wasn’t new to her. So why did you affect her so much?

She watches as you come up and place a soft lazy kiss on her bottom lip, “goodnight Paige…” you murmur softly as you cuddle up on her chest.

You were so soft with her. Why? “Goodnight” she replied softly, your name barely leaving her lips, her voice so hushed. She’d be surprised if she woke up from anything other than a heart attack.

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