IS IT CASUAL NOW? PT. 2
paige bueckers x ditzy fem bi curious reader
pt. 1 if u havent read it!
synopsis: reader and paige’s relationship escalates to freakiness before paige reachers her breaking point and they fight.
warnings: smut!!! oral (both receive), slight dub!con just because reader is a lil high, swearing, fingering, calling the hoohah “she”, weed usage again, reader is still a bitch prolly more than pt. 1. one use of y/n i’m sorry😔, lowk whiplash from smut to angst
w/c: 6.6k
a/n: really need suggestions for pt. 3, slightly edited. pretty sure ice and paige weren’t roommates during her acl injury but idc call it an au. in this, ice is her roomate.
“I kissed Paige.” You state plainly, looking at your best friend Emma, sitting on her bed.
“Bueckers?” She gasps.
“Yeah,” you shrug.
“Wait are you okay? did she force herself on you or something?” She asks, voice laced with concern as she touches your knee.
“What?” Your brows furrow. “No, why would you think that?”
“Well I mean I don’t think Paige is like that but I just don’t know why else you’d kiss her.”
“Well… I don’t know, I was pretty high and I just felt bad for her.” You shrug once again, as if this is a completely mundane conversation.
“Why’d you feel bad for her?” She asks, seemingly even more confused now.
“She told me she likes me. I just figured I mean… I won’t date her, the least I can do is kiss her right?”
Emma stares at you in dismay. “Well… did you like… like it?” She asks curiously.
You pause for a moment, looking at the bed to think about it, “yeah,” you nod, “she’s a good kisser.”
“So like… are you bi now?”
“What? No of course not,” you scoff, rolling your eyes like this should be obvious.
“But like… you kissed a girl, and liked it.” She points out.
“So what? Kissing isn’t gender specific. Anyone can kiss, it doesn’t mean I’m gay, I was just helping a friend feel better.”
“Okay… kind of fair but… your journey I guess.” She shrugs.
“Rude,” you mumble.
Emma chooses to ignore you and moves on to tell you about why she’s been getting really annoyed by one of your mutual friends. You regret bringing up Paige.
Paige texts you that Ice is gonna be out of the weekend. She’s hesitant to reach out because you hadn’t talked to her since you’d made out last Friday, but she reminds herself that you never text her first, so this doesn’t mean you’re avoiding her.
hey, ice is going to my this weekend, u wanna come over sometime?
maybe, i’m kinda busy
You were always dry. It used to my make Paige anxious–okay it still did– but she’d accepted that regardless of how cold you seemed, you always came over. Maybe it was just for the free weed, but Paige wanted to believe it was for her.
that sucks!
wyd?
volunteer work. sorority stuff
that’s good!
message liked
alright well if anything changes i’m free
message liked
Nothing but liking her messages? That’s dry, even for you. She sighs and puts her phone down, trying to focus on Grey’s Anatomy, but she’s checking her phone every few minutes to see if you’ll text her. You don’t. Shocker.
10:16 p.m.
u still free?
10:16 p.m.
yes! wanna come over?
10:24 p.m.
alr i’ll be there at like 11
10:25
wait u have eddies right?
10:26
duh
who do u think i am?
message hearted
Paige knew you would be late, you were not a punctual person. At least not when it comes to her. She felt conflicted. On one hand she’d have at least 30 minutes to get ready for you. On the other hand, she’d have at least 30 minutes to start stressing out.
She looked through her dresser. What was gonna look best, without looking like she got dressed for you. She needed to look like she was already wearing this before you texted, but still look good.
She decides on a pair of long black nike shorts, baggy ones that fall just above her knees, and a white sports bra. She looks at herself in her mirror. Yeah, she totally could’ve been wearing this normally, but she still looked good.
She grabs her hair brush and takes her hair back into a low pony tail, tying that into a messy bun. She takes her best perfume, Valentino, it’s masculine but not fully cologne. It’s still someone sweet. She brushes on a little bit of mascara and sits down on her couch. Waiting.
At 11:07 she hears the knock on her apartment door. She opens the door and there you are, in a purple tank top and white skirt, with a big brown coat over the outfit. You look pretty, your hair looks nice and your make up is done. It usually is though. You always look pretty.
“Hi Paige.” You smile.
“Hey,” She smiles back, stepping out of your way to and helping take your coat off, hanging it up on the hooks next to her door.
“It’s pretty cold out, that’s a small skirt you’ve got on.” She points out.
“Not like I walked here,” you shrug. “My car has heating.”
Paige just nods and heads to her room, grabbing the pack of gummies. She comes back out to see you’ve already sat down on her couch and unpaused her episode. “What’s going on?” You ask, gesturing to the TV.
“Uh…” She glances at the TV, handing you the bag of edibles, “Derek wants to confront Richard about his drinking problem.”
“Which one’s Richard?” You ask.
“You don’t watch this show,” she replies with a chuckle, sitting down next to you.
“I still wanna know if he’s cute!” You shrug, taking out a gummy and bitting down on it, chewing the sugary red candy.
“Google him.” She shrugs, taking the bag back and grabbing a gummy for herself.
You huff and take out your phone. A few seconds later she hears a disgusted scoff. “Ew, he’s old.”
Paige can’t help but laugh right away, “I thought you were into older guys!” she teases.
“Not him…” you shake your head.
“Whatever,” she laughs at you, rolling her eyes and refocusing her attention on to the show. It’s easy for maybe… two minutes? But she can feel how close you are. Her right arm is warmer than her left because you’re there. Okay maybe she’s imagining that, but she feels it nonetheless.
Midway through the episode she feels you getting up, she looks up as you walk into her kitchen, opening her pantry and coming back with a box of cocoa puffs. You sit back down and start eating the cereal, Paige reaches over and grabs a handful.
“You don’t even ask…” she shakes her head.
“You invited me.” You point out, she can’t argue with that.
As the next episode ends, the cereal box lays almost empty on the coffee table. Paige’s heart is racing as you inch closer to her. She leans in to, wanting to ensure your subtle advances are reciprocated.
And then she feels your hand on her bicep and you move over to get in front of her, blocking her view of the TV. She doesn’t care about the show because your lips are on hers.
You move soft, lazily. The weed is kicked in for sure, no doubt about it because everything is hazy, and everything takes longer for Paige’s body to register, like when she realizes you’re on her lap with your hands on her abs. She whimpers into your mouth.
She wants to pull away and ask you want the hell you’re doing, yell at you for leading her on. But she can’t seem to be bothered right now, because her stomach is fluttering and her chest is tight and your tongue is slipping into her mouth and her lips are parting without a second thought.
She really will do anything for you.
Her mouth is open and so is yours and her tongue is in your mouth, it’s velvety soft and warm. She feels certain she has never had a better kiss.
So without thinking, simply because she wants to, her hands are on your thighs, her thumbs rubbing soft circles under the white fabric of your skirt.
She pulls a hand away to cup your cheek and pull you in deeper. But you pull away gasping for breath. Not like last time, not like you’re done. Your face is still inches away, lips glossy and puffy.
“You’re so pretty…” Paige murmurs, completely blissed out.
Your cheeks flush pink. You look somehow more perfect. “Thank you,” a soft smile as you lean in and kiss her again.
The kiss is soft and slow, she moves her hands to your waist, holding you in place against her body. Your hands rest comfortably on her biceps.
She was enjoying your tongue when she feels your pull away. It’s only for a brief second though because your lips are on her jaw just after. She hums as you kiss along her jaw and down her neck, your lips trailing to the crock of her neck, where it meets her shoulder.
She feels as your movements stop and stay in the that spot, starting to suck.
“Wait-” she gasps, stopping you, her thoughts taking too long to process.
“What?” You pull back, looking down at her.
“I just, don’t want a hickey,” she swallows.
You furrow your brows, “why not?”
Why not? “You know… like… media.” She shrugs.
“You’re not even playing.” You pointed out. True. Next game she’ll just be court side, not in uniform. She can easily cover a mark.
“Okay.” She nods, tilting her head to restore your free rein.
She regrets even stopping you. She should’ve just let you do whatever you want to her.
She usually hates hickeys. She thinks they’re dumb. But if you wanted her to have 30 hickeys, she’d sit patiently while you sucked on 30 different spots on her body, whenever you want.
A soft whimper escapes her as your teeth graze her skin, your lips creating suction on her neck, your mouth sucking. She can’t believe she’s whimpering. She’ll blame the weed.
Her skin is probably already pink when you pull away and kiss her again, but it’s brief. So brief. Because suddenly you’re getting off her lap and sitting back down next to her.
What! No! “Is something wrong?” She asks, confused, panicked.
You look over at her panic, furrowing your brows. “No? Of course not,” you shake your head and look back at the TV
Oh. Okay.
She looks back at the TV. If all she gets from you is this make out and hickey? That’s okay. She’d take anything she could get from you.
Whether it’s good or not is subjective, but this did become a regular thing. Every Saturday like clockwork, for four weeks straight.
Ice groans as Paige kicked her out once again.
“I’m sorry!” Paige apologizes again, “but you know I’m hooking up with that girl from my psych class!”
That was not true, you were not in Paige’s psych class.
But Ice knew you, and if she knew what you guys were doing, she’d immediately scold Paige for letting some straight girl lead her on and play with her feelings. Deep down Paige probably knew she needed that lecture, but she was in no mood to get it. No.
She was quite happy being strung along, hanging onto scraps of your affection. If you could even call it affection… more like scarps of attention.
But Ice went out, sleeping over at a friend’s, while Paige got ready for you.
This was the 5th week in a row of this, the fifth week since you’d given her that hickey. You’d given her at least one every time since. You even let her give you one last week, it was really low though, right above the edge of your bra, no risk people would see it. You’d never let her claim you anywhere visible.
Paige wasn’t so lucky though because her team had seen plenty of hers. Including Amari which made her nervous. She laughed it off though, insisting it was nothing, that she’s keeping things on the DL.
They all rolled their eyes and just congratulated her on her game. But they all knew how rare it was for Paige to have a hickey, meaning this was absolutely not just “some girl” like Paige claimed. Obviously she was pretty special to be giving Paige so many visible little bruises.
The door opens and you lean up to give Paige a soft kiss, heading into her room on your own, knowing where she always kept her weed.
“Actually!” She stops you, “I have some really important appointments tomorrow for my knee so, I just don’t think I should be hungover,” she explains awkwardly, feeling nervous.
“Okay?” You dismiss, taking out a gummy anyways.
“Oh-” Paige watches as you chew the weed. “So I’m just gonna… babysit you?”
“I don’t need babysitting.” You scoff, plopping down on her bed and grabbing her hand.
“Yeah?” She chuckles, but she’s quickly shit up as you pull her down by the collar of her t-shirt and press your lips against hers.
You’re not even high yet and you’re already kissing her? She doesn’t question it though, she’ll never complain about you kissing her.
But this is different, you’re pushing her onto the bed and getting on your knees at the end.
She scrambled backwards, messing up the freshly cleaned duvet, sitting up against the headboard and motioning for you to come to her.
But you don’t– not right away at least. Instead, at the foot of her bed, you sit on your heels and lift your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Paige’s mouth goes dry. You have on this light yellow lacy push up bra.
She feels heat pool in her stomach at the sight. Sure she’s pushed up your shirt and touched just below your chest, and there was the one time you let her kiss along the edge of that white tube top you wore all the time. But this? This was different. You looked so sexy, and you seemingly knew it. Sometimes she wondered if you knew just how at your mercy she was, or if you were completely oblivious.
Clearly you weren’t completely oblivious as you pushed your hair out of your face, and crawled over to her. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, leaning up to kiss you.
Her hands quickly found your rib cage, palms holding your torso just below the yellow lace, while her thumbs came up to lightly graze the fabric.
I mean, sure you’d seen her in a bra all the time, but that was sports bras, it’s different. Anyone who followed her on TikTok had probably seen her in a sports bra. But you? You looked stunning, this wasn’t some view you could find on the internet, you didn’t walk around like this. And she understood why, this was a precious view, one you couldn’t just give away recklessly. She’s a puddle.
You move over to straddle her lap and she leans down, kissing your neck. She sucks on spots of your skin, but knows how annoyed you’d be if she left a hickey, so she moves on, pressing soft kisses all over instead. She moves lower, kissing along your collarbone and the edge of your bra. At one point she can feel the lace on her chin.
She can taste your skin, your warmth on her lips. She can feel your heart beat against her mouth.
Just over your heart she stop and looks up at you hazy eyed. “Can I leave a mark?” she asks, her voice needy and soft.
You nod. It’s all she needs to suck at the soft skin of your breast, it’s like a rush, like she just hit a cart for the first time in months. Her hand comes up to cup your other boob through the bra.
Her tongue pulls your skin into her mouth and she’s in heaven. She moves down, placing her hands on your hips to lift you off her lap slightly, her lips trailing along your rib cage, little kitten licks just below the wire of your bra.
She sucks on the skin of your abdomen, leaving yet another mark.
The way you arch your back, sitting up for her to reach. Your arms holding onto her biceps. Those soft, breathy exhales. Not really moans or whimpers, but certainly reactions. She loves it.
But she wants even more. She reaches around your back.
“Please…” she looks up at you desperately. “I wanna take it off,” she pleads, fingers twitching to undo that clasp.
She doesn’t even need to because you reach behind yourself and do the work for her. The fabric slips off your shoulders and down your arms, till it’s tossed to the foot of her bed.
Paige’s breath hitches and she stares shamelessly. What else is she supposed to do? Your breasts are perfect, just sitting there in front of her face. It’s like seeing the Sistine Chapel. Scratch that, it’s definitely better, she’s sure of it.
She reaches out to carefully cup one of your breasts in her hand, feeling the weight in her palm, the warmth. She gives a gentles squeeze. Her thumb rubs over your nipple a few times till the bud hardens under her finger and she can give it a small pinch.
It makes your breath hitch. She lives for that.
She leans in and softly kisses the other breast, taking your nipple into her mouth and groaning as she sucks. She could die happy just like this, eyes closed with your tit in her mouth.
Nope, life somehow gets even better because your fingers tangle in her hair. Thank God she didn’t put her hair up tonight. She feels your hand tug at her hair as she sucks, kissing all over your boobs, mouth open, going wherever she can reach.
It’s sloppy, it’s wet, leaving most of your tits damp, but she holds whichever one her mouth isn’t on. She flick her tongue over your nipple and reaches down to unbutton your jean shorts, going slow, giving you time to yell at her to stop.
She’s waiting for it.* ‘what the fuck are you doing paige!? did you really think i’d have sex with you? are you really that dumb?’*
You do not stop her, but instead sit up to slip out of the shorts. She realizes you have matching panties on. Cheeky, lacy, that same yellow. She wonders if you often wear a matching set or if your worn this for her. Did you come over knowing you’d hook up?
Whatever, the more important thing is that her hands are on your thighs and her mouth is making its way below your breasts.
She mover her hands back to your waist and gently lifts you off her lap, guiding you to lay down on her bed as she moves over you. She places a soft kiss on your stomach.
“This alright?” She asks, looking up at you. She knows you’ve never been with a girl before. She also knows if you didn’t want this you’d say something, you’re certainly not one to avoid confrontation. When you feel a certain way you usually make it known. But still she’s sure it’d be wrong to go down on you without at least asking first.
“Of course,” you nod breathlessly.
She couldn’t believe it. She could see the wet patch through your panties as she kissed along the edge of the yellow lace, hooking her fingers in the sides and carefully dragging the fabric down your legs, letting you kick the fabric off on your own.
Here you were, body laid out on her bed, completely naked and stupidly gorgeous. Paige was in awe as she leaned down to place soft kisses on your inner thighs.
She could see your cunt, just inches away from her, glossy with slick, so close she could smell you.
“So fucking pretty…” she mumble, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your clit. So perfect.
She licks a stripe up through your folds, groaning at the taste. She hears you whimper, feeling your squirming. She places her hands on your thighs to part them and leans in to suck on your clit, sucking as hard as she can to ensure you feel good, hearing all those soft breathy whimpers coming from you was everything to her.
She flicks her tongue out repeatedly, lapping up everything she can. “F-fuck– Paige–” she hears you gasp.
It sends a shiver through her and she dives in, messy, sucking, licking, anything to get those whimpers from you.
She closes her eyes for a few seconds, relishing in the moment, her face buried in your pussy, her head burrowed between your legs. Yeah, she’s certain this is where she belongs, this is what she was meant for.
She pulls away, making you whimper, creating a soft pop as she pulls back. “You taste so sweet, you know that?” She murmurs, placing more little kisses on your inner thighs.
“Wait– go back…” you whine, squirming, hips bucking towards her.
She chuckles, “feels good?” she teases, placing more little kisses on your thighs.
She sees your face twist, with a protesting look you croak a soft “please?”
She knows you, she knows you never have to ask twice for anything, especially not from Paige. She almost feels bad, like she should be giving you whatever you want with just a bat of those pretty lashes. But on the other hand the way you say ‘please’ is just too sweet of a sound to only be heard once.
“What was that?” Paige asks with faux sympathy, pulling away further.
She sees your mouth open and hears that signature scoff. “I- wh- what!?” You stammer.
“Aww… can’t even talk?” she coos teasingly. “Just too needy, huh baby?” She grins.
You look distraught. She watches several emotions flash across your face, before–finally–defeat. “Please?” You repeat, louder this time.
“Oh of course,” she smiles. “I know she’s needy, she needs my lovin’ yeah?” she grins.
“Mhm.” You nod helplessly.
Paige dives back in, happy to please you, eating like it’s her last meal.
She feels as you squirm, writhing beneath her. Eventually you reach for her hair, gripping her roots and pulling her face into your heat. You’re close. Right on edge.
“That’s it–” suckle, “you got this–” she pushes, trying to talk as fast as possible, to spend as little time as possible away from your now sopping cunt.
“Paige… ‘m close,” you whine.
“I know,” she nods, sucking harder on your clit, desperate to make you finish.
She hears you cry out in pleasure, she seems your back arch off the bed. She didn’t even have to finger you, you just came undone from her tongue along. She continues to suck and lick, helping you ride out the high, wanting to make that orgasm last as long as possible.
Finally she feels your legs start to clamp around her, squeezing her head. She stays until she hears you whine. She slows to a slow kiss. One last soft peck and she comes up, gasping for breath, pushing her out of her face while your body falls limp, staring up at her hazy eyed.
She smiles down at you, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, open mouth, slow messy kissing. You can taste yourself in her mouth and on her lips.
“You got the best pussy I ever tasted,” she murmurs against your jaw, leaving soft kisses.
“Really?” You look up at her wide eyed and dazed, cheeks flushing.
She realizes how many girls she’d said that too, it was just kind of an… aftercare thing. But obviously you didn’t register than in post orgasm bliss. Perhaps you’d never been told that before, guess it isn’t something guys say.
“Mhm.” She nods. Best? Paige isn’t sure how to rank that, but certainly the one she had to wait the longest for. So in some ways it was definitely the most rewarding head she’s ever given.
She lays next to you for a little while, just playing with your hair. She’s glad she was able to do this, cause she can see in your eyes the weed is kicking in, and she wouldn’t have been able to do this if you were really high. She’d just feel too guilty.
You look up at her with soft vulnerable eyes, “is it fun?” you ask softly.
She furrows her brows, the question catches her off guard, “is what fun?”
“Giving head.” You elaborate.
“Oh!” Paige’s eyes widen, not having expected that. “Yeah, of course.” She nods.
“Are you just saying that?” You ask softly, sitting up and pulling up the blanket to cover your chest.
She sits up too and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, “Why would I lie about that?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Like… so I don’t feel bad.”
“I’m a lesbian, of course I like giving head.” Paige scoffs with a soft laugh. Do you really think this is some chore for her? “I love it, nothing better than being between two pretty thighs, lickin’ some pretty girls pussy.”
“It’s really fun?” You look at her.
She nods.
And if you hadn’t surprised her enough tonight, you do it yet again. “Can I try?”
Her eyes widen, “really?”
You nod, reaching out to play the hes of her t-shirt. “That felt good, I wanna return the favor.”
“Yeah?” She raises an eyebrow. “I mean I’m glad you felt good, but you really don’t have to.” She assures you, shaking her head.
“Paige that was the best head I’ve ever had, I can’t in good faith just go to bed, without… reciprocating.” You insist.
She sees the signs, you’re starting to struggle with finding words, your brain is going slower. “You’re high.”
“So?”
“So I can’t– in good faith,” she mocks you, “let you do that.”
“Why not?” You huff.
“Cause I have no idea you’d want to sober.”
“Bullshit.” You roll your eyes. “You know I’m a slut, I’d totally do it.”
You make a good point. “You’re not a slut,” she shakes her head. “And just yesterday you were insisting you’re straight, so I really don’t know that you’d do that sober.” she points out.
Your face drops and hardens slightly, “it wouldn’t even count.” You spit stubbornly, clearly Paige hit a soft spot.
She sighs, “and why, do tell would it not count?” she rolls her eyes.
“It’s just returning the favor. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not asking you to return the favor.”
“Do you not want me to?” you push.
That stops her. Of course she wants you to, God she’s spent the last year imagining how you’d look on your knees between her legs, how those pretty fingers of yours would look buried inside her. Of course she wants you.
“That’s not fair…” she finally sighs.
“I know you still like me Paige…” your tone shifted, something sweeter. Shit.
“That’s not fair and you know it.” She grumbles.
“You’re the one who confessed. You told me you had feelings, it’d just be friendly Paige.”
If she had any sense she’d ask you why you wanted to give her head so badly. That was admittedly pretty weird, but she couldn’t think about that right now. Not when you look up at her, batting your lashes, wide eyed, that puppy dog look you give her when you want her to buy you something.
You seem to know how impossible it is for Paige to say no to this face, and like clockwork she caves. “Okay fine.” She sighs, giving into the ache between her legs. “You’re 100% sure?”
“Hundred and two,” you nod, already moving to kiss her neck, your hands finding their way under her shirt.
She wants to roll her eyes but you’re pulling her shirt off.
She wants to say something cocky about you being impatient but unfortunately she is too, meaning your tugging at her bra doesn’t elicit anything teasing, just a moan, and her hands–that are thankfully working faster than her brain– pulling the elastic of her bra over her head.
You lean forward and kiss along one of her breasts, hot open mouth kisses along her skin.
Suddenly Paige felt a little bit insecure. She was usually really confident in bed, and with her body in general, but suddenly she wished for her chest to even be a little larger. She reminds herself that she’s been with girls who were just as flat and she never cared, and that you had never even been with a girl at all, so certainly you wouldn’t care.
Not to mention, you were good at this. You hand one nipple in your mouth and the other you were toying with between your fingers. Paige moaned, gasping and holding onto your hair.
Her breast felt cold when your lips were gone, but you’re pushing her against the pillows and sucking on her stomach.
You look up at her hazy eyed with a giggly grin. “I like abs,” you smile at her, her cheeks flush.
“Yeah?” she swallowed.
“I mean it,” you continue, placing pecks on each of the visible muscles, making her tense subconsciously. “You have nice abs Paige.”
“Thank you.” She nods again, watching you tug at her shorts. It takes her a second, her brain feels foggy, but she lifts her hips and helps push them down, letting her panties go with, she doesn’t care if it looks desperate. She’s beyond caring about anything at this point.
She feels deeply uncomfortable all the sudden. That knot in her stomach is still there, but you’ve stopped. You’re just staring. Blankly.
Did she miss a spot when shaving? Is there a rash she didn’t know about? She’s suddenly panicked. She’s remembering jusy how insecure you can make her.
But you look up at her with these hazy doe eyes, “What do I do?” you ask bluntly.
Oh. Right. You’ve never given head before. She’s a little surprised, her first time giving head she had some sort of idea. Her knowledge of her own body helped her to figure out the other girls so many years ago.
“Um–” She swallows, her chest is tight, all she wants is release, and now she had to teach you?
She reaches down, letting out a shaky exhale, and she gently touches her own clit, whimpering a little. “T-this is my clit,” she says awkwardly.
“Jesus Paige, I know how to find the clit,” you laugh at her, rolling your eyes. Well she wasn’t sure! “What do you want me to do? Should I suck first? Lick? Finger you?”
Holy shit. Paige could talk dirty, but not when she was this nervous, how could you be so blunt about this? It’s probably all the weed you had but she tries not to think about that.
“Okay um… can I see your hand?” she swallows.
Immediately you give her your right hand, she’s starting to gain some semblance of her confidence back. She takes your middle finger and guides it to her entrance. “Okay just… start with only one finger.”
You nod and slip your finger into her. It’s not harsh or quick, but it’s not a slow easing either. She lets out a whine and her hips buck up to meet your hand. “O-okay…” she exhaled shakily. She doesn’t even need to instruct you as you begin pumping your finger in and out of her.
It doesn’t take long for you to add the second and start curling your fingers inside of her. It seems you do know what you’re doing after all…
She lets out a long groan as your fingers speed up, “Fuck pretty– just like that,” she grunts. “Feels so good… keeping doing that.”
What really undoes her is when she looks down and sees your face. Your eyes are completely locked on her pussy, watching your own fingers pump in and out of her. Pure fascination written all over you.
If Paige were to allow herself any hope, she’d think you look excited, she’d think you find it beautiful. But Paige keeps those thought buried away, deep in her subconscious, where she can’t let herself believe you might harbor any real feelings for her.
“Fuck,” she gasps, watching you, “can you–” she can’t even get the words out, it’s all too overwhelming. The most beautiful girls she’s ever met, is naked between her thighs, knuckle deep in her cunt. She must be dreaming.
She doesn’t need words, you’re a fast learner, you look up at her and lean down, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking.
She swears she might have a heart attack. The eye contact? The sensations? She’s about to die, she’s sure of it. She feels you speed up and her body writhes, hips bucking up, pressing impossibly closer to your face.
Her hands clench into tight, white-knuckled fists around her comforter. She wouldn’t dare touch your hair. You’d certainly walk out of her apartment if she tried. But she can’t help herself from writhing on sheets, so close to that high she desperately needed.
“Fuck!” she yells, a whiny sound, like she might cry. Her thighs squeeze around your head, her back arches. You don’t stop, your fingers pick up their pace, your tongue sucks her clit hard into your mouth. The knot in her stomach melts into heat shaking her body.
“Please–” she gasps, not even sure what she wants. Her orgasm seems to last forever before her body finally starts to pull away. You recognize it quickly and slow down, disconnecting your mouth with a soft pop.
She takes deep, heavy breaths, chest rising and falling rapidly.
She whines a little when you pull your fingers out slowly. She feels empty without them. She watches as you grab a tissue off her bedside table and wipe off your hands. You turn back and look down at her, pushing your hair behind your ear.
“That didn’t taste bad at all, I kinda thought it would be nasty.” You say calmly.
What? “Um… thanks?”
You roll your eyes. She feels like you’re always rolling your eyes at her. “Just like… I always thought eating pussy probably tasted gross, but it’s kinda just sweaty.” You shrug.
She nods and sits up a little, still dazed, “Uh… yeah it’s a pretty… boring taste.”
You sigh and get up off her bed, stumbling slightly but walking over to your clothes, stepping back into your panties and then pulling your shirt back on.
You sit back down on her bed. “I’m tired, you wanna go to bed now?”
She looks up at you, her vision still feels blurry, her head is still spinning. How could you do all this with her and then just go to bed? You don’t wanna shower together? Hold one another? Did you even care?
There’s a tightens in her chest, this stabbing feeling. No matter what, you really were never gonna care about her, were you?
“Um– yeah, yeah let’s go to bed.” She nods, getting up to go to her dresser, more than anything to face away from you. She slipped on clean underwear–simple grey cotton boxers– and a t-shirt.
She made bed and she laid in it.
The next time you came over she let it happen again. She told herself she wouldn’t, that she was gonna end things. But there you were, tits in her face, begging her to make you feel good again.
“Guys aren’t any good,” you explained. “I just want some good head, that’s all.”
Good head. That’s all she was to you.
“It’s not like I wanna give head or something, but I’d feel bad if I didn’t return the favor.” That was your explanation for going down on her. When you begged her to let you keep going, even as she was shaking from the first orgasm, who was she to deny you? If you wanted to eat, you were gonna.
She let you pull her apart in the name of friendship.
The real blow came at a party the next week. It was early March by now, and a girl was hitting on you.
“Oh no I’m actually straight, sorry! I’m flattered though!” You smile at the girl.
Jesus Christ, how could you still say that? In front of Paige?
“I can’t do this anymore!” She blurts out when you show up to her apartment, leaning in to kiss her.
“What?” You furrowed your brows.
“I can’t! I don’t want to! I don’t wanna fuck, I don’t wanna kiss.” She continues, no matter how much in pains her.
Your brows furrow deeper, “what do you mean? You love fucking me,” you laugh, rolling your eyes.
Fair. “No. I don’t. I don’t love it.”
“Bullshit,” you scoff. Again, true, but she had to stand her ground. “If you didn’t love fucking me, you wouldnt have texted me the second Ice go to her boyfriend’s house.”
“No, I asked you to come over cause I’m calling this off. If you wanna be friends, that’s fine. But I’m not doing this.”
“We are friends.” How did you manage to look confused? Like it was absurd of her to suggest that you guys were anything but friends.
“Oh fuck off! No we are not! Friends don’t fuck!”
“Seriously Paige? Have you never heard the term ‘friends with benefits’? It exists for a reason.”
“Okay whatever! I’m still done!”
“Why?” You push.
“Cause I can’t do it! I’m head over heels for you! You beg to eat me out and then keep up the whole ‘I’m straight’ thing. You show up to my house every week to make out and then pretend nothing happened and I can’t do it! It hurts!” She yells. Her voice shakes, she wants to cry but she keeps it together.
This finally seems to get to you. You don’t look cocky anymore, you don’t look like you couldn’t care less about what she has to say. This genuinely surprised you. “Paige…”
“No! You know how much I like you y/n! I like you so much and it hurts so bad to have you treat me like this! But I don’t wanna just be the girl you fuck when you’re bored, I want you to either admit you’re gay or just leave me alone!”
She sees you change again, at the word gay. Your face shifts. “Shut up!” You’re quick to retort.
“Why!?” she groans, frustration kicking in.
“That’s not fair!” There’s anger in your voice, sure, but most of it is a weak attempt to mask genuine upset.
“Jesus Christ, you’re kidding me…”
“No Paige! It’s not fair! It’s complicated okay!? I don’t wanna be gay!” You insist.
“Seriously? No one wants to be gay, you just are! What’s “not fair” is how you constantly use me to get off, knowing how much I like you, while refusing to acknowledge any form of feelings! That’s what’s not fair!”
You look defeated. Upset and defeated. Deep down she feels bad. She knows this is just as hard for you, battling with your sexuality, questioning years of beliefs. But she knows she’s has every right to be upset too, that she doesn’t deserve to be at your beck and call when all it does is hurt her.
It sucks for both of you.
She watches your face slowly fall. Slowly give in.
“Fine.” You finally shrug. “I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry for leading you on.”
She wants to stop you, to tell you to stay. She wants to yell “wait! i don’t actually care! use me however you want!” she would’ve said that a month ago. Probably a week ago at that. But she didn’t. She watched you put on your shoes, grab your coat, and walk out of her apartment.
She felt hollow inside. But… good. There was a weight off her chest. A small one, but it was freeing nonetheless.
don’t worry guys, there will be part three. please leave suggestions tho. do they hook up again? does reader admit she’s gay? does amari find out? idk yet. anyways i took less than a week (6 days) to get this out, i am so proud of myself.