logysworld - Tumblr blog

logysworld · 2 months ago

Note

jealous paige please, they’re just friends and haven’t confessed to each other both thinking it’s unrequited. attempting to get over paige, reader starts seeing someone and paige starts pulling away from her and getting snippy until reader has enough and confronts her and paige ends up confessing

please and thank you ❤️

playing games

paige bueckers x f!reader | 4k words

summary: as anon requests! this one is quite lengthy…

warnings: angst? cussing, etc , nth too much

note: I love getting requests so much guys, really don’t be afraid to send one in. (I hope I do them justice..)

when you joined the team, you weren’t really expecting to click with anyone straight away. you weren’t necessarily trying to keep your head down, but more so just get to a comfortable friendship level with everyone on the team, as long as they came to you first.

you didn’t realize that most of the team were conversely waiting for you to come to them.

thank god you had paige.

paige bueckers, point guard, the paige. face of the team, the girl with a perfect shot - walked right up to you on the first day of practice, tilted her head, and said, “yeah. you’re gonna make this team better.”

not a hey, no names exchanged, just like that. like she knew something about you before everyone else did.

you laughed at her, feeling at ease with the lack of discomfort in her approach.

“I haven’t even touched the ball yet.”

she smiled, all smug. “yeah, so? I can tell.”

you had no idea what to say to that.

she clapped a hand on your shoulder, and that was it. from then on you were hers.

paige reserved a spot for you on any bench. she ran with you during suicides, even if she finished first. she made fun of your music taste, but added all your songs to her pregame playlist.

one day, you made it early to the gym and snuck up on her stretching on the bleachers, airpods in, nodding along to something. from where you stood, you could see her scrolling through the playlist you had set public on your spotify.

“is that my playlist?”

she popped one airpod out and looked you dead in the eye. “nah, must be someone else with terrible music taste.”

you scoffed, sitting beside her. “uh huh. you’ve been caught, bueckers. dont act brand new.”

she shrugged, grinning ear to ear. “yeahh what can I say. ‘guess it’s growing on me.”

you rolled your eyes, but your stomach did a stupid flip anyway.

you started staying late after practice, but not on purpose. she’d step in front of you as you were walking out and say something like,

“tryna get extra shots?”

even if you weren’t, you’d nod and follow her onto the court, a ‘why not’ that quickly turned into a routine.

there were little moments you guys had, and you weren’t sure if they meant anything to her, but they felt like they could mean something.

when she tossed you a water bottle and called you “trouble.” you thought you sensed a different vibe.

when she got down on her knees to tie your laces and muttered “can’t have you lookin’ sloppy.”

when she played with the hem of your sleeve while you stood in front of her in the locker room, ranting about some practice slip-up you had. she just had her eyes locked on yours like she was trying to figure you out.

she flirted - kind of? but never enough. never enough to cross a line and definitely never enough to be sure.

she started standing a bit too close during drills, fingers brushing yours when she handed you the ball. or, when she’d lean over your shoulder to lecture you on your form, voice low, breath brushing your cheek.

and every time she winked across the court, or called you baby to fluster you during film, your heart kicked harder against your ribs.

fast - and stupidly deep - you caught feelings. for a while, you let yourself believe that she felt the same too.

but paige never said anything, never actually did anything out there either.

she flirted, yeah. but paige flirted like she breathed, effortlessly and casual like it was nothing to her. and sometimes, when she laughed a little too loud at something you said or stood a bit too close when she didn’t have to, you felt like it was different with you. that you weren’t just imagining the way her eyes lingered.

some nights you’d go home with your chest in knots and your head loud, replaying every shared moment as if it’d help figure out what she wanted. every touch, every look, every line. did she like you? did she know how much you liked her?

you tried to brush it off and told yourself you were imagining things from the start. that it wasn’t real, and that you couldn’t be real to her in that way.

she definitely didn’t make things clearer for you.

you started to wonder what it was like to be wanted, truly. loud and confidently wanted by someone without all of the guessing.

you met june at maddy’s birthday thing, a lowkey house party she organized with the team. you weren’t gonna go, hoping to just give maddy the present you got her at practice, but paige had bailed on a hangout you both had planned last minute and you figured going would be better than sitting in your room, overthinking whatever weird mood she had been in lately.

nai dragged you to get ready with her and walk in together, and when you did, june was sitting on the arm of maddy’s beige couch. she was lean, rings on almost every finger, and a face card so good you could tell she didn’t waste much time on dressing up.

she had a smooth, relaxed energy. not loud or overconfident, just there. she wore a black button up shirt and washed denim jeans, with black braided hair trailing down her back and a silver chain that lit up under cheap lights. as soon as nai saw her she smiled and walked towards her - you followed suit.

nai introduced you guys.

“meet my cousin, june. she’s in town for a lil bit.”

june looked you up and down, slow but respectful.

“finally,” she said standing up, “you the one nai been talking about non stoppp.” she offered you her hand, and you took it with a firm shake.

you raised an eyebrow and looked at nai. “oh really now?”

june answered for her.

“mhm. said the new rookie was cookin’ on the court. had to check your highlights myself - you nice with it.” she let go of your hand, but her eyes didn’t leave yours. you didn’t notice nai had walked off, called away by her girlfriend.

“damn you’re even prettier in person.”

you smirked, (and maybe blushed a little) taking a sip of your drink.

“you always this bold, june?”

“nah, just when it’s worth it.”

the energy wasn’t forced, it was smooth and steady, she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to say it but she wasn’t pressed if you didn’t bite back. you spent majority of the night talking to june, the two of you sat together, thighs barely touching, on the same couch.

before you left, she handed you her phone with the number keypad opened.

when she spoke, her hand anxiously came to the back of her neck. “no pressure, but id really like to get to know you. not just talk about hoops n shit.”

you giggled, taking the phone from her hand “okay. I’d like that.”

you typed in your number, smiling down at the floor like a dork. you didn’t do it because you felt bad, not because you wanted to get back at paige, but because it felt so good to be wanted out loud for once.

for the oncoming weeks, practice was dragging even further. paige seemed to distance herself even more without reason and you didn’t press, it was nice to have june around to calm you down when the overthinking started up again.

you guys often went for food, and sometimes june would pick you up from practice. you talked to her about paige sometimes, just expressing your frustration but not many details. on other days, you’d both drive around aimlessly with coffees in hand, talking about anything and everything.

it wasn’t serious yet, not official. but it was nice, and a lot easier than you’d expected it to be. june didn’t make you guess or try to speed things up, she was just down for whatever as long as it was with you.

you’d posted a quick story after one of your hangouts, the dash of the car with the coffees, junes name on the side of the cups, and her hand resting on the wheel of her car. nothing dramatic, just a casual kind of thing. and when you got to practice, you realized the story had not gone unnoticed.

paige hadn’t said a single word to you since warmups and you were already sweating through your shirt. you walked in right behind her, no head turn, no eye contact. she seemed locked in, and it was the coldest she had been in weeks.

during drills, she skipped her turn on you specifically three seperate times. you saw her watching you out of the corner of your eye, jaw clenched and lips pressed tight, but she didn’t say anything.

you weren’t really sure what pissed you off the most: the silent treatment out of nowhere or the fact you still wanted her to say something, you still cared.

during water break, you sat on the base line to fix up your laces that had come undone and paige sat on the bench in front of you. you stood, but before stepping back onto the court you turned to look at her.

“you good?”

she didn’t look up, just took a small sip from her bottle and gave you the faintest nod.

“deadass, paige,” you crouched down to meet her level. “you mad at me or something?”

“nope.”

you tensed up. “really? cause you haven’t said a word to me all practice.”

“yeah, I’ve been playing.” she said, flatly.

you scoffed. “right. just funny how you’re playing with everyone but me.”

she finally faced you, not with warmth or concern, just blank.

“you always take shit this personal?”

paige always swears, but the way she said it this time stung more than you wanted to admit.

“I’m not trying to fight with you, paige,” you said quieter. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“you didn’t do anything.”

her tone was clipped, eyes already drifting away like she wasn’t interested. like you were being dramatic.

you waited a second, but she didn’t say anything else.

“cool,” you stepped back. “guess we’re just done talking then.”

she didn’t stop you as you walked away, didnt call your name, didn’t follow.

so you went back to playing, jaw tight, heart sinking just a little deeper with every dribble. you didn’t know what her problem was, but you were tired of being made to feel like you were the one messing up.

june surprised you and picked you up after practice, hoping to grab some food before she took you home.

im outside , she texted you.

as you walked up to her car she gave you that calm smile she always wore on her face. you hugged her and she opened the car door for you, hand guiding you into the passengers seat.

“you hungry?” she asked as you climbed in.

“always.”

she took you to this late night sandwich place near the highway - a small place with cracked booths and buzzing neon lights. she ordered your usual and her own. it was a quiet hangout, but not in a bad way at all.

back in her car as the sun was setting, june drove past your floor and up to the rooftop parking of your apartment complex. you didn’t ask, just trusted her and went along with it. brent faiyaz or something played on low volume. you sat with your feet up on the dash, biting on the straw of your sprite that you grabbed take away from the diner. june tapped her fingers on the wheel in a slow rhythm, you could tell she was trying to figure something out.

she glanced over at you. “you okay, ma? you been kinda quiet tonight.”

you shrugged. “long day.”

she hummed. “you tryna talk about it?”

you looked out the window and sucked in a breath. “im trying, june. like I really am.”

“I know.”

“I like being with you, I like how easy you make things.”

“but?” she asked, still holding that calm smile.

you turned to look at her. “but my head is somewhere else right now.”

she held your gaze and nodded her head once.

“she got you stuck that bad, huh?”

you flung your head back to the seat rest.

“I don’t even think she wants me, and that’s the worst part.”

june copied your movements, leaning back against her seat and looking out the window before she spoke.

“yeah… I figured. not in a shady way,” she added quickly. “just the way you talk about her, even when you aren’t saying her name.”

you shut your eyes and pressed your palms to your face. “I’m sorry, june.”

“don’t be.”

she smiled, small and a little sad. “you deserve to figure it out. and if it’s not me? that’s okay.”

silence fell in the car, even with the music playing it felt somewhat empty.

“I’m an asshole,” you said finally.

“you’re not.” she faced her chest toward you. “you just want the real thing, I can’t be mad at that.”

you sighed for a beat, and you both laughed for a sec. the way june never tried to guilt you, the way she always made you feel safe, even now. you felt so much guilt for putting her through this.

“you’re incredible, june. for real.” you said quietly, shifting in your seat to face her.

she giggled. “mannn, don’t gas me up just ‘cause you’re bout to break my heart.”

you smiled. “nah, just your ego, baby.”

she laughed louder at that, and everything felt a lot lighter.

when she drove you back down to level 7, she leaned across the console, wrapped her hand around the back of your neck gently, and kissed your cheek.

“no pressure,” she said, “but I hope she wakes the hell up.”

“me too.”

you watched her drive off, and the second her taillights disappeared under the bridge you felt somewhat at ease, but the reality of it all hit you. the only thing you could think about now was if paige didn’t talk now, you were done waiting.

the next day at practice, you kept the same energy as usual. you didn’t try to talk to paige, didn’t act in a way that would provoke attention, nothing. and as you had expected, paige did not speak to you once.

you didn’t want to ask anymore.

any slightest hope you had been clinging to - that she’d snap out of it, that she’d pull you aside and say something - for the past few weeks, was gone. she made her choice, or maybe you were never a choice to begin with.

when practice ended, your entire body was sore, but you still wanted to stay back to get some shots up. not to clear your head, to genuinely practice for once without something else to distract you.

the gym emptied out one by one until you were alone, or so you thought.

you felt her presence before you heard her. paige walked up to the opposite hoop, leaning against its pillar, arms crossed hiding her hands into her hoodie. hair messy. eyelids heavy.

you didn’t stop shooting to talk to her.

“what?” you said, taking your shot.

swish.

“how’s your girl?”

you turned slow to look at her.

“really? that’s the first thing you say to me after ignoring me for weeks?”

she didn’t flinch, just started slowly pacing around the court.

“I’m just askin’. is it official yet?”

“why would that be any of your business?”

she shrugged, all fake casual.

“it’s not. but its kinda clear considering how you been all cozy lately. all up in her car, getting picked up, posting’ her like she yours.”

your jaw tightened, so did the grip on the new ball in your hands.

“it was one story.” you said.

she laughed, “righttt, two lil blurry drinks at a lil blurry restaurant. cute. real subtle.”

“you have it memorized or something? damn you care too much.”

she scoffed, stepping forward towards you. “nah. I don’t give a fuck. but when three people send me your stories, talkin’ bout some ‘shitt I thought you guys had a thing ’, yeah I’m gonna look.”

you dribbled the ball hard and stared at her.

“and what’d you say to them, huh? that we were a thing, but you fumbled it cause you couldn’t say anything out loud?”

she rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but you weren’t done.

“you’re pissed because june stepped up and you didn’t. you do care. stop pretending.”

“I’m not pretending, I never have.”

“oh yeah? all that silence, cold shoulder bullshit? that didn’t feel real to me.”

“god, you’re so fuckin’ dramatic.”

with the way she said it your stomach dropped. it wasn’t defensive, it was mean and deliberate. but she didn’t stop there.

“you’re acting like I owe you something. some perfect confession or whatever the hell you’re waiting for.”

she looked at you straight, eyes squinted.

“I never promised you anything. you just read into shit that wasn’t there.”

you shook your head at her, speechless almost.

“wow.”

“we were teammates, we were cool. that’s all it ever fuckin’ was.”

you took a step back, dropping the ball in your hands and replacing it with your jersey that you pulled, hard. you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

her mouth parted slightly, like she wanted to take it back, but she didn’t.

your voice cracked. “okay, paige.”

you picked up your duffel and turned your back, walking away, headed to the showers.

paige was frozen there, alone in the middle of the gym surrounded by the echo of her words that somehow still painfully rang in her ears. words she said to push you away, words she did not mean.

when the door shut behind you, she finally moved.

she sat down on the court,

and she cried.

a quiet sob, shaking hands covering her ears, wondering if she just lost the only person she actually wanted.

in the shower, the water had gone cold but you stayed anyway.

you stood underneath the stream, forehead pressed again the tile and arms wrapped around yourself. you couldn’t tell if it was the water or tears blurring your vision.

you hated this, how quickly everything turned ugly. that it went from practicing together everyday, to that.

her words sounded in your head like they were carved there.

I don’t give a fuck.

god, you’re so dramatic.

teammates, that’s all it ever fuckin’ was.

the worst part was that you still didn’t believe her. you still wanted to think that she was just scared, not heartless, not just spitting venom to hurt you. you knew that if she just asked, you would still forgive her.

you felt guilty, stupid too. maybe you did push it. maybe you made it weird. maybe she never meant anything and you just imagined it all.

when you finally got out, you dried off slowly and threw on a pair of sweats. you scrunched out your hair with a towel and tugged on your hoodie with shaking hands. everything felt too loud in the empty locker room, your breath, your heartbeat, your mind.

you slung your duffel over your shoulder and walked out of the change rooms, hair still damp and already leaving wet spots that seeped through the fabric of your hoodie. you didn’t even notice paige until you turned the corner.

she was sitting on the floor of the empty hallway like she’d been there forever - arms wrapped around her knees, eyes red and tired.

you stilled and she stood immediately, smoothing down the fabric of her pants. neither of you said anything.

the air between you felt paper thin, like even a slightly harsher breath might tear it.

you rolled your eyes and started to walk again but then she spoke, voice brittle and bare.

“please, wait-“

you stopped.

“I didn’t mean anything that I said.”

your hands came to fidget with the strap of your bag.

“you made it sound pretty convincing.”

“I know, I-“ she stepped forward, “I was mad and jealous, and so fucking hurt I couldn’t even think straight, and I wanted you to feel it too.”

you looked away, your throat starting to close and vision going blurry again.

“congratulations, then. it worked.”

she took another step closer. “I wanted you to hate me.” she said, voice breaking.

“because if you hated me, I wouldn’t have to sit with how bad I fucked this up.”

you exhaled, shaking your head and backing up to rest on the wall behind you.

“I didn’t want to ruin it,” she said, “what we had. you’re the only person I feel normal around, I feel like myself when I’m with you. I kept thinking, that if I said something or-or, crossed the line, that it would change everything. maybe I’d screw up, maybe I’d be too much.”

your chest collapsed on her words, and your throat felt impossibly tighter when you opened your mouth.

“you made me feel like we were nothing.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” she whispered it, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

you hid your face in the sleeve of your elbow, dropping your duffel in the process, and you cried. couldn’t stop. it was ugly and full-body.

“I thought if I held it all in,” she choked out, “that I wouldn’t lose you. but I just hurt you, pushed you away, and I’ll never stop being sorry for that.”

“I tried waiting for you paige.”

your voice cracked again on her name, and it shattered something in her.

you sniffled, wiping your face on your sleeve, eyes glassy and exhausted. “i waited so long for you to say something. anything.”

she took a shaky breath.

“I know. I know. I liked you before I could let myself admit it. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe you’d realize- that you could do better.”

she was crying too when you looked at her, lip forced between her teeth and chest heaving.

“I’m so sorry.”

“don’t say that unless you mean it, please.” your voice wavered.

“I do,” she said, taking your arms in hers, begging for you to listen. “I mean it so much that it makes my chest hurt. I’m sorry- please.” she didn’t even know what she was pleading for.

you stared at the ground, breathing in sharp, broken hiccups, your arms limp in her hands.

her voice was rough but fragile when she spoke again.

“can we please try again?”

you looked up at her, eyes still wet and red beyond belief.

“paige-“

“I know, it doesn’t fix anything.” she said quickly. “but I want to prove that I can be better. you don’t have to forgive me, just let me try.. please. I want you.”

even with how hurt you felt, you still found yourself wanting to fall apart right there in her arms.

so, you said “okay.”

she dropped your arms to hold your face in her hands, then leaned in to kiss the center of your forehead.

when she pulled back she didn’t go far, just enough to look you in the eye. her hands brushed the tears that fell down your cheeks, settling each side of your jaw.

“I like you, and I have for a really long time. and I’m an idiot for not saying anything sooner.”

you closed your eyes and bit the inside of your lip.

“I want this too, paige.” your voice still shaky. “but I don’t wanna go back to that, to guessing and- getting pushed away.”

she reached out and pulled you in, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as your head settled in the crook of her neck.

“I promise I won’t let that happen again.” she whispered.

you let your arms slide around her too, clinging tight, like you were afraid she’d walk away again.

“we’re gonna figure it out.” she said, voice muffled against your hair. “messy, and slow, and dumb probably. but I’m here, I’ll be here for it all.”

more tears fell, soaking into paige’s shirt while she held you close. but this time you weren’t breaking down, you felt like you were healing.

for the first time in weeks, you felt like you weren’t gonna fall apart.

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wnba imagine #wnba x reader #dallas wings #dallas wings x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers uconn #paige x reader #wlw fiction #wlw imagine #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers x fem!reader

220 notes · View notes

logysworld · 2 months ago

Note

could you write a fic kinda like part 2 for from the sidelines but not really but just like a teammate saw reader and paige kissing and so at practice the next day the team like are not so subtly asking questions

watch from the sidelines | 2

paige bueckers x f!reader

summary: kind of a part 2 to this??? it’s quite short though, basically just everyone teasing yall about the kiss!!

warnings: none

like she said, training today would be fun.

you limp into the gym with paige just a few minutes late, hoodie up and hair tied back. paige is trailing behind you, carrying your water bottle like you don’t have two working hands.

everyone’s inside chatting amongst themselves, but when they see you walking in as a pair, that’s when they start hollering. you’re suddenly reminded that arike caught you and paige kissing in the lockers.

tyasha whistles.

“oh wowwww!!” arike’s voice cuts through the gym, spinning to face the two of you. “look who finally made it to work.”

jj nearly drops the ball she’s holding.

“nawwww, look at them. walking in together all soft.”

nai doesn’t look up as she stretches, towel wrapped over her shoulders, but her smirk says everything. “so…. y’all had a sleepover without us?”

“and you wearing her hoodie too huhhh???? i see i see.” arike chimes.

you flush so fast it feels like your blood is coming to a boil. “okay, you can stop now guys.”

paige tries to hide her smile by looking down, but her ears betray her in a scalding red.

“y’all just corny..” she says, shaking her head as you both settle your things onto the bench.

azura stifles a laugh. “oh we corny? wasn’t us in each others mouths with the door wide open.”

you glance down, biting your lip to suppress the hot red that spreads further across your face. paige scratches the back of her neck and mutters something under her breath. you don’t catch it, but nai does.

“oh nah, don’t get all shy.” she nudges aziaha next to her. “yall weren’t shy yesterday from what arike tells us.”

“I hate it here.” you mumble, crouching to lace up your shoes.

“you love us,” arike says, dribbling the ball infront of you. “almost as much as you love ms. bueckers here…”

paige, pink all over now, flips her off without looking. “touch grass.”

chris, a spectator to it all, stands with his arms crossed - seemingly unamused. “don’t care what y’all are…as long as you’re passing the damn ball…”

everyone howls, hands slap each others backs and laughter pounds through the gym like music. finally, you and paige rise and join practice, both with a bit more pep in your step.

post practice, the locker room is loud. some of the girls are playing a tiktok sound on loop, trying to learn the dance that plays on the screen. sports bras are hanging on hooks and the team is in a good mood. you’re sitting down tugging your knee brace off when aziaha starts up again.

“so..” she grins. “yall dating yet or do we have to stage an intervention?”

tyasha raises a hand. “I vote intervention!”

you and paige both groan. “bro.. we’re still on this?” you complain.

paige throws her sweat soaked towel at aziaha’s face without looking. “mind your business.”

nai, who’s been awfully quiet, starts giggling to herself. she speaks loud but sly.

“alright leave her alone. don’t worry, paige has a wholeee plan already.”

the room goes quiet.

your eyes open a hint wider. “a what?”

paige whips her head around, “dijonai, don’t.”

arike gasps. “yeah dijonai, don’t just say that…tell us everything!”

paige is curled up into her sweatshirt now. “can y’all shut up. damn.”

everyone is wheezing. “she’s so mad.” someone says.

“awe paige, you’re blushing.” you tease, biting back a smile.

maddy asks the question everyone has been waiting for. “so when is it official? when’s your plan going through bueckers?”

you quirk your eyebrow, surely the most curious out of everyone.

she stops hiding behind her arm to look up at you, and you catch her eyes squint in a smile.

“you’ll know… when she does.”

the room erupts again. nai is on the floor, ty wraps her towel around your head as a mock veil, and you’re just sitting there covering your face. your stomach starts to hurt from how much you’re laughing.

through all of the teasing, the noise, and the pink in the both of your cheeks, you catch her watching you again with warm eyes.

everything started to wash away with the look she was giving you. you were ready to wait for her to pop the question, accompanied by her adorable plan.

but honestly, you wouldn’t care if she just asked you on the spot, because you had your answer locked in already.

#paige bueckers uconn #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige buckets #paige x reader #paige bueckers #wnba x reader #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #wnba fanfic #wnba imagine #dallas wings x reader

257 notes · View notes

logysworld · 2 months ago

Text

she’s so prettyyy

668 notes · View notes

logysworld · 2 months ago

Note

reader having a bad game and paige comforting her after please

thrown off

paige bueckers x f!reader | 2.6k words

summary: as anon requests, reader has a bad game and paige makes her feel less shit. however I did go off the rails a bit and made this quite long HAHA MB,

—> also it’s like established relationship between reader and paige

warnings: none rly this is fluffy, chris being a lil bitchy, kinda unrealistic coach talk

the game starts good, even great. in warm-up, your shots are landing with a smooth confidence. rhythm tight, wrists flicked, nothing but net when you shoot the ball. you’re feeling good. there’s the sound of balls hitting the court, shoes stepping, laughter and pre-game talk. everything feels light.

nai bumps shoulders with you during drills, zaza throws a pass mid-joke and you drain it with ease. chris even nods at you with a smirk when you hit back-to-back threes pregame. the vibes are unmatched to say the least.

paige walks up behind you and flicks her ponytail so it swipes you. you stop dribbling the ball in your hands and tilt your head back, relieving the tickling sensation that she planted on your neck.

she looms over you with her height.

“that face is gonna scare the fans.” she jokes.

you smile and turn to face her properly.

“im just focused. they love me anyway.” you say, winking and passing the ball through your legs as you do.

her lips curl into a smile as she watches you, then she drops her voice lower to speak. “you’re glowing today. like actually. bet you’ll glow on the court too.”

she says it so casually and you just blink, an electric buzzing hums in your chest and your cheeks start to feel warm.

“you all nervous on me now?”

you glance down at your jersey and smile,

“shut up.”

before she can reply, arike jogs past and shouts.

“hey! less flirting, more layups.”

you both roll your eyes at the same time, but paige nudges your arm as she walks past, hand brushing yours.

“aight, let’s light it up.”

you nod and take in a breath. you’re feeling amazing, and you don’t wanna let anybody down.

first quarter you’re moving just as well as you were in pregame. touches are clean, passes on target, shots smooth. your name is a frequent echo on the speakers.

paige finds you on a cross-court pass and you swish it quick. the team shouts from the sideline, myisha slaps your back with hype. you’re in it, present and connected.

paige walks by you, “told you, glowing babyy!!”

you laugh, blushing.

the sky are playing physical, like they always do. but it’s fine, you’re matching it, so is the rest of the team. you’ve taken harder hits.

until the second quarter.

you’re cutting down the wing, chasing a loose ball when a sky player - always playing like she needs to prove something - steps right into your path.

but she doesn’t just try to box out,

she takes each of your sides in her hands and shoves you down, fucking hard.

you’re forced sideways and hit the hardwood with a loud crack of skin and sneakers. your forearms burn from the fall, scratched raw against the court. the whistle does blow this time, but it’s too late. the damage is done, a foul isn’t called, just dead ball.

you push yourself up straight with gritted teeth, chest puffed. the crowd is roaring, arike already storming towards the ref.

your voice is venom, “you can’t be serious. most obvious foul I’ve seen all season, ref.” you spit.

the voices of your teammates blend, frustration heavy in the air.

“nah that’s not defense, that’s just dirty.”

“you wanna call that any slower, ref?”

“she had both hands on her!”

you can’t hear what paige says to the player but it’s controlled, dangerous, and the player drops her head down after paige walks away. then, she turns and comes straight to you, reaching you just before you could say anything else.

“hey, just breathe.” she says, hands resting on your shoulders, with a slight force that draws you to step away and turn your back to the player.

“she just fucking shoved me.”

“I know.” her eyes flick past you. “I saw, can’t do nothing about it now. you don’t have to.”

“but-“

she steps closer now, one hand coming to your lower back, grounding you. “I got you. let it go.”

it makes your chest twist, you breathe out through your nostrils with a puff. she says it not cold, not dismissing, but because she knows it’s not worth it. you want to lose it, so does she.

but then she’s looking at you, and you’re looking back, and the whole arena seems to fade out. just her hand on your back, her eyes on you. so you let it go.

but something is cracked now. you walk back into the game, but your head isn’t in it anymore. you’re thinking about the shove, the stings on your arms, the fact that player got away with knocking you down - and everyone saw it. your vision starts to blur with anger.

and now the rest of the game?

it just seems to slip right through your hands.

you try to reset, you really do.

but in the last minutes of this quarter, you’re spiraling. you pass up an open shot, and your next one rims out, hard. you curse under your breath. you get called for a reach - a lazy foul. you shake your head and look up because you never do that. you feel the cameras zoom on you, tracking every reaction. every mistake feels amplified.

chris calls timeout.

his eyes are on you instantly. “you, what’s gotten into you? get your head out of your ass.” the team keeps their head down, but paige tried to catch your gaze. you had your head down too, avoiding it all.

at halftime, the locker room is tense. your jersey sticks to you in a way that makes you want to peel your skin off. chris is pacing.

“we’re letting them push us around. what happened to being tough? girls, come on.”

his eyes land on you, you’re not looking but you feel it. “we started strong and now, what? we’re falling apart. some of you need to focus up.”

you feel it like a knife and chew on your cheeks, jaw pointed at the ground.

when it’s time for third quarter, you tell yourself you’re ready, time to redeem yourself.

but the rhythm never comes.

you fumble a pass, miss a layup you could hit with eyes closed. on defense, you get caught on a screen that paige switches for you. she doesn’t say anything, but you can feel it. the I got it that you were supposed to have.

chris calls you for sub early into the quarter.

“off.” he said it plain, not even angry, just done. you jog to the bench and sit, face burning. there’s a wrap on your forearm from the fall earlier and you scratch at it. you see the camera lights blinking across the court, some faced directly at you. you clench your jaw and clasp your knuckles together. fuck.

you’re avoiding everyone. nai tried to make eye contact when she sat next to you on the bench but you weren’t interested.

nai kicked your leg lightly, but you didn’t respond.

paige looked over at you more than five times, you could feel each glance, and each one just made you feel heavier.

still, no one says anything, because they know that right now you won’t listen.

it’s the last quarter. you started this game with a spark, 16 points with the team in total. you had admiring eyes on you from the whole stadium, and now they feel judgmental.

you curl into yourself further, fingers tugging at the hem of your jersey, one knee bouncing. you’ve never felt further from the court than you do right now, despite it being nearly beneath your feet.

in the locker room, the silence is louder than the crowd. shoes squeak against tile, tape is ripped, there’s no music. no jokes.

you sit at your locker, shoes already off and placed next to you on the bench. your hoodie is half on. you don’t move or speak.

chris stands infront with his arms folded tight.

“we all saw what that was. a loss that shouldn’t have happened.” he starts. ��we had a flawless start, but I guess ego and attitude were the only players on the court today.”

you feel the words hit you before he even looks at you. he doesn’t call you out by name, but he doesn’t have to. you can feel other eyes on you, and you pray you start shrinking into a speck of dust.

you block out the rest of his talk, your pulse growls in your ears and you swear you can feel the blood flowing through each vein. the ache in your chest is so loud you’re afraid someone might hear it.

when the team filters out you stay back for a bit, slower to pack up your things and ashamed to walk out the door incase anyone sees the tears that have built in your eyes.

you catch movement in your peripheral, a familiar blonde ponytail walking past. you think she’ll keep walking, but she doesn’t.

she stops beside you and crouches down, placing a hand to your side, her fingers toying with the fabric of your shorts.

she’s fragile when she speaks. “baby, you okay?”

your shoulders relax at the name, but the tension in your muscles is stuck.

“hi. no. I feel like shit.”

she takes your hands in hers and pulls you to stand with her.

“why don’t you go shower? ill come back and wait for you.” she coos, a volume only you can hear.

“okay,” you tilt your head. “where are you going?”

she bites down on her lip.

“im gonna talk to chris.”

“what? no, paige don’t-“

“shower, ill be done by the time you are.”

she squeezes your hands and walks off. you contemplate following her, but the idea of seeing chris makes you cringe internally and the predicted embarrassment holds you back.

defeated again, you grab your stuff and walk to the showers.

paige walks straight up to chris who is standing outside one of the common rooms, reviewing something on his clip board.

“you got a minute, coach?”

he glances up, surprised. “what is it?”

she crosses her arms. “you need to back off her.”

“excuse you?”

“she gave us 16 points, got knocked to the floor and played through it. you humiliated her, actin’ like she didn’t do shit.”

he straightens. “paige, she lost composure. we needed control-“

she scoffs “nah, you needed someone to blame.” she takes a step closer.

“she’s not soft, you know that. but you made her feel like shit for slipping after she carried us in the first. she was the last person to blame today.”

he opens his mouth but paige cuts him off again.

“say whatever you want behind closed doors, but don’t humiliate her in front of the team like that again. that’s not coaching, that’s ego.”

he pauses - clearly shocked.

she shakes her head once. “tighten up.”

with that she turns and walks off, for her, this conversation is over.

you’ve changed into sweats now, bag slung over your shoulder, you still feel like shit. when you walk out of the change rooms paige is already waiting there, her jaw slightly clenched.

you stop in front of her. “what’d he say?”

“doesn’t matter.”

you frown at her. “why did you do that?”

she cups your face with one hand. “cause. you deserved better, you fought for us. i saw it.”

your throat thickens. “it wasn’t enough.”

she looks at you with kind eyes, puppy-like. “no. it was.”

then quieter. “come home with me.”

you nod, but don’t move just yet. you aren’t ready. paige’s hand trails down your arm, fingertips grazing yours.

when you don’t pull away, she links her pinky finger with your own. then, her whole hand.

you don’t say anything as she walks you out toward the exit, but you look down to hide the blush that creeps onto your cheeks. her hand never leaves yours, thumb brushing lightly back and forth.

when you get in her car, you slouch in the passengers seat. she closes her own door and reaches to link your hands again, just loosely connected resting on the center console.

she squeezes your hand every few minutes but doesn’t speak, and she doesn’t make you either.

at her apartment, you’re quiet when you walk inside. your limbs feel achey and eyes swollen from holding back tears. you still don’t talk, and paige hasn’t pressed.

you drop your duffel near the door and she takes it without a word, settling it neatly on the rack close by.

by the time you’ve dropped yourself onto the couch, she’s already tossed you her grey uconn hoodie - the one with the loose neck and somehow always smells like her despite you adopting it. you put it on without thinking.

she disappears into the kitchen for a second and you click the tv on. when she comes back, she’s brought you a cold glass of water, your favorite protein bar, and a small bowl of grapes she washed but doesn’t mention.

she takes the remote from your hands, lowers the volume, and turns on some random background show just to fill the silence. she knows silence makes you spiral, but talking right now might be too much for you.

she drops onto the couch beside you, legs splayed out, back resting against the corner. then, she opens her arms. you tuck yourself into her, back to her chest and she wraps herself snug around you.

then she speaks. “we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna, baby.”

you lean further into her, eyes welling up again. words just come out.

“I felt the pressure, from everyone. from the cameras, chris. and I couldn’t get out of my own head.”

she doesn’t say anything, just lets you talk and rubs the sleeves of your hoodie.

“and then when chris came at me infront of everyone… yeah I wasn’t playing my best, but I was trying. i don’t know… it broke me.”

you stop, finally breathing again.

paige hums behind you. “I know. I saw it.”

you tilt your head to look up at her. “that’s it?”

her expression softens, and she moves so that she’s facing you. “what else is there to say? you were busting your ass. you gave us sixteen. a few bad plays don’t erase what you did.”

you look away, ashamed. “felt like it did.”

she shifts again, a hand sliding to the back of your neck. “baby, don’t.”

“you’re allowed to have off nights. you’re allowed to get pissed and slip up. but I saw you, I saw everything you gave.”

you blink at her, eyes stinging.

she leans forward and presses a kiss to your head.

“you’re not the reason we lost. you’re not sensitive, you’re just real. everything that happened today was valid.”

you hide your face in her neck, breathing out hard.

“you always know what to say.”

she smirks. “yeah, haven’t you heard about my rizz?”

you both cringe at that, but laugh, tired and relaxing.

“just shut up.”

she takes your jaw in her hand. “whatever you want, baby.”

she kisses you. it’s not dramatic or sharp, it just feels so safe. her lips are soft and warm, anchoring you, a contrast to anything and everything else that happened today. she leans further into the kiss, but the hand on your neck loosens up - she’s not asking for more, just offering.

you return the pressure, deepening the kiss slightly. you want her to know you feel all of it. you pull her in, hand scrunched in the fabric of her shirt.

when you pull away, she smiles at you and starts to pepper your face in small kisses. you giggle, caged in her arms, melting into her touch. once she’s done, she squishes your face in both her hands, teeth on full display in a satisfied grin.

she squeezes your face tighter and plants a small kiss to your nose. “I love you, baby.”

“iii ruhv oou too.”

#paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #dallas wings #dallas wings x reader #wnba imagine #wnba x reader #wnba fanfic #wlw fiction #paige bueckers uconn #uconn x reader #wbb x reader

355 notes · View notes

logysworld · 2 months ago

Text

watch from the sidelines

paige bueckers x fem!reader | 2.2k words

summary: you’re injured and forced to watch everyone play without you, paige’s bond with aziaha deepens, you’re hurt.

no warnings!

last week, you slipped - again. there was a sharp squeak as your foot caught the paint on the court and then you were down, weight collapsing right onto your bad leg. you didn’t cry or scream, just hissed through clenched teeth as the familiar pain bloomed through your right kneecap.

paige was at your side before the sound of your fall had fully echoed. her hands hovered inches from the skin on your leg, anxious but gentle, like if she got any closer she’d make it worse.

“hey, hey..”

her voice was a whisper.

“stand for me, please.”

you couldn’t.

“you’re okay, it’s okay..”

a lie.

“i got you.”

the gym faded out - the buzz of sneakers and chatter all dulled as the pain came into full focus. you blinked fast, willing the pain to pass but the throb only spread deeper.

when the nurse rushed over it felt like background noise. your brain locked onto the way paige’s thumb brushed the side of your hand, anchoring you.

aziaha slipped under your other arm, voice low and steady as she helped carry you towards the bench. chris stood midcourt just watching. when your blurry gaze found his, he sighed hard and shook his head, turning away, already running worst-case scenarios through his head. nai looked at you with a curious eye, a ‘you okay?’ kind of look, and you nodded yes.

the nurse was cool and quick when you sat down on the bench. she pressed her fingers into and around your kneecap, asking questions as she went along.

“where does it hurt?”

“everywhere.”

paige crouched on the bench next to you as the nurse continued to examine you, one hand resting on your lower back. aziaha stood next to her, grabbing paige’s shoulder like she needed steadying.

“let her work,” chris said, walking over. “you two, back on the court.”

paige’s head snapped up, “wait-“

“nope, cmon. let her breathe paige.”

paige looked at you hesitantly, waiting for you to give a reason for her to stay. but you didn’t wanna hold her back.

“it’s okay guys.” you said.

paige nodded and stood up slowly, her hand stroking your back as she went, a silent reassurance. and then, she turned away, aziaha walking beside her as they got back on the court.

they settled into a passing drill together. paige gave the ball a spin, then fired it towards aziaha with the snap of her wrist. she caught it clean and they exchanged something you couldn’t hear. a smile, a joke, they laughed together and fell into a rhythm.

it wasn’t really jealousy, more dull. it was nobody’s fault but your own that you chose to feel irked by something so small.

paige didn’t look at you as she played, she was in her element with the ball in her hands. watching the two of them laugh together under the court lights, your chest tightened. you’re supposed to be her duo.

that was practice, and now? you’re still benched for indiana. the pain had already subsided. but you’re not in the tunnel with the others, not running out under the lights, not lacing up.

you’re wrapped in your dallas hoodie on the sideline, legs outstretched with one bound in a black brace that hugs the joint tight. your hand smooths over the brace, like it’ll heal instantly with the pressure.

the crowd roars as names are called, and paige gets the loudest pop. 20,000 fans, historical. you should be on the floor, soaking it all in. instead, you’re swallowed by it.

you inhale and it almost stings, a mixture of pride and jealousy rising in your chest like smoke. the arena feels too big from this angle, too bright.

chris steps beside you.

he doesn’t look down when he talks.

“back at practice tomorrow, yeah?”

you squeeze your eyes shut and nod.

the team rolls out onto the court but for now you keep your head down. everything still feels slow and you hate it, watching like you’re stuck behind a glass pane just forced to observe.

chris calls out the names of the starters and you finally open your eyes to look at the court. paige is locked in already, lips pressed tight and head nodding at something arike said. then, her eyes flick towards you, just briefly. you give her a half smile, one that doesn’t touch your eyes,and she returns it, looking away just as fast.

the first few possessions are clunky, both teams feeling eachother out, but then something clicks. paige stands at the center of the court - tall and calm. she bounces the ball once, twice, then seamlessly threads a pass to aziaha cutting in from the wing.

you know that pass, you’ve caught it hundreds of times. but it’s not you this time, she’s throwing it to someone else.

aziaha drains the mid-rage, easy and fluid. the arena erupts.

paige jogs back on defense with a grin, bumping aziaha’s shoulder as they fall into step. it’s a natural chemistry, you think to yourself.

the bench explodes.

but you don’t blink.

by the second quarter, indiana is running the game. dallas is trailing by 20 and it seems like its only getting worse.

but, paige starts heating up.

she crosses over once, splitting two defenders, and finishes through contact. light work for her. the crowd screams, but she doesn’t smile yet, she’s too dialed in.

when she turns to run back, her eyes flash to you on the bench clapping for her, and she finally smiles.

your stomach twists.

the ball is moving faster now, and on the next play, paige swings it across the court without even looking - right into aziaha’s hands. another bucket.

they run at each-other and shout, grinning ear to ear, hands on each others shoulders.

nai leans towards you and hums in a suspicious tone.

“hmmmm. aziaha’s getting close, huh?” her eyebrow arches up.

“don’t starttt, nai.”

her voice drops to a whisper,

“what!? you got nothing to worry about anyway. she doesn’t look at anyone the way she looks at you.”

“but we aren’t even..”

“even…..???” she quirks.

you face her and attempt to look serious.

“focus on the game, dijonai.”

in a second you both start laughing, hands flying to your mouths to stifle the giggles, but you’ve both been caught on the big screen. oops..

but now, you feel better - the occasional tease from teammates on you and paige is kind of comforting, even when you don’t know what it is yet.

you didn’t join the huddle in the lockers at half time, instead you were dragged away by trainers into the empty room just across. they asked you the general questions, how you’re holding up, does it hurt here? what about here? how’s the swelling?

you answered mindlessly, attention drawn to the sound of paiges laughter. the locker room door is cracked open just enough.

paige is loud and breathless when she speaks. it comes out muffled due to the distance.

“z, that play was all you.”

it hurts more than it should.

by the last quarter, everyone is gassed. earlier, paige made another seamless play with aziaha and they bumped shoulders again, paige reached up to ruffle her hair. its still hitting you now, the jealousy clouding your judgement of the game.

paige is at 27, still clawing for points in her last few minutes. she’s carrying the team on shaky legs, and you can see the stiffness clearer whenever she stills on the court. at one point you both glance at eachother and her jaw flexes. it yanks you back to a memory, like a string tied to your ribs.

you’re half in her lap, half on the couch in her apartment. there’s game film playing on the tv but it’s muted, the light casted from it flickers over her face. you weren’t talking, you didn’t really need to, that’s how it always is.

her fingers danced on your thigh. she was the first to lean in - as usual. she kissed you with a lazy, practiced confidence. soft and familiar, with no trace of hesitation.

her hands found your jaw and your hands twisted into her sweater. the kiss deepened but stayed slow, neither of you were in a rush.

at some point you just were resting on her shoulder, and she returned to running a thumb along your thigh absentmindedly.

no questions. no confusion. this was what you did, and it felt normal, it had been your normal for weeks.

you’re brought out of the memory by the buzz of the crowd. the wings can’t close the gap and the fever have now basically pulled the win for good. chris pulls paige out with four minutes left and she jogs toward the bench.

there’s a cold towel to her neck, jersey clinging to her body with sweat. you can’t help but stare. she walks slowly towards you and doesn’t sit down immediately. you catch each others eyes and just stare.

“i wish you were out there.” she says, softly, just for you.

your throat tightens.

“yeah, me too.”

post-game you stay seated long after the crowd dissapears, your knee feels stiffer, heavier. in the locker room, there’s a humming but nobody is saying much, not after a loss like that. your arms rest on your knees and you let your head rest on the locker rooms bench.

across from you, paige pulls her shirt over her head, muscles taut and still glistening from the game. she’s quiet too, focused on stretching her wrists and arms.

she hasn’t looked at you since the game ended, but you’ve felt her orbit around you. like she’s waiting for you to say something, to tell her what’s wrong.

you want to be mad, jealous, distant. all of it, but instead? you feel small, tired and left out. alone in a kind of way that paige only seems to notice.

when the room clears out you start to zip up your bag, and suddenly she’s there.

paige drops to sit next to you, gently prying your hand away from the strap of your bag. her hands are warm and they adjust to hold both of your own. her body faces you.

your eyes meet.

finally you spoke. “you played so good.”

she smiled but brushed off the compliment.

“I missed you out there today.” her voice low. she wasn’t just referring to your playing presence, but just the real you. today, you were quiet, tense. not as loud for the team as you’d usually be. not as obvious with your cheers and game talk. this whole injury had you thinking about what you really meant to the team, maybe more so to paige.

you laugh, short and somewhat bitter.

“you say that like it means something.”

“it does.”

she’s still holding your hands, fingers brushing yours. you look at her flushed face, hair a little messy and curled at the base of her neck, the towel still draped on her shoulders.

you stare back, vulnerable and tired, terrified to ask what this is or what you are to her.

“i don’t know what im allowed to feel.” you whisper.

“you’re not mine, but i can’t. i felt sick watching you play with her. i felt like I wasn’t a part of anything, i hated it.”

she knew you were talking about aziaha, and she pressed her lips together. processing, understanding.

“should i be jealous? like- i don’t know. can i feel like that. is it that serious? i’m sorry, i’m being weird.”

paige doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t look uncomfortable or caught off guard.

“you’re not being weird, baby.” she says softly.

“you’re stressed and hurt. I know I was with aziaha the whole game, and I know watching that hurt because I feel it too when I watch you play without me.” her hand moves to cup your cheek and you lean into it without thinking. the ache in your knee, the roar of the crowd, aziaha on her hip all game, it all disappears.

“i was thinking about you the whole time. every pass and shot, i was thinking about you. you’re not out of this. I get it.”

you look at her through your lashes, embarrassed but loving. you want this with paige, you want to go further. you want everyone to know she’s yours, and you are hers.

she speaks again, this time her voice a rare shy tone. “do you wanna come home with me? we don’t have to do anything or like… yeah.. let’s just talk. about all of it, us. or not? whatever you want.” she rushes the last part, a red blush flooding the tips of her ears.

you lean into her and smile. “yeah, I do.”

her forehead pressed against yours and she smiles back. then, she kisses you. unhurried and meaningful, her hand resting on the skin of your neck and jaw.

then - a cough.

you both look to the door at once.

arike stands in the doorway, holding her water bottle like a mic with her mouth dropped open but smirking.

“oh! my bad guys.” she says, grinning.

“didn’t mean to interrupt the post-game press conference..”

you all laugh, but you drop your head in your hands. paige groans quietly and leans her head on your knee.

“training tomorrow will be fun.”

————————————————————

this like one of my first attempts at a fic and also in wnba so hope yall like it please leave requests my brain does not go well when it comes to having ideas 🥲

#paiguebueckerswillsaveusall

#paige bueckers x reader #wnba basketball #wnba players #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wbb #wbb x reader #dallas wings #wlw #x fem!reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige buckets

560 notes · View notes