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paigesluver · 22 days ago

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for me? | chapter_2

paige bueckers x fem reader

synopsis; you and paige share unspoken feelings for each other, resulting in an escalating tension that complicates your friendship and challenges your emotions

warnings; mostly fluff

hi hi! i wanted to have this out two months ago but i got so busy and then i went out of state,, but now i’m back and i finally finished writing and editing this chapter. i wanted to have it out before my birthday that’s in a few days, so i hope everyone enjoys it and let me know what you think!

chapter_1

The court buzzed with its usual energy. Sneakers screeched against the polished floor, basketballs echoed as they hit the hardwood, and the chatter of players filled the air. You stood just off to the side, camera in hand, capturing moments for the facility’s social media. The lens framed everything differently—the focus on laughter, teamwork, and the gritty intensity of practice.

Paige, ever the center of attention, was dribbling lazily across the court, joking with her teammates. You adjusted your camera and took a quick shot of her mid-laugh, the golden afternoon light filtering through the windows and catching the sharp curve of her jawline.

"What's the question of the day?" Paige called out, noticing your camera aimed her way.

You grinned, pulling up the notes app on your phone. "Alright, here we go. If you had to play one-on-one with any celebrity, who would it be, and why?"

The team perked up at the question, several of them shouting over one another. Paige, however, walked over to you, leaning in closer than necessary.

“Does it have to be basketball?” she asked, her teasing tone drawing your attention.

“You’d pick a celebrity for ping-pong or something?” you shot back, smiling.

Paige chuckled, crossing her arms. “Nah, just trying to figure out if I can pick you.”

Her words took you by surprise, your heart stuttering for half a beat. You couldn’t tell if she was flirting or just being playful. Before you could respond, she winked and turned back to the court, tossing the ball toward a teammate.

You shook off the moment and refocused, interviewing the rest of the players between their drills. KK wanted to challenge LeBron James "just to see if I’d score one point," Azzi picked Zendaya for the fun of it.

When you caught up with Paige again, she was standing under the hoop, her hands resting lightly on her hips. "Get your content yet, paparazzi?"

"Almost," you said, lifting the camera to snap a candid shot of her.

"You want something cooler, right?" Paige teased, motioning toward the hoop. “Follow me.”

Before you could protest, Paige grabbed the basketball and started shooting. She made every single basket, each motion fluid and precise, until she finally dunked one with ease. She turned to you, catching your eye as if to ask, Did you get that?

You laughed. "Alright, show-off. I think we’ve got plenty."

But Paige wasn’t ready to stop. “One more—come on, you’re up,” she said, jogging toward you with determination.

“What? I’m just here to take pictures,” you protested, but she waved off your excuse without hesitation.

Paige grabbed your hand, pulling you onto the court. The camera swung against your chest as you stumbled to keep up with her determined stride. “This is for the content,” she declared, her tone mock-serious but her grin giving her away.

“Sure it is,” you replied, rolling your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips.

“Here, hand me that,” she said, gesturing to your camera. Before you could argue, she had slipped it around her neck like it was hers. “You take the shots, and I’ll handle the camera this time.”

“What? Paige, I’m terrible at this!” you protested, clutching the basketball she handed you.

She ignored your hesitation, already adjusting the camera settings. “Just try. I’ll make you look good,” she said with a wink, crouching slightly to frame you in the shot.

You sighed, lining up for an easy free throw, but your nerves buzzed under her watchful eye. The ball left your hands, arcing through the air before it clanged off the rim.

“Nice try,” she teased, snapping a picture of your reaction—a mix of frustration and amusement. “C’mon, try again.”

You dribbled the ball, determined this time, and took another shot. This one swished cleanly through the net, and Paige cheered, clicking the shutter as the ball dropped through.

“There we go!” she called, capturing the moment you turned back to her, triumphant and grinning.

For the next few minutes, Paige followed you around the court with your camera, snapping candid shots as you attempted layups, jump shots, and even a few half-court attempts just for fun. She directed you like a pro photographer, calling out instructions and encouraging you between shots.

“Alright, now go for a big one,” she said, stepping back to get the whole court in the frame.

You sprinted to the hoop, jumping higher than you thought possible and releasing the ball at the perfect moment. It sailed through the net, and when you landed, Paige was already laughing, the camera clicking nonstop.

“Got it,” she announced, flipping the screen to show you the photo—a mid-air action shot with your determination written all over your face.

“Not bad,” you admitted, still catching your breath.

Paige handed the camera back to you, a playful smirk on her face. “Told you I’d make you look good.”

As the session wound down, the two of you sat on the sidelines, reviewing the photos together. Each image told a little story: missed shots, triumphant victories, and moments of unfiltered joy. Paige leaned in close, pointing out her favorite ones. For a while, it felt like the rest of the world faded away—just the two of you, the court, and the warm glow of the setting sun.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” she said, tilting her head as she studied one of the shots. “Even my bad angles look good.”

“You don’t have a bad angle,” you replied, crossing your arms.

Paige turned to you with a knowing smirk. “Flattery won’t save you from a rematch.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” you shot back, reaching for the camera, but she held it just out of reach.

“I mean it,” she said, her tone softening. “You don’t just take pictures—you capture the best parts. The stories. People notice that.”

Her sincerity caught you off guard. It made you feel… seen, in a way you didn’t quite expect. You swallowed, uncertain how to respond. This wasn’t the usual playful banter. She wasn’t just teasing you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, fiddling with the camera strap.

Paige handed the camera back, her expression gentler now, the playful energy from before replaced by something more sincere. She studied you for a moment, as though weighing her words carefully. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “You’ve got something special.”

The words hit you harder than expected. You’d heard her teasing and joking all evening, but this was different. There was no humor in her tone now, just a raw sincerity that made your chest feel a little fuller. You smiled, warmth spreading inside you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Paige gave a small nod, her eyes flickering with something almost unrecognizable for a moment, before she cracked a grin again. “Good,” she said, nudging your shoulder with her own in a casual but surprisingly tender gesture. “You should. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

Her smile was back to its usual mischievous charm, but there was something deeper in it now—something that made you realize how much she cared beneath all the banter. You felt a strange sense of connection in that moment, a bond forged not just through competitiveness, but through a mutual understanding that went beyond words.

You stood there for a moment, not sure what to say. The game had been fun, but these quiet, honest exchanges—this was the kind of thing you’d never expected from Paige. It felt like she was offering you a piece of her that wasn’t just about winning or being the best. It was about seeing something in you, even when you didn’t see it in yourself.

The gym had mostly emptied out, the sounds of bouncing balls and sneakers replaced by quiet chatter and fading footsteps. Her teammates left one by one, tossing casual goodbyes as they passed.

“Are you sticking around?” Paige asked once the gym fell silent.

You hesitated, glancing at your phone. The thought of leaving didn’t feel right. “I guess I could stay a little longer.”

“Good.” Paige grabbed the basketball, spinning it on her finger. “One-on-one. No cameras this time.”

You groaned, standing up reluctantly. “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

“Nope,” she said, tossing you the ball. “I’m trying to teach you. Big difference.”

The game started lighthearted, with Paige sinking shots effortlessly while you fumbled to keep up. As the minutes passed, she slowed down, coaching you through your form between teasing remarks. You surprised yourself by scoring a few points—though it was clear she wasn’t playing at full capacity.

“Alright, final shot,” Paige announced after what felt like forever but was closer to twenty minutes. “Sink this, and I’ll admit you’re not half bad.”

“Great,” you muttered, lining up the shot. Taking a deep breath, you bent your knees and released the ball. It arced through the air and dropped cleanly through the net.

“Whoa,” Paige said, her eyebrows lifting in mock surprise. “Didn’t see that coming.”

You bowed dramatically. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

She laughed, the sound echoing in the empty gym. “Okay, maybe you’re not terrible.”

The moment lingered, the two of you standing on the court as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. Paige spun the basketball in her hands, her expression softening.

“You know,” she said quietly, “I wasn’t joking earlier.”

“About what?” you asked, though part of you already knew.

“Picking you. For the one-on-one thing.”

Her eyes met yours, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through her usual confidence. She stepped closer, placing her hands on your waist. Her thumbs brushed against you in slow, absentminded movements, her touch grounding and warm.

“It’s not every day you meet someone who makes you want to keep playing—even after practice is over.”

Your heart skipped, her soft sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. The warmth of her hands on your waist made the world around you fade, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of you, standing in the quiet stillness of the gym.

Before you could find the words to respond, Paige’s familiar smirk returned, breaking the tension. “But don’t let it go to your head or anything. I still totally destroyed you out here.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

As the two of you finally headed toward the exit, Paige slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a casual side hug. The warmth of her gesture lingered long after you’d parted ways, and as you flipped through the photos that night, one thought stayed with you: Maybe some moments were too good to just capture—they were meant to be lived.

A few days had passed since that one-on-one game, but Paige’s words still lingered in your mind. You’ve got something special. It had caught you off guard—Paige was usually all about competition, teasing, and pushing limits. But that night, her tone had held something deeper, something quieter. Beneath the playful banter, there had been a flicker of sincerity that made you stop and think.

Shaking off the thought, you refocused on the present. Your phone buzzed, pulling you back. A message from Kaia: art gallery tonight. be there at 7?

A small smile tugged at your lips. After the intensity of the gym, the invitation felt like a breath of fresh air. Kaia had a way of pulling you out of your own head, reminding you that not everything had to be a competition.

The gallery was tucked into a quiet corner of the city, a world away from the echo of bouncing basketballs. Inside, the scent of fresh paint mingled with the murmur of conversation, soft lighting casting gentle shadows on the walls. Kaia stood near a painting, brow furrowed in thought.

“You’ve been here long?” you asked, stepping beside her.

Kaia turned, her expression brightening as she met your gaze. “Just got here,” she said, but there was something thoughtful in the way her eyes lingered on the painting before her. She gestured toward the abstract piece—a chaotic mix of reds and blues, bold strokes clashing like two forces refusing to yield. “What do you think of this one?”

You tilted your head, letting your gaze trace the sharp edges of color, the way the hues bled into one another yet never fully merged. “Hmm. Fire and water battling for dominance?”

Kaia’s lips curved into a slow smile before she let out a small laugh, light and effortless. “I like that. A constant struggle—never quite winning, never quite losing.” She crossed her arms, considering the piece again. “I guess it’s all about perspective. Maybe they’re not fighting. Maybe they’re learning how to exist together.”

Something about the way she said it made you pause. You glanced at her, but she had already moved on to the next painting, lost in thought. Without thinking, you followed.

The gallery’s atmosphere wrapped around you like a quiet hum—soft conversations blending with the distant clinking of wine glasses, the scent of fresh paint hanging in the air. As you wandered through the exhibit, the world outside—work, exhaustion, Paige—seemed to loosen its grip on you.

At one point, you sighed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I feel like I’m just... treading water, you know?”

Kaia slowed her steps and turned slightly, her gaze searching yours. She didn’t rush to respond. Instead, she let the moment settle between you, as if making space for the weight of your words.

“You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she said finally, her voice soft but sure. “Sometimes, the best thing you can do is take a step back. Breathe.”

Her words settled into you, quiet but grounding. A simple truth, one you hadn’t let yourself accept until now. Not everything had to be about the next move or the next win. Sometimes, it was enough just to be here.

You both stopped in front of a display of sculptures, their twisted forms casting long, distorted shadows under the dim lighting. Kaia reached out, tracing the curve of one with her fingertips, her expression unreadable.

“People aren’t always easy to figure out either,” she murmured. “It’s about the layers, even when the full picture isn’t clear.”

The way she said it made you wonder if she was talking about more than just the art.

Her words lingered longer than you expected, settling into the quiet spaces of your mind.

By the time you reached the exit, the weight of the week had lifted, replaced by something easier, lighter. Kaia turned to you with a grin. “This was fun. Let’s do it again soon.”

You smiled, the night’s quiet warmth settling into your chest. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As you stepped into the cool night air, your thoughts flickered back to Paige—the teasing, the tension, the way she’d looked at you that night. Her words had lingered in ways you hadn’t expected.

But standing here, beside Kaia, it didn’t feel as heavy.

The drive home was quiet, the kind of stillness that settled in after a good night—one that didn’t demand anything from you. The city lights blurred past your windows as SZA filled the car, something soft, something easy.

Then your dashboard screen lit up, cutting through the dark.

The contact name on the screen made your chest tighten.

pb5⭐️💜

Your music faded as the call rang through the car speakers. For a second, you just stared at it, your fingers hovering over the steering wheel. Then, before you could think too much about it, you hit the answer button.

“Hey,” you said, your voice more uncertain than you wanted it to be.

There was a pause, then Paige’s voice came through, low and familiar. “Hey. Are you busy?”

You glanced at the road ahead, your grip tightening slightly. “Uh, just driving home. What’s up?”

Another pause, just long enough to make you wonder why she was calling.

“I don’t know. Just felt like talking to you.”

Something in her voice made your pulse skip, a quiet thread of something unsaid weaving between the words.

The city stretched out ahead of you, the road open, the night still.

And just like that, Kaia’s steady presence, her grounding energy, faded into the background.

Because Paige was here now. And she had your full attention.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, the steady thrum of the tires against the pavement barely registering beneath the sound of Paige’s voice.

“You just felt like talking?” you repeated, shifting in your seat.

There was a pause, then a quiet exhale, almost like a laugh. “Yeah. Weird, right?”

A little. Paige wasn’t the type to call for no reason.

You kept your eyes on the road, the city lights streaking past in a blur. “What’s up?”

Another pause. This one stretched longer.

“That afternoon. After practice.”

Your stomach dipped.

You knew exactly what she meant.

“What about it?”

There was movement on the other end, like she was shifting, maybe leaning against something. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “I meant what I said.”

Your fingers flexed against the wheel.

You’ve got something special.

The words had caught you off guard then, and now—now they felt like they carried an even deeper weight.

“I know you did,” you admitted.

Paige let out another breath, softer this time. “I keep thinking about it.”

Your grip on the wheel tightened. “Paige…”

“I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now,” she cut in before you could say anything else. “I just—do you ever think about it?”

A car passed in the opposite lane, its headlights flashing across your dashboard before fading into the distance.

You could lie. Say no. Say it hadn’t stuck with you the way it clearly had with her.

But it had.

You exhaled, running your tongue over your teeth. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I think about it.”

There was a long pause, and this time, it wasn’t just a silence—it was thick, like the air before a storm. You could almost feel her weighing your words, and you weren’t sure if you wanted her to speak or if you just wanted to keep that silence between you.

“Good.”

The word was soft, simple, but it landed heavy.

“Paige, what do you mean by that?” You asked, needing to know. But she didn’t answer. Neither of you spoke, the silence stretching on between you. You were both standing at the edge of something you weren’t sure you were ready to define.

And still, neither of you hung up.

After you got home, you spent an hour working on projects, phone next to you as you talked to Paige. The conversation flowed easily, but eventually, you decided to take a break. You ran a bath to unwind, letting the warm water ease the tension from your muscles.

Once you were done, you changed into your pajamas, taking your time with your skincare routine. When you finally crawled into bed, you turned on XO, Kitty—a soft distraction to help you wind down. By the time you'd watched a few episodes, sleep started to pull at you, and you drifted off.

A few hours later, your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up in the dark room. It was Paige. Confused, you answered the call.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

Paige’s voice came through, soft but steady. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just... wanted to see you.”

You rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the fog. “Now?”

You pulled the phone away from your ear for a second to check the time: 2:10 AM. You weren’t sure what to make of this, but you felt a flicker of curiosity.

“Yeah, now,” she said without hesitation.

“Okay,” you replied, still half-sleeping but willing to go along with it. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’ll just come to you,” she said, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

You stayed on the phone with her as she made her way to your apartment, the soft sounds of the night outside filtering through. It was oddly comforting, her voice in your ear as she drove.

Soon enough, she let you know she was downstairs. You used your app to let her into the garage and up to the elevator. A few minutes later, she said, “I’m walking to your door.”

You jumped up and opened the door before she had a chance to knock. She walked in, wrapped in a hoodie and pajama pants, looking a little out of place but still somehow perfect in the moment. You locked the door behind her.

“Hi,” you said, your voice still carrying the warmth of sleep.

“Hi, pretty,” she responded, and before you could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around you. You instinctively pressed your face into her chest, arms going around her.

“Mmm, you’re warm,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of her body seep into yours.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said softly. “I just really wanted to see you.”

You looked up at her, noticing her hair was in a low bun and she was wearing her purple glasses. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked. “And you brought me my favorite ice cream?”

Paige grinned, holding up a Cold Stone bag. She reached inside, pulling out a container of French vanilla with caramel. “I did,” she said, her eyes sparkling with playful confidence. “I know you can’t resist.”

You laughed, surprised and amused. “That is very true,” you replied, taking the ice cream from her.

She chuckled, watching you take a bite before stepping back, only long enough to kick off her slides and then pulling you with her as she walked toward your bedroom. Still holding onto you, she shed her hoodie and dropped it on the bed, revealing a plain tee underneath. She looked at you with a knowing grin.

“Lift your arms,” she said.

You complied without question, and she slipped her hoodie onto you, the fabric big and warm.

“You look adorable,” she said, and before you could react, she grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of you, pouting slightly.

You climbed back into bed, the sheets cool against your skin. Paige followed, curling up beside you. You yawned, and she immediately apologized.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured, her fingers brushing through your hair.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, settling against her. “Why’d you want to see me?”

“I don’t really know,” she admitted softly. “I just wanted to be near you.”

Her words hit something deep within you, and you moved closer to her, your head resting on her chest. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight.

As you looked up at her, her eyes were focused on your lips. You couldn’t help the smirk that formed.

“If you want to make out with me, just ask,” you said, teasing. “I’ll say yes.”

Paige chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. “Relax,” she said, dragging the word out, laughter dancing in her voice. "You're cute, but relax."

“You know it’s true,” you said, a playful grin spreading across your face. “Why else would you want to see me at this time?”

Paige smirked, rolling her eyes but with a glint of amusement in them. "Maybe I missed you," she replied casually, reaching for the remote. She flicked on Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, then glanced back at you. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Not really,” you said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “I know you're obsessed with me. You brought me my favorite ice cream.”

Paige chuckled, leaning back on the bed, glancing at you with a playful, almost teasing expression. "Guilty," she said, her voice light. "But if that makes me obsessed, then maybe I'm okay with it."

You couldn’t help but grin at her playful confidence. You took another spoonful of ice cream, feeding Paige a bite, going back and forth until it was gone. There was a little bit of ice cream on the side of her lips, so you reached up and kissed her softly, smiling.

"Look who's kissing who now," she teased, her eyes twinkling.

You rolled your eyes, grinning. "How come you didn’t get your own ice cream?" you asked.

"I knew you were gonna share with me, pretty girl," she replied, her tone warm and playful.

You put the empty container back in the bag and settled back into bed, resuming the movie. Before long, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, and despite the movie still playing, sleep overtook you. Paige’s soft fingers continued to trace gentle shapes against your skin as you drifted off.

It wasn’t long after you had fallen asleep that you felt her press a soft kiss to your forehead. The TV clicked off, and she snuggled in close beside you, her warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Soon, her breathing became steady, and she drifted off to sleep as well, the two of you wrapped in peaceful silence.

Hours later, you woke up to the warmth of arms wrapped around you. For a moment, you were still half asleep, not sure where you were, but the softness of the sheets and the comforting pressure against your back felt familiar. Then it all came rushing back—Paige had come over in the middle of the night, and at some point, she had spooned you, her body pressed against yours as you both drifted off to sleep.

You smiled gently, feeling the warmth of her breath on the back of your neck as you shifted slightly in her embrace. The night had been a comforting blur, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of calm and contentment knowing Paige was there with you. Her arms were wrapped securely around you, the steady pressure grounding you in the moment.

Paige stirred, her breath brushing over your neck as she adjusted her position, pulling you closer. It felt completely right, like everything was exactly as it should be. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth between you settle you into a peaceful half-sleep.

After a moment, Paige shifted again, fully waking. Her eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as she took in the quiet scene. For a few seconds, you both remained tangled in the sheets, still caught in the early hours of the morning.

"Morning," she whispered softly, her voice husky from sleep.

"Morning," you replied, your voice still thick with drowsiness.

She gave you a sleepy smile before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling you even closer. You exhaled a satisfied sigh, knowing that for now, there was no place you'd rather be.

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paigesluver · 22 days ago

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chapter two for “for me?” is up⭐️ chapter 2!

let me know what y’all think about it :)

#paigesluver ramble #paigesluver updates

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